#outside of the box with mine ;P

[son1c]

if we get canon shatterverse shadows that's just a win for me dawg. that's a win for all of us

[x-i-l-verify]

If I can just throw my two cents into the hat just real quick...

"Not as easy to hurt," Bro. Broski. The lad is not even 4 and a half feet tall. I could punt him a good distance, never mind an actual enemy that wanted to seriously cause him harm. Turn that boy into a squeaky toy for a few baddies and watch the conflict just write itself. :V

HOWEVER, I will say that as a newcomer to the whole LOZ franchise, I don't really personally care that Four doesn't have as much of a dark and tragic backstory as some of the other Links? Obvs I know some things through internet osmosis and watching random video essays on games like BOTW and Majora's Mask and such, but LU has been my first real foray into these characters and watching them get a deeper characterization. And Four became my favorite almost immediately due to his design and personality, not because of preexisting knowledge I have of his games or any sort of attachment to one in particular. The fact that he doesn't have the baggage that somebody like Wild or Time does is... well, honestly kind of refreshing, actually? He's a very confident, balanced character, that plays well in a group and can fill basically any niche in a plot that you want him to, and you're not rehashing the same old beats/conflict again and again from fic to fic.

And as the previous commenters mentioned, there's plenty of opportunity for conflict with his character, both on an internal and external level. After all, if your character doesn't come pre-made with a whole train's worth of emotional baggage, there's the time-honored tradition of walloping them until they develop their own in real time. One could explore Four's relationships with the other Links, how he relates to them and their respective journeys (e.g. how Hyrule thinks he "got off easy" compared to some of the other heroes and how fans make that a prime source of conflict for him). One could explore culture shock, him finding out his place in the timeline and all the implications of that, have him meet some of the other Links' villains, even, and have to deal with that. One could, as mentioned, put him in a situation he can't easily think his way out of and force him to get really creative or rely on the others more than he would like (I have the feeling Four in particular hates feeling useless with a burning passion).

Anyway, all that to say, if people have a hard time putting Four of all people into Situations, that sounds like a skill issue. Get Gud, ya casuals. :P /j /lh

It might just be my cold talking but I think I’ve figured out what it is that makes Four less popular for fic writing (in general anyway, Four stans keep doing what you’re doing). And that is... he’s just not as easy to hurt.

Hear me out. If you’re writing a fic about about Wild, and you want to cause him pain, you have like a billion options to explore. He has his memories, he has his identity crisis, he has his guilt over the champions and failing plus the extra grief with Mipha, he has a tendency to get injured, he’s bad at working on a team etcetera etcetera. And that’s not even counting anything I’m sure y’all are doing because of totk.

For Four... well. Aside from the four sword and splitting, and any angst from losing Shadow, there’s... honestly not a lot else. I mean, there is a little, like Ezlo leaving, or how young Four was, but anything else there is isn’t very well known, since Four’s games are the ones that people seem to have played the least. Plus a lot of Four angst centers around his troubles of being split and splitting, but if you’re like me and like to stick to canon, there isn’t even that, not really.

This is just an observation though, I could be wrong ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Just thought it was interesting.

[barefoothighlander]

call me little sunshine

-summary: you come home for summer break to find a new man has moved in next door, he’s charming and mysterious so you welcome him to the neighbourhood

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

-warnings: mdni 18+, dark themes, slight stalker!ghost, dub con, corruption, masturbation (fem), unprotected p-in-v, fingering, creampie, dumbification kinda, size kink, dom!ghost, orgasm denial, ghost has a filthy mouth, spit play if you squint, loss of virginity, oral (fem rec), mention of alcohol, mention of scars, age gap (reader is in 20s, ghost is in 30s)

next part masterlist

a/n: this is pure smut with plot and I regret nothing, this fic contains dark themes so please be advised, also not proofread.

The air was thick, its humidity almost choking you as the sound of thick waves lapping on the beach overtook your hearing, the hot June sun welcoming you as you stepped out onto the porch. You loved being home, even if it was only for a few months, you missed the simplicity of being there, no coursework to worry about, no job weighing on your mind just cold lemonade and swimming in the ocean.

As you situate yourself on your porch, book in hand your eye is caught by the sight of a large broody man moving boxes next door, your dad hadn’t told you that anyone new was moving in, you didn’t even know the previous owners had left, shame, you really liked them, you shake him from your mind and return to your book, settling in against the soft seat cushion.

You read for a while before feeling yourself grow thirsty, moving to the kitchen of the house to find something to drink, as you look out the window above the sink you see him again, only this time he’s not wearing a shirt, it’s tucked into the band of his jeans, every sweat covered muscle gleaming in the sunlight. Your eyes linger on his form before he catches you, stopping what he was doing and giving you a polite smile, you feel your cheeks blush as you return the sentiment with a shy wave, moving out of view to set your back against the wall.  Your skin was hot, you figured it had to be from the weather outside deciding to change into something a little more comfortable for the weather, returning outside in a short white dress, patterned with small bumble bees, it sat low on your chest with thin straps that tied into little knots, perfect for the warm weather.

You glance over toward your car, noticing it could use a little cleaning, grabbing a few rags and making your way over, you lean over the hood, dousing the mental in soapy water, moving around, scrubbing different spots, you stand up, legs drenched in water as you hose down the vehicle.

“You’ll have to clean mine sometime” you hear from behind you, turning your head to see him, he’s practically glowing, you have to raise a hand to the sun just to look at him, he’s close, close enough that you can make out every groove of muscle, every scar that littered his toned form, the only thing you can’t make out is the dark ink that decorated his forearm.

“My truck is pretty dirty” he says breaking your trance.

“Oh,” you laugh

“Guess that happens during a move” He gestures toward a large stack of boxes.

You stifle a laugh, “Yeah doesn’t look great”

He smiles, it’s bright and genuine, “I’m Simon” extending a large hand toward you, you smile raising your hands to show the dirty water on them as he laughs, grabbing yours, enveloping it, lightly running a thumb over the skin, the simple contact making you swallow a lump in your throat.

“Right well, I should probably go shower”

He releases your hands, looking at the wetness on his palm that had transferred, watching your dress blow slightly in the wind, threatening to give him a peek at your ass, taunting him, he clicks his tongue before returning to his own work.

The shower does little to soothe you, a growing sensation in your lower stomach as you enter your room, towel-clad body moving around to pick out comfy clothes, it was nearing nightfall, the sound of cicadas echoing outside your open window, remnants of the sunset bathing your bedroom in a warm glow, you huff a breath to yourself, resting on your bed, hips wiggling a bit trying to ease the gentle thrum between your legs, you try to distract yourself with a book but with every turn of the page you find your mind wandering to him, his broad form glowing in the sun, the gleam of his smile, his dark eyes that stared into your soul. Putting your book to the side you gently move your fingers down your body, ghosting over the hem of your panties, teasing ever so slightly before dipping below the band, gentle fingers circling over your clit. You elicit a quiet moan, not used to the sensation, you continue circling as your jaw falls slack, free hand coming to cup at your breast under your shirt, you quicken your pace, back arching off the bed as whispers of moans fall from your open lips, images of your neighbour flashing before your eyes, you imagine his fingers, rough, roaming over your skin, teasing over your sensitive bud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, you grip the sheets as your orgasm washes over you, whimpers of his name falling from your tongue. You lay in your bed breathless, turning over in your bed as sleep takes over your mind.

You woke early the next morning, your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as the heat creeps in through your window, you rub your eyes and move to get dressed, you had to go into town and it was hot again today, you settled on a simple skirt and tank top, something that would let your skin breath as you packed your bag, bidding your Dad a good morning before getting into your car. Your errands took longer than expected, a harsh rain setting over the terrain as you pulled into your driveway, you catch a glimpse of Simon on his porch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he watched the rain fall, offering him a small smile before making your way to the door, digging through your bag to find your keys, panic setting in when you realized they were nowhere to be seen, you peer through the window, willing someone inside to appear and let you in, out of the pouring rain, but no one’s there. Defeated you turn your back against the wall, huffing a breath.

“Locked out?” you hear him call, standing in the safety of his covered entrance.

“Yeah, forgot my keys inside”

“Did you want to wait inside mine?” he offers

You think for a minute, “No that’s alright, I can handle a little rain” you laugh

“You’re gonna catch a cold” he states plainly

You mull it over in your mind, you really didn’t want to be standing in the rain, you nod and make your way over to him, you miss the way his eyes linger on your form, your clothes soaked, clinging to your skin, allowing him the perfect view of your breasts and ass.

“Here come inside”

The two of you step inside, you look around the room, it’s not heavily decorated but small trinkets litter the shelves, a couple plaques hung around the room.

“Wait here, I’ll get you some dry clothes”

You remain still in your spot, and he returns with a small stack of clothes.

“Bathrooms over there doll”

You smile before making your way, his eyes glued to your curves, watching the way your hips move as you walk away. You close the door, stripping your clothes before throwing on the ones he had given you, no doubt belonging to him considering the way they hung loosely on your body, your hair was drenched but there was nothing you could do about it. You return to him standing at the bar,

“Give me those” he says hand extending to the mess of wet clothes in your hand, taking them from you to throw them in the dryer.

“You can sit if you’d like” he points toward the couch across the room,

Smiling at him before making your way over, he follows, propping himself right next to you, you can feel the heat emanating from his body as he reaches an arm to rest behind your head.

“So you just moved in?” you try to make conversation

He takes a swig of his drink turning to face you, “About a week ago, it’s a nice spot”

You nod, “I grew up here, parents moved when I was 4”

“Mmm I didn’t see you when I moved in”

“I just got back from school, summer break”

“Ah, university?” he asks, innocently enough

“Yea, I’m studying history”

“Interesting stuff”

You nod in response,

“I’ve got some old books upstairs, unpublished works from people who’s names I can’t pronounce”

“Where’d you find them?” slight smile creeping onto your face

“Can’t remember, wanna check them out?”

You nod as he guides you up the stairs, leading you into a small study, a sizeable bookshelf sits in the corner, beside a large grey safe.

“What’s in the safe” you turn to face him, he’s leaning against the doorway pinning you under his stare.

“Nothing you need to worry about doll”

You blush at the nickname, he moves across the room picking out an old leather bound book and handing it to you, his fingers ghosting over yours, the contact sends chills up your spine.

“I haven’t read this one” you say shyly

“Well it’s yours anytime you want it” he says, fingers roaming up your bare arms, your eyes are locked on his, body frozen from the contact.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, leaning down to place his lips next to your ear, his English accent suddenly thicker, his words drenched in honey, you nod, unable to think of words. “Do you like teasing me”, you quirk your eyebrow,

“Huh?”

He smiles against your neck, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end,

“The tiny dresses, the practically see through tops, bending over right in front of me”

You’re confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about." He bites at your neck causing a small moan to fall from your lips,

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about love”

You shake your head, “No I swear-” your words cut short at the feeling of his palms roaming under your loose top, coming to rest under the curve of your breasts, your breath hitches as you feel the pad of his thumb come to swipe over your hard nipple.

“Think you can get away with it hmm, making me hard, serving yourself up on a platter for me”

Your eyes flick to his, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to”

He shushes you, his hands moving down to grab at the meat of your ass as he presses his body into you, the firm contact of his length pressing against your thigh making you drop the book in your hands.

“S’alright doll, I’ll give you what you need”

You clench your eyes as you feel his hand cup your sex,

“Tsk, no panties, and you tell me you aren’t teasing”

“Th- they were wet”

“Mm so are you” He strokes two fingers through your slit, grazing your clit, forcing your head to fall forward against his shoulder as your hands grip his shirt. He teases over your clit, as you try to grind yourself onto his palm, desperate for contact.

“Needy girl” he whispers, kissing at your pulse point, he slides a finger into you, groaning at the way you clench him.

“Fuck you’re tight, gonna have to work you open for me huh” He grins a sadistic grin, peering at your scrunched face. He continues fucking you with one finger, his rough palm colliding with your clit, creating the perfect mixture of contact that has you teetering on the edge. As you’re about to tip off the edge he removes his hand, earning a whine from you, whimpering at the loss of contact, the heat still burning in your lower stomach.

“Stand up for me pretty girl”

You do as he says, feeling his arms grip under your knees, easily lifting you from the ground to plant you on the desk, kissing at your collarbone as he finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. The cool air grazes your skin as goosebumps begin to form, you watch him with doe eyes as he sinks down, lips latching onto your nipple, his hand coming to toy with the other, he sucks your nipple in, biting it lightly earning a gasp from you as he moves to give the same treatment to the other. He sucks at the valley of your breasts as he moves to take off your pants, urging you to lift up a little so he can slide them off, he moves back, hands spreading your legs as he’s looking at your dripping pussy.

“Such a perfect little cunt” he says, placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a stripe through your folds, stopping at the top to tease over your sensitive bud, you instinctively clamp your legs, he grips your thighs, spreading your legs wide allowing him to kneel directly in front of you, the sensation is too much, you’re a mess of moans and whimpers, that familiar heat boiling in your stomach as you clench around nothing, he studies your movements, detaching himself at the last second to bring you slowly back from the edge, you try to grab his head to move him back but he stands firm.

“You’ll cum when I want you to”

You whimper,

“Tell me what you want baby”

You force the words from your throat, "I want to cum”

“Use your manners”

“Please, let me cum”

He smirks, fingers pinching at your nipples, bringing his fingers back to your leaking hole, you moan at the stretch, he pumps slowly, easing you into it as he watches your face contort with pleasure before latching his lips back to your clit. He pumps his fingers into you quicker, your moans growing louder, he bites lightly at your bud at you elicit a yelp, replacing his fingers with his tongue, his thumb circling over your clit, you’re so close you could scream.

“Come on baby, cum on my tongue, taste so good” His praise dries you forward, your hands gripping his hair as your back arches, your orgasm taking over your body, a blinding white light obstructing your view as your moans fall from your open mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, moving up to kiss you harshly, “taste that baby? so sweet”

Your breath is heavy, your mind clouded from your orgasm, you feel weightless as he picks you up, laying you back against the desk.

“Wait” you manage, “I’ve never”, his smirks grows

“Aw baby, are you a virgin”

You nod sheepishly, his mind floods with a million ideas, but right now, he has to feel you. He climbs over your body stripping himself of his clothes, your eyes come into contact with his hard length, widening at the sight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” he coos, tip teasing at your folds, he grabs your knees, spreading you wide forcing your body against the mattress as he holds you under his weight, even if you wanted to fight back you couldn’t, body weak from his touch. He pushes in slowly, just the tip at first, watching as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Look at me, wanna watch you as my cock splits you open”

You follow his command, scared of what might happen if you didn’t, as he pushes in further, the stretch of him practically tearing you in half,

“Fuck baby not even half way and you’re squeezin me so tight”

You moan at his words as he continues to press into you inch by inch before bottoming out,

“That’s it baby, just relax”

His thrusts are shallow and slow, easing you into it as your hands cling to his shoulders, he pushes in deep as your back arches, your clit grazing against his pubic hair. He places a firm hand on your lower stomach,

“Fuck, you see that doll” You glance down at where your bodies meet, “Can practically see myself inside you”

Your body fights against the intrusion, the pain of him pressing against your cervix, you’re writhing under him but he leans down to cage you against the bed as he starts fucking into you faster. You’re breathless, careless moans slip from your mouth.

“You feel so good, don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop myself”

You moan in response and he laughs, “Only had my cock for a minute and already can’t talk, you cockdrunk baby,” he says, hand grabbing at your jaw to hold it open before leaning up to spit in your mouth, 

“Swallow it” he orders, and you do, the remnants of his whiskey linger, burning your throat as he continues fucking you at a relentless pace, your muscles are weak as he moves back, gripping your thighs tight to your chest, holding you down with his weight.

“I’m gonna fill this little pussy, let everyone know you’re mine” he grunts

You shake your head, trying to tell him no but it comes out as mumbles,

“Shit I’m sorry love, just feels too good”

You claw at him but he persists, long strokes filling you as his balls slap against the skin of your ass,

“Squeezin me so tight, m’gonna cum”

Your attempts at refusal are useless as his balls tighten, pressing himself deep into you as the warm sensation floods your abused hole, fucking into you a few more times making sure you got every last drop before pulling out, he steps back to examine his work, pressing a finger into you,

“Gotta make sure it all stays in”

You groan at the intrusion, the contact making you twitch slightly, he moves beside you placing a kiss on your head,

“Did so well angel”

Your body is jello, limbs exhausted as he holds you tight to him, moving you to the bed across the hall. You don’t know when you fell asleep but you wake up and he’s gone, the remnants of his spend leaking from your sensitive cunt, as you try to get up, noticing the pile of clothes set next to the bed, you dress carefully, trying to maintain your balance and making your way down the stairs, noticing his broad form sat on one of the porch chairs, you creep your way to him, standing by his side.

“Better get home pretty girl, Daddy’s back,” he says nodding towards your father's car in the driveway, your throat is dry, as you walk back to your home, you feel his eyes glued to you, you feel like his prey. You step inside and are greeted by your parents asking about your day, your mind freezes,

“Are you alright honey?”

You take a minute, “Yeah just, super tired I guess, I’m gonna head upstairs” sparing them a smile before making your way to your room, you step into the shower trying to wash everything off you, the warm water soothes your body before you step out, looking at your form in the mirror, noticing a deep purple mark between your breasts, running a light hand over it. You change into pyjamas and settle into bed, your mind is tired, your body is tired, you toss and turn trying to get comfortable, cringing at the feeling of Simon's seed still spilling from you, you turn over in your bed, clenching your eyes shut hoping you were simply imagining him as once again sleep takes over your body.

[asteiioss]

The One With The Proposal

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), slight BDSM (use of cuffs), delayed orgasm, P in V sex, unprotected sex (people pls be safe), creampie, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Well... Okay. There's a few things you need to know about this piece of work you're about to read. This is actually a part of my series that I'm writing on Wattpad. I will put the link below in case you want to read the whole thing. It's not finished, I'm still writing it. This chapter, however, can be a standalone and can be viewed as a one-shot, so I decided to post it here, too. I wish you an enjoyable reading. Oh, and this is not read through, so if you find some mistakes, pretend that you didn't.

Wattpad acc link: here

Spencer Reid. A man known for several things. His knowledge. A brilliant man, whom the FBI owes many thanks. Uncountable cases that he helped solve that would probably stay unsolved without him. His blabbering. He had a whole paragraph ready to shout out on anything you say. The sky? Fun fact... The book you're looking at? Fun fact, the author actually... A specific person who's dead or alive or never surfaced for something they did? Fun fact about them...

You will never see him wear anything outside of professional clothes. Comfortable professional clothes. Sweaters, cardigans. He sometimes reminds me of older women who wrap themselves in their cardigans. You will never hear him swear. Not in public, anyway. The most he said once was goddamn it. The entire team was left in shock. Penelope was even scared of him that day.

He will stutter in conversations and situations that make him even slightly uncomfortable. He has a germ thing. He never shakes hands or hugs with random people. He makes contact with his friends, me, and some close people like his mother, Diane.

Now put all that into an image and try to picture that man. A shy, uncomfortable, boyish man. Stuck reading books when he has free time. No, no. He cancels plans to stay indoors and read books. Even re-read them.

That same man proposed to me half an hour ago. It was small, intimate, and sentimental. We walked by the restaurant where we confessed we loved each other. He let my hand go and I took a few steps ahead. When I turned back, he was down on one knee and held a small box in his hands.

I said yes.

I said yes more than once.

He was the sweetest man. He was mine. I loved to be loved by him. Delicate, heartwarming, caring and sweet. The man I just described above.

That same man was driving us home at the moment, his dick hard, bulging in his pants, one hand or the wheel, the other deep in my cunt while curving his knuckles at a new angle as he fucked me.

Every person has two sides.

And boy, oh boy, did I love his other side.

Everything anyone knew about Spencer, they would say he would be a sweet, whiney, submissive man during intimacy. I beg to differ.

His fingers twirling inside me, I huff as I refuse to moan just yet. I hated the way he could make me fold so, so easily. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. My mouth is open and I can't hold in pleads from him. His fingers are long. I love his fingers. But his cock is bigger.

He pulls into our parking space and he removes his hand from under my dress. He walks out and comes around to open my door. I begin to come out when he stops me, picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. I yelp, feeling almost powerless. He slams the door and locks the car and continues to carry me up almost three flights of stairs. The apartment door flies open before we go in. He closes it with his leg and heads directly to our bedroom.

I can't help but blush. I felt like a tiny girl. How disgusting that the tiny girl imagined all the things he would do to her in a few moments. He slides me down and steps back to look at me. His eyes scan me, from the smallest hair on the top of my head all the way down to my toes. There's a devilish desire in his eyes, his mouth parted ever so slightly. His eyes come back to mine and he, almost growling, says, "I kneeled for you, now go ahead and kneel for me."

Tingles run down my entire body. I don't hesitate to obligate his request. Not a request. He demanded. And I wasn't going to defy this. I wasn't going to defy him. Not breaking eye contact, I slide down on my knees, perfectly aligned with his belt. I look ahead, seeing him painfully hard in his pants. I slide my hands up his legs and start undoing his pants. Every clank makes me tingle between my legs.

There was a specific time when a powerful, strong and independent woman only wants, no, only needs to be told what to do. I raised myself from nothing. No one helped me. I could only thank myself for everything I have accomplished in my life. I would listen to no man. No man had the power over me. No man could take nothing from me. Except him. He had all of me wrapped around his little finger.

And I didn't mind.

Being submissive to someone means so much more then people think. It means trust. It means love. Truth be told, not every submissive person tends to be like that in everyday life. Don't get me wrong, I know what comes to mind when you think of someone like that. Porn taught us so wrongly. And this? This was so much more intimate then just porn. This was desire, lust, and pure neediness.

After undoing his belt, I pulled down his pants, tugging his underwear to, removing them to. I would skip everything just to feel him. Being released from his clothes was hitting him sweetly as he took a sharp breath when my eyes fell to his dick.

I look up, almost lustful, maybe waiting for him to tell me to touch him, maybe even to beg me, a whole 180 to what I just described myself as. His eyes were dark and watching me from a high. He simply smirked, almost reading my mind and what was going through it.

"Go on," he half whispered, voice deep just like the darkness around us, "be the slut the outside world has no idea you are."

And that was all it took. My hand takes his base before I stick out my tongue and slide it up his entire length. There was a lot of length. He inhales, pushing a groan down his throat at the first touch I plant on him.

This was going to be a long night.

The kiss I leave at his tip as I start stroking him with my hand sends his head falling back. The motion pushes his curls off of his forehead. I loved when his hair fell on his face. It made him look messy. It made him look more flustered. And the image of him like that made me throb between my legs.

After enough slow-play, I stick out my tongue and take him in my mouth, slowly, reaching as far as I could before I feel him touch my throat. He feels he reached far and he groans. The funny thing is I had taken only half of him. He looks down again, his hairs flying back to his face. His fingers twist around in my hair and tug slightly, almost like he was checking the grip he had on my head.

But I soon found out it wasn't the grip why I thought he wanted it. He held my head in place as he started to rock back and forth. He was using me. Using my mouth to be precise. And he started fucking it. At first it was slow, almost shallow thrusts, reaching where he first did. But as time passed, he became more fierce. He started going deeper, hitting the back of my throat with more force making me gag. My eyes started to water as I had no control over anything. His hand held my head in place as he now almost pounded into my mouth.

As he continued, I could feel him twitch on the top of my mouth. And so did I. I felt my panties dampen with every second that passed. I was horny because my boyfriend, my fiancé, was fucking my throat like it was just something for him to use.

Muffled moans and occasional groans escaped his mouth. He was about to finish. I could easily tell by the increased speed of his thrusts and their force. Finally, he pushed himself almost the whole way, deep into my throat and let himself release there. I gagged pretty hard, trying to keep him down and not throw out his cum.

He pulled himself out and let go of his grip on my hair. His hand slid from behind to my chin and he lifted my face up. He was taking deep and long breaths, his chest falling and rising every time. His eyes scanned me, a fucked mouth, watery eyes and bright red cheeks. Must have been quite a sight.

"Swallow, baby." he said and left his mouth slightly opened, watching as the small bulb went down my throat and he smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl. Your turn."

He bent down and picked me up to carry me to the bed. Back facing the mattress, he climbed on top and roughly kissed me. I loved when he did that. After what I just did, he didn't hesitate to kiss me. He didn't get disgusted to do so. His fingers hooked around the hem of my dress and he pulled it off in one quick motion. I was left in my bra and panties that were already soaking wet. Every time he saw me like that, dressed but not dressed, I'd get shy.

I never liked my body. And yet he worshipped it.

"God, you're so gorgeous." he hovered over me, his eyes trailing over every inch of my body. I shivered from his words that sounded like a prayer. It was half whispers. Like he was afraid that if someone heard what he had, it would be stolen from him.

His lips come down and start kissing my neck, my weak spot. Just the warmth of his kiss makes me moan, eager for more as I buck my hips up towards him. I feel that I caress his cock against my thigh, and as soon as he feels it, he pushes my hips down with his hands.

"Needy, are we?" he chuckles against my skin as he now slowly moves lower and leaves a trail of kisses at my collarbone.

"I hate when you do this." I whine, my fingers roaming through his hair.

"You hate when I kiss you?" he says between kisses, one on my shoulder, one at the base of my neck, one directly in between my breasts.

"No, I-" my words get interrupted when I moan. I feel him smile when he hears me. "I hate when you make me wait. You tease. Every time." I take a deep breath in between every sentence to take in his kisses. As much as I did hate the delay of the actual sex, I loved feeling him everywhere. I didn't know what I wanted more.

He continues kissing, his lips reaching my stomach and he stops. I look down to see him slightly smirking as he is settled just between my legs. I feel shivers. He lets go of my hips and slowly pulls down my panties, sliding his fingers down along my legs in the process. He is continuing to tease me with every touch he leaves on my body.

When I finally think that he is going to stick his tongue at my cunt, I am yet again met with disappointment. He comes over me and trails his hands, slowly, around my back as he keeps looking me in the eyes to catch every whiney face I make as I plead him to fuck me already using no words. But he knows. Oh, he knows that's what I'm asking of him.

He unhooks my bra and I am completely naked. His shirt comes off as he makes us even. Again, I hope that he will now go down. It doesn't have to be his mouth, I'll be happy if he would just stick his fucking fingers into my pussy and rummage through it. But, no. He bends down and kisses my breasts, moving from one to the other. Kissing it, sucking on the nipples, squeezing them with his hands.

If he was kissing and/or sucking the right he would be squeezing the left. There was no space left for me to catch a breath. Then, he bit down on one, just enough to make me squeal. He chuckled with my tit in his mouth. I had enough. I gripped his hair and pulled him up to my face.

"What do you fucking want from me?" I say with a whiney voice. I sounded desperate. I hated it. I loved it, too.

His face had a drunk smile across it. He was enjoying this. My torture was satisfaction for him. Fucking great. "I want you to beg." he said through a whisper. His head was tilted back as I was pulling his hair.

I hated to beg him. Especially to do what I wanted. I knew he knows what I want, but he loves when he makes me break and I have nothing left but to fucking beg him to do the most unholy things to me.

I roll my eyes. "No." I simply say.

He smirks and bucks his hips so his dick slides over my dripping cunt. My entire body arches and he smiles again. "Beg, my love. Use that mouth for something else then a place for me to dump my cum."

That mother fucker. "You assh-" he bucks his hips again and breaks me mid-sentence. I growl at him.

"I don't think that's how begging works. C'mon. Beg me to fuck you. I know you want to."

It was weird hearing him swear. Not just swear, but use vulgar words in general. I used them everyday. It was like saying 'hi' to someone. But Spencer? Noup.

I gave up. I close my eyes and just make peace with my fate. "Please, Spencer."

He bends down and kisses my lips. "You have to be specific, my love. What do you want from me?"

I'm boiling at this point. Do I have a choice? If I want to be fucked, not really. "I want you to fuck me, please me, make me cum. I'm fucking tired of being teased." I practically cry out the last part.

He smirks and I let go of my grip on his hair. He doesn't move, he is still looking me directly in the eyes as he slides one hand down and caresses my inner thigh. He goes over my cunt with his entire hand and I loudly gasp. He watches, enjoys the reactions he gets as he touches me. He brings his hand up and licks his two fingers and then slides them down again.

Baby, you don't need no more moisture, I'm wet enough.

His hand finally connects to my core and he starts making circles around my clit. My body erupts. I no longer have control over my reactions. My eyebrows furrow, my mouth is wide open and it's letting out moans, whines, sounds I didn't even know I could make. And he simply watches. From time to time he would bend down and kiss my neck, maybe even bite down on it, making me buck my entire body up.

"God, you're so fucking wet." he says and starts rubbing up and down my entrance. "You're so pretty. My pretty girl."

I'm melting. Melting into his sinister hands that are touching me in the most horrid ways. And I wouldn't stop him even in a million fucking years.

He slides the fingers in, gently, slowly, caringly. I let out a loud moan, slapping my mouth after I do. Just as I did, his other hand takes my wrist and pulls it off. Holding it, he collects my other hand and pins both of them above my head. "Why would you do that?" he asks. But I don't answer, it's a rhetorical question. "You sound so beautiful when you moan for me. You sound so pretty."

His knuckles are now buried deep inside my pussy and he starts to pump them in and out. When he slides them back in, his thumb hits my clit and he curls his fingers inside just enough to hit that little spot. Every movement he made was followed by that wet sound. I just knew his fingers were drowning in my arousal, and I just knew he was so eager to put his cock inside there too.

He kisses my jaw, my neck, my cheeks. He is enjoying this. Pleasuring someone you truly love is pleasure to you as well. His other hand in on my thigh, pulling it away so he has better access and can slide in deeper then he usually could. In between my own sounds, I can hear him groan whenever I jerk my hips upward and slightly stoke him against my leg.

I want more. Now, I'm just desperate because I don't want to finish now. I want to cum over his cock while he is buried all the way inside. I want him to see that little blub in my stomach appear and disappear as he fucks me.

Like on cue, as if he heard me, he pulls his hand away and climbs the bed again. Pushing my legs fully apart, he aligns himself at my entrance. He pushes, but purposefully jerks himself up so he slides against my clit. I see him place himself on my abdomen as if he is looking how far he goes when he's inside.

"Look at how deep I can bury myself in you, love." he admires and glides his fingers over my skin. He pulls back and leans over to the drawer next to our bed. For a moment he rummages through it. "Shit."

I look over, trying to figure out what was going on. "What is it?"

He pauses and looks at me. "We don't have any condoms."

Well shit.

But I put on my big girl face. "And?"

He looks slightly surprised by my reaction. "No protection?"

I shrug. "What's the worst that can happen?" I smirk, moving myself lower on the bed and connecting myself with him. He really was hard.

He says nothing and just enters. He pushes in with quite a bit of force. I let out a quiet scream at his motion. I still needed time to adjust to his length. But he didn't care. He was already in full force, starting to pick up the pace of his thrusts. His hands go down and wrap around my hips and he uses them to pull me on himself as he continues to pound me.

The room is filled with my whines and moans, the sounds of our hips connecting and slamming against each other, and his groans. I love when he groans. I know he feels good. I make him feel good.

"You're so tight. It's so warm inside." he says through rough groans.

His fingers are diving inside the skin of my hips. I feel pain as he squeezes them. I push the feeling away, I even don't have to. The feeling of his dick hitting my deepest point is strong enough to push it away almost instantly.

The repetitive slamming into me lures my finish to approach. It's forming in my gut and I feel it slowly coming as he continues fucking me mercilessly, rough and fast thrusts.

"I'm gonna cum- Oh, God, Spence." I saw, although I'm not sure how I managed to.

Just as I said that, I felt my climax get at its highest point, and I was about to finish-

He pulls out.

What the fuck?!

"Wha- what are you doing?" I stutter, the high still in the air but it's fading away.

He looks down and has a wicked smile on his face. His cheeks are deep red and his hair is damp from his sweat. "I'm not done with you. Turn around."

I'm mad. Furious. I want to defy him so badly, I want to say 'no', maybe even flip him off. But I want to finish. I was just about to. So I do as I'm told. I prompt myself up and turn around and stand on all fours on the bed. Might I add that this is my favorite position.

I expect him to align himself again and continue to thrust like he did, but he gets off the bed and walks over to the corner of the room. The corner where he keeps his bag for work. I hear a clank before he walks back behind me. He places his hand on my upper back and slightly pushes, indicating for me to lower myself even more. My face and chest lay on the mattress. My ass is now the only thing in the air.

This position gives him more access. I am ready for it to hurt before I can adjust myself to his length again at this angle. Yet again, I don't get what I'm expecting. He takes my wrist and places it behind my back, then the other and connects it with my other one. I hear that clank again. He takes one of my wrists again and puts the metal around it.

It's his fucking cuffs.

He puts his cuffs on and thugs on the chain between them to pull my arms back. He pulls so much that I have to lift myself slightly off the bed. I tremble. Out of excitement. Our of slight fear. Out of horniness, simply.

I feel him bend down and kiss my back. He knows I love that. It feels very intimate to me. He kisses down my spine and then slaps my ass. I yelp, not just by the sudden contact, but also because he slapped it pretty hardly. Not enough to leave a bruise, but it will definitely go red in a few seconds.

"You ready?"

There are certain points in our sex life when he asks, or even simply warns to hold on tight to anything. Since I was obviously restrained, he's asking. That is enough to know this was going to be really good.

"Yeah." I whisper, my face buried back into our bed.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispers again and pushes his tip into my cunt.

My breath trembles since I was still sensitive from the high I missed a few minutes ago. "I know."

"Good. Because for the next few minutes it might not look like I do."

He didn't give me time to respond. He slammed himself inside, making me scream out. This was enough for the neighbors to hear. He started thrusting. I still wasn't adjusted to this position, and his cock was hitting from a new angle that allowed much better access. I felt pain. But, God, was it good. My eyes started watering from the pain as I couldn't take it. I prayed that my pussy would stretch just slightly so I could take him a bit easier.

After a short while, I did. The slight pain was still there. It couldn't really go away from the force he was driving himself in. And then it happened. He slapped my ass again. It was a strong slap. His hand was big enough to cover my entire cheek. I yelp at the sudden pain.

As he continues to thrust, I feel him occasionally twitch. That can mean only one thing. He is about to cum again. Just when I realize that, he speeds up. He pulls on the cuffs and makes me get up from the bed. He's pulling hard enough to hold me in the air.

He hits again, going back to squeeze after. I feel the slight burn of his slaps. Another one connects to my skin and with it I feel that high again. I don't want it to escape again, so I bend slightly so he feels me letting him slide even deeper.

Spencer quickly realizes what I'm trying to tell him, but there's not much left before I feel him hammer himself once, then again, just as I feel my climax release. I scream out, and I feel him empty himself inside.

It takes him a few seconds to calm down before he lets me fall down on the bed again. I'm a fucking mess. He takes off the cuffs and places my hands on my sides before he bends down and removes my hair from the back of my neck and kisses in that spot.

"My perfect girl." he cooed. "You're so fucking special."

I breathe deeply. "Well..." I begin as he lays down next to me. "That was fun." I feel his cum drip down out of my cunt.

He chortles. "That's one way to put it."

I was about to marry this man. I loved every inch of him. Every version there was of him. There was nothing that could take that away from me.

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

You move into a new neighborhood and have one hell of a hot neighbor. 

(I tried to find out how long Negan and Lucille were married but couldn't find it, if anyone knows please correct me.) NO BREAKOUT! WARNINGS~ P in V, fingering, licking, smut, pregnancy (just in case), hair pulling, swearing, If i missed any sorry. No beta reader, any mistakes are mine alone.

WORDS~ 2354

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a year since Lucille had passed for Negan, and he never thought about moving on after losing his wife. 

That was until you moved in next door. The day you moved in, you had smiled and waved at him as he smoked his cigarette next to his bike that he had been working on when you drove up the road.

That day he watched you as you picked up heavy boxes and crates refusing the help that the men offered you. He pegged you to be a hardworking, no shit taking type of woman. He peaked over when you and a guy were raising your voices to have a disagreement about something, he liked how you stood your ground up against a man who was much larger than you. The sun started to set, and he watched as the trucks drove away and you walked inside the house, the porch light flickering on as you closed the door.

Negan could see you close your bedroom blinds but still your silhouette showed what you were doing, Negan couldn't help but watch as the dark shadow took of pieces of clothing, he should stop watching, stop being a creep, but he couldn't. He went to bed that night with his fist gripping his cock thinking of you.

The next morning you were up bright and early, ready to go for a run around the neighborhood. You got into your running shorts, sports bra and sneakers and started stretching on the porch, it was a quiet street, you took the chance to look over to your neighbor's house. He had been outside most of yesterday, two things caught your attention, the first his bike and the second how handsome his was. During moving in yesterday you found yourself glancing his way as he lay on the ground, fixing something underneath the bike, the way the shirt rode up a little showing off his happy trail. The way he would roughly wipe the grease off his hands, your mind wandering to those big hands wrapped around your body, inappropriate to think about seeing how you were just moving in. 

You started your run slow around the block, noting the streets and where they lead to, making a daily run plan in your head. Turning the corner to your street you see your neighbor outside once again working on his bike, you slowed as you approach him. "Morning" you say as you slow to a stop.  Negan stands up from his bike, wipes his hands on the rag and smiles at you. "Morning. You're certainly up early, names Negan, seems to me that we are neighbors" he says gruffly. "Yeah, we are, names Y/N. I saw you yesterday out here, she yours?" I nod to the bike. "Oh yeah I took her off my mate a while ago, needs a little TLC but she'll be up and running soon." "That good to hear." I smile at you. "So far you're the only neighbor I've seen out so early." Negan laughs, "The neighborhood is sort of filled with older folk, you and I are the oddballs here. Most of them come out in the afternoon when it starts cooling down." "Oh true, it's a nice area, was lucky to get this place, seemed like it was a popular house." Negan couldn't help but stare at you, looking you up and down as you chatted away. "You wanna come inside for a coffee or tea?" Negan offers throwing the rag over the bikes seat. "Yeah, I could go for a coffee, as long as I'm not interrupting your day?"

"Nah you're all good love." Negan chuckles and leads you inside. His house is nice and neat, you look around as he leads you to the kitchen. "Take a seat, I'll put the kettle on." You sit down at the counter and smile and watch him as he grabs the coffee cups. "Should have asked this earlier, but you got a girlfriend or wife that might get upset about another woman in her house with her man?" You speak softly. Negan places the cups down, along with the spoons, coffee and sugar. He looks at you and smiles weakly.

"I am a widower. Lost my wife just over a year ago to cancer." "I am so sorry; I didn't mean to make you up...." Negan interrupts you. "It's fine you didn't know; I get it you don't wanna be making enemies the first day you move in." He continues "Lucille well she would have loved you I think, she barely spoke to any of the people here, a young girl like you would have been perfect to talk to take on shopping trips, you know all that." Negan chuckles. "She sounds amazing. How long were you married for?" You ask as he grabs a photo of her off the fridge, you study it. They looked so happy. "Oh man would have been about 10 years." "Well, you look happy in this photo" You hand it back to him and smile. "I was, been down in the dumps since losing her. What about you? You got a man I should be worried about?" "Hell no, single as shit." You say as you watch him mix the coffee, milk and sugar with the spoon, "It's the reason I wanted to start new, new place, new men to check out, you know" You take the coffee cup from his hand and thank him.

"Bad break up?" He asks taking a sip. "Abusive ex, so yeah and no, the breakup was well and truly needed." "Fucking pathetic male hitting women, would never lay a hand on a woman in that kinda way." Negan says getting angry. "Well, he didn't like it when I finally snapped and knocked him the fuck out, he went to his side chicks house, and I hightailed it out of there."  "Abusive and a cheater, how the fuck did a nice girl like you get with that kinda guy?" "He was my brother's mate, we met at teens, hooked up and only when we lived together, he got abusive and controlling." 

Negan just nods and continues to drink his coffee, staring at you. "What?" You ask smiling. "Nothing, just can't believe some fucker would raise his hands to the likes of you." He rounds the counter getting closer to you. "He taught me one thing, how to stand up for myself." You say, almost in a whisper. Negan's hand comes out and gently touches your face, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. You breathe hitches as you lock eyes with him. You take in the salt and pepper hair, his facial hair, the way he smells like gasoline and cologne.  "Y/N I know it's wrong, I just met you, but I can't explain why I felt drawn to you." You blush at his words; you felt the same. Since you laid eyes on him yesterday it was hard to not think about him.  "Please tell me you feel the same" He moves his face closer to yours. "I do" you respond, moving your face closer, your lips almost touching. He sighs and, in a blink, his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply. Your hands grip his chin, nails digging into his skin. His hands one travels to your neck, the other travels to your hair, gripping it tightly. Making you gasp as he pulls it. Negan slid you off the stool into his arms, never breaking the kiss as he made his way carefully to his bedroom. He kicked the door close behind him and walked over to the bed, placing you down gently, crawling on top of you, his hands making quick work of his shirt, tossing it to the side of the bedroom. You look down at his bare chest. He sat up and you followed him, your hands reaching out to touch the small amount of chest hair he had in the middle of his chest. You smiled up at him as you kissed his chest, working your way over to his nipple, you take it between your teeth biting it, getting a groan out of him.

Negan couldn't help the noises he was making, your teeth gently grazing over his chest, nipples and neck were so good. His arms wrapped around you as you moved close, nibbling your way up.

"Shit" he moans. You smile at him and start to undo your sports bra "I seem to be a little overdressed" you whisper, his hands stills yours.  "Allow me to fix that" He says pushing you back down to the bed, ripping the zipper of your bra down harshly, you move your arms out of the holes and it disappears into the room, at this point you don't care.

Next to go were your pants, Negan isn't gentle with them either, he grips both pants and underwear and pulls them down, tossing them, leaving you naked under him, you can see his pants are struggling to hide the erection he has going for you. "Fuck your beautiful" He says kissing your inner thighs, making you giggle a little.  "Sorry, it's the facial hair" you explain when he looks up at you and raises an eyebrow. Negan smiles and keeps kissing you, moving up closer to your wet core. The giggles turn into gasps as his tongue licks your slit. Not going inside, just teasing you. Your hand reaches out to his hair, gripping it, you try and push his face down, but he stops you. "Needy little bitch, aren't you?" He growls, his words turning you on more. You were never one for dirty talk, usually it would turn you off but when he says it, it's doing the exact opposite, feeling yourself get wetter from not only his tongue but your own want. You moan as he uses two thick fingers to spread your lips and his tongues circles your clit, you arch your back at the pleasure. Negan keeps licking adding the twonfibgers thay held your pussy opened to him, you feel filled with those two digits pumping inside you. He keeps licking your clit when fucking yoi with his fingers, first gently, then getting rougher and rougher, until you tell the orgasm you been building releases and he laps it up like his life depends on it.  When he moves over you, his face is wet with your juices. You smile at him and he brings his face closer "Go on baby, taste yourself" Negan waits for you to move closer to him, to kiss him, your tongue licking at your cum. "Fucking sweetest pussy I have ever tasted" He growls, he sits back as he undoes his pants, just enough to release his cock and line it up to your enterance. He kisses you deeply as he slides into your pussy, you gasp having to adjust to his size.  But once he is fully seated inside you he doesn't move. You both lay there, panting. "Such a nice warm little pussy, I think Ill just let you warm it a bit before I fuck you senseless." He smiles as you try to move your hips, desperate to fuck him but he stops your tries. Smacking you on the side of your ass "Naughty girl. Can't you wait a little bit?" "No" you whisper. Negan laughs as he pulls out, almost all the way only to push himself back into you fast, getting you to gasp and moan. He continues this torture. Out.......slowly. In....hard......out.....almost all the way, just the tip toying with your pussy. In hard, his balls slapping your skin. Your moans mix with his, the pleasure building up again. It wouldn't take to long for you to come again. Negan's thrusts were getting erratic, he couldn't hold off the oncoming orgasm much longer.  "Negan please....." "You close baby girl? You close?" Negan grunts thrusting again hard. "Mmmmmm yeah...." You moan, you feel yourself start to tighten.

"Oh my god, your gonna fucking milk me baby?" Negan says, going faster.  It takes 3 more thrusts and your cumming around his cock, arching your back as your pussy grips on to his cock as he continues pounding into you. Negan grunts loudly and moans as his movement stop and you feel his cock pumping inside you, releasing his seed into you.

He rolls off you, but bringing your body closer to his as he lays there, coming down from the high. Negan laid there, his heart racing, he could feel yours beating underneath his arm, causing him to smile. "Just know I don't usually jump into bed with neighbors" You say after a few minutes of silence. "Neither do I, but I just couldn't help myself." Negan kisses your neck.

"What happens now?" You ask.

2 YEARS LATER. You sit on Negan's lap as you watch another set of neighbors move into the street, the street was starting to get a lot of young folk. You lean back and smile as Negan nibbles your skin.  "That was you two years ago baby girl" Negan says as his hand toys with the helm of your shirt, gently rubbing over your swollen belly.  "Sure was." Your hand entwined with his. To some you and Negan moved fast into this relationship, within 6 months you were moving in with him, at 8 months he purposed marriage to you, 12 months you had a small wedding with your family attending. Now you sit on his front porch, 6 months pregnant expecting twins, a baby boy and a baby girl.  "I'm glad I moved into this street, I'm glad we met that day on my run."  You tell him.  "Oh trust me darling the feeling is very mutual." Negan says pulling your hair, making you arch back to give you a deep kiss. "Fuck" you whisper knowing that that alone was turning you on.  "Let's go inside baby" Negan says standing up with you in his arms, not allowing you to walk. You start kissing his neck as your wrap your arms around his neck. 

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

As love and its Decisive Pain

Main Masterlist

I had some thoughts and had to write them down, so here we are.

Title inspo

Contains: Fluff, loving husband Ray, impact play with a flogger, bondage, smut (fingering, sex toys, P in V) aftercare. Not beta read.

2.1K words

Ray goes shopping

The narrow, cobbled stone street was one of Ray's favourites. The area, which was once a red light district back when the Thames was filthy and a loaf of bread cost a few cents, still had an illicitness about it, like the pleasure and vice still lingered in the air. Up an old set of poorly lit steps and left through a glass door into a store with walls lined with goods that would make The Marquis De Sade blush.

"Mr Smith, good to see you again. I was just about to call you about a new piece." Mavis, the woman at the counter, ducked down and produced a long black flogger with the strangest handle he had ever seen. "It came in yesterday. Nice thudy fall with no sting, and the handle," she handed to Ray as he approached the bench. "It's muti use."

The handle was made of the smoothest metal he had ever felt and it took up the heat of his hand like it was enchanted. "How much."

Mavis smiled. "For you, five hundred." He slid the money across the counter as she packed it in a fancy black box. "Anything else today?"

He shook his head. "No thank you, Ma'am. Pass my compliments onto the Leatherworker, they did some wonderful work." He left with a wave and a smile on his face, tonight was going to be delightful.

Ray did his best to fight back his smile as he walked into his home library. You were sitting, curled up on his favourite chair by the window and flashed him a warm smile when you set eyes on him. "Hello Dearest, I wasn't expecting you until six."

He smiled. "Micky let me off early. I got you something." He took the box from under his arm and placed it on the table. "I think you'll like it."

You took your time opening it, untying the ribbon before pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, Beloved, I just wanted to get you something nice." He sat next to you and pressed his lips to the side of your face. "Do you like it?"

You removed the flogger from the box and ran your fingers through the many tails. "Oh yes, I love it. Thank you." You placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him. "Can we use it tonight?"

He grinned against your lips. "Of course."

You return your attention to the implement in your hand; the hilt was odd, it was longer than any others you owned, with two sections separated by a guard, it was only when you took a closer look at the pommel that it registered. "Oh, that's interesting."

His beard scratched your skin as his teeth nipped your ear. "I thought so too." He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed you as his hand slid up your shirt, only when you were breathless did he pull away to speak. "I'm going to cook you dinner, then you're all mine."

The bedroom was pleasantly warm, as were Ray's hands as he undressed you. "You remember what to say if you want to stop?"

You nodded. "Poppy."

He smiled. "Good girl." The rope he looped around your wrists so he could tie you to the bed posts was soft, each knot made carefully for your comfort. There was enough tension so that when your legs eventually gave out, you would stay standing, your back remaining a perfect target for him to land every well placed strike.

To anyone outside the room, it must have looked like some lurid facsimile of a crucifixion, you standing naked, your arms spread open with each one tied to a bedpost, but it was one of the most erotic things Ray had ever seen. The brush of leather on your skin was gentle, a mere promise of things to come. "Are you ready, my Darling?"

You took a deep breath. "Yes."

The first few hits were soft, an easy warm up so you could fall into the sensation in relaxed comfort. There was a pause and his eyes met yours as a warm, calloused hand found your back, feeling the growing heat coming off your skin before his voice filled the air, already tight and filled with lust. "Are you ready for more?"

"Please." The next hit wasn't soft and it had your muscles coiling to avoid jolting too much in your bonds. He paused to wait for you to relax before delivering the next one, and the second you stopped tensing, they came in steady succession until he hit a pleasant rhythm that filled the room with satisfying thuds.

When he came around to your front this time, his shirt was rolled up to his forearms, and his pupils had all but taken over the pretty blue of his eyes. "So, do you like it?"

"I do, very much."

He smiled and scratched your heated skin, the feeling mixing with the dull ache of his hits and sending tingles up and down your flesh. "Good. Would you like more?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

He pecked your check before disappearing from view again and the hits began once more. Time grew fuzzy around the edges, like he had wrapped your brain in cotton wool and you fell into the support of the rope like a sailor falls into the safety of a hammock. Eventually he stopped, returning to your side as he ran his hand up and down your back. "I think it's time we move on."

He placed the flogger down for the moment and ducked under your arm so he could stand in front of you. The kiss he took you in was filled with lust and he didn't even give you a moment on control as he nipped your lower lip. He slowly ran his hand down your body, his fingers seeking until they reached your core. "Fucken hell, you're so fucken wet Sweetheart, is this all for me?"

He must have meant for the question to be rhetorical because there was no way you could give him a clear answer when his index finger circled your clit. He watched your face as he slid two fingers inside you, smiling to himself as your expression grew tight with pleasure. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

He pulled away and your eyes popped open, and you watched as he stepped away, making his way to his bedside drawer to collect a bottle of lube. Each movement was full of intention as he picked up the flogger by the bottom part of the hilt below the guard and spread a generous amount of lube on the pommel. The metal was surprisingly cold, given how it felt when you first held it. He rubbed it through your folds and you felt him grab your face with insistent fingers as your eyes drifted closed. "No, don't close your eyes, I want to watch you feel it."

The second your eyes met his, he slid the hilt inside you in one long, persistent push. He paused for a moment to admire the glassiness of your eyes and the way your breath caught in your chest before slowly pulling it out and then using the same slow, steady pace to slide it back in. The smooth steel was unforgiving hard, and guided by Ray, it pressed against your walls in a way that made you feel unbelievably full. He changed the angle so the rounded head of the pommel pressed against our G-spot with each pass and mercifully, he allowed your eyes to close as your head fell against your bicep.

He seemed intent on torturing you, never picking up speed or adding force but something about the unrelenting pressure and hardness of the hilt increased the pleasure growing in your core regardless. He shifted, never letting go of the flogger and you felt him press himself against your back as he resumed fucking you with it. He was hard in his trousers and it seemed the whole scene was affecting him just as much as you as he began to whisper praise in your ear.

Soon enough, Ray's persistence began to pay off and you felt yourself grow closer to the edge, but as your thighs closed around his hand involuntarily, you felt his foot kick at you calf. "Keep your legs open or you'll regret it." There was no force in the kick, it was nothing more than a tap but for a moment, you felt the same level of helplessness that you imagine the men who ran afoul of him felt when he kicked them to the ground.

You planted your feet on the ground and forced yourself to keep your legs still. "I'm sorry."

He smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your neck as he slid his free hand down your body to run your clit. "Hush, just be the good girl I know you can." While the push of the hilt remained languid, his fingers were fast and the juxtaposition was as confusing as it was enrapturing. "Are you going to come for me?"

You nodded. "Yes, if you want me to."

He smiled as his teeth nipped at your shoulder. "Of course I do." All most as if by magic, you fell into bliss as he sucked a mark into your skin. It was wave after wave of intensity while he poured praise over you like you were Venus in the shell. He slowly slid the handle from you, and you heard it thud before he untied you, allowing you to lean your back against his chest as you found your legs. "Can I have you tonight or will it be too much?"

You shook your head. "No, I don't want to stop."

"Good." He took your hand and led you to the side of the bed, pulling back the covers and gesturing for you to lie down while he undressed. The carefulness was a show in itself, each item coming off slowly before being folded and placed down on a chair. He was deceptively large under his clothes and watching his cock spring free as he slid his black boxers down his legs had your mouth watering.

He shot you a cocky grin as he closed the distance and climbed onto the bed, manhandling you until you were lying under him. He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as one hand trailed down your body so he could lift your legs over his waist. He shifted onto his elbow as his hand slid up your thigh then between you, wrapping around his cock so he could line himself up.

He met eyes with you, his expression going soft. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he groaned, his hips twitching as he fought to maintain control of himself. "Fucken 'll Love, your cunt could kill a man." His whole body coiled as his hips started to shift, a rhythm that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each stroke. You clung to him, trying to match his pace as he pushed you closer to the edge. After the steel of the flogger hilt, Ray's cock felt positivity molten and the heat of bare skin against yours had a comforting heat spreading from every point of contact.

His words had turned into a hushed prayer, said more to himself than you as he wove a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. "Come on Love, you gotta come for me."

It happened slowly this time, a radiating warmth emanating from his cock, through your core and to the tips of your fingers and toes. His pace picked up as he chased his own high, the hand that was on your clit curling into your hip in a pushing clasp as he neared the edge. He took you in a kiss, equal part loving and rough as you felt him pulse inside you, and his muscles faltered as his hips stuttered and his weight fell on you.

His forehead rested on yours as he caught his breath, gazing into your eyes lovingly as he smiled softly. "Thank you."

You giggled. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

He chuckled and rolled off you, bringing you with him as you rested your head on his chest. "No, you are the one that is so ready to give yourself to me whenever and for whatever I ask and I'll always be grateful for that."

You sighed and pressed your lips to his chest. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

He smiled and brushed his fingers over your cheek. "Yeah, well when you're ready I'm going to run you a bath and get you clean up then we can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded. "It sounds good. I love you Ray."

His lips were soft when he placed them on your forehead. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Zoom In.

Muggle AU, professor of 18C literature and poetry Draco, celebrity Harry ✨️

~

Violet was the first to log in - again. In the minutes before class began - in the "waiting room" - while she stared at her blank screen, it felt like the only real few moments she truly had to herself.

She spent all those moments, like so many others, thinking about Professor Malfoy.

To every single straight girl, and the singular gay guy, in class, Professor Malfoy was prime wank material. Violet hadn't known her classmates to be as desperate for a good word on their assignments from any other professor. To think homework would feature so high on the to-do lists of some of the biggest lunkheads she knew...there was definitely something about him, that Professor Malfoy.

She could see the appeal. The eerily pale eyes, hair, and skin made to appear warmer by the fluffy jumpers - all in elegant shades of scarlet, burgundy, emerald, wine, golden yellow - he wore over crisply ironed button-downs and tailored trousers; the way he used his hands when he talked, long fingers like a pianist's; the slim golden spectacles he was constantly misplacing on his own head, the rich precision with which he pronounced the olde names and subjects that he spoke of - it was very difficult not to admire Professor Malfoy.

All of that, but nobody really knew much about him outside of uni.

They'd switched to virtual classes a week ago; hurrah for the new pandemic. The idea that she didn't have to sit in class with her tittering classmates, a stray cough sounding now and again, made Violet automatically sit up straighter and smile, just as the little boxes on her screen began popping into life.

"Aaaayyyy!"

"Tell me we don't need to have our faces on display."

"So, yes, before anyone asks: this is a real lip ring. An actual piercing. Yeah, I'm not blowing you, Greg, sod off."

"Is Professor Malfoy on?"

"No, I don't see him here yet. Did he grade your essay?"

"Yo, can someone please tell me how to turn this camera off, I am smashed out my--"

"Click on the camera icon, Bryan--"

"It's not even noon, what d'you mean "smashed"?

"No, you've turned off your mic. No, we cannot hear you screaming."

"First icon on the bottom left," Violet said, rolling her eyes.

And then Professor Malfoy was in class.

There was a beat of silence before everyone called out greetings, a chaotic round of cheerful hello's that nobody could quite make sense of. Least of all Professor Malfoy.

He was peering into his screen, his slim nose scrunched.

"All right, so I can see me. Can you?"

Cacophonic confirmations.

"Okay, so nobody can see or hear me. Right."

More shrill reassurances. One loud beer-belch.

"Damn it all to hell, I knew this would happen, I told him that I'll need--"

"We can see you!" shrieked Preiti.

"We can hear you!" Nora bellowed.

But Professor Malfoy was already twisting around in his chair, scowling heavily, and screaming, "OY! COME IN HERE, YOU MISERABLE WANKER!"

Violet, along with her classmates, just stared in mystified silence. The professor never spoke like that. He ticked them off if they did.

A tall figure in a too big hoodie appeared suddenly, hissing back at Professor Malfoy. There was a golden lion printed on the maroon jacket. The hood was drawn in close, and Violet could just barely make out the light from the computer screen glinting off a pair of round glasses, on which a shaggy fringe of dark hair fell.

"You need to turn the volume up. Git," said the stranger. "Your camera's already on."

"I hate technology," Professor Malfoy seethed.

"You hate so much else. I'm getting fish and chips." The man was already walking off.

"I want mushy peas too, with mine."

"What kind of sick bastard." The room door was shut with a thud.

"Sorry about all that. We are now officially in session," Professor Malfoy said, smiling and restoring his glasses upon his nose. "Do you all have--?"

There was a muffled shout from somewhere behind the professor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Professor Malfoy called back, "No. No, I don't want a curry dipping sauce."

There was more muffled yelling.

"Harry, get out right now!" shrieked Professor Malfoy, and Violet, along with the others, just ogled.

Malfoy sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. Just my idiot husband."

"You're married?!" Violet had asked before she could stop herself.

Professor Malfoy sighed, flipping open a thick, spiral bound folder. "Yes. You've heard of Harry Potter, I'm sure. He's the poor idiot I married."

[artificialbreezy]

Hey let's imagine Jolly chasing you down with a mask on and holding a knife to you while he fucks you hard and makes you cry(cause the crying turns him on)

i’ll never know peace with you, god fucking dammit. sorry i switched up a teeny tiny bit i got so mf carried away.

This blurb may contain content that is unsettling to some, please continue with caution. your mental health matters.

TW: a game of cat and mouse (he chases her), masks, crying, mean!jolly, knife play, a teeny tiny bit of blood, no actual p in v, mentions of breeding

it’s his favorite game. before he leaves for tour he sends you up the cabin, just so you can relax and decompress and he’ll join you when he gets home. he’ll go straight there from the airport.

and you never hear his car pull up, you’re too invested in the book you’re reading when the lights just go out. the panic is only a little at the moment, you’ll go outside, down by the tree line and check the box. quick and easy fix right? wrong.

something in your gut told you not to go down there, stay right in that cabin. go find your phone and call Jolly. he should’ve landed by now. you decided against your better judgement you were fine, nothing bad has ever happened here before.

when you hear the snaps of the branches, and the breathing of someone else behind you that’s when the panic fully set in. no shoes, no phone, just run.

you’d never been in the woods before, Jolly always told you there was no need. he’d take you eventually. you didn’t know where you were going and how you ended up thinking that the woods was the place to hide but fuck it.

seeing what you thought to be a tree, you ran off to the side a little hoping you could catch your breath before you went any further.

what did i get myself into? Jolly’s gonna get home and see my car and not me in the cabin, my phones there and i’m not. oh my god, he’s gonna find me dead. thoughts were running rapid in your brain. this can’t be real. crouching down next to the tree trunk, you set your hand out to balance yourself to met with a shoe, and a dark chuckle.

you didn’t have time to scream before his hand was over your mouth. tears falling at a rapid pace, panic flooding your veins. all you could do was cry.

“missed you a lot, can’t believe you ran from me, pet.” voice was muffled by whatever was covering his face. “promise i won’t hurt you too bad, just wanna play a little game.”

“i’ll give you a head start. i catch you, i ruin you.” his voice was just above a whisper. “run, little lamb.”

my feet were moving faster than my brain. just go. get inside. hide.

i hit the cement outside the front door, a wave of safety rushed over me. taking a breath, i reached for the door knob when a hand much larger than mine pushed itself against the door. “caught you.”

no sounds came out of my mouth, just freezing in time. unable to process fully what was happening, why i was excited, what was gonna happen to me, why was he chasing me?

he stepped forward, placing his hands against my hips. “remember the safe word?” he spoke. “yes,”

that’s all he needed. he picked up, putting half my body over his shoulder. his one hand opening the door, the other creeping up the back of my thigh.

Jolly didn’t have to walk far since the cabin was pretty small. i was falling onto the bed before i had a moment to think. “Jolly, lights”

“no. you trust me yeah?” you nodded up at him. “then you don’t get to see. you’ll feel what i give you, and you’ll say thank you. read that little book i over heard you talking about. does all that dirty, fucked up stuff turn your little brain into mush?”

his hand disappeared from my body. listening to the sound of rustling next the bed. “been thinking about all that gross, mean things huh?” there was a piece of cold metal against my ankle, slowly dragging it closer to my center.

he pressed the point into the flesh of my thigh harder, a sharp pain shooting up your leg. “pain is pleasure, pet. always remember that.” the metal no longer cold, and unwelcoming.

“thank you, Jolly.” breathless words leaving my lips.

he chuckled, dragging the blade up the front of my thighs. stopping once he reached the lace of my panties. “think if i were to press this against your cunt, you make it shine?” the back of the blade worked its way against the clothed part of my center. pushing against the damp spot that’s been building since i felt his breath at the tree line.

“would you look at that? think you really are pathetic. this turning you on that much? don’t even need to get you prepped huh? could just slip right in there. listen to the sweet whine that you make when i stretch out your cunt after a while.”

rolling my hips against the blade, a whine rolling out of my throat. his big hand pressed firmly on my lower stomach, pushing me back against the bed. “stay. still.” he grumbled.

his fingers pushed the lace away from my slit, soft touch against my skin. “mmm, knew you’d be ready. you’re fucking soaked, already making such a mess.” finger slowly slipping into my hole, “she’s just sucking me in, pet. think she needs more? bet you do, greedy fucking cunt.” his other hand pressing a smack against my thigh.

“feel you squeezing, you close already? fucking pathetic.” his finger curled slightly, lips pressing soft kisses against my mound. “she just needs to be filled up, huh? needs to have my cum leaking out of her just for me to push right back in, can’t waste any of it. wanna see you nice and round. bet you’d like that, walking around showing everyone who you belong to.”

“fucking, shit. Jolly, please.” begging the man to let you have it.

“yeah, come on. let me feel you, baby. ohh, atta girl. there is she.”

his fingers stilled, head laying against my leg. “did so good, thank you for trusting me.”

“always, love you tons.”

i felt his cheeks move, telling me he was smiling.

“i love you too, let’s get this light on and you cleaned up.”

[vintagestarlight]

Couple's Trip

Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask

Pairing: John Price x gf!reader

Words:~ 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!

A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)

A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!

***beware of typos lol

Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.

Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.

"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.

"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.

"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"

"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.

You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.

"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.

You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.

You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.

Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.

You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.

Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.

These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.

You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.

“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.

“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.

******

“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.

You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"

“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”

[chroniclesofbts]

Break my Walls P.7

Genre: A/B/O, Poly BTS and Reader

Warnings: angst, omegaspace, eventual smut, slow burn, angst, fluff, polyamorous relationship, sexual themes, implied sexual interactions, name calling, cursing.

If you’re not 18+ please, do not interact.

As always, my works do not represent BTS in any way, this is purely a work of fiction.

3 years ago

"Thank you for meeting with me Kang Dae, I'm sure you are very busy, especially with the Choi Pack pulling their support. I wonder, how many packs will follow" Namjoon begins, taunting him.

"I don't think anyone will, we have strong allies, Kim" Kang replies, icily.

"That's not what we have been hearing" Jin voices

"Shut it, Omega, let your Alpha do the talking" Kang barks, causing the entire Kim pack to growl.

"I would chose my words very carefully Kang, we happen to have a lot of information about your underhand deals that I am sure the council would love to hear about." Yoongi spits out at the man, unable to hold the bite in his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Kang speaks, playing dumb.

"Lack of education for omegas, use of omegas as pleasure objects and breeding, omega negligence, trading omegas for alphas with other packs, murder of omegas and pups alike, shall I go on? I am sure you don't need to be reminded about the Im pack." Namjoon starts

"What do you want, Kim" Kang demands

"An omega and for you to leave our pack out of every affair you have" Namjoon states simply.

"An omega, take your pick!" He exclaims, "whoever you want, but after, you leave and never return"

"Y/N" Yoongi states, leaving no room for discussion.

"Ah, I am afraid she has already been traded. She was due for training but a buddy of mine wanted a nice fresh omega with no training for their packs impending rut cycles. She was the perfect candidate, had I known you had a soft spot-" he was cut off by Namjoon shoving him to the wall by his throat. Tightening his hand on his throat, Namjoon glared heatedly at the pathetic man clawing at his hand.

"When" Namjoon grit out.

"Yesterday I made the deal, she left 20 minutes ago' Kang wheezed.

"Which pack" Yoongi questioned, inches away from harming the alpha.

"Blackthorn, in America" Kang lied, praying they wouldn't see through him.

"You just made a huge mistake" Namjoon stated, dropping Kang and leaving the pack in a hurry.

"We were too late, weren't we?" Jimin whimpered, taking in the anger on his pack members faces from where he and the others had been waiting outside the office.

"We will find her again, even if we have to search in every pack for her. Hopefully we aren't too late" He whispers the last part to himself.

3 days prior to the Lunar Ceremony

Looking around at his pack, Namjoon can feel the lack of hope of finding her. They have searched every pack in North and South America. We even went back to the Kang pack, only to find out that Kang was killed during an attack from another pack.

"Joon, we have another invitation to a Lunar Ceremony. This one has 7 packs total invited." Jin spoke, breaking Namjoon from his thoughts.

"7 packs? That's smaller than normal. Who is the host, any packs we know attending?" He questions

"Hosted by the Moon pack, we haven't seen them in what, 5 years? The only name I recognize on here is the Im pack." Jin replied, "Should I respond the same as the rest of the packs?"

"Say yes, they have been our allies for a long time, we should make sure they know we are still allies with all of the attacks going on recently" Namjoon replied, "I will let the rest of the pack know to prepare some bags. Ask about staying on their territory, the Maknae's need to let loose some."

Present Day

Y/N's POV

I stare at the box on my porch, holding the dress from Jisoo. Grabbing the box, I sigh and take it inside. I walk into my room and set it on my nest, going to take a shower to scrub off the sweat from setting up all day. I make sure to shower quickly, in case I do decide to go to the Lunar Ceremony. I walk over to my nest and open the box, pulling the dress out and setting it carefully on my bed. The dress is made of a silk material, has thin straps that cross multiple times on the back, a split corset in the front, and a high thigh split. The dress was beautiful, it would be a waste to not be worn. I put the dress on, heart starting to race with how well it fits me. I decide that going to the ceremony for a few hours wouldn't hurt and since I'm wearing red I shouldn't be approached by any other packs. I curl my hair and do light make up, since it will be dark I don't want anything drawing attention to me. I look at the time and realize I am already running late. I put on my sandals and begin the trek to the woods. I can already hear the music playing, and the voices of the packs celebrating.

"Y/N! You came!" Chan yelled across the woods, I cringed already regretting my decision. Chan runs over to me and wraps me in a big hug, "I am so happy you came, you're going to have so much fun!"

"I can still go back" I state, shimmying my way out of his arms.

"Come on, come show Jisoo the dress on you" He exclaims, dragging me towards Jisoo and the rest of the pack.

"I knew it would look amazing on you! Are you sure you don't want to find a pack of your own?" Jisoo questions, standing in a skin-tight sleeveless red dress. "Almost every pack is here, why don't you help Chan find a pack tonight" Jisoo prompts, pushing us both to the closest pack with yellow dresses and shirts on.

"Hi! Im pack" The tallest man says, "I'm Jay, I see you're a part of Jisoo's pack, and you're looking for a pack to join" he smiled at Chan, who, for once, looked timid.

"Hi, I'm Y/N!" I said, "This is Chan, he's normally not like this, I typically can't get him to stop talking." I joke, linking arms with Chan, "I think he just needs some food in his system, feel free to find him later." I smile and guide him towards the food.

"Alright, hot shot, what happened" I question.

"I don't know, I just wasn't feeling the connection" He whispered.

"So, you want to find your mate, or mates, and their pack?"

"I guess, I just hear about them and is it wrong to think that I could have one or more mates?"

"I think that you find your own pack and they become mates, or else we wouldn't have so many packs that form and separate." I share, "But we will find the perfect pact for you, I promise, I know how much this means to you" I comfort him.

"Thank you, I know this isn't your thing, but it means a lot to me" He responds

"I think you have some admirers" I nudge Chan towards the two men wearing white and standing on the edge of the forest.

"They're beautiful" Chan whispered. I grab his hand and pull him towards the two, causing their eyes to widen. I push Chan slightly in their direction and watch him walk the rest of the way on his own. If this is the only thing to come of the night, it was worth coming. I turn to head back to the table of food when I smell lavender and coconut, stopping me in my tracks. They can't be here, Jisoo wouldn't befriend packs like them. I look around in alarm, trying to pinpoint where he is, when orange blossom and lilac invades my senses. My heart begins to bleed from the wounds I thought had healed. The aching returning full force. I lock eyes with Jisoo, and standing right in front of her is a face I will never forget, Kim Seokjin. Jisoo points in my direction, causing Jin to whip around and search the area. I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, hair standing on edge. What if Kang wants me back, I can't go back with everything that I know. So focused on staying out of Jin's line of sight, I don't realize that the scent of lavender and coconut getting closer. I turn, ready to flee, when I run straight into a chest, Jung Hoseok. I slowly lift my eyes up and meet his, the smile on his face and tears in his eyes make me pause in my steps.

"We though you were dead" He whispered, brokenly. "Kang-"

"No" I cut him off, "I don't know why you came, or what you gain, but I want no part in it" I speak, words full of venom. His face morphs into shock, then hurt.

"What? What are you talking about, we-" He starts again, only to be cut off by another voice from behind me.

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice asked, raspy as if he hadn't been using it very often.

I take a deep breath and push past Hoseok, not wanting to stay for any more reunions.

"Wait!" Jimin yelled, grabbing my arm and turning me towards him. "Have you been here the whole time? You were never in America?" He asked.

"Why would I have gone to America? Of course I have been here the whole time, didn't have much choice. Your pack saw to that, thanks, by the way" I jerked my arm out of his hand, and walked away.

"My pack did what?" Namjoon's voice questioned.

"I don't have time to go down memory lane" I respond, continuing my pathing to my house.

"You joined the Moon pack?" Jin's voice came, full of emotion.

"No mark though" Hoseok said.

"I didn't, I don't want a pack. That's why I am in her pack colors, so people leave me alone" I comment, "not that its working"

"Y/N, please, talk to us" Jungkook's voice came. By now we had made it to my house, just as it started to rain. I unlocked my door, paused and cursed myself for being a good person, and held the door open for the pack to enter.

"I don't know where your lodging is, but my house isn't close to anything so, unless you want to get soaked, you should get inside" I say, watching the rain get harder.

"Thank you" They chorused as they entered.

"You guys look like shit" I point out, seeing the bags under their eyes and the lifeless eyes.

"I- we know" Namjoon said, "Can you tell us what happened if you didn't go to America? We were told you were traded to a pack in America, we search all of the packs in both North and South America"

"Why? Wanted to rub it in my face that you and Kang broke me? Turned me into a bad omega?" I spat

"Turned you- What are you talking about?"Jin demanded

"I was taken 'shopping' over here, then left in the cold with nothing. You just had to play with me, test if I was following Kang's rules, then tell him how bad I failed"

"We weren't working with Kang" Yoongi said angrily, "We were blackmailing him to get you out of his pack and into ours"

"Right, sure" I say, not convinced, "The rain will clear in the next hour, I want you gone when it ends" I turn and walk to my room to change. I open my door, aware of the eyes on my back. I walk to the bathroom and take a shower, trying to heat up my body, feeling the shock wearing off. I can't hold the tears back, covering my mouth to keep the sobs from reaching the pack in the living room. I feel the water start to turn cold, deciding to get out before I freeze. I change into sweatpants and a loose T-Shirt Chan left the last time he was over. I glance up as a knock rings out on my door, dreading the conversation I know is coming.

"Come in" I call, waiting to see who it is. Jimin's head pokes around the door, eyes widening at the sight of my nest.

"You nest!" He shouts excitedly, causing footsteps to come pounding towards my room. Jin pushed the door open, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, tears filling his eyes.

"Oh my, it's beautiful" Jin whispered, causing me to shrink back into my nest.

"Did you need something?" I ask, looking at Jimin.

"We want to explain our side, but maybe not all of us. It may be easier if Jin or Joon explain, or both" He said, his arm going up to scratch his neck.

"Please" Jin begged, "Let us tell you what happened on our side"

"Okay, but after, you leave" I agree. Jin and Namjoon make their way into the room, "Jimin too, I have questions"

The rest of the pack left to the living room, leaving Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin standing in the middle of my room. They sit on the ground in front of my nest, not daring to ask to enter.

"We went to the Kang pack on behalf of the Choi pack, along with the Lee pack. Choi was withdrawing their help and alliance to Kang due to the trading of omegas illegally. When we did some digging, with help of some information from you. Lack of education for omegas, use of omegas as pleasure objects and breeding, omega negligence, trading omegas for alphas with other packs, murder of omegas and pups, we just- I couldn't let you stay. Our pack had taken to you faster than anyone we've ever met. We went as a pack the morning you had disappeared to ask for you in exchange for us not going to the council and Kang said he gave you to a buddy in America. Yoongi almost killed hime right there. We left immediately for America and searched every pack, only to find out he lied about America. When we went back, Kang was dead. We found you by luck, our pack isn't like Kang's. You have to believe us." Namjoon finished.

"That's why I woke up alone in your nest" I directed my statement to Jimin, who nodded.

"If I had known what was going to happen, I would have never left. We had to have the meeting as a pack, Kang demanded it, now we know why." Jimin spoke, keeping his eyes to the ground.

"Well, I don't know what I believe, but thank you for explaining. You can go now" I say, feeling the hole in my chest getting bigger. I shouldn't have gone tonight, it only led to confusion and opened wounds.

"We will be here for the rest of the week, if you want to talk" Jin said, standing up and leading Jimin out of the room.

"Sweet dreams Y/N" Namjoon said, closing the door behind him. I listened for the front door to close before closing my eyes and letting the tears fall.

Taglist open

@braveangel777 @minjianhyung @kiki-zb @svnbangtansworld @m00njinnie

[muenbear]

Cuddles - Ace x Reader

Repost cuz i accidentally deleted my 1st acc lmao

A one shot of Ace needing cuddles after a trip, I can imagine him being so clingy cuz he misses you! :3

Enjoy!

———————————————————-

The Moby Dick sailed through the calm seas. You were in your comfy room, putting on some light makeup, waiting for your boyfriend to come back from his 2-week long trip.

There was a knock on your door. "Hey Y/N, Ace is back!" you heard Marco yell behind the door. You quickly rushed and ran out the door, the whitebeard pirates were loud and cheering, happy to see Ace back.

"Darling~!" Ace sprinted towed you and engulfed you in a tight hug. "I missed you so much! How was your trip?" You smiled and returned his tight hug.

"I missed you too, so much!" He nudged your nose with his and turned to the crew. "We can celebrate later you guys! I need some alone time with my girl!" He smirked picked you up bridal style and walked towards your shared room, the crew will definitely make fun of you two lovebirds later.

Ace plopped you onto the fluffy bed and laid close to you, nearly on top of you, careful not to crush you. You could feel the tension in his muscles as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Gently, you ran your fingers through his raven-black hair, offering a silent reassurance that he was home, safe with you.

"I missed your touch" Ace mumbled into the crook of your neck.

You let out a soft laugh. Ace is always attention-seeking after his trips without you. "Me too, tell me about your trip!" your arms encircling him in a tender embrace.

"I had to deal with those Marines again," Ace grumbled, his frustration evident in his voice. "They just don't know when to quit, i was just minding my own business."

You listened attentively, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back. As he recounted the events of the day, you offered words of encouragement and understanding. Your connection with Ace was a source of strength for both of you.

He started mumbling more and his eyes were drooping. "Thanks for always listening to my boring stories my darling" he planted a few gentle kisses on your neck. "They are fun to listen to since I don't get to go to so many places" you gave him a kiss on the forehead and pulled a blanket over the two of you.

"I see, also you are so beautiful, how I've missed your smile.....Thanks for being mine," he mumbled, his voice softer now as his eyes closed.

"Always glad to be yours Ace" you smiled and closed your eyes as well.

The room filled with a comforting silence as the two of you simply enjoyed each other's presence. Ace's exhaustion began to weigh heavier on him, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. You smiled down at his peaceful face, grateful for the moments of peace you could share in the midst of the busy pirate's life.

With Ace in a peaceful slumber, you allowed yourself to revel in the quiet joy of being with the man you loved. The Moby Dick sailed on, carrying its crew and their dreams through the vastness of the Grand Line.

The next morning when you woke up, Ace was already gone from the bed, probably outside catching up with his friends.

There was a glistening palm-sized seashell in the bedside table, a note under it : "Got this for you from a beach I stopped at, I know you love collecting these! I love you <3 -Ace :P"

You smiled and put it gently into the box under the bed, one that is filled with various seashells Ace has brought back for you from every trip.

—————————————————

Hope you like ^^!

[veronicaphoenix]

wrapped in winter embers | n.s.

One-shot ✨ Pairing: noah sebastian x fem. reader

Tags and cw: Established relationship. Christmas fluff with sexual content, hot chocolate, snow, and oral sex (both receiving), p in v, slight bondage, unprotected sex, chocolate and marshmallows included, mentions of pregnancy, and a glittery dick (yes, read to find out what I’m talking about). Not beta read. Just needed to get this out of my head. Enjoy :) | AO3

WRAPPED IN WINTER EMBERS

I found myself sitting in awe before the giant Christmas tree that had been set up in the expansive living room of our recently acquired home. We had moved in a mere ten months ago, and I had been looking forward to Christmas so that I could put a giant pine tree in the corner and decorate it from top to bottom. It had been a recurring dream of mine since childhood.

            The tree had been brought in that morning, but Noah and I hadn’t started decorating until afternoon. I’d been running some errands in the morning while Noah took care of the delivery, and I nearly screamed when I entered the house and saw the tree in the space in the corner that we had left specially for it. 

            As the kitchen was cleared from our lunch and the house assumed a soothing sense of order, Noah and I set up to spend that afternoon and evening adorning the tree and extending the holidays spirit throughout the house. 

            We put some cute decorations in the entrance and had also placed small figurines and pots with artificial greenery and snow on the furniture around the house. Our main dining table and the coffee table in front of the television had also been adorned with delightful stuff that we had bought in a shopping Christmas trip we did to Target last week.

            Now that we had a place of our own, it was the first time we put two red stockings on the fireplace with our names on them, and it was so lovely. 

            Nearly an hour into the tree decoration, we ran out of ornaments, and Noah decided to make a quick trip to a store in town to get some more. I told him it was not necessary. We could go together on Monday, but he insisted, given that tomorrow would be Sunday and the shops would be closed, and our tree would remain unfinished for another day and a half. 

            He pecked me on the lips as he zipped his winter jacket and left after grabbing the house and car keys from the small tray we kept in the entrance. I told him to drive safe, given that it was snowing outside. It wasn’t much but enough to cover the ground about two inches. 

            By the time Noah came back, not more than twenty minutes later, I was sat on the floor, busying myself rearranging the twinkling ornaments to sooth my OCD. I couldn’t shake the feeling that both sides of the tree were stuffed unevenly, and it was driving me nuts.  

            The content smile on my face fell as I looked towards the entrance, where he was struggling to remove his boots while his hands were fully occupied. I stood up, leaving a golden garland on the floor and quickly walked to him.  

            “What’s all this?” I asked, grabbing one of the boxes that he carried in his arms, clearing his vision, hitherto obscured by the cardboard monolith.  “You should’ve called me. I would have gone outside to help you bring these in.”

            “It’s freezing outside, baby. I didn’t want you to get cold. Besides, it wasn’t a problem.”

            “You would’ve probably tripped on the carpet and fallen on top of these,” I said, smiling sheepishly at him after I set the box I carried next to the tree. 

            “Yeah, and that would have been so much fun for you, right?”

            I moved my shoulders up and down, feigning an innocent expression. 

            “Yes, play good girl all you want, princess.” He set down the other box and removed his jacket, walking back to the house entrance to keep it in the main wardrobe. He came back, clad in his Bad Omens hoodie, sweatpants, and the winter socks that I had recently got him from a new shop that had opened in town. He took a seat on the carpet next to me. “How is it going?” He asked regarding my work during his absence. While waiting for my answer, he ripped the tape of one of the boxes and opened it, diving into its contents.

            “Well, how does it look?” I moved back, leaning on his shoulder so that we could assess the tree together from a small distance. 

            He hummed in satisfaction and proceeded to empty the boxes. There was so much stuff in them that I thought we would have to buy another tree, after all. Maybe a small one that we could put outside on the porch. Not a bad idea. 

            “Oh, you got the glittery ones?” I asked as I held a box of eight perfect Christmas balls painted in vibrant glossy red and coated with a golden layer of glitter. 

            “I know you said to get the plain shiny ones,” he replied, finishing unpacking and setting the different plastic bags and cases containing all kinds of ornaments in one side. “But these ones looked so good.”

            “There will be glitter everywhere for months. This thing is super static, but yeah, they look nice. Thanks.”

            As we busied ourselves unpacking some of the things, I noticed a couple of garlands and a satin ribbon that look extremely similar to the velvety ones that Noah kept upstairs, in our bedroom. I looked up at him, wondering what had been on his mind when he entered the Christmas shop downtown, but he was distracted removing the plastic from some other random decorations. 

            We spent the next hour finishing the tree. Two weeks ago, I had bought a ladder on Amazon, thinking that it would be helpful for events like this, but truth was that I hadn’t really thought much before purchasing it, and it ended up being pretty useless, especially when Noah was around. 

            After hearing his complaints about the ladder for a solid five minutes, I gave up and I asked him to pick me up, much to his satisfaction. He willingly crouched down (with a grin on his face) to let me hop onto his shoulders, and as he straightened up, the world beneath me transformed. Everything certainly looked different from up here, and it was also a bit scary. 

            “Be still,” I told him. The only way I could grab onto him as I set the star on top of the tree was by tightening my thighs against his head. 

            “Ease that grip, tigress. I’m not going to let you fall,” he replied, holding onto my thighs with his hands. 

When the final touch was complete, I clapped, full of joy. Noah, seizing the opportunity, thought it would be funny to start swaying right and left, threatening to dislodge me from his shoulders. I clutched at his hair, using it as an anchor and pulling whenever I thought I was going to fall down, and his laughter morphed into a sudden yelp of pain. I gave his shoulder a playful slap, scolding him, only to be met with another round of sways. I lost my balance, but he was prepared to catch me and wrapped his arms around me as I wrapped my limbs around his slender, towering frame. By the time I bit his neck, we were both laughing, filling the cozy space of our home with the sound. 

He trailed a path of kisses and lovely nib bites down my neck and sternum, causing me to shiver. Sensing my slight chill, Noah proposed starting a fire and preparing hot chocolate.

I was clearing out the plastic and empty envelopes strewn across the floor when he queried if I wanted cream and marshmallows on my drink. I wasn’t very keen on the cream, but that day I fancied some marshmallows, and I replied with a delighted “yes, please” from the living room. Even though the kitchen seamlessly melded into the living room, I was out of Noah’s sight, positioned on the other side of the sofa. In the background Christmas music played from a speaker nestled in a corner of the kitchen counter.  

The mug warmed up my hands when Noah offered to me. He kissed my hair and let me sit back down in front of the tree to wonder where we could put the rest of the new decorations. Noah took a seat in his favorite armchair, a cozy grey piece that we found in a second-hand furniture shop and that he had sent for repairing. He loved spending hours there when he was reading a book or whenever he was on a phone call that extended for too long. Whenever I was alone in the house or he was locked in his studio, I would steal his place and sit there myself, cozy up with a blanket and a good book and wait until he come back. He would feign shock at the fact that I was sitting on his favorite spot, he would pick me up and carry me to the sofa, where I would keep my hold on him to avoid him getting away. Many evenings that winter we had fallen asleep on the sofa, Noah on top of me, after a slow kissing session driven by our playful fight about the armchair. Some other times we would end up having delicious sex. 

            For a while, it was quiet in the house, the tranquil hush only interrupted by the occasional noise I made while playing around with the Christmas decorations. The air carried the warm essence of hot chocolate, infused with the comforting aroma of cinnamon and the warmth coming from the fireplace. As I took in how happy I was, I looked at Noah, who was responsible for making this dream of mine a reality. He was sat slouched in his armchair, scrolling down on his phone as he indulged in the warm drink. His legs were casually parted, and he looked so damn good in his black sweatpants. I knew from experience how good I fitted between those two legs. Memories from previous times sparked a sudden yearning, heat coiling up in the pit of my stomach. 

            In a matter of seconds, my attention shifted from the adorned tree and Christmas trinkets. I moved silently toward him, crawling my way between his legs until I was seated on my knees, on my heels, in front of him, right between his legs. I looked up and bat my eyelashes. 

            Noah moved the hand that was holding the mug aside and directed his gaze downward, meeting mine.  

            “Hi, there, pretty girl.”

            I licked my lips and slid my hands from his knees to his thighs.  

            “What are you doing?” He asked. Oh, he knew very well. “You wanna suck me?”

            “Yeah.”

            There was a moment of hesitation in his actions, probably because he was taking in my proposition and was being consumed by the sudden excitement inside of him. He kept the mug and his iPhone on a small wooden table by the armchair.

            “Go on, kitten.”

            One of his hands moved to the back of my head and encouraged me forward. My hands found the waistband of his sweatpants. I pulled them down alongside his underwear as he lifted his hips for two seconds. 

            My throat went dry at the sight in front of me. He was already half hard. I hadn’t even touched him, and he was already eager at the idea of my mouth on him. 

            I leaned down, opening my mouth. I licked the head once. It was salty, earthy. All man. I lapped at him again, hearing him hissing in a breath, and delved right into it, filling my mouth with his thickening length. His hands found the back of my head, fisting my hair. He buckled up slowly, forcing me to take him all in, until I had him at the back of my throat. My mouth felt overfull as I worked him back up and down, his little whimpers and curses filling my ears. 

            I moved back once, his hand freeing my hair and his cock slipping from my lips. I licked them, looking intently at him. He smiled wide and bright, and brushed some strands of hair out of my face and onto the back of my ear. 

            “Keep going, baby.”

            Taking a deep breath, I leaned in again, sliding his cock in against my tongue, setting a blistering pace. “That’s it. Fuck. Deeper? Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”

            The taste of him suffused me. I held onto his thighs as he slid in and out of my mouth. One of his hands found support on my hair again, something that he loved doing. I knew he was almost there as I felt him tensing his grip on my hair and how his hips snapped forward and his head fell back on the recliner. He was losing it. I was enamored with the image of him in that state, even if I couldn’t engorge myself too much on it because I was busy with his cock in my mouth. If anything, knowing how powerless he was in that moment, how vulnerable he was for me, I sucked him deeper, tightening my mouth around his thick length, and playing with my tongue as I felt him pulsing inside and I heard his whimpers increase. A salty liquid coated my tongue and the back of my throat. I struggled to swallow, but I did it as I slowly slid him out of me. 

            He muttered a curse as his whole body released from the high. I stayed on my knees, licking my lips, and watching him with utter adoration. I would spend the whole day worshipping him like this if he’d let me. 

            “I don’t know what Christmas gift you’re planning to get me, but trust me,” he said, taking a pause to regain his breathing, “nothing will beat this up.” 

            “I’ll take note of it,” I joked. 

            After a moment, he kicked his sweatpants away from his feet, bent forward and helped me get up from the floor. He lifted me onto him and settled me on his bare lap. 

            “What a lucky motherfucker I am,” he whispered. With a hand on the back of my neck, he pushed my face down onto his and I drowned in the kiss. 

            We kissed for a while, oblivious to the snow falling outside and the cracking of the fire behind us. When I pulled away, Noah’s cheeks were flushed pink. I moved a few strands of hair out of his face, and he studied mine for a second or two before picking me up and standing up. 

            “Is your period over?”

            I nodded. 

            “Choose: the kitchen isle or the carpet?”

            The idea of both scenarios made me wet.

Wetter. 

            “Both?” I appealed. 

            “Someone’s cheeky today, huh?” He noted with hint of amusement. 

He walked us to the kitchen isle. 

            “I’m feeling festive.”

            “Sure you are,” he replied, holding a laugh. 

            He set me on the isle, and I let out a little scream at the cold surface. I was wearing grey leggings and the layer of fabric was very thin. I could feel the cold spreading through every inch of my body. 

            “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to heat you up so badly you’re going to beg me to switch on the AC.” 

            He captured my mouth in his again. He pushed me back, forcing me to lay down on my back, my skin protected by the white top and the oversized sweater I was wearing. He ordered to lift my hips and he removed my socks, leggings and underwear, eyeing them and lifting a brow. 

            “Someone’s very aroused,” he said, eyeing the embarrassing stain covering my panties. 

            “Clearly,” I replied, pointing with my eyes at his growing erection. 

            “Bratty girl”, his voice got muffled by the fabric of his hoodie and shirt coming out. 

            I was going to say something but then two of his fingers slid down my curls and then to my folds, and the words got stuck in my throat. 

            “Fuck, Noah.”

            “That’s what I’m gonna do: fuck you.” He slid a finger in. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation brought by the movement induced by his long finger, sliding in and out in a tortuous dance. “But I need to have a taste first. Isn’t it wonderful that this isle has the perfect size for me to get on my knees and dip my mouth between your legs?” 

            I didn’t have time to think or utter another word before his tongue was on me. I gasped and struggled for my next breath, but he didn’t care. He toyed with me, slipping another finger and fondling my walls, sticking to his promise of heating me up. I couldn’t feel the cold of the marble anymore. I could only feel his warmth breath on my skin, the texture of his tongue lapping at my clit. He was fucking talented, and I could only give in to his pleasure, which moved to another level when he moved back, stood up, and grabbed his cock in his hand to guide it towards my entrance. 

            “You look so pretty all wet and ready for me.”

            “Please…”

            His hand slid up my belly, making its way underneath the fabric of the sweater and the top until it reached one of my breasts. Holding onto it, he used his other hand to position his cock in my pussy. Then he pushed in. I grasped his tattooed forearms. He started thrusting, his face tense, his expression one of contained self-control. My nipple ached between his fingers, and my heels dig onto his backside as I urged him closer, deeper into me. 

            “Noah, I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold it for long,” I manage to mumble between cries. 

            “Well, I’m not ready to let you come yet.” 

Not a moment had passed that he slid his arms underneath my body and picked me up again, securing me against his frame with his arms and hands. He walked us to the center of the living room, by the Christmas tree. He sat me on the floor and told me to sit up the two seconds it took him to remove the remaining pieces of clothing I had on. I laid back down. The cracking from the fireplace and the scent of the two mugs of hot chocolate still lingering in the air, adding an extra layer of warm to our sweaty bodies.  

Confusion suddenly etched my features as I saw him taking my hot chocolate from the spot on the floor where I had left it. He took a sip, taking his time indulging in it. 

            “Lucky you,” he started saying, “the chocolate is still warm.” 

            He set it down next to my body, dipped his fingers in the chocolate and picked a marshmallow. A second after, he was playing with it around my nipple, leaving a trail of hot liquid chocolate around the peak of my breast. My breath was caught on my throat as I watched the lust in his eyes.

            “I’m gonna eat you all up,” he promised before he put the marshmallow in his mouth and descended into my breasts. 

He covered me in drops of warm liquid, watching my body shiver every time the chocolate touched my skin and smirking at the desperation showing and growing on my face. He repeated the same pattern for a few times, tracing drawings on my chest and stomach, chewing at the marshmallows and even putting one of them on my mouth, his tongue sliding too far down a couple of times and lapping at me once, twice. The last time he dipped his fingers in the mug, he led them to my mouth and asked me to lick them off, which earned me a sweet “good girl” from him. 

He gave up the rest of the hot chocolate and focused on the task of sinking himself on me again, but he stopped for just a second, eyeing the point where our bodies where about to merge, then guiding his gaze to me. 

            “Do we have any condoms here?” He asked, looking around as if remembering where we had placed the last box we bought. 

            “No…” I answered. A thought raced my mind. It had been there before, but I had never really said it aloud. Until now. I swallowed and said in a low voice, “It’s okay.” 

            “It’s okay?” He repeated, eyebrows furrowed. 

            I started smiling and he knew me too well to discern what my expression meant. 

            “Do you mean I can…? I can do it inside?” His pupils expanded.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

            I nodded impatiently. 

            “This means… Pff,” he sat back on his heels, looking down as if suddenly lost in thought. He raked a hand through his hair. “Are you thinking about…?”

            “Yeah…” I whispered. I sat up to run two fingers down the side of his face. I didn’t have to say it out loud to know that the same images were crossing his mind. The bottom of the tree filled with Christmas gifts and a few kids running around, chasing each other, filling the house with their sweet and loud laughs, and Noah and me looking at them from the sofa, where we were cuddled up in each other’s arms, drinking hot chocolate. 

“Well, now I can’t definitely shake off the idea of having a little you driving me crazy around this house,” he suddenly stated. 

“So…?”

“So,” his body covered mine, his eyes diving into mine. “I’ll ask one more time. Are you sure? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes.”

“This is— You are gonna be the death of me. Wait a second.” 

He ruffled through the stuff set on the floor, toppling one of the boxes containing the glittery balls. They scattered around in all direction, rolling beneath the tree and weaving through our legs. He moved them aside until he found the satin ribbon. 

I knew it. 

            He requested for my hands, and I offered them to him, the inner side of my wrists gently meeting. With practiced precision, it took him less than a minute to tie them up in a very elaborate knot that showed off his skills in the art of Shibari. He had been interested in it for a long time, having read plenty of books. However, it wasn’t until one evening, filled with a hint of shyness, that he approached me and asked if he could try it on me. Surprisingly for the two of us, we both enjoyed it, leading to an ongoing exploration where he continued to refine his arts on my body.  

Once tied, he let them rest over my belly for a second and admired me, flush filling up my cheeks. 

            “My perfect Christmas gift,” he said. 

            “I’m naked,” I replied, a bit self-conscious.

            “That’s how I like my presents: unwrapped but tied. Now be good, yeah? Or else, Santa will not bring you any presents.” 

“I have mine exactly where I want it…” I smirked and Noah mirrored my expression as he lowered his head to kiss me. It was soft, gentle, passionate. His lips molding to mine in a way that would drive me insane anytime. I would remember his taste and his scent for ages and ages.  

With my arms positioned a top of my head, his mouth claimed mine again and his body filled mine, every inch of skin touching, gliding against each other as we started moving.

We fucked relentlessly, my screams increasing with every thrust, filling up our house. The sweat covering Noah’s body intensifying as waves of heat enveloped us not only from the fire burning mere meters away from us, but from the one growing and growing inside of our bodies. 

When the moment came, I wanted to witness his expression with my own eyes. I was a prisoner underneath his body, but he was mine to admire and adore.

“Noah, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

But it was too much. His gaze bore into mine, but his features were tensing and a muscle in his jaw ticked until he couldn’t hold it any longer and he sank his head in my neck with a primal growl.

            It was the first time he came inside of me, and I never heard him groaning the way he did that afternoon as he emptied himself inside of me. I was overcome by a new and strange sensation. A part of him was now inside of me and would stay with me forever. It was different than saying he occupied a place in my heart. This was totally, undoubtedly different. This was physical. Primal. And I loved it. I wanted to stay in that moment, in that warmth that spread inside of me, his pulse beating against my walls. 

            I moved my tied arms and put them over his head, around his neck, until my fingers could graze the sweaty hair at the back of his neck. He struggled to regain his breathing. The weight of his entire body laid on mine. 

            “You look so pretty when you’re coming,” I said softly.

            Noah’s shy laugh against my neck, below my ear, made me giggle underneath him.

            “You’re spoiling me, you know?” He said, nibbling at my jaw. Even though his face remained hidden, I could see in my mind the flush that covered his cheeks every time I complimented him. 

            “I want to make you happy.”

            “You’re my happiness,” he replied. A kiss laid on the pulse of my neck.

            “That’s sweet.” 

            He touched my cheek, and finally lifted his head from the crook of my neck. Tattooed knuckles tenderly grazing against my skin. 

            “I’m not lying.”

            “I know.”

            I kissed him. He kept me in his embrace for a while, taking a moment to check my face, move the hair out of it, and make sure I was okay.

He straightened up on his knees and pulled out softly, making us both feel the last trace of our union. He looked attentively at the point in which our bodies stopped being connected, and I heard him say “it’s all inside, fuck,” and a smile tugging at a corner of his lips before he got up. He told me to wait as he went to the bathroom to grab some wipes and clean us up a bit. 

I heard him curse from the bathroom downstairs a few seconds later. 

            “Is something wrong?” I asked from the floor.

            “My dick's got glitter in it!” 

            “I told you about the glittery balls!” 

            “You’re telling me!”

I cracked up at his reply. Then I heard him muttering: “How the fuck did it get here?” 

I could picture him holding his dick with one hand, observing his length and his glittery balls and trying to remove the small particles with a tissue paper. 

            When he came back, he was holding a packet of wipes in one hand, his dick hanging lose between his legs, softening, but he still looked as much a man as he looked when he was pounding inside of me. 

I loved him with all my soul, and I would never stop feeling lucky for getting to call him mine.

            “What a cute little Christmas thing you are, aren’t you?” He said when he noticed that my thighs and belly were also shining with particles of glitter that had glued to my skin. 

I was laying down by the Christmas tree, covered in glitter, all flushed and used. 

            “I’m still tied.”

            I hadn’t bothered to move because I felt… euphoric. Nothing had changed. Yet, everything could have. I still felt Noah’s liquid drip inside of me and it was… strange yet welcome. And the thought that I could be pregnant in the next minutes, if not already, had me floating in a dream. 

            “And if I had my way, you would stay like that for hours while I eat you out and make you come over and over again,” he said, looking down at me from his full height. 

            Noah knelt beside me and untied me. His warm hands massaged my wrists briefly before he extracted a couple of wipes from a thick plastic envelope. As the damp cool cotton touched my skin, I startled. 

            “Cold?” he asked.

            “Yeah.”

            “Sorry,” he apologized, and maneuvered my body so that I was closer to the fireplace. The comforting warmth enveloped me, and I just stared at the flickering flames for a while, taking in the events of the evening, a sense of satisfaction and tranquility settling over me.

            Suddenly, I felt Noah’s hand on my tummy. When I turned my head, he was lying face down on the carpet next to me, his head propped on one hand while his other was caressing the skin of my belly. 

            “I’ve never felt anything quite like it before,” he confessed in a hushed tone, gaze fixed on my body. We had always used condoms, and if not, he had always pushed out before he orgasmed. “That was incredible. Thanks.” 

            “Maybe this will be our Christmas gift,” I replied, placing my hand on top of his. 

            Noah studied our joined hands, his smile widening. There was a glint in his eyes that filled my heart with happiness. 

            Leaning down, he kissed me, whispering a slow and tender “I love you” against my lips. My response echoed his three words. 

I brushed some strands of wild hair away from his face. 

            He peppered some kisses down my shoulder. 

            “Want to take a shower?”

            “I think we actually need it,” I acknowledged. “Might help us remove that glitter.” 

I looked down at him. Indeed, his dick had glitter in it. I just needed to tie a bow with that red ribbon and tadah! My Christmas gift!

            “Don’t you even think about sharing this with the guys. They would never let me see the end of it.” 

            The topic clouded my other thoughts, and I found myself laughing as Noah helped me up. I couldn’t restrain myself as he pushed us towards the bathroom in the main suite upstairs, and by the time our naked feet hit the cold tiles in the shower, we were both cracking up. 

[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 28th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 11, “L’enveloppe magique” (“The Magic Envelope”).

This section was first printed on Thursday, 4 November, 1909.

Gaston Leroux cut “The Magic Envelope” from his novel when he prepared the First Edition for publication.

In January of 2014, I published my translation of this chapter. Mine was the first English translation of this chapter to be published.

You can read my translation of “The Magic Envelope” on my blog here.

The text of this section starts at “All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all,” and goes to “'Not on your life!’ cried Gabriel.”

TRANSLATION:

All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all. It was easy to see that Moncharmin was suspicious of Richard, or at least did not trust him. Richard was infuriated.

Moncharmin explained himself.

“My dear fellow, who was it that spoke inside the box, if it wasn’t you?”

Richard raised his fist in rage but stopped mid-gesture. At the moment when he was going to slam his fist down on the desktop, he heard three sharp little knocks coming from inside the desk; his hand remained suspended in the air. The two Managers looked at each other.

“Did you hear that?” asked Richard in an uncertain voice.

“Yes!” said Moncharmin, who had become slightly pale…

They heard it again… They thought about the three sharp little knocks of which Mother Giry had told them.

Indeed, this is what they had clearly heard… Distinctly heard … from inside the desk … for there was no one under the desk…

But there was something on top!… A large envelope on which someone had inscribed an address in red ink. And it seemed to them that the three sharp little knocks had been rapped out for the express purpose of drawing their attention to that envelope.

Richard, who, however much he claimed to the contrary, was not completely devoid of superstition, cautiously reached out a hand towards the envelope, as if he feared that his touch might suddenly set it on fire.

Finally, he picked it up without further incident. It felt light in his hands, which were quick to open it after he and Moncharmin — who was leaning over his shoulder — read the address:

“For MM. the Managers of the Opera.”

“My dear friends,” said the letter, “it was I who spoke inside the box. I was there. If you did not see me, it is because I am slightly mistrustful of the police, who are always quick to make mistakes; although I had made all the necessary arrangements, as you can now deduce, so that if you had entertained the notion of informing them, they would have arrested both of you first, on your own instructions: that, you will admit, would have been quite entertaining… Let this prospect, my dear friends, be a lesson that you always bear in mind in the unlikely case that you should consider involving an outside force in our business.

“Here is how you shall handle the 20,000 francs.

“You shall slip twenty notes of one thousand francs each into an envelope that you shall find here enclosed. You shall seal this envelope and deliver it to Mme Giry one half hour before the next performance; she will do what is necessary. Cordially yours. P. of the O.”

Inside the envelope they had just opened, they indeed found another envelope that was exactly the same, folded in half, which bore the inscription in red ink: “For Monsieur P. of the O. Private.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The next evening, one half hour before the curtain rose, an inspector came to see Mme Giry, who was already at her box attendant’s post, and requested that she report immediately to the office of M. Firmin Richard.

The good woman did not seem at all surprised by this message and momentarily left her duties, which consisted of awaiting the arrival of the first operagoers. She quickly went down to the season subscribers’ entrance, crossed the stage, and climbed the staircase. There she encountered her daughter, Meg, on a landing, who was in the midst of playing a prank on a fireman. Mme Giry gave her a slap on each cheek, and then went to knock on the Manager’s door.

“Enter!”

She did not seem to notice that the Managers were staring at her with an uncustomary urgency. She took an envelope, rather heavily laden, that they held out to her. She read the address, and since she was carrying the basket from which she rarely parted, she placed the envelope inside.

“No doubt you know what this means?” asked Moncharmin.

“Of course, Monsieur Manager! It’s not magic! It’s a letter for the Phantom.”

“And you are going to deliver it to him yourself?”

“So it seems. What would you have me do with it?”

“You are going to deliver it to him by hand?”

“Monsieur, I’ve never seen the Phantom’s hands, and I couldn’t tell you whether he has any…”

“But how do you do it?”

“I put it by his seat; it’s as simple as that!… And apparently, he comes to get the envelope. That has to be the way it happens…”

“Has it been long that you have served as his letter-box?”

“The first time that it happened was during the time of Debienne and Poligny, a few days before their departure… M. Poligny himself handed me a letter, but much thinner than this … and I did more or less what I am going to do with this one… Goodbye, Monsieur! With all due respect, I’m on my way… The patrons ought to be arriving, and everyone must earn a living, don’t you agree?”

Richard and Moncharmin did not stop her from leaving. They had not taken their eyes off of Mother Giry or her basket. No sooner had she closed the door than she was followed by Mercier, the Administrator. The box attendant’s every movement was carefully monitored. Her comportment was quite natural and she did not so much as touch her basket until she arrived at Box 5. There she calmly opened her basket and withdrew the precious letter. She left the basket on a stool and entered the box with the letter, which she placed on the shelf by the armrest.

Meanwhile, Mercier in turn took the liberty of opening the basket and found that it contained nothing more than a handkerchief of the finest lace monogrammed with the interwoven letters, “P.O.,”[4] a bunch of keys, a box of matches, twelve sous, and an old edition of the Petit Journal, folded to the section of the serialized novel: The Vampire’s Daughter.[5]

As for Moncharmin and Richard, they both armed themselves with opera glasses and stationed themselves in separate boxes in the upper tier so that they could not be seen, although the letter did not for an instant leave their dual patrolling gaze. In this way, they spent the duration of the performance, both the acts and the entr’actes.

They did not see anything occur inside the box, and yet still they watched the envelope on the little shelf by the armrest. They made arrangements so that after the performance was over, they would convene together with Mercier in Box 5, without interrupting their surveillance on the envelope for even a moment.

Then the two Managers, standing before Mercier, who understood nothing of the events that were transpiring, for he had followed his instructions without being briefed on the details of the affair, opened the envelope with a smile. They believed that the Phantom, who was surely possessed of a practical mind, must have sensed himself being watched and had not dared to touch the envelope. Indeed, they found the 20,000 francs still inside. And so, with a slightly smug air, they returned to their management.

But as they arrived in Richard’s office, they discovered that, sitting there on the desk, in the same location as before, was an identical envelope, which contained a “brief note” thusly worded:

“Candles and chandeliers![6] Brevity is the soul of wit; the Bank of Saint Farce[7] is not legal tender in my Empire. In the future, try to be a bit more serious, or I shall wax wroth once again. Candles and chandeliers!

“Your servant,

“P. of the O.”

It was no longer a matter of “friendly regards.” Needless to say, the Phantom was furious. But how had he known that in place of real banknotes, the Managers had slipped fake notes into the envelope, since it had remained unopened and had not been touched? And as for this latest threat — candles and chandeliers! — how had it arrived in Richard’s office, since after the last letter, Richard, recalling a bit late the recommendation given to them by the departing Managers, had installed safety locks on the doors of his office to which he alone had the keys?

I regret that I must here use an expression which is in no way recommended by the dictionary of the Academy, but no other word would be able to convey with detail and yet with restraint the state of mind of one of the Managers: Firmin Richard was fuming! No exclamations, no curses, no angry gestures. But in his breathless silence, he seemed to radiate fury.

And what infuriated him more than anything, even more perhaps than the absurd business of P. of the O., was Moncharmin’s eye, that eye which regarded him, Richard, with clear malicious irony.

For that ironic look could only come from two things: either Moncharmin imagined that P. of the O. was “making sport” of Richard in particular, or Moncharmin had begun once again to suspect his colleague! And this latter thought crowned Richard’s misery. Oh, to be the pawn, and yet to be thought the mastermind!

Suddenly, he cried: “Mercier! Go get me Gabriel!”

Gabriel, the chorus master, was Richard’s friend. He had Richard’s confidence, and frequently, when Richard was in trouble, he found excellent council in Gabriel. When Mercier had returned with Gabriel, Richard asked them both to sit down. Then, having ensured that no one could hear what would be spoken between the four men, having ordered Rémy, his secretary, who was keeping watch in the adjacent room, to prevent anyone from entering the office, he recounted from the beginning the details of that strange affair. Gabriel and Mercier listened in perfect silence.

When Richard had finished, Gabriel stood up and said: “You must put the 20,000 francs in the envelope, but the real 20,000.”

“That’s also my opinion,” agreed Mercier, and he added: “And we must inform the Commissary of Police!”

“Not on your life!” cried Gabriel.

NOTES:

[4] The letters monogrammed on this handkerchief are “F.O.” in the French, and it is the translator’s theory that this is short for Fantôme [de l’] Opéra. These initials have therefore been translated as “P.O.” for Phantom [of the] Opera. It is possible that the rest of the items in Mme Giry’s basket were meant to be Erik’s possessions, as well. For instance, the matches might be the implements that Erik used to write his various notes, since Leroux described that Erik’s handwriting looked like it was formed using the tips of matchsticks, presumably dipped into his signature red ink. It is also tempting to think of Erik reading a story about vampires, since there are certain aspects of his character, such as sleeping in a coffin bed, that appear to be drawn from vampire literature. It is certainly amusing that Leroux inserted this slightly self-referential element of a character reading a feuilleton within his own feuilleton. However, it remains unclear why these items were in Mme Giry’s basket. Like so many other details in Leroux’s novel, we have no definitive answers.

[5] A thorough search of Le Petit Journal, a Parisian daily newspaper similar to Le Gaulois, from 1863 to 1910 can find no feuilleton by the name of La Fille du Vampire. It is likely that this serialized novel was Leroux’s invention.

[6] This exclamatory phrase in French is “lustre et balustre,” which literally means “chandelier and baluster” (the baluster in this instance is the ornate stem of the chandelier into which the candle-bearing arms are inserted). This particular use of these words may be an expression of Leroux’s own devising, as it does not appear in contemporary books of French wordplay. That said, the words “lustre” and “balustre” frequently appear together in French grammar books as rhyming pairs, so there is likely a subtextual relationship between them. Instead of attempting an idiomatic translation, the translator has chosen a more literal translation, albeit one that captures some of the phrase’s rhyming quality, in order to retain the chandelier reference, since this gives the phrase its menace.

[7] The Bank of Saint Farce was pretend currency, similar to play money.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 4 November, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[greenplumbboblover]

Hey everyone!

I just wanted to be transparent, and I've converted everything payment wise (donations, stickers, etc) under "Mystical Bento Box", which is a self-employed registered business with the sole owner: me!

To be honest, I've been trying to put it off since I dreaded the idea of giving people the wrong idea that I want to monetise simming.

That's not it at all.

Because the Dutch tax system is so complicated when you get additional earnings outside of work, you quickly find yourself having to create a self-employed business without being considered a fraud or getting fined for going over the allowed additional threshold.

(Or if it's each month, a certain amount, then that can also make the government start questioning things).

So when people did donate huge amounts of money, it did spike a bit of anxiety because of that :p

Now that's not to say I earn that much as of right now, but if Simblr.cc will have ads, that also something I had to consider.

Additionally to that, I also want to make Unity/Unreal assets and sell those! Being a 3D artist has always been a dream of mine, and I really would like to try to pursue that. :)

Which... means that I could pretty quickly get me over that threshold.

So, the money still goes to my personal bank account! And will still be used for Simblr.cc's costs, Blender plugin costs, programming related costs (as in educational videos etc.)

I really hope that this does not rub people the wrong way at all! But at the same time, I felt that it was good to explain my reasoning without people speculating about it, since it's really just for tax and government-y reasons.

Thank you for reading! :)

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

🥀Eternally Yours and Mine - Chapter Two🥀

Pairing: Corpse Husband Zachary au x Reader/MC

Word count: 2k again lets goooo

heheheh I don't know what else to put here but enjoy reading!

You were awakened by the sound of knocking at the front door at….5am?! Who the hell was up right now? You groaned, rolling over and trying to pull the pillow over your ears in hopes that the person would go away or maybe it was a branch hitting against the door. It didn’t though. You cursed under your breath as you pulled yourself out of bed groggily and slowly walked down the hall. The knocking persisted and you opened the door quickly, ready to tell off whoever decided to come around at this time. “What do you-!”

You quickly stopped talking when you recognized the person at the door and you remembered what you and Simon had talked about while you guys had brought in the boxes.

“So…..What exactly will the landlord look like? I never saw a picture of them on the website or anything and I wouldn't want to try and beat them up if they scared the shit out of me like you did.” You asked, picking up one of the last boxes while Simon did the same. “O-Oh….uhm…p-purple hair, and they’re q-quite pale.”

He hadn’t given you much information probably due to him being nervous but it was enough for you to double take right now and forced a smile on your face to seem perfectly sane and like you weren’t ready to cuss somebody out. The figure standing at the door was pretty tall and pale, light purple hair tied into a braid and it went down to their hip, he wore a dark purple shirt along with the whole fit. Gold glasses adorned his face which she pushed up slightly with a pale hand before speaking.

“You’re [Y/N], correct?” They asked with a calm smile. You nodded your head quickly, hoping to make a good impression in case they happen to be like your last landlord that would raise rent over the tiniest things.

“Oh, uhm, yeah, that’s me.” You mentally yelled at yourself for not sounding confident while you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. The person (?) smiled and put their hand out for a handshake, you took it and looked down and was a bit surprised. Simon said that they were a bit pale but you weren’t expecting this.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mr. Ritza.” They said calmly before speaking again, his face looking a bit worried. “Real quick though, is anything broken or anything? The lights are all working, correct?” They asked as her calm face started to morph into a somewhat nervous one as he looked past your shoulder and into the house.

“Uhm….Yes? I’ve only been here for a couple hours now so I haven’t really had the chance to look all around the house.” You responded hesitantly, confused about why they were so concerned about the….lights? But hey, at least he’s giving a damn about the house unlike your last landlord.

Mr. Ritza nodded and her smile slowly came back. “Well that’s good, But if anything ever does come up please contact me immediately and I’ll get it fixed right up.” He said softly as he stopped looking behind you and instead at you now. “Sorry for waking you up by the way, this is about the only time I can come out right now.” They apologized before starting to take a step into the doorway. “Simon had told me you wanted a tour of the house? It is quite big after all.”

It was true that you had been wanting a tour of the house but it was 5am and nobody wanted to do all that at this time of the morning. Not wanting to be mean, you smiled at them and shook your head. “Not right now preferably, I’m still really tired but I’m sure I can do it by myself in the morning.” You responded, although the cold air outside was slowly waking you up.

He nodded his head before reaching into their back pocket and handing you a piece of folded paper. “I understand, although here’s a layout of the house just in case.” You nodded your head and took the paper from their pale hand and unfolded it before taking a quick glance at it. You chuckled a bit as you folded it back up. “Thanks, now hopefully I won’t get lost here.” You joked and they gave you a small chuckle in return before he started speaking again. “You’re welcome, I’ll leave you so you can go get some sleep now. My phone number is on the back of the paper if you need anything from me.”

You smiled at them and waved them goodbye. “Alright, thanks I will.” You replied and turned to set the paper down on the small table in the hallway next to the door. You were lost in thought for a moment before your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of….a bat? Your turned around quickly towards the door, Mr. Ritza was gone and you could faintly make out a chubby purple bat flying away. You stared for a few moments, trying to make out what happened before shrugging it off. It was probably just the fact you just woke up getting to you. You set the paper down and then went to bed for the night.

When you finally did wake up for the day it was about 11pm, the sun was already shining through the curtains, giving the room a welcoming glow. After going ahead and freshening up for the day ahead in the bathroom and a new pair of clothes just in case somebody popped by again, you went into the vestibule and got the paper off of the table that Mr. Ritza had given you before you started going through the house, starting with the first floor.

There were at least 3 floors from what you could tell on the outside and looking down at the floor plan you could see that there was also a basement and an attic that you would have to check as well….Maybe you should have taken up that offer last night but oh well. You made your way into the first floor kitchen, notepad in hand to take some notes on things you would find. Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was very clean and shiny like someone who would wake up every morning to wipe down the cabinets and counters to make sure the place stayed in tip top condition.

There was a large cabinet right across from you against the wall filled with porcelain plates with what you could see through the glass on it. Walking up to it you pulled on the handles of the double doors only to find it a bit stuck which made sense since those plates had not been used for probably over 50 years. You huffed before pulling on them once more, nothing. Pulling once more there was a soft crackling sound coming from the two doors as they finally separated. You took out one of the plates from the cabinet and examined it.

You ran a finger across the plate and was pleasantly surprised to see that no dust or dirt came up on your finger when you checked so you wouldn’t have to go through washing all the dishes. They were slick almost like glass and were white with a blue flowery print all around the side of them in a circle and it was truly beautiful. You remembered how one of your few friends back home always had a thing for vintage stuff like you and you guys would have long rants back in high school history classes whenever you talked about victorian times. She would surely love to see this.

You went to go grab your phone in your back pocket to take a picture, your grip only slightly loosening up on the plate as you did so. It was dead silent in the house except for the sounds of you walking around and doing stuff. That was suddenly interrupted by a loud sound coming from somewhere else in the house, almost like the sound of music. You jumped and in the process the plate fell out of your hands and to the floor into smithereens causing you to yelp and jump back again to avoid and spare glass pieces cutting into your foot since all you had on was socks.

You had to take a moment and take a deep breath before he reached down and picked your phone up off of the ground, you turned on the screen and sighed in relief when you saw that the screen had cracked but you had a bigger problem to worry about. You could still hear the sound of music coming from somewhere in the house and you couldn’t tell where. Did Simon sneak in and was trying to scare you? Maybe he wasn’t as sweet as you thought he was….

“Tch, asshole…” You grumbled as you started to walk around the house to figure out where it was coming from exactly, going to the next floor upstairs you noticed the music got a bit louder. It almost sounded like it was above you? You reached into your back pocket as you looked up at the ceiling and took out the floor plan Mr. Ritza had given you before looking down at it.

You looked around for the entrance to some type of attic of something but it seemed that it had been erased from the floor plan. The music was still playing and you knew it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you by the way you could pick out pieces of words in the song.

“Daisy…….give me…………..half crazy.”

It sounded crackley in some way, it was clearly one of those old songs by the way. Your face contorted into a confused look…..How could Simon have made it in here if you didn't even know there was an attic before? You felt a bit of fear come up inside the pit of your stomach but you pushed it down and told yourself that everything must have an explanation. You searched around the house for a little while, your footsteps being slow and wary now that you were unsure of what it was. It took a few minutes but as you walked towards the end of the hallway on the right side of the third floor you could hear the music clearly albeit it was muffled.

You looked up at the ceiling for any type of attic door that pulls down and noticed the string hanging from the ceiling. You pulled it down, ignoring the way your hand trembled when you did so. It fell down, the ladder with it, nearly smacking you right in the head if you hadn’t moved away just in time. A wave of dust came down with it as well and you covered your nose with your shirt and coughed into it.

“Daisy…Daisy, give me your answer do.”

The music was now clear as day, you were able to hear the lyrics and make the song out clear as day now. The room seemed to have a red glow to it. Swallowing down your fears you shakily climbed up the ladder and into the attic. You found that the red glow that filled the room was from a glass stained window of a rose and when the sun shined down on it, it filled the room with the light through the rose. It would have been comforting and gorgeous if it hadn’t been for the situation at hand.

“I’m half crazy…all for the love of you…”

Once you were finally inside of the attic you immediately started to search around for the source of the music and it didn’t take you but about 15 seconds of scanning the attic till you found a gramophone sitting on a small desk against the far wall playing the music.

“It won’t be a stylish marriage….I can’t afford a carriage…”

You shook your hands a bit to try and get rid of the feeling of paranoia and brushed it off by the creepy ass song making you afraid and walked over to the desk to go ahead and put all this shit to an end and probably go interrogate Simon to see if he had decided to mess with you like you originally thought.

“But you’ll look sweet, upon the seat of a bicycle built for two…”

The song came to an end before beginning to start over again. The begging cords started to play again and you huffed and reached for the stylus to take it off and stop the music when suddenly the record player scratched and started glitching almost and jumping all over the place, almost piecing parts of the song together.

Ŷ̷̳̰͕̬̼̳͖̖̞̫̭͉̭̠̀̾̅̚ó̶̧̦̫̺ͅû̷͇̀͋͒͆́̒͒̀̀̈̌̚͜͝ ̸͖͇̱̙̫̞͎͎̻̟̣̇͋͗̆̒̉̽͋̈́̅̿̈͠͝͝ͅľ̸̢̡̩̹͎̫̹͙͂͐̌̑̂̑̌̍͐͊͛̕͘͝ǫ̸̡͕͈̤̯͙̭̌̅̊̈̄̑̌̈́̀͘̕͘͠o̷̧͖͚̜̟͉̤͍͕̯̰̪̓̽͑̾̿̾̔̾̑̃̚̚͜k̶̛̞̯̐͊̐͌̓͋̀̍̈́̕̚͝ ̸̻̱̲͎͉̦̙̹̓̽̑͆̑̅͆̀͊s̸̨̧̺̩̭͇̯̻̻̬̙͔͔͛̓̀̒͒́͒͌̊̍͗̕ͅo̴͕̫͚͕͕͈̯͈̠͓̭͑̐̐̽͑̿͊͊͝͝ͅ ̴̱͔̟̤͙͖̦̪̱͎̘͔̫̙̪̋̽̍͗̔͛̊̈̈́̈́̽̃̃b̴̨̛̍̑̓̂̃̚͝e̸̡̢̬̰͍̲͎̦̦̭̥̥̱͑̂͗̔̓́͛͊͑́͐̎͠ą̷̧̗̞̟͓͎̲̳̩̳̤̣͛̓̍͌̍̚͝ū̶͙̼̣̟̺̖̺̎̍͜ţ̵̘̱̖̩͇̹̥̾͂̐͊ͅͅǐ̶̡̧̢̗̯̳͕̬͎̰̿̉͒́͌̇̀̚͜ḟ̴̛̩́͂̉̄̎͑͊̎̏͝ų̷̹̟̱̳͈̖̠͚͓̯̈́l̷̰̱̈́̊͌̃̑̓͑ ̵̰͈̯̠̩̼͇̻͙̻͙̠͓̺̈́̋̈́̎̓́͂̈́̃̒ẃ̸̢̧͚̞͖̜̤̞̣͙̣͖̲̓̃͂̎́́̓̀͌̃͊͆͘͝ḩ̷̙̿ͅe̵̛̪̊́͌͆͒͑͌͂͑ñ̷̛̤͓̬̜̬͈̻̫͕̓̈́̇̇͛͘͝͝ ̷̧̢̞̜͍̘̣͍̈͜ͅẙ̸̠̲͍̦̥͈̇̈́̍̎̀͆̕͘͝ǫ̶͇̪͎̙̩̠̐̊̉͋̒͐ṷ̶̧͓̞͚̺̣̥̬̰̝͍̋̉̃̂͝ͅ ̴̡̱͙̠̳̙̩̱̗̰̰̮̃̏̃͊s̵̨̢̩̪̗͍͉̻̤͗͘͝ľ̸̡͚͔̜̖̖͈̻̦ë̷̡̙̘̜̦̯̜̼̜̖͎́̈́́̀͛̾͘͜͝e̴̢̨̡̛͉͖̺̣̖̺̯̪̠͐̀̌̔̓́̇͊̅p̴̨̟̮̘͇̦̪͙͖͓̥̻̆̋̄̓.̸̨̡̛͍̞̻̙̤͚͚̹͕̳̬͇̏̉̾̋͊̂͘͘͘͝

Your heartbeat raced and you didn’t waste another second and pulled the needle off the record quickly and stopped the music. ….The only sound in the attic now was the sound of your heavy breathing as you slightly bent over and took a moment to collect yourself.

You mentally slapped yourself for letting such a little thing scare you so badly, what were you? Nine? You sighed and stood back up, and stared at the gramophone for a moment and remembered Mr. Ritza’s words about calling them if anything broke or acted up and went to grab your phone out of your pocket only to feel nothing there.

“Oh fucking come on-” As if things couldn’t get worse today. You started to walk back over to the ladder to see if your phone was laying in the hallway somewhere when you were suddenly blinded momentarily by a bright light right in your eyes. You instinctively covered your face before looking over at the source and saw something metal on the floor, the sun shining down on it through the windows and reflecting right onto your face.

Walking closer to whatever it was and bending down you saw that it was a ring. It was a beautiful golden one with diamonds adorned on the top giving it a nice sparkle to it. You carefully picked it up and turned it around in between your fingers and examined it. Running a finger around the band on the outside to feel the details and then doing the same on the inside of the ring, you were surprised to feel engravings on the inside of the band. It was somewhat dark since you had found it under the table so you stood up, holding the ring up to the light so you could see it better and you started to read it out loud.

“With you always….Eter-” You started to read it outloud until there was the sound of footsteps behind you.

“-Nally yours and mine…” A charming male voice spoke with a British accent right behind you as he finished his sentence.

—-------------------------------------------

HAHAHAHA GET PUT ON A CLIFFHANGER-

Zachary belongs to @clrdgaze

If you made it this far and finished it thank you! I really enjoy writing this and already working on chapter three :>

[taybatwo2]

G3 Hissfits Review Part 1

Guess what came in today??? My Hissfits three pack!

The box is large, 22”x12” and was 75 bucks…which is a lot (25 for each doll) and Entertainment Earth wanted another 20 for shipping (so I might have preordered a cute little 3.75” Clone Trooper Rex figure to get free shipping).

These dolls had their stock photos dropped a bit over a year ago and I guess were just sitting in a warehouse while Mattel figured out what to do with them????? I dunno why they took so long to come out, but I’m glad they were not all canceled and disposed of.

It has some little Skullettes detailed around the outside of the box.

Here is the corner illustration done by Darko.

The back of the box. That’s a huge illustration and looks really cool. It has some of their accessories hidden about and Amped Up Frankie’s accessories in the far left-hand book shelf. Perhaps they’re all playing for the Monster Ball?

Here is the UPC for anyone who needs it. These are supposed to be available on misc. sellers/shops: like Entertainment Earth and Big Lots and NOT Amazon, Walmart, Target or even Mattel Creations. Which seems like an odd choice (I wonder what their reasoning was behind it?).

Here is a close up of their blurb on the back of the box. I do find it funny that Toralei was known to be REALLY bad at singing in G1 and G3 just RAN the other way with that.

Here are the ghoul’s with the plastic removed. There was A TON of rubber bands holding them all in. They look good in the package, but there is so much plastic waste.

more under the cut

Close-up of G3 Meowlody’s face while still strapped down. Meowlody has white hair (I remember who is who by: turning her name’s first letter “m” upside down and it looks like a “w” for “white hair”).

Mine has her eyes slightly printed up too high, some white paint dropped across her right eye, and her left cheek stripes have some paint missing (you can’t tell from his photo).

She has the biggest grin out of the werecat twins and Toralei. Her heterochromia is opposite of her twin and she has purple leopard print eyeshadow. Her hair feels like saran.

My Toralei looks pretty good, but has a small lip smudge on her upper lip. I love her eyeshadow!!! Even her bright pink lips have grown on me. Her leopard rosettes are a mix of purple (Meowlody) and pink (Purrsephone).

She has almost-neon orange hair (with black, baby pink, and purple streaks). I’m pretty sure it is all saran.

And my FAVORITE, Purrsephone (turn her name’s first letter “p” upside down and it looks like a “b” for “black hair” and that’s how I remember this is Purrsephone). I like her sculpted eyelids, her full upper lips, her hair color blend *mwah!* Mine does have a spot of red paint on the bottom of her cat nose. She has pink leopard spots on the opposite side of her face as her sister.

I’m also certain she has saran hair.

They come with a ton of little accessories “to help them get ready for the show.” Even merch to sell after the show too!!

After spending about 30 minutes freeing everything from their prison and running a metal comb through their hair (they will need to be washed with water, Dawn dish soap, and some conditioner…maybe (carefully) straight iron their hair later).

I forgot to take a full body photo of Toralei before I started removing pieces. Whoops!

Here is her crown piece. It wraps around both ears and should still hold its place fairly well even after I removed the plastic stays and rubberband (it was really wrapped around it) holding it in.

Here she is without her golden crown. I might like it better off.

Her eye make-up is her two cousins’ mixed together. Oh, by the way G3 Purrsephone and Meowlody are G3 Toralei’s cousins, not just her beasties.

The leopard print reminds me of SDCC DC Super Hero Girl’s Cheetah.

Her tail tambourine (I love how clever they were in its paw-like design) also stays on her tail pretty well.

Here are her plastic dress pieces. They have some nice details to them (lots of studs, chains, and the Hissfits cat head logo) and as always, could look even more elevated with some paint. Be warned that the gold chest piece instantly wants to keep detaching itself from the skirt and shoulder pieces after you remove the rubber bands.

I LOVE her gloves (look at the little printed seams and how they make it look like there are seperate holes for her fingers). My Core G3 Toralei will be stealing them. Mine even come off by sliding over the hands (you do not necessarily need to remove the whole hand to get them off).

Here are her MASSIVE boots. They are slit all the way down the back and have some colored in details. I’m not sure if I like purple AND pink AND red being Toralei’s new colors, but these shoes look great.

Here are the bottoms (chains on the ball of the feet and a cat scratching post making the heel).

A better look at her saran hair blend. It’s really growing on me. I was just going to clean her up, steal her stock and resell the base doll. But I am heavily rethinking it.

Here she is in her outfit sans all the plastic bits. It is all attached. The main shirt/shorts have a sparkly foil look to them and her skirt has a lovely gold to magenta foil print.

And the back. Now let’s jump ahead to look at some differences between the werecat’s bodies.

Toralei has the exact same body mold as G3 Clawdeen, and the werecat twins have the same body as G3 Cleo (sans the bandages).

They didn’t give the werecat twins sharp toe claws like Toralei and Clawdeen. :( Booo!

Their ears look a bit different too (Toralei has notches in the bottom of her ears and Purrsephone/Meowlody don’t).

And for funsies. Here are all the G3 werecats’ body types for comparison (I’m still in the middle of micro-braiding my Catty’s hair, so ignore her bad hair day).

In part 2 I’ll delve more into the werecat twins.