#Coat Hanger Unit

[kirby-the-gorb]

#kirby #cursed image #daily kirby #my art #digital #hal laboratory #nintendo #so. #did not have to hobble to the leasing office - they called me first thing in the morning to send the contractor over #contractor looks for like 30 seconds and is like 'yep that thing is completely clogged with dust and a little rusted.' #'also it's 40 years old and to clean it we'd have to remove the whole thing anyway so at that point you might as well replace it.' #so they ran off to leave a proposal for the work with the leasing office #tomorrow is saturday - the leasing office will be open but I'm assuming the contractors will be off unless it's urgent #I'll go irritate them when I get up to see what route we're going with. #(I would like to replace the whole unit - even a cheap one will probably be more energy efficient) #(which helps make up for some of the energy cost) #(since the broken pos has to run all day to get even in the zip code of an acceptable temperature) #(and we're now starting day 5) #but at least my wife picked me up a bunch of snacks and some random little household stuff we'd been meaning to get since we moved #like we ran out of coat hangers #and we know what the problem is now #instead of having the poor on-site general maintenance guys just standing around looking confused #(not their fault they're not highly trained on one specialty machine!) #so like. it is technically an improvement.

[fredwkong]

The Voice in Your Head

Graham was excited about moving into his new apartment. It was in a nice part of town, with good transit access to his job, plus it was pretty spacious for the price. Graham could just picture himself, his plants, maybe a boyfriend, all fitting neatly into the apartment, with its nice hardwood floors and retrofit kitchen.

So, he was quite surprised, on moving day, when the neighbour across the hall grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “There’s something weird about that unit,” the guy hissed in a low voice.

“What are you talking about?” Graham frowned. This guy looked totally ordinary in every way, in his button-up shirt and neatly parted hair. There was no way he was some crazy conspiracy nut.

“The guys who live in there,” the guy continued, seeming frantic, “they change. Most of them get spooked and move out in a few weeks. I’ve never seen one last longer than two months. That’s why the rent is so low.”

“Bull.” Graham tugged himself free. “What is this, some kind of weird building hazing or something? What a way to greet a neighbour.”

As he marched away to unlock the door for the movers, Graham felt his new neighbour’s eyes on his back.

Even though he did his best to put the strange conversation out of his mind, Graham kept thinking about the guy’s words as he unpacked for the rest of the day. He had seemed way too sincere for a prank.

At one point, one of the movers gave a sudden shudder and dropped a box full of Graham’s work shirts and coat hangers. “Sorry,” he muttered, blinking away the wild look in his eyes as his coworkers stared, “there was a...smell.” Graham noticed that he was one of the first to leave the apartment to go wait in the moving van once everything was carried in.

Left alone after the movers set up the basics—bed, couch, dining table, desk, TV stand—Graham stood in the kitchen, trying to recapture his excitement for the new apartment. He couldn’t help feeling like the sunlight through the big windows of the living room looked a little watery, like it couldn’t fully enter the space. Even though it was nice and warm inside the apartment, Graham felt strangely clammy, and he couldn’t settle down.

In an attempt to use the restless energy, Graham paced to the bedroom and cut open his boxes of work clothes. He had a pretty ordinary cubicle job, so there was a certain standard of professionalism to meet, but Graham also loved business clothes. Getting dressed for work, for Graham, was like putting on a professional person, like he could pretend to be someone else for 8 hours a day. He had dozens of slim-fit button-ups for his skinny body, perfectly chosen to match his pale skin. Matching sets of slacks and blazers quickly filled the closet.

The action was soothing, and pretty soon Graham was unpacking his loafers. He’d cleaned them before putting them in the box, but he decided to give them a quick polish before putting them on the shoe rack. As he went to get a rag, Graham suddenly thought, I bet those won’t fit for long.

He stopped, halfway to the kitchen. The thought had been so out of character and strange. But, it sounded like his internal voice. It was a weird feeling.

Don’t worry about it.

Graham shook his head and resolved not to worry about it, grabbing the rag and putting his shoes away.

That night, Graham had trouble getting to sleep. It was like he couldn’t get warm, even under all the covers. He tossed and turned until, finally, he drifted off.

It was still dark when his eyes opened. Somewhere around 4 AM. Feeling strangely detached from himself, Graham swung out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Looking into the mirror in the darkness, Graham found himself stripping out of his silk pyjamas to see his own skinny, pale body. His lips moved, and Graham heard himself mumble, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

As if puppeted by someone else, Graham’s body moved through a series of bodybuilding poses. “There’s potential, though,” he heard himself mumble into the darkness.

He lifted up his arm and stuck his nose into his armpit, frowning. “Don’t worry, dude, you’re in good hands,” Graham’s voice told him. “I’ll go slow so you don’t get spooked.” Then he chuckled to himself. “Heh, spooked.”

The morning sun had Graham blinking awake. He’d had a strange dream, talking to himself in the bathroom. But as he pushed aside the covers, Graham frowned. He was naked, even though he always slept in pyjamas.

The pyjamas were on the bathroom floor, tossed carelessly. Well, Graham thought, maybe he’d overheated…while on the toilet.

Anyway, he’d been too tired to take a shower last night, but he definitely needed one before work today. Graham stepped into the shower and turned the tap, but was disappointed to hear a gurgling somewhere in the pipes. Only a few drops came out.

One more day won’t hurt.

“One more day won’t hurt,” Graham said, vocalising what his inner voice had said. He would email the building manager and get the shower fixed today. In the meantime, he applied a few extra layers of deodorant and fixed his hair as best as he could.

Still, Graham was self-conscious all day. He dreaded any coworker getting close enough to smell him or notice that his skin was a little greasy. By lunch break, he had rehearsed in his head a whole speech about walking to work to explain why he was so gross. It was a relief when the clock hit 5 PM and no one commented.

The repair man was standing outside Graham’s apartment when he got home, and he let them in. Apparently, there was nothing obviously wrong with the shower. It even ran on the repair man’s first try at turning the tap. Still, the man recommended that Graham put aside some tap water in case it kept acting up. At least he could take a sponge bath.

No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.

“No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.” Graham wasn’t sure why he’d said that. It was like someone else had spoken through his lips. It was kind of urgent to have regular showers. But he shook hands with the repair man and smiled as he saw him out. If the shower was just randomly acting up, he’d learn to adapt to it.

The guy across the hall looked out his door while Graham stood there, thinking through the strange thought he’d had. “You okay?” he asked. “Nothing…weird happening in there?”

Nothing to worry about.

“Nothing to worry about.” Graham smiled at his neighbour. Yeah, he was feeling pretty relaxed. With his move done, he really did have nothing to worry about. He was just jittery about his new place. “Graham, by the way.”

“Leo,” said the neighbour, still looking rather nervous. “You sure? Usually, guys go screaming down the hall their first night, yelling about feet and nightmares, like they're being haunted.”

Not this time.

“Not this time.” Maybe Leo really was some kind of conspiracy theorist. Graham still had more unpacking to do. “Nice to meet you.” He closed the door.

First things first, though, Graham wanted to finally get his first shower in his new place. He went and turned the tap.

Nothing.

Graham took a deep breath to calm himself down and went to fill a pot with water from the kitchen sink.

Hahahahaha. Laughter filled his mind. Graham froze in the middle of the kitchen. No matter what, his mental voice laughing at him couldn’t be a good sign, right?

The only thing to do with a problem is laugh.

That logic seemed sound. It wasn’t the way Graham usually dealt with problems, though. He was the kind of guy who tended to panic at the slightest opportunity.

He must be maturing.

Chuckling a bit to himself, Graham went to get his basin of water for a sponge bath.

The sponge baths really weren’t so bad, and by the time the shower started working randomly a few days later, Graham couldn’t find any of his soap or shampoo. He had a vague memory of dreaming that he’d thrown them out, but that was ridiculous. Every time he thought about getting more bathing supplies, he’d have the thought that it was just a lot of effort. He was doing fine with water alone, why complicate it?

One night a week or so after his move, Graham found himself staring at his ceiling late in the night. He must be dreaming again. He felt his lips move. “I think I’m gonna try moving in for real, just a bit. Don’t mind me.”

Suddenly, Graham’s feet went ice cold, and a strange, wet, slippery sensation slid into his feet. They felt…tight, like they were overfull somehow.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a tight fit. Don’t worry, I’ll work you in slowly,” said Graham’s mouth.

Still with that strange, distant sensation, as if he wasn’t in control of his body, Graham sat up in bed and swung his feet to the floor. He watched as his toes wriggled and something shifted under the skin. They did look a little bloated. Over several minutes, Graham watched like a passenger while his feet flexed back and forth, looking a little larger with each twist of the arch and ankle. Dark hair began to sprout on his growing toes.

At last, they seemed to stabilise, and Graham’s body lifted his right foot up. A faint, but distinctive, aroma rose from the massive sole. “Mmm, smells like being alive,” said Graham’s mouth with a smirk.

The next morning, Graham laid in bed for a long time. He’d never been a foot guy, so this dream was especially strange. He realised, thinking back on it, that his cock had, in fact, been hard the entire time. There was even a stain in his Calvins—somehow, every night he’d worn pyjamas to bed he’d tossed them off while dreaming—like he’d had a wet dream.

When he got out of bed, he wondered why his feet looked oddly tan against the skin of his legs. And, later, why they felt strangely snug in his loafers. They pinched where they had felt perfectly comfortable before.

When he got home, it was a relief to tear his shoes off, but Graham wrinkled his nose at the sharp aroma emanating from his sweaty socks. That was it, he resolved, he needed to stop procrastinating and wash himself properly again.

But it is sort of hot.

Graham paused as he was about to start making a shopping list. If he really thought about it, the scent was kind of hot. No one had mentioned that Graham wasn’t soaping up his body or deodorizing anymore. The smell from his feet hadn’t bothered anyone. It was like it was his own little dirty secret. Like another role he could play underneath his work role.

And the smell really was sort of attractive.

“New shoes” went on the shopping list.

Some sneakers, too. To get really smelly.

Right, Graham didn’t want to mess up any work shoes as he experimented with this new interest of his. “Sneakers.”

It was like his dream had opened a floodgate. Every night, Graham dreamed of his feet growing erotically, and each day they were just a bit larger, with just a bit more stink built up on them. In his dreams, Graham talked to himself, talking about getting gym equipment, a bunch of new clothes, even about how boring Graham found his job.

More and more, Graham found himself agreeing with his dreaming self. One evening, he put a bunch of gym equipment into his Amazon cart, then turned off his computer. Gym stuff cost a lot of money, he needed to be sure he wanted to buy it. But that night, he dreamed about sitting at his computer to finalise the order, and the equipment arrived a few days later. At that point, it seemed like a waste to return it, so Graham set it up in the spare room, where he had originally planned to have a library.

Books are boring.

Graham had decided books were boring.

Any time he was at home now, Graham kept finding himself thinking, “I should do a few reps.” The results were unbelievable, with muscles thickening all over his body in what seemed like just a few days. It wasn’t long before Graham was outgrowing all of his clothes, quickly wearing out three new pairs of jeans in as many weeks.

Sweats are better anyway.

Graham’s new fitness obsession extended into his dreams, too. The cold, slippery sensation still enveloped his feet every night, but it also covered most of his body now. In his dreams, Graham would feel himself get out of bed and strut to the bathroom to pose and flex as his muscles grew larger and larger, until they bulged off his frame.

Once his muscles had grown thick and tanned dark, Graham’s dreams went in a few different directions. Often, he would watch in the mirror as he sniffed his armpits or feet, jacking the thick, musky foreign cock that had grown in place of his average, cut dick. Sometimes, Graham would hear himself say, “Nah, needs some more,” after sniffing himself. Then, he would go to his home gym and pump out reps until he was coated in sweat.

He always woke up aching and coated in stale sweat after those dreams, with a pungent scent emanating from his armpits and shockingly larger feet.

Every few nights, Graham had a dream where he would run his thick, callused hands over his neck and face, subtly pinching and compressing his face until a handsome stranger looked back at him in the mirror. “There, that���s the real me,” he would say to himself in a deep, smokey voice.

After those dreams, Graham was always surprised to see his normal face in the mirror. And yet, there would be a familiar sharpness to his jaw, or the set of his dark eyebrows, that reminded him of the face in his dreams.

The world outside his apartment felt increasingly strange. It was like a part of his internal voice was missing. He had trouble understanding his own thoughts, now. It was like he was a jumble of two different people. Had he really used to spend most of his free time reading library books? Was he really the kind of guy who didn’t put himself up for a bonus at the end of the year?

The apartment was safe and secure. It was like Graham’s mind was wrapped in calm and good sense as soon as he walked in. His mind spoke louder, which let him make better decisions, like the time that he wore sweats and T-shirt to work. It had made perfect sense when he walked out the door, but then he had stumbled over his words when he tried to explain to his boss why he was dressed appropriately for work.

Long story short, Graham was arriving home early today. He was just unlocking his door when Leo came barrelling up the stairs in running gear. He stopped when he spotted Graham, just stepping over the threshold and into the wonderful calm of his apartment.

“Who are—Graham?” Leo stared at him. “Is that really you?”

Graham looked down at himself, then back over at Leo. “Uh, yeah?”

“No way. You’re so…muscular and tan. I barely recognise your face.”

“Yeah, I had a bit of a growth spurt.” Graham flexed a bicep with a grin.

“A growth spurt powered by anabolics and a talented plastic surgeon, sure,” Leo was frowning at him.

Graham was kind of offended by his rude neighbour. He’d put a lot of hard work into this body!

Yeah, I have. Get him in the apartment.

“Look,” Graham sighed, the words spilling from his lips like in his dreams, “I’ve had a bad day. Just come inside if you want to talk.”

Leo seemed to hesitate, just for an instant. “But that’s the—“

“Either get inside, or get out of my face.” Graham’s voice sounded a bit gruff to his ears, beyond just the depth that it had gained over the months he’d lived here. It was like it was another man’s voice.

Leo shook himself. “Okay.” He steeled himself and followed Graham over the threshold.

Perfect.

“Whew, it’s ripe in here, man,” Leo observed. “Do you ever shower?”

“Just with cold water.” Graham kicked out of his sneakers, freeing his massive, socked feet and stretching them out. More and more, he felt separate from his body, as if he was watching it move. Still, it hadn’t done anything he wouldn’t have done, he thought. He was just playing another role.

“Well, clearly, it’s not…enough…” Graham watched, his mouth held in a strange smile, as Leo seemed to lose his train of thought. The man’s nostrils flared, and he swayed slightly.

“Yeah, not so mighty and judgmental anymore,” said Graham’s voice. “You’ve forced me to move up my schedule a bit, but it’s not a problem.”

Leo licked his lips before answering. “Sorry, sir,” he said thickly.

“You’re the guy who’s been helping my potential bodies escape, aren’t you?”

“I warn them about this apartment…I keep listings for new places they can go…” Leo’s eyes started to clear, and he shook his head. “No, wait, what the fuck—“

In a flash, Graham leapt into action. He didn’t know how he got one of his sneakers in his hand, but he grabbed Leo in a headlock and shoved his face into the putrid interior. “Nuh-uh-uh, no escapes or exorcisms this time,” Graham’s voice whispered, as Leo thrashed in his strong arms. “The more you fight, the more you fall. Isn’t it hot? My sexy, sweaty new body all around you, and the smell and taste of my foot musk all over your face?”

As Graham spoke, Leo’s struggles weakened. Graham watched with amusement as they both slumped to the floor, a rock-hard boner growing in Leo’s running shorts.

Finally, Graham’s grip on the sneaker loosened, even as Leo reached up to hold it himself. “Look, this is all just a misunderstanding,” Graham’s said soothingly. “You’ve thought I was a sexy beast since I moved in, right? You loved my big, musky muscles and my foot stink. That’s why you made up that story about a haunted apartment.”

Leo’s eyes seemed to be rolling uncontrollably in his head, but he nodded.

“Now I’ve finally noticed you and invited you inside. You just couldn’t help yourself, you foot slut. You were gonna tackle me before I gave you that shoe to lick.”

Leo nodded fervently, moaning. A wet spot was forming at his crotch.

“Now we’re gonna go to the bedroom and I’m gonna shove my cheesy uncut cock in that virgin hole of yours, okay bro?”

“Fuck,” Leo gasped, muffled through the shoe. “Fuck yes, Graham.”

“Nah, man,” said Graham’s voice, picking Leo up like he was a doll, “I’d rather you call me Grey.”

As Grey’s thick cock entered Leo, Graham found himself watching as if from outside himself. He could see his own handsome, angular face as he fucked Leo. He could see Grey’s massive, musky feet shift as he gained a better angle to make Leo squeal. He could even watch the dribbles of sweat run over his thick ass as his voice gave short, sharp pants.

“Fuck yeah,” Grey said to himself in a harsh voice, picking up the pace.

“This is my body.”

“This is my fucking musk temple.”

“Made it all by my-fucking-self.”

“Feels fucking good to be alive.”

As Grey buried his thick, musky cock deep in Leo, shaking through his orgasm, Graham found himself back inside his body. Once again, he watched like a passenger as Grey licked his load out of Leo’s asshole, then sent his happy new foot slut on his way with a spare sneaker and instructions to stop using soap and add Grey's contact info to his bank account.

Eventually, Grey lounged on the couch, naked, idly stroking his slimy, still-lubed cock and scrolling through Grindr. “What do you think, Graham?” he said out loud. “Since it's my first night able to leave the apartment, I should go crash some boys’ b-ball game and make some more foot slaves, right?”

Graham couldn’t help but agree. He was just the voice in Grey’s head, after all.

This story is a slightly belated holiday gift for @idesofrevolution! Happy holidays, and here's to a hot and sexy new year ;)

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #male tf #race change #musk tf #male possession #gay possession #feet kink tf #all fwkong

[minihotdog]

Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You took the tea)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, sexist-type humor, size kink

Word Count: 3k

Previous part

“You want some tea, love?”

***

You’re now sitting at the small round dinner table watching as he tilts the kettle into the mugs. He walks the mugs over to the table and sits across from you.

“Didn’t have anyone to stay with, did you?” He asks before taking a sip.

“I sure didn’t. Everyone is still avoiding me like the plague.” You stare down at the mug. 

“It’ll end soon.” He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. The action catches your attention and he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. For a stone-cold man, he sure was catching himself smirking a lot tonight. 

“When I showed up to my first unit I got the same, and the unit after that.” The two of you drink simultaneously.

“What? They ignored you?”

“No,” He chuckles softly. “My first unit, they held me down and branded me with a shite-looking coat of arms made from a wire clothes hanger.”

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand.

“What?! Where?!”

“My bum.”

You snort, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You cover your face with your hands. His shoulders rise and fall with soft laughter.

“It is a little.”

“Did they ever get in trouble? Reprimanded?”

“Never told anyone, ran into them at my next unit and pummeled them into the ground.”

“Bravo!” You celebrate with your hands in the air. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Then I was disciplined for the beatin’ they got but it was worth it.”

“I agree, they had it coming.”

You take another gulp of your tea enjoying the spread of warmth inside of you.

“You’re quite fond of trouble.” He states flatly. You still, squinting at him in suspicion.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your files,” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Lengthy history of discipline, being reprimanded.”

You hum in response. “Is that the word on the street?”

He grins, his hand coming up to stroke his stubble before he sits back with his arms crossed looking at you. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble a couple of times in my career, what about it?”

“How long have you been in?”

“Five years.”

“You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been reprimanded nearly every single year you’ve been in?” He now leans on the table looking over at you with a dumbfounded look.

“Shit happens, I have no problem taking responsibility for it.”

“I didn’t take you for the type to cause trouble.”

“I’m not, I just don’t have the grace other people do. I do something stupid and get caught immediately.”

“You’re right about that. You’re a naughty one, for sure.” He says before downing the remaining liquid in his mug.

He smirks to himself letting his eyes roam over your shoulders.

"I heard that boyfriend of yours was a calvary bum." He pokes, changing the subject. 

You "tsk" at him. Once everyone found out about your now ex-boyfriend they never let you live it down.

"What's his job got to do with anything?"

Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance, “Assumed a woman like you preferred men, that’s all.”

“Oh, hush!” You bite back a laugh refusing to meet his eyes. 

“I bet he cried like a child at the thought of going to the field.”

“That’s enough out of you!” You reach over the table to cover his mouth. He fights you off taking your wrists in his hands. He stands and walks to your side of the table gently pulling up by the wrists. His massive frame takes most of your view, you can’t help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach having him tower over you.

“Poor bird, spendin’ her nights with half a man. Bet he didn’t have a clue what he was doin’.”

The warmth you felt from the tea was traveling up to your cheeks. He was so close you could smell the rich cologne in his skin. His hands were so rough but warm on your pulse. 

Your eyes focus on his lips.

“Did he?” The gravel of his voice makes a shiver run through your spine. You gulp before responding.

”He was… enthusiastic.”

Simon laughs hoarsely, “Enthusiastic?” He enunciates with a shit-eating grin.

”Why is my sex life a topic of conversation to my Lt.?” You suddenly get some courage.

”You think I haven’t noticed you droolin’ over me, love. Peakin’ at me from afar. Now you show up to my flat with your tits fallin’ out of your top, your bare ass out, and a broken heart from some lad not worth the air he breathes.” He drops his head forcing you to meet his eyes. “Quite the coincidence, innit?”

”I think it’s more of a happy coincid-“ He breaks your sentence off catching your lips with his. Your brain pushes you out of your frozen state and the two of you begin moving in unison. He slowly releases your wrists and moves his hands to your waist. Your hands run down his chest.

He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan softly as his tongue plays with yours. He pulls you against him, one hand over yours on his chest the other at the small of your back. You feel lightheaded, not in a bad way, quite the opposite. You’d fantasized about your Lt. plenty of times, his touch, the scars he hid beneath his army green top, the way his lips felt - come to find out they were soft, unlike the rest of him. His hands keep setting you ablaze when they touch your skin, the callouses nearly make your eyes roll back.

He growls into the kiss, tearing himself away from you. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and you grab onto his shoulders. He lifts and places you on the table, forcing himself between your legs. He bites at your neck, pulling you into him. You grip the table feeling as if you could slide off at any second. 

He eats up every single gasp he gets out of you. His teeth graze your collar bone and he sucks on the sensitive skin. Your nails run over his scalp down to the back of his neck drawing a groan from him.

He stops for a moment to let you catch your breath.

”You want this, love?” He leans his forehead against yours looking into your eyes.

“God, yes!” You exasperate. 

He chuckles, still looking into your eyes.

”Hold on.”

”What do you-“ 

You squeal as he lifts you off the table and rushes to wrap your arms around his neck. You rest your head on his neck relishing in the feeling of his body against yours. Warmth radiated off of him like a furnace, the feel of his skin so addictive.

He carries you to the couch placing his knee on the cushions before gently placing you on your back. He follows you down and your hands run down his bare back.

He supports himself with one arm, the other trails down to your aching core, cupping the mound. He lets out a ragged breath once he feels the heat burning through you. He moves to pull your shorts off, dragging them up your legs and tossing them off to the side.

”Fuckin’ hell,” He groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Such a bad girl walking around without knickers.”

He gives you one last hypnotizing kiss before brushing his lips in between your breasts. He kisses each one and carries on down your stomach and lands right above your clit.

You panic inside, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Lt.”

”Fuck’s sake, love. As much as I love hearin’ you call me that, say my name, will you?” He laughs light-heartedly. You smile behind your hand trying not to break out in giggles. 

“What is it?” His eyebrows pull together.

”You don’t have to do that if you don’t want.”

”Eat you out?” He looks at you confused.

You nod slowly, embarrassed at the question.

He “Tsks” at you lowering himself once again while muttering something along the lines of, “Calvary muppet took the fun out of pussy, didn’t he?”

”I’m serious! You don’t have to!” You spit out frantically.

“Shut up, doll.”

He licks a stripe up your cunt and moans softly to himself. Your lips part in disbelief. He slowly laps at your clit and you lower yourself onto your back. He decides not to work you too fast yet, scared you’d pass out after being neglected by that dumb bloke for so long. 

You whine softly, legs already shaking. He wraps his arms around your thighs and presses them against his head.

He gently sucks on your clit and your hand shoots down to his head. The feeling of you tugging one his short locs encourages him to speed up. His lips wrap around your clit and toys with it as he pleases. The pace causes you to clamp your thighs around his head on your own.

Moans pour from your lips as your back arches. His hands stroke your thighs as you restrain yourself from pushing his head down further.

”Simon! Oh god!” Your mouth hangs open. You look down at him and nearly orgasm seeing him between your legs. His eyes are blown out, his thumb caresses your skin.

He lets go of one thigh and his fingers tap at your entrance gathering your wetness. He pushes two of his fingers inside you and your head falls back. Your vision goes fuzzy and you clamp your eyes shut. His fingers pump into you hitting your g-spot each time.

Your hand flies to your mouth and you let out a high-pitched moan. You chant his name tightening around his fingers. He feels your walls clamp down and continues pumping letting you ride it out. Your hips twitch, your thighs trap him where he is. 

He waits until you go limp to pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

”Fuck, you made a mess.” He groans. He climbs above you and peppers your face with kisses. “Was that alright, love?” 

You open your eyes to meet his, all you can do is nod unable to trust yourself to talk. He smirks at you, proud of himself for leaving you in such a state.

”You think you can take me, love, or do you need some time?”

”Want you so bad,” You whine out.

He lowers his head for a chaste kiss and pulls himself up onto his feet. He drops his sweats revealing the thick muscle of his thighs. His cock slaps his thigh as he throws his sweats onto the floor, the weight of it keeping it down. Your eyes meet his member and a wave of nervousness comes over you. His length was impressive but the thickness was your biggest concern. 

“Hey! You weren’t wearing underwear either, hypocrite!”

He rolls his eyes at you with a smile. A sight so beautiful you can’t help but smile back.

He takes his earlier position above you and aligns himself with your entrance. He looks up at you and you feel his tip poking into you already.

”Ready, doll?”

You nod at him.

”Say it.” He whispers.

”I-I’m ready.”

”Alright then.” He nudges your forehead with his before the two of you look down to watch the sinful show of him slowly sliding into you. You gasp, hands going to his back. He moves at a snail’s pace letting you adjust as he goes. He cradles your head, forehead against yours trying to keep his breathing steady.

”Ah, tight little thing.” He rasps out.

Your mouth hangs open, your nails digging into his skin, legs hugging his waist once he fills you to the hilt. He waits a moment before slowly sliding out halfway and bringing himself back to the same depth. Your whines draw out. His tip hits the deepest parts of you so well that you nearly begin drooling.

He examines your face for any sign of discomfort before nudging your neck with his nose. He begins with a moderate pace as he kisses along your jaw. You wrap your arms around him, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head. 

The stretch from his cock stings slightly, the overwhelming pleasure sending tingles through your bones making it hard to notice. He continues rocking his hips into yours letting you enjoy the feel of him without anything too overwhelming. You mewl into his ear as he stretches you over and over.

”Fuck, so good,” You whine.

His hand comes down to grip your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, circling it gently. He slides his legs up kneeling with you in between his thighs. He stops, letting you catch your breath and he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He suckles the nub, playing with it with his warm tongue. He thumbs your clit as he treats the nub like a candy. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his cock, dragging you down the cushions fucking you onto him for a while. 

He angles his hips to hit all the right places, your cunt throbs around him when he hits your g-spot head on causing you to gasp.

”Oh fuck! Right there!” Your hands cling onto his forearms for dear life as he goes on to hit the spot repeatedly until it nearly hurts. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every thrust. He picks up his pace, throttling that poor little sensitive spot. Your back arches painfully. He takes advantage of it and throws his hand under your waist keeping you in the position swinging you down to meet his thrusts.

He stuffs you with his cock relentlessly. You become a mess beneath him struggling to get words out, just high-pitched moans filling the room.

”God! Oh god!” 

“He’s not here, love. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He orders.

The feeling grows inside you pulling the air from your lungs. He nips the skin below your breasts and licks a stripe between them to your neck. Your pussy flutters around him before you fall deep into euphoria, his name pours from you. Your ears ring and eyes wire themselves shut as you clamp down around him. Tears pour from your eyes involuntarily. 

The sequence of flutters pulls him back into you making it too difficult to pull out too far. He buries his head in your chest as he’s pulled over the edge. He moans into your skin as your body sucks him back in, milking him so hard he blinks trying to rid himself of the fog. He begins spilling into you, his white hot streams shooting out at high velocity. He paints your walls so thoroughly that you feel his cock twitching with every spasm. 

His cum spills out of you not having any more room to fill. You gush around him and he quietly gasps. 

The two of you stay like this for what could’ve been an eternity. The post-orgasmic haze engulfs the both of you. He keeps himself inside and lowers himself onto his side, dragging you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He pulls you into his sweaty heaving chest and kisses your forehead. 

He feels a wetness on his thumb and pulls back, wiping away your tears.

”What’s happened, Y/n?” He asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He moves to pull himself out of you and you grab him, bringing him to a stop. “You’re crying, love.”

”That was amazing.” You mumble, eyes struggling to open.

”You cryin’ because it was good?” He laughs, a big goofy smile plasters itself on his face. You force your eyes open to peek at him. 

“You smile so pretty.”

He pulls you back to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.

”Thank you, love.” You could still hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed, yeah?”

”Too sleepy.” You complain.

”It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Against your protests, he lifts himself slowly and positions himself to pull out of you. He gives you a single nudge with his cock still sheathed and you nearly purr. 

He pulls out slowly.

”Jesus, I’m gonna need a new couch.” He mutters. His cum spills from you, his eyes glued to your core watching it slowly pour out. His cock twitches and he has to look away. There was no way you were in shape for another round. Thankfully the memory was burned into his mind - the best thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course. 

He lets you know he’ll be back and you hear water rushing down the hall. He returns moments later and slides his hands under you.

”Bath time,” He says in a sing-song-y voice. You giggle, lacing your fingers behind his neck. He lifts you in his arms and looks into your eyes. “You were wonderful.” He pecks your lips and carries you off to his bathroom placing you in the bathtub before sliding in behind you.

”I don’t have a hair tie but I’ll try with some string,” He says mostly to himself. The warm water only reaches your belly button, once he slides behind you it rises a few inches. He wraps your hair into a funny-looking bun and ties it with the piece of string he found.

” Ta-da.” 

“Thank you, Simon.” You say sweetly leaning back against him. He holds you against him and you feel something poke into your back.

”Sorry, love. It’ll go down, I don’t expect you to stay awake long enough for another one.”

You moan in response and sigh letting the water nearly lull you to sleep. 

“Wait,” you breathe out. “Does me saying your name turn you on?”

He doesn’t respond. You try to look up at him but he tightens his hold not wanting you to see the red spawning over his face.

”Siiiiimon”

”Oh, hush.” He imitates your voice.

”Hey!”

He grabs his loofa and begins lathering you in bubbles.

”C’mon, I wanna get you in bed before you fall asleep.”

He cleans every bit of you, focusing on your breasts because no matter how much he denied it at that moment, he was still a dog. He hands you a bath bomb that he saved in case he ever had a special someone stay over and let you watch it fizz up as he cleans himself.

He dries you off and plops you down on his massive bed wearing his t-shirt. By the time he throws on his boxers you’re fast asleep under the covers, engulfed in his scent.

He slides next to you pulling you into his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and whispers into your hair, “You’re mine now, doll. All mine.”

#Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost #simonghostrileysmut #simonrileysmut #codsmut #simonrileyxreader #simonghostrileyxreader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader

[lomlhwa]

pose for me (j.wy)

pairing: boudoir photographer!wooyoung x model!reader

preview: you take a job as a model for a world renowned photographer. obviously, your boudoir photo shoot wasn't supposed to escalate to a sex tape.

tags/warnings: fem reader, boudoir photography, sex tape filming, big dick!wooyoung, pet names (good girl, baby, pretty girl), breast play, oral (m. receiving), cum eating, marking, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: all filming and photography is CONSENTED explicity, multiple times.

wc: 1.6k

song recs for this fic: desire by ateez, tail by sunmi, no manners by superm, cyber sex by doja cat

a/n: the header is actually what inspired the whole plot of this fic. don't ask why i chose woo for this one either. bro just gave the right vibes ig. enjoy photographer wooyoung

this is it. unit 6 of the apartment building the photographer’s manager had directed you to.

this is actually pretty surreal to you. you’re meeting up with world renowned photographer, jung wooyoung. he’s known for photographing celebrities but he hasn’t done that in quite some time.

he’s shifted his expertise to boudoir photography for up and coming models. you just so happen to be one of those models. 

but, you’re not really here to make a name for yourself in the modeling industry. you’re really here to just meet wooyoung. you’ve heard… things from other models in your company. things about how their sessions escalated to technically unprofessional events.

now, of course you’re not here to try and lose your career. but you want some proof towards the rumors of wooyoung’s skills. 

and size. 

you knock on the door. four times. you hear some shuffling behind the door before a beautiful man opens the door. the wind is almost knocked out of you when he opens the door.

“y/n?” you nod, holding out your hand for a handshake. “you must be mr. jung” you smile. “please, call me wooyoung. this is only a mildly professional environment” he steps out of the way, ushering you into his apartment. 

you move to take your red heels off but wooyoung placed his hand on your shoulder. “i think those heels will suit a set of lingerie i have” he says, his voice sounding silky smoothing. he sounds like honey in your head. you nod, leaving your heels on. 

you shimmy your coat off and put it on a hanger. he hands you a lacy, shimmery set of red lingerie. he was right, your heels do suit this set. “you can go put it on in the room down the hall. that’s my make-shift dressing room for models.”

you walk down the hall and walk into the room. you close the door behind you and make sure to lock it. yes, you’re partially here to get laid but you’d like to be consensually naked in front of him rather than because you’re being watched.

you finish putting on the lingerie and examine yourself in the mirror. you look good. you look… fuckable. you put on some light red makeup and some red glittery gloss. you pout your lips in the mirror. kissable. 

you put on the fluffy white bathrobe left in the room for you to wear until the shoot officially starts. you walk back out to the main room to see wooyoung setting up a pink backdrop and adjusting the props. the props include; broken up angel wings to make you look like a fallen angel, a halo painted black, and a mattress that’s been cut into and parts have been splashed with black and red paint. clearly, he planned a whole concept for you. you appreciate this aspect of his work. 

“oh, you’re ready?” wooyoung says, finally noticing your presence in the room.  you nod, sudden nerves hitting you. “the set fits perfectly” you smile. “i followed the exact measurements you sent me. i would hope it fit” he laughs lightheartedly. 

you walk further into the room, walking over to the section of the room with the backdrop. you examine the props that he prepared for you. they’re quite interesting to look at. they really suit everything you’re already wearing. 

“are you ready to get on with the shoot, y/n?” his voice breaks the silence so suddenly that you jump a little. “yes, i’m ready” you remove your robe and stand in front of the ripped up mattress.

“how do you want me first?” you break his longing gaze on your body. “on your stomach, head in your hands, legs up behind you” he explains. getting into seductive positioning immediately was expected. 

you get into the requested position and try to get comfortable. he places the painted halo on your head, adjusting it to be slightly crooked. he hesitated for a moment before running his thumb over your bottom lip. he smudges your red gloss over your chin, making it look like you’d been kissed a whole bunch. 

“that’s better” he says, his voice low and almost seductive. you smile at him. you hope you look good. good enough to fuck. 

he walks away from you, getting behind his camera. he adjusts it a few times before seeming satisfied with its position. he clicks a few photos before groaning. are you doing something wrong? 

“you don’t look, fallen angel-ish enough” he says, sliding his fingers through his hair. he sighs, contemplating what to do to fix what he finds to be lacking. he stands there, looking at you and thinking. you almost wish you could read his mind. what is he thinking right now? “get up” he says. you roll off the mattress and get up onto your feet. “is something wrong? what’s-” he cuts you off with his lips on yours. his tongue darts out, almost like he’s trying to get a taste of your cherry red gloss. if he could, he would probably be eating your lips. 

“i know what’s missing” you whisper into his lips. you slide your hands down his body, ending up on your knees. you fumble with his belt buckle for a moment before getting undone. you slide it out of the loops in his pants and place it on the floor. you undo the button on his dress pants and slide them along with his underwear down to mid-thigh. his cock is… big, to say the least. the rumors about this part are true. 

he rushes to grab his camera. he turns it on the recording setting. “mind if i film our little encounter?” he asks. you shake your head. “i don’t mind at all” you smile sheepishly at him. 

you take him into your hand, stroking him softly. you look up at him with big doe eyes. your messy lips and big eyes almost made him cum on the spot. he bites his lip as your hand speeds up its motions. he throws his head back, his own hand coming to rest on the back of your head. 

you stick your tongue out, licking the bead of pre-cum that had gathered on his tip. you take his tip into your mouth entirely, swirling your tongue around it. you take your hands of and nudge your head down his length further. he takes this opportunity to fuck your mouth. 

saliva builds up in your mouth with every pass of his cock in your throat. you can’t even take all of it in your mouth, even with the tip passing your uvula. you cough around his length, more saliva spilling out of your mouth. a puddle is gathering on the floor between your knees. 

he holds your head steady as his seed spills into your throat suddenly. you gag, the saltiness overtaking your tastebuds. you remove your mouth from his half-hard length, swallowing his seed. you wipe your mouth, the gloss staining your hand.

wooyoung helps you off your numb knees, holding your hand up to his mouth. he licks the gloss remnants off the back of your hand. he adjusts the recording camera to face the mattress. he then connects his lips to yours, nibbling on your lips. he backs you up towards the battered mattress. he helps you lower yourself onto the mattress. 

he removes your bright red panties and throws them across the room. he settles himself between your legs. he doesn’t intend to enter you just yet. he has a fascination with your breasts. he has since you took your robe off. he wants to touch them.

“arch your back” you do as told and he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. he does it with one hand. impressive. he discards your bra with your panties. wooyoung trails his hands over your hardened nipples. he tweaks one of them, a whine leaving your mouth. he alternates between each of your breasts. poking, prodding, tweaking. 

he leans down to connect his mouth with the plush skin. he leaves dark blue and red marks all over your bare skin. the hairs all over your body stand on edge as he does this. your hands tangle in his black locks, tugging just barely.

when he finally disconnects from your bitten chest, a trail of saliva leaves you connected. the sight makes you clench around nothing.

he readjusts himself between your legs. he palms himself before aligning with your hole. he looks at you with a sweetness in his eyes as he sheathes himself in you. his mouth hangs open in a small ‘o’ shape. you arch your back, the movement causing slight twitches throughout your body. 

he slams into you harshly. your entire body jolts with each movement. your own mouth hangs open, gasping moans coming out of it. fast, panting breaths cause your chest to rise and fall rapidly. 

‘woo- ah, wooyoung please” you wrap your legs around his waist and try and get him as close to you as possible. your back twitches, alternating between being flat and being fully arched. your nails dig into wooyoung’s forearm. 

“cumming, fuck, woo gimme cum” you beg. you pout your lips, licking over your lips. your swollen, fucked out state sends him over the edge. he groans your name, spilling himself intp you. you cum along with him, a loud cry of his name escaping your own mouth. 

he gets up off of you, pulling his underwear and pants back up his legs. he hands you your bra, which you quickly put back on. he stops the recording and picks his camera up off the tripod. he positions the halo back onto your head and snaps a photo of you, all covered in makeup and sweat.

“perfect shot.” 

© lomlhwa 2023

#lomlhwa #ateez #atz #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #jung wooyoung smut

[shotgunbunny]

Cherry wine

Bunny walks the aisle

WC:3.2k+ GIF by cevanscentral

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

[dark! cult leader!Ari Levinson x airhead!Reader]

[warnings: will have dubcon/noncon, cult aspects, 6'6 Ari, Older man and younger woman, reader is over 18!, will have murder, violence etc. air head reader!, busty reader, basically bimbo reader!]

[this chapter: so very culty, strange behaviour from everyone, manipulation, a wedding, reader finally seeing something wrong, blood, Literally the whole wedding it's so culty.]

The day was finally here, and the town was somber yet enthusiastic. It was such a strange mix, the air being cold and the people being sad yet the sun was shining on your skin making you warm and everyone you passed was smiling. There was something strange occurring yet you didn't know what it was.

You allowed the somber buzz of the crowds become music to your ears as you got ready to wed the towns messiah. You were so very nervous everything had gone by so fast, and you had learned so much. You felt your heart racing in your chest mix with the sinking feeling in your stomach. Something was so very wrong today. Yet it was meant to be your wedding day, the happiest day of your life. So why didn't you feel the happiness?

You took a deep breath, the wedding was at night in the chapel that had an open top that allowed for the snow to blast in and coat the pews with it's soft white blanket appearance. It also meant that while flecks of snow floated into the ceremony, the stars would bleed their light above you. It was very beautiful from the sounds of it, but it was so very odd. The cold atmosphere that was supposed to unite you under the darkness.

You looked up into the mirror in front of you and sighed, releasing all your nerves with your breath and reached to grab the hairbrush. You halted, your hand hovering above the handle, you stared looking at your nails and how beautiful they were. Ari had taken you to get them done, and they were utterly stunning. They were painted white with a design that made it look like it was lace, it was so delicate. You strayed your eyes to your finger that held the ring that Ari had proposed to you with. It was starting to feel heavy and only then did it truly hit you how short of a time you'd known Ari.

You might be an airhead but at least you come to realise the short passage of time that had occurred between you and the strange man that you were meant to marry soon. Your heart pumped faster and your averted your eyes to your reflection. This was a mistake, and you didn't know what to do. You couldn't run away, the whole town was under Ari's boot and if he heard about your runaway attempt he would stomp down and make sure you were stopped.

Your doubts tumbled on even when the women came in to help you get ready. You remained silent and quite like a doll while the makeup artist did her work at trying to make you look like an angel. You saw the shimmer on your eyelid and the painted lips you were adored with. You looked utterly stunning. Your face was smoothed out and a light blush applied as well as a small bit of contour. But your eyes were the most captivating part. You lashes were modest but you still had a doe eyed look, mixed with the glitter and the small dark under eye makeup, you looked innocent.

Next was your hair, You had no idea what they were going to do, but when they were done, you stared at the results. Utterly perfect, that seemed to be all you looked like.

Yet you didn't care, your heart was still hammering over the wedding that was to occur and how you had no way of stopping it. A tap on your shoulder notified you that it was time to get into your dress and prepare for the end of your independence. You rose and took the covered dress and headed into the bathroom where a long mirror stood. You unzipped the protector and a piece of paper tumbled out. You placed the dress on the hanger behind the door and went for the paper.

You picked it up and unfolded it, Ari had written you a note and your heart raced even harder. 'My love, My bunny. This dress I have given you is a family heirloom, all the women have worn the dress when getting married and now it's your turn. I'll be waiting for you at the altar. Yours forever, A.'

You stared at the dress, you could tell it had been modified many times for the different types of women in the Levinson family, and now it has been modified you. You stared, and took breaths slow and deep to calm your heart. After calming down you took the coat gently off the rack and slowly you stepped into it and pulled it up. When you had adjusted it so it fit comfy and held you perfectly and dared to look at your refection.

Your breath was taken from your lungs, the lace sleeves were gorgeous as well as the plunging neckline that was glamourised with more lace. The dress was so long that when you walked you knew it would trail behind you. You looked like a Goddess.

You closed your eyes, even if things were indeed moving so incredibly fast, Ari had promised his love solely for you. And this amount of commitment was positive. You just hoped that all the secrets that wouldn't cause damage to your relationship were out and not lurking behind any nasty corners. You gulped, if that did happen you could atleast be a trophy wife that spend her husbands money and finds happiness in objects, your heart ached at that though. If things ever went wrong in the future, you would prepare a plan on a way to escape and not get caught. But for now, you had to get on with the happiest day of your life.

You walked out and heard the gasps of awe. You smiled and span, you then saw one of the women rise and dig out a long veil. You recognised her as the woman that did your hair, she smiled as she walked towards you, you bowed and tilted your head, presenting your scalp to her. She gently placed the veil on your head and sighed dreamily when you brought your head up. You pushed the veil over you head and smiled.

"Oh! Are there any shoes?" The other women laughed at you, and you looked down shyly before the make up artist placed a soft hand on your shoulder. "Honey, in the ceremony you walk bare foot down the aisle over the petals. Don't worry, your feet will be covered by your dress and Ari made sure every step you take is safe." Your heart started racing again. You truly were not ready for what was going to occur. You had no idea what this ceremony was, and that small voice of your friends from another town, echoed in your head, "It's a cult! Your whole town is totally in a cult!". Oh god. What if it was true, it can't be. The Gods everyone worshipped always provided miracles, always something that no human could do.

You took a breathe and quickly blinked back the tears that slithered into your eyes. You closed you eyes to stop them coming out and kept then closed. You smiled and let yourself day dream instead about how handsome Ari would look. You opened your eyes, a smile still on your face and the thought of Ari waiting for you at the end of the aisle with so much love and adoration let you forget about the crisis that occurred in your brain. "I'm ready to get married." A chorus of cheers danced around the room and you looked at the time it was 8pm. Time had moved so fast while you were thinking about the occasion. So fast that you had to go to the chapel in an hour.

It was beyond anything you had ever imagined. The pillars that stood at the altar were so big and beautifully made. The aisle was littered with white petals and a small sprinkling of snow. It looked as if heaven had shined down some of its beauty onto Earth. Your heart raced fasted as you took in all the guests. All dressed in black or red making them contrast the occasion even further. Your eyes looked around for your parents when you felt your heart shatter.

Ari had told you that didn't want to come, that they would rather die than see their awful child marry a man who was a God. You felt tears gather in your eyes, why would your parents abandon you on the best day of your life and say such nasty things. The inkling of doubt you felt earlier raised up inside you and you fought it down. You couldn't run away now. You were here and everyone would see you leaving. Especially Ari.

You dragged your eyes up to look at him and your breathe was swept away at how truly handsome he was. He stood tall, dressed in a black suit with a black shirt underneath to show off his white tie that matched with your dress. You saw he had shoes on and your curiosity grew even further. Why was he in shoes and you barefoot? What was this ceremony?

Your thoughts were cut off quickly when gentle piano music started playing. The song was so delicate and soothing. You turned and saw all the bridesmaids walk down the aisle and take a seat on the front row next to the groomsmen. You took in a breathe and smiled at the strange older woman who was meant to walk you down the aisle. She wasn't Ari's mother, infact she wasn't even related to Ari but apparently she knew him incredibly well. She brought your veil over your face

She flashed you a smile back and gave you a small bouquet of red roses and looped her arm through yours. The music suddenly stopped and a deep guitar played a slow tune that sounded so somber and gentle. The crowd all silenced, so that not even a breath was heard you knew it was time to begin walking. You took a deep breathe in and began walking with the woman who you were currently connected to. You kept your head down looking at the white floor and dragged your feet against it feeling speckles of cold and softness graze your underfoot.

You finally reached the steps and turned to the strange woman and gave here your bouquet to hold. She accepted them and left to sit down. You looked up and began to climb the marble steps still decorated in petals and snow. Ari held his hand out and you shakily accepted, standing beside him in front of a man who looked like a priest but was dressed purely in red and held a book that was encased in a solid, gold cover.

Ari looked down at you and squeezed your hand before he moved the veil over your head and gasped. "You look look utterly perfect bunny. So very beautiful." You smiled softly and gulped. It was too late, you were doomed something was so very wrong and you could never escape. The priest then began to speak whilst Ari retook your hand and held it firmly in his large hand.

Your brain blocked out the words of the priest finding his repeated words of love and respect mundane. You were finally snapped out of it when you saw movement behind you and watched as Ari brought your conjoined hands Infront of your faces and spread them. You admired momentarily just how small your hand was compared to his and then looked at the two young boys the approached the altar you were under holding rope. You looked at Ari feeling your heart race and panic settle in.

"It's fine my love. You'll see, there's absolutely nothing to fear." You closed your eyes letting yourself settle in this situation. You opened them again and saw Ari looking at you with soft eyes, you returned them and watched as the two boys gave the rope to the priest. He then tied your hands together tight. You decided that now you were going to listen to every word that man says scared that something strange will occur again.

"These beings are now united, but we must see if the fire of the world will destroy their love that unites them." You watched as the priest lit a match and your heart raced incredibly fast allowing for panic to fill your face again Ari simple cooed at you. Your stared at his calm face and then at the match that touched the rope. You stared as it lit and burned it. It hurt for a minor second, like a prick of a needle and you watched in fascination as the rope flashed with fire and the died down, still completely intact.

Your mouth gaped open at what just occurred. The rope should be burnt and so should you hand as well as Ari's yet everything was still intact and perfect. You brought your gaze back to him and he stared at you smugly. The priest then brought his wrinkled hands towards the rope and undid the knot that tied you with Ari. Yet your hands remained together. You clutched at his hand needing his support and strength to get you through this strange ceremony that was fogging your brain up.

"Their love can take any heat that comes their way. This has been shown. They are strong together. They will always remain united under each and every storm and will always embrace one another after each and every day. This love is pure and undying, this love is one we all wish for. Ari's very heart pumps blood purely for her and her blood runs only for him. Which is why they must exchange it. They must taste the very liquid which bonds them as soul mates, they must consume the liquid that has been in their hearts so that they can taste the heart of their lovers without causing harm."

Your confusion had grown even more. The priest stood aside and you saw a small table behind him and on it sat a chalice that was decorated in rubies and diamonds. It was gorgeous. You looked and saw a matching dagger. You looked up at Ari, and he smiled down at you adoringly. He led you to the small table and brought your hand to his lips where he placed a tender kiss. You watched enchanted by his grace and beauty as he picked up the gorgeous weapon. He laid your palm flat in his hand and then dragged the knife across your skin, harsh and fast. A hiss of pain left your lips as you watched the blood quickly rise out of the slice.

Ari grabbed your hand and squeezed your blood into the chalice. You watched as it dripped a fair amount into it, when you heard the sound of the blade running across Ari's skin. You stared as you watched him make his hand into a fist and squeeze the blood that was oozing out of his cut into the chalice. Your blood was mixing together and when the goblet was half way filled, Ari drew your hands away. He quickly wrapped your hand up in a bandage ensuring it was tight and didn't cover up your ring finger. He then did the same and led you back to your previous positions under the altar.

The priest then took the goblet and stood infront of you both holding it out. "Their blood is mixed, just like their hearts. Their fates intertwined. When the drink from this cup they shall be each others for eternity. Their love will never cease and they will forever belong to one another." He then presented the chalice to Ari. Ari released your hand and gently took the goblet and drank. Your heart fell into your stomach. You didn't want to drink blood. You didn't want to do this no matter how beautiful it was. This was sick.

Before you could even say no, Ari had placed the rim of the goblet against your lips and tipped the liquid down your throat. You tasted metal, and held back the gag in your throat and swallowed. When it was all gone, Ari pulled it away and gave the chalice back to the older man. You saw the blood on Ari's bottom lips and reached up to swipe it away. Ari smiled and then wiped the blood away from your plump, painted lips.

"Now the binding of the rings." A young girl dressed in a cute pink dress then walked up the aisle and presented you both with rings that was on a read pillow. Ari took a ring and placed it on your finger, he then nodded at you. You softly smiled at the girl and took the ring watching her quickly scamper away before you slide the ring on Ari's hand. You stared up at him pleadingly, begging for this strange ceremony to be over. He simply squared his shoulders and turned to face the man too.

"Now they have consumed their love, they have accepted each other. They will never leave one another out and will always worship one another as if they were God's themselves. This love will please the ones we worship and will bring us all peace. Wherever these two journey, love shall follow as they are soulmates. I now pronounce you man and wife. I present to you all, Mr and Mrs. Levinson. You may now kiss your bride."

You watched in slow motion as Ari brought his lips down to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed him back. You looped your arms around his neck and pretended that this wasn't some strange ceremony, but infact a loving wedding with a normal husband. You felt him pull away and stare down at you, looking at you as if you were the only thing truly holding him down to the world.

"I love you so much bunny. You did so good for me. I promise that I will make every day amazing for you. I will get you the moon and the sun. You are mine my love just as I am yours. I am your slave from now til the end of time." He placed his forehead against yours and smiled, you couldn't help but smile back, finally feeling the love you had cherished for him surround you. All your doubts vanished, yes you had an incredibly weird wedding but there was worse and it brought Ari so much closer to you.

You let out a squeal as he picked you up bridal style. He leaned down and kissed you once more. "Let's go Mrs. Levinson, it's time for me to join you in being barefoot too." He winked at you and your nerves fired up knowing that tonight was the night you were going to consummate your marriage. He strolled down the aisle holding you tightly before he put you in the passenger seat of his car. You placed your hand on your heart. Trying to slow it down. And closed your eyes, preparing for tonight.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levison x reader #dark ari levinson x reader #dark ari levinson #ari levinson #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x innocent!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x you #ari levinson au #ari levinson dark #ari levinson fic #ari levinson series

[nhasablogg]

Three times Alex denied being ticklish

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Anonymous said: Hi N! I loved your red white and royal blue fic! In that story you said, that Henry had to tickle Alex to pieces three times before he admitted to being ticklish. Would you be interested in writing about that as well?

Words: 800

1.

The revelation had happened on a day like any other, only Henry had marked it in his calendar and Alex had whined about it for days because of it. A Tuesday, semi-cloudy, event after event lining up throughout the day, and all Alex had wanted was to sneak in some fun between them if you catch his drift.

He’d wanted slow kisses and quick hands. Hushed voices and Henry tugging lightly at his hair while a coat hanger dug into Alex’s shoulder blade.

What he’d gotten instead was Henry digging his fingers into his sides again with a delighted laugh, because Alex’s stupid body had been too eager and too tired to pretend the gentle squeeze hadn’t tickled the first time, and so of course Henry needed to be an asshole about it and do it again.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he said, indignant and offended and whatever other emotion he managed to lace his voice with as Alex was too busy trying to shove him off.

“I’m not,” he said, knowing it was stupid to deny it, especially when Henry was just about to discover that his ribs were even worse as he climbed his hands upward, but he said it anyway.

“Are you sure about that?” Henry’s voice had a teasing lilt to it which made Alex want to both blush and tear his clothes off.

“Y-yes!” He tried to twist out of his grip, bumping into a broom or something which fell against the door. ��Henry, they’ll hear us- don’t!”

“I think they’ll understand when I tell them of the earth-shattering information I just discovered about the first son of the United States.”

“Henry!”

Henry stilled his fingers with a huff. “Fine. But your denial does not land with me.”

“Please shut up and just kiss me while you can, you idiot.”

2.

The second time was much more private, which meant that Henry had much more time to explore his discovery, much to Alex’s dismay. He pinned him on the bed, Alex thinking for a second that this was simply Henry being impatient, only to realize that his wandering hands were aiming to tickle rather than to touch.

“Hey, wait, don’t do tha-ah!”

“Why?” Henry paused just at Alex’s upper ribs. “You’re not ticklish, remember?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Have fun having a whole nation after you.” Henry curled his fingers, grinning when Alex jumped. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

“I see. So you won’t mind if I do that again then?”

Alex leaned his head back, begging the gods for strength. “Of course not.” “Oh, good, because now that I think about it, I have noticed you twitching a bit when I kiss your neck.”

Alex’s breath hitched. “Right.”

“So be a good boy and keep your head just as it is.”

Alex was not a good boy, but Henry was strong, Henry was stubborn, and Henry was much too good of a tickler for it to be fair.

It was a miracle no one came to rescue him, because Alex was certain his screams could be heard throughout the whole of the White House. He needed new guards for sure.

3.

The third time had Alex nervous, which Henry noticed and teased him about. “I wouldn’t be torturing you if you had just not kept this from me to begin with.”

“Sorry for not holding a press conference about being ticklish, your majesty.”

“So you admit it?”

“No.”

“Then I reckon I have no choice.”

Alex tried to make a run for it this time, leaping over the bed with Henry right at his heels, both laughing, both young and silly and in love, and when Henry managed to grab him and pull him down into a heap on the floor Alex wondered if this was how the rest of his life would be and found he didn’t mind it at all. Not even when Henry started tickling his knees.

…and one time he admitted it.

In the end, Henry didn’t have to coax out the confession.

It was late, both were breathing heavily, and Henry was running his fingertips over Alex’s stomach without any real intention of tickling him. Alex was half asleep and wasn’t feeling ticklish at all until he hit a particularly bad spot on his lower belly, which made his hand shoot out to try to stop him. “Tickles,” he mumbled and he heard Henry laugh, something hushed and lovely.

“Knew it,” he said, and Alex whined, unwilling to open his eyes to glare at him. “Is this your official confession?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his head away from him and sighing happily when lips found his temple. “Don’t be annoying about it.”

Henry huffed. “I would never.”

“Liar.”

“Not fun when someone denies the obvious, huh?”

“Shut up and go to sleep, your majesty.”

#tickling #ticklish!alex #red white and royal blue #firstprince fic #firstprince #n writes #three times alex denied being ticklish

[copperbadge]

I will admit that I backloaded NaClYoHo for today, in that I got today's task done ahead of schedule. It wasn't planned; I was actually in one of those ADHD Time Management Moments yesterday where I thought, "I'm getting a haircut at 4:30, so I can't start anything after 3pm, and won't be able to do anything productive from then until bedtime."

But my hair is short and the barbershop is four blocks away, so I was home again by 5. And there was a new episode of Behind The Bastards out, so I figured I could listen to that and at least assemble the laundry if not actually do it.

This was more of a task than usual because I was planning to gather up all the Cat Laundry that I probably don't wash often enough -- the blankets on the windowsills where they like to sleep, the lining of the copilot's basket on my work desk, their Sulk Gourds, etc.

(Polk HATES when I wash their blankets. She's furious that the Blankets Are Gone and then she's furious that the Blankets Don't Smell Right.)

Anyway, once I had put everything into one of the sections of the hamper, I looked at it and thought, do I have the energy for the laundry room? Sure, why not. Our laundry room has a phone app, which is great because you can tell exactly how many machines are free -- and sure enough, every washer was available. So I rolled my laundry cart down there and ran four loads of laundry simultaneously. I miss having in-unit laundry but it goes a LOT faster when you've got more than one machine. (Lest you think I'm an asshole the room has eight washers, so I wasn't bogarting the laundry.)

So now Polk is running around scenting up the blankets again, I have clean clothes through the end of November, the air-dry-only Sulk Gourds are hanging up to dry, and I'm taking today off.

[ID: Two covered cat beds made of soft felt, shaped somewhat like pyramids, are hanging by loops on top that are attached to a coat hanger, which is hooked over my shower curtain rod. The cats are going to be so mad at the clean-laundry smell!]

#naclyoho #national clean your home month

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 1

part 2, part 3, masterlist

- english is not my first language pleas exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.

- this case is made up

- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid

- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda

The doorbell rang. Layla fixed her robe and went to the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, as she was crying for a while now. A few days ago, the body of her fiance, James, was found. They covered most of him, she only saw his face to confirm it is him. She opened the door and looked to the right, and then to the left, but no one was there. Finally, she looked down and there she found a package. She picked it up and laid it on the desk next to her phone. The senders address on the package was one she didn't recognize, and her stomach ached in anxiety and fear. What if she's next?

She grabbed her coat from the hanger near the entrance, looking for a card In every single pocket, and when she finally found it she dialed the number on it with shaking hands. She paced in her living room as she was waiting for officer Williams. He told her to call if anything comes to mind, someone who'd seek vengeance on James, or if anything suspicious would happen.

A knock on the door. “Miss Garrison, it is Officer Williams” a vaguely familiar voice called from the other side of the door, and so she opened it. She shaked the officer's hand and allowed him to step inside. Layla was stressed before, but something about the officers demeanor made her even more anxious to open the package. “Do you want any… coffee, tea, or… just water, I have some cookies as well” Layla started rumbling, trying to be a good host as she was taught to be, even tho she is hosting under horrific terms. “Maybe some tea, yeah, I'll open the package while you do that” The officer said, sad smile on his face.

He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and put them on as Layle went to the kitchen. It felt so lonely in the apartment since James’s death, and she was somewhat happy to have company. She filled the kettle up with water to boil. Her eyes traveled between closets, trying to remember which one was the one with the tea cups, and where the hell did she put the tea itself. It was all a blur, James was the organized one. Eventually she found what she looked for and placed two mugs on the counter. She had two types of tea. “officer Williams, do you prefer green tea or berrys one?” she called out, and when the answer was bearly heard, she went to the living room.

“I'm so sorry, I can't hear-” she started, but her eyes stuck on the officers horrified face. “what is it?” she asked, “officer, what-” she said, coming closer. “stay back” he ordered, “I don't want you to see this. I called forensics, this is evidence”. “Officer, just tell me what this is” Layla said, panic setting in her voice. “Miss Garrison, when we found James's body… his heart was missing. I belive this is… it” the officer said..

….

“Reid, JJ, common, new case. hotch want us all in the conference room” (y\n) calls as they pass by their desks. The rest of the unit is already there when they arrive. “James Dekota, he was engaged to Layla Garrison until he found his unfortunate death. His heart was taken, and a few days later, shipped to Layla’s door” JJ explains as the relevant photos switch behind her. “Same thing happened with Fiona Nordwick who was engaged to Daniel Clark, and Sean williams who was engaged to Winona Rock” JJ continues. “Okay, so the unsub is targeting a half of an engaged couple, what makes him choose the one over the other?” Emily says, scrunching her eyebrows. “We find that out, and we have our unsub” Dave says. "wheels up in 30" Hotch says, nodding at the team.

…

"okay, so, taking the heart is… symbolic, but of what?" Prentiss wonderes out loud. "well, Joe smith took his victims hearts and kept them as trophies - but that's not the case here. this unsub is not keeping the hearts" JJ says, "and he is crossing gender and race lines - he kiiled males and females, and Sean williams was black". "his motive must be something about the victims personality than, something about their behavior made him attcack them" Dave says. "well, both the male victims worked in the insurance field" (y\n) says, "williams was an administrator for Nationwide and Dekota was a technichal analist for Omega, maybe this is what connects the victims". (y\n) knew it was along shot, considering Fiona Nordwick wasn't connected to the insurence field, she was a legal secretary. "(y\n) could have a point - we should ask Garcia to check, maybe Fiona Nordwick was a part of a case connected to the insurance field" Hotch says, pulling out his phone to text everyones favorite technical analyst. Reid was awfully quiet, thoughts running throgh his mind.

"whats on your mind, pretty boy?" Morgan asks. "Well, i just keep thinking…what if we are overthinking this, you know? trying to put a complicated meaning to this when it could just be literal, if the unsub attacks people for being engaged… what if taking the hearts is symbolic? hinting they have no heart?" he says, furring his eyebrows as he puts his thoughts into words. "this could be it" Prentiss says. "good thinking Dr. Reid" Hotch says. "we should try and check if any of the victims were being unfaithful" JJ says.

the tablet on the plane was ringing, and soon enough Garcia showed up on the screen. "well, my preeties, it appears that Fiona Nordwick was handeling a case regarding an insurence company not paying up, but i hightly doubt this is the connection, since it was a long time ago and she was in the begining of her carrer, even i had to dig deep to find this".

"well, if that not the connection, what is?" (y\n) said, slightly dissapointed her idea was proven wrong. they were new to the team and they wanted to prove themselves. They knew they'll get the chance, but just wondered when. "the unsub must find his victims somehow, maybe a wedding venue they all checked?" Morgan says, "baby girl, think you can find that out for me?". "oh you bet your fine ass that i can. talk to you later, my pretty crime fighters" Garcia says, and then hungs up.

#penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #emily prentiss

[kaywavy]

transforming soffits reorganizing keys formalizing immersion joints justifying kick extractors advising aggregates managing elbows recasting connectors achieving aluminum trowels officiating disks exhibiting absolute spigots progressing coil hydrants jerry-building reflectors informing casters inventing rubber hoists performing wrenches judging chalk adapters upgrading ignition paths

regrowing flashing recommending ratchets approving barriers sweeping impact fillers sewing mirrors detailing collectors enforcing measures distributing systems presenting plugs interwinding registers piloting ash diffusers gathering cranks supplying eave pockets undertaking scroll stops accelerating straps designing fittings protecting diamond boilers logging downspouts correlating shingles uniting mallets qualifying electrostatic lifts sharing clamps obtaining circular fluids ranking foundation gauges sensing miter brackets originating space networks translating drills regulating guards selecting gable padding utilizing pellet dowels reconciling artifacts altering pulleys shedding space filters determining vents representing mortar remaking flash rakers supporting funnels typecasting rotary chocks expressing junctures resetting auxiliary vises professing strip treads inlaying matter trowels questioning drivers forming edge fittings sketching blanks overshooting spark breakers rewriting controls playing tunnels inventorying buttons enduring joint handles effecting ratchet bibbs unwinding couplings forsaking vapor conduits defining sockets calculating heaters raising grids administering tiles measuring resources installing ignition remotes extracting corners manufacturing ventilators delegating consoles treating mounting stones enacting jig deflectors intensifying alleys improvising cargo pinpointing bobs prescribing arc masonry structuring metal chucks symbolizing lathes activating plumb kits adapting coatings fixing channels expediting cordage planning compressors enlisting hangers restructuring keyhole augers shearing ridge hardware collecting reciprocating bolts maintaining corrugated dimmers whetting hole collars conducting mandrels comparing assets compiling sealants completing paths composing equivocation wheels computing dampers conceiving electrostatic treatment ordering cotter grates organizing ties orienting ladders exceeding materials targeting thermocouples demonstrating emery stock expanding latch bases training wardrobe adhesives overcomming[sic] fasteners streamlining storm anchors navigating springs perfecting turnbuckles verifying gate pegs arbitrating arithmetic lifts negotiating outlets normalizing strips building surface foggers checking key torches knitting grinders mowing planers offsetting stencils acquiring bulbs adopting rivets observing avenues ascertaining coaxial grommets slinging wing winches instituting circuit generators instructing wicks integrating pry shutters interpreting immersion lumber clarifying coils classifying wood bits closing cogs cataloging matter strips charting holders conceptualizing push terminals stimulating supports overthrowing shaft spacers quick-freezing connectors unbinding ground hooks analyzing eyes anticipating gateways controlling proposition rollers converting power angles coordinating staples correcting benders counseling joist gaskets recording gutter pipes recruiting drains rehabilitating rafter tubes reinforcing washers reporting guard valves naming freize sprues nominating rings noting straps doubling nailers drafting circuit hoses dramatizing flanges splitting framing compounds refitting stems interweaving patch unions placing sillcocks sorting slot threads securing mode cutters diverting catharsis plates procuring load thresholds transferring syllogism twine directing switch nuts referring time spools diagnosing knobs discovering locks dispensing hinges displaying hasps resending arc binders retreading grooves retrofitting aesthetics portals seeking stocks shrinking wormholes assembling blocks assessing divers attaining lug boxes auditing nescience passages conserving strikes constructing braces contracting saw catches serving installation irons recognizing fluxes consolidating fuse calipers mapping shims reviewing chop groovers scheduling lag drives simplifying hoists engineering levels enhancing tack hollows establishing finishing blocks

[rom-e-o]

A Place Called Home - Constance/Ebenezer

A soft and sappy little oneshot! This fic takes place in a modern setting (it's a modern AU) although the only thing changed is Ebenezer's mansion changing into a flat. The rest is pretty timeless.

PG-13 for sexual innuendo, but nothing explicit.

Happy reading~

"Here we are," Ebenezer said with a smile, unlocking the door with a quick swipe of a keycard and holding it open for Constance. “Home sweet home.”

“Thank you.”

Her high heels clacked across the marble floor softly. She brushed against his body as she slinked through the doorway and out of the midwinter London chill of the Cornhill district.

She stepped inside, the warmth of the building's interior a welcome contrast to the cold outside. The lobby was spacious with marble floors and gold accents. After a nod to the desk attendant and a quick elevator ride, they arrived at the door to Ebenezer’s Lime Street flat.

She took a moment to glance around the spacious apartment, which immediately opened up into an almost intimidatingly large apartment. The grandeur of the building’s exterior continued inside the apartment, which featured the same intricate detailing featured in the outdoor architecture. Golden flourish, carved stone and intimate molding blended in beautiful harmony before her.

“W-Wow…” Constance gasped. She was so stunned by the stateliness of the spacious interior (something quite rare, even for the wealthiest of New Yorkers) that she barely registered him slipping behind her to help her remove her snow-dusted faux fur jacket.

“Here, let me,” he said. He helped her out of her coat, his fingers brushing against her arm in a gentle, almost intimate gesture.

"Thank you," she replied, her cheeks still flushed from the cold. "Again."

Her gaze was drawn to the expanse of the living room, the large windows offering a stunning view of the London skyline.

"Wow, I’ve always seen apartments like this when walking to work," she remarked, her eyes dancing across the room. “It’s just as spectacular on the inside.”

He gave her a disbelieving look as he hung her coat on a hanger in the hall closet. “Surely, you’re used to more impressive buildings than this. You lived in a brownstone on Fifth Avenue, did you not?”

“Well, yes,” she agreed sheepishly, “But the brownstone was two-stories, and my parent’s apartment in Manhattan wasn’t this high up either. Some of Orin’s coworkers hosted parties in their high-rises, but…”

“But?”

“They always felt like showrooms, or rooms in the Guggenheim,” she said. “They looked like office extensions, not homes. I much prefer yours.”

Scrooge smiled softly, clearly appreciative of her words. “I’m happy you think so. I’ll admit, I’ve just started to actually decorate. Up until a year ago, it was rather … bare. I’m by no means an interior decorator, but it is starting to feel more like a home.”

She nodded, taking a glance around the expansive common area. There was an open-concept kitchen to her left (located off to the right when coming in the front door) that featured multiple plants and a bowl of fruit. Closer to them, tucked in the back corner, was a crystal lamp that cast a glittering halo around a vintage piano that looked older than both of them.

“Oh, wow, she’s a beauty,” Constance remarked, advancing toward the piano for a closer look. It was a grand piano made of lacquered cherrywood with good accents. It looked like an instrument that belonged in a museum, or as a display item in Versailles.

“I inherited it from my former business partner,” he explained, his voice going a tad soft.

“Jacob, right?” Constance recalled, looking back. “Jacob Marley?”

Pleasantly surprised that she remembered the man’s name even though he had only spoken of him a few times, he nodded. “Yes. He’s also the reason I have this flat. It was a unit he’d previously owned, and instead of going through the hassle of putting it on the market when he decided to move, he gifted it to me. I was around…twenty-five, I think.”

“Was the piano here too?”

“It was. I could never sell it, no matter how much it was worth.”

“Did he play? Jacob, I mean.”

“Recreationally,” he said with a shrug. “Mostly at parties or events. He was quite good, though. The man could play Starry Night blindfolded.”

Quite talented, Constance thought with wide eyes. Whoever thought such an esteemed banker could moonlight as a musician with equal skill and poise?

“Do … you ever play it?” she asked softly. The woman couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t a speck of dusk upon the instrument, even upon the dark keys.

He gave a modest nod, a hint of pride in his smile. “A bit. I didn’t take lessons until my father sent me to boarding school, but I wasn’t very interested in the arts. I’m mostly self-taught, I’m afraid. Mostly in the classics. You can also thank Jacob for that.”

“Some of the best artists are self-taught,” she reminded him. “Especially the classical ones. Mozart taught himself multiple instruments in his youth.”

Ebenezer blinked and looked over to her in evident curiosity. “I didn’t know you liked Mozart.”

“Oh, I adore his works,” she admitted, fiddling with the golden choker about her neck. “You could throw a penny in New York and hit some theater or concert hall that was doing classical music performances. I’m sure the same is true in London as well. Anyway, my parents always took me to symphonies across Manhattan, and his music always ignited my imagination the easiest.”

He smiled at this, hands reaching down to grace some of the ivory keys. “Yes, it is. Perhaps we should go see a symphony together sometime. If you’d like, if course.”

The comment made her light up with excitement. “Oh, I’d love that!”

The palpable excitement in her voice sealed the deal. “So it shall be.”

He approached her at the window to gaze out over the view with her. He was just in time to watch the last rays of twilight vanish beneath the horizon, and moment later, night had woven its deep, inky tapestry over London.

The sparkling lights from the busy city reflected off a gentle flurry of snowfall, drifting toward the earth like a blanket of stars.

By contrast, Ebenezer's flat was filled with lamplight cast a warm and inviting glow, creating a haven of tranquility amid the bustling city.

Suddenly, the man was struck with an idea. Inviting Constance to keep looking at the view, he moved away and walked over to another opulent antique he had in his possession – a vintage record player that stood as an elegant sentinel in the corner of the room. With a sense of reverence, he selected a vinyl record from a well-tended collection. His fingers gently placed it on the turntable, and with care, he positioned the stylus.

Strains of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's "Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550" began to fill the room. The music, a masterpiece of classical elegance, flowed easily from the speakers.

Constance, who had been admiring the view of London through the panoramic windows, turned her gaze toward Ebenezer. Her eyes lit up with delight and appreciation at the familiar strains of Mozart. She felt her heart flutter with the enchantment of the moment.

Ebenezer extended his hand toward her, a warm smile gracing his lips. "May I have this dance?"

Her heart soared at his invitation. She accepted his hand, her fingers interlocking with his, and gracefully stepped before him. With the breathtaking panorama of London as their backdrop, they drew nearer to each other, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight and starlight.

They began to sway together, moved by the grace and elegance of Mozart's composition. Ebenezer's strong arms enfolded Constance, drawing her close as they moved in perfect harmony. They both knew the melody by heart, and it showed in how easily they match each other’s movements, as if they temporarily shared one mind and one heart to measure the beats. After a few spins, her head found a comfortable and inviting place on his shoulder.

Constance closed her eyes, relishing the moment, her heart overflowing with affection for the man holding her. Her fingers traced gentle shapes against the breadth of his shoulder, before eventually drifting down to tentatively rest over his heart. It drummed beneath his skin, the strong and virile as a stallion’s.

It was a secret thrill for her to be so close to him…the man who had suddenly appeared in the coffee shop and, like a whirlwind, changed her life. He's started as an elegant mystery, and now, she was becoming part of his mysterious, new, and very wonderful world.

Ebenezer cradled her with unwavering tenderness, his chin resting atop her head during the piece's second movement, "Andante."

By the time ended, neither of them wanted to part. At least, not far. They drifted away from each other slowly, but their eyes stayed trained on each other. Ocean waves kissed steely fog.

Shed always known he was handsome, but when they were this close, she got to appreciate the finer details of his face. The slopes on his shaven cheekbones, the way his eyes and silver hair were similar hues, the way his eyes crinkled more in the corners whenever his smile broadened.

She found herself attempting to inch closer, but her eight-inch heels stopped her from drifting further atop her tiptoes. With his lips out of, all she could do was allow her hands to drift from his shoulders, down his biceps (which she made sure to give a light squeeze) before resting on his elbow.

Inspired by her caresses, one of his large hands drifted upward to her face. His thumb ghosted along her bottom lip, fingers curling slightly under her chin, urging it up. She obeyed, inhaling slowly and softly. Another inch closer, and the tips of her breasts pressed to his front.

She was testing the waters. Would he reciprocate? Or, was she being too bold? It had been so long since she dated … she didn’t know ‘norms’. All she knew was that liked him … she trusted him.

He leaned in again, and when he dipped his head and kissed her brow, she felt a rush of endorphins nearly take her breath away.

Heavens, how could a chaste forehead kiss feel so wonderful?

She continued to ponder the question even as he pulled away to stare at her dreamily. He enjoyed the sight and feeling of her in his arms again, before noticing that they were still standing. That is, since their arrival, he hadn’t offered her a seat. It was a lapse in gentlemanly protocol. Goodness, she’d certainly distracted him, in more ways that one.

"Would … would you like a glass of wine?" Ebenezer asked, his attention turning towards the small bar cart near the piano.

“Oh,” she chirped, a little thrown by the sudden change in topic, but no less pleased. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love one, if you don’t mind.”

“Excellent. Red or white?”

“Red, please.”

He chuckled, having already reached for a rich merlot that he knew was her favorite. He’d bought it in preparation for her visiting his flat for the first time. He wasn’t a recreational drinker, aside from the occasional swig of scotch after a grueling day. With her (and really her only, he was slowly realizing), he found he enjoyed the process of savoring wine.

After popping the cork with a waiter’s corkscrew, he filled a crystal glass that Constance immediately recognized as a Riedel piece.

When they each had a glass, he held his glass aloft.

“A toast?” she asked teasingly. “I thought you didn’t like them.”

"A night as wonderful as this one deserves one," Ebenezer said, his eyes locked on hers as they clinked their glasses together. “To tonight, and the lovely company I am very privileged to enjoy it with.”

Constance's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze, her stomach fluttering as they clinked their glasses.

As they sipped their wine, any remaining hesitation melting away and being replaced by a comfortable ease.

After a few more sips, Ebenezer turned towards the fireplace, his eyes lingering on the empty hearth. "I think a fire would be perfect on a night like this."

He set down his glass and moved to gather wood and kindling, his movements fluid and practiced. Soon, the flames crackled to life, casting a warm glow that filled the room with a cozy ambiance.

He then back-stepped to the nearby L-shaped sofa, which faced the impressive fireplace. The structure was nestled betwixt two of the panoramic windows.

"Come, sit," he invited, patting the space next to him on the plush couch.

Constance joined him eagerly, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across her features. As they sat side by side, the warmth of the fire seeped into their bones.

The crackling of the fire was a soothing backdrop to the comfortable silence. Taking another sip, she glanced at Ebenezer, his profile softened by the warm light.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"This is perfect," she murmured, her voice a soft caress.

He turned towards her, his gaze holding a warmth that mirrored the fire. "I'm glad you think so."

The crackling of the fire continued its soft serenade as they sat and drank side by side on the plush couch. With each passing moment, an invisible thread tugged at their hearts with a gentle insistence.

Constance felt a mixture of anticipation and warmth swirling within her as she met Ebenezer's gaze, eyes twinkling mischievously over the rim of her wine glass. In return, his eyes held a soft intensity, a reflection of the emotions that simmered beneath the surface.

Even the room held its breath, as if it too sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

Glass empty, Constance leaned forward to place it on the table, the taste of wine succulent and numbing upon her lips.

Ebenezer followed, asking if she’d like more.

“No, thank you,” she said, her voice suddenly becoming bashful. “I’d like to keep my wits about me…”

Sapphire eyes darted to his. “Especially tonight.”

Something in Ebenezer’s gaze shifted. His face seemed to lighten and darken all in one move.

Surrendering his glass as well, he leaned back on the sofa and extended an arm to her. One of his large hands covered her shoulder easily. A moan fluttered in her throat at the heat that arced between them.

Finally, he leaned in.

Ebenezer’s movements were unhurried and deliberate, and his lips brushed against hers in a whisper of a kiss. The touch was soft, a mere whisper of connection, but it sent a shiver down Constance's spine all the same. It was a promise of more, a silent invitation to explore the unspoken depths of their growing bond.

Pulling back slightly, Ebenezer's voice was a gentle murmur, words laced with a sense of reverence. "May I?"

Constance's heart fluttered in response, her eyes locking onto his with a mixture of eagerness and desire. She pivoted her body to face his, the action a silent affirmation. "Yes."

In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the soft glow of the firelight and the sensation of his lips against hers. Their kiss deepened, a fusion of emotions intensified with every brush of their lips.

His arms were quick to encircle her after that, drawing her closer as he sank deeper into the kiss. She responded with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in his hair as if to anchor herself to the moment. A particularly bold swipe of his tongue caused her to gasp and fist his hair in her hands. To her surprise, a heady growl rewarded her. Well, she’d certainly make a mental note of that.

Time seemed to suspend as they lost themselves in the embrace of the kiss, the boundaries between them blurring more and more. Sounds and sights feel away, leaving only the feels and sensations of each other’s bodies and mouths.

When they finally parted, their breaths mingling in the air, their eyes met once again. Constance's cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and the firelight danced in her eyes.

"Gods…" Ebenezer breathed, his voice a mixture of wonder and reverence. “Y-You’re brilliant.”

Her smile was soft, a reflection of the tenderness she felt aching in her chest.

“Brilliant enough to…kiss me again?” she asked, unabashedly hopeful.

The man laughed, the sound of his mirth more joyful than she’d ever heard before.

With an arm slinging about her waist, he tipped her back onto the sofa. Following her down, he spared no time in granting her wish.

“If you’ll grant me the privilege,” he said, “The honor.”

With a triumphant squeal, she took great pleasure in bestowing the privilege upon him.

Once. Twice.

Again.

And again.

Thank you for making it to the end~

And thank you supporters and commenters!

@crimson-phantom-designs @quill-pen @beascrooge @purgratoriat @ray-painter

#scrooge 2022 #modern au #scroogeverse #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

[illusionsdelusions101]

I love you.~ Alejandro Garnacho

Word Count~ 1,027 Type~ Angst, fluff?   Being the ex of Alejandro Garnacho sure gets you stopped in the streets, I mean, two famous people, abruptly breaking up during their relationship without any further explanation to the public? It perks peoples' interests. Getting stopped for interviews and people shoving microphones in your face? Not fun.    You arrive home, your apartments warmth envelops you. You hang up your coat on the hanger, kick off your shoes and walk to the living room. A small journal lays on the coffee table, labelled "My Dear." You pick it up, along with a pen and you open the journal. You, a model for a huge clothing company, and Alejandro, one of Manchester United's youngest players, it wouldn't have been a shock if you met in a bar. Him, celebrating a victory and you, just getting an amazing new contract for another company that you signed in a heartbeat.     Subtle flirting from across the bar, sending drinks over, notes that you slip to him on your way to the bathroom and him slipping you one back once you exited. By the end of the night, you were getting your purse and coat, just about to leave when the blonde-haired soccer player stopped you.     "Hey. Can I have your number?" His strong Argentinean accent makes it sound like soothing music to your ears. You agree, without hesitation and there was the start of your relationship.     After that night, dates to a cafe, beach, arcade, pretty much anything, it was perfect. You've never felt happier. And he felt the same. He would admire you when you weren't looking. Anything about you. Your kind personality, your beautiful face, everything. He got so lucky, he couldn't express it towards you, his love. That was eventually the downfall of your relationship.    "Do you not love me!?" you cried. Tears streaming down your face, throwing a pillow on the other side of the room. "Do you, Ale!? You take me on the extraordinary dates! You take me everywhere! And yet you can't even tell me you love me!? " You screamed. Late after a date, you had a realization feeling. After 6 months of dating, he’s never told you those three words.  

“Y/N, listen to me! Pl-” He tried to reason with you. He wasn’t ready, he’d never been in such a loving relationship. He thought he did everything right! But no matter how much he wanted to say those words, it would feel ripped out of him. Torn. And it wouldn’t be fair to you if they weren’t true. 

“I can’t! I just can’t! Garnacho. Tell me you love me or leave this place. And never come back.” The tears were dropping one by one onto the t-shirt he gave you. His t-shirt. Smelled like his cologne and everything. But to you, in this moment, was the most disgusting smell in the world. You stand behind the couch, while he stands all the way across the coffee table. The apartment falls into a deep silence. The only thing to break it was your deep sob.  

“Out.”  

Amid your relationship, you created a journal, writing everything about you and Alejandro, but after you broke up, the journal had been sitting on your coffee table, untouched.  A week ago, you had realised your mistake. You let go the one person who made you the happiest. You picked up the journal on that realization, only when to open it, you found the pressed rose from your first date.  

“Here you go, my dear.” It was a warm day in Manchester, you and Garnacho agreed to meet in front of the Old Trafford Stadium, both of you wearing hats to escape the paparazzi and fan girls. “Well thank you!” You take the rose carefully, keeping it close to you, cheeks flushed a pink shade. You followed Garnacho to wherever he went. He brought you to a small lake with a couple of ducks. You had a great first date, feeding the ducks with the bread that he brought, throwing the bread at each other and then sharing an intimate kiss.  

You carefully remove the rose and start writing about how you messed up in the journal, all the things you want to tell him, but you weren’t ready. Just as he wasn’t to say I love you. You fill up a whole two pages. Saying how you were building up your courage and how you were going to tell the man you so suddenly let go, that it’s okay. You were scared, of course. He might have found someone new, might laugh at you or something. Shaking the bad thoughts from your head, you change and go to bed. The alarm clock on your bedside table reading, 00:00. 

Garnacho, on the other hand was in the middle of a party, some girl trying to chat him up. He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed you. Too much. The words “I love you” have never wanted to be said more to you. Garnacho shoved through the bodies of people, he finally ended up at the front door of the bar, he opened the door and practically ran to his car. He shoved the keys into the hole and turned them. The car came alive, and he sped off. He gripped the steering wheel. He knew your address so there was no problem there. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins. What would he even say? “I’m sorry. I miss you and I was a terrible boyfriend.” Something like that? Who knows? Who cares? He needed to see you. Badly. He saw your apartment complex approaching. He parked quickly and rushed to the door. He knew the code for the front of the building. He punched it in and swung the door open. You were everywhere in his mind. All he thought. He should’ve fought for you. He never felt more hollow after he left your apartment the night you guys broke up. He rushed up the stairs and in no time, he reached your door. He knocked. You were probably asleep, as the time read 1:00. But to his surprised, the door opened gently. 

Pt.2?

#alejandro garnacho #manchester united #man utd #x reader #oneshot #angst #fluff? #soccer #football #premier league #man united

[dangerously-human]

I have had an extremely stressful day, actually, and I know these are small things in the grand scheme of the world and all, but I lost my phone for a couple hours this afternoon and lost my mind trying to search for it and cleaning and rearranging most of my dang house top to bottom (shoutout to the babes for calling it repeatedly till I found it wedged under a chair cushion I didn't even know had enough give to move), and also I have been fighting a losing battle for the past two days with rain coming in through one of my air conditioners, and I just now realized it's been seeping through the floor and dripping into my kitchen. Which means I'm going to have to contact the landlord in the morning, because that's water damage, babey, and I'm freaking out because clearly I should have just removed the window unit sooner, but that didn't occur to me until this second, instead I've been trying to shove everything I can find into every crack around the thing and periodically sop up puddles. I'm an idiot. I also somehow broke the toilet handle days ago, which isn't that big of a deal because I can just stick a coat hanger in the tank and manually tip the mechanism, but I was so determined to fix that myself and now it turns out I wasn't able to, so I have to ask the landlord for help with that, too. I try so, so hard to be a low-maintenance tenant and I am failing badly at that currently and I have a stress migraine that was just starting to get under control and is now coming back with a vengeance and I've done enough petty crying for today, I just want to eat dinner in peace, why does tonight have to go this way?!

#personal

[killed-by-choice]

Jammie “Sarah” Garcia Yanez-Villegas, 15 (USA 1992)

Jammie Garcia, identified in some news sources as Jammie Garcia Yanez-Villegas, was a 15-year-old girl who was living with her common law husband, a man who had already had one baby with young Jammie. When Jammie became pregnant again, she was brought to the A to Z abortion facility in Houston in 1994. Jammie, or “Sarah” as she would be known later, would suffer a horrible fate.

Abortionist John Coleman killed Jammie’s unborn baby on February 18, 1994. Only four days later, on February 23, Jammie was in the Intensive Care Unit of a Houston hospital, with spiking fever, chills, nausea, pain, respiratory distress, a distended abdomen, low blood oxygen levels, and foul-smelling discharge. An examination revealed inflammation and a tear in her cervix that was oozing pus. The teenager’s condition deteriorated, and she died in the ICU on March 2.

An autopsy done on her body showed the extent of the damage that the young girl had suffered. Jammie’s body was wracked with abscesses, spreading infection that had entered her body through the damage the abortion had done to her uterus. Her brain, liver and lungs were severely swollen. Her liver and lungs weighed twice what they should have from the inflammation.

Jammie’s painful death brought a response. An inspection was conducted of the “safe and legal” abortion facility that killed her.

What the inspection uncovered was disgusting. The staff were not adequately trained in how to properly sterilize instruments. The administrator, Kristen Hing Fehr, was aware of the fact that the autoclave used to sterilize instruments was not functioning properly. As for the instruments themselves, “two loop forceps, two tenaculums and one curette were found to have small particles of dried brownish-dark red material on them. Three speculums were found to have small particles of dried clear material on them.” “The only sterilized abortion tray in the procedure room was found to contain a curette with a loop whose edge was visibly jagged instead of smooth.” (Source: Travis County District Court Cause No. 94-07517)

The abortionist who killed Jammie was John Coleman, who did not sterilize or replace the filthy surgical tools. Coleman, who suffered from emphysema, died only three days after Jammie. The facility’s employees reported being unsure about Coleman's ability to operate given the fact that he was dying and that his hands constantly shook.

No “back alley abortion” with a rusty coat hanger could have possibly done more damage to Jammie and her baby than the fully legal abortion that left her body ravaged by raging infections.

Jammie’s parents were not notified or asked for permission before the abortion that killed their teenage daughter. Parental consent laws could have saved her. A law known as “Sarah’s Law” to protect her identity was proposed to require parental consent for underage abortion clients.

But abortion advocates released Jammie’s personal information soon after, claiming that Sarah’s Law wouldn’t have saved her and that Pro-Lifers had intentionally misrepresented her case. They demanded that Sarah’s Law should not be instated and that the background information on “Sarah” be censored.

Finally, Sacramento Superior Court Judge Michael P. Kenny ruled that the information about Sarah could stay on the ballot. The information on the ballot talks about Jammie’s death and reads: "Sarah was only 15 when she had a secret abortion. Had someone in her family known about the abortion, Sarah’s life could have been saved."

During the hearing, attorney Beth Porter, who represented Planned Parenthood, the abortion business challenging the law, identified Sarah as 15-year-old Jammie Garcia Yanez-Villegas who was living with her common law husband at the time of the abortion. Porter claimed that as a result, she would not have qualified for the parental notification law in California if it were in place at the time.

Meanwhile, Catherine Short said Jamie never told the abortion facility she was in a common law marriage before the abortion and the abortion facility never asked. The teenager would have qualified for the law because California law has different common law marriage statutes than Texas. Not all states would have legally recognized the common law marriage between a grown man and a 15-year-old girl. "Had someone in her family known, Sarah’s life could have been saved," Short said.

Previously, a representative of the group backing the parental notification measure said it doesn’t matter if Sarah was married or not at the time of her death because teenage girls lack the capacity to make major health decisions on their own and should have parental involvement to learn about the risks and alternatives.

"She was still 15 and was not equipped to make medical decisions on her own, whether she was living with the father of her child or not," the representative said. Physicians in Jammie’s case stated that, had an adult family member been aware that she had undergone an abortion, her life likely could have been spared.

Jammie did not have to die. Neither did her baby. The least we can do is protect more children from suffering the same gruesome fate.

Travis County District Court Cause No. 94-07517

The Daily Spectrum February 16 1999

The Journal News, Sunday, January 31, 1999 2A

Firemont Tribune 15 February 1999 (see above)

The Spokesman—Review 12 February 1999

Sacramento Bee September 28

Sacramento Bee

#tw murder #tw death #tw ab*rtion #tw abortion #tw child marriage #pro life #pro choice #abortion #abortion debate #unsafe yet legal #Sarah’s Law

[satoru-is-the-way]

FANFICTION

SPOILERS FOR DOCTOR STRANGE AND THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS!!!!

…

 …

…

…

SINCE NO ONE ELSE HAS...

¡John Krasinski!

Reed Richards x Reader 

The One Exception

part 1

(Mentions of Stephen Strange x Reader)

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: REED RICHARDS LIKE THIS MAN HOT, Arguing, Violence, Blood, Death, and the reader being overpowered (lol) SMUT IN PART 2 EHEHHEHEEH. SO YA SAFE FOR PART 1 Me being lazy and not going to spell check rn. I will soon LMAO

𝑨/𝒏: Hello everyone! I am so sorry my Moon Knight people. I have been so busy with my Doctor Strange needs I simply had no motivation until late. After MOM though I will be doing many doctor strange fics and mainly focus on him, plus the characters in the movie. EVENTS WILL BE CHANGED/Out of order for plot sake.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You are one of the original members of the Illuminati. For many years Reed Richards had been in love with you despite Stephen Strange owning your heart. Years after Stephen's death you finally have been moving on. However, this new 616 variant catches your attention and Reed does not like that.

(Gif by me 💅)

Most the gifts have my @ marvelsimp tiktok logo except like a few I did post a mini gift set.

(Y/n) (L/n) walked into Reed's lab, being somewhat of a scientist herself, but preferably his assistant during free time. However, not much freedom for extra activities is given to members of the Illuminati. (Y/n) felt like that was a long and complicated story. Which it really wasn't. It started many years ago when her previous lover, Doctor Stephen Strange, had developed an idea of heroes uniting so that when the earth, or universe, needed them they would be there. It consisted of herself, the Phoenix, Charles Xavior, Captain Peggy Carter, Mordo Sorcerer Supreme, Captain Marvel, and Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four. She had fought battles alongside each member but never as a collective group. They functioned accordingly and fairly. Earth has been saved countless times against powerful enemies, such as Thanos...A topic (Y/n) avoids.

For the last couple of months, the unofficial couple, Reed and (Y/n), have become close. More time was spent together on short missions and in his lab. They each came out of long-term relationships. Reed and Sue were the ideal couples. Always by each other's side. Worked in sync like Stephen and (Y/n) once had.  Yet inside Reed never could fully commit having romantic feelings for (Y/n). After Stephen's death, she became secluded from everyone except Reed. 

"Mr.Fantastic, odd seeing you here " She called. "How is my favorite scientist?" 

Reed looked up from his microscope green eyes flickering with excitement seeing (Y/n). He stood up 6'3" frame towering over everyone. "I am doing quite well! Here to assist me once more? With all this time you spend with me people may talk." Reed comments walking over to his desk and sitting the sample disks down. He never was afraid to say what is on his mind. The smartest man in this universe had confidence in himself and his mind. 

(Y/n) chuckled taking a white lab coat off the hanger. "Let them I have nothing to hide. Unless you are ashamed. Plus with your crazy ex-" 

"Oh come on. Sue is not crazy may be a regrettable choice to date a teammate. But not crazy. Coworkers should not date- in a way." Reed sighed knowing they both had romantic entanglements with fellow heroes and colleagues. Neither ended well for both parties. 

"Tell me about it. The last boyfriend I had kinda was murdered." 

"It wasn't murder he knew the consequences." 

"He was trying to save the universe Doctor Richards!" (Y/n) argued back. 

"So it's Doctor Richards now?! We voted on this. The tally was in and we had to do what is necessary." 

"What? To play God? To act like we are better than everyone else! You betrayed your friend. We all did! Like your friendship meant nothing." 

"I was the ONLY one who sides with you (Y/n). Shouldn't that mean something? Why don't you go yell at the others about your dead fiancee's problems." Reed sighed his good day ruined. 

"Whatever. You are always the same Reed. You care only about yourself." She threw her lab coat down and walked off. 

Reed slowly sat down on his chair. Looking at the papers in front of him. He felt pressure on his chest. Did he just ruin his chances with (Y/n)? "Fuck." Reed said shoving everyone off his desk in anger 

°(later that day) °

They had been called together by Mordo in an urgent message about a variant from earth 616 landing on their world. With time to spare before their meeting (Y/n) walked into Christine Palmer's lab to see who the visitor from 616 is. She froze to looking at Stephen Strange- except this one had a goatee. His ocean blue orbs meet her (e/c) spheres. 

"...(Y/n)?" He whispered walking to the glass. The last time this 616 Stephen saw his (Y/n) she had been knocked through a portal with him.

"Not...your (Y/n)...You are from 616...Are we- a couple on your earth?" She asked gently. So many properties occurred after her Stephen died. To see if in other realities if they were together or who dies first before things could take flight. However, the question seemed idiotic seeing the shining ring on his finger. 

"2 years now. Married for 1. Here?" He asked looking this (Y/n) over. She backed up and quickly escaped tears streaming down her face. Maybe she needed to sit this one out. 7 long years after her Stephen was taken. It took nearly 5 to look at other men. Reed had been that one exception. Perhaps that is what bothered her. To be in love with Reed Richards. Because 7 years is short right? She felt conflicted about exactly her intentions with pursuing Reed is. 

Not long passed as this Stephen stood in front of the Illuminati. Facing judgment, once again, the punishment would be death. The moment replayed in their heads as Charles showed what happened to their Doctor Strange. 

"There had to be another way- we can't - please...please dont do this." (Y/N) begged them. Stephen sat on his knees fingertips black from using the dark hold's magic. It was a selfish want not caring about the other universes he destroyed. All she wanted is him. 

"This is hard on everyone (Y/n)," Reed comments touching her shoulder but she shoved him back. 

"We can leave if you want. I and Captain Marvel can-" 

"Shut up Peggy!" 

"Please, my love calm down," Stephen whispered (Y/n) slowly walked toward him. "I know what must be done. It's how we keep order...I love you (Y/n) Strange. You are my one and only. I love you...I love you in every universe." He cupped her cheeks giving her a gentle kiss goodbye. "I'll always be by your side. In your heart. You own my love...I wish this didn't have to be so hard. I did it for you. Damn everyone else. In this world and in every universe you are the only person that matters to me."

"Stephen, I won't be able to love again. We can leave and find another universe." She whispered looking into his blue diamond eyes. "We can run-" 

"I have decided. I chose this fate because it's the only one where you live." He admits. "I will love you forever...I'm sorry my gem." With a passionate kiss that was when the memory ended for you. Stephen had sent you through a portal landing in the sanctum, alone, and without him. 

(Y/n) took a shaken breath looking at 616 Stephen. He felt pity on you. "They killed you. I won't be here to watch it again." She stood looking at him one last time before walking off. Before she even could make it out the door the alarms went off, every Ultron bot scurrying into. Instantly fire covers her body burning her clothes away and leaving the signature green and gold costume colors with the Phoenix emblem in black across her chest (basically Jean Grays' costume from the comics lol). Emily ran into the lab. Christine looked at her panicked. "Wanda is here to take Chavez. They went to stop her." She adds pointing to the direction where Captain Marvel had blasted Wanda to. (Y/n) nods and flew off landing just in time to stop Wanda. She had began to lift Reed into the air. "WANDA!" (Y/n) yelled and with a ball if energy hit the Scarlet Witch back into several walls. 

"Reed are you ok?" She asked pulling him close. He nods cupping her face after being moments away from death. 

"Bolt, Peggy, Charles...she killed them." He whispers. 

(Y/n) felt a pain shoot in her body, no...all her friends. The people she cared for. The Professor was like a father to her. Her eyes began to glow losing control of her powers. "This isn't our Wanda. 616 is dream walking remember that." He said. 

"I don't care. She killed my friends and almost you. Plus she is after the girl and 616 Stephen." 

The fight between a Phenoix and Choatic witch could not he decided who might win. Two forced equally balanced in strength. But mentally Wanda could overpower (Y/n)

"You know I could find a universe where you died." She comments getting up spitting blood out if her mouth. "I could even make you...a little hex of you own. A never ending life with Stephen and kids even." Wanda adds her devils temptation. "Or maybe add Reed...You would like that right?" She asked one step at a time walking closer. "To be with you lover again. Spend the life every variation of yourself has...but you. The unlucky one." (Y/n) was in a trance getting offered an apple from the devil herself. One simple bite and it call could be hers. 

A voice yelled her, called to her, Reed...Suddenly back to reality she narrowed her eyes. "I think I'm good." (Y/n) blasts Wanda away one more not knowing where. She falls to the ground Reed quickly by her side. Having someone in your head is never pleasant. (Y/n) groaned having a pounding headache. "Did...We win?" 

Reed sighed, "No. I have no idea...what is going to happen next. Wanda...is powerful. Dangerous. The alarms had stopped perhaps they left." (Y/n) rests her head against Reed's chest. He picks her up taking her to the medical bay. She remembers looking up studying his features. Fluffy brown hair with hints if white on the side, perfectly trimmed beard, plump lips and gorgeous green eyes…

Three days she had been in bed. Resting unable to do much of anything but sleep. A loopy and incoherent time blurry dreams and reality mixed into one. The chaos wielding witch sure did a number in the Phoenix who held back her own strength. 

"Morning." Reed said looking her over. Each day Reed came by or simply slept in the very uncomfortable chair. "Feeling better?" He asked checking your monitors. 

"Yeah I feel...more aware of my surroundings." (Y/n) sat up looking to Reed. He smiled unable to remove his eyes from the angel in front of him. 

"I love you." He blurts out catching (Y/n) off guard. "I mean. I have been in love with you  since the battle in New York." He confessed sighing deeply. "I knew Stephen had your heart. For 6 long years I watched you and him. Hell I even got with Sue in hopes to forget about you. No matter what I did I only thought about you! I sides with you because even if I couldn't have you I wanted you to be happy. To know in every universe you two end up together...It was my burden no matter what to always lose you." 

(Y/n) looked at him before pulling the man into a kiss. She whispered feeling his soft lips around hers. A gentle but passionate need stirred in her stomach. Her gentle hands tangle in his mess if brown locks. "I want you…" She whispers 

To Be continue. 

#Reed Richards x Reader #Reed Richards #John krasinski #John Krasinski Reed Richards #Mister Fantastic

[roberrtphilip]

hey man what are the philips dressing up as for halloween this year 👀

(bonus points if you tell me about their First halloween together !!!)

ah man, with Giselle around they have the Best costumes, like I just know she goes all out with everyone's clothes. Their first Halloween, Robert said they could just go out and buy something and she was so offended.

I feel like Sofia always wants to be something random/odd, something that even if they wanted to buy it, they might not be able to find it. Like, one year she wanted to be Adam Flayman from Bee Movie. Why? Who knows, she just likes that silly bee, and Giselle is certainly not going to deny her baby anything. This year she was torn on whether or not she wanted to be an onion or a coat hanger, but went with the onion, which works out well bc it means Giselle can force Robert to be Shrek while she gets to be Fiona.

As for their first Halloween, I love the idea of them being Ariel, Eric, and Melody from the Little Mermaid. Robert really didn't want to dress up and was going to just leave the fun to Giselle and Morgan, but they were having absolutely none of that and he got lucky bc Eric's costume is pretty basic. After that, I feel like they'd usually all match in some way, with Morgan maybe straying a few times, but Giselle and Robert always matched.

When Morgan eventually deemed herself "too old" for dressing up, Giselle would make sure everyone in the apartment building knew they could come to their unit for candy, so they'd have a few trick or treaters stop by, and she always enjoyed that.

Now that they have a house, Giselle goes crazy with decorating, and leaves a bunch of candy out for kids while they leave with Sofia. Everyone in Monroeville knows the Philip house is the house to go for the best candy (and does this make Malvina mad? a little bit, but she tries not to be jealous). If/when Sofia decides she's too old for trick or treating, Giselle and Robert know they'll continue to dress up and pass out candy.

#my beloveds <3 #i never talk much about my older sofia headcanons but let it be known she has silly girl swag like her mother #lumiereandcogsworth #ask #enchanted #hc #certified enchanted moment™️

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 1: Charlottesville

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of Top Gun: Baby, a love story following Bradley Bradshaw and Allie Campbell. We all know that the first chapter of any story can be a bit of a dud…Please hang in there! There was so much important background information that I had to include. I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Angst from a hard childhood, mentions of cancer, mentions of death, mentions of a funeral

POSTED: 05/08/2023

Chapter One: Charlottesville       

BRADLEY’S POV

      One bag. That’s all I had to bring. It’s not like that was all we could bring. We were allotted up to 90 pounds of clothes that we could bring, but that was it. 90 pounds of clothing items that get you through the spring, summer, winter, and fall. You could bring whatever you wanted to wear. However, you could only wear your personal clothing items on the weekends when you were allowed to leave base. And even then, we weren’t allowed to leave until the end of summer camp. From this afternoon until August 20th, I would be stuck in the confines and ownership of the United States Naval Academy.

      I managed to fit everything I owned into one duffle bag. Everything that I was okay with losing stayed hung in my closet or spread out on my counter. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give the auctioneers a thrill of excitement when they foreclose on the house. My house. All I have known since I was a baby. 14541 West Maple Drive was the heart of my identity in Charlottesville Virginia. Even when I went to UVA, I lived at home. I never once spent a night inside a dorm and I never once let a girl spend the night here. This was my safe space. My sanctuary. A place where I got to dictate who could come in and who was locked out, and there was one person who has remained locked out for the past four years.

      I took in one deep breath as I gazed around my bedroom one last time. The transformations that this room has been in made it seem almost foreign.I thought about everything that it has changed to throughout my life. It started as a blue room, with white furniture that consisted of a crib, a changing table, and a single dresser. Painted at the top of my light blue walls were clouds. Clouds that served as a reminder that my dad was always there with me when he would go on missions. Hanging over my crib was a mobile that had red planes hanging from its center. My mom told me that I would become mesmerized by their slight rotation, and on my fussiest of days, it was the only thing that could calm me down.

      Until the death of my father, my room stayed this way, with the crib being the only change once I upgraded to a starter-bed when I was a toddler. My mom couldn’t bring herself to go inside my room anymore, so one day Pete came in with a group of guys and painted it red. All of my white furniture was replaced with a dark-chocolate colored set. Gray sheets and curtains covered their respectable areas until I was in high school. That’s when I convinced my mom to let me paint my walls white. She gave me permission under the promise that I would not paint a single outline of a cloud.

      Pete and I painted every wall with multiple coats until all of the red was cleared. He then snuck me into my closet and painted a single black outlined cloud right above where my hangers were set. It was our secret. I never told my mom. To this day, it was the only thing I kept from her. Every day, as I was getting ready for school, I would steal a glance at the cloud, knocking on it twice every morning before I headed to the kitchen. It seems silly, but it was a part of my daily routine. A way to include my father in my daily life. I reached my hand out and knocked twice on the outlined cloud, letting out a slight sigh and feeling my eyes burn from the salt that was glistening over them. I am sure the new homeowners would paint over that little cloud. My father.

      This glance, this last glance, would serve as my final memory of my white walled, deep browned furniture, blue blanketed room. I turned my body and took one more glance at the framed picture of me and my mom. It was our last set of professional pictures that we had taken before she found out she was sick. I was a freshman in high school, with a smile that was fresh out of braces, my hair was a little curlier than it was now, and way fuller. But the deep ember color of my hair remained the same. The blonde began to deepen when I went through puberty, as well as my voice, and well…other things.

      I looked over at the framed picture that was next to me and my mom’s. It was a picture of me and him, taken after my last baseball game in high school where we won the State Tournament. Both of us looked so happy, me in my green and yellow jersey and him in his brown leather jacket, sporting all of the patches he has earned throughout his career. I was so naive to what he was doing behind the scenes. Behind his smile was the secret of a man who had just pulled my Naval Academy application.

      I stared at the picture and could feel my face starting to burn red with anger. I reached over and gripped the frame in my hand, turning the photo face down on the dresser. I was sure he would come in here one more time before the government seized the house. I was sure he would take one more sweep around the whole surface and take a few more items of memorabilia. He would come in here and see this photo laying on its back and know. He would know I still hated him, hated him for what he had done, hated him for holding me back.

      Before I knew it, I was speeding out of the house and heading to the cab that waited for me, taking no liberty in locking the door. Nothing I wanted was there anymore. I had everything I needed in my bag; a few hawaiian shirts, some jeans, socks, underwear, and my parents' wedding rings. The only physical thing I have left of them. The only thing I wanted. I know he keeps a considerable amount of their things in storage, knowing that one day I may want to look at them, but for now, I was content with carrying the gold bands that bonded them together for life. They were tucked away in a small leather box that once held my mom’s engagement ring. The silver band and square cut diamond that was currently rested on her finger, six feet below ground.

      I quickly shuffled into the back seat of the cab and directed him to take me to the Greyhound: Bus Stop, with my bus ticket tucked safely in the front zipper of my tan duffle bag. I forced myself not to look back at my white and blue cape cod home, knowing that if I did sneak in one more glance, I would jump out of the cab and run back. I would never make it to the Academy, and considering the circumstances, I have definitely earned my spot in the school.

      Before I knew it, I was sitting on a seat on the right side of the bus, staring out the window as it began to rain. What a metaphor, raining on the only town that I have known as home right as I bid everything farewell.

      I quickly glanced at my reflection through the window as the bus began to take off. I was wearing a pastel yellow hawaiian shirt with a maroon UVA shirt underneath. A pair of khaki shorts with my brown belt sported me underneath. Yeah, I know, but I don’t really care about my appearance right now. In a matter of hours, my whole wardrobe will only consist of various naval uniforms. I looked up at my hair and adjusted the slick part that I had over my left side, looking at the wave which used to be curls when I was younger. In my acceptance packet was information regarding the new hair procedures. Women were no longer required to get any sort of haircut, as long as their hair can fit tightly in the bun that they sport in the back of their head. And men no longer had to get a buzz cut as long as their hair was kept at a short length above their neck. Thank fuck!

      The bus drove right by the Hospice House of Piedmont. Big mistake on me for sitting on this end! I dropped my face and held my breath, feeling a tightness in my throat as a wave of mourning hit me. The last time I drove down this street was in his car, the tears streaming down my face as he drove me, an orphan, back to my house. March 17th was one of the worst days of my life. I could still remember every detail about that day. I remember the nurses quietly guiding him and I down the hall into my mother’s room. Her cervical cancer had progressed enough that she was no longer conscious. I grabbed onto her hand and squeezed as long as I could. Although she couldn’t express it, I could feel that she knew I was there, she knew I was holding her hand, and she knew tears were flowing down my face, begging her not to go yet, to stay with me just one more day. It wasn’t even 20 minutes later that she was gone, him and I were in the room as her spirit took off, to be reunited with my dad, her love, after 16 long years.

Of course the bus had to drive by the cemetery! Why wouldn’t they? I glanced over at the plot of land that I knew all too well. Riverview was one of the largest cemeteries in Charlottesville, and the one my mom chose to be buried in. When I started my junior year, her doctor’s discovered a mass in her cervix. It wasn’t long until that same doctor advised her to make arrangements, putting the battle we were going through in full picture. She held on for a whole nother year! Telling me every night that she loved me and promising she would do whatever she could to be at my graduation. She was only 2 months away when she just couldn’t fight anymore.

Her funeral was hard. Harder than losing her I think. She didn’t want much. Just a patch that was right by a bench, so I (and my “future Bradshaw’s” as she used to say) could come and sit and talk with her whenever I wanted. She had a simple light brown casket, and she was buried in the dress she had planned on wearing to my graduation, a light blue front-buttoned mid sleeve midi dress. In her hands were my dad’s cross necklace that he wore almost every day when he was in the air. He wasn’t wearing it the day he died, which my mom and I found to be haunting. We found it in his locker at Top Gun, and mom always said it was his soul’s way of leaving a piece of him with her. 

There were yellow tulips and white roses, her favorite flowers, everywhere in the funeral home. I picked out one yellow tulip and placed it next to her in her coffin, as a way for me to let her go, to let go of a sadness that I knew would destroy me if I didn’t. Attached to the tulip was a note that I wrote her, which was a print of the “Great Balls of Fire” lyrics. I couldn’t find my own words to say, so I made my goodbye a recitation of our family song. One that would play almost every night in our house. Not the actual song though, but rather a recording of my dad playing it to my mom on the night they were married. My mom didn’t tell me this until I was older, but she was nearly one month pregnant with me when they were married, so I guess I was there too when that recording was made! 

I watched as her casket was lowered to the ground. He was standing right behind me, ready to lend a shoulder, hand, hug, whatever, when I needed it. Behind him was every living member of him and my dad’s Top Gun class, which included Vice Admiral Kazansky, who is rumored to be Admiral within the next few years. I stayed and stared down at her casket, now well in its place under the ground for hours. He stayed with me, never leaving my side for a moment. Eventually, I turned around and made my way to his car, falling over and crying on the cold wet ground. He was there within seconds, holding onto me and rubbing my back as I wept. 

Once the bus turned the corner and headed away from the cemetery, I felt like I could breathe again. The air was less heavy, and the tightness in my throat diminished. I love you, mom I thought as the bus entered the area where Charlottesville High School, my alma mater, was located. I watched the rain pour down onto the school as graduates ran from the gymnasium to their cars. It was graduation day. I hate fate right now…

I didn’t speak a word to anyone from the day my mom was buried to the day of Graduation. Everyone at school avoided me like I was dipped in shit, and my teachers knew better than to ask me how I was doing. I just went to class, did my assignments, and went home. Despite the intense depression that I was going through, I still managed to pass all of my finals, although my grades for them were well below the expectation I held for myself, earning distinguished honors and a 3.94 GPA by graduation.

The only thing that kept me going through this time was checking my mailbox. I know that sounds dumb, but I would always have a string of excitement when I opened the black port at the front of my driveway. Every day that string would be sliced in half, leaving me to bleed all over the floor. Metaphorically speaking. He watched from the living room as I came into the house either empty handed or holding nothing but bills, which he generously paid for.

It wasn’t until we climbed out of his truck, him dressed in a button down and slacks, and me in my own, plus my yellow cap and gown, when he told me what he did. 

***

“Buds, we need to talk” Maverick said as he reached out and set a hand on Bradley’s sulked shoulder. Buds was Pete’s adopted nickname for Bradley. One that he started calling him after Goose died. One that Bradley always found peace in when it escaped his adopted dad’s lips.

Bradley turned his body to face him, but kept his eyes to the ground. This day was hard on so many levels. Hard because his mom didn’t make it. Hard because all of his friends knew where they were going, and he didn’t know yet. Hard because he had to start admitting that a rejection letter from the Naval Academy was imminent by this time.

“Hey,” Pete went on soothingly, “Trust me. You’ll want to hear this”.

Bradley looked up at Pete, a lifeless look in his eyes. He had no emotion and he has had no emotion for months now. He didn’t have it in him to be sad, or mad, or happy, or anxious anymore.

“I know you’ll probably hate me for this, but I have to tell you that I did something.” Pete said, causing Bradley to shift his stance, getting more curious with what Pete was about to say, “There’s a reason why you haven’t heard back from the Academy yet. That’s because I uhhh-I-”

Bradley’s life went numb as he heard Pete’s words about pulling his academy papers. He stood there, blinking and breathing slowly as he comprehended what Maverick had just confessed to him. 

“You-You what?” Bradley had managed to mutter. The first comment he made for months.

“I pulled your application papers. For reasons you can’t understand until you’re older”.

Bradley felt his whole body tighten into his fight or flight response as he considered how to react to this news. How could Pete do this to him? Pete watched as Bradley excitedly filled out the application in February, and never said anything. If Pete were to get in the way, Bradley would’ve preferred that it been back then. That he wouldn’t have let him mail in his application. Instead, Maverick had used his ties within the Navy to pull an applicant's papers. Papers that were already accepted into the Academy with open arms.

Bradley rose his hands and shoved Maverick back; “How could you!” He yelled, “How could you do this to me!” Pete’s face turned as the guilt of his actions sunk in, and he rose his hand to try to grab onto Bradley’s shoulders, but Bradley retaliated, pushing his hand back, “I hate you!” He screamed at him.

Pete tried to take another step forward, but Bradley only pushed him back further, “I mean it! I hate you!” Pete didn’t try to move forward again. Instead, he stood back and took in all of the insults that Bradley was throwing him. “Go home! Don’t come near me again!” Bradley sternly demanded as he turned on his heels. Maverick stood there, knowing it was best to not follow him.

Bradley angrily stomped toward the gymnasium, running his hands through his deep ember curls, not knowing exactly how to comprehend this news yet.

***

I crumpled my fist up and felt my chest tighten, taking deep breaths to contain my anger. An anger that I have held onto for years. I attempted to apply again after my first year of college, but right after I submitted my application, I received a handwritten letter from my “assumed father figure” saying that he pulled my application again. The letter urged me to continue working towards my degree in Political Science, and promised that if I still wanted to attend the Academy after graduation, that he would let me go.

Attending the Academy after earning a bachelor’s degree was as nontraditional as any practice goes, but it wasn’t impossible. It just meant that I would have a second degree once I graduated. The caveat to this was that I had to start over completely. USNA was not going to accept any of my UVA credits, which I found complete bullshit, but still not enough to deter me from attending. I had to go. It was the only way. The only way I wanted. I wanted to make my dad proud. He would have wanted this, and damn it I would have wanted him to see this.

This letter was the last time I heard from him. He never bothered to show his face again, or attempt to call, or even send gifts. However, he still managed to pay all of the bills on the house. He knew I would object to this, so before graduation, he had the billing address changed to his. Now that I have graduated college, I received a notice that the bills would be my responsibility, and since I was leaving, I would lose the house. He made it very clear to his attorney that if I went to the Academy, the house would go. My blood boiled even more since he gave me this ultimatum. I couldn’t let him win again. Not this time. Now it was my time to reclaim my life. To reclaim what I was robbed of. He may have set me back by 4 years, but I was determined to outrank him one day. One day, I would approach him and make him order to me, finally receiving the revenge that has been looming in my brain for years. Watch out Captain Mitchell, I’m coming for you.

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