To say I’ve been caught up in a whirlwind of new WIPs is an understatement!
The choices were enough to drive me crazy but you know I can’t resist sharin’ so here are some of my favorites!
(banner by Belizabetty Masen)
In high school, Edward was the bad boy Bella pined for, but he never noticed her. While she was away at college, he was behind bars. Their paths cross again when she arrives home and he sees how she’s changed. Can she handle the truth about him—that he’s after the blood of the man who killed his father—and will she stay by his side with danger around every corner?
As far as physical attraction went, Edward was the flame and I was the moth drawn to him. He had a filthy mouth and I knew he loved to watch me react when he spoke. But I never felt threatened by him. Not like I had by that asshole in the parking lot earlier.
“Are you done with them, those guys that you were with earlier?”
“Is it going to stand between us if I’m not?”
“Yeah, it just might.”
He leaned his head back against my couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m as done with them as I can be, baby.”
“I’m not your baby, and what does that even mean?”
He lifted his head to stare at me. “Ah, so it’s okay to call you mami, but baby is crossing a line?”
I’d never hated how I was prone to blushing as much as I did right then. It was as good of a tell as any.
A grin spread across his lips. “You like it, yeah? You gonna call me papi while you’re laid up under me with my cock in that chocha?”
My eyes widened and I gasped loudly. My fingers twitched, ready to slap him.
“Do it, mami,” he taunted. “I like it when you’re rough with me,” he growled in my ear.
I felt the sting on my palm before it even registered that I’d actually slapped him. He groaned.
“Holy shit, Edward, I—”
“Don’t even think about apologizing.” He rubbed his jaw where I’d slapped him. “I pushed you. I deserved it; fuck, I asked you to. I wanted you to do it. I can’t control my tongue around you. I’m sorry.”
“I like the way you talk to me,” I whispered, feeling my face flush further. I liked his dirty mouth, and I liked our heated back and forth.
He pulled me onto his lap so I straddled him. I could feel every hard inch of him and had to hold back a moan.
“You gonna be my girl, then?”
“We hardly know each other. Plus, you still didn’t answer my question. Are you done with those guys?” I looked straight into his eyes as I waited for his answer.
“Look, I’ve got no plans to hang out with them on a daily basis, but I’m not done with them. Or, should I say, they’re not done with me.”
“What do you mean?”
For a quick moment, I would have sworn I saw worry flash in his eyes. “Royce King is looking for me.”
FYI, Edward’s mother is Columbian while his father was 100% Irish, a deadly beautiful combination of genes!
This is how MissLiss15 sees her Edward in this story and we, in her Facebook group, swooned to the floor when she posted it:
Dive in and catch up…see if you don’t fall in love with Papiward as much as I did!
(EDIT 08OCT19: BRAND NEW banner by Belizabetty Masen)
A story of perseverance & the lack thereof. For the downtrodden. About love & loss along with the betrayal & bitterness that ensues in its aftermath. Long story short, a story about Hades & how maybe he’s not the bad guy, after all. 1/4 c Lucifer. 2 tbsp Meet Joe Black. 1 heaping swig of Twilight. misc nonsense. Liberties with Greek mythology. MA, ExB AH (sort of) blah blah blah
For those of you who have long mourned the disappearance of Jo, FictionFreak95 from our fandom, I have the most wonderful news…she’s baaack!
My first breath of freedom is delicious. Just as I imagined it might be. I feel more alive than I have in a millennia. Leaving the underworld has been on my deceitful mind forever and a day. For the past thousand years or so, actually committing the action has proven to be more difficult than it sounds. It’s a bit akin to what humans might view as a caged bird. They aren’t exactly happy with their circumstances but given the chance to fly, they rarely take flight.
Tonight, I flew.
And once I made the painstaking decision to indeed leave, everything else seemed quite easy.
Arranging for a replacement, check.
Walking past the idiotic rivermen to exit my domain unaccounted for, Check.
Deciding what I want to do first and foremost, pretty much check.
Ah, yes…about that replacement:
Before he can question what I mean, with an indiscreet snap of my fingers, he’s gone.
Don’t worry. He’s not dead.
Not really, anyway. That would be cheating. I don’t cheat.
He’s just… somewhere in between. Indefinitely.
In his abrupt departure, by design, the keys to his car have fallen to the ground, and I happily pick them up. I push a button to unlock the sleek, black 2-door BMW 428i then slide into the driver’s seat, taking a moment to fully appreciate the comfort of this man’s taste.
I look around a bit then pull open the middle compartment to find his wallet. I open it up to see whose persona I will be taking for a while.
I read the name with disdain.
Then I shrug, it’s as good a name as any, I suppose. I slip the wallet into my pocket and lock his car up again before heading into the bar I apparently own to see what sort of fun
“Nice to meet you, Edward,” I say to the night air. “I’m Hades.”
You might not remember Jo but you surely remember such titles as: Edward Cullen, Dick for Hire and its sequel, The Dick in Me, Meet the Masens, Penal Code and many, many more!
Rated: Fiction M – English – Suspense/Romance – Bella, Edward, Charlotte, Peter – Chapters: 9 – Words: 23,283 – Reviews: 404 – Favs: 372 – Follows: 720 – Updated: Sep 23 – Published: Jan 23 – id: 13186521
I’m readin’ this and realizin’ kids are the most sneaky, deceitful little creatures on Earth, even when they mean well LOL!
The Swan’s yard was big. Wild flowers surrounded the outlines of the property, adding color next to the tall, mossy evergreens that drew around the start of the forest. In the center of the yard sat a small yellow play house. Of course, it had a small, flowery welcome front and a window on the west side. Consisting of three small rooms: a kitchen, a living room, and a spare, the play house was Charlotte’s safe haven when her mother was not around.
Her dolls and toys were already nestled into the small house, now along with the Rapunzel book she’d stolen off of the bookshelf. In the kitchen, she set down a plastic tea pot filled to the brim with whatever type of tea her mother had prepped for her the night before. Tea parties were a daily thing in the Swan household.
Today, two guests, would make an appearance at Charlotte Swan’s ultimate tea party. Lining up a crazy redhaired doll with a sewed on smile and a stuffed lion, she started to pour the cups of tea. However, redhair’s glass was only halfway full when the small cup was dropped, covering the plastic floor in a slew of spilt tea (juice).
Charlotte couldn’t help it. She wasn’t expecting a third guest, especially not the dirty looking boy that was sitting in a chair on the opposing side of the room. This boy looked small, yet couldn’t be bigger than her cousin Jake, who was six years older. His light blonde hair highlighted with muck, stood out in many different directions around his pale face. His jeans were torn at the hemline and his shirtsleeves non-existent. Her doe eyes met his large green ones and they stared at each other for a while.
Charlotte scoffed, bending over to pick up plastic cup. She looked up at the boy expectedly.
“Well, are you going to just sit there or are you going to join me for my tea party?”
So far, Charlotte’s been able to hide Peter from Bella but surely not for much longer *nail bite!*
(banner by LayAtHomeMom and Patrizia Adamo)
Dedicated to anyone who ever coveted their sister’s boyfriend LOL!
The hot California sun kisses my bare legs as they hang out the window of Jacob’s car, a beat up ’67 Charger that he loves more than me, a fact we’re both aware of. We’re driving to Frosty Freeze, our daily trip for ice cream in a summer that feels like it’s screeching towards its end even though it’s just begun. I’m already late for work, but I don’t care all that much, which is basically how I feel about most things.
I push the hair flying around my face out of the way, just in time to see him in the parking lot at Zuma beach.
His golden shoulders glisten with salty ocean water, his old denim cutoffs lay unbuttoned and hanging dangerously low around his hips. A white t-shirt sticks out of his back pocket, waiting to be put back on.
With his right hand he slings the yellow and blue surfboard easily under his arm, and with the left, he pulls Rosalie Hale’s bikini clad body into his own.
I lick my lips and squeeze my thighs together, knowing that in just a few short hours, he’ll be sitting across from me at dinner, eating whatever Renee makes from the helpful housewife advertisements she sees during The Carol Burnett Show.
He may be dating my step-sister, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing he were mine.
PB takes us back to the late 70’s in her newest story and it’s an amazin’ trip for those of us old enough to remember the carefree days…or were they, between childhood and the real world!
When only the first chapter has been posted and you’re already nailed to your chair!
Gathering all the courage he could, Tyler turned to face his unwanted spectators, determined to make the best of this horrifying situation. All the breath left his lungs as his gaze fell upon the three impossibly gorgeous women before him. They appeared to be his age, lean and fit but still shapely, with pale skin so smooth it looked like silk. Their faces were stunningly beautiful, but it was their eyes—eerily menacing and a color he didn’t even know existed—that truly had him captivated. He couldn’t stop from gawking blatantly.
The one in the middle, a long-haired brunette, cocked her head to the side as she stared at him, a sly smile curving onto her deep red lips. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said teasingly. Her voice danced and shimmered almost inhumanly, ringing around him like a choir of bells. “Please. Don’t let us stop you from… finishing.”
Tyler just stared at her dumbly.
“Ooh, maybe he needs some help,” the girl on the brunette’s right, a stunning blonde, suggested with an excited glint in her already bright eyes. “I call dibs!”
The final of the three, her hair a wild mess of fiery red curls, giggled in a high-pitched, girlish lilt. Tyler recognized it as the second laugh he’d heard when they first approached. It gave him the chills; there was something deeply more menacing about it than the other girl’s. “Don’t be greedy, now. He’s cute. We can share…”
A tickle crawled up Tyler’s back, though he wasn’t quite sure if it was from fright or desire. These two hotter-than the-sun chicks wanted to… to…help him? Help him get off? No. No, surely he must have misunderstood.
“Awww,” the blonde girl whined. “They’ve only got one really good scream in them, though. I never get it all to myself.” Her full pink lips turned down in a pout while her eyes remained on him hungrily.
Hungrily. The word echoed through Tyler’s head as realization dawned on him. That was exactly how he would describe the look they all wore: hungry… insatiably hungry. But for what?
The redhead sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively at him. “Fiiiiine… he’s all yours. Just don’t get too carried away. You already pigged out back at the house. Hardly left anything for the rest of us.”
Tyler gaped at her in confusion. He still hadn’t said a word. They were taking so cryptically; he had no idea what was going on.
Well, we might have an idea what’s goin’ on, right? But who are these three deadly sirens? Are they who we think they are?
When Bella’s hallucinations of Edward became her only source of comfort, she had to find new and creative ways to trigger them. Now, Edward is back and determined to earn her trust… and her submission. Rating: M, New Moon AU, Canon vamps and pairings, BDSM themes, HEA, No Cheating. Regular updates until Completed!
Ladies, you won’t find this last story on FFN but I’m sharin’ it here, nonetheless! Also because Bev would kick my butt if I didn’t…she’s already deep into it LOL!
My wrists were cuffed to a metal support frame over my head, and I registered the cool numbness in my fingertips with some long-detached part of my brain. The part that took note of any physical sensation other than the pain to which I subjected myself. I gasped as the polished birch made contact with my ass again, leaving stripes of fire across the tender skin there. My breaths came with increasing speed, processing every delicious second of pain as I waited for the next blow.
I could feel his eyes on me, gauging my tolerance and stamina, studying my reactions down to the most minute movements of my body. Malcolm had learned quickly that while I understood the purpose of a safe word, I would never use it. I needed this too much. I craved it the way a normal person craved food, water, oxygen… Every nerve in my body quivered with anticipation as I took another strike, and the edges of my vision began to shimmer.
I was almost there.
It didn’t use to take this long. At one point, I could reach my goal with just a few good lashes of a belt, a few swats of a heavy paddle. These days, it was harder… but worth it. I was so close I could almost taste it now. My pain level surged as the cane whipped against the backs of my thighs, just under my buttocks where the skin was the most sensitive.
And there he was.
Not the muscled, dark-skinned man behind me but the man I’d truly come to see. He looked as perfect as he always did, with his pale gleaming skin, his tousled bronze hair, those warm golden eyes, and that smile. The smile that was so exquisitely beautiful it erased my physical pain completely.
My entire body was enveloped by a blissful numbness, granting me a reprieve even from the ever-present ache in my hollow chest. I couldn’t feel the tears I knew were streaming down my cheeks, and the strikes of the cane couldn’t penetrate the shield of my hallucination. I vaguely registered the pressure of each blow and the sound of the of the thin rod connecting with my inflamed skin. But every strike only made his smile brighter and his voice sweeter as he hummed my lullaby and murmured words of love.
I didn’t dare pull my eyes away from the bronze-haired boy, even when the caning stopped. My fastidious Dominant began to treat the welts with a cool, damp cloth, crooning nonsense into my ear. But he couldn’t reach me. I couldn’t have cared less what he was saying, and by that point, it didn’t matter. He may as well have been invisible or not in the room at all.
He thought I was in subspace, and maybe I was. Maybe this was what subspace felt like for me. But he wasn’t the one who’d brought me there… not really. He was just another instrument, a tool as effective as the cane he’d wielded. He could’ve been anyone, any gender, any race… Right then, in that moment, I wasn’t submitting to him.
Let me know what you think of these!
Happy Wednesday, y’all!