#this isn’t really what you asked for.. i was planning to do this with a version withneach palette

[konigsblog]

as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗

dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!

synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.

tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃

photo credits; @ave661

You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.

He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.

Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.

When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.

It's alright, you won't notice surely...

And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.

Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.

“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.

He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.

“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?

“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”

König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.

The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.

His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.

You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.

“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.

“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.

You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.

König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.

“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.

You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.

#also i'm honoured to be your favourite könig writer my dear 🥹🥹 #means so much to me (glad we're all depraved for this man...) #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig x female reader #konig x reader smut #konig x you #könig #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig #tw: age difference #tw: age gap #orla speaks

[wosoamazing]

Team Bonding Night

Part 5 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: I do have up to chapter 14ish of this pre-planned however if anyone has anything they might want to see in it please let me know and I will try to include it in here somewhere, if I don't already have it included.

Tonight was team bonding night and you decided that you would start the year right and offer to hold the first team bonding of the year. Stina and Frida came over and helped you set up. It was decided there would be a few games of pool before a movie. As all the girls arrived there were plenty of comments about how fancy your place was and how your parents must be rich, they were all light hearted and really just jokes but unbeknownst to everyone they all hit a nerve, but you had prepared for this and so you just ignored it, knowing that the girls meant nothing.

You had just performed the break shot for the last game of the night when Leah came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. You were almost expecting a comment from someone or even at least a look from Beth, who kept teasing you about ‘your very close friendship with Leah’, at Leah’s actions however no one batted an eyelid. But it was most likely because Leah was known for her hugs and hugging people, so much so that it didn’t even surprise you when she did it.

“Hello,” you said as she turned her head so it rested on your shoulder, “as much as I appreciate this it’s almost my turn again,” you informed her, she just hummed before letting you go. 

The pool game was coming to an end, with Katie and Caitlin having two remaining balls to sink whilst you and Steph were now trying to sink the 8-ball, so Stina decided to start setting up for the movie, opening the door to the gym to get the bean bags.

“Holy Crap, how do you have so many trophies and medals?” Alessia let out, announcing the fact to the whole team, causing you to wish that you could just vanish right there and then, not even thinking about the fact everyone would see them, whilst you were getting ready, to be fair Alessia wasn’t over reacting, you had a large amount of Trophies. With at least one trophy for every football season, and at least two medals per season, plus an assortment of Track & Field and Cross Country trophies and medals, the collection grew pretty quickly.

“Where are they all from?” Kyra asked in awe, “Well school gave us them, if you scored the most goals, and then each season we got medals, and all the cross country and Track ones are school, and then obviously club football too,”

“You got medals and trophies for sport? Like regularly,” “Yeah, at awards nights, we got them for academic stuff too,”

“See that’s what happens when you go to a School like Melbourne Grammar, you’ve got to sit through the several hours long assemblies regularly.” Steph joked, it was something you always complained about to her.

“Isn’t Melbourne Grammar Expensive? Wait but is it true that your parents are also totally rich?” Katie asked, you just slightly nodded as you saw Leah’s eye widen from across the room at the mention of your parents, thankfully Beth diverted the conversation without anyone returning to the topic. 

______

You were sitting on the couch next to Leah as you all watched a movie. At some point Leah’s arm migrated to be around your back with her hand resting on your waist and you had dropped your head to rest on her shoulder.

“You must’ve had a good childhood,” Katie said as she looked around at the photos of you on the wall, you grinning in almost every single one, your Aunt’s by your side for a lot of them. However you hadn’t noticed she was looking at the photos and you thought that she was still on about the whole money thing, but not wanting to make a big deal you didn’t want to say much, so you settled with a simple “sure,” sounding a little annoyed.

“Oh did you never get a pony,” her joke sent you over the edge and so you snapped, you felt Leah’s hand grip onto your wrist as you stood up encouraging you not to do so, but you just ripped your arm from her grip.

“No Katie. I got a Pony. I’m just an embarrassment to the family according to my parents. I was told that football didn't matter, that the thing I was best at and loved was pointless and never going to happen as the family reputation needed to be upheld. I missed my first ever national camp, because I wasn't allowed to go, because it would’ve meant I would miss too much school, and CEOs, CFOs, doctors, professors or board members don’t take days off school. I have never made my parents proud, the more milestones I reach in my career, the more successful I am the more I become a failure to them. So yes, I did have money, and I thankfully had two very kind hearted women who made up for the fact I didn’t have parents, but my life wasn’t and will never be pure rainbows and sunshine,” you felt tears well up in your eyes as you suddenly realised you had just revealed a major part of your past to not just Katie but the whole team, you felt all eyes in the room on you, you couldn’t stay, you felt like the dam would break soon and you couldn’t embarrass yourself further in front of the team, so you got up, you left the room and headed towards the stairs, not knowing what else to do.

You slid down the wall of the spare bedroom upstairs as you dropped your head, holding it in your hands as you began to cry.

Stina had followed you and she quickly came to sit by your side, pulling you into her side.

“I can’t believe I did that, I just, jag bara. Jag tänkte inte och nu vet de alla. Tänk om-” (I just. I didn’t think and now they all know. What if-)

“Y/N/N andetag, ta några djupa andetag” (breath, take some deep breaths), Stina instructed you as she placed her hands on your shoulders, shifting to be kneeling in front of you.

A light knock was heard from the door and Beth and Steph popped their heads around the corner, “Oh sorry, we just thought you might want some water,” Stina nodded her head and they came in, placing the water on the floor next to you.

“Tack,” (thank you) you replied forgetting you weren’t talking to Stina anymore, “Sorry, thank you,” both women nodded and smiled before turning around to head out.

“Will Katie hate me now?” you ask no one specifically, causing the two women to turn around again.

“Y/N, no she won't, if anything I think she feels bad and is worried you won’t like her anymore.” Beth said and you nodded softly.

“Is everyone still downstairs?” You questioned, “No, Leah is letting them all out,” Steph told you nodded as you relaxed a little again, “I should probably go, Kyra will be waiting for me,” “yeah, Viv will be waiting for me,” “I think I’m taking Frida home, unless you want us to stay,” “No, its okay, I should go see if Leah is still here and apologise to her,” as you walked down the stairs you saw Leah standing in the middle of the living room fiddling with her wrist, you walked up to her.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked and she wrapped her arms around you, to give you a hug.

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t, but I’m sorry for not letting you speak up, I know she was only joking but it still wasn't right.” she said as she tried to pull back, “as much as I would love to stay and talk I think Lia is waiting for me in the car,” you let go of the hug as your mood slightly dropped “oh,” you said taking a step back, “come over for breakfast tomorrow?” “of course” she replied smiling and you returned the smile before she let herself out.

“So,” Steph said as she walked into the room, “That was,” Beth followed, dragging out as she couldn’t find the right word, “Palpable,” Stina said, assisting Beth.

“Please don’t I’ve already told you we’re just friends,”

“Okay,” they all replied with a raised eyebrow before hugging you and saying their goodbyes. 

_______

You were sitting at the kitchen island next to Leah as you ate breakfast when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, I’ll go get that, don’t you dare eat any more of my food,” you looked at her and she smirked, “Leah, don’t,” you instructed her again as you opened the door.

“Oh Katie, hi,” your words were enough for Leah to get up out of her chair and come over to where you were at the door.

“Erm, hi,” the Irish woman said, “I just wanted to apologise for last night, I erm, I shouldn’t hav-” “It’s okay Katie, you couldn’t have known and I’m sorry for snapping at you, I, well some stuff is going on with my family, more my parents currently, so it’s just something that is currently a sensitive topic, usually it doesn’t bug me,” you cut her off, “Erm, okay yeah, sorry,” she said still kind of awkwardly, “It’s okay,” you reminded her as you pulled her in for a hug, “you’re welcome to join us for breakfast if you want.”

Katie took you up on your offer and so you, Leah and her all had breakfast together before driving to training.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #awfc x reader #awfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #wosoamazing fireonfire

[unformula1]

Lando proposing to you with “bless the broken roads”

bless the broken roads (LN4 x gn!Reader)

lando and you don’t think you’ll find someone. liar. w/c: 1237 masterlist(read more) a/n: I tried my best lol. I'm sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. Please correct me if you wanted something else!! TW: one use of y/n

There was a running joke between Lando’s friends. “Lando will never find true love.” 

After years of being single or chasing someone to no avail, Lando’s almost beginning to accept his curse. However, as much as he joked about it, he really wanted someone. He needed someone.

It was a death cycle. Lando would find someone, they’d lead him on, then down bad Lando would take over, then he’d take his chance and fail. Then after all that work, he would be pushed back onto his broken road.

He was beginning to accept that he was really never going to find someone.

But he never gave up. He kept searching.

------

You don’t know how long it was since you felt someone loved you romantically. You missed that feeling. Spending forever just finding someone who would love you back and then getting absolutely no fruit was tiring, it was exhausting.

You know when you finally find someone, you’d give them the world and shower them with all the love you had in you. You constantly tell yourself how there’s one grand plan for you to find the one person you’ve been longing for and all you have to do is wait.

Waiting for years isn’t easy. 

You’re losing hope, walking along a broken road.

------

Lando and you met some time ago, but you two hit it off almost instantly. Both of you were made for each other, the chemistry was through the roof.

Lando never failed to make you laugh. Even on your darkest days Lando was like a beacon of light, a bundle of sunshine. He smiled a lot, which you admired whenever you could.

You never failed to make Lando feel appreciated, which Lando would never admit no matter what, but deep down you knew Lando loved that. You made time for Lando, and you stayed with him come hell or high water.

Life wasn’t easy for you. There were countless nights where you cried in his arms, you cried your eyes out with him, and you felt safe. You felt safe with Lando. There were sleepless nights where everything just got too much and right next to you was Lando, holding your hand, and that was all you needed. You felt safe with Lando. 

Life wasn’t easy for Lando either. Sometimes his busy life got a little too hectic and chaotic, he’d come find you. Lando felt protected by you, although he’d never say. Sometimes people got too far and everything felt like a crumbling mess, he’d come find you. Lando felt protected. He wanted to be next to you, whenever, wherever you were.

Then one day, everything fell together, sort of. Lando asked you to be his “other half”. Long story short, you said yes and kissed him in the sunset.

------

It had become a common occurrence for you and Lando to lie down on empty grass fields or the rooftops and look up into the skies, to talk about your lives.

You open the door to the rooftop. Lando doesn’t usually do these a night before the race. A cold blast of wind blows against you as you walk out. Lando is just standing there, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, as he looks out into the city.

You walk over to Lando and slide your hand around his waist and he giggles as you do so.

“I like the sky tonight.” You say and Lando hums an approving ‘hm’.

“I like it too. Starry night.” Lando replies, shifting on the spot slightly.

“You know in the wilderness, people would use stars to guide them.” You say, pointing at some random stars.

Lando hums.

“Especially the North Star, because it lies above Earth’s North. So they used it to guide them.” You smile while saying it.

“Everyone else before you was like a North Star.” Lando speaks.

You turn to Lando, cocking up an eyebrow.

“They guided me to find you.” Lando clears his throat, smiling widely as he looks up into the sky while speaking.

“You’re adorable.” You reply which earns you an honest chuckle from Lando.

You shift closer to Lando and he does so too. Both of you stand next to each other, bodies touching. His warm hands slide out of his pockets and around your shoulder, it makes you feel comfortable despite the cold winds blowing against you.

“I used to dream of days like these.” Lando admits, his voice is soft and just for you to hear, “Never thought they’d come true.”

“I did too.” You chuckle.

“I thought they were lost dreams.” Lando continues, “But yet here you are.”

“Yea…” You take a deep breath, “Here we are… you’re the love of my life.”

Lando shifts even closer to you, pulling you into his embrace. The hug is tight and it lasts for a while, you hear Lando’s soft sobbing which he usually doesn’t do publicly.

“Are you okay?” You ask, voice laced with concern.

Lando takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, “There have been many people I’ve tried to love before you.”

You nod.

“None of them have been as good as you. I never thought I’d meet someone who understood me, but you came.” Lando takes another deep breath, “I honestly never thought there’d be someone for me…”

“Neither did I, honestly.” You chuckle as you place your hands on Lando’s shoulder.

“When I asked you to be the love of my life, I didn’t think you’d say yes.” Lando shuffles his feet and sniffles a little, “But you did and I could not be more grateful.”

You smile at Lando and he smiles a little too.

“My entire life has been like a broken road, filled with pitfalls and traps, loss and despair. All my life I’ve wanted to just be for someone, and now I have.” Lando takes a step back.

“y/n…” 

“Lando…” 

He reaches into his pocket before getting down on one knee. The backdrop of car honking and people chattering suddenly fades into silence and the stars shine brighter than ever. All the lights shine at him and you two are in the spotlight.

“I never want to live without you again. Will you marry me?”

The world around you freezes, all you see is Lando, on one knee, holding a ring in his hand, his eyes filled with tears. 

“Yes.” You say softly.

“YES!” You repeat but louder, and admittedly, more cheerfully.

He slides the ring onto your ring finger and gets up. You take no time to rush into him, your arms swinging around him and pulling him in. 

“I’ll make you the happiest person ever, I promise, all those years of finding love, I’ll give it to you and only you.” Lando says as he lifts you off the ground, planting a kiss on your lips.

It feels like forever on the rooftop before both of you walk back down to Lando’s room, holding each other’s hands.

It was nothing special, just both of you on a silent rooftop. To you, it was everything. Every single attempt to find someone who would love you back, every lost road that both of you set on, every heartbreak you two went through, all culminating in that few seconds.

You loved Lando. Lando loved you.

Both of your broken roads, leading right into each other’s.

Bless the broken roads that let both of you to each other’s arms.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #not beta read #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando x reader #mclaren #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #f1 fluff #fluff #ln4 fluff #proposal

[reidsdimples]

Confetti 🎉

Spencer Reid x bau!Reader

Just cute 💝

“It’s not too much! How could it be too much?!” Penelope exclaims as she tosses confetti onto and around Spence’s desk.

You frown, especially because she picked the tiny confetti that finds its way into everything. Spencer will hate it.

“You just wanna torture him,” you shake your head and grin.

“You remember that time he filled my office drawer with those spring loaded snakes? Nearly gave me a heart attack! He gets what he deserves in the form of too much confetti love,” she quips as she dumps the smaller confetti into his drawer.

“Baby girl, you have your own office. We’ll never hear the end of what you’re doing to the kid,” Derek cuts in and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Shh! He’ll be here any minute!” Penelope says.

“Lights out, he’s in the elevator,” Hotch says more stoically.

The surprise party probably could have happened anywhere. But he would be least expecting it in the bullpen and as a result of a late night text from Hotch.

You crouch down and fiver nervously with the horn noise maker thing. Emily drags JJ behind a desk as the elevator dings open.

Spence pauses before opening the glass door, suspicion painted over his soft features. He glances through the glass briefly, furrows his eyebrows like he does when he’s thinking, and sighs.

“He’s suspicious,” you whisper to Penelope who swats your arm.

Just then Rossi exits the elevator. Your saving grace and plan B in case he decided to back out.

“I wonder what Hotch has for us,” he smiles knowingly at Spence before ushering him through the glass door. You can tell he so wanted to back out.

“SURPRISE!” The team jumps out with a roar of noise makers and clapping.

“Happy birthday Spence!”

“Happy birthday kid!”

An onslaught of attention is turned towards him and he sweetly smiles and takes it all in.

“Wow I didn’t expect this,” he lies. “Thanks everyone!”

“Happy birthday, you,” you nudge him sweetly. His face lights up when you talk to him, causing your heart to flutter.

You’re starting to think this crush isn’t just one sided. You hope, anyway.

Spencer kind of took you under his wing when you arrived at the BAU six months ago.

“It’s everywhere!” Spencer exclaimes upon inspecting his desk and drawers.

The team collectively points at Penelope who smiles wide with pride.

“That’ll teach you to put spring loaded critters in my desk!” She teases.

Spencer bites his lip and nods in a touchè manner and you find yourself smiling almost too hard. His cheeks are reddened and it always so cute.

Pizza is delivered and cake is cut while everyone socializes. You see that Spence occasionally turns his attention to picking confetti off of his desk, it seems to really bother him.

While he and JJ converse with Rossi, you decide to start emptying his drawers so you can dump the confetti out. It doesn’t take very long, mostly folders and a few fidget toys are scattered within them.

You’re dumping out the second drawer when he appears.

“What are you doing?” He asks and sits on the edge of the desk.

“It seemed to really bother you,” you answer as you tried the contents of his drawer.

“I’m pushing the meeting to ten am tomorrow, go home and get some sleep!” Hotch instructs the team abruptly. It was one am so there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Spence smiles. “I can do the rest tomorrow.”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” you insist. “Go home and get some sleep. It won’t take long.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Emily hugs you and then JJ.

“See you guys!” You wave them off.

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Penelope leave in tandem. Penelope offered to help you clean the confetti but you told her to go home, she had already decorated the entire office. You could clean it up.

“Shouldn’t you be going,” you point to the elevator closing on the rest of the team.

“No I’m going to help. You can’t get rid of me so don’t even try,” Spence teases you playfully.

You huff a small laugh, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. He’s so cute.

“Huh?” Spence says suddenly. Wait, did I murmur something?

“What?” You turn to him, flustered.

“I swear you said ‘so cute,’” he tilts his head as he pops a balloon in his hand. You jump at the sound.

“I- uh- no,” you stammer. Your cheeks heat which is a dead give away.

“You’re stuttering, your breathing increased, your face is red… you’re lying,” he seems amused.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” You slap his arm with an embarrassed smile. You rush past him back to his desk to keep cleaning.

The next few minutes drag on awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to say next. Spence seemingly having little experience in the flirting department.

“Okay fine, I thought it was cute that you insisted on staying and helping despite the mess driving you crazy,” you cross your arms and lean against the wall.

You watch him closely as he turns his head toward you from where he’s leaning over his desk. His long hair and sharp jaw line causes your heart to skip a beat. His brown eyes meet yours as he articulates what exactly he’s going to say.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, standing to his full height with all of his attention on you. No I think you’re fucking drop dead sexy but sure cute works. A small grin plays in his lips as he awaits your response.

“It’s a crush, really a small crush. And I’m sorry. It’s so inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said anything,” you ramble off and turn away from him.

Something about admitting this makes him intimidating. Especially because he’s walking towards you, fixated and silent. The gears turning in his big giant brain and you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I like you too,” his voice comes out hoarse, a near whisper and he’s right behind you.

You turn back towards him as he pushes his hair back, he swallows hard, his face and neck now colored pink.

He’s nervous, disheveled, adorable.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, just a small kiss. It shocks him, his eyes widening. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and then he’s grabbing your face in his hands.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. Your hands run down his arms and tangle into his shirt. You’re against the wall and his kissing you slowly, as though to take in and taste you completely. His soft lips taste better than you could have imagined as you push your tongue out to find his.

Shit.

The moment goes on in perfect passionate kissing and touching. His hands find your waist, your hips, your lower back, and your body comes alive for him. Small breathy sounds escape as you both fight for air and dominance in the kiss.

Finally you break it, pulling back and looking up at him. His lips are slightly swollen now, his pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from your hands.

“Happy Birthday, Dr. Reid,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg pics #spencer reid one shots #dr reid #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x bau!reader

[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid - Pt. 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: The end of senior year, graduation, and the beginning of your last summer before college.

WC: 3.9k

Italian-American Translations: Basta - Enough, Madonn' - My god, boombotz - idiots

“I think I’m gonna break up with Joey.” You look up from your notebook where you’ve been writing your valedictorian speech. Melissa had been right; you’d secured that spot in your class. You take a moment to gaze at your best friend sitting across from you at your kitchen table. 

It’s a Friday evening, with only a week of your senior year left. Graduation less than two weeks away. You stare at Melissa, trying to figure out where this is coming from. She hasn’t looked you in the eye since you’ve looked up. She’s biting her lower lip and looking for all the world like she’s looking at one of the last pieces of homework you’ll have to do. At least for high school.

You think maybe it’s nerves. Mel certainly looks nervous. Maybe with college coming up she isn’t sure she and Joey will make it through the life changes of it. Except you know how she feels about Joey. She gets annoyed with him and loves to act like an over exasperated partner that’s been married to him for years. You know she almost never is though, not really. When she is, she tells you. This is the first time she’s mentioned anything about breaking up with him.

“Why?” You finally ask, keeping your eyes on your redhead as she finally meets your eye.

She shrugs, leaning against the table. “He’s still hanging out with Mikey and everything… I don’t think it’s right.”

You sigh, setting down your pen. “Mel,” You start as you reach across the table to grip her hands. “Do you love Joey?”

“Yeah but if he’s going to keep hangin’ out with that asshole—”

You squeeze her hands to get her to stop. “Look at me.” You say softly as she had looked away as she started on the tangent you interrupted. You wait until her green eyes are looking at you once more. “Forget all the shit with Mikey.” You say. “I’m not askin’ about that. I’m askin’ how you feel about Joey. You love him, right?”

“Right.” Melissa answers after a moment keeping herself from going on the tangent again at your request. You know she does. You’ve seen it go from her crush on him early junior year to actual affection once they started dating. To now, it's obvious to anyone with eyes around them how much Mel loves him. She’s sarcastic and pretends to be annoyed but she can’t hide the way she looks at him or doesn’t hesitate to do anything he needs. 

“And you wanna be with him? Probably marry him, whenever he gets the nerve to propose, right?” You ask, despite a small ache in your ribs. You blame it on leaning over the table and the wood pressing into them. It isn’t a secret. It hasn’t been since Melissa and Joey’s relationship got serious after they’d been together a year. You imagine it won’t be right away that Joey will propose. Maybe a couple years into college but you know it’s coming. Just like you know Mel’s answer. 

Another long drawn out moment before Mel is nodding across from you. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then you don’t wanna break up with him and you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.” You say, squeezing her hands one more time before you draw them away with a shrug. “The Mikey stuff?” You sigh as you reclaim your pen. “It sucks, yeah. But whatever. Joey was never really my friend, y’know? We got to know each other because you spend time with both of us. It’s not worth breaking up with Joey over the fact that he still wants to hang out with Mikey.”

You both have plans for the next few years. You’ve talked about them plenty in the build up to this year, senior year, and over the course of it. You know Mel is going to go into education, being a teacher is what she’s wanted to do since eighth grade. It hasn’t changed since. She’s planning on her own house in Philly as soon as she can. She’s told you about the little garden she can’t wait to have out back. Fresh produce grown right in her backyard. She’s planning on marrying Joey. She hasn’t said anything about kids but that wouldn’t surprise you. Her family is traditionally big and you know as much as Mel complains about them; they’re the most important to her.

That’s Melissa’s five year plan. College to get her teaching degree, teacher’s assistant until she can get her own position. Save for the house and the garden. Marry Joey. Start their life together, whatever it looks like. You know she doesn’t really care if Joey wants kids or doesn’t. What’s important to her is life with Joey. 

Your five year plan? You don’t have one past your career in social work. That much of a plan has always been more than enough for you. College for your bachelor’s. Start working at the entry level for experience while you go for your master’s. You still haven’t decided if afterwards you’ll go for your doctorate or a phd since they do have different applications for them and the jobs available. You figure though that part of it can wait until you get there. 

The relationship part of it? Well, you’ve just never worried about it too much. You always figured it would find you when it was meant to. If it was meant to. And if it didn’t? Well, you kind of figured you’d be alright either way.

“Maybe you’re right.” Melissa says with a huff across from you. The usual sound that accompanies her admitting she isn’t right. “Maybe I don’t wanna break up with Joey but I’m pissed he’s still hanging around with Mikey after what happened.”

You shrug, glancing back up to her. “Like I said, Mel, it’s okay. Joey and I weren’t really friends anyhow.”

“Maybe not but you’re my best friend and his best friend hurt you. If he cares so much about me shouldn’t that extend to you? Hell, even forget all that, it's just basic human decency!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree. You know I do, Mel. But…it doesn’t change how you feel about him and you can’t make Joey do somethin’ he doesn’t wanna do. It isn’t…it’s not worth ending everything with him over when you still care about him so much. It ain’t worth making yourself miserable over.”

Suddenly Melissa is out of her chair and rounding the table. Before you can even ask she’s throwing herself into your space with enough force it jostles you as her arms wrap around you tightly. “Just know that nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it. Nobody. I won’t let nobody get away with hurtin’ ya, not while I’m breathin’, kid.”

You blink the tears away from your eyes that are welling. You and Melissa haven’t really talked about what happened since prom. You don’t really want to. It happened and you want to move on from it. With her arms gripping you tightly and her words though, you can’t help the swelling of emotions for your best friend. You shift to wrap your arms around her to match her embrace. “Thank you,” is all you can manage to breathe out.

Melissa doesn’t drop her grip around you for a long, drawn out moment. Her arms squeeze around you to reaffirm her presence. It’s only when she hears the front door open and Kristen Marie’s loud entrance that she slowly pulls away. She kisses the top of your head, a hand squeezing your shoulder before she retreats to the other side of the table.

“‘Sup losers.” Kristen Marie says as she strides into the kitchen just as Melissa sits back down. “Mel, where’s Ma?”

“Do I look like I know?” Melissa says, shooting a glare to her sister. 

“Geez, I was just askin’.” Kristen Marie mutters. She glances at you, smiling. “Hey, Y/N, congrats on being valedictorian.”

Melissa’s glare at her sister only hardens at her brightening once she notices you. This is how it’s played out with the Schemmenti sisters since second grade. They gripe at each other and annoy each other. Kristen Marie purposefully cheery at you whenever she sees you strictly because it gets her sister to glare at her like she currently is.

“Thanks.” You answer with a small shake of your head at the Schemmenti Staredown happening across from you. 

“Okay,” Melissa says a little loudly. “You can go now, Kristen Marie.”

“Hello? I’m having a conversation with Y/N, not you, Melissa Ann. Please have some manners. Ma taught us better, you know.” 

“Oh my god,” Melissa grumbles, getting up again to start shoving her sister out of the kitchen. “Go away, we’re busy. No time for conversations with little sisters, get out.”

In the usual perfect timing of any Schemmenti, their mother arrives just then. Stepping through the side door of the house into the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow, seeing her two daughters that are now in the doorway between kitchen and living room. By now, they’ve slipped into their usual insult trading tirade. It’s rapid fire and littered with Italian you only know from practically living in this house as your second home.

“Hey! Basta, you two!” Somehow, Mrs. Schemmenti manages to be louder than her two daughters. As soon as her voice is filling the kitchen, the two sisters freeze entirely. "Madonn’ you’d think I was raising boombotz ‘round here.”

You amusedly watch the two sisters pull away from each other. Each murmuring something along the lines of ‘sorry, Ma.’ Melissa drops back into her seat across from you as Kristen Marie makes for the stairs to retreat to her room. When she looks at you, she frowns. She glances to ensure her mother won’t see before flipping you off in return for you clearly being amused at her getting in trouble. It only makes you laugh, and for as much as Melissa tries to hold her glare at you; she starts smiling.

The next time you see Melissa is at school, with Joey. They have their arms linked as they pass you at your locker between periods. She yanks on his arm to get him to stop so you can talk about the new underclassmen gossip she’s heard. She makes you promise to sit with them at lunch. You do. Joey doesn’t seem uncomfortable but he does seem…awkward. You pay him little mind, focused instead on enjoying a meal with your best friend between classes. Before Joey leaves for his next period Melissa grasps his wrist, firmly reminding him that it’ll be three of you ditching your last day next week and for your senior week trip after graduation. 

“You don’t need to do that.” You say once you look away from the back of Joey’s football jersey as he leaves the cafeteria.

“Yes, I do.”

You sigh. At least Melissa isn’t playing the game of pretending not to know what you’re talking about. “I told you, it’s okay if you just wanna go with Joey for ditch day and senior week. It’s practically spring break with way more freedom; it’s fine, Mel.”

“I don’t want to go just me and Joey for senior week.” She says with a glare. Her tone has you sitting up a bit more, blinking at the redhead sitting across the table from you.

“He wants it to be just the two of us.” Melissa continues after a moment, her fingers picking at what’s left of her sandwich. Unusual enough that she wouldn’t finish lunch it’s more unusual for her to be nervously picking at the remnants. After a moment her green eyes glance back up at you. Melissa clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “He wants to have our first time at the hotel in Myrtle Beach.”

You blink again, doing your best to fight the rising heat you feel in your cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s embarrassment at the topic or the awkwardness. Or the way Melissa’s clear feeling of discomfort reminds you of Mikey and prom. “You don’t want to.” You practically whisper. It isn’t a question. You can tell.

Melissa nods. “I mean, eventually, of course I do. I just…” She sighs, suddenly seeming frustrated with herself as she brushes her hair away from her face. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She finally admits quietly, looking back down at the food she’s picking at. “I mean, imagine if my Ma found out I slept with Joey outta wedlock? She’d have a heart-attack and then if I got pregnant… I love him, Y/N, I do, and I want to be with him like that I just…it doesn’t feel right.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, Mel. That you don’t feel right with.”

“If you don’t come with us to South Carolina, I will.” She answers.

You bristle. You reach across the table and grip Melissa’s hands firmly between your own. You meet her gaze with your own readily when she looks back up. “If Joey ever, ever, puts his hands on you when you tell him you don’t want him to; you call me.” You say with every ounce of sincerity.

Melissa blinks at you, her eyes wide in surprise that you would imply defending her. Despite her doing exactly the same with Mikey at prom. “He wouldn’t.” She finally manages to say.

You agree, but you also see the tinge of fear in your best friend's expression. She trusts Joey, but there’s always that little bit of doubt. You both trusted Mikey too. Maybe not as much as Joey but still. You had. Yet he took advantage anyway. “If he ever does, Melissa. You call me.” You repeat as you squeeze her hands lightly.

She nods. “You know you’d be the first one to know.” She finally agrees.

“I’ll come with you on the trip if you would really feel more comfortable.” You say as you finally release her hands.

“You will? Even if Joey will be a little snot about it?”

You scoff. “I can handle Joey being an asshole.” You assure swiftly. “If you want me there, I’m there. Joey will deal with it.”

Melissa smiles, launching into filling you in on all the itinerary she’s been planning out for the trip. By the time you’re both leaving the cafeteria you’re reluctantly agreeing to her plans to take surfing lessons that Joey had vetoed before. 

Before Myrtle Beach and the senior week trip; you have to get through graduation. Which for the most part is easy. The last week of school doesn’t present anything really challenging wise from your classes. Your teachers know there’s little point in testing or quizzing your senior class by now. Though some do still attempt to get you to learn at least slightly in your last week. Others are perfectly content to wheel the television cart into the classroom and put a VHS on for your class to talk over. 

When the actual ceremony comes; you’re more nervous. You have both your mother and Melissa check your stole over your graduation gown as well as the fit of your cap multiple times. As if it wasn’t a process to ensure the correct sizes weeks ago anyhow. Still, you’ll be standing in front of your whole school for your valedictorian speech. Popularity and looks may not have been something you were ever particularly concerned with through the last four years but you’d like to avoid looking like an idiot on that scale still.

When it comes time for your speech; you feel the nerves fall away and settle into your ability to focus on what you feel is important to say. You’d worked hard on your speech; your last farewell to both your school and classmates. It also serves to say the same on behalf of your graduating class. You wanted it to resonate. Falling comfortably into the words you’d written; you aren’t certain if it does or not. You feel like you blink and you’re at the end of the speech.

Once you finish, Melissa is the only one of your graduating class that doesn’t toss her cap in the air. She’s too busy cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting her support for you. She’s still wearing the cap a few minutes later when she all but barrels into you to hug you tight. You return her grip, your smile hurting your face when she tells you how wonderful you’d done up there.

Instead of staying out like plenty of your other new graduate friends do; you go out to dinner with Melissa, both your families, and Joey, too. You stay the night at Melissa’s like a thousand other nights before, your packed suitcase repacked by the redhead who had said no to about half of what you packed. You at least convinced her to leave the sunscreen in your suitcase before the two of you went to bed.

The next morning, you’re throwing both yours and Melissa’s bags in the back of Joey’s truck where his own are already at. You hug Melissa’s mom, telling her to pass half of it along to your own and remind her you’re only gone for a week. She hugs you back just as tightly and whispers a thank you for taking care of Mel. You don’t answer the sentiment other than a small nod. A silent ‘of course, why wouldn’t I?’

You’re hardly surprised halfway through the near nine hour drive that Mel is asleep, leaning against you from her spot in the middle of the cab of the truck. You’d told her it would happen when she was nudging you awake in the middle of the night because she was too excited about getting to the beach and having a week of no responsibilities with the newfound, if temporary, freedom of graduation.

What you’re slightly surprised by is Joey, suddenly piping up from his spot in the driver’s seat. He had been content to worry about driving while you and Melissa controlled the radio, singing along a bit obnoxiously to the songs you really liked and talking over the ones that weren’t favorites. Now that Melissa is asleep, his voice fills the cab. Not loud, or trying to wake up his girlfriend but loud enough to get your attention.

“You didn’t have nothin’ better to do for senior week?”

Joey doesn’t ask it meanly, or snidely. He sounds as casual as if he was asking if you heard what the weather will be in Myrtle Beach while you’re there. Except you know his meaning. You know it’s his way of saying you should have stayed home, or that he would have preferred you had.

“Mel practically insisted I come.” You answer in a matching tone. You don’t say it any differently than if you were saying it was supposed to be sunny nearly every day you were there, and not too hot. You hope he catches the meaning you hide beneath the casual tone. 

“She can handle being said no to, y’know.” Joey answers.

“Can you?” You throw out, looking over a head of red hair to glare at Joey.

He glances away from the highway to look at you for a brief moment before he turns back to watching where he’s driving. “I’m not an asshole.” He finally answers.

You don’t answer, though you drop your glare from the side of his head. Focusing instead on the view from your passenger window.

“I love her, Y/N.” Joey says after a long bout of silence filling the truck cab.

You bite your tongue, sensing he has more he feels he needs to say.

“I know I ain’t as smart as you.” Joey continues after a moment, as you thought he might. “I didn’t get straight A’s, hell, I graduated by the skin of my teeth and we both know I cheated on a test or midterm or finals more than once.” He admits.

“What’s your point, Joey?” You sigh, looking back to him.

“I see how you look at her, y’know?”

Your brow furrows. You had thought he was trying to plead his case about not taking advantage of Melissa. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I ain’t a genius, but I ain’t stupid, Y/N.” He answers, glancing back to you for a few seconds again. “I wouldn’t do anythin’ Mel didn’t wanna do. Even if I’m…ready for more in our relationship. I love her. I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Okay…?” You drag out, more confused the more Joey talks.

He meets your eyes briefly before he looks back to the road again. “I won’t give you a chance.” He finally says. Not in a mean way but just…factual. “I won’t mess up what me and Mel got. Even if it ain’t like what you have with her. It’s good, really good, and I love her.”

You sober, the furrow of your brow eases as you lean back in your seat. You suddenly understand. Joey knows what you realized at prom. Maybe he knew it before you realized it yourself. Your love for Melissa is more than friends, and maybe has always been. You sigh.

“Joey.” You start. “I’m not your competition.” You shrug. “I’m not sabotaging your relationship with Mel by being here. I’ve never tried to, and I won’t now. As long as you keep her happy, and take care of her? I’m not your competition. All I want is for Melissa to be happy and treated right. And she is. You think I don’t get my ear talked off about you all the time?”

Joey laughs. “You think she don’t do the same to me ‘bout you? Christ, I think I knew your valedictorian speech myself before you even gave it.”

In spite of yourself, you smile. Sure, there’s the smallest of stabs in your heart if you think about it for too long. What you feel and what it means. What you really want, what you’re missing out on. Except, the larger part of you feels warm. Warm with Melissa leaning against your shoulder sleeping soundly. Warm with the knowledge that even if it isn’t in the same way she does care about you deeply. Warm with the knowledge that you and Joey are just two people that love the same person. How upset can you really be when he wants exactly what you want for Melissa? Whatever she wants and needs to be happy. You can’t blame Joey for being protective of his relationship with her. You would be too if you were him. You are in your way about your friendship with her.

“You should talk to her about it yourself,” You say after a moment, “but she told me she isn’t ready for what you were wanting this trip to be.”

Joey is quiet for a long time before he nods. “Yeah. I kinda figured that one out.” He shrugs. “Just wish she woulda said that. ‘Stead of beating around the bush about it all, y’know?”

“Like I said…you should talk to Mel about it yourself. I’ll get lost on the beach for a while if you need me to.” You offer.

Joey grins and shakes his head. “Nah. Let’s just have a good week, huh? When we get back we’re gonna have to worry about being adults and all that other shit.”

“One last stupid teenage hurrah, huh?”

“Damn right.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #somethin stupid

[stickyspeckledlight]

Happy Birthday; I’ve Made an Appleseed Cake [Yan!Aventurine x GN!Reader]

It’s his birthday; a very happy day.

Ao3

Word count: 2.2k

TW: Stockholm syndrome, toxic relationships, codependency, the gore is very mild this time around but there’s still just a little bit poking out its head, emotional manipulation, hazmat suits needed to navigate this relationship, tooth rotting fluff (haha see what I did there), there isn’t much cake in this story sorry for the misleading title 😔

Note: I’m two hours late but happy birthday to Aventurine! I wrote this over the course of yesterday and stuff and solely on my phone so. If there’s something glaring that’s why. My phone isn’t really what I prefer to write with, but life’s life.

(Written before 2.2)

When he comes back from work, the last thing he expected was for you to lunge at him. 

It was sudden. You froze in surprise, looking at him with a dull, decomposing gaze, frowning in contrast to his smile at the sight of you. A picturesque deer in headlights, seconds away from the afterlife, from its body getting skinned and devoured. It spends its existence solely eating and raising fawn; perhaps not an unfulfilling existence, but not one with much meaning, much else to it besides a single minded pursuit to survival. If it’s lucky, it’ll rot into the ground, infested with maggots feasting on delicious rot. If they’re not, parts of them are stuffed into plastic, the rest placed on a dinner table. In a way, it reminds him of home. 

He was planning to pepper you with burning kisses in his arms, but then he was on the ground. Granted, he did let it happen, but could you blame him? He just had to see what you were planning, especially this out of the blue!

You do not smile or frown. You wear a pretty porcelain mask, even if it’s cracking. Strangely, he can’t quite get a read on you. Interesting. It’s a little silly, however, given that you’re wearing your pajamas. You must’ve woken up recently.

“This is a weird way to say ‘welcome back,’ isn’t it?” 

You blink. He can tell you stifle a yawn. 

He clicks his tongue. Are you stunned, perhaps? Your instincts have always been to freeze rather than run, so either your mind has gone blank or you’re currently engaged with a feverish inner monologue. He knows you’ll get where you need to go eventually, but he’s always been a little impatient. He decides to give you a bit of encouragement. “What’s with that face?” He pinches your cheeks and shapes them into an unamused smile, “Mmn, much better. Now, repeat after me: ‘Welcome home, Aventurine!’ Don’t you think it’s what I’m owed after such a long day of work?”

You begin to shake. Your chest expands, your breathing quickens. A deer, pushed to the brink, pawing at the ground in order to charge straight into the predator’s jaws. He trails his hand to your pulse to find it beats wildly. Good. You’ve gotten a little closer to your destination. Just a little farther, alright? He’ll keep pace, of course. It’s not like he can let you think you can get away with these things forever. Bits and pieces of cracking porcelain fall onto his face.

His eyes narrow, “Sweetheart,” the endearment slithers off his tongue, “any plans you’d like to tell me about?” He moves to sit up, that way he looks down at you, sweet, kind, pathetic thing you are. “You know how much I hate it,” He decides to have his ascent be slow and steady, “when you keep secrets from me.” His hand ghosts your chest, prepared rip them out if need be. “Of course, you can keep them, but all I ask is to make sure you don’t disappoint me, with whatever you’re thinking about,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “In fac—”

A snort. He pauses, raising an eyebrow with intrigue. Your mouth begins to wobble.

“haaapeburffdei.” You quickly exhale, the shaking of your body increasing.

“Huh?” He blinks and fully sits up. He secures you by the shoulders as you duck your head. “Mind repeating that?” 

You take in a sharp breath, shaking your head. “Ha…” you breathe, “happ…” and you shake again. At this point, he’s a little concerned. 

“Sweetheart? Did you sniff glue or something?” You tend to cling to levity, so he gives it. It makes you drop your guard for a brief moment, and from there he can unravel y—

“Happy birthday, Aventurine!” You wheeze, before laughing and giving him a tight, desperate hug.

Ah, so that’s what it was. He makes an educated guess of the events at hand:

His sudden arrival caught you off guard (since he usually came later in the day)

You were stunned and left processing his appearance, not at all helped by you having just woke up

But you could suppress your instinctual excitement and joy, which just so happened to manifest in your lunging toward him and pinning him to the ground

At some point, you realize that, oh, you really were in the presence of your awful, cruel, and amazing boyfriend! 

However, you dug your grave with the straight face you started out with. Instead of clarifying things, you decided to maintain it to try and hide your embarrassment 

You crack under no pressure and reveal your intentions. It tracks with your horrid poker face.

You are now very embarrassed but very, very humored and happy

Even he was sometimes a little dizzy going through your woeful mental gymnastics. But he nevertheless greatly enjoys the process. It makes him feel just a little bit full, for just a little bit.

But. Did, did he hear that right? Did he really hear—

A kiss, a cover for voracious fangs, presses against his cheek. “Happy, happy, happy birthday, to my favorite person in the entire room, corridor, starship, planet, world, universe, multiverse, reality…!” you giggle, drunk on joy due to perceived joy. You sigh contentedly, “Ah~. What a great day to be alive…A~ven~tu~rine~, the worst and best person I’ve ever known…mmm~” you nuzzle your cheek against his own, continuing your lovesick and nonsensical blabberings (he’s guilty of greatly enjoying them). Yes—you’re alive. Your chest is flush against his as if they are one, your legs straddle him as if they are nails pinning him to the ground, and your heart beats fast with simple happiness. Utterly full of life; life you struggle to muster without him. It’s not a good thing, but it makes him happy you feel the same way he does every single day. 

His smile is multiple things: euphoria that the mere thought of him has you this excited and overjoyed, delighted confusion at your antics, and blood raining in his body as a conflict wages within. 

He didn’t listen to his sister and came back. To see her, see his clan, (perhaps) blessed by Gaiathra Triclops with the help of the men in black, surely, surely, SURELY they had to have been alive…? Surely, the Katicans paid their blood debts…? 

Surely, his fortune would extend to his family?

But Kakavasha was gifted lifeless eyes. Soon enough, the quicksand swallowed, and the rain washed everything away.

(He has never celebrated his birthday since)

“Aventurine?” He feels a small series of soft pats (lashes of a whip) to his cheeks, “What’s wrong?”

He blinks and lolls his head boyishly, the same way he does whenever someone asks too many questions, “So, who told you about my birthday? An owl? A jewel?”

You are not fooled, but decide to answer his question anyway, “You told me when we were still getting to know each other. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have remembered it if I didn’t keep record of every birthday I know.”

“You record the birthdays of everyone you know?”

You lift your cheek from his (he mourns the loss), and settle your head on his chest, looking up at him. “Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious, “how else do I remember? Besides, it was a good way to be polite to people around me, and also still let me have plausible deniability. I didn’t remember that thing by heart or anything,” you lid your eyes slightly unimpressedly, “I’m surprised you don’t know. I was convinced you scrubbed everything on my phone and computer.”

“I did,” he plays with a strand of your hair, mesmerized by the way it looks in cloudy light, “but as much as I love getting to know you, even I have my limits, dearest. I don’t have three sets of arms and eyes.”

“Mhm…” You slightly deflate; you truly want him to cradle you in his stomach, laughing as you melt into acid. Sigh, him too, him too, sweetheart. But life’s quite the cruel thing, isn’t it? 

Then you lift your head from his chest, and slot your foreheads together. Or course. You know better than to drop something brimming with potential; especially when it could fill your stomach and give it a temporary fullness. “Really, Aventurine,” you soften your eyes, brimming with worry and insatiable love, “If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you,” you take his hand, your left hands, and intertwine your fingers, “then I won’t know what’s making you sad, and if I don’t know what’s making you sad, I might make you sad again. I really don’t wanna do that.”

How sweet. How very, very sweet. His hand snakes to your collar, to unveil your lucky charm. His mouth waters.

You frown and put your hand over his own. “You’re zoning out again,” you mutter. That’s right. You can tell just how uncomposed he really is whenever he’s around you, so heart achingly sweet that he is driven to devour; so breathtakingly [pathetic] he is driven to lock you away from the sun so no one but him can put a bullet through your skull, can adore and take care of you, can leave you alone and longing, can wrap you in cold chains (made of silk and jewels and gold; you have never deserved shackles, and never will). “Please…” you plead, but knowingly or not, you still possess a potent arsenal. You strike him clean through the heart: 

“You know I love you…I love you, Aventurine…so, please let me know, so I don’t ever make you sad again…”

What a dirty trick you’ve used. But who is he to discourage? He plays dirty plenty, so it’s only fair if he lets you, too. Besides, it actually would suit his own desires, right?

Because he too, would love to live a life in your stomach. 

“Alright, alright,” he shrugs, “‘honest communication’ is vitally important to relationships, anyway. Not that I’d let you go over something so minor, but I suppose a bit of…etiquette doesn’t hurt every so often.”

Your eyes light up. “Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”

Although he undeniably feels happy and light, as he nearly always does with you, he cannot escape the way rain drips into him like acid, like blood. 

You two move to the couch, where he tells you. He’s confident about it, of course. He’s sure about it all. But still, no matter what he did, how wonderful he feels in your presence, with his stomach full of you, the cracked pieces rise. 

He doesn’t tell you everything. 

[Admit it, you want to.]

He’s not sure if he should, when it just feels so, so much better to just live with you. 

[No, they’re the reason you talk in the first place! Whew, you must super out of it, if the ‘future’ barely grazes your mind.]

You kiss and lick his tears, a flavor of salty vulnerability spreading on your tongue. You leave a gentle trail of kisses; feathering on his eyelids, soft on his cheek, reassuring on his forehead, possessive on his neck. It’s warm and secure and hellish. The ecstasy from the joy he feels nearly makes him sob again. 

“I’m here,” you reassure, “I’m here, in your arms with you and only ever you,” you chant. Your hand rubs soothing circles into his back, “Thank you for trusting me, Aventurine…thank you so much.” Revenant oaths spill from your lips, “I’ll protect it well. I’ll prove that you made the right choice. I’ll use it so I don’t make you sad again. I’ll be the best person you could’ve told. I’ll be the best person you can tell anything and everything to.”

His organs churn through a wellspring of emotions and memories: disgust, love, reverence, hate, anger, happiness—

“My lucky hound,” he master drawls, “I’ll find a space in my schedule to listen to you.” Kakavasha blinks, and his master’s face morphs into a snarl, “On your knees.” Kakavasha gasps as a boot falls on his head. “You should be worshiping the ground I walk, for being willing to listen to a murderer; a dog to boot. Who else’s going to listen? The cell mates you’ll inevitably kill? Don’t kid yourself, Sigonian scum.”

Love is blinding. 

He smiles and nods. Only you, sweetheart. Only you, and only him. The two of you hold each other in an iron grip. But you’re both hungry.

After a bit of silence, as you two lay on the couch exhausted and spent, you finally speak.

“…I made a birthday cake. Do you just wanna burn it in a bonfire or something?” You ask. “Something like…’from its corpse, arises the flames which cook our s’mores.”

“Then…wouldn’t those just be birthday s’mores? The entire thing becomes pointless then, right?”

“Hm…good point…”

A light chuckle rumbles in his chest. He affectionately scratches your head, “It’s just cake at the end of the day, right? At the end of the day, it’s made just for me. So…it doesn’t have to be burned.” He grins. “At least…not the whole thing.”

“So…that’s what you want to do?”

“Yep.”

You blink, and a wide grin, practically cracking along your face, spreads across your face, “Then let’s do it.”

You two have a lovely, normal, and happy day. Even as rain pours.

#aventurine hsr #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine #destroyed onset #the cake is very good #because for the past [censored] years reader has nothing but time to hone cake skills #it’s the equivalent to ppl getting super obsessed with making bread during the pandemic lol #anyway #this fic really was some good ol tooth rotting fluff huh #I was considering that title but after a while it didn’t quite fit this fic #so we got generic ass title number 36288393939303 #yippeeeee #happy birthday aventurine! #tw Stockholm syndrome

[kyydreamies7]

First Kiss with Nct Dream (hyung line)

kyy note//: im like sleep deprived rn, but let’s not stop the grind🤭💗 anyways hope ya like ittt

mark: you guys are watching a movie after a long day out, you guys been laughing at scenes, cringing, and almost crying, and when talking about crying, it’s mostly you. the movies been going on for a while now, you both have ate your snacks and are now practically cuddling up near each other with the soft blankets lay atop both of you. the movie isn’t rated r at all, it’s rather more on the emotional side. you guys are watching it happily until a kissing scene comes up. the kissing on the screen is pretty intimate. it’s not marks fault that thoughts of you and him recreating that scene bubble up in his little head. he shifts in his seat and blush starts to dust his cheeks, he starts biting his lip contemplating if he should ask you. he’s watching you watch the movie happily. it’s almost like he’s studying you. studying the way you also blush, the way you did your hair today, the way smile slightly at the certain parts, the way you turn to to look at him when you see him staring at you. snap out of it mark! ask her! “can i..” he glances down to your lips, you looking at his and back at his eyes. “can i kiss you?…please?” he finally says with an exhale. “i would really like that now.” you say with a smile before he dives into your lips, kissing them gently. then your arms are around his neck, and his caressing your face lovingly. something’s telling you both this won’t be only a one time thing.

renjun: you somehow end up asleep on his lap, your phone by your side and his in his hand. he’s now pausing the video he was on to look down at you. he’s smiling at the comfortable state you’re in, your soft breathing, your placid face, not to admit the way you hug up to him, the fact that you even feel comfortable doing stuff like this with him! he’s just renjun, just plain old renjun. wait. why is he thinking about this, you’re his best friend, why is he staring at you with such intent?? he tries to catch himself, but you seem to have other plans. “renjun?…” you open your eyes and say, eyes darting up to the ones staring back above you. you see the way he’s looking at you, it isn’t just aimless, it’s full of something, and you’re sure you’re starting to feel it too. you both look each other in the eyes, he gets closer to your face. should he do it? what if— you lean up and connect your lips with his. he pulls away. he then goes back in for another, then another, then— now you guys are making out. woohoo!

jeno: you guys are a new couple and have been dating for at least 2-3 weeks now, but you’ve wanted to take it slow and be careful with it. you didn’t want to move too fast and mess something up so that’s how it’s been for the past weeks. you guys are out on a date at the park, somewhere with a beautiful outside exterior. the sun is shining on you, the flowers are bloomed fully, the birds are singing out, and there are kids laughing and playing around in the distance. you both are sitting on a park bench watching some kids play tag in the area, before he gets up. he walks off and crouches down in front of a flower bed. you tilt your head at him, wondering what he could be possibly doing. “what are you doin, nono?” you say with a hint of confusion. he pulls something up and then comes back over to you with a sweet smile. he holds a colorful flower near your face, it’s so beautiful. “i wonder who the real flower is?” he says. you giggle, finding his cheesy line funny. he then puts the flower behind your ear and caresses your cheek gently whilst staring at you lovingly. you look back up at him, leaning into his touch. he smiles wide before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “you’re so beautiful, sweets.” he mumbles out. “thanks ba—“ he leans down to kiss you, you freezing but then you start moving your lips with him. both of your lips moving slowly together. what a beautiful day.

haechan: he’s over at your place and you both are just chatting it out as usual. just one of those hours of the day where you both gossip, rant, talk about old times, shows, humor it out. it started out with you both talking about some old memories that happened at your younger ages, that one time when you fell of your bike and cried until you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore. you actually don’t know why you cried, either because you scuffed your knee or because you failed at riding and haven’t touched a bike since then. don’t know though! he laughs with you, agreeing with your stories, maybe disagreeing because he feels as if you’re making fun of him at certain parts. such a baby. he starts telling the dumbest jokes, even worse, they’re dad jokes. you groan out at most of them, sometimes cringing, then also laughing because you find his corny little jokes humorous. you guys then start talking about your love life in the past and nowadays. you tell him about how you haven’t found your special person yet and you’re just waiting for them to fall out the sky. ‘what if your special person was right in front of you this whole time? what if you didn’t have to wait?’ he thought all of a sudden. his eyes start trailing down to your lips, him watching your plush lips move, imagining how it would feel on his. while he’s zoned out on your lips you start to notice he’s not paying attention to you talking. you’re about to clear your throat to gain back attention, but then you see what all his attention is going to. your lips. was he watching you talk, just to see the way your lips were moving? affirmative! “haechan?” you speak out, snapping him out of his trance. he sends you multiple apologies trying to cover up until you ask him, “do you wanna kiss me channie?” and suddenly it’s quiet. that doesn’t stop him from nodding his head though. with a smile and some pink, dusted cheeks you both kiss and to you guys surprise, you both like it. it won’t hurt to steal another right?

#nct #idol x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream hyung line #kyydreamies7 #mark lee #lee haechan #lee jeno #huang renjun #mark lee x reader #huang renjun x reader #lee jeno x reader #lee haechan x reader #x you #x you fluff

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Avocado & The Turnip (The Surprise, Part 8)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pregnancy times, fluffy fluff, kind of hurt/comfort (?), mentions of some pretty horrific crimes (duh), gunshot wound, some explicit language Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: A series of hard cases puts a strain on your relationship with Emily. Anxieties run high on both sides, and the reality of Emily's job–and the risks the come with it–feel even more real than usual now that there's going to be a child in the picture.

Week 16: The Avocado

“I just don’t know what to say to him,” Emily exclaimed, resting her chin on your stomach, a worried look on her face.

Your plans for an adorable evening of talking to the baby had backfired. For unknown reasons, Emily had come home in a bad mood, anxious and on edge. Somehow, the news that the baby could likely hear you now had only made her more anxious.

“You can say anything, Em. She’s the size of an avocado. She’s not gonna remember what we say; she’s gonna remember our voices.”

You ran your fingers through Emily’s hair, trying your best to alleviate some of her stress. You’d meant for this to be good news, to be a fun, cute little moment she could have with you and the baby after a brutal day at work.

“Tell her about your day,” you suggested.

Emily glared at you, and you felt yourself shrink. “I can’t tell him about my day!” she yelled, her voice angry. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, little man! I have to leave you tomorrow to go find a guy who’s murdering teenage boys by ripping their throats out with his teeth and then eating them. But don’t worry, I’ve only had to deal with, oh, ten or so cannibals over the years. The chances of you being cannibalized are slim. Never zero though!”

In your head, you knew that Emily’s outburst had nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the baby, and everything to do with the horrendous things she saw at work. She tried very hard not to bring work home with her, not to carry the weight of the horrors she saw every day into your house. But sometimes they stuck to her. Sometimes they dragged her down, and she couldn’t quite shake them. But it wasn’t often that she was mean. She hardly ever raised her voice at you. She knew it scared you.

You sat up and placed a hand protectively over your stomach, trying to keep your face set, impassive, but flinching a little as Emily moved toward you.

She was instantly full of regret. Her face fell as she noticed that your posture had changed from open to defensive, noticed the way your eyes had glazed over–a remnant of trauma.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she breathed, cupping your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You softened when you saw that she was close to crying–a rarity for Emily–and pulled her head to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled against you. “It was just a hard day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” she asked, lifting her head a bit.

“Tell me,” you insisted. “I can handle it. You’re my wife. You had a bad day. I want to hear about it.”

Emily shook her head, her voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear. “No, you don’t.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin so she was looking in your eyes. “I can decide what’s too much for me, okay?” You rubbed your thumb back and forth along her cheek. “If I say I can handle it, I need you to believe me.”

Emily sighed, exhaling shakily. “You remember after we started dating?” she explained, her voice low. “And I had a really hard time at work because every victim who was a woman made me think of you?”

“I remember,” you answered. And you did. If there had ever been a time in your relationship when you would’ve broken up with Emily, that would have been it. She’d been angry, on edge, paranoid, and even more obsessive about work than usual. It had eventually gotten so bad that you’d given her an ultimatum–start going to therapy or this isn’t going to work. Nearly six years later, Emily still had a biweekly standing appointment with her therapist–unless, of course, she was in the field.

She played with your fingers, quiet for a moment. “It feels like that all over again, but with kids. Child victims are hard anyway, but… every tiny body I see, I just think of him and–” Her voice broke, and you held her a little tighter. “It scares the shit out of me.”

“Of course it does,” you assured her. “That just means you love her, baby. It means you’re gonna be a great mom. It makes sense that those cases hit closer to home right now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take it out on you. Or him.”

You exhaled slowly, kissing the top of her head again. “When was your last appointment with Angie?”

Emily sat up, stretching, and shrugged, looking guilty. “Last month, maybe? I just–I’ve been out on cases and…”

“I know, baby,” you said, taking her hands in yours before she could start biting her nails. “It’s okay. But, maybe you should call her and see if she can get you in. Even tonight, you know? Before you leave tomorrow. She does telehealth, doesn’t she?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

She still looked guilty and nervous. It broke your heart.

“Come here,” you said, tugging her onto your lap. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and hugged you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. And for your part–you held on like you’d never, ever let her go–and you never, ever would.

Week 17: The Turnip

“She what!?” you yelled into the phone, launching yourself off the couch and scrounging around in the junk drawer for your keys.

“Calm down, mama,” Derek soothed through the phone. “It’s just a surface wound. The bullet grazed her shoulder, that’s all.”

“That’s all!? My wife gets shot, and you’re telling me that’s all!?”

You heard a scuffle on the other end of the phone, a distant, sharp Give me the phone! and then there was Emily’s voice, flooding you with relief.

“Honey, I’m fine, I promise,” she said, and she certainly didn’t sound like she was dying.

“You got shot!”

“Just a little bit…” Her voice was sheepish.

You threw up your hands in frustration. “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! You have a child coming. You can’t be getting shot!”

“I know, I know.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “What hospital are you at?”

“No, baby, you don’t need to come,” she protested.

“Don’t need to come, my ass,” you grumbled. “Where are you?”

Another scuffle and Derek had the phone back. “Y/N. Hey. We’re just in Baltimore, alright? She’ll probably be discharged here in a few minutes, and I’ll bring her home.”

You were still a little suspicious. “Straight home?”

“You have my word.”

It was the longest hour and a half of your life, sitting on the couch, watching the Find My dot of Emily inch its way home. You frowned when you saw her stop at El Rinconcito. That little shit. She was trying to buy you off with pupusas. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Your stomach rumbled. Well, it might work a little bit.

A half hour later, you heard the door unlock. Derek held it open for a very guilty looking Emily, who walked through the threshold with her arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands fluttering all over her, gingerly touching the bandage and turning her face this way and that to check for more damage.

“I’m fine, honey,” she said, pressing her good hand to your face and kissing you.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, unconvinced. “Tell that to your unborn child.”

Emily crouched down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “Mommy’s just fine, little guy, don’t you worry.”

It was so cute, you couldn’t even be that mad.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Derek said, gesturing to the couch. “Get comfortable and let Uncle Derek take care of you.”

You grimaced, thinking of straight people things. “Eew.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Not like that. Sit down and eat your pupusas, woman.”

You and Emily giggled, plopping yourselves on the couch, one on either side.

Derek threw blankets at you, and you got yourselves situated, your legs tangled in the middle. Derek plated the takeout and brought it to you.

“I could get used to this,” Emily said, taking a bite and running her foot up and down your leg.

“You better fucking not,” you mumbled through a bite of pupusa. “I don’t want you getting shot every time you want a lazy day.”

Derek brought you both glasses of water and set a bottle of pain meds on the side table next to Emily.

“Anything else I can do for you, ladies?” he asked. “Foot rub? Serenade? Grocery run?”

You smiled at him. He was so good to you. Both of you. “You’re gonna make some straight woman very happy.”

He bent down to ruffle your hair and to squeeze Emily’s good hand. “I’ll settle for my favorite lesbians for now. You need anything else before I go?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I think we’ll be okay. Thanks, Morgan.”

“Anytime, Prentiss,” he replied, giving her a small salute as he walked out the door. "Call me if you need anything."

The moment he left, you shot a glare at Emily. 

“What?” she said, trying and failing to shrug, thanks to her injured shoulder.

You couldn’t help the worried expression that took over your face.

“Please tell me you’re careful,” you pleaded, brushing a few unexpected tears from under your eyes.

“Y/N.” She sat up, alarmed, and reached for your hand. “I’m careful. I swear.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she reassured, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand.

“We need you, Em,” you whispered, placing your other hand over your baby bump.

She winced a little as she moved forward, pulling your face toward her so she could stroke your cheek. “I’m never reckless, honey. I do everything I can to stay safe. I promise. I will always come home to you.”

You were quiet as she pressed her forehead to yours, breathing in the smell of her, the warmth. You both knew it was a promise she couldn't make, not with her job. But you needed Emily to understand that it wasn't just her she was staying safe for anymore. It was you and the little one, who deserved to grow up with both of her moms.

“Sometimes it scares me how much I love you,” you said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear.

Emily kissed your forehead, then pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle. “Me too.”

She pecked you on the lips again, then brushed her thumb over your bottom lip. “But you don’t need to be scared today, okay?”

She smiled a little, and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Now, eat your pupusas,” she grinned, pinching your cheek.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[sturniolo-rat]

Cake Eater’s Delight

Matt Sturniolo X Reader

A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.

Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs

TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most

Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.

Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.

“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face. 

“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?” 

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”  

He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.  

Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals. 

“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family. 

As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”

He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”

“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.

Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”

“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”

He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”

“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”

“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”

“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.

Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail. 

Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance. 

“A bear!” Matt yells.

“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”

He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.

When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned. 

They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”

“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.

“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”

“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.      

When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement.  She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.

“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.” 

They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.” 

“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose. 

“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”

“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose. 

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”

“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”

Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."

“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful. 

In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.” 

Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”

“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared. 

He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”

“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”

“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail. 

“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.

“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I swear.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”

“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide. 

Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself. 

“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”

Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got. 

“You can go faster now.”

“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace. 

“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony. 

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.

“I can try.”

“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?” 

“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling. 

“Like that?”

Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!” 

Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole. 

Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”

“Perfectly planned, My love.”

Masterlist

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[rylie-m]

redemption

Summary: In which Y/N Thomas is left to raise her and Rafe Cameron’s baby after he refuses to take responsibility for it. He shows up after two years, ready to redeem himself, but is it too late?

Chapter 2:

After dropping Crew off at daycare, you start to walk towards the cafe that you agreed to meet Rafe at. You had fully thought you’d gotten rid of Rafe for good after his visit in the hospital when Crew was born, but he looked mature now and you were sure he thought that he was much more mature now than ever.

 Of course, Crew knows exactly who Rafe is, he’s seen pictures of him and he knows that he has a dad. He knows his Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, and Aunt Wheezie very well. You figured that Ward and Rose knew who Crew was, and you had told Sarah to tell them about Crew if they asked, but she said that they had yet to ask. That’s why you were so unsure to bring Crew to meet Rafe this time around, depending on what Rafe had to say, you were willing to let them meet. You knew Crew, you knew his personality, and he would either love, or be terrified of Rafe the first time meeting him. 

With you being a single mom from the beginning, Crew was rarely around older men. Your father and John B were probably the only older men he interacted with, and they had both been around since the beginning. Crew knew a few of your friends' boyfriends, but you didn’t really bring Crew around men very often, there just weren’t many opportunities to. 

As you turned the corner, you saw heard Rafe’s big GMC truck pull into the parking lot, and decided that you’d wait for him so that you could walk in together. After a minute or so, Rafe sees you and starts walking to you. He looks really good. You internally groan at yourself because that was the first thing you thought of. 

He smiles at you and puts his hands in his pockets, “Hey, thank you for meeting me.” He says, feigning confidence. You smile tightly, “Hey, Rafe.” He goes to open the door and holds it open for you, walking in after you. After you both order- with Rafe paying for both of you- you find a table and sit in awkward silence across from each other. 

He takes a shaky breath before starting, “Listen, I wanted to apologize for everything-” You cut him off before he can go any further, “Don’t. I don’t need an apology. You sent money- even after I sent it back. You did what you said you were going to do, there’s no reason to apologize for it.” You say, matter of factly. He visibly deflates and exhales a long breath. “There’s no excuse for what I did though-” You cut him off again, shaking your head, “Rafe, you were 20, that’s an excuse in itself. I didn’t expect you to stay.” He furrows his brows and looks away, then in a quiet voice asks, “What’s he like?” You smile to yourself and start to talk about Crew. It’s obvious to Rafe that he is your whole world. 

After a while of catching up, talking about Crew, and making plans for dinner with him while Rafe is still in town, Rafe has to leave to go to a conference. Rafe stands awkwardly, and holds his arms out shyly. You smile lightly and give him a short hug. He still smells just like he did back then, clean, expensive, coastal. 

3 days later, you’re making dinner while Crew plays with his blocks on the kitchen floor when the doorbell rings. You take a deep breath, preparing for Crew to meet his father for the second time, and the first time that really counts. You smile at Crew and fix his hair, “Do you wanna help momma answer the door?” He nods quickly and jumps up from the floor. 

You look out the window that Crew’s face isn’t smushed against to see Rafe pacing, holding flowers and a suspiciously big box. He turns around and sees Crew’s face squished against the glass, and they make eye contact. You open the door, and Rafe pulls away from his son's curious blue eyes. 

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hey, come in.” You say, pulling away from the door to let him in.

Crew is now hidden behind your legs, eyeing Rafe curiously. With his little brows furrowed and the slight pout on his face, he looks just like you, Rafe thinks. 

“Crew, honey, this is Rafe Cameron.” You say, picking him up. “He’s gonna be eating dinner with us.” He talks softly, leaning in slightly to talk to Crew, “Hey buddy,” He smiles, trying to soften himself, though it clearly doesn’t work because Crew’s brows scoop deeper towards the center of his face and he immediately ducks his face into your neck. Suddenly, the flowers in Rafes hands feel like they’re going to explode and the box of trains that he got Crew feel more equal to a 600 pound weight. 

You smile, reassuringly at Rafe, who is very clearly trying to connect, “He gets like this, especially around guys. Just give him some time and he’ll come around.” He nods and you show him into the living room, “Sorry he likes to spread his toys out everywhere,” Then you remember the box in his hand, “What is that?” He sets it down, taking it out of the bag, “Trains.” He says, trying not to sound nervous. Crew perks up slightly at that and looks at the bag, examining it. “And flowers, for you.” He states, holding them out, and Crew goes right back to where he was. 

You set Crew down and he immediately finds the fabric of your dress to hold in his hands while you take the flowers, “Thank you. I’m going to go find a vase, and dinner’s almost ready. Do you want a drink or anything?” He sits uncomfortably in the light blue armchair with a knitted yellow blanket with tiny sailboats on the hem, and shakes his head. You nod and lean down to face Crew, “Momma’s gonna be right in the kitchen, okay? Then I’ll be right back.” As Rafe observes you, he remembers vividly that it was the same comforting voice that nursed him back to health in his old room in Chapel Hill, when he woke up with food poisoning while being violently hungover. 

You disappear behind a set of opened double doors, while Crew and Rafe stay frozen in place. Crew looks at Rafe, watching him, while Rafe tries not to make any sudden movements. Rafe moves his hand to the box of trains, slowly and speaks gently, “I heard you liked planes, and trains. I tried to look for a bunch of planes, but couldn’t find them. So, I hope you can settle for trains.” He turns the front of the box towards Crew, showing him the pictures of the collection of plastic toy trains. Crew eyes Rafe, then points to the box, “Trains?” He says, in a tiny voice, his R being replaced with a slight W. Rafes eyes light up and he nods, “Trains.” You walk in, unknowingly ruining Rafe’s only chance that Crew would give him so far, as Crew immediately finds your dress to hold again. You sit on the cream couch and Crew scrambles to sit next to you, on the cushion furthest from Rafe. The whole night goes by just like that. Making awkward conversation about work and family with Rafe over spaghetti and Crew staying as far away from Rafe as humanly possible, even when you tried to encourage him to play with the trains Rafe got him. Unbeknownst to you and Rafe, Crew woke up this morning and now had more of an interest in sailboats. 

After an awkward 2 hours of Rafe trying to interact with Crew, and Crew having none of it. The little boy went down for his nap. That’s the first excuse you give to Rafe, explaining why the little boy wanted nothing to do with his dad. The next excuse is probably more likely, and unfortunately, news you’ll have to break to Rafe. 

“He’s sweet, but he hates me.” Rafe says, disappointed. Still sitting in the chair you left him in before Crew fell asleep. You wonder if it’s with himself or with you for not trying to create more contact from Crew to Rafe. You sit on the chair next to him, “Rafe, I think there’s something you need to know if you plan on sticking around.”

hi everyone, sorry this took soooo long, i've been really busy :( but i hope you like this!

#redemption #rafe cameron x reader

[simplydannie]

Inspired by and written for @gabykatttt! You know I had to add a little drama to it lol

Brozone is invited back to Mount Rageous as special guests for a singing competition where they will each mentor a young contestant.

Only thing they didn’t know: Floyd’s apprentice is someone they didn’t expect… and definitely don’t approve of.

●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

“Alright so let’s see here! My lovely Rageon is a boy named Taize, interesting!” John Dory flipped through the file,”Seems like the kid has spunk!” He handed his brothers their files. Brozone sat inside Rhonda on another trip to Mount Rageous, except this time, it was on better terms. Since the events that took place a year ago, Mount Rageous had invited Brozone back to take part of a singing competition and be the guest of honor. Each member would mentor a Rageon who’d be participating.

“Not to brag, but I think my boys got this.” He exclaimed.

Bruce open up his file, “Seems like me and Clay are assigned to two sisters.”

Clay took the file from his brother’s hand, “Glimmer and Gala. They have been doing singing competitions since they were four and winning almost every single one.”

“Sorry, JD, I think me and Clay have this one.” Bruce smirked.

Poppy popped in, a range of emotions whirling through her tiny body, “I can believe this! Brozone is officially back! Not to mention bringing in the next wave of musical talent! Even if they aren’t Troll of course.”

“But this is an opportunity! First Rageous, then the rest of the Troll kingdom!” JD announced, “Not to mention that Rageous officially extended the invitation to ALL Trolls and Bergens alike.”

“Whoa! So, this could really be big for us?” Clay responded glancing at all his brothers.

“Time for Brozone to get back on the map!” Bruce pumped, “Oh! Floyd? We didn’t even get to hear who you and Branches Rageon is.”

Floyd fiddled with the small file in his hands. He already knew who he had gotten to mentor, he wasn’t sure Branch would be okay with it though.

“You sure you don’t want to mentor your own kid, Branch?” Floyd asked again.

“Nope. I really would like to do this one with you Floyd. The two youngest, kicking big brother butt.” Branch crossed his arms and stared smuggly at his older brothers.

“Well good luck with that.” Clay stuck out his tongue earning a laugh from Branch. He turned back to look at Floyd.

“So? Who’s the kid?” Branch asked. Floyd let out a heavy sigh. “Oh come on Floyd. It can’t be that bad can it?” Branch took the file into his own hands.

“Alright let’s see here.” He skimmed the paperwork. “Our kiddo is……Veneer Vincent Montegue.” Branches eyes widened. He looked at Floyd who now had a sheepish smile on his face. “Veneer. As in Velvet and Veneer? You’re not serious Floyd!” The rest of the brothers, including Poppy, gathered around Branch.

“He’s not kidding.” Bruce mumbled.

“This has to be a mistake!” Clay exclaimed.

“Or a trap set up by them again. We can talk to the officials when we get there. We’ll…” JD began.

Floyd interrupted, “No! No, this…This isn’t a mistake. I’m….I requested it.

“WHAT!” Everyone echoed. Was Floyd crazy? Why on Earth would he want to mentor someone who nearly killed him?

“Floyd, the kid doesn’t have talent. That’s why he was using you!” Branch exclaimed.

Floyd scoffed at his remark, “Everyone has talent. It’s in there. And Veneer definitely has it. He just got the wrong inspiration.”

“No way! As the oldest I am not allowing this. His sister is obviously planning something. Veneer has the look of innocence but he’s not.” JD remarked.

“Velvets out of the picture… at least for now.” Floyd stated.

Poppy arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“When their sentence was up, she booked it. Sending tell him anything. Veneer was left completely alone. Other then her he has no family. So… he reached out to me.” Floyd said.

“What!? Like, he mailed to you? And you responded back?” Branch tossed the files on the couch. “And you didn’t think about asking US if we were okay with it?” He was fuming. How could his brother be so naive, so forgiving?

“I have to agree on Branch with this one Floyd, I know you feel for Veneer. Maybe he can be a good kid, but we’re not risking it.” Bruce added.

“Guys please. Listen I knew them before they did what they did. They were misguided, lost. They’re good kids I swear. Look I know what it’s like to walk on you sinking,” He looked at Branch. “I want to do right, I want to show Veneer what true family is about, what it’s liking to live in harmony with your siblings. Let’s do that guys.” Floyd looked back and forth between all his brothers, but he saw the stubbornness in all their eyes… they had made up their mind.

“You….you knew them before their little fame thing?” Poppy asked, earning a nod from the little Troll. “Guys maybe you should trust him. I… I think it’s worth a shot.”

“You can’t be serious Poppy!” Branch exclaimed.

“I’m sure they’ll keep a watchful eye on him. They wouldn’t let him participate in the first place if they didn’t have any protocols.” She added.

“No! I’m sorry Poppy, I know your queen, but I am the big brother. Sorry Floyd, but once we get there, you switch to someone else. End of discussion.” John Dory set his foot down.

Floyd sighed in defeat. He hunched over on the couch, looking at the file. Floyd didn’t bother telling them how excited Veneer had sounded when he mentioned the plan to get him back on his feet. He didn’t want to imagine the look on his face when he’d have to turn on him down. Floyd rode the rest of the trip in silence.

It was another hour until they finally saw the glistening lights shining from the mountain… they were back at Mount Rageous. This time they took the highway that lead them deeper in the glimmering city. They were finally able to see what it was all made of …. And it was stunning. Their buildings were made of gems and fine jewels the trolls have never even seen. Somehow they used these gems to power their technology. The deeper they traveled into Mount Rageous, the more adults they began to see. If they thought the teens were big, the adults were much taller. The Trolls also saw children and infants for the first time in the city.

“Alright, like, do all Rageons have to be good looking.” John Dory scoffed. All eyes turned to Rhonda as she went down the ride. Children giggled and starting chasing after her. Rhonda began getting carried away and playing with the children.

“Hey old girl! We have a destination. You can play later.” JD called out. Hesitantly, she continued down the road until she got to a beautiful park where a stunning stage was set up.

“Looks like this is it.” Clay exclaimed as Rhonda neared the entrance. She stopped, allowing Brozone and Poppy to hop off. It was intimidating at first, being surrounding by such tall beings, but the excitement of the Rageons upon laying eyes on the little Trolls allowed a calmness to overcome them.

“Oh my gosh your Brozone!”

“I loved your performance at the Rage Dome!”

“I’m so glad your brother is okay!”

“Can we have your autograph!”

Rageon upon Rageon came surrounding them. John Dory was overjoyed… finally he and his brothers were getting the recognition he’d dreamed of… not only to be known by the trolls, but world wide, every species chanting their name.

“One at a time guys! There’s plenty of Brozone to go around!” He exclaimed. All the brothers loved the attention, they loved giving autographs. Branch was one who was still getting used to it. If it weren’t for Poppy, he’d probably just shy away in the back. The only little Troll not participating was Floyd. He hung around near Rhonda. His eyes darted around looking for a Rageon with green swooped hair.

“Are you Bruce?” He looked up to see three Rageons staring down around him. Their look fit the description in the files: one boy, dark red skin with flaming orange hair styles in a faux hawk, and two girls, both similar in their blue tinted skin color, except one had peacock colored hair while the other aegean.

“Taize, Glimmer, and Gala I take it.” Floyd responded. The three young Rageons smiled.

“This is soooooo exciting!” Gala chimed.

“I bet. But I’m not Bruce. He’s brother over there. And that’s John Dory.” Floyd pointed out. “I’m Floyd.”

The Rageons gaped, “You were the little guy Velvet and Veneer troll-napped!” Glimmer gasped.

“Hopefully they’re still rotting in jail.” Taize added.

“Y-yeah.” Floyd stammered. Behind him he could hear his brothers approach them.

“Taize I assume! The names John Dory! I’ll be your mentor.”

“And I’m Clay, this is Bruce, were are both you’re lovely ladies mentors.”

Everyone turned to look at Floyd and Branch, “And we will be right back, we just need to have a word with the officials!” Brnach pushed Floyd along to the main tables.

“Branch, I’m asking one more time: Please don’t do this? We can do really good by Veneer hear. If you get to know him Branch, he reminds so much of you.”

“Whoa, whoa, don’t even compare me to him. I don’t go around stealing peoples talent.”

“But Branch…”

“No Floyd! I don’t normally agree with John, but on this one he has my vote. Veneer can cry me a river for all I care.” Branch scoffed.

“Floyd?” A familiar voice sounded from behind them. The two Trolls turned around slowly. Behind them stood a pale Rageon with bright green hair covered in a purple beanie. He wore a golden oversized hoodie over black skinny jeans and purple sneakers: Veneer. He smiled down at the Trolls….but they were speechless. It wasn’t seeing him in casual Rageon attire that through them off….it was the tube connected to his nose, trailing behind him into a backpack. Branch pulled Floyd aside, whsipering to where only he could here.

“What’s wrong with him?” He demanded.

Floyd shurgged, staring wide eyes up at Veneer, “I….I don’t know.” The Rageon didn’t notice their surprised faces as he smiled at them.

“So, I guess, you two are my mentors.” He chimed. Floyd and Branch didn’t respond. For one, they didn’t expect to find Veneer in this state. But no, they couldn’t mentor him, wouldn’t mentor him, he didn’t deserve it….did he?

“Umm…Veneer…there’s something we have to tell you…I’m sorry….” Floyd began. It pained him to do so, to turn away someone who had reached out to him for help… but this was the first time his brothers really agreed on something. If he had to choose between the kid or his brothers, well, it was a no brainer…right?

#trolls band together #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #veneer #velvet and veneer trolls #trolls band together brozone #trolls brozone #brozone #trolls branch #trolls 3 band together #trolls 3 veneer #trolls fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #trolls #veneer trolls #mount rageous #trolls movie #trolls fandom

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-one

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

TW: College admissions. Sorry if you’re going through this now! Also, I went through this a longgggggggg time ago, and I know this isn’t exactly how admissions works, so apologies for creative liberties. I was supposed to post this before Aelin's birthday, but I missed May 3. Just by two days, though, so not too shabby! Okay, lets go. Final stretch, my loves.

“What do you mean you don’t want to celebrate your birthday?” Rowan scoffed. “Ace, you love your birthday.”

Aelin stretched her arms overhead and reached to touch her toes, ignoring the way her boyfriend stared at her with his usual hawklike intensity and instead leaned into her shins, helping relieve the ache from sore and overworked muscles. Dance practices had been relentless on her body, especially with the spring showcase just a few weeks away, she seemed to be in perpetual knots always.

Well, she guessed she couldn’t just blame dance on that. She was having a hard time with everything at the moment. While her friends were smiling and laughing at their last few weeks of high school, Aelin was feeling an acute sense of panic. The weeks following spring break had melted away faster than she could process, gone in the blink of an eye, filled with an onslaught of dance practices and AP exam prep and constantly checking her inbox for that little email notification from Wendlyn. And not nearly enough Rowan, who was spending all his free time with his lacrosse team. Not only that but everyone around her seemed more excited than ever with the prospect of leaving Orynth right around the corner, but with each passing day the knot in her stomach grew tighter. Everything was a ~last~ —and she was having a hard time enjoying that. She didn’t want any of this to be her last. Why was everyone excited that time was moving so fast? Why couldn’t she just freeze right here in this moment. In this limbo things were stressful, but they were still fine. Without knowing what her fate held.

College acceptances had come rolling in, one by one, her friends grinning wildly as they opened their emails. But Aelin’s inbox remained woefully empty. So, she wanted her boyfriend to forgive her for not feeling particularly celebratory, but then again, she hadn’t discussed any of this with him for fear of making him feel guilty about it.

As she breathed into her next stretch, she turned her torso to look back at Rowan, who was still waiting patiently for her response.

“My birthday last year was a disaster,” Aelin finally replied, completely ignoring the real reason she was feeling less-than-enthused. “How quickly they forget.”

But Rowan just rolled his eyes. “That was an exception. I have a feeling that no one is going to get arrested or go to rehab this year. Usually your birthday is all you can talk about for months. Are you really telling me you haven’t planned anything? For your eighteenth birthday?” he asked. “It’s in less than a week.”

Aelin shrugged, leaning to the other side and groaning as she stretched out a particularly tender muscle.

“I just don’t want to do anything this year,” she said. “The spring dance show is in two weeks, and I’ve been practicing every night. So, for my birthday I just want the night off.” She paused. “Is that really so bad?”

“No…” Rowan said quietly, picking up his phone and furrowing his brow. She’d know that face anywhere. He looked concerned.

“What?” she snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Rowan’s face. He didn’t deserve to be the receptacle of her stress or ire. All he wanted was to make sure she had the birthday she wanted. Her sweet, sweet Rowan. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I’m just…”

“Tired?” Rowan filled in, and she nodded and lifted her arms above her head, extending them out for him. He swooped in quickly and helped her to her feet, enveloping her in a warm and comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into her hair, and she could feel her tension melting away with each one of his butterfly kisses.

Aelin finally looked up at him, and his worried green eyes were staring back down at her. “I’m so tired, Ro,” she admitted as she squeezed him against her tighter. “The idea of doing something big for my birthday just seems like so much work.”

“It’s just a big one,” he replied softly. “I don’t want you to regret not celebrating.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said, letting herself melt into his chest fully. His heartbeat helped center her, and she rued the day that she wouldn’t have it there for her at a moment’s notice. “But I just want to hang out with you, eat too much chocolate cake and maybe go to sleep early.”

“So I should tell Lorcan to cancel the surprise trip to the strip club?” Rowan asked. Aelin’s head shot up, and her boyfriend’s answering smirk was telling enough.

“You almost had me there,” she said.

“He tried,” Rowan laughed, “But I shut him down pretty quickly.”

“What kind of strip club are we talking about?” she asked, causing Rowan’s worried expression to disappear, as she intended. As Rowan explained how he had to talk Lorcan off the ledge, Aelin took out her phone and needlessly refreshed her phone over and over. But her inbox remained unchanged.

. . .

“Stay calm and vote Manon and Elide as queens for prom!” Dorian shouted while shoving a rainbow flyer into a passerby’s hands. “A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote against The Man!” he continued, causing Aelin to snort into one of the crown-adorned cupcakes Maeve had contributed to the cause. Dorian had taken it upon himself to run point for Manon and Elide’s prom queen campaign and had recruited Aelin to help him during their shared free period. Not that he needed the help. Orynth High had rallied around the pair of women, and there was no doubt as to who would sweep the vote, but it was still something that Aelin could do without that horrible nauseous feeling taking over her entire body – which might have been helped by the fact that Dorian was also still waiting for a college acceptance email, and so the pair of them were happy to use lifting up their friends as a distraction. Or at least use it as a reprieve from constantly refreshing their email. He’d received a few rejections and was pinning all his hopes on one last college.

“A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote for equality!” he shouted, offering up his own plate of cupcakes to a nearby freshman, who accepted it readily.

As if they’d heard their names called, the pair rounded the corner, hand in hand, smiling softly at each other. Manon pulled away for a second as she tied up her newly dyed turquoise hair into a messy bun, causing Elide to sigh dreamily. Aelin watched as they slid their fingers tighter as they came back together and leaned into each other’s shoulders. They’d both received their acceptances to Perranth, a small liberal arts school nearby, earlier this week and the pair hadn’t stopped smiling since. Aelin was happy for her friends; honestly, she was. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning with jealousy at the fact that they were going off into their post-high school future together.

“Oooh, are those Maeve cupcakes?!” Elide asked, eyeing the funfetti confection in Dorian’s hand. He lifted the plate, offering it up, and Elide wasted no time in grabbing it and shoving half of it into her mouth.

“Sooooo good,” she mumbled around a mouthful of crumbs. Manon rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s enthusiasm and used one of her long nails to brush away a bit of frosting from above her lip. Unable to control herself, she swooped down and kissed the spot she’d cleaned, as if to make sure it was completely free of sugar.

“And I thought Rowan and I were disgusting,” Aelin laughed.

“You are,” her friends all said in unison, not wasting a single beat.

Aelin flipped them all off, burying her face into her own cupcake instead as Manon asked Dorian for a status update on his polling info. She was taking this extremely seriously, and it kind of warmed Aelin’s heart to see her cold friend use her ruthlessness for good. Well, for Elide’s good.

Though they were deep in conversation about numbers and which cliques were voting for whom, Dorian stopped and gasped loudly.

“What?” Manon asked, and Dorian opened his phone and showed it to them.

In bold at the top of his email inbox was a brand new email, waiting in bold from Anielle University with the subject: Dorian Havillard, Application Status.

“Oh my god, OPEN IT!” Manon shouted as she reached for the phone, but Dorian clutched it to his chest in horror.

“NO!”

“No?” Aelin asked, raising a brow in his direction.

“I can’t open this in the middle of the hallway,” he hissed. “What if it’s a rejection?”

Aelin’s chest panged with sympathy. She knew how hard Dorian had worked this year with volunteering at the hospital and all his APs to get into the college of his dreams. Aka, one far away from his father. Anielle was as far as it got, and it was a great school, too. Not to mention it was the last one he was waiting to hear from.

“Do it when you’re ready,” she said. “Don’t let these college admits pressure you,” she continued.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said. He closed his eyes tightly as he pressed the bolded link. He took a deep breath, and cracked an eye open before shutting it again. “I can’t look. Someone look for me.”

“Give me that,” Manon grumbled, pulling the phone out of Dorian’s white-knuckled grasp. As a wide smile appeared on her face, Aelin’s stomach clenched further. She knew what that look meant. “Look yourself,” Manon said, handing the phone back to Dorian, whose eyes were still clenched tightly closed.

He blindly groped for the phone before Aelin shoved it into his wandering hand. “Congrats,” she whispered, knowing what the email would say without even seeing it herself.

Dorian’s eyes shot open, darting across the screen as that very same smile she’d seen on all her friends one-by-one ripped across his face.

Aelin tried to smile back as Manon and Elide crowded him with high fives and hugs and lifted celebratory cupcakes into the air and cheersed them together. Aelin refreshed her own inbox, but there was nothing there. Of course there wasn’t. At this point she was just assuming that she would have to reapply to colleges next year and maybe do community college locally for the year. That would be fine, though. She’d continue to teach dance and maybe volunteer at the hospital some more. Get some real-life work experience. Plus, she’d have time to drive out to Wendlyn and see Rowan on the weekends, if he still wanted her to do that, of course.

“Still nothing?” Elide asked Aelin, having noticed her quiet smile.

Aelin shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get the rejection soon,” she laughed. “I just wished they’d do it sometime soon and put me out of my misery.”

Elide reached across the table and squeezed Aelin’s tense shoulder. “I know this is going to sound patronizing, but I mean it. If they reject you, it’ll be their loss.” She paused. “Have you talked to your mom, asked her if there’s anything she can do?”

Aelin physically blanched at the mention. “No. Not since the interview debacle.” She cringed more, realizing that her mom would most-likely be calling her on her birthday in just a few days, and she’d be wondering what Aelin’s status was. And Aelin would have to admit that she as a disappointment, just as she always assumed she’d be.

Yet another reason why she would not be in the mood to celebrate turning the big one eight. She’d need a full day to recover from whatever her mom said to her. She tried to remember if Evalin had ever forgotten her birthday before. She was pretty sure she had. And those years had hurt, had made her want to celebrate her birthday even harder. But she wasn’t sure if talking to her this year would be worse than not hearing from her at all. I guess only time would tell.

Instead of wallowing in her feelings, Aelin joined the celebratory cupcake party, drowning her feelings in Maeve’s delicious buttercream frosting, and hoped yet again for a single email to arrive and put her out of her misery.

. . .

Three days later, Aelin woke up to a small nudge against her nose. Then a soft kiss to one cheek, then to her other.

“Five more minutes,” she groaned, causing the offending kisser to laugh against the soft skin of her neck as his kisses trailed down toward her shoulder. “I’m serious, Buzzard, fuck off,” she said, but it lacked any real vitriol. After all, the man of her dreams was kissing every inch of her skin as thoroughly as he could while still being gentle enough to rouse her from her dreams with ease.

“Happy Birthday, Ace” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers.

She finally cracked her eye all the way open and couldn’t help but smile widely at the sight of Rowan kneeling beside her bed, a sparkling glint in her best friend’s eye as she came to life beneath his gaze.

“Eighteen years old,” she whispered back, her voice still hoarse from hours of sleep.

“I know you said you wanted chocolate cake,” he said, “So I considered making you my poor attempts at breakfast cake again,” he laughed, reminding her of the day she’d woken up on her sixteenth birthday and resolved herself to kiss her best friend within that year. How far away that birthday now seemed, even though it was a mere two years ago. They were different people then. They hadn’t known how much they’d go through, how much life they’d live together to come out of it in this moment on her birthday again. Together. “But I decided to do you a solid and just bring a chocolate fudge cake for breakfast. Because you’re a grownup now. And grownups eat chocolate fudge cake for breakfast.”

She loved that despite their long history that Rowan still rambled when he got nervous with her. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. Her tongue slid between his lips and he groaned in response, kissing her harder and letting himself fall on top of her, despite still being on his knees.

“Maybe my first act as an official adult should be having morning sex with my boyfriend,” she mumbled against his lips, tugging him closer. He kissed her back, but shook his head and pulled away, causing her to pout sadly.

“As much as I would love that, your dad is downstairs.”

Aelin closed her eyes and stuck out her hand, revealing a thumbs down. Rowan laughed heartily, and she loved the way it made her feel dizzy.

“But we can eat some cake first,” he said, handing her a fork.

“Thanks, Rowan,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity between the two, not joking at all, and she loved the way his cheeks colored with a dark pink as his head ducked.

“I love you,” he simply replied. And though Aelin had dreaded the approach of this day, she relished in the fact that this boy – her best friend – loved her. For right now, that was good enough.

. . .

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rhoe said, enveloping Aelin into a warm hug.

Aelin quirked a brow up at her dad, who was not usually this sentimental, but she accepted the hug regardless.

“Shut up,” he said, chuckling softly as he pulled back. “It’s the last time I’m going to be with you on your birthday morning, and I deserve a hug. As a reward for getting you to eighteen at the very least. I think I did an okay job,” he said, looking her over.

“You did more than okay, Rhoe” Rowan said, pouring a large cup of coffee into Aelin’s favorite mug and then handing it to her. “You did amazing.”

“You’re already forgiven for waking me up too early,” Aelin laughed, but accepted the coffee nonetheless. “Mmmm, hazelnut,” she said, appreciating that her household had made her favorite flavor, despite not loving it themselves.

“DID I MISS IT?!” Lorcan asked, his voice breathless as he burst his way into the kitchen.

“Missed what?” Aelin asked, looking around at the empty kitchen.

“The gifting of porn and cigarettes, obviously,” Lorcan said with a wry smirk. But Aelin just rolled her eyes.

Her dad narrowed his eyes and looked at Lorcan with disdain. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

Lorcan’s grin only widened in response. “Happy eighteenth, slugger,” he laughed, handing Aelin a pile of scratch-off lotto tickets. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Rhoe’s lips curled into an unwitting smile as he wrapped his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, tugging her close once again.

“Dad?”  

“Lorcan is being an absolute idiot, like he always is.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know you’re still waiting for official replies, but no matter where you end up next year…” Rhoe began. “I’d like you to be able to come and visit as much as you like.”

He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Aelin. “Happy birthday, Aelin.” He looked around the room. “From all three of us.”

Aelin looked at the men in the room, staring back at her, before processing that the thing now resting in Aelin’s hand was a key. Not just a key. But a car key.

“SHUT UP,” she said, her eyes widening. “SHUT UP!”

“I will not,” Rhoe said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Aelin sprinted for the door before anyone could stop her, and she was practically crying as she reached the driveway where a dark green sedan waited for her.  

“She’s old, but we gave her a pretty good makeover,” Rhoe said, apologetic. But Aelin knew how huge a gift this was.

“You guys did this?” she asked, and Rhoe nodded.

“One of my crew members was ready to retire it for scraps. It’s a got a fair amount of miles on it already, but we replaced all the important parts. New alternator, air filter, battery, breaks, headlights… pretty much anything that wasn’t up to code from 30 years ago.”

“Dad…” she said, running her hand over the shiny fresh coat of paint. “That must have been really expensive…”

But Rhoe simply shook his head. “It was less than I thought it’d be. The whole crew helped out during their down time, and these two bozos put in a fair amount of labor on some overnight shifts.”

Aelin’s gaze shifted to Rowan, who was pushing the toe of his sneaker into the gravel of their driveway.

“I might have lied a few times about being too tired after lacrosse to come over. Sorry,” he said, tucking his chin into his chest, and Aelin was suddenly buzzing with an warm feeling in her chest. The knot that had been there, tightening for weeks, suddenly loosened. Love. That’s what this feeling was. Just the sweetest, most incredible feeling. To be cared for like this by the people around her. So overwhelmed, she couldn’t help herself; she corralled the three most important men in her life together and widened her arms around them into a giant group hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She made sure to say it three times, thanking each one of them.

“Well,” Lorcan said. “Don’t you want to get in?”

Aelin squealed, throwing herself into the driver’s seat and adjusting the chair to her particular height. She breathed in the pine scented air freshener they’d hung on the rearview mirror and smiled. It was perfect.

The car was old, that was not a question. But that only added to its charm. The seats were a comfortable worn-in fabric with a pattern that reminded her of the old Terrasen airport carpet, with its greyscale geometric patterns. The dash was covered in a faux wood pattern that she recognized as being trendy decades ago, but it just made her love it more. This car had history. She’d seen things. She was well-traveled, and Aelin couldn’t wait to give her a brand-new life and explore even more. She knew they’d have many, many adventures in this car. Overhead, there was a sunroof, which she immediately opened to let in the mid-morning light, and she couldn’t help but tilt her chin into the light and let the glow warm her skin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she finally said, lowering the window to look at her dad, who was more than pleased with his own handiwork.

But Rhoe simply scoffed at that comment. “So, are you driving us all to breakfast or what?”

Aelin grinned as Rowan pulled up a playlist titled, “A-ight-teen” and connected it to the clearly refurbished stereo system.

She laughed as the first song came on loudly – Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman – causing Rowan to grin widely, a grin that he reserved solely for her. Their matching smiles morphed into guffaws as Rhoe and Lorcan folded their hulking, tree-like bodies into the backseat, squeezing into the cramped sedan with no complaints.

“To Maeve’s?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, Jeeves,” Rhoe said in a ridiculous fancy accent, causing them to break into laughter again.

. . .

“SURPRISE!”

Aelin literally jumped as her friends popped up from behind the counter of Maeve’s. She glared at her dad and Rowan, who had clearly planned this, despite her specifically telling them she hadn’t wanted to celebrate her birthday with a party. I mean, had she known she was going to see more than just Maeve she would have at least put some makeup on!

As if reading her mind, Rowan wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

She frowned but accepted the compliment and a long kiss. As they parted, Aelin was swept into a number of excited hugs from all her favorite people. Manon, Elide, Dorian, Chaol, Lysandra, and Aedion circled around her, and she gasped as Aedion stepped in, surprising her with a bear hug and lifting her off the ground. They were causing a bit of a ruckus, especially with Lorcan making his own rounds saying hi to everyone he hadn’t seen in a few months, so Maeve quickly ushered them all out to the back patio where she’d set up a special table, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan with pleasure at the plates stacked high with all her favorite breakfast foods.

“…stuffed French toast, maple cured bacon, cinnamon rolls with extra frosting…” Maeve started listing, pointing along the table at the overly filled table.

“Anything for someone who doesn’t want to go into diabetic shock?” Rhoe laughed.

“Cheesy scrambled eggs, potato hash, bagels, and toppings for breakfast tacos,” she said, pointing out all the savory options on the table, too.

“Yummmm,” Aelin groaned, her eyes practically rolling back into her head with pleasure at her first bite of French toast, despite having a chocolate cake appetizer barely an hour earlier.

“I think she’s fine with the surprise,” Rhoe snorted, elbowing Rowan, who practically jumped out of his chair, tearing his eyes away from Aelin’s mouth.

Manon cackled with glee. “As if we would let the birthday queen not celebrate her birthday. It’ll probably be the last time.”

A round of awwwws went around the table, but instead of the tightening Aelin would usually in her stomach, her panic was abated by Rowan’s fingers lacing with hers beneath the table. He squeezed, as if to silently say, I’m here and I know and I love you. And Aelin let the familiar feeling of his callused finger pads calm her quickly. As he drew circles on the back of her palm, she couldn’t help but think at how different this birthday was from the one only two years ago – the one where she’d planned to tell Rowan her feelings and chickened out. She remembered the way he’d simply sat in the corner, watching her socialize, and she wondered what would have happened if she’d told him then – would they still have ended up together? Or did they need to go through… everything in order to get to where they needed to be today.

Looking at the way he made conversation with everyone from Lorcan to Lysandra, something shifted inside her. This man would one thousand percent have rather been alone with her all day, but he also knew that – despite her protests – she did actually want to celebrate with her friends. Because he knew her. Fully. And that’s when she knew without a doubt that regardless of what happened between them two years ago, ten years ago, or ten years from now, Rowan would always be with her, silently loving her and helping her be her best self.

Aelin gulped, that knot that had abated earlier suddenly tightening in her stomach again. She had been so panicked for so many months about every moment being the last, progressively becoming more stressed as each of her friends discovered what their future held, while she still didn’t. But what was shockingly clear all of a sudden is that she did know what her future held. I mean, sure, she didn’t know where she’d end up or what she’d end up studying or exactly what her life would look like, but she knew that Rowan would be there by her side no matter what.

She almost laughed at herself. Wasn’t that what he’d been saying to her over and over and over? Why did it take until this moment to make her believe that?

“Presents?” Maeve suggested, and though Aelin nodded and smiled through each one, her mind was elsewhere, thinking about what she needed to talk about with Rowan tonight. Her stomach flipped – although she wasn’t entirely sure that couldn’t be blamed on the copious amounts of sugar she was consuming and her never-emptying mug of coffee.

“You okay, Fireheart?” Rhoe asked, nudging her ankle from across the table.

“Yup,” she answered, forcing a smile back onto her face and actually meaning it for the first time in a while. “Too much frosting,” she laughed, patting at her overly full stomach. Rhoe simply returned her laugh and handed the plate of frosted cinnamon rolls to the other end of the table where Dorian accepted it eagerly. And though she continued to open her presents and bask in the love of her friends and family around her, Aelin couldn’t wait to get Rowan alone.

. . .

“Did you have a good birthday?” Rowan asked, fluffing the pillows on the ground as Aelin gathered a warm quilt and pulled it over their makeshift bed. It’d been months since it was warm enough to go up to Maeve’s rooftop, but it felt like the perfect place to end the day.

“It’s not over yet,” Aelin said, snuggling into his side.

Rowan looked at his phone. “You’re right. You have ninety more minutes to celebrate. How do you want to commemorate your eighteenth year of life?”

Aelin raised her brow. “You think I brought you up here just to talk?”

Rowan snorted and pulled her closer. “You’re a menace. Come on, talk to me. I’ve seen your brain working a million miles an hour all day.”

Aelin looked up. “How do you do that?”

Rowan shrugged. “Do what?”

“Read my mind,” she said. “It’s spooky sometimes. I feel like you know things before I say them out loud allllll the time.”

Rowan chuckled. “I wish I could read your mind,” he said, tapping the side of her temple gently. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She’d been so distracted all day that for the first time in weeks, Aelin hadn’t spent every minute of every day refreshing her inbox.

She froze, and then her heart took off in a gallop, racing until she felt shaky with adrenaline. Sure enough, as she pulled the phone up, it was lit up with an email alert from Wendlyn University. Re: Aelin Galathynius Admission Status.

“Oh fuck,” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s eyes darted to the screen, and he shot up, sitting up too quickly and knocking Aelin off him.  

“Are you gonna check it?” he asked, but even as Aelin clicked into her inbox, she couldn’t press it. The email that would tell her whether she and Rowan were going to end up at the same school for the next four years. And then, suddenly, she knew what she had to say. And she had to say it before she opened up that email and revealed her fate. Because her fate could only be one thing. One person, really.

She placed her phone down and looked Rowan straight in the eyes and said with as much conviction as she possibly could, “I think we should get married.”

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fic #throne of glass fic #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #charincharge writes #rowan x aelin #weeewooooo #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic

[bleue-flora]

Would you agree that between c!dream and c!punz, c!punz seems to be the more crueler. I was talking to another blog about it, and we spoke about the final lore streams where c!punz didnt care about c!clingys problems, most notably c!tommy almost taking his own life in exile (but then again he is desensitized to death cuz revival book lol) But, c!punz was the one to stick to the revival book plan near the end while c!dream opened up and showed vulnerability. I have seen a lot of fics characterize c!punz as being the one to be more softer and less inclined to hurt others for a goal, but after seeing the final streams I can't help but feel like its the other way around. I'm really curious on your take about it, and its fine if you disagree. Also really love your blog, you seem like such a kind person :)

Hmm ok well here are my thoughts on the matter at the moment, however as I rewatch more lore I might change my opinion.

Well in regards to c!Punz not caring about clingy duo’s problems, you’re assuming he hasn’t heard it before. We don’t know if thats new information, it’s possible c!Dream told him about the tower. In fact, since he was often still apart of the smp and conversations going on it’s very likely he’s heard a lot of what they said already. He’s a spy after all, it’s his job to know things.

Secondly, it’d be very hard to be empathetic to someone about themselves almost killing themself over a year ago when they just broke into the prison and murdered his friend. The revive book and such has clearly corrupted both of their empathies seen in their experiments. So, c!Punz already has a lack of empathy or at least is desensitized, the last person I’d expect him to sympathize with would be his enemy, especially when clingy duo weren’t really hearing what he had to say. I mean it’s insulting to be ignored after lying and hiding for so long and finally be able to share your opinion, but also the fact that clingy duo (and others) really thought he was cold enough to betray his friend for a measly amount of money to the point they question when it turns out to be fake. I mean that’s pretty offensive.

On that note though, it is also important to point out that those conversations in the finale are in his ‘evil role persona’ just like c!Dream he’s playing a part - one of the greedy mercenary just in this case for power. So if he seems cruel that’s intentional. Though I will say, he does give c!Tubbo and c!Tommy plenty of steak when they ask, which does say something, with this being c!Dream’s response:

“Wow, being humane. You could have waited.” And “don’t give him more, don’t give him more” [5:50]

And most importantly, I think that because we don’t get to see c!Punz break down like c!Dream the assumption is that even though it turns out c!Dream just didn’t want to be alone, c!Punz is still power hungry. But I think that’s a little unfair to c!Punz because it’s not like we saw him vulnerably be opened up like that, so is it fair to say he still has the stated goals. I talk about this a little more here [post]. What he does say in that conversation isn’t about power but about friendship. When Tommy is dissecting c!Dream c!Punz remarks on it:

“What can you just read minds now? are you just a mind reader—you knew it like—What?” [clip]

And this could probably be taken different ways, but given how he goes quiet whenever c!Dream wants to talk and seems to defend him in their conversation I see it more as like a - don’t put words into his mouth sort of thing. And because c!Tommy and people kinda do that it makes sense for c!Punz to be on guard for it. And there’s the comment about him being c!Dream’s friend. [clip]

In the less performative moments in the ending finale, c!Punz isn’t cutting in with something about power but about friendship and having c!Dream’s back. So I’m of the opinion more so that c!Punz was c!Dream’s friend, c!Dream became afraid and obsessed with death, and c!Punz stayed by his side, getting corrupted along with him. If it was about the Plan and power for c!Punz, I think he would’ve said different things like arguing with c!Dream about his goal and stuff. And there’s not really a lot of evidence to say c!Punz would’ve stayed by the plan had things not ended (though we shall never know for certain). But I think while it’s a common assumption to make, I think it’s a little unfair to say c!Punz was all just for the plan because we don’t hear him get fully vulnerable.

So given that, no I don’t think c!Punz is particularly crueler. But I do think he would do things c!Dream wouldn’t. While c!Dream is run by rational thoughts, c!Punz seems to be more emotional so (as expressed in my fics) I could totally see him going for violent revenge on behalf of his friendship with c!Dream. Perhaps then that makes him crueler? But I guess it would depend on your perspective of cruel, I suppose I was seeing cruel in this context as heartless, which I don’t think c!Punz is. In other words, he is wholesome to c!Dream, but everyone who wronged him better watch out. (I mean think about the scene of c!Punz leading c!Tommy and c!Tubbo down the stairs enraged by them killing c!Dream and him suggesting c!Purpled and c!Dream tie c!Quackity to a chair and torture him.)

Hope that provides some insight into the matter. :) and aww thank you that’s so sweet. <3 <3 <3

#mmmm :P thank for the fun topic #hello there #<3 <3 <3 #c!dream #dsmp #dreblr #dream smp #c!stagedduo #dsmp analysis #c!punz #I dont have time to edit this so hopefully there aren’t too many typos … #dsmp finale #c!clingyduo #c!tommyinnit #did someone order an essay? #I hope so lol…

[boldlyvoid]

Where There is Love, There is Life | Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Clandestine Meetings | for @elriel-month 2024

Summary: Elain finally takes matters into her own hands, tending to her life as carefully as she would her garden.

Warnings: requited love, mutual pining, love confessions, Smut!! Oral (fem receiving), wing play, teasing, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 6.1k | Masterlist

Dinner is weird. 

She sits across from Rhys and bites her tongue. Which isn’t abnormal for her; she’s not talkative around him. They’re friendly, they’re family, but they’re not talkative. Part of her wants to yell at him. The rest of her knows that Feyre will handle it. But the part that wants to yell is bigger. 

So, as Feyre picks up Nyx from his high chair and brings him out of the room to bathe him before bed, Elain takes her chance. 

“I know what you did,” she announces. 

The wraiths, her best friends, hear the seriousness of her tone and leave. Abandoning the dirty dishes for the safety and solitude of the kitchen. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“That night with Azriel, you made him stop,” she explains. You stepped in, you pulled him away from me. You made a decision for me, thinking it would benefit the court without considering my feelings. How many times are you going to do this? To Feyre and her family?” 

He’s shocked. He never expected her to take such a tone with him, to stand up for herself. It’s evident by the way he blinks and pulls back, thinking about what he’s done and realizing how wrong he was. Before he can speak, she continues.

“I do not like Lucien. He is a good male, sure. He’s handsome, whatever? But do I love him? No. Would you force me to marry Lucien to benefit this court? What good does he really bring to you? He’s close to Vassa and Jurian, but do you know who else? Feyre, Nesta and myself. Jurian helped Azriel save me. My father made the deal that broke Vassa away from Koschei. Lucien is just a cog in the machine; he’s there for help, but he is not the reason it works.” 

“I’m—

“And furthermore!” She cuts him off. “did you ever wonder why he spends so much time with Vassa instead of me? Have you ever considered he also doesn’t want this? If he did, he’d be here. You couldn’t stay away from Feyre, and Cassian couldn’t stay away from Nesta. No matter how much she pissed him off, he kept coming back. You fought for love. Lucien and I don’t like each other, the cauldron made a mistake, and I am sick and fucking tired of letting other people, other beings, make decisions for me. I have been controlled, kidnapped and changed all against my will. Do not force me into being unhappy for the rest of my life because it’s convenient to you.” 

Rhys takes a deep breath at the same time that she does. They just stare at each other for a moment. He asks with his eyes if it’s his turn to speak, and she motions with her hand for him to go ahead. 

“I didn’t think. Not about you,” he confirms. “My first fear wasn’t that we’d lose Lucien as emissary. It was that I could lose Azriel if he asked to fight to the death for your hand. Lucien was sleeping upstairs. If I could smell your arousal... if it had gone further and we heard you… gods know how it would’ve ended.” 

“We would’ve gone somewhere else,” she assures. “And I don’t think Lucien would do that. Seeing what his mother went through, the way he aches for standing by while Feyre dealt with Tamlin, he wouldn’t force me into something I don’t want.” 

“Azriel is my brother; I love him more than I can describe, I want him to be happy, yes, but I want him to live more than anything,” Rhys bows his head with a sigh. “How can I make this right?” 

“Turn a blind eye to us for the time being.” 

“Are you together?” 

“I’m meeting him later, hopefully. I need him to know I am in love with him. That I want him. That my choice, the biggest choice I could ever make, is to choose him as my forever. I’ll deal with Lucien later; Feyre and I have a plan for that, which she will fill you in on later tonight. It will be fine. It’s not the first time a mating bond hasn’t been the end all be all, look at Luciens own mother. She is mated to Helion and married to Baron, and they’ve never fought over it… I like to think Lucien, no matter which father he takes after more, he’d let me be in control of this because he’s seen how much control his mother lacks.” 

“So, get married.” 

“What?” Elain’s eyes almost pop out of her skull; she can’t believe what he said. 

“Marriage is as serious as a bond. I knew that once Feyre said I do to Tamlin, I wasn’t able to interfere; the bond would be there, but it would never happen. Helion does nothing because she’s married. Not because he’s afraid of Baron or because he enjoys keeping a secret. It’s something most males respect. So marry Azriel, make it official, and no one can interfere.” 

“H-how?” She asks, still reeling from the idea. 

“Feyre and I got married right before we went to get the cauldron, right before you were changed,” he explains with a solemn look on his face. Taking another deep breath, he says, “I knew no matter what happened, by marrying her and making her our high lady, my court would be taken care of, and if I died, I died a happy, married man. But it came in handy when she went back with Tamlin.” 

Elain nods. “So… what? We just walk into a temple, and a priestess marries us? We don’t need anyone there to witness it? It just becomes official?” 

“They will have a second priestess there to witness it,” Rhys assures. You can do it alone, in the middle of the night… or you can do it here, in the garden, with your closest friends and family, and we will keep it a secret until you want to tell Lucien.” 

She nods along, slowly taking it all in. “I think… I think I want to talk to Az first. Make sure we’re on the same page.” 

“You are,” Rhys smiles, that genuine, toothy, Rhys smile. “He almost beat the shit out of me because I told him to stay away. He put rocks in the fucking snowballs the next day.”

 Elain laughs, blushing slightly as she shakes her head, “I love him so much; if you hadn’t stepped in, I was going to tell him that night.” 

“I’m sorry. Truly sorry. You happiness, your future, your love, that’s all up to you. I won’t step in again, unless you need me, because we’re family,” he reminds her. “It’s been so long since I had a sister— and don’t tell Nesta I said this, but— I love you both, even if I have a weird way of showing it.” 

Elain laughs, “You and Nesta butt heads like you’ve been siblings for 500 years. You both love so strongly, and you’re so afraid of people you love thinking the worst of you that it comes out in screaming matches and shoves. But she loves you; I know she does. If not because of Feyre, because of Cassian and how you kept him safe as a boy.” 

“If I could go back in time and do it all again, I’d simply go find him sooner.” 

It breaks her heart what the boys went through before meeting Rhys. Even if they hated each other for the first little bit, they saved each other—again and again and again. 

“I, uh, I’m going to go settle down for the night,” she announces as she stands up. “Thank you for understanding and for the advice.” 

He nods, “I’m always here for you, Elain. For anything.” 

—

He gets there early. 

He winnows to the townhouse garden. Sitting at the little picnic table in the dark, he contemplates bringing out some candles and making the garden brighter, but he also doesn’t want to draw attention to the townhouse. It’s known to be unoccupied currently, and the last thing he wants is for someone to ask Rhys why the lights were on tonight. 

He sends the shadows out to watch the house and alert him when Elain is at the front door. She has a key, she’s allowed in the warding, and she’ll be here as quickly as she can walk over from the river house. So he sends another shadow to watch the path she would take to ensure her safety. 

He can tell it's midnight from the moon's position; he stares up at the stars, wanting to memorize where they were the day he finally told Elain the truth—that he loves her more than he could ever properly explain, but he’ll try. He’ll tell her everything tonight, even if it’s almost a year too late.

Elain clears her throat, alerting him that she’s arrived and startling him. “How did you—

“I can winnow,” she shrugs. “How do you think I was able to stab that asshole so fast?” 

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head before taking her in. He looks her up and down, and his heart skips a beat. In her deep blue dress, it might even be purple in daylight, but in the moonlight, it’s blue—his favourite shade of blue on his favourite person in the whole world. 

He smiles then, “I figured it was a heat of the moment power serge… Feyre had the same problem with her powers when she was learning; if she got too excited, angry, or… lustful, she could freeze, burn, blind, or disappear.” 

She nods, stepping closer to the table. " It was a shock that first time, but I kept learning. Nuala and Cerridwen helped me; they’ve taught me a lot." 

He smirks, shaking his head slightly, “I should’ve known you 3 would be dangerous together.” 

She giggles that beautiful, miraculous giggle. She sits across from him, “Yeah, well, I’m going to have to learn how to be dangerous if I’m going to be married to you, shadowsinger.” 

Everything stops. His breathing, his heart, the noise of the night in the city—it’s all gone. 

“Excuse me?” It falls out of him. 

She just smiles, big and toothy, her head slightly cocked to the side her eyes gleaming. It’s the same smile Feyre gives Rhys. He knows it well. She’s in love with him. 

“I gave Rhysand a talking to for stepping in last year. I… I want to make the choice of who I end up with, who I love. And while the cauldron was right for my sisters, the choice it made for me wasn’t right. I don’t agree, and I am putting my foot down. I’m taking my future into my own hands.” 

He nods along, “Okay.” 

“I love you. I want you. I need you.” Her voice lowers on the last line. She looks at him through her lashes and smirks slightly. “So marry me. Make me yours as much as you are mine, and together, we can deal with whatever that brings.” 

That was the last thing he expected tonight. However, he had dreamed about this moment… just a little differently. He was going to ask her about the continent during a trip to the Botanical Garden in Vallahan, somewhere she’d talked about visiting since she learned of it 2 years ago. 

“Tonight?” He asks, “Alone?” 

She shrugs, “If you want that. Rhys also suggested we do it in the garden at their house, with just a small group of us, so that it can stay a secret until we can tell Lucien.” 

“What if he—

“He’ll take it well. I think he’ll be just as relieved to know I don’t want him as I will be to know he doesn’t want me either,” she explains. “I have a feeling he stays with Vassa for more reasons than just that she understands him. I think he fell in love with her.” 

“That… that would make sense,” Azriel agrees. “He is very opinionated about breaking her curse and he would do anything for her the same way I would for you.” 

Her eyes light right up again, so big the stars reflect in her pupils. “So you love me?”

He lets out a deep breath, staring deeply into her eyes. Reaching out over the table, he takes her beautiful hands. “So much that it feels like my heart could explode. I never, ever thought I could feel like this and I’ve been alive—

“Forever?” She teases, squeezing his hand. 

He laughs, “a long time, yes. And in all those years I’ve never believed it could happen to me. To be loved the way I love someone, to feel like I deserve it… you make me feel worthy. You make me feel good. I just hope that my love brings something as meaningful to you as yours has brought to me.” 

“Oh, Az,” she drops his hand and rushes around the table; he meets her halfway. “You make me feel so powerful and strong and… and me. I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m with you. You don’t make decisions for me, you don’t talk over me, you don’t talk down to me… you’re so wonderful and strong and powerful, yet you respect me as if I’m exactly as powerful. You respect me, you care for me, you are an extension of me at this point. I love you with my whole soul.” 

He cups her jaw and pulls her back to look down at her; every hair on his body stands up with anticipation as he stares into her eyes. The last time they were this close he fucked it all up. “I never meant what I said that night. You weren’t a mistake; Rhys made me feel like I was making one… You’d never be a mistake.” 

“I know,” she whispers softly, looking from his eyes to his lips. “Kissing you wouldn’t have been the mistake, trying to pretend we weren’t together behind everyones backs would’ve been. Loving you proudly, out loud and in front of everyone is what you deserve. What we deserve.” 

“What we both deserve,” he agrees before pulling her in and pressing his lips against hers. 

—

The second his lips touch hers, the world stops. Her eyes close in an instant. She wraps herself around him just as his big hands grasp her back and tug her in so they’re chest to chest. She hums against him, safe and content, where she’s always wanted to be—where she’s always meant to be. 

This is what she wanted last solstice; all those same feelings come rushing back. Her arousal coursed through her; she wanted him more than air, and as she took in a deep breath from her nose, she could tell he wanted her just as bad. His tongue slides over her bottom lip, begging for access to more of her mouth, so she lets him in. Tasting his tongue, exploring his mouth, feeling up his back as he cradles her head and holds her so carefully like she could break. Pressed against him, his leg juts out between her legs just right for her to gently grind upon. 

His hands slip down to her ass as he pulls her hips closer until she feels the outline of his cock pressed against her. She moans into his mouth and that heady and delicious scent comes pouring from him in response. He wants her just as badly as she wants him. Heat floods her body; she lifts a leg to wrap around him and pull him in even closer and to her surprise, he pushes the material of her dress up to grip her bare leg right under the knee and hold her there. 

He kisses down the side of her neck, growling lightly, “fuck, Elain, your scent is going to be the death of me.” 

She tilts her head to the side, holding onto his massive shoulders for dear life as he nips and sucks at her skin. “Az,” she moans his name. “It’s all for you. Always you.” 

He licks from her collarbone up to her ear, “you even taste like jasmine and honey.” 

“More,” she breathes out. “Taste me more?” 

He groans again, “let's get you to a bed—

“No!” she stops him, staring back into his eyes. “I want to do it here, where I fell in love with you.” 

“Right here?” 

She nods, “In the garden where you healed me… I have some blankets.” She waves her hand, and suddenly, there’s a pile of quilts and furs laid upon the ground, surrounded by lanterns and candles. “All I want is for you to take me in the flowers we planted together.” 

“Elain,” he cups her face. “Anything you want, from now until forever, I will give it to you.” 

“Then come on,” she smirks, taking his hand to lead him to the blankets. 

She makes him sit first, leaning back on his hands with his wings slightly spread— enough to show off but not enough to knock anything over and set the garden ablaze. She hikes up her dress just enough to straddle his lap. The light, satin fabric pools around her hips, cascading over them. She cups his face once more as he wraps his arms gently around her. 

“Are you sure?” He worries. 

She nods, “I took the tonic this morning after breakfast, I’ve wanted to do this for a while— tell you that is, not... you know? Well…” 

He smirks, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, too.” 

“How long has it been for you?” She wonders, almost regretting it. 

“Since I met you… even before that. I think it might be five years now. Near the end of Amarantha’s reign, my shadows alerted me to what was happening all over, and I was too nervous to partake in anything fun.” 

She nods, " As much as I hate her, I’m grateful she brought us together.” 

He brushes her hair back behind her ear and cups her cheek, “I would’ve waited 500 more years for you.” 

“And I would’ve come back, again and again and again, until our paths crossed.” 

He gently cups her body and flips them around, resting her against the blankets and hovering over her. “I know something else you can do again and again for me.” 

She knows exactly what he means, “Oh, please?” She begs. “I’ve never… but I want to.” 

“Never?” His eyes widen in shock. 

“Never…”

“Well then, at least we get to share at least 1 first each tonight.” She looks at him, confused. “You’ll get to cum, and I get to be loved. Truly loved.” 

“Oh,” she swoons. “I do love you; I love you so much.” 

“Let me show you just how much I love you,” he coos, leaning back in to kiss her lips. 

With her dress still hiked up, the bulge in his pants pressed directly against her underclothes. He feels so remarkable, both against her and as his tongue reenters her mouth. 

Before she can get into it again, he kisses her lips one last time, and he shuffles down between her legs even more. He kisses her neck, shoulder, and collarbones, “can I?” He whispers against her skin, hand tracing the bodice of her dress, over her pebbled nipples and up towards the straps. 

“Yes,” she moans. “Touch me, Azriel.” 

He makes a pleased sound, almost a purr against her, as he pushes her straps off her shoulders and pulls the dress down to her middle. Watching as her breasts become free from their silky prison and fall away from each other with the weight of them. He takes two handfuls, his scared hands carefully gripping them as she arches towards his touch. She never thought too much about her breasts, thinking they were a fine size, not too big and not too small… looking at them now, in his hands, she realized they were made for this. To fit perfectly in the palms of her lover's hands, her one true love's hands. 

Then, he grips her tits, pushing them together, and kisses her right nipple, then the left and then he lets them go. Gravity separates them enough for him to kiss the centre of her chest and down her stomach until he’s lying between her legs. Tugging at the dress once more, she lifts her hips to help him slide it off of her, down her legs and abandoned on the blankets beside them. 

He kisses her stomach again, hands sliding along her thighs as he pushes them apart even more. Resting between them, he presses a kiss right to the fabric in the centre of her underwear. “Are you 100% positive you want this?” 

“Yes, Azriel,” she breathes out, assuring him one last time before he starts to pull her panties right off. 

She’d dreamed about this moment, the way he’d look up at her with greedy, lust-blown eyes just as he kissed the most sensitive part of her.

She’s had the unfortunate experience of hearing her sisters with their mates, thinking they were overexaggerating their noises just to stroke their Illyrian egos. She had no idea it was this good. 

His tongue glides along her quim, slowly savouring the taste of her slick. She reached for him, resting on one elbow as her free hand ran through his hair. He looked up into her eyes, smirking as he sucked on her, causing her to gasp. “Oh gods,” she whined, just as he growled against her. The vibration radiates through her body. 

She had never felt like this. The heat in her veins danced through her body, sparking like her favourite wine. She arched off the bed, pushing herself closer to him; she wanted more. She wanted all of it—all of him. 

The way his hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he dragged his tongue over her once more before plunging his tongue right into her. She gasped, not expecting it. She had read about this, having stolen one of Nesta’s books when she was a teenager… but this, this was far more intimate, more intense than she expected. His nose brushed against that bundle of nerves as his tongue turned inside her. Fucking her with his tongue, reaching a place inside of her that no one else had. 

She swore she closed her eyes at the feeling, yet she could still see stars. Whining and moaning as her hips undulated to meet his movements, she didn’t care if the whole city heard them. The world should know that the shadow singer of the night court was hers, dedicated to her pleasure, and had promised himself to her for the rest of his life. 

If this was anything to go by, she knew a good half of that remaining lifespan would be spent here. In her bed, between her thighs, inside her. Where he belonged. 

Pressing a hand to her stomach, he held her down as he withdrew his tongue, going back up to her clit to flick his tongue against it. She cried out, feeling bubbling in her gut, lower than that… in her womb. Closer than she’d ever been in her life, she knew she was close to experiencing her first orgasm. Giving it to him would be a blessing— without any warning, he slipped a finger into her. 

Breathing against her, he looked up to see her reaction as she looked down at him with pure shock on her face. “I’m going to need to stretch you,” he explained. “You’ll need to be prepared for me.” 

She tossed her head back, “sweet fuck,” she moaned. “I knew it…” 

He chuckled against her, “knew what?” 

“Illyrian wingspans…” she tried to explain as he fucked her with his finger, kissing her clit over and over as he watched her. “They—gods— they’re indicators of size in other— other places.” 

He hums, “That they are.” 

She moaned again as he curled his finger, gently rubbing a spot inside of her that made those stars behind her eyes explode into blinding white light. That moan became a scream of pleasure as something foreign coursed through her body, making her shake and writhe against the blankets. 

He coaxed her through it; behind the ringing in her ears, she could tell he was praising her. “Good girl, there it is; let it go.” 

She couldn’t catch her breath, panting with her hand gripped to her breast, her chest heaved. “Was that?” She asked, not able to use any more words; her brain felt like it melted in her skull. 

He hums against her thigh, pressing kisses there as she calms down, finger still inside her. “It was… you look beautiful when you cum.” 

She just lay there, looking up at the stars again. “Holy fuck.” 

He withdrew his finger then, and she felt his tongue back on her hole, lapping up her release. He groaned, “You taste even better.” 

Her legs still quaked as she sat up slightly, looking down at him again. His eyes were blown out with lust, so impossibly dark… his wings spread out, fluttering and twitching every now and then as he kept licking at her. “Are you… are you sure I need more stretching?” 

He nods, “Just 2 more fingers… give me 5 minutes?” 

“Okay,” she smiles. “I can’t wait to have you back up here.” 

“Oh,” he softens at that. “Here,” he offers; getting to his knees, he crawls over her. Keeping her thighs apart with a knee, his fingers dance over her sensitive clit and down to her hole. Leaning over her, he’s so close to her now. She can smell herself on his face; a husky jasmine essence covers him. “I can multitask.” 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a kiss. Tasting herself… he wasn’t wrong. She hums in his mouth; she could get used to this. And then there are two fingers working their way into her. Slowly, knuckle by knuckle, he was right about needing to stretch her because even this is a lot. She has to stop the kiss, breathing against him, “How in the world are your fingers so big?” 

He laughs against her, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. He rests on his elbow, yet he’s still able to brush her hair off her face. All of him is huge, actually. He makes her feel so small, not in a bad way. She likes it. She likes how delicate she feels under him, knowing she’ll always be protected, especially as his big wings stretch out and hide them from the world. 

She reaches out for his wings, brushing her fingers from the talon and down along the membrane. He shutters, bucking his hips against her legs. “You did that on purpose,” he groans. 

She smirks, “oh, does it feel good?” She teases. “I had no idea.” 

He bites her shoulder, making her yelp. He drags his tongue over the bite mark and then blows on it lightly, sending shivers down her entire body. Her nipples get even harder, somehow. He kisses from her shoulder to her chest, sucking her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. He pumps his fingers in and out of her with more fervour, his thumb ghosting over her clit to see if she’s still too sensitive for more. She isn’t. She’s craving more of him all over again. 

Curling his fingers again, his rhythm changed ever so slightly to rub that spot inside of her as he thrusts. She can hear how wet she is and feel it slipping out of her to pool on the sheets. When it all starts to feel a bit too much again, he slows down, withdraws all the way and starts to work in another finger. 

She hisses; it’s more than she’s ever had inside of her. Her first time wasn’t anything too spectacular; Greyson was a typical, average human man. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to Azriel. With his wings and his fingers… oh, she was in for a world of pleasure after the hurt subsided. 

“You can take it,” he whispers in her ear, cooking her through it. Sucking on her neck gently, he presses his thumb into her clit for added pleasure. Knowing exactly what he’s doing, she eases up and relaxes just enough to let him in all the way. “Good girl.” 

The phrase makes her brain fuzzy. She reels in the praise; it’s not often she’s complimented like this. She brushes a hand over his wing again, “Az…” 

Deep from within, he purrs against her again, “Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m good— ready, I’m ready,” she rushes out. “Please?” 

He smiles, pulling away from her breasts, hovering over her; he keeps pumping into her. Scissoring his fingers slightly, stretching her even more before he pulls out. “Are you sure?” 

She nods like her head is on a spring,  “yes, Az, please?” 

“Say it,” he orders, grinning like a devil, still fucking her with his fingers. “Tell what you want.” 

“Fuck me,” she breathes out. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“I can do that,” he teases, pulling out of her and sitting up on his knees. He’s quick to suck her juices off each one. Savouring the taste, his eyes roll back in his head slightly. He groans, pulling them out with a pop sound, “I’m never going to get enough of how you taste.” 

She props herself up on her elbows, staring at him with her head cocked to the side. Her eyes drag over his body, over his tight black shirt and down towards the strain in his pants. “Are you going to stay clothed all night?” 

With the snap of his fingers, he’s naked in front of her. So, so naked… her jaw drops at the sight of him. She’d seen him shirtless many times when he was working out on top of the house of wind or resting with Cassian in the backyard… she’d daydreamed about what he’d look like under the belt, but nothing compares to the real thing. 

She quickly closed her mouth, swallowing before she could drool and embarrass herself. She reaches out for him, hand on his abs, she follows the bumps and ridges with her fingers, tracing over his skin causing him to breakout in goosebumps. She stops at the tuft of hair that usually peaks out of his training leathers. “Wow…” 

His cock twitches, standing tall and pointing towards her, head gleaming as a pearl of precum dribbles out of him. Her hand drifts further down, tentatively gripping him at the base as she makes eye contact. Her fingers barely meet her thumb. He’s that thick and long… holy gods, she would take this. Again and again and again for the rest of her life. 

She gets to her knees, still not as tall as him, stroking him lightly. Looking into his eyes, she deeply breathes, “Make love to me, Azriel.”

He lunges for her, kissing her hard, passionately. Hand at the nape of her neck, he caresses her with his thumb as his tongue meets hers once more. She would never tire of how he kissed her and savoured her, as if every kiss would be their last. His other hand rests on her lower back, pulling her in closer so their bare chests touch. She settles against him, letting go of his cock so she can wrap her arms around him and feel his back muscles, tracing gently around where his wings meet skin. 

He whimpers into her mouth, nipping at her lip before pulling back, “lay back.” 

She listens, quickly finding the most comfortable spot against the blankets, her head resting on a makeshift pillow of folded fur. With her legs spread, she watches him kneel between her legs once more, dropping over her, hands on either side of her, and caging her in. He looks at her like a meal, like he’s been starving for half a millennium. 

Which, in a way, he has been.

Starved for love. 

“I love you,” she whispers, reaching for him again. She cups his face. “I love you so much, Azriel.”

Fighting back what looks to be tears, he smiles, “I love you, Elain Archeron.” 

“I’m ready when you are?” 

“Okay,” he whispers; reaching between them, he gathers some of her wetness and rubs her clit for good measure. She bites her lip with a moan, still relaxed and happy and okay… so he slips in slowly. Inch by inch, watching himself disappear inside of her. It’s intoxicating to watch him watch her, but the feeling, the stretch… it’s far too good to stay focused. 

He’s just hovering over her, completely inside of her, staring into her eyes while they take in the moment together. “You’re inside of me,” she whispers with a smile. 

“I am,” he can’t help but laugh slightly, entirely in love with her. “Can I move?” 

“Please?” she grips his shoulders for good measure, pulling out just enough to push back in again and again and again until he builds a beautiful rhythm that she adores. With her head lulled back, he kisses her neck and jaw, using everything in his power not to completely cover her in marks where the whole city could see tomorrow. 

“Can you, can—“ she tries to talk, feeling too much to string much along. “Touch me… in that spot?” she begs, not wanting to say such a crude word out loud. 

“Your clit?” He teases. “Of course.” Using his thumb, he rubs her clit while the rest of his flat hand rests on her pubic bone. He can almost feel himself with each trust, and it’s just as intense for her. 

It’s everything she ever wanted and then some, more beautiful than any experience she could read in a book or imagine late at night… and usually he was the star of those dreams that felt like this. And now he’s real, and here and between her legs, making her feel more than ever before; she’s so fucking close again. 

“Az,” she whispers, getting his attention back, “kiss me?” 

She doesn’t have to ask twice; he kisses her hard and passionately, thrusting into her with precision and dedication to make sure she has a good time. He would be damned if he came before her, so he rubs her clit faster and fucks her deeper and kisses her harder. It’s all so much, her thighs are trebling again and she knows it’s going to happen, she wants to warn him but it feels too good to kiss him and hold him while he takes her there. And he feels it too, she knows he does by the way he whimpers against her mouth, “close?” He mumbles. 

She nods, “please?” 

“Cum baby,” he encourages her, feeling her clench around him, pulsing around his cock as she releases, just like she did on his fingers. “Good girl,” he praises, bucking his hips into her and withdrawing his hand from her clit. He wraps his arms around her, fucking her gently and with intent as he chases his own high. His wings spread wide, splayed out so fast that all the candles are extinguished by the gust of wind. 

“Oh Elain,” he whispers, “oh, I love you, I love you so fucking much,” he groans as he cums, shaking on top of her. 

She runs her hands over his back, touching that spot where his skin meets his wing—where she now knows he likes it—coaxing him through it all. It feels so much more intense than either of them expected. 

He still’s inside of her, panting in her ear gently between each kiss to her neck. He just wants to hold her, he could fall asleep after how incredible it was, but then she starts to shake again, and it’s not because she’s cumming. 

She’s crying, holding him tightly with her cheek pressed to the side of his head, “I love you.” 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he lifts himself up enough to look down at her, feeling himself start to tear up as well. “So, so much,” he feels the tear trickle down his cheek and land on her chest. 

She pulls him into another kiss, holding his cheeks in her hands. She breathes him in deeply. “Thank you,” she whispers afterward. 

“We’re even,” he teases with a smile, wiping her tears. “Thank you.” 

@greenleaf777 @lostvillainess

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[thestobingirlie]

Hiii I would like to ask you a questioni because I really likes tour point of view on stranger things. Objectively, do you think there's any chance stancy is endgame?

these two asks are pretty much exactly the same, so i figure i’ll just answer them both in one lol!

so, from an objective standpoint i do think there’s a chance for stancy endgame. the duffers have proven before that they are capable and willing to break up a couple and push together another within one season (two if we’re including the season of flirtatious behaviour prior). if anything i’d say stancy’s chances are slightly stronger than jancy’s was post-s1. if only because s4 very explicitly laid out all the issues with jancy, while pushing stancy as a couple. whereas with s1, there’s nothing that really outright tells us that stancy would be having the issues they did in s2 (s2 had to demonstrate those issues, then break stancy up, while s5 wouldn’t be as confined to that for jancy).

i also think bringing back the love triangle just to completely disregard it the following season would be very weak writing. and that’s not to say that the duffers are the best writers in the world, but generally they seem to know what they’re doing. there’s a reason stancy was a couple at the end of s1 — it wasn’t solely a way to drag out drama but a real attempt at thinking about what nancy would’ve done as a result of steve surviving the season.

jancy was very clearly the original endgame. however, the duffers have shown that they’re willing to adapt from their vision for the sake of better storytelling. steve was supposed to die in s1. but they enjoyed what joe keery brought to the show as steve too much! all this to say, they’re not completely rigid in their writing. jancy being the og endgame, doesn’t mean they will be now.

from a slightly more emotional and personal standpoint, i do think stancy is the better endgame option. steve represents hope for nancy. freedom from her trauma, all the stresses that have been weighing on her for the last four seasons. while, right now, jonathan is knee deep in it all. he hasn’t even begun to pull himself out of it! let alone contemplate how to properly help nancy. he thinks ignoring her and pushing away his problems is the best way to deal with it, but we can see that it isn’t (if s2 stancy taught us anything lol). could jonathan grow out of that in the space of, what, five episodes? i don’t know.

steve’s development up to this point has taken multiple seasons. but he’s grown as a person. he’s learnt. his relationships have helped him become a more well-rounded person. the kind of person willing to prioritise nancy. to help her heal.

none of this means that stancy will definitely be endgame! because ultimately none of us know what the duffers are truly going to do. the fact that they’re willing to deviate from their original plans, if anything, proves that we can’t necessarily put all our eggs in one basket lol. but i do think they have a chance.

#stancy #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #asks #anon

[doctor-badadvice]

They don't make shows like they used to. Remember when Shredder was a professional furry maker? Or Krang, probably the funniest alien ever. Or even Irma from Channel 6 who was willing to shag a comedically offensive Italian stereotype, a robocop and master Splinter, in this order, in just a handful of episodes!

Well, I didn't. I haven't watched ‘87 TMNT in like, two decades on a tv channel that doesn't even exist anymore. This has been one hell of a ride and I'm only at season 3.

So for the longest time Baxter in my mind was just some guy who got turned into a fly for reasons. I didn't even know he was white or basically Gollum. He seriously had a slimy vibe before starring in The Fly and I had no idea.

But 2003 Baxter Stockman is simply on another level. He's smart, greedy and so damn full of himself. He’s also incredibly dramatic! Half the show’s budget would have gone into animating him doing dramatic poses if he didn’t get dismembered.

And it’s no surprise this is the same man who took time to program the mousers to wag their tails. He's great and deserves a Nobel prize (just so he'll stop putting himself in situations for five minutes).

But that’s just scraping the surface and this is a good time to poke @teenagemutantninjatrauma as requested.

(insert the Charlie Day meme I still haven’t had time to draw)

As I was saying, I feel like Baxter deserves more recognition. He's a regular human in a world with mutant turtles, superpowered secret agents and alien war criminals and man, he doesn't give a single fuck about any of it.

He also doesn't have many limbs left but does he have any regrets? Does he ever stop running his mouth? Hell no. Shredder isn’t safe from his snarky remarks—

Shredder isn’t safe. One of my favorite moments from the early seasons is when Baxter crashes the epic showdown between Shredder and the turtles with a mecha he apparently whipped up in an afternoon (like the girlboss he is) and they go

Leo: What do we have to do to stop this guy?

Shredder: I have asked myself that question many times

And no amount of torture made him less of a vengeful bitch. Baxter attacked Shredder again after that until one of his betrayal plots finally worked and he ran off to have fun with the EPF like

These two are truly something.

It’s funny to go back to the early episodes to see Baxter go “Giant mutant turtles? Time for a dissection >:)”. It’s like these two were made to work together from the start.

Again, I’ve said before that the only reason Bishop doesn’t have to fear as much is that he’s somehow a far better employer than you’d expect. Baxter is looking for a way to make himself a new viable body, not a mecha since I’m sure dealing with sensory deprivation for so long must be awful. But much to Bishop’s dismay, I’m sure, not even he is safe. And if you think about it, Stockman (derogatory) is the one who gets the closest to murdering Bishop. Twice!

Yes, technically the first time it was an accident since the genetics lab blowing up wasn't planned. But he really went “Fuck it. I’m murdering the President today.” and it almost worked!

So really, it’s best to stay on Baxter’s good side. He can’t fight but he will find a way to kill you if he hates you enough.

#tmnt 2003 #baxter stockman #I stop talking about the grumpy old man to discuss another grumpy old man #who is married™️ to the former but neither is aware of it #the man's a menace #they put him in a jar because spraying him with water wasn't enough to stop his shenanigans