#mine falls under the first category

[misterbrick42-slaytheprincess]

there are two types of STP aus:

you and the Princess are somewhere else

Some form of role reversal

please prove me wrong

[namism]

Hi! Can I request a Zoro x reader who's mihawks daughter, I think it would be a funny scenario bc he would have to get his approval first lol

with wine, zoro | roronoa zoro

➳ categories: canonverse, female reader

➳ word count: 1.9k

➳ summary: Who knew that the mysterious Dracule Mihawk had a daughter? Zoro certainly didn't, but now that he's fallen head over heels for her, he supposes he has to do something quickly.

➳ notes: i adore this request! this is by far the one fic of mine that i would proudly reread without cringing because it's funny 😭

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"Psst!"

Zoro looks to his left. Slowly, Perona floats past him with her stuffed animal Kumashi in one hand, the other holding her parasol.

"Where were you last night?" she asks.

Zoro ignores her and goes back to whatever he was working on.

"Were you outside again?" Persistent as ever, Perona floats in front of him and blocks his line of sight. "You must have visited that girl from the tower!"

"How do you know her?" Zoro snaps. Perona smiles to herself smugly.

"A-ha! I knew it! You and that girl are together, aren't you? You disappear so often, I can't believe I hadn't caught on until yesterday!"

Zoro grumbles under his breath. Walking past her, he asks Perona what she's bothering him for, to which she replies with her uniquely annoying laugh, one that Zoro has heard too many times over the course of the eight months they've been together on Kuraigana Island. Her Hollows fly around her as she bursts into a fit, bearing an expression of mockery on their translucent faces.

"Just bothering you," she answers. Zoro picks up the weights he was lifting moments ago and proceeds to ignore her again, but she continues to pester him. "What is she to you? A friend? A girlfriend?"

Zoro huffs in annoyance. "Why do you bother?"

"Because this island is boooring!"

"Find something to work on," he suggests.

It's Perona's turn to show her annoyance. Hovering over Zoro, she extends her arms and spreads out her fingers toward him.

"Negative Ho—!"

"She's a friend!" Zoro yells in panic. Perona stops her Hollow attack with a flick of a finger. "She's... special... can you get those stupid ghosts away from my face?"

"Wow. You aren't as unemotional as I thought." Blinking rapidly, Perona's hands fall to her waist. Zoro always seemed withdrawn like Mihawk, so she never pictured him as the type of guy to hold any romantic feelings for anyone.

A light blush coats Zoro's cheeks. He looks away shyly but composes himself apace. He can't be vulnerable in front of Perona—she would tease him for ages.

Perona has different plans, though. She would tease him if it were about anything else, but she's smack dab in the middle of nowhere, and her boredom convinces her to be more considerate than pesky. Besides, she's been annoying toward Zoro enough. It's time to compensate.

Using her powers, she conjures a Special Hollow and orders it to pick the swordsman in its mouth. Zoro drops his sword and flails his arms around helplessly. With a manic laugh, Perona flies to the castle with the Hollow trailing after her.

"Let's get you a girlfriend!"

Zoro didn't know what to expect when Perona dragged him back to Mihawk's shady castle, but the events that transpired were definitely not in his top 5 guesses.

Perona held him at gunpoint—just her Negative Hollows, really—and told him to list all the things he likes about you. When that didn't work because Zoro was too flustered to speak, she concocted the perfect plan that is guaranteed to win your heart over, should he execute it properly.

Right now, Zoro stands in front of you with his hands crossed over his chest. It's the morning of the plan's execution, but facing you brings him back to the first time he stepped foot in your dwelling.

Ever since he and Perona were teleported to Kuraigana Island eight months ago, he found himself exploring (or rather, getting lost around) the island that apparently housed Dracule Mihawk's residence. He lives in the abandoned castle of the now fallen Muggy Kingdom that stands in the middle of the dense forests, just a few kilometers away from a lone tower nestled in between the trees.

When Zoro explored (got lost) too far, he scouted the tower and found you there, sleeping peacefully. You shot up from your bed in panic and used your swords to attack, but Zoro had backed you into a corner. Afraid, you begged him for your life and proved your innocence.

Zoro had no business with a random girl he met on a random Tuesday, who was stuck in a random tower on a random island he was magicked into. Yet you eventually charmed him with your abilities, earning his trust and respect to a degree close to acquaintances. As time went by, you started getting flirtatious that crossed the line of "just friends," leading Zoro to feel a mutual fondness for you that he couldn't quite communicate.

That leads him to his current predicament. As he waits for your reply to his quiet confession, he prepares himself for what's to come.

"It doesn't take one to figure out that I'm fond of you, too," you tell him with a soft smile. "However, you have to ask someone first."

Zoro isn't surprised by your reciprocity, but he's surprised by the latter. Whose consent does he have to ask for?

"Who is it?"

"My father."

Zoro furrows his brows.

"You live alone."

"Well, yes! I live alone in the tower."

Suddenly, the front door of your home is kicked open. You turn on your heel to greet the visitor, while Zoro watches intently.

Mihawk appears at the doorway.

"Good morning, love. Sorry for my entrance. Are you in the middle of something?"

You run over to the man and help him with the bags of groceries in his arms. Hauling them over to the kitchen counter, you invite him inside the building.

"We were, but it's just Zoro. No big deal."

Mihawk looks at the swordsman, one eyebrow raising in curiosity at his presence.

Meanwhile, Zoro tries to understand what's happening. The fact that you know Mihawk isn't shocking since you've lived on the island your whole life, but being called 'love'? Zoro doesn't mean to be possessive, but he has a problem with that.

"I guess my student has become acquainted with my daughter," says Mihawk nonchalantly before helping you unpack your groceries.

At that moment, Zoro wishes to be eaten alive by the island mandrills.

What. The. Fuck. He thinks. Daughter?!

"Daughter?!" he repeats aloud.

"Mm-hmm! I don't live in the castle. This tower is far better than that ominous place." You hum to yourself. Looking at Mihawk, you grin sheepishly. "Sorry, Father."

"Doesn't matter. Your absence gave the ghost girl a room to her liking."

Nearby, Zoro hears a faint gasp.

Clasping your hands together, you approach Zoro slowly. You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, a look that has Zoro going crazy.

"Well, my father is here. Would you like to ask him now?"

But the admission of your relationship to Mihawk, his master, is far crazier. Zoro doesn't have the time to be wooed in by your cuteness because he feels like an idiot for not having caught on to this fact much earlier.

Your swordsmanship, your demeanor, your aptitude for many other things—Zoro understands it now. There is no questioning your abilities when you had genetically inherited them from someone. You're Mihawk's daughter, and you had always been.

"Is something the matter?" you ask softly.

Zoro loses the color on his face. He feels dizzy.

Floating right outside the tower's open window, Perona makes a face of surprise as she eavesdrops on the conversation.

"Shoot," she cusses quietly before flying away.

"I can't remember the last time I've witnessed anything more devastating than falling for your master's daughter," Perona ponders aloud, causing Zoro to glare at her as he nearly hyperventilates. "Calm down! We can do something about it!"

Zoro grits his teeth at Perona's poor attempt to cheer him up. Coming from the ghost girl who knows nothing but to attack people with her depressive powers, her optimism is anything but helpful.

"You said you spied on her a few times in the past. Did you not know this?!" Zoro shouts.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't intrude enough!" Perona yells back. "You didn't even bother asking your girlfriend what her full name was! Ugh, you tire me out—you're unbelievable!"

After Perona fled the scene, Zoro followed in horror. He looked too disturbed that you offered to escort him back to the castle so that he could take a deep breath and process the situation. However, Zoro excused himself and instead ran down the spiral steps of your tower, disappearing into the forest that led him back to the castle.

Having reunited with Perona in her bedroom (that was apparently yours before she teleported to the island), Zoro admits that she has the right to insult him. Zoro never asked for your family name, and you never told him about it either. He thought you were an orphan since you had always lived alone, and it wasn't rare for people in the Grand Line to be secretive of their family.

Still, he feels like an idiot. Despite looking different from your father (you must have taken after your mother in appearance), you're incredibly trained with a sword, and you have a familiar aura around you. Zoro should have connected the dots together and theorized that you're Mihawk's daughter, but it's too late for that now.

He isn't mad by all means, but he curses the old man for not even telling him. He's been living under his roof for the past eight months, for goodness' sake!

Perona floats in front of him, twirling her hair.

"What are you going to do now?" she asks.

Zoro doesn't respond. He's clueless.

"Me either," she says. She flies around the room, thinking to herself. "Well, only a coward would accept defeat in courting a woman. Get back there and ask for her father's blessing!"

Zoro clenches his fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

"Help me with something."

Many hours later, Mihawk comes back from his day visit at your tower. Tired from today's events, he decides to lock himself in his bedroom and take some time reading the newspaper over a glass of wine. To his dismay, he seems to have run out.

Thus, he immerses himself in the newspaper, wine-less, thinking it's good to cut down on the liquor for a while. In the middle of it, a knock sounds on his door, followed by a soft clink of glass. Mihawk waits for a minute to pass before standing up from his seat and peeking out the door to investigate the sound.

Whoever had knocked is now long gone. Instead, there sits by his foot a bottle of unopened wine and a piece of parchment. Mihawk collects the items and retreats to his bedroom.

He opens the bottle and pours himself a drink. Then, he settles back in his armchair and finishes the newspaper before picking up the parchment.

"A letter," he says to himself. He reads.

Thank you for taking me under your wing.

I'm sorry for running out earlier. I like her, and I stand by that.

Have this for now.

With wine, Zoro

Mihawk drops the letter on his lap and takes another sip. He laughs to himself.

The next day, he calls Zoro to his room as he reads the daily newspaper with careful sips of the gifted wine. As Zoro speaks, having swallowed his pride another time in front of the man, Mihawk leans back into his chair, seemingly pleased.

With wine or not, he was going to give his permission anyway.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[talesofadragon]

𝟓𝟎 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

Summary: In a twist of fate, the seemingly heartless and enigmatic Draco Malfoy found himself falling deeply in love. His affection for Y/N knew no bounds, but he couldn't resist the temptation to test her patience. However, when he succumbs to the advances of a particular Slytherin girl, he soon realizes that he may have gotten more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Sexual themes. Minors DNI.

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Genre: Fluff | Smut  

Word count: 2.1K

All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰. Unapologetically and effortlessly, those people embrace the lackluster, emanating an aura that brings the moons and the stars of the universe to their knees. 

Draco Malfoy fell into that category. 

In the middle of the raging lights and the tumultuous fray, he sat back in the dark corner of the Slytherin Common Room, leisurely sipping a glass of Firewhiskey. At first glance, he was imposing. Veiny fingers, undoubtedly dexterous in their deathly ministrations. A chiseled jaw that commanded obedience from every man. And eyes that, although we’re mesmerizing pools of silver, held a hint of acidic intensity with every gaze.

Draco Malfoy was thought to be darkness in human form. Perhaps several individuals would concur, whether out of fascination or apprehension. But that was because none of them saw him through my eyes. 

In his nights, I saw the moon. In his shades of obsidian, I found depths unknown. In his prowess, I sought the nightjar, whose darkened plumage painted my soul with a mesmerizing array of vibrant hues.

And I despised, abhorred, anyone who dared to try and get close enough to bask in his glow.

“Y/N, sometimes I regret ever introducing you to Draco,” Clarissa remarked. I shot her an unimpressed glance. She continued dancing without missing a beat, leaving me the only one standing idle in the middle of a crowded room. “You have that devilish look in your eyes.” 

“Well, the she-devil has her eyes, and hands, all over him.” 

Clarissa's lips twitched, forming an amused grin. Her gaze shifted towards the girl with dark hair and an extremely form-fitting dress, which left little to the imagination, who shamelessly ran her hand along my boyfriend's arm.

“He’s not even looking at her.” 

“He’s letting her touch him!” 

“He’s not.” She rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment. One of her hands took mine, urging me to dance to the upbeat tone of the music that engulfed us. “He’s looking at you and is most likely enjoying getting under your skin.” 

“He’s being a dick,” I groaned in frustration. Clarissa was giving me her “well duh” expression. 

“He’s Draco. If you ask about him, you’ll have a porn site worth of dick picks and stories that perfectly describe your aggravating boyfriend.” 

I arched an eyebrow, subconsciously convincing myself that it was a common behavior and not something unique to Draco. “Remind me again what his relationship to your boyfriend is. Oh, that’s right, he’s his brother.” 

“Atlas is a sweetheart! Sometimes, I sincerely think he was adopted,” she argued. 

“Clearly not,” I countered. I nudged my head toward the table, catching sight of the girl in the navy dress leaning her body closer to my boyfriend’s chest. “If he’s licking his lips at the sight of that girl’s cleavage.” 

Clarissa whipped her head at the speed of light. I was surprised her neck didn’t snap. Her rage immediately molded into distaste when she noticed that Atlas wasn’t licking his lips as I said, but he was straining his neck, attempting to look away from the boob job that was begging for attention. 

“She’s a bitch.” 

“As am I,” I replied swiftly. Clarissa frowned, glancing back at me. By that time, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor had already begun, even though the music drowned out their noise.

Draco seemed impervious to the blaring musical notes as his silver eyes locked onto mine, capturing my movement. He had the audacity to smirk against the rim of his glass, going as far as to open the palm of his hand, indulging in the girl’s ministrations. 

Atlas, seated on the same couch as his brother but a few feet away, wore a bemused expression. He bit his lip, gaze wandering between me and Clarissa, who was trailing after me. 

As I crossed the two steps that separated me from my boyfriend, the harsh clicking of my heels echoed through the room. The blush on my cheeks seemed to mirror the hue of my dress, drawing attention toward me. Perfect, I inwardly mused, locking eyes with Draco. He observed my every move with his now grey irises, resembling a tempestuous landscape anticipating the thunder to unleash its chaos.

Confident and without a hint of hesitation, I made my way to his table, disregarding the curious onlookers, the girl with longing eyes, and even our friends. Choosing to ignore them all, I straddled his lap, allowing our lips to collide.

He must have expected my harshness or maybe my fire, but it was clear that he hadn’t anticipated my dominance. Draco Malfoy faltered, proved by the sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the shrieks of the nameless woman beside us. 

One of his hands fisted the fabric of my dress, clinging to the small of my back, while the other slithered into my hair. My hands, on the other hand, assaulted his neck. One wrapped itself around it while the other trekked down his collarbone, swiftly uncaging the second button of his shirt. 

As expected, Draco tried to dominate the kiss, attempting to force my tongue into submission. And while on a regular day, when my body was electrified by the dominance of his touch and my consciousness succumbed to the pressure of his pleasuring body, I would have relented. Today was anything but a regular one. 

I pushed past the overwhelming ecstasy that clouded my racing thoughts, attempting to transform them into incoherent murmurs, and assaulted Draco’s tongue. His hands began to trail my body, the one in my hair errantly moving towards my own neck. 

Immediately, I tightened my hold around his neck, restricting him further from the air we both so desperately craved. He gasped, hands falling to my waist and clutching me tighter. I teased him, bringing my lips close to his, allowing him to steal the breath coming out of my own mouth and greedily take it for himself. 

It lasted no more than two seconds because I knew this was a punishment and not a reward. I dove in again. Tongue-first, exploring the walls and ceiling of his mouth. Draco couldn’t keep his own tongue at bay, and I didn’t want him to. Before he could coax me into accepting his sensual offer, I let go of his lower lip and sucked on his tongue. 

Draco moaned. A sound that was both undiluted and unrestrained; I was sure he had forgotten where he was. His hips jolted, searching for friction. And when I didn’t grant it willingly, his hand found my thighs and hoisted me up until I was shamelessly grinding on him. 

“Moan for me,” he commanded huskily, voice breaking at the seams from being a captive of pleasure. 

I didn’t just want to moan. I wanted to roar from the way his crotch caressed my clothed pussy, squeezing the juices out of me and letting them trail down my thighs. 

But I didn’t. “Moan for me,” I rebuked, letting my fingers cradle the nape of his neck, pulling on his silver locks. Another moan rippled through the air, reaching my clit. And I knew if I didn’t stop any time soon, I would be the one moaning and begging on this very couch. “Good boy.” 

Draco’s eyes widened at the remark, his sharp eyes piercing mine. Immediately, I let go of him, standing up.

I dusted my dress, adjusting the neckline which almost exposed my breasts completely. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I commented with feigned innocence. This particular area only had a handful of students huddled around, and the one closest to us was a mere few feet away. The girl beside my boyfriend, Pansy Parkinson, didn't need an education to understand that I was directing my words at her.

Her jaw ticked, breath coming out ragged—maybe she was having a sex marathon in her head, getting off on the thought of my boyfriend and me. “I wish I hadn’t seen you at all,” she conceded, hastily scurrying away.

As she left, I saw Clarissa standing behind me. A shadow of confusion crossed over her features, quickly replaced by amusement. “Well, now that she’s gone. Why don’t we give Draco a few minutes to hide that bulge he’s sporting? Atlas, wanna dance?” 

“After what just happened, I won't let any chance slip away to have you close to me, Clares.” He wasted no time getting up. He side-eyed his brother for a moment, unable to hide his smirk. “Here.” Atlas reached out for his Elf Wine, extending it to Draco. “You look flushed. Why don’t you cool off a bit like a good boy?” 

Ignoring our collective laughter, Draco swatted the glass away from his face. He regarded me with an air of irritation, his pupils heavily dilated. 

“Remember when I warned you that it’s much harder for men to mask their wants? Bet you wish you were less of a dick now,” I taunted, earning myself a loud cheer from Atlas and an uproarious laugh from Clarissa. 

Draco had yet to say anything, and I knew he was meticulously considering the retributions he would inflict upon me for this audacious move. But I didn’t care. With a skip in my step, I turned around and strutted away. But before I could make my grand escape, a hand firmly wrapped around my wrist, halting my movements. In the blink of an eye, I was flung onto the couch, landing right where my boyfriend had been sitting just seconds before.

“Draco!” Atlas chastised. He was already taking a step forward, visibly astounded by his brother’s brisk action. Even Clarissa was worried. 

But I wasn’t. 

Draco didn’t spare either of them a glance as he let his gaze fall onto mine. The pools of silver were sizzling, menacing, and fierce—ready to consume me whole. But they were also lustrous, encasing ardent desire. And I found myself getting far more aroused than afraid by the visceral passion they exuded. 

Draco took three meaningful steps toward me, his agile strides reminding me that I was the prey to his snake. He stopped at a short distance, letting one of his hands extend to the back of the couch while the other casually reached for an abandoned shot on our table. 

“Open that sinful mouth of yours, Y/N.” I obeyed. Because if I didn’t, I would self-combust. Screw whatever punishment the devil has for me. I would take it without another word if it meant relieving some of that desire between my legs. “Good girl. Take it all, but don’t you dare swallow yet,” Draco demanded as he filled my mouth with the electrifying drink. 

My eyes welled up, stinging from the searing pain that consumed my mouth and pierced my heart, yet I resisted the urge to close them. Draco disregarded the empty shot glass and tenderly stroked my cheek with his free hand. The weight of the onlookers' gazes bore down on us, but I felt a profound sense of gratitude that the Malfoys were influential and esteemed enough that no one would dare intervene in what they were witnessing.

I squeaked when Draco took my cheek between his fingers and forced the burning drink outside of my mouth. I could feel my heart shuddering as the liquid trailed down my neck to my chest and the valley of my breasts. 

I couldn’t stop staring at Draco while desperately clenching my thighs. Of course, he was too engrossed with the trek the alcohol was taking down my body. 

“Draco,” I whined, practically begging for his touch. The bastard smirked, ever so slowly coming closer. 

“Starshine,” he breathed against my breasts. Immediately, his hand sneaked down, reaching for my thighs. His fingers dug deep into my skin. I moaned, then I cried out in pleasure when his tongue darted out of his mouth, tracing the remains of the alcohol all the way from my chest to my mouth. He hovered over my lips, his silent exhale caressing my mouth. “If I were any less of a dick, I’m sure you’d still cry out for me.”

He pushed himself off my body, the sheer abruptness of his actions causing me to wince. “Wh—”

“Go dance, Y/N,” he said. No, he dared. It was obvious what he was doing. Bold and bright in the middle of the night. He knew I needed him, craved him. And he reveled in the thought. 

So, I did what any sane woman would do. I straightened my hair, fixed my clothes, and rushed to his arms. “I wanna dance with you,” I whispered against his lips. He met mine in a sensual dance, and before I knew it, he was already leading me out of the Common Room and into his arms.

Draco Taglist:

@imabee-oralizard @ameliaphoenix @arcana-greenleaf @dittos-blog-dylanobrien

So this happened unexpectedly. Slightly inspired by that one scene from Culpa Mia (My Fault). Hope y’all like it.💚

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - Signs they Got a Crush: Vees DLC

I wrote two of these characters along with the original post then just went 'ah fuck it' and decided to make a Vee dedicated post. So here are some dumb headcanons about how Valentino, Velvette, and Vox act when they start getting crushes.

The other crush post (plus my other work) can be found on my masterlist >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; Valentino's section is a giant sexual harassment lawsuit; other then that, they all just really suck at this whole 'feelings' thing (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Valentino ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Valentino also falls into the 'not subtle' category. Not like he actually tries or anything. As far as he is concerned, its just a matter of time before you like him, if you don't already.

What little concept of personal space Valentino had goes right out the window. Your space is his space now.

Constantly has one of his hands on your shoulder, an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, or is just generally circling you like a predator. If for some reason he can't touch you, he sure as heck isn't leaving your personal bubble.

When you sit down, Valentino sits right next to you, with your sides/hips touching. That is, if he isn't just pulling you to sit in his lap instead. Thinks his lap is the best throne in the land and is always patting a hand on his thigh, offering for you to sit there.

The other thing Valentino does constantly, regardless of if you accept or not (or even if your comfortable with it), is ask you to come "supervise" his porn shoots.

You get the feeling its less 'supervision', and more he wants you to be there for him to tease and/or use as a toy during said shoot.

If you actually work in the porn industry, Valentino will say the reason he wants you to be there is so you can help him 'teach' some of his actors. If your not in the porn industry, Valentino will say he just wants some 'outsider' perspective on his films. Its all bullshit obviously. Valentino just wants you in his lap looking pretty while his dick is hard.

The other big thing (which I've mentioned before but its just a hard headcanon of mine okay), is that Valentino starts sweet talking you in Spanish. When he gets comfortable with someone, it just becomes natural for him to start slipping back into his native language.

Most of the time, its Valentino just mumbling something teasing under his breathe in a language you cant even understand. Other times he is a bit bolder and will whisper something absolutely nasty in your ear. You have no idea what he actually said, but Valentino's tone and proceeding chuckle definitely made you shiver.

Valentino will also start using more casual petnames like cariño (darling, sweetie) or gatito/gatita (kitten) when talking to you. Valentino is very partial to using these types of names with those who he endears in general. If your wondering, yes; he has called Vox 'my gatito' before.

SUMMERY: 🦋 Is always touching you in one way or another 🦋 Wants you sitting on his lap 24/7 🦋 Invites you to come ""supervise"" his porn shoots 🦋 Starts speaking to you in Spanish more; uses Spanish nicknames for you

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Velvette ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

She talks about you. Alot. Velvette won't even realize when this starts to become a habit. She just... kinda does it. Velvette will just randomly bring you up in conversation and things will constantly remind her of you. You two dont even have to interact much and Velvette will still find ways to tell stories about you.

This is why everyone is going to know about her little crush before you do. Velvette hardly praises anyone, not even the other Vees. So her talking about you like you two are besties makes everyone turn their heads.

This one might seem condescending at first, but trust me, its just Velvette not knowing how to flirt to save her life. Velvette will start complimenting you but at the same time trying to fix you. So it comes across as some weird backhanded compliment.

Some examples of what Velvette will say when she sees you: 🎀 "Oh! Your hair is SO on point today, darling! Hmm... You know what outfit I think would look even better with it?" 🎀 "That is SUCH a cute hairpin. And EARRINGS!! But--uh. Huh. I think a lower necklace would look better, don't you?" 🎀 "That jacket really suits you! But you need a little something to bring out your eyes... Your eyes always shine when you have something blue on ya."

Stalks you on social media. Kind of a given. Velvette tries to be super careful about it and not give herself away since she is literally the social media queen. She is too scared to actually tag you in anything but will comment on your posts once and awhile.

Velvette will also go through your entire timeline by the way. The moment you start to suspect something is up is when Velvette accidentally likes a post from 5 years ago.

Or it happens when the two of you are talking one day and Velvette references a post you made as if it just happened. You give her a weird look and tell her that post was from like, three years ago. Velvette's normally blasé demeanor cracks and she has to excuse herself to go scream.

If your also a social media person or creative in anyway, Velvette will ask for your feedback constantly. She will send you drafts of her posts before they go live and ask what you think. If Velvette is feeling particularly brave (or is drunk enough), she might send you a fake thirst trap post for some ""feedback"". ¬‿¬

She will use you alot for brainstorming, particularly at night or when she is drunk. Velvette will just text you a bunch of raw, unfiltered ideas for posts or new design ideas. It doesn't even matter if you respond. You'll just wake up some mornings with 100+ unread messages. Yes; Velvette does expect you to go through all of them and tell her what you like and don't like.

I think, deep down, Velvette wants a s/o who isn't just a romantic partner, but a business one too. A real partner in crime if you will. So her constantly throwing ideas at you and asking for feedback is her way of testing you. Seeing if you can match her creativity and energy.

SUMMERY: 🎀 Brings you up in casual conversations with other people. Constantly gets reminded of you. 🎀 Gives you compliments; but tries to fix you at the same time 🎀 Stalks you on social media. Has your entire timeline memorized. 🎀 Asks you for feedback on her work and posts; uses you as an idea filter and tests your creativity

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Honestly? The most surefire way you can tell Vox cares about you is that he makes room in his schedule for you. I'm not even talking just in a romantic sense here. If Vox cares about you at all, he will find time for you. Otherwise he will just be like 'I'm busy, shove it'.

The way you know if you've gone from a person in Vox's life that he values to him actually being head over heels for you, is if you suddenly are more important then his schedule.

When you text him 'are you busy?', instead of him asking why and seeing if he can fit you in somewhere, Vox just fucking drops everything, rushes over to you, and asks what you need.

Mr. ""Progressive"" here has no idea how modern flirting works. So he defaults to what he knows; old school 50s courting. Which honestly results in him desperately pining more then anything.

Jumps at the chance to pay for anything and insists on it. This is mostly due to residual toxic masculinity from the 50s. Back then the man always paid for everything and the biggest asset in dating was your ability to take care of a partner (aka, money).

So yeah. Vox is going to pay for everything and is going to use every opportunity he can to flex his wealth. While this behavior comes across very differently in todays culture, in Vox's head he is basically going 'I can take care of you so hard baby (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧'

Takes any opportunity to be around you. Even if you two don't talk much (or at all), just being in your orbit is enough for him. Watches you from afar and takes mental notes of everything. Especially what makes you laugh. Vox swears that when he hears you laugh, he starts glitching out.

He also loves to see you working. Vox thinks your concentrated face is absolutely adorable. He will often opt to just watch from afar instead of approaching you and interrupting what your doing.

You know how I mentioned Vox notices everything? I mean it. He is hyperaware when it comes to someone he is crushing on. You will casually mention a show you like one time and Vox will bring it up again months later when he finally found the time to watch it.

In my opinion, this is the biggest, most glaring flag that is going to tip you off that Vox has feelings for you. Because it will just throw you for a loop sometimes. Vox will get you something in your favorite color, he shows up with your favorite drink, or the perfect coffee, and you don't even remember telling him that information.

So you side-eye him and ask how he knew the exact way you liked your coffee. Vox starts sweating bullets and lies that you two had a conversation about the 'proper' way to drink coffee. See, he remembers it specifically because he thought it was hilarious; its not surprising you don't remember it! It wasn't actually that special...

Of course, Vox is way too embarrassed to tell you that the real reason he knew the way you liked your coffee is because he remembered your exact order from the one time you two got coffee together weeks ago.

Vox is honestly just a puppydog when he is crushing. He really wants your attention but has no idea how to actually get it without fucking it up. And he is so afraid of fucking it up.

SUMMERY: 📺 Sets his entire schedule on fire if you need him 📺 Spends money like its water. Never brings up you paying him back or the cost of anything unless its to tell you not to worry about it. 📺 Always seems to be around you. Watches you from afar 📺 Remembers everything; notices small details about you

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

For an adorable Vox love realization, check out >>this post<< by @bad-and-drawn-that-way

I also highly recommend >>this post<< by @gargoy-ross on what each of the Vee's ideal s/o would be like

[ribb0ngirl]

𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 ౨ৎ

by a girl living in a shitty household for my girls (or guys, nonbinaries, etc.) living in shitty households ♡

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝚑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑒𝑚

♡ Trying to change people who don't want to change or don't even acknolledge the fact that they have to change is literally pointless. Instead, try to focus on what you can control, such as how you respond to your parents, your choices, and your behavior.

𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝚑 𝑤𝚑𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑎𝑟𝑒

♡ Trust is a crucial element of healthy relationships, so consider only sharing personal information with those who have proven themselves trustworthy. Your parents probably don't fall under this category if they:

gossip about you

criticize you

share things about you without your permission

use what you tell them against you

You don't have to tell them everything (or anything) that's going on in your life. Only share mundane stuff if your parents are nosy (like mine)

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠' 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

♡ So an example of this could be: If you know that your parents become forgetful, aggressive, or otherwise difficult after a certain time of day, try to interact with them earlier in the day to avoid the worst of their behavior. But this doesn't mean that you should plan your life around your parents. You can work around their limitations if that works for you. Always put yourself first in this situation.

𝚑𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑦

♡ When things start to take a turn for the absolute worse have a plan to leave, like an excuse. Obviously don't use the same one every time but here are a few:

homework/studying

a chore (washing the dishes, cleaning your room, etc.)

friend hangout you're late to

errand

Personally I totally overuse having homework or studying

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘

♡ I know how tempting it is to want to yell at your parents, talk back or straight up disagree or correct them when they are clearly in the wrong. But I've learned the hard way that it makes your life so much easier if you just suck it up, I know it sucks but just go along with what they say, that way the aftermath won't be that bad or not even bad at all.

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓

♡ Dealing with toxic parents can be stressful. That stress can take a toll on your physical and mental health. It’s important that you make self-care a priority.

𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝚑𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝚑𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑔 ♡

[ceilidho]

forced throuple (soap/ghost/reader)

i've been ruminating on this idea for awhile, that basically after the Alone campaign and after getting out of Las Almas, Ghost more or less decided that Soap is his person. sort of like his pack. and it's only obvious that anyone Soap considers family would also get lumped into his pack as well.

Ghost doesn't keep very many people close - even those that he considers close (Price, Gaz, Roach, etc), he keeps at something of a distance. this is exemplified by the way he still clings to the possibility of betrayal (like telling Soap that "people you trust can hurt you the most"), but after Las Almas, I think something flips in him.

There's a switch that's been off for years, maybe even close to a decade, and it flips back online when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes and it twists something in his chest. I don't think he would've even had something like that before, definitely not during his youth when he was still overcoming his childhood trauma and certainly not after everything that lead up to Simon becoming Ghost.

I don't even think Ghost would be particularly upset if Soap came back from leave one day with a girlfriend; he trusts Soap's judgment completely. And once he sees her for himself, pretty as pie tucked under his sergeant's arm (all small and doe eyed, smart as a whip when she opens her mouth), all that does is confirm his assumption.

It takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost's brain to file her under "mine", slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn't that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

Soap would be distinctly uncomfortable at first. There's a fine line between having Ghost's undivided attention (and oh, he eats it up at first, struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy for being Ghost's favourite and abject curiosity/horror) and having Ghost's....complete....undivided....attention.

Like Soap just wants to parade his new girlfriend around (she's sweet but snippy, everything he's ever wanted in a partner) in front of his colleagues, but then Ghost gropes her ass in front of everyone on base (because by then, Ghost has already started to think of the two of them as 'his' in his head) and Soap just stares, mouth dry, absolutely humiliated but no idea what to do (he's just thinking over and over again, "Do I tell him to stop, what do I DO??")

Because Ghost is his buddy, his best friend, his CO - Soap trusts Ghost implicitly, would put his whole life in his hands and know that Ghost would keep him safe.

So he doesn't get it at first? Maybe he thinks Ghost is actually interested in his girlfriend and it wrecks him because Soap can see himself really falling for this girl, but Ghost is also like - he's a part of him. He probably briefly does consider just letting Ghost have her, conceding defeat.

Ghost would correct that assumption soooo quick. There isn't a version of him that wants someone who doesn't also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they've been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Soap wants - he almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny's thoughts into his.

Like Soap genuinely likes having all of Ghost's attention on him because he's a bit of an attention whore but it's a bit different when his LT is holding his head down into his girlfriend's pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit.

Worse because Ghost's hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse still when Ghost positions Soap over her, big hands on his hips and Soap has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head spinning, staring down into his girlfriend's eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to sooth her, coo down at her that he's got her and everything's going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and his vision just goes white.

This whooollleeeee au is basically "when a bigger, stronger guy hits on ur gf but it's ok bc he also wants to plow u (her boyfriend)"

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Before I called You Mine

Chapter 16

Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir AU

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son.

Turning the Page Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series.

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match.

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will have crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors.

Words: 2.8k

Before I Called You Mine Chapter 16

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley celebrate their engagement in Paris, France. Leo confronts Madeleine as she arrives unannounced at the palace. Drake and Maxwell, along with Bastien, take William and Bartie to the Eiffel Tower.

Title and Music Inspiration:

I Get to Love You, Ruelle

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’)

‘One look at you, my whole life falls in line...

I prayed for you, before I called you mine...

Oh I, can’t believe it’s true, sometimes...

Oh I, can’t believe it’s true.’

The Suite Impériale at the Ritz, Paris, France

Riley’s P.O.V.

As soon as the door closed behind us, the lock clicked into place leaving the King's guardsmen outside in the hall to stand on guard for their King. Not wasting any time, Liam wrapped his powerful arms around my waist, snugly pulling me flush to his hard body. Tilting my head up, his lips crash with mine as he kissed me, softly at first, then more urgently. My hands moved to his hair, to his broad shoulders, to his hips, pulling him even closer. His fingers danced across my skin, and I shivered.

His kisses leave my lips and travel down the column of my neck, and across my collarbone. My eyes flutter closed as his lips and tongue and teeth explore my skin. I'm lost in the sensation, his touch.

His masculine scent envelopes me ... and possesses me.

I run my hands up under his shirt, feeling his taut, chiseled physique.

He pulled away and gazed down at me. I look up and meet his gaze. He smiles.

"What?" I coyly simpered.

"You're just so beautiful," he says, his voice low and husky.

I can't help but blush.

"I want you," he says. "More than anything."

"Then take me," I reply, lasciviously.

I feel his fingers reaching for the zipper on the back of my dress. He slowly slides it down, then slips the straps off of my shoulders, my dress pooled around my feet. He looks down at my breasts, his eyes dark with desire. Watching me intently.

"What?” I respond with a soft purr.

"I have waited so long ... fantasized about ... making love to you as my fiancé. And now, you are finally mine.”

My breath hitched at his intensity.

"You're so gorgeous," he continued. "Every inch of you."

He took my hand leading me towards the bed.

He laid me on the bed gently and kissed me deeply, his hands roaming my body. He moved his lips down to my breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth. I gasp as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. He moved to the other breast, and continues to suck and lick, making me moan.

He moved lower, kissing and licking my stomach, then lower, until his teeth tugged my lace thong down between my legs and off. Teasing me more, he made his way back up the inside of my thighs, licking and marking my skin, until I'm writhing beneath him. His large hands spread my thighs, my core exposed to his attention. He brings me to the edge, as his lips and tongue circle and suck my core as it spasms in ecstasy. Moving back up, he trails a featherlight touch with his hand back up my body to my neck, gently palming my throat. Kissing me deeply, he pulled back and rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him.

"I need to watch you, love."

Taking his cue, I straddled him and slowly sank down onto him. He groaned deeply as he filled me, his hands gripped my hips tightly and I can't help but moan, my back arching backward in pleasure.

Thrusting into me, he filled me over and over again.

"Fuck, Riley," he groaned.

He reached up and cupped my breasts in his hands, teasing and squeezing my nipples. The sensations making me gasp.

"Liam..." I cry out.

"Come for me," he says, his voice strained but commanding.

"I... I'm going to come," I gasp.

"Yes, Riley, come for me," he repeats.

His words send me over the edge. My body trembled as the sensation crashed over me. He continud to thrust, and then his body tensed as he fell over the edge with a deep groan.

We lie there, our bodies entwined, after I lift up to lay down beside him. Liam wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing my temple.

"I love you, too."

He kissed the top of my head. "Marry me," he pleads.

I laugh. "I already said yes, silly."

"I know, but I want to hear you say it again," he grinned.

I sit up and look at him. "Liam, I will marry you. I can't wait to be your wife."

He grins. "Good."

He pulls me down back into his arms, enveloping me as we both fall asleep, content and happy.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Cordonian Royal Palace

"Hello, Madeleine. What a surprise," Leo said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He watched her quickly step toward him.

"Leo," she said curtly, her tone cold and distant. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Obviously," he said, matching her icy tone.

"I was looking for Liam," she declared. "Do you know where he is?"

"Why are you looking for my brother?"

"It's none of your business, Leo."

"Actually, it is," he retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Anything that affects my brother's reign is my business."

"This has nothing to do with his reign," she countered, her frustration mounting.

"Then why are you looking for him?"

"I told you, it's none of your business," she snarled, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Maybe not," he said calmly, crossing his arms, blocking her path with his muscled and toned tall frame. "But if it has something to do with the Cordonian monarchy, then I have a right to know."

"I am part of the Cordonian monarchy," she spat. "So, unless you want to get on my bad side, I suggest you stop asking questions and just tell me where Liam is."

"Liam is in Italy, with his fiancé."

Madeleine's eyes widened.

"Fiancé?"

"Yes," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips at her shocked expression. "Liam is engaged."

"To whom?" she demanded, her heart pounding in her chest.

"The same woman who was the front-runner for the crown during his social season," he replied, enjoying watching the shock and anger flash across her face.

"That bitch!" Madeleine hissed, her jaw clenched.

"Now, now, Madeleine," he taunted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's no way to speak about the future Queen of Cordonia."

"She will never be the Queen of Cordonia," she growled, her body trembling with rage.

"Well, I suppose that's up to Liam," he said, the smirk still playing on his lips.

"I'm the Queen of Cordonia," she snapped. "And I will not allow some commoner to steal the throne from me."

"That's not really up to you," he said, his gaze challenging her. "If I remember correctly... he tossed your ass out of his life and Cordonia."

"Don't test me, Leo," she sparred, her voice dangerously low. "You will not like the results."

"Is that a threat, Madeleine?"

"No, it's a promise," she said, her eyes burning with anger.

"Whatever," he replied curtly, waving his hand dismissively. "You're wasting your time here. Liam is gone, and you're not going to find him. He's out of your reach."

"I will not give up," she said, her chin lifting defiantly.

"Then you're a fool," he said, his tone bored. "You can't compete with Riley. She has everything you don't."

"And what is that exactly?"

"She has his heart, for starters," he said, his gaze cold and unwavering.

"Love is for fools," she sneered.

"May..be," he said, his expression darkening. "But that's the one thing you'll never have. And you'll never be able to take it from Riley."

"I'll take everything else," she snorted, her voice filled with venom.

The Suite Impériale at the Ritz, Paris, France

Liam's naked form was a sight to behold. His broad shoulders, muscular back, and toned arms and thighs were a testament to his strength and power.

Riley couldn't help but stare as he walked towards the bathroom, his ass tight and toned. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower starting moments later.

She sat up in bed, her body tingling with desire. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have him as her husband to be, and she was thankful for the many blessings she had been given so far.

As she heard the shower turn on, she slipped out of bed and crept into the bathroom, her body naked and ready. She pushed open the shower door and stepped inside, her eyes fixed on Liam's backside.

He turned, a surprised, but delighted look on his face.

"Riley..."

She moved towards him and into the shower, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his wet and soapy chest.

"I couldn't wait," she whispered.

He chuckled, his hands running over her wet skin.

"I'm glad you didn't," he replied, his voice husky.

He pulled her close, his lips finding hers. The water ran down their bodies, the steam rising around them. They kissed passionately, their bodies pressed together.

Riley moaned as Liam's hands moved over her breasts, her nipples hardening beneath his touch.

Through the water that was streaming down her face Riley kissed her way down his neck. She felt him growing hard against her stomach, and she reached down to wrap her fingers around his length.

"Fuck, Riley..." he groaned, his fingers digging into her ass.

She stroked him, his length thick and hard in her hand. She knew she could make him come with her hand, but she wanted more.

"Liam," she said, looking up at him coquettishly.

Riley slowly slid down to her knees, shamelessly, down the rippling planes of his stomach as her hands felt his muscled thighs. She licked a stripe along his length, eliciting a low growl from Liam.

"Fuck, Riley... that feels so good," he said, his voice low and husky as he slid past her lips.

* Le Café Petit Gourmand

Bartie and William looked through the window of the café, their mouths watering at the sight of the pastries and sweets on display.

"Are you guys hungry?" Maxwell asked.

"Yes!" they both exclaimed.

Maxwell laughed and led them inside. The three of them walked up to the counter, and the boys each picked out a treat.

"Mmm," William hummed, taking a bite of his pastry.

"This is so good," Bartie said, licking icing off his fingers.

Drake, Maxwell and Bastien all smiled at the boys' enjoyment.

"So, where are we headed next?" Drake asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"We should visit the Eiffel tower," Maxwell replied. "It's the best view of the city."

"Okay," Drake said. "But, we need to get back to the hotel in a few hours." Drake looked at Bastien for confirmation.

"His Majesty, wanted the Royal jet ready for 5 p.m. to return to Cordonia," Bastien responded.

"See, we have time," Maxwell replied.

After finishing their pastries and coffee, the group headed towards the Eiffel tower.

The Eiffel Tower was a majestic sight, towering over the city and dominating the skyline. It was a popular tourist attraction, and the lines were long, but Bastien arranged a few shortcuts, and the boys made it to the top without waiting in line for too long.

The view was breathtaking, and the boys stood at the railing, looking out over the city.

"Wow," Bartie breathed.

"It's beautiful," William agreed.

"I wish my mother and Bertrand were here," Bartie said, a little wistful.

"I'm sure they're having a good time," Maxwell replied. "But, we'll tell them about it when we get back."

"Speaking of time, we should head back to the hotel," Drake said.

They rode the elevator back down and made their way back to the hotel.

Bastien's phone beeped as he received a text.

"His Majesty has instructed me to return William to his suite," Bastien announced.

"Alright, see you soon, kid," Drake said.

"Bye, Uncle Drake," William replied, giving him a hug.

"See you on the jet," Maxwell said, ruffling his hair.

Bartie waved as they headed for the elevator.

William and Bastien rode the elevator to the presidential suite. Bastien escorted him to his door, knocking once.

Damien smiled as he held the door open for the young prince.

"Hi, Damien," William said.

"Prince William," Damien bowed slightly. "I'm glad to see you returned safely."

"I had fun," William replied, smiling.

"But I am ready to go home now."

Damen smiled watching William run crashing into Liam, as he held his son in his arms.

'I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you'

Thank you for reading, tags are in the comments. Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from tags.

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents

[ovrour]

YOU DONT LOVE ME ANYMORE’ ─── Chris O. Sturniolo

#FEATURING… Chris sturniolo.

#SUMMARY… Chris’ Ex y/n writes “We find love”. A heartfelt song about him. Through bittersweet lyrics, she reflects on their love, heartbreak, and her journey to healing.

#CATEGORY . . . angst/fluff

#WC . . . 1.2k

#SONG OF CHOICE. . . we find love by daniel caesar

#A/N… hi sweet babies, i know its been awhile since i’ve wrote anything, so i wanted to do a little something for you. i love you all so so so much. i hope u have a happy holiday. oh! and happy early christmas🩵 .

The café smelled like fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls. I sat in my usual spot, the corner booth by the window, staring at the blank page in my journal. Outside, the city bustled with life—cars honking, people laughing, the distant wail of an ambulance. But in here, it was quieter, the hum of conversation blending with the soft acoustic playlist that looped through the speakers.

It should’ve been the perfect place to write, but my mind was a tangled mess.

Chris.

Even now, months after our breakup, his name hovered in my thoughts like a ghost that refused to leave. I couldn’t escape him, not in my dreams, not in the songs I tried to write, not even in this café where we used to sit together, his hand warm against mine as he teased me for adding too much sugar to my coffee.

I sighed and tapped my pen against the table, my journal mocking me with its emptiness. The one line I’d managed to write stared back at me like an accusation:

"You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song”

“Y/N,” Mae’s familiar voice broke through my thoughts. She placed a latte in front of me, the foam swirled into a perfect heart. “You’re brooding again.”

I glanced up at her, forcing a smile. “Not brooding. Just... thinking.”

Mae raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the booth. “Thinking about him?”

I didn’t need to answer; the look on my face was enough. Mae had been there through it all—the late-night calls when I couldn’t stop crying, the mornings when I stumbled in here trying to act like I hadn’t spent the night staring at my phone, hoping for a text from him.

“It’s been months,” she said gently. “You’re allowed to move on, you know.”

“I’m trying,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“See you walking out that door

Wonder why it took you so long”

Mae sighed, sliding into the seat across from me. “Y/N, sometimes moving on isn’t about forgetting someone. It’s about accepting that they’re not meant to stay.”

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy but true. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Mae reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze before heading back to the counter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I picked up my pen again, staring at the blank page. A melody began to form in my head, soft and slow, and I hummed it under my breath.

“Ever since the day that I met you

I knew you were the girl(boy) of my dreams

But we could never be”

The words came hesitantly at first, but the more I wrote, the more they flowed. The song wasn’t just about Chris anymore. It was about all the times I’d tried to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to last.

It was raining the night Chris left.

I could still hear the sound of the rain hitting the windows of my apartment, the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. Chris stood in the doorway, his jacket dripping water onto the floor.

“You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song”

“I just think we’ve grown apart,” he said, his voice calm but firm, like he’d rehearsed the line a hundred times.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my heart pounding. “Grown apart? That’s what you’re going with?”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/N, don’t do this. You know things haven’t been the same.”

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up”

“No, I don’t know,” I shot back. “Because we don’t talk anymore, Chris. You just... shut me out.”

He flinched, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t mean to—”

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up”

“But you did,” I interrupted. “And now you’re standing here, telling me you’re done, like it’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple,” he said, his voice rising for the first time. “Do you think this is easy for me? I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song

You need someone you adore

Find a place where you might belong”

Chris looked at me, his eyes soft but resolute. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But I can’t be the person you need me to be anymore.”

“Ever since the day that I met you

My world's been spinning out of control

I just need you to hold”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to argue, to plead, but no sound came out.

“I’ll always care about you,” he said, stepping closer. “But—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my voice breaking. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked out into the rain, leaving me standing in the doorway, my heart in pieces.

Two weeks later, I found myself standing on a small stage at an open mic night. My guitar felt heavy in my hands, and my heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

“This is a new song,” I said into the microphone, my voice shaking. “It’s about love... and loss... and everything in between.”

The room went silent as I strummed the first chord, the melody familiar and comforting.

"We knew it'd come around

This thing called love comes crashing down, ah”

The words poured out of me, raw and unfiltered.

"Pieces all on the ground

What once was lost cannot be found, ah

We knew it'd come around we find love.” (x3)

As I sang, I closed my eyes, letting myself feel everything—the pain, the anger, the sadness. The song wasn’t just about Chris anymore. It was about me, about finding the strength to let go and move on.

“Heaven help us, heaven help us, yeah

We're on our own”

When the last note faded, the applause was immediate and loud. I opened my eyes, blinking back tears as I smiled.

Mae was waiting for me when I stepped off the stage, her grin wide and proud. “You did it,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice shaky.

I was about to sit down when a voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Y/N.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Slowly, I turned, and there he was—Chris, standing near the back of the room.

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up” (x3)

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

“I heard your song,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable in them. “It was... beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I said flatly, crossing my arms.

He hesitated, then said softly, “I didn’t realize how much I hurt you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I stared at him, waiting for the familiar ache to take over. But it didn’t. Instead, I felt... lighter, like singing the song had lifted the weight I’d been carrying for months.

“I appreciate that,” I said finally. “But I don’t think I needed to hear it. Not anymore.”

Chris nodded, his expression unreadable. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” I said.

And this time, when he walked away, I didn’t feel the urge to cry.

Mae handed me a fresh latte as I sat back down. “Well?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

I opened my journal, writing one last line beneath the song lyrics.

"It’s not about him anymore. It’s about me."

I closed the journal, a smile tugging at my lips. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again.

© ovrour

taglist : @flouvela @sturniolosarethebest @missmimii @stvrnmc (comment if you’d like to be tagged!)

divider creds @bernardsbendystraws

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (4)

Rodrick Heffley x FTM Punk Reader

Warnings: NSFW joke and mentions of homophobia

Summary: The idea was bull, but it was worth a shot, you supposed. That is, if Rodrick can stay focused.

-

“I need you to do a favor for me,” Rodrick kicked his foot against the asphalt.

You could still hear the joyful chatter of children reuniting with their parents in the background, cars speeding past you, causing strands of hair to come loose, “No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I’ve heard enough from Heather.”

His eyes snapped towards you, wide and attentive, for once, “What’d she say?”

“Obviously not something positive.”

Rodrick shrugged, his attitude uncaring once again. You huffed and turned away, fully planning on leaving him alone on that sidewalk. However, you only were able to take a few steps forward before a hand roughly grabbed at your back. Cursing under your breath, you whirled around to face the boy, squinting.

“Hey, hey, I’m being serious. I need your help, here, dude.”

“You could’ve fooled me;” you rolled your eyes, but didn’t remove his hand, “I won’t do your homework for you. Leave that in middle school, with Greg.”

Rodrick’s hand slid down your arm before he pulled it to his chest, “Actually– fuck, nevermind. Okay, that won’t work on you, but you’re a valuable resource with this!”

“And how is that?”

Instead of answering, he took a step closer, and waved a slip of paper in your face. You flinched back, allowing it to fall from his fingertips into your open palm. Rodrick was silent, snickering, and tapping his foot as he gleefully watched you crack it apart. Inside were printed words; his project slip, awfully crumpled. Two words, three if you count the category. Music; punk subculture.

He smirked, “It’s a research project. What better way than to talk to the only punk guy in town?”

“If you’re so sure, then what about the collaboration rule?”

“C’mon, nobody’ll ever know!” You could’ve sworn he almost whined, moving back.

You said, “I won’t fail ‘cause you’re reckless; I’m sure there’s another punk guy somewhere.”

Rodrick made a face, “There’s none that I know.”

“That’s too bad for you, then,” you replied. Kicking a rock towards him, you backed up, towards the road. He huffed, taking steps forward as much as you moved away. You could tell that he was getting desperate for your help.

“How about a trade? I help with yours, you help with mine!”

You paused, causing the drummer to smack face first into you, knocking your foreheads together. The two of you hissed, with Rodrick rubbing the wounded spot with a scrunched up, pained face. When he finally let his hand fall away, you could see an angry red spot in its place, and yours probably did not look much better.

“I’ll think about it.”

He snickered, hitting your arm, “Hah, think.”

“Heather was right, you’re a cornball.”

“Fuck you,” he groaned.

You shook your head in response to his complaints, “Deal with it, Heffley. I have your number, I can harass you with it all day.”

A small boy, about Holly’s height, if not shorter, appeared in the distance. He was running towards the both of you fast– well, as fast as a middle schooler can go on those little legs. Beside him, a chubbier, ginger child was struggling to keep up as his counterpart shouted, bringing his hands up to his mouth. Rodrick grew tenser, a kind of grumpier expression clouding his features. Ah, that would be Greg. Chuckling, you made the decision to instead flee the scene, not wanting to be a part of their petty sibling rivalry.

“What do you want, turd?” Rodrick sneered, gesturing beside him, “I was in the middle of something.”

“You promised you’d take Rowley and I home!”

“That means you have to be–” He took in the blank spot where you once were, “...patient.” “I’m gonna kill you the next time Mom’s not home, literally kill you!”

-

You fished your flip phone out of your pocket, slouching on your pillows with your socks only half-off. When the list of conversations popped up on the small, bright screen, you paused. Were you seriously contemplating this? Directly going against the rules to work with Rodrick of all people; you might as well have cheated with Daniel and that would have been a better idea. However– you shifted in your bed, kicking your socks across the room– Daniel knows nothing about drums. In fact, he talks about flutes more than any other instrument, as girly as his father calls it. Rodrick was better at it than anyone else in this shitty little town, so how bad could it truly be?

Against your better judgment, you typed in the number pattern printed on the invitation slip into a new contact, naming it accordingly. You held your breath, typing your very first message; “This is Heather’s brother.”

Your phone was smashed into your sheets and you hugged your pillow to your chest, peeking over at the device. It took a few moments, minutes really, before it vibrated against the cloth. Yet, you didn’t reach for it at first. This was your last chance, your last chance to refuse this and possibly not ruin your entire senior record, and so you hesitated. Curiosity got the better of you, though. “Trade or no trade?” 

Taking a deep breath, you responded, “Trade. Come to my house.”

Heather would be so mad at you for this, you thought as you set aside your phone to the side and hopped up. Most of the time would be spent in your room, and you would hate for it to be as messy as it is now when a guest is over, despite the fact that Rodrick seemed to lack standards for hygiene. Perhaps he only showered once a week, if you were lucky. Regardless, you half-heartedly made your bed and dumped a few garments of clothes that had littered your carpet down a hamper, hidden in your closet. Your violin and electric guitar were both leaning carefully on your wall, safe from harm in their cases. Your desk was scattered with markers, laces, and patches that you had neglected sewing onto your jacket. It wouldn’t hurt to stack them neatly, you reasoned.

Your room still had a certain chaos to it despite your efforts, and really, you weren’t looking to fix it. It had personality, it reflected you, just as Heather’s more tidy space reflected her personality. Books lined the shelves underneath your desk; one that you didn’t spend too much money on. A door, glass, a mat, and two near-height shelves as support gave you one easily; you refused to let your mother buy you a “proper” desk. The works were mostly fiction or topics regarding punk history, so you selected a spare few that you did not care too much about in order to lend them to Rodrick.

About ten minutes in, halfway through the time you expected Rodrick to arrive, you freshened up your makeup in the bathroom mirror, paying extra attention to your eyeliner. Just to one up the guy. You smudged it with your pointer finger, before lining your waterline with a matching black. Even so, you almost poked your eye as you were finishing the right side of your face when you heard a clang!

A faint, “Uh– shit, my fault.”

You lifted the lace curtains with a non-blackened finger to peer outside, only to be greeted by the sight of the devil’s gleaming white van, a fresh dent in the front. An angelic statue that had decorated your family’s driveway was now laying on the ground; a puzzled Rodrick above it. A sigh forced itself from your throat. Your eyes followed his figure as he awkwardly tried fixing the abused statue, before sauntering up to the door with a fist raised. It didn’t take long to bound downstairs and open the front door before he abused that, too.

“We have a doorbell, you know?” you stated, unimpressed, “Come in.”

He whistled a short tune as he took in the rooms around him, “So this is Heather’s house. I was starting to think I’d never get to see it!”

“You aren’t here to see Heather, you’re here for research. Don’t talk to her, don’t listen to her, and don’t even look at her; she’ll choke you out and then me.”

Rodrick bent his head in order to see through the crack in her bedroom doorway, but you took a hold of his ear and pulled him away; “Okay, okay, fuck!”

You dragged him through your own door, where you shut it and finally released the drummer to let him take in his surroundings. Pushing him forward slightly with the back of your elbow, you lean on your bed, taking a good look at him. He flicked his eyes towards you– probably scared you were going to rip his ear off if he moved. A humorous expression to see on such an arrogant guy, sure, but you stayed put, watching him. Rodrick must have taken that as a thumbs up, as he was immediately attracted to your desk. He chose to shuffle through your pins first.

“Woah, you made these?”

“No.”

He read the miniature printed names, “Do they mean anything?”

“They’re bands.”

“Well, yeah, I totally recognized them.” He made a show of pointing out his eye makeup.

“Sure–”

He interrupted you, something seemingly catching his eye, “Wait, is that a…”

“Ah, crap, I thought it was something else.” It was a magazine, something you didn’t care enough about to hide away, and he seemed to snicker about it, “If it was, it’d be full of girls.”

You looked over his shoulders, before snatching it out of his hands, much to his offense, “I’m not into that kind of stuff.”

“You sure? I have one you can borrow if you really need it!”

“You’re weird,” you huff, throwing a small book at him.

“Positive?”

“Get to work.”

Rodrick finally sat on your bed, overly casual. You plopped the pile that contained your collection of punk media in his lap, much to his dismay. Christ, if this was still just some big scheme to get his dick wet, you swore you would stuff a leaf in his mouth.

The first book was all about the origins and meaning of such a subculture; the most important subject for his research. You had hoped he valued that, but as he squinted at the text, his eyebrows pushed together.

He tossed it back into your lap, and you threw it back, like some sort of cursed hot potato, “Dude, I don’t know some of those words!”

“How have you gotten to senior year like this?”

“Can’t you just summarize it?” It landed between your legs, to which you looked at him unimpressed.

Rodrick seemed put off by this, looking down at your lap and back up, “Uh, do you have anything to take notes with?”

“...No.”

“Jesus Christ, take a pen off my desk; take the whole book, why don’t you!”

“That’s fine with me.”

You cursed under your breath, even praying to whatever deity was out there to smite the boy in front of you with all their might. You flipped a page, to the first chapter, sneaking a glimpse at him from behind your eyelashes. Rodrick’s foot was wagging back and forth from its position under his left thigh, not even aware of your dilemma. Or he could be painfully aware of it, and just wanted to push more of your buttons by acting innocent. Yeah, that sounds more like him, you thought as you cleared your throat.

“Punk style started gaining headway, aka popularity, in the mid-‘70s in America, with the UK catching the spark a little later on.”

He sneered, “Hah, caught the spark.”

“Knowing that you know enough about history to make a nerd joke horrifies me.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he huffed.

“Sure,” you continued, “anyway, music was a huge part of this new era, but not the only thing included in it.”

Rodrick said, “I can see that.”

“It had fashion, dance, even a mindset to it.”

Glancing at your boots, currently collecting dust in the closet, you searched your mind for items you personally knew were iconic. He had seen you in your clothes, but based on his earlier comments, Rodrick knew next to nothing about the articles. He did not need to know the very deep parts of punk fashion, not for that project. Truth be told, you honestly didn’t want him to know the codes and such related to more personal matters. That knowledge was only for people who would understand, and you lacked that faith with Rodrick.

“You’ve seen me in my boots, leather jacket, and such, yeah?”

“Duh. That sparkly belt, too.” The drummer tapped his temple.

“It’s spiked.”

He shrugged, “Potato, patata–”

Rodrick was thankfully interrupted by a muffled shout from your mother, who slammed the front door shut, “I brought home dinner!”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m hungry,” he cheered, hopping off the bed and down the stairs before you had the opportunity to tackle him.

“Ah, crap.”

Heather peeked out of her bedroom, slowly turning to look at you with a withering look in her eyes. Your shoulders sagged as you saw a snarl take its form on her lips; defeat.

-

[gallafics]

𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚌'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜

Category — Fics for when you want something everyone and their mama has read! (No Major Spoilers)

“The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Ian Gallagher” by @goodkwuestion (Ao3)

Complete. 36 chapters. 309.8k words. Explicit. Graphic depictions of violence. AU. Slow Burn. Explicit sexual content. Mutual pining. Violence. Gun violence. Abuse. Drug use. Sexual harassment.

Everything about this fic is pure perfection. The plot, the dialogue, the dynamic, the chemistry. Ian and Mickey’s desire for one another is palpable from their first meeting. This story is thrilling and entertaining—extremely binge worthy and the cinematic style of writing will definitely have you glued to your device doing just that! (Full review — coming soon!)

“Like Real People Do” by @gallavichy (Ao3)

Complete. 19 chapters. 213.7k words. Explicit. No Warnings Apply. AU. Online dating. Escorting. Sexual inexperience. Fluff. Slow burn. Smut.

This story is home to one of my favorite Gallavich AU plot lines. It has some light moments of angst, but overall, it's a very light, romantic story with a wonderful balance of romance and comedy. I love the fact that Ian and Mickey don't physically meet for pretty much the first half of this story. I find it's just a tad more special when they finally come together in person. (Full review — coming soon!)

“Ransom” by @beckyharvey29 (Ao3)

Complete. 40 chapters. 110.9k words. Explicit. Graphic depictions of violence. AU. Slow burn. Angst. Gun violence. Kidnapping. Implied sexual assault. Drug use. Enemies to lovers. Angst with happy ending. Protective Mickey.

This is an amazing story that I finished in just one day. It has a darker tone, but it's not triggering. At its core, it's really a story about two men falling in love under high stakes. I particularly love Mickey's characterization in this fic. This story will make you feel everything—I laughed, cried, cringed, felt the angsty moments intensely, and the romantic scenes were intense too. It's definitely a must read! (Full review - coming soon!)

“Restoration” by @palepinkgoat (Ao3)

Complete. 14 chapters. 112.7k words. Explicit. No warnings used. AU. Slow burn. Pining. Smut. Closeted Mickey. Internalized homophobia. Self-Harm. Thoughts of self-harm. Implied past abuse. Emotional sex. Dirty talk. Happy ending.

Like all of the fics on this list, Restoration holds a special place in my heart, however, this one specifically because it’s the very first gallavich fic I ever read when I joined the fandom. Mickey and Ian in this are written to perfection. Their journey to loving one another is top tier. Now, I am slightly biased since this fic popped my cherry in the gallafics world but ask anyone who has read it, I promise they’ll agree!! (Full review — coming soon!)

“Cooperative Gameplay” by @gallavichy (Ao3)

Complete. 18 chapters. 421k words. Explicit. No warnings apply. AU. YouTuber Mickey. Friends with benefits to lovers. Fandom culture. Emotional hurt/comfort. Fluff. Light angst. Slow burn.

I’m confident to say this fic is loved by the masses and I can say with certainty that it lives up to its expectations. Ian and Mickey are slightly ooc, however it works extremely well with the story and plot. Ian is still our loveable dope and Mickey is still our grumpy boy. But watching their mutual mining turn into more and the way it’s writing is just *chefs kiss*. It’s funny, it’s light hearted, there are moments of angst and it is absolutely binge worthy! (Full review—coming soon!)

[youunravelme]

Who are some other writers we should check out?

Love your fic recs 😁

omg i LOVE this ask! (and i love that you trust me to rec things/blogs/fics! it's a huge honor)

i'm gonna put this under a read more because there's a lot of people i think are worth following (and if i rec'ed you and got your pronouns wrong, please tell me and i'll fix it!)

so i'm gonna attempt to organize this list by player. disclaimer: i don't read for every hockey player in existence.

mat barzal (obvi number one bc he's the loml)

@barzysunflower - lolo (she/her) is the first mat barzal writer i actually read and when i tell you i binged her masterlist???? it's so good, my favs are the you are in love series and the unexpected series!

@thewintersoldierdisaster - literally anything she writes is great, i go feral for it tbh. she writes for a few canes players as well, but my favs are the mat fics (for obvious reasons being that i'm in love with him). especially the fics with the baby (whose name i cannot remember) and when mat calls reader squeaks???? i'm in love.

@islesnucks - clara (she/her) has so many good mat fics and headcanons (seriously, headcanons are underrated and need more love in general). i think she was also a writer that made me fall in love with mat because she just writes him as the dream romantic hero every single time.

@hockeywhy - i am almost positive that they are tired of me tagging them, but the truth is, they are the writer of my all time fav mat series caught in the middle! but they also have other great mat fics and matthew tkachuk fics that i've enjoyed almost as much! i don't think they're as active anymore writing wise BUT if you want amazing writing and haven't checked them out, you should!

auston matthews

@bagopucks - ella (she/her) hands down my fav auston series is her single mom!reader series. it's the perfect balance of angst and found family and it's just flat out wonderful. she also has a masterlist full of other fics too, that series just happens to be my favorite. but if you wanted another fav of mine, read the jack hughes fic "a little funky," it's about a reader with ocd and as someone with ocd, it was really impactful!

jack hughes

@chewingcyanide - emme (she/they) literally writes the most poetic fics i think i've ever read. everytime she publishes something new, i am stunned. seriously, i honestly take notes from her writing style. stories aside, if you wanted to become a better writer, check out her stuff, it'll really inspire you to use more descriptive words! her breakable heaven series is what introduced me to her writing and it's phenomenal!

@babydollmarauders - faithlynn (she/her) i'm almost positive that faithlynn was the first hockey writer i really followed because jack hughes was my gateway drug into the hockey world. she has so many fun series and aus going on not only for jack but for other devils players, so if you love the devils, definitely check her out!

@jackhues - naqia (she/her) also has a really fun series called mockingbird and it's technically more focused on the friendship/brother-sister relationship jack's gf (reader) and quinn have but it's really sweet. she also has a great auston au as well!

others

@ladylooch - b (she/her) is great! i put her in this category because i feel like she writes a lot for a lot of different players. i've loved her stuff with nico and mat alike. she also has a pretty consistent schedule as well from what i've gathered (which, girl, share your secrets please)

@troubatrain - kim (she/her) wrote my fav beau fic (set it up) and has written some really good fics for matthew tkachuk too! i absolutely adore the soccer player!reader fic and the blurbs that go along with it!

@comphersjost - m (she/they) again, i've said it once, i'll say it again SHE WROTE MY FAV MATT SERIES OF ALL TIME (all for you). I GO BACK AND READ IT OFTEN. literally had me weeping at times. she also wrote some other fics for auston that i've really enjoyed as well!

@sydnikov - sydney (she/her) has written some realyl great fics for andrei and some for nico hischier and jack hughes (and a few others i think, but those are the ones i've read) and they're just fantastic! she's also a canes fan if you want more canes content!

feel free to reblog this with your own author recommendations (in fact i highly encourage it! there are so many good writers on this godforsaken site and these are just the authors i find myself reblogging every time they post!

[mysticstarlightduck]

Friday Kiss Tag!💖

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)!

Rules: From your Story/WIP, share a snippet of your characters kissing. It can be any kiss, from familial pecks on the cheek, platonic kisses, forehead kisses, to full-blown makeouts

Okay! Since I don't have many actual kiss scenes for my current main WIPs, I'll go with a scene that falls under the Familial Peck category (thus it is in no way shape, or form shipping, its just innocent sibling fluff)!

Mine's a both cute/fluffy and kinda sad scene as well, from my WIP Scrapyard Boys, so let's get to it!

Rhys fiddled with his fingers, leaning on the glass panel that surrounded the train's cargo area, watching the neon lights of the city below. From this height and the bullet train's speed, the multicolored lights formed streaks in the sky, as the vehicle flew by like a flash. After being cooped up in that hellhole some called a lab for years, this sight was quite splendid. And to be frank, any mundane sight that wasn't chalk-white walls and emotionless faces walking around like clipboard-holding ants, would be awesome.

Completely immersed in the view below, letting his mind wander absently for the first time in a long time. The soft hiss of the train cutting through the air outside, the city sprawling and swirling down below, the soft smells that filled the cargo space: a whiff of leather from the bags stacked around them, the familiar scent of fuel, even the nagging smell of plastic - he didn't know how much he'd missed this until now and --

-- A yelp rang out beside him.

The teen almost jumped out of his own skin, accidentally hitting his head on the glass beside him, hand flying into his chest as his heart skipped a beat. Startled out of his peaceful musings by the sudden, unexpected sound, Rhys snapped his head to the side, and he saw his twin, sitting there beside him.

He'd been so awestruck by the overwhelming freedom they were experiencing, that he'd forgotten - for the briefest of seconds -about Gwyn, sleeping beside him. Or rather who had been sleeping beside him. The source of the yelp became apparent as soon as he locked eyes with her, now harried, hyperventilating, clinging to his hoodie for dear life.

A nightmare - Rhys didn't even need to ask to know. He'd had his fair share of those too, and in fact, it was usually him who woke himself up screaming most nights. An uncomfy side-effect of spending one's teen years in a government lab trying to make superheroes.

"Hey, hey." Rhys placed his hands on Gwyn's shoulders, nudging her to look at him, "We got out, we aren't there anymore."

The girl crosses her arms over her chest, hugging her knees to her chest, with a nervous pout, tears starting to subside "I know that. I know that." Gwyn frowns, leaning her head on his shoulder, "But what if they take us back?!"

Rhys considers it for a moment. He hadn't thought about that, actually. And it isn't something he'd like to imagine. At least not right now. So he gives her a prankster smile, "Nah, they won't. If they try, we can beat 'em. We'll freeze the agents they send after us into icicles before they even know what hit them, and they'll leave us alone after a while."

She looks up at him, hesitant, wiping at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, "You sure?"

Rhys wasn't sure. But he didn't let it show. "Look around you," He gestured to their surroundings, and the beautiful sights of the glowing city below, "If we got out of that place, we can stay out. We can do anything we want, and they can't stop us."

Gwyn finally gives him a mischievous smile of his own, tear streaed face brightening up, "Then I want," The girl pondered for a moment, brows furrowed, trying to think of what she wanted to do with their newfound freedom, "- I want to have ice cream and eat all the candies we can find. Then make a huge bowl of popcorn and watch those cheesy horror movies you liked."

Rhys' eyes light up, and for a moment, he felt like that kid again, before getting caught up in all of this, "Good plan!" He exclaimed, practically giddy, "Man, I can't wait for us to find Adrien's place - then we'll convince him to let us buy all the ice cream we want!"

"Oh, don't count on it. If he's still the same cheapskate Adrien we knew, his pantry probably consists of energy drinks, chicken nuggets, and a day-old confetti cake from the corner store." She quipped, smile growing brighter as she snorted out a laugh, "Oh, and cigarettes, can't forget the cigarettes."

Rhys laughed despite himself, nodding with a sly smirk, and mimicking a talk-show host's voice and posture, "Presenting: 'Adrien Rosetrom' and his not-so-brilliant podcast on 'how to wreck your lungs'. But the million-dollar question remains - will our star's dubious lifestyle let him outlive young adulthood?"

The twins broke out laughing, both at the absurdity of his joke and the fact that it was, in fact, somewhat true - that, combined with the adrenaline leaving their system, led to a pretty manic mix. A few moments later, the duo settled down, taking a moment to catch their breath with a giddy sigh, tension and fear almost forgotten.

After silence filled their surroundings once more, the only sounds that remained were the whoosh of air outside the bulletproof glass and the soft, barely noticeable whirring of the train's inner workings.

Leaning back against the window, Rhys pulled his twin closer, holding her in a one-armed hug, and Gwyn scooched closer, peeking over him to see the cities below. As she looked away, his smile faded. Rhys forced himself not to think of the agents that might come after them. The white walls of the lab flashed before his eyes. Whirring machines, needles drawing blood, and screens monitoring their every step.

He didn't want to go back at all.

Pulling his twin closer, he found himself placing a quick kiss on her messy head of hair, "...No one's gonna find us again."

He said, partially to her, but mostly, 80% mostly, to himself. Trying, and honestly failing, to soothe the anxiety that had begun to rage in the back of his mind after her comment. In his arms, Gwyn hugged him back and nodded, now focused on the sights outside. Eventually, they watched the train leave the city behind, now flying over the inky blue of the ocean, spotted white by clouds, - a sight they'd never seen before, and which thankfully helped bring his mind back to more pleasant topics, for a moment.

Despite that, long after Gwyn had fallen asleep again, Rhys' eyes couldn't help but stay glued to the horizon line, burning, fighting against the tiredness he felt.

It all seemed too unreal.

What if she was right? What if they couldn't run away? What if... this wasn't real? What if they ended up brainwashed like Laserstorm? Spectre's perfect puppets? Rhys' mind raced with those thoughts and a thousand others, spiraling, stocking the panic he'd forgotten he could feel. And deep down, despite knowing that they had indeed gotten out, that they had indeed made the most of an insanely lucky error of their supervisor, he feared that he let himself close his eyes and fall asleep, they would wake up back in that stark white room once more.

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @the-letterbox-archives @differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[captainsophiestark]

The Reunion Scene

Westley x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Princess Bride

Day 10 Prompt: "It's alright, I'm here now."

Summary: Westley and his love reunite after she shoves him off a cliff, before realizing who he was of course.

Word Count: 1,070

Category: Fluff

A/N: I'm reading the Princess Bride novel and apparently "The Reunion Scene" in the book between Westley and Buttercup is a bit of a running gag (the wikipedia article can give a quick walk through for anyone curious), so I decided to write it! In the book, it's described as a three page scene, which is about the length of this. For anyone unaware of the wild lore behind the novel, I highly recommend a Wikipedia deep dive, it's very entertaining

Tagging @auroracalisto as my fellow Princess Bride fan :) Hope you're having an amazing first semester teaching!!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I planted both hands against the chest of the man before me and shoved with all my strength, sending him careening over the cliff's edge. He'd killed my dearest love, and now returned to mock me, to dare imply I hadn't loved Westley. Whatever happened to me, I couldn't stand this man a minute longer. I shoved him of the cliff, listening to whatever he screamed as he tumbled to the ground below.

"As... you... wish..."

My heart stopped in my chest at the words of my love coming from the mouth of the Dread Pirate Roberts, tumbling down from the cliff I'd just shoved him off of. My Westley, alive, and falling. It couldn't be possible, but it was.

"Westley!" I cried, immediately rushing to follow him down the cliff. I tried to keep my feet under me, and I made it some of the way before gravity caught up to me and sent me tumbling, head over heels. I landed at the bottom, right next to Westley, who still wore his mask. Our eyes locked, and despite the lingering pain from my fall, I surged forward and ripped the mask from his face.

Staring back at me, by some miracle, was Westley. My farm boy. He looked different, older, stronger, and a little of the soft innocence had gone, but he was here. Not dead, like I'd thought him to be for the last three years. Alive, and now, with me.

"Oh, Westley!" My heart sang as I flung my arms around his neck. Without a second's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I moved to kiss him, but to my surprise, he pulled back.

"Won't your betrothed take issue with you kissing another man?"

"Humperdinck? Westley, I've already told you, I don't love him-"

"And yet you agreed to marry him. There was not a moment these past years I didn't think of you. But you agreed to give up on me, on love."

Now it was my turn to pull back a little. My brow furrowed, but Westley's expression didn't soften as his piercing blue-gray eyes surveyed me.

"Westley, I thought you dead," I said plainly, still a little shocked at his reaction. "Not a day has gone by that I didn't think of you, to mourn you. My heart was ripped out of my chest the day news came of your death, and I've had to live every day since dealing with the loss of my love.

"And besides that, Westley, I didn't seek the prince out. He found me, and proposed, since he was looking for a wife and found me beautiful. He knows and accepts that there's no love in our union, and he made it very clear that refusing a request from the crown prince would result in death. Death I would gladly accept, if I had ever thought there was any chance of you returning to me from the dead."

A cold fire lit behind Westley's eyes at my words, and when he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low and quiet.

"He's forcing you to marry him?"

I shrugged. "There are worse fates than being Queen, Westley. But none of that matters, not now that I know you live. Nothing matters at all anymore, Westley, so long as we are together."

He sighed, pulling me to him again, resting his forehead against mine. I brought my hand up to his chest, resting it there so I could feel his heartbeat and reassure myself that this was real. Westley was truly here.

"It's alright, I'm here now," he said, reading my mind as his hand came up to gently stroke my cheek. "My ship waits for us not far from here. It's not going to be easy for us... we'll have to go through the fire swamp..."

"We'll make it through," I said, running my hand through the hair at the base of his neck now. I smiled at him, all the love in my heart glowing through. "We'll make it through anything together."

"Then we haven't any time to waste. We must move quickly."

"Wait!"

Westley froze, halfway up from our position on the hill, but he sank back down at my outburst. His eyes never left mine once. His eyebrow quirked slightly in silent question, and I didn't wait to give him his answer.

I rushed forward, kissing Westley hard, like I'd wished for a chance to do every day for the past three years. He immediately returned the kiss, pulling me into his arms and holding me so close to his chest I could feel our hearts beating in sync.

There have been five kisses in the history of the world deemed so passionate, so perfect and full of love, above and beyond anything else that's ever happened. I was no expert on it, but in that moment, I knew this one blew every other kiss before it away.

Neither one of us wanted to pull away, but finally, Westley did. He kept staring into my eyes, gravity trying to pull us back to each other, but with a grimace of regret he leaned further back.

"We really need to keep moving. If we're to stay ahead of your pig fiancé, we have no time to waste."

"Just promise me a million more moments like this, for the rest of our lives."

Westley smiled. "As you wish."

I beamed as Westley pulled me to my feet, and the two of us began heading through the ravine we'd tumbled into and towards the Fire Swamp, hand in hand.

No doubt, the challenges ahead would be dire and terrible beyond imagining. But I knew confidently that we would survive them. My Westley was still in the world, and even better, he was with me. There was no other ending but for the two of us to be happily together.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[foxy-eva]

Sunday Morning

Summary: Spencer really enjoys Sunday mornings with his girlfriend

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) showering together, heavy kissing, a little bit of teasing, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

As the morning sun slowly began to illuminate our bedroom, I started craving the sensation of my girlfriend’s body pushed against mine. Moving closer to the heat she radiated, I pressed my chest into her back to breathe in her sweet scent. There was no need for me to be fully awake to seek out the softness of her skin, my fingers still a little uncoordinated as they found their way under the hem of her shirt. 

She was still breathing steadily, her senses dulled by her drowsiness while I felt like tasting the first droplets of water after an endless drought. Feeling the tenderness of her skin underneath my fingertips was everything I needed to fully wake up. It was hard to explain but her body somehow felt extra delicate this Sunday morning. 

I flattened my palm to let it wander over her side and stomach, noticing her abdominal muscles twitching right before she hummed, a clear sign that she was slowly waking up. I placed my lips on her neck to leave a featherlight kiss before whispering, “Good morning, my love.”

Her hand joined mine under her shirt, moving it upwards until I was cupping her breast. I smiled against her neck, more than happy to cater to her need for more than innocent morning cuddles. Gently I let my thumb rub over her quickly hardening peak, a raspy sigh falling from her lips before she had even opened her eyes. 

As I touched her chest just the way I knew she liked, she started to squirm, pressing her backside against my hips and humming content to feel my own excitement straining against my pants. I started nipping at her ear before breathing, “Did you have a nice dream?” 

“Yes,” she purred, her voice still heavy from sleep, “you were there.” 

She finally turned around to find my eyes, a smug grin prominent on her face. How she always looked so beautiful right after waking up was something I would never be able to fully understand. 

“I was? What did we do?” I wanted to know before kissing her lips. 

Her hand was quick to sneak down my body, making me groan when she pressed her palm against the thin fabric covering my hardness. 

“This,” she mumbled against my lips before deepening the kiss. 

It was so easy to get lost in her touch, it felt like I was melting into her as our tongues brushed over one another. My hand found its way to the curve of her backside, burying my fingertips into her supple flesh while she let her palm wander over my thigh. When she leaned back to let some air into her lungs, I made sure to close the gap again, peppering her face with little kisses until she started giggling. 

Still curious where her subconscious had led her those past few hours, I asked her, “Can you tell me more about your dream?”

With raised eyebrows she cooed, “I’d rather show you,” before tugging on my shirt, implicitly telling me to take it off. 

With little grace and a bit hurried I got rid of all the fabric covering my body, noticing how her eyes started darkening as I revealed myself to her. She had told me countless times how attracted she was to me but I only really believed it in moments like this. She put her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing against them until I was laying on my back with her kneeling beside me. 

She took her time to let her eyes wander over my body, licking her lips as her sight fell to my center. I couldn’t hide how excited I was getting, my skin feeling heated, certainly displaying the rosy shade she always liked to tease me about. Placing my hand on her thigh, I let my palm wander to her hip, gently squeezing it to bring her back from her reverie. 

When we locked eyes again she purred, “You’re so beautiful, Spencer.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” I reminded her before sitting up to help her out of her shirt. 

She moved with me, pulling down her shorts as well so our bodies could meet without any barrier. With my hands on her sides I guided her into my lap, letting her find her seat like a queen on a throne. She leaned down to capture my lips in another kiss while adjusting her hips to grind against my erection, making me whimper into her mouth. 

My hands were roaming her back while I felt the evidence of her excitement spreading along my hardness. Her lips left mine in favor of exploring my neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin until she got the reaction she wanted. A sigh escaped her throat when I involuntarily bucked my hips up slightly. Moving further down, she left soft kisses on every inch of my body she could reach until she gripped my shaft and placed her face just above my leaking tip. 

I could feel her hot breath on even more heated skin, making me shudder in anticipation. We looked at each other right before she closed her lips around me, slowly sinking down as far as her throat would let her. The sensation clouded my mind and the sight in front of me was almost too much to handle. When I remembered that she was probably able to taste her own arousal on my erection, it almost made me finish on the spot. 

By closing my eyes I was able to stay in the moment for a while longer while moans and sighs fell from my lips. Being enveloped by her warmth felt heavenly and for a moment I had trouble realizing that this was in fact not a product of my imagination. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen was really there, keen on bringing me pleasure in such an intimate way. 

I dared to open my eyes for a moment to adore her the way she deserved but seeing her lips wrapped around me seemed downright sinful. Right before I got to the point of no return her mouth suddenly left me, having me whine in protest for a second. She sat up, smiled at me and wiped the saliva from her chin with the back of her hand. 

“That’s where my dream ended,” she teased. 

I only groaned in response as I pulled her down to hastily kiss her. There was no willpower left in me to hold back for much longer, especially not when she let me feel her heat pressing against me once more. With one swift motion I turned the both of us around so she was the one on her back with me hovering above her. 

“I’m really glad we don’t have to stop now,” I mumbled into her neck before biting down on her skin until she whimpered, “Me too.” 

I pushed my thigh between her legs and noticed how her hips began to rock against me. It was obvious that she was becoming just as desperate as I was. I left a trail of kisses down her neck while brushing my fingertips over her heated cheek. She turned her head to find my fingers with her lips, kissing them before opening her mouth to let her tongue meet my digit. Right before she closed her lips around it, I pulled my hand back, certain I’d lose my composure if she started sucking on it. 

I found her smirking at me when we locked eyes again and I could have sworn that she had never looked more beautiful. When I let one of my hands descend down her body to touch her where she wanted to feel me the most, she closed her eyes for a moment. As I dragged my fingers through her silken folds, the wonderful sounds of her undoing began slipping from her lips. 

It had only been a few seconds but I already longed to see the sparkling of her eyes again, making me plead for her to open them. 

“Look at me, please.” 

It took her a moment but she managed to open her lids, her pupils blown wide when she found me staring down at her in awe. 

“I’m right here,” she reminded me with a slight tremble in her voice and added, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” I cooed right when I entered her body with two of my fingers. 

My palm was covered in her essence within moments and I couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on my face once I felt her clenching around my digits. She arched her back as I worked my hand against her center, bringing her closer to the edge with every second passing. I would have gladly let her fall over it too, but she stopped me right before she lost herself in ecstasy. 

“Please, Spencer. I need all of you.” 

Only a fool would have been able to refuse her that. She opened her legs further to make room for me while her eyes fell down to where our bodies were about to connect. With wide eyes she watched me lingering at her entrance, a loud moan falling from her lips once I finally started pushing into her. 

It was impossible for me not to get lost in the sensation of being completely enveloped by her softness. With legs and arms wrapped around my body she allowed no room between us as our hips moved against one another in rhythmic motions. Our lips connected like the rest of our bodies and only separated when we couldn’t ignore the need for air. 

Together we chased our sweet relief, the room filling with the sounds of our excitement as I accelerated the pace of my hips pushing against her. With her fingernails digging into the skin of my back she let me know that she couldn’t hold back any longer. When her walls began to pulse around me, she pushed me over the edge with her. She caught my moans with a kiss while she kept rocking her hips against me until she was sure I had nothing left to give to her. 

I lingered in her embrace, my face buried into the crook of her neck while she played with my hair. Neither of us dared to separate our bodies although we knew that our connection was so much more than just physical. Still, I couldn’t help the whimper from escaping my lips when my body betrayed me as I got soft and slipped out of her. 

She brushed her hands over my back as if she was apologizing for what she was about to say. 

“I need to get up.”

“Me, too,” I told her as I got up from the bed. “It would be irresponsible to let you shower alone.”

“Yeah?” she snickered. “I agree. My knees are still weak.” 

We hopped in the shower together to rid us of any remaining stickiness while not allowing any distance between our bodies. The water ran over us as our lips met in a kiss while our hands were still yearning to feel the other’s skin. There was no need for us to rush, this Sunday morning allowed us to take all the time we needed to revel in the sensation of having each other near. 

The woman I was so desperately in love with turned around to press her back into my chest as she led my hands to touch her breasts, similar to how she let me feel her right after waking up. My lips attached to her neck but instead of kissing her, I smiled into her skin, unable to shake one particular thought. 

Even though I knew I was wide awake, being with her still felt like the sweetest dream imaginable. 

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