Wishing you a beautiful day, full of friends, family and lots and lots and lots of orange-y Edward (Spaghettios are orange, btw.)
Thanks for being the lovely, warm, positive person you are. You make this whole place a better one to be a part of. I hope your day is super-fantastic.
-Diane / theladyingrey
I wish this was more, because you deserve infinite pretty words.
I wish I was with you, handing you a cupcake. It would surely be one of these.
I wish there were thousands more words of lockersex and lemons. Alas, these will have to do.
The front of the locker is cold, biting into my back. Had it not been for the fineass boy pushing me up against it, I might’ve been pissed. Newton never would have gotten away with it. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten as far as my phone number in the twelve years we’d known each other.
But Edward? He could push me into whatever he wanted, wherever and whenever he wanted. And we hadn’t even so much as said hello to each other that day.
The truth was, we’d danced around each other for weeks. Since he moved to Forks, he’d transitioned from my neighbor to my lab partner, then to my friend, and finally, blissfully, more.
As his lips moved against mine, claiming and demanding, I smirked at the conversation that had clearly provoked him. Must’ve been the night before, when I told him how fucking beautiful his lips were, and how I wouldn’t mind them all over my body. I blame being overly tired for my rare lack of a filter.
AP classes were kicking my ass, and every time we studied together, our chairs moved just the tiniest bit closer. Our bodies sharing the same space, eyes glancing a bit too long at each other.
Thank fucking God, Edward Cullen had finally kissed me.
I temporarily lost my mind, hoping all of the people surrounding us could disappear. I would strip myself bare and allow him to fuck me right there, right then.
Even in my mind, I could see it so clearly. I’d watched Edward on the soccer field enough to know what his legs looked like, what his abs looked like tensed, as he brought his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his brow. I’d seen his back, shirt off when he played in the street with the other neighbors. The only part of Edward I hadn’t seen was the part I suddenly desperately wanted to see the most – his cock. Like the rest of him, I knew it would be perfect.
I love you, Kass. I can’t wait to someday hug you and craft with you, and drink with you, and laugh my ass off with you.
You’re too sexy
I’m not as awesome with the gifs as you, but it’s the thought that counts!
Happy birthday, sweetie! ILY - Heather
Happy Birthday! This is a little something I had started writing back for the OJward contest and decided it should come out of the archives and be reworked just for you. Much love, fiberkitty/Miya
The Orange Knight, a collection of drabbles starring Edward and Riley
Men look ridiculous in tights. At least, the men I had previously met at the local Renaissance Faire did. Edward was different; the current Queen’s Joust Champion was the star of my dreams. Slim legs were anything but bony—well-toned all the way to thighs I longed to lick my way around. Edward was leaner than the other jousters, and younger. They tended to be larger, and most had lightening at the temples and softening of the stomach behind their armor.
But, I digress. Edward has that power; he barely enters my thoughts and I’m hiding a hard-on behind my cod-piece.
Edward was rarely out of armor, even on the hottest days. I scheduled my break around the end of the Joust, when the winner was given the Queen’s favor, and I would bring a pint of iced sassafras to him as he walked his horse, Midnight, around the stable.
My fingers itched to brush back his sweat-soaked hair as he rushed to get ready for the noble’s parade through Faire. It was our routine; never speaking except a quiet “Thank ye” from Edward, and my whispered response of “’T’is my pleasure, m’Lord.” The rest was in my dreams.
My sister prevented me from offering good-byes or exchanging contact info with Edward last year. This year, it was going to be different. I came early for the job fair, and after finding Edward was on the roster for the joust, I put in my resumé to work at the pub handling orders for fries and non-alcoholic drinks. The location would let me keep an eye on Edward whether he was in the joust or in the Queen’s royal court.
He was my compulsion. I had been unable to even consider dating while at college. No one compared to him.
My parents were upset when I decided to live on-site on weekends. I only needed a small tent, toiletries, a spare change of clothes, and a cooler with sandwiches. The remainder could be purchased or bartered for.
I traded a bit of my time with one of the seamstresses for a jerkin in pale green with black stitching. It was my own tribute to Edward’s colors. My golden breeches and tunic matched his crest, and I had splurged for the black and green hose. They were uncomfortable to work in, but I had to do something to show my desire.
I once read in some book, no doubt a bit of erotica, “desire is not politically correct; everyone has preferences.” From when I first set eyes on him, Edward was my preference; no one compared.
“Are you going to stop staring at the fancy noble on his horse and get to work anytime soon, Riley?” Emmett wiped the bar again while Rosalie made sure all the cups, plates, and napkins were well-stocked for the opening day of Faire. They were in their late twenties, and had been married since she was seventeen. Some loves are just like that.
I was waiting with a mug of sassafras when Edward led Midnight to the stable. “M’Lord,” I offered while holding out the handle to him. Despite the day’s cool breeze, my face was flushed as I took in the slight stubble along Edward’s jaw. He looked the part of a rogue, not noble. I wanted to feel it—
“Thank ye,” Edward replied, pulling me from my sudden daydream.
“‘Tis my pleasure, Sir.” I ducked as Edward hefted his lance up into a rack.
“You could have come for the whole joust, Riley.”
He knew my name.
My linen tunic brushed the middle of my thighs as I trudged back to my tent from the privy. The night sky was alight with stars and a full moon. Moans and laughter carried on the breeze from the Kids’ Kingdom. I didn’t pity the cleanup crew who would have to collect condoms and beer bottles from the hedge maze.
“Do you think they’ll stop soon?” Warm breath ghosted over the back of my neck, making me shiver.
I turned and gasped. Edward was wrapped in a towel, holding a basket under his arm. He glowed like an angel.
The wet ground sucked at our feet as we climbed the hill to the tent camp. “I’m Edward, by the way.” He offered his hand.
“I know.” Smooth, Riley. “I mean, I think everyone knows who you are.” I was just digging myself in deeper. I don’t think my cheeks could get any hotter; I wanted to hide in my tent until the end of faire season.
When he laughed, my pride couldn’t take another blow. My feet slipped as I ran up the rise. My sandals lost their grip, and down I went into the mud.
“Riley! Are you okay?” Edward squatted beside me, visibly checking me for any wounds. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride.” The tunic I slept in was thoroughly coated in mud, and I could feel the muck on my skin. I would have to make the trek down to the showers. For a kitchen worker, I would have to deal with the solar showers and the orgy near them.
Edward’s arms slid around my muddy back, his hands heating my skin as he helped me to my feet. “Come to the nobles’ bathhouse; I have a key.”
He didn’t let me retrieve my clothes. Edward was pushy when he had his mind set on something, like getting me into the luxurious shower house, stripped down, and under the hot spray. After the barely warm trickle of the outdoor shower that only had a curtain sometimes, the wooden walls and near scalding water were worth the mud.
“Here, use my soap.” A bottle of peppermint soap and a sponge were held over the divider. “I’m going to go rinse out your tunic in the sink. Yell if you need anything.”
“I need you,” I thought.
My shirt was cleaner, but the fabric would hide nothing now that it was wet. Despite being in good shape, modesty was winning out over any lust I still had in my system for Edward. He was outside the wooden partition in just a towel while I was in here, naked.
“One problem, m’Lord, umm, Edward. I don’t have a towel or anything to wear back.”
His chuckle was warm, and I caught a towel as it was tossed to me. “Dry off. It’s going on four AM. I’m hungry. The diner on 50 has amazing breakfasts.”
If I thought he looked good in faire garb, Edward in tight jeans and a t-shirt was something else. He was so gorgeous it hurt, like centerfold good. As I watched him dig into his breakfast bowl, my food went cold.
“What do you do when you’re not at the faire, Riley?”
“College. I bus tables and make sandwiches at a cafe downtown.” I picked at one of the slices of french toast.
“So, you’re local? I’m from Chicago, though I’m in New York a lot for work. I model to pay my way through law school.”
My mouth went dry regarding his work. Or maybe it was the drop of orange juice running down his chin that had me panting. I wanted to lick it off.
Then his lips were on mine. I tasted orange. Strong fingers tangled in my hair, tugging me closer before letting me go as he sat back. “You were staring, Riley. Forgive me if I presumed too much.”
I could still taste orange; shock emboldened me. “I think you presumed too little.”
Edward smiled against my mouth. “We can buy more juice on the way back to camp.”
Happy Birthday, Kassiah.
I always enjoy reading your posts.
You and Caren were among the first people I met when finding the fandom.
Thank you for all you do to support writers and their stories, and for supporting the many causes the fandom tries to help.
Happy, Happy Birthday.
In solidarity, for the love of Rob…