#also to others who sent me writing prompts: i will do them tomorrow!

[mysaintkitten]

Dolled Up | Kitten Braden x fem!reader

prompt: kitten does your makeup .. kind of (NSFW, no minors)(this was based off a suggestion that was sent to me !! i just had to hop on it i love any opportunity i get to write my horny thoughts about my wife)

WARNINGS: platonic relationship/hidden feelings, unprotected sex (p in v), overall pretty soft sex Lol, creampie

word count: 2.8k

also i just love this gif of kitten. it’s very similar to the other one i used, but she looks too cute.

“kitten, i can’t do it, i have no idea what i’m doing.” you whinged, looking at your self vehemently in kittens vanity mirror. you begin to tuck away your makeup palettes before aggressively grabbing wipe from your bag to clean off the mess you had just applied to your face. the two of you had plans to head out tonight, but judging by your now third failed attempt at doing decent makeup, you felt like maybe staying in was the better option for you.

kitten steps out from the bathroom, all dressed up. she’s dressed rather tame, she’s in high waisted emerald green pants and a black jacket, the simple pieces complimented her figure so well. her outfit wasn’t what stood out though, it was her face. her own makeup looked flawless, her having a gorgeous face underneath that makeup probably aided in it, though. you stare at her through the mirror, watching her body approach you. once behind you, she makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“oh, angel.” she says in that sweet little voice of hers, “don’t get so defeated.” she begins to walk over to your side, kneeling down slightly so she’s at eye-level with you. “i’ll do your makeup tonight, then tomorrow i’ll teach you some things, sound good?” she adds, a small grin appearing across her lips. god. her lips. you think to yourself.

you and kitten had been friends since the end of grade school, you knew her before she was kitten. but within time, and you by her side, you watched her blossom into a beautiful woman. a woman who you’ve now found yourself deeply attracted to. it’s bittersweet, kitten is every sweet thing under the sun, all wrapped into one singular person, but you doubted kitten would ever view you in that way as well. she liked you, of course, but as a friend. you assumed she was straight, the two of you had never really spoken too much about exact labels but when kitten would tell you about her interests or sexual encounters- other women never really seem to come up.

you’re dragged out of your thoughts as you feel kitten tap your shoulder, “come, let’s do this on my bed.”

you rise to your feet and grab your makeup bag, bringing it along with you as you walk over to kittens bed. she crawls in and sits with her legs crossed, waiting patiently for you to join her. you follow her soon after, sitting parallel to her with no choice but to look directly at her face. kittens beauty made it hard for you to stare directly at her, you shifted your gaze around the room, trying to avoid her whole also trying to not come off as strange.

she laughs, “look at me, sweetheart.” your eyes drift back to her face, her eyes locking with yours. you feel a pang in your brain, your anxiety wants you to look away, but you dismiss it as best you can and maintain eye contact.

“first, we’re gonna start off with a nice base.” she says, squirting some primer into her hand. she rubs the liquid between her fingers briefly before bringing them to your face, spreading the product around evenly. her hands migrate past your face and begin to massage the excess primer into your neck, the slight pressure she was causing made your mind start to wander a bit. you’re thinking about her slender fingers wrapped around your throat, her kissing you, her touching you. no, no no. you say in your head. she’s your friend, don’t think of her like that.

“now, you don’t really need any foundation. you’ve got gorgeous skin, but a little concealer will make your under eyes pop.” she continues, rummaging through the bag, yeah yeah she was talking about your skin but the fact that she used the word gorgeous while talking about you made your heart flutter, just a little bit. once she locates the concealer, the places small dabs on your under eye and buffs it out with her middle finger. as she’s focusing, her hand has made its way to your thigh. she’s using you for stability, but all you can think about is that her hands are on you, and those dirty thoughts begin to sneak up on you again.

she applies some powder and blush and moves to the next step, “how do you want your eyes to look? simple? sexy?” she asks, scooting herself forward slightly to get a bit closer to you. “uh, hm, i think just simple for tonight.” you reply, almost tempted to go with the sexy option, just to see what that would’ve been like, but you ultimately don’t.

“simple it is, i think you’ll look better this way. your eyes are too pretty to be all covered up.” she says sweetly, her eyes scanning around your face before glancing back down to the makeup bag. you almost feel like you could drop dead, her kind words fuelling your delusions. you’re enjoying this in the moment, you know yourself too well and you know later tonight you’ll be wide awake thinking about what she said to you. reminiscing on the fact that she called you pretty.

“you think my eyes are pretty?” you mutter, almost in disbelief, “i think all of you is pretty.” she coos, “you could walk into a club and pick up any man you’d like, makeup or not.”

you chuckle, “i don’t really think i’ll be too worried about what the guys think of me.”

she furrows her brows slightly, a small smirk creeping across her lips, “not looking for love?” she questions, bringing mascara up to your lashes and swiping the wand through them gently.

as she moves to coat the other eye, you feel a bit hesitant to tell her, but you know she won’t judge, so you let it come out.

“no, i’m looking, just not .. with men .. you know ..” you nearly whisper, your voice trailing off. her expression changes, surprise, yet joy, appear on her face.

“you’re joking, dear! i can’t believe i never knew!” she giggles, placing the mascara down beside her, “you’re too pretty for men, anyway. i wonder if we’ve ever liked the same girls.” she adds before grabbing some lipstick.

wait, huh? this changes basically everything in your eyes

“you like girls?” you ask, your voice nearly cracking.

“mhm, a lot, really. much more than men. they’re sweeter, feel nicer ..” she counters, gripping your chin slightly as she glides the lipstick across your bottom lip.

feel nicer? you sense a slight heat forming between your legs, imaging kitten all hot and bothered underneath some faceless woman, her caressing kitten in all the ways she liked. all wet and needy, that’s a sight you’d do anything to see for yourself. the idea that was, moments ago, so taboo to you has now been flipped completely on it’s head.

“i guess it’s just cause i had never heard you mention it ..” you mumble, your brain turning to mush at the pandora’s box of lesbian hypotheticals that continue to spring to the surface.

“i kept those relationships close to me. i was open about my encounters with men because, really, i saw them as quick fixes. use them to get off, then move on. but with women .. i wanna hold them. and touch them. and love them .” she begins to whisper, her face inching closer to yours as she covers your top lip in lipstick.

you swallow hard, kittens face is so close to yours, you can feel her body heat radiating off of her, you can smell her perfume, it’s all too much. without second thought, you lean forward and peck kitten on the lips.

as you pull away, her eyes are wide.

oh god. you went too far. now she’s gonna ask you to leave and you guys will never speak to each other a-

your thoughts are interrupted by kittens lips returning to yours. she’s providing more than a peck this time, a full fledged kiss, her hands make their way back to your thighs. so far, not with any sexual intentions, she just wants to feel you.

she pulls away just enough to mutter, “such sweet lips .. wonder what else on you is sweet ..” before sliding her tongue into your mouth, what started as sweet pecks have progressed into messy eager kisses. your hands finding their way to kittens side, testing the waters on how far she’s willing to go. with slight nudges, you push kitten back, watching how quickly she submits. she leans back with ease, her cheeks tinted red and pupils blown out.

“i’ve liked you ..” you say, leaning on top of her and kissing her cheek, “for so long now ..” your lips creeping down to her neck, she lets out a sweet little hum

“should’ve let me know .. we could’ve explored each other so much sooner ..” she purrs, running the tips of her fingers down your back as you continue to plant kisses down her body. eventually, you’re met with her clothed chest. you wanna rip her clothes off and kiss and grip each part of her body, but you refrain, deciding that maybe some over-the-clothing touches are better suited for right now.

you place your hand on one of her tits, watching her expression and body language attentively, “is this okay?” you ask in nearly a whisper, she places your hand on top of yours and forces you to apply pressure while rolling her hips up into you gently, moaning softly.

you’re undeniably wet, and you can feel kittens arousal grinding against you.

she wraps a leg around you and begins to get handsy herself, her warm hands sliding up your torso to grip and knead at your tits, “oh kitten ..” you moan, rutting into her slightly. you kiss around her neck, stopping to lick and suck on the areas that make her breath hitch.

while keeping a gentle grip on your tit, her other hand makes it’s way between your legs, slipping into your pants and past your underwear. you groan as those delicate fingers of hers play with your folds while becoming absolutely drenched in your slick

she lets out a breathy laugh, “goodness, dear, this wet? all for me?”

you feel a bit embarrassed, “i told you i like you a lot ..” you huff, hiding your face in her neck as she continues to toy with your pussy. “poor thing.. can’t believe you get this wet all for me .. if i had known i would’ve helped you out, sweet thing.” she coos, “i’m wet myself, dear, you wanna touch?”

you nod eagerly, desperate to feel how worked up she is. with a smirk, she slides your hand into her pants. god, she’s pulsing, as your fingers sneak up to her tip, you feel her slit is slick with her arousal.

“kitten .. shit ..” you moan, your brain and body completely overwhelmed. earlier you were adamantly convinced that kitten would never feel the same way about you, now here the two of you are, flushed with your bodies pressed together and your hands down each others pants.

you’re both moaning, and whining, and basking in each others embraces. the desperation of it all almost makes it feel dirtier than full on sex.

“it would be a shame if this wet pussy wasn’t put to good use ..” kitten sighs, furrowing her brows slightly while glancing at you. she doesn’t need to be more direct than that. you remove your hands from each others pants and aid each other in stripping one another of their pants and panties, along with taking of your shirts by yourselves. as you both discard them into the floor, you peak over and notice both you and kitten had small wet spots within your panties. the sight of it makes your stomach burn.

“on your back, doll ..” she hums, directing you gently onto your back, your eyes are fixated on kitten. you look at the lipstick marks on her cheek and neck, where you had been previously kissing, you decide to add a few more. as she’s collecting herself between your legs, you lean your body forward and place some kisses on to her chest,

“oh!” she moans out of shock, you turn your head and suck gently on her nipple, feeling her body twitch slightly. when you pull your head back, you look at the cluster of lipstick stains.

“sweetheart, if you keep that up, i might finish before we’ve even started ..” she groans ardently, and you feel her tip teasing your opening, sliding your slick around with the head of her cock, “now, i just can’t wait any longer .. i gotta see what such a pretty girl like you feels like ..” she breathed, slowly slipping herself inside you. you groan at the slight stretch, kitten wasn’t huge, but a perfect size, or at least she was perfectly curated for you and your pussy.

once she bottoms out, she doesn’t start thrusting immediately, she holds you close, looking lustfully into your eyes and lips, proceeding kissing you passionately. as you kiss her back, she moves her hips out and slowly back in again. though she felt amazing inside you, you weren’t exactly in the mood for love making at the moment, you more less wanted to be fucked.

“kitten mhh!” you whine, “faster .. please ..” she chuckles, biting at your lower lip as she fucks into you harder, almost as if she read your mind and knew the exact pace you wanted to be fucked at. she moans into your mouth, one of her hands reaching down to grip your hip.

“so warm .. so snug ..” she praises, she wants to talk, she wants to tell you you’re the prettiest thing she’s ever been inside of, but your cunt has her at a loss for words. you’re in the same boat as her, so you feel no judgement.

“i feel so ..” you grunt as she hits your spot inside you, “full, god!” you moan, rubbing your clit desperately, “that’s it, touch yourself angel, such a perfect filthy girl.” she growls, beginning to fuck you harder. you feel breathless, you’ve never heard kitten speak so crudely, you wondered what else goes on in her brain while she’s getting doused in waves of pleasure.

without much thought, you blurt out “i want you to come inside me” as kitten relentlessly pounds into you, kittens shoulders drop slightly from that statement. her body going partially limp while maintaining her pace, “i’ll fill you up, sweet thing, with such a pretty pussy like this i don’t think i’ll be able to come any other way ..”

you look at her expression and cup her face with one hand, she’s so fucked out. with a hand on your hip and the other placed above your head for stability, kitten is flushed and sweaty, her own lipstick was smudged at this point and her makeup was smeared. you think about how pretty she looked when her makeup was fresh, and how you believe she looks even prettier now with it all messed up.

she gulps hard before moaning, “but if i come in you .. you gotta come on me, can you do that, pretty girl?”

you could’ve creamed on her cock from that, but you hold back, nodding feverishly, “yes yes yes!” you mumble mindlessly, your mind processing absolutely nothing else besides the sensation of kittens cock sliding in and out of you. from the foreplay to kittens skillful thrusts, you knew you were gonna come soon. and kitten was exactly the same.

“baby, shit, ‘m gonna come!” she whines, gripping your hip painfully hard, you don’t mind at all though, knowing she’s gripping you because of how good your pussy feels around her made your brain process the pain as a separate form of pleasure. mental pleasure.

“come for me, pretty, come on ..” you whimper, feeling her thrusts become weaker and irregular. as you feel her about to come inside you, you reach your peak at the same time. her thrusts mixed with your eager clit rubbing was a lethal combo, you knew you’d be coming fast and hard. you convulse and clench around her as she hits her peak, moaning loudly at the overwhelming sensation. she pumps into you lazily before pulling out, her softening cock feeling now overstimulated by your warm, tight walls. she leans back and watches your pussy. knowing she’s looking, you push a bit, and you feel the mixture of both of your orgasms spill out from inside you, she groans.

“gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” she purrs, running her finger tips along your thighs. you both sit in silence for a few moments, collecting yourselves, regaining your composure, before she breaks it by saying,

“when can we do this again?”

—

i love writing about kitten. my wife for life 💗

[pdpenpals]

hihi! i was wondering if i could get a romantic letter from phoenix drop high gene? she/they pronouns please :)

and for the context of the letter, maybe Gene & Reader recently started dating but can’t text because Reader is away at an academic sleep away camp (preferably centered around literature/writing)? Reader is on the more academic/nerdy side and not officially part of the SK so them doing these kinds of programs is their usual summer thing but it’s the first time Gene and Reader have been away from eachother since they started dating

tysm <33

hihi!! thanks for sending this in, i think this prompt’s absolutely adorable!

unrelated but speaking of literature whenever i see gene now that i’m older i think of heathcliff (more of the name) or the phantom for some reason.

your entire being perks up at the mention that a letter’s arrived, and your heart races as you go through who could have possibly sent it in your head. the moment you have it in your hands, you can almost tell exactly who it’s from. the envelope’s a dark gray, close enough to be black. there are stickers all over its back next to your name and address, same goes for the front. opening it, you catch a whiff of someone familiar’s cologne. that cheeky bastard. 

you notice almost immediately that there’s not only a letter inside, but a bunch of printed photos and some unused stickers. after finding a spot to settle your new goodies upon, you get comfy and get to reading.

Hey cutie. Miss me yet? 

Heard a fair’s coming to town soon. I think it’ll still be there when you get back. There should even be fireworks on the last day. We can go there if you wanna.

Other than that, nothing much happened today. Dante was out, and I had the house to myself for a good portion of the afternoon. Without sugarcoating it, I was bored out of my mind.

It took me a while to figure out my texts or calls weren’t getting through to you. Mom must have seen how frustrated I was about it, so she shared some of her spare stationery with me as a last resort. She said something about wanting to hear about how your summer’s been doing so far.

That’s all the small talk I can handle for today. You might get too tired of staring at only words for too long over there, so you might want to check out the pics taken these past few days. The stickers are from Zenix and Sasha by the way, they also say hi.

Kidding aside, I know how much this whole camp thing means to you.  But I’ve been feeling weird ever since you left. It’s weirder knowing you’re not nearby. When you’re not a walk or a call away. Even though I know exactly how many days and many hours are left until you come back.

Sappy shit out the way, I decided to read that one book you lent me at random. I’m not sure you remember it much since you hurriedly gave it to me without a second thought, but it’s that really old one about the day before the world ends. All that apocalyptic and sad shit. Even though I didn’t get it, I guess it was nice that Vincent and Leticia got their happy ending. To be honest, the book overall didn’t stand out to me much, but the concept of having one day left to live sure did.

If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would

Y’know, maybe it’s for the best I save it for when we meet again in person, so you better come back home in one piece, yeah?

With an aching heart and hand, Your Gene, who misses you terribly

PS. I feel like you’ve been rubbing off on me recently, state-of-mind-wise. While it’s not that bad, it gives me the chills.

PPS. If not having you near me hasn't driven me insane yet, I definitely will go mad if this letter doesn't make it to you. Especially after all I've put my wrist through just for this. Maybe I should visit the post office a few more times?

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

maybe like a

daryl x reader but he finds her really drunk in (alexrandia)

or finding reader in the woods (meeting her for the first time) and she’s really hurt and he practically saves her

Happy Monday Everyone! Sorry I am taking so long to get to these writing prompts that I ask you all to send my way. I am so appreciated of each and ever one of them, that I want to give each one time to create something special, or at least passable.

I hope @dreamtofus I did you justice in your ask, I really had a lot of fun writing a Daryl x Reader, it was my first, but hopefully not my last. I know I still need to work on getting the 'voice' of Daryl down, but for a first attempt, I don't think it's too bad.

Please let me know what you think, reblog, likes are always welcome. This story is my own, so please don't steal it. All mistakes, typo are mine, I do apologize. I do a few rounds of edits, but things just slip through, so be kind when passing judgement.

Details:

Daryl x Reader, told mainly from the reader POV, but we do get a small POV of Daryl. A flashback is had, some pop culture references, not sent in an particular timeline of the show. Seeing how the reader meets Daryl for the first time, how he saves her not once but twice, and the reader letting her guard down around Daryl.

Ment to be a one shot, but if you all like it enough, I could be persawded to write more, with these two.

Triger warnings: nothing really, its sweet, angst.

Word count: 2,000+

You knew never to go out this late in the day for anything, even a ‘simple’ supply run would never be done this late; you should have just waited until tomorrow. But No, you have to prove something to yourself? No, you knew you had survived this long, almost two years now, in this fire burning world. Your smarts, being a country/farm kid growing up, and your love of reading anything you could get your hands on help you survive this long. 

So, you need to prove something to the members of this group that found you a few weeks ago and brought you into their community? Maybe, you're sure they are still assessing you, and seeing if you're worth the trouble of being another mouth to feed and another body to protect. 

The leader, Rick, seems nice, standoffish, but also a protector that if you do get to stay with them, would be loyal and a big brother figure for you. Maggie, is also in that camp of big sister energy that would kick anyone’s ass for you. 

No, if you were to put money on who in the group is still questioning if they should take you in or not, that would be the redneck hunter Daryl. 

Daryl was the one that came across you while you were scavenging an abandoned drug store just a few miles south from where the group’s camp was. He was the one that held a crossbow aimed at your back, telling you to drop the antibiotics that there was a baby in his camp that needed it more than you. 

Flashback

“Don’t make me say it again, drop the drugs.” A gruff, gravelly voice, from behind you, fills the silence of the space, and makes you freeze like a deer in headlights.

Getting up from your crouch position, you slowly turn, with the bottle of pills in your hand. Sweat from the fever you're currently trying to shake and not the Georgia heat drips down your face. If you hadn’t already heard him speak, you would have thought you were seeing things. There standing in front of you is a man, dressed all in black, his dark brown hair long and slightly covering one side of his face, while the other side is slightly covered by the crossbow that is currently aimed at you. His lean but muscular frame in a stance that screams hunter, his tone arms never wavering, so you know that he will wait you out, he has the discipline to do so.

“Fuck…I can’t…” you reply desperation, and exhaustion taking over. You know that you should be scare, you should be worried that he’s going to let go of the trigger, and put you out of your misery, but, you can’t give a fuck at this point. 

“Will you at least aim for the head, if you're going to kill me.” You quip leaning on the shelving next to you, feeling yourself get weaker.

This seems to throw off the mystery man, as he hesitates for a second, “what?” he questions, not lowering his bow, but moving his finger from the trigger.

Grabbing something from your back pocket, a purple bandana, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. “Look, I can’t come back as one of the dead.” your voice ragged. “You could give me at least that courtesy. Because otherwise, I will find you, and eat you.” You joke, giving your best Lim Nelson voice at the end. 

The mystery man doesn't seem to get the reference to that line, as he gives no reaction to the idea that you, as a walker, could somehow find him on purpose and eat him. 

“It's a joke…it's from…never mind.” You toss the bottle of pills towards him, and slide down to the floor and wait for either the exhaustion, fever, or this mystery man to take you.

Your mind is fuzzy, and either this guy will leave you alone or not. With your eyes closed, you can hear the rustle of him putting the bottle in his bag, and then the sound of him coming over the counter and towards you. His footsteps stop and you can feel him staring down at you. “What?” Uou question, keeping your eyes closed. 

“Whatcha doing?” he questions. “you bit?”

“Waiting for a bus, what does it look like? I am sick you ass, and I am exhausted.” Your frustration taking over. You open your eyes to find him crouching down and bringing a hand up to your forehead, “What the hell, dude!” You slap his hand from you and push yourself up and back from him, scattering bottles around you. “Just leave, you got what you wanted.”

“You didn’t answer me, are you bit?” He grumbles back, harsher this time, with authority. Annoyance is now apparent, and his blue eyes that are staring at you seem to bore into your soul.

“No, I am not bit, just sick. With the quick change in weather we had, my body...why am I explaining this to you….” you start and stop yourself from going into detail about how back when the world was somewhat ‘normal’ any drastic change in the weather always sent you into a quick cold for a few days.

Ringing out your bandana, you run it over your face and down your neck. What you wouldn’t give for some cold water, a nice cool lake to dive into. Your mind drifting to the fantasy of cooling waters is cut short when your bandana is taken from you and quickly replaced with a cool wet red one.

“What the…'' you're about to protest, when the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin shuts you up. You see him, pouring a bit more water on the rag and running it down your bare arms.

He doesn’t say anything, after wiping both your arms, he gets the rag wet again with cold water and hands it to you, “take it.”

You do, and wipe your face and then cover your forehead with it. You close your eyes and let the cool water seep through your pores, it's something, it won’t cure you, but it's something for now.

“Here.” His voice brings you back, and you open your eyes to see him holding out some of the pills and his water jug. 

Your hestent, wondering why he’s being so nice now? He keeps his hand out for you to take the items, and after another second of thinking you finally do. Swallowing the pills and taking the smallest of drinks, no need to piss him off by downing his water, you hand back the jug. “Thanks.” You mumble. 

He nods, and is about to speak when another voice from the other side of the counter breaks the slice, “Daryl, you in here?” 

Present 

You would soon come to find out and meet Rick Grimes, the man attached to that voice, and after seeing you in the state you were in that day, and asking himself if you were bit. Would then ask if you wanted to come with them and join their group.

Now here you were, somehow stuck back in that same drug store just a few miles from camp. Nighttime has settled in, and you can’t leave, with the horde of walkers outside, too many to kill on your own. Even if you could somehow make a path through, you know yourself, and your fighting abilities, you were good, but not that good.

Luckily the doors were still in good shape, and the horde didn’t know you were in the store, so they were just passing by. This has been going on for 20 minutes, and it didn’t look like they were going away anytime soon.

You had checked the backdoor, but it must be barcade on the outside, so here you sit, with your back against the wall, behind that same counter, waiting for the time pass, and hoping no one from the group notices that you're gone and starts to worry.

Running through your interactions with everyone earlier, you don’t think anyone would have seen you slip out, and you never told anyone of your plan, so you should be good, you try and reassure yourself. Stacking up the discarded bottles again in a precarious tower, what else is there to do?

“What are you doing?” a voice, gruff, deep, deadpan startles you and the tower tumbles down.

“Shit!” you yell, looking up you see Daryl leaning over the counter looking down at you. “How did you….” you start to question. Wondering how he found you? Why was he here? and how did he get in?

He strums his fingers on the counter, as if he can read your thoughts, “I saw you slip out from the gates after dinner. Waited for a bit, but when it was getting dusk and you weren’t back, figure I go out and find you.”

“So you tracked me like what...a dear?” You question, not sure if you should be flattered or creeped out by it.

“No…a dear would have been a bit more of a challenge, you were easy to find.” He jokes, and gives you a quick smile, to your glare and giving him the finger.

“Ha,ha,” you quip. getting up, you walk over to the counter, “how did you get in? sounds like that horde of walkers are still out there?” You question, looking over his shoulder, you can just barely make out the crowd still moving.

He looks towards the doors and then back to you. “AC unit on the roof, the air return drops down in the office on the other side of the store.”

“Well aren’t you just the MacGyver of the post-apocalyptic world?” You tease. He cocks his head, giving you a questionable look at your reference. Letting a sigh, “Sersious, dude, what did you watch as a kid? or did you not have a tv?”

“Come on.” He brushes off your comments, and motions for you to follow him. “What were you thinking of doing a run this late?” He questions, waiting for you to grab your gear and walk over to him.

Shit, you were hoping not to have to tell anyone why you went on this run. There was a reason you went on your own, and Daryl, especially telling Daryl was not on your list of something you wanted to do. “Umm…it's nothing….stupid really…” you start and stop yourself, wishing he would take pity on you and drop it.

Daryl wasn’t going to let you off with that answer. After all he did come and risk his ass in saving you. Even though it wasn’t a big risk for him, he knew he could find you, and get you back to camp in one piece, but still, he wants an explanation. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he is not moving until you start talking. “Come on, out with it.”

You let out a sigh, “Fine” you say, and start digging in your bag, “this.” You state and pull out your purple bandana. 

Daryl knew that was yours the moment he saw you pull it out of the bag. He remembered it, taking a corner of it in his hands, the fabric ruff from the dried water/sweat. “You came back for this?” He questions, wondering why risking your neck for a piece of fabric was so important.

Slightly embarrassed, taking Daryl’s tone as stupidity or bewilderment, you pull back the bandana from his fingers and stuff it back in the bag. “Look, I said it was stupid, okay, lets just drop this and go.” You quip, feeling your cheeks start to go red of embarrassment. You start to head towards the office.

The feel of Daryl’s hand on your wrist, stops you from taking any more steps from him. “Don’t walk away from me.” His voice is commanding, but not in a harsh mean way.

The feel of his callus hands in your slightly worked but not as worked as his send a shiver up your spine. You’ve only known him for a few weeks now, and most of that time you were coming down from a cold. So why was the feel of his skin next to yours, him coming to find you, and the thoughts of him judging you make your head spin and your heart slightly race. “You're going to think it's stupid” you mumble, keeping your eyes and body away from him.

“Try me.” He replies, letting you keep your eyes off him, but still holding you in place.

You let out a breath, “it was my dad’s, or at least one of them. He was a mechanic before the world fell, and he always had a bandana in his back pocket. This was my favorite color.” Your voice slightly cracks at the end. thinking about your dad, your family, life before the world was on fire, it hurts too much. You feel the tears start to slightly fall. “He was gone before…”

Pulling you back and into his arms, laying your head on his chest, Daryl says nothing. He wraps his arms around you, surrounding you in a cocoon of him. The feel of him, his strength around allows you to let go. Sobbing, cries that you have been holding in for so long let go, and pour out of you and into his chest. He’s silent, running a hand up and down your back in comfort.

You're not sure how long, but when you feel there is nothing left you pull back to see the tear stain circles on his black shirt. “I am sorry.” Your voice shakes, bringing a hand up to wipe your face. 

Daryl takes his red bandana out from his back pocket, and wipes your cheeks. “Nothing to be sorry about.” He replies. Gentle wipe away the last tear from your jaw. He knows what it's like to lose your family, to be on your own. He wants to tell her he understands that she shouldn't be embarrassed by wanting to hold onto a piece of her past. He gets it, in more ways then she will ever know.

But now is not the time. Whatever he’s feeling for her, whatever he thinks could happen between them, the reality is, that it won’t. This pull that she has on him, it will pass, it has too. Stuffing the red bandana back into his pocket, and his feelings aside. He lets go of his hold on her and starts walking towards the office.

[rainwaterapothecary]

Date Night

Serennedy Mini Week Prompt 1 - Anniversary

Late Fall 2012

The ‘Anniversary Effect’ was a load of bullshit, Leon decided, hunching his shoulders inward during his debrief. To an outside observer, the motion was a careful display of insubordination and boredom.

In truth, it was only the warmth of his jacket that was keeping the chills of a panic attack at bay.

He buried his nose in the fur-lined collar of the coat Luis had bought him when he was out one day doing who knew what.

It wasn’t quite the one he’d lost…There, but it had a similar feeling on his hands when he felt the fuzzy lining and that was good enough.

It was also black, so that was a bonus.

His mask of boredom was beginning to dip into ‘sleepy’ as his eyelashes fluttered.

This jacket had something else his lambskin hadn’t: It smelled like Luis.

Leon usually kept his jackets hung up in a closet when he wasn’t using them, but lately it had been getting chilly enough to hang this one by the front door.

Said front door that sat right beside the kitchen his teacher’s assistant of a partner usually set up camp on school nights.

Herbs and spices danced away from his nose as he gave up and closed his eyes.

-*-*-

Second Summer 2007

”Oh, amor! Bienvenido.” His academic had looked up from the usual whirlwind of notes their kitchen table always became as soon as he’d gotten home and changed out of his work clothes. The soft, yellow light of the space glowed around the seated man’s hair like a halo, highlighting the silver hairs he swore his students were multiplying on purpose.

“Hey, Lu.” Leon was exhausted and all he really wanted was to become a blanket cocoon and bid the waking world goodbye.

For about 12 to 48 hours in a row. He wasn’t picky.

Then Luis had smiled that smile he had. The soft one that brought out his smile lines.

Luis’ crows feet had been getting deeper, Leon realized with a jolt. He pulled a cold beer out of the fridge and closed the appliance with one hip, leaning back amongst the magnets and photos of Sherry.

“What?” Blue eyes sparkled back at the smiling man.

Luis settled his chin on the back of his interlaced fingers and tilted his head.

“Just you. I’m happy you’re home, all safe and sound.” Then the cheeky bastard winked at him and Leon huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes fondly. This guy.

“Yep,” He smirked, pulling his next statement out of his back pocket like a flourish of a surprise. “You have me all weekend, amigo. Start plotting.”

A wicked glint formed in the Spaniard’s eyes just for a moment before he hid his mouth behind one ring-flecked hand.

“You assume I haven’t been plotting? Mi vida, it’s like you don’t know me at all!”

The agent snorted another laugh and sauntered over to the table, happily planting himself on the unclaimed left thigh of Luis Serra. Warm arms easily enveloped his abdomen as he sipped at his beer and tried to make out what the hell his partner had been writing. His handwriting really was atrocious when he was in the Zone.

Soft lips rested on the nape of the Agent’s neck, accented by stubble that always sent a pleasant chill down Leon’s spine. He hummed in question.

“What are you doing tomorrow? Well not tomorrow, I know better than to tear you away from your beauty sleep but I think we’re overdue for a date night.”

The thought shocked Leon for a moment, rifling through recent memory for their last date and it took him too long to find it.

Then a bubbly warmth filled him as the knowledge that his sweetheart wanted to spend time with him sunk in. Had probably had everything all planned out and lined up, just waiting for Leon to walk into it.

He couldn’t stop his smile if he tried.

“Oh yeah?”

Curls rustled against the back of his neck as the other man nodded, coming to rest with his forehead cradled in the dip beneath Leon’s skull. It was a nice feeling, knowing his weak spot was covered and protected in such a way.

-

Date night had started not long after they got together, way back in 2006. It had been another one of those strokes of genius that Luis had pulled out of nowhere that aligned perfectly with the words Leon didn’t know how to say.

Being in a loving, gay relationship in the States was…hit or miss back then, and with DADT in full-swing, it was just easier to keep Luis to himself.

Sure, they went out dancing and they got drinks, but Leon was a romantic, deep down. Beneath the layers of angst and trauma, he was a lover trained to be a fighter.

Luis had somehow seen that from day one, deep in the bowels of his childhood nightmare with Leon’s fist pinning him against a wall.

Those sharp, whip-smart eyes had seen him, his own eyes bloodshot and barely restraining the despair and rage.

Leon had asked him later, of course, when Luis had first fallen for him. While that moment in the cabin wasn’t the answer, it certainly hadn’t hurt.

Instead, he’d learned. He’d gathered what information Leon dropped and he watched.

And the version of Leon S. Kennedy that those jigsaw pieces filled in took his breath away.

Leon had a garbage sense of humor, he liked old movies, he knew how to DIY most things and had a frankly concerning lack of self-preservation when it came to electrical wiring.

Luis collected all of these like they were gems or pebbles of the purest gold. He horded them like a dragon and held them close to his chest to complete himself where his proverbial missing scale lay. He reveled in them.

And then he used them to charm Leon off his feet.

The agent literally didn’t know what hit him. He felt like he’d been leveled by a freight train when he found out how tailored to his interests their first date was and he almost shed a tear.

“You- How?” Some sort of inner turmoil was causing Leon’s face to go through a myriad of expressions and Luis wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold his hand. Instead, he smiled and tucked his traitorous digits into the pockets of his own slacks.

“Well I keep my eyes open, Sancho. You find all sorts of treasures that way, you know.”

The agent did not blush at the way his lover repeated a sentence he’d said the night before under completely different circumstances. Leon caught him biting his lip to hold back a smile and he shook his head, hiked his jacket up around his shoulders, and shrugged.

“Lead the way, Gene Kelley.” Leon made a sweeping motion towards the plaster art nouveau façade.

Luis chuckled and sauntered into the theater.

“Only if you follow, Mr. O’Connor.” He called over his shoulder.

Leon shook his head fondly and followed.

The other man had somehow found a theater, in their tiny town, that was re-screening the classics and the bombastic man had somehow kept it a complete surprise.

It was also the one venue where two men could hold hands in public.

Leon leapt at the opportunity, holding his lover’s hand in one of his own as soon as the house lights went down. The flash of Luis’ teeth in the darkness betrayed the man’s infectious grin at his eagerness.

Watching movies with Luis was perfect, Leon decided afterwards. Sure, they had movie nights at home pretty often, what with their specific cinephile niches barely overlapping (unless it included Judy Garland, for obvious reasons), but that was different. At home, they could (and often did) pause the film when they had to go on a tangent and-

And Luis respected the films enough to understand that Leon hated talking over dialogue, so they paused the tapes. It was so easy.

Luis didn’t know all the specific vocabulary for cinematography and staging decisions, but damn it he knew when they were referencing literary or theatre classics. It blew open a whole new side of Leon’s favorite hobby. He knew there were themes and line-drops from classics, obviously, but to have a partner who was just as willing to analyze and lose their /mind/ over delivery? If Leon wasn’t in love before, he certainly was after listening to Luis compare ancient Greek philosophy to socialism through the scope of a silent movie they’d found in the library’s archives.

But in theaters? He didn’t distract Leon, thank fuck.

The other man always seemed so surprised and pleased when Leon leaned over to whisper something in his ear during the screening, but otherwise he left him the hell alone.

Outside, after looking up at the stars and coming down off of a good film, Leon had looked at his partner with an internal spark in his eyes and kissed him against the bricks of the back of the theatre until they were both bruised and breathless.

-*-*-

“Agent Kennedy!”

Leon’s eyes snapped open and he treated the government peon to one of his finest scowls.

God, he hoped Luis was home tonight. Maybe they could go to the museum again and Leon would be able to let Luis’ excitement wash over him and wipe all of this bullshit away.

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow, eyes cold. This better not be going where he thinks it is…

-

By the time Leon S. Kennedy shouldered his way into the front door of his house, his knuckles had nearly stopped bleeding after the fight he had gotten into after the dickhead he works with had the stones to shit-talk the Soviet resistance fighters.

Fucking Anniversary Effect.

He hung up his jacket, took in the pile of notebooks on the kitchen table, and raised his voice just enough to carry past their warmly lit kitchen.

“Lu? You home?”

“Sancho? Be right there!”

Leon tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders as the muffled footfalls of his partner sounded down the carpeted stairs and finally revealed that halo of silver hair and soft smile lines that were getting deeper, and more cherished, every year.

“Bienvenido, amigo.”

That soft kitchen light caught on the golden band Leon kept on a chain around his neck as he pulled his partner into a helpless kiss and a strong embrace.

Fucking Anniversary Effect.

-------------

A/N BACK AT IT WITH MINI WEEK!

This work is part of my Memories 'Verse from Serennedy Pride Week! You can read the full series [here].

Everybody go say thank you to @wisecrackingeric-2 and @raccoons-garbage-can for putting on this event!

[plussizefantasia]

Dr. Encyclopedia

Flufftover Day 26: Coffee Shop

Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: I kind of went off prompt here, but I really like where it ended up. My requests are still open for things to write after October is done so send them in. Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated. I'll see y'all tomorrow!

ps. all the facts in here were googled so they might be wrong, but who knows?

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You weren’t planning on spending your entire morning in the quaint little coffee shop that you walk past on your way to work, but the raging storm outside dictated that you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. You had your work laptop and could do some of your tasks from pretty much anywhere, minus team meetings but you didn’t have one of those today. You sent off a quick text to your boss letting her know that you'd be avoiding arriving at the office sporting the drowned rat look and would be there when the rain let up. She had told you not to sweat it and that she’d see you when you got there.

A similar story to yours was playing out on the other side of the shop. A very fidgety Spencer Reid was on the phone with Hotch letting him know that he was stranded in the little coffee shop and bakery he went to every morning. Because Spencer didn’t like to drive, he walked this way to get to the train that would take him a block away from Quantico, but like you also was trapped by the torrential downpour lest he soak through his sweater and catch a cold. 

“Hotch, it’s raining pretty hard here, I don’t think you want me trying to make it there in this weather.” You were unable to hear the other side of the conversation “Yeah, okay. Yes. Yes. Sir, I will bring you one of the muffins you like.” You let out a little chuckle at the handsome stranger’s negotiating skills. 

“Boss man not happy?” you queried.

“Oh,” the man looked between his phone and you, “he’ll be okay. He loved the banana nut muffins from here.”

“Hmm. Did you know that the banana plant is the largest plant in the world without a woody stem? The trunk is just banana leaves intertwined around each other making a strong base.” You offered. You found that fun facts were a great way to break the ice, and if this man was to be your only real company besides the busy-looking barista behind the counter until the rain ended, you wanted to get off on the right foot.

“I did. Did you know that the first discovery of coffee’s stimulant effects was made by 15th-century goats?” He replied, nodding his head at the coffee cup you were holding.

‘Goats?” You asked. 

“Yes, they were found by the locals in a small Brazilian town and were more energetic than the average goat, causing the coffee plant to be found and its use deduced.”

“Well, that is just about the funnest fact I’ve ever heard.” You told him, pushing your hand out to offer the man a handshake.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands. You transfer fewer germs by kissing than shaking hands.”

You put your hand down, “what is your name?” 

‘Spencer Reid.” He handed you a business card with his name on it from somewhere on his body, you weren't sure. It was like it had just appeared. 

You read the card. “FBI, huh? So you’re like real important aren’t you.”

‘I don’t know about that the FBI employs about 35,000 people across the US, I’m just one man.”

“One man, who knows a lot about caffeinated goats.”

“I know a lot about a lot of things.”

“Prove it.” You had challenged. With a raise of his eyebrow, he followed your instructions. For the next hour and a half the two of you sat at a small table in the corner of the shop, the only customers in the whole place. Rain beat against the windows and the light outside dimmed, being replaced with a sort of grey sheen that seemed to bathe the whole interior of the shop in a bittersweet melancholy. 

Spencer and you went fact for fact, he was polite enough not to admit that he knew all of the facts you had presented already, or tell you that a few of them were wrong. He was astonished that you were willing to listen to his rambling for so long. The only person who could really stand to listen to him for a long period of time was JJ and her record was 45 minutes, you were going into hour two.

“So, Mr. FBI. How do you know so many wonderful things?”

‘I was kind of a lonely kid, I graduated early from every school I was in, and didn’t have many friends so I turned to books. And when you have an eidetic memory, you learn a lot of things.”

“I didn’t have many friends either,” you reassured him, not wanting him to stew in his vulnerability alone, “I taught myself all kinds of things. How to sew, how to make chicken cordon blue, growing vegetables.” you sighed sort of wistfully. “Looking back, they aren't very impressive skills but I love them growing up.”

‘I don’t know about not impressive, I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.” Spencer admitted. “I think your skills sound pretty great.”

“Yeah? Well, I think being a walking encyclopedia is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The two of you just sat in the pleasant silence for a little bit. Both are a little shy after so many compliments. Spencer’s phone rang.

“Dr. Reid.” He answered giving you an apologetic look and standing up from the table.

Dr. Reid. He hadn’t told you he was a doctor, you want to know what his PhD was in. YOu wanted to know all about him, you wanted to know him.

“Reid, where are you?” Hotch asked.

“I told you that I was in the shop, I’d be there when the rain was over. 

“Reid. The rain is over, the rain has been over for twenty minutes.” Spenser immediately shot his head towards the window of the shop. Hotch was right, there were still water droplets that clung to the glass, but the downpour had stopped. The clouds had passed and several rays of sunlight were beginning to seep into the space.

“I- I didn’t even notice. I’ll be there soon. With your muffin.” Spencer hung up before Hotch could reply. He turned back to the table the two of you had taken up.

“Did you notice that the rain had stopped?” He asked. You also looked out the window. You let out a soft chuckle.

“No, I didn’t. How long has it been done?” 

‘According to Bossman, about twenty minutes.”

“Jesus. I guess we really got lost in our own bubble there.” You supplied

‘I guess we did.” Spencer lingered. It had been years since he met someone who was able to keep his attention like that. “Would you um, would you like to get coffee again sometime?” He asked.

You couldn't fight the beaming smile that took up the bottom half of your face. “I’d love to. Dr. Reid.” 

“Okay, Yeah. Good. Umm, call me?” Spencer bumbled, reaching for the brown paper bag that held Hotch’s muffin and grabbing his satchel bag from the back of his seat.

“I will.” You lifted up the card he had given you in between your fingers. “I definitely will.”

Spencer backed out of the shop, looking at you the entire time. And only when he was out of your eyeline did he let himself celebrate. He would have to tell Morgan, this would definitely get him off his back.

You saved Spencer’s number in your phone, under Dr. Encycolpedia, and started counting down the minutes to when you’d be able to call him. You really wanted to get coffee again.

[maybege]

217 with paz pls🥺

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary: You visit Paz at one of his conference after not having seen him for a long time.

Pairing: sugar daddy!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 9.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, a whole lot of size kink, hints of exhibitionism, unprotected sex, idiots in love, kind of a fake relationship agreement not really a sugar daddy arrangement, lots of checking in and pausing due to size difference (Paz’s BDE is real), crying during sex (from pleasure not pain, Paz makes sure of that), just pure fluff and happiness but also they are idiots in love so remember that

Prompts: #3 “I'd hold onto something if I were you.” + #32 “I just wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” + #217 “Can you help me with this zipper?” + “There we go.”

Thank you, anon and @adancedivasmom for sending in these prompts! I know it has been a very long time in the making but inspiration strikes when it strikes and I wrote over half of it in the last 48 hours. It drifts from fluff to pure filth back to utter fluff and I just love how idiots in love I can put in with these two. They have the most unconventional relationship (again, a reminder that this is not an actual sugar daddy dynamic, it is just a kind of very unusual meet cute) so of course they will also have an unusual way of perceiving and revealing their feelings for each other. You can find the Masterpost to this AU here (including some hcs). I really had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you have a lot of fun reading it as well. Pretty please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog, they really do mean the world to me and motivate me so much when it comes to writing and sharing my little brain babies. ❤️

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

gif by @bernthality

“How is my favourite cat?”

“She is busy knocking over the flowers you sent over.”

Crash!

You sighed.

“Maybe we should really invest in these break-safe vases your sister recommended,” you murmured, trying to sit up so you could peek over the edge of the sofa. Safe enough, Snowball was sitting on the sideboard in the entryway, peering down at the shards as if it was as much a mystery to her as it was to you.

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” Paz chuckled, rubbing his chin, “I will text her tomorrow.”

The sound of his laugh seemed to get Snowball out of her thoughts and she bounded for the sofa you were currently laying on. With a loud meow, she jumped onto the armrest, laying low so she could butt her little face next to yours, in plain view of the camera.

“Look who has come to say hello,” you smiled, tilting the phone so he could see her more clearly. Your other hand reached up to scratch her little chin.

“New York’s most important cat,” he agreed and you hoped the phone would pick up the purr she let out as she leant into you.

“She misses you,” you murmured, “She hardly stopped staring at the door yesterday.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You had sworn to yourself, in the early days of your fake relationship or whatever it could be called, that if there was one thing you would do it was to lift Paz up. And if that required you to hide how much you missed him (ridiculous amounts, really) then so be it.

“I miss her too,” he sighed, “And you.”

“How is the trip so far?” you asked, trying to sound more chipper, “Are the investors as happy as you’d hoped?”

“They are as boring as I expected them to be,” he shrugged before a slight smile formed on his lips, “But I cannot wait for the shareholder’s dinner on Saturday. Are you still planning to come?”

“Of course, I am,” you said indignantly, sitting up at the, “We haven’t seen each other in three weeks!”

Paz laughed, “I am sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean any offence,” his face softened, “Briggs will pick you up on Friday for the flight so you have time to relax. There shouldn’t be a lot of appointments I made sure –“

“Mr Vizsla? There is – oh.”

You could see one of his assistants in the background, clearly only now releasing that he was in a private conversation. There was a quick flash of displeasure on Paz’s face that disappeared as soon as you noticed it and you were sure that it was only because you knew him so well by now that you had recognized it.

“It’s all right,” you soothed him, already seeing the apology on his face. He had once said he hated goodbyes, especially because they were never his choice, and you could see it now, too, the way he seemed to be searching for the right words to appease you.

“I will see you in a few days,” you smiled, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he sighed, “Give Snowball some kisses from me, yeah?”

*

You spent the week feverishly preparing for your trip. It was funny to think that the part of your relationship that you found the most luxurious was the one that was actually at the core of your arrangement. Paz was lonely and on many occasions, his advisors advised, would work in his favour if he had a female companion to fulfil the picture of the man who had his life together. So somehow your accidental match on a drunken night had led to you being his travel companion. And the platonic companionship had quickly developed into something … not quite platonic.

To think that a stupid drunken idea by your friend had led you to sit on your bed, surrounded by the prettiest dresses you had ever seen and contemplating which one to take.

The doorbell rang you out of your thoughts and you laughed when Snowball skittered over the wooden floorboards to greet her second favourite man in the world.

“Briggs, you are early,” you greeted the older man with a smile and no venom in your voice. If there was one person on Paz’s team that made you feel welcome, it was him. Paz’s most trusted advisor and, quite tellingly, also yours.

“Good morning, Miss,” he nodded at you, straightening his tie before bending down to pet a purring Snowball, “Good morning, Miss Snowball.”

“You know you can call me by my name,” you reminded him as you made your way back to your bedroom and your half-packed bag.

“Old habits die hard, Miss,” the older man called from the living room, “Are you quite ready? I have arranged a car to take us to the airport, it should be here in five minutes.”

You rushed into the bathroom and picked up your already prepped toiletries bag and stuffed it into your suitcase. It might just be a weekend trip but if there was one thing you had learned when travelling with Paz Vizsla for business it was that it was always safe to pack two fancy outfits for every occasion – just in case.

“Five minutes should be enough,” you answered, “I got most of the packing done yesterday, I just need your help with something.”

When you popped your head through the door, you spotted Snowball rubbing herself against Briggs’s legs as the man primly sat in an armchair. He turned to look at you and the two dresses you were holding up. “Which one do you think –“

“The dark blue one,” the man decided with a nod, already knowing what you were going to ask, “Mr Vizsla has his dark blue tie with him, that should harmonize nicely.”

“Thanks,” you sighed a breath of relief, carefully folding the dress on the very top before closing the bag, “I can always count on you to make the best choices.”

“And to be on time,” the man added, standing up and running his hands over his jacket, “Which means that we should get going if do not want to miss our plane.”

*

The conference meeting Paz was attending took place on the coast, in one of those fancy beach hotels that looked like it was a luxury that had survived from the last century. It was stunningly beautiful and you found yourself admiring the golden accents and hand-painted wallpapers before you could even start to really appreciate the tastefully quiet piano player in the corner.

“Welcome, are you checking in?” the receptionist greeted you as another employee loaded your suitcase on a golden luggage trolley.

“Uh yes, I am here to join Mr Vizsla,” you answered, always feeling a little nervous when you had to make your connection to him known.

Recognition dawned on her face. “Ah yes,” she typed something into the computer before handing you a key card, “Mr Vizsla told us to be expecting you. Here’s your key card, you’ll need it for the elevators and all the amenities which you will find on the second floor. Just around the corner here,” she leant towards you and pointed towards a little nook, “take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor and you will find your room on the right side of the hall. Do you need anything else?”

You nodded, taking the card in hand. “That would be all for now, thank you.”

“Should I have your bags brought up?”

“That would be kind, thank you,” you smiled at the young man who hurried your bag away.

Briggs, who waited behind you for his turn to check in, cleared his throat. “Mr Vizsla is still in some talks, I’m afraid but if you like I could organize a dinner reservation for you.”

Shame filled you when you remembered what time it was. You hadn’t even thought about food. “I think, I will be fine, Briggs, thanks, I will just get some room service.”

The older man nodded, “Then a very good night, Miss. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Briggs.”

*

The suite Paz stayed in was, not to anyone’s surprise, absolutely gorgeous. The bedroom was large and the bed the largest you had ever seen. You smiled when you saw one side completely untouched – your side – and his clothes neatly folded on one of the armchairs. The wall opposite the bed was dominated by a flat-screen TV and the little desk by the window could barely be seen through piles and piles of paperwork.

After tipping the bellboy, you immediately took off your shoes and buried your toes in the soft cream carpet. You always dressed for comfort when it came to travelling but there was still nothing better than unpacking your suitcase and putting on your pyjamas for a comfortable night in.

You had just checked your cameras at home (Mrs Marigold had been so kind to volunteer and check in on Snowball every day) and made sure that Snowball was comfortable and taken care of when your phone vibrated with a new message.

Paz: Talks take even longer than expected. Don’t wait for me.

Then,  just a moment later, another message popped up.

Paz: I am glad you are here.

You: Should I order some food for you? Gonna get some room service.

Paz: Got dinner here but I can recommend the tacos on there, had them yesterday and they were delicious.

You smiled at the screen, sending him a quick heart emoji. Already feeling closer to the. And so, you ordered yourself the tacos, watched reruns of The Nanny and lounged on the bed, already knowing that tomorrow you would wake up with Paz beside you.

*

You flinched up, eyes wide open as something woke you. You just didn’t know what. It took you a moment to realize you were in a hotel room and not at home. Someone was beside you and your heart stopped in fright for a second before it resumed beating in your chest.

It was Paz.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered in the dark, scooting behind you, “I missed you.”

You smiled, relishing in the heat of his body against yours. He was shirtless and his mouth on your shoulders made you giggle. But your smile faded when he shifted away from you and the bed lifted with someone taking their weight off it.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, reaching your arm behind you only to find cold sheets.

“I need to shower,” he grumbled, “I stink.”

“Don’t go,” you pleaded, “We can shower tomorrow.”

You could hear the grin in his voice, “We?”

The blanket was lifted again and he was back behind you, so close not even a sheet of paper would have found space between your bodies. In the back of your mind, you wished you weren’t as tired, that you could appreciate his presence more. But then his arm wrapped around your middle and his breath fanned over your neck and you felt the happiest in weeks.

“Yes,” you murmured, closing your eyes again and allowing your body to drift back to sleep, “We.”

*

It was barely light out when you woke again.

“Paz?” you asked, sleepily, reaching for him only to find the space beside you empty. Again. You sat up, afraid that perhaps all of it had been a dream. What if Paz hadn’t come last night? What if something had happened?

Blinking, you finally found your focus and heard the water shut off in the bathroom. Moments later, Paz came in, a towel wrapped around his hips and you bit your lip. In the curtain-clad twilight of the room, it seemed he had not noticed yet that you were awake, sneaking his way to the wardrobe and taking out a new dress shirt.

You let your eyes roam over the broad expanse of his back, how the muscles bunched and flexed as he moved through the room. There was that spot just under his shoulder blade that you loved to run your hands over and if he just turned around – ah yes, there was that tattoo that you traced with your fingers.

“I thought we would shower together?”

Paz looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours and even in the dim light, you could see the smile on his face. He let the shirt fall and with two big steps, he was at the end of the bed, crawling towards you as you let the blanket fall from your chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. He breathed in deeply, his nose running over your jaw. And then his lips were on yours and you got to kiss him for the first time in weeks.

You hummed, smiling against him as your fingers played with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, still a little damp from his shower. His mouth was gentle on yours and the stubble on his chin let you know he hadn’t shaved today.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” Paz whispered between kisses, his mouth wandering to your jaw. You closed your eyes, your arms loosening around him as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. “Did you miss me too?”

“Uh huh,” you brought out, his large hands cupping your face, his entire hand spanning your jaw to behind your ear, “Missed you so much.”

“Can’t wait for the dinner tonight,” he said, turning your head so he could kiss you on the mouth again, his tongue slipping between your lips. You shuddered, your fingers combing through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. You loved seeing him in his professional get-ups with his hair slicked back and his sharp-cut suits. But there was something to say about how different he looked when he was just freshly showered. He looked much lighter, brighter and overall softer. Like a truer version of himself that you knew he hid when he attended meetings like these.

“Briggs helped me choose the dress,” you murmured, leaning more and more into him, “You will love it.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him,” he whispered back, pulling you against him and leaning back until you straddled him, “I have a meeting this morning as well. I am afraid I won’t have more time for you until tonight.”

“When will you need me?” you asked, taking in how soft he looked. There was no frown between his eyebrows, and he looked so … peaceful and relaxed.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fluttering as you traced your finger over his jaw. “I always need you,” he whispered and closed his eyes, turning his face to the side and pressing a kiss to your palm, “I swear I don’t know how I ever got through these things without you.”

“I am sure you did fabulously,” you assured him with a smile, kissing the corner of his mouth, “And it will all be over tonight.”

“It will all be over tonight,” he repeated in a murmur, “And then I can show you how much I missed you.”

*

Hours later, the ringing phone woke you from your dreams.

“Hello?” you asked groggily into the speaker, feeling even more tired than when Paz had left you this morning to attend the very last meetings.  

“Good morning, Miss, this is the reception calling,” a woman chirped from the other end, “Mr Vizsla asked us to remind you of your spa appointment in an hour.”

You huffed with a smile. That was so typical of him.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “I really would’ve forgotten about it.”

“Would you like to order room service for breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah,” you asked, looking frantically around for the menu, “I, uh, I don’t know what I want yet …”

“May I suggest our breakfast special?” the woman on the line suggested candidly, “It has some fresh pressed orange juice, coffee, pastries and eggs however you want them.”

“That sounds good,” you nodded, “Could I have them scrambled please?”

“Of course, I will have it brought up shortly.”

*

When the afternoon was nearing its end, you felt more relaxed than ever in your life.  

Paz had booked what felt like the entire spa menu for you and after all kinds of massages, treatments and relaxing sauna visits, you felt like you were living on a cloud. But truly the best thing about your spa visit was that it distracted you from the entire day you had without Paz. Because as soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with your very favourite sight.

Paz Vizsla was clad in only briefs as he unglamorously hopped into a new pair of slacks.

His face turned up and a blinding smile came onto his lips. A smile you could only reciprocate.

And before you knew it you hurried into his arms and he hold you against his chest, stumbling from how his feet were tangled into the piece of clothing but you couldn’t care less when he kissed you like a man starved.

“Remind me to never go this long without seeing you,” he grunted between kisses, “I always hate it.”

You couldn’t answer from how his tongue was playing with yours, your core clenching at how close he was. Stars, you wanted to do other things than preparing for dinner.

And it seemed that Paz wanted that too because his hands cupped your ass, pushing you against him and there was definitely a prominent bulge pressing against your hip.

“When’s the dinner start?” you asked breathlessly, running your hand over his warm chest before tracing your fingers over his lower stomach.

Paz’s hips surged forward, urging you to touch him and you could feel your cheeks and frankly your entire body heat up with want. “Too soon,” he answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you between his legs. His hand shifted to your hips and he looked up at you.

The bathrobe you had worn to the spa gaped open at the neck and you watched him tug at the fuzzy belt with a smirk. The cool air caressed your bare skin and could feel your nipples harden under Paz’s admiring gaze.

You lifted your knee to the bed right next to his hip, hoping to look as enticing as possible. “Don’t you think we have enough time for a –“

“I am not going to have the first time I fuck you in weeks be a fucking quickie,” Paz complained, though his hands did pull you closer for a minute, “I want to take my time with you, make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“Paz,” you whined when he pushed your leg off him, making you stand again, “Please.”

But the large man was not to be swayed, even with his erection too prominent to ignore, “Not yet, sweetheart, just let us get through this dinner first.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

You pointedly looked at his crotch.

“Don’t you worry,” he grinned, “I am going to take care of that and then I am going to take care of that tuxedo Briggs got me to bring.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you love me for it.”

And the sad truth was: You did.

*

“Can you help me with this zipper?” you asked, turning your back to a just-emerging-from-the-shower Paz, “I can’t reach it.”

Paz did not let you wait, immediately stepping behind you, the heat of his body radiating onto your back. “You look so beautiful,” he said, his fingertips grazing your bare skin before getting a hold of the zip. It was a dark blue silk dress, one that accentuated and hugged your curves and made you feel irresistible with the deep back and swooping neckline.

“We’re in partner look,” you joked, glancing at the dark blue tie he was wearing, “You look very handsome, Mr Vizsla.”

He grinned, turning you around, “And I am sure no one will notice when I am accompanied by a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

And you were proven right because the first words you heard when you entered the hotel’s restaurant that had been booked for the occasion were: “Mr Vizsla, what a beautiful companion you have brought with you this fine evening.”

“Mr Organa,” Paz greeted the man in front of you, “A pleasure to meet you again.”

He introduced you to him and you shook the man’s hand, reciprocating his friendly smile. “I do hope we get to talk again, Mr Vizsla,” the man said when the bell rang, “But now I think it is time to eat.”

Spending the evening with him once more reminded you of how much you loved him – even when you tried your hardest not to. Paz made sure to scoot as close to you as possible, his chair touching yours and it did not take long for his arm to settle comfortably on the back of your chair.

He laughed with his business partners, talking numbers and making jokes and it took everything in you not to spend the entire time just staring at him like a love-struck teenager. Mrs Organa, who was fortunately sat next to you, involved you in a conversation about the most recent restoration projects of a Mr Boba Fett and so you spent the evening with Paz’s fingers brushing your shoulder and the occasional kiss on the cheek and talking to an incredibly interesting woman.

And still, all you wanted was for Paz and you to be alone.

“When do you think it would be not too early to go?” you asked him teasingly as the dessert was served. It was a delicate chocolate-y creation, served on a giant plate with what looked to be mango sorbet beside it.

His arm left your shoulders but his hand immediately landed on your knee, fingers drifting even higher. Paz chuckled, “I’d suggest now but the way you’re eyeing that chocolate soufflé has me thinking otherwise.”

You glared at him for his joke but the man just grinned, his dark eyes twinkling with joy as he took a bite of his own portion. The conversations around you continued and you watched as almost everyone went out to the dancefloor and the lights dimmed on the dining tables.

But all you could do was admire Paz out of the corner of your eyes. He was relaxed, leaning back in his chair as he observed everyone and even when he was lacking any tension in his shoulders or on his face, he looked so much in control of everything.

Stars, he was handsome.

His hand crept up on your thigh and you shifted, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks as he planted a kiss on your bare shoulder. “What are you thinking about, love?”

You loved when he called you that.

“You,” you replied, tilting your head to the side and smiling when his hand came up to turn your face towards him, pulling you in for a kiss.

“What are you wasting your precious thoughts on little old me?” he teased you, his big hand cupping the side of your neck.

“Old? Maybe,” you grinned, “But little? I don’t think so.”

He growled playfully, surging forward to kiss you again. Hard. His teeth grazed your bottom lip and you opened up for him, letting him control the kiss. When his free hand slipped down your side, his fingers passing your chest dangerously close, you squeezed your thighs.

“Paz,” you whimpered against his neck, gasping for breath, “I haven’t felt you in weeks.”

He growled, his hand landing dangerously high on your lap before discreetly squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, his fingers so close to your core you were surprised the fabric of your dress did not come back with a wet spot. “Believe me,” he said, “I am more than aware of how long it’s been.”

Eternally grateful that the other guests had left your table to join the dancefloor, you opened up your legs the tiniest bit for him, needing his fingers just that much closer. Way closer than they were now. The grin on Paz’s face made your heart (and pussy) pulse and you swallowed thickly.

“I just missed you so much,” you said quietly, trying to bite your lip seductively.

“Did you now?” he leant forward, his nose brushing against yours. His fingers flexed, brushing higher on the inside of your thighs.  

“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, cupping his cheek to hold him closer. The stubble was rough under your fingertips and you remembered that time he ate you out in his city car in bright daylight. Stars, the things this man did to you ….

Paz chuckled darkly and kissed you again, soft and gentle while his fingers brushed over the thin fabric of your panties. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip just as your hips bucked against his hand and all shame left you.

If he wanted to fuck you out in the open you might just allow it if it meant you could finally feel him again.

But suddenly Paz was standing up and you were standing up and he was holding your hand, thick digits wrapping around your wrist as he dragged you towards the exit. You stumbled after him, a little confused but more excited than anything.

“We’re leaving now,” he grumbled, pushing the elevator button, “Waited weeks to see you again, I am not waiting any longer.”

The doors opened and Paz let you in first. You watched as he pressed the button at the very top and then turned to you. The look on his face made your breath catch in your throat. He had his hands in his pockets and the dark suit looked so good on him and then he had that slow smile on his lips as he approached you.

Your back bumped against the wall of the small room and your hands behind your back grabbed onto the waist-high bar they had installed on each wall.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his big hands caging you in, “I'd hold onto something if I were you.”

“Paz,” you said, your voice barely a whisper between the two of you.

“What?” he mocked you, his nose dragging along your shoulder, “All speechless now that you finally have my attention?”

You did not reply, probably proving his exact point but stars you were so turned on you just did not know what to say. Especially not when his large hand drifted along your thigh before grabbing your knee and lifting it up to his hip. He slotted his body against yours and his bulge pressed against your core. XXXX

“Don’t worry, I won’t take you like this,” he assured you, slowly grinding against you, “Can you tell me why?”

You whimpered, trying to move against him to get that pressure on your clit that you so badly wanted but his hips had you pinned in place.

“Tell me why first,” he instructed, “Then I’ll let you move.”

“Because-cause it’s too big,” your cheeks felt flush with warmth, “You don’t fuck me without preparation because you – you don’t want to hurt me.”

“Good girl,” he grinned, showing his teeth before using those same teeth to drag down the strap of your dress. Your head fell back and you regretted wearing a bra that night because it meant your nipples were rubbing against the lace instead of the cold fabric of Paz’s dress shirt.

The elevator pinged and you froze, your eyes immediately flitting to the little number over the door. This was not your floor.

Paz had a steel grip on your knee, preventing you from taking it from his hip. You could hear the door slowly opening and your heart raced for reasons other than the sheer excitement that Paz caused in you.

You watched as the dark-haired man slowly turned around, uncaring about the mess of his hair or your half-naked form in his arms.

“Take the next one,” he said and pressed the button for the doors to close. Then he leant back to you, one hand cupping the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw, while the other wandered from your knee to your hip, gripping at the naked skin.

You did not even catch a glimpse at the people he had spoken to. Paz’s body was completely shielding you from their view and somehow that did not help the wetness between your thighs.  

“I swear sometimes all I could think about was what it would be like to fuck you again,” he whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss just underneath your earlobe, “

The way from the elevator to your room was a blur of wet kisses, wandering hands and hot skin. Somehow, Paz managed to find the key card in his jacket and you both fell into the room more than you walked, refusing to let go of each other.

Paz walked you back to the bed, one hand reaching for the lube on the nightstand while the other opened his belt. Your breathing felt heavy and you were sure your panties must have been completely drenched at this point. Your hands found the hem of your dress and you pulled it up to your hips, not having the patience to get completely undressed.

Stars knew you had the time tonight. You could take it off later.

Paz pulled out his cock and you watched mesmerized as he put a generous drop of lube in his palm before wrapping his hand around his shaft. The cocky smile on his face told you that he had caught you watching but you were. At this point, your relationship with Paz was nothing new – especially not your physical one – but his size always left you feeling nervous.

He was not only long but also thick and while you knew.

“Could stare at your pussy all day long,” he murmured, his fingers tightening around his shaft before rubbing his fingers carefully over your folds. You squirmed, the lube making you feel. One finger entered you and shortly after another one.

Paz pumped his fingers inside you slowly, his eyes mustering your face for any sign of pain but all you did was whine, trying to push your hips against his. Your walls clamped around him and when his thumb rubbed over your clit ever so slightly, you swore you already saw stars.

“Feels like you are ready,” he determined, the pace of his fingers picking up before slowing down again. Until they barely moved.

“Oh, stars why’d you stop?” you threw your head back, arching your back so you could take them deeper, “Don’t stop, Paz.”

A third finger appeared at your entrance and Paz pressed a kiss to your hip. “It never gets old,” he murmured against your skin, “Watching you take my fingers.”

“Would be much rather taking your cock right now,” you replied breathlessly, moaning when he pushed his fingers a little deeper.

Paz did not answer in the form of words but he pulled his fingers out and stood up. Having him look down on you gave way to another rush of wetness from your core. He looked so dishevelled and sexy, half-dressed with his cock hard as a rock.

“Spread ‘em for me,” he growled, taking his cock in his hand while the other pushed on your inner thigh. He stepped closer between your legs, his hand warm on your thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your walls clenched around nothing at his praise.

The feeling of his cock against your pussy brought back that little nervous voice in the back of your head. What if he would not fit?

But Paz knew how to calm you down. The heat of his body against yours paired with his forearm resting next to your face and his fingers tracing your hairline as he looked at you was the perfect combination for you to focus just on him. On the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breathing in your ear, the scent of his cologne in your nose.

When the tip of him pushed inside you, you gasped. He was bigger than you remembered and you were thankful for the amount of lube and your wetness that eased his movements.

Your breathing got faster and you could feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. Paz’s fingers and you. His brows were furrowed and though his eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, they always met yours and you knew, you just knew, he was trying to see if he hurt you.

It felt like he was pushing all the air out of your lungs and you found yourself holding your breath, feeling his small thrusts stretch your walls more and more. Your belly fluttered and you felt so close to him that it made your heart sing.

“How – how much more?” you asked in a gasp, pushing your chest against his shirt to get some sensation on your nipples.

The large man looked down between you, his hand absentmindedly coming up to pinch your nipple, making you squeeze around him. 

He chuckled, his nose brushing against yours when he looked up again, “It’s barely in, love.”

Your smile fell and panic took over for a solid second. You could see the moment Paz took in your change of heart because his smile faded as well and his hand came up to cup your jaw. “What is it, love? Are you all right?”

“What – What if it is too big, Paz?” you asked shyly.

Paz frowned, though you did not get the feeling that it was because he was displeased with you, and slowly pulled out. “Then I will make it fit,” he said, “Or I will make you come on my tongue. Whatever you want, my love.”

You whined, immediately missing the feeling of him inside you. He peppered kisses along your neck, his hands under your dress, gripping your ass as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. His eyes focused on your core and the sparkle you saw in there made your heart flutter and your pussy clench.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you tried to give him more space. “I want you to make it fit,” you decided, feeling a little embarrassed at sounding so needy, “Please.”

Paz hummed, “Always so polite.” His shoulders pushed against the back of your knees as he looked at you. His eyes were so intense and, at that moment, you were convinced he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Deep breaths,” he reminded you, his thumb circling your clit as he rubbed his cock all over your folds, “I know you can take it. You know you can take it.”

You nodded, more to assure yourself than him. Because he was right. You had taken him countless times before and you could take him now. And if you couldn’t then it would not be the end of the world.  

Noticing you relaxing back into the sheets, Paz rested more of his weight on you. “Do you remember our safe word?”

You nodded quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I do,” you confirmed, “You won’t hurt me, Paz.”

“I know how stubborn you can be,” he reminded you gently before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I want you crying because I gave you too many orgasms, not because I am hurting you.”

You smiled at his comment but that smile quickly turned into a silent Oh when he circled your clit with his cock. Then he tapped his shaft against your pussy again and again and again. He felt hot and heavy and the wet sounds only spurred on the fire inside you. Stars, you wanted this man so bad.

The change in position helped a lot because this time he got the tip inside you like it was nothing.

“You are doing so good for me,” he murmured, his hips moving against yours in slow and small thrusts while his finger kept playing with your clit, “You are such a good girl for me, love, you deserve the world.”

There was nothing you could answer. Your throat was full of words but all you got out were breathless gasping sounds as you felt him get deeper and deeper. In your search to hold on to something, anything, you found his hand. You gripped his fingers so tightly, you were afraid to hurt him but Paz only squeezed back, his dark eyes searching yours and probably finding nothing but utter devotion in them.

Just like his.

His lips landed on yours so gently, it distracted you from everything. There was nothing but you and him and the way you felt so connected.

“Feel that?” he asked you quietly, his breath mingling with yours. You blinked, not really knowing what he meant. Paz smiled, his eyes softened when he laid his hand on your lower abdomen. “You took it all, sweetheart, you took all of me.”

“Oh,” you murmured, a little astonished, “Really?”

He laughed, “Really, love. How are you feeling?”

You thought for a moment, trying to take in all that you were feeling. “Full,” you answered truthfully, “But good.”

“Good, huh?” Paz started to move again, slow at first, making sure there was enough wetness and not a single trace of pain on your face, “It feels good to have me fill you up like this, huh?”

You nodded, too shy to repeat his words. Something was just how filthy he could get. And how he loved to fluster you with his said filthy words.

“Fucking dreamt of your pussy gripping me,” he grunted in your ear, his pace picking up, “Next time I am taking you with me. There is no way I am going to fly anywhere again without you sitting in my lap and taking my cock like a champ.”

“What – what about your advisors?” you asked, your body moving up the bed with the force of his thrusts.

“They can watch for all I care,” he murmured, “I already know the only one who can make this pussy stretch is me. I am the only one that can make you feel like this, aren’t I? The only one who can make you come and still beg for more.”

You nodded helplessly, feeling like you were about to burst at the seams. And then Paz changed the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly and you were done for.

“P-Paz, fuck, I’m –“ you gripped his shoulders, the tingling in your belly getting stronger and stronger, “Paz, I think I’m coming.”

Normally, that would only get him to move quicker, to have his fingers work on your clit in a way that was sure to get you over the edge before he came inside you. So, what you expected from your breathless announcement were Paz’s encouraging words while he slightly pinched your clit and bit your lip. What you didn’t expect him to do was simply stop his thrusts with an uttering of “Not yet you aren’t.”

Completely dazed, you looked at him as he pulled out. “Stand up,” he instructed. His voice was stern but not unkind and you blinked, watching him take off his tie and quickly unbutton his shirt. Your body ached with the lack of him and you weren’t sure if it was a tremble in your muscles that only you noticed but stars you felt like you were shaking.

Paz completely undressed and you tried your best to put your weight on your legs, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. But sitting up after having your thoughts fucked out of you by one Paz Vizsla seemed to be a bad idea because it just wasn’t working.

Paz seemed to notice your struggle, his hands pausing on his belt and he tilted his head, watching you fall back on the bed with a sigh.

“Do I need to call you Bambi?” he teased you, his hands coming up under your elbow and gently helping you up, “Or are you that fucked out already?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to think of a good reply. Only you could not come up with one because, stars, did he look good and, stars, did it feel good to be fucked by him. And it felt good to be with him and to touch him and to be touched by him and –

He stepped closer until his chest was pressed against yours, not saying anything. Your hand gripped his forearm and you waited with bated breath as he leant slightly over you. His fingers brushed over the nape of your neck, down your back until he found the zipper of your dress and slowly pulled it down, his hand tracing over your spine in the process.

When he reached the end, you shimmied your hips, the dress pooling at your feet. His eyes roamed over your figure, noticeably stopping at the way your panties were still pushed to the side.

“Beautiful,” he said, more to himself than to you but it warmed your heart nonetheless. Wordlessly, he helped you out of your underwear as well, his hands caressing your skin every chance he got. You had never felt so desired in your life.

His hand closed around your elbow and he started moving across the room.

“What are you doing?” you asked, following him away from the bed. You still felt uneasy on your legs but you knew you could trust Paz to hold you up and when he noticed your difficulty, he slowed down before stopping at the window front overlooking the city.

“I just wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it,” he explained as if it was no big deal.

You paused for a second and so did he, taking in your reaction.

“There is something about fucking you for everyone to see and knowing that no one gets to see you like this,” he elaborated, “Because I want you to look out at the world when you cream around my cock and recognize how fucking perfect you are.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

His smile lit up the entire room and he took your hands in his, positioning you exactly how he needed you. His calm but dominant demeanour made your pussy pulse again, reminded you how fucking confident he was when it came to your pleasure and how happy it made you to be able to fulfil some of his desires as well.

“There we go, put your hands right here and – beautiful,” he murmured, his hands intertwining with yours against the glass, “Now just spread your legs and there we go.”

The glass was cold under your palm and you could see the fog forming around your hand where the temperatures collided. Behind it, you could see the colourful lights of the city that a million people called their home. You were so high up there were barely any buildings that even reached your level but it did not help your nervousness to know that behind each little light there was at least one person.

There were hundreds of lights in your view.

You turned around, wanting to look at Paz for guidance. He slid his hands down your back before groping your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. He was unmistakably looking at your pussy and you shifted, feeling exposed under his gaze and in this position. Your movement made him look up, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, his hand gently pushing you to turn back, “Look outside.”

Easy to say when he wasn’t the one whose knees would get weak once he started to get going.

“The whole city is awake and yet no one can see us,” he whispered, pushing his cock slowly back inside you. You sighed, resting your cheek against the glass. The cold air and arousal had caused your nipples to harden and you were highly aware of how your tits swung with each movement.

“Stars, imagine all the places I could take you, all the places I could fuck you,” he mused, one hand coming up to cup your tit, his finger and thumb rolling your nipple. You moaned, tilting your head to the side. “I want to have you with me everywhere I go,” he continued, “I don’t want to wake up another day with the knowledge it’ll be weeks before I can see you again.”

“Paz –“

“There we go,” he hummed, pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade, “That turns you on, hm? Knowing there is nothing I wouldn’t do to feel your pussy come around me. I could get us the room with the best view in the whole city everywhere we go,” he pulled on your nipple and you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, “And then I would fuck you against that view and still the only thing I would want to look at is you.”

Your heart and your pussy clenched at sheer adoration in his words. “You are so fucking beautiful, love.”

“Paz, please, I –“

“What is it?” he asked you, his voice just on this side of mocking and why did that make him even hotter now, the way he made you feel a little too out of control, “What do you need, sweetheart?

“I need you to come in me.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” he reminded you, his hips not stopping their movement. Instead, his hands tightened on you just the tiniest bit and you whimpered, “You know I am the one who decides when I come in you. And it is only ever after I feel this,” he tapped his fingers on your clit, “tight pussy clamp around my cock.”

“I know, I know, but I,” you trailed off in a whine, pushing your hips back against his to try and work with his rhythm, “Please, Paz, I need it now.”

“Then beg me for it.”

You bit your lip, whimpering when he did not cease his ministrations on your clit. It pushed you even closer to the very edge and you could have cried from frustration. You just needed – You wanted – Why wouldn’t he just –

“That’s what I thought,” he mocked you, kissing your neck, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how shy that little mouth of yours is. You can’t wait to have your pussy stuffed with my fat cock but my innocent little sweetheart cannot even say the word cock. Or come,” he groaned, grinding into you, his fingers tugging on your nipple again, “Or pussy.”

“So, if you want my come before I planned to give it to you,” he breathed against you, “You have to beg for it, love.”

His rough tone made your cheeks burn and your pussy clench. Of course, he had noticed, Paz Vizsla was a ridiculously attentive man and there was a reason he was as successful as he was. You just had not thought that it would turn against you at some point.

“I am waiting,” he teased you, his cock once again hitting that spot that literally made you see stars.

With your hands slipping on the now warm glass and your pussy getting wetter and wetter, you knew there was only so much you could do before you would come.

“Please, Paz,” you cried, “Please come inside me, I need you to come inside me. Please, I – “ you hiccupped, tears stinging your eyes, “I want to feel you come inside my pussy.”

“Fuck, you really are that needy,” he stated, “Who would’ve thought.”

“Please,” you whimpered again, a single tear making its way down your cheek, “Please, Paz, I will do anything you want.”

You could barely stand, trying to keep your hands on the window and your knees from buckling. But that only got harder with each thrust of him inside you. And he was getting closer too. You could feel it in the way his breath hitched, or how his mouth sought out your neck, something he liked to do before he filled you up.

“Hm,” Paz mused, one hand coming up to hold yours against the glass. His entire body pressed against yours, holding you up and making you feel. “Anything, you say? What an enticing offer that I will certainly get back to. But for now, I think you begged prettily enough.”

His words should not have relieved you as much as they did but they did. More tears streamed down your cheeks and you let your head fall, trying to focus on how good you felt, how your entire body tingled with him close and how he.

While one of Paz’s hands stayed on yours, the other arm reached around you and found your clit. “You ready to get filled up?” he asked you, playing with that bundle of nerves, “You want to feel my come inside that tight little pussy. Want me to make you that pretty little mess I know you like to be?”

You nodded eagerly, “Uh huh, p-please, I want that.”

Paz groaned, the sound pure heaven to your ears, and his pace picked up. His thrusts got harder and deeper and ended with him grinding even more into you like he wanted to reach places you did not even know existed. And it made you feel that much better.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “If there is anyone who deserves my come, it is you.”

Clamping your walls around him and trying to move your hips against him, you did your best to make him feel as good as he made you. It was when he got quiet that you knew he was close and not even a moment later, he pulled you straight up, pressing you completely against the glass and him inside you.

You gasped at the cold feeling on your skin, but there was something undeniably erotic about having your tits squeezed up and Paz behind you. He buried his face in your neck, sucking a mark into your shoulder while he ground into you again and again. And it was that feeling of him coming inside you, paired with his fingers still very much circling your clit that made you come around him as well.

And it made you almost black out. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened in a silent gasp. You could feel your walls squeeze uncontrollably around him, milking him for all he was worth and you were pretty sure you had lost all control over your limbs. You were just hanging there, mouth open, pussy overflowing and legs trembling with the love of your life right behind you.

“Oh shit,” Paz laughed, feeling you tremble between him and the glass, “It’s a big one, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t really answer but you also knew you did not need to. Because Paz was there to take care of you.

For a little while, he did not move at all, simply letting you ride out your climax while he slowed his strokes over your clit. Time and again you could feel him twitch inside you and you thought to yourself that big one didn’t only apply to you – he had come so much inside you, it was already dripping out around where he was softening inside you.

“You are doing so good for me,” he whispered finally, pressing another kiss to your neck and you turned your head, trying to get him to properly kiss you. And he did, his lips gently landing on yours while he, very carefully, pulled out of you.

The feeling of his come flowing out of you made you grimace and shift on your feet.

“Bathroom?” he asked you quietly and you nodded weakly.

The hotel bathroom was all white marble and had fancy lights and even though Paz only switched on the mirror light, it made you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper. Why was everything so fucking bright?

“Shhh I know I know,” Paz murmured, wrapping his arms around you and leading you to the shower nook, “But I know you will want to clean up, right?”

You nodded against his chest, relishing in his body heat. “Forgot my shower stuff though,” you remembered with a frown.

Your big man chuckled, turning on the rain shower to the perfect temperatures. Not loosening his arms around you, he turned you both so you could tilt your head back and let the water flow over your body. “That is okay, love,” he said, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on your back, “You can use mine.”

The thought of smelling like him made you smile and, feeling a little more like yourself, stood up on your toes to kiss him.

Paz did not wait for a second to reciprocate but you noticed he held back.

“What is it, Paz?” you asked him, running your hand over his wet hair and wondering if he would ever consider leaving it as curly as it was, “Did you not like it?”

He shook his head with a smile. “It was more than I could ever dream of, love,” he smiled, “I was just thinking …”

You tilted your head, watching him consider his words.

“I meant it when I said I want you to accompany me on my travels.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “So you can fuck me everywhere you want?” you joked, trying to hide the very real fear that his feelings did not run as deep as yours did. Sure, you had started your arrangement on quite superficial terms but it had been a long time since anything you felt for him had been superficial.

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean, yes, that too, but … I missed you, sweetheart, a lot and I don’t think I want to spend my time away from you when there is a way that we could be together.”

“I mean we also spend a lot of time together when you are home,” you argued, drumming your fingertips on his chest, “I thought maybe you would like to have some alone time once in a while?”  

“About that …” he rubbed the back of his neck and seeing him made you realize something very fundamental.

You could not contain your smile, leaning a tiny bit back from him to really take in all of him. The way he avoided your gaze, how he shifted on his feet as if he was nervous, how he.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“You can keep your city apartment, of course,” he assured you immediately, “I was just thinking, I mean … I have this big place and Briggs keeps pointing out it is due for some redecorating and I …” he interrupted himself, drops of water falling from the tip of his nose and lashes, “When I am with you and Snowball I feel more at home than anywhere else in the world. And I am wondering if you feel the same way?”

Of course, I feel the same way, you wanted to scream at him, I have been in love with you ever since you asked me to take care of Snowball.

But you remained silent on that front, not wanting to scare him away. Instead, you reached up to pull him closer. His nose brushed yours and the tiny frown between his brows betrayed his insecurity. How rare it was to see Paz Vizsla insecure.

“Yes, Paz,” you smiled against him, kissing him slow and thoroughly, “I would very much like to move in with you.”

The look of complete happiness on his face, when you pulled away, was only echoed on yours. You were sure your grin could only ever be rivalled by his and you squealed when he pulled you up and spun you around, water flying everywhere.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he set you down. His hand found its way to the side of your neck, his thumb and finger spanning your jaw. He did not let you go and his grin faded, replaced by a look on his face you could not quite pinpoint except for how warm it made you feel, “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“I might have an idea,” you replied shyly, feeling your heart beat against your chest. Was this the moment you could tell him? Was this where you confessed your undying love and revealed just how much you would do to see him happy? How you wanted to wake up with him every morning and fall asleep with him every evening and spend your weekends with him and Snowball curled up on the couch?

But when Paz rested his forehead against yours, you convinced yourself that the moment had passed. Sure, he wanted to move in with you but did that really mean anything? Maybe he just wanted to put another layer of security on your fake relationship arrangement?

“So …” you murmured instead, “How are we going to tell Snowball she is going to move again?”

[sparrowsage]

Revenge, Part One: Ghosts of the Past

Hello! I know I haven't posted in while. I've had some major stuff pop up in my personal life, but things are on the mend! This is the first part in a mini series that takes place six months after the end of Warehouse. It's very far out in the timeline for the Warehouse series, but my brain wanted to write this, so here it is! I'd like to give a special thanks to @oddsconvert and @darkthingshappen for the mention of their oc's Henley Allen from A Taste of Your Own Medicine and Agent Vaughn from Brothers Keeper. And I'd also like to thank them as well as @whumpcereal and @flowersarefreetherapy for their support as I wrote this! I got the inspiration and motivation for this piece from day four of the Merry Whump of May event as well and it was a ton of fun!

TW: Vague mentions of past captivity, vague mentions and implied past noncon, kidnapping, noncon drugging, mentions of past character death, threatened murder (if I missed any, let me know and I'll add them!)

MWoM Prompt: Day 4 “Forgettable, ‘Who are you?’ Lamp, Alleyway” 

If Sparrow would have been asked when he was teen where he thought he’d be when he was an adult, his response wouldn’t be what you’d expect. As far as he knew, he was going to be in the Warehouse facility for the rest of his life, or with some random person who had bought him if he ever got to the point of being sold. Not once did he ever think that he’d be living with a close and trusted friend, free to make his own decisions, able to finally carve out a life for himself of his own free will. 

It had been six months since the Warehouse had gotten raided. Six months since Damon had tried to escape the facility with him in tow. Six months since he was reunited with his friends and finally free from the hell he never thought he’d be away from. 

Sparrow snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his friend giggle, looking over to him as Felix spun around in a small circle, arms outstretched. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to go and see a live show like that!” he exclaimed. “Thank you for coming with me.” 

Sparrow gave his friend a soft smile, putting his hands in his pockets as they walked back to their apartment building. “Thanks for offering to take me. I’ve never seen something like that! I’m surprised they have all those lines and stuff memorized, it looked like a lot!” 

Felix nodded, looking up at the clear night sky above them for a moment before looking back at his friend. “It’s their job, and it does take a lot of work, but it’s totally worth it. I’ve often had thoughts of trying to get into theater like that, but I think my stage fright would get in the way of it all.” 

Sparrow chuckled, giving Felix a light nudge as they continued on their way, “With how often I hear you singing in the apartment, I know you’d do great!” 

Sparrow let out a sigh, recalling the memories. It had been a whirlwind to try and get things back on track once he was released from the hospital this time. He still had weekly therapy appointments with Alex, but it had been more difficult to fall back into old routine with Felix this time around. There had been a short period of time where there were awkward conversations when the two interacted, both from Felix’s guilt over the invitation Damon had sent out and Sparrow not showing Felix the invite before he left amongst other things. Over time, they had talked things out and their friendship only got stronger from there. Henley still came by frequently as well, often spending a lot of time with Sparrow when he was free, which Sparrow appreciated. The two of them would help teach Sparrow how to read and write alongside teaching him about other things while also having some fun. 

At the thought of Henley, Sparrow took his hand out of his jacket pocket, looking at the digital watch Henley had given him a few months back. 

“Hey, it’s already 10:43. Do you think Henley would mind much if we moved movie night to tomorrow?” he asked. 

Felix looked at his own watch in return before looking at Sparrow, “I don’t think he’d mind. We did warn him the show may run late and he seemed fine with the possibility of postponing movie night. We’ll text him when we get home.” 

Sparrow hummed in agreement, putting his hand back in his pocket as they continued home, looking around the street as they walked. Due to how late it was, there weren’t any people out and about, the only lights coming from the lamp posts lining the sidewalks and the light up signs in the shop windows, long since closed for the day. 

Being outside at night was something that Sparrow had never realized he’d appreciate so much. Sure, there was anxiety lurking in the shadows, often keeping the man on edge, but nights like this where he could look up at the clear sky and see the glittering stars and enjoy the light breeze and inhale the nightly air, it felt freeing. 

As the two passed by a dark alleyway, some rustling caught Sparrow’s attention. He paused his steps, Felix looking back at him a few seconds later when he realized his friend wasn’t beside him. “Sparrow, you alright?” 

Sparrow stared into the dark alleyway, trying to see what was hidden in the shadows before shaking his head slightly to clear it. “Y-yeah, just thought I heard something is all.” 

Just as he was about to continue walking, a voice called out to them, “P-please help me.” 

The two hesitated, giving each other a look before Felix hesitantly approached the entryway to the alley. “Are you alright sir?” Felix asked. 

“Do either of you have some spare cash, or some change?” the voice asked, his voice sounding rough and raspy. 

Felix squinted as he hovered at the edge of the alleyway, trying to make out whoever was talking to them. “I-I’m sorry, but we don’t have any cash on us.” 

“That’s quite alright,” the voice responded. There was something about the voice that seemed off to Sparrow, but he couldn’t place it. There couldn’t be a way for Sparrow to know that voice, but the fact that it sounded familiar ate away at him the more the stranger spoke. 

“Felix, we should be getting back home,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. He didn’t want to scare Felix just because he felt uneasy. It was probably nothing. 

“Could you just help me up, sir? Before you leave? I have a bad knee.” 

Felix looked back at Sparrow for a moment before he stepped into the alleyway, the shadows swallowing him, “U-uhm, yeah sure.” 

From Sparrow’s spot on the street, he kept an eye on the dark alleyway, expecting Felix to come out seconds later, but all he heard was rustling before a muffled shout came from the shadows. 

“Felix?” Sparrow asked, taking a step towards the alley, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. 

Something was wrong. 

Sparrow heard some more rustling and a bit of muffled cries before he spotted a figure in the shadows of the alleyway. 

“You should teach your friend to be more careful. Helping the wrong stranger is going to get him into trouble,” the figure said. 

“Who are you and what do you want?” Sparrow asked, his body frozen in place on the sidewalk. 

The figure started walking forward towards him, an unmistakable limp to his step that made the blood in Sparrow’s face run cold, further cementing him to the sidewalk. 

This can’t be him, Sparrow thought. He didn’t remember Agent Vaughn telling him about some Keeper’s getting free from the raid. He thought that since his name didn’t get brought up in the court case or the fact that he didn’t see him in court meant that he died during the raid. 

“I bet you’re surprised, aren’t you?” the man asked, the light from the lamp posts illuminating his face as he stepped out of the alleyway. “Because who would have thought that you’d be seeing me, of all people, again after so much time.” 

“What do you want with us, Logan?” Sparrow asked again, his voice low but lined with fear. 

“You’re in no place to be demanding answers here, Sparrow. You should know that. Has living outside the facility for six months really put you back so much on your training?” 

Sparrow’s hands balled into fists at his side as he tried to figure out an answer. Logan took the hesitation of an answer to motion whoever was behind him in the alleyway to step forward, causing Sparrow’s breath to hitch. 

Five more people stepped out of the alleyway, one of which had Felix flush against his chest, a hand clamped over his mouth while the other held his wrists behind his back. Felix looked at Sparrow with a scared expression, his whole body trembling as his eyes started to water. 

“It’s been hard, these last six months, you know,” Logan started, slowly walking towards Sparrow. “Having to hide from the police all because the facility got shut down. They’d arrest us on sight if anyone found us. But you know what kept us going?” 

Sparrow let out a low and quiet growl as Logan got close to him, taking a small step back as Logan leaned in close. “Finding a way to get back at the person who ruined the entire operation.” 

“Felix wasn’t the one who took down the Warehouse, the FBI did,” Sparrow said, his gaze flickering between Logan and Felix. “You have no business with him.” 

Logan straightened himself as he faked a look of thought. “You’re right, it wasn’t the runt who got the Warehouse shut down, not in full. But he played a part in it.” 

“Vaughn was the one who found the place, not Felix.” 

“Yeah, that fucking agent found the place, but you know who went crying to the FBI when you didn’t return home that night you went to that party? Him. And why did he go to the FBI? Because you managed to escape and make friends, connections, something of which you had no right doing. He cared about you so much that he did everything he could to find you and get you back safely. If you hadn't defied orders and escaped the facility ten months ago, then we wouldn’t be here now.” 

This wasn’t good, Sparrow didn’t know what to do! If it were just him facing off against these guys, he’d fight back, but with Felix trapped, Sparrow couldn’t risk his friend getting hurt all because of his actions. 

“Just let him go, Logan,” Sparrow tried, a hint of desperation leaking into his voice. “You have issue with me, not him. Let him go and we can work this out.” 

At that, Logan let out a laugh, as did the other men standing around them, causing Felix to squeak in fear at the sound. “You think it’s that easy, pleading with me to let your friend go? And that I’m here for you? I often forget that you’re not that fucking smart when it comes to how the real world works. We came here for him and you just so happened to be with him. We’ve had our eyes set on this runt for months, we just needed the perfect moment to grab him, and what better night than tonight!” 

Sparrow glared at Logan as he spoke, trying to work out a way to get them both out of here safely, but anything he thought of wouldn’t work. In every idea he thought of, Felix would get hurt and Sparrow couldn’t let that happen. 

Logan looked around the empty street for a moment, turning on the spot to look back at his men and Felix, who stared back at Logan in fear. “Get him ready to transport, we’ve spent enough time here.” 

At the word ‘transport’, Sparrow started towards the men around Felix, anger and fear powering his limbs. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” he shouted, lunging for the closest man that was around his friend. 

Before he could get very far, three of the remaining four men pounced on Sparrow, quickly grabbing onto him as the fourth man grabbed a prepped syringe from his pocket. Felix started squirming the moment Sparrow was grabbed, just about missing the needle headed straight for his arm. He let out a loud but muffled yelp as the needle was jabbed into his arm, causing Sparrow to struggle even harder, but it was no use. The three men holding onto him were too strong and he was very outmatched. 

Amongst his struggles, Sparrow watched as Felix started to grow limp, his eyes slipping shut as the drug he was injected with took hold of him, forcing him into an unwanted sleep. Once he was under, Logan turned his full attention to Sparrow, who only continued to struggle. 

The former Keeper nodded to his men and they forced Sparrow to his knees on the ground. Sparrow let out a hiss as the gravel and pavement dug into his knees as he tried to pull his arms out of the grips that held them, but he slowed his attempts as Logan stepped closer to him, leaning down at the waist slightly. 

“I swear to god, Logan, I’m going to fucking kill you if you hurt him,” Sparrow growled as he glared at the former Keeper. 

Logan chuckled at the sight of the former pet, letting out a short sigh. “Your threats don’t work on me. Over the twenty years I worked to train you, you’ve only come close once, and that’s because I let my guard down. I’m not making any mistakes this time. You’re going to watch as I destroy your friend, bit by fucking bit, til there’s nothing left of him, and you’re going to help me do it.” 

Sparrow tried to jerk one of his arms free, his gaze never breaking from Logan as he let out a grunt at the wasted effort. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’d willingly hurt him.” 

“Ah, well you see, I know you. You’d do anything to trade places with him, no matter the cost, and I think that seeing you get tortured in more ways than one will do just as much damage to him as if he were the one being hurt.” 

Sparrow stilled as the words registered, his expression falling for a moment. Logan was right, he’d do anything to make sure Felix didn’t bare the front of what they were about to endure, even if it meant sacrificing himself. 

“You’ve been told, time and time again by multiple people that you’re not supposed to form connections or to make friends because it isn’t your place to have feelings. Your job is to serve and please whoever owns you, doing whatever they ask of you with no hesitation. I am excited, if I’m to be honest, Sparrow. You know why that is?” 

“Why?” Sparrow asked through gritted teeth. 

“Because I get to hit you where it hurts. Just because we were going after him doesn’t mean that I won’t be paying special attention to you. You’ve caused me so much trouble ever since you were brought into the facility, especially after Damon took on your case. Now it’s my turn to level the playing field. You remember how you used to protect Jayden when he was alive? How compliant you got all because of a simple threat to his well being?” 

Logan stood then, nodding to one of the men holding Sparrow. “Well, you know that I won’t hesitate to kill your friend here if you step a toe out of line. I highly doubt that you want another one of your friends to die all because of you.” 

The mention of Jayden made the blood drain from Sparrow’s face as a new fire blazed inside of him. This wouldn’t be a repeat of what happened with Jayden, Sparrow couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let another one of his friends die by the hands of this fucking bastard. 

Just as Sparrow was about to start struggling again, he felt the pinch of a needle in his neck and a coolness spread throughout his body. As his vision started to tunnel, he looked up to see Logan start limping back into the alleyway as he started to lose feeling in his limbs.

“Let’s get these guys into the van, and don’t forget to restrain them. The runt will be out for a while, but with this shit’s tolerance, I don’t know when he’ll wake and it’ll be easier to handle him if he can’t move.” 

The last thing Sparrow remembered seeing was a set of headlights turn on far back into the alleyway and hearing an engine roar to life as the drugs dragged him under. 

Taglist: @mannerofwhump, @honey-is-mesi, @painful-pooch, @whumperfully, @hiding-in-the-shadows

@flowersarefreetherapy, @goronska, @blueyellow8green (If you want to be added, let me know!)

[saltnsugarbear]

100 followers banquet!

hi hi hello!!

after some thought I've decided I wanted to do a mini celebration!

I'm not going to be doing a prompt specific celebration just because I personally find prompts difficult to work with so here's the guidelines!

- if you give me a general idea, I can write a blurb!

- please be patient! I work full time closing shifts so I just ask that you please please be patient with me

- take a look at my rules and boundaries and lists I have for who I'm willing to write for!

- Do I have anything else? I don't think I have anything else?

- This'll be running from tomorrow (the 18th) all the way to the 28th!

- I'm also just willing to talk headcanons, chat, talk about bad blood! carmy, boxer! lip or brand new au I'm working on, cam boy! lip

- but this is all for fun I'm so excited to keep rolling with you guys <3

I just want to prattle off some thank yous to a bunch of people:

first to my beloved maggie, the first person I ever sent anything to in their askbox in all of my time as a fic reader. gave me so much courage you are so beloved by me, if maggie has no fans I'm dead <3

to olive! just,,, my actual day one. the person I would send my most depraved thoughts to, who inspired me to make my blog, and just has been so delightful. I'm so grateful to my olive for chatting with me for just so many months on anon! she continues to inspire me, and I'm so glad I put so many asks in her inbox she's so beloved by me (she won't let me retire, please I haven't seen my wife and kids in two weeks /j)

to my moon!!! I feel like they are my other day one I love my moon she's so beloved by me. I feel the need to say thank you to them because I remember seeing them when I first started posting fics, and they continue to be one of my biggest supporters! moon, you are so loved by me, I love talking with you. You're my absolute beloved <3

and all my bearblr mutuals! I don't get to interact and chat with you guys as much as I'd like, but I love every one of you!! I've bounced around so many of your blogs and you're all so beloved by me! I have so much love for my bearblr mutuals and writers <3 you guys just continue to inspire me so much

and I just want to say thank you to just,,,,, everyone who has ever liked or reblogged or anything on one of my fics even if that's the only post they've ever seen of mine. it just all means so much to me. I can truthfully say I was very uncertain about starting this blog and what it would mean and how it would do but I think it will prove to be one of the greatest things I've ever decided to do?

bearblr continues to just be so kind to me. You're all so beloved by me <3

I'm so glad I made the choice to start posting on here I'm just

head in hands /pos

I'm in such a positive spot right now, which is so awesome, and I feel so loved by my bearblr mutuals and friends and,,

just feel very good and I'm going to start crying cause I'm a bit emotional all week already so

thank you guys <3

[depressedhouseplant]

Just Fucking Write - Day 110

Prompt: First kiss

A/N: You can thank @m-is-mickey for the ship. I didn’t Google the current legal age in SK, but we’re going with 18 since they switched to international age. Also nothing beyond kissing happens & it took them over 1000 words to even do that. I just work here.

The workshop was huge. Every company sent their best dancers to the event. Juyeon scanned the room to see if anyone he knew was there, but Sunwoo and Changmin had already spotted Yeonjun and Kai. He trailed behind as they sat down with them and began stretching and talking. Suddenly Kai gave a sharp whistle and waved, getting the attention of the three boys who just walked in. They walked over to their group looking more than a little nervous.

“These are our juniors, Jay, Sunghoon, and Niki,” Yeonjun introduced. “And these are Juyeon, Hyunjae, Changmin, and Sunwoo. Of course you know how fond I am of hierarchy.”

“Oh we know,” Changmin rolled his eyes.

“Hi,” the younger boys greeted, not looking any more comfortable.

“Sit, we don’t bite,” Hyunjae waved them down.

“Changmin does,” Sunwoo pointed out.

“That was one time and I was drunk!” he glared.

“You’ve bitten me at least twice,” Sunwoo replied.

“You wanted it,” Changmin snarked.

“Okay enough about your sex life,” Yeonjun leaned over and smacked their respective legs.

“Ignore them,” Juyeon said. He patted the spot next to him. “Sit.”

The youngest, Niki, sat next to him. Though it was hard to tell how old he was as he was easily over 6 feet tall.

“Hi,” Niki gave him an awkward nod when he sat.

“Hi,” Juyeon smiled, trying to look reassuring. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never been to anything this big either.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Nope,” Juyeon shook his head.

“They just told us it was something for the dancers run by some famous person I’ve never heard of,” Niki replied.

Then a staff member approached their group.

“Which one of you are the main dancers?” she asked. Juyeon, Changmin, and Niki raised their hands. Yeonjun and Kai did an exaggerated game of rock, paper, scissors which Kai won. He smugly raised his hand.

“You’ll be going to studio A down the hall. The rest of you will stay here,” she said.

“Stick with me. It’ll be fine,” Juyeon stood up and offered his hand. Niki took it and got up.

“Thanks,” he smiled a little for the first time.

At the end of the day, both groups met back in the gym for notes. Niki was in Juyeon’s lap periodically dozing off. Juyeon’s hands were resting on Niki’s belly. Under his shirt. He’d nudge Niki with his chin when Niki’s head drooped far enough. The younger boy would jerk back awake then settle back to his half sleeping state. Juyeon didn’t miss the looks the rest of the group was giving him.

“What?” he mouthed when Yeonjun gave him a particularly suggestive look.

“Nothing,” he mouthed back.

“Thank you for coming and we look forward to seeing all of you tomorrow for day two!” the director announced. Most of the room stood up either to go outside or check their phones to see if their rides were here. Their group stayed sitting if nothing else to watch Niki half asleep on Juyeon.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Hyunjae teased.

“Me or him?” Juyeon hissed.

“Both of you,” Yeonjun chimed in.

“It’s been a long day,” Juyeon replied.

“Uh huh, sure,” Changmin wiggled his eyebrows. Yeonjun’s phone dinged and he looked at Jay and Sunghoon.

“Ride’s here,” he said. Sunghoon leaned over and shook Niki’s leg.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Time to go,” Sunghoon said.

“Okay,” he yawned, grudgingly rolling out of Juyeon’s lap.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’ll be here,” Juyeon confirmed. Niki smiled as he left with the other group.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Hyunjae said in a sing-song tone.

“I do not! I’m almost 8 years older than he is,” Juyeon insisted.

“So? He’s legal, isn’t he?” Changmin said. All of their phones went off signaling their ride was there.

“I was just being nice. He needed it,” Juyeon insisted. The others remained unconvinced.

After he finished showering that night, Juyeon saw he had a message from Yeonjun. It was a phone number.

Niki’s digits. Ur welcome.

Juyeon: Who TF says ‘digits’?

Yeonjun: Ungrateful. He’s been talking our ears off about you. Please make it stop

Juyeon: And how do you suggest I do that?

Yeonjun: Kiss him? I feel suggesting anything further in writing would be crass

Juyeon: Good night

Juyeon looked at the number. Hopefully Niki had given Yeonjun permission to pass on his number. Before he could lose his nerve, Juyeon sent him a text.

Great job today. Sleep well. See you tomorrow

Niki almost squealed in excitement when he saw the message. He couldn’t believe Juyeon had actually texted him.

The next day the groups stayed the same with the main dancers in the smaller studio. By lunch they were sweaty and exhausted. They were split into small groups for the afternoon showcase and Niki and Juyeon were in the same group. Niki caught Juyeon when they broke for lunch.

“Can I ask you something?” he ventured.

“Sure, but you’re doing great,” Juyeon replied, wiping his face on his shirt and showing off his abs.

“It’s not about dance. It’s about something else,” Niki replied.

“Oh?” Juyeon gave him a look.

“Will you kiss me?” Niki blurted out.

“Will I what?” Juyeon repeated.

“Kiss me like on the lips,” the younger boy said.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m almost 8 years older than you,” Juyeon replied.

“I’m not asking you to sleep with me. I’m just asking you to kiss me,” Niki sat back on his heels.

“I know, I just, I feel like I’m taking advantage of you or something,” Juyeon raked his hand through his hair.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve initiated everything up to this point,” Niki replied. “Also I debuted through a survival show when I was 14. I might be inexperienced, but I’m not naive.”

“What if I kiss you and it’s terrible?” Juyeon asked.

“What if you kiss me and it’s not? I’ve already had your hands up my shirt once,” Niki leaned forward. Juyeon blushed.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine?” Niki repeated.

“I’ll kiss you,” Juyeon said.

“Right here?” Niki asked. The studio was empty, but anyone could walk in at any moment. If they got caught, it would be the scandal of the century. Juyeon spotted a screen in the corner. They could fit behind there.

“There,” Juyeon nodded. Niki got up and went behind it. Juyeon tried not to laugh at how fast the younger boy moved. Juyeon barely situated himself behind the screen before Niki pressed his lips against Juyeon’s.

It was every bit the awkward first kiss. Juyeon moved Niki’s arms around his waist and rested his arms on Niki’s shoulders. Niki responded by pulling Juyeon closer to him. Juyeon tilted his head and carefully swiped his tongue over the seam of Niki’s lips. Niki opened his mouth a little, letting the tip of Juyeon’s tongue in. Juyeon felt Niki’s fingers graze under his shirt.

“You can touch me,” he briefly pulled back.

“Okay,” Niki panted.

“Breathe. I don’t have to use tongue if you don’t like it,” Juyeon told him.

“No, it’s just, a little weird having someone else’s tongue in your mouth,” Niki replied.

“Fair enough,” Juyeon smiled a little, their lips still touching. “Keep going?”

“Please?” Niki asked. “And can you touch me?”

“I can,” Juyeon agreed. He slowly grazed his hands down Niki’s torso and under his shirt. Niki leaned down to kiss him again. This time was less awkward, their lips moving against each other while their hands explored the other one’s body.

“If we keep this up, I might ask you to sleep with me,” Niki gasped.

“Then maybe we should stop,” Juyeon rested their foreheads together. If he was being honest, he was starting to get a little hard.

“But is it a hard no?” Juyeon felt Niki tense under his hands.

“No, it’s not a hard no, but I don’t want you to rush into anything and regret it later,” Juyeon said.

“So you want to do other stuff first?” Niki asked.

“How about we talk about this more when we’re not about to be walked in on by 40 other people. Fair?” Juyeon suggested.

“Fair,” Niki agreed. Juyeon wasn’t sure exactly what he’d gotten himself into, but apparently he’d agreed to be Niki’s first everything. There were worse positions to be in.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

@ anon - i'll write your prompt tomorrow, i really do need sleep now

also I don't really write sexy stuff... but i'll see what i can do!

also also @ the other people who sent me prompts the past few days - the ones i have left aren't very happy so i'm putting those on hold for now. I'll get to them eventually, i promise.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 4.30.2024

I'm tired!!

That's not related to anything, I just wanted to get that out there: I'm do not have a lot of energy right now.

I am taking requests right now, and I thought it would be good to post an update on how that's going, because I'm worried that people will think I am not working on them, but I am very much working on them. I think that's because a lot of times in the past, when I do requests, it's been for a specific event, like Renji's birthday, where I have a deadline and a lot of pressure to get things done. In this case, it's just that I have a list of prompts in my inbox to work on, where at least someone will be happy to read it when I post (hopefully 😂) I have posted one already, and I am at work on the second. It's about 1200 words right now, and I'd say it's 1/3-1/2 done. It's going kinda slow. That's not to say it's going bad--I have good direction on it and I've been making progress on it, it's just not, like, flowing from my fingertips. It's a set of characters I don't usually work with, which is fun for a change, but also it takes me like 9 times longer to write anything that doesn't have Renji in it. The way I figure, if I can do about one of these per week, that should be reasonable.

People are still welcome to send in requests! I will say: - I have gotten lots so far, so please don't feel like you need to send me a pity request, but if there's something you'd like to see from me, hmu, who knows, worst case is I don't write it - Quite a few (like, at least 3???) are things that I already have planned as part of larger works, and I'm not quite sure what to do with that 😂 I guess I'll just say that if you feel like you sent in a really good one and I ignored it, just be patient, it may come up eventually. - Lot of funny/cute type ideas, which is fine and it's like, the main thing I do, but also please don't be afraid to send in something more serious or angsty, I do like to do that kinda stuff, I just don't always have ideas (they never seem to get as many stats, so maybe other people just don't like my serious stuff as much, but let me have fun 😂) - Maybe b/c I turned anon asks back on, I've been getting a fair number of (what seem like) regular asks, rather than fanfic requests, but tbh, sometimes I am not sure, so please try to be clear if you want a fanfic about it, or you just want me to answer your question, otherwise you get what you get.

In art news, I keep meaning to draw and then not drawing!! I need to fix this! May is tomorrow, so there is a new set of art prompts, which I am more excited about than the April art prompts. Also, we watched the Halloween episode last week and my daughter really wants us to draw Pumpkin Ghost Orihimes and I would like that too. I will try to get my shit together! We'll see!

[fezwearingjellybananas]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @starstruckpurpledragon, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

315

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,163,434

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently predominantly The Flash (TV and Comics), though I have written a couple of The Adventure Zone fics, one Naddpod, and one Ghosts (BBC) this year too, and I've written one or two other things. I've been writing fic for a bit

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Crossed Wires - The Flash (TV), Barry/Eddie (prompt fill for a Misunderstandings prompt in a Barry Week)

2. Mis-sent - The Flash (TV), Barry/Cisco (college AU texting fic)

3. "Just sleep in my damn shirt" - The Flash (TV), Barry/Eddie (a short prompt fill that does not even have a proper title)

4. Milk and Sugar - The Flash (TV), Iris/Caitlin (coffee shop AU that changed to a pre-canon canon divergence that ended up a 12 fic series)

5. Digging Out The Hole - The Flash (TV), Barry/Cisco (an episode 1x16 AU again featuring some fake dating and some Rogues)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I appreciate all of them therefore I like to say thank you

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ashes to Ashes, it's part of the collaborative Marvellous Ladies of DC AU with @agentmarymargaretskitz where the ladies of DCTV get to be all the heroes in a MCU AU and this one is part of the Infinity War one so there is a very large amount of character death

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like writing happy endings so that one's a little tricky, but I think I might nominate Stargazing (DC comics, Barry/Iris/Hal), since the start is not quite so happy

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

I have but it's a rare occurrence

9. Do you write smut?

Nope! On the sliding scale of sex favourable to sex repulsed ace I generally slide between neutral and repulsed and usually fall at forgot sex exists again until I get a question like this. I do sometimes read the smut bits instead of just skipping now, but I have to be in a very particular mood, it's not a common thing, so I don't think I'll ever get closer to writing it than implying some might be going on somewhere

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have, though not for a little while. I might still have (very brief) notes for a Legends of Tomorrow/Librarians crossover somewhere though. Maybe one day

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone ask if they could once but I don't think they ever posted it, and this was quite a while ago

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, the previously mentioned Marvellous Ladies of DC AU.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Barry/Iris probably? That's the one I have been writing to fill the Year of the OTP prompts, and I'm pretty sure these poly ships appear because I like ones like Barry/Cisco and Barry/Hal, but I also Barry and Iris together, so now they all get to be a part of this

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Wally Fic, my Flash TV s2 AU where Wally becomes the Flash (because Barry did not survive his first encounter with Zoom). Perhaps one day, but it's been just sitting as part of a first draft for a long time now not getting very far. I might just cut it into scenes and post what I have when I have an end I'm happy with but I've also been saying that for a while and still not doing anything so who knows.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I don't know if I really think about strengths, this is just for fun, but I often feel I write more dialogue than descriptions, so maybe dialogue?

I've also had a few people tell me I'm good at writing AUs which I am very flattered by and very happy they like them. I just enjoy myself messing around with how things could go if I change that bit of canon or sometimes trying to see if I can make a plot work in another genre instead, but it's very nice when people say they like my messing around and encourage me to do it more.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Describing body language. Especially during conversations, like a pinched nose or stuff like that, I'm often not sure how to phrase the motion and don't know if I put enough in.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Mixed. On the one hand, it can throw you out if suddenly there is a large passage in another language you're meant to still be able to understand as easily as the first bit, so I think if it were a full conversation I would still write in English and use the dialogue tags to indicate it's another language.

However if the point of view character has, say, my Spanish levels where I can pick out words and get the gist of some bits but not necessarily understand everything I might write that part as Spanish with the missing words and have the translation as the point of view character trying to work out what they just said.

I have also written characters swearing in French (as a "pardon my French" joke. The opportunity for a bad joke will trump everything else always). I hated my French teacher at school and dropped it for Spanish as soon as I could and I'm really, really bad at French, but I do know Merde.

People who have managed to become fluent in multiple languages are so cool. I don't know how you all did this.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was a very short Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover where Sherlock and John get zapped by Weeping Angels and end up at Victorian Edinburgh University meeting someone named Arthur. I panicked about posting that so much

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

This is an impossible question always, but since I haven't got a gen fic mentioned here yet I really enjoyed writing The Questing Flower (Flash TV), which is a fantasy AU centred around Iris West. She's on a Quest to save the Moon (and maybe her best friend along the way) and no one's managed to do this in the past 500 years they've been trying, but Iris is going to try anyway.

There's so many fics I've really enjoyed writing though, I don't think I have an all time favourite. Ghosting (Flash TV, Cisco/Hartley) usually gets an honourable mention at least though.

Tagging @agentmarymargaretskitz @squireofgeekdom @alittleflashvibe and @spectralarchers and anyone else if you fancy it?

[ciaossu-imagines]

If you're feeling it, Day 5 prompts but for your favorite personal OC/self-insert? :)

Okay, but please excuse me everyone for taking a break from the actual writing I’m trying to do to answer this (the ideas are so there, but it’s tweaking them into proper words)! I promise I will have fic/requests being posted soon (hopefully quite a bit put up tomorrow and Wednesday– just as a head’s up, I’m not going to be on the blog at all Thursday and Friday because I have some real life stuff that needs to be taken care of, but will be back hopefully on Saturday to resume my regular writing and answering messages and PLEASE KEEP SENDING IN ALL THE REQUESTS because they are the best part of my day and I get so excited with each new one sent in and there is no such thing as spamming me with asks or asking too much). But like, I never actually spend too much time talking about my own OC’s or the writing I do just for me because this blog is focused more on ya’ll, and I love that, but it’s also kind of exciting to dive into this topic. I didn’t quite use a prompt and just fucking rambled and hope that’s still okay! Because this will be a hella long post, I’m going to use a read more, especially since this definitely will not interest everyone! For those who do read it…I’m kind of curious on who will pick up on what and who will pop in to my ask box or messages or replies to lovingly call me out!! I look forward to it, actually!

Okay, so I’m going to set the stage here because this is a little convoluted and complicated because the one I imagine the most, the one I drabble for the most and daydream about and have the most fun with is an absolutely gigantic crossover/AU!

There’s a land called The Ever Young, where all the characters from all my fandoms reside. The Ever Young is broken, stuck with time permanently stopped and nobody new can be born and death has no hold. It’s separated into different warring factions between and within the different claimed lands or regions, with each fandom kind of being its own region. Every region blames the others for the magic on the land and each believes that, by winning control and eradicating or subjugating the others, they can force time to restart. Also, with it being an obviously magical world, there are different fantasy species, and everyone has some sort of magical ability, though, with the world the way it is, the abilities don’t work right. There are kickbacks to using them…they cost you your life-force, your ‘youness’ and when you use up all the power you have, you’re gone. Your body remains, but it’s for all extents and purposes just a shell and nobody knows quite what happens to the people’s minds and souls.

There’s a Record-Keeper for each land, one canon character from each fandom, who not only keeps the record of the life of these different regions but have some precognitive abilities that they can use to try to forewarn their own regions of coming events. They’re identified by the pocket-watches they all woke up one day with. Each pocket watch has a crystal heart in it that gives the holder their abilities and all the Record-Keepers do occasionally meet up and are the only true neutral parties in The Ever Young.

On top of all this going on…there’s a legend, a story that by now everyone is convinced is just a fairy tale for children, of The Thirteen. The legend states that The Ever Young was first created by a witch of great power who could create something from nothing, who could bring life and prosperity as well as death and darkness, all in perfect harmony. And at one point, The Ever Young flourished and all was peaceful and idyllic. But then sorrow came…it’s said that something caused the Witch such great sorrow that her heart literally broke, shattered into thirteen shards that flew far and wide across the land she’d cherished so deeply and that she retreated far from the world, never to be seen again. To get back to the days of peace and happiness, these shards must be found by those to whom they call, The Thirteen Heroes who have the power to set the universe right again and heal the Witch’s heart and mind. Only then, the legend says, will time start to flow, and life begin to start anew.

So, obviously, aside from the wide, wide variety of canon characters, it’s obvious my OC’s, not all of whom I have, are the Thirteen, plus one oddball so I’ll start going into them now that the scene is all set.

First up, there’s Tea! Branded ‘The Shadow Warrior’, beautiful and fierce, this woman has a fearsome reputation. Often seen with The Kokuyo Gang, her name is whispered along. Powerful, strong, but also just and kind, Tea is also fair, never hurting those who don’t deserve it or who leave her no choice. She’s someone you want at your back; a trustworthy companion and just as fierce in friendship and love as she is on the battlefield. Her natural ability is that of being able to transform herself into a shadow, able to remain unseen and seemingly disappear and reappear at will. However, she also finds the seventh shard, resembling a smooth piece of turquoise glass in the shape of a serpent that she wears as an amulet. This shard not only makes her one of the legendary Thirteen, but gives her an additional ability, where she can control others through the force of her voice, at the cost of losing her voice for a full sunset afterward. My personal face-claim for her is Teresa from Claymore, if anyone is curious.

Next up is Mari! Most often seen beside the Cavallone family’s boss, she comes across as alluring, mysterious and quiet, but this woman is incredibly sweet, kind and has a huge heart. She wants nothing more than a quiet life, with those she loves safe and sound, but with war raging around her, it’s not quite that easy. But she works for it, quietly slipping through the different regions, playing diplomat and trying to foster peace wherever she can. Once you know her, she has this incredibly fun, playful side and her smile disarms all but the most hard-hearted. Her natural powers help her in her diplomatic missions, as she has the ability to judge others true natures and desires correctly. However, she also finds the sixth shard, a smooth piece of green glass in the shape of a heart, which she fashioned into a hair barrette that she wears, which gives her the power to manipulate the emotions of those around her, at the cost of leaving her feeling hollow, lazy, and pessimistic until the next sunrise. My personal faceclaim for her, if anyone is wondering, is Chiyuki from Death Parade!

Next up is Marta! A dreamer, she sees all the potential in what the world could be. Sweet, kind, and encouraging, with eyes you get lost in and a face as expressive as her boss's is neutral, she’s fiercely loyal to those she loves and cares about and the sort of friend that keeps everyone happy and together. With her tireless creativity and curiousity, she seeks to create a better world and works alongside Hibari’s group to explore all the secrets of The Ever Young, slipping quietly in and out of the various regions, accompanied either by Hibari himself or Kusakabe, trying to find ways to leave the world a better place for her family and friends. Though she prefers not to be in the midst of battle, she’s more than able to hold her own, with the help of her magical paints and paintbrush, which she can use to imbue life into anything she paints temporarily – at least long enough to allow her or others to escape risky situations. The holder of the ninth shard, a violet piece of glass in the shape of a bird, which she wears as a brooch, she also has the ability to heal others, at the cost of having to feel all the pain of the injuries herself. For those curious, the face claim I have for her is Michiko Malandro.

Up next is Dell! A charming rogue blessed with the gift of shapeshifting, they breeze in and out of the regions, trying to prevent out and outright war from breaking out wherever they can, working with god only knows who (and they prefer it that way, thank you very much). Though their silver tongue and fearlessness may leave you with the impression of a trickster or someone only out for themselves, Dell is actually ride or die for those they care about. They take care of those that matter to them and everything they do is to ensure the safety of their loved ones. However, very few are lucky enough to see that soft, sweet side of theirs, often getting either that charisma and fake niceness or the sharp tongue that Dell possesses. Another thing they possess? The second shard, a red piece of smooth glass in the shape of a house, that allows them the ability to manipulate nature itself, at the cost of the use of their limbs until the sun sets next. For those curious, I picture Akito Sohma for Dell!

Then there’s Amber! The very definition of big-titty goblin girlfriend, Amber has a huge personality and, while she can be a (very bitey) handful, she’s friendly and charming and makes friends wherever she goes. Often found with Hiruma, who is holding secrets of his own, Amber is social, sarcastic, and the life of the party. But all that charm and charisma? It’s the sweet front to the spice and steel she hides from most people. With her own moral compass, she’s a force of chaotic good aiming to end the war in The Ever Young, viva revolution style, come hell or high water. A living lie detector, she’s also the holder of the fourth shard, an smooth orange piece of glass that she wears as a pendant, that allows her to make herself absolutely irresistible to anyone she touches, to the point that the person would abandon all reason and do anything to make her happy. However, she can’t just turn it off at will and the person remains obsessive, at times murderously so, until they see the moon.

Next up is Nina! Don’t let the cute face and tiny size fool you…not only is this girl unafraid of a battlefield, but she actually finds them exhilarating! Blessed with super strength, her heart is always in the right place, whether it be squishing a friend in a hug that might make a few bones pop or throwing a tree at someone threatening the piece of her region, she lives honestly and does her best to keep things safe, both for those she loves and all those friends she hasn’t met yet. Disarmingly sweet, sincere, and small, she is another renowned warrior who simply wants to be fighting only for fun, instead of to prevent outright war from disrupting lives. She found the first shard, a smooth piece of black glass in the shape of a square that she wears as a tie clip, which gives her the ability to freeze time temporarily, with the drawback of erasing her memories of everything that happens during that time. For anyone curious, the face claim in my head for her is Azusa Nakano!

Then there’s Brooklyn! She’s almost always found with the boys of HOMRA, where her water manipulation powers can cool the hotter heads around her. Though quiet and often overshadowed by the louder, brasher personalities around her, she’s friendly, smart, and cute, the quintessential good girl to the bad guy. But when you get to know her, she’s got street smarts and a surprisingly naughty side to her that keeps you guessing. And, though the idea of war terrifies her, because she can’t stand the thought of another of HOMRA’s boys just never coming home again, she is more than capable of defending her found family, with a temper that is slow to ignite but deadly when needed. The holder of the third shard, a smooth piece of light pink glass that literally gives her the powers of Cupid at the result of losing the memories of one of her loved ones, she’s bound and determined to bring about that peace that her family deserves, no matter what. For those interested, I see her face claim as Lenalee Lee!

Moving on to Lou, a reformed pickpocket who now runs an orphanage on the border of the regions between those with the K Project characters and those with the KHR characters. Changeable….literally, given that their natural ability makes them change between male and female from night to day, they’re a bit of a trickster but one with a huge heart and a desire to keep any children from a dark past like the one they had to go through. To protect the children of The Ever Young, they’re more than willing to stand on the battlefield. I’m still kind of getting this OC down, as they’re a relatively new one, but they’re the holder of the fifth shard, a smooth yellow piece of glass that they carry in their pocket and which gives them the ability to make someone psychically live through their worst nightmare, at the cost of them going temporarily blind until the code-word is said…though don’t they wish they knew what that code word was. For those interested, it's the Kagamine twins (Vocaloids) that I picture as face claims!

Then there’s Whisper! A mute, selectively so, who wanders throughout the regions. Rumors say that she can get you anything you want though and her ability to slip through the cracks and remain unnoticed because of her disability means she deals in the all too dangerous area of information brokerage. Always moving under the cover of darkness, Whisper (who looks like Taiga Aisaka to me) manages to stay one step ahead of a past that she’s trying desperately to escape from. She doesn’t care much for the war, or what happens – she’s trying to get through each day and find a safe place to land, which isn’t easy when you’re literally seeing inside people’s minds whenever you touch them. She finds the eighth shard, a smooth indigo piece of glass shaped like a person, which heightens her own psychic abilities to include telekinesis and telepathy, but at the cost of her health deteriorating.

Last and least, the one OC who stands in a class of their own, wandering in and out of everyone’s stories in the background, yet always appearing where she needs to be, when she needs to be. An amnesiac who calls herself simply Mirror, she exists outside the factions, with ties to no one. She fears people a little and is terribly shy and socially awkward, until it comes time to explain the things she knows….and oh, the things she knows. While who she is remains a complete mystery, even to herself, she sees all – all that was, all that is, and all that could be, fragments of multiple possible ever-shifting universes that hold her at their whims and mercies as she frantically tries to stop every worst case scenario from happening.

[ancestorsofjudah]

2 Kings 10: 1-6. "The Discernment."

Jehu, "In God's Name" does the smart thing- after he kills the King and Queen of Evil, he goes after their sons and all the members of the household and roots it all out. If we did this after all that 911 shit with the Republicans and Evangelicals, we would not be living in the bizarre world we live in today.

Does anyone remember what it was like? Dirty bombs, anthrax, tape your windows up, keep water and plenty of crystal meth handy JIC?

What about the Terror Scale?

This was all because of Republican religious shit. And we coasted right past it, thinking something new and wonderful would rise up through the Party and something not so bad would happen, and then the schmucks cheated Donald Trump into the White House and now our governemnt is hip deep in Crimes Against Humanity. Nothing changed did it? Because we didn't root it out.

When I discovered it was Dick Cheney, George Bush and Charles Mary who prompted the 911 attacks against us because of oil revenues and the Mormon obsession with Jews and the Holy Land, the whole thing was supposed to culminate in a land grab that ran across the Middle East right to straight into Israel, and remembered how hard those post 911 years were, I got very, very determined to rid the world of the Republicans. I hope you will agree they are not good for this world, and we will be just fine without them.

This was before I watched the Widows and saw the Family Research Council cheating in the 2016 Election and put my foot in the Republican's little Cock Ring, that's what they called it, their pedophile porn traffic circle.

When I started squealing on them, they tried throwing little boys with, like, two pubic hairs at me and I ran the other way as fast as I could, but many Republicans and their friends did not. And the police were not as agitated about any of this as you might think they should be. As Mitt Romney said on his Netflix documentary, "they'll never stop us, we all do it."

Well, MITT then all of you have to die. The police may not be interested in doing their jobs but do it they must. Human trafficking is a crime, and if you fuchk little kids, who you serve up like a Wendy's to your Republican Friends, it's automatically also a Crime Against Humanity, especially if elected officials and Cabinet Level Officials are involved.

So Joe Biden has his work cut out for him if he is himself, to remain out of trouble with the law as he cannot legally turn his back on his government when state sponsored sexual abuse of minors is involved. This makes the rest of the world wonder "what's next?" And what is next has to be good, and that starts with getting rid of the bad.

Ahab’s Family Killed

10 Now there were in Samaria seventy sons of the house of Ahab. So Jehu wrote letters and sent them to Samaria: to the officials of Jezreel,[a] to the elders and to the guardians of Ahab’s children. He said, 

2 “You have your master’s sons with you and you have chariots and horses, a fortified city and weapons. Now as soon as this letter reaches you, 

3 choose the best and most worthy of your master’s sons and set him on his father’s throne. Then fight for your master’s house.”

4 But they were terrified and said, “If two kings could not resist him, how can we?”

5 So the palace administrator, the city governor, the elders and the guardians sent this message to Jehu: “We are your servants and we will do anything you say. We will not appoint anyone as king; you do whatever you think best.”

6 Then Jehu wrote them a second letter, saying, “If you are on my side and will obey me, take the heads of your master’s sons and come to me in Jezreel by this time tomorrow.”

Jehu writes letters meaning he consults the Torah to determine a course of action against the residual members of the House of Ahab, the fraternity, a political party in ancient Israel that was rife with corruption. He insists one of its survivors take responsibility for the errors in judgement of the entire House, and they refuse. Jehu says "no deal".

Recall in a previous section, all "errors" perpetrated by the State have to be aired in public, they need to be laid bare, the Law must resume sounding its voice and the public has to pay heed. How often have we seen this happen? Not in my lifetime, not until Gaza, where the people of Israel stood their ground on what was clearly an highly orchestrated terrorist attack against them. Still the public, which has become very corrupt did not rally to their sides, even though this is what the Religion says must be done.

It is true we are all in shock over the conditions in Gaza, and they are going to get worse not better. This is because we are morbidly inconsistent about standards for human coexistence and quality of life and it has caught up with the people living in Israel and Gaza. Everyone living on this planet can be hurt and made happiest by the same things.

Because we allow ourselves to think certain persons deserve more of either than the rest life on earth is faltering when there is otherwise no reason it could not be prospering instead. Which will not happen until the Republicans, Vladimir Putin, Tehran, North Korea, Beijing, and most of the governments in Africa are forced to pass the ball to other players This is the course of action the Melachim states the world's competent leaders must pursue.

The Values in Gematria for the above verses are:

v. 1: Israel had Seventy Sons and now it seems Samaria had them also. Seventy has great significance in Judaism; we know who the Seventy sons of the Twelve Tribes of Israel are, but the Seventy Sons of Samaria are not named. Samaria means "the Agents of the Watch" and refer to the religious observances that keep a nation whole and unified through its religious practices.

As we have discovered this goes both ways. Certainly the Republicans and their religious practices have gnarled this planet up and make it sick right down into its gizzards, but there are others we can and should turn to instead.

The Value in Gematria is 11728, יא‎בזח, yabazah, "the brotherhood of God's spoils." There is no need for corruption or lies. There is enough wealth, food, and space to go around. How we choose to view this determines how difficult or scarce things really are.

Certainly pandering to the abortion girls, so illegal, does not readily provide us with the economics or logistics to equitably distribute wealth and resources to those in need, a disturbance in our way of governing we have yet to properly resolve. And the Torah, Gospels, and Quran inisist this is our way of tithing to God what is God's but we don't do it.

v. 2: The Letter is always Tav, the Hebrew Letter that stands for the Table. On top of the Table are all the accoutrements and blessings humanity has made in separate parts and separate places using many different hands but are enjoyed by all, all at once.

The Value in Gematria is 11279, יאבז‎ט, jabzt, ‎"that which discerns."

War is the opposing force of the Table.

v. 3-4: The Value in Gematria is 11137, יאאגז‎, yaagz, "God's strength is found in the Eye of the Fountain."

Two Kings are needed for a confrontation between the Seventy Customs, the Letters, and the rest of the world. One to learn them, one to understand and leglislate their importance. If these two aspects of cognitive reasoning fail, then the Entity has to step in directly, and that is what Jehu, the god of justice did.

v. 5: And then, everyone has to do what has to be done. The Value in Gematria is 15351, י״הג‎א, the tenth, “You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his male servant, or his female servant, or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that is your neighbor's” (Ex. 20:17).

Similarly you shall not deny your neighbor an equal chance to obtain and secure these things as their own private property.

v. 6: A Day Later is an important measurement of time in Judaism, it means all the progress and none of the trouble from the Day Before is present. Ie, on Day 2 we no longer experience the chaos of being a baby trapped in a droopy, shitty, runny diaper anymore because Day 1 is over. The same thing is true with adult life.

The Value in Gematria is 11623, יאו‎‎בג‎‎, yaobg, "to accept God's reproach to consent to God's lesson as a nation, as a people."

This is embodied in the Second Letter, gimel: Gimel. גמל The verb גמל (gamal) means to deal, or recompense in the sense of benefitting from. 

[ionlycareaboutyou]

henlo it is me sending u a prompt!! u can pick either pairing that u mentioned i don't mind but can u do them moving in together for the first time, specifically dealing with all the weird quirks + household habits that you discover when you start sharing a space with someone? what odd things do each of them do + what makes the other person annoyed or enamoured? ty ily 💖

hello thank u! i thought i’d do sethon for this one bc it seemed fitting for them! ily 2! this turned out SOOO sappy so i’m sorry if it gives you a toothache fkdajs

cw for smoking and references to sex

After their wedding, they go to Seth’s place right away, skipping the cast and crew after-party to drink wine in bed and kiss, undressing each other slowly and almost carefully. Their lips are stained and bittersweet, and Seth’s delighted to find that Stefon had worn something pretty under his skinny jeans and Ed Hardy shirt.

“I can’t believe I almost let Anderson have this,” Seth half-jokes, mouth hot over the lacy front of Stefon’s panties.

He giggles. “I knew you’d chase after me.”

“Am I that predictable?” Seth quirks an eyebrow, one hand coming up to squeeze and stroke his husband’s inner thigh.

“Mm...not predictable...stubborn,” Stefon replies, then lifts his hips up a bit. “Now, can we please consummate this marriage, Seth Meyers?”

“Is it considered consummating if we’ve done this before marriage?” Fabric is pushed to the side. A kiss is pressed to a sensitive place. A gasp echoes in the room.

“Well--oh--no, I think that just makes us sinners.” Hands thread in between dark hair that’s streaked with silver.

“Sounds about right,” Seth decides, and shuts up from there on out. 

Afterwards, they’re thoroughly exhausted, but manage to keep their eyes open for a little longer, to clean themselves up and brush their teeth side by side. When he looks up in the mirror, Seth is struck at the tender image of them, and he can perfectly picture a future where this is an everyday occasion. 

They slide into bed, legs entwining and lips pressed to jaws, necks, underneath ears. “I want to ask something,” Seth says, before he can forget it and drift off. 

“Mm, ‘kay.”

“You wanna move in with me?” He lets his hands run up Stefon’s chest and over those broad shoulders that have been a subject of maybe ten different fantasies.

Stefon cracks one eye open. “Like, here?”

“‘Course. Where else? I mean, if it’s too soon--”

He gives a light and airy giggle. “We’re married, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” Seth replies, a finger trailing up his husband’s neck. “But I’m open to whatever you’d like, I don’t know if you’re really attached to that apartment.”

Stefon doesn’t actually live in a garbage can like he joked about once on Update, but it’s barely a step up from one. Seth had picked him up from the place a few times, and Stefon always claimed that he was barely there, it was a place to sleep every other night if nothing else. It’s a tiny studio above a shady drugstore that keeps odd hours and always has flickering lights. The ceilings are low, and Seth isn’t sure how Stefon manages to get around with his long legs without hitting his head constantly. So it’s not really a surprise when he says, “No, not too attached. I like it here better. My lease is up next month anyway.”

“Good.” He gives him a sleepy smile. “I’ll help you move.”

“Perfect,” Stefon says, and nestles his face into Seth’s neck. They’re asleep within minutes.

--

Stefon doesn’t own too many things, but what he does own is extravagant. The closet in Seth’s--their bedroom is suddenly filled with color. The top row of shirts are a mix of patterns and neon and pastel and strange sayings. The bottom row is filled with button ups in neutral colors: greys and blues and light greens, and maybe a plaid patterned one to switch things up. It’s apparent to anyone whose clothes are whose. The living room is decorated with strange and abstract art that Stefon got from friends. Each tiny sculpture or painting or sketch has a story. Russian and French literature in their original languages joins British literature on the bookshelf. Boots with sequins and heels go next to loafers in the coat closet. Intricate and pretty bongs are not very well hidden in the living room. It’s something that requires adjusting, that’s for sure, but Seth loves it. He loves the color that his husband brings to their home, and his life.

There are other things that require adjustment, too, and they’re a bit harder to adjust to than the new things that clutter their place. Seth knew Stefon kept weird hours, but experiencing it firsthand is another thing. He’ll roll over at 3 AM, open bleary eyes, and find the other side of the bed is empty. Stefon is pacing in the living room, feet light and silent, like some sort of cat. Seth always tells him to come back to sleep and Stefon will tilt his head, eyes half lidded as he nods slowly and waves a hand. He’ll slip between the sheets sometime before the crack of dawn. Seth will sometimes ask in the morning why he woke up, and Stefon will shrug and say “I was just thinking”. It’s something that they’ll work up to, Seth reminds himself.

They find differences that they didn’t notice before. Seth wears socks in the house, often mismatched, and often a point of teasing by his husband. “No one sees them except you!” He insists. “They’re no-shows!” Stefon, on the other hand, wears slippers that slide across the tile floor of the kitchen every morning, or just pads around barefoot with his toes always painted a different color. Bark Ruffalo usually trails behind him.

Stefon has an interesting affinity for healthy vegan food despite not being vegan himself. The freezer has dairy free ice cream (that, Seth has to admit, isn’t so bad) in it, and one week Stefon finds himself on a kale salad kick and eats them for dinner nearly every night. Seth can’t understand the appeal, but Stefon is the one who does most of the grocery shopping, so Seth is just quietly amused by the presence of all the green foods in his pantry and fridge. It doesn’t stop them from drinking sweet wine now and then, or buying a small cake just to buy one and kissing the frosting off the corner of each other’s lips.

Seth quit smoking a few years ago, but sometimes he’ll smell smoke from the balcony of their place, and Stefon will be out there, smoking a long and skinny cigarette and looking over the city. “It’s not good for you,” Seth always says, even though they’ve smoked together plenty of times outside of 30 Rock. 

“I know,” Stefon says, one time. “But I can’t stop giving in to peer pressure. Everyone tells me I won’t be cool if I don’t smoke.” His voice is adjacent to a bad Fonz impression.

Seth kisses his lips, not minding the smoky taste at all. “I thought coming out here while you were smoking would make me crave a smoke, but--”

“Oh, I know what you crave, Seth Meyers. I can see it in your eyes.” They kiss some more, until Seth pulls him inside so they don’t get in trouble for balcony-indecency.

Despite their many differences, there’s things in their life that come together with incredible ease. Their shower schedules match up perfectly; Seth in the morning, Stefon in the evening, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing one every now and then. They still brush their teeth side by side in the morning when they’re both up at the same time, smiling around their toothbrushes when they make eye contact. Sometimes Stefon will prefer to languish in bed while Seth gets ready for the day, but he stays awake until Seth leaves so he can give him a goodbye kiss.

Within weeks, they’ve “christened” every room of their place, and found out countless things about each other, and they’ve had moments where they’ve been frustrated and they’ve needed time apart, for just a few hours. But they always come back, they always curl into bed at the end of the day, closely intertwined with their dog at the foot of the bed. Lips will press against lips, jaws, ears, foreheads. It doesn’t feel like the first time every time, rather, it feels better than the first time. There’s new things to discover and fall in love with and laugh about together every day.

[allthefakepeople]

wilmon: “wait you think i’m cute?” for the prompts please 😊

ok ok anon i'm so so sorry this took me a bit to get it out. i was a little busy the last couple days. to make up for it, it's actually pretty long :))

it's definitely an au so i hope that's ok with you and that it's everything you wanted it to be.

(also as i've said before, if you sent me a prompt and i haven't finished it yet, i promise i will get to it. i'll definitely have more time to work on them tomorrow.)

anywayyys... i hope you all like it :)))

-Miels 💜✨

Writing Prompts (yes you can still send me them, i've been loving this) (ps you can send me one even if it’s not on this list! like if there’s something you want to see, let me know and i’ll do my best to deliver)

“wait, you think I’m cute?”

Wilhelm Prince was one of the most infuriating people that Simon had ever met. Tall, with dirty blonde hair and a smile that manages to trick everyone into thinking he’s an innocent guy. Simon is sick of it. He feels like he’s the only one who can see Wilhelm for who he really is. From the first moment Simon met the guy he knew that he was putting up a façade. It also didn’t help that every time Simon said anything in class Wilhelm would find a way to disagree with it. The worst part about it is they were good points. And what made Simon the most frustrated about it, is he’s pretty sure Wilhelm didn’t even agree with his own points. He’s almost positive that Wilhelm actually agrees with him because he’s overheard Wilhelm in groups making points that Simon himself would make. Which means, Wilhelm is disagreeing with Simon in front of people just to disagree with him. He is also entirely unaffected by Simon’s obvious displeasure with him. Simon hates that Wilhelm can tell that he can get to him. He almost looked like he was enjoying the challenge of going head-to-head with Simon. Simon didn’t understand it nor did he like it. Wilhelm always looks at Simon with this attentive expression as if he’s seriously interested in whatever he’s saying and has this look in his eye like he wants to tear back all of Simon’s carefully placed walls. Those golden brown eyes pierce into Simon look like they want to pull out all of Simon’s most inner thoughts. Simon always leaves class feeling stripped bare. 

It doesn’t help that he’s infuriatingly attractive and seems to know it. Simon always catches him chatting with people in the halls, all soft smiles and gesturing hands. He’ll watch as Wilhelm will push his hands through his hair like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to whoever he’s talking to. Simon’s pretty sure he’s captured the hearts of everyone in their shared psychology course. Well not Simon. He knows Wilhelm’s little game. He won’t fall victim to Wilhelm’s charms no matter how much his heart flutters when he has Wilhelm’s attention on him. 

Which is why he’s currently frowning as he watchings Wilhelm across the room at a party. He doesn’t know how he got to be at said party. He doesn’t like parties. He’d much rather sit on the couch and binge watched New Girl for the hundredth time. However his sister, Sara, had been invited to one at her friend Felice’s apartment and she’d practically begged him to go and he was practically incapable of saying no to her. So here he is.

It’s just as terrible as he thought it would be. The lights are hurting his head, the music is hurting his head, and the loud people are hurting his head. He found a corner almost immediately and has been stationed there since they’d arrived. He’d lost Sara almost immediately but knew she’d indicate to him when she wanted to leave. That didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. Thus Simon was stuck in his corner, eyes wandering over all of the other party guests. 

He absolutely hates how quickly his eyes get drawn to Wilhelm. He looks as good as ever, laughing with whomever he’s talking with, despite the crown made out of glow sticks placed on his head. One hand is gesturing, as always, while the other holds a classic red solo cup with some kind of liquid that Simon is sure is filled with alcohol. Simon’s eyes stray back to the makeshift crown on Wilhelm’s head. Simon scoffs. Someone seems to be taking his surname a slight bit too literally. It’s because he’s already watching Wilhelm that he shouldn’t be surprised that Wilhelm catches him. Simon is just happy that Wilhelm doesn’t catch Simon looking him over. Godforbid Wilhelm thinks Simon is checking him out. Simon observes as Wilhelm makes eye contact with him and the smile on his face somehow softens slightly. Simon curses and looks away. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. It’s because Wilhelm is, apparently, the bane of his existence that he then hears

“Simon!” yelled out across the room. How he hears it over the music he’s not sure but maybe it’s become far too intune with Wilhelm’s voice from class. Up until this point Simon has been able to avoid one-on-one interactions and he isn’t looking forward to what this one will entail.

“Simon, hi!” And then Wilhelm’s soft smile is hitting him at full force. Simon tries to keep his face as neutral as possible. This guy is a straight, arrogant rich boy. Simon will not fall victim to his charms (a small voice in the back of his head scolds him for assuming Wilhelm’s sexuality but he ignores that. best to keep his mind from running wild).

“Wilhelm,” Is all Simon says, keeping his voice as deadpan as possible. Maybe if he sounds uninterested enough Wilhelm will just leave him alone. 

“Oh, please. Call me Wille,” Is what Wilhelm says in response, a smile still stuck on his face. Wilhelm brings the hand not holding his cup up to brush through his hair, a move that Simon has seen probably a hundred times at this point and has to keep from rolling his eyes. 

“How kind… Wilhelm how are you tonight?” because if Wilhelm can be a little shit in class, Simon can be a little shit here. Simon can’t be sure but he thinks he sees Wille’s smile fade at that before it’s coming back almost stronger than before. It’s almost as if Wille’s trying to cover up his pain by proving that he can still smile, no matter how much faker this bigger smile looks. Wille’s hand comes back up to brush through his hair. 

“I’m doing alright, Simon. How about you?”  Before Simon can even answer this, Wille’s interrupting himself again. “Wait, can I get you something to drink?” Because of course. 

“I don’t drink,” Simon tries to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He knows that Wille wouldn’t know this about him since Simon’s never been to one of these parties before. 

“Oh that’s okay! I don’t either. I’m just drinking lemonade. I could get you something like that!” Simon can’t help his eyebrows from raising at that. In all honesty, part of him assumed that Wille had just approached him because he’s tipsy. Wille has never tried to talk to him outside of class before so this seemed the only logical explanation. 

“Why the red solo cup, then?” Simon can’t help but ask. Wille’s face transforms into one of sheepishness before he answers. 

“Honestly it keeps people from pestering me about it,” Wille explains, now his hand is rubbing at the back of his neck. In all honesty, Simon can understand that. There’s a bit of an awkward silence while Wille stares at Simon and Simon stares back not really sure what Wille’s waiting for. Wille seems to realize that Simon can’t read his mind. 

“So lemonade?” 

Simon considers the offer for a moment. It couldn’t hurt to have something in his hands while he waits for Sara to finish up here. 

“Sure why not,” Simon caves. This brings the soft smile from before back to Wille’s face. Simon hates how good it looks. 

“Okay follow me,” and without even waiting for Simon’s next sentence, Wille grabs Simon’s hand and starts to lead him through the crowded room. A shiver runs up Simon’s arm and he can’t help but keep his eyes trained on their joined hands the whole way through the living room to the kitchen. Wille doesn’t even seem to register what he’s done. Simon registers. Simon registers it quite a bit actually. 

Once they get into the kitchen Wille drops his hand and heads straight for the fridge, bypassing the counter tops overflowing with different types of alcohol. Simon can’t help but be surprised at Wille’s audacity to just open up someone else’s fridge. 

“Umm should you be doing that?” Simon can’t help but ask. He hasn’t been to many parties but he feels like it’s in poor taste to just open someone else’s fridge. Wille looks at him like he just told a funny joke. 

“Well it is my apartment so I should hope so,” The smirk on Wille’s face as he says this just emphasizes how amusing he finds Simon’s comment. Then the words sink in. If this is Felice’s apartment… and Wille also lives here then that means they’re probably together. Which, when Simon thinks about it, makes sense. Beautiful people seem to stick together and Simon’s seen Felice enough times to know that she’s gorgeous… and Simon is past trying to admit that Wille isn’t beautiful. 

“Oh so… you and Felice?” Wille stares at Simon after he says this long enough to wonder if he heard the question despite them standing right in front of each other. 

“Me and Felice what?” As if he doesn’t know where that sentence was going. 

“You and Felice are…” Simon bring himself to finish the statement for some reason but luckily Wille seems to finally pick up what he’s getting at. Simon doesn’t necessarily understand the surprise that follows the understanding though. 

“Oh! No no. Felice and I are just friends. We knew each other in secondary school and when we found out we’d be going to the same university we decided to get a place together instead of staying in the dorms on campus.” Wille explains. The longer Wille explained things the more Simon felt himself flush with embarrassment over jumping to conclusions. Then Wille continues and Simon’s jaw just about drops to the floor. 

“I’m too queer to be into Felice,” Wille finishes this with a charming smile that Simon feels all the way down to his toes. The smile softens into something fond “and I don’t deserve Felice anyways. She’s the best person I know,” Simon kind of hates that he’s feeling so endeared to Wille. This whole night was meant to prove that Simon’s opinion about him was right, not that he might’ve been missing something! Besides, none of this changes the fact that Wille seems to get a kick out of getting under Simon’s skin. 

“Well I’ve met Felice a few times and… you’re not wrong about that,” Simon offers a small smile at that to show that he’s joking. Wille chuckles lightly at said joke. Then Simon is reminded of why he’s kept his distance from Wille. 

“So how are you doing on this psych paper?” Simon should’ve known. Just because Wille’s queer, it doesn’t mean he’s not still an asshole. He should’ve seen it coming. Wille has probably just been buttering him up to distract him before coming in with the kill. 

“Oh no… oh no no no,” The confused expression on Wille’s face and Simon’s face makes him feel even more frustrated. 

“What?” The question is very clear in Wille’s voice but Simon’s sure he’s been led into a false sense of security before Wille absolutely rips Simon’s paper to shreds. 

“I see what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. Not this time” Now Wille looks even more confused but Simon doesn’t care. He just pushes on. 

“Look I’ve worked too long and too hard on this paper for you to come and shit all over it” Simon barely registered when Wille tries to interrupt

“No Simon that’s not” Simon just barrels through. He’s getting so worked up that he doesn’t even think of the next words until after they’ve left his mouth. 

“Look, just because you’re cute and you have floppy hair and puppy dog eyes it doesn’t mean you can just come here and try to make me forget about how often you disagree with me in class. I won’t stand for…” before he can even finish the statement Wille is cutting him off again. He realizes he’s started pacing and hasn’t been looking at Wille as he gets more and more worked up because when Wille speaks up Simon is floored by the expression on his face. 

“Wait, you think I’m cute?” The smile on Wille’s face is so bright that Simon almost has to look away again at the sight of it. Then he registers Wille’s words and he’s back to being annoyed. 

“Really? That’s all you got from all of that?” Wille looks a little guilty at that. 

“ No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to brush off the rest of it. I really was just asking about the paper. I really value your opinions and what you have to say?” Now Simon is the one to feel surprised. 

“I don’t understand. If you value my opinions, why are you always disagreeing with them in class in front of everyone?” Simon questions. Wille’s hand runs through his hair before it moves back to his neck. 

“I don’t know. I just like hearing how passionate you get about the subjects you talk about. And you didn’t even seem to glance in my direction until I started disagreeing with you.” At this, Simon’s mouth actually drops open. 

“I…” Unfortunately before Simon can formulate more of a response, Sara is coming up to his side, interrupting their conversation.

“Simme… Simme…. Hi Simme,” Simon can tell she’s clearly quite a bit to drink. 

“Are you okay Sara?” Simon sends a semi-apologetic look towards Wille, who’s watching the whole exchange with an expression that Simon can’t read, before he turns all of his attention to his drunk sister. 

“Yeah, Simme. That’s funny Simme,” Simon realizes it’s probably time to get her home.

“Okay Sara, I think it’s time to get you home.” Simon explains, hoping she won’t put up too much of a fuss. 

“Okay Simme,” Sara continues to giggle as Simon starts to drag Sara back through the house with one spared glance at Wille, who now seems slightly frozen in place. They’ve gotten outside and started walking, slowly practically all of Sara’s weight is resting against Simon, when he hears someone shout his name behind him.

“Simon! Simon, wait up on sec.” Simon knows who it is before he even turns around. 

“Sara stay here for a second,” Simon has no idea if Sara will actually listen but she giggles and nods and doesn’t collapse to the ground immediately after Simon lets go so she thinks it might be safe. Simon turns to face Wille as he approaches on the sidewalk. 

“What’s up Wille?” Wille’s face lights up and Simon doesn’t realize until after he’s said the statement why Wille might be happy. Instead of responding though, Wille hands him a slip of paper. When Simon looks down he realizes it’s Wille’s number.

“What’s this?” Simon can’t help but ask. Something like nervousness and a little bit of giddiness filling him. 

“Well I was thinking maybe you could use that sometime. Maybe we could… get coffee and talk about how much our opinions actually align?” Simon can’t help but be slightly enamored by the fact that Wille is clearly nervous. He never would’ve expected Wille to be the type to be nervous to ask someone out. 

“But why?” Since Simon’s brain was clearly left behind in that kitchen. Wille doesn’t seem deterred though. In fact instead he takes a few steps closer to Simon so that now Simon has to look up at him. Simon doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he might. 

“Well because… I happen to think you're cute too,” And then before he can formulate a response to that, Simon feels a pair of soft lips against his cheek and Wille is retreating again, walking backwards for a few paces until he almost runs into a bush then he turns around to continue back to his apartment. Simon can’t help but snicker at the little display of clumsiness, though Simon also realizes his hand is against his cheek where it’s still heated up from Wille’s lips. Without allowing them too, Simon’s own lips creep into a smile. He’s not even sure what his next move will be but it’s interrupted by some drunk giggling behind him and he’s reminded of Sara, who luckily didn’t go anywhere but unluckily witnessed that whole display. 

“Ooooh Simme has a cruuush,” Simon flushes at Sara’s innocent teasing. 

“Shut up, Sara,” But even Sara’s mocking tone and mischievous expression can’t wipe the smile off Simon’s own face as they continue home.

Maybe… Wille Prince isn’t the most infuriating person Simon has ever met.