and she's not in this world yet]

Be Seeing You (Merkel)

Based Upon: Being a CIA agent. Whenever you and Merkel cross paths on a mission, you always end up in bed together.

Her mission was simple. She was to kill Warren Elswood, CEO of Elswood Institute, the leading company in finance and investments in all of Europe. The company was based in France, allowing Warren and his high status staff to slip French Intelligence into the hands of the world’s most recent terror organization, BLACKTHORN. Elswood Institute came up on the CIA’s radar soon afterwards, and they responded by sending her to Paris as an undercover operative to end the life of Mr. Elswood.

She was leaning with her back against the marble bar counter, holding a glass of champagne in her right hand. Her intelligent eyes watched as Mr. Elswood conserved with a much older businessman, his dark eyes deceivingly warm as he spoke.

Yet, it was not long before the twenty-five year old billionaire became bored of the discussion, allowing his eyes to wander around the grand ballroom for something to pique his interest.

They landed on her.

She took a delicate sip of the champagne she held, closing her eyes momentarily as the bubbling liquid slipped down her throat, before giving him a flirtatious smile.

His eyes held hers and he began to watch her, casually to intently as she ran a hand through the slit in her floor length, black dress. Dreadfully slow, she moved her hand up her exposed leg, permitting him to see more and more of her smooth skin as she went.

Long had Mr. Elswood forgotten about the businessman in front of him. He only took interest in one person in the whole room; her.

When her hand met the end of the slit- which stopped on her mid thigh, her eyes narrowed seductively at the tall man. She took a hold of the black silk, right at the top of the slit, and gently pulled the fabric up her leg.

His eyes darkened at her actions.

She took a sip of her champagne and winked at him before moving the fabric further up her smooth leg, watching as he continued to ignore the man who was speaking to him. His gaze was set on the prize he wanted most; not a trade deal he could make any day, but an intoxicating woman he wanted to fuck until she wholeheartedly gave herself to him.

Finally, she polished off the champagne and stilled her hand movements. With a smirk, she splayed her fingers over her upper thigh, curling them right near her as he watched with baited breath.

At that moment Warren Elswood decided that business could wait until the night was over; he was going to celebrate his accomplishments in a much more enjoyable way.

Suddenly, she let go of the black fabric, letting it fall back into perfect place on her leg.

His jaw tightened and she could see his muscles flexing. Perfect. Little did he know, he was falling right into the trap she had laid out for him.

She set the empty glass down on the bar top and strode past him to the grand staircase in the very middle of the large ballroom. She scaled the polished stairs elegantly and only looked over her shoulder when she reached the top of the steps.

Warren Elswood was shaking the man’s hand whose conversation he had ignored entirely before excusing himself.

She smirked and began to walk down the seemingly endless hallway that had a colossal ceiling and beautifully intricate architecture, swaying her hips as she went.

Warren Elwood was one foolish man.

When he rounded the corner he saw the woman from the bar with her back flush against the wall, waiting for him. He took in her features and decided that she was truly stunning, something memorable.

She had always hated this part of the job, but she wasn’t worried- no, she’d finish him off before he could even slip one of the sleeves off her shoulder.

“Quite the party you’re having, Mr. Elswood.”

He gave her a confident smile and nodded, advancing on her like a predator closing in on it’s prey. She had been in control downstairs, but he planned on rendering her breathless, unable to even formulate a thought or word other than his name when he had her on her back.

“Are you enjoying yourself? It seems my champagne is to your liking.” He quipped.

She extended a hand out to him, which he took, and ushered him closer to her clothed body.

“The party has been fine… could be better.” She teased, the suggestive innuendo clear.

His hands slipped onto her hips and he pressed him fingers into her flesh, causing her to moan in response- or so he thought.

She looked up at him with hooded eyes and he could not bear to see her dressed a second longer. Images of her naked body and voice pleading, had him growing harder by the second.

“I’ll make it better.” He assured her, moving his hands up to knead her breasts.

It took everything in her not too laugh, he really was too easy.

His lips were on her neck, sucking, biting and kissing as if his life depended on it. He was eager to feel every part of her, so much so that he could barely think rationally. He did not care that someone could easily walk down this hallway, only that her warm skin felt so good against his lips.

“I’m sure you will. You’re so young.” She began easily, faking a moan as he swirled his fingers around her breasts.

His hot breath fanned over her skin as he laughed.

“So young? I doubt you’re older than I am, Darling.” He alleged, lips going right back to work on her neck.

She placed her hands on his broad chest and gave him a subtle push back. When he looked at her, his expression was one of confusion and anger, until she gave him a sly smirk and bent down.

Relief flooded through him, along with desire as he desperately waited for her to slip her undergarments to the floor. He began to unbuckle his leather belt, fingers fumbling frantically as he attempted to unhook his buckle.

She sent a swift glance up at him from her kneeling position, checking to make sure he was distracted, before yanking her gun out of the holster that was strapped to her leg.

“Darling.” She drawled, standing before him, “Do you know it is terrible etiquette to ask a woman how old she is?”

His eye went wide as she placed her finger on the trigger.

“Terrible.” She scolded.

A bullet lodged itself in the centre of his forehead, causing the young billionaire’s body to hit the ground hard. Deep crimson began to trickle from the wound, soon turning into a steady stream of blood as it spread across the gleaming floor.

She knelt down beside him and checked for a pulse.

No staff came running to the scene, she had made sure of that by attaching a silencer to her weapon. She was sure that nobody in the whole building has even heard a sound.

There was no beat in his neck or wrist, but there were footsteps at the opposite end of the hall.

Instinctively, she aimed her gun at the oncoming person and looked to to possibly identify them.

She slipped the gun back into the holster when she saw who it was.


Sighing, she stood and grabbed something from the holster on her thigh before striding towards him.

“Is he-”

“You’re too late.” She said simply, slipping a card into the breast pocket of his suit jacket as she passed him.

He turned to watch her walk down the hall, noticing the sway of her hips and how the dark dress fit her in all of the right places. The highlight of any mission he went on was to see her, the most mysterious and beautiful woman he believed he would ever encounter.

He fished the unknown object out of his pocket and examined it. He realized it was her room key to a suite in the Continental.

She did not know how long she spent underneath the shower head, letting the water cascade over her bare body. At first the water was ice cold, relaxing her sore muscles; then it was almost scalding hot, letting her revel in the blissful sensation of warmth.

She was so lost in the feeling of the heat flowing over her body, that she did not hear the bathroom door open.

Her bruised hands, now washed clean of any makeup, smoothed her slick hair passed her ears and down the back of her neck. She let her head fall back, allowing the warm water to descend upon her collarbone, breasts and roll down past her stomach.

Merkel’s large hands slipped onto her waist, head right near hers and lips almost touching her ear.

“Did you dispose of him?” She wondered, almost sighing when she felt his fingers spread across her stomach.

“Yes.” He said and took her earlobe between his teeth, tugging softly before releasing it.

His hands continued to glide over her wet skin, one massaging her breast while the other moved across her stomach.

“Good boy.” She praised, leaning her head against the base of his neck as a prize.

If he wasn’t hard at the sight of her, he definitely was now. Hearing her commend him and move herself flush against him drove him absolutely wild; never could he get enough of her, he only wanted to please her.

His hands ran deeper, rubbing her inner thighs before moving his skilled fingers upwards, right through her slick folds. He could almost come at the feeling of her, no one could ever feel as sweet.

He slipped one finger inside of her, curling up and swirling inside of her. She gasped at his sudden movements and jolted forward, placing her wet hands on the slippery tile.

“Merkel!” She gasped, voice breathless and almost alarmed, “Be patient…” She sounded like a mother scolding her child for nagging at them; he was not to touch her yet.

His finger slipped out of her and his hands moved to grip her hips as he dipped his head forward.

“I can’t… It’s been too long. I need you.” He all but whined.

She sighed, “Fine.” Then moved his hands to her breasts, “But let me finish washing up.”

Though she could not see, he nodded, then got straight to work on kneading her breasts, fingers rolling over her hardening buds.

He ogled at her body while she ran a Shea scented conditioner through her hair, inhaling deeply once he smelt the nutty scent. She combed her fingers through her locks, rinsing the product out of her hair and moaning whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot.

She allowed him to soap her body, knowing it would make him happy, and watched as he knelt down in front of her, eyes only meeting hers on the occasion he was not staring at her body. When he stood, he was taller than her, yet she could make him feel smaller than he was, which was something he was welcome to admit.

Once she was fully lathered, she backed into the rainfall of the shower head and allowed the suds to flow down her body, onto the tiled floor. He watched all of her movements intently, utterly mesmerized by her grace and the way she held herself. When she finished, she stepped out of the large shower and slipped a towel around her wet body, drying off quickly, then dropping the towel onto the ground and strolling out of the bathroom.

Merkel was not far behind her, taking a fresh towel and running it over his body before joining her in the bedroom.

She sat in a grey cushioned chair with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She took a drag then pulled the roll-up from her mouth, lips blowing out a wispy cloud of smoke.

He stood in front of her, naked as the day he was born, and watched as she took slow drags from her cigarette.

The dim lighting only did wonders for her body, making it impossible for him not to stare in complete awe. Even after all of the nights they had spent together, he was always struck by her beauty; every night seemed like the first.

She was a force to be reckoned with out in the field, so it was only to be expected that she would be as equally in charge in the bedroom. But tonight, he wanted to have her crying out his name, loudly and wholeheartedly. He mustered up his courage:

“I want to be in control tonight.”

She looked up at him from her cloud of smoke.

“Do you now?” She wondered.

His pale eyes darkened, the green becoming much more intense as he came closer to her.

“Yes. I want to have you in whichever way I please.” He spoke.

She noticed how hard he was and smirked to herself.

“I see. Do you know how to do so?” She quipped, eyes gleaming in delight as she teased him, cigarette hanging from her fingertips.

“I do.” He affirmed.

She appeared to ponder his request- demand, rather and finally nodded.

“Alright. But first, I want you to do something for me.” She insisted.

He was overjoyed; in due time he was going to see her demeanour falter under his touch, that cold, brute, seductive facade. However, she wanted something from him first. So he nodded, expression saying all the words he did not: ‘Anything. Tell me.’

She smirked at his features, he was ready for her to tell him what she wanted.

“Kneel.” She ordered.

He complied immediately, tall form sinking down onto his knees in front of her. She spread her legs apart before him and he looked into her eyes, his own filled with desperation as he waited for her permission to taste her.

She gave him a simple nod and he dove into her, tongue instantly slipping into her.

She watched from above, cigarette drooping in her fingers, as he pleasured her. Her free hand clutched the cushion of the chair she sat in, fingers digging into the fabric as she felt her core tighten.

He licked her mercilessly, lapping her juices with his skilled tongue as he found all the places that made her moan, allowing him to listen to her erratic breaths.

She stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray and took hold of his brown locks.

“Fuck.” She moaned, panting under his touch.

Her praise only made him want to give her more pleasure, so he did what he did best.

When she came it was hard and earth-shattering, to which Merkel moaned and drank her wetness eagerly. The taste of her was like no one else he had ever had, and having her writhe in his touch made it all the more sweet.

She lit another cigarette.

Still on his knees, he looked up at her, eyes begging her to allow him to have his way with her as he had promised. She took a purposefully slow drag, enjoying the sight of him squirming, and exhaled.

“Stand.” She commanded.

He did; tall, finely muscled and handsome in front of her.

“Now, what do you plan to do to me?” She wondered, yet her tone sounded almost teasing, as if she did not believe he could ever pleasure and control her at the same time; she was always the dominant.

His eyes darkened and he took one swift step forward, leaning down and snatching the cigarette from her lips. He pressed the tip into the ashtray and stood back.

She considered him, maybe he did have the talents; he was working hard to show her.

“Stand.” He commanded, just like she had a moment before.

Her eyes shone with playfulness and she complied, standing before him bare, waiting and ready. She couldn’t help but be a bit curious, never before had he been so bold- asking to take over. Yet there she was, awaiting his next demand.

She didn’t get one.

He only took her hands into his larger ones and pushed her backwards, causing her to almost trip over her feet, and slam her against the dark oak wall. She was surprised by his force, but in her many years in the CIA, she had become accustomed to being pushed around.

He held both of her hands in one of his and forced them above her head, her arms becoming almost completely straight against the cool wall. He stood between her parted legs and looked into her eyes, they still glimmered with mischief.

“Well. This is a rather…compromising position.” She joked, anything to show her control.

He instantly wrapped his free hand around her throat, pressing his fingers into her flesh, and affectively cut off her breath.

Her eyes widened, first with shock and then, a deep carnal lust. That'a boy.

He squeezed her neck for a few more seconds, revelling in the satisfaction of her fighting hands, eyes filled with desire, before loosening his grip. She sputtered, taking deep breaths to restore circulation.

“Are you ready to behave?” He wondered.

She nodded, “Yes.”

His fingers dug into her throat again.


“Yes, sir.” She gasped, attempting to steady her shaky breaths.

He gave her a sly smirk, the one she had given him on countless occasions. She truly was an excellent teacher.

“Tell me how much you want me.” He commanded.

Her breaths became even.

“So badly… sir.” She caught herself just in time.

“I want you to keep your eyes open. Eyes on me the whole time, Baby.”

The second she opened her mouth, he slipped one of his deliciously long fingers inside of her and she fought to keep her eyes open.

He pumped it in and out, adding another as he continued his work on her.

It was terribly erotic; fighting to keep her eyes on his as he swirled, dipped and curled his fingers inside of her, all while having her hands held high above her head. Though she would never admit it to him, she didn’t mind letting him take over; it was nice to let someone dictate your every move.

She tried to stifle her moans, so they only came out a quiet whimpers as he finger-fucked her.

“I want to hear you.” He said huskily, tone deeper than she had ever heard before.

That was all it took for her to completely lose herself. Her moans became louder, her hands fought harder and her eyes looked so unlike her own. She was like another person.

He allowed her to close her eyes as she finished, shutting his own as he listened to her pants, sounding much younger than usual.

She had given him exactly what he wanted.

For the rest of the night she had him her way, riding him for the most part and then wrapping her legs around his hips as they fucked upright.

He followed all of her orders. She kept the position she loved.

It just worked.

She laid down on her back as they finished for the final time that night and pulled the sheets over her bare body. She was glad Merkel was there that evening at the gala, he was right; it had been too long.

He rested on his side, body facing her, and ran a hand across her stomach. She tensed under his touch, not the one for cuddling, but allowed him to idly stroke her because she knew he appreciated it. He was a bit more needy than her.

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

“Back to America for another assignment. Yourself?” She countered.

He traced patterns onto her hot skin.


She nodded and turned onto her side as well, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’ll be seeing you later then, I suppose.” She smirked.

He pulled her into his chest, her bare breasts pressed into his side, which she again decided to allow.

“Be seeing you.” He mumbled into her hair.

They both fell asleep.

She was up at five in the morning.

After slipping on a white silk blouse, black tailored pants and heels, she rolled her suitcase to the door of the suite.

She could see that the sky was still dark, only a few orange streaks broke through the darkness; it would be another hour before the sun rose, waking Merkel.

She gave him one final glance, taking in his naked body and tousled hair. He was always been a good lay.

Then she was gone, leaving nothing but a simple note behind:

Be seeing you.

*Tags: @mizz-kraziii  @winter-slays @hahahannah28 @skarsgardtrash @book-wyrm-snacks @lyra-timelord @jasmineladjevardi @diva-skywalker-af   @mimiloosblog @capricorn-bliss @scarlet-doll-13 @negan5589 @lukesriff@allkundsofwrong @diianawonka @wonderlust-luna @cvrousel @weallhaveadestiny @gordonramsayisking @booklover2929 @teenageglasshouse @michelleexk

If you want or no longer want to be tagged, comment or submit.*

I was thinking of writing this prompt another way as well, something really stylistic. Will be posted in the future!

1. people invited to the secret sessions shouldn’t have anything to say other than how grateful they are for the opportunity

2. people who weren’t invited or haven’t met taylor yet need to find better ways of conveying their disappointment than thinly veiled jealousy and spite (when i say thinly veiled i mean unveiled)

3. not everything can happen to everyone. taylor goes out of her way to meet as many people as possible but the reality is..she’s not gonna get to everyone because she has a lot of fans all over the world

4. these events are literally called ‘SECRET SESSIONS’ yes it’s not nice for people who were there to flaunt the fact they were a part of something others weren’t in peoples faces but some of you are acting like someone saying “i can’t tell you what she said sorry” is exclusionary..actually it’s not they just had to sign a NON DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

5. everyone is going to look stupid when the album comes out and everything that is secret right now is suddenly not so secret anymore so if everyone could just GROW UP that would be great


*Note: in this fanfic, I’m writing as if the KOL Concert is the first time Taylor saw Joe, which isn’t correct but we’re not familiar with their timeline so I’m writing this well aware that they had met before. Enjoy :)*

Music was blasting through the speakers and people were dancing like never before. Kings of Leon were playing a concert in NYC that night and Taylor couldn’t miss it for the world. She gathered a group of friends together and they made their way to the location, going through a private back entrance obviously. All of Taylor’s friends had been separated during the concert and were dancing with other people, fully drunk yet fully enjoying the moment too. Taylor was with Martha at a table near the bar. She wore a tight black dress, with a see-through top that made her black bra underneath visible because of the flashing nights. Her hair was tied up in a cute little pony tail and she looked hotter than ever in her black combat boots that she was obsessed with. They had been taking shots of tequila as a celebratory task, just as an appreciation for their friendship.

“So what is this, 4 years now?” Martha asked, taking another shot of tequila. 

“Who even fucking knows at this point?” Taylor stuttered as they both laughed amongst themselves, clearly starting to get very tipsy. 

“Come on T, take my hand, let’s dance!” Martha exclaimed, pulling Taylor away from the table and closer to the bar counter where there was some space for them to dance. 

“Just like a reverend, like a reverend on the radio!” They both sang loudly at the top of their voices, as they moved their hips to the music. 

“Your heart will never say so!” They both sang to each other, giggling away as if they were in their own little world. Once that song ended, they both made their way back to the table, fixing their hair slightly after the outburst they just had to the music. 

“You know what” Martha spoke as she poured herself and Taylor another shot.
“Who needs boys when you have good fucking music and tequila?“ 

"I agree!” Taylor shouted as they both took the shot and started to feel the alcohol kicking in. 

As the night continued on, Taylor and Martha danced like nothing else mattered. They didn’t even know where the rest of their friends were, probably busy dancing with others they assumed. Taylor was starting to get really intoxicated and slightly unaware of her surroundings, that was until her eyes locked with a certain fella who made his way over to the bar counter. The only thing she could notice was that he was tall and blonde, and his ass looked great in those jeans, she thought to herself. He stood a few feet away from Taylor and Martha and looked back at them a couple times. Taylor watched as the man with luscious golden blonde hair and a skin tight top smirked at her before turning around to order a drink. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him without blinking. Her mind was all over the place at this point, but one thing she was certain of, was that he was gorgeous from what could tell from that far back. His smirk sent her mind wandering off in thoughts she wish she could avoid. 

“Duuuude, who you staring at?” Martha nudged Taylor as she looked over to where she was looking. 

“Oh fuck me….” Taylor sighed with exhaustion, still constantly looking over at the man who was clearly checking her out at this point. 

“Go ask him to then” Martha exclaimed as she finally understood who Taylor was staring at with heart eyes. 

“Martha!!” Taylor slapped her arm slightly.

“Okay, but what just happened to the whole ‘I don’t need a guy’ talk? Just drop it he’s probably a douche” Martha told Taylor, trying to turn her away from staring at him. 

“But he’s so gorgeous…..” Taylor whined, stamping her feet like a child having a tantrum. The alcohol was really starting to kick in at this point. 

“So is every other guy in this club!” Martha exclaimed, pouring herself a shot. 

“These guys aren’t worth it, they get close just to screw you off later and leave you to deal with the heartache alone. You should know that better than anyone” Martha was less drunk than Taylor so was still in her right mind. 

“Ugh for fucks sake, I need a drink” Taylor sighed, taking the bottle from Martha and pouring herself a shot, then taking it. 

Martha noticed that Taylor was peering over her shoulder. 

“Oh my gosh, are you really that intrigued? He literally looks like the type of guy who’d take you to his room once than disappear from the face of the earth” Martha put both her hands on Taylor’s shoulders and looked her in the eye as she spoke, knowing that Taylor was clearly drunk and whatever she was thinking was not a good idea. 

“I know, I know but…..” Taylor trailed off as a confused look surfaced on her face.

“What?” Martha asked, looking over at where Taylor was looking to see Garrett, a friend of Lily’s walking over to the blonde guy and sitting with him for a drink. 

“Wait, how do they know each other?” Taylor questioned, fully confused as to what she was seeing. She watched as he and Garrett chuckled loudly, sipping their drinks. Martha looked around for Lily, spotting her not to far away from them dancing, and pulling her over. 

“Lily, who is that guy?” Taylor asked desperately, as if her life depended on it. 

“What guy?” Lily asked, confused as to why her friends were acting so weird. 

“That blonde over there talking to Garret” Taylor tilted her head to the right to get Lily to look over. 

“Oh, that’s Garrett’s co-star from his recent film” Lily explained. “Why?” She questioned curiously. 

“Because Taylor’s in looooove” Martha mocked her, giggling. 

“Oh shut up! I’m not!” Taylor raised her voice slightly to make herself seem stable in her thoughts, when she clearly wasn’t. 

“Awww that’s cute Taylor, but weren’t you just preaching yesterday how every guy is a douche?” Lily giggled, seeing her friend completely head over heels for someone who is a stranger to her. 

“Will you two stop, all I’m saying is that he’s just really pretty okay, I don’t wanna get in his pants or anything” Taylor shrugged her shoulders, trying to sound as believable as possible. 

“Ooookaaayyy……” Martha rolled her eyes slightly, clearly not believing a word her drunk friend was saying. 

“Do you want to talk to him?” Lily asked Taylor. 

“No!” She responded immediately, knowing she would make a fool out of herself in this state. She looked over to the two men at the counter, and noticed that they were both looking back at her. She watched as they both got up from their stools and started making their way over. 

“Oh fuck, they’re coming here, um” Taylor began fixing her hair, trying to look as decent as possible. 

“Oh calm down, I thought you didn’t care anyway?” Martha joked, seeing how flustered Taylor looked. 

“Lily!” Garrett greeted her, with the blonde following behind him. 

“Garrett, how are you?” Lily asked. 

“I’m doing great, thanks! Lovely to meet you ladies, I hope you’re having a splendid evening” he spoke to Taylor and Martha, but Taylor was in her own little world. She had made eye contact with the guy once, and looked away suddenly. He was beautiful, he really was. So much better looking closer up. His eyes were a gorgeous blue colour, the type you only see at the beaches in the Bahamas. His lips were beautifully pink and plump, making Taylor breathe in deeply to compose herself. 

“Hey ladies, I’m Joseph, or Joe for short” he spoke. Taylor’s heart literally sped up so much she felt like she had just ran a marathon. He was British, and he had the most soothingly sexy voice that sent Taylor’s mind In a spiral. The way his words flowed, she couldn’t contain herself, it was like he was deliberately speaking knowing well enough that she was checking him out too. 

“Nice to meet you Joe, I’m Martha and this is my friend Taylor” she greeted him by shaking his hand. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Martha and Taylor” his deep voice echoed in Taylor’s mind, as she processed how he said her way in the most attractive way possible. She was drunk at this point and was struggling to fight the urge to act normal. 

Tayyyy-lahhhhh” Taylor repeated in a crappy British accent and giggled like the happy drunk she was, mocking Joe’s accent as a coping mechanism to not blow her cover of clearly being so attracted to him. Martha shot over a ’what the fuck’ look at Taylor. This caused him to chuckle, his laugh sounded so beautiful in Taylor’s mind. 

Just then, the rest of Taylor’s friend all ran over to join them, causing Garret and Joe to move closer to Taylor to give the other girls space to stand, forming a circle. Joe was stood right beside Taylor, and it was causing her to go crazy. What was even happening right now? Who is this guy? Why am I so attracted? Taylor’s mind filled with endless thoughts of how she ended up in that situation. He was stood so close to her that she had even accidentally brushed her arm against his, feeling his tensed bicep, that literally made her heart begin to flutter. His side profile was absolutely gorgeous. He was perfect, and Taylor knew deep down that she wanted him. She did her best not to make any eye contact with him and just ignore him entirely, but the thought of touching him wouldn’t leave the back of her head. 

The music volume increased at this point and people began raving to the music, all of Taylor’s friends and Garrett began dancing to the music. Taylor was dancing a little bit but couldn’t focus on anything other than Joe next to her, who she still hadn’t looked over at. Just then, the hairs on her hand stood up as she felt something brush up against it. She looked down, to see Joe slowly touching her hand and grabbing a hold of it. Taylor made direct eye contact with him, finally, and he smiled the most sweetest smile she had ever seen. Her heart was beating like crazy at this point. Was he actually trying to make a move on her? Not that she minded it, but still. Taylor noticed that she hadn’t let go of his hand either, and they both just stood there, gazing into each other’s ocean blue eyes with lust, his tender touch making her go crazy. 

“I saw you looking” he finally spoke up, smirking at her and breaking the silence between them. Her heart stopped for a second as she realised her cover was blown and she had clearly made it obvious that she was checking him out. Taylor opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, she just looked down shyly, biting her lip, and slowly let go of his hand, which she noticed were huge, sending her drunk mind into thoughts she wished she wasn’t having at that point. She was so nervous by how gorgeous he was that she couldn’t even say anything, especially not to his face. What was she supposed to do at this point? Ignore him completely, or give in and exchange numbers? Maybe she should invite him over? She suddenly stopped herself as she had that thought, thinking she was going insane. She had literally just met the guy and now she’s already thinking of jumping into bed with him? Come to your senses Taylor, she thought to herself, but was aware that her drunk mind was far different and much more inappropriate then when she’s sober.

Just then, Garret spoke and Interrupted her train of thought.  

“Hey bro come on, I’ll introduce you to Caleb” he said to Joe. 

“I’ll see you around” Joe mouthed to her, then smiling as he walked away. Taylor watched lovingly as his gorgeous physique walked away, her heart feeling so warm and fuzzy. She couldn’t deny that she was very attracted to him, but was it lust because she was drunk, or was she genuinely falling for him? 

The rest of that night consisted of Taylor and her friends dancing, and drinking even more to a point of becoming completely wasted. As much as she tried focusing on the present situation, she couldn’t stop thinking about Joe and his beautiful face, and accent, and that smile. Oh my gosh, am I really falling in love with this stranger, she thought to herself.

Taylor was now back at her NYC apartment, her bodyguard had dropped her off safely and made sure she was okay before he left. She sat on her bed, her hand on her head that was aching from having drunk so much. Meredith and Olivia were sat on the bed in front of her. She sighed to herself, replaying the event of that night in her head. Joe. That’s all she could think about. His face, the way he spoke so elegantly. The way he said her name, and she cringed to herself remembering how she must have made a fool of herself when she mocked his accent. 

“What do I do now?” Taylor began speaking to her cats. She usually has drunk conversations with her cats quite often. 

“He was so pretty I just…..I couldn’t help myself from staring. And I literally made it so obvious too. Way to go Swift.” She sighed, feeling slight embarrassment but also annoyance at how head over heels she was for Joe. 

“I shouldn’t trust him right? He could just be trying to get with me because I’m, well me" 

Meow. Olivia purred and Meredith shifted slightly, making herself more comfortable. 

"Yeah you’re right, I should just forget about him. We all know what’s gonna happen. He’ll probably hook up with me once and I know I’ll be left devastated and wanting more. The cute guys are always the worst” Taylor threw herself back on her bed, and then unexpectedly threw a pillow across to the other side of the room. 

“But he’s just so gorgeous arrggghh!!!!” She shouted at the top of her voice, she hated how conflicted she was feeling right now. She knew in her gut that she shouldn’t trust random people, that she was smarter than this, but deep inside, her heart was telling her the opposite. Go for it, have fun, see where it leads.

She lay in bed that night, cuddled up under the covers, feeling hungover and so much more worse than she had imagined. She had never drunk THIS much, but seeing Joe made her lose all self control. It was her way of dealing with the situation of not being able to get to know him, just drink it away, she thought. But that clearly hadn’t worked. 

I’ll see you around, his soothing voice echoed in a loop, haunting her mind for the rest of the night before she finally dosed off to sleep


They danced onto the balcony, away from the prying eyes of the ballroom. Hazel sighed happily, whispering more to herself than to Storm, “You make me feel…”

“How, Miss Grove? How do I make you feel?” he whispered in her ear, the warmth of his breath sending chills across her skin. His strong hand placed firmly on the small of her back sent wave after wave of fiery awareness up her spine. Being with Storm made her feel at once cold and hot at the same time, a mixture of sensations she wished to explore.

Storm held her closer, holding her tightly against his chest, “How do I make you feel, Miss Grove?”

Hazel looked into his eyes that were dark with temptation and desire. She wished to give in to that temptation here on the balcony, but knew better than to risk her reputation just outside the window of society. Yet she didn’t hesitate to answer, “You make me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

anonymous asked:

*whispers* fenhawke fic where she pampers and spoils fenris and he likes it/is kinda smug about it

She pulls the blanket around his shoulders, and he feels gentle fingers brush away his hair. She kisses the space she’s created, then gives him another, and another – a kiss for each dot on his forehead. Brushing thumbs against his cheekbones, giving him a smile as she straightens. He crosses his arms on the table, leans forward and watches her as she goes. Humming as she works, moving to the counter, and carefully chops carrots. The celery is already diced, and the oil is beginning to boil. Fenris rests his head in his arms, listening to the pop and hum of cooking vegetables.

Behind his eyelids, the world swims, and he only barely feels her hand slip through his hair. She pulls up a chair as she rubs circles on his back, her other hand on his arm as she leans forward. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, and yet still he wants more. “You should be in bed,” she tells him, “I can bring the soup to you as soon as it’s done.”

“No,” he grumbles. He listens to Hawke’s soft laughter, and she peppers his shoulder in kisses before she’s off to check on the soup. He lifts his head only slightly, peering through bangs to see her stir in tomatoes, salt and pepper. She tucks hair behind her ear as she takes a wet rag to the counter, cleaning knives and the chopping block, cleaning as she waits for the soup. She smiles when she catches him watching, when he lets his head drop yet again.

She presents a warm bowl, a handful of crackers. Resting an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, watching as he eats. He swallows as much of it as he can stomach, before it rumbles its displeasure. “Best not to push it,” she says as he lets the spoon rest in the bowl. “You can always have more later.” She stands and he stands with her, following her around the kitchen. He lets his head rest on her back, and she reaches back to scratch his head lightly.

He follows her like this to the study, curls up beside her on the couch. Resting his head on her lap as she runs her fingers through his hair, brushes them against his cheek. Making sure the blanket covers all of him, giving the tip of his ear an affectionate tweak. The sickness… well, perhaps it’s not that bad. It’s not that bad and yet – he snuggles in even further, closing his eyes as she opens the book. The sound of her voice is soothing, the warmth of her even more so.

This is not the first time he’s been sick since he came to Kirkwall. It is the first time someone else has known. She had insisted he stay with her, telling him “let me look after you.” He could have suffered this himself, on his own, without any great trouble. But she tells him to rest, brings him water and reads to him – makes him soup. He forces himself to sit up, her arm still draped around his shoulders, buries his face in the crook of his neck.

She puts the book down, holds him completely. He smiles, relaxes into her embrace. She’s murmuring quiet things, whispers of love, and kisses the crown of his head. No, it’s definitely not that bad, not bad at all.

“Many years ago a woman vanished suddenly from a Sligo tavern where she was walking with her husband. When her son, who was then a baby, had grown up he received word in some way, not handed down, that his mother was glamoured by faeries, and imprisoned for the time in a house in Glasgow and longing to see him. Glasgow in those days of sailing-ships seemed to the peasant mind almost over the edge of the known world, yet he, being a dutiful son, started away. For a long time he walked the streets of Glasgow; at last down in a cellar he saw his mother working. She was happy, she said, and had the best of good eating, and would he not eat? and therewith laid all kinds of food on the table; but, he knowing well that she was trying to cast on him the glamour by giving him faery food, that she might keep him with her, refused and came home to his people in Sligo.”

William Butler Yeats, from “Kidnappers” in Mythologies

Beatrice is a girl of many opposites. 

Her outlook defines her as a realist, yet she lives in The Unknown, a world that exists beyond the grasp of reality. She’s a liar, but she tells things the way they are.

She’s dainty and feminine in outward appearance, but aggressive and masculine in behavior. She’s simultaneously human and animal.

So, in conclusion:


It really was beautiful. It was summer still, the snows of winter a long distant memory now that the world was every shade of green, pink, yellow, gold. And yet it was still cold, the air still bit even as he hid under his thick armour, but he didn’t mind, she was all he needed. Her smile, her laughter, her orange hair set against an orange sunset. 

Cullen x Inquisitor, fluff without plot

Keep reading

Who Said It/Thought It?

Let’s play a game!  Below are quotes taken from different books.  Can you accurately guess who said/thought it, and what book it came from?  How recognizable are these for you?

1.  “I had to work up the nerve to approach you.  You’re very intimidating.”
2.  “I don’t really know where I fit in anymore.”
3.  “You’re worth waiting for.  And just for the record, the guy was crazy to let you leave.“
4.  But she had promised herself, months and months ago, that she would not pretend to be anything but what she was.
5.  Yet he understood that there are some things you feel and others that you choose to feel, and that the choice doesn’t make the feeling less valid.
6.  Didn’t they realize their lives were worth more than the dubious affection of one silly young man?  That there were things to do in a world that didn’t revolve solely around their heartbreak?
7.  “Do you think I’d want to be with anyone who didn’t hand my ass to me on a regular basis?”
8.  It was time to put an end to this thing that had never had a chance to begin.
9.  “She’s a survivor.  She didn’t let what you did to her wreck her.  A lot of people would have.”
10.  He couldn’t remember the last time somebody had touched him, and it was strangely grounding.

I didn’t tag any of them so as not to give them away.  

caffeinefaerie  asked:

So who is your Hawke living happily ever after with Anders? :) I see you reblog lots of Hawke/Anders stuff but I don't think I've seen your Hawke yet!

Oh yes


she is

she enjoys pina colatas, getting caught in the rain, and killing the fuck out of templars

and she also enjoys showing the world that she has bedecked Anders in red feathers and ribbons and that he is hers

she also likes wearing pant suits when she can get away with it

and staring at her beautiful revolutionary boyfriend, always staring at her beautiful revolutionary boyfriend.

you can find more of her under the “my hawke” tag or in my current longfic, Renegades, which is sitting at 100k words and counting and is aaaaalll about my Hawke and her relationship with her dear apostate.

anonymous asked:

look i know we talk about how in love jake is.....but also???? amy santiago is so in love???? it's so wild and the look in her eyes after the proposal literally killed me ok (both of them did but amy in particular)

Originally posted by nikkiiklebold

listen. my girl ames is so in love!!! she would wait 15 entire years if it meant being with jake!!! she’s been doing the Most, thinking about doing the whole Life/marriage/babies Thing with jacob, her soft and kind jacob, and you just know her mom’s been asking her a million times about whether he’s popped the question yet!!! and when he does, he’s right in front of her literally listing everything he loves abt her and it’s so overwhelming to hear because!!! this is her favourite person in the entire world saying these things!!! she’s imagined being proposed to countless times, as little girls do, yet she didn’t know love like this was possible before jake!!! it’s hard to comprehend that this is for reals realz but it is and he loves her butt and she loves his and i’m crying goodbye

they-told-me-i-couldnt  asked:

Her love for him was bittersweet, he was the center of her world, but she would be never his sun. She knows his name, favorite things, family, friends, and every little detail of him, yet he didn't know her face. He is her everything, but to him, she is simply just another fan...

Omg this is so beautiful? Yes? I love this! But it’s also so sad? Thanks for summarising my entire existence in three sentences 😂. Still, it’s great though!

“I saved it.”

((Continuation from the rescue of the fury, golden blob!))

Veth was sitting on the edge of his seat, figuratively of course, awaiting Petra’s detailed explanation of what in the world she was talking about when it came to murlocs, blood, and fur golden blob. And just as her lips parted to speak, and Veth leaned forward even more in anticipation of the words to follow, a ‘yip’ came from down the hall. Ears twitching and gaze darting to the open door, Veth sat in silence awaiting either yet another sound or a sight of what had made such a sound.

Petra broke the silence, stealing his gaze as she spoke of this golden blob he knew nothing about, only to be interrupted by two more ‘yips.’ Was that… barking? Veth looked back to the open door, then to Petra. Then the door. Then Petra. His lips formed the beginning of the word ‘what’, but never got farther than the ‘w’. Nothing made sense. Not the cut on her palm, not the blood on her robes, not the murloc, not the blob, and certainly not the barking coming from the other room of their home.

Petra continued to just look at him with that stupid expression and with a length sigh, she slumped her shoulders and looked a bit sheepish. “While you slept I went to relax on the beach a while and heard the murloc. And then I saw this fury, golden blob just… running from it. I… I killed it.” She brought her hand up, showing him the scab and lifted her vibrant blues hues to his fel-tainted ones.

“I sliced my hand with a sea shell to draw forth energy, to use it against the murloc. And it… died.” She said this simply without going into much detail of how she killed it. “So I ran after the little thing and…well…” her lips pursed and she curled her hand into her chest. That’s when a snuffling noise seemed to come from the other side of the threshold, as if something was sniffing around.

And then the most adorable, little sneeze happened. Petra was still staring wide eyed at Veth and soon, a little, golden puppy with floppy ears and a black nose poked its head around the corner and saw Petra, immediately yipping and yapping as it barreled toward the bed. It made a running jump….

And totally missed… falling on its back. It tried again… and again… and Petra looked over her shoulder, blinking at the creature that was also covered in her blood. Petra removed herself from Veth’s side and with a stony face expression, the puppy bounded over toward her with its tongue lolling out and jumped up into her hands as she bent down to snatch it up into her arms. It licked wildly at her face and Petra blanched, holding it out and away from her as if it were a vile little beast, its little hind legs beginning to kick wildly, happily.

Petra brought it over to Veth, cringing. “I saved it.”


The Goddess Behind the Veil

I swear by the Five that she was there.”
Who? Who was there?..”
The Goddess?! How could you be so sure?!”
It was her eyes…”

Allister slowly sat back in his chair as though his world begun to spin.
His lips played at the side of his own thumb, smoke trailing upwards from his lit cigarette. 
I tried to save her, but she didn’t want to be saved.”
He would have given his life for her in that moment.
All she had to do was whisper the words yet she did not speak.


Mutual Respect: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

The sports festival was eye opening for Y/N. She knew that UA was open to students who weren’t studying to be a hero, but she hadn’t known how many. Another thing that she had been incredibly blind to was the amount of students that had tried out for the hero program and hadn’t had made it. There were students here who wanted nothing more than to be a hero and yet some way or another the faculty had deemed them not worthy.

Watching Midoriya’s fight was like being introduced to a whole new world. His opponent was a kid from the general studies class, but there was a determination in his eye that she had seen countless times in the eyes of her classmates.

Shinso Hitoshi

He had been determined to show his worth even before the festival had started and he had definitely done that. It was no short feat reaching the top 16, even if he was eliminated after the first round. The fight was one sided, but his quirk really was something else. His speech was from the heart and moving. If nothing else, he was impressed her.

She watched from the sidelines as he walked out of the arena. Much to her surprise, and too his as well, his classmates were right there cheering him on and complimenting his quirk.

She didn’t know what came over her in that moment, but she couldn’t stop her feet.

“Hey, Shinso,” She said.

He turned to her and his dark eyes stopped her in her tracks. She instantly regretted her decision and considered how much more awkward it would be if she retreated her steps and acted like this had never happened. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the General Studies class boring into the back of her head. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and blurted out, “My name’s Y/N and I think your quirk is really cool and well, uh, my friends and I are throwing a party,” she gestured over her shoulders to where Momo and the others were gathered, “and, well, you’re all invited.”

Shinso remained silent and stared at her. She felt like a complete idiot. They hadn’t actually been planning a party and she had probably just bit off more than she could chew..

She turned to the rest of the General Studies class, “It’s our way of saying that not everyone in class 1A is a jerk. Everyone’s invited so please bring your friends.”

“That sounds cool,” one of the General Studies kids said.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Y/N said, “So we’ll see you after the festival.”

“Yeah, totally!”

Y/N wiped sweat from her brow and looked around the room. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best party set up ever, but it also wasn’t the worst. Somehow Y/N and the other girls had convinced the faculty to let them turn the cafeteria into a party room and they had rushed to gather what ever materials they could in the worse of an hour and a half.

“Tell me again why we’re throwing a party?” Momo asked.

“Because it’s great for class moral,” Y/N said putting the finishing on the banner.

“Okay, sure,” Momo said, “But what’s the real reason?”

“I made it up to get out of an awkward situation, okay?”

Before Momo could ask her anymore questions the guests started to arrive. The first of which were none other than 1A.

“This is great!” Kirishima yelled grabbing a fistful of chips and shoving them in his face,

The other classes started to show up shortly after that and she was happy to see that they were mingling peaceful amongst each other.

“Y/N,“  A voice said from behind.

She turned on her heels and her throat grew dry as she met the purple eyes of Shinso.

“It is Y/N, right?” He said.

“Uh, yeah-yeah, it is.” She said, “I hope you’re enjoying the party.”

“I wanted to say thanks for what you said earlier.”

“Oh!” She said, surprised, “I really meant it. I think it is a cool quirk and it could be really useful in sticky situations.”

Shinso grew quiet again. Maybe she had over spoke.

“Oh, yeah, Shinso, there was someone I wanted you to meet,” she said. She started off across the cafeteria, motioning for him to follow her. “There was a stipulation of us holding this party. We had to have at least one professor chaperone us and luckily for us, our professor agreed.”

She led him to the far corner of the cafeteria where the music wasn’t quiet as loud. Curled up in a yellow sleeping back was Aizawa, sound asleep.

She crouched down next to her professor, “Professor Aizawa,” she said.

He didn’t wake up.

She poked him, “Professor Aizawa, wake up.”

“What did we agree on, Y/N?” He said in a groggy voice, “The building better be on fire or somebody better be dead.”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.“ 

Aizawa reluctantly opened his eyes, “You’re the kid from the festival. The one who can control minds.”

“This is Shinso Hitoshi,” She said, “Shinso this is professor Aizawa. He can erase other people’s quirks. Professor, I was hoping that you could maybe give him some advice on how to master a non-physical quirk.”

“As long as I don’t have to do anything with the party,” Aizawa said.

“Great, thanks Professor.” She said, she bowed her head slightly, taking her leave, “Shinso.”

“Yeah, Y/N,” Shinso called back to her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, “Thanks.”

He had the slightest hint of a smile on her face. It was the first time she saw him smile during the whole festival. She returned his smile and wished him luck. Maybe if he was lucky, Aizawa would help him achieve his dream of being a hero.

her blood is made of molten, turning her insides into lava as it hits the outside air, ready to burn the world alive, she is a volcano 

she contains all of the beauty and fury of mother earth, when she digs her heels in stamped with rage, she is an earthquake 

she whips words like a gale, gushing ideas spinning in her mind, her voice blowing winds of winding dispatch into the open air, when she is flowing furiously, she is a hurricane 

in silver moonlight her heart is like the seas, tides of emotion, volatile, ever changing yet constant, a placid mirror turning as she pulls the moon closer, she becomes a tsunami

her glare is so bright that sun spikes form around her mind, like a crown, she draws in solar light and casts it into the air, she is a solar flare 

minerals of earth circulate in her, mixing healing maples, nervous energy blends to create contamination, when she is enraged and spits her disdain at the world, she is a pandemic 

in perfect balance she spins the world on its axis, keeping equilibrium and harmony aligned composing seasons and tides, when she is broken and has lost sight, she is climate change 

waves crash together and freeze fixed in time, she burrows deeper below the snow, stirring from the dark hollow inside, she is an avalanche 

flames dance around her fingertips infusing with the billowing smoke from her higher mind, when she starts burning she is a wildfire 

icy saturn rings circle around her silver crown, from the mountain peak she dwells alchemising all natural material, when she turns her mood she spins and throws the frozen snow, she is a hail storm 

thunder roars in her mind and ideas crackle like flashing lights, silver lasers beaming from her crystal eyes, it all becomes too furious when the world is too slow, she is a lightning storm

she walks on sea level conducting the tides, a belle of the water swimming through earthly life, when she becomes wounded she wants to go under and bring the whole world with her, to drown them, she is a great flood 

Rachel Amber is the fire that Chloe needs to stay away from



I love Amberprice. I will defend it til the very end. Would I fall for someone like Rachel Amber? Yes. Would I like to be friends with someone like Rachel Amber? Absolutely. Would I date Rachel Amber? No. Absolutely not. Not because of how smashy she gets when she’s angry, but because of how the tiny traits about her tips me off the wrong way.

Am I sure she really likes Chloe? No. Do I think she’s manipulating Chloe? Yes. Does Rachel’s actions and reactions to Chloe’s doubt to running away bother me?… 

Hella yes. 

It VERY much bothered me.

I’d like to go back to this conversation:

They’re talking about Rachel. Hands down, that’s what I sincerely believe.

The first time you meet Rachel is intense. It’s like fire. It’s bright, and warm, and exhilarating. Rachel burns like fire. Brightly, and she’s the center of attention.

She becomes the center of Chloe’s attention.


She burns so brightly that the darkness of Chloe’s life is completely engulfed in this. I can’t find a video where Chloe says it, but in my play through, on the first episode, while talking to Joyce during breakfast, Chloe basically goes: We make bad choices when we’re dealing with losing someone. She’s basically judging her mother for choosing David so soon after she lost William.

Sound familiar?

Who else lost William, as well as a best friend, and started hanging out with the wrong crowd and making awful decisions in life?

So, if you eliminate fire. If you eliminate that bright bright light… what do you see?


Chloe doesn’t want that. She just wants to see…. Rachel provides her light. a direction. But perhaps that direction becomes too blinding and painfully burning as Chloe gets closer to it. That’s why, by the end of the episode, Chloe is so hesitant with leaving with Rachel. Chloe felt the warmth of the fire, but as she edges closer, she has to recoil for a moment because that fire is burning her. Eventually she gives in, after a promise.

Something solid – the bracelet

Something permanent – a tattoo

Something passionate – a kiss

Lesbi-honest… MOST of us, chose the most NON concrete way to make a promise: a kiss. We, as Chloe’s players, are pushing Chloe into the fire.

But here’s the thing, let’s jump ahead a little bit in the future okay?

 Chloe loses Rachel anyway. She loses her fire. A very bright fire that she has been staring at for a while now. She’s back in darkness, but the fire left a mark on her. It didn’t burn her. It left that weird shape in her eyes that happens when one stares too long at something bright.

But slowly and surely, she starts seeing clearer. And in darkness.. what do you see when you look up?


Fire that shine billions of light years away. Safe to watch, untouchable, yet they’re still so beautiful. They give direction. If one knows how to read stars, you will know where to go just by using them

Who else is miles away? Who else is untouchable?

It’s a bit of a reach, but Max could have been that greater beauty. 

A more logic reach is the end of Life is Strange (original), where Chloe realizes that she has been so focused on the fire (Rachel) and the hazy orb that the fire left (Rachel’s disappearance), that she failed to see the other beauty of her world (her mother, blackwell, Eliot (he’s a really good kid), Steph, Mikey, and maybe even David because he does have some lessons that make sense)

But Rachel isn’t just what made Chloe miss the finer things in her life… The darkness around her was dark enough that she couldn’t see….

So dark that she couldn’t see directions.

So how was she to know that looking up was all she needed to see the dim lights in her sky? How was she to know when Rachel Amber was this wildfire that gave her warmth but also misdirection?