creative leaning

Perfect

Prompt:  hi yes i am having a Time right now, and I’d love to see some romantic polyamsanders fluff – hugging, snuggling, kissing, goofing around, taking care of each other, cooking, anything will do, please (and you write fluff so well anyway) <3 - @backatthebein

Notes: I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, sweetie! I hope this lil’ rambling piece of fluff helps. <3 

CW: Mostly fluff, mild allusions to romantic activities, mild self-doubt

Pairing(s): Polyamsanders (romantic)

Virgil wasn’t sure how it was going to work. Truth be told, at first, he didn’t think it could. 

Romance was hard enough when it was just two people. Three and it got weird, but four? Forget it. There was no way. There’d be jealousy, or hurt feelings, or they’d eventually realize they each had a favorite and break off into smaller couplings again (and given that one member of their little quartet was him, the smart money said that meant there’d end up being a love triangle, because no way in heck was he going to end up being anyone’s favorite. They were probably barely tolerating him as it was). 

But to his utter shock, that didn’t happen. 

As the first exhilarating weeks began to slip into a more comfortable routine, the mundanity Virgil had been bracing for never really arrived. Instead, something else happened–something so impossible that, to Virgil, it bordered on magical. 

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I wonder if ramone made the executive decision to put lightning back in his older style paint job rather than the design he was in when he wrecked. I wonder if it was on purpose, if he thought it would be some sort of sick reminder. I wonder if he himself didn’t ever wanna see that paint job again, and knew no one else would either, least of all lightning.

Welcome to My World

Ok… So i tried to write a little Prinxiety… But I don’t know. If i need to add more tags please let me know, i’m not sure exactly the etiquette for things like this.

Pairing: Prinxiety, Logicality (literally half a millisecond)

Warnings: Badly written short panic attack

Tagging - @twentyoneparades-to-panic-at @helpaca (<— these two sorta gave me the prompt, sorry if i didn’t do very well) @de-is-me @authordreaming13 @introverts-assemble @lilylunalovegood2002 @musicwitchthomas

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Prinxiety: I’m A Real Vampire!

Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to get written, but this is for @justanotherpurplebutterfly, who requested I write, “I’m a real vampire!” for Prinxiety! I really hope you like this one! And I will be working on your other prompt as well! And to everyone else, I really hope you like it too, so please enjoy! :D


Virgil had no idea what in the all mighty world was going on with Roman. Ever since Halloween had passed, the Creative side seemed even more prepared to spook the living soul out of him, even though their favorite holiday had passed. Sitting on the couch of their mindscape, Virgil curled up and let his body fall, closing his eyes as the music from his headphones covering his ears lulled him into a sense of security. What the side didn’t know, however, was that Roman was also up to no good in his own room. Putting in the false vampire teeth, and grinning at himself in the mirror, Roman slowly stepped out of his room, and quietly shut the door. Walking down the stairs as silently as he could, the Creative side walked towards the couch, hoping Virgil’s acute sense wouldn’t alert him of his presence. Noticing the Anxious side had his headphones on, and his eyes closed, Roman grinned mischievously as he began to launch his playful attack.

                       “I want to suck your blood!” he shouted, leaping over the couch, and landing perfectly on Virgil as he stuffed his face in the other’s neck. Shrieking at the sudden weight and mouth near his neck, Virgil felt his fight or flight response kicking in as he fought to get out of whoever was pinning him and apparently trying to, ‘suck his blood.’ Opening his eyes, Virgil groaned as took in Roman’s prince outfit. Of course…it just had to be Sir Sing-A-Lot. Opening his eyes wider as he felt something poking at his neck, Virgil put a hand over his mouth as a chuckle almost escaped him from the odd feeling. “Aren’t you scared? I’m a real vampire!”

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rn i’m reading “weird in a world that’s not: a career guide for misfits, fuckups, and failures” by jennifer romolini and it’s so deeply and intensely validating and such a reminder that as chaotic as the #FreelanceLife is, and as broke as i am, it would absolutely be a mistake to get scared about money and start applying for stable 9 to 5 entry-level office jobs again, like… she writes,

unless you are independently wealthy or the recipient of some sweet nepotism or both, in these early years of your career, working extra hours, keeping your professional irons in multiple fires, working, not just playing, at the side hustle, is the only strategy i know to get through a tight job market and keep yourself on a path to success. this is especially true if you’re lacking a conventional pedigree, you’re an odd fit and you don’t look/sound/seem like the rest, and you’re trying to break into a competitive and/or creative field… lean on each and every one of your connections and gain experience wherever and whenever you can. this process does not have to be demoralizing. you might be broke, but you’re free. your career is a scavenger hunt and an adventure. follow what interests you; say yes to everything that seems intriguing. this time is about you - not your parents, not your future partners or potential children. it’s about being nimble, discovering and getting what you want, and investing in your future. this period of your career may feel exhausting, but if you keep going, if you stay hopeful and don’t stagnate, it can also be exhilarating… eventually, if you stay focused and think strategically, if you take it step by step and bit by bit, you can force your paying-the-bills work and the work you love to merge. eventually, you will catch a break. eventually you will control the chaos, and this will all feel less crazy.

MariChat May Day 5: CopyCat

Yes, yes I know I was supposed to do batons.  But I needed to switch things up a bit, so humor me, please?

This is for @seasonofthegeek!  You’re a creative power house, and your frequent updates are making what is already a pretty shitty month a whole hell of a lot better.


Thwack!  The lump of dough slammed back into the floured counter top, only to be lifted and turned and slammed down once again.   Flour dusted everything within a meter radius of where she stood.  Chat raised a brow at his irate friend, but he rather thought that in her ranting, she’d forgotten that he was sitting there.

“Unprincipiled,” she muttered angrily.

 Thwack!

“…ethically-challenged…”

 Thwack!

“…uninspired…”  

 Thwack!

“…amoral….”

 Thwack!

“…smarmy…”

 Thwack!

“…obnoxious…”

 Thwack!

…thieving copy-cat!”

“Leave the cats out of it, Princess!”

“I just—aargh!”

 THWACK!

“Th-that oily sack of flour had the nerve to come in to our store and insult my Papa!” Marinette pounded her fist into the innocent dough furiously.  “And this was after that swine stole our recipes!  Our secret family recipes!! ”

Chat leaned forward on the counter, propping his chin in one gloved hand.   “Ok, I get the insult thing, and that’s bad enough.  But how do you know he stole your recipes?”

“He’s offering the exact same menu that we do.”  She threw her hands up in the air wildly, adding more flour to the cloud around her.  “What kind of slime ball opens an identical shop just a few blocks away from the first, and offers the exact same menu, but cheaper?”

“That doesn’t mean he stole them, though.”

“Well, he still copied our menu.”  She went back to working the dough with another emphatic thwack.  “And he still insulted Papa.”  Thwack.

“What can you do about it?”

“Nothing.”  Thwack.  “Except wait for people to realize that his technique is abysmal—thwack—and his ingredients are inferior—thwack—and to come back here where they belong.”  Thwack.

“Hmm. I suppose that’s something, at least.”  Chat eyed the dough thoughtfully.  “Didn’t you tell me once that you’re not supposed to over-work the dough?”

“Better I overwork this dough than his stupid—thwack—doughy—thwack—face!”   She slammed the dough down one last time, and then buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Princess?”  Chat was unprepared for the abrupt shift from fury to tears.  He stood from his bar stool and rounded the counter to wrap his arms around her shaking body, pressing her face (hands and all) into his chest.   “Marinette?  Dieu, don’t cry.”

“B-but what if his stupid bakery puts our bakery out of business?  What if people confuse the two bakeries and think that we’re the ones who suck?  What if—”  She broke off abruptly and looked up at his face in consternation.  “Chat Noir, are you laughing?”

“No.”  He snickered.  “Maybe.  You’re just so creative in the things that you worry about.”

“Creative?”  She leaned away from him, narrowing her eyes dangerously.   “Creative?  If we lose this bakery my family—“

“You’re not going to lose the bakery, Mari.”  She opened her mouth to argue and he shook his head, speaking over her.  “You won’t.   This is one of the most popular bakeries in Paris, and your loyal customers are not going to suddenly forget where you are.  I don’t blame you for being upset, but I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

She blew out a breath and dropped her head forward onto his chest.  “I suppose you’re right.  And it’s not like worrying would do any good anyway.”

“Nope.”  He pulled her close again, and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you Chat.”  She wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed gently.  “Thanks for listening to my ranting, and…for being here.”

He squeezed back.  “That’s what knights are for, Princess.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, still holding one another.  Marinette sighed happily, and nuzzled a little closer to Chat.

“Besides, I want to be the only one getting a rise out of you.”

“Aaannnd you ruined it.”  She pushed away from him with a groan.  “Don’t make me throw you out, after you were so sweet.”

He grinned unrepentantly.  “Don’t go indulging any half-baked ideas, Princess.”

“Out!”

“You know you loaf me.”

“Unh, Chat!  You’re ridiculous!”

“Yes, but now you’re smiling.”

A Monster & A Thief

The fox wasn’t like anything Clawsimodo had ever seen (though to be fair he hadn’t seen much of anything ever). The cheetah had mistaken him as a vixen for first, accidentally tumbling into a tent to find him in a dress. Clawsimodo had felt guilty and embarrassed and hiding his face as he mumbled several apologies.
And then the fox had smiled, emerald eyes warm with friendliness. “Try to be a little more careful, hm.” And he had sent Clawsimodo on his way, leaving the cheetah absolutely star struck.
But the feeling that was both warm and fluttering had quickly been ripped away from him when he was named the King of Fools publicly humiliated after.
In the chaos of mocking laughter, the pain from being pelted with miscellaneous items, he begged for his Master Bellwether to set him free.
The sheep did nothing.
But still the laughter suddenly died, Clawsimodo looked up to see the fox standing above him and looking at the cheetah as if he had never seen him before. Clawsimodo tried to hide his face, shameful tears escaping his closed eyes.
“I’m sorry,” the fox breathed. He knelt before the cheetah, using a handkerchief to wipe the rotten fruit and vegetables off the cheetah’s face. He did so with no hesitation, no sense of disgust. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Bellwether had been furious with the fox but he wasn’t fazed in the slightest, instead escaping the soldiers that were told to sic ‘em. But Clawsimodo’s relief over his escape was overshadowed by Bellwether’s anger and the disgust of the people as he quietly vowed to never go outside again.
.
But not even an hour later, as he walked through the towers of Notre Dame, he heard a familiar voice. He followed it in an almost desperate manner, reaching the church floor where he quickly hid behind a column.
And there he was.
The red fox was lying on the stone floor, eyes up at the towering ceiling. Beside him was a much smaller sandy colored fox pacing back and forth with an angry expression. He was wearing a strange outfit that reminded Clawsimodo of a goat.
“What a fine mess you got us in this time, Wilde,” the small fox growled. “A real fu-”
“Ah, ah,” the red fox waggled his finger in a disapproving matter. “Remember what Cottontail said: we’re in a church, watch your language.”
The small fox snarled, “We’re trapped in here, Nick. That crazy sheep wants our heads.”
The red vulpine, Nick, sat up. His expression was one of thought with an edge of wary. “I think she wants something else.”
Clawsimodo swallowed, he knew first hand how terrifying Bellwether was. He guessed her pursuit was more relentless than he had originally thought if she had forced the two foxes to claim sanctuary.
By the big-warred one’s expression that hunch was right on the money, the poor thing looked ready to tear his fur out. By Nick’s bristling tail he was just as bothered by his friend, he was just hiding it better.
“Finnick,” Nick breathed, “Lets-” His words cut off as his eyes suddenly spotted Clawsimodo besides the pillar. The cheetah let out a soft yelp.
Nick’s ears twitched, his head tilted to the side, “Hey.”
But Clawsimodo had already whirled around and ran back up stairs.
“Wait, I wanna talk to you!”
“Wilde, where are you going!”
To the cheetah’s horror the two fox’s were chasing after him, and they were much faster than him. Still he reached the top of the bell tower before he felt something grab his tail. “Woah, hang on, hang on,” Nick insisted, releasing Clawsimodo’s tail when he stopped.
“S-sorry,” Clawsimodo took a few steps back, hugging his arms around himself.
“Why are you apologizing?” Nick’s brow furrowed. “That’s what I’m here to do.”
Clawsimodo’s eyes widened at the fox whose smile was apologetic and sincere. “I didn’t mean to drag you onto the stage like that. I mean, if I had known…” Nick’s paw started to indicate to Clawsimodo before quickly pulling his paw back. “I’m sorry.”
The feline smiled awkwardly, “It’s okay.”
“My name is Nick,” he introduce and nodded to the fox behind him. “This is my partner in crime, Finnick.”
“Hi,” Clawsimodo greeted softly, expecting the foxes to leave.
Instead they looked around the room he called his own. “Do you live here?” Nick asked.
Clawsimodo nodded shyly, feeling embarrassed by the state of the room and wishing he had tidied it up. Finnick had walked over to a table to study the figurines, “What are these?”
“O-oh, these are nothing!” Clawsimodo hurried over, his skin blushing under his fur. “Just a hobby.”
Nick had walked over to see the small statues of the townsfolk, his eyes glittered at the sight. “You made all of these?”
Clawsimodo tried for a nonchalant shrug, “I dabble.”
“These are amazing,” Nick smiled, picking up and observing the statue of a baker. “Oh boy if I could do this…you wouldn’t see me dancing on the street for coins.”
The words made Clawsimodo frown, “But you’re so good at dancing.”
Nick smiled coyly at him, “It keeps bread on the table.”
Finnick snorted and rolled his eyes at the pair before turning his attention to the tavern the cheetah had built.
“So what’s your name, Spots?” Nick asked, smoothly waving his tail back and forth.
His answer was a barely comprehensible murmur, “Clawsimodo.”
“Creative,” Nick purred. He leaned up and looked around, “So besides crafts what else do you do for fun?”
“Not much,” Clawsimodo cringed, “I mainly just ring the bells. I’m the bell ringer.”
Nick’s ears perked, “Bells?”
His interest made Clawsimodo brighten, “Yeah! Do you want to see them?”
“Sure we would, right Finnick?”
The smaller fox wore an artificial smile, “Nothing would bring me more pleasure.”
With Finnick clinging to Nick’s back like a baby Clawsimodo led them throughout the bell tower, introducing them to all of the bells.
“This is Angel…and Sweet-Sweet…and Little Junior…and Big Junior.”
They stopped before the largest bell, Clawsimodo’s secret favorite. “This is Summer, she’s the oldest.” He smiled when Nick slipped into the inner side of the bell and howled a hello, his voice echoing through the gold chamber. Finnick hissed in anger and tried to cover his too big ears.
Clawsimodo peeked out from under the rim of the bell, “She liked you.”
Nick chuckled, fangs showing as he grinned. “Got anything else?”
Clawsimodo led them away from the bells and up to the roof of Notre Dame, the sky a pleasant plum as afternoon turned to night. “My room may be small but you can’t deny the view,” Clawsimodo smiled.
Nick and Finnick had gone silent, eyes wide and in awe as they sat down and looked at the vast setting with starving expressions.
“This is beautiful,” Nick breathed while Clawsimodo sat down next to him. “I could stare at this forever.”
“Whatever, it’s okay,” Finnick muttered though was obviously very impressed.
“You could,” Clawsimodo said softly. “Stay here, I mean.”
Nick quickly shook his head, “No, no, there’s no way.”
“But you could,” Clawsimodo reminded. “You have sanctuary.”
Finnick threw out a rude laugh that rewarded him with a rude glare from Nick. “Go sit over there,” he pointed to a spot a few feet away. “Go sit and mind your own business.”
Finnick walked off with a snarky smirk.
Nick sighed and turned back to Clawsimodo, “We didn’t want to claim sanctuary, honestly it feels more like we’re trapped.” Clawsimodo pouted and Nick explained, “We’re used to the open air, to traveling. We don’t work well with a closed door and four walls.”
“You mean like the other mammals at the Festival of Fools?” Clawsimodo asked. “But they’re not anything like you. They’re evil.”
To the cheetah’s dismay Nick’s hackles rise. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m sorry-I’m sorry! It’s just… I was always told they were cutthroats and thieves.”
Nick relaxed but still didn’t look overly pleased. “I was chased out of my home town because of all the things I stole.”
Clawsimodo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “But you’re so nice.
Nick’s smile was pained, "There are mammals much nicer than me. So, whose been telling you all this evil animal talk?”
“My master…” Clawsimodo hugged himself. “Master Bellwether. She raised me.”
Nick’s snout curled in distaste, “How could that wool-wearing donkey raise someone as nice as you?”
“Oh she’s very kind,” Clawsimodo quickly assured. “She took me in when I was abandoned as a baby.”
“Abandoned?” Nick echoed.
“My parents didn’t want me because I’m a monster.”
“Did Bellwether tell you that?”
“Look at me.”
There was a long moment of silence. Clawsimodo guessed Nick was looking at him and finally realized how ugly Clawsimodo was. He and Finnick would leave and never look back and he’d be alone again. But that was nothing new.
“Give me your paw.”
Clawsimodo didn’t hesitate, offering his paw which Nick took with both of his, turning the cheetah’s paw palm up.
“Hmm…” the fox hummed thoughtfully, running his claw across the pad of Clawsimodo’s palm. “Interesting.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, I’m reading your palm and I see the usual things like you’ll have a long life but…apparently something’s missing.”
“What is it?” he panicked.
Nick released his paw and shrugged, “I’m sorry Spots, I don’t see any monster lines. And the paw doesn’t lie.”
He looked at his paw, feeling like he had never truly seen it until now. No monster lines…
Nick showed his paw to Clawsimodo. “Now check me, do I have any evil lines?”
The cheetah balked, “No of course not! You’re the nicest mammal I’ve ever met!”
“I’m also a fox, one that used to make a living by stealing. And I think Bellwether’s wrong about the both of us.”
The words made Clawsimodo smile softly, he couldn’t necessarily agree with Nick opinion of Bellwether but…he was pretty sure he had just made his first friend.
“Niiick,” Finnick’s groan interrupted the quiet. The small fox was lying on his back and glaring at the stars. “Can we leave yet?”
Clawsimodo looked between the two. “I can get you out of here.”
Nick and Finnick stared at him. “What?” Nick breathed. “How, the doors are all guarded.”
Clawsimodo stood up, “I know every inch of this place. I can carry you two down the wall, they won’t see you.”
Finnick’s jaw dropped, “You’re insane.”
Nick jumped to his feet, “Let’s try it.”
.
Judy had slipped back into the church when Bellwether had left only to see the dancing fox no where in sight. She should’ve just left right then, why was it any of her business? So what if this fox was strange, and interesting, and handsome…why did she care?
Still she found herself slipping upstairs to keep looking. She had forced those two foxes to claim sanctuary. She felt responsible for what happened to them here.
Judy’s excellent heading picked up voices from above her head and somehow found herself on the roof. Taking a moment to still her shaking legs (curtesy of the great heights), and walked as close as she dared to the edge.
Just in time to see the two foxes reach the bottom of Notre Dame. Her eyes widened as she watched the two talk to the hunchback from the festival, and then they ran off into the dark of the streets, vanishing from sight.
Safe.
The deformed cheetah nearly had a heart attack when he climbed back onto the roof and saw Judy standing there.
“You saved them,” she breathed, surprised.
The cheetah than growled and moved toward her in a threatening stance. “Go away!”
Judy jumped back, several feet, “Wait, wait hold on!”
“You can’t be here! It’s sanctuary! No soldiers are allowed!”
“I just wanted to check on them,” Judy reassured him. “I don’t mean them any harm!”
He snorted but didn’t step any closer, “Go away.”
“I promise I will, but I need you to do me a favor. Please, if he comes back tell him I’m sorry. Can you do that?”
The cheetah’s eyes narrowed and he was silent for a moment.
“Please?”
“If you go, now.”
Judy sighed in relief and turned to walk back down into the building. She stopped at the last second and turned around, “Also tell him he’s lucky.”
The cheetah’s confusion could almost be described as adorable. “Why?”
“I have good instincts when it comes to mammals,” Judy explained. “So I can tell he’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Vanilla (NSFW)

Okay so I changed this request a little bit because I honestly think that Gray’s first reaction would be some sort of panic attack. Also, this is a bit less fluffy than the smut I’ve written for this blog thus far. Nothing that I think is triggering but there is less romance if you will. Hope you still enjoy it, nonnie. Thank you for waiting!

Originally posted by clubeskimo

Gray couldn’t help but replay the night before in his mind. It had been one of those work nights that leeched into the early hours of the morning. The ones when he got caught up in his work and you felt compelled to bring his dinner to the office while it was still hot. Even serving  his plate before your own so that you could be sure he ate properly.

A pang of guilt hit Gray as he watched your efforts. He could tell by how slowly your were repacking the food containers after eating together that you didn’t want to leave him. But work was work. Experience had taught you both that it was better to leave each other be during his creative process. Reluctantly, you leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you left. That’s when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Break room asap. Emergency movie night. - Hoody

“I guess I’m not leaving yet.”

“I’ll pick you up when I’m done,” Gray smiled up at you from his office chair. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Translation: at least another hour”, you thought to yourself.

You met Hoody a few months after moving to Seoul. Looking back you knew how critical of a time she came into your life. Seoul was all around an adjustment for you. You had hated it despite your best efforts and it was a rare night when you came home without immediately flopping on the bed to cry. You told yourself that you were being dramatic. That you were finally a “responsible adult” and you weren’t going to ruin it by running away from your job and apartment.

On a particularly desperate night, you ordered carryout from the ramen shop three blocks away just for an excuse to get some exercise. The city at night was a different brand of beautiful. The streetlamps left an eerie yellow haze on the pavement. Everything had an unsteady stillness to it as if the streets were ready to burst into life at any moment.

The nights were just starting to get cold and you hugged your oversized sweater closer to you as you rounded the corner. Ahead you saw a couple arguing so you turned the volume in your headphones down so that you could eavesdrop.

“Baby don’t be like this,” he said.

“I told you we’re through!”

“We’re through when I saw we’re through.”

The woman pushed him away from her and tried to walk away but he followed.

“What are you going to do? Call your boys on me? I wonder how much you’ll have to fuck them as a thank you.”

He was just about to grab her wrist to yank her back from the club door when you interrupted.

“Excuse me!” You said, launching into your well-rehearsed foreigner routine. “My Korean isn’t very good but could you tell me how to get to Line 7 please?”

Both of them momentarily lost their composure and stared back at you with shocked expressions.

“You deal with this bitch,” he spat at her as he walked away.

When he was out of sight, you turned back to see the woman visibly shaken. She was frantically wiping away at her running mascara while stifling a sob.

“Line 7 you said?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you answered in perfect Korean. “I just wanted to help.”

“I guess that makes you my hero,” she said giving you a weak laugh.

“I could get used to being called that.”

In truth, you never wanted to stop being her hero because from that day on Seoul didn’t seem so terrible. You were fast friends. Constantly spending your free time together though it took her a while to introduce you to the AOMG crew. She was as protective of them as they were of her which you could respect. And you knew that you owed everything that you had built with Gray to her which is why he barely flinched at your spur of the moment movie nights.

“Translation: bitch session”

A couple hours later and Gray had hit a metaphorical wall with composing. He rubbed his eyes in frustration before shutting his laptop for the night.

He could hear your giggles even before he opened the break room door. You and Hoody were curled up on opposite ends of the couch sipping on spiked hot chocolate.

“I knew this movie was going to be good.”

“You didn’t lie.”

You raised your glasses towards one another in mutual congratulations before taking a long sip.

“The sex scene was a little disappointing though,” she said.

Gray felt his ears burn red. The sudden realization that he shouldn’t be hearing the rest of this conversation, that maybe he should have knocked first, hit him hard. But there was a part of him which wouldn’t allow him to move that was anxious to hear your reply.

“It was a little vanilla for my taste. Relied too much on the emotion.”

“Exactly! I’m glad somebody understands. It doesn’t always have to be about feelings.”

“But I guess that works for some people.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

Hoody gave an exaggerated wink which sent you both into another fit of giggles. Gray, on the other hand, was left with more questions than he preferred running through his mind. Was he “vanilla”?  Or were you simply at the point where all sex becomes vanilla? Were you going to get bored of him?

                                                      _______


He nearly jumped when you slid one of your legs over him to straddle his lap.

“Earth to Sunghwa.” You couldn’t help but smile at his startled face. He got so engrossed in his own thoughts whenever there was an album coming up that you’d grown used to it. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him about it from time to time. “There’s my favorite space cadet.”

“Sorry, jagi. Were you saying something?”

“Nothing important but what’s gotten into you? You’ve been like this all day.”

He massaged circles with his thumbs on the small of your back which made you shiver. He tilted his chin up, a subtle demand for a kiss which you happily obliged.

“Tell me I’m not boring,” he said.

“Of course you’re not.”

You felt his shoulders relax a little at your response. It broke your heart to think he could believe such a thing. You wanted to make him feel appreciated.

You fiddled with the button on his pants and pulled them down just enough to better grind yourself over his erection. Gray let his head fall back on the couch cushion with a moan as you found your rhythm. You leaned your upper body against his chest and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“You could never bore me, Sunghwa.”

Your voice came out more taunting than you had intended and Gray snapped his head back up. He stood without warning, hoisting you up with him by your hips, and hurried down the hallway to your bedroom.

“I need you to prove it.”

He laid you down on the bed, tearing back the covers with his free hand in the process. You struggled to get your jeans off quickly while Gray rummaged through your dresser drawers. He stopped you as you were pulling the shirt over your head and gently pressed you back down to the mattress with your eyes still covered.

“You’re going to have to trust me. Can you do that?”

His fingers traced up your sides where he knew you were ticklish just to watch you squirm. You nodded eagerly, your breathing growing heavier with anticipation as Gray turned his attention back to his search.

The next time you felt him, his fingers were sliding underneath the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasped only to hear his quiet chuckle not far from your ear. He slipped two fingers inside you and slowly circled them near your entrance to stretch you out.

You groped blindly to find him. You wanted to feel him beside you and pull his mouth against your own to muffle the moans that were welling inside of you.

Gray watched you writhe under his touch. Your body switching from panting to begging as you came closer. Your thigh muscles began to twitch, a sign which Gray knew meant you were on the verge, and he pulled his fingers out immediately.

“No fair,” you whined.

“Patience.”

Gray nibbled at your jawline and collarbone until your heartbeat slowed. Once you had calmed down enough, you felt something press firmly against your clit. You went rigid and your mind struggled to put the pieces together as to what it could be.

“Gray,” you said softly. “What were you looking for earlier?”

“The thing is, jagi, I know more than you think I do.”

He gave you a chaste kiss just as he turned your hidden vibrator on to the lowest setting. Your entire body shuttered. Your nails pressed harder into Gray’s back. You crossed your legs reflexively and turned towards Gray as if that would make the delicious agony stop. Instead, he shifted further down the bed to pull your knees apart so he could slip his fingers back inside of you.

“Gray!”

Every time you cried his name made his fingers move faster. And every time you got close he would stop completely. He increased the vibrator’s speed with each round until you were utterly spent. Your pleas for release no longer coherent.

He took your blindfold off for the last round. Your legs hooked over his shoulder to give him a better angle as his thrust inside of you. Every muscle responded to his movement as if he had complete control over your body. Each time he went deep enough that his hips rubbed your clit reduced you to a moaning mess and he kissed you just as you came together.

                                                    _______ 


Your phone rang while you were still cradled against Gray’s chest. There was a brief moment when neither of you wanted to acknowledge it. You just didn’t have the energy but Gray retrieved it for you when your text reminder sounded.

You free?- Hoody

You looked over your shoulder at Gray who was spooning you.

“Am I free?”

“For now,” he teased.

I’m free. What’s up?

He’s being an ass again…and I’m hungry - Hoody

The usual spot. Be there in 20.

Saw - James March x Reader

Request: James March watches Saw.


It was the night before your boyfriend James’ birthday and you were settled on the couch in your suite, getting ready to watch a movie.

“What are you doing, darling?” James asked, walking into the room and raising an eyebrow.

You were wearing your robe, curled up with a bowl of popcorn that Liz had sent up for you. “I’m about to watch a movie, would you like to join me?”

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anonymous asked:

Can I ask for a scenario with near, L, mello and light where they notice their s/o doing a habit they usually do? (E.g hair twirling for near, putting thumb on lip for L, etc). Sorry if my request is unclear, or wasn't phrased very well. Love this blog, you're doing great~!

Of course! I hope you like it~ Thank you !! 

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