Do you think you could do a sweet Pale one (as sweet as your Pale can get, we love him and his grouchy butt) and the line “I always kiss you on your cheek...” from the friends to lovers prompt. You don’t have to make it friends to lovers since we know how they really met, I just think it’s very in his character to ask why the hell they’re all bashful now. Thank you babes!!!!!!!!!
1.1k, post-sex fluff
Pale’s lighting up a cigarette, when the sun starts streaming in through the window for the first time of the day. You’re both awake still, somehow, even though you’re exhausted from a night of long, filthy sex, although you’re only just. Pale’s lightin’ up with his eyes half closed, reclined back in bed, his arms foldin’ behind his head with a satisfied groan as he stretches out some of the muscles in his legs.
You follow suit, and with the few ounces of energy you’ve got left, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering where the hell the night went.
“Fuck, you’re good.” You say to break the silence. Not that it’s uncomfortable, but just because you’ve got that warm feeling your chest that only your VSOP gives you, and you want him to know it.
“Yeah?” Quirking an eyebrow down at you, he scoops you up with one of his arms, pulls you tight against his chest. He’s tugged on a white t-shirt and was going to suggest you do the same, but the sight of your bare body is too good for him to pass up. He gives you a pinch and smirks, “You sure ‘bout that? I haven’t lost my touch in my old age or nothin’?”
“No way.” You grin at the insinuation, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek before settlin’ back down onto his chest, “In fact I think you just keep gettin’ better and better.”
Normally, Pale would be real quick to get his hands on you, real quick to shoot some comment back at you, but in this moment, he’s quiet. Pale was almost never quiet, so when his snarky remark doesn’t come, you wonder if you’ve said something wrong. Especially when you see the look on his face -- his eyes cast aside, mouth pressed into a thin line, jaw workin’ like he’s angry, like he’s upset.
“What’s the matter with you?” You sit up immediately, fear and worry creepin’ up into your chest, but he averts his gaze, doesn’t meet your eye.
“Nothing.” He shrugs, and there -- oh! You see it then, in the tips of his ears, the flush creepin’ up onto his neck, the redness across his nose.
“Oh my god, are you blushing?” You’re so stunned by the sight of it that you don’t really know how to react, surprised more than anythin’ else. You’ve never seen Pale blush, he wasn’t really that kinda guy, too tough for all of that.
“Shut the fuck up, I said it’s nothing.” Pale snaps, and when he faces you to snap it, you see the deep crimson on his cheeks, and your heart melts.
Immediately, you’re sitting up and straddling his hips, your hands cupping his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. He’s embarrassed, shy, and fuck, you didn’t think you’d ever see the day where he wore his feelings like this sober. Your chest squeezes for him, and you’re grinning, something that he takes as teasing even though it’s anything but.
“C’mere honey,” You pull him closer, and he buries his face into your neck, hiding while you press kisses all across his shoulders, “I always kiss you on your cheek, why are you blushing now?”
“You’re so fuckin’ mean to me. You know that? Terrible. I don’t know why I put up with you.” He complains, bitchin’ into your clavicle as he reaches his hand around you to bring his cigarette to his mouth, suckin’ down a deep drag of nicotine.
Tsking against the roof of your mouth, you pry him away from where he’s hiding just for a moment or two, and can’t help but fall even more in love with the way he scowls at you, his nose and ears so red that they’re almost hot under your touch.
“Aw don’t say that, I’m not really so bad am I?” You pout at him, givin’ him those eyes that have him chewing on his cheek and sighing at you.
“No, you’re not.” He admits with a shake of his head, before he pushes you back onto the mattress so that your head is almost danglin’ off the edge of it, your laugh warming straight through him even though he’s already too fuckin’ hot, “But goddammit baby you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me. Always got me feelin’ like my heart’s gonna explode straight outta my fuckin’ chest. It’s just all the affection, it ain’t somethin’ I’m used to, see. Especially when you give it out of the fuckin’ blue and all.”
In a rare moment of acute awareness, Pale lets out a sigh. He watches as the morning sun glints on the gold chain you happily wear around your neck, reaches out to trace his finger along the ridges of it for a few moments.
“How’s it out of the blue when we’re literally in bed cuddlin’ together honey?” You whisper with a sweet smile, and Pale doesn’t hold himself back from smilin’ too -- a rare sight, especially for this early in the morning.
“Just is.” He shrugs a shoulder, and that’s enough for your eyes to go soft.
“Okay.” You say, and damn has Pale always loved the way you roll with the punches, easy breezy.
He can’t even be mad at you about it, because down inside he knows it’s just because you care about him. You love him. He knows you do, and he loves you too, even though he doesn’t say it, he does. He thinks that maybe he should say it now, but it ain’t the right time. He doesn’t know when that’ll be, but, not now. So instead, he taps the underside of your chin with his knuckles and sucks down more of his cigarette, mutterin’, “Warn a guy next time or somethin’ sweetheart.”
A few moments go by, and you watch him through hooded lids as he smokes, watch as the silvery-blue-grey of it wafts up to the ceiling of your shitty apartment, and think that your man is the kind of guy who deserves all the affection a girl could give him.
“Honey?” You whisper, knowin’ that he’s tired and not wantin’ to be too loud.
“Yeah?” Pale raises a curious brow at you.
“I’m warnin’ ya.” You wink, before surging up and smacking another smooching kiss to his cheek with so much force behind it that he’s knocked over the side of the bed, takin’ you with him, the two of you chucklin’ the whole way, eager to start another round of sex right there on the floor.
“You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later?”Mentions of drugs and firearms, neither are used. Pale’s involved in some sneaky sneaky. Innuendo throughout.
ANGST
Burn This - references to a past abusive relationship, use of “slut” against the reader, this is sad.
SMUT/NSFW
Pale talking about how slutty we are
Pale’s Hard Day - obacco use. erotic polaroids. semi-public masturbation. guided masturbation? (your voice & commands are inside his head). degrading language
Pale making you orgasm over and over again until you are a trembling mess.
on tumblr’s algorithm and supporting content creators
Hi! I love your writing and have read everything on your page at least 3 times. I was wondering if you could do something with Pale where he’s been super busy for a few weeks and hasn’t had a whole lot of quality time with the reader and tries to make up for it with a really nice day spent together. Could have smut in it or not, up to you!
Thank you and P.S. you are also so great at being inclusive with your writing. It’s so difficult to find fanfics that make me feel included as a black woman. Thank you so so so much and be safe!
A/N: Hello my dear friend! Thank you so much for sending this request in and for your kind words. I hope that you enjoy the little something that I've written up, and that wherever you are that you're able to stay safe too!
It’s late in the morning, you can tell just by the sounds. Before your eyes are open, before you’re even really awake, the sounds of the apartment complex in which you live, and the little city surrounding it come to life. Traffic on the streets down below, doors opening and closing around you, people shuffling off to their jobs all make you stir in your slumber. The birds have already sung their morning songs, so it’s the lingering smell of coffee in the air and sunshine in front of your eyelids that coax you awake.
Turning on your side, you roll over into something hard, solid, sturdy. Something big and wide and warm, that has you instantly smiling, grinnin’ so damn hard before your eyes are even open that you know you gotta look like an idiot.
“Mornin’ sweetheart.” A deep rumbling voice presses a kiss to your cheek, and you don’t give him the opportunity of pullin’ away, before your arms wind around his neck and keep him close to you, smilin’ smilin’ smilin’.
“Pale?” You sigh dreamily as you finally blink yourself all the way awake, letting your vision focus on the playful smirk of your very own VSOP, who scoffs at the rhetorical question.
“No it’s the milkman -- ‘course it’s me. Who else do you think I’d be? You got a bunch of other boyfriends comin’ over and sleepin’ in our bed?” He smiles when he kisses you, his thick Jersey accent always a little heavier in the morning, and you chuckle as you stretch.
“Shut up, you know that ain’t true.” You snuggle back into the mattress, gettin’ a good look at him, something that’s become a rare sight these last couple of days, and you tell him as much, “I’m just surprised to see you here. You’ve been gone the past week whenever I wake up.”
Pale sits on the edge of the bed and rubs at the back of his neck. Work has been kickin’ his fuckin’ ass for comin’ up on ten days straight now, and he had hoped that you weren’t gettin’ pissed at him, thinkin’ he was trying to run out on you or nothin’. In fact, it’s been quite the opposite, he’s been workin’ his ass off to be able to spoil you rotten.
“I know babygirl, I know. But get this, your old man finally gets some time off and I’m spendin’ the whole day makin’ it up to you. I got it all planned out, see.” Pale’s fingers walk up your sternum and pluck at the gold chain that rests against your sleep warm skin, toying with the way it sparkles in the sunlight.
You’re naked, because you always tend to sleep naked when you’re with Pale, save for the jewelry he gives you. You’ve never taken the chain off, not since the day he gave it to you, something that you just know he’s got to be eyein’.
“Why don’t you come closer and tell me all about it?” You pat the empty space next to you, the soft white sheets turned a creamy golden color from the way the sunlight streams in through the curtains.
“Nah nah nah, you gotta come here.” Pale shakes his head, he’s fully fuckin’ dressed after all, only needin’ to put on his shoes before he’s ready to walk out the door.
“No, I don’t want to.” You on the other hand, just woke up, and aren’t in the mood to get up just yet.
“Why not?”
“I’m cozy.”
Pale looks at you with a deadpan scowl, and you only look back at him with a big cheesy grin, and eventually, after a little bit of silent suffering, Pale grumbles as he slides his blazer off his arms, shucks back the covers and climbs back into bed with you.
“Alright but look we can’t stay in bed all day, you hear me? We got shit to do. I got it all planned out. We’ve got breakfast in the city and then the morning in the park, I’m takin’ you shoppin’. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you in somethin’ new. And don’t fuckin’ argue with me about how you don’t need nothin’, I know you don’t, but I don’t need half the shit I got -- I get it because I like it, and I get you shit because I like you, end of discussion.”
One of the things you always loved about your man was how he just went on and on and on, letting you snuggle up against his solid, muscular chest while he does. You rest your head on his pec instead of the pillow, and at once, his arms encircle you and he presses small kisses to the top of your head as he continues,
“Then I figure we built up an appetite so I got us a reservation for lunch in Central, and then you’re gonna put one of the new outfits because we gotta go to Broadway for dinner before a show, and then maybe, if you’re good, I’m gonna fuck your brains out nice and slow, right here in this bed when we come home. Whattaya say sweetheart, sound like a good deal?”
“Hmm, I can’t think of anything better honey, you sure know how to treat a lady.” You chuckle, letting yourself relax against his sturdy frame.
“You’re goddamned right I do.” Pale scoffs, before lightly patting at your cheek and clickin’ his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “So, all that said, you gotta get dressed dollface, breakfast is waiting.”
“Okay, okay, one more kiss?” Your eyes implore him, and who the hell is he to deny you? He leans in and kisses you softly on the mouth, but you shake your head, smiling, “No, that didn’t count.”
“Okay, there.” Pale gives you another one, tilting your face up to meet his better, for his tongue to tease right at the edge of your lower lip.
“No, that one didn’t either.” Whispering, you shake your head again, rolling onto your back and bringing Pale with you.
“How about this one?” Pale asks before gently holding onto your jaw, letting his eyes close as your mouths part in unison, sighing against each other’s lips, letting a full week of nothing but quickies and busy fucking fade away, reveling in the closeness of being together at last.
“No.” You reply, your fingers threading through his hair, not wanting to give him up yet, “One more...”
Like that, you and Pale stay for quite a while, entwined in the feeling of one another. And if Pale decides to strip down and give you a couple orgasms before he takes you out, if that means you miss the breakfast reservation and grab something from the bodega instead, if you wind up covered in hickies for your shopping appointments, well, you certainly don’t give a shit -- just glad to be with your favorite man after some time apart, together at last.
Since asks are open, can you please write a little something about reader wearing Pales clothes. Fluffy or smutty you choose! Thank you!
(1k ; fluff!)
You’re flipping through channels late one night, when the front door opens and closes with a force that really could only be at the hands of your man Pale. You spare a glance to the clock, the illuminated digital one that’s tucked into one of the shelves on the wall-unit and grin. Pale’s back early, it’s only ‘round about one o’clock, and you hadn’t been expecting him until at least three.
Getting up off the couch and bounding into the foyer of the big apartment you called your home, you hug Pale hello and take in the sight of his exhausted and irritated face, doin’ your best not to laugh when he scowls and asks, “What the fuck’s this?”
Your Pale never was one for subtlety, was he? You shake your head and press a big smacking smooch to his cheek, as he tries to get his hands on ya. Always so grabby, handsy as ever, your Pale.
“My day was wonderful thank you for askin’. How was yours?” Sarcastically you roll your eyes and pull him further into the apartment so you could close the door and keep the chill from the hallway out. Pale might’ve run too hot, but without him your bones got real cold real quick.
Pale grumbles about something, low in his chest and you don’t really know what it is he’s saying, until he squeezes your hand tight and you turn to face him.
“Kiss?” He’s already leaning in, and you smile, happy to indulge him.
He’s frowning still, even as you kiss him. Brows pinched in, he regards you with confusion and you can’t help but worry about something. He didn’t look high, wasn’t actin’ all out of whack, which was a good sign. But still, if something had happened, you’d rather know about it upfront.
“Everything okay handsome?” You twirl some of his hair around your finger.
“That’s my shirt.” He says eventually, makin’ your brows shoot way up high.
That’s not what you had thought he’d be complainin’ about at all, not by a long shot. You look down, see how you’ve got one of his casual button-ups draped across your body. He’s way taller than you, and a great deal broader too, so it fits you more like a nightgown than a shirt.
“Yeah I’m wearin’ your socks too.” You lift up your foot to show him, and you grin big and wide, teasing, “Didn’t know that was such a crime.”
Pale blinks at the socks, lookin’ at how they practically flop over at the toe from where his feet are just too fuckin’ massive for you to ever properly fill out. He’s lookin’ at you real strange, and your smile starts to fade, wondering if you really had upset him with this small act.
“It’s not I – I just.” But then he’s stammerin’ over himself and he’s talkin’ fast and loud in that way he does, and you know you ain’t in no trouble. “You just look real fuckin’ good sweetheart. What’s the matter got too tired of wearin’ all the pretty shit I buy you? It ain’t enough for you to have two full closets you gotta go wearin’ my fuckin’ clothes too?”
Pale picks you up and slings you over his shoulder, gives your ass a smack as he carries you through the apartment to the bedroom. Laughing and pounding your fists on his back with little to no effort, you let yourself be carried, doin’ your best not to get dizzy from bein’ upside down.
Pale dumps you onto the mattress and your body bounces a little, lying on your back as his hands are already nimbly tugging at the buttons to free your body for him.
“They smelled like you.” You admit around a bout of giggles, legs fallin’ open so that he can settle down between them and lick and bite at your neck, your chest.
“How’s that?” He looks up, head snappin’ up from your words so fast that it makes you blink.
“I missed you, and these smell like you.” You explain, and he frowns again.
You know it’s hard for Pale sometimes, after so long with that bitch Barbie who neglected and only ever fought with him, for Pale to accept that you wanted him. You wanted him when he was here, and when he was gone you missed him. You wonder if she had ever missed him so much she put on his shirts, if when she was cold she ever pulled her arms through his jacket sleeves. It don’t matter, you know, but it hurts your heart for Pale to have gone so long without your love.
He deserved it, deserves all of it that you can give.
“I’m here now, ain’t I?” Pale asks, proppin’ himself up above your body, the moonlight shinin’ and glinting off the matching gold chains you both wear.
“Mhm, yeah you are.” You grin, so pleased that he is here, that it’s earlier than you thought and you wouldn’t have to wait another couple hours for this scowl, these furrowed brows, that mood. You love him, every part of him, and you want to show him how much.
“Still miss me?” Pale teases, raisin’ a brow for you.
Humming lightly, you rub your hands up and down his chest where he hovers over you. One by one, you pluck open the buttons on his silk dress shirt, revealing more and more of his strong pecs. You slide your hands around the heat of his back, and lick your lips.
“Maybe, why don’t you come over here and gimmie a kiss, we’ll find out.” You grin, and Pale only huffs out a laugh and closes the distance between your bodies, his weight a welcome pressure against your body.
You’ve been wearin’ his clothes like this in secret for quite some time, but now that he knows and he’s okay with it, you think that you’ll have to bundle up in his shit more often, if it gets you kissed like this.
Morning my friend! hope I arrived in time for sinday before it closes! May I request #26 "getting older" from the domesticity prompts with Pale or Biker!Kylo? maybe mixed in with either 3 or 20 from the types of kisses prompts? Thank you and happy sinday! :))
“Alright, spill.” You say one evening, coming home from a late night out at the club, a late night out with Pale.
He’d been quiet all night – all day in fact. That wasn’t like him, not Pale, not your man whose mouth ran a hundred miles a minute, always having somethin’ to say. You did most of the talkin’ tonight, not that that was a bad thing necessarily, but if Pale was goin’ through somethin’, you wanted to know what.
“How’s that sweetheart?” Pale asks, and bingo, he even sounds like he’s stuck in his own head.
You block him on the stairwell goin’ up to the apartment. The elevator was out of service, and boy did Pale fuckin’ bitch and moan about that – why the hell was he payin’ so much if the elevator couldn’t even work? But the elevator is out of order for the evening, and you’re makin’ your way up the ten flights of stairs, and you’ve gone up a few steps ahead to block his path.
“Something’s on your mind, I wanna know what.” You say, not unkindly, just firm.
“We gonna do this here?” Pale smokes his cigarette, flicks the ash onto the floor. He doesn’t sound angry, just resigned, tired. You worry about him sometimes, worry that he spreads himself too thin. He knows you’re stubborn and he sighs. “I had a dream last night, alright, that’s all. Nothin’ to write home about.”
“Pale.” You encourage, crossin’ your arms over your chest to show he ain’t gettin’ off that easy.
“It’s just.” He chews his lip, doesn’t know where to begin, how to start. “It was us, ya know. But not us? Older, we were older. We had a nice house somewhere, coupl’a rugrats runnin’ around. Maybe they were our grandkids, I don’t fuckin’ know. But it…it was nice. Real nice.”
“Yeah?” Your eyes soften, this was always a very off-limits topic, it makes your heart pound to hear him even talkin’ about it.
“Yeah. I had grey hair. Do you think I’d look good with grey hair?” He runs a hand through his locks and you smile, of course he’d be concerned about that.
“I think you’d be very handsome.” You nod, voice soft in the stairwell as he climbs up a step or two to be more level with you. You’re still taller than him bein’ up on the steps like this, and ain’t that a funny sight, bein’ taller than Pale for once? You cup his cheeks in your hand and kiss his plush lips, “Silver fox.”
“Is that something…I don’t fuckin’ know.” He mumbles against your mouth, shrugs his shoulders and rests his hands on your waist. He’s vulnerable in a way that he normally saves for crashes from highs, and it makes you just want to hold him, especially when he whispers, “Is that something you’d want? Growin’ old with this ugly mug. Is – do you think you’d want me for that long?”
“I don’t see myself lovin’ anyone else, I only ever picture myself with you Pale. Surely you know that.” You nod, whispering back, the topic of a future together always something that makes your palms sweat, “Is that something you want? Something you’d try again?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes pinch shut, “The kids don’t fuckin’ want anything to do with me, Barb doesn’t want shit to do with me, she gave up on me – I… It failed so fuckin’ spectacularly the first time. I don’t want us to fail.”
The admission is heavy, in the stairwell. He’s had such a bad experience and you know that, you know. You’d be fine never being a Mrs., you’d be fine just you and him. But if it’s on his mind, if the cards are on the table, if there’s some hope that someday you might settle down, you can’t deny that the idea makes your heart race.
“We won’t.” You kiss his cheek, more confident in this than in anything else.
“Ask me again in a year, alright? Let me just have you like this for a little longer.” Pale’s eyes are pleading, and you smile, nod and smile, never wanting to pressure him, to push him into something he didn’t want.
“You can have me as long as you’d like. We’ve got time, we’ve got all the time in the world. And I want to spend all of it with you.” You reply.
And when Pale leans in to kiss you properly, the kind of kiss that’s got your stomach doin’ little flips in your pretty sparkly gown, you smile because he already feels lighter, already feels better. You can tell, just in the way that he holds you, and you’re grateful then, that the elevator was down.
Hello! Wonderful to have another Sinday! May I have Reader running her hands through Pale's hair until he falls asleep? 🥰
Anonymous said: “shut up with all that soulmate shit” with Pale please :,)
It’s too late in the evening when you come home, a shift at work gone on a little longer than you’d really been anticipating. Pale’s home, you could tell from the corner before even crossing the street over to his big penthouse in the sky. The lights were on, and he was home, and you braced yourself to be swept up in a tight hug the moment you crossed the threshold.
So when the absence of his arms around your waist lasts for more than a few seconds, you step out of your shoes with a little frown.
“Pale? You doin’ alright honey?” You call out in case he’s in the bathroom or something, padding barefoot across the tile flooring.
In typical Pale fashion, he pops out from around the corner and looks like the world’s run him real ragged, poor man. He’s wearing his tank top and boxer shorts, sock garters still in place, he probably forgot he was even wearing them. Pale works too hard, you think; he’s got a lit cigarette between his lips and one that he’s flickin’ the ash between his fingers. Your eyes soften and you start to peel away the layers of your clothing from the outside world, wanting to be stripped down to nothing the way Pale is.
“Alright? Do I look like I’m doin’ alright? I’m fuckin’ stressed outta my goddamned mind I’m rippin the hair outta my head I gotta get ahold of these fuckin’ schmucks but ain’t nobody answerin’ their phones because it’s too late even though god knows they don’t give a shit about that when they need to call me and – ” Pale gets all worked up, talks and talks and talks the way he does, mouth movin’ fast but brain movin’ faster.
You spare a glance to the clock as you walk silently to the bedroom, it’s just about four o’clock in the morning, and Pale follows you easily, gesturin’ with his hands and moving them all about as he bitches and complains about everything and everyone.
“C’mere, I know what’ll help.” You say after a while, when his throat starts to close up from being a little too overwhelmed.
You climb onto the bed above the covers, knowing how Pale doesn’t like anyone getting under the sheets unless they’ve showered the day away, and pat the space next to you. Seeing you sitting up against the headboard must’ve snapped him out of his funk, because he’s soon stubbing out the cigarettes in the ashtray with a great big sigh.
“Fuck, I’m sorry princess, none’a this is your fault. It’s just been a long day.” He grumbles, scrubs a hand over his face.
“I know, you ain’t gotta be sorry, just come lay down next to me.” You pat the space again, encouraging him to lay down, and you give him a warm and loving smile when he goes.
The moment he’s got his head resting on your lap, you begin to card your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, silky and smooth – he’s a good dresser, your Pale. Takes pride in his appearance, from the silver hairs which are starting to grow out near his temple, all the way down to his well clipped toenails. You scratch lightly down his scalp, back and forth in little circles, winding your fingers through his hair and letting the tresses slip through like water.
“Oh shit, you know you’re real good at that princess?” Pale all but moans into your thigh where his cheek is nestled, as his arms wrap around your legs.
“Yeah?” You smile, massaging the base of his skull all the way up to his crown, going against the natural pattern of how his hair lays, making him practically melt in the process.
“Mhm, could you use – yeah your nails just like that.” He nuzzles deeper into your embrace and lets out a happy little shuddering sigh as the tingling sensation pulls rumbles from his chest that come out sounding something like, “Shit.”
“Unclench your jaw for me honey.” You huff a tiny laugh at how even when he’s relaxed, he’s still so, well, Pale. You can see the way his muscles flex from grinding his teeth, and you can’t have that, but the reminder is enough for him to realize he’s doing it and he stops.
“You’re so good for me, you know that? Made just for me, all mine.” He hums and sighs and nuzzles into you, his eyes closed, his breathing beginning to even out.
“It’s like we’re soulmates or somethin’, hm?” You tease, looping one of his precious curls around your finger and giving it a playful tug that has him snorting into the crease where your thighs and your hip meet.
“Nah nah nah,” He peppers kisses there, nips at your flesh gently as his arms tighten around your calves. “Shut up with all that soulmate shit.”
“Okay okay, whatever you say.” You roll your eyes and grin, even though he can’t see it. A grin which softens as Pale’s shoulders start to go slack, evidence that he’s falling asleep, making you whisper, “Love you.”
“Love you more baby, more than fuckin’ anythin’ in the whole wide world.” He mumbles, and you just keep petting his hair.
Eventually, you’ll have to slip out of his grasp and shower, brush the coffee off your teeth and get those garters off his feet so he won’t have funny marks on his legs – but for now it’s enough to simply hold him in the dark of your bedroom, a long day finally at its end.
Happy Sinday Mrs Z! I’m sorry if this is ridiculous but I was thinking how funny Pale would be if you were trying to get to sleep but there was a fly buzzing around the room that he was adamant he had to squash before he went to sleep??
It’s real dark, quiet. Pale’s just finished off a finger of whiskey after a real long evening of starin’ at paperwork for the new orchestration he’s puttin’ together for the fuckin’ philharmonic. The words had all started to bleed together and not just from the warm drink, and his hands were gettin’ tired of holdin’ papers instead’a holdin’ you. So he slips into the bedroom and closes the door behind him, and is all ready to strip outta his clothes and gather you in his arms – when he catches the faintest noise.
“Hey, dollface.” Pale whispers with a frown, wondering if you’re still up.
“Hmm?” You’re not, not really, your face buried in your pillow, droolin’ a little from bein’ more than halfway to sleep.
“D’ya hear that?” Pale’s wide awake now though, and has no intentions of laying down just yet.
“Hear wha—no, Pale, come to sleep honey.” You lift your head and squint at him in the low light of the moon, knowing exactly what’s gonna happen and really hoping he’ll just let it go, just for tonight, just this once.
“Nahnahnah, not yet.” Pale shakes his head, puts his hands on his hips and you groan while he walks around the room, goes into the closet. “I fuckin’ hear a buzzin’ and I ain’t goin’ to sleep until it stops.”
“I had the windows open ‘cuz it was hot. Probably just a fly or somethin’ that flew in, c’mere I miss you.” You whine, patting the empty space next to him.
He doesn’t see that, comes out of the closet in his underwear and gold chain, cigarette danglin’ from his plush lips and a swatter in hand.
“Ohh a fly huh.” He starts creepin’ around the fuckin’ room like he’s some kinda James Bond spy – he always really did love Bond -- “Well they picked the wrong fuckin’ apartment to land in, ain’t nobody’s gonna fuckin’ infiltrate my fuckin’ penthouse I can tell you that. I can tell you that! I’ll fuckin’ crush it between my hands like some kinda – hey baby I’m gonna turn– ”
“Pale if you turn the light on right now I will smack you.” You say, sounding entirely too awake to not be taken seriously.
“Okay okay, no light. S’okay, I don’t need the light, I can kill it in the dark like this no fuckin’ problem, ain’t no problem at all. Just be real quiet and let me listen.” He nods quickly, acquiescing to you.
You roll your eyes, not bothering to remind him that he’s the one makin’ all the fuckin’ noise here, and you roll onto your back with your hands behind your head, watchin’ him start lunging all around the fuckin’ bedroom, following a buzzing you can’t even hear.
There’s a couple crashes as he tumbles over furniture that he swears wasn’t fuckin’ there before, he bumps into the dresser, and now the fuckin’ fly is in a frantic frenzy trying to get away from this huge hulkin’ fridge of a man, who in all his grace bangs his foot of the edge of the bedframe and winds up smacking himself in the chest thinkin’ the fly landed on his pec.
“Fuck yes!” He says eventually killing it against the window where it no doubt thought it would make its great escape.
“Very good honey, now go wash your hands and come the fuck to sleep it’s three in the mornin’.” You’re quick to encourage him to snuggle up with you, and he pushes his hair back as if he were cool as a fuckin’ cucumber, and didn’t just work up a sweat tryin’ to kill this thing.
You can’t help but laugh at how silly he is, especially when he swoops down for a kiss as he passes you on his way to the bathroom and winks, “You can rest easy angel, I’ve got it all under control.”
So a little bird told me you’re second favorite boy is pale?? maybe spending an soft evening with that grumpy man? Love u very much, hope u feel well!! 🥰
Pale doesn’t really do soft, if you asked him.
He’ll say he doesn’t like to be touched as he’s winding his arms around you for a hug, as he’s backing you into a corner or pushing you up against a wall to shove his face into your neck.
He’ll say he ain’t one for petnames as he calls you sweetheart angle dollface baby come here and taste this would ya?
He don’t like covers on the bed or sheets or nothin’ because he gets too hot, he’ll complain as he tucks you right up on top of him, one of your hands resting on his stomach as he settles your head on his chest.
He ain’t gonna turn into one of those fuckin’ middle aged sad saps who spends an evening in playin’ cards in the living room, as he deals out a deck.
He says there ain’t nothin’ on TV to watch and no one should rot their brains away in front of a screen, as he asks you to check the guide for when that movie you like is coming on while he pops popcorn on the stove in the kitchen.
He don’t believe in heaven, but he’ll ask you to stand out on the fire escape with him and count the stars, make the constellations with your fingers while he smoke a cigarette and asks all the stories behind them.
He ain’t romantic, but he’ll light candles and play music real fuckin’ soft and tug you close to him and dance with you in the moonlight.
He’s not soft, he’s not cuddly or lovey dovey or into any of that bullshit -- if you asked him.
So, you’ve learned to stop asking, and simply enjoy all the soft cuddly lovey dovey bullshit that he loves but won’t ever admit.
