#before he couldn’t reach it even if he jumped he used to have to climb the shelf and sometimes got hurt

[devils-little-sista]

When Nico becomes immortal the only thing he does to change his appearance is make himself a little bit taller. Like he was previously 5’7 but now he’s 5’10.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Last one standing..

Stanley Jobson x reader (neighbor!au)

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜ଘ(˵╹-╹)━☆ 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 ＆ 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘓𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘦̂𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺, “𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺”𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 -3- !!－， 𝘏𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭😭

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦ଘ(˵╹-╹)━ ♡︎ 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑑𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐻𝑒’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑥 𝑐𝑢𝑏𝑒, 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒．．．．𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒’𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟．．．

@cherrywineisawaltz said something first😭

_ _𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟.-_ 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨_/-𝐜.𝐨𝐧_𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨}} 𝐧𝐨-/_.𝟐

.♥︎.

You couldn't give in. It felt like the legacy of damn near feminism itself was counting on you.

This was all HIS fault.

A frown creeps on your face as you recall what- or rather who seemed to coast in from Texas bringing not only himself but his unconventionalness with him while also single-handedly being responsible for the position you’re currently in. And to make matters worst, you hadn’t even done anything to catch his attention.

To your knowledge (the apartment grapevine) you’re one of the few strong soldiers still standing who haven’t fallen to his charms. You never thought you’d live to the day where you’d be mentally cursing a 6’3 man with short hair as messy as his life, unfairly bright under eyes, perfect teeth, dimples, the most clutchable forearms you’ve ever seen and eyebrows that just won’t quit.

Fucking Stanley Jobson.

You shake your head- no you’re not fucking Stan. Even though since about three and a half weeks ago, he’s been driving you crazy trying to get you to go out with him. The last time you saw him he was guaranteeing that “you’d have a great time pretty” and from the suggestive flick of his brow as he looked down at you, head tilted, you tried to fight the warmth crawling over your body at the picture his words painted you. It didn’t work though because almost immediately you were swarmed with images of him. Laying naked in Stanley’s bed, nails digging into his broad shoulders before raking down his equally sculpted back, big arms wrapped around you as he stretched you out, rolling his hips into your slick heat over and over moaning raggedly into your mouth-

Stan’s gentle questioning hum breaks you out of your daydream and you stare back dumbly into his eyes before taking a deep refreshing mind clearing breath of crisp completely sane air, giving him a tight smile, turning around and promptly getting the fuck out of there.

The more you avoided him, the more he seemed to haunt you. Physically and metaphorically.

Another incident was when you were using the complex’s washing machine. Usually you’d go to a different laundromat but it was pouring and you needed clean underwear. Again, thanks to your shit luck, you ran out of laundry detergent half way through and the free stuff was on some high ass shelves above the machines that you couldn’t climb because they were old as fuck and just as unsafe which left you to the tried and true method- tiptoes and jumping.

You still couldn’t reach and for some reason it filled you with such a rage that you consider knocking all the shit there over but before you could throw your fit, a large hand holds your waist along with a solid chest to your back while his other hand reaches up to grab the soap powder, placing it softly in your hands then resting his chin on your shoulder.

“How are you cute even when soap has you all pissy?” Stan huffs out an amused chuckle, the air tickling your cheek. You catch yourself rolling your eyes fondly, tilting your head back a little.

Maybe you could entertain him a bit.

Relaxing in his hold, you try to calm your racing heart. Stanley was so big and he smelled so good and you can’t even think about his voice and all the dirty things that would sound heavenly coming from him. Especially right now, standing pressed flush to him with no panties on under your shorts.

“That’s because I wasn’t getting pissy-“, another chuckle from Stan, “I was getting annoyed. The difference is key.” You retort sassily, feeling him nod on your shoulder. “Yeah, sure you were baby.” The petname makes your heart skip hard as heat blooms to your chest and you swallow. Goosebumps raise on your arms as Stanley rubs them up and down, softly humming as he does. You wish you were unaffected but unfortunately you need to stay strong.

Clearing your throat, you ask aloud: “what are you doing?” Stanley runs his hands up to your shoulders, applying firm pressure as he starts to massage the tension there. “Helping. This whole week whenever I saw you, you always looked so stressed…”

Qué?? Your brain shuts down and suddenly you have a second heartbeat as the hottest man you’ve ever come in contact has your resolve crumbling by the second. His thumbs drag across a particularly sore part of muscle and a relieved gasp spills from your throat. “I- yeah?” You say, trying to concentrate but the deep hum in your ear scatters your thoughts again, Stanley clouding your senses.

“Yeah…and y’know I could fix that..help you relax..” His low voice trails off but god you know exactly what he means, biting your lip to keep from accepting immediately. You should stop. Back up off him and come up with some nonsensical excuse to leave before you kiss him but you don’t. Instead you ask-

“…how?”

You won’t repeat the things he whispered in your ear.

Only that they had you running back to your place to do something- anything to distract you from the ache between your legs,leaving your laundry altogether.

Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t have flirt back but experience is important. Now you know that letting the stupidly built man you’re fighting tooth and nail to resist hold you is a bad idea. You live and you learn.

But….all these encounters are starting to take a toll on you and Stanley is wearing you down. You can’t recall when he even started to be this big of a problem for you. When he first moved in, you didn’t see him much but heard a lot. Excited talk about some gorgeous guy and disputes over if he had the perfect nerd or fireman look until you saw him and understanding dawned on you. You won’t lie, there was no point: he was fine. Standing in grey adidas track pants with a tight sleeveless tank as he helped an elderly lady carry her things to the elevator with a effortlessly gracious smile but from then on you decided that was it. Guys like Mr. ‘Pregnancy is only 9 months’ were nothing but trouble. Plus seeing just about all the women in the building vying for his attention, you knew what you weren’t going to do: him. Until you see him one night standing in front of the mailboxes holding a childrens drawing with a look so sad it made you mourn with him. Walking to him like reflex, placing your hand on his arm.

“I don’t know who she is but I’m sure she understands.”

A longing sigh leaves Stanley’s lips and he’s silent for a beat. “…she- Holly- is 10. I had to send her away again this week. We talk and stuff but my work always has me runnin’ off somewhere n’ that’s hard n’just…”, there’s another sigh and you know what he means because you miss your own folks sometimes too, “I miss her. I don’t want her to think she’s not apart of me because we’re not always together.” First step to comforting someone: don’t cry. But damn, you feel bad for him. You rub his arm in soothing motions, nodding gently. “Well technically, you aren’t apart. She’s in your blood, you’re not a lonely man.”

The way Stan snapped his head down at you, staring into your eyes with a tender look was definitely the first warning but did you listen? No, all you do is stare back before softly bidding him goodnight. Leaving behind your perfume and the warmth of your hand.

After then, he was steadily more different towards you. More open, even more charming, always calling you some kind of petname, giving you borderline obscene compliments, “lookin’ good enough to eat sugar” he cooed at you as you passed him on the way to your flat just this week but you willed yourself not to go there with him. If you were any other woman, you’d have bit his dust a long time ago. Hell, you know a plethora of women who already did which leads to what do you do now? You’re both getting closer but you’re trying to stay friends. If you start, it might never end so you keep tiptoeing..

Solid knocks at your door break you out of your brooding, slightly confused because you didn’t order anything and you weren’t expecting company. Padding over to the door, you swing it open and your eyes widen as your heart leaps up your throat. Stanley stands looking as yummy as ever smiling down at you. His shoulders seem even broader and you can’t think clearly with his aftershave in your face.

Fuck your life and the horse it rode in on.

Suppressing a deeply inconvenienced sigh, you grin tightly at him. “Yes Stanley?” The sound of his name from you makes his already glowing face positively blinding. “You and me, 7:30 tonight. Let’s paint the town. What do ya say sweetheart?”

“What about Holly?”

As if summoned, you hear the little things voice from way down the hall and you poke your head out to see her. She’s all toothy grins, waving excitedly as she poorly holds a familiar looking puppy with one arm. “Emmie and me are having a slumber party tonight! And look! Isn’t he cute?!” She explains before thrusting the dog forward and while cute, you do feel bad for him because that can’t be comfortable. Emmie is the daughter of one of the military men next door. You see them around and they’re always nice. Just as quickly as she appeared, she’s gone again, back in the door to go play with her friend. A soft laugh leaves you as you turn to look at Stanley but he’s already looking at you. And closer. You gulp.

“Well, I would but-“

“Scared you’re gonna have fun?”

His playful jab riles you up in the way that’s always been easy for him because it’s him and you rush to wipe the smirk off his aesthetically pleasing face. “Actually I’m scared you won’t be able to keep up with me. Because I’m so much fun.” Stanley looks stunned for a second before chuckling lowly, biting his lip as he nods slowly and the air shifts. “How are you so sure I can’t keep up if you don’t give me a chance?” The air feels hotter and you roll your shoulders to try and shake it off but the images are back and it’s so not your fault. Stanley gets closer. “If anything…,” his breath washes over your face like mint and lemon sweet tea, “you’ll be breaking to keep up with me.”

Oh.

“And say if I can’t? Do you go find someone who’s more your speed?” You ask coyly, going for a different approach entirely so you don’t yank him to your lips. “No, I help you keep up. For as long as you’ll let me.”

That’s it.

Silently, you back up a few steps into your apartment because you know he’ll follow you. When he does, you motion to the door with your hand and Stan looks amused but closes it anyways, coming to stand in front of you when you crook your finger for him to come closer.

Burly arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you completely against him and it feels so good you’re dizzy, reaching up to loop your arms around his neck but Stanley’s height makes it hard and you groan. Knowing how you can get (laundry incident) Stan lifts you, arm around your waist with the other hand splayed across your ass then your legs around his waist. The feel of his warm muscles under you make you throb and suddenly breathing is slightly harder. Biting your lip, you run your hands up his corded neck then back down to his wide chest, letting your imagination run wild. Stanley just lets you as he clears his throat to get your attention.

“You wantin’ something from me, baby?” You would have said something smart back but you don’t have it in you. Instead, “just kiss me already-“ and then your mouth is immediately consumed by his.

Like the rest of him, his lips are warm and you’re already burning up, moaning the second he slots his mouth over yours, sending shivers down your spine as he licks along the seam of your lips, making you tighten your legs around him and kiss him even harder.

Stanley groans at your rough sucking at his bottom lip before licking hotly into your mouth. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, groaning when you immediately follow his mouth. His tongue coaxes yours into his, languidly sucking at the wet muscle and a sharp jolt of arousal lights through your body making you melt down, dripping from your cunt, soaking your underwear and the desire to be naked becomes an urgent need. The wet smack of your kissing makes you both heady as your grind yourself on his abs, gasping wetly at the friction and you tug the hem of his shirt with a needy whine, needing it off yesterday.

To your dismay, Stan pulls off from the slick of your mouth, licking hot kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck before dragging you slowly down his body, watching with blown pupils as your pouty mouth drops open when your clit catches on every ridge of his stomach and the tent of his erection through your tiny shorts, until you’re set back on your feet, glaring at him. He pecks you on the lips to soothe you but you’re feisty. “I’m hard, you’re hard. Why’d we stop?” You look like you’re seconds away from stomping your foot in annoyance and laughing at the petulance in your voice will only frustrate you further so he stamps it down, taking your hands in his.

“Because, we need to go on our date first.” You pout despite the warmth in your cheeks and nod. “Right. Tonight at 7:30.” This time he does laugh, the sound making you smile as he nods. Bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them, then your cheek. “You got it, pretty.”

You walk him to the door and motion him down, kissing him sweetly one more time, bathed in the warm way he looks at you.

“See you then…”

It ended up being the best date of your life.

[luvjunie]

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

You can’t stay mad and quiet at him forever, at least not if he can help it.

You looked Alfie in the eyes before you shook your head and turned around, walking away from your husband. “Where are you going?” You stayed silent, walking up the stairs to get yourself ready for bed. He creased his brows and followed closely behind you. “You can’t just stop an argument by not talking.” You didn’t even acknowledge him, just undoing the back to your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor; unclipping your hair from your updo and letting it fall.

Alfie felt offended: that was his job; you always let him take down your hair.

“Ziskeit, the silent treatment isn’t the way to go about this.” He told you, but you just wandered off to put your slip dress and slide into bed. Alfie was still stood in the doorway in disbelief, watching as you went on about your day as if you didn’t live with your husband of three years.

“Poppet-” click the lamp beside your bed turned off and Alfie’s jaw was on the floor, tutting at you. How dare you? He went about his own nightly routine, trying not to seem wounded by his lack of goodnight kisses and giggles as he’d tickle your neck with his beard. Eventually, he laid beside you and put an arm around your waist but it was shrugged off. “Look treacle I don’t care how fucked off you are with me, right. But I should be able to sleep comfortably with my wife.” He said, gruffly into your ear; moving again to replace his hand.

Again, you’d pushed it off. “Fucking unbelievable. Cant touch my own wife.” He’s grumbled, turning over and crossing his arms to try to force himself to sleep angrily when all he really wanted was your embrace on a cold night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to you doing your hair at the vanity he’d bought you for your last birthday. He’d walked over and pecked your cheek. “Morning ziskeit” he said and you said nothing, didn’t even look at him. He sighed exasperatedly. “Still doing that are we.”

He put his hands on the back of your chair and leant down to look at you in the mirror. “Real mature of you this, poppet.” He told you, taking the hair in the pony tail and wrapping it around his hand. “Knew I’d married a younger woman when we said our vows but didn’t realise I’d married a little girl.” He tugged the hair sharply. “Perhaps you need daddy to reeducate you, hmm?” You looked back at him in the mirror and shivered, and for a moment he’d thought he’d won. You just picked up the nice little expensive perfume bottle he’d bought you and sprayed it twice on your neck, getting him straight in the face. He just huffed and let you be. You couldn’t continue this forever.

He trudged down the stairs and went to make you both some breakfast, simultaneously tightening jars and putting cans higher than he knew you could reach, placing a plate in front of you when you’d arrived downstairs. But before you could even look at it, Alfie had wagged his finger at you. “Only girls who use their manners get fed.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. He took your chin in a hand and hummed at you as though speaking with a disobedient child. “Hmm? So? You going to ask politely, ziskeit?” You clenched your jaw and swatted the hand away once more, standing to go feed Cyril.

It went on similarly for the rest of the day, you trying to open things, to no avail - just for your husband to swoop in like some saviour and offer to do it “if you just say please” to which you’d throw the jar in the bin. Or when you’d stretch go grab something high up, even trying to climb on the counter, feeling hands on your waist “I’ll give you a hand, just have to ask, treacle.” And you’d jump down.

And it was like Groundhog Day as he found himself in the same position he was in yesterday. “Please loves, just need to hear your voice I’m sorry.” He’d pleaded, watching you undress ready for bed. “Right-” he’d grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, barely any garments covering your dignity. He gently dropped you on the bed and settled himself between your legs, ripping your undergarments off as he looked up at you “let’s see how long you can stay fucking quiet”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Broken Promises

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a master thief, given the task to steal a lightsaber from a Jedi temple. In the process of getting away, you run into someone you never thought you’d see again.

A/N: slight AU in which Qimir really is just some hot dorky guy and not a hot sexy Sith.

It brought you a sense of pride hearing Jedi scramble about in the middle of the night. Their false sense of security disintegrated after word reaching to them that an intruder had stolen the relic from them - a lightsaber that belonged to an esteemed Jedi knight.

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you climb over the walls of the Jedi temple. You jump down, going into a tuck and roll. You regain your composure and look back down into your satchel, the saber still inside.

You pull up your hood and scarf to cover your face and waltz into the crowd of people celebrating the Moon Festival.

All kinds of people and species don similar robes as you wear. The colors of dark blue and light blue to represent the moons of Tython. Once every few cycles, the moons appear beside each other and is meant to grant good luck and fortune to Tython’s inhabitants. Thus a festival to celebrate that look and fortune emerged.

You knew because of the festival, everyone would be distracted, even the Jedi that lived at the temple that housed the relic saber.

You weave through the crowd, keeping your head low and a firm grip on your satchel. You hear a commotion and look behind you to see a group of Jedi making their way through the crowd, looking for you.

You continue the direction you’re going, trying your best not to look suspicious. As you turn a corner, someone takes hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alley way.

You hand immediately goes to your dagger on your hip. You use your weight to press the assailant against the wall, blade at their neck.

Your eyes widen when you see who grabbed you.

You yanked you hood back and pull your scarf from your face, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re supposed to be dead.”

You step back and sheath your weapon, “What are you doing here, Qimir?”

The man fixes his robes and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “I heard a rumor you got hired for a job here. Thought ‘that’s not possible. I watched her die.’ Figured I’d see if I was wrong and,” he gestures to your being, “I was. Here you are living and breathing.”

You scoff, “Yes, I’m sure this is quite a shock considering you left me to die!” You sneer at the man.

He holds his hands up, “To be fair, that was a fatal blow. What was the point of staying?”

“Maybe to see if there was a chance I lived? Which there clearly was!”

You hear the glow of sabers near you and immediately start undoing your dark blue robe, “Switch robes with me. Now!”

“What? Why-“

“Now, Qimir!”

The man scrambles as he undoes his cloak, handing it to you while you toss yours at him. You both quickly re-dress as footsteps near.

“Okay, now-mmf!” Qimir’s words go interrupted as your lips press against his.

The glow of a blue lightsaber causes you to pull away with a gasp, “Oh! Um,” you giggle nervously at the Jedi who seemed uncomfortable to have witnessed you and Qimir in such a state.

The young man clears his throat, “Apologies, but, have you seen a suspicious person dressed in dark blue robes pass by?”

You snort, “A person dressed in dark blue robes? That’s like half of this planet right now.”

“You didn’t see anyone that seemed like they didn’t belong?”

You shake your head, “No, sir. To be quite honest we’ve been a little,” you gesture between you and Qimir, “preoccupied, as you noticed.”

The Jedi uncomfortably clears his throat, “Yes, well, apologies. If you do see or hear anything, please report it to the Jedi temple immediately.”

You salute to the man, “Will do.”

“Um, enjoy your night,” he says before he and the few other Jedi behind him continue around the corner.

You let out a deep breath and look back at Qimir, who was smirking at you, “Did you get better at kissing?”

You roll your eyes and tug him by the sleeve to follow you back out into the crowd. Stumbling after you, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“To meet my client and get my money.”

“Why are you taking me?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to turn me in to those Jedi.”

The further you walk from the celebrations, the quieter things become. Your hold on Qimir doesn’t loosen until you make your way to the forest where you hid your ship.

“Wow,” Qimir stands in awe of the vessel, “You’ve upgraded.”

“Had to since you left me to die and stole my ship.”

You two walk up the ramp and head towards the cockpit. You hear Qimir sigh as he follows you, “You’re still angry about that?”

You throw yourself into the pilot’s seat and start up your ship. Aggressively, flipping switches, pressing buttons, “Yes, Qimir! I’m still angry about it! We were a team! We were lo-“, you stop yourself, “We were friends. I thought I meant more to you than that. I was clearly wrong.”

You slowly bring the ship into the air and go full speed ahead, causing Qimir to fall backward right in his butt.

He groans as he does his best to bring himself to his feet, “I’m sorry! I am!”

Once in the atmosphere, you hit the hyperdrive and go into hyperspace.

You turn in the pilot’s chair to face Qimir, who’s looking down at you with a sad expression, “I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I am glad you’re not dead…and since I didn’t say anything to the Jedi-“

“Oh fuck off!” You stand and push past him, “Just because you didn’t turn me in, you think you deserve a cut?”

“I’m kidding….mostly,” he responds as he follows you to the sleeping quarters. He leans against the wall as you walk behind a changing screen.

“So…you didn’t really think to see me after all this time?” He asks.

You snort, “Again, you left me to die.”

“I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do, Y/N.”

After changing into comfier clothes, you stomp out from behind the changing screen, “To stay with me! Even if I were to die, I wouldn’t have been alone! That’s what hurts the most, Qimir! After you promised you’d always be at my side and that you cared about me, the time I needed you the most, you weren’t. You broke your promise.”

Qimir observes your broken expression, the facade of being collected and intimidating having melted away. He slowly walks up to you, slipping his hands into yours, “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be here if I still didn’t care. When I heard that you were alive and still taking jobs, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true, that you were alive. That I could see you again.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sigh, “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“You made me work for your trust the first time. I’ll work for it this time as well.” He kisses your forehead and steps back, “Now let’s go get your money, shall we?” He shoots you that grin that made you fall for him all those years ago.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you mumble as you let go of his hands and head back to the cockpit to steer you towards your waiting client.

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

————————————————————

*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter sixty. lost wc. 1.3k CW! very intense chapter. violent acts, domestic abuse, mentions of blood a/n: sorry pt 2 please don't kill me. as always, tl;dr at the end.

It’s hard to tell how long it’s been since he threw the first punch. It could have been mere minutes or a whole hour. You have no idea. All you know is that everything hurts.

He’s been spewing hateful words ever since he barged into the apartment but at this point you can’t even hear him anymore, too focused on the searing pain that’s spreading all over your body. You can taste the familiar and you’re pretty sure your leg is broken from the way it’s angled funny.

“Are you even listening to me you fucking whore?” His hands are suddenly around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your weak hands to grasp at his own to pull them away but it’s a useless attempt. Your energy is rapidly fading and your vision swims in and out of focus.

You try to hold on but you’re losing consciousness fast and a single tear runs down your good eye. You can’t help but think that this is it, you were probably about to die. Yet the only thing on your mind is your boys. Instead of your own shitty life flashing by, it’s all your favorite memories you have with them in the short amount of time you’ve gotten to have them. It’s a rather nice way to go you suppose, being reminded of their love. After all, it’s probably the last time you’ll get to see them, even if it’s like this.

Hyunjin and Minho bicker while the climb up the stairs to the apartment, the older exasperated at the fact that Hyunjin did in fact misplace his keys once again. First they were late because he insisted he only needed one thing from the art store now to only find he really did not have his keys with him. Once they reach the apartment however, the door is already open and slightly ajar. The two exchange quick glances before barging in.

They can hear loud yelling and peaking from just behind the couch are your feet. Quickly, they run further into the apartment only to find you, bruised and bleeding with a male on top of you.

Hyunjin screams and Minho sees red.

The elder of the two if quicker as he jumps in to pull the male off of you. There’s not a single scratch on the strange man and it only fuels his anger. You couldn’t even fight back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Minho spits at the man, his fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. The male towers over him by a good few inches but Minho could care less.

“Ha! Let me guess? One of her soulmates?” He says the word in a condescending manner, an ugly sneer on his face. “Sorry. I was just teaching her a much needed lesson,” The man grins and his teeth are yellow, alcohol lingering in his breath and it makes Minho cringe back.

Minho doesn’t need to hear anything else as he pulls his fist back and smashes it into the mans face. He watches with a satisfying smirk as the other falls to the ground, clutching his now bleeding nose. Minho doesn’t give him another chance to get back up, kicking him in the gut so he stays on the ground.

Minho hovers over the male with a scowl curling at his lips before spitting in the others face. He brings his foot up, aiming directly for his face. “Fuck. You. This is for my soulmate,” and then he brings his heel down. A sickening crunch is heard and Minho knows that he has successfully broken the others nose. The man is unconscious now, blood dripping from his nose but it’s the least of Minho’s worries. He glances over to you, seeing that Hyunjin is currently taking care of you so he slips his phone out to call the police.

Hyunjin is hovering over you, delicately cupping your face in his shaky hands. One of your eyes is completely swollen, turning a nasty shade of purple and there is a similar bruise starting to develop around your neck. You’re completely out of it, your breathing shallow and Hyunjin doesn’t even think you notice that he’s here with you as he tries to get you to focus on him.

“Baby. Baby, shhh. You’re ok now. Help is on the way, yeah?” You don’t respond or even look at him and it only makes him cry even harder. Fat tears run down his cheeks at how broken you look in his arms. How could anyone do this to someone else? Let alone to you. “Please…Please baby, look at me…” He all but begs, patting your cheeks lightly. Anything for you to focus on him.

“J-Jinnie?” Your voice is hoarse and raw but it has Hyunjin breathing out a sigh of relief. You look up at him slowly, eyes blinking drowsily.

“There you are. Hello my muse,” He tries to smile through his tears. “Keep those pretty eyes open for me ok? Help is on the way,” Hyunjin says in a gentle voice, stroking your cheek. You’re still very much out of it, unable to focus completely on him and it makes him frown. You mumble something as your eyes start to droop once more, causing the poor boy to start panicking.

“Hyun….” You try to call out to him but he just shushes you, squeezing your hands.

“Shh, it’s ok princess. You don’t need to say anything,” But you shake your head, grimacing as a wave of pain filters through your body. You need to say this. Even if it’s the last thing you do.

“Mm- Tell…Tell the boys that…I love them,” You manage to say and Hyunjin feels like his heart is breaking.

“Tell them yourself,” He says, begging for you to stay with him. You just smile softly, barely holding on with your lids feeling heavy. “No no no no. Baby, you can’t close your eyes,” He says, gently shaking you in an attempt to keep you awake but it’s all futile as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you fall unconscious.

“Baby! Baby no! Hyung!! HYUNG! She’s unconscious!” Hyunjin screams, now full on crying as he clutches your body to his.

Minho’s grip on his phone is so tight he’s almost worried it’ll shatter as he quickly calls Chan.

“Hello? What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be driving yn to work?” Chan answers on the first ring, always reliable. Minho has to take a deep breath to calm himself.

“…Hyung,” His own voice cracks, lower lip wobbling. “Come home. Now.”

“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Theres….been an incident. I need you to come home. NOW.” Minho is demanding, making sure Chan understands that he isn’t asking.

“Ok, ok. I’ll come home right now,”

“Send the others to the hospital. I’ll have Hyunjin call them,”

“The hospital? What? Minho what is going on? Shouldn’t I meet you at the hospital then? Is yn okay??” Chan goes into his ‘leader’ mode, asking way too many questions that Minho isn’t willing to answer right now.

“No. I need you home because I can’t guarantee that I will wait for the police to arrive. I will fucking kill him,” Minho’s tone is deadly as he sneers towards the still unconscious male. Chan on the other line is concerned and confused. He can vaguely hear Hyunjin’s sobs in the background and with the way Minho’s talking he knows he’s not about to get any answers right now.

“Ok Min. I’m on my way home. Just…wait for me, ok?”

He takes another deep breath. “Ok hyung…please hurry,” His voice cracks again before he hangs up, unable to be away from you any longer.

Hyunjin’s still sobbing uncontrollably as Minho comes over and sits silently next to him. He reaches out to grasp at your hand, hating the way its limp against his own. Still, he clutches it like it’s his lifeline.

“…please be ok. You have to be ok,” Minho whispers a quick prayer, squeezing your hand.

TL;DR: yn's brother chokes her and she falls unconscious. hyunjin holds her as she tells him to tell the boys that she loves them. minho comes to curb stomp him and calls the police + chan to come home.

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[imaginaryf1shots]

The Perfect Family | Fernando Alonso

WC: 4K

Fernando x Actress!Wife!reader

Summer: I mixed 3 requests for this one(sorry) Request 1, Request 2, REquest 3

WArning: Fluff overload

Masterlist

Fernando masterlist

The soft light of the early morning filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the master bedroom. The peaceful silence was abruptly broken by the sound of small footsteps racing down the hallway, accompanied by the excited whispers of two young children trying (and failing) to keep their voices low.

“Shh, you’ll wake him up!” The older one said, giggling as they approached the large bed.

“But we’re supposed to wake him up!” The younger replied, clutching a homemade card tightly in his hand.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing two beaming faces as they tiptoed their way into the room. With a quick glance at their mother, who was already awake and sitting up against the headboard, they grinned and made their move, just like they agreed with their mother the night before.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” They both yelled, leaping onto the bed in a flurry of arms and legs.

Fernando stirred from his peaceful sleep, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of his son and daughter climbing all over him, their faces glowing with excitement. A lazy smile crept across his face as he blinked away the last traces of sleep.

“Well, this is quite the wake-up call.” He chuckled, sitting up and pulling the kids into a hug. “Are you sure it’s my birthday? I feel like it’s yours with all this energy.”

The kids giggled, proudly handing him their cards. One had a drawing of a race car, hastily coloured with bright crayons, while the other was covered in glitter and stickers. Fernando’s heart swelled as he looked at their creations, his smile softening as he glanced at the love poured into every detail.

“These are perfect.” He said, his voice full of warmth. “I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

You watched the scene unfold from your spot beside him, your own smile broad as you leaned against the headboard, taking it all in. You were content, watching the man you loved more than anything in the world with the two little humans you’ve created together. You couldn’t resist reaching out and running your hand through Fernando’s tousled hair.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” You teased, your voice soft yet playful. “You survived another year with us.”

Fernando turned his head toward you, his eyes locking with yours. The connection between you was immediate and electric, even after all these years. He leaned in and stole a quick kiss, which earned groans of protest from the kids, who immediately pushed between you, giggling.

“Ew! No kissing!”

You laughed and shrugged, sharing a knowing look with Fernando. “Guess we’ll have to behave ourselves.”

“For now.” He winked, pulling the kids in tighter as they wriggled with excitement.

As the chaos of the morning continued, kids bouncing on the bed, vying for their dad’s attention, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. This life they’d built together was everything you had ever dreamed of. Despite both of yout glamorous careers and busy schedules, mornings like this, filled with love and laughter, were what truly mattered.

Eventually, Fernando sat up fully, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as the kids jumped off to drag him downstairs. He turned to you, offering you his hand with a smile that still made your heart skip a beat.

“Coming?” He asked, his voice gentle, filled with the same affection he’d always had for you, and only you. Well until your kids came into the picture.

You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his touch, and followed him as you made your way downstairs, the sound of your children’s laughter echoing through the house.

The scent of pancakes filled the air as the kids scurried around the kitchen, giggling and whispering, while Fernando lingered at the doorway, taking in the scene. He went to the bathroom to freshen up, and when he came back, the kitchen was a cheerful mess, flour dusted on the countertops, sticky batter splattered near the stove, and a scattering of balloons tied to chairs. In the middle of it all, you stood, smiling at your children’s efforts, your eyes sparkling as you flipped the last pancake onto a towering stack.

Fernando’s grin widened as he stepped closer, the sight of his family busy in their joyful chaos making his heart feel full.

“Good morning, chef.” He teased, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you stood at the stove. You leaned back into him, smiling up at him over your shoulder.

“Good morning to you too, Nando.” You replied, turning your head slightly so he could brush a kiss against your cheek. “Your little sous-chefs have been working hard.”

As if on cue, the kids rushed toward the table, proudly carrying a cake they had decorated themselves. It was lopsided, with icing smudged unevenly across its surface and crooked candles sticking out at odd angles. But the love and effort were unmistakable, and Fernando’s heart swelled as they placed the cake down in front of him with wide, excited eyes.

“Look what we made!” They cried, practically vibrating with excitement.

“It’s perfect.” Fernando said, kneeling down to their level. “I love it. Thank you, my little chefs.”

The kids beamed, bouncing on their feet, thrilled with their accomplishment. You leaned against the counter, watching the three of them interact with a fond smile. Moments like this, where the love between them was so natural, so unguarded, were the ones that mattered most.

“We also made pancakes.” Your daughter piped up, grabbing one of the plates off the table and holding it up triumphantly.

You chuckled, stepping forward to help her balance the wobbling plate. “Careful, we don’t want to lose those before papá can enjoy them.”

Fernando stood, reaching for the plate with a wink. “I think I’ve got this under control.” He said, before taking a playful bite out of a pancake straight from the plate.

The kids dissolved into giggles, and you shook your head, trying to look stern but failing miserably as you laughed along with them. “You’re supposed to wait until we’ve lit the candles!”

“Oops.” Fernando said, feigning innocence as he chewed, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Guess I couldn’t wait. They’re too good.”

You swatted his arm playfully, grabbing a lighter and signalling for the kids to gather around the cake. Fernando took his seat at the head of the table as the kids hurried to join him, excitedly waiting for their turn to help with the candles.

Once the candles were lit, the kids started singing. Loud, off-key, and with more enthusiasm than rhythm, but Fernando loved every second of it. He watched them, his gaze shifting to you, who was singing along, your voice soft and sweet as you smiled at him from across the table.

As the last note of the song lingered in the air, Fernando leaned forward to blow out the candles, making sure to close his eyes and wish for what he already knew he had, this life, this family, and the love that surrounded him every day.

When he opened his eyes, the kids clapped and cheered, rushing forward to grab slices of cake while you set down plates of pancakes for everyone. The table filled with laughter and chatter as you all ate, your morning together unfolding in easy, loving chaos.

After a while, as the kids were distracted by their attempts to pile more syrup onto their plates, Fernando reached across the table and caught your hand. You looked up, your smile softening as your eyes met.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“For what?”

“For all of this.” He said, gesturing to the happy scene around them. “For the pancakes, the cake, the chaos. For being the heart of our family.”

Your smile deepened, a warmth blooming in your chest. 

“You’re just getting sentimental because it’s your birthday.” You teased lightly, but your eyes told him you felt the same way.

He squeezed your hand gently, holding your gaze for a long moment before one of the kids interrupted by spilling syrup all over the table, eliciting another round of giggles.

You sighed, standing up to help clean the mess as Fernando smiled, watching you with a look that said more than words ever could. Even after all these years, you still had the ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

This was his favourite part of every birthday—not the gifts or the attention, but the quiet moments with his family, the moments that reminded him just how deeply he was loved. That thought led him to years ago, he could still feel the energy of that day, the excitement, the cameras, and the undeniable magnetism between him and you that had made you the centre of attention wherever you both went.

It had been a whirlwind. The kind of romance that felt too intense, too perfect to be real, like something out of your own films. But this wasn’t a script. It was Fernando Alonso, two-time world champion, international racing icon, and now, somehow, your boyfriend.

You  sat on your couch, phone in hand, as your notifications exploded one after the other. Articles, social media mentions, texts from friends—all filled with shock, speculation, and excitement. **Fernando Alonso, F1 Legend, Dating Hollywood’s Darling**—the headlines practically screamed at you from every screen.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you scrolled through the flood of messages. You weren't surprised, you knew this day would come. After months of dating under the radar, sneaking into races, avoiding paparazzi, and managing the chaos of your very different lives, it was only a matter of time before the world found out.

Your phone buzzed again, and you glanced at the message that had just come through.

Nando <3 

Ignore the noise. See you tonight?

You smiled despite the chaos, feeling a rush of warmth at his confidence. He had been so calm about it all, even when the whispers started and the photographers lingered longer than usual after race weekends. For him, it was simple, they liked each other, and that was all that mattered.

You  glanced out of the window, the Los Angeles skyline shimmering in the early evening light. Despite the fame, the cameras, and the world’s fascination with your relationship, the thing that struck you most was how normal it felt when you were together. Whether you were on a movie set or sitting in the paddock, it was as if your worlds seamlessly blended whenever you were with each other.

Your phone buzzed again, this time a call.

“Hello?” You answered, leaning back into the couch.

“I take it you’ve seen the news?” Fernando’s voice came through the line, calm but amused.

“Yeah.” You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “It’s… everywhere. I’m not sure what’s more surprising to them, the fact that you’re dating me or that I’m dating you.”

He chuckled softly. “I think they’re just shocked they didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“True.” You agreed, biting your lip. “It’s not like we’ve been really hiding.”

“No, but I kind of liked sneaking around.” He teased. “I mean, how often do you get to watch a race incognito?”

You laughed, remembering the times you’d sat in his garage or hidden in the team’s hospitality, trying to blend in while he was out on track. No one had suspected that the glamorous actress was there for the F1 star, let alone that you were dating. It had been fun, in a way, but you had always known that it wouldn’t last forever.

“I guess the secret’s out.” You said with a sigh, leaning your head against the armrest of the couch.

“And how do you feel about that?” Fernando asked, his tone softening slightly.

You thought for a moment. The truth was, you didn’t mind. You had always known what came with dating someone as famous as Fernando, and it wasn’t like you weren't used to media attention yourself. But there was something vulnerable about sharing this part of your life with the world. It wasn’t just your career or your image, it was you as a couple, your relationship, and you wanted to protect that.

“I’m okay.” You finally said. “I mean, it’s weird seeing it everywhere, but I’m not surprised. I just… I don’t want this to change things between us, you know?”

“It won’t.” Fernando said firmly. “We knew this was coming. They’ll talk for a while, but then it’ll die down. And until then, we just focus on what matters, us.”

You smiled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. As always, Fernando had a way of putting things into perspective, of making you feel like the outside noise didn’t matter as long as you were on the same page.

“You’re right.” You said softly. “I just don’t want this to get in the way of what we have.”

“It won’t.” He reassured You. “I promise. We’ll handle it like we always do, together.”

His words brought a sense of calm, and you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. “For being so… you.”

He chuckled again, that warm, familiar sound that made your heart flutter. “What time should I pick you up tonight?”

You glanced at the clock. “Eight?”

“Perfect,” He said. “We’ll go somewhere quiet, just us.”

Later that evening, as Fernando pulled up outside your house, the paparazzi were already gathered, hoping for a glimpse of the now-famous couple. He stepped out of the car, wearing a casual suit that made him look effortlessly handsome, his dark hair slightly tousled. The cameras flashed, the journalists shouted questions, but he didn’t give them more than a glance. His focus was on you.

You stepped outside, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, and as you approached, his eyes lit up, as they always did when he saw you. He opened the car door for you, offering a small smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“You look amazing.” He said quietly, once you were both seated inside.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You replied, smiling back at him.

As he drove away, the cameras still flashing behind you, you realised that it didn’t matter what the world thought. All that mattered was this—being with him, sharing these moments, and knowing that despite the noise, you were building something real, something lasting.

You weren’t just a headline, you were two people crazy about each other, navigating their crazy lives together. And that was worth every single camera flash.

**

It was your first public appearance as newlyweds. 

The paddock was buzzing with its usual pre-race intensity. Journalists, photographers, and fans lined the barriers, hoping for a glimpse of the drivers and teams making their way through the paddock. But on that particular day, it wasn’t just Fernando’s race form or team strategies that had everyone talking—it was THE y/n Alonso.

You walked beside Fernando, your arm linked with his, and the whole world seemed to pause for just a moment. Dressed in a sleek, elegant outfit, your hair falling perfectly in soft waves, you looked every bit the Hollywood starlet you were. Yet there was something more, something in the way you carried yourself, not as a distant celebrity, but as the woman who had captured the heart of the man at the centre of the racing world.

As you made your way through the crowd, the cameras followed your every step, flashing in rapid succession. Photographers called out for you to stop, to pose, to give them just a moment to capture the new married couple.

Fernando couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He glanced at you, his eyes full of love and affection, and you returned the look with a warm, knowing smile of your own. It wasn’t the flashing cameras or the attention that mattered, it was the fact that you were together, fully in sync, navigating the spotlight with ease.

The media had been obsessed with you ever since news of their relationship first broke, dubbing them an "it couple" almost immediately. But your recent wedding has elevated that status even further. Now, you were the ultimate power couple, the perfect blend of F1 prestige and Hollywood glamour. Every eye was on them, every headline speculating about your next move.

As you stopped briefly for a few photos, the crowd pressed closer, eager to capture a perfect shot of the two of you. Fernando slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. The move was subtle, but intimate, as if to remind the world that no matter how famous you were or how much attention you received, what mattered most was each other.

You placed a hand on his chest, tilting your head slightly to the side as you smiled for the cameras, perfectly poised and radiant.

“They really can’t get enough of us, huh?” You whispered, your voice low enough that only he could hear.

“They’re not wrong.” You replied, his voice teasing. “You’re stealing all the attention. I’m just here for the ride.”

You laughed softly, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder. “Please, you’re the star of the show. I’m just along for support.”

He shook his head, grinning as you resumed walking. “Not today. Today, you’re the one they’re all here for.”

You continued down the paddock, passing other drivers, team members, and celebrities who offered smiles, handshakes, and a few congratulations.

As you reached the end of the paddock, preparing to head into the garage for pre-race preparations, Fernando paused for a moment. He turned toward you, his eyes scanning your face, and for a second, the world around you seemed to fade away. All he saw was you, his wife, the one who had chosen him despite the chaos of your worlds.

“You okay?” You asked, noticing the way he was looking at you.

“More than okay.” He replied, his voice soft. “I’m just thinking… how lucky I am.”

You smiled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, careful not to smudge the makeup you had so carefully applied. “I’m the lucky one.” You whispered, before pulling back and nodding toward the garage. “Now go win your race.”

With a wink, he headed off, but not before stealing one last glance at you over his shoulder. You were already being pulled into another conversation with someone from the media, but the way your eyes followed him, even in the midst of the paddock chaos, made it clear you were with him, no matter how public your lives had become.

And just like that, the memory faded, bringing him back to the present, where the smell of pancakes and the sound of his children’s laughter reminded him that the best days of his life were the ones he was living right now.

The sun had set, casting a soft golden glow over the Alonso household as the day began to wind down. The kids, still buzzing from the excitement of celebrating their father’s birthday, were finally settled in bed, their tiny snores filling the quiet air. 

Fernando stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching you as you slipped into your pyjamas, your back turned toward him. The dim light in the room cast a soft shadow over your silhouette, and for a moment, he simply watched you, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

“Long day, huh?” You said softly, turning around to find him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes warm and affectionate as they met yours.

“The best kind of long day,” He replied with a gentle smile.

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You stayed like that for a few moments, simply breathing each other in, your hearts beating in time.

“I think the kids outdid themselves this year.” You said, your voice muffled slightly as you kept your face against his chest.

“They did.” Fernando agreed, his hand gently rubbing your back. “The cake was a masterpiece. A bit uneven, but—”

“A masterpiece nonetheless.” You finished with a laugh, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

He gazed down at you, his eyes soft but filled with that same spark that had always been there, even from the beginning. 

“I have everything I could ever want.” He murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. “You’re just saying that because it’s your birthday.”

“No.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “I mean it. You, the kids… this life we’ve built together. It’s more than I ever imagined.”

You shared a quiet moment, the kind of moment where words weren’t needed. The weight of everything you had been through, all the years together—the highs, the lows, the laughter, the love—was all right there between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

You pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss that spoke of years of love and trust. Even after all this time, even after countless kisses, there was something about the way he kissed you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. And that’s exactly how Fernando saw you, his everything.

When you finally pulled away, he took your hand, leading you over to the bed. You climbed in together, settling into your usual comfortable positions, your head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around you, keeping you close. The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the night outside.

“You remember our first birthday together?” He asked, his voice low, laced with nostalgia.

You chuckled, thinking back to that early stage of your relationship, when everything had still been so new and exciting. “I do. You insisted we celebrate in the paddock.”

“And I remember how nervous I was to bring you into that world,” Fernando admitted. “I knew what it would mean, being seen with you. The attention, the headlines.”

“And yet, you didn’t care.” You teased, looking up at him.

“I didn’t.” He agreed, smiling softly. “Because none of it mattered. The only thing I cared about was you. And that’s still true, even now.”

Your smile softened as you traced small circles on his chest. “And I wouldn’t change a thing. Not the paddock appearances, not the attention, not even the chaos.”

“Me neither.” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet emotion.

You lay in silence for a while, simply enjoying the comfort of being together, your bodies perfectly in sync after so many years of sharing a life. You thought back on all the memories you had created, the milestones you had reached, not just as individuals, but as partners, as a family. You had come so far from those early days of sneaking around, of dodging paparazzi.

Now, you were more than just a couple, you were a team. And that team had grown to include two beautiful children, who had filled your lives with even more love and joy than you had ever imagined.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

“For what?” Fernando asked, turning his head slightly to look down at you.

“For everything.” You said, your eyes meeting his. “For this life, for our family, for always being there.”

He smiled, his heart swelling with love for the woman beside him. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just as grateful for you.”

You closed your eyes, snuggling closer to him as the weight of the day finally began to catch up with you. “Still… I’m lucky to have you.”

“And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You drifted off to sleep like that, tangled up in each other, your hearts full, your lives complete. Even after all the years, all the adventures, and all the challenges, your love remained the constant, the foundation of everything you had built together.

Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

[love-bitesx]

was booking myself a new tattoo and this is all i could think of ! this is just brainrot ramble

: ̗̀➛ hobie brown x gn!reader - giving him tattoos (and yourself)

thinking about giving hobie sweet little tattoos with a makeshift stick and poke set up. he'd come home drunk one night, slurring his words and holding you close to him, ranting about how he wants you to give him a tattoo (and something about not wanting to pay big corporations for a real tattoo gun). even if you’re not creative, he just wants to be able to look at his skin and see evidence of you, always. you refuse him at the time, telling him he's too drunk and he'll regret it. but when it's the next day, and he's stone cold sober, you walk in on him hunched over the kitchen table, making a little stick and poke creation.

so, it’s late at night, he’s sprawled out across your bed like it was his, his head and shoulders pressed into the headboard, eyes trained on you. straddling his lap, you held his arm up to the lamp, tongue stuck out in concentration. hobie winced everytime the needle met his skin, his free hand gripping at your thigh to outlet the pain. when you're done, and he's all cleaned up, he's lit up with pride, constantly checking his arm in different lights to see your design. "it's perfect, darlin'," he mutters, his lips pressed to your forehead.

he’d very rarely ever wear sleeves again after that, always having your design on show to remind him of you when he’s away. not that he needed it, you always had a comfortable seat in the front of his mind. he’d show it off to his friends, though, all the time.

"oi, pav!" he'd call out to his friend, drawing his attention over to his exposed skin.

"you got a tattoo!" pav would exclaim, hopping over and inspecting it closely.

“my partner did it,” he couldn’t mask the grin from fuzzing his cheeks, “fuckin' sick, right?”

his heart wasn't even prepared for what he'd come home to that night. when he'd climb in through your window, shedding his spider-apparel and kicking his boots off by your dresser, he'd notice your sleeping form. smiling to himself, picking up the sheets and climbing into the empty space, careful not to startle you – not that it would, you were more used to waking up beside him than alone.

his hands wouldn't be able to stop themselves from touching you, needing to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, and beaming at the sleepy sound of his name leaving your lips. when his hands find your hip, however, you jump and groan in pain. he'd pull you to him.

"'the fuck 'appened?" he'd whisper, careful not to touch the area again, but be confused at your reaction.

"tattoo," is all he could catch, through your tired, and possibly pained, groans.

"you what?" he'd mutter, and lift the covers back, hiking up your his t-shirt to expose a tiny black design, sitting on the skin above your hip bone.

etched into you was a tiny spider, hand drawn and adorned with little spikes, similar to his persona. he'd be so taken aback, he wouldn't even know what to say.

"'s'this for me, sweetheart?" his fingers would very lightly ghost the dark outlines, honing into your body's reaction to it, steering clear of the painful areas. he's close to you, very close, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"mhmm," you moan, your brain finally pulling itself from slumber, warm in the smell of him, tangling your arms around his neck, "all for you."

"fuckin' ell," he breathed before kissing you with such a passion you'd never felt from him before. he was drowning in you, head buzzed at the thought of something of him being on your skin forever, and you on his. heart pouring, he reached for you in every way he could.

he'd be obsessed with both of the tattoos, strongly encouraging you to never ever wear anything high-waisted again, so long as he steered away from sleeves. pride and happiness overtook him when he'd see you with other people, in public or with friends, and see the black ink peek through your clothes, knowing that it was for him, and nobody else.

he just loved you a lot, and he adores the permanent reminders.

[hazbinwhoree]

adam is a criminal. the underwear kind, got new underwear? gone after a few uses. got regular underwear? also gone. you dont mind. but you do ask he gives each pair back about 2 weeks after kidnapping them. your poor babies, god knows what Adam does with them while they're not in your possession. actually do tell us, what does he do with them?

Panties Thief

A/N: Adam’s a perv, he’d totally do this.

Whenever (Name) goes to do her laundry, she notices she’s missing panties that she definitely remembers putting in the hamper. Two weeks later, Adam would give them back. (Name) had a pretty good idea of what he was doing with them, but Adam handed them back so casually she couldn’t call him out.

New pairs, old pairs, if they were worn, they were stolen.

It was Tuesday afternoon, one o’clock to be precise, and (Name) was headed home. She was never home around one, so Adam wouldn’t be expecting her. (Name) thought nothing of that fact until she walked up and into their room.

Adam was laying on the bed, a pair of her panties held up to his nose, jerking off. (Name)’s jaw dropped. She should be offended, disgusted even, but for some reason it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen Adam do.

“So that’s what you do with them,” she announced, making her presence known.

Adam jumped, shoving the panties under the pillows and sitting up to stare at (Name), wide-eyed. “W-what the fuck are you doing home?”

(Name) grinned. “Hiding them under the pillow? I saw you Adam.” Adam swallowed. (Name) approached him, pushing him onto his back on the bed and crawling on top of him. He wasn’t wearing his mask, to (Name)’s pleasant surprise.

“No mask?”

“Can’t fully smell with it,” Adam mumbled, embarrassed.

(Name) grinned, running her hands up his chest. “That’s fair. So often do you do this? I’m guessing quite often considering how many of my panties you take.”

Adam was looking anywhere but her. His dick was still out and half hard, and (Name) grabbed it. Adam choked. (Name) began pumping her fist and Adam moaned, quickly becoming fully hard again. (Name) smirked.

“You’ve been having all this fun without me.”

Adam scowled. “I only do it when you’re not here to fuck.”

(Name) let go of his dick, much to his dismay, but his disappointment was quickly dissipated when she began to tug down her pants and panties. When she was bare on her lower half, she climbed into Adam’s lap and straddled his dick.

Adam reached up and pulled (Name)’s shirt over her head before his hands snuck around her back and he unclipped her bra.

(Name) grinded down on his dick and Adam groaned, feeling how wet she was.

“Well I’m here for you to fuck now.”

Adam tossed the panties to the floor. He pushed (Name) off him and onto her back, covering her small frame with his large one, pinning her to the bed. He didn’t bother with foreplay, which he figured they’d technically already done.

(Name) was wet enough anyway.

He lined himself up with her opening and thrust in all at once. (Name) cried out and threw her head back. Her nails scraped down his back.

Adam began to roll his hips, his thrusts very quickly picking up in speed and intensity. (Name) moaned and whined with each thrust, one hand scratching Adam’s back and the other hand tangling in the hair at the back of his head.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, pants and moans. Adam grunted, hips slamming against (Name) as he pounded into her.

“I love you,” Adam panted. “I’m glad you’re home.”

(Name) giggled, out of breath. “And I’m glad I figured out what you do with all my panties.”

Adam chuckled breathily. “Whatever.” He thrust particularly hard and (Name) cried out, clenching around him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

It didn’t take much longer for Adam’s thrusts to become sloppy and sporadic as he neared his climax. “Gonna fucking cum in you,” he mumbled against (Name)’s forehead. (Name) whimpered. “Please.”

Her neediness pushed Adam over the edge and with one final thrust he pushed all of himself into her and painted her womb white. (Name)’s tightening around him milked every drop from him as she came right after.

“Fuck,” Adam gasped, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from (Name)’s heaving chest. He felt his dick twitch.

“Wanna go again?”

[samandcolbyownme]

HEYYY love ur writing more than anything and was wondering if you could do a johnnie smut or like a jake and johnnie one?? if not another S&C one would be great. ur a godsend ❤️

Summary: “Frontman Vic Fuentes explained the song's meaning. “It's a love song to my girl about ignoring all the internet hate we got when we first started dating and focusing on each other instead."”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, referring to hate/hate comments etc, breakup up (kinda), cigarettes, kinda sad at first ngl but I’ll make it up to you, kissing, hair pulling, cute and sensual unprotected sex, creampie, fluffy filth

Word Count: little over 2k | unedited

I know this fic in particular is fiction, but in reality, there’s absolutely no need for hate towards anyone’s significant other.

You pulled your hand away from the door handle, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You were shaking, you couldn’t help that no matter how hard you tried.

As you go to finally open the door, Johnnie pulls it open, “Hey, baby.” He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as you break down.

The hate you’ve been receiving lately has been really getting to you.

You didn’t understand. Everyone loved you before anything was even confirmed, you didn’t know where you went wrong.

“I-I..” you gasp out, and Johnnie shakes his head, “Don’t. Don’t do that.” He closes the door and leans back, “Don’t apologize to me for how you feel.”

He brushes hair from your face and as soon as you look up at him, his face falls and you close your eyes, hanging your head.

“No, y/n. We don’t have to do this.” Johnnie goes to cup your cheeks but you push his hands away, “You’re not going to grow if they hate me.”

“So fucking what.” Johnnie scoffs, “You do understand that I care more about you than that channel right?”

You stay silent, set on your decision.

“Y/n.” Johnnie steps clsoeer, “Please, don’t-“ he takes a ragged breath, “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t say what I know you’re about to say.”

“If you know the. I don’t need to say anything else.” You sniffle, shaking your head, “I-I’m sorry.. I just can’t let myself get in between you and your, literal job, Johnnie.”

You step back, reaching for the handle, “I’m sorry. I need..” you try not to cry, “Just give me a few days.”

And with that, you left. Tears stream down your face as Johnnie stands there, watching you walk out of his life.

Or so you thought.

Johnnie wasn’t giving up that easily.

——

You left Johnnie’s around eleven this morning.

It’s now eight at night. The sun has set, leaving you along in the darkness of your fire escape as you sit and smoke the last cigarette you have.

You felt like you gave up too soon, gave up on Johnnie too soon, and that’s what wrecked you the most. Of course, it didn’t hit you until you got home and sat in silence.

You look up at the sky, eyes moving between each star.

“Hey.”

You jump, whipping your head over to see Johnnie standing at your bedroom window, “What are you doing here?” You look away from him, “I told you to give me a few days.”

“I gave you time.” He climbs through the window, moving to sit next to you, “You knew I wouldn’t wait a few days.”

You laugh slightly, tears welling in your eyes as you ash the last of your cigarette before tossing it over the side of the railing, “I just-“

“Don’t. It’s my turn to say something.” Johnnie cuts you off and you nod, motioning out in front of you, “Floors yours.”

“There’s rage is us.” Johnnie starts out, “You can’t pull the plug on us because I’ll keep on shaking and waiting for you.”

“Shaking?” You laugh slightly, “I’m not some drug, Johnnie.”

“But you are, y/n. You literally..” he takes a deep breath, “You’re the epitome of happiness for me, y/n. Without you, I feel like I was hooked on some sort of mind altering drug and I can’t function without you.”

You look down and Johnnie turns towards you, “There’s too much to lose here, y/n. We’ve known each other for so long and we’ve grown into-“

“Painful lust that makes my stomach hurt?”

“What do you mean?” Johnnie shakes his head slightly, “You’re more-“

“I meant like..” you sigh, “We started hooking up, and obviously it grew into more and maybe we should have just kept it at that. No feelings. No one being pissed off that you’re dating me?” You scoff, voice breaking, “I ju-“

“You knew our relationship wasn’t going to be just a happy vacation, y/n. You told me that, do you remember? You told me that-“

“I’ll stick with you through everything.” You look over at him and he shrugs, “So what? There’s no motivation to stay in this together? To hold me up when I need you? Or me to hold you up? You know I’d do anything for you, y/n.”

You grab your cigarette pack, letting out a groan when you remember it’s empty. Johnnie reaches into his pocket and hands you his, “Here.”

You take it, pulling one out and lighting it, “Thanks.”

He shakes his head when you go to give the pack back, “Keep it.”

“Should probably quit.” You mumble as you bring it to your lips. Johnnie chuckles, reaching over to take one out and you hand him your lighter.

“We could fake our own deaths.”

You look over at Johnnie, “We can what?”

“Think about it y/n. You said you wanna chase the moon like fire. So we can fake our own deaths and just go live in the woods or something.”

You laugh slightly, “You’re insane, Johnnie, we can just-“

“Do you remember when you got kicked out of your one apartment? Had to sleep in your car?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t need to be reminded of that.”

“No listen. You didn’t want to just move in with me, so we’d just hang out together. You’d roll the windows down, and we’d pretend we were sitting at the beach. It was enough to believe that your life didn’t get turned upside down.” Johnnie slides his hand over to your free hand as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

“What are you trying to say?” You look over at his hand on yours and up to his face. He blows out the smoke, “I’m saying that we can make the best out of any situation.”

“I don’t know how we can make the best out of your channel going to hell because of me.” You pull your hand away, flicking your cigarette before you climb back into your bedroom.

Johnnie is quick to follow your actions, grabbing your arms and spinning you around, “listen, I’m just a stupid motherfucker and I wish I could figure out how to get everyone to understand that I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

He reaches up to gently brush his thumb over your cheek, “I want to breathe in your rush. Y/n, I want to leap when you tell me to fly.”

You lay your hand on his cheek, “Johnnie.”,

“Darling I-“ Johnnie sighs, “I don’t mean to beg it’s just that the thorns on the stem of you potentially leaving me..” he shakes his head, “It feels like it’s tearing up my skin.”

You blink, tears fall and Johnnie’s follow, “Please.” He whispers, leaning in to rest his forehead on yours, “I just want to be alone and watch as they all just disappear.”

You lay your hands on his neck, sniffling as you tilt your head up to press your lips into his. His grip tightens on your face as he pulls you in closer.

He backs you up to your bed, watching as you sit down and lift your shirt up over your head, “I want you in every way possible, Johnnie.”

He nods, moving to push you back gently as his lips find yours.

“Just close your eyes.” He kisses down your neck, “Just picture you and I.” He kisses back up, “Well sell daylight for gasoline.”

He leans his head back, “Just you and me. We can go wherever you want.”

You reach up, running your hand through his hair, “You mean that?”

He nods.

“Prove it.”

Johnnie sits up, taking off his jacket and shirt before leaning down to kiss you. Everything is slow, but so full of passion. He reaches down, pushing down your sweats and you kick them off.

He stands up, taking off the rest of his cltohes before his body is against yours under the blankets. His hand travels up and down your side, landing on your cheek as your hand slides down his chest.

He rolls over, the tip of his cock brushes against where you need him most.

You slide your hands up his arms, hooking one around his neck as he leans down and slides into you.

You moan loudly, eyes closing tight, “Fuck.”

Johnnie groans, “You feel so good, baby.” He kisses your shoulder and up your neck to your lips. He groans lowly as you gasp, moaning out as he starts to slowly thrust.

You tighten your legs around his waist, “I love you. I’m so-sorry.” Your voice breaks and Johnnie shakes his head, pecking your lips, “Don’t. Just don’t think about that.”

“Think about us. Just us. No one matters but you and me.”

“I only want you.”

“You’re all that matters to me.”

“Fuck, y/n. I love you.”

You squeeze his cock, moaning out as your back arches off the bed. Johnnie guides you through your high, moaning lowly in your ear, “I want you for the rest of my life.”

“Johnnie.” You whimper out, “I love you.” You kiss his lips, moaning into his mouth, “I love you.”

He brushes hair from your face, propping himself up on his elbow, “You’re so beautiful.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you. So much, you don’t even know.”

You pull him in for a kiss, sitting up and laying a hand on his chest. He rolls over and you follow, straddling him and allowing his cock to slip back into you.

You slowly make out as you roll your hips. His hands slide down to grip your sides, “Doin’ so good.” He smiles up at you, watching your face twist with pleasure, “My fuckin’ girl.”

He pulls you down, lips attaching to yours, “where do you want me to-“

You push your hips down onto him, “I said I want all of you.”

He nods, “You sure?”

You nod, rolling off of him, “Yes.”

With that knowledge, Johnnie wasn’t lasting much longer, “Fuck, okay.” He groans as he slips himself back into you.

His lips find yours and your hands find his hair, tangling it around your fingers, “Don’t ever let me leave like that again.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Johnnie kisses down your neck as his thrusts grow sloppy, “Fuck.”

You gasp as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, moaning out at the thought of him filling you with everything he has, “Shit.” You pull him in, attacking his lips with yours until you feel him slip out.

He lays next to you, bringing the blanket up around you both, “I’m serious about it being just us. Maybe not the whole faking our death shit, but everything else.” He looks down at you, “I love you. If you want to go off the grid and scavenge the forests, I’ll be there.”

You laugh slightly, “I have always wanted to go to Rome. Paris. You know, all the pretty cities.”

He shrugs, “which pretty city would would want to go to first?”

You purse your lips, “Probably Rome.”

He smirks, “Rome it is.” He sits up and you follow, “Where are you going?”

He walks around to get his phone from his jeans pocket, “I’m going to Rome and if you want, you can come with.”

“Johnnie, you don’t h-“

“Just let it happen.” He bends down to kiss you, “But first.. I’m just going to..”

He sits down on the bed and you bite your lip as you watch him type out a tweet.

——

Thank you so much for reading. I love you so much and as always, I’ll see you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick grimes x teen!reader - welcome home

Second I saw you wanted requests from TWD so I thought why not (don’t know if you’ve gotten a request like this before or not but I’ll send it anyway) and I know there’s a lot of these fics out there but as Rick is my favorite character and I love all your fics that I’ve written that I have read I would love to see your take on Rick finding a child or teen and taking said child in - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

Resting your arms on the metal pipe that was behind your neck, you glanced around the street briefly, looking for anything worth looking through.

There wasn’t much in this area, and going by all the broken doors and dead laying on the ground with busted heads you would say somebody had been here.

Crouched next to one of them, you grabbed a stick from your pocket, poking it into the blood to see that it was still pretty fresh.

Tossing the stick aside, you stood up, glancing around and you heard the sound of somebody nearby.

Rushing away, you jumped up on a dumpster, using it to climb on the roof of a building and you pushed it away with the pole, making it creak.

“Shit…”

You moved back from the ledge, quietly laying down, keeping as still and quiet as possible.

You couldn’t hear anything at first, no walkers, no growling, snarling, banging, but you did hear steps coming closer.

There was movement where you had gotten up on the building, but there was no attempt to get up there, so, you weren’t sure if it were dead or human.

Either way you weren’t risking your own life, both you needed to stay away from.

You waited for a few minutes, trying to see what was going to happen, then you heard a clattering sound and you jumped up, grabbing your weapon you aimed at at the ledge you had used to get up.

A man jumped up, and he aimed his gun at you.

You made no attempt to attack him, you didn’t have that kind of firepower, he would win in a heartbeat because you never bring a knife to a gunfight, and you didn’t even have a knife, you had a metal pole.

You stared at him, and he stared back.

“Who are you?” He asked.

You refused to speak.

“Are you alone?”

You didn’t reply, you weren’t a fool, you weren’t going to tell him you were alone.

You took a step back before turning around, breaking out into a sprint you ran to the edge of the building and jumped.

Tossing your weapon, you rolled onto the next roof, picking it back up and the man ran over to the ledge of the building he was on.

He looked over at you and you looked back at him, sitting down as you just watched.

He did the same thing, both of you having a silent stare down, neither of you really speaking.

“I’m Rick.”

Rick studied you, clearly you had been out here for a long time, you clothes were torn slightly, bloodied, dirtied, there wasn’t an inch if you that wasn’t covered in dirt or blood.

He recognised the look on your face, he’d seen it before, the state you were in, he had been in it before.

You couldn’t have been much older than Carl was, you were teenager, maybe 15 or 16 if his guess was right, but nobody knew how old they really were anymore.

You seemed to debate something before you finally spoke.

“(Y/N).” You replied quietly.

Rick smiled a little, raising his hands to show you that he was putting his gun away, and you reached to the side, setting your own weapon down.

“Are you hungry?”

Rick dug through his bag, pulling out an apple and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“It’s alright, it’s safe.”

“You first.”

“You don’t trust me, I respect that. I understand. I don’t have a clean knife on me.”

You scoffed a little.

“I don’t give a fuck, bite it then, I ain’t taking shit until you’ve had it first.”

“Alright.”

Rick bite into it, showing you it was safe to eat and he held it out.

You nodded, getting up, Rick tossed it over and you caught it, sitting back down.

You knew it would be safe, he didn’t even hesitate to eat some of it, if it wasn’t in any way he would have, even just a slight hesitation.

You hadn’t had food for over a day, so you quickly devoured the apple, spitting the seeds to put them in your pocket.

You glanced at Rick, looking away with a small huff.

“You got anymore…?”

He chuckled a little, nodding.

“Yes. Here.”

He tossed you another one, and you took your time eating this one.

“Do you have a community or anything like that? Any people?” Rick asked.

You shook your head.

“Do you?”

“Before I tell you anything I’ve gotta ask you a few questions, that okay?”

You nodded your head, understanding his hesitation.

It gave you an indication he did have something, and he wanted to protect whatever it was, make sure it was safe.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

You furrowed your brows a little in confusion.

“I.. I don’t know what walkers are.”

“The dead.” He said.

“Oh, I don’t know, a lot I guess. I try to just avoid them I’m only one person.”

He nodded.

“How many people have you killed?”

“None, I avoid them too.”

“Why?”

You looked at Rick before turning away, looking at the metal pipe you had, then your hands.

“Because both the dead and people are dangerous, the dead just kill you, but people? People betray you. They’ll turn you over, turn their backs on you just to save their own asses.”

“Yeah, some people will.”

You turned your attention back to the man on the other roof.

“You didn’t answer my question, do you have a community?”

Rick smiled a little.

He had decided that you weren’t a bad person, you were scared, yes. You were unsure, you didn’t trust him, and he understood that.

“Yeah, yeah I do. I was with a few of them, we got separated. You seem pretty aware of your surroundings, have you seen any go by?”

“No, this place as been empty for a few days maybe, aside from you. There were a few of the dead, or walkers. That’s it.”

Rick sighed, nodding his head slightly.

He looked up at the sun, figuring he only had maybe an hour or so left of daylight, and that wouldn’t be enough time to find anybody.

He stood up, and you watched him.

“Come with me, it’s not safe out here and it’s going to get dark. We’ll find a place, just for the night.”

Rick went to leave but when you didn’t move he hesitated, looking between you and the way back down.

“(Y/N)?”

“There’s nowhere safe.”

“My community is, but we can’t make it in time before nightfall.”

“You won’t make it you know. They always come here at night, they pass through.”

Rick furrowed his brows a little bit and you gestured to the left side of the roof he was on.

“I hid some firewood.”

Rick looked to where you pointed, and he moved a bunch of leaves to see that you had hidden wood, a box of matches as well.

He grabbed them, putting them in a scorch mark that was already made on the roof.

As nightfall, he lit the fire and you stayed over where you were, not trusting him enough ti get any closer and that’s what worried him.

“(Y/N) please, it’s cold, you’ll freeze over there.”

“Nah, you stay there, I stay here.”

“Fine, what if we swap? You hear and me there?”

You shook your head.

“Nah, you’re too old to make that jump anyways.”

He chuckled a little, resting his arm in the edge of the roof as he looked over.

“You reckon?”

“Yeah, you’re old as shit.”

“Ouch, okay. I’m here trying to make friends and you’re just throwing insults at me.”

You grinned a little at him, leaning back on your hands.

“Rick?”

He hummed a little, looking over at you.

“What did you do before all of this?”

“I was a sheriff’s deputy. What about you? Were you in school?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t much good at it though.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I dunno, it was just hard I guess.”

Rick smiled a little.

“It’s not for everybody.”

He got up to add some more wood to the fire, and he heard you jump back over, sitting near it.

He smiled a little, sitting on the other side so you felt safer.

There were walkers down below, but they didn’t seem to care about the fire or see it, and it made sense to Rick why you were camping up there.

You saw his bag and you reached over, and he turned away so he could pretend he didn’t see you sneaking food from it.

You were hungry, and he wasn’t going to stop you from taking what you needed.

He had a whole community of food, and you had barely anything.

“What’s your community like?” You asked.

Rick looked at you, shuffling a little to the side so he was able to see you a little better.

“Well, there’s people, houses, electricity, clean, running water. Food, walls and gates. It’s safe.”

You frowned.

“Walls fall, crumble. Gates break. Food and water runs out. Just because something seems safe doesn’t mean it is…”

“Maybe, but we’ll fight to keep it safe.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s home, a place for us to stay, a place to build and grow.”

You reached into your pocket, and you pulled out some paper, unfolding it and you handed it over to him.

“We had a home like that. But my mom and dad didn’t think it was safe, so they left.”

Rick took it, looking at the drawing.

He could tell it was drawn by a younger child, by you from the way you had hastily scribbled your name in the top corner of the page.

He recognised the place, by the walls surrounding it, and the very badly spelt name.

“You’re from Alexandria?”

You nodded.

“We were, but when things got worse my parents didn’t want to be sitting like prey. They couldn’t pretend everything was fine, so we all left. They died, leaving me alone out here. Been like that for a while now.”

“Do you want to go back?”

You thought for a moment, from what you could remember Alexandria had food, it sounded like what Rick had described.

But you didn’t trust people anymore.

You weren’t used to people anymore.

“I came from Alexandria (Y/N). It’s changed, I won’t lie to you some people have died, but it till standing.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, so just think about. Our gates are always open to you. But right now you need some rest, okay? I’ll keep watch.”

You didn’t say anything, and you laid down, hands on your stomach as you stared at the sky trying to keep awake.

But you were exhausted, you’d been awake for days, and Rick posed no threat, so you fell asleep.

Rick noticed this and he covered you up with his jacket, sitting nearby to keep an eye on you.

When the sun began to rise you woke up, finding Rick standing on the edge of the building, talking to somebody down below.

You sat up, his jacket falling and you stood up, grabbing his jacket and your weapon, making your way over.

You set his jacket down and you stood on the edge beside him, looking down at the man who was on the ground.

He aimed his crossbow at you, and Rick quickly put an arm in front of you.

“Daryl no. (Y/N) is from Alexandria. Before we got there.”

“You ask the questions?”

“Yeah. Passed.”

Daryl lowered his weapon, and Rick turned to you.

“He’s a friend..” he whispered.

“Come on, we need to go. There’s more walkers comin’!” Daryl called up.

He ran to the side of the building and Rick picked his jacket up, pulling it back on and grabbed his bag, making his way over.

He jumped down, and you looked down at him.

Rick smiled, holding out his hand to you.

“It’s alright.” He said gently.

You sat down, and turned around, lowering yourself towards the dumpster, as Rick helped you down, then helped you down from there.

He and Daryl stood on either side of you, and while Daryl was wary of you, Rick would offer you a reassuring smile if you looked at him.

You saw the gates of Alexandria drawing closer, and they were open, and you slowly stopped.

You hadn’t been here for years, you hadn’t been anywhere safe for years.

Rick stopped short of the gates and he turned around, giving you a gentle smile and he walked back over.

“Hey, hey it’s okay…” he whispered.

“What if it isn’t..?”

“It will be, you’ll be safe.”

He glanced back at Daryl and a few others who were waiting nervously, looking around with their weapons raised.

You glanced past him and he stood in front of you.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. Just focus on me, yeah? You don’t have to interact with anybody else until you’re ready, just focus on me, I’ll look after you.”

You moved your eyes to his, they reminded you of your dads.

The way you dad would look at you so gently, so caring.

Rick held out his hand, and you reached up, hand shaking and you pulled away.

“I can’t do it… I.. I can’t…”

“I know you’re scared, that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared (Y/N), but we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

He glanced back, giving a look to the others who began to clear people away from the gates.

“Welcome home.” He smiled.

You reached up, taking his hand, letting him walk you into the place you once called home, the place you would call your home once more.

But times had changed, you had changed, and you didn’t know how to live among people anymore, or even if you wanted to.

Rick could see that by the way you kept your the outside of the place, you turned the underground of Alexandria into your home to stay away from everybody.

Rick made his way down, a bag on his back, and he walked over to your cot, sitting next to you.

“Here, some water, food, and some books.”

He set the bag down and you handed him back to the books you were finished with.

He didn’t want to leave you down there, but if it’s where you felt safe, where you would be semi comfortable until you trusted him, felt comfortable with people he would.

But he would always remind you that you come join the rest of Alexandra whenever you were ready

[littlebluespoon]

Unstuck (Octo!König Part 3)

Happy Halloween! Have a little treat on me <3

This one is dedicated to the lovely anon who filled my ask box with octo!König ideas. I couldn't not use the nipple piercing one, its like it was made for octopus!König.

Part 1 - Stuck Part 2 - Stuck (Again) Part 4 - Stranded

<1K, 18+, nipple piercings, top half nudity, angst

Anyway, without further rambling, part 3! Have fun!

Your three weeks of leave were wonderful, spending time with family, catching up with friends and even treating yourself a little. Your friends had dared you to get piercings and after much debate and convincing yourself that no one would know you were breaking regulations as they’d be under your clothes at all times, you got yourself nipple piercings.

Returning to base and to work meant you were kept busy. Enough that you barely had time to worry about anyone finding out your little secret. In fact, you had nearly forgotten all about them the day it happened. There was nothing wrong with the day, it had been a standard day, nothing remarkable and no issues had cropped up. You had only dealt with some cuts and bruises so the paperwork you had to do was minimal, and as you mindlessly finished it up your mind drifted to dinner. The door slamming made you jump. There in the doorway stood Horangi, 

“Take him! Before I rip his arms off!” He shouted at you, throwing a ball towards your desk. Before you could respond, he was gone and the ball was moving towards you. 

Unable to process the last few seconds it took the feel of tentacle on your arm to move you into action,

“König? What’s wrong?” Seeing as your last few experiences with the hybrid involved him being injured, you made a beeline for your aquatic med kit and towards a patient bed.

“Come on, let me get a look at you,” you tried pulling him off but were as unsuccessful as ever. He just continued up your arm towards his favourite spot which is when you began to panic,

“No König! Just stay where you are, okay?” Attempting to use your free hand and block him from continuing up your body while making sure he wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t the easiest of tasks. Especially not while you scrambled for an excuse as to why he couldn’t be attached to your chest,

“I uhh… I took a hit in training. I’m bruised, yeah. Eh, I’m all bruised so you can’t sit there today.” Seeing that there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him you walked back to your desk, closing the door as you went. König seemed to consider what you were saying, he stopped his climbing efforts and stared at you. You who had suddenly found so much more paperwork that needed doing. 

Settling back into a rhythm of paperwork with König on your arm was fairly easy and it lasted a while. Enough that you had distracted yourself in checkboxes and signatures and your heartrate had come back down to normal. Until König reached out a tentacle and brought it hammering down across your chest. With a yelp and a flinch, you dropped everything,

“König! What the hell was that for huh?!” You stared down at his beady eyes, in a stand off with him. He moved closer and you flinched, one of his arms were held aloft, swaying gently in the air and every so often it found its way closer to you. Distracted by the arm in the air, you never even noticed the other two, as quick as lighting, they darted forward and ripped your shirt open. 

Your unmarred chest stared back at him. And you could have sworn his expression was that of a raised eyebrow. You, too frozen to react to anything, standing there as he worked the rest of your clothes off until he found what you were hiding. No bruises. Two little metal bars. A rapid heartbeat.

“It’s not like anyone else knows. And besides, if you weren’t such a pervert, you wouldn’t know!” Your defence was shaky, even you knew it, “Can’t just respect someone’s boundaries can you? You’ve got to have whatever you want.” Lashing out in an attempt to keep from crying as you pulled your shirt across your chest but you found your efforts hampered by König as he began climbing up again, 

“No!” Brining an arm across your chest to protect your nipples, you shout at him, “They can’t be touched so just shimmy your way back down. And while you’re at it, why don’t you just get off?” He freezes at your words, you’ve been annoyed at him in the past but never angry. Never upset. 

As he pulls himself off to sit on your desk you bring a hand to your eyes, desperate to remove any evidence of tears before turning away from him to find a new shirt. Cleaning yourself up, removing the small spots of spilled ink on your arms and coving yourself in a spare shirt you made your way back to your desk. Expecting to find a grumpy octopus instead you’re met with a puddle of ink ruining your paperwork and not a bit of orange in sight.

___

As always my ask box is open for asks and requests <3

[doodle-pops]

Haunted House With The Lords of Gondolin

Synopsis: In which you, modern reader, set up a haunted house for them to experience during your time in Gondolin.

When you first told Turgon and the Lords of Gondolin about the haunted house you were setting up for the autumn festival, they had raised eyebrows and shared sceptical glances. You assured them it was all in good fun and something humans did for entertainment back in your world, but still, they remained unconvinced.

But the festival spirit was strong, and eventually, Turgon himself declared they would try it. You had the help of other elves from the city to dress as ghosts and creatures, altering the interior with traps, hidden rooms, eerie wind effects, and, of course, the classic something brushing past your leg trick. It took a lot of convincing and detailed instructions, but the elves, curious about human customs, went all in.

By the time the haunted house was complete, it had transformed from a mere concept into a genuinely spooky experience.

“A house…haunted?” Glorfindel had asked, his voice laced with doubt. “We’ve seen the spirits of the cursed, battled creatures from Morgoth’s nightmares, and you want us to walk through a house filled with—what, exactly?”

“I promise, it’s harmless…mostly,” you said, trying to hide your grin. You could see Maeglin raising an eyebrow, his arms crossed as if to question your definition of “harmless.”

Glorfindel smiled politely, ever the golden knight, radiating calm confidence. “I’ll go in first then,” he offered. Naturally, he went to open the door and—WHAM—the fake skeleton you set up dropped right on him.

He jumped back, almost crashing into Rog, who couldn’t help but let out a booming laugh. “What is this trickery?” Rog was clearly amused, and Glorfindel stood there blinking in disbelief as the others snickered. “Oh fuc–A skeleton! Really?” Glorfindel said, shaking his head as he composed himself.

Ecthelion walked beside him as he chuckled under his breath. “It’s just a skeleton. We’re not in the middle of the Nirnaeth here.”

Inside, the halls were dimly lit by flickering lanterns, the walls draped in shadowy cloth that gave the impression of shifting figures. Elves, hidden, moaned softly, their voices echoing down the corridors. Even Turgon, normally so composed, narrowed his eyes in suspicion as the sounds seemed to grow louder, more oppressive.

“I think the house is alive,” Maeglin said flatly, his voice betraying a hint of unease. Rog snorted, rolling his eyes, but even he was scanning the corners warily.

They had barely taken ten steps into the first room when the first scare hit—an elf dressed as a wraith leapt out from a darkened doorway, his hand reaching for Ecthelion’s shoulder. He spun on instinct, fists balled up to strike before you shouted, “Hey! Don’t beat my elves up!”

“Lucky. I almost punched him,” Ecthelion muttered, placing his arms down but eyeing the wraith warily. “Good reflexes,” Glorfindel smirked, but you could see the tension in his jaw, as though he was ready to fight the next ghost himself.

Egalmoth was one who was already causing half the chaos, poking at things, trying to figure out how you rigged the traps. He pulled at a loose cobweb you had set up, only for it to trigger a bucket of fake blood to splash down on him. “Agh! What is this?” he yelped, staring at his now blood-streaked robes. The others burst out laughing as he grumbled, wiping his face. “You…humans.”

As they moved deeper into the house, the monsters became bolder. At one point, a trap door opened beneath Turgon’s feet, and he dropped halfway into the floor before being rescued by a group of skeletons. The sound of him cursing loudly as he tried to climb out of the trap had you doubling over with laughter outside. “We’re going to have a serious talk later.”

Galdor had been quiet for most of the tour until a particularly convincing spectre dropped from the ceiling, screeching and clawing towards him. He let out a yelp, stumbling back into Egalmoth, who laughed far too loudly. “Perhaps the haunted houses of Men aren’t so dull after all,” Egalmoth mused, though his fists were curled up, just in case.

Turgon, leading the group, maintained his stoic façade, but even he flinched, again, when a banshee-like figure screeched and lunged at him from a hidden space. His hand instinctively shot out his fists, but after a moment, he simply shook his head with a resigned sigh. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to end up fighting my people,” he muttered, though there was a spark of amusement in his eyes

Meanwhile, Egalmoth, again, had almost punched one of the actors in the face after they tried to drag him through a fake wall. “I nearly broke their jaw. I thought I was getting kidnapped,” he whined, clearly unimpressed. And Maeglin who had been next to him was struggling not to laugh. “I told you the house was alive.”

One of the fake monsters grabbed Ecthelion’s boot, and instinctively, he kicked it, nearly knocking the poor elf in disguise out cold. All you could do was groan at the poor elf doing his job and Thel’s quick methods of self-defense.

Rog, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of it. When a series of hanging cobwebs and unseen hands began to brush against his arms and legs, he let out a deep, annoyed growl. “I am not being taken by a fake ghost,” he declared, shoving past the invisible ropes of the trap as if it were a mere inconvenience. The elves hidden in the walls whispered hurried apologies.

Glorfindel was initially the most sceptical of the bunch, but actually found himself impressed by the mechanics of the house. After he dodged a spectral blade that swung down from the ceiling, he let out an appreciative whistle. “Now this, this is clever.” But when a creature crawled out of a hidden corner, grabbing at his legs, his calm composure shattered. With a loud, startled shout, he kicked and stomped it away. “Not today! I’ll fight you for real!”

Cool and composed as ever, Maeglin seemed the least affected—at first. But when one of the creatures dressed as a dark wraith chased him through a winding passage at full speech laughing, nearly separating him from the others, you caught him muttering curses under his breath. His usual calm exterior cracked just enough for you to enjoy the moment of him being rattled.

By the time they reached the final room—a grand hall filled with eerie, glowing mist and a replica of Jack Skellington on a throne—the group was ready to be done. The actor stood with glowing pumpkin head in hand, and pointed dramatically at the group. “You shall not leave!”

Rog wasted no time and raised a fist. “Try me.”

Clearly reconsidering, the actor quickly backed down while you, from the control room, had to suppress your laughter. The group stormed out of the house, various expressions of annoyance, relief, and amusement etched on their faces.

“Well,” Ecthelion said after a long pause, running a hand through his hair, “that was…something.”

Galdor shook his head, still a bit shaken from being nearly dragged off into one of the hidden rooms. “You humans and your sense of fun.”

Turgon was uncharacteristically silent, though you could tell from the way his lips twitched that he had enjoyed it more than he was letting on. Glorfindel, meanwhile, clapped you on the back with a grin. “You’ve got a talent for this. Scared the wits out of us.”

“Next time,” Maeglin added, straightening his tunic and trying to act like he hadn’t been running from imaginary wraiths moments ago, “let me design the traps. We’ll make it really terrifying.”

Glorfindel just shook his head. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“You’re immortal,” you shot back with a grin, to which he only waved dismissively.

You could tell that, despite the initial scepticism, they had actually enjoyed themselves—though you knew none of them would openly admit it.

As the group dispersed to enjoy the rest of the festival, you caught Turgon glancing back at the haunted house one last time. His expression was thoughtful, as though he was already planning the next time they’d attempt your human madness. “We should do this next year, but I’d like to help next time.”

Masterlist

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[malusmagpie]

Unbreakable Bonds

Pairing: Master!AnakinxPadawan!Reader

Summary: A master is supposed to care deeply for his Padawan… Right?

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: IMPORTANT: Anakin is 26 in this one. You’re 21. Okay? Okay. First. Sorry for disappearing! I’m fine and thank you so much for all the kind words in my inbox they meant the world to me. I just got uninspired for writing and burnt out from work. Second. I genuinely thought this was way longer than it is. Uhhhhh it’s a two parter. Maybe a three. No promises. Can y’all tell this is my fav trope? But i missed u guys 🫶🏼 lazy ending warning i didn’t wanna keep going i wanted to split it in two.

The sounds of the 501st yelling around you was not what you expected to wake up to. The men of the battalion had set up a camp for everybody on the remote planet you’d landed on in the Outer Rim the night before because the walk had been far too long to do in one stretch. You couldn’t even remember what the planet was called. You just knew your Master was assigned to a mission here and that meant you were assigned to it as well.

You shot out of your sleeping bag when you heard blaster shots above head. One flew through your tent, barely even a foot away from you. Your hand reached for your lightsaber on the ground and it flew into your grip as you ran through the flimsy tent door.

The bright suns of the desert planet blinded you for a moment and you adjusted your eyes before whipping your head toward all the commotion.

“They’re flanking left!” You heard Fives yell. You ran over to where you saw Anakin using a rock as cover.

“Master, why didn’t you wake me?” You yelled over the sounds of blaster fire and explosions with wide eyes. He smiled at you, a smile that didn’t aid your panic.

“Well good morning, Princess. Sleep well?” He always had time for jokes, even in an ambush. You groaned and ducked further down when you felt a blaster shot coming directly at you. “If you didn’t already notice. We’ve been ambushed, but I have a plan.” He finished and you stared at him with a blank expression.

“What would that be, Master?” You said wearily, you were preparing yourself to hear what could be considered by most to be an insane string of words in response to your question. To you though, it would be a normal Anakin thing to say. The 501st was doing a fantastic job at keeping them at bay for the short duration of your conversation but instead of responding, Anakin simply smiled before running right at the blaster shots, blocking them as if the ambush meant nothing to him.

The five year difference in your ages didn’t seem to matter. You tended to act and feel like the older one most days. It was a shame when your previous Master died, you cried in your room for days when the news arrived and you still flinched when you heard his name, it gave the council pretty much no choice but to put you under Anakin’s charge until you finished your training and completed your trials.

Regardless of who was more mature, you followed him blindly. The knowledge that you could trust him not to get you killed at the very minimum was reason enough to stay right on his heel. He was running toward a tank that was firing explosives at your camp. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself when he climbed up on top of it, dodging whatever came his way in the process. You followed him, doing the best you could with what you had been taught.

You stood with him on top of the tank and he used his lightsaber to cut the locked door open. It dropped to the floor of the small space inside the tank, crushing a battle droid in the process. Anakin jumped down to the bottom and you opted for climbing down the ladder, following him closely. He took the second battle droids head off with one swing of his lightsaber and took the piloting chair when the droid fell to the ground. You stood watch behind him, in case anybody came in behind the two of you.

With an aggressive turn to the handles that controlled the top half of the machine, Anakin turned the tanks artillery around causing your body to jostle around. You caught your footing and within moments, most of the battle droids around you became victim to the explosives flying out of the tank.

You heard something above head and your eyes caught sight of a droid holding a blaster toward you. You expected the thing to climb down before it blasted but when it shot at you from its vantage point you stumbled back with a stagger. Using a relatively easy Force ability, you pushed it off the tank and it landed on the ground. The tank moved as if it had gone over a bump and you safely assumed that you had done your job at getting rid of the droid.

“What was that?” He called over his shoulder and you looked down at your arm where your previously dry robe now had a small, blood-soaked patch.

“Nothing. I took care of it.” You replied with no hesitation. You heard the commotion eventually come to an end and Anakin let the 501st finish off the few remaining droids before getting up out of his seat.

“Thanks for trusting me, Y/N.” He said as he walked by you in the dimly lit space. You placed your lightsaber on your hip and followed him as he climbed up and out of the tank. You winced every time you pulled yourself up the ladder with your injured arm but you still got to the top fairly quickly. Anakin hopped down to the ground and held his hand out to help you. His eyes trailed to your stained robe as you reached your own hand to meet his.

Anakin pulled you down with both haste and caution. His eyebrows furrowed as he examined your wound as best as he could and you stared at him with an expression that screamed silent apologies.

“I’m sorry. I misread the situation and it shot me-“ You started and he didn’t let you finish.

“Next time I check in on you. Tell me the truth.” He spoke sternly as he guided you back to what was left of the camp. You closed your eyes for a moment, beating yourself up for not speaking up.

“I didn’t want to distract you.” You spoke softly and he scoffed.

“You know what’s worse than distracting me? Letting me turn around to see you bled out on the ground.” He stopped walking and his hand still held a firm grip on your uninjured bicep. Your eyes watched your shoes, feeling Anakin’s gaze bore into you.

“Never lie to me again. Mistakes happen, don’t let them fester.” Anakin’s voice was softer now. He let go of your arm and he continued walking before you could apologize again.

Your head hung low as you approached the men who fought valiantly for your Master; not because you were embarrassed, but because you couldn’t keep your head up. You felt your body begin to lose stability and you looked at your arm again, the patch had become almost the entire lower half of your arm and you were beginning to feel the pain. The adrenaline wouldn’t bring you much further and you knew it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you began to see small black dots in your vision. Your head spun slowly and your eyes fell shut. You had very little control over where you dropped, but you felt the impact right before you blacked out and you knew it was going to leave a bruise or two.

You woke up to see the interior of Anakin’s star fighter. You blinked slowly, wincing in pain. You looked down at your arm, it was dressed professionally and your sleeve had been cut off, likely to access the wound without undressing you.

“Keep still. You’re still healing.” A voice rang through the room and you turned your head to find the source. You winced when the movement caused your wound to burn. You heard Anakin sigh and stand up. He stood over you, eyebrows knitted in concern with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What part of ‘tell me if you’re not okay’ do you not understand?” He said sternly. You watched his eyes analyze your dressings from afar and you let out a sigh of your own, your voice sounded cracked and dry.

“I’m sorry-“ You started. Anakin held a hand up, signalling for you to stop speaking. His head angled itself away from you and he took a deep breath with his eyes shut. The way he always did when he had to calm down.

“I care about you.” He said after a moment of silence as he let his hand drop to his side, his voice sounded softer again. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died under my charge. Do you understand?” He gazed at you, looking for a sign that you did in fact, understand. You nodded.

“Good.” He pulled his chair over by the small cot you were laying on and sat down. “How’s it feeling?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

You looked at the wound with a shrug. “Could have been worse.” You seethed causing him to deepen the lines in his face, resting his hand on your arm.

“Just… Rest. That’s all you can do until we get to Coruscant.” He looked at you for a moment before getting up, presumably to fly the ship. You leaned back against the pillow and shut your eyes, letting sleep take over you. All you heard before sleep took over your body were the four words he let slip earlier. They echoed in your head as you lulled away.

“I care about you.”

You didn’t dream. At least you thought you didn’t. It was a shock to you when in your slumber, your mind filled with images of your own master smiling, laughing, and holding you. Soft words were whispered behind the backs of the council. His hand reaching for yours to squeeze it because he knew you were nervous. Kisses placed on foreheads and lingering touches were halted when you heard the 501st clanging around beyond your minds eye. In the cockpit on Anakin’s ship. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately closed them again, pretending to stay asleep and trying to grasp what the hell your brain was doing.

By the time the ship arrived on Coruscant, you’d rested and the bacta-bag wrapped around your arm seemed to have worked wonders on you. You opened your eyes to Anakin shaking you softly and the sound of his voice made a small part of you fill with an unexpected warmth.

“I’ll deal with the Council by myself, let me get you to your apartment first.” He said when you finally sat up. He rested a gentle hand on the back of your waist and you felt tingles over your entire back from the contact. The feeling shocked you, causing you to clear your throat to suppress a gasp. Anakin guided you off the bed and helped you off the bridge and onto the landing pad of your balcony.

“Are they angry?” You asked with a look toward him. He smiled, the kind of smile he held on his face when he had a joke in mind.

“They’re not allowed to feel angry remember?” He muttered humorously and you cracked a half smile. “Don’t worry about them.” He finished as he sat you down on your couch.

“Master, I really am sorry.” You spoke as he mindlessly placed the throw blanket from the back of the couch over your legs. Anakin shook his head.

“Really, Y/N. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He said, settling down on the couch beside your legs. His forearms rested over his knees and he clasped his hands between them. You looked at him for longer than you thought appropriate. He looked tired and it took everything in you not to reach out and place your hand on his cheek.

He cared about you. He said it himself. Surely it was the same kind of care every Master had for their Padawan.

But it didn’t feel that way when he looked at you now.

You grappled with your thoughts, convincing yourself you were imagining things, that it was delusion. You almost didn’t hear him speak when he did.

“I almost lost you today.” Anakin said sternly. “I don’t have the time between all my meetings for a funeral, believe me.” He chuckled humourlessly.

“But you didn’t.” You shrugged and played with the frayed edge of the blanket over your legs. He shot you a look that made you smile and he followed with a chuckle. His hair pushed further into his face as he shook his down turned head.

A silence crept its way between the two of you and you watched his every move. You couldn’t explain the feeling that arose every time he smiled at you. It was like a switch had flipped and you desperately tried to figure out a way to flip it back while you watched him place his hands on his knees to push himself to his feet with a sigh. You gnawed at the skin inside your cheek as you watched him.

When he finally looked at you again, your mouth opened to say something, but it shut just as fast. You couldn’t trust your own words right now. Not with the way you were feeling. His lips thinned as he glanced at your arm again and he cleared his throat.

“Rest. I’m leaving you with C3-PO. He’ll help you get back on your feet so we can get back to our job.” He said, not bothering to look at you. You tried to ignore the pang of disappointment you felt at that. You gave him a nod as he retreated to his ship, leaving you with nothing more than a small nod in return.

You worked your jaw as he ascended and sped off. With a swift movement you pushed the blanket off your legs and stood. You felt fine, sure maybe a little bit weak from the blood loss but him calling in a babysitter for you felt unnecessary. You channeled your confusing emotions into annoyance at his childlike treatment of you. Because that seemed healthy.

As you paced your living room you swung your arm around gently to test how mobile you were. It seemed alright, nothing to pause missions or call reinforcements in for. You planned to give him a mouthful when he came back, you practiced your speech out loud as you walked around your apartment.

~•~•~•~

Anakin left yet another long winded meeting with a sigh, closing the door behind him as he left the council chambers. The meetings were a lot more tedious when he didn’t have Y/N with him. She tended to soften the blows, her charm and kindness carried them through plenty of scoldings and lectures from the council. He ran a hand through his hair as he stalked the busy hallways of the Temple.

All he could think of was how dumb he’d been. How blind he was to her struggle. If he’d just taken one second longer to check on her, she wouldn’t have that nasty bruise on the side of her face from the fall. Maybe if he’d kept a better eye on her she wouldn’t have gotten hit with the blaster at all.

Not only did he have to deal with the guilt of letting her get hurt, it was only a matter of time before he finally faced the reality of his feelings toward her. He knew it was coming, he couldn’t hold it back much longer. It already pained him immensely to hide it before she got hurt. Now, the very real fact was, he could misstep once and lose her forever. That dwelled on him and he wouldn’t let anymore time go on without telling her he cared for her in a way a Master shouldn’t care for their Padawan.

He sighed again, turning a corner and making for his speeder that was parked in the corner of the hangar. He’d give her a choice, of course. He’d tell her it was fine if she wanted to ask the council to place her with somebody else. He’d even go as far as push for her trials to be done quicker if it meant she could leave his charge if this all made her uncomfortable. He had every aspect planned but he needed to do it. If not now it would eat him alive forever, possibly until it was too late. He shook the thought from his head as he sped back to her house.

He arrived, later than he wanted, but with flowers and her favourite fruit. It showed he paid attention, at least in his mind. As if any of that would matter if she rejected him.

None of this was right, nor okay. He knew this all too well. He knew exactly what he was doing here and he’d weighed out all the pros and all the cons. Pros, he might have her. Cons, the Code. The damned Code.

He ruffled his hair nervously before taking one final deep breath and exiting his speeder. He caught sight of her pacing around and his eyebrows furrowed. 3PO intersected his path.

“Master Anakin, I fear Miss Y/N has lost it.” He said nervously. Anakin quirked a brow, smirking at the girl pacing her apartment and mouthing things.

“I’ll be the judge of that, thanks 3PO. Stay here.” He muttered as he pushed past the droids and left them on the balcony.

With a swift hand motion, Anakin opened her balcony door and placed her gifts on the table next to him. It wasn’t long before Y/N turned to face him during her paces.

~•~•~•~

“You. What have I done to lead you to believe that I would need not one, but two damned babysitters when I’m realistically only mildly hurt- What’s that?” You stopped in your tracks as you pointed to the flowers on the table. Your eyes landed back on Anakin where he leaned his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed.

He gave you a smile and you couldn’t seem to remember where you were in your speech. In fact, you couldn’t remember the speech at all.

“A gift. For you. I guess it’s more of an apology now though, isn’t it? Since you’re upset at me.” He shrugged, looking down at the bouquet and back at you.

“I’m not upset.” You shrugged, crossing your own arms as you took a few steps toward him. Your eyes fixated on him, you didn’t even care about the gift.

“Is that so? I could have sworn..” He trailed and you shook your head.

“Not upset. Glad you’re here.” You muttered and he chuckled as you approached him to snatch up the flowers and fruit to place them their respective places in a home.

“Right.” He nodded, that crooked smile never leaving his face. You didn’t even have to look at him to know what he looked like right now. You muttered something in agreement as you filled a vase with water and began cutting the stems. After a few moments of letting you arrange the flowers, Anakin rounded the counter to stand beside you and cleared his throat. Your breath caught as you looked up at him.

“You feel it too don’t you?” He asked quietly, leaning against the edge of your counter as your hands worked away at the flowers. His words gave you pause, and you placed the flowers neatly in the vase before sliding it to the middle of the counter.

“Feel what?” You questioned, barely looking away from your finishing touches on the arranged bouquet before you grabbed a cutting board for the fruit. His hand rested over yours where you held the board, causing you to look at him again. You studied his features and somehow you knew. You knew exactly what he was talking about, what he was eluding to. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes scan your face, looking at every inch of you to gauge your emotions.

“Don’t make me say it, Y/N. Just tell me if you want it as badly as I do..” His voice was barely above a whisper. Your eyes fell shut for a moment and you took a breath, trying to steady your thoughts. To see reason.

“Say it.” You replied without thinking.

Anakin sighed. “I care about you far more than what would be considered normal… Or.. Correct. In the eyes of the Jedi.” He said, his mouth formed a thin line as he gauged your response.

You stared at him, long and hard. You couldn’t help but feel like this was supposed to happen, that it was always going to happen, that nothing could have stopped it.

“I care about you too, Anakin. But-“

“Show me.” He breathed.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Show you what?” You asked, already knowing the answer. It was always like this. You were always one step ahead of each other. Which made this conversation feel all the more tedious.

“Show me how much you care. No buts. Use your feelings.” He said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath shuddered again as you placed your hands on the counter next to him and pushed yourself up toward him. Your eyes watched his flutter shut and you followed suit before placing your lips against his.

You melted into him when his hands circled your waist, bringing you directly in front of himself and a small sigh left your lips between kisses. It felt perfect. It felt right. Fated, even. His warm hands sent shivers through you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer.

When you finally broke the kiss, he almost chased you before retreating and placing his forehead against yours. His heavy breaths matched your own and your eyes finally opened to see blue hues looking back at you.

“Well. Shit.” You whispered and he chuckled. “What now?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” He said quietly. “I know I’m screwed if you change your mind though.” He finished with a cocky smile.

[szynkaaa]

Not My Circus, But Unfortunately That Is My Monkey

Next Chapter ✦ Read it on AO3

Guess what, I wrote a one-shot for my disaster children Sun Wukong and OC. I plan to write more, whenever I have some ideas that I need to get off. Not a writer, and English is not my first language! This is mostly self-indulging crap.

It is written in 1st POV, from my OC's, but I also use 'you' (2nd POV??) when she is referring to the Destined One/Sun Wukong. Imagine basically all the one shots are diary entires or letters she wrote addressing to him. Books that inspired me to write in this style: Cat and Mouse by Günter Grass, Stolen by Lucy Christopher and You by Caroline Kepnes.

Here is my OC tag with art and backstories that I am making up for her which may or may not get mentioned in my one-shots.

Stories will not be written in chronological order of their adventure, I will write whatever comes to my mind. It's also posted on my AO3

In Which There Was Only One Bed (There Wasn't, They Are Both idiots)

It was around the hours of the Ox when I heard light footsteps pacing outside my room. The door to my room in the Stone Palace on Mount Huaguo was not fully closed. I liked to leave a bit open, just wide enough for me to hear more clearly if there is anything happening outside the door and I need to get ready to fight for my life – habits I picked up from my travel with you that seemed to not be going away any time soon.  

I laid bundled up in three layers of blankets on a thin mattress on the ground close to nearest exist in the room: a window with no glass panels. A peach tree grew right outside said window, with the nearest branch to the window close enough for me to jump from the ledge over and climb down the tree to run away if needed. Even though you assured me that the Stone Palace is a safe place, and no harm can happen to me, after months of traveling with you and having far too many close encounters with death, I was not able to sleep anymore with all the doors and windows shut tight. It’s funny because before all of this, I couldn’t fall asleep before making sure that all doors were closed – and that included wardrobes too. I was so sure that if I left a wardrobe open, something was going to crawl out of it and drag me away as a kid. Now I fear that if I keep all doors closed, I will be trapped inside with whatever was already hiding in the room before even being able to escape. 

The pacing in front of my door stopped. Logically, I knew that it was you outside, and yet my heart pace still picked up, thinking that maybe, just maybe some yaoguai managed to get pass you is now to finish me off. There weren’t many creatures living in the Stone Palace. So far, it’s just you and me. You told me that while there are still some monkeys living on Mount Huaguo, there were still many things you needed to get sorted out before things would go back to the way it was before - before the Monkey King retrieved the scripts from the West, before he embarked on a long journey of sixteen years, before he was buried under the Five Element Mountain for 500 years, before he wreaked havoc in heaven. Back when the halls and mountain was filled with joyous laughter and mischief and happiness. A simpler time, you said once. But you were greedy and ambitious and wanted more.  

The pacing stopped. 

Keeping my eyes shut and pretending to be still asleep, I slowly reached for the dagger (a gift from the 4th Spider Sister) under my pillow. I opened one eye and glanced at the door. The door creaked slightly, indicating that whoever was standing outside was pushing it open now. And then the pushing stopped briefly, like they were hesitating. I slowly moved the dagger to under my blanket, heart beating wildly, praying that I will not have to use it. Did I even know how to swing a dagger? I didn’t, but better to have a weapon than none. I closed my eyes again, pretending to be asleep. 

This time, I heard someone knocking on the door.  

“You’re awake.” came a voice standing outside. It was you, Sun Wukong, stating facts rather than asking if I was awake at this ungodly hour.  

I released a relieved breath, not knowing I was even holding it and opened my eyes again. “Yeah, I am. What’s up?” I asked. I didn’t need to see your face to know that your eyebrows briefly furrowed at my ‘what’s up’. You got good at understanding the unusual way I talk, but there were still times where you couldn’t understand what I was trying to say.  

You pushed the door open and walked in, your eyes wandering from the empty bed and then to my form laying bundled up in three layers of blankets – due to the chilly night air - on a thin mattress on the floor. Confusion was written all over your face. I sat up from and put the dagger aside as you walked towards me, and then crouched down.  

“Why are you sleeping on the floor? Is the bed not to your liking?” you asked. There was worry etched into your face, your tail lowered to the ground. You were out of your armor, wearing a simple hanfu top and loose pants. The hanfu was not properly tied up, giving me a good view onto your fur-covered upper body – the only part showing some skins were your chest and neck. It’s very likely that up until few minutes ago, you were also in your own bed, trying to sleep.  

I wrapped my blankets around my shoulder and leaned back against the wall. “The bed is fine. It’s just...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling very silly for sleeping on the floor.  

You noticed my hesitation, and sat down on the floor opposite of me, legs crossed. I knew that this usually meant you were waiting patiently for me to find the right words to say what I wanted.  

Ah fuck it. You have already seen me at my worst, what is one more silly confession? “The bed is too soft.” I blurted out.  

One of your eyebrows perked up. “Too soft?”, you repeated gently. I half-expected you to mock what I said. The stories I read about the Great Sage Equal to Heaven were running through my head, how the Monkey King would easily mock and tease others for their weakness. But then I silently berated myself for even thinking like this about you – you’re not like this anymore. That was you long in the past. I was still getting used to the ‘new’ you. The you that inherited Sun Wukong’s relics and minds and memories.  

“I think I’m just too used to sleeping on the cold hard ground outside. I’m having hard time falling asleep these days on the bed, so I just move all the things down here to get some sleep. It’s silly, I know. We are not traveling anymore and I know this is a safe place but-”  

“It’s not silly.” you interrupted me, and looked me in the eyes with an intense stare, making my breath hitch. “I want you to feel comfortable here. And if this means you need to sleep on the floor, then so be it. If you need ten blankets to sleep with,” you continued, patting my three blankets, “then I will find you the best silk blankets in the three realms.” 

A smile hushed over my face at that statement.  

“Please do not run away again.” you finished, and a heavy silence hung over us. Again. I lowered my eyes, thinking back about the time when I could not accept that you, the Destined One, have fully reincarnated into Sun Wukong. At that time, it seemed to me like I lost a best friend and they were replaced by a look-a-like with a different personality. Toppled with the fact that finding all six artifacts did not send me back home, it was too much for me to handle and I ran away, hiding in the Zodiac Village for a few weeks processing everything. You went from not talking a single word to suddenly being able to say anything that came into your mind – it was new and foreign and just felt so wrong at that time.  

My actions at that time hurt you deeply, but you didn’t give up and came to visit the village every day, talking to everyone and just checking up on me while I was hiding away in the blacksmith’s cottage, like the coward I was.  

Things were not back to the way it was before between us, and I don’t think it ever will be – and that’s okay, I realized. Just because some things have changed, it did not mean it was for the worse. It was just different, but not in a bad way. 

Wiggling a foot out of my blanket layers, I gently nudged your leg. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Your shoulders visibly relaxed, and then it was my turn for asking questions. “Why are you awake at this time pacing in front of my door?”  

“I could not fall asleep either.” you replied, arms crossed like it was the most obvious answer. Duh.  

“Okay, yeah. I figured out that much.” I rolled my eyes. Typical monkey, not giving me a straight answer. “What is keeping you awake?” I rephrased my question. 

At that, your shoulders stiffened up and you avoided looking at me. It must have been something bad if you swallowed your pride to come over this late at night to see me. I pressed my lips into a thin line and nudged you again with my foot, to which you then simply grabbed hold of it. “Why is your foot freezing cold.” You asked instead. 

“I’ve been dead for seven years.” shot out of me sarcastically, as I tried to tug my foot back into the blanket, but you were holding onto it with an iron grip, and then you started to massage my foot with both of your hands to get some warmth into them.  

I felt the heat creeping up into my ears and tried to stay focused. “You’re avoiding my question.” Still holding onto the three layers of blanket, I shuffled a bit closer to you. You were still massaging my foot, putting all your attention into it to make sure it was warm.  

“You should be grateful the Great Sage is massaging a mere mortal’s foot.” you snipped back. 

Stupid rock monkey.  

Using my other free foot, I tried to kick you for that sassy comment, but of course you saw it coming and caught my second foot in your hands too – which was also freezing cold, and you started massaging that one too, very focused on the task at hand. 

I let you do it for a couple of minutes, till I could feel my toes again.  

“Hey Wukong...” I started; you didn’t pause what you were doing. “Please tell me why you couldn’t sleep?”  

Your movement briefly stopped, and then continued, your eyes avoiding mine. I bent forward a little bit and then grabbed your face with my hands, gently gripping the hair on your face and tilting your head up so that you were looking at me. You looked haunted, as if your head has been replaying some bad memories on repeat in your head like a broken record. You stopped massaging my feet, and moved your hand to grip mine that was holding your face, but you didn’t remove them from there. 

“I... I can feel it.” you started, eyes drifting off again. 

I moved my fingers a bit to massage your face, knowing that you loved it when I did this. “Feel what.” 

“When I close my eyes, I am back in the battle field. Fighting against his- my sworn brother. Against the Yaoguai I fought at my travel. The three-eyed bastard and his mutt. The anger of the Court killing my kin, and how terrified I was gambling with my life-” you spoke, your hands gripping my hands so tight that I winced slightly, to which you immediately loosened them and then ran your finger up and down against mine as a form of apology.  

I knew that by obtaining all six artifacts you would also gain Sun Wukong’s memories. However, it didn’t cross my mind that it also means you would have all the bad memories too, including the one where you had to kill yourself in order to be completely free.  

I was never really good with words, or knew what to do to make a friend feel better. But I knew I did not – could not – let you walk back to your room alone after what you just confessed. 

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” From the corner of my eyes, I saw how your tail slightly perked up at that.  

You hesitated, before replying, “I do not want to cross any boundaries and make you uncomfortable.”  

My eyes softened at that, knowing that you were referring to me still adjusting to the new-old you. “I mean. It’s not like it would be any different from when we shared a bed or bedroll when we were traveling.”  

Your tail was now up from the floor, swishing left and right, a sign that you liked the proposal. Sometimes I think that you didn’t even know your tail was moving on its own, giving away what you were feeling.  

Your hands stopped gripping mine, and then you scrunched your nose and said in a very distasteful tone, “The Great Sage does not sleep on the floor.”  

I see, back to the snobby dignified king act. I knew that this was your attempt to cover up for the honest moment we briefly shared few seconds ago 

Say what you want, the Monkey King is a bit of a tsundere. 

Slapping your face lightly with both of my hands, I then proceed to lay back down and closed my eyes. “Suit yourself. You can carry me to the bed cause I ain’t movi-”  

Before I could finish that sentence, something lifted me up along with my three blankets and then I was placed over a shoulder like a sack of potato. All I could see was a monkey tail swishing left and right before the room turned again and I was deposited ungently onto the bed, still cocooned up in my blankets. You motioned me to scooch over to the far end of the bed and then laid down next to me, with one arm under your head and the other resting on your stomach. “I need a blanket. Why do you have three of them?” You asked.  

I stared at you, and you stared back, slowly raising an eyebrow. We both knew that the raised eyebrow meant ‘Are you really going to make this hard because this is a fight you will not win but I will indulge you if you want to’. Then I smiled in surrender, and shuffled around a bit so that I was out of my blanket cocoon and held up half of the blanket as a silent invitation for you to come closer and get under the blanket with me.  

You did not need to be told twice. I lifted up my head so that you could put your arm under my head while I moved also closer to you, staring at the two moles on your exposed neck. You then moved the blanket over to us and placed your over arm around my body. I instantly felt much warmer, warmth that three layers of blanket could never provide. Wiggling my arms, I moved a bit back to make some space for my hands, before placing them on the exposed skin on your chest that was not covered by fur. 

Just like my feet, my hands were also freezing cold. You knew I had bad blood-circulation, and yet for some reason you never seemed to be prepared for whenever I decide to use your body heat as a personal hand-and-feet-warmer. Or maybe you did but didn’t mind it that much.  

“Why are your hands freezing cold mortal,” you hissed, but instead of pushing me away you grip around me tightened. Before I could give a reply, you said “And do not tell me it is because you have been dead for seven years.”  

I grinned, feeling my hands warming up, and then proceed to tuck my cold-again feet between his fur-covered legs. You let out a defeated sigh, and then rested your chin on top of my head. “The Great Sage, reduced to a mere warmth comforter for a mortal.” 

“Mhmmm.” I mumbled out, sleep finally catching up to me. ”Night night, Kiwi.” I said drifting off.  

Something that felt like a pair of lips brushed my forehead.  

Do you still see flashes of red, and feel the burning sensation of pain on your chest when you close your eyes? Do you still hear the sound of your Jīngū Bàng clashing with Erlang Shen’s spear, or when you laid in your sworn brother’s arms, taking your last breath before you crumbled into ashes, the wind carrying it away? You told me that the nightmares stopped whenever I was sleeping next to you. 

Now I wonder if you are having them again, sleeping alone in your bed that was too big for one lonesome Monkey King.