#I dropped it face-down on pavement 😭😭😭

[obstinaterixatrix]

those fucking action live watches are so expensive too, they’re like $300 minimum

[servicpop]

CAN SOMEONE BE MY ADRIEN RN 😭 !! Anyways, what if Adrien asked Y/N to their prom?! isn't that the cutest thing?! is up to you if you gonna make it nsfw! I REALLY NEED HIM !! 🥲 AHHHH (love your page! so glad I found it 🫶🏻)

had so little time cus of work so let me write up something quick !

NSFW ; fingering & overstim

"Who are you taking out to prom, Adrien?" It was a question Adrien never really thought about. The obvious answer was... you, so he had completely forgotten the fact that you two weren't exclusive, or public yet. "Dunno, might just skip it," Adrien shrugged, pushing himself off the cobble pavement and brushed off the dirt from his clothes. The guys just laughed, nudging him with their elbows and patting him on the back, typical Adrien, they all remarked. Now came the complicated part, actually asking you out and playing it off so you won't get found out.

He decided a few weeks before prom day to ask you out. It was a Saturday evening, you were in your room filling out some paperwork for the school. It was crazy how much of a burden the school dumped onto you just because you were the student president. Your phone buzzed on your table, causing you to flinch from the unexpected notification from Adrien.

Look outside ur window I got a surprise for u

It has become normal for Adrien to sneak in through your window. You didn't know how your parents would react to seeing someone like Adrien, and you sure didn't want to risk it so you never actually asked them if Adrien could come in. The chair creaked as it rolled, allowing you to get up and walk to your window. You peered through the glass to look down at your yard, seeing Adrien standing on the grass with flowers in his hand and a large cardboard cut out with poorly drawn glittery words that were practically ineligible from his handwriting. You could tell he used glue and threw glitter on it from the way the letters drooped and melted.

You turned away from the window and went back to work.

You had barely gotten back on your chair until you heard your window slam open and Adrien jump in. How did he get into your room on the 2nd floor? Who knows. A few petals scattered onto your floor and Adrien dropped the cardboard cutout onto the floor, striding to where you were standing. "I'm not leaving until I hear a yes," Adrien grinned, placing the bruised flowers onto your desk and wrapping his arms around your waist, hoisting you up into the air and placing you back down onto your bed.

You don't know how long he's been at it. He has you laying ontop of him, back to his chest and three fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. There was already white all over your abdomen from your previous orgasms. His left hand is working on your spent cock, rubbing the tip over and over again. His fingers are sodden with your pre-cum that continued to leak out your slit despite how many times you've cum. "Adrien— please I can't take anymore," Your whole body screams with pleasure but your mind is so blank you can't even think a full sentence.

"Not stopping till you say yes," Adrien cooed, rubbing circles along your cockhead that sent shivers down your spine. He knew exactly all the spots you're weak in and all the spots that would drive you insane. Your pride wouldn't let you say yes, how could he even attend prom with you without it being a huge give away to their relationship? But now, all you could think of was his calloused hands rubbing so sweetly at all your spots. His fingers squelched as they pushed deeper, pressing against your prostate once more.

"C'mon just tell me you'll go to prom will me, I'll work double shift to buy you a suit if you want—" "I'll go to prom with you." "I'll even rent a car— huh?" Adrien paused, instantly sitting up to look at your face. It took a moment of pause before a toothy smile spread across Adrien's face, "Really?" You barely nod, your body as so spent from Adrien's torture. Adrien slides his fingers out of you, and wraps his arms around your shoulders in a bear hug. He basically tackles you on your own bed, rolling you around with a hearty laugh, "Fuck I really thought you'd reject me," he smiled against your shoulder, pulling you to lay ontop of him again but now both your chests were brushing against eachother.

"Does this mean we're dating—" "No."

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[moonstruckme]

hey! I really really really like your writing very much!

can you do one where the reader and spencer reid are both nerds but different kinds of nerds. so the reader's more of a literature/ language nerd and spencer's basically an expert in LITERALLY everything. so she has a major crush on him but always hesitates to make a move on him cuz she thinks that she doesn't stand a chance because she struggles with basic math and physics chemistry make her head hurt

and so when spencer asks her out she's all baffled like you don't think I'm dumb?!😭😭

Hi, thanks honey!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s one of those rare days where you can actually afford a lunch break, and you’ve decided to take it outside with your book. Every day lately feels like it could be the last nice one you get before the cold weather comes in, and you’re enjoying the crisp breeze and warm sunshine on your face as you get settled on the bench outside the cafe where you work. 

The book you’ve been reading for the past week is good but not great; you’re sort of pushing yourself to finish just so you can say it’s over with and tell the friend who lent it that you gave it your best. Still, you’re very nearly lost in it by the time a pair of black converse comes to a stop in front of you. 

You follow them upward. “Spencer!” you say, probably with a touch too much alacrity. Too quickly, too. You might’ve at least pretended to have to think about the name of the sweet-faced doctor looking down at you. But it’s not your fault; you’ve gotten used to calling it out from the counter when he comes here to pick up his lunch at least three days out of the week. 

“Hi,” he says, teetering on the edge of bashful. “I’m surprised to see you out here, you’re almost always working when I come by.” 

It’s embarrassingly gratifying that he knows that. You’d never hold it against him if he didn’t, but you’ve come to enjoy the little bits of conversation you grab with him when he comes by, and it’s nice to know that he’s noticed you too. 

“It’s a slow day,” you reply by way of explanation. “I figured I’d grab a break while I still could.” 

Spencer smiles like he totally gets that. You imagine he does. “Good idea. Can I sit?”

“Of course!” Again, way too eager. You’ve got to work on controlling your tone around him. You move your discarded jacket into your lap. 

“Thanks,” he says, sitting in the space you’ve made for him. His legs are so long he looks like he’s squatting on the bench, knees high enough for him to set his elbows on. Which he does, tilting his head to see you. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. I mean, I wouldn’t really recommend it,” you laugh. Christ, you don’t want him to know what you’re reading. Spencer probably reads astrophysics textbooks for fun. “It’s not very good.” 

Spencer puts his hand over yours, far from forceful as he tips the page toward him until he can see the cover. Your brain is short-circuiting so badly it’s a wonder you don’t drop the paperback onto the pavement. 

“I haven’t heard of it,” he says, which surprises you. Spencer seems so knowledgeable it’s difficult to believe there’s anything in existence that’s not stored somewhere in his hard drive. “Why are you reading it if you don’t think it’s good?” 

He doesn’t ask it in any unkind or judgemental way, but something inside you tenses nonetheless. You know perhaps too much about Spencer Reid. It’s not like you’d gone out of your way to figure him out, but the facts had presented themselves to you almost serendipitously and you’d put the pieces together. You know that he’s in the FBI, not only because of the laminated identifier he sometimes leaves clipped to his shirtpocket when he comes in, but also because of the coworkers that occasionally come with him. From those coworkers, you also know that he’s a doctor, and you gather that he’s generally respected and admired as well as cared for by his team. He seems a bit awkward, but sure of himself where it matters, and he goes into every interaction with a kind curiosity. Most of all, you know that Spencer is smart. Like, expert in everything smart. You’d caught a few jokes from the people he’s brought in about an eidetic memory, his multiple PhDs, and the nickname “boy genius.” No matter how shy and sweet someone is, that’s intimidating. 

And it’s unnerving to have someone with an IQ higher than you can probably fathom asking about your intellectual habits. 

“Well, the plot doesn’t actually have much movement, so it’s pretty boring,” you say hesitantly. “I guess at this point I’m mostly in it for the prose. Plus my friend recommended it, so I have to finish it to keep her happy.” 

Spencer laughs at your little joke, nodding. “Wow, the prose alone is enough to keep you going? It must be pretty fascinating.” 

You want to backpedal immediately, but settle for a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s alright. I’m kind of a nerd for that stuff. Rhetorical devices and all.”

Spencer tilts his head, something igniting in his brown eyes. Interest. “Rhetorical devices. You mean like metaphor and personification?”

You nod. “Yeah, like those, but also anadiplosis and polysyndeton and anastrophe.” Spencer’s eyebrows move slowly upward as you speak, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks despite the slight chill. “I just like that there’s things that affect the emotion—or the pacing, or whatever—of writing that we as readers pick up on almost subconsciously, but were so intentional for the writer.” 

Spencer’s nodding, eyes going somewhere just slightly distant. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I mean, I know writing is a very intentional process, but I never really think about the tiny, word-level decisions authors make to influence readers.” 

“It’s so cool,” you agree. “Like, how long do you think it takes someone to land on the exact right word for what they’re trying to convey, or to structure their sentences in a way that builds momentum over the course of a paragraph? Like, so much goes into it.” 

Spencer’s smiling at you, and you realize you’re gushing, geeky zeal bursting out of you like a soda bottle that’s been shaken and finally uncapped. “Sorry. Um, what’re you reading lately?” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says quickly, still smiling at you. “I actually just finished my last book, so I’m looking for something new. If this book has all that and isn’t up to your standards, I’d be interested to see what you really enjoy reading.” 

Your cheeks are burning hot; you hope Spencer thinks the redness is from the cool breeze. “I’d be nervous to give you a recommendation,” you admit. “Too much pressure.” 

Spencer waves you off. “I’ll read anything, don’t worry about it. Hey, have you ever been to that coffee shop on fifth? It’s in a bookstore.” 

You blink. “No, I haven’t heard of it. That sounds cool, though.” 

A bit of pink tinges Spencer’s cheeks; it’s probably from the cool breeze. “Yeah, well, you should let me take you there sometime. If you want, of course,” he adds hastily. “Don’t worry about it if not.” 

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening. And then once you do, another second to make yourself believe it. “Like, as a date?” you ask, just to be sure.

 Spencer’s smile is hopeful behind its timidity. “Yeah. Yeah, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah.” You can’t think of anything better to say, your brain filling with buzzing bees. “That sounds good. Thanks.” 

He laughs, eyebrows coming together bemusedly. “Well, don’t thank me. I should be thanking you.” 

It’s more a thanks for his taking action, you think. For making a move when you’d been too scared to, stagnant with months over your anxiety that he’d think you were too dumb or trivial to want to keep talking to you after he’d picked up his sandwich. 

“Okay, great.” He stands. “Well, I have to get back, but I’ll, uh…I’ll see you? Friday, maybe? I can come by here after your shift.” 

“You know when my shift ends?”

Now even his ears are turning red. “You…around four, right? I sometimes see you if I’m leaving work around then.” 

You smile. “Yeah, four. See you then, Dr. Reid.” 

“See you then!” he turns around, and you can see the exact moment he thinks to wonder how you know his last name. You don’t bother worrying about it.

[astrophileous]

hi !!! can i request literally anything with spencer based on "in a world of boys he's a gentleman"? everytime i hear it on tiktok i just think of him and i physically cannot😭😭 thanks a lot <3

ANON YOUR ✨️MIND✨️!!! I go crazy over any edit of spencer with slut! audio omfg and you're absolutely right, the lyrics scream HIM SO MUCH 😭🫶 Thanks for the request lovely ❤️ btw some parts of this are kinda similar to details of my other blurbs but you know what? idc 🥰 I hope you still enjoy it tho &lt;3

Warning(s): fem!reader, minor injury (scrapped knee), reader being stood up, profanities

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

You turned around at the familiar voice. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the job. Were you inside the club?"

You glanced at the entrance of the establishment behind you. "Yeah, I was. Can you tell me what's going on? Why was everyone evacuated? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry. We've got things under control." Spencer looked around at the mass of people in your immediate surroundings. "I thought you said you had a date today?"

You shuffled your weight from foot to foot, ducking your head so Spencer couldn't read the embarrassment on your face. "I do. My date, he's—well, he said he saw some of his friends earlier and went to say hi, but then we got evacuated, so..."

Spencer frowned. "He hasn't contacted you yet?"

"No." You looked at your phone again for good measure, hoping that somehow your date had dropped in a text or a missed call in the two minutes since the last time you checked the device, but alas. "Maybe he doesn't have service? The signal on my phone has been terrible as well."

You and Spencer both knew that it was a pathetic excuse, but you were thankful that he chose to brush past it completely.

"Are you cold?" Spencer asked when he saw you shudder. He instantly took off the FBI bomber he was wearing and draped it on your shoulders. "Here. You know you get cold easily. Why didn't you bring a coat?"

Truthfully speaking, you didn't think you would need a coat when you left your place earlier that night. After all, your date was going to drive you from your apartment to the club and back. How were you supposed to know that he was going to stand you up halfway through your date, leaving you alone and freezing in the middle of a sidewalk?

Perhaps the fact that he decided to bring you to a club out of all places for a first date should have been your first red flag all along.

"Better now?" Spencer asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Spencer."

Someone bumped against you from behind, and before you could dive head first onto the curb, Spencer caught your fall mid-air. He led you away from the mob of people littering the club entrance with protective arms enveloping your shoulders.

"What happened to your leg?" Spencer asked when he saw the slight limp in your walk.

"Oh, that? I, um, kinda grazed it against the pavement when I fell."

"You fell?!"

"Well—" you winced when a particular step sent a jolt to your limb, "—believe it or not, people can get real physical when they panic, and a sudden PSA to evacuate the premises is apparently the surest way to do it."

"Let me see." Before you could stop him, Spencer was already kneeling in front of you in the middle of the road. He flipped the sheer material of your skirt so he could inspect the damage. "Shit, angel. You're bleeding. Why didn't you say anything?"

Carefully, Spencer ushered you towards the nearest ambulance, sitting you down at the back before requesting a first aid kit from the paramedic.

"Need help with that?" the paramedic asked.

"No, thank you. I've got her."

The way Spencer said the phrase made your entire insides heat up all at once. It didn't help that for the following minutes, you had to endure all the gentle ministrations Spencer was doing to treat your scraped knee. You were both glad and mournful when Spencer finished dressing the wound, your skin tingling with the aftermath of his delicate touches.

Spencer took a seat right next to you. "Still no word from your date?"

"No." You sighed. "I don't even wanna think about him right now. Should've trusted my instinct and not go on this stupid date in the first place."

"Why did you go anyway?"

"I didn't feel right canceling just like that. Deirdre went through great trouble setting it up for me."

Deirdre, bless her heart, was your best friend and closest confidant. She was also the person who arranged this blind date for you because she was, quote-unquote, tired of seeing you pining over a certain FBI agent with an IQ of 187.

"For a certified genius, he's sure as hell real dumb if he hasn't figured out how you feel about him by now," Deirdre had said once upon a time.

So, like the good friend that she was, Deirdre set this blind date in hopes that you would finally stop moping around and start moving on instead.

"Your date is a friend of Deirdre's?" Spencer questioned.

"No, no, no. I think he's a coworker of her sister's husband or something? Anyway, thought I'd at least show up and have fun, y'know? I didn't expect that I would be the one getting stood up."

Spencer clenched his jaw. "Well, you can tell Deirdre that her sister's husband's coworker is a brainless dickhead."

"Spencer!" You wanted to reprimand him, but the giggles that broke through betrayed your intention completely. "You don't know that. You've never even met the guy."

"Don't need to. He's got to be the biggest idiot in the world to have the audacity to stand you up when he should be thanking you for even giving him the time of day in the first place."

Your stomach churned into knots. "You appraise me way too highly, Spencer."

"I appraise you exactly as you deserve." Spencer's shoulder bumped against yours. Even under the layers of clothes you were wearing, your skin still managed to burn. "I wish you could see that."

His words washed over you like a high tide. Spencer was the only one who held such power in the world; the power to render you compliant just by the utterance of several words.

It should have been terrifying.

"Do you want to go home?" Spencer offered as he rose to his feet. "C'mon. I'll drive you."

"What? But your case—"

"They'll be fine without me."

You followed him to one of the parked SUVs several paces ahead. Spencer meandered for a minute towards a group of people whom you could only assume was his team. You offered a small wave and an awkward smile when their gazes slithered your way.

"I feel bad for taking you away like this," you admitted once Spencer returned. He had tendrils of curly hair falling down his forehead, and it took every willpower you had not to reach out and stroke them away.

"It's fine. They understand. We all cover each other all the time when one of us has more urgent things to do."

You were 100% certain that taking you home should not have been categorized as "more urgent things to do". After all, Spencer was a federal agent working a federal case, and you could've easily taken the metro or a taxi back to your place. If it had been any other person with you at that moment—if it had been any other guy—you doubted they would have gone through all those troubles for you.

But Spencer was different.

In a world of boys, Spencer Reid was a gentleman.

He opened the car door for you before getting himself into the driver's seat. The drive back to your apartment lasted a little over twenty minutes. You stared at the building outside your window before turning to face Spencer.

"I'm sorry again for hindering you from your job."

"Are you seriously just gonna keep apologizing to me?"

You grinned. "Maybe. Unless, well, you'd let me treat you to lunch sometimes. Or dinner. Whatever works for you."

Spencer chuckled. "Deal. Just text me when and where, okay?"

You bid your goodbye and exited the SUV. Just before you could close the door, though, Spencer suddenly called out your name.

You bent down and peered inside the car. "Yes?"

Spencer assessed you in silence before looking away. "Nothing. Just... don't forget to brush your teeth."

"Brush my teeth? Who are you? My mom?"

Spencer waved you off when you started to laugh.

"Goodnight, Spencer," you said one last time, slamming the car door and heading towards the entrance of your building.

Spencer's heart stirred as he watched you walk away. "Goodnight, angel."

[wheeboo]

run to you | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k

notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3

Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"

"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"

Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"

Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.

"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"

"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"

Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"

"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."

"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"

He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."

He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.

All he could think about is you.

Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.

Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.

The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.

He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.

Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.

The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.

"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."

He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.

"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"

You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.

"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.

He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.

You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."

Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."

You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."

His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"

His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.

"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.

"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.

Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.

"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.

He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.

"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."

You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.

"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.

The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.

You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.

As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.

The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.

He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.

You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.

"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."

He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.

He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.

It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.

He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.

"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."

The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.

"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"

"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.

"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.

"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."

The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.

Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"

"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"

Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.

His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.

But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.

Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.

When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.

"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."

"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."

"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.

You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."

Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."

another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom

[st4rfckerz]

Town Tramp | Anakin Skywalker x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mdni 18+, sub!ani, dubcon (?), handjob, oral (male receiving), virginity loss

summary: Anakin has only lived in the small town of Meadowgrove for a few months and is already making new friends.

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me while i took this little break, i really needed it 😭 but with that i’m very sure i’ll be posting normally very very soon.

The sun rises above the horizon, casting a warm haze over the quaint little town of Meadowgrove. Anakin Skywalker leaned against the counter of the local diner, chatting quietly with one of the cooks. He’d only been living in the small city for a little over three months, but he was already growing fond of its charm.

After exchanging a few final words, Anakin pushed open the door of the small restaurant, the bright summer sun blinding him, causing him to shield his eyes with his large hand. He glanced across the vacant sidewalk before spotting you casually walking along, your fingers opening a pack of cigarettes. As you stopped to pick a cigarette out of the box, a loud, obnoxious engine roared to life, accompanied by a chorus of rowdy laughter. A red, dilapidated pickup truck full of young men came speeding around the corner, the smell of old gasoline in the air. With a triumphant yell, one of the passengers threw a half-empty beer bottle out the window, aiming directly at you, its contents splattering across your shirt and legs.

Anakin's heart leaped into his throat as he watched the bottle arch through the air. It landed with a thud at your feet, followed by a chorus of degrading names and crude laughter. Your eyes flashed with anger, and without hesitation, you flipped the truck's occupants off as they sped away. Anakin marched forward, his strong hands balled into fists.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

“Yeah ‘m fine,” you respond, angrily wiping the spilled beer off your skin. Your gaze flicked to Anakin for a moment, and you couldn't help but take a second look. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Do I know you?” you say as you squint your eyes at him.

“Not that I know of,” Anakin replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I've only been here for a few months. Just moved in from a farm on the outskirts.” He glanced down at your pack of cigarettes, then back up at your face, unsure how to proceed. “Do you need help with that?” he asked, gesturing to the cigarette between your fingers. You smiled, your eyes meeting his as you bent down to meet the flame.

“Thanks,” you said, inhaling deeply, giving him your name shortly after. Your voice was smooth, like honey. Anakin flicked the lighter with a practiced ease, his face serious as he watched your lips part. “Anakin,” he replied, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He took a step back, unsure of what to say next.

“Well, I should get goin’,” you said, your eyes never wavering from Anakin's. “I'll see you around.”

“Wait,” He hesitated, concern lacing his face. “I don’t think it's safe for you to walk home by yourself,” he explains softly. You nodded, your smile returning as you tapped the ashes off the cigarette.

“Alright.” you said, taking one last drag before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath your boot. You started walking, your hair moving gently as you walked, reminding the boy of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Anakin fell into step behind you, his own boots clicking against the pavement. “So, how long have you been in Meadowgrove?” he asked, trying to break the silence.

“Since I was a little girl,”you replied, glancing over your shoulder at him with a playful grin. “What did you move to this lousy town for?”

Anakin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Just needed a change of pace.”

You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you. “A change of pace can be good,” you agreed. “I like the quiet here, but it can also be a little lonely.”

Anakin nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I've been keeping to myself mostly. It's tough to meet people.”

“Not anymore,” you smile, your eyes gleaming in the light. “Now you've got a walking companion.”

Your small conversation flowed easily in between the comfortable silence you fell into, the stillness of the town around you broken only by the occasional chirp of a lone mockingbird.

Eventually, you arrived at a small, white house nestled between two others. It had a porch with two lonely chairs and an american flag hung up in the window.

“Well, here we are, I hope you weren’t expectin’ Buckingham palace.” you announce, stopping in front of the withered porch. “Thank you for the walk, Anakin.” He smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction in knowing he'd been able to help you.

“Anytime. It was nice meeting you-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you gently grabbed his arm, your fingers barely brushing against the fabric of his flannel.

“Hey wait,” you chirp, your voice soft and inviting. “Do you wanna come in for a minute? It’s so hot, I can’t just let you tread back in the heat without a drink or something.”

He swallowed, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes once more. “O-okay.” he finally replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

The rickety screen door swung shut behind them, revealing a quaint, rustic living room. Vintage furniture filled the space, each piece well-loved and showing the signs of a life well-lived. A soft, plush couch sat near the fireplace, its floral print inviting. A rocking chair sat in the corner, a knitted blanket draped over the armrest. The walls were adorned with framed photographs and paintings, each one telling a story of your past. A wooden coffee table sat in the center, surrounded by a few mismatched chairs.

“What’ll you have?” you ask as you head towards the illuminated kitchen. Anakin stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, rocking anxiously back and forth on his heels. He found himself admiring the intricate detailing on the wooden table.

“Water’s fine.” He says with a tight smile. You soon returned with two glasses of ice-cold water, Anakin's eyes flicked to yours. “Thanks.” he muttered, taking the glass from your hands.

You sit on the plush couch, patting the seat next to you. “Come sit down, I don’t bite.” you joke, a smile playing on your lips as you settle in. Anakin did as you suggested, feeling the softness of the couch envelop him. He glanced around the room, taking in the cozy atmosphere.

“So, where are you headed when you leave here?” you ask, your curiosity piqued. Anakin swallowed the last of his water, setting the glass down on the coffee table.

“I don’t know, maybe just wander around for a bit, get some fresh air before bed.”

You nodded, sipping your water. “Well, if you ever need a companion on your wanders, you know where to find me.” Anakin smiled, feeling a sense of ease as he gazed at you.

“I'll keep that in mind,” he replied, his heart warming at the thought of spending more time with you. You pulled your knees sideways on the couch, resting your head on your hand propped on the back of the couch as you stared at Anakin. As you shifted in your seat, your cleavage was momentarily revealed, catching Anakin's eye. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt his cheeks flush with heat. He quickly stood up, his movements a little too abrupt. “I uh, I should get going.” he said, his voice a bit strained.

You looked up at him, confusion in your sweet eyes. “So soon?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Anakin fumbled with his words, his mind racing with any possible excuses.

“Yeah I gotta head back, can’t leave my folks waiting for too long y’know.” he replied with a nervous chuckle, his gaze darting around the room. You smiled knowingly.

“I’m sure they’re fine, you don’t wanna leave me here alone do you?” you teased, your eyes never leaving his. He hesitated for a moment, the heat in his cheeks refusing to subside. But your playful smile and the warmth of the room proved too enticing. Slowly, he settled back onto the couch, his body easing into its familiar position.

You chuckled softly, your hand brushing against his as you scooted closer. “There you go.” your voice a content hum.

Anakin sat stiffly on the couch, his nerves still on edge. You noticed his discomfort and reached over to gently squeeze his forearm. “Relax, Anakin.” you coo, your voice smooth as honey. His muscles slowly began to unclench, the tension draining away under your touch. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his body finally relaxing into the plush couch.

As Anakin relaxed, his eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the calm that enveloped him. His breathing evened out, and the tension in his body dissipated. But as his mind finally began to clear itself, a bulge began to form in his jeans.

You noticed the change, your smile widening. You shifted closer to him, your warm breath brushing against his ear. "I think you're enjoying yourself more than you thought, Anakin," you whispered, your hand gently brushing against his bulge.

His eyes snap open as he jerked away from your body.

“I didn’t- I’m so sorry, I’ll get going-” he stammered, his face a fiery red. You placed a gentle hand on Anakin's shoulder, your touch soothing.

“It's okay,” you coo, your voice soft and reassuring. “There's no need to be embarrassed.” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke softly.

“Let me take care of you.”

Anakin's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he should say no, but the temptation was too great. Anakin’s eyes peered down to your hand, and to his own surprise, he found himself slowly nodding his head.

“Just relax.” You whisper, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans. Anakin's breath caught in his throat as you slide your hand inside his pants, your touch gentle yet firm. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him through his boxers. Anakin's body responded to your touch, his hips bucking impatiently into your hand.

You obliged by pushing Anakin's boxers just beneath his balls, revealing his leaking cock.

“Aw baby, look at you,” You leaned forward, your spit landing right on his enraged tip. The cool glob felt like heaven against his heated skin. Anakin's body jerked, his head falling back against the couch as he let out a soft whine. His grip on the armrests tightened, his knuckles turning white.

“You feelin’ okay, sweet boy?” Your free hand reached up to caress Anakin's cheek, your touch gentle as you leaned in to kiss him softly.

His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours for a moment before closing again. “Y-yeah,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.

You increased your pace, your hand pumping his cock with feverish intensity. As you leaned forward once more, your lips slowly enveloped the head of his cock, your warm mouth enveloping him.

Anakin's back arched, his entire body trembling as you took him deeper down your throat. Your tongue swirled around the sensitive tip as your hand continuing to stroke the base.

Anakin didn't know what to do with his hands, his brain hazy with pleasure. Eventually, he reached out and gently rested his hands on the back of your head, his fingers carefully threading through your hair. The tension in Anakin's body tightened, his hips bucking up greedily into your mouth and soft whimpers leaving his lips as he felt himself getting closer and closer.

Anakin whined softly, his body trembling as he felt the edge nearing. “I’m so, ah- I’m s-so close.” he whimpered, his grip on your hair tightening. Sensing his urgency, you pulled your mouth off his aggravated cock, your lips glistening with saliva.

“Not yet,” you warn him. Anakin's brows furrowed, his body still quivering with need. “You’re too pretty to let go of so soon.”

You stood up and gracefully removed your shorts and underwear. You straddled his lap, your warm, wet cunt teasingly close to his throbbing erection.

Anakin's heart raced, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed body. “I haven't done this before,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, your hand stilling for a moment.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “Do you still want to?” Anakin nodded, his heart pounding in his chest.

He hums a ‘mhm’ his voice firm despite the nerves that coursed through him. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, your warmth enveloping him completely. Anakin let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips as you began to move. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, every nerve in his body alight with electricity.

You rode him slowly at first, your movements smooth and deliberate. You leaned forward and your lips brushing against his as you began to pick up the pace. Anakin's body responded to your touch, his hips rising to meet yours.

Anakin whimpered underneath you and his head tipped back against the back of the couch. You felt his hands finding their way to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he began to gently guide your movements. Anakin's body tensed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He could feel his orgasm building once more, the hot burn coiling within him, just waiting to snap.

“I’m- I’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hips tightening. You increased your pace, your movements quick and precise.

“I know sweetheart. Be a good boy and make me cum with you.” you muse from above him. Your words set off the final spark, and Anakin's body convulsed as he released inside your cunt. Your own orgasm followed close behind, your body shuddering as you rode out your climax.

“That was-” The sound of the front door opening jolted the both of you back to reality. Your heart leapt into your throat as you heard your father's voice, speaking about coming home early from work. Anakin's eyes widened, his body instantly tense.

You quickly hopped off Anakin’s lap, your heart pounding as you scrambled to cover yourself. Your father strode into the living room, his expression changing from exhaustion to pure anger.

“What in the world do you think you're doing?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Anakin. His face paled, his heart sinking as he realized the gravity of the situation.

Your father's anger boiled over, his voice a bellow as he ordered, “Get out of my house!” Anakin scrambled to pull up his pants, his movements hurried and clumsy as he tried to leave. You were too stunned to move and watched as he fumbled with the zipper.

In his haste, Anakin tripped on the rug, his body crashing forward as he tried to catch himself. The fall sent him tumbling out the front door, his body landing on the porch with a thud.

“And I don’t wanna see you around here anymore!” Your father slammed the door shut, leaving Anakin alone on the porch. His face burned with embarrassment, but he forced himself to his feet to finish pulling up his pants. Anakin brushed the dirt from the front of his pants and went on his merry way.

The walk back felt like an eternity, his thoughts whirling while he tried to make sense of the situation. The town that had once felt like a haven now seemed to mock him, the houses standing tall and judgmental as he made his way back to his humble abode.

[probablyintensemuses]

Hey, Brother

Armando Aretas

🎧- Story of My Life: One Direction

summary: Armando’s your older brother, here’s how you meet, past and present.

themes: extreme angst and fluff. A bit of violence. But mostly found family and sibling love.

authors note: completely convinced he’d be an amazing older brother. There is a 8 year age gap between reader (20) and Armando (28). Also shout out to my older brother…I wuv you 💞😭 Also yes I know i switched a few things around. Just enjoy it. If you want a part two, lemme know!

Read Part two here

Four Years Ago

Miami Florida University

The night on campus was quiet, the only things to be heard were the comforting trill of crickets and the soft waves of the ocean, only three miles out from the college.

Armando sat idle on his motorcycle, twelve beats away from where he’d been told you, their next victim, worked.

This entire time he’d been killing people in the name of the Aretas family, he couldn’t understand why Mike Lowery, some beat cop came last. And why his mother was resorting to taking his daughter as bait.

What made Mike so important that he deserved a fight for his life, for your life?

“Mamá, no entiendo, ¿por qué ella?” Armando says through his phone.

Isabel sighs on the other end. “Con el tiempo, hijo mío.”

“She’s just a kid.” Armando sighs, pulling out his ipad and looking at your photos again.

From what he gathered, your were a first year nursing student here at MFU, you got great grades, danced for a kpop club, and worked part time at the cafe he was currently parked out side of.

But most importantly, you were Mike Lowery’s daughter.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t matter.

But for some reason, to his mother, it did.

“She's a pawn,’ Isabel hisses. “Mike necesita conocer el dolor de la pérdida; this will show him.”

Armando nods, taking a deep breath, feeling the same incorrigible anger rising up in his pit again at the sound of Mikes name.

This man had stolen everything from him: his family, his dynasty…his father.

Though his didn’t understand his mother’s methods, he’d never question her madness.

This man took everything from them, it’s time he learned that same pain, and as much as he didn’t enjoy hurting innocent… you were the key to getting even.

“Lo haré mamá.” Armando said, watching you finally exit the cafe.

“Muy bien.” Isabel said, hanging up.

Armando pushed off on his bike, riding a bit down the narrow street before hanging a right and turning back around.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a needle. Whatever was in there was strong enough to knock out a bear, so it should have no problems sending you, a small college freshman, into a deep sleep.

Swiftly, he drives forward, accelerating until he just passes you before he makes an abrupt stop, cutting your path off.

You fall back and onto your ass.

You help as you hit the pavement, lifting your small hands to access the damage that had been caused by you cradling your fall.

You hiss at your bleeding palms before looking up at Armando in sheer disgust.

The heat of your gaze causes Armando to flip up the visor on his helmet, something in your eyes giving him pause.

He wasn’t a vain person in the slightest, but something about your eyes, when he looked in the mirror, they were so similar to his own that it nearly startled him. They were the same shade of chocolate brown covered by thick, dark lashes.

His observation of you quickly dries as your curse at him. “What the hell, dude! You could have killed me!”

Armando doesn’t say anything, instead he offers you a hand.

Reluctantly, you take it.

Just as your nearly up, Armando pricks you with the needle.

Your face drops as you snatch your hand away from him.

You look down at your palm, a single trail of blood dribbling down your wrist from the spot he pricked you at.

“What the fuck,’ you wobble, turning to run down an ally.

Armando watches as you attempt to flee, he knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

And as he predicted, ten steps in and you were slumped against the moist ally ground.

He picks you up, slinging you across his shoulders, carrying you towards his bike and driving off into the night.

Later…

When you awoke, you found yourself bound to a chair in a large, abandoned house. You wiggle against the binds, only scathing your wrist even more.

You scream out, panic rising in your chest as your breaths shorten.

"Help!" You scream. "Someone help me!"

"Help is on the way, princessa.' A slick voice says.

You turn and see a beautiful woman taking slow, slutry steps down the staircase towards you.

"Who the hell are you?" You croak, scooting away from her the best you can in this damn chair.

The woman, grips your chair with one hand, while running another through your curls. "Your fathers la venganza.” She hissed.

“Don’t touch me,’ you bite. “And my father did nothing wrong, you’re lying.”

Isabel grips your chin, hard. You try and wiggle free but it’s no use as she pulls you close.

She turns your head from side to side, the warm evening sun causing a glint in your eyes.

“Always the eyes,’ she mumbles. “He gives all of his children his eyes.”

“What?” You question, breathlessly.

Isabel forcefully lets you go, leaving a sore spot on your chin.

Your mind reels around her words and the weight of them.

She was your father’s revenge, why? And had she been the one to shoot him all those months ago?

And all of his children. Your father only had one child, you.

Looking around the wear house and seeing all the sage and candles burnt, the circles and alters, you could tell that whoever this woman was, she was crazy and you wanted no parts.

The thought was enough to make a few screams come out of you.

You stamp your foot against the ground, “Let me go! Let me the fuck go!”

Isabel rolls her eyes at you, mumbling something in Spanish before she shouts, “Armando, ven a llevarla antes de que la mate yo mismo.”

Quickly, the man for the other night emerges.

“No,’ you scoot back in your chair as far as you could. “No.”

The man, Armando, grabs you out of your chair and drags you up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, he slices your binds loose but still has a good hold on you.

Now, you by no means are a good fighter, but with your dad being police, you know a few things.

So as Armando unlocks a door, presumably to put you in, you stamp on his foot as hard as you can.

Armando yelps at the sensation, doubling over, giving you enough time to kick him in the legs and send him down on the ground.

As soon as he hits the floor you take off, running down the steps as fast as you can.

In the foyer, you check for the exit in front of you, but the door is locked.

Your head is buzzing, you didn’t have much time as Armando would be up soon, probably ready to kill you, and that Isabel, who knew what she’d do if she caught you.

You had to move fast, and the window behind you, seemed like your best bet.

You scurried over me to it, working frantically as you tore wooden planks off the window.

You about all got your face out the window before strong arms wrap around your waist living and pushing your back.

You scream as you hit the ground, coming face to face with a less than pleased Armando.

“Enough games!” He shouts.

You crawl backwards, afraid he’ll hit you…or worse.

“Okay!’ You whimper. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You squeak as he towers over your shaking body.

You fully expect him to return the blows you’d given him earlier, but to your surprise he doesn’t. He just grabs you up again and takes you back to that same room.

Shoving you inside he gives you a parting word.

“Do that shit again, and I won’t save you.” He slams the door, leaving you alone in a windowless room, wondering how you’ll end up dead.

In all the enemies your father has had, none of them had mad it a personal mission to kidnap you…so why had they?

Fingers toiling with the dirt around you, it finally clicked.

This was a set up.

You were bait.

And just as fate would have it, you could hear what sounded like your father and Marcus crowding in the foyer downstairs.

You stood up, running towards the door and banging on it like a madwoman.

“Help! Dad! Uncle Marcus!” You shout, slamming your fist against the door.

When the door flies open, you expect to see one or both of them there, but you see Armando.

“Come on.” He grabs you. “Nice and easy.” He places a gun to your temple.

“Stop, why are you doing this?” You whimper, taking careful steps down the stairs.

“Why did your father start it, hm, princesa?” He questions, pulling you in front of your family.

“Dad!” You shout, tears pooling from your eyes.

“Let her go, Armando!’ He shouts, turning to Isabel who stands elated. “She’s a kid.”

“We were all kids once, Mike. It’s why she must have her turn.” Isabel says.

Mike shakes his head, drawing his gun at her, Marcus doing the same to Armando.

“You kill me, he kills her.” Isabel shrugs.

Marcus adds, “then I’ll kill him.”

“Then it’ll be a blood bath.”

You whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

Armando tightens his grip on you. “Cállate.”

“I just want to go home, daddy.” You cry.

Mikes hand shakes as he hears your pleas. “I know, baby, and we will.”

Isabel smacks her lips. “Liar!” She shouts, lunging at Mike.

Mike dodges the hit, but Marcus’s gun going off starts a cataclysmic event.

Everyone who wants present before suddenly emerging from the darkness and letting off their weapons.

You scream, falling back into Armando, who lifted you off the ground with one hand while shooting with the other, as the chaos erupts around you.

“Marcus!’ Mike yells. “Get Isabel, I’ll get my daughter!”

Marcus sprints, to the best of his ability, after Isabel, while Mike makes full way towards Armando.

In a dark room, Armando drops you, pushing you into a corner.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” He threatens.

You whimper in a comply.

You hear your father, Mike, burst through the doors, calling your name.

You do as Armando says, though, keeping quiet, afraid anything you do or say will get you and Mike hurt…or worse.

You watch from the dark corner as your father searches the room, only seconds later Armando jumps him, landing a blow.

You watch from the sidelines as they traded blows back and forth.

And it hurt to watch your father in a fight, it did, but what hurt most? The words slipping from his mouth.

“Armando,’ he said. “I’m your father.”

Your head was buzzing, spinning.

What the fuck did he mean this man was his son? How was that even possible?

Your heart raced as you watched Armando’s face fall, confusion lacing every corner.

“You’re lying,’ he said lading another blow, bending down and dragging your father out of the room and into the burning hallway.

You weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or curiosity, but you needed to see this through, hear it for yourself.

You push to stand and creep after them.

Armando has your father at the ledge, his shirt balled up working his hands.

“Last chance,’ he croaks, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Lie again.” Armando growled, wrapping his hand around your fathers neck, applying pressure.

You gasped, stepping forward, but a hand cautioned you to stay hidden.

You turn, finding Marcus’s comforting eyes as he mouths, “Don’t do it.”

"He needs us," you whisper in protest, Marcus's arm staying firm on yours.

"They need this, just wait."

You relax, only a little watching the scene unfold.

"Ask your mother if you don't believe me." Mike croaks.

Armando turns, loosening his grip on Mike, and in a turn of lightning, Isabel appears, mumbling in Spanish.

"Es verdad lo que dice?" Armando questions his mother.

Isabel shrugs. "No es importante. Mátalo.' her eyes drag over to where you and Marcus stand. "Entonces ellos."

Armando shakes his head in frustration. "Es mi papá?"

Isabel's eyes darken, her words fleeing her mouth more rapidly. "

"Is he my father!" Armando shouts.

Something in the way your father laid limp in Armando's graps, the fire and smoke building around you all, and the life you once knew just yesterday crumpling around you had you desperate for the truth.

"Tell him!" You shout.

Isabel pays you no mind when she says, "yes."

Three letters.

One word.

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You had a brother you hadn't known about, a brother who drugged and kidnapped you.

all of his children have his eyes.

A brother your father had behind you and your mother's back.

The realization made your mind splinter, picking up in your chest with each shortened breath you took.

Tears pooled in your eyes, making the scene in front of you blur and sharpen, wax and wane.

It's not until a shout and commotion caused you to dial back in, where you find Isabel pointing the barrel of her gun directly at your chest.

You're too frozen to move and put your hands up to brace yourself for the pain, for death.

But it never comes.

only the sounds of four shots ringing out and blaring in your ears, that's the only sensation you get.

You move your hands from your eyes and find Isabel falling over the balcony to her death and Armando on the floor, his shirt filling with blood as Mike, Marcus, and Rita crowd around him.

It clicks then for you, he took that bullet for you, he stepped in for you against his mother.

This family was dysfunctional as hell.

"Get over here!' your father calls out to you. "Now!"

You scurry over, tearing off your flannel and placing it on Armando's wound.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Rita shouts.

"Go with Rita!" Mike shouts towards you.

You nod, locking hands with Rita and rushing out of the burning building.

Once outside, you look behind yourself to find Mike and Marcus dragging Armando's body and placing him on the ground, applying pressure to his wounds.

The rain clouds your vision as you draw closer to the van waiting to take you away and back home.

"Is he going to be okay?" You ask, holding your wet and naked arms.

Rita sighs, ushering you into the car. "I don't think that's something you should have to worry about.' She smiles softly. "Get some rest, kid. Okay?"

You nod and shut the door, feeling the car jerk before it pulls off and away from the chaos.

You fasten your seatbelt and lean your head back against the headrest.

Perhaps Rita was right, maybe worrying about Armando wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was best for you to shove it down and let your dad deal with it, like he did everything.

Because you didn't think your heart could handle any more than what it was already going through. Thinking about Armando, your father, and Isabel...it would only weigh you down more.

So you decided to leave them all at that building that night, to burn up in the flames.

At least you tried to...

Four Years Later

Miami Florida University

"Please tell me you're coming to this party tonight?" Your friend, Kiesha, asked over the phone.

You chuckle, climbing the last flight of stairs to your apartment. Your father, Mike, had got it for you as gift for being in your last year of college.

“I can’t, sorry.’ You place the key code to your apartment and the door unlocks. “Lots of studying to do.” You half-lie.

“Girl, all you do is study. You know college is not actually for school.” You can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

You drop your bags on the counter, pulling out a pack of ramen noodles and starting a pot of boiling water.

“That’s easy to say for someone who’s only half majoring in, what is it, communications?” You comment.

The line goes silent for a minute before Keisha comes back.

“Wow,’ she scoffs. “I get that you’re stressing out with finals and you know, your dad being a fucking fugitive and all, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

You run a hand through your hair, it getting tangled within your curls towards the end.

“Kiesh,’ you groan.

“Save it. Have fun studying.” She grumbles before hanging up.

“Fuck!’ You shout, turning and tossing your phone down the hallway.

Your grip at your hair and tug slightly, shutting your eyes you feel a hot tear slip out.

It had been a whole week since your father and uncle Marcus were deemed fugitives and accused of doing God knows what. It had been hard for you and Christine.

Knowing your father, you knew the allegations weren’t true, but another cover up, same as Captain Howard.

Still, you know it was bullshit meant nothing to the “adults” in charge. They saw him as guilty, and that seemed to be the end of it.

You turn, wiping away your tears and placing your ramen into the boiling pot of water.

It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could stomach these days, the fear of your family's future causing your appetite to slim.

You twirling the noodles in the water with a pair of chopsticks, watching the five minute timer chime by. It all but captivated you into a trance until a creak against the floor caught your attention.

You turn your head, peering down the hallway you had just thrown your phone. Staring into the darkness, you see a figure moving towards you slowly.

You gasp, grabbing a large knife and holding it out in front of you with shaky hands.

You would call for help, but unfortunately your phone was in harms way.

“Don’t come any closer,’ you squeak.

The figure doesn’t respond, it just trudges closer and closer to you until it’s emerged into your kitchen lighting.

At first, you have to squint real hard to make out who it is, but then, when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, so hauntingly like your own, you know who exactly it is.

Your brother, Armando.

You don't drop the knife, keeping it held high as you slowly approach him. You'd seen how vicious he was, and you weren't taking any chances with him.

Closing the space between you two, you could see that he's in full tactical gear, covered in blood.

He takes another step towards you, you step back, before collapsing onto the ground and passing out.

You rush towards his side. “What the hell!” You rip open his vest, finding all kinds of stab wounds and lacerations littering his body. “Armando!” You shake him.

He doesn’t respond, you shake him again, harder this time, and a tiny black book falls out.

You open the book and find your address on one sheet and another sheet addressed to you.

Don’t hate me, babygirl. I’ll explain everything soon, until then, you two lay low.

Be strong for me.

Love, Dad.

You could scream, you could actually fucking scream right now.

No way this motherfucker sends this other motherfucker to your house for you to nurse back to health.

You crumple up your father’s note, chucking it across the room.

Looking down at Armando, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unconscious.

It was obvious he was loosing blood, and you could let him bleed out and pretend you tried everything.

But then again, he saved your life before…and he didn’t even know you.

Guilt tugged in your chest at the thought.

“Fuck.” You breathed, throwing your head back.

You knew what you had to do.

You figured lifting him would be hard, he was bigger than you by a long shot and was basically deadweight.

You tapped him, shook him, slapped him…hard, but nothing woke him up.

Looks like you’d be operating on the floor.

You stood, gathering your curls in a pineapple on your head, and headed to your bathroom.

You grabbed all the first aid kit supplies you could find, fresh clothes, a blanket and pillow, before heading back out to the main part of your apartment.

You slipped on some gloves, cut open his shirt, and began working on his wounds, dressing them and putting on bandages.

Thank God for nursing school and clinicals.

It took you two bowls of ramen, a Celsius, and a whole heck of a lot of bandages and gorilla glue, but you got Armando mostly patched up.

You wiped the sweat of your forehead grabbing the pillow and blankets you’d grabbed.

You gently lifted his head placing the pillow underneath and the blanket on top of him.

Next to his body you placed the fresh clothes, Gatorade, protein bars, and a bottle of water.

When you finally stood, you felt woozy and in need of a shower and sleep yourself.

But before you crept off to take your shower, you stood over Armando, taking in his features.

His dark hair, his smooth skin, his nose, and lips. He looked like a Spanish version of your father and it was freaking you the fuck out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You walked away hoping your father’s explanation was coming soon because, you may have just saved his life on the conscious fact that he’d done the same for you, but he was still dangerous…and who knows what would happen to you when he wakes up.

The next morning, when you wake up, you creep out of your bedroom, peaking to see if Armando had moved at all.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

You release a heavy sigh, walking over towards his body.

You watch his chest rise and fall, faster than last night.

Good.

At least your dad couldn’t kill you for letting his son die.

You lean in a big closer to Armando, checking out his wounds from a far.

One wound had opened it seemed like.

You turn and grab the gorilla glue and a bandage of your counter.

Completely removing one bandage, you toss it to the side, pinching the skin of his chest while prepping the glue.

You’re just about to glue his would shut again, when his arm shoots up, gripping your wrist.

You scream, falling back on your ass.

Armando’s eyes shoot open and he sits up quick in a panic.

You crawl backwards, away from him, bumping into the cabinet .

Armando groans, rubbing his sore torso and arms.

His eyes skate across the room before they find yours.

He jumps back a little. “¿Qué diablos me hiciste?”

You swallow, holding your knees. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Armandos eyes widen then narrow. “Did you do this to me?” He says, accessing his bandages.

You hesitate to tell him the truth…would he be mad and hurt you again?

Armando must sense the hesitation. “I’m not going to hurt you,’ he groans, slowly standing up. “It’s just a question.”

You nod, backing away from him. “Yes…I did.”

Armando swipes up the bottle of water, chugging it, tossing it aside, and then going for the Gatorade. “Gracias.” He grumbles, heading towards your bathroom.

You stand, slowly following after him, still keeping some distance between you two.

Armando peers over his should, eyebrow raised. “Mike sent me, if you’re wondering.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”

“I never said that.” You clarify, even though he’s not wrong.

“Don’t need to.”

You frown. “Armand—,”

He slams the door shut.

“Great.” You roll your eyes. “Just fucking great.”

You slam your head against the wall, thinking off all the ways you would tell your dad off when you saw him next. But until then, it seemed you and Armando would be roommates.

So you should try and be cordial, right?

[ninii-winchester]

You’d never know (Part 2)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings : angst, based on s13 ep10 (wayward sisters) so spoilers, canon violence, more like a filler chapter. Not proofread.

A/n: I have no self control when it comes to Dean Winchester so I’m turning this into a mini series😭

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

“Sam, can you call me back I just need to know that you're okay.” Jody Mills left a voicemail to Sam Winchester. She had called the older Winchester but when he didn’t answer she called the younger one. However neither answered, she left a voicemail to Sam and decided to call Y/n. Hoping she might respond. There was knock on the door and Jody opened the door immediately.

“Patience?” She questioned looking at the young girl.

“Jody I had a vision something bad is coming.” Was all it took Jody to immediately call Y/n L/n.

Y/n didn’t know how much time had passed since Sam and Dean left her there, it was still dark out there, she was still standing in front of the warehouse that the angels took Kaia to. Y/n still hadn’t reeled from the betrayal she face not many hours ago. Her eyes were blood shot red from keeping in the tears that she kept from falling. She was angry and frustrated, she was angry at Dean, at herself for letting him hurt her so easily. Its her own fault she gave her weakness right into his hands for him to use it against her. She felt pathetic, still crying for the one who hurt her the most, he doesn’t deserve her tears.

Her head was pounding against her skull and she could feel a splitting hot white pain surging through her head. She groaned dropping down to her knees her fingers curling on the pavement, wanting to distract herself from the emotional pain by inflicting physical pain on herself. She felt vibration of her phone against her jean pocket, and pulled out to see an incoming call from Jody.

“Hey.!” She answered as calmly as possible.

“Hey where are you? Where’s Sam and Dean? They haven’t been answering their phones. Everything okay?” Jody bombarded her with questions. “I think I need your help.”

“I’ll be at your house in a few hours.” Was the only thing Y/n said before she hung up.

Y/n was in no mood to have a heart-to-heart with Jody and the older woman clearly needed help. Y/n might as well distract herself. She picked herself from the ground, brushing the dirt off the clothes she started walking. She reached the main road and walked the sidewalk waiting for a car to pass-by. It took her a few hours to reach Jody’s house. She knocked on the door, the door opened revealing Claire. Y/n let herself in when she spotted Alex and an unfamiliar girl.

“Y/n this is Patience. Patience this is Y/n, she’s a hunter.” Jody introduced the girl to the hunter.

“You’re Missouri’s granddaughter. Your grandma was a great woman.” Y/n said shaking hands with the girl. The girl nodded in acknowledgment.

“So, Sam and Dean, what do we know?” Claire said walking towards the couch and plopping down on it.

“I think they’re missing.” Jody replied. “Last I heard from was this voicemail from Sam.” She said playing his voicemail. Sam’s voice told them they’ve been looking for girl named Kaia. “That was three days ago.” Jody addd.“Speaking of, why aren’t you with them?”

Y/n’s heart dropped as she was reminded back of why she wasn’t with the boys in the first place. Jody obviously didn’t know and unknowingly struck a nerve, the wound was way too fresh to be touched. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I uh…” she cleared her throat scourging her brain for a convincing lie. “Jack said something about going to the Wind Caves. They’re with this dream walker girl, Kaia that Sam mentioned. She can help them find Mary. I uh volunteered to stay back to fight the angels who’re after Jack.” She spoke fast, avoiding eye contact.

“Alright.” Jody didn’t seem convinced but she didn’t prod. Y/n could feel the tension between the other three females present in the room. She gestured Jody to follow her into the kitchen. When the two of them were out of earshot of the two girls Y/n folded her arms across her chest and raised her brow. Jody sighed before speaking.

“It’s Claire.”

“What about her?”

“She wants to go. She wants to find Sam and Dean.” Jody said exasperatedly.

“So? It’s Sam and Dean! She might not say it but she cares for them alot and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting her come with. The girl’s been hunting on her own just fine.” Y/n replied not understanding.

“Patience had a vision.” Jody replied. “She saw Claire getting stabbed and I can’t let that happen, Y/n.”

“We won’t let anything happen to her. We’ll keep her safe.” Y/n replied. “You can’t keep her locked up, Jody. I know you want to protect her but this isn’t the right way.” She said patting the sherrif’s shoulder and the woman nodded.

Alex went to her shift at the hospital. Claire went out on her own, then two of them came back with Kaia.

“What’re you doing here? Where’s Sam, Dean and Jack?” Y/n questioned the dream walker but she kept quiet. “Where are they god damnit answer me!” Y/n snapped. Her heart shouldn’t be threatening to leap out of her chest at the thought of losing Dean, because she already did. But she couldn’t help herself.

Kaia informed that they’d been heading towards Sioux Falls when they got run over and they pulled into an abandoned boatyard. Jack opened a door to the other world but Kaia lost control and accidentally took them to The Bad Place and she doesn’t remember anything after that. Alex quickly found it was the Larsen brother’s courtyard.

While the the girls were gearing up, Y/n heard Alex and Patience scream. She grabbed her gun and immediately rushed upstairs to Alex’s room. There was an unfamiliar creature closing in on Patience. Y/n immediately shot the thing in the head. It didn’t kill him but it slowed him.

“Run. Get everyone out of the house.” She told the two girls and they ran for their lives. She grabbed the creature by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach, his weapon dropping to the floor as she did. She picked it up and stabbed him with it, killing him.

“That thing is not from here, which means the rifts still open. We gotta hurry.” Y/n said as she ran out of the house.

While Y/n and the girls drive to the Wind Caves, Sam and Dean were stuck in The Bad Place The two had been walking around the place to find a way out when Sam spoke.

“Dude what the hell was that?”

“What?” Dean asked looking around cautiously.

“With Y/n.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Dean replied walking further. Sam sighed knowing there’s no point in arguing.

Y/n, Jody and the girls arrived at the boatyard soon enough. Y/n noticed another car parked beside the Impala. Donna got out of the car as soon as she noticed their arrival.

“Thought we could use the backup.” Jody commented as Donna pulled Alex and Claire in a hug. Y/n gave her a nod.

Y/n hoped they could find Sam and Dean or it would get messy really soon.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[tmntxthings]

hiii could i request some headcanons for a touch starved!casey jr with a reader who their love language is physical touch [romantic/fluff]? idk i just want to give to my baby a hug, he deserves so much better😭

一∑ Tender Connections

author’s note: i agree this boi needs all the hugs c:

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort themes, touchstarved!casey jr. x gn reader, unedited

—————————————————————————

Ever since Kraang was defeated Casey never stopped training. It was ingrained in him since birth that he always needed to be ready for the next catastrophe.

But those were few and far between even with the weird magnet company of the turtles + April! Despite everyone’s attempts at wanting to show Casey the new world he was now in, he would go back to the lair and train until he was sore.

One time Leo tried to keep him out all night which was quite possible in New York since the city never slept. There was an endless amount of possibilities to get into some fun and maybe a little mischief if it involved the blue turtle.

But Casey’s stamina and resilience was equivalent if not better than all of the turtles due to his upbringing. He wouldn’t have survived the apocalypse otherwise. So when Leo finally portaled them back to the lair, barely having enough energy to do so without passing out seconds later, he didn’t get to see Casey’s knowing smile.

The boy from the future easily picked up his younger sensei and got him to bed. Then it was off to the dojo, where he continued to stay up until he felt like he had gotten a good enough training session in. What he wasn’t expecting, was you to be leaning against the circular doorway.

“You know, you may have the worst sleeping habits out of all of them if Leo’s passed out.” You quipped and Casey could only offer a shy smile as he picked up the last of the equipment he had used. “I told him it wouldn’t work… to be fair” Casey muttered.

You didn’t know what to say. Things like, “Kraang is defeated now! And we can’t take some time to relax” didn’t really compute with Casey even if he agreed. His body just was wired a certain way and he didn’t know if it would ever relax. Even now his muscles which were exceedingly sore, ached for a different reason. He felt restless. He didn’t want to sleep. He felt like fighting. He felt like defending and protecting the city from some new unknown source of danger that was surely building up its forces now

Thoughts like these were driving him crazy. And you could see it. “Why don’t we go out?” You asked and watched as his mouth dropped open, about to refute that such methods didn’t work as Leo had literally just tried all evening to wear him down.

But you stopped him before he could refuse. “Just to a rooftop! It’ll only be a few minutes,” and how could he deny you? As he took you in, it was obvious that you had forced yourself to stay up. Had you been waiting for them to get back? You were in comfy pjs and your hair was a bit disheveled from what he could only guess was tossing and turning in bed. “Alright,” he sighed, shaking his head but continued to follow a step behind with a slight grin.

It was nice to know how much you cared. How much everyone cared about him! But something about you in particular made him feel a tad warmer.

So up to a rooftop you went. The sky was dark and there were blinking satellites that mimicked stars. The city still alive and thriving just as he had left it, but the rooftop was calmer than the sidewalks. It was quieter. He didn’t know if that was a good thing for a person like him. The quiet invited in thoughts that he’d rather not think about. Like his endless worries and paranoia.

He had been sitting on the low rise ledge that bordered the entire rooftop. One foot started to tap anxiously just to offer any kind of distraction when you had sat down next to him, carefully since past the ledge was a seven story drop to pavement. Your proximity eased those nerves somehow and with knees almost knocking, you faced Casey and started talking

About anything and everything! About yourself and your hopes and dreams. You asked about his now that he was here and didn’t have to live day by day. Talking like that made it sound like the future wasn’t always in peril. As if maybe he would have enough time to do other things, like try every restaurant in NYC. And travel outside of the city, even New Jersey which he still didn’t understand why the guys all disliked the place.

The conversation ebbed and flowed naturally until silence overtook once more and this time Casey didn’t have the overwhelming urge to distract himself. Instead he just took a deep breath in and out, letting it go in a long sigh. Then his breath caught in his throat because he hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten while talking. Your hand finding his in that moment and your fingers intertwining with his as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking down at your connected hands, and he shivered all over as you started to trace patterns on the back of his hand. The pressure he had unknowingly been carrying around released from his shoulders. His eyes darted up to yours, finding that you were already there, waiting for his gaze.

In the moonlight he tried to convey his gratitude, because what could he say in this moment that wouldn’t ruin it? He squeezed your hand, comforted by the pressure. Grounded by the gentle hold that you had on him.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. Until your eyelids started to flutter and your body couldn’t stay upright. He of course more than welcomed you to lean on him, but he didn’t want to push his luck and didn’t want to keep you awake any longer when it was obvious both of you needed sleep. “C’mon,” Casey spoke softly, rousing you to try and get you to stand.

But it seemed you were either already out of your wits or maybe just trusted him wholeheartedly because you only scooted closer to him, allowing him to pick you up in his arms and carrying you back down to your bed. Which of course was done easily enough by him since he always had his grappling hook at the ready. It all ended quite too soon for his liking as he carefully let you go so you could snuggle under your covers, rasping out a goodnight to him with your eyes closed.

Would it be horrible of him to admit he had wanted to kiss your forehead so badly in that moment?

After that night, Casey was in for much more than handholding. While that still happened often, hugs became second nature between the two of you. He reveled in your hold, a days worth of stress releasing as soon as your arms encircled around him. Your hands at his back, going up and down in soothing strokes had him holding on tighter when it was time to let go. “Just a little longer?”

He’d shyly ask. If you didn’t want to he would immediately let go. But you always indulged him with a bright smile. So don’t get too mad when he starts to become greedy! With this revelation of him wanting and seeking out your gentle touch, he’d pull you into quiet corners like a true ninja.

One second you’d be in the middle of a Mario kart game and as soon as it was over you found yourself being tugged up and away because Casey had a really important thing to show you or a question that only you could answer! It got more and more ridiculous until Mikey called the both of you out and said you didn’t have to sneak around to hug!

Once PDA was on the table Casey never looked back. He was stuck to your side and honestly, you wouldn’t rather it any other way! <3

[hoeforhao]

🌙 Fated Under The Rain ☆ Wonwoo Oneshot ☆

↝ pairing: ex boyfriend! wonwoo × fem! reader

↝ genre: explicit language, smut with little plot, minors dni!!!!!! mutual pining but mainly from wonwoo, fluff, slight humor, overall nothing heavy just a small sensual drabble.

↝ warnings: unprotected sex(wrap it up kids), creampie, breast play, fingering, marking. Tell me if I missed any!

↝ summary: will offering lift to the man who left you in pieces amidst heavy rain lead to something your heart has been craving for months?

↝ word count: 2k(am sorry😭)

↝ author's note: was driving back home yesterday while it was literally pouring down outside, my favorite song playing on spotify and all i could think of instead focusing on the road was this plot!

Lemme know if you enjoyed the drabble! Feedbacks always make me feel warm♡

Permanent taglist : @feat-sun @joonsytip

Amidst the rain seeping it's path down the glass panels, the heaven clan's haze shielding your view from the mundane maneuver of the blurred out world, your glistening beads have found their long craved spot onto the tall, broad shouldered man standing by the signal, hair and shirt completely soaked up from the pouring skies, while his eyes were desperately searching for a way back - was it to his brick stoned house or his lost home?

"Going back home?" thrusting on the clutch and then the brake to bring your car to a halt at the blinking bloody lights, you roll down the passenger side's window as a way to offer some sort of help to the seemingly distressed man on top of the pavement.

A familiar voices grazes wonwoo's ears as his eyes shoot up in anticipation,looking for the owner of the claimed voice, only to land them on you. Did rain cloud his vision? Cuz there's no way that you were now parked beside him, asking whether he's struggling to get back home or not.

"Y-yes" the older nervously scratches the back of his head, not sure of what to say to the person he has pained so deep.

"I can drop you off, if you don't mind obviously" only you knew how hard it was for you to maintain an indifferent composure before the one man you've cared for and treasured so dearly, being fully aware of the fact that he's highly sensitive to rainwater; 'typical cat behavior' you laugh at yourself!

"No its fine. I'll find a cab soon" wonwoo tries to be as polite as possible, even though every vein of his body wants to jump into the car right now.

"I've been watching you clawing onto your scalp in frustration for the past 30 minutes and you think i'll still believe in your 'will find a cab soon'?" you genuinely didn't realise when the old habits took over the new persona and you started acting as the protective girlfriend you were, visualizing that one time he fell severely ill for days after getting poured onto on his way to the office; a memory you never wanna revisit ever again.

"Hop on quick if you don't wanna end up amongst the white walls for the second time!! Only 10 seconds are left to go" eyes quickly deviating towards the beeping timer of the signal, while you shift up the gear and slowly start bringing up your feet off the floor, ready to drive out as soon as the light turns green.

All of wonwoo's self control leave his body seeing the same old care flash by on his lost lover's face, as he swiftly pulls onto the door's latch, positioning his nearly drenched body onto the leather seats.

The defeaning silence between the two past kins were filled by wonwoo's occasional glances at the strong independent lady sitting beside him and the radio playing your favorite songs, those which you constantly looped onto spotify throughout the entire spell of your heart longing for wonwoo.

Looks like even the gods are against you today as a warm wet hand lands on yours that were stationed onto the gear beside. As much as you wanted to engulf those palms into yours instantly and never let them go, you knew quite well that he was now not yours, not your to claim, not your to hold onto. Thus the only thing you could do was keep your eyes fixed onto the slippery road infront and drive him home safe.

But the heavens knew better. Your plans were currently going for a battle with you as wonwoo kept on grazing his soft gentle digits onto the back of your hand, everytime you shifted them to change the gear, drawing small circles on them occasionally.

The sensation now reaching the threshold of your body, making your skin call for the touch of his lips and your insides craving the warmth of his body, it was time for you to slow down your car by a deserted road and park the black shiny carrier under the moonlight.

"What do you want wonwoo?" a stern yet begging pair of eyes turns towards the passenger seat, where the big man was resting his wet body on.

"I miss you y/n. I've always missed you" wonwoo now completely engulfs your palms into his, squeezing them hard from the anticipation of what's about to come his way. "Can...can i feel you for one last time, pls?"

You see the desperation behind those black boba balls, the way those droplets of tears are being held captive in the backroom; besides it was gradually getting hard to ignore the pained screams of your body to feel him beneath you. Abandoning all the huff,anger, hurt that made their home in you for so long, you fleetly jumped out from the driver's seat while pushing back wonwoo's to make enough space for you on his lap.

Startled by the sudden presence of your wet clothed cunt over the tent in his tight jeans, wonwoo's body jolts up in the heat flowing through him, dulling his morals and senses as he only wants to fuck the life out of you right now ; and he shows no delay in his endeavor as he clings his mouth onto your neck like a beast deprived of his meal for months, loitering the supple skin beneath with his marks.

"I missed you so fuckin much y/n" he whispers into your nape, hands roaming up your waist, under your satin shirt, caressing the soft pillowy tummy he has always preferred laying on, pawing onto your boobs over the black lacey bra you wore to work, for lord knows what reasons; while his lips now clutched themselves to your plumpy vanilla lips.

"May I, please?" there's literally not a single person on the earth who can say no to those pleasing kitty eyes. So you just hummed against the kiss - not a passionate one but a longing one; wonwoo's lips were moving on yours in such insatiable hunger that it seemed like he wanted to imprint the taste onto his mouth forever, who knows if he'll ever get to feel them again....as if his lips have finally found their twin flame they've been craving for months now!

One single go signal from you and wonwoo wasted no time in tugging onto the buttons of your flowy shirt, ripping them open in just a matter of seconds. His eyes lit up like an excited puppy upon seeing your bare skin, glowing under the moonlit rainy sky....oh how he has missed this sight of yours so much, you whimpering on him, all vulnerable and begging for his touch against your heated core.

"Fuck you're still so sweet my love" he moans into your jiggly soft boobs, mouth fixed onto one of your hardened nipples, while he pawed at the other one.

The words 'my love' from the mouth of the one your heart still belongs to, still craves for and still wants to be claimed by, does no good in controlling the dripping from your already soaked pussy, as you start roughly grinding against his clothed length.

"Hmmm so impatient for my cock, aren't you pretty baby" a wide smirk creeping it's way onto wonwoo's face as he notices you getting impatient to feel him inside you. Finding it exciting and a prideful moment for him, the hand that was kneading onto your doughy mounds now trails down to your panties under the very convenient skirt your were harboring ; drawing his cold fingers over your sensitive clothed clit sending your head thrown against the windshield of your car.

"Pls..pls stop teasing and fuck me already wonu" you were yourself amazed at how desperate you seemed for his cock in your throbbing pussy.

"But I don't have a condom sweetheart" wonwoo knew absolutely well that you didn't give a damn about having unprotected sex with him as he smirked onto the skin around your nipples, teasing your wet sticky fold with his free fingers ; pulling out a string of slick from your pussy infront of you, he proudly shows you how much of a slut you're for his touch.

"You..ahh...you think...I....shit...fuckin care about having a condom right now? Just go in raw please....haven't felt your cock in me....for so long....fuck" lord if anyone ever got near to the black beauty parked on the roadside and heard the lewd sounds escaping your lips, they would surely be traumatized for days, but that was the least of your concerns now.

"As my princess wishes" and with that wonwoo quickly moves his limbs towards his pants, shoving down the chain of his trousers in the flick of an eye, while he finally releases his strained hard cock from its restraints, precum leaking down its tip as he tries to slightly palm down the pain before sheathing them into your walls.

"Just as tight as I left it" he growls onto your neck as his cock now thrusts into your slick walls at a inhumane pace, as if he slowly down, he'll forever lose the warmth of this pussy. "Fitting me so well into the mould u created only for me to fill"

The rain outside and the haze of all the juices leaking from the two bodies inside the car, creates a mystical world bounded within the tinted glasses of the vehicle, while wonwoo keeps on fucking you dumb onto his lap.

"I...I'm near wonw-- ah fuck" you lose control over your core muscles at the sensation of wonwoo's tip hitting your womb, as your core's glistening cream paints his black jeans white ; not to mention you were now embarrassed at the fact that he has to go home with such stained pants....or maybe not-

"My pretty little whore, so glowy after ruining my new jeans huh" you can feel wonwoo's pace slowing down a bit, knowing quite well what's about to follow. "Lemme return the favor and ruin your insides, ruin your pussy so that no one can get to bury themselves in you, except me.....only my hole to fuck"

Wonwoo's body falls limp onto the headrest of the seat as he shoots his entire load into you, cock still moving amongst your walls, fucking his seeds deep inside you.

"Can i have another chance, please?" wonwoo finally looks you into your pleasure coated eyes while shifting you on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, resting his sweat forehead onto yours.

"At what? Fucking me?" you were seemingly confused at his words as you didn't think he would be wanting anything else other than sex, after how he let go off your hand in the middle of you two's promised path, 8 months ago.

"No...no...at l-loving you, pls" his voice suddenly portrays a cast of regret and pain, "I know I fucked up, I hurt the one I've loved with all my might all this time. I...I could never get you out of my head y/n, my eyes and my heart kept looking for you at every corner of my messed up life. Pls, will you give your catto one last chance?" something unexpected rolled down wonwoo's cheeks and it was none other than tear drops. Was...was he really crying for you, begging you back into his arms again?

"This time if you leave, I'll make sure to castrate you, so that you can't ever get a girl around you after me" you laugh onto his skin while placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, your fingers wiping off the dried out tears on his cheeks.

"I'll happily place my dick under your guillotine, my highness" wonwoo hasn't felt this happy since months, heart fluttering at the thought of walking beside you again, fingers locked into one another's.

Your heart swells looking at the misty scene outside, remembering how the first time you two decided to date, it was raining cats and dogs as you were pulling him under a tree to sheath yourselves from the rain...and now when the skies decided to grant you another chance at healing your soul with the one you loved, it's raining heavily - again!!!

"Eh but what about your pants wonu, how will you go home with these...ummm...stains" a genuine question you've been dying to ask him, as you surely don't have a change for men's jeans in your car.

"Who said we are going home baby"

[kairiscorner]

prompt #4

teen!gojo x oblivious!reader, cause i love me some flirty x oblivious trope cause they're so silly 😭

don't forget to take care of yourself btw!!!

🐨-

HI 🐨 ANON !! :D omg FR, I LOVE THAT????? HUHU I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS 🫶🫶🫶

what kinds of feelings? — teen!satoru gojo x reader

summary: you finally admit to gojo the weird sensations you've been feeling around him. you can't understand why you've been feeling this way, but gojo's glad one thing's clear: you feel the same way he does for you. word count: 888

"my heart beats all the time, shouldn't be a big deal, but i can't help but notice how loud the beating is when you're around..." you muttered as you looked up at gojo, feeling a warmth in your cheeks as you sat down next to him under the shade of a tree by an empty street you two were stationed to monitor (though you were sure geto and shoko gave you guys the wrong location on purpose). gojo looked down at you when he heard those words escape your mouth and soon, a smile appeared on his lips, which opened and laughter came tumbling out of his mouth as he thought on what you just told him.

what was funnier to him was that not even you realized what you just said even meant, and that was, to gojo, the cutest thing ever. he leaned closer towards you, his cyan blue eyes bearing holes into your own as he smirked at you. "really now...?" he began as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, which made you whimper a little at the closeness between you two and the feeling of his hand on your shoulder. oh, there it was again, that beating... it was so obvious now, you felt like at any moment, your heart would burst out of your chest and land on gojo's lap. you didn't hate the feeling, though, you were just so confused as to why it beat that loudly, that rapidly.

"yes..." you murmured as gojo brushed his cheek against yours and stuck his tongue out at you playfully. "mmm, okay, okay, what else do you feel around me?" he asked you in a lower voice as he soon pressed his thigh against yours, which sent warm shivers down your spine. "i... um..." you stammered as gojo grabbed your cheeks gently and turned your head to look at him as he gave your cheeks a light squeeze. "c'mon now, no need to be shy... you were so bold in what you said earlier, care to indulge me in any more trivia about yourself when i'm near?" he teased you without you even realizing it as he slid his hand underneath your thigh and held you by your shoulders and the backs of your thighs.

you yelped at him suddenly carrying you like you were an infant and called out his name out of embarrassment. "satoru...!" you exclaimed with a flustered face and widened eyes as gojo laughed again at your sweet little reactions. he brought his face even closer to yours and nuzzled his nose against yours as he chuckled. "what's wroooooong? i'm not hurting you, am i?" he asked you as he got up and began to walk away with you like you were his spouse to be. you clung on to his uniform top, which made him whistle low at your nervousness. "how cute..." he cooed as he brushed his nose against your cheek.

"y'know... i get the same feeling, too, when you're around. it's not like anything i've ever experienced before, it's an even more fun kind of adrenaline, and best of all..." he trailed off as he brought you up closer to his face, his lips hovering over yours as you quivered and got even more flustered in the face, your eyelashes tickling his cheek a little as he smirked and began to speak again. "...only you can make me feel this way... i really, really love it..." he whispered as he leaned down even more to almost connect your lips together, that was, until shoko and geto saw you two after they were going to tell you two the mission was on the opposite side of town.

gojo chuckled as he let go of you, with you falling down to the pavement as he dropped you. "asshole!" you exclaimed as he walked around your figure as you got up on your feet, with shoko and geto aiding you up. shoko made sure you didn't have any lasting injuries as geto looked over at gojo and chuckled. "now, satoru, is that really how you'd treat the only person you love who genuinely loves you back?" geto asked him, which made gojo stop in his tracks for once.

he turned around and his neutral expression curved into a slight smile. he looked at you from underneath his dark blue tinted sunglasses and walked over to you with a smirk. "fine... i suppose i got a little too cocky and kinda threw you around, but c'mon, you still love me just like i love you, right?" he asked you as shoko and geto backed away from you two, giggling and murmuring to each other as your eyes widened yet again and your mind blanked as a heat caressed your face as gojo placed his hand on your jawline.

"such a goody two shoes cutie like you with a menace like me... oh, you are going to regret being mine, i'll show you all the right ways to be living, sweetheart." he said with a slight blush enveloping his cheeks as his grin widened and his touch became much more gentle, as if his apology was wrapped in that gentle touch of his. oh boy, to love an arrogant asshole like him is both a joy and a curse.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Trying to sip, eat, and digest every single drop of fic about this woman so here's an idea for a smutty fic feel free to indulge

And this gut wrenching, toe curling, hair pulling thought popped up while I was listening to "nothing burns like the cold" by snoh aalegra that transitioned to that guitar solo in "shades of cool" by lana del ray ☝️😳

Mizu, running away from guards/bandits that are after her, swiftly dodging obstacles as she looked for you in a rush.

Walking along the pavement, humming a soft tune, you were unaware of mizus' situation, sandals crunching on the snow as you stopped by a small stall, selling trinkets that striked your interest. One of the items in particular reminded you of the swordsman.

Mizu caught sight of you fiddeling and having a chat with the stall owner, in a swift motion there she stood behind you, hand gently gripping your arm as she leaned her head beside your ear whispering in a low tone "come with me" her voice came out ragged and out of breath all while her hand lingered down to intertwine your hands.

Hastily pulling you along after bidding the owner thanks, both of you ended up in an alleyway. She tells you nothing when she grabbed your waist hoisting you up pinning you against the wall, your legs wrapped around her. You questioned her odd mannerism.

"They're looking for me right now" she scoffed, hands caressing your supple smooth legs, lips placing soft kisses on your collarbone "and I need your help just for a while—" she paused, taking her glasses off and placing them on your pretty face.

Calloused hands wandering, she continued "till those guys are off my tail" footsteps could be heard, nearing the alleyway you were in. Mizu buried their face between your neck and shoulder concealing her face all while leaving bites and kisses on you grinding her hips against yours.

Voices could be heard

"I swear he went this way"

"Animals, get a room"

"That samurai couldn't have gone far, let's move"

Aaannd the rest is on your hands, I'm getting severe brain rot because of this woman😭😭

I need to be fully awake! Cause this is beautiful

[skittishlikefromthewar]

my favorite headcanon to ponder is that as soon as they enter the Champions League - and it becomes official that this level of cardiovascular training is going to become Jamie's new longterm normal - Roy immediately bans him from running on pavement (so that he'll still have cartilage in his knees by age 60, and because no trainer ever cared enough to do that for Roy and he's gonna do better by Jamie if it kills him).

However...

--they can't limit all his running to a treadmill or track either, because that's a GREAT way to get hurt when he's on the pitch. 

Cue a hilarious montage of Jamie biking to some park, folding the bike to carry over a shoulder while running through said park, hopping back on the bike once he reaches the road, biking until he reaches a grass/dirt track along the river, running until the dirt track runs out, biking again, etc.

Cut to a shot of Roy frowning studiously because This Isn't Working Out, before he turns to Jamie and dead-serious, he asks, "Can you run the pavement on your hands?"

And Jamie is 😭😭😭 on the inside but verbally he's just "uh....yeah! Yeah sure I mean yeah no don't think so but yeah sure yeah why not I'll give it a go?"

Cut to Jamie managing seven whole haphazard steps in a handstand before, "aiyeeee..." and a close-up of Roy cringing with his fists over his mouth. 

Cut to Roy frowning studiously again. This time Jamie's got a big abrasion on his cheek. Again, deadly serious-

"Could you cartwheel the asphalt bits?"

Cut to Jamie cartwheeling over and over and over like. well, like a wheel, making good speed...

in a very much NOT straight line, until he cartwheels right into a bush.

"Well." Roy's got his studious frown, Jamie's got his scraped cheek and leaves in his hair. "I think we're out of options."

And Jamie's face falls. "Coach no. Please I can figure it out. Just need to keep trying things don't I?"

But Roy's shaking his head. 

And Jamie just looks sadder and sadder, and he starts to look a little scared. "Coach really I can just run the pavement like I used to it's f-"

"Nope. I'm calling it."

We linger on Jamie's devastated face. 

Quick cut to Jamie's torso. He's running on the road. He reaches the park. He runs through the park and reaches pavement again. He runs the pavement until he reaches the dirt track by the river. He runs the dirt track until it ends, transitioning straight onto the road once again. Scene cuts to him panting at Richmond Green once he's all done. He slowly straightens up, turning to Roy (who it's revealed bicycled the whole way with him) with the angriest, most murderous glare we've ever seen cross Jamie's face.

Roy breaks into his first grin of the entire montage. 

We finally pan down to Jamie's feet

--clad in every runner's favorite pseudo-orthopedic clown shoes. They let you run on a beautiful, cartilage-preserving cloud (edit: ASSUMING you don't immediately let your stride get sloppy, which people often do! that's important, can't believe i didn't say it initially!) and not even Jamie can make them look slick. 

*This post dedicated to my own hoka-related humiliations. They're lovely at what they're designed for but oyyyye. tbf hoka does make slightly less gigantic, less hideous models (ones that visually limit themselves to the type of loud garishness that Jamie would actually probably adore). But also tbf, you KNOW Roy would insist on Jamie cycling through the dumbest, ugliest, most embarrassing, "it's yer fuckin knees, Tartt come on!" models he could find. 

(Bonus: Practically overnight, Jamie suddenly becomes an expert in every dirt, grass, and otherwise natural running trail in all of London because as long as there's no concrete or asphalt anywhere on his run, he can go back to his normal low drop shoes.) (Edit: which, to reiterate, is a much better choice for both your joints and feet, than running pavement in hokas!)

[aangelinakii]

PICTURES OF US

in which you and tangerine share a kiss without an umbrella

character : tangerine

song : pictures of us , beabadoobee

date : 17th june 2023

warnings : swearing

note : again,, so sorry for my hiatus !! 😭😭 but here i am <3<3

red flames flickered in the soft, chilling breeze, as your thumb clicked the flint of your lighter, setting the end of tangerine's cigarette ablaze.

smoke billowed around the two of you, its expensive scent filling your lungs, a cloak keeping you warm from the nipping chill of an autumn night in london.

for the past two weeks, your fiancé had been on a mission in paris, and you'd been left in your apartment to fend for yourself. i mean, of course you had visited friends and focused on your own job and hobbies, but whenever tangerine went on longer missions it was difficult to cope. that's why tonight, with him being back from paris for only a day, he'd treated you to dinner as a way to make up for his long absence.

now, bellies filled with the warm food from your favourite restaurant, the two of you walked arm in arm down the pavement, sky pitch, street dim.

cigarette settled between the index and middle fingers of his free hand, tangerine looked down at you, his piercing blue eyes darkened in the low lighting, turned into crescents with admiration.

"i don't know how many times i've told you tonight, but you look amazing," he smiled down at you, the arm linked with yours flexing to squeeze it. "no idea how i can stay so long away from you sometimes."

a soft laugh brushed past your lips, and you used your free hand to squeeze tangerine's bicep in return, muttering a small thank you.

for a moment you were quiet, taking in tangerine's musky cologne. "yeah," you began slowly, "it's difficult when it's just a couple days, but two weeks? you're kidding."

now it was tangerine's turn to laugh, taking another toke of his cigarette.

"i know, it's insane. i missed you like crazy this time. 'specially in paris, city of love and all. i should take you one time, when i don't have a job coming up."

your lips pulled up into a wistful grin. "paris? i'd love that."

just the thought of the couple of you strolling through the heart of paris at night, the dazzling eiffel tower peeking at you through a break between two townhouses, made you nostalgic of something that hadn't even happened yet. perhaps for your honeymoon?

"do you know where you're off to next?"

tangerine shrugged in response, exhaling more rich smoke. "lemon's handling it this time. he mentioned it on our way back, but i don't know much yet. i think somewhere in south america — bolivia? argentina? don't remember."

you only hummed back, acknowledging his response, but not asking any more as it was clear not even he knew that much.

as the two of you continued to stroll down the dark pavement, the few orange street lanterns highlighting your faces. matching in sync with your footsteps, raindrops pierced the grey concrete.

a drop landed square on tangerine's forehead, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. "shit!" he groaned. "if it starts shitting it down i'm gonna ruin this suit."

"hey, hey, don't worry about your suit," you spoke up, laughing all the while, the rain around you beginning to pick up in power and speed.

you removed your arm from out of tangerine's link, and moved to stand opposite him, placing your hands on each shoulder. "it's just rain, yeah? we can take it to the dry cleaner's tomorrow."

as he looked down at you, albeit droplets of rain rolling down his face, his expression softened. "i really don't wanna ruin my suit, love," he spoke, softer this time.

"dry cleaner's," you repeated, leaning closer, hands on his shoulders pressing down tighter.

opposite you, tangerine's face scrunched up, a mixture of defeat and exasperation. "god, you're impossible." with this, he inhaled from his cigarette and tried to push down his smile.

above you, dark clouds darkened the sky, if that were even possible, and the rain picked up pace. needless to say, tangerine's suit, and your overcoat, were going to the dry cleaner's tomorrow. tangerine's brown locks, which had previously been gelled back, were now spilling down his temples, weighed down by the rain.

the cigarette in his hand was of no use at this point, and he flicked it away.

"alright, love, d'you think we can keep walking now?" he asked, eyes squinting as he tried to see through the rain.

grin on your face, although rain-stricken, you shook your head. "no, let's stay for a bit. you're not in a rush, are you?"

"to get dry? yeah, kinda."

your hands on tangerine's shoulders moved up to his neck, pulling him towards yourself even more. the distance between you was closed, lips against lips.

warmth spread between the two of you, a high contrast to the striking rain falling down from the clouds above.

tangerine's larger hands took in your waist, pulling you further into him, trying to keep himself warm.

the kiss lasted a few moments, and when you pulled away, your eyes lingered closed, and your arms wrapped around tangerine's broad frame, encapsulating the two of you into the odd sensation of a warm embrace and a cold atmosphere.

your fiancé was back. in your arms. in the rain.

"my love?" his voice a ghost in your ear. you hummed in return. "paris isn't as cold as london, d'you think we can head home now?"

eyes halved into crescents as you pull out of your embrace, you looked up at tangerine with a half-laugh. "yes, oh my god, i'm so cold."

[yes-divine-ruler]

hi! can you pls do a kai anderson smut x reader who is crazy as he is 😭

i love your writing btw!!!

Worst In Me - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

CW: depictions of violence and murder, mentions of blood, oral (f receiving), sex

Word count: 2215

"Where the fuck is Y/N, we're leaving in 5 minutes," Kai spat, his mask tucked under his arm by his side as his other reached outwards in disbelief.

"Here!" You called, descending the stairs in your own costume, mask also tucked under your arm.

"What took you so fucking long?" Kai asked, obviously annoyed.

"None of your fucking business, Divine Ruler," you spat back, pushing him by the shoulder and moving outside to get into the van with the others.

"That fucking bitch," Kai mumbled under his breath, shaking his head before following you outside.

You both pile into the van, setting your knives in your laps.

“She’ll be shooting at Collingwood Park,” Beverley takes a deep breath, “Brookfield Heights Rescue League.. some bullshit Jamboree.”

You nod, turning to Kai who has his eyes set on you already.

“What?” You bark, holding the knife up in front of you.

“Nothing,” he mutters, looking back down at the large knife in his hand as the drive commences.

The van pulls up outside the park, each of you getting out, masks on over your heads. It was hot in the costume, but it went unnoticed to you, the adrenaline pumping through your body overpowered all your senses.

“I get the first go,” you voice to Kai, as he walks behind you, his boots heavy against the walkway. He just grumbles something under his breath, and continues walking.

With Serena Belinda in sight, you, Kai and Harrison approach her, scoffing under your breath at the innocent persona she’d painted for herself.

“She’s holding a fucking dog,” you roll your eyes beneath the mask and Kai lets out a chuckle.

“What about the camera man?” Harrison asks, as you watch the fear in his eyes, as he tries to wave you all from the view of the camera.

“Kill him,” you say simply, Kai following you around to Serena’s right, as Harrison hangs back.

“Oh! It looks like we have some clowns who are desperate for air time,” Serena says, looking over at you as you approach her slowly, “uh- miss- are you excited to be apart of tomorrow’s entertainment?”

Just as Serena holds the microphone out to you, you pull the knife from behind your back, lunging forward to push the sharp point through her stomach. She screams, lunging forward and holding onto her knife wound, blood seeping onto the pavement below her.

Harrison lunges forward, stabbing Serena a second time in the neck, as she falls on her back to the floor. Kai stays by her side, as the cameraman lurches forward to try and defend Serena.

“What a fucking idiot,” you mutter under your breath, before using your bloodied knife to pierce his chest in a hard thrust.

You turn back around towards Serena and Kai, crouching down to your knees to repeatedly stab her in the chest, Kai following with his own murderous fore-comings.

“Alright let’s go,” Kai instructs, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up.

“I can get up myself,” you say, tearing your arm from Kai’s grasp, turning to wave at Harrison to follow. You all trudge back to the van, trying to shake off the excess blood on your gloves as it left a sanguinary trail behind you.

You all pile back into the van, Jack leaning over his seat to take a glance at the three of you. Beverley sits firmly in her seat, a devilishly smile across her face.

“So?” She asks, as Jack begins to pull away from the curb, taking you all back to Kai’s family home.

“What does it look like?” You ask her menacingly, stretching out your arms to show her your red-stained costume.

“She’s gone,” Kai says simply, removing his mask and shaking his hair out so it wasn’t flat against his head. You follow, removing your mask and setting it in your lap. You notice Kai gazing at you again, before he drops his head and lets out a forced cough. You knew that you’d have to talk to him about it later, his blatant staring was getting on your nerves.

Pulling up at the house and parking the van out front, as a group you retreated inside. Letting out a loud sigh, you strip from your costume in the living room, not caring if anyone saw. You weren’t conscious about your body, and you didn’t care what anyone thought.

Dropping your costume on the floor, Winter scurried to pick it up with a pair of gloves.

“Thanks Win,” you mumbled, picking up your phone in just your bra and panties and filtering through your messages.

“Hey when’s your speech Anderson?” Still soaked in blood, you padded to the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out something to eat.

“Couple of days,” he replied, stripped of his own costume and leaning against the kitchen counter in just his boxers. He didn’t care just as much as you.

Even with Serena Belinda’s blood on your hands you brought the apple to your mouth, taking a bite. Not even the blood of one of your victims provoked any care or bother from you.

“Right so, you’ve talked to Meadow about your plan?” You were too busy chewing your apple to notice Kai approaching you.

“Yes,” he said simply, before he was standing with his chest almost pushed against yours, his arms caging you in against the kitchen counter.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You let out a small laugh, as Kai’s dark eyes stared into yours.

“You, you’re my fucking problem.”

“Then why do you keep staring at me like you wanna fuck me?” You answer, dropping your apple core into the sink.

Kai sucks in an agitated breath, before he steps back.

“My room. Now.” His eyes rake over your almost bare body, soaking in the appearance of your smooth skin, covered in blood of the person you’d just savagely murdered.

“Okay,” you shrug, following him up to his room as he drags you by the wrist. You were unproblematically yourself, and although Kai despised it at times, it was also insanely hot. You understood him, you appreciated the method to his madness.

“So what do you want?” You ask, sitting on the end of his bed and crossing your legs, leaning back with the support of your outstretched arms.

Kai doesn’t wait another moment, his body lunging towards yours, his lips attacking yours in a passionate kiss. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about this once or twice during your time in the cult. Your main focus was the greater good of this country, the second, mostly on your own at bed time, your Divine Ruler.

“Kai!” You yelp, as his lips leave yours, wrapping around a small portion of skin on your neck, sucking harshly on your skin to leave a big bruise.

“I can’t tell you- how hot it is- when I watch you- do your service- for his group,” he breaths out between kisses, his big cold hands wrapping around your back and unclasping your bra.

Your breasts bounce freely from the constraints of your bra, Kai immediately taking one of your stiff peaks in his mouth and rolling his tongue around it. You let out a soft moan, his hands now at your hips, as you tangle your fingers in his sweaty blue hair.

“I was hard the whole time,” he admits, kissing down your stomach, licking at patches of blood, until he got to the waistband of your panties. Maybe that explains how quiet he was.

“Kai..” his name rolls of your tongue as you allow him to pull down your panties, exposing you wholly and completely to him. He marvels at the sight of your unclothed body, humming to himself in satisfaction.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his kisses littering your hips bones and travelling lower. Usually you’d scowl at him for being so soft, but right now, his sweet words only ignited the fire in your abdomen.

His face becomes level with your throbbing heat, as he uses this thumbs to spread your soaking folds, before dipping his tongue in to taste you. You watch as he licks a thick strip up your slit, his lips settling on your clit and sucking softly. Your face screws in pleasure, as his assault on your clit continues, before another stripe is licked back down to your entrance. His tongue delves inside you, his nose brushing your clit as he looks up to meet your hungry eyes.

“Ohhh, fuck,” you groan, lolling your head back into the bed, kneading your own breast in your hand as he continues to work his tongue on your pussy.

His finger prods at your entrance, a “please” escaping your lips, begging him to stretch you out. He does as you ask, his finger evading your warm silk walls, letting out a moan as he feels you contract around it.

“You like that?” He asks, kitten licking your clit, his finger moving at a slow, steady pace inside you.

“Yes- oh my god- yes, more,” you beg, biting your bottom lip between your teeth.

He chuckles at your eagerness before adding a second finger. He scissors his fingers, stretching you out blissfully, before curling his fingers expertly up to hit your spot of intense pleasure.

“Kai!” You call his name again, his pace fast, his tongue still steadily lapping at your engorged clit.

“Cum, cum on my fingers,” Kai encourages, before the knot in your stomach unties and your legs begin to shake under his touch. You buckle your hips up to meet his face, as he licks you through your delicious release.

Kai removes his fingers as you pant under him in a frenzied mess, leaving a soft kiss on your clit.

“That was so hot,” he breathes out, provoking a laugh from you as you lean up on your elbows.

“Didn’t know you were so good with that tongue Anderson,” you tease as he crawls over you, pulling his boxers down his legs.

“How about I show you how good I am with my cock too?” You watch as his throbbing erection slaps against his stomach, as he folds your legs up to slot between them.

“Go on then,” you smile, as he leans in and connects your lips in another kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth, as he groans, running his tip back and forth against your entrance.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, kicking a stripe from his mouth to his ear, tasting the blood that stained his face.

“You’re such a dirty whore,” he groans, pushing himself inside you as you nip at his ear lobe.

He bottoms out inside you, a lightning shock of pleasure coursing through your core as you experience the ultimate fulfilment.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Kai moans, savouring the feeling of your heated core pulse around his hard cock.

You wrap your legs around his hips, caging him in before flipping yourselves over so you were straddling him. He lets out a surprised gasp, as you take control, rising and falling on his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groans, reaching out and grabbing ahold of your breasts, his thumb flicking over your nipple. It was a heavenly sight, your naked body, blood soaked and bouncing on his dick.

He held your hips tightly in your hands, as his thrust up into you to the beat of a silent drum, his balls slapping against your skin at a rapid pace.

You bask in this moment, pleasuring your divine ruler by riding him, watching his face as it screwed in carnal desire, desperately needing to hit your deepest point with every thrust of his hips.

“That’s it, fuck I’m- I’m cumming,” you’d never seen Kai so vulnerable, withering beneath your body as he coats your internal walls with his warm seed, letting out a low moan in gratification.

You slow your movements, leaning over and resting your sweat sheen forehead against his, as you both try and catch back your breaths.

“Why are we only just doing this now?” He asks, with a small chuckle.

“Because I’m a bitch, and you’re our divine ruler,” you tease, Kai pushing you off him and crawling back on top of you.

“You do act like a bitch sometimes but, you’re the only one who’s as committed as I am,” he says honestly, “maybe you’re who should have my messiah.”

You let out a laugh, pushing him by the chest and making him fall backwards. You get up off the bed, not ignorant of his eyes as they’re pierced into the side of your head.

“I’m not having kids Kai,” you say shortly, “kids don’t belong here. With us.”

“They won’t see anything,” he gets up, now stuck on the idea, “the child will be sheltered from our movement until they’re old enough to understand.”

“I’ll think about it, now stop being so needy and annoying,” you put a hand up to stop him from coming over to you and leave his bedroom, with a blanket wrapped around your body.

“Y/N!?”

You turn to see Winter, her mouth open in shock, her eyes wide. You offer her a closed lip smile.

“You should’ve seen it coming Win, your brother is just as insane as I am.”