#you can’t just get one gel pen
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Me: haha I should wander around the school store before my next class
*20 minutes later*
Cashier: your total is $57.45
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despite many years in many art classes and having it explained to me several times by several people, I still just don’t ‘get’ colors. if I wanna use them I either got have a palette made for me, have just memorized what looks nice together, or just hope for the best as I pick out the colors. I am insanely jealous of people who just. understand them. y’all are wizards.
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beigetiger · 26 days ago
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Small rant on my part as a left-handed person, but there are so many things that can be done/taught in a right-handed or left-handed way, and so many people just…default to only teaching the righty way, and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM always makes a pikachu face when they find out that yes actually, someone here IS left-handed. I’ve had so, SO many instances of people randomly finding out I’m left-handed in conversation and then going “oh you’re left handed? You need to do X this way then, it’ll be easier” because NO IT WON’T, I’VE ONLY BEEN TAUGHT TO DO IT THE RIGHT-HANDED WAY. FUCK YOU MEAN THERES A LEFT-HANDED WAY
Also, lots of people act weirdly shocked when they figure out I’m left-handed by watching me write. So much “oh you’re left-handed? Oh my gosh :0” like left-handed people don’t make up 11% of the population
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and my personal favorite:
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i love getting validation as a lefty but also learning about new fun ways it continues to suck
#sorry small rant#people also sometimes react in a weird way to my having blue eyes? cuz I live in a place where few people have brown eyes#and it’s so weirdly common to just get weirdly close to me and stare into my eyes for like five seconds before commenting that they’re blue#like. yeah. yeah they are#also the first time I started archery the guy was like hey. are you left handed btw. because if so I need to teach you a different way#and that is the ONLY TIME that has happened to me#in taekwondo someone found out I was left handed and told me I had to do something on the opposite hand? like why would I do that#you’ve been teaching the whole class to do this right-handed for years. I can’t do it left-handed#is this oppression? absolutely not this is just me being annoyed at small things#pisses me off more than people casually dehumanizing me for being trans because at least that’s FUNNY#also oh my god the ballpoint pen thing. yeah that explains some stuff#and the MOTHERFUCKING GEL PENS. took me so long to be even slightly willing to write with a pen instead of a pencil as a kid#because every single damn fucking hellish time. it would smudge what I was writing and I felt like an idiot#I LOATHED the feeling. but now I have pens that don’t smudge and everything is ok 🥰#reading this is also making me realize why I hate writing in spiral bound notebooks and prefer to tear the page out to write on it#the ruler thing is ALSO real#so. so much school related stuff that caused me frustration#luckily none of my teachers minded me being left handed. I’m not sure any ever noticed actually#the non-smudging pens def have something to do with it#I also used to refuse to draw with pens for fear of them smudging#I REALLY liked writing and drawing as a kid but I always did it in pencil#I am still ranting.#I will stop now#nvm found the pen is attached to the wrong side one. yeah I also had that#was in library club for a few years and the time logging sheet had a pen that was secured down.#I had to angle the binder in a really weird way in order to be able to write#ok NOW I’m done
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markleessodalite · 8 days ago
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Loving You in Little Ways: NCT Dream
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headcanon: how do the dreamies express their love for you in those small, almost unnoticed ways?
warnings: none :D its all fluffy baby
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Mark:
Your humor becomes his.
Not only does he start stealing your jokes to use on his own friends, he also finds humor in things that might not have amused him before, just because they make you giggle.
Mark is already someone who thinks everything is funny, so how lucky is he to meet you, someone who finds humor in every situation?
There is rarely a time you two are together that you don’t have him in fits, and he thinks everyone should be able to experience the pure laughter and joy that you bring him.
(although his friends would argue that the jokes are not nearly as funny when he’s the one delivering them)
Renjun:
He gets you everything you need before you ask. Even before you realize you need it.
If he’s getting out of the shower and notices your moisturizer is a little less than half full, he’s stopping by the store to get you more tomorrow.
If you have the perfect pair of emerald earrings to wear with your dress tonight, but no necklace to match, he’s taking you to the jewelry store before the function.
All your special vitamins, hair care products, your favorite coffee, that one very specific brand of gel pens you use exclusively– whatever it is, Renjun just has a talent for noticing when you need it, and he’s the one to get it for you.
Jeno:
Little touches, anytime, anywhere.
Jeno may not always be super showy when it comes to expressing his love for you. He’s not a grand gestures kind of guy.
But there’s no doubt in your mind how he feels about you when his hands are on you 24/7.
Whether he’s lacing his fingers with yours while cuddled on the couch, pulling on the belt loop of your jeans to pull you in for a quick kiss, or tugging on the sleeve of your coat trying to get your attention off your phone and onto him.
You rarely go for more than a few minutes without feeling his fingers tracing along your body, searching for any little space to settle themselves in.
Haechan:
He wants to invite you to everything.
Sometimes dating Hyuck feels like dating all of his friends, too. If the group is planning to do something together, Hyuck’s first question is whether he can invite you or not.
Sure, it was a little awkward when you were sat on a bench watching them all play basketball, even though you were the only gf there, and you have absolutely no interest in basketball.
But Hyuck just can’t stand the idea of going out and having fun without you! Especially if its something thats not going to be fun– if he has errands to run, he needs you there with him to keep him sane.
If Donghyuck is going literally anywhere, there’s a 99% chance he’s begging you to go with him.
Jaemin:
Jaemin doesn’t love in little ways.
Everything with him is big, and grand, and romantic– and it doesn’t take much for small moments to become big.
One minute you’re cuddling on the couch, the next minute he’s twirling you around, copying the dancers on the tv.
One minute you’re sharing a soda in the kitchen, the next minute he’s cooking an extravagant meal for you to share at a candlelit table.
Jaemin has such a talent for making a random weeknight feel like the pinnacle of a romantic holiday, for turning microscopic sparks into fireworks, that you’re sure he somehow plans every single moment of your time together beforehand.
In reality, Jaemin just loves you, so truly and dearly, that he doesn’t know how to show it in little ways.
Chenle:
He listens. Particularly, he listens in moments when he’d usually be talking.
Chenle loves to talk, to discuss, to gossip, to yap on and on and on, and its certainly no different around you.
But in the quieter moments, when its just the two of you, he’s not talking or discussing or gossiping. He’s hanging on your every word, listening to you as if your story about an almost-forgotten high school memory is sacred scripture.
He takes everything you say to heart, which is how you discovered he’s a little more sensitive than you initially thought (and now you know not to joke about those few little things that make him tick).
He listens to you, drinking in every string of poetry that falls from your lips, and he remembers, ingraining every detail into his own brain until he knows you better than you know yourself.
Jisung:
He stares. He just kinda… stares at you.
You thought it was weird at first, especially when you would catch him and he’d immediately look away as if he’d just broken some unspoken rule.
Eventually you realized this staring was more a symptom of Jisung not totally knowing how to show you he loves you.
He’ll notice your hands close to each other while walking at night, and he’ll think about how he wants to hold it. Then he’ll think about whether he should hold it or not. Maybe you wouldn’t want him to, or maybe if he reaches for it you’ll pull away at the same time and it’ll be awkward…
and that’s when you notice him looking down at you a little too long, leaving you wondering what he’s thinking.
Of course, him being a little timid about affection isn’t the only reason he stares at you. He also finds you quite pretty– utterly captivating, actually, which is the main reason why he can’t stop looking at you.
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luveline · 5 months ago
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jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today
thank you for requesting! 1.3k
Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home. 
He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words. 
“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head. 
“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together. 
“Can I have a hug?” 
Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change. 
“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. 
She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away. 
But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you. 
“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up. 
Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks. 
You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.” 
You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on. 
Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest. 
Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.) 
Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?” 
“Cool.” 
Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery. 
“You’re beautiful,” he says. 
“So are you.” 
“You want some help getting up?” he asks. 
You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently. 
He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open. 
“We’re napping?” Junie asks. 
“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.” 
“I’m not tired,” Junie says. 
“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.” 
“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you. 
“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading. 
You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world. 
There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it. 
Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”
You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.
He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt. 
Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck. 
“Eddie?” she asks tiredly. 
“What, rockstar?” 
“Goodnight.” 
He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?” 
“No. We can sleep on you.” 
“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers. 
She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself. 
He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm? 
He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes. 
“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head. 
It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur. 
He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.
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anakinstwinklebunny · 14 days ago
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ANAKIN SKYWALKER HEADCANONS
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Author's note: this may be.. different
Anakin Skywalker who has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. He is the type to remember something from years ago in painstaking detail—like the exact color of your dress the first time he saw you or a specific phrase you once said that made him laugh—but completely forget why he walked into a room five seconds ago.
He’d be so frustrated with himself, too:
«I can rebuild an entire podracer from memory, but I can’t remember where I put my damn lightsaber five minutes ago!»
If you would just tease him about it, his lips would twist into a pout;
“Well, at least I remembered the anniversary of our first kiss.” (Cue him smugly crossing his arms while you roll your eyes.)
Anakin Skywalker who has a diary that he writes in with a glittery gel pen;
He’d sit cross-legged on his bed in the quarters, hunched over the journal with the sparkly pen in hand, writing furiously:
«Mission Log: Obi-Wan still doesn’t get it. He says I’m reckless, but who saved his ass again today? Oh, right, me. Also, y/n smiled at me when I said goodbye, and I’m not saying it means anything, but maybe it does. Anyway, I need a new purple pen—this one’s running out of glitter ink.»
Anakin Skywalker's diary would be filled with doodles of podracers, little hearts around your name, and the occasional rant about sand;
Humming softly, he bent over the page, scrawling your name in his bold, messy handwriting. He frowned, mumbling under his breath about his uneven letters before shrugging it off. Next to your name, he started to doodle little hearts, as if each colorful heart was the show of his affection. Pink, silver, gold—he used every glittery color he had, filling the margin with love-struck decorations.
He paused, tapping the pen against his lips thoughtfully before scribbling, «You’re my favorite everything», right under your name. The ink shimmered in the dim light, catching his eye in a way that made him grin.
He felt ridiculous, like some love-struck teenager, but he didn’t care. This was for you, even if you’d never see it. A quiet, glittery tribute to the person who made the galaxy feel a little less dark.
A soft knock startled him, and his head snapped up, his heart skipping when your voice came through the door.
“Anakin? You still awake?”
Scrambling, he slapped the diary shut and stuffed it under his pillow, cheeks burning as he tried to change his expression into something casual. “Uh, yeah! Just… meditating!”
When the door slid open and you stepped in, his breath hitched. You were in your sleepwear, hair slightly tousled, and that soft smile on your face made him melt. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Meditating, huh? With glitter on your fingers?”
He looked down, cursing under his breath at the sparkling pink smudge across his thumb. “Uh… yeah, it’s a new technique.”
Anakin Skywalker who has a sketchbook, where he draws A LOT of things. Podraces, you, ships, speeders, random people on the street
Anakin Skywalker who once brought you flowers after a mission;
He trudged through the Jedi Temple’s halls, boots barely making a sound on the polished floor as he fidgets with the bouquet in his hands. Well, bouquet was a generous term. It was more of a sorry-looking cluster of flowers, their once-vibrant petals now limp and pale, some barely clinging to their stems. A petal fluttered to the ground just as he took another step, and he stopped mid-step to glare at it, like he could will it back into place.
He groaned softly, running a hand through his messy curls, smearing a streak of dirt across his cheek. This had seemed like a good idea earlier. Why does everything he does fall apart before it even gets to you? His pout deepened as he plucked out the most shriveled flower, tossing it to the side with a defeated sigh.
Finally, he reached your chambers. Standing outside the door, he took a deep breath, smoothing down his tunic with his free hand and rearranging the flowers one last time. Maybe if he held them at just the right angle, you wouldn’t notice the sorry state they were in.
The door slid open, and there you were, rubbing sleep from your eyes, your expression softening the second you saw him.
“Ani?” you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.
His voice was unusually sheepish as he held out the flowers, eyes darting everywhere but your face.
“I, uh… I picked these for you. On my mission. But, um… they didn’t exactly survive the wait.”
You looked down at the wilted bouquet in his calloused hands, a few petals already scattered on the floor at his boots.
“They’re perfect,” you said softly, reaching for the flowers.
He blinked, pout fading into something almost hopeful. “You don’t have to say that. They look terrible—”
You cut him off with a kiss, lips pressing to his tenderly, hands resting on his chest. He stiffened for half a second before melting into you, his arms wrapping around your waist, the bouquet forgotten as it dangled by his side.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him again for good measure.
He huffed, but his cheeks were pink, his free hand gently stroking your back. “I just… wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Even while I was out there. I saw them and thought you’d like them.”
“I love them,” you assured him, cradling his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over the dirt smudges on his cheek. “And I love you for bringing them to me, even if it meant walking through the Temple like this in the middle of the night.”
Anakin Skywalker who sneaked out with you to lower levels of coruscant;
As you passed by a flower stall, the vibrant colors caught his attention. He paused, eyes scanning the rows of flowers, before reaching out and plucking two purple blooms—one light lavender, the other a deep, rich violet.
“Perfect,” he murmured to himself, flashing you a smile as he walked back to you, holding the flowers gently.
“Here,” he tucked the lighter lavender flower behind your ear. Fingers lingered on your skin just for a moment, a little touch, a little enough to make your heart skip a beat. You giggled softly, cheeks flushing.
He grinned mischievously, then slid the darker flower into the breast pocket of his jacket. "For me," voice low, teasing.
You stared at him, smile widening as the warmth spread through you. “Now, that’s a perfect match,” you whispered, giggling.
“Mm-hmm,” the grin on his face stretched even wider. You could see the mischief dancing in his eyes, the way his lips curved up as if to say, «this is my favorite moment ever»
“Got it,” you said with a laugh, pressing your hands together like you were taking a picture in the air.
Anakin's face softened for a moment, and then a gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding his hands in front of him like he was about to snap a photo, just like you did. He mimicked your pose, grinning widely “Got it,” he repeated with a smirk.
Anakin Skywalker who as a young baby used to give you flowers from Jedi temple garden;
“This is for you!” he’d chirp, holding the flower up as if it were the most precious gift in the galaxy.
You’d kneel down to his level, heart melting into a puddle at how shyly he’d avert his gaze, cheeks tinged pink. “For me? It’s beautiful, Ani.”
His smile widened, bright enough to rival with the Coruscant sun. “I thought it’d look pretty on you,” he’d mumble before stepping closer, his small fingers fumbling to tuck it behind your ear.
Affection swelled in your chest as his fingers brushed against your skin, before he’d pull back to inspect his handiwork with thoughtful expression. “There,” he’d declare softly, looking utterly pleased with himself.
Your little arms would wrap tightly around his neck, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ani. You’re my favorite Jedi, you know that?”
“You’re my favorite everything.”
Anakin Skywalker who would eat most of your food he'd find in your chambers
Anakin Skywalker who smells like vanilla
Anakin Skywalker who loves when you stroke his back in the morning while he's still sleepy and just nuzzling to his pillow;
Soft, golden glow of the sunrise gently filtered through the curtains in your chambers , casting a gentle illumination across the side of the room. Anakin laid sprawled across the bed, body entangled in sheets. His breathing was slow and steady, tousled curls sticking to his forehead in a mix of shadows cast by the night and the faint morning light. You, propped up on one arm, tenderly stroked his back, fingertips gliding over his skin while time to time pressing gentle kisses to his bare shoulder. The sensation stirred his body slightly, and he shifted beneath your touch, acting like a contented puppy who curled up to enjoy the affection.
his words laced with a lazy, sleepy drawl. "Don’t stop," he murmured, a soft groan escaping his lips with his eyes remaining closed. With a gentle smile, you continued your gentle caresses, tracing small circles across his back, watching him shift and sigh while his muscles relaxed under your touch.
But as you took your hand away to change your position, he stirred once more, rolling onto his side to face you. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded with the remnants of sleep, a soft, pleading expression in his tone. "C'mon... more... please," his hand reaching out towards you, pulling you closer, fingers grazing along the sheets. You let out a soft chuckle, but without hesitation, drew closer to him and your hand shot out to find itself in his curls. With delicate fingers, you ran them through the soft strands, lightly massaging his scalp, causing a small hitch in his breath.
Anakin Skywalker who read tons of books, watched a lot of videos about gardening all to make you proud that he could seed tulips and make them grow
Anakin Skywalker who secretly sips on your coffee, always muttering that «sharing is caring»
Anakin Skywalker who makes «your mom» jokes
Anakin Skywalker who constantly hacks their stats in every video game he plays
Anakin Skywalker who uses the word «fuck» like a comma.
Anakin Skywalker who definitely has a roblox account and even though he's a softie, he bullies some kids there;
He logs in with the most ridiculous username, something like DarthSlayer69, and his avatar is over-the-top—dark cape, glowing red eyes, and a lightsaber accessory. He’s spent way too much time customizing it because, of course, he has to look intimidating.
And then? He enters some innocent game like Adopt Me! or Brookhaven and immediately starts causing mayhem.
"Get off my property, kid," he types in the chat, standing in front of a house he didn’t even buy.
In Tower of Hell, he’d purposely push people off platforms, then type: "Too slow. Guess you weren’t strong enough."
If anyone dared to clap back, he’d go full into fighting back; "Do you know who I am? I’ve fought in wars. You’re just a noob with bad Wi-Fi."
When you walk into the room while he’s cackling at his antics, you took one look at the screen, and roll your eyes.
"Anakin, are you bullying children again?"
"No, angel, I’m teaching them a valuable lesson." He'd say too smugly
Anakin Skywalker who uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner yet still has the softest hair ever, which obviously makes you mad because you have to use tons of products to make your hair look decent.
Anakin Skywalker who fixes your lightsaber too often;
Anakin leaned back against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched you sheepishly place your lightsaber in front of him. His expression was equal parts of amused and exasperated
"Again?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.
You shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "It... broke."
"It broke," he repeated, tone dripping with mock disbelief. He picked up the hilt, turning it over in his hands like inspecting some troublesome droid. "No, sweetheart, you broke it. What did you do this time? Smash it against a rock? Use it to pry open a door?"
"I didn’t!" you protested, immediately crossing your arms in self-defense. "I was fighting, and—"
"And you lost control," he finished for you, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You know, lightsabers are meant for precision. Not..." He gestured vaguely, as if mimicking you wildly flailing the weapon around.
Your face flushed at that, and you jabbed a finger at him. "Are you going to fix it or just stand there and tease me all day, Master Skywalker?"
At the sound of his full title, he grinned, as if it alone was enough to satisfy his ego. Setting the hilt down on the bench, he reached for his tools. "Oh, I’ll fix it. Like I always do. But you know..." He shot you a sly glance. Uh, oh.."If you keep this up, I’m going to start charging you."
"Charging me?" You blinked, incredulous. "With what? We don’t even use credits in the Order!"
He leaned in closer, smirk deepening. "Not credits, sweetheart. Favors." his eyes roamed down and up your body
Your stomach did a little flip "Favors?"
He nodded, picking up a small tool and starting to carefully disassemble the damaged saber. "Mm-hmm. Maybe you take over my chores for a week. Or you could cook dinner for once instead of ordering ration packs. Or..." He set the tool down and leaned in again, voice dropping to a near-whisper, eyes darting down to your lips. "You could just kiss me every time you break it."
you scoffed "That’s a ridiculous system," you muttered, but you didn’t pull away when he leaned even closer
"Is it?" he murmured, breath warm against your skin. "Seems fair to me. I put in the work, and I get a little reward."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. "Fine," you relented, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his in a soft, quick peck, and you felt him smile against you.
When you finally pulled back, he looked far too pleased with himself.
"See?" tone smug. "Much better payment than credits."
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avis-writeshq · 9 months ago
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: established relationship warnings: mentions of assault, tiny bar fight, mentions of alcohol consumption a/n: i wasn't really sure how much i liked this, but i hope you guys do! i wanted to post something because i won't be online much for finals :( wc: 1.16k
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You meant it when you offered to get the drinks for the table. You offer to do the first round: four rum and cokes, whiskey (neat, because Aaron would rather get his money’s worth) and whatever bright pink concoction Penelope ordered written neatly in purple glittery gel pen on an old receipt. Rossi’s glass of wine that he ordered costs double the entire order, and Spencer orders an Arnold Palmer. 
“Did you want to start a tab?” The bartender asks kindly, her pretty green eyes framed by dark brown hair clipped by a barrette. 
“Oh! Um, sure.” You smile, gesturing to the booth where the rest of the team were sitting at. “You can put it down for that table.”
She nods, tapping a few buttons on her POS system before looking back up at you. “There’s already a card for that table. Under… Aaron Hotchner?”
Your brows lift in surprise at her words, a laugh of disbelief leaving your lips. “Of course he did. That’s fine, thank you.”
You return carrying a tray of far too many drinks, setting them down with a soft sigh of relief. Everyone takes their respective drinks while Aaron pulls you into his side, his thigh pressing against yours as he lets his lips linger on the side of your head. 
“Thank you for that,” he murmurs lowly into your ear, squeezing at the flesh of your waist. His other hand swirls his whisky around the glass. “Did you carry them alright?”
“Mm. I’ll have to go back to get Penny’s drink. The lady at the bar said it’ll be in a couple minutes or so because the order was so specific.” You’re smiling at him despite your original annoyance. “I meant it when I said that I would treat everyone to the first round of drinks.”
“I meant it when I said that I would take care of you,” he responds simply. “The drinks they ordered was more than just a pretty penny.”
From the corner of your eye you spot the bartender waving you over, and you laugh before  pressing a soft kiss against Aaron’s face. “I’ll be right back, handsome.”
You really did mean it when you said that you would be right back. With a napkin wrapped around the cocktail glass, you turn around to make your way back to the table when a voice catches your attention. 
“Pretty drink for a pretty girl,” the man comments, and it takes a second for it to register in your mind. 
“Oh. Thank you, it’s for my friend and she is really pretty.” You smile politely. Wrong move.
“Not as pretty as you, I’m sure,” he continues, his eyes gleaming in your direction. You don’t really appreciate the way he thinks that his words are a proper compliment. “Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart. The name’s Colby.”
“That’s alright, I really do need to get back to my group.” You take a hesitant step away but he takes another step forward. 
This is dangerous, how close this stranger is. Anxiety wells in your throat and your stomach drops with nerves. 
“Just one drink,” Colby insists, inching closer. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be such a stick in the mud.”
“I don’t need one,” you say, searching for  your voice. “Excuse me…”
Colby scowls, taking a step forward as he tries to prevent your escape. His fingers graze against your side dangerously close to the waistband of your pants and you can’t help but jolt, the glass slipping from your grasp and shattering against the cold tile of the bar floor. Your heart plummets to your stomach as the man grunts in frustration. 
“Look at what you did,” he snaps, shaking the drink off his hands. His eyes are dangerous as he glares at you, his hand lunching up and out, aiming directly for your arm. “You little–”
“That is enough.”
You almost cry out in relief when you see Aaron step in front of you, effectively shielding you away from the assault. He’s big and tall, and though you do not see him upset very often, it is even rarer for you to see him angry and mean. 
Aaron stretches to his full height, his eyes narrowed and his gaze dark. He stares down this man– this pathetic excuse of a human being– with the same hatred and disgust as he does with the unsubs he faces on the daily. 
“Oi, back off, would ya?” Colby sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. Aaron has half the mind to think that he would start stomping around like a petulant child. 
For once, Aaron wastes no time digging into his suit pocket and pulling out his badge, a grim look on his face. “FBI. If you make one more comment or so much as glance in her direction again, I will be arresting you and taking you in for custody before you can breathe your next breath. Do you understand me?”
The silence is almost deafening and Aaron finds his patience withering with every passing second. 
“I said, do you understand me?”
“Fuck you,” Colby snaps, drunkenly lunging with his fists clenched to clock Aaron in the face.
Aaron resists the urge to roll his eyes as he handcuffs Colby’s arms behind his back, dragging him out of the bar. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court…”
Everything after that is a blur. The bar awards you and the rest of the team free drinks and food for the remainder of your stay, and Colby is taken off to the nearest police precinct in record time. Regardless of all the delicious food, your appetite no longer exists as you curl into Aaron’s side, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. 
“Are you alright?” He murmurs, his lips grazing lightly against your forehead. “I’m sorry that something like that happened. You didn’t deserve to go through that.”
“You didn’t deserve to almost be punched in the face,” You respond back, a wry smile spreading across your lips.
He laughs, squeezing your shoulder. “He was punching air, sweetheart. I don’t really know where he was aiming, but there was no way that he was going to actually hit me.”
Aaron watches you, the way you turn away from him and pick at your fingers. He exhales after a moment, dipping his head to meet your woeful gaze. “None of this–” he gestures to where one of the staff members is carefully cleaning up the broken glass– “is your fault. I hope you understand that. What happened was not your fault and you shouldn’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”
His words make you smile a little and you can’t help but press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Yeah. You’re lovely, Aaron, you know that?”
“I could say the same for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder again. “You’re the loveliest.”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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885 notes · View notes
prettylilyanime · 26 days ago
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Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 03
˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader
˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.
˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder
˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next
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The days, which soon turned into weeks after your assignment with Bakugou, proved to be wildly uneventful. Nothing notable happened. Life went back to its regular routine—mundane and predictable.
Absolutely boring!
That one day with Bakugou seemed to be the most social interaction you’d had in ages. Now, as you sit in class, your attention drifts between the lecture and the pink glitter gel pen in your hand.
By “notes,” you mean the intricate little doodles that fill the edges of your notebook—hearts, flowers, and a tiny, picturesque village. It’s the ideal town in your imagination, where everything is sweet, sparkly, and cozy. A place where you’re surrounded by kind people who actually enjoy your company.
You allow yourself a small smile as you add tiny puffs of clouds above the village rooftops.
The sharp ring of the bell jolts you out of your daydream, pulling you back to reality. You glance down at your doodles, a little disappointed that the moment of escape is over.
With a sigh, you carefully wave your notebook to let the gel ink dry before snapping it shut and beginning to pack up.
It’s Friday, and the long weekend looms ahead like a quiet storm—four whole days of solitude in your dorm. You could already picture it, and have books picked out to accompany you for the next couple of days of bed rot.
“I’m so ready to get back in that house and on the beach!” Sero grins, stretching his arms behind his head.
He’s chatting animatedly with Kirishima, who sits a few rows ahead, his red hair gleaming under the classroom lights.
Your ears perk up at the mention of a house and a beach, despite yourself. Casually, you glance toward the small group that has gathered near the door, their chatter growing livelier with each passing second.
Wait… are they going back to their vacation house?
You tell yourself to mind your own business. It’s none of your concern. They’re friends—close friends—and you aren’t exactly even close to being part of that circle. Still, you can’t help the sinking feeling in your chest as you quietly collect your color-assorted pens and highlighters, neatly placing them into their respective cases.
Pathetically, you find yourself wishing you could join them.
“It’ll be cool going with the rest of the class this time around,” Kirishima adds, his voice cheerful.
You freeze. The entire class is going? You hadn’t heard a single word about this.
Heat creeps up your neck and into your face. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed.
There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about! And yet… you do. That familiar self-consciousness tugs at you, making you wish you could just shrink into your seat and disappear.
With a quiet inhale, you force yourself to glance up at the group again. By now, it’s practically the entire class gathering at the door—Midoriya and his large group of friends have joined, their laughter filling the room as they chatter excitedly about their upcoming trip.
The atmosphere feels warm, buzzing with excitement.
You bite your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the slight clench of your hands around your pencil case betrays you. Of course they’re all going. Of course no one thought to mention it to me…
You hate how easy it is to spiral like this, how quickly your mind twists the situation into something personal.
You aren’t close with most of them—it’s not like they intentionally left you out. You know it’s your own doing after all, if only you had been able to come out of your shell at all in the last three years.
Don’t think about it. Just finish packing and leave quietly. That’s the plan. Stay out of the way. Stay invisible.
But even as you tell yourself that, you can’t shake the ache settling in your chest.
Grabbing your designer tote, you sling it over your shoulder, the little beaded bag charms jingling softly with the motion. The sound is faint, drowned out by the chatter and laughter of your classmates.
You keep your head down, your polished loafers clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor as you rush past them. Nobody notices—and that's fine.
It’s fine, you repeat to yourself firmly, trying to will away the sting of exclusion. 
Maybe I’ll just go home for the weekend! You picture your family’s estate: the sprawling backyard, the crystal-clear pool with its very own waterfall, the warm sun filtering through the glass walls of the sunroom.
Who needs a cramped little beach house when you have all that?
You huff under your breath, quickening your pace toward the dorms.
 Who needs them, anyway?
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“Oh, so nobody’s gonna be home this week?” you ask, frowning as you press your phone against your ear. You sit cross-legged in the middle of your king-sized bed, surrounded by baby blue plush sheets that feel soft but offer little comfort.
After class has ended today, you decided on calling Hajime to take you back home, but now that plan seems to be falling apart.
Your long nails tap absently against your thighs, the steady rhythm betraying your rising anxiety.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Y/N,” Hajime’s familiar voice replies with a hint of apology. “Since your mother is working overseas, she gave the entire staff the weekend off.”
Great, you think, trying not to let disappointment seep into your tone.
You glance around your room, the walls lined with soft pastel décor and shelves filled with books and trinkets. It’s all beautiful, yet somehow, it feels painfully empty.
“Why don’t you and your friends do something fun over the weekend? You’re all so young—you shouldn’t spend your last year cooped up at home,” Hajime suggests warmly. His words are well-meaning, but they hit a little too close to home.
You swallow hard, forcing a smile despite knowing he can’t see you.
“R-right, yeah. You’re right. I’ll, um, do something with them,” you say quickly, not wanting him to worry. Hajime has been your family’s chauffeur for as long as you can remember.
Though he’s not related to you by blood, he’s been a constant in your life—a grounding presence, someone you could always rely on. He’s more family than anyone else, save perhaps Aizawa in a strange, distant way.
“Well, that sounds wonderful, Miss Y/N,” Hajime says, his tone cheerful. “I hope you and your friends have a fantastic weekend. Take care!”
“Thanks, Hajime. You too.”
With that, the call ends, leaving you alone in the silence of your room. The absence of his voice only seems to amplify the quiet, and you can’t help but sulk, lowering your head.
You glance toward the window, where the late afternoon sun casts a warm glow across your floor, but it doesn’t lift your spirits.
You can already picture it: nothing but quiet halls, empty common rooms, and an endless loop of boredom.
How absolutely depressing…
You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. The plush sheets cushion your fall, wrapping around you like a cloud, but even their softness can’t chase away the heaviness in your chest. You stare up at the ceiling, eyes tracing invisible patterns across its smooth surface.
This is miserable already!
You close your eyes, trying to shut out the nagging feelings.
Then, your ears perk up. Muffled voices filter through the door, faint but unmistakable—the sound of suitcases being wheeled along the tiled floor, followed by bursts of laughter.
Mina’s bright, melodic laugh rings out, carried by the excited energy of the group. You catch bits of Ochako and Midoriya’s animated chatter, and even Todoroki’s quieter voice as they pass by.
For a moment, you think about stepping out—maybe to say goodbye or at least catch a glimpse of the fun they’re all about to have.
But before you can even gather the courage to move, the voices fade.
And then, it’s silent.
You sit up slowly, the emptiness wrapping around you like a thick, suffocating fog. The quiet feels denser now, pressing in on you from all sides. Even the low hum of the air conditioning feels distant, like white noise against the weight of your thoughts.
Wrapping your arms around your knees, you pull them close to your chest. You try to yourself that it doesn’t matter, that it’s just one weekend, and by Monday, everything will be back to normal. But the truth is undeniable.
Being alone like this… hurts.
Still, you force yourself to stand off the bed, brushing off the gloom clinging to your skin.
Okay, fine. I’ll make the best of it.
You stride to your desk, plop down in the chair, and flip open your laptop. The screen’s soft glow casts shadows across your face as you open tab after tab—designer websites filled with offensively overpriced items practically begging to be bought.
Your fingers move on autopilot, clicking add to cart on anything that doesn’t make you cringe.
Quilted purses in every shade imaginable, heels you don’t need, sneakers you’ll probably wear once, makeup you already own in five different colors, jewelry that sparkles a little too brightly—everything. The digital shopping spree feels like a twisted coping mechanism, each click a futile attempt to fill the gnawing feeling inside.
Your mom’s black card sits on your desk, a familiar enabler. No budget, no limits, no hesitation. And to really nail in the fuck you feeling, you click express shipping on everything. Extra cost.
Ugh!
You lean back in your chair, arms crossed as you stare blankly at the screen. The total sits there, bold and unapologetic, but instead of feeling satisfied, there’s just… nothing. Even after blowing enough money to fund a small country, nothing feels better.
Fingers idly tapping the trackpad, you aimlessly click through more pages.
Shoes. Dresses. Bags. You have it all. You’ve always had it all. If anything, you own more than anyone could ever need, yet none of it cools down the feeling of being left out.
With a frustrated groan, you push back from the desk and fling yourself onto your bed, face buried in the softness of your Italian sheets. The faint scent of lavender clings to the fabric, usually comforting, but tonight it feels useless.
What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?
The thought sneaks up on you, sharp and bitter, and you hate it for existing. You don’t want to care! You don’t want to feel so left out. But you do! And no matter how hard you try, you can’t push it away.
Why didn’t they think of you?!
You close your eyes tightly, Maybe if you just fall asleep, things will feel better when you wake up!
Yeah, that’s it. By tomorrow, your new things will arrive, and you can do a little haul for yourself!
Those pink diamond earrings you got would look adorable with the miniskirt you ordered. Unboxing everything, matching outfits, feeling cute again.
It’ll be better tomorrow, You’re sure!
Maybe it’s just some weird hormonal surge messing with your head. That’s what you tell yourself as you crawl under the sheets, pulling them up to your chin, shutting your eyes against the silence.
Stupid class trip. If only you had the address of that beach house, you’d buy it just to ruin everyone’s day. Damn it all.
194 notes · View notes
alien-magnolia · 9 months ago
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I Need Someone Older
Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!
Word count: 3.1k
Don’t like, don’t read!!
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May 5, 2007
7:40 pm
Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.
All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.
You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.
You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.
“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!
You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.
“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.
“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.
“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”
So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.
“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.
Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.
“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.
“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”
“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.
You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”
You were more than happy to give it to him.
You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.
Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.
“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.
“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.
He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.
You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.
You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.
“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.
He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.
“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’
With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.
“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.
He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.
“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.
The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.
The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.
His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.
His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.
His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.
His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.
“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.
“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.
“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.
All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!
“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.
A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.
“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.
You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.
His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.
His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!
“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.
Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.
He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.
Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz
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jesuistrestriste · 2 months ago
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Imagine puppy art going through his ‘teething’ phase and just chewing on everything maybe even other.. things. It’s not just the oral fixation he swears!!!! 😞
ohh gosh poor babe:( he’s not trying to be a nuisance, but he just keeps getting the urge to gnaw on things around the apartment !
he chews on your tee shirts absentmindedly when you leave him at home alone and can’t correct his misbehavior. and he chews on your little trinkets laying around too; your brightly colored gel pens, your sonny angel figurines, your jewelry.
your panties.
normally, as soon as you’re out the door for the day, he’ll sneak one pair of your briefly worn panties from the laundry basket and shove his nose into it. inhaling deeply, breathing in the smell of your core from the evening before, while he scampers up onto the bed and sits down. he pulls it from his face and then flips the piece of fabric until the crotch section of it is face-up. he’ll curl over it all guiltily, knowing you’d be tugging on his collar and telling him to stop if you were here. and then he licks a fat stripe up the center, rolling the faint taste of you—still lingering there— around on his tongue. drool fills his palate quickly, and he swallows that down too.
it usually doesn’t take much longer for him to ball the piece of lingerie up and then shove it into his mouth as if he’s gagging himself (like you sometimes do when he gets bitey or loud). he chews on it like it’s a piece of the world’s finest and rarest fruit, or the most deliciously sweet taffy— soaking it with his sticky spit while he moans and pushes his hand down into his tented boxers. your name is repeatedly whimpered out as he humps his flushed cock into his grasp, but its muffled through all of the fabric.
once’s he’s finished with it, cum-covered palm and all, he’ll toss it back into the hamper and pretend like nothing ever happened.
one thing’s for sure: he won’t ever tell you. he’d hate to hear you say the words he knows you would spit at him if you found out.
‘bad boy.’
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years ago
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Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗
I've done a version of this with Mindy
Warnings: nudity, teasing
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’
‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.
‘’I can’t use blue.’’
‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’
‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’
Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.
‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’
‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’
Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’
You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?
‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.
A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’
Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’
He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.
Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.
You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.
‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.
‘’Let’s take a break.’’
Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.
A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.
You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…
‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.
Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.
Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.
‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.
You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.
He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.
You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’’ 
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz
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b14augrana · 7 months ago
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Nenita
You plan a surprise for Irene’s birthday
Irene Paredes x teen!reader
Part of the Scrubber universe
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Warnings: pure fluff, no warnings needed!
A/N: in honour of irene’s birthday, i decided to write a little fic. there will be a new section in the scrubber masterlist for all the blurbs about cute moments with scrubber and the girls! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼
Your calendar was very significant. You marked off your birthday, upcoming matches, Christmas, but most importantly… all your big sisters’ birthdays. Each of their birthdays were marked on your calendar in pink glittery gel pen.
You were giddy the night before their birthdays, probably even more excited than they were. Tonight, it was Irene’s big day that you were looking forward to as you laid on your bed stomach-first, filling in a card you made yourself.
Birthdays were a big deal for you because it was probably the most appropriate time to tell someone just how much you loved them.
Your captain was a very special woman. She was your second mother, mentor, and friend, all in one. Everyone needed an Irene in their life, but unfortunately there was just one, and not-so-unfortunately, she ended up with you and your team.
Those were the words you wrote on her card before sealing it in the envelope. With a smile, you placed it on top of the neatly wrapped gift stashed in your closet… that was piled on top of what looked like a dozen more.
The morning of the 4th of July, you were up before Irene. Carefully and quietly, without hitting the walls with your tower of gifts, you walked out of your bedroom with them and placed them on the coffee table. You placed your card in front of them and scrambled to the fridge to pull out the cake you made for her.
You weren’t a professional baker, but you knew how to make simple things like a cake. Irene loved red velvet cake, so when you stacked it all together with a homemade cream cheese frosting you had worked all week on (almost) perfecting, the end product was a birthday cake. You decorated it with the help of Fridolina, using sprinkles and cake toppers she had chosen, then two big ‘3’ candles right in the middle.
You were proud of your cake, even if it wasn’t the best. You figured that it would be nice to test out your baking skills instead of buying a red velvet cake that already cost you an arm and a leg without extra decorations.
Your culinary creations didn’t stop there. Next on the menu was french toast that you dusted with powdered sugar, drizzled with maple syrup, and garnished with strawberries and blueberries. It made you feel like a proper chef, and once you finished constructing your meal, you looked at it in pride. It almost looked good enough to go in your stomach.
“Irene,” you whispered, nudging her bedroom door open as you carried her breakfast and a cup of coffee into her room, on a tray. Your grin was hardly containable.
She rolled over, looking at you through squinted eyes. Her expression brightened and her eyes widened when she realised what was happening, and she sat up while a smile flashed across her face.
“Meu nenita, moltes gràcies,” she replied, her smile widening as you placed the tray on her lap and put the coffee on her bedside table.
“After you eat, come to the living room. I have to give you something!” you chimed, skipping out of the room and leaving the woman to eat her food.
When she emerged out of her room, you were standing in front of your gift tower with your arms behind your back and a beaming smile on your face. You moved to the side, gesturing to your gifts. “Surprise! Feliz cumple, hermana!”
Irene gasped quietly, placing a hand on her chest as she looked at you in surprise. Before even paying another thought to her gifts, she pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you gently. “Nenita, you didn’t have to. How did you get all of this– no, how did you hide all of this?”
“I can’t tell you that,” you responded, “I’ll have to do it again next year. Open the card!”
You picked up the envelope and handed it to her, almost bouncing off the walls in excitement. She tore it open carefully and pulled out the card, taking a minute to read it before lowering it and looking at you with glossy eyes.
‘Dear Irene,
From the very first day I played with you in Barça, I’ve seen you as a second mother to me, away from my home. Not only do you take care of me and let me live under your roof, but you inspire me and teach me to be better than what I am capable of, on and off the pitch. I am lucky to spend my days with you; a beautiful, loving, and talented person. Being under your guidance and having you by my side during every game has made me the player I am today and I will always be grateful for having you in my life now, and hopefully forever.
Feliz cumpleaños, hermana! T'estimo per sempre.’
You were the one to initiate the hug as you wrapped your arms around her. She was quick to react and do the same, embracing you affectionately. “T’estimo, meu hermanita,” she mumbled.
Once you had pulled away, your grin hadn’t faltered one bit. “When all of the girls get here, we can have cake!”
“What do you mean, all of the girls?” Irene questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Y’know, all the girls. Alexia, Mapi, Frido, Ingrid– who else.. oh, Caro, Marta, Aitana, Lucy and Ona,” you answered, “Now go on, go get ready. The icing is going to start melting!”
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mattyriddlesbitch · 8 months ago
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Fruit Roll Ups
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Warnings: Cussing, kissing, gender neutral terms, that's really it?
Another fic based on another Waterparks song
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I got some Fruit By The Foot if you wanna come over
Yea, you can wrap your arms so tight
Right 'round my shoulders
In case you're scared of the movies I pick
I'm sorry in advance for that shit
Mattheo and you always had a very flirty relationship. At least, on his end. Complimenting you, hitting on you, telling you horrible pickup lines. He loved when you smiled or laughed at it. He’d even loved it if you rolled your eyes. He actually liked you, though. He had no idea if you liked him back or just liked his flirting.
He finally got the courage to ask you out after watching you with your friends in the courtyard while he was with friends on the other side. Theo and Blaise picked up on him staring at you and started teasing him, making fun of him for pining over you but never doing anything.
“Are you ever gonna ask them out?” Theo smiled at him.
“Yes. I’ll do it when I’m ready.” Mattheo frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets with a sigh, still not looking away from you.
“Is the staring helping? Blaise added on the other side of Mattheo.
“Can you shut up? I’m taking this at my own pace.” Mattheo said, shoving Blaise while Theo and Blaise laughed.
“Just ask them. They’re either willing to give you a chance and say ‘yes’ or they don’t and say ‘no’. It won’t matter when you ask.” Blaise said.
“It’s not like everyone can’t see you guys eye-fucking in class anyways.” Theo added.
“Shut it.” Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his hair before he found himself starting to walk over to you.
When you talk
It's in cursive to me
And it's nicer than anything I'd believe
About me
It's like that shit was written in gel pen
And I love those
“Hey, (Y/N).” Mattheo’s voice said from behind you.
You turn around to see him standing behind you, hands in his pockets, hair a little messy but still cute. “Hey, Mattheo.” You smiled at him.
He smiled and looked down, shifting on his feet before looking back up at you. If only you knew how much your voice affected him. “I think I remember you saying you liked horror movies, right?”
“Yeah. Why?” You nodded.
“Uh, I have some that I haven’t watched yet and all my friends are too much of pussies to watch them with me. I was wondering if you wanted to come to my dorm to watch them one night.” He said, eyes locked on yours. He seemed nervous, which was very unusual for him. “I have a bunch of those little chocolate frogs you like too. I don’t think I’ll ever finish them. I have way too many.”
“Yeah, sure. That sounds fun. Maybe this weekend.” You said with a smile, which seemed to ease him.
“Sweet. Uh, I’ll text you later about the details.” He said, his own smile making its way back on his face before he started backing away, sending you a wink before turning around, taking a deep breath when he knew you wouldn’t notice.
If you want to see me
Acting so desperately
So desperately
All you gotta do is stop texting me
Just to flex on me
He texted you about the movie night a few hours later, not wanting to seem too eager or desperate, just trying to confirm when you’d want to have it. Except you didn’t reply. He didn’t mind the first 10 minutes. After that, he started thinking about it. Maybe he worded it wrong? 20 minutes passed and he kept checking his phone. Did he offend you? 1 hour passed. Maybe you never actually wanted to have a movie night with him.
He left his dorm to find Theo. Theo was good when it came to getting with people.
“I don’t get it. I just asked them when they wanted to have a movie night.” Mattheo said, pacing the room as Theo looked at the text on his phone.
“It’s been an hour.” Theo said, laying on his bed, looking back at Mattheo with a blank face.
“Exactly! An hour and they never replied!” Mattheo said, gesturing his hands wildly.
“They could be studying.” Enzo said, sprawled on an armchair in Theo’s dorm with a book in his lap.
“They’re probably just busy.” Theo tossed Mattheo’s phone on the bed.
It's true
I'm a little bitch for you now
I don't wanna say it way too loud
But I'm a little bitch for you now
His phone suddenly lit up with a notification and Mattheo nearly jumped to grab it, falling to his knees beside the bed as he checked his phone. He smiled when he saw your name and quickly unlocked his phone to read the text you sent him.
“It’s fine. They were napping.” Mattheo said to the two boys, who honestly couldn’t really care less, but found amusement in how desperate Mattheo was to get a text from you.
“See. It was nothing.” Theo said, picking up his own phone to go back to scrolling through it. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I wasn’t worried.” Mattheo said quickly, standing back up as he typed out a text to you.
“Right.” Theo said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced over at Enzo, who shared a look with him.
“Whipped.” Enzo fake-coughed into his hand, getting a laugh from Theo before dodging a shoe Mattheo threw at him and laughing himself.
“I’m not whipped.”
I bought these really sick lights if you wanna come over
They tried to scam me twice
But look
They both can change colors
Like that
I don't wanna leave my house
'Cause in here I'm the ruler
With my refrigerator
Full of Pacific Cooler
But for you I'd brave all the traffic outside
The way you brave all the bullshit I hold inside
You knocked on the door to his dorm at the agreed time, greeted by Mattheo opening his door only seconds later, smiling at you. You both agreed to just wearing comfy clothes, and he looked so good in his sweats and a tee-shirt, his hair was slightly wet from a shower not too long ago. He couldn’t help the flutter in his heart seeing you out of your school uniform. 
“Hey, come in.” He said, moving to let you come in.
You stepped inside his dorm, looking around.
“I got a bunch of snacks and drinks. I remember you told me about this muggle drink you had as a kid so I found some. Wanted to try it with you.” He said, closing the door behind you, watching you nervously as you looked around his dorm. He spent hours deep cleaning it, but if you asked, he was always this clean.
“Thanks. You didn’t need to do all that.” You said and turned around to smile at him.
Your smile. He nearly felt his heart stop. He nearly blurted out ‘I’d do anything for you’ but stopped himself. “Hey, look at this.” He said, trying to turn your attention off of him and calm himself down as he grabbed a remote off his desk and changed the lights in his room from the warm yellow to green, then to red, then blue, then purple.
Oh it's true
(Ooo)
I'm a little bitch for you now
I'm a little bitch
Oh my God
Did I say that too loud?
It's true
I'm a little bitch for you now
I don't wanna say it way too loud
But I'm a little bitch for you now
You both laid down in his bed, watching the horror movies on his tv, snacks scattered between you. His heart was pounding, but it wasn’t from the movie. If you paid enough attention, you could feel his leg bouncing from nerves. He made funny commentary, sounding relaxed. His eyes bounced between you and the tv, making sure you were comfortable and the movie wasn’t bothering you. 
He finally turned his head to look at you fully, watching the light from the tv dance across your face, looking at the little details on your face.
“You okay?” You asked, looking back at him.
“Yeah, just…” He trailed off, not taking his eyes off of you.
He reached a hand over to cup your cheek, leaning closer until his lips hovered over yours. He stayed there for a moment, just looking in your eyes before connecting his lips with yours softly. He really didn’t even know what he was doing. His body took over before his mind could catch up. His mind finally did catch up when he felt you kiss him back. He only parted from you when he needed to breathe, and even then, he was only inches from your face, a huge grin breaking across his.
If you want to see me
Acting so desperately
(I could freestyle you a verse)
So desperately
(Or maybe a hook)
All you gotta do is stop texting me
(I bought these paintings to impress you)
(Did it work?)
Just to flex on me
Theo woke up to his dorm door being thrown open by Mattheo.
“What the fuck do you want?” Theo groaned, rolling over to check the time on his phone.
“They didn’t text back again. You think I fucked up with the kiss?” Mattheo asked, coming over to the side of his bed.
“It is 2 IN THE MORNING! THEY’RE SLEEPING! LIKE I WAS!” Theo yelled, angry that Mattheo woke him up for something so stupid.
Mattheo frowned at him for a moment. “So you don’t think I fucked up with the kiss?”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” Theo yelled and threw a pillow at him.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0
@schaebickel tagging you since you liked my last one :)
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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calliesmemes · 11 months ago
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EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”
“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”
“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”
“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”
“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”
“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”
“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”
“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”
“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”
“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”
“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”
“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”
“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”
“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”
“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”
“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”
“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”
“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”
“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”
“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”
“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”
“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”
“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”
“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”
“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”
“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”
“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”
“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”
“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”
“   I was born for shock value. ”
“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”
“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”
“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”
“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”
“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”
“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”
“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”
“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”
“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”
“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”
“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”
“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”
“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”
“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”
“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”
“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”
“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”
“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”
“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”
“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”
“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”
“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”
“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”
“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”
“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”
“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”
“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”
“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”
“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”
“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”
“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”
“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”
“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”
“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”
“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”
“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”
“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”
“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”
“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”
“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”
“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”
“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”
“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”
“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”
“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”
“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”
“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”
“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”
“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”
“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”
“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”
“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”
“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”
“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”
“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”
“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”
“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”
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emotionalsupport-ljh · 4 months ago
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Crushing!Jihoon
Fluff - Woozi x gn!reader
I have a crush on that boy, but what if he had a crush? 🤔
Word Count: 1k
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ────୨ৎ──── ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Jihoon cannot look you in the eyes. He usually is good about eye contact because he is very polite, but if he catches your eyes, he will quickly avert his gaze anywhere else. He still likes to talk to you, but he gets overwhelmed and lost in his thoughts if he’s looking straight into your eyes. Sometimes, he tries to look at your nose, so it will at least seem like he’s looking at you, but he still finds it too cute when you wrinkle it to laugh, so he ends up looking away anyway.
Jihoon rambles. A simple “Hello” will turn into him oversharing about his weekend, favorite show, or work. He cannot stop and your patient smile only encourages him to keep going. He eventually will realize and let a sentence trail off as his face turns red. He only stops being embarrassed when you reply with the same energy. You both end up yapping as much as possible, going from topic to topic almost randomly. Anyone listening in on the conversation would get lost because it’s like you have your own language together.
Jihoon can’t flirt. At all. It doesn’t come naturally to him. If he tries to be cute, he just gets embarrassed. He’s also afraid of being seen as a creep. You lightly flirt with him and he doesn’t notice. If you turn it up a little, he either misinterprets it or gets really awkward. He claims to be a direct person or the type to just be straight-forward and tell you, but, in reality, he will take his secret crush to the grave.
Literally everyone notices when Jihoon is crushing. He doesn’t realize how obvious he is when every other topic of conversation is you or what you like or what’s going on in your life. The other members joke about it quietly, but they make sure he doesn’t know or else it would end their favorite entertainment. They find it super fun to watch him get flustered around you then turn around like nothing happened. They even try to get him closer to you or leave you two alone together, just to eavesdrop or peek into the room to witness him freak out a little.
Jihoon writes a ton of love songs. They probably won’t see the light of day and some of them are just sentences in his notes app, but every beautiful melody he thinks of is inspired by you in some way (and some of the horny ones too). Fans would say that these types of songs were written with a pink glitter gel pen which is only true in vibes. He isn’t kicking his feet and writing in twirly handwriting, but his heart is whether he likes it or not.
Jihoon pretends to be nonchalant but remembers super specific things about you. Like, he’ll hand you your favorite obscure candy from your childhood that you told him about one time four months ago, and say something like “don’t make a big deal out of it” or “i just saw this and remembered”. In reality, it took him forever to find it and he wasn’t even sure if it was discontinued or not. He was about to look up a recipe for it to make it from scratch, but he found it, ordered it, then waited like a kid on Christmas for the package to arrive. He gives maximum effort for small details and pretends like it’s nothing.
It’s a lot easier to get Jihoon to open up than you think. He claims that he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his emotions when they are heavy, and he doesn’t always want to share his feelings so outwardly, but if you ask him like twice, he’ll tell you all about it. You can visibly see his shoulders un-tense when he tells you about his struggles. He trusts you and can’t keep anything from you. He’s also just bad at lying, so you can tell something is up with him almost immediately.
Jihoon doesn’t like physical touch BUT ONLY when he isn’t expecting it. He has to initiate the touching for it to be okay. You once tried to place your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off instinctively. Later, he held onto your arm absent-mindedly. You learn to give him his space and wait for him to start anything physical. Once he does, you can reciprocate easily. He likes to put his arm behind you while sitting on the couch. You lean into him and he doesn’t flinch or move or anything. He touches you more often than anyone else which makes his crush on you so painfully obvious.
Jihoon has a Libra Venus in his astrology chart. From the moment he realized he liked you, he immediately envisioned your entire future together complete with four versions of a wedding, a life with kids, a life without kids, what your cat’s names would be, and every time he could tell the world that a song was dedicated to you. He thinks about different ways he could ask you on a date like he’s Doctor Strange looking into possible realities. It was easy for him to get a crush on you, and he can’t help but imagine it when he closes his eyes.
Jihoon is oblivious. You obviously like him and everyone can see it except for him. You always smile when he talks or laugh at his stupid jokes. You’re always caught up on his favorite anime (which you enjoy as well) just so that when he finally does watch them, you are ready to talk about it at a moment’s notice. You call him every night to make sure he’s wrapping up at work, and you offer to buy him food if he hasn’t eaten. You are one of the only reasons he takes a day off or goes outside to have fun when he’s not working. You’re always ready with a plan to hang out together. You want to be with him all the time. You stick to him like glue. And he just thinks that you're his really good friend. He can’t imagine that his crush likes him right back.
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yngtort · 1 year ago
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— double or nothin
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chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin
NSFW ★
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xfem!reader • poly relationship • double!pen mdni — in which chan and bin convinces you to try something new with them .
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you’re kinky.
as fuck, actually.
You’d would literally anything your boyfriends, changbin and chan, wanted to do. From common foreplay to outside adventures. You were down for the count. but there was one thing you just wouldn’t— no— couldn’t do.
Anal.
Even the word makes you cringe and doing that act was definitely out of the question. Both of your boyfriends had came to you on multiple occasions, asking to do it. They wanted something knew, other than the taking turns fucking your cunt or one of them nuzzling into your throat.
You questioned if they would even know what they were doing— to which Changbin replied : “of course, I’m an ass connoisseur.”
an eyeroll and scoff is how you ended the conversation. Your ass had a beaming exit sign on it and you intended on keep it that way.
the topic of Anal still came up but it was subtle. Little jokes saying you were a wuss started to get under your skin. So much to the point where you asked your friends about it.
“It’s not that bad, girl.” One of them said with a shrug, “if he knows what he’s doing you should be good.”
He’s a connoisseur apparently.
you friend goes on to explain the whole process. Spilling about how her partner had her “reaching for the gods above” or something like that.
once again, you try to shake the idea out of your head. The key word here is try.
But the curiosity was gnawing at your brain, fucking around with your senses. You became hyper aware of your boyfriends touches. you shy away when Chris cups one of your cheeks and when bin slaps it, you get mad.
the boys noticed your behavior and they used it as a chance to make you cave. Day by day, they grew even more handsy. rubbing it, squeezing it, patting it—until you just can’t take it anymore.
Now you’re all oiled up as you ease yourself down on Chris’s shaft, cunt savoring each inch. “F-fuck..” you spluttered, mouth hung open as you chase after your breaths.
“there you go, sweet girl, that’s it.” Chris praises. His hands kneading the dips in your hips.
“Look at you two,” changbin chimes in, as he settles himself behind you. “Havin fun without me.”
“Jealous much?” the older asks.
changbin rolls his eyes, gently pushing you down until your chest hits Chris’s. “not at all.” Bin says, hands getting a fist full of your ass. Meanwhile, his eyes were full of the sight of your cunt filled with the others girth.
“Liar.” “Am not.”
You interrupt their yapping with a whine. “Guys, please.” you beg, hips circling against Chris with need. They both chuckle at your eagerness.
“Alright, alright.” behind you, you can hear the a bottle of lube being popped open. Changbin lathers his fingers, along with your hole, with the Icy gel. goosebumps cover your skin from the coldness and you inadvertently clench.
“Relax, babe.” Chris coaxes through a grunt, hands soothingly rubbing your back. You hum, burying your face into his neck, sucking on it to get your mind off of things.
changbin takes that as a cue to continue. He slips a finger into your surprisingly accepting hole. His eyebrows raise as he easily adds two more, making you moan into Chris’s neck.
“you’re taking this too well.” changbin says, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve been…”
“Y-you’re too big for me not to prepare ahead of time.” you admit and chris laughs under you, calling you cute.
“Yea? How much preparation are we talkin?”
“enough for you to fuck me already.”
changbin snickers, pulling out his fingers and replacing them with the head of his dick. he grunts as your hole wraps around him. “Still so fuckin tight.”
The stretch has your mouth open. long moans spilling from your lips like water as you’re filled with the second girth of the day.
“Good girl, you’re doing well.” Chris whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he slowly starts thrusting up into your cunt.
Meanwhile bin did the opposite.
“Slut,” he degraded, gifting your ass with a sharp slap before fucking you like his life depended on it. “To think you were acting like you didn’t want this. I knew a whore like you would.”
As each of them pump into you, your brain melts. Unable to comprehend a single thing except for the two men that you were sandwiched between.
Shit, It was hard to even do that.
When changbin would pull out, chris would slide back in. You couldn’t get a break as you withered away in their hold.
“Channie, fuck, binnie” was as about the only words you could form.
“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” Chris asks in an almost tantalizing voice.
“I don’t think it’s enough, actually.” changbin said before giving the older a look. You obviously don’t notice it, too busy whining and crying into your boyfriend’s chest.
It’s till Chris’s pace starts matching bins, when you realize that they had put too much thought into this. You could feel both of them rub together, somewhere in your guts, and it had you…
What did your friend say?
Reaching for the gods above.
you clench both holes, signaling to your partners that you’re close to cuming and they don’t stop working their way through you. Hips slapping against each-other as they lead you to your high.
“That’s it baby, let it all go.” you unravel at Chris’s words, body trembling as you cling on to him desperately. He pulls you into a calming kiss, tongue slipping its way into your hot cavern and swallowing up every sob.
After you finished, the boys continued to bottom out. Thrust gradually getting sloppy and losing rhythm until they’re twitching for release.
“Gonna fill both your holes” Bin rasps from behind, fingers digging into your skin as he Rails you. “fill ya’ till ya’ pop, yea?”
“Mhm, been s’good, need it.” You babble out,
“then we’ll give it to you, bub.” Chris says and he delivers right after.
it just takes a few more thrusts till their both pouring their seed into you. your whole body shutters, warmth engulfing you in a white cloud.
Changbin slowly pulls out, watching as his cum seeps from your hole and onto Chris’s thighs. “Fuck, that was..”
“amazing.” Chris finishes breathlessly, “right, y/n?” He calls, but is only answered with your soft snores.
“Poor girl, we wore her out. Let her sleep.” Changbin chuckled, kissing the back of your neck.
“But bin,”
“Yea?”
“Im still inside.”
:(
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NNI : this was supposed to be in kinkmas but now that I completely botched that, I’m posting it for fun— as gift and part of my apology for leaving yall high and dry😞
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Tinytags (comment to be added) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @panjakes @foxinnie8 @inniescandy-01
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