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#untill i’m just loopy on laughter
soft-mafia · 5 months
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Buggy Headcanons (NSFW + SFW)
warnings: mentions of female reader, the NSFW isn’t separated from the SFW it’s kind of mixed in
a/n: I wanted to do some more Buggy headcanons to get my creative juices flowing loool
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• The man stress eats(and drinks), when he’s frustrated over another encounter with straw hat, or a failed treasure hunt, he’ll sit on his throne or in his quarters and shovel food into his mouth. Whenever you’re sitting on his lap he can accidentally get a whole lot of crumbs on you.
• He’ll have days when all he wants to do is fuck. He’ll have sex with you for hours, until the room smelled like sweat and raw sex. His hairy torso pressed up against your back while he’s holding you down, grunting like a bull as he cums in you for what feels like the millionth time. Of course he takes breaks after every round, giving himself a breather while he either holds you close to him, or plays with your sopping pussy.
• The most annoying thing about sleeping with him at night is when he’s spooning you, he sometimes snores right into your ear. And it’s loud, especially when he gets choked on his own mucus and goes into a loud coughing fit.
• As soon as he gets into his quarters after a long day of pillaging and pirating— his clothes as off. As soon as that door closes he’s already in his underwear flopped onto the bed.
• He always makes sure that you’re eating. Even when you’re full or not hungry he’ll shove some food into your mouth or hand feed you a fruit or something. And he’d always do it at the worst times too, whenever you’re talking to one of his pirates about something, or if you’re talking to him, he’ll his hold a piece of food up to your mouth like you’re an animal(or his floating hand will just show up beside you) and he’ll expect you to take it, and if you don’t he’ll just shove it into your face again.
• Buggy loves grabbing your ass, especially when you least expect it, he’ll pull you into a firm embrace, and when you think he’s just being all lovey dovey— your eyes go wide when you feel his strong hands gripping your ass, your face going red as you feel his deep laughter rumble in his chest.
• He goes crazy over chin scratches, will literally go loopy when you scritch him.
• It’s hard getting all of his thick cock to properly fit into your mouth in one go, so he takes his time easing your lips around him. His muscled thighs twitching in his pants, grunts escaping him as he guides you through it. “Yeah.. that’s it, all the way down that pretty throat.” He chuckles gravely behind grit teeth, “You’d think you’d get used to it by now!” He laughs. Gently holding your head while watching your cheeks puff out with his cock is one of his favorite things about blowjobs.
• Gets jealous and protective whenever he’s around someone he sees as a threat to your relationship. It’s kind of a similar situation to his nose, where he’s so insecure he thinks everybody is out to steal you from him. You’re with him while he’s talking to somebody he sees as stronger and more attractive than he is(impossible), they’re speaking to him about something but he’s not listening to because he’s thinking about them stealing you and you running off with them. Buggy growls and randomly blurts out, “HANDS OFF MY GIRL, SHE’S MINE!” Which leads you, and the person in question confused.
• There was an incident where Mr. 3 sarcastically asked Buggy if he had to choose between Y/n and the one piece, Buggy just stood there with his mouth open, looking between you and 3, genuinely torn between the two options. You were rightfully pissed and didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. While you were giving him the silent treatment, he was an emotional rollercoaster, going from whining, to straight up shouting at you. “Come on baby it was hypotheticalllll!!” “STOP BEING DRAMATIC!!” “At least look at me when I’m talking to you!!!” “LOOK AT ME Y/N!!!”
• Sometimes he does things to try and get you to laugh, and every time he does something that unintentionally makes a fool out of himself, and usually it always gets you to break and burst out into laughter.
• Buggy is by no means a 5 star chef but one time he tried to do something nice and surprise you with breakfast in bed. The typical bacon and egg smiley face breakfast. It was so adorable that you didn’t even complain about the burnt to a crisp, tasteless bacon.
• He lets you deal with his hair because it’s too much of a hassle for him, you have the honor of washing it, deep conditioning it, brushing all of the knots out of his hair(with the plus of him shouting and complaining at you during the entire process), and styling it into his hat.
• Buggy loves neck kisses, as if his neck isn’t just begging to be kissed. He’s a sucker for when you hold his jaw and lean in, then gently brush your lips over his thick, muscled neck before pressing a soft kiss to it, it makes him shiver and blush every time.
• You’re the only one who he has ever let touch his nose It’s a privilege you get from being his. He obviously doesn’t like it, and he never lets it go as far as a typical kiss or nose boop, he’ll turn away to grumble and frown about it, but it always leaves him flustered every time. It gets him to shut up as well, it’s like an off button, if you’re having a heated discussion with him and you know you’re right— just boop the snoot and he backs down.
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no-phrogs-in-hats · 10 months
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Just a question- would you be willing to write for Andy from The Old Guard or nah.
And for the request I am begging anything platonic with Lady Lesso x Never!student!reader because I just love these sm.
Perhaps idk it's winter and the reader's dormmates 'accidentally' lock her outside on a balcony and Lady Lesso comes to save the day yay. Just mother mothering uno.
A/N: Hi! I do not write for Andy. I'm so sorry! But, I hope you enjoy this<333
A Cup of Tea and a Bit of Kindness
Lady Lesso x Platonic!Never!student!reader
Warnings: Bullying, Lesso being motherly
You hated being a Never.
When your parents found out, they were elated. Their darling child was following in their footsteps. They couldn’t be happier. 
But, here you are, in the dead of winter, locked outside in the courtyard of the School for Evil after your classmates decided to play a cruel prank on you.
At lunch, through the chaos of laughter and mockery of the Evers, you arrived at your seat to find a scented envelope on the seared tablecloth. You opened it and looked upon the loopy cursive writing of the Ever you had a massive crush on.
‘I know it’s not allowed, but I was thinking we could meet at the Nevers’ courtyard at ten. Come alone.’
Butterflies filled your chest. They wanted to talk. They actually wanted to talk. The day couldn’t have gone by slower, and you even got in trouble in a couple of classes for zoning out. 
When it was ten minutes to ten, you giggled away with your dormmates as they made sure you looked your best. 
“Okay,” you breathed. “Wish me luck!”
You hurried through the castle, praying to the gods above that no wolf guards would stumble upon you. When you got to the door that led to the courtyard, you rushed out with a smile, only for it to drop when you heard giggling behind you and the sound of a lock clicking. 
Tears started to fall and you could see puffs of your breath in the frigid air as you ran over to the door. 
“This isn’t funny!” you shouted. “Let me back in! Come on, guys!”
You watched as they ran away laughing and sank to the ground. Within an hour, you were shivering, teeth chattering and fingers numb. 
“You shouldn’t be out here.”
A voice cut through the harsh winter air and you looked up. Lady Lesso towered over you and you quickly got to your feet. “Um…Lady Lesso…I’m sorry–I’m–some classmates locked me out and–”
Lesso listened to your explanation (“I know this was partially my fault, but it’s still an awful thing to do!”)  before ushering you inside. “Enough of your rambling, let’s go.”
Your stomach churned as you thought about the possibility of what could await you in detention. Rumors had spread throughout both schools at what the doom room contained. Multiple students had been subjected to it and you had no desire to experience it. But, a wave of relief washed over you when you completely bypassed the doom room. 
“Where are we going?” you asked.
Lesso ignored the question, instead leading you through the castle and down a set of dark and eerie stairs. Every possible outcome raced through your head and none of them were good.
The both of you ended in a dark room until Lesso raised her hand and directed her pointer finger at a candle, lighting each one in the room. The kitchens of the school were lit in front of you along with a fire in the hearth. 
As you stood there, Lesso walked over to the hearth and pulled up a chair before going over to a sink and filling a kettle with water. She started a fire in the wood-burning stove and set it down, getting a cup and tea bag from a cabinet.
She glanced your way and sighed. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to take a seat?”
Wordlessly, you walked to the seat that was in front of the hearth and sat down. Your skin prickled at the feeling of the heat radiating from the fire in front of you. 
An Awkward silence filled the room and Lesso came over with the cup of tea she prepared for you, taking it as she manifested a blanket out of thin air and handed it to you.
“Um…I hope you don’t mind me asking,” you began, “but…why are you doing this? You don’t exactly seem like the kind of…well…caring sort of person.”
Lesso pursed her lips and pulled up her own chair. “I won’t lie. You remind me of myself–just a bit. The same thing happened to me. Not the exact same situation with a crush on an Ever, but still.”
“Oh,” you muttered, taking a sip of the tea. “Well, thank you.”
You never thought Lesso was one to be caring. Her sharp tongue had given the impression that she was cold-hearted and cared for no one but herself. But, at this moment, you saw her in a different light–as if maternal nature came natural to her, but she purposefully pushed it down.
“Who were they?” Lesso asked.
“What?”
She sighed. “The classmates. Who were they?”
You thought back to the previous hour and tried to remember their faces before listing off the ones you could remember. The group had been relentlessly bullying you ever since you arrived at the school. 
Perhaps detention with Lesso would turn their actions around.
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abiiors · 6 months
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could u write something about pampering ross? like full on doing skincare on him, doing some type of hair treatment that he didn’t know he had to do now that has long hair and maybe trying to convince him to let u paint his nails stuff like that :)
ROSS LET ME PAINT YOUR NAILS I BEG!!! also this is fully inspired by iilwy just so you know hehe // mentions of weed
wc: 800
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“and so this,” ross points at a tiny bottle of clay mask in front of you, “this is to…?”
the helplessness in his voice makes you giggle slightly. sunday afternoon pamper sessions aren’t new to you—getting out of your everything shower each week and sitting in front of the dresser to do your detailed skincare is something you look forward to quite a lot. 
but ross somehow always looks at all the bottles and jars littered on the dresser and walks away. in his defense today, he is a bit zooted, being clingy in general and watching you as you do one step of your skincare after the other, asking loads of questions. 
“it’s cooling, feels really good! wanna try?” you offer, picking up the bottle and opening it all while he stares at you and it, intently. 
ross shrugs. “only if you put it on me.”
excitement fills you at the thought of sharing this with him. your own cute little date night. so you move, about to scoot your chair close to him but he clicks his tongue in protest. “no, c’mere!” 
he pats his lap looking at you hopefully with big eyes, pupils blown wide—probably from the weed but also because he hasn’t stopped staring at you for the last ten minutes. 
“right then,” you hide a smile, “on your lap it is.”
his arms wrap around your waist as soon as you settle on his lap, jar in one hand and a brush in the other. and ross hums, absolutely content. 
“so what this does…” you start with applying it on his cheek, trying not to get too much of it on his beard all while blabbing on about what the clay mask does. his eyes follow your movement, roaming all over your face as you concentrate on putting on an even layer of it on his face. 
“and there’s aloe in it, which feels so nice—you’re not listening to a word i’m saying are you?”
his eyes widen slightly and you fail at stifling another giggle. 
“well,” even through the thin layer of clay, you can see the way his cheeks go pink, “i was listening to you i promise! you looked so cute just now, i got a bit… a bit distracted.”
with each protest, his arms tighten around you until you’re biting your lip trying to stifle your laughter because of how sheepish he looks. “oh just now? i don’t look cute all the time?”
“no that’s not… you do! i promise!” 
another giggle from you and he’s narrowing his eyes. “you’re taking the piss!”
it’s the last straw that has you gasping with laughter, almost getting teary-eyed in the process until he cracks a smile too. “you’re a menace,” he accuses but keeps looking at you with the same wide eyes and slightly loopy smile. 
“and now the mask stays on for ten minutes,” you instruct, about to get off his lap to put it on your face but that only has him holding onto you tighter, protesting. 
“no, where are you going?!”
“need to put it on my face too, babe.” before you’re even done answering, he’s taking the jar and the brush out of your hands, scooping up some of the mask just the way you had. 
in moments, you feel the cool clay on your face, making you flutter your eyes shut. sitting there getting pampered feels so absolutely amazing that you make no move to get off him even after he’s done. not like he’s complaining. 
but eventually the mask hardens and there’s only so much time you have before it gets itchy and uncomfortable. so you coax him to the bathroom, making sure both of you get all of it off and patting your face dry while going back to the bedroom. 
“what’s next?” he asks, flopping onto the bed, once again ready to watch you at work. 
“mmm, i was thinking of painting my nails,” you smile at him somewhat coyly, fluttering your eyelashes, giving him your best puppy eyes. “join me? you can pick the colour too.”
you expect him to grumble or just outright say no, to your absolute surprise, he just nods instantly. the weed’s working more in your favour that you thought…
“yeah?”
“whatever you want, baby,” he answers, sitting up when you place your nail varnish collection in front of him. one by one he riffles through it, picking up colours and putting them down, keeping some aside that grab his eye. 
“you’d seriously let me paint your nails?” you ask once again just in case, just a bit astonished. 
“would let you do whatever you want baby,” he mumbles, “as long as it makes you happy!”
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halfghostwriter · 1 year
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(Saw a few posts about Giant!Danny, as well as this post by @blackfoxsposts , thought it’d be fun to create a disaster)
Danny, for the most part, thought he was handling being kidnapped by assassins (ninjas? Ninja assassins?) pretty well. Not sure why they took him, but hey, it’s not like it’s much worse than being kidnapped by Vlad. Maybe Vlad or one of his rogues decided to outsource for a change. The only thing he was really worried about was upsetting his new friend Damian, since they had agreed to meet today, but Danny missed the meeting time one account of being. Y’know. Kidnapped.
In his thoughts, he didn’t notice the fact he was being dragged towards a mysteriously ectoplasm-like pool until he was already eyebrow deep in it. In his panic, he wound up swallowing a massive amount of the liquid. As he was pulled back out, he started to feel… weird… a kinda nice weird, though… he licked his lips, savoring the delicious flavor of the pools… and flung himself backwards, out of the hands of the people pulling him out, and straight back into the flavor pit.
He got about three massive gulps in before he was pulled out again.
There were people talking around him, or maybe they were yelling— it was hard to hear over the sound of his own bubbly laughter. When he caught his breath, he did hear something that sounded like “why would you do that,” to which he responded
“Cuz it’s tashtyyy! And makesh me feel… makesh me feel weird… like good weird… kinda hot though… oh, wait, I can fiksh that!”
And Danny did just that, by turning into Phantom. Sure, his ghost half’s a little bit bigger, but this place is so open and airy, they must have people of this size all the time.
“Ta- *hic* -daaaaaaa!”
Oh wow, he never noticed how cute and small people look when he’s like this! Though, he probably wouldn’t have had the chance to notice. Lately he had only been transforming in the ghost zone, since he could use his powers just fine in his huma— oh. Right. Haha whoops, forgot about that. Ah well, he already transformed, and he liked how humans looked like this, he’s having too much fun to stop now. Wait, why are they running away?
“Hm? Wheresh you goin?”
He reached towards the one who had been taking the most earlier, only to have him slice Danny’s finger with something pointy, while screeching “STAY BACK, PIT DEMON!”
“Owwww…. why’d’ya do that for…? Thatsh was sho rude…” He poked the man in the chest with his claw, accidentally pushing him to the ground. Before he could retract his hand, he felt something small and sharp hit his cheek.
“Stand down. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
Danny turned to his right, and saw… some sort of black blob… man, his vision was loopy…
“Well yeah, but he’sh, he’sh the one, who who shtabbed me, I wash jusht ashkin… a queshtion.” Danny leaned towards the black blob, squinting his eyes while trying to get a better look… he could sort of make out two pointy ears on top of it… maybe some sort of cape…? Just a bit closer….
“OW!”
Something stabbed his hand!
“Keep those fangs away from my father, demon!”
How rude! Sure, his teeth were big and razor sharp, and his skin was a blueish-green, and his claws were the length of an average person’s forearm, but that didn’t mean he was a demon!
“Thash sho meannnn—”
“Quiet! Where has Daniel been taken? What did you do with him?!”
“Huh..? Whad’ya mean, ‘m right…”
Wait a minute… that voice is… incredibly familiar….
“… oh! I geddit now!”
Danny reached for his blurry looking friend with his non-stabbed hand, gripping a little tighter than he meant to.
“Shorry f’r not comin, got ki’napped, we c’n hang now though! Not tied up an’more.”
He used his free hand to open up a portal to his room in the castle, and floated through, his friend safely in his hand. He thinks his friend said something to him, but…
“Shorry, wha wazzat? Ish kinda hard to… to…”
Danny’s jaw unhinged as he yawned, and his body began to feel heavy.
“Shorry, I’m… kinda shleepy…”
He managed to get his upper half fully onto the bed before passing out.
A few hours later, he woke up with a migraine, a strong sense of debilitating shape, and a shockingly composed Robin standing a few feet from his face.
Well.
Shit.
“So. Daniel. Care to explain?”
… yeah Danny fucked up.
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tgmsunmontue · 4 months
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Another Time (Chapter 10/14)
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE
Summary: Jake wakes up in Rooster's body ~30 hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.
(Posting on Tumblr, chapter a day until it's complete (currently 14 chapters already written), after it's complete I will post it on AO3 once a day until it's completed there as well).
Odd chapter = Jake POV, Even chapter = Bradley POV
TEN
                He wakes up warm, his arm firmly tucked over a torso, and he hums under his breath. He’s still not in his own body. As he’d predicted last night, Nat had commandeered his guest room. Coyote had gotten a lift home from Bob, both promising to return tomorrow. Now today. It had left him with the sofa, the lumpy as fuck one-seater or the floor beside Hangman. He’d considered the option of sliding into the bed beside Hangman, but there’s a big difference between doing it when he’s awake and asking (and okay, a bit loopy because of the drugs), and doing it when he’s fast asleep. He’d wanted to though. Being rudely woken in the middle of the night and being offered, no, told, that got what he wanted, well, that’s something he could get used to.
                He stretches a little, nuzzles his nose into the nape of Hangman’s neck and just breathes for a moment.
                “Mornin’,” Hangman says, voice rough and Bradley misses his accent.
                “Morning…” He replies, hears the accent and it just isn’t the same.
                “So, what’s on the list?”
                “It ended up being quite a… quite a list,” Bradley states, because he’d read it over and felt uncomfortable just reading it, let alone discussing it. Although he knows they’re going to have to. He draws away from Hangman and reaches for the piece of paper and hands it to Hangman silently. Gets up and goes to the bathroom and comes back, sliding back under the blankets without being asked, Hangman having shifted to face him and looking at him isn’t going to make this any easier.
                “Vulnerability. Trust. Communication… this is like intense couples therapy before we’re even a proper couple,” Hangman says and Bradley laughs quietly, because he’s not wrong.
                “Yeah. This feels all backwards.”
                “Hmm. You think we would have managed to figure this out if we’d been doing it the traditional way?”
                “Well, I guess we’ll never know.”
                “Guess so. Backwards it is. Well, at least we can cross off proximity and touch… I mean, we’ve touched plenty,” Hangman states and his lips twitch in a smile and Bradley finds his eyes tracking the movement. Also noting that his moustache really needs a trim. Hmm.
                “And calling each other by our first names…”
                “You got a middle name?”
                “Uh, yeah. Peter.”
                “After Mav?” Hangman asks.
                “Yeah,” Bradley says on a sigh.
                “Hmm. Well, okay then Bradley Peter Bradshaw, my name is Jacob Andrew Seresin.”
                “Nice to meet you Jacob Andrew Seresin…”
                They both go silent, looking around hopefully for a brief second before they both break into huffs of laughter, shaking their heads.
                “God I wish it was that easy.”
                “Guess we can’t catch a break huh? Well, how about… biggest fear?”
                Bradley has to stop and think, because his immediate response is that he’s not afraid of anything. That’s a lie of course, but he can’t put it in words what it is he’s afraid of the most, feels like he’s lived through his worst fears coming true over and over to put a voice to them.
                “Least favorite food?” Hangman asks instead, obviously reading something in his silence or on his face.
                “Fruit.”
                “An entire food group? Really?”
                “Yeah. I’m really picky when it comes to fruit. My apples need to be crunchy, my bananas not too soft, pineapple still firm…”
                Hangman snorts.
                “Picky wee Rooster…”
                “No, I just know what I like.”
                “Do you just…”
                Bradley laughs, wants to shove him, kiss him, straddle him and –
                “Do you ever stop flirting?”
                “Nope. It’s all part of my charm darlin’.”
                “Part of something alright,” Bradley mutters and then Hangman is leaning forward, capturing his lips so soft and Bradley relaxes into it for the briefest of moments.
                “So, the whole physical intimacy. So polite of Bob. I want… it’s the last resort. I want to be in my own body when we do… more.”
                “More. Yeah… Although, if you jerk me off right now, would that count as you getting me off, or me getting off?”
                Bradley groans and pulls away with a laugh, shakes his head as he feels his neck and chest go warm with desire and embarrassment.
                “I have no idea… but I feel like we can put that down as a middle-step…”
                “All part of your plan of attack hmm?
                “Shut up. Like you have any better ideas.”
                “It’s just like another mission. We’ll figure it out. Break it down.”
                “Doubt this one can be fixed with a couple of well-aimed missiles.”
                “No. But I guess I can talk about myself for a bit…”
                “Your favorite subject right?” Bradley says, and he means it as a joke before he realizes that no, Hangman doesn’t talk about himself. He’s a cocky arrogant fighter pilot, confident in his abilities and more than willing to talk himself up… but that’s all surface. It’s not who he is. “Tell me.”
                “Hmm. Well. Vulnerable right?”
                Bradley’s stomach does an unpleasant flip. He’d hoped there wasn’t a tragic backstory or trauma but…
                “It’s not bad. I mean, my parents had me very late in life. My brother and sister are closer to Mav’s age than mine. Still, we’re all pretty close. I’m closer with my nieces and nephews… It’s just…”
                “You don’t have to…”
                “But I do, don’t I? What if it’s this that makes us switch back?”
                Bradley lets out a long breath, because he has a point.
                “We don’t have to do it all now though. Come on. We’ve got to get you ready for your hospital appointment and then we’ve got the debrief. We’ve also got something really important to take care of.”
                “What?”
                “I need to trim that moustache,” Bradley states and grins when Hangman laughs freely, some level of tension dripping away.
                “Do you not trust me?”
                “With my life? Yes. With my ‘stache? Not so much…”
                “Afraid I might shave the whole thing off?”
                “I think I could deal with that, it’s you trimming it crooked that would be world ending.”
                “Well okay honey, take care of me.”
ELEVEN
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novelcain · 1 year
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Hello I am feeling romantic after watching an episode of Bluey
Wukong realizing he loves Reader's laugh. (Because that always gets me flustered-)
One day, something happens or Wukong says something that makes Reader have a bit of a belly laugh, which the gang can't help but chuckle with. Except Wukong, who feels pride and... something else-? Bubbling up inside of him, so he just grins proudly, puffing his chest out with a huff.
He doesn't dwell on it (he does.) until a day where Reader gets a little loopy (or high.) because of being tired or having been effected by something.
And he keeps finding himself saying, doing, causing things to make her laugh; Those good, deep belly laughs where it hurts after you're done. He loves it, and he tells her as such, which makes her start giggling and blushing and hiding her face in his chest fluff, telling him to 'stop'.
He adores your laughter, especially if he's the cause of it.
- 🍉
AAAH 🍉 I FOUND IT! I HAD TO REFRESH!
This is absolutely adorable~🥹🥹🥹 He would do the most obnoxious shit to make her laugh too
It also tickles my soul a little because I have kind of a loud laugh and I used to be made fun of for it but this reminded me how Ritz made me love my laugh because she said that when I laugh really loud she can tell it’s real so she loves it and I’m just thinking of Wukong making Reader feel that way too.🥺
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amitlee · 1 year
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“I Kinda Want To Beat The Shit Out Of George.”
Summary: This video but it devolves into drunk, giggly lee!sapnap.
Warnings: Mentions of being drunk
————————————————————
Dream leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch. He felt warm, complete even. He giggled along with his two best friends as they bantered back and forth.
“Man,” Sapnap said, “I’m so drunk right now, I kind of want to beat the shit out of George.”
Dream wheezed in laughter at the statement, finding Sapnap’s ferocity endlessly amusing. He turned to his other side when he felt a tap to his shoulder. George looked at him,
“Dream, don’t let him-“ The Englishman set his gaze to bore challengingly into Sapnap’s. “Do it.”
Before Dream could register what was happening, Sapnap had attempted to vault over his lap to get to George. George screeched and slid over a few inches until he was pressed against the arm of the couch, just barely being able to evade Sapnap’s uncoordinated hands trying to grab at him. Dream put his arm up to block Sapnap from trying to get any closer to George, who was now sticking his tongue out mockingly.
“LET ME AT HIM!” Sapnap yelled indignantly. He grappled against Dream and the couch, only succeeding in laying on his stomach while sprawled across the man’s lap.
Dream chuckled, “Absolutely not, keep your hands to yourselves.” He tried to rangle Sapnap’s arms back into his own space and away from their outstretched position towards George, ultimately deeming it hopeless and instead opting to get out from in between them. “Get off me, dude.” He said as he attempted to pick Sapnap up off of his lap, accidentally digging into his sides.
Sapnap yelped, loopy giggles tumbling from his mouth, and his arms snapping down to his sides. “NOHohoho!”
The room quieted down except for Sapnap’s near constant titters. He’d seemed to have worked himself into quite a fit, if his red cheeks and babbling giggles were anything to go by.
“No way.” George broke in his disbelief.
“Oh yeah, he gets like this sometimes.” Dream explained. He fondly looked down at Sapnap, who shook his head but was too far gone to actually disagree.
George scooted to be next to the pair, Sapnap’s temper being entirely gotten rid of and replaced with a new smiling image. “How have you kept this from me? He’s so-“ George paused in thought for the right word, “-so, cheery! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this at all.”
Dream scoffed, “It wasn’t kept from you.” He smiled at the dramatics. “He’s just ticklish.”
“That’s what that was?” George questioned with wide, excited eyes. “Oh my god, that’s so cute.”
Their attention snapped to Sapnap when he let out a clearly flustered whine.
George cooed, lightly skittering his nails across Sapnap’s neck. Sapnap scrunched his neck and turned his head, exposing his pink face, sparkling eyes, and elated smile to his friends. They both awed at the adorable display that so deeply contrasted the playful aggression shown just minutes prior.
Sapnap squealed when George’s nails focused on the crook on his neck connecting to his shoulder. He dissolved into hysterical peels of high pitched laughter and tried to curl up, only to jolt and completely crumble into a cacophony of mirthful sounds as Dream pinched and prodded at his ribs.
The addition of Dream exploring his ribs, expertly tickling over the bones and scratching the sensitive skin, made Sapnap’s skin prickle and tingle intensely. Despite it being nearly unbearable, he couldn’t help but hope it would last forever.
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I think I’ve forgotten how to write
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eunchancorner · 2 years
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Happy Birthday Eun!! Hope you’re having an amazing birthday! 🥳 Sadly I’ve never actually seen Hamilton but I did understand most of the references and I think you did amazing! Maybe for your special day someone (your choice) is getting birthday tickles! A little extra gift to boost their moral or something. Again I hope today has treated you well and that you got to smile a whole bunch😊 -Olive
Oh I HIGHLY recommend watching it, it’s beautiful! I mean, there’s love, loss, heartbreak, freaking WAR, a piece of American history in a musical :> But anyways, this is prob coming out after. I just kinda let my mind run with this one, so let’s see what happens!
Edit: I DID NOT READ THE PROMPT I’M SORRY-
  Ler Izuku, Lee Kaminari
Warning: none
Word count: 680
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“COME HERE, KAMINARI!!” Izuku taunted, his hands curled into claws, him and the electric blonde on opposite sides of the couch, knowing when one would move, the other would move. And Izu was loving every bit of the chase, almost feeling like he was hunting for Kaminari’s laughter.
“Bahack off, Midoriya!!” Kaminari warned, already having a bright, giddy smile on his face and an excited spark in his eyes. He was ready to continue the chase as soon as the other moved, and the thrill was only making his lee mood turn from wanting to be held and tickled until he was so loopy from giggles he forgot how to speak, to wanting to be pinned and tickled mercilessly until he lost his mind laughing and rolling around on the carpet. It was easy to see he loved when his friends got playful.
“Kamiii~”
“Noho!!”
“I’m gonna getcha!” Izuku insisted, moving to go around the couch, but stopped when he saw Denki move too. He smirked, and felt an idea forming. He moved like he was about to go to the right, causing Denki to panic and go to the left, and Izuku went for it. He zipped around the left, catching Kaminari as he nearly barreled into him.
“W-wait, what?! No fair!” Kami protested, excited giggles already spilling from his mouth as he squirmed in the surprisingly strong grip of the small student. He knew what was coming, even before he felt fingers squishing his tummy.
“Nohoho wahait! Nohot my tuhummy!” He kept trying to squirm out of Deku’s grasp, only succeeding in falling onto the floor and being quickly straddled by the greenette. “Dohon’t!”
“Don’t what? What shouldn’t I do, Kami-Kami?” Izuku laid down his verbal trap, smirking as Kami fell for it on purpose.
“Tickle me!!”
“As you wish, my buzzy friend!”
“WaitwaitwaitwaHAHAHAIT!!” he burst into squealing laughter as Deku dug into the sides of his belly, a bit of a fluff spot, but it was all too sensitive. And Izuku knew this.
“Izukuhuhuhu!! Ihit tiHIHIHIhickles!! Stahahahap!!” he squealed out, kicking out behind the greenette.
“Aww, but I don’t want to! You’re so cute like this, no wonder Kacchan’s group loves tickling you so much!” Midoriya cooed, leaning in with a smile bright enough to rival the poor lee’s own.
Kami felt his face heating up, his ears and cheeks a bright red. “Shuhuhut!!”
“Hmmm..” Izuku pretended to think it over before smirking, dipping a finger into Kami’s belly button. “Nah~”
“NAHAHAHOHOHO WAHAHAIT!!”
“Wait? Wait for what?”
“IHIT TIHIHICKLES!! IT’S BAHAHAD! SO BAHAHAD!!” he smacked Deku’s hands.
“Oh, does it? Hmm, well, does this?” Izuku inhaled deeply before blowing a long, vicious raspberry on Denki’s belly. The electric student squealed loudly, his body emitting tiny electric zaps, a few of which hit Izuku’s lips and made him pull away to rub the tingles away.
“Oh, is that how we’re playing this? Ok, then take this!!” He took one of Kami’s own hands and placed it on the blonde’s belly, wincing a bit at the screech that ripped from Denki’s throat.
“EEEEEAAHAHAHA STAHAHA!! AHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!!!” he attempted to plead through his cackles, unable to form any words.
“Does that tickle, Kami? Does it tickle? If it tickles so bad, why don’t you stop?~” Izuku teased, knowing that Kaminari couldn’t control it, and the incredibly ticklish sensations were only causing him to spark more.
“PLEHEHEHEHEEEE!! LEHET GOHOHOHOHOOO!” he managed to get out, tugging at his hand. Izuku noticed his laughter getting frantic and complied, letting go of his hand, watching it fall limply to the ground as Kami kept laughing from the intense phantom sensations in his tummy.
Izuku stood and went to get Kaminari some water, the giggly student curling up on the carpet. He soon returned, pulling the taller student into a hug and giving him the glass of water, which he drank without hesitation.
“You really love tickles, don’t you?” Izuku asked the blonde, who blushed at the question and nodded without a word, clearly embarrassed. “Heh… then I’m gonna have to do that more often."
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Hehe I love them
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skylarmoon71 · 3 months
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Miguel O' Hara - AU Scientist (Across the Spider-Verse) - Chapter 3
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There were things Miguel was always certain of in life. His intelligence, routines, and his ability to always find solutions to each scientific problem that was sent his way.
Love..
That was not something he ever thought he could achieve, much less hold onto.
Not until recently.
“I’ve always thought you were adorable.”
“How do you not see it, you’re built like a machine, it's awesome!”
“Do you want to come shopping with me on Saturday? I’ll get you some of those empanadas you really love on our way back. Promise!”
“You’re a genius, I have no doubt you’ll figure it out.”
These are all statements that have left your lips and further convinced him that you were an angel created just for him. Seeing you that day so flustered and dazed from his kiss had done something to him. Since then he’s been a bit hesitant to initiate anything more. The truth is, he wants you to make the first move, but he knows you’re very conscious of his quirks. You’ve never so much as touched him unless he did so first. He feels like you’re restraining yourself just because of him. He wants to tell you that it’s okay.
If there is anyone he’d like to feel, it’s you.
But how does he put that into words?
“Miguel, hey Miguel!”
He blinks at the call. The redhead standing before him makes him tune in.
“Hi Lyla, did you need something?”
She smirked.
“(Y/N) got you all loopy lover boy.”
His cheeks tinted red and her laughter continued. When you walked in and saw the two, you smiled.
“Lyla, are you picking on Miguel again?” You laugh.
She raised her hands.
“I would never. I just needed to borrow something. See you two lovebirds later~” She walks off with a happy skip and you giggle.
“I swear she enjoys messing with us.”
Lyla was nothing if not invested. After she claimed that she ‘Set you both up’. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she took credit.
Miguel's eyes were directed at the table and you realized then that he seemed a bit out of it.
“Everything okay?”
He nods.
“Yes, sorry. I was just stuck on an equation. But I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Well of course you did, it’s you we’re talking about. "
He lifts his head, and somehow his gaze feels much different. His form straightens and he moves a bit closer. Your heart picks up just a smidge at the unexpected shift in atmosphere.
“(Y/N), would you like to come over tonight?”
An invitation…
“Yes!!”
You’ve long stopped caring about your desperate replies to his invitations. You nod eagerly.
“I’d love.. to come over.”
You aren’t really sure why you’re whispering. It’s just the two of you in there.
His eyes trail to your lips, and when he moves in, your brows knit. The kiss is so soft. Yet passionate. You both stand there for a few seconds and when he pulls away, he lets out a soft satisfied breath.
“Okay..”
He mumbles.
If you were being honest, you’d been wondering why he hadn’t done much since that day in the lab. Every now and then he would leave light kisses on your cheek or lips. It always felt like he wanted more. You could see it in his eyes. It was like he was holding himself back and you weren’t sure why.
Maybe tonight you’ll know.
~~~
Work felt like it would never end. Miguel had texted you to take your time, but you literally couldn’t wait any longer. So after advising him that you would grab dinner, he eagerly anticipated your arrival.
“I’m here and I got the noodles!”
Miguel smiles when he opens the door.
You’re standing there with a bright smile and takeout Chinese. For a moment he almost loses his nerve. He steps aside for you to get in and you begin informing him of the adventure you endured just to get the food.
“Wow, your house is so nice.”
You marvel at the framed awards on his walls. Not that you’re surprised. His wallpaper is an assortment of navy and red. It’s an interesting design. You admire all you can as he guides you to the kitchen. You place the food on the counter as he moves to get the plates.
Miguel is moving around grabbing napkins and whatever else is needed and you begin to explain a theory that’s been on your mind. He’s trying to pay attention, he really is. But you’re standing there, eyes filled with the type of light that always follows when you talk science. You’re wearing a pair of sweats and a baggy sweater. Definitely a product of the chilly weather. 
There’s nothing seductive about your attire. Not in the slightest. But when he looks at you, every part of him feels so much that it almost drives him crazy. Nothing other than his work has ever occupied his mind the way you do. Miguel drops the items on the counter.
“I want you to initiate more with me” It’s said so softly, almost like a plea.
He hadn’t even realized the words left his mouth until he saw your hands lower from talking animatedly. Your expression is a mix of shock and bashfulness.
Miguel turns his head.
“Lo siento..”
There must have been a better way to broach that topic. Now he feels like he’s said something out of line.
“You don’t have to apologize, Miguel.”
He feels like he should.
Your steps seem to echo in the room. You reach out for him, and his body turns slowly. Now that he’s facing you, your hand moves a bit hesitant, resting right on his arm. You look almost relieved and it’s then that he concludes that you’ve been afraid of him recoiling from your touch. You’ve seen some of the reactions that he’s had in the past. So you’re careful.
Considerate.
“You should never be afraid to touch me.” Miguel states.
Somehow it seems that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.
“Are you..sure..?”
“I’m sure.”
Your hand grips his arm just a little and you lean unto your toes, matching his height the best you can. Miguel eyes close softly and he pulls you in. Your hands move to the back of his neck and you slide them into his hair. A little sound escapes him, and he’s a bit surprised when your tongue slides past his lips.
“Ngh..”
The soft groan that echoes in his throat has you holding on tighter. Your fingers are massaging his scalp as he’s convinced it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life. Your hips are pressed so closely to his. It’s beginning to produce a reaction.
You finally pull back, and your breathing is so unsteady.
“Cariño..”
He murmurs.
He’s still trying to gather his thoughts. Because the tightness of his pants is a bit distracting.
You take his hand, biting your lower lip as you guide him to the stairs. He follows, his gaze hazy with anticipation.
He knows exactly what you want, and he can’t wait to fulfill all your desires. 
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adamwatchesmovies · 1 year
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The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones (2013)
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When you call a film a Frankenstein’s Monster, the assumption is that you've stitched together pieces of different properties to make a new thing. That doesn’t quite work with The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. If it were merely Vampire Academy (which is part Twilight) plus Harry Potter, it would have two legs, two arms and a single head. This movie is more like a teleportation accident. All the arms, legs, and heads are still there, creating a would-be franchise starter so unoriginal you can keep yourself entertained by predicting what’s coming next.
Teenaged Clary Fray (Lily Collins) worries her mother, Jocelyn (Lena Headey), when she begins drawing a strange symbol. Soon, Clary begins seeing things and people no one else can, which is when she’s introduced to the world of “Shadowhunters”. “Mundanes” cannot see them, but demons live among us. The Shadowhunters are half-human half-angel warriors who hold the forces of evil back. When the villainous Magnus Bane (Godfrey Gao) kidnaps her mother, Clary and her best friend Simon (Robert Sheehan) join Jace Wayland (Jamie Campbell) to help. Hopefully Jocelyn' abduction does not mean the Mortal Cup (one of three Mortal Instruments given to the first Shadowhunter by the angel Raziel) has fallen into the wrong hands.
The more YA novel adaptations I see, the more credit I must give to the original Twilight film. Both it and the Harry Potter series started off small, building up their love plots and world-shaking final battles. The imitators make the mistake of introducing so much in the first chapter you can hardly keep track of what’s happening. This world has angels, demons, witches, vampires and werewolves… all living among us and right under our noses. There’s the obligatory love triangle between Lily, her creepy best friend who pines for her (seriously, Simon is totally a proto incel) and the hunky, dangerous, tattoo-clad supernatural warrior who doesn’t want anything to do with the girl but can’t stay away from her. There are prophecies, magic tattoos, betrayals, revelations and so much going on this feels like two or three movies crammed into one. Well, in many ways, it is. If you haven’t seen The Maze Runner, Divergent, The Host, Eragon, Red Riding Hood, Beastly and so many others, this plot may seem novel but to the rest of us, this is a parade that makes you wonder “what’s next?!” in the worst way. Just wait until the part where they talk about Sebastian Bach. It’s so loopy I almost say it’s worth seeing this movie for it alone.
Part of what makes The City of Bones so entertaining is that it keeps finding new ways to be bad. Overall, the special effects are fine for a mid-budget production but note the way the afore-mentioned werewolves never transform on-screen because… you know, that would be expensive. As you watch and wait for the titular City of Bones to appear, keep your expectations low because the sanctuary is so unimportant it should’ve been omitted entirely. The romantic love plot is the middle of much bigger things will either infuriate you, or cause you to slip into uncontrollable laughter. I know these are teens with raging hormones but come on people. The peril outside is so much bigger than who’s kissing who! I know this is supposed to be wish-fulfilment for teenage girls. It's just that Clary makes so many wrong decisions and causes so many problems it’s a little embarrassing to watch.
Despite everything, I’m disappointed this picture never got the sequel it so desperately wanted. They drop a bomb towards the end. I want it resolved so desperately I’d sit through at least 2 to 3 more of these just to see it resolved. It’s another thing to make fun of. This is the embodiment of teenage angst in the middle of much bigger things, which means I had a great time watching The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. (August 30, 2019)
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daintyduck99 · 2 years
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Oooh, for the cliche prompts, X is in a relationship but falls for Y could lead to a fun Peterpatterlina fic!
Reggie flies into the apartment and slumps against the door. His heart keeps going without him, hurtling at a hundred miles per hour, threatening to burst straight through the slip of paper he’s clutching to his chest. He holds it aloft with trembling fingers, barely able to read the thing.
He doesn’t need to look at it to read the number written there in loopy cursive, though. He’d memorized that on the way home, along with the curl of her signature, right down to the little heart she’d signed over the ‘i’. He has to look at it again to make sure that it’s real.
He sighs, then lets another one, light and then heavy, tucking the paper into the breast pocket of his flannel. Luke shouldn’t be home yet, but Reggie looks around the apartment, anyway.
A trail of clutter confirms that Luke hasn’t returned since he left for work. Reggie scrabbles for the coat that must’ve fallen from its hook and throws it back into place as he fumbles for his phone. He doesn’t dial Luke’s number, nor the one that’s still swimming behind his eyes. 
“Cherry! What’s up? It’s not like you to call without mentioning it ahead of time.” 
“I know. Sorry, Wills.” Reggie bites his lip. “Were you busy?” 
Willie scoffs. “I’m never too busy to talk to you, dude. You okay?” 
“I think so?” Reggie jams his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he bustles about, hastily tidying the multitude of tiny messes. He yanks the rumpled blanket off the back of the sofa and starts refolding it. “You know how Luke’s been encouraging me to ask that girl from my photography class out on a date? Um—she beat me to it.” 
“That’s great!” Willie exclaims. His voice is bubbly with laughter, as usual, and Reggie smiles in spite of himself. “I mean, I haven’t even met this girl and I could’ve told you that she’s into you. You don’t need to put your arms around someone to adjust their camera settings.” 
Reggie splutters. “I didn’t want to assume! But anyway, that’s not the point.” 
“Oh, Cherry.” Willie hums sympathetically. “You haven’t told Luke yet? Having doubts?” 
“I—” He’s picking at the blanket. Reggie returns it to its proper place and follows the clutter into the kitchen. “I love him, Willie. He knows that. But I’m really falling for her, too. And Luke can be a little—possessive. What if he’s not really okay with it? Do you think he’d tell me? Plus I have to tell her about him, and—I don’t want anyone to get hurt, Wills.” 
“Hey, you’ll be okay. All relationships require communication, you know? And everyone has different needs. There’s a learning curve. You’re really good at picking up on what people need because you’re so considerate, Reggie. You’ll figure it out.” 
Reggie sighs, sticking Luke’s cereal bowl in the dishwasher. “Thanks, Willie.” 
“Just don’t neglect your own needs,” Willie says seriously. “Be upfront with them. And keep me posted. If things don’t work out with Julie, I’ll be there with a big tub of your favorite ice cream, okay? Count on it.” 
Reggie huffs a laugh. “I’d be insulted if you forgot what it is at this point, since you shortened it and turned it into a nickname.” 
“That’s what I’m saying! I’ve got your back, man. And so does Luke.” 
“Yeah,” Reggie agrees quietly, “you do. Bye, Wills.” 
“Later, Cherry.” 
Reggie continues to clean a bit haphazardly until Luke gets home, looping his arms around Reggie’s waist. He kisses the back of his neck. 
“Baby, what’s wrong? You’ve been stress-cleaning. Sorry about the mess, I overslept.” 
“It’s okay,” Reggie mumbles. He lets Luke guide him to the sofa, plopping beside him so they lay facing one another, curled together like parentheses. He looks into Luke’s concerned eyes, a warm, honeyed golden brown today, and rips off the bandaid. “Julie asked me out.” 
“That’s awesome!” Luke places his palm on Reggie’s cheek and pulls him in for a kiss, grinning all the while. “You’re seriously smitten, it’s about time one of you made a move. So why do you seem worried?” 
Reggie covers Luke’s hand, searching his eyes. “You’re really okay with it? I mean, I still need to tell her about you, but I’m pretty sure her parents are dating Trevor Wilson, they’re all sort of famous and it’s all but been confirmed so—” 
“Wait.” A tiny crease appears between Luke’s eyebrows. “Reg, what’s Julie’s last name?” 
“Molina, why?” 
Luke’s face goes through a complicated series of emotions. It settles into a brittle smile. 
“Julie Molina was—she’s my ex-girlfriend.” 
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montgomery-cannon · 1 year
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consider, just once a flashback self para
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t buy it.”
Monty shot a sideways glance at Dayne. “You don’t buy it?”
She laughed and stuck a hand in her pocket. “Yeah. The whole thing. The Blue Ridgidian pride. The us-or-them mentality. The whole thing.” She gestured with her other hand, a hand rolled cigarette of local plants held between her fingers. She offered it out to Montgomery, but he shook his head. He could never.
“It’s not going to kill you, you know.” She said, taking a long pull.
“Not yet,” he retorted. “But wait til we get jumped by zeds, and you’re all loopy from your smoke, and I have to jump in to save us.” He took another step away from her, not wanting the smell to land on his clothes. Dayne doubled over in laughter.
“You? Save me? Please, Cannon. You haven’t beat me in hand to hand combat since we were kids. C’mon. It’s my seventeenth birthday. Smoke with me.” She offered the joint again. For a moment, he let his eyes flick up to meet hers - her dark green eyes that somehow managed to sparkle with every new discovery as if they hadn’t seen every inch of this forest before.
“I can’t.” He retreated to sit by the brook that was barely holding on. Rumor said this was once a mighty, raging river, but now the Zouri Brook was little more than a nuisance for overland travel. “What do you mean, though? About not buying it?”
Dayne joined him after a moment of contemplation. “I just mean there’s more out there, you know? If we, here in Blue Ridge, came up with this... this way of being. There had to have been other ways as well.”
“Well sure, but if Blue Ridge is still around, then clearly our ways worked.”
“Yeah, but Sylvania is still around. And South Falls and all of them.”
“How do you know they don’t do it the way we do?”
“Because we’re ordered to shoot on sight most days. That’s not what you do when you agree with someone.” 
Monty shot another glance over at her. She was something to look at, with auburn hair hitting her shoulders - she rarely let it down, of course, given the tight dress codes of the border patrol. But here, in their little grove, she could be someone else. She met his eyes, and he darted away, not expecting her contact.
“So you never think about... leaving?”
The question hung heavy in the air, mixing with the smoke from her cigarette. Monty couldn’t decide which one made him more uncomfortable, but only one of them was he able to act on.
“Give me that.” He reached over and plucked the joint from her fingers before taking a much-too-big huff. Dayne laughed, then chided him like one does a horse, encouraging him to slow down. But he couldn’t let her beat him at anything, so he pulled and pulled until he was coughing. 
“That’s actually good, you know,” she said when he had gathered himself. “Coughing means the fumes get deeper into your lungs.” 
“Yeah, that felt real good.” he mused, wrapping his arms around his legs. 
“You’re ignoring my question.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“We could, you know.”
“We could - we could what?”
“Go. Run. Right now.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Montgomery, look at me.” His head swiveled slowly to meet her eyes yet again. “You know what they’d do to me if they found out I said that to you. So how can you think I’m not serious?” He did. Exile the deserters if that’s what they really want! His father’s words bounced in his head.
Dayne reached out and placed a hand on top of Montgomery’s. “Monty. I’m leaving. Tonight. After second curfew. I’ve sent word ahead to a place in Sylvania who will host me. There’s room for you, too...”
A silence mixed with the smoke again.
“... if you want it.”
It seemed like an eternity that Monty felt her hand on his. He fully lost himself in her eyes. Whether it was the moment or the smoke, he’d never figure out, but for the briefest of moments he saw a life ahead - two kids, laughing in the treehouses of Sylvania with Dayne. 
He pulled his hand away.
“I - we should get back.”
Dayne blinked, and Montgomery saw she was holding back tears. “Oh. Yeah. Of course. Of course.”
The two travelled back to base camp in silence. The next morning, Dayne didn’t check in for breakfast.
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flusterd-screaming · 3 years
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A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:
A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.
The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.
He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.
One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:
“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”
Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:
“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”
Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:
“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”
Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:
“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 
He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.
“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”
Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:
“The stables?”
The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.
When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.
~
The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.
This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 
The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 
Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:
“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”
The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:
“That’s treason, Merlin.”
“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”
Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-
“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”
Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:
“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”
Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:
“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”
Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-
“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”
Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?
Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:
“Fuck off.”
Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:
“You love me really, you prat.”
With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.
Huh.
~
The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 
He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:
“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”
Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:
“...What?”
Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:
“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”
She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.
The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.
Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:
“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”
Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:
“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”
Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:
“What do you want?”
Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:
“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”
Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:
“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”
Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:
“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”
Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:
“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”
Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:
“Fuck off.”
Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.
~
The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.
He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 
He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.
The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:
“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”
Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.
He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.
It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.
~
He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.
In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.
And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.
So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.
He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 
He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.
He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.
He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.
Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.
Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.
~
THE END
I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅
I hope y’all enjoyed it!!
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clout-babe · 3 years
Text
Head High [nsfw]
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cc!sapnap x fem!reader
nsfw - minors dni
warnings: smoking (weed), oral sex, praise kink, thigh riding, a lil bit of hair pullling, mention of spitting, degrading if you squint
prompt/summary: reader gets high and finds their way into sapnaps bedroom
smoking + nsfw under the cut
"How on earth would I choose between the two of you?" I hazily looked back and forth between two of my friends with half-lidded eyes.
The boy with dirty blonde stray hairs decorating his forehead looked up from his hands, "I don't know. Come on, you gotta like one of us better?" While it seemed to be a statement, his tone suggested he was unsure.
I blinked twice, my eyelids felt like they could stick together and stay shut forever.
"Aw don't make her choose, they look confused enough as it is. As is? As it is." In a hushed voice, the girl across from me spoke. I tried to examine her face, but the lighting made it difficult. The room seemed to shine a vibrant baby blue, reflecting on every surface possible. My eyes bounced around the room, moving at what felt like light-speed.
I didn't stop glancing around until I felt a pressure on the surface in front of me. The boy sat right next to the girl. Names are helpful though. What's his name? What's her name?
"What's your name?" At this point I couldn't stop my thoughts from barreling off my tongue. I love this. Or do I hate it? Oooh guilt. Nevermind, it's gone!
"What?" The girl cracked a smile, still speaking barely above a whisper.
"Your name," I felt a giggle in my throat. "I forgot it." The laughter that followed from all three of us was choked and silenced. It wasn't funny. That made me laugh harder.
Between the girl and I rested a grey, worn pillow. I curled forward with my legs crossed, pushing my head into it. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, silenced laughs still flowing from my stomach. I felt a tap at the back of my head and reached my hand up, which felt like liquid almost. Not really though.
The tips of my fingers were met with a warm metal, and I was finally able to settle myself a bit. I picked my head back up, grasping the now known item.
My fingers were delicately wrapped around the cart. I spun it around, looking for the button on the pen. I brought it up to my lips as if it were nothing new, which it wasn’t really. Pressing down on the button, I began to suck against the cartridge portion, watching a ring of blue glow around my fingers. My head felt empty and heavy at the same time. The dry smoke hit the back of my throat, causing me to squint my eyes as a natural reaction. I continued to inhale until I no longer felt it necessary. Hold for three seconds.
1
2
3
Exhale.
The air blowing out of me sounded loud compared to everything else. In the background I could distinctly hear some cartoon character rambling on, bringing me a sense of faltered nostalgia. Now focusing on the cartoon, I turned my head, looking to where I believed the sound was coming from.
This attention not lasting long, I turned back around to see the girl looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you good, bro?”
A loopy grin spread across my face and I felt every muscle tense in my cheeks. My eyes almost suddenly widened more, no longer feeling sleepy. “I think I’m good.” That’s what I tried to say at least, not so sure it came out 100% clear. “What did I just hit?”
“You hit the hybrid. My pen.” The boy murmured. Clay! That’s his name.
My brain felt like it was buzzing. Such a quick change. “Which one is that?”
“That’s the wakey wakey one,” Alyssa whispered with wide eyes. Alyssa!
I hummed in response. I sat there, staring forward, looking around desperately trying to find something to focus on. My head bobbed up and down as my arms started to slightly tingle.
I’m not high, I’m not high. Yes I am. No. Yes. Only a high person has these back and forths while barely remembering their previous thoughts dumbass.
I smiled at my head voice.
“If I had to choose one of you, in the s-scenario that you weren’t-t friends anymore or… like… someth- something.” My brain was fried. I had enough trouble gathering words while sober, being intoxicated didn’t exactly help. “I wouldn’t choose. I’d hate both of you li- like eternally or something. Eternally? Is that the right word?”
Alyssa seemed to be in a similar state to me now, hitting Clay’s pen. “Sound’s right.” Her voice sounded rough with an exhale. I watched the scattered clouds escape her lips.
I watched her lips. She had pretty pink lips. Soft and plush. Reminded me of Nick’s.
Nick.
“When’s Nick gonna be home?” He was the only thing on my mind now. My mind was in a state that made it easy for it to wander. I didn’t hate it though.
Clay shook his head from side to side. “Should be any moment now.”
As if on cue, I heard the automated alarm voice, stating the front door had open. A goofy smile took over, and I practically rolled off the bed. Using the common sense I had, I made my way out the room. Shuffling through the hallway and into the kitchen where I saw brunette tufts of hair sticking out from under a black hat.
“Hi handsome,” I cooed, walking up behind him. He turned around, obviously not expecting to be met face to face with me.
It was pretty clear I was into Sapnap. It was pretty clear he was into me. We had this sort of thing going for a couple months now, but neither of us really spoke on it. We had made it apparent that we wanted each other, but both of us remained in the comfort of not trying to ruin the friendship.
“Hi?” he smiled. After examining my stance and face a bit, he nodded. Realization set in after seeing the dilation in my pupils. “You guys started smoking? Without me?” he brought his palm to his chest, acting fake offended.
“Oh totally. Clay’s blazed and Alyssa isn’t much better.” I smiled. I felt hazy and I swear I had heart eyes just looking up at the man in front of me.
He tsked as he shook his head. “I’m gonna go in there for a bit. You comin’ with?” He didn’t move from where he stood, didn’t break eye contact. I shook my head.
“I’ll lay on the couch for now. Jus’ wanted to see my favorite boy.” I offered up a sweet smile. I swear his face turned slightly pink. Something about being high made me so much more… affectionate. While all I wanted to do was hug him, kiss him, and just be around him, I didn’t wanna annoy him. Though my high was getting stronger by the minute.
He nodded in acceptance, letting me walk to the couch before going to Clay’s room.
Laying on the sofa, I felt like I was sinking. my body felt heavy and all I could think about was Nick. And the more I thought about him, the more I wanted him, in more ways than one.
After what felt like forever, but seconds at the same time, Sapnap appeared in front of me on the edge of the couch.
I looked at him without moving my head. The high was super strong there and I felt almost paralyzed, body continuing to ‘sink’ into the couch.
“Wanna go hangout? Just me n’ you? Maybe listen to some music or something..” Sapnap offered up, and I happily agreed.
.
Music was long forgotten. A lot of things were long forgotten. I pressed my lips against Nick’s with what will I had. The way our lips moved together was sloppy. It was desperate, yet calm. My head buzzed and I felt my body jitter with excitement. I felt so…gone.
I swung my leg lazily around Nick’s lower half, positioning myself on one of his thighs. His tongue slid into my mouth, and with inhibitions lowered I let out a slight whine. I felt him smile against my mouth. Cocky motherfucker.
I began to roll my hips against his leg, now feeling more needy than ever. I wanted to be impossibly close to him. I needed to be impossibly close to him.
He separated our lips, taking a breath and looking down to where I was grinding against him. His hands slid down to my waist and began to guide me against him. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, quietly panting between planting small kisses there.
“Feel good, baby?” He muttered out, voice rough.
I nodded against him as he pushed his leg up against my crotch, earning a moan as a proper response. Everything felt so much better, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the drugs, or because it was him. Maybe it was both.
I began to try and move faster against him, chasing my orgasm. He moved his leg up and down against me, making it feel so much more intense.
The room was filled with heavy breaths and the little noises pulled from my throat. He hummed, obviously pleased by the effect he was having on me.
It only took a little more before I started to feel close. “Oh fuck sap, please-“
“Please what baby? Use your words,” He sounded so smug.
“Please, I-I need to cum,” my words stumbled out my mouth. He tightened his grip on my waist.
“Good girl.”
I rocked against him quicker, reaching my climax.
Moans spilled from me, causing him to grin. I rode out my high, locking my hands onto his shoulders as I slowed my hips, catching my breath. My whole body tingled.
“So good.” I finally managed to mumble out. The multiple hits I’d taken managed to finally begin to take effect. I was slightly more aware only due to my contact with another person.
“Yeah?” he quipped. I looked at his eyes before dropping my head to his shoulder. I hummed back. I felt his chest rumble as he laughed.
I finally pulled back, moving way too fast. Nick’s eyebrows raised in amusement, watching me attempt to move.
Succeeding, I had pushed myself off the bed, standing on the side of it. Nick’s face morphed from amused to curious, watching as I motioned him to come closer. He obeyed, slowly shifting himself to the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” He chuckled, obviously in a playful mood.
“Do you want me to return the favor?” I said as clearly as I thought I could. Though it was a little rushed, he obviously heard me.
His lips slightly parted. I slowly sunk to the ground, using his knees to guide myself. Face to face with his bulge.
Chef’s kiss.
His eyes tracked me. “I-“ he was clearly caught off guard. It took a moment and I watched his face twist as his brain caught up. “Hell yeah,” he whispered.
I moved my hair, tucking it behind my ears. I brought my hand up to his lap. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I knew we were both so far gone, and I just wanted to double check on his clarification.
“Right now,” his eyes were wide and he let out a breath, “I give you permission to do whatever you want.” His voice was low. He even sounded sober for a moment.
But the gaze in his eyes as he watched me begin to palm over his shorts gave him away. A shaky exhale escaped his throat.
“Nervous?” A smirk followed my remark. The intoxication made me feel more playful.
“Aw shut up,” he bit back.
“Yes sir.” I mumbled. After a couple seconds, I decided I was down beating around the bush. I glided my hands up, sinking my fingers into his waistband. He leaned back into his arms , lifting his hips to assist me.
Once his shorts were out the way, his cock sprung up. Even in the darkened room, I could still see the details clearly. It was flushed red at the tip from the lack of attention, and he was thick. My mouth would have been watering if I wasn’t experiencing cottonmouth.
Not letting myself stare too long, I looked up at him first. His cheeks were slightly pink. How cute.
“Is your mouth dry?” I mumbled.
He shook his head and I put my palm up near his face. Trying to keep my hand steady was a chore.
“Spit.”
He hesitated a bit before gathering some saliva in his mouth and pushing it out with his tongue onto my hand.
I hummed in satisfaction, not giving him a warning before attaching my hand to his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath as I ran my thumb over the slit.
I grinned, proud that I was already having this effect on him. I glanced up at his face as I began to jerk him off. His eyes slightly squinted, watching me move my hand around him. His lips stayed parted, taking little breaths with each movement I made. I squeezed my hand slightly applying light pressure.
“God, you’re really fucking good at that.” he nearly gasped. His eyes flitted over to my face, and I swear he melted at the sight of me on my knees looking up at him. He pulled one hand from behind him and brought it up to my chin.
“So pretty like this.” It was barely audible, but it literally was so fucking heart melting.
And though my brain was practically empty, I knew I wanted his dick in my mouth.
Without breaking eye contact, I leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the head of his cock. I slowed down my hand movements, just so that I could create a new pace. His hand slipped back to my hair.
Slowly, I wrapped my lips around him, sinking down onto his dick. A long groan could be heard above me. I went forward until I couldn’t anymore, then put my hand where I couldn’t reach.
I began to move my head, bobbing it around him. “holy shit, baby-“ it was practically a whine. i hummed, causing him to groan due to the stimulation. His hand flexed, pulling at my hair.
Desperate noises came from him. Nick got louder and louder until he got close.
“g’unna cum soon-“ he managed to get out. I didn’t stop. I buried his cock down my throat until my nose was hitting the skin on his pelvis. He grunted as I felt his cum literally hit the back of my throat. I continued to move my head, sucking him off until his noises of pleasure ceased.
I pulled off, coughing. He ran his hand over my head, mumbling praises to me.
“was s’ good”
“great job baby”
“fucking hell, princess”
Those were the only phrases I could make out. I couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or the massive crush I had on him, but my chest bloomed out of affection.
He stood up, fixing his shorts, “could we do this sober?”
I smiled at him, moving forward so I could straddle his legs. His hands moved up to my waist. “We could do a lot more sober”
:)
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Text
Drug-Induced Declarations
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Wisdom Teeth Oneshot
After getting her wisdom teeth out, Aelin makes a profound realization.
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Written for Rowaelin Month 2021. Day 1: “I just realized I'm desperately in love with you.” @rowaelinscourt
Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month Masterlist
Warnings: Language
1123 words
*******
“Hey, Rowan?” Aelin crooned from the passenger seat. Her head was lolling to the side, occasionally hitting the window, and causing her to glare at it each time.
Rowan held back a smile at her loopy grin. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and looked over as Aelin pulled on her seatbelt because apparently, it was trying to strangle her like a cobra.
When she opened her mouth, he could just see the large cotton swabs the dentist placed in there after she'd had her wisdom teeth removed.
Normally, Aelin was very put together. Sometimes cocky, usually cool, and always the wittiest person in the room. Her confidence and composure were some of the things Rowan loved about her. But right now, she was hyped up on the medication and the leftover effects of the anesthesia, and she had just tried to prove that she could sing the alphabet backward. She couldn’t.
“Rowan?” she slurred again.
“Yes, Fireheart?” He was really trying not to laugh but seeing his normally composed wife act like she’d just tried smoking pot for the first time, made him desperately wish he’d brought along one of their friends to record her.
Rowan loved Aelin and would do anything for her, but he also would’ve loved to have a video of her now to use as blackmail material.
“Rowan.”
“Aelin.”
“Rowan?”
“Aelin?”
“Rowan. Rowan, Ro…row, row your boat, gently down the stream.” She started humming to a melody only she could hear.
When she finished her song, she asked again, “Rowan?”
He couldn’t stop his chuckling, “Yes? Aelin, what is it?”
“Rowan.” She twisted in her seat to face him, tangling herself more with her seatbelt and wrestling it away before turning to him with an expression way too serious for the moment. “Rowan. I just realized something.”
He watched the light ahead turn red and slowed to a stop before turning towards her with a barely suppressed grin.
“What did you just realize?”
When she took a deep breath, readying herself to share whatever revelation she made, it was almost too difficult to keep a straight face.
“I just realized,” She said slowly, leaning closer to him over the middle console, “that I am desperately in love with you.”
Her eyes bore into his with such a fierce intensity that in any other situation he may have gone to his knees. But right now, sitting in the car with Aelin half-perched on the console, her seatbelt wrapped around her arm like a sling, and drugged-up with medication, all he could do was throw his head back and laugh.
Rowan smiled broadly and his booming laugh filled the car as he began driving again.
However, his smile faltered when he looked back at Aelin who had slipped back to rest against the car door. She was pouting, her lip wobbling, and her eyes glistened with silver.
“Aelin,” He tried to console her through his amusement. “Fireheart, why are you crying?”
Her watery sniff cracked his heart and he lost all of his former laughter.
“I—” she hiccupped through sniffles, “I told you—” hiccup, “I told you that I just—” hiccup, “I just realized—” hiccup, “that I’m in love with you—“, hiccup, sniffle, “and you laughed.”
Fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks and Rowan reached across to grip her shaking hand in his steady, larger one. He interwove their fingers and brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
“Aelin,” He smiled and waited until she looked up at him. “I wasn’t laughing at the sentiment.”
She sniffed again and brought her other hand up to rub her face only to remember that hand was still caught in her twisted seatbelt. She huffed and momentarily forgot she was sad as she tried again to free her arm.
“You weren’t? Then why did you laugh?” She didn’t look weepy anymore, but she still pouted and Rowan dragged his attention from her full lower lip.
Rowan kept an eye on the road as he teased, “I laughed because you said you just realized that. Which I really hope isn’t the case, Fireheart,” he paused to smile cheekily at her, “because we’ve been married for almost a year.”
Still holding her hand, Rowan watched as her face transformed from sullenness to confusion to excitement. She beamed, showing off her bright smile supported by bloody cotton balls.
“We’re married!”
He chuckled and kissed her hand again, “We are, and I’m really glad that was your reaction and not something worse.”
Aelin scoffed as if that was the most insane thing she’d ever heard. “Are you kidding me? You’re a very fine piece of ass, why would I be upset?”
This time, he laughed unrestrained and Aelin kept smiling as she settled back into her seat.
“Rowan?”
He finally pulled into their driveway when he asked, “Yes?”
“I feel good. Like, really good. I feel like I could fly. Can you fly? It’d be so cool if you could fly.” She stared dreamily out the window and he watched fondly as she traced patterns on the glass.
“Come on, Aelin let’s go inside.”
Rowan got out and walked around the car to open her door and help her out.
“Rowan?”
“Yes, Fireheart?” he managed to get her standing, albeit wobblily, and shut the door behind her.
“I want to take a bite out of that ass.” She made grabby hands towards his butt and he gripped her wrists to stop her from reaching around him. “It looks so good. Like a peach.”
Smirking, he pulled her close, “I think you should take a nap.”
When she just stood there and wiggled her eyebrows at him, he huffed a laugh and threw an arm around her waist.
“Let’s go druggie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
She stumbled as they started to walk so Rowan used an arm around her back and under her knees to lift her up into his arms. She squealed but it sounded more like a gurgle with the cotton still in her mouth.
“Okay,” Aelin leaned her head against his chest, “but, tomorrow can I get that ass?”
His chest shook with laughter and jostled her enough to make her grumble.
“Tomorrow, if you’re off the medications, I might even take a bite out of your ass.” He mocked as he walked them into the house.
“You better.” She insisted and rested her head back against his chest
By the time he got to the bedroom, Aelin was already asleep in his arms. She mumbled something he couldn’t make out, but as he tucked her into bed he smiled at his hilarious, exasperating wife.
“It’s a good thing I’m desperately in love with you, too.”
*****
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