#on the other hand i need my wisdom teeth out
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citrusbunnies · 4 months ago
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oh boy do i love finding out a person w a doctorate is an antivaxxer and thinks they cause autism /j
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tender-rosiey · 3 months ago
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Hey I want to request a husband!gojo getting his wisdom teeth pulled out and he is high af from the anesthesia. I just imagine him forgetting everything and starts acting dumb. This would be huge blackmail material for nobara and megumi lol
peacock — gojo satoru x f!reader
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as soon as you step into the recovery room, the sight of him almost makes you burst out laughing. satoru is slouched in the chair, limbs draped over the sides, his usual composed demeanor replaced with utter disarray.
his eyes, free of his blindfold, are dazed and unfocused, those brilliant blue irises practically swimming in confusion.
his cheeks are puffed out comically with gauze, and he’s staring up at the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
when his eyes eventually find you, they widen dramatically, his entire face lighting up like he’s just seen a miracle.
"oh. my. god," he gasps, his voice muffled by the cotton stuffed in his mouth, but his tone is thick with awe and disbelief. “you’re... you're an angel. a real one.”
you bite your lip, barely managing to stifle the laughter bubbling up. “satoru, it’s me,” you say, moving closer to him.
he squints at you, leaning forward so far that he nearly tips over, his eyes narrowing as he’s trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. “wait... we know each other?”
you fight back a smile. “I’m your wife.”
there’s a beat of silence before his eyes widen again, and he jerks back so dramatically that the chair creaks beneath him.
“wife? no way!” he grips the armrests with exaggerated strength, staring at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. “are you serious? we’re married? to each other?”
you giggle as you nod, “for a while now.”
he slumps back, his head rolling to the side with a long, exaggerated groan. his entire body sinks into the chair.
“wow. I did it. I really did it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling again, his eyes unfocused and dazed. “I married the hottest person in the universe. I win at life.”
your lips twitch into a grin, watching him bask in his drugged-out epiphany. “you sure did,” you say, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly.
you move to help him up, sliding your arm around his waist as he wobbles to his feet, legs unsteady like a baby giraffe taking its first steps.
but as you start guiding him toward the door, he plants his feet firmly on the ground, stopping you with a wild-eyed, serious expression. “wait, wait, wait,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab yours with surprising urgency.
his fingers are warm, clumsy in their grip, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that, even through the haze of anesthesia, is so satoru.
his face is scrunched up in deep thought, brows furrowed as though he’s wrestling with the most critical question of his life. “I need to know something... something important.”
you raise an eyebrow, watching him try to focus, his blue eyes narrowing. “okay, what is it?”
“do we... do we kiss?”
you can’t help it—this time, you let out a snort of laughter. “yes, satoru, we kiss. all the time.”
he blinks slowly, his mouth hanging open in awe, eyes sparkling with newfound wonder.
“no way! I knew it. I’m so good at kissing, aren’t I?” he beams, his prideful grin exaggerated by the swollen cheeks, making him look utterly ridiculous. “I knew I was a natural.”
you chuckle, shaking your head as you tighten your hold on him, guiding him toward the exit. “you’re definitely something,” you mutter under your breath.
but, of course, satoru has no intention of walking in a straight line, let alone staying quiet. he stops again, turning his head to you with a deeply perplexed look, like he’s trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe.
“wait… wait… there’s these kids,” he says, gesturing wildly, nearly knocking the clipboard off the counter.
“they’re always hanging around. the loud pink-haired one, the grumpy one, and the one who keeps yelling. who are they? why are they always following me?”
you sigh through a laugh, shaking your head as you guide him forward. “those are your students, satoru. yuuji, megumi, and nobara.”
his face lights up with recognition—or something close to it. “yuuji! yeah, yeah, the kid who talks to everything. I like him. he’s my pokemon.”
you snicker, struggling to keep him upright as he sways like he’s on a boat in the middle of a storm. “he is your student, not a pokemon,” you remind him gently.
he waves his hand dismissively. “nah, nah, he’s my pokemon.”
you shake your head, unable to stop smiling. “sure, satoru. whatever you say.”
“and megumi!” satoru perks up again, his eyes sparkling. “my little emo sunshine. I keep trying to make him smile, but it’s, like, so hard. do you think he’s broken?”
his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer to you. “should we fix him?”
you let out a small laugh, trying to keep him from stumbling as you approach the door. “I think megumi’s just fine, satoru.”
satoru gasps, clutching at your arm. “don’t tell me... he’s also your best friend? is he my rival?”
before you can respond, the door to the recovery room swings open, and standing in the hallway are yuuji, nobara, and megumi.
nobara is the first to spot satoru, her eyes widening before she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubles over.
“oh my god, this is amazing!” nobara cackles, already pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at satoru. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life.”
yuuji grins widely, waving enthusiastically. “sensei! you okay?”
satoru beams at the sight of yuuji, grinning so wide that his swollen cheeks puff out even more.
“yuuji! my pokemon!” he tries to wave but nearly tips over, forcing you to steady him with both hands. “I missed you, man! when did you get here?”
yuuji looks bewildered for a moment. “pokemon?”
nobara is still laughing uncontrollably, already typing on her phone with one hand while recording with the other. “fushiguro, please tell me you’re getting this. this is gold!”
megumi, for his part, just stands there with his arms crossed, a sigh escaping his lips. but you can see the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, a rare sign of amusement.
meanwhile, satoru is now waving his arms around excitedly, turning back to yuuji. “we should totally start a band! you play drums, and I’ll sing. we’ll call it...gojo and the gojos!”
yuuji blinks in surprise, his jaw dropping slightly. “uh, what?”
nobara howls with laughter, her camera still rolling. “oh my god, this is going in the group chat. no, actually, this is going everywhere.”
megumi shakes his head, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters.
you sigh, shaking your head fondly at the absolute circus unfolding around you. “alright, superstar,” you say, gently pulling satoru toward the exit, “let’s get you home before you say anything else you’ll regret.”
satoru grins, his eyes half-lidded but still full of wonder, like he’s just discovered something miraculous. “home? with my wife? yes, please. best. day. ever.”
as you manage to pull satoru a few steps closer to the door, his weight leaning heavily against you, he suddenly halts.
you glance at him, bracing yourself for another round of his ridiculous, anesthesia-fueled revelations, but nothing—nothing—could prepare you for what comes next.
“wait,” he says, his voice low and serious, as if he's about to share the most critical, world-altering secret.
his glassy eyes look at you intensely, filled with wild determination. “I need to do something important before we leave.”
you blink at him, confused. “satoru, what could you possibly—”
before you can finish your sentence, he dramatically pulls away from you, somehow managing to stand on his own. with the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, he wobbles toward the center of the room, ignoring your protests.
“satoru—”
he shushes you loudly, a single finger pressed to his lips as he glances over his shoulder, his expression way too serious for someone who can’t walk straight.
“shhh. this is between me and the universe.”
you exchange a bewildered look with yuuji, who’s still watching in awe, nobara recording every second, and megumi now sighing deeply, clearly bracing himself for whatever absurdity satoru is about to unleash.
then, with absolutely no warning, satoru starts unbuttoning his shirt.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you yelp, rushing forward to stop him, but you’re too late.
he rips his shirt open dramatically, buttons flying everywhere, revealing his bandaged, puffy cheeks, along with his very confused, bare chest.
“satoru—oh my god—”
but he’s not done. no, of course he’s not. he thrusts his arms out to the side, chest puffed out proudly, and yells at the top of his lungs:
“I AM A PEACOCK, WATCH ME SOAR!”
the room falls into stunned silence for a moment. nobara freezes mid-recording, mouth hanging open in disbelief, while yuuji’s jaw drops, eyes wide with sheer awe.
megumi, however, just buries his face in his hands.
“I cannot believe I know this man,” megumi mutters under his breath, his tone one of deep regret.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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I'd love a wisdom tooth with Hotch; I got mine removed last Saturday and I'm in pain 🥲
You should’ve had your wisdom teeth out years ago, but you couldn’t afford it. When Aaron suggested you get them removed after a particularly embarrassing bout of pain, you’d been honest with him: you still couldn’t afford it. Stuff kept going wrong, your car would break down, or your landlord would hike the rent, and you didn’t have enough saved up to do it without worry. 
So he pays for it. You don’t ask him to, you fight him on it, but he hates seeing you in pain. 
“You’re my hero,” you say, mumbling through gauze. “Generous hero.”
“It’s not generosity,” he says, reaching across the console of the car to catch your hand, “try not to touch your mouth.” 
“I feel dizzy.” 
“I know, honey. Can take some more deep breaths for me?” 
He suspects you’re not only dizzy, but overstimulated. You take a few deep breaths, and then you say, “That’s so nice.” 
“What is?” he asks, regretful as he takes the steering wheel into both hands and turns the car onto the next road. 
You’re his sweetheart, he means that firmly, and he’d do much more than pay for your dental surgery. You’ve been very honest with him about how grateful you are. It’s uncomfortable —you shouldn’t have needed his assistance, how unfair it is that you couldn’t afford it alone— but it’s sweet, too, to see your thankfulness manifesting itself while you aren’t entirely yourself. 
“You calling me honey.” 
“You think it’s old-fashioned.” 
“You’re super old-fashioned.”
“That’s not very nice,” he teases. “I remember when we first met, you were so nice and polite. Now you’re abrasive.” 
“I am not!”
“You’re cruel to me. What should I do about it?” 
“Nothing.” 
Aaron reaches over again to grab your thigh. “Nothing? That’s typical.” He pulls your leg toward him, and he gives the soft inside a squeeze you aren’t expecting. You laugh like a kid being tickled.
“You’re just bullying me while I’m defenceless.” 
“Is that what you are?” he asks, rubbing the length of leg he’d squeezed apologetically. “You can be mean to me for now, then, but when you’re feeling better we’re going to have to have a talk about where my nice girl went.” 
You make a sound that’s half excitement and half panic. “Do you mind?” 
He’s being a little much, sure, but you’d been swaying toward overwhelmed a few minutes ago. He figures some tough love will keep and hold your attention before you can remember the pain. “I don’t mind.” He pats your leg with his fingers, frowning when you shiver. “Are you cold?” he asks worriedly. 
“I’m freezing.” 
Luckily for you, you’re home. Aaron parks the car and gets out swiftly to retrieve you, fonder now that he can see up close. You aren’t as out of it as you’d been to begin with, recognition and light in your eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt and he offers his hand. “Thanks,” you say, ducking out of the car with a little wobble, “I’m still dizzy, can you–”
“I’ve got you,” he says, hand braced more roughly than he means to at your elbow. 
It’s more of the same inside. You’re unsteady on your feet, he has to grab you to keep you standing, but he gets you into the kitchen at your request. His first port of call is a blanket for you. 
As he wraps it around your shoulders, he’s sure the anaesthesia is entirely worn off. You meet his gaze with an undeniable love. It’s in every line of your face. 
“Thank you,” you say. 
“You know I’m just kidding when I say you aren’t nice.” 
You nod. 
“Because you are,” he says. Looking after you isn’t generosity, it’s self-preservation. He’s found you, sweet and loving as you are, his match in teasing and seriousness alike. He has no intention of treating you with anything other than the utmost care. “Are you warm enough now? It’s a common side effect of sedation, the coldness. Your dizziness, too. It’ll feel better soon.” 
“Can I take this gauze out? I feel silly.” 
“If your gums aren’t bleeding anymore.” 
You haven’t had to spit, so you’ll be alright. Aaron washes his hands, has the honour of removing your gauze and witnessing your odd stitch, which he throws away to wash his hands again. Then he wets a cloth for you to wipe your face. It’s perhaps the uglier side of loving someone and looking after them, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. You’re just as lovely to him as you were yesterday, minus a few troublesome teeth. 
“Your cheek is swelling,” he says, stroking the line of your jaw carefully. 
“Well, you can’t stop liking me now. Then this surgery would be a total waste.” 
He laughs. “What do you mean?” he asks, tipping your chin up. 
“You pay for me to have no toothache and then we break up? It doesn’t make any sense.” 
“It makes zero sense. You’ve invented a scenario where I’d leave you,” he smiles like an idiot, “and that timeline doesn’t exist.” 
You close your eyes. He kisses your nose, weary of your soreness. 
“Timeline,” you mumble. 
“Oh, you have something to say? Let’s hear it.” 
You laugh and push him away. “I don’t have anything to say to you.” 
Unfortunately for you, Aaron has no intentions of being pushed away from you. He leans over to give you a hug and a kiss pressed to your temple, his hand feeling a path against the ridge of your shoulder. “Please tell me if I hurt you, I know your face is sensitive,” he says. 
You settle in his arms. “No, this is nice.” 
He presses another kiss atop the first one. 
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silkjade · 11 months ago
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MIDNIGHT VICES
alhaitham x reader ⤀ synopsis: a year older, and none the wiser… doesn’t the birthday boy know not to mix his alcohol ? as alhaitham grows incessantly needy, he sneaks you away for a quickie behind the tavern ⤀ cw: fem!reader, established relationship, drunk sex (more of a buzz + everything is consensual), unprotected + rough sex, fingering, creampie, exhibitionism, very sweet — mdni || ꒰ 2.5k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: it is still feb.11 in my time so happy birthday to the loml ! ♡ slightly selfship coded, prev titled ‘places we won’t be found’
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10 minutes before the clock strikes twelve, Alhaitham takes note as you slip away from his side with a quick kiss to his cheek, promising to return in haste. 2 minutes before the clock strikes twelve, you return with a round of shots for the table—Snezhnayan firewater, of course.
“And an extra for the birthday boy,” you tease, sliding the remaining glass towards your ashen-haired boyfriend. 
And thus, at midnight of his birthday, Alhaitham takes two shots of firewater—and in the 10 minutes it takes for the liquor to mix with the wine already in his system, he realizes that his wisdom has yet to catch up with his age. Because despite turning a year older, he feels none the wiser when you sidle up to him so nonchalantly, as if every brush of your bare skin on his, isn’t crackling with electricity that makes his hairs stand on end. As if he doesn’t wish to drag his tongue and teeth down the curvature of your neck and shoulders. As if you were not the direct cause of the lecherous, alcohol-induced thoughts forming in his head or the tightness quickly growing in his pants. 
Beneath the table, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers in his. You smile into the rim of your drink; Alhaitham has always been clingier in private, and even more so with a drink or three in him. Leaning over, you rest your head on his broad shoulder, turning just a smidgen to press a kiss into the mottled flush of his skin, but it only makes the throbbing worse. 
Maybe—no—it was definitely due to the influence of that firewater, but it’s a thrum like no other. He cannot think, he cannot will it away, he cannot ignore it. Frustrated, he squeezes your hand, just a semblance of a warning before guiding you to his crotch, showing you just what you’ve done. I need you, his actions say, coughing to stifle the grunt that escapes when you inadvertently palm him through his pants. 
You blink, eyes wide in revelation. Ah. 
“I think I need some air,” you lie. “Haitham, would you accompany me?”
Though really, it’s Alhaitham who’s dragging you out the back door of the tavern, where you’re immediately herded until your back is pressed flat against the wall, and your lover’s lips find their place firmly against your own, the lingering notes of wine still apparent on his tongue as you follow his lead. He’s bolder than usual, uncaring of who might turn the corner, and hungrier in his kisses, biting, tugging at your lip for an audience with your tongue, entitled in the way he steals the breath from right out of your lungs, as if it were his air to breathe in the first place. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, treating his veins like marionette strings, but you’ve lit a fever in his belly and he’s resolute to soothe the heat fogging in his head. 
You’re no better as your nails graze down his chest, one hand scrambling to undo his pants, while the other slips beneath the opening, working along the hard length of his cock, pumping his shaft, and glossing over the leaking tip until he bucks into your fist, groaning, because a handjob just isn’t enough. 
The grip on your waist tightens—pulling you in, ever closer until your hips are aligned, and you can feel how his standing erection rubs against your belly, wordlessly asking for something more. One of his hands roams further down: smoothing over every curve your body offers, but only settling upon the underside of your thigh, slowly oscillating up and down over your tender flesh. It’s not long before you feel his touch slide higher, up past the edges of your skirt, fingers hooked between the waistband of your panties.
Elegant, romantic… Alhaitham knows you’re well versed in his preference of lingerie, knows that he could quite confidently, recognize each pair by touch alone… and so he notices when something feels different—the pattern alien to the very fingertips that have traced and memorized the details of every piece you own. And though the alcohol has burned through the last remnants of his inhibitions, the pleasant buzz in his veins surges anew, and the lace material shifts as he feeds into his earthly desires—tugging the flimsy cloth down just an inch, then pausing as if to ask permission before tearing the little thing apart.
“Are these new?”
You whine at the halt in his movements, wriggling and grinding your hips so that maybe he’d get the hint to touch you again. “Was supposed to be a surprise,” you breathe.
And though he has yet to lay eyes on your salaciously thoughtful gesture, Alhaitham hums low in his throat, delighted. “Then I can’t wait to unwrap you later,” he whispers into your ear, trailing wet kisses down the sides of your neck, and leaving you to shiver in his wake. 
Alhaitham is not a frugal man by any means, but he’d never let a gift like that go to waste… so he’ll try to be careful, he tells himself, for he dares not make it a promise. Between the alcohol swirling in his head, and your familiarly pavlovian scent, there lies a nebulous cloud of lust and want, blowing air directly into the heart of the fire, urgently demanding him to quell the almost painful erection that threatens his good sense. 
Still though, he tries—willing himself to untangle his fingers from the gossamer threads, opting to migrate just a bit further south, comfortably cupping his large hand around your dripping cunt, thumb rubbing firm circles onto your clit, from across the lace. Hips jerking, your arms tighten around his neck, fingers lacing a crown in his head as you hug him close, crushing your lips back against his in the hopes it’d muffle the whimpers begot from the sudden spike in stimulation. 
At your wordless insistence, two deft fingers swiftly push your panties to the side, running back and forth, feeling the wetness between your folds, as more kisses line across the edge of your jaw, down the column of your throat, and in the spot at the juncture of your neck, where he knows you’re most sensitive. 
“I want you,” he mutters, jagged breaths painting an irregular warmth onto your skin, like droplets of cold fire that melt into your flesh, teasing arousal to twist and churn in your belly until it breaks through the barrier, leaking out of your cunt and coating his fingers in your slick.
“You have me,” you promise. 
Without warning, his digits slip through the threshold, immediately beginning his campaign within. You buck at the sudden, but welcome intrusion—tipping your head back against the wall, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut, as a quiet, stuttered gasp sounds from your lips. 
Alhaitham fucks you harsh and fast—sloppy, though that’s not to say it isn’t without his usual precision. The way the pads of his fingers rub upon all your hidden ridges, and how his knuckles angle to brush against all the right spots—every twist and curl is deliberate, every movement a tribute in working you wet and open, until you’re lightheaded, and rocking into his slender digits, desperately in need of something more. 
Adjusting his position, he digs the heel of his palm against your clit, mercilessly bullying the nub until the rough sensation draws a low moan as you clench around him. Liquid fire continues to run its course, and then again and again through your veins, and you’re unable to fathom how your legs could still possibly be standing. By your trembling alone, you’re sure you’ve already melted to putty in his hands. 
“H-haitham—please…” You all but moan as he crooks his fingers again, once more prodding where you need him most, before drawing out, ignoring the way your cunt clenches and sobs, begging him not to go.
But he too, is eager to remedy the loss, and you’re quick to feel it by way of the thick tip—far wider than a mere couple fingers—lined against your entrance. Guided by the hand still on your thigh, you wrap a leg around his waist, locking him in close, as he breaches beyond your sticky folds, plunging his cockhead home into your silken insides.
Alhaitham swallows your moans for you, slotting his mouth onto yours, deepening his kiss just as he deepens his cock, easily slipping to the hilt in spite of the stretch. He starts moving immediately, long thrusts, powerful and relentless as he slams in and out of your hole, desperate and haphazard and messy. There’s little time to waste in this indeterminate window of privacy, but he cannot help but savor the way your cunt rejoices with every drag of his cock, grasping onto every inch, every vein. You’re so tight when you squeeze around him like that, trying to milk him for all he’s worth, and at this point, he’s quite sure that no amount of alcohol could intoxicate him the way you do. 
His tongue in your mouth, his cock in your cunt—all your senses seem to be overridden by alhaitham. The subtle spice of harra fruit in his cologne, the sweet notes of wine still lingering on his tongue. The wisps of hot breath as he pants and groans quietly beside your ear, and the bruising grip on your ass and thighs, digging into your skin, guiding your other leg to, too, wrap itself around his waist so that you’d fall ever deeper onto his length. 
Haitham! Haitham! Haitham! Your mind churns up a cacophony in your head, screaming in lieu of what your voice dares not utter so close within the vicinity of the public eye. But holding it all in does nothing, except heighten your sensitivity, both that of tangible and intangible nature. 
You feel as if you’re about to burst at the seams, because how lucky you are that even in his inebriation, your lover still fucks you so well, like a beast in rut—careless, merciless, but you’re so, so full. Your lashes flutter with tears, opening the gates for a litany of soft mewls and whimpers to escape out of the depths of your throat, unwilling to be silenced.
“Any louder and someone might notice,” he whispers, nipping at the skin beneath your ear as he teases you with a playful chide. “It’s a packed house tonight.”
Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it’d be enough to muffle your moans because there’s no way you can suppress anything any longer—not when Alhaitham can feel your walls convulse at the threat of discovery, and especially not as he further feeds into the not-so-distant fantasy. 
“Unless that’s what you want,” he rasps, shifting you on his hips. “For someone to stumble out the tavern, find you fucked out. Cockdrunk. Exposed…”
With each word, he makes sure to follow with a soul rattling thrust, letting gravity do its work as he prods even deeper, sinking you further into a delirious haze. But you shake your head no as you bury your face in the juncture of his neck, sobs racking through your body, more slick gushing from your hole. Your hand, previously clamped over your mouth, now joins the other as it digs into the flesh of his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
“Only want you to,” you hiccup, pausing to break, singing gasps as his languid strokes hit a particularly delicate spot. “Only wan’ y-you to see me like this.” 
And the wires in his head short-circuit in the drunken pool of his thoughts, clearly pleased at the fact that you share his sentiments. Because he should be the only one to ever lay eyes on this lascivious sight. Cheeks flushed, imprints dappled about your skin, cunt split open, stuffed full of his cock, from the fat tip all the way down to its even girthier base… He could care less who happens upon the grand scribe engaging in such perversions; the worst case scenario is but public discourse. You however, well…he isn’t one keen to share in his gifts.
“Then cum for me,” he coos, and he shifts his hand between your bodies, searching for, and stroking your clit as he finds it—until you’re writhing in his arms, between he and the wall, thighs quivering around his waist as you cum and clench and release around his cock. 
Your chest heaves, hugging your lover close, chin digging into the dimple that sits on the back of his shoulder. His thrusts grow uneven, stuttering as he too, fractures into his own high. Ribbons of his cum run hot as he fills your insides, cock pulsing with each spurt that paints your walls with his seed. The two of you stay like this for a minute, hearts syncing between the breathless wake, panting in the warm afterglow of two bodies strained, breaths mingling into something sweet. 
“We should—” He starts, breathless.
“Before someone sees us,” you interrupt, nodding at what you can only assume would be the most logical end to this tryst. 
But Alhaitham only lets out an airy chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to the crest of your cheekbone, before resting his forehead against yours. “I was going to say we should stay like this a little longer.” 
“Oh? Did one birthday suddenly turn you into a romantic?” you tease, yelping as the hand still gripping your ass pinches at the soft flesh. 
“I’m always romantic.”
“That’s debatable,” you quip back, “But…since it’s your birthday, I suppose I must agree that you are the most romantic man in all of sumeru.”
“Not all of Teyvat?” Alhaitham smirks, and you can’t help but melt, giggling as you kiss at the crooked corner of his lips. His hold loosens as he begins to untangle your limbs, snapping those new lace panties back into place, and setting you down gently, though never fully letting go until he’s sure you can stand, albeit on wobbling fawn legs. 
It takes little time for him to redo the buckle of his pants, and even less for him to notice the nefariously lecherous state he’s left you in: your hair’s a mess, clothes wrinkled, lipstick smeared upon kiss-swollen lips. And who could ignore the drying stains of your cum and slick staining your thighs, or the white trails of his cum leaking out from your folds, slowly making its way down the insides of your legs.
“You should head back in first. I…need to clean up a bit, clearly,” you mumble, but Alhaitham only scoffs. As if he’d ever allow anyone in that tavern to see you in such a state. His fingers reach for the sharp end of your chin, tilting your face up towards him, and drawing your doe-eyed gaze back into his orbit. If he remembers your words correctly…
“I want to be the only one to see you like this,” he murmurs. “So let’s go home. And if I recall, you still owe me a surprise, no?”
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notes2: wrote this in one day so it’s not my best T^T and it's far from optimal posting time, but i wanted to post while it's still alhaitham's birthday in my timezone :'D anyways, thank you for reading, and as always, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated ! ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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ersatz-ostrich · 5 months ago
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DBH Headcanons: Getting Your Wisdom Teeth Removed
Connor, RK900, Markus, Simon, and Gavin x gn!reader
Some headcanons about what it would be like to be taken care of by some of the characters of Detroit: Become Human while recovering from getting your wisdom teeth removed. Inspired by, well, getting my wisdom teeth removed.
[A/N]: I got my wisdom teeth out a while back and it honestly wasn't as bad as I'd heard from other people. My mouth tasted funny for a while, though.
Connor:
Chances are, you’ve already briefed him on your wisdom teeth procedure and everything that happens before and after
By the time the actual surgery rolls around, he’s downloaded every bit of information about pre-op and post-op
And he’s not going to hesitate to bother you remind you about everything
“Don’t forget to wear comfortable shoes and clothing.” “Y/N, you can’t have any food or water 8 hours before the surgery.” “Y/N, please refrain from strenuous exercise in the 24 hours before your surgery.”
When you come out of surgery loopy on anesthesia, he sits with you in recovery and tries to talk you through it (even though you don’t remember a lick of what either of you said)
I’d say he’s a mother hen post-op, but more like a worrywart type
He’d buy all kinds of liquid foods for you and is constantly asking about your pain levels
Gets a lot of weird looks in the supermarket while he’s checking out the soup aisle
“That’s not a domestic android I’ve ever seen…”
He’s definitely on top of your antibiotics schedule, and if you need it, pain meds
Makes sure you’re regularly irrigating the wounds if you need it 
If you’re ever worried or insecure about swelling and discomfort post-op, Connor is there to smother you in kisses
Nines:
As a deviant, he isn’t as much of a mother hen as Connor, probably because he’s more self-assured in his ability to take care of you as well as your ability to take care of yourself when you can
He wouldn’t hover as much as Connor but he’d definitely download information about the procedure before you go
Coming out of the operation, you knock out again for a bit in recovery and Nines insists on staying with you, covering you with his jacket and letting you rest your head on his shoulder
If Connor got weird looks while in the supermarket buying things for you and picking up your prescriptions, Nines sticks out like a sore thumb
Like he’s clearly not a domestic/service android so he confuses a lot of shoppers and employees as he browses the aisles and fills his basket with cans of soup, oats, and ice cream
“Why on earth is a police investigator android buying soup on a Friday morning?”
If you’re in pain, he’ll do everything to comfort you
Pain meds, ice cream, cuddles, your comfort movies and shows, anything for you
He doesn’t seem outwardly clingy or affectionate but he’s such a softy
Markus:
This obviously isn’t his first rodeo
If you’re scared going into the surgery, he’s with you all the way until the nurses put you to sleep
Cruises through post-op no matter what state you’re in due to the sedative
At home, he’s got you covered
No need to break out the cans of mush—he’s got you covered with homemade soups, the softest scrambled eggs you’ve ever had, soft pasta dishes, you name it
With Markus, you’ll never miss a dose of antibiotics
If you’re in pain, worry not
Markus has your pain meds, blankets, and infinite cuddles
He’ll have your favorite flavors of ice cream on hand
Straight out of the tub if you feel so inclined
Simon:
He might not be a caregiver like Markus but he was once a domestic and childcare android
Calms your nerves going into the operation and when you’re all woozy post-op he’s right by your side
Coming out of the operation, it doesn’t matter if you look like if Alvin the Chipmunk got into a fistfight and lost—Simon’s there to shower you in kisses and envelop you in hugs
Like Markus, you’ll never have to worry about the liquid and soft food diet
If the pain’s too much, Simon will be your arms and legs for the time being
He’s a wizard with chores and errands
It’s like you never even got your wisdom teeth out
Gavin:
Would totally take off work to help you recover
Which, given how competitive he is at work, would probably seem like an anomaly to his coworkers
“I’ve never seen Reed take off for more than a day or two at a time. Shit, he’d come into work sick so long as he wasn’t actively dying,��� Says Tina
“I’ve had to wrangle that fucker into his car more times than I can count to prevent him from coming into work injured,” Grumbles Fowler
“Hopefully he’ll take this time to rest as well as take care of someone else.”
Would record the stuff you say coming out of sedative in post-op for the memories (and for you both to laugh at when you recover)
I don’t see him being as great of a cook as Markus or Simon, but he’s definitely able to cook to support himself and you
Of course, he’d get you all the ice cream you want
He knows what it feels like to be in pain and cranky so he does everything he can to either comfort you or give you space to get through it
If you wanted it, he’d cuddle with you while you spend the day reading or watching your comfort shows and sipping on smoothies (no straws allowed, of course)
To anyone getting their wisdom teeth out soon, good luck! To anyone recovering from the surgery, feel better soon! Hope you enjoyed reading this silly little compilation of HCs! See you next time x
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thought--bubble · 6 months ago
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When he Breaks
Modern Aemond X (ex GF) reader
Word Count: 3,098
Note* This was written for @targaryen-dynasty's 3K celebration! (Congratulations my love you deserve it all!)
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Modern Aemond Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Dividers and banners by @arcielee
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Warnings:Toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, swearing, smut (fingering female receiving)
Four months should have been enough time. Should have been enough time to completely move on from the two-year whirlwind that was your relationship with the ever-elusive Aemond Targaryen.
Your relationship with Aemond Targaryen was difficult to put it mildly. You had tried. Really tried to make it work, but like with most things, there comes a time when things have simply run their course.
Aemond could be sweet, yet mostly, he was cold, closed off, and angry.
Aemond does not simply feel angry. He embodies anger. With each step he takes, he carries it around with him, like a festering wound he refuses to treat lest he forget the injustices he has suffered.
The smallest things could set him off, a harmless joke from his brother or his nephew simply breathing the same air.
the issue between him and his nephew, Luke, was simple enough to understand. You always thought it so tragic how an unfortunate childhood accident could tear a family apart at the seams. The accident had left Aemond blind in one eye, and as far as Aemond saw it, no one had ever paid for it. No one ever suffered for it, no one but Aemond that is.
His hate and anger ruled his life. It seeped into every facet of his being. Even being his girlfriend was not a shield from his rage.
This anger would come to a head when he ruined his father's birthday celebration, potentially the last one his sick ailing father would have. When he stood up and gave a toast insulting his nephews and calling his sister a whore, albeit using a roundabout way to say it. The ensuing physical altercation between Aemond and his other nephew, Jace, had been the final straw for you. No more would you live with this angry man. This powder keg that is just waiting to explode, this dragon grinding his jaw and salivating at any chance to tear apart those he saw as his enemies.
So, when you showed up for Helaena's birthday, a house party, Aegon is throwing. You were concerned about seeing Aemond for the first time since your split. You were over him. At least that's what you told yourself, and you believed it.
Until you walked in to see him, sitting on the sofa, cigarette in hand, smile on his face, and an arm around Floris' shoulders.
Floris Baratheon, a sweet little thing. Not a cruel bone in her body. The absolute visceral response you had to the scene was unexpected, yet you made sure to control your facial expression. You could not let him see you vulnerable or weak.
Yes, you were done with Aemond. You no longer wanted Aemond, but you did not approve of him to move on. To have someone else.
As you watch him sitting with Floris from across the crowded room of Aegon's flat, you feel your anger bubbling up. Four months, and he was already flirting about with a simpleton like Floris Baratheon? Had you meant so little to him?
You jump slightly as Helaena sneaks up next to you as you lean against the breakfast bar, drink in hand.
Helaena has always had this uncanny ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere, with words of wisdom or nonsense. It truly was luck of the draw.
"There is no need to fight for what you don't want, just because someone else may want it." She muses thoughtfully.
"I'm not fighting for anything," you snap back. "She wants to deal with all of that. She's welcome to him."
"Hmmm," the light hum of Helaena's voice, usually a soothing sound, grates on your nerves.
"The two of you are more alike than either of you realize."
Your head instantly whips to the side, your eyes narrowed. "We are nothing alike," you hiss through gritted teeth.
Helaena simply hums in response before grabbing herself a wine cooler off the counter. "I hope you find some way to enjoy the evening."
"Hey," you call out behind her as she starts to walk away.
She turns and looks at you, with nothing but softness in her lavender eyes.
"Happy Birthday" You give her a weak smile.
"It will be entertaining, at least," she says dreamily before gliding off to welcome more of her friends who had just arrived.
With Helaena's final words lingering in your head, you knock back the drink in your hand and place the empty cup back on the counter.
Revenge is Aemond's favorite pastime. An obsession you have berated him for time and time again, yet here you stand, watching his faux gentleness that he seems intent on displaying for the fawn of a girl that sits beside him and all you can feel is the hunger inside you, willing you to take a bite out of him, sating that need for revenge of your own.
Aemond looks over at you briefly before his eye flickers back to Floris, carrying on their quiet conversation, which, from what you could gather, looked more like Floris speaking incessantly and Aemond, with his false patience, listening intently, or at least pretending to.
"What are ya drinking ya tart!" Aegon slurs as he leans over the counter, mixing himself another drink.
"Had a whiskey, looking for something else, though." You let your words trail off as your eyes search the countertop.
When you finally find the bowl of cherries, you turn to Aegon and bat your lashes. "Make me a tart cherry? You were always the best at making them. " You offer him a sweet smile as you lean over the counter. The short black dress you have on hardly concealing your rear.
"Ahh! A tart for a tart!" Aegon chuckles as he starts to make the drink, spilling liqueur all about the countertop.
You roll your eyes, careful not to let Aegon see. He's an idiot, but tonight, you will make him a useful idiot because leading Aegon is as simple as being kind for a fleeting moment.
"I may just be a tart tonight," you chuckle suggestively, taking the drink from Aegon's hand, slowly sipping at the contents. You can question a lot of things about Aegon. Pretty much everything about Aegon. But not his ability to make a strong drink.
"Let's sit. Catch up. We haven't spoken in quite some time. " You take Aegon by the hand and drag him to the sofa situated directly across from Aemond and Floris before Aegon has any chance to object.
"Right! OK then!" Aegon plops down on the sofa, his drink sloshing over the sides of his cup.
You slowly lower yourself down beside him, careful to make sure your dress rides up your thigh just enough so that the thickest part of your thigh is exposed to both Aegon and Aemond's lecherous glares.
"So Aegon," you place your hand on his thigh, gently running your hand up and down in a soothing motion. "How have you been?"
Aegon doesn't even respond before you feel the burn of Aemond's steely eye burrowing into the side of your face.
Aegon looks down at your hand on his thigh briefly before a lazy smile spreads across his face. "Good, grand actually," he answers as he scoots closer to you.
This is going to be easier than you thought. You could always count on Aegon and his never-quenched thirst for physical affection.
When Aegon lowers his voice to a seductive growl as he explains what he has been up to since the last time you spoke, you tune him out.
Your main concern was your body movements, now that you know Aemond's eye is on you. He is a complex man yet, still just a man.
You cross one leg over the other, your short dress riding up just a tad bit higher. You work hard to conceal the grin that fights to spread across your face as you can hear Aemond across from you uncomfortably shifting in his seat.
"Hmmm," you feign interest as Aegon goes on about passing all of his classes at uni this semester. Something he is most proud of given the unlikelihood of such a feat.
You pluck one of the cherries floating around your drink and slide it slowly past your lips and suck on it. You have yet to spare Aemond a single glance but are fully aware that his eye hasn't left you since you sat down.
"You ummm really like that cherry?" Aegon asks with a mixture of amusement and lust.
"I do," you answer, your voice soft and slow.
"Are you gonna ummm... eat it? Or just uhhh suck on it?" Aegon shifts even closer with this question, leaving almost no space between you.
"It's so sweet.... and a bit tart.... I want to enjoy it fully before I toss it away" You pull the cherry part way from your mouth, circling the small fruit with your tongue before biting through it with your front teeth, the juices dripping down your lip to your chin.
"Fuuuuck," Aegon whispers, his eyes trained on the trail of cherry juice as it reaches your chin.
"Whoops" You collect the juice around your mouth with your fingertip before popping it in your mouth and sucking the juice off.
You can hear Floris babbling about something and find joy in the fact that Aemond has seemed to have stopped responding to her.
Aegon brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing at the flesh there.
"Wanna go outside? Smoke a fag? Just... you and me?"
You go to respond but are cut off by Aemond, who is suddenly choking on his drink loudly.
You finally look over at him, his purple eye a ring of fire. There's all that rage, all that anger, what had driven you away seemed so pretty now.
"Are you alright?" You ask with a tone that's smooth like butter.
Aegon laughs loudly. "Seems my brother has chosen a drink that is too strong for him. This is something he does often. Here Aemond, give me your drink. " Aegon holds his hand out to Aemond. "I will drink it; I am typically able to handle the things thar are too tough for you." Aegon's eyes flit to you on his last word, and you smile at him.
"Is that so? That's a good thing to know." You stand up slowly, placing your nearly empty cup down on the coffee table. "I'm going to run to the rest room and then I'll meet you outside for that fag."
"Smashing" Aegon rises from his seat as you turn your back and walk off toward the restroom, each step calculated to make sure you sway your hips just the way you know Aemond likes it.
When you're done in the bathroom, you open the door to make your way outside, but instead of the empty hallway you expected, Aemond is leaning in the doorway. His shoulder pressed against the wood frame, his blonde bangs covering his bad eye.
"Having a laugh, are ya?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
"A laugh?" You feign complete ignorance. "Sure, I've had a laugh or two. It's been a lovely evening. " You flash him a sweet smile and then move to the side, attempting to walk around him.
"A lovely evening?" He places his hand on your chest, pushing you backward into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
"A lovely evening of flirting with my whore of a brother?" His voice is calm, not at all in sync with the tension of his shoulders as he towers over you.
"Well, that is an unkind thing to say. I was merely catching up with a friend." You push his arm from your chest, a movement with which he does not fight. "Who is currently waiting on me outside, so if you don't mind ..."
You again move to walk around him.
"I do, in fact, mind. Do you think this is a game? To tease me all night while using my idiot brother as a pawn?" He snarls, bringing his hands to your waist, his digits clenching around you.
"I have not teased you," you smirk at him. "If you would like me to tease you.  ..." You stand on your tippy toes, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I can certainly do that."
You watch with fascination as his skin prickles and his grip around your waist tightens. "Do not"
You smile knowing you have him now, that cold stoic man that is Aemond Targaryen is putty in your hands, and it hardly took any work at all.
You bring your lips to the softness of his neck, just close enough so that your warm breath skates across his skin. "Do not? Oh, Aemond, you sound so serious when you say it like that."
His breath hitches as you chuckle, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips dancing across his toned stomach.
"You're playing a dangerous game, love," he hisses, his grip on your sides growing tighter, creating a pleasant ache.
"My favorite type of game." You run the tip of your nose up the side of his neck while your hands find purchase on the buttons of his expensive button-down shirt.
"Did I make you angry, my darling?" You ask, a teasing lilt to your tone as you slowly pop out button after button.
A sound comes from his chest, a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, a sound that is completely Aemond. "And why should I be angry? Hmm?"
As you pop out the final button on his shirt, his hand slides into the base of your hair, gripping tight and pulling your head back. "A whore will do as a whore will do, there is nothing to be gained by being angry about it."
"A whore? Is that how you think of me now? A few simple months is all it took for your blood to turn to bile in my presence as well?"
You don't fight his grip. In fact, you crave it. He pushes you up against the sink vanity, lifting you up by your thigh, his other hand never leaving your hair.
"You left me, you betrayed me, like they all do," he nips along your jawline while grinding his hardness up against your heat.
"I left. I did not betray" you argue between pants. The friction of Aemond's movements against your heat, building a pressure in your lower stomach, a fire that gets slightly bigger with each rut.
"Same thing," he reaches under your dress, running his fingers over the damp cloth that is the only thing keeping his fingers from your heated flesh. "You don't want me, but you melt in my hands, like a dirty little whore."
A smile crosses your face, and you close your eyes as he slips his fingers underneath the flimsy cloth of your thong. Circling your nub with quick aggressive strokes.
"So quiet now? Where is that girl I know with the big mouth, hmm?"
You moan loudly as he slips two fingers into your slick entrance.
"Ahhh, there she is," Aemond begins rutting his fingers into you at a quick and brutal pace.
You try to lower your head back down. The need to feel his lips on yours feels like a burning ache.
"Oh no. You don't get to kiss me. No." He brings his thumb to your engorged clit while his fingers continue their relentless pace.
"Whores don't kiss me. They cum on my fingers, when I say so." He growls as he nibbles down the side of your throat, his hand not slowing its pace.
The heat that has been building in your stomach becomes all consuming, your legs involuntarily stretch further apart, and your mouth hangs open wide. "Aemond, Aemond," you pant, each stroke of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to that blissful edge.
"Begging for me again, what a beautiful sound. Cum for me little slut. Cum for me now." He nips on your ear and pushes his thumb down on your clit while continuing to rub his small, rough circles.
Your eyes remain on the bathroom ceiling as the mix of pleasure, heat, and even a little pain continue to rise rapidly with each of Aemond's movements.
"That's fuck... that's it" you dig your fingernails into the skin of his back as you are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, numbness temporarily traveling from your toes and up your legs as if the only feeling your body was capable of registering at this time was this feeling.
He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, his one eye watching you intently as you finish riding out your high.
Without a word, he begins to button his shirt back up.
"So that's it then?" You ask frustrated at his cool and cold demeanor.
"Well, Floris is back on the sofa waiting for me and Aegon is waiting on you for that fag which...." he looks you up and down, a smug smile creeping onto his face " I assume you really do need now...."
The feeling of pleasure that had been swirling around your body is instantly replaced with a red-hot rage. "So, you return to Floris, and I return to Aegon?" You hop down from the vanity hastily fixing your clothes and patting down your hair.
You push past him, wrenching the bathroom door open to see Aegon in the hallway.
"Oh, sod off!" Aegon huffs in annoyance. "I knew you were using me to make him jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't go all Aemond on you before I actually got something out of it." He starts to stumble back down the hallway.
"Aegon, wait!" You begin to chase after him when Aemond grips your shoulder.
"Looks like your plans have fallen through."
You quickly shift out of his grasp. "Easy enough to make new plans."
"Go outside. Have your fag and I'll be there in 10 minutes" he says calmly walking past you back toward the living room.
"What?" You call out to his retreating form.
"I have to at least let Floris know I'm leaving. It's the polite thing to do after all."
"Leaving?" You ask incredulously.
Aemond sighs, turning back to look at you. "Yes, leaving. There is a heavier punishment you must suffer for your betrayal.... and I can't very well inflict that upon you in a fucking bathroom."
He turns away from you again, walking quickly. "Ten minutes, love. Give me ten minutes"
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moonstruckme · 4 days ago
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hi mae!!! i absolutely love your writing and am evidently irrevocably in love with wolfstar. i just got my wisdom teeth taken out, and i know you already wrote something for poly!marauders with that, but could i request something for poly!wolfstar taking care of reader a few days after? so less loopy and more pain with lots of fluff and cuddles! feel free to ignore, love you darling!
Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you feel better soon <3
cw: allusion to chronic pain
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 627 words
“Hello,” Sirius says when the front door shushes open. He starts to fold over the page of his magazine. He hardly catches a bit of motion from the corner of his eye before you’re flopping down on top of him, forcing a soft oof from his sternum. “Oh, hello. Everything okay?”
You make a tortured groaning sound, forehead pushing into his neck.
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” Remus passes a loving hand over Sirius’ head in greeting, en route to the kitchen. “I’ll get your ice.”
“Aw,” Sirius tuts, letting his magazine lay tented over your back. He palms the back of your head gently. “Hard first day back at work?”
“It feels like it hurts worse,” you mumble into the space below his throat. The tip of your nose is cool where it presses to his skin. “I’m so tired.”
“Oh, I know, baby.” Sirius kisses the top of your head. “It’s not very fair, is it?”
“Pain is tiring,” Remus agrees. He passes Sirius an ice pack to settle against your cheek, holding onto another while he leans on the back of the couch. “It’ll get better over the next few days. Tomorrow should be easier.”
“I can’t think about tomorrow.” Your voice is softer, lips barely moving as Sirius holds the ice to your jaw. You shift your face from his neck, turning your eyes up to his. “Keep me here forever?”
Sirius feels his mouth spread in a grin. “You know I will, gorgeous. And I’ll do you one better, lift your head and I’ll put two ice packs on your cheeks.”
You pick your head up as directed. Remus passes Sirius the other ice pack, and he sandwiches your face between the two with a smile. Your poor cheeks are swollen and bruised, but Sirius thinks you look lovely despite it, even pouting the way you are. You look between your boyfriends as though waiting for them to do something about it.
Remus breaks first. “Oh, my love.” He gives a pitying laugh, folding over the back of the couch to hug your shoulders. “I’m sorry. The pain won’t last much longer, though. Just give yourself some time to heal.”
“Count yourself lucky you had wisdom to take,” Sirius says. “I didn’t have anything they wanted at all.”
“I’m so tired of this,” you sigh, leaning into Remus. “Sorry, I know it’s only been a couple of days, just. It’s just constant, you know?”
Remus hums. He knows better than most, better than Sirius for sure. Sirius feels overcome by a fond protectiveness for you both.
He touches a pinkie to Remus’ forearm where it’s wrapped around your clavicle. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says, rubbing. “It’s cruel and unjust to have either of you ever work again. I won’t entertain it.”
“Oh, you’re going to be our sole breadwinner now?” Remus asks, smiling.
“Quite right. I’ll need the two of you to carry your weight in homemaking, of course, but I’ll manage the rest.”
“And you reckon your income can cover our portions of the rent and groceries and all that?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, darling. It’s well in hand.”
“Let me lie about for the rest of the week,” you sigh. “Then I’ll go back to work and you can stay here, Rem.”
Remus turns his smile into the top of your head, nose denting into your hair. “Yeah? You sure?”
“M’sure.” You shut your eyes. Sirius grins at Remus, thinking that he has about thirty seconds to change positions before you fall asleep and he has to hold you this way all night. “Just need a few days.”
But Remus will indulge you in anything; he stays perfectly still. “Sure, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your head. “Whatever you need.”
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lovelytsunoda · 8 months ago
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wisdom teeth // oscar piastri (headcanons)
summary: oscar's girlfriend gets her wisdom teeth out
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: mentions of surgery, wisdom teeth, anesthesia....you know, just dental surgery related things
author's note: i lost the picture i normally use for my headcanon dividers and its pissing me off because i can't be bothered to go to an old set and save it again....maybe its time to rebrand slightly.
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he’s such a lover boy!! so attentive for the whole day and recovery period
drives her to the appointment in their Kia suv, something far more sensible than Oscar’s McLaren is, with the sole purpose of making sure she’s comfortable on the way home
he doesn’t leave the surgery once during the procedure. even though they’re told that it will be at least three hours to remove all four teeth, he simply takes a book out of his backpack and camps out in the waiting room
holding her hand while they wait for the anaesthesia to take effect, and kissing her on the forehead before he leaves the operating theatre
he wanted to say but the surgeon said ✨ not on your life✨
so there he is, reading mark webbers autobiography in the waiting room
when she comes out of surgery, she’s not delirious like he had feared
just fucking tired
“hey sweet girl, lean on me. let’s get you to the car. how about we stop for milkshakes on the way home?”
shes bundled up in blankets, groggy as she pushes the seat back, indie rock on the radio and oscar's hand reassuringly rubbing her thigh
shes asleep by the time he gets to the mcdonalds drive through
he has to carry her inside, securely tucking her into their bed and leaving the milkshake on the nightstand
watching tv in the other room at a low volume so he can hear if she wakes up or if she needs anything
helps her shower to wash off the hospital smell, holding her tightly and whispering how proud he is and how good she is
stroking her hair as they eat soup together while watching something mindless on netflix before she falls asleep in his arms halfway through an episode of monk
makes sure she takes all her painkillers on time, drinking lots of water
waits on her hand and foot, even days later when she’s almost fully recovered
“babe, I’m going for a girls night!”
“like hell you are. are you sure you’re well enough? the surgeon said it could take a week. your stitches still need to dissolve.”
“Oscar, it’s just a few mocktails and manicures.”
“fine. but don’t overdo it. no vodka, no sharp foods and no boxing classes at least until Monday.”
“okay, dad.”
but she’s smiling as she says it
Oscar just wants to take care of his pretty girl, and make sure she has everything she needs to get better
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freakyformula · 2 months ago
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Knight in shining armor
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Summary: Readers car breaks down on the road and her friend Max picks her up.
Writers comment: Sorry for the inactivity, I had one of my wisdom teeth pulled and developed dry socket lol rip
Warnings: Some fluff
Word count: 2k
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You had spent the last week away for a holiday with your family. You lived in Monaco while your family still resided in your home country. You had barely graduated college when you decided to work abroad. Living away from your family was tough, but the week after you moved in, as you walked home, you stopped by the harbour and that's where you met him. Max Verstappen. He was handsome and had the finest smile you'd ever seen. Stating that you fell for him then and there would be an overstatement but you felt something in your heart.
You thought you recognised his face but couldn't place him. When he laid his eyes on you, on the other hand, he stopped in his tracks and studied you for a moment. Then, he walked up to you and introduced himself. And the rest was history, you instantly hit it off as friends. Max was special, you two had something that you hadn't ever felt with anyone else. When he was home from his busy job in Formula 1, you would often spend time together, even sleeping at each other's apartments, although not in the same bed. You lived in the same district as him, Fontveille, only a couple of buildings apart.
"Yeah, yeah, Max! I'll be at your place in about an hour." You laugh as you hear Max's worried voice on the other end of the phone.
"Please drive carefully." He pleads.
He'd insisted on picking you up from the airport or ordering an Uber but you politely declined.
As you grab your bags, you walk straight to the car rental. You glanced at the cars available and decided on a small black Audi. You had to admit that you were tired. The long flight had taken its toll, and you started to regret insisting on driving home but you felt like you had to prove to Max that you could take care of yourself.
You pay for the car and drag your heavy bags out. Getting them into the small car was a task itself but you managed, somehow. As you started your 20-minute drive you felt the fatigue in your body. When you made it onto the highway you felt relieved, because you were one step closer to home and Max.
You'd barely made it halfway when the car started to lose power, leaving you stranded at the edge of the highly trafficked highway. "Fuck… What do I do.." You panicked, you didn't have any numbers saved and didn't know French that well yet so calling for a tow was out of the question. You didn't really care about the car at this point, but rather about how you were supposed to make it home safely. You had to think for a few minutes, listing your options in your head. Then, as if by a miracle, the phone called. Max. Shit, what was she going to say, that she was a damsel in distress and she was stuck on the highway?
"Hi, Max." You said.
"Hi lieverd, are you home soon? I was getting worried."
"Ummm, so, I'm kinda stuck on the highway… The damn car broke down. But I'm figuring it out, I promise!" You blurt the last part out. Silence. You waited for a reply for what felt like a minute. You hear the sound of keys clinging. "I'm on my way. Y/N, please for the love of god, stay in the car and turn your location on." Max quickly and shortly replies before he hangs up.
"I…" You start before you realise that he ended the call. You did as he'd told you and looked around. The cars drove past at such fast and close proximity.
This was Max in a nutshell, always there, having all of the solutions to the world's problems up his sleeve. You felt so pathetic at the fact that you couldn't even make your way home by yourself.
15 minutes later, you see a car that you quickly identify as Max's car speed by on the other side of the highway. He quickly makes his way to your lane and parks his car behind yours.
He walks up to your broken-down car, minding the traffic. "Need a ride?" He teases.
"Shut up!" You step out, giving his side a nudge. You open the trunk where the bags were, and Max drags them to his car, placing them in the back with care.
You lock the Audi and step into Max's luxurious and grand Aston Martin. It smells like him.
"Ready to go?" Max asks and grabs the wheel.
You take his hand into yours and stare into his eyes as he turns to look at you in confusion.
"Thank you, for this." You thank him, making him huff.
"Of course Y/N, I told you I should have picked you up. I want to spend all the time I can with you before the next race weekend." You smile at him and you start the drive to Monaco and Fontveille. The whole way home, he held your hand tightly, as if he was scared to lose you. The gesture made your heart even warmer than it already was.
Max parks neatly and effortlessly in his parking house and carries your bags out, insisting on handling them. You walk behind him like a puppy, letting him lead you to his apartment.
As you walk in, you instantly toss your shoes and crash on his sofa, with him following, laying down beside you.
"Wanna order some food?" You whisper, looking at him.
"Someone's hungry, I see. What do you want, princess?"
"Something really unhealthy, preferably. Pizza, maybe?"
And with that, you ordered your food with Max, playfully arguing whether pineapple was acceptable to put on pizza.
"Do you want to do something in particular tonight, schat?"
"Anything that includes you sounds good to me." You smile at him.
"Does snuggles sound good to you? You look tired." Max says.
You nod as an answer, as you switch on the TV, leaving on the random rom-com in the background. You grab a blanket that was left on the sofa and lie down with your head in Max's lap. You both sigh contently. He slowly rubs your head, giving you a relaxing head massage.
You loved his attention to your needs, he had always treated you with respect under this last year that you'd known each other. Max was always extremely clingy with you, holding your hand, and reminding you how much he likes spending time with you. You didn't think anything of it at the time but lately you started noticing how caring he actually was. He wasn't like this with anyone else of the girls from your mutual friend group either.
As you were thinking about the signs Max gave you, he must have noticed how distant you were because he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You okay?" He asks with concern in his voice.
"Yes, I am, Max." You chuckled and gave him a squeeze back.
"How was your holiday? Tell me everything." Max asks of you.
As you tell him all of the gossip and details he starts to rub your hands, creeping up your arms. And then, he pulls you into his arms, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head.
You pulled away. You weren't against the affection, but you needed some clarity. Max was like a closed book when it came to his feelings and emotions, rarely talking about what he felt, regardless of whether it was positive or negative.
You quickly gather your thoughts and Max seems to do the same.
"W-what are we doing?" You ask him.
He looks you in the eyes and cups your cheeks, unable to keep his hands off you. You didn't protest, vice versa, you leaned into his touch. This was new but it felt right.
He sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is something I've been waiting to say for the last year or so. I should have told you sooner but I was scared you would reject me. Y/N, I really really like you… More than as a friend, and I've been trying to ignore my feelings for you but I'm simply unable to keep this to myself any longer."
You were speechless, you had your suspicions but it still came as a surprise.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, but I couldn't keep it in." He continues.
"Max…" You break the eye contact. "I like you too, I mean… A lot."
Max eyes warm up with joy, and he gives you the warmest smile you'd ever seen. His smile reached all the way up to his eyes, and you thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen.
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You wake up in a bed. The sheets smell fresh, like citrus, and Max's cologne. You turn around, rubbing your eyes, but find no one on the other side of the bed. You find your way downstairs, to the living room and kitchen. Max is standing at the stove with his back turned to you. What is he possibly doing, you think. It's common knowledge that Max sucks at cooking.
You sit down at the kitchen island, getting lost in his beauty. It's quiet, the only exception being Max's swear words as he manages to burn himself and whatever is in the pan. After a while, he breaks the silence, "You know, Y/N, it's not polite to stare." He says as he turns around to face you.
You were embarrassed and sat there stuttering, not quite knowing what to say. "I-I-I swear I wasn't!"
Max laughs, "Uh huh..." And scoops two eggs onto each plate. One for you and one for himself. "Thank you, Max, this is too much..." You say, still blushing. He walks around the island and takes a seat next to you, giving your temple a light kiss while holding his arm around you.
"No, Y/N. This is barely enough." He smiles.
"So... What happened last night?" You ask. You really didn't remember, you must've dozed off.
"We talked about your holiday, and what happened last night, you know, you ending up on the road, and you fell asleep. I carried you to my bed, and I slept on the sofa. Nothing happened, by the way." He clarifies, holding his hands up. You look at him, and you can't make out if you were shocked or happy, or something else. One thing you knew for sure though, you were thankful for him. As he gets up again to get some juice and bread, you walk up to him, not saying anything. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.
You're lost in his eyes, and stand there like a fool. Just studying his beautiful stance. You had no idea what got into you, but you fall into his arms, holding him tightly, not letting go.
Max laughs nervously, "What are you doing?" While hugging you back, or rather squeezing you. You were unable to even breathe while he was holding you. You stay like that for what feels like forever, both of you fusing together, not being able to let go, not wanting to let go.
When you finally part, you're both out of breath from holding each other so hard. "Shall we?" Max asks, pointing to the eggs. As you eat, you don't say anything, neither does Max. You're processing what just happened and Max seems to do the same. You didn't regret hugging him, on the contrary, you were happy with yourself.
"I think I love you, Y/N." Max admits while washing the two plates, not daring to look at you.
Hearing the words, you freeze. You know exactly what to say, but the words don't come out. Max finally turns around to face you, and you're sat with the blankest of expressions, further worrying him. "Y/N?" He walks up to you.
"I... I think I love you too?" You ask yourself, already knowing the answer. You did love him, there was no question. You'd always loved him.
Upon hearing your words, Max lets out a sigh of relief, while walking up to you, and embracing you.
"Thank fuck." He sighs. You can feel him almost trembling, or rather vibrating from nervousness. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, before he lets you out of his grip. "Let me rephrase that, I don't think I love you, I love you."
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pink-princess-pussy-pop · 2 years ago
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Rafey - Rafe x Reader FLUFF
Req: I am in need of rafe fanfics so here I am requesting …. I was wondering if you could write something about rafe being really soft when it comes to reader and being completely different from his usual mean personality and just being completely whipped for her?? Hope this is alright :)
Rafe x Reader est. relationship
Warnings: Language, violence, alcohol and drug use, rafe making sexual innuendos lol
Summary: You witness Rafe's animosity towards others and notice the difference in his treatment of you.
SOFT! RAFE IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.
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Summers on The Cut were the absolute best. Parties every weekend, the beach with your friends, all the time in the world with your boyfriend, Rafe. The Kook life suited you well.
You stepped into Tannyhill, the blast of the AC immediately cooling your body down from the hellish weather of the OBX. Rafe and Sarah had come together, a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence, to plan that weekend's party. Rose and Ward had taken Wheezie out of town for her birthday, leaving the elder Camerons alone in the big house. Sarah was in the kitchen, stirring a big cooler of some sort of beverage you guessed you would be indulging in later that night.
"Hey Y/N!" She smiled at you. "Rafe is out getting some stuff for tonight, but he should be back soon!" You nod and cross to the counter where she is.
"Alright." You look around the big room. "Do you need help with anything? Should I-"
"Could you get the ice from the freezer?" You smile.
"Got it."
Fifteen minutes later, and a few sips of Sarah's concoction later, you are giggling on the sofa.
"No way."
"No, I'm serious. After he got his wisdom teeth out, he kept asking to watch The Backyardigans. It was hysterical. Wheez got so many good videos of him." You simply couldn't contain your laughter at the thought of Rafe watching a kids' TV show.
"Yeah yeah. It's hysterical." His voice rang out from behind you and Sarah's eyes went wide as they met yours, a laugh threatening to escape from her lips. You, however, kept giggling.
"Rafey... How often do you watch The Backyardigans?" He rolled his eyes and set his hands on the back of the couch, bending down to meet your height.
"It was a one-time thing, baby." You giggled again and Rafe smiled the tiniest bit. "Geez, how much have you had to drink?" He sat up, running his hand through his hair, which you were thankful for. After you had kept stealing his gel, Rafe left his hair natural, which you were very thankful for.
Sarah started laughing again, which made you start laughing.
"Not a lot!" He rolled his eyes and turned away from the two of you, going to the kitchen to finish preparations. Sarah suddenly gasped and tapped your shoulder repeatedly. "D'ya wanna get ready with me? It will be so fun." You immediately nod.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Sarah jumps off of the couch reaching her hand out for you.
"C'mon!" You grabbed her hand and let yourself be pulled in the direction of the stairs before Rafe's voice stopped you.
"Hold on ladies. I'd like to talk to my girl before you leave me all alone." Sarah giggles again before running up the stairs. You smile and turn to Rafe, jumping a bit in shock when you see that he is already in front of you, his hand on the wall beside your head.
"Hi." You whisper.
"Hi." He whispers back. You grin at him, which makes him smile.
His unoccupied hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face before he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"I bet you're gonna look beautiful tonight. Have fun with Sarah and holler if you need anything." He gives you a real Rafe smile and you return an even bigger one.
Hours later, you were riding on the buzz of Sarah's tasty drinks and some weed. You felt great, the light blue dress you chose for the night fell just below your bottom, something that Rafe had noticed the moment you had walked down the stairs.
He had been keeping an eye on you all night, how could he not with that fucking dress? You looked like you were having a good time with Sarah and the rest of your friends, smiling at you from afar.
"Yo, Rafe!" Kelce clapped him on the shoulder. "Special delivery from Barry." The mention of the drug caught Rafe's attention quickly and he grinned at Kelce.
"Where?" Kelce jerked his head behind him and began to walk away. Rafe turned his head back to where you were and decided you'd be fine on your own for a bit. He met Kelce and Topper in a spare guest-room. The white power clumped on the table made Rafe's heart pound in anticipation. The three Kooks indulged in the drug, making their noses burn and heads spin.
Rafe left the room and made his way back to the party, rounding a corner when a touron bumped into him.
"Hey man! Watch where you're going. Asswipe." The dark haired guy spat out. With the drug mixed with Rafe's temper, the guy was on the floor in an instant.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Topper and Kelce were right behind Rafe, amused looks on their faces. The party had quieted down, eyes and ears on Rafe and the kid on the floor below him.
You pushed your way to the front of the crowd, staring with wide eyes as Rafe's body loomed over the touron.
"Dude! what the fuck?" The guy scrambled up onto his feet, pushing Rafe back with as much force as he could. "Do you wanna fight?"
Rafe's dark laugh could be heard over the music.
"Awe dude's gone and fucked up." Topper said, coaxing a laugh out of Kelce.
Rafe smirked, pushing the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows.
"Won't be much of a fight dude." Rafe's fist collided with the guys face seconds later, sending him back onto the floor. Gasps sounded throughout the room.
"Rafe!" You screamed as he bent down to deliver another blow. And another.
Rafe managed to control his anger and picked the touron up, clutching him by his shirt.
"Get the fuck out of my house." The touron wasted no time scrambling out of Tannyhill and seconds later, the party was back in full-swing, like Rafe hadn't just beaten a tourist up.
Kelce and Topper patted Rafe on the back as he inspected his hands.
"Rafe." The prior actions had sobered you up almost completely. Their heads snapped to yours and Rafe gave you another one of his rare smiles. You fought the urge to smile back. "Come with me. Let me help you." You glared at Kelce and Top as they giggled at Rafe nodding and following you out of the room like a puppy.
The cocaine had made Rafe hyperfixate on you. Your pretty face, your sparkling eyes, the slight pout of your lips while you cleaned off his bloody knuckles.
"Hi, baby." He whispered. You were standing in between his legs, with him on the counter in his bathroom.
"Hi." You didn't look at him when you replied, too focused on fixing him up and too mad to meet his gaze. That is until Rafe started giggling.
"Well isn't this a switcheroo." Your head jerked up at Rafe's odd choice of words.
"What?" He's grinning at you again and the sight makes your heart race.
"Usually I'm in between your legs." Your head drops in exasperation and you take a deep breath.
"Jesus, Rafe." You refocused back on his hand, cleaning it up before wrapping it with bandages.
"We could make that happen, if you want..." His voice is just above a whisper. You are waiting for a giggle to follow but the room is silent. You look at him and his eyes are wide and pupils blown.
"Rafe..." You take his head in your hands. "Are you high?" A sheepish look wipes across his face.
"Only a little bit." His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling your body closer to his. His head drops to your shoulder. "Mmmm. Yof snel go." His words are muffled and you stifle a laugh?
"What?" His head pops up a little.
"You smell good."
"Thank you, Rafe." His head pulls back so his eyes can meet yours, a frown present on his handsome features.
"Stop calling me that."
"Rafe? Baby that's your name." He shakes his head.
"You haven't called me Rafey all night." He pouts and you smile.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes, please." Even though you hate Rafe's use of drugs, you do enjoy this side of Rafe that comes out after he indulges in it.
"Aright, baby." You grab his hand to pull him off of the counter but he doesn't budge. "C'mon big guy." He shakes his head.
"Not until you say it." You set your hands on your hips as you stare at your boyfriend, Rafe Fucking Cameron, the scariest Kook of them all who just fucking broke a kids nose, is sitting on a counter in front of you, acting like a baby and begging you to call him by his nickname.
"Then I guess you're gonna have to be nice, Rafe." His eyes narrow.
"You're being mean. I'm always nice." You roll your eyes. "To you." He reaches his hands out and pulls you back to his embrace. "Please?" His eyes are like a puppies and you can't hold back your smile.
"Rafey..." Out comes another true Rafe grin which makes your heart soar.
"Say it again." His fingers brush your sides as he looks at you expectantly. Your hands reach up to push his hair back.
"Rafey." He thanks you with kisses. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips.
"Stop! Ew!" You are a giggling mess. You manage to push the large man away from your body, trying to catch your breath.
You look at him, standing by the door, watching you with a small smile.
"What?"
"I love you." His words go straight to your heart.
"I love you." He pulls you in for a real kiss, one that makes you melt into his arms.
The two of you leave the bathroom hand-in-hand.
"Did you call me 'big guy' ?"
"Shut up."
THIS MADE ME SMILE SO MANY TIMES!
Enjoy!
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httpsdana · 17 days ago
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Hi! If you write for Kenan Yildiz, can you do prompt 2 and 6 from the Playful/Teasing? If you don't write for Kenan, then can it be with Pau Cubarsi? Thank you!
Toothless Grins~Pau Cubarsi
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・❥・prompt list
・❥・masterlist -> part 2
・❥・who I write for
・❥・a/n: i decided to write it for Pau cause I've written way to much for Kenan. also I got a bit carried away... but this is definitely one of my fav fics I've written
2. “I swear, I tripped and fell into your arms. Pure accident.”
6. “I’m not saying you’re cute… but you’re kind of cute.”
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"we're home right now. can you please hurry? he's not shutting up about you" Irene said, her voice muffled as she said something in the background.
"I'm on my way to your house, I'll be there in 20 minutes. how is he?" y/n said, putting her phone on speaker as she started her car.
"he's fine I think. his cheek is a bit swollen but other than that he's good. He's talking a lot though" Irene said, making her chuckle.
"that's how he is. stay safe and call me if you need anything on the way" y/n said before hanging up.
Pau had just gotten his wisdom teeth removed, and well he was acting like a drunk guy because of all the medication used to block away his pain.
As she arrived to his parent's house, she knocked on the door, waiting for someone to open it. A loud crash from inside was heard, before the door opened, revealing a very messy-haired Irene, catching her breath.
"thank god you're here. i can't handle him anymore" she said, making y/n chuckle before stepping in.
They walked to the living room where Pau was sat on the couch, the remote in his hand as he went through the channels.
His hair was a mess, but a cute mess. And his cheek was still as swollen as Irene said it was, but he still looked as adorable as he usually did, even with cotton stuffed in his mouth.
"hey Pau. look who's here" Irene said as y/n sat down next to him. He looked up at her, his eyes brightening up at the sight of her.
He didn't say a thing though, just kept inspecting her, studying every feature of her.
"okay...I'm gonna leave now. mom and dad will be home soon" Irene said, giving her brother a weird look before leaving.
"drive safe!" y/n said, before hearing the door slam close.
She turned then to her boyfriend, who's face was now so much closer to hers.
"Pau, how are you feeling amor?" she asked, laughing slightly at the way he was looking at her.
“I’m not saying you’re cute… but you’re kind of cute.” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down from her eyes to her lips.
Her cheeks burned at his words, but she just shook her head, smiling to herself at his drunken-like state.
"well thank you, you're pretty cute too" she said, raising her hand to brush the hair from his forehead.
"will you marry me?" he blurted out, his eyes still fixated on her lips
She was taken back from his words, but smiled softly at his eyes that were full of affection.
"no Pau, not yet" she stiffled a laugh at the way his face dropped, and tears rushed into eyes.
"you don't think I'm pretty?" he whispered, his voice showing sadness and disappointment.
"i think you're a very handsome boy" she said, one of her hands resting on his chest while the other still brushed through his hair. "but we're still pretty young to get married don't you think?" she said, looking into his gorgeous green eyes.
He looked at her with that love struck look, his eyes going back to her lips.
"you look like y/n" he murmured, his eyes looking up into her eyes.
She chuckled, leaning back against the couch while still looking at him.
"you think so? who's y/n?" she asked, deciding to see what he'll reply.
At the mention of her name, his face lit up, his cute smile appearing once again as he dropped back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.
"y/n is the love of my life. I love her so much. do you know that I have a picture of her in my wallet? but I don't tell her because she would make fun of me saying I'm so obsessed with her. Also do you know that I have a special album for her in my photos? I have so many pictures of her she doesn't even know about. once I filmed her while sleeping because she looked so cute in my shirt and with her hair messy" he rambled, his hands flying in the air as he did some exaggerated movements.
y/n smiled at his words, her heart melting at his sweet words. Pau wasn't one to speak about his feelings very often, he's more of a physical touch and quality time type of guy, and hearing him say those things about her made her realize how much she means to him.
"you really love her?" she asked, wanting to hear more about his feelings.
"yes!" he exclaimed, before continuing his rant. "she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She makes me feel so... i don't know, she makes wanna kick my feet in the air when she calls me cute. I can't believe she's my girlfriend"
y/n pouted at his words, her heart skipping a beat at his honestly.
She leaned closer to him, her body shifting closer to his. He looked down at her, his face lighting up once again.
"amor? you're here?" he said, his smile wide as ever.
"yes baby I'm here" she said, chuckling as she leaned over to kiss his swollen cheek softly. He winced a bit, making her pull away quickly.
"you okay?" she asked, her hand resting gently on his shoulder.
"yes...I think I need to go to the bathroom" he said, immediately getting up and rushing to the hallway.
y/n waited for him to come back, not wanting to invade his privacy. With in two minutes, he was back in the room. His body swaying slightly as he walked closer to her, and suddenly he dropped into her arms, his hands quickly wrapping around her waist.
“I swear, I tripped and fell into your arms. Pure accident.” he giggled, the sound making y/n smile even wider.
She looked down at him, her lips pressing a feather like kiss on his forehead.
"I'm sure it was an accident" she teased, watching how his ears turned red.
"mhm it totally was" he murmured into her neck, before pressing a few kisses there.
They sat in silence for a while, Pau resting comfortably in her arms as she scratches his scalp gently
"can you give me a kiss?" he looked up at her, his big doe green eyes waiting for a response.
"are you sure? you totally winced when I kissed your cheek earlier" she said, a hint of joking in her voice. Pau frowned as he looked at her, sitting up straight.
"I didn't?" he said, confused.
She realized that Pau was kind of getting back to his consciousness, so she cupped his face in her hands, very gently careful not to hurt him.
"do you remember what you told me?" she asked, glancing down at his pouty lips.
"no? you just arrived I still didn't tell you anything?" his confused tone making her giggle slightly.
"yes baby. how are you feeling? does it hurt?" she asked, genuinely worried about him as she glanced at his slightly purple cheek.
"I'm fine. I've been through worse. but I think a kiss can make me better" he said teasingly, his eyes trailing down to her lips once again.
y/n rolled her eyes before leaning closer to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. He whined when she pulled away, his hands reaching down to her hips, pulling her closer.
"that's not a kiss mi amor, you know I hate when you give me those" his whiny voice making her chuckle
"the doctor told me not to give you kisses. apparently you were too stubborn during the surgery" she said, making Pau gasp dramatically.
"he's lying! I promise I was so calm and quiet. i didn't even move" he said, his voice almost desperate.
"are you sure?" she teased, brushing her nose against his. He nodded eagerly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I promise"
"fine, maybe I can give you a kiss or two" she said. Pau grinned widely, waiting for her to finally kiss him. She leaned closer, pecking his lips a few times, which made him frown again
"amor" he whined
"Pau I can't give you more than that. Your mouth is all bloody and stuff" she cringed slightly, making him sigh but nod.
He dropped his head on her lap, his eyes closing briefly before he looked up at her.
"there's something you're not telling me isn't there?" he said, watching how wide her smile was.
"oh it's nothing. but why didn't you tell me you had a picture of me in your wallet?" she teased, making his eyes go wide as he covered his face with his hands.
"how did you know?" he asked, peaking through his fingers to look at her.
"you told me. when you were all drugged and stuff. and apparently I have some secret pictures in your phone? i need to see those too" she teased him further, making him groan
"shut up. or else I'll delete them" he warned, both of them knowing he wouldn't even think about doing that.
"oh sure you will" she said, making him chuckle before he revealed his face.
She smiled down at him, leaning down to press a few kisses across his face.
"I love you" she murmured, pressing one final kiss on the tip of his nose.
"te amo más amor" he mumbled, his eye lids heaving as the tiredness wore off. (i love you more love)
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my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia (lmk if you want to be added!!)
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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Under the Influence
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc knows three things (1) wisdom teeth have nothing to do with being wise (2) his face looks like a chipmunk and (3) he really really really loves his girlfriend
Warnings: mention of minor medical procedure
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You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Bleary eyed, you reach for it and squint at the screen. 37 missed calls and too many texts to count, all from Charles.
It’s the big day — your boyfriend is finally getting his wisdom teeth removed this morning. You had wanted to go with him to the oral surgeon but Charles insisted he would be fine on his own.
Clearly, that was not the case.
The phone starts vibrating again and you swipe to answer. Before you can even say hello, Charles’ slurred voice comes through the speaker. “Ma choupinette! I misssss you!” He draws out the last word for several seconds. You stifle a laugh at how loopy he sounds from the painkillers.
“Hi, my love. How are you feeling?” You ask gently.
You hear some shuffling on his end of the line.
“I feel ... so good! I can’t feel my face though. Is it still there?” More shuffling noises. “Yep, still here! Wow, my cheeks are soooo big and fluffy now!” He descends into a fit of giggles.
You grin and shake your head. Your poor Charles is definitely still under the influence of the drugs. “I’m glad you’re not in any pain. Are you home already?”
“Yep! Safe and sound in my bed. But it’s so lonely without you here. You should come over and cuddle me!” His words come out muffled, no doubt because his mouth is still numb.
You glance at the clock — it’s still relatively early in the morning. “I would love to but I have a few things to take care of first. I’ll come by this afternoon to check on you though, okay?”
Charles lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiiiine. Hey, did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world? And you’re so nice too! I’m the luckiest ...” He trails off into incomprehensible mumbling.
You have to press your hand to your mouth to hold in your laughter. Anesthetized Charles is even more adorable than regular Charles. “Thank you, my love. You’re very kind. Now get some rest, I’ll see you soon.”
“Okayyyy, bye bye gorgeous!” Charles singsongs before hanging up. Still chuckling, you set your phone down to start getting ready for the day. Your productivity is short lived however, as your phone immediately starts buzzing again.
Charles is calling you back.
With a mix of amusement and exasperation, you answer the call. Before you can ask what’s wrong, Charles’ cheerful voice exclaims, “I forgot to tell you I love you!”
You can’t help but laugh out loud this time. “I love you too, Charles.”
“Yay!” He cheers. In the background, you hear a woman’s voice telling Charles to stay in bed and get some rest. It must be his mother looking after him. Thank goodness for her help today.
You talk Charles into hanging up and leaving you be for now. As entertaining as loopy Charles is, you do need to run some errands. You eventually make it out the door and head into town. While perusing the aisles of the grocery store, your phone buzzes again. Expecting it to be Charles, you don’t even look at the screen before answering with an amused, “Yes, my love?”
Instead of your boyfriend’s sleepy voice, you hear numerous screams and squeals on the other end. Before you can ask what’s happening, the chaos turns into a bunch of people chanting “Say it again! Say it again! Say it again!”
Your stomach drops. You pull the phone away to look at the screen. Sure enough, Charles is broadcasting on Instagram Live and waving at an alarmingly large crowd of fans gathered below his apartment. Dreading what you’re about to witness, you bring the phone back to your ear. The chanting continues until Charles finally obliges.
“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you sooooo much! You’re the bestest, most bootiful, charming girl in the whole universe and I love you more than racing!” His confession is met with deafening squeals from his adoring devotees. You stand frozen in the cheese aisle, one hand clutching your grocery basket, cheeks flaming red. This is not exactly how you hoped your relationship would go public.
Charles is still slurring sluggishly into the phone, rambling on about how perfect and wonderful you are. You try to get a word in edgewise to stop him but his fans keep egging him on.
“Charles, honey, maybe you should get off Live and rest ...” you attempt feebly.
He gasps dramatically. “Wait, are you my girlfriend? Y/N? Is that you?”
You sigh, resigned to your fate. “Yes Charles, it’s me.”
The screams somehow increase in volume at this admission. Charles laughs with delight. “Guys, this is my girlfriend! Isn’t she the coolest? I’m the luckiest guy ever!”
Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but melt a little at his ear-to-ear grin and heart eyes on the screen. He looks utterly smitten, even in his disoriented, post-op state. His fans seem to be eating it up too, flooding the comments with things like “My life won’t be complete until someone looks at me the way that Charles looks at Y/N” and “Charles is boyfriend of the year!”
You spend the next 15 minutes gently trying to persuade Charles to end the livestream and rest to no avail. He is having far too much fun gushing about you and interacting with his followers. You field a few questions from curious fans, keeping your answers light to avoid revealing too much. It’s clear they are enthralled by this lovestruck version of the normally private Ferrari driver.
Finally, after Charles has told the story of your first date no less than five times, his mother comes to your rescue. She appears on camera and tenderly tells Charles the “show” is over and he needs to sleep. He pouts adorably but allows her to tuck him back into bed and take away his phone. Just before the Live ends, he blows a loopy kiss to the camera and says “Love you, mon chouchou!” The fans go wild in the chat before the feed cuts out.
You slump against your shopping cart in relief. Your phone is already flooded with texts from friends and family who saw the Instagram fiasco. You shoot off some quick reassurances that you’re both fine and it was just the medication talking. Bagging the rest of your abandoned groceries, you check out as fast as possible. There’s somewhere you need to be right now.
Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on the door of Charles’ apartment. His mother opens it with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry about earlier dear, the anesthesia made him a bit out of it as I’m sure you noticed.”
Charles perks up when you enter his bedroom. “You came!” He mumbles happily, making grabby hands at you. You settle onto the bed next to him and he immediately nuzzles into you like an affectionate kitten. His mother slips out to give you two some privacy.
You run your fingers soothingly through his hair. “How are you feeling now, my love?”
“Mmm ... sleepy. And really happy you’re here." He smiles dopily up at you. “Did I do something silly earlier? I don’t really remember.”
You debate downplaying it but figure he’ll find out eventually when the internet explodes. “You may have repeatedly declared your undying love for me on an Instagram Live ...” you say sheepishly.
Charles’ eyes go wide. “No way, really? Wow ...” He blinks slowly, processing this new information. A sly grin spreads across his swollen face. “Well it’s true. I meant every word.”
You kiss his forehead tenderly. “I know you did. Now get some more rest, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Charles looks up at you adoringly. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you more,” you boop him on the nose.
He giggles. “No way. I love you more-er.”
“Impossible. I love you most,” you insist.
“Nuh-uh,” Charles protests. “I love you most-est.”
You laugh at his stubborn persistence. “Alright, you win. Now close your eyes.”
Charles snuggles impossibly closer into your side and soon his breathing evens out as he drifts back to sleep. You brush a few curls off his forehead and whisper “I love you most-est-est.”
You make sure the blankets are wrapped securely around him and shake your head affectionately at your adorable, clueless boyfriend. Today certainly didn’t go as expected but you wouldn’t trade your Charles for anything in the world.
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musicwhitemagic · 2 months ago
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Delirious
Lip Gallagher x reader fluff
Warning: A very soft and cuddly Lip Gallagher
(Thank you to @theitgirlnetwork for checking my work before I posted it 😅)
Enjoy!
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You immediately shot up from the Gallagher’s couch when you heard the door click open and sighed with relief. They were finally home.
After a lot of annoying jabs from his siblings (some pleading from you), and the convenient dental insurance that his new job came with, Lip had finally decided to get his wisdom teeth out, and thank god too. He would never admit it, but it was starting to hurt like a bitch. It was just going to be a simple routine surgery, you knew he would be fine, but that still didn’t stop you from fidgeting and worrying all day. you had wanted to tag along but had been immediately turned down by Ian and Mickey who were picking him up from the dentist’s office, (Mickey would never miss an opportunity to see his brother-in-law hopped up on drugs and making an ass out of himself) they knew you would get upset and work yourself up. No matter how little of a dosage he would be on
Lip hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, so reluctantly, you stayed home.
“Alright, come on.” You walked over to help Ian who currently had Lip’s arm slung over his shoulder, struggling to get him inside. Mickey was following behind, phone in his hand recording with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, thanks for the help asshole” He glared at his boyfriend as he pulled his limp brother along.
“No problem.” Mickey smiled as he made a beeline for the kitchen.
“Is he okay?” you asked Ian as you gently pushed some of Lip’s curls back. He instantly melted into your touch as his eyes glazed over. He then reached over to grab your wrist and squeezed it affectionately. Well… that’s new. You thought as you squeezed back. It’s not that Lip wasn’t much for physical touch, in fact, once you started dating, he realized he preferred it, always choosing gentle kisses and soft touches (among other things) as his way of saying “I love you”, but public affection? Usually just a simple pull of your belt loop, or grazing of one anothers fingers would be the most on display.
Ian sighed as he wiped his forehead, “Yeah, he’s alright, just kinda’ out of it, the doctor said it should wear off in a bit, he should probably take his pills though.’’ You go to follow in pursuit, when a hand pulls you back down.
“Lip? You okay?” He responds by taking a piece of your hair and analyzing it with precision.
“I’ve seen you b’fore”
You giggle as you reach up to stroke his swollen cheeks, you decide, why not? Might as well take advantage of the situation before his stubborn pride comes back. “Yeah?”
“Yeah… you been around” he analyzes you once more, “You’re hot”
You can’t help but grin at his comment, although dumb, has you blushing like a schoolgirl. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself”. Ian entered the room with a glass of water and pills in his hand.
“Ian!” Lip whispers with no attempt at being quiet, “ook at er! She’s so hot! Isn’t she so hot?”
“Mhm, come on, you need to take this”
“She is so pretty!” Lip turns to you and boops your nose, “you’re ‘ust a pretty, pretty little lady-”
You lean in to cup his cheek and whisper. “Hey.. do you want to know something crazy?”
Lip, now absentmindedly playing with your fingers, whispers back to match your volume, “Yeah?”
“I’m your girlfriend”
“No!”
“Uh huh”
“I ont believe you”
“Would you like me to prove it to you?” Before you wait for an answer, you gently grab his chin, as he had done for you thousands of times, and place a long, sweet kiss on his lips. When you look back, he looks as though he could melt right there, in your hands. Usually you were the one that got flustered and awe-struck by Lip and his flirting, it was fun to be on the receiving end”
“You guys done?” Ian asked sardonically as he still stood in front of you, pills in hand.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Phillip, you’re such a pussy-wipped little bitch”
“Shut up Mickey”
Well, this would be a fun couple of hours.
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azzibuckets · 6 months ago
Text
loopy in love part 2 [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: sorry for the long wait! i wasn’t gonna write a second part but @makethemhoesmad forced me to.. and let’s pretend that azzi miraculously healed before the end lmfao
word count: 1.4k
part 1 | masterlist
Azzi needed to forget.
She needed to forget how warm Paige’s hands were when they’d traced her hair. She needed to forget the feel of Paige’s lips against her cheek, grazing across her skin and coming so close yet so far from where she needed it the most. She needed to forget the way Paige held her through the night, the two of them pressed so close together she didn’t know where she ended or began.
And she really needed to forget how uninhibited she’d been with the nitrous oxide running through her veins, revealing the secret she’d spent years perfecting to keep away, locked in the corners of her mind. Paige had been gone when Azzi had woken up this morning, with no text or note. Azzi been relieved at first, not knowing what to say or do so soon after the fact. But she also couldn’t ignore the anxiety swirling in her stomach, worried that she’d ruin everything they’d built over the past few years.
So that’s how she found herself with a bottle of tequila in her hand, sprawled out on the couch at 1 PM. Her apartment was utterly dark, the curtains drawn to block out the sunlight. She knew this wasn’t a healthy way to cope, but frankly, she didn’t care. She wanted, needed to numb the ache in her heart at Paige’s absence, at how she’s embarrased herself last night and probably destroyed their friendship ever.
But the doorbell rang, and when the door revealed Paige, Azzi was stuck, unsure of what to say or do. Paige’s face was void of emotion, her expression tightly controlled in the same way it was when she talked to reporters, the press, strangers, anyone that wasn’t someone she was close to. Azzi’s heart thudded.
Paige stepped in, not waiting for an invitation. She set a drink on the counter, the cup wet with condensation. “I brought you a smoothie.”
Azzi’s hands gingerly rubbed her jaw that was still swollen. “Thanks.”
Paige nodded in acknowledgment. She didn’t say anything, but her foot nervously toeing the ground told Azzi everything she needed to know.
“This is awkward,” Azzi blurted out.
Paige winced. “Yeah, it is,” she admitted. She went to go sit on the couch, but she paused when she saw the bottle of alcohol sitting on the coffee table. She picked it up, staring at it in disbelief as Azzi looked away in embarrasment. “Is this yours?”
“No, that’s…” Azzi’s mind furiously searched for someone to blame it on. “Caroline’s. She left it here the other day.”
Paige’s eyes hardened. “I can see droplets on the table.”
Azzi swallowed.
“Are you kidding me, Azzi?” Paige threw the bottle on the couch and approached her with blazing eyes, her jaw tense. “Did you happen to forget that you had surgery yesterday?”
Azzi sighed, having had enough of the conversation. She went to the kitchen, rummaging around the cabinets for something soft to eat. “It was just my wisdom teeth,” she muttered. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Alcohol thins your blood, Azzi, you know that.”
“I really don’t need you to babysit me right now.”
“Then stop acting like a kid.” Paige marched past Azzi to the sink, bottle in hand. Before Azzi could stop her, she unscrewed the cap and poured the entire bottle of tequila down the drain.
“Paige, what the fuck?” When Paige only smirked at her, Azzi felt herself grow hot with anger at her audacity. “That cost fucking money.”
“Please,” Paige scoffed. “This shit is cheap as hell. And we both know money isn’t an issue with you.”
Azzi was done with this conversation. She was done with the way that Paige was able to get under her skin so easily and make her feel things that no one should feel for their best friend. Knowing she was only proving Paige right but still not caring enough, she headed to her room and slammed the door, feeling like she was 13 years old again.
But, of course, Paige followed her, opening the door and slipping inside. “Wanna tell me why you’re trying to get drunk at 1 in the afternoon?”
“Wanna tell me why you’re not at lift?”
“I’m not at lift because I wanted to make sure you were healing okay.” Paige’s voice rose an octave, but she forced herself to calm down once she saw the change in Azzi’s body language, how she was shifting away. “What happened, Az?” Her voice was soft now, and she took a seat next to the younger girl, letting their elbows knock together.
Azzi stared straight ahead, focusing on the loose thread in the carpet instead of daring to glance over at Paige. She could feel the alcohol buzzing loosely through her body, not enough to be intoxicated but enough to give her that little bit of boldness she wouldn’t have otherwise. “You don’t think I notice that you don’t tell me anything anymore?” The words cut like a knife in Paige’s chest, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to let Azzi continue before saying anything. Azzi brought her knees up, folding her arms around them, making herself as small as possible like she was trying to protect herself. “Lately we’ve been fighting all the time. I-,” she paused, inhaling deeply, “I wasn’t even gonna ask you to take me to the dentist. I was scared you’d say no.”
Azzi closed her eyes briefly. “You know how devastating it is? To realize that I’m in love with my best friend, that I have been for the last four years. But then you started to pull away, and now it feels like I’m losing you, and I don’t know what to do.” She finally worked up the courage to look at Paige, but as soon as she did, she regretted it almost instantly. Paige’s eyes were rimmed red, wet with tears, her bottom lip trembling.
“It was two months ago.” Paige recalled the moment she’d started distancing herself from Azzi. “The guy at the bar - he was flirting with you. Remember how I was in a terrible mood that night?”
Azzi chuckled. It had become an inside joke with the team, how Paige had been the one who came up with the idea to go to Ted’s to celebrate that win, but had ended up sulking in the corner of the room the entire night because she “didn’t feel well.” “I remember.”
“You were flirting with that girl from Virginia Tech.” Paige was the one to look away now. “I remember feeling so irrationally angry. And I couldn’t even be mad, because you looked gorgeous that night. With your black top that I love.” Paige laughed dryly, but there was no humor in her voice. “And I remember thinking, damn, if I were that girl and seen you on the court playing like that, I would’ve flirted with you too. And I think that’s when I realized. That to me, you were more than just my best friend.”
Paige’s words hung in the air between the two of them, the tension almost tangible. Azzi burrowed her chin into her knees. “We fought that night,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“We did.” Paige anxiously rubbed her elbow. “And we got over it, but…”
“We never really did,” Azzi finished.
Both girls were silent.
Paige turned to face Azzi, giving a small smile. “But yesterday, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows obnoxiously. Azzi went to push Paige, but Paige grabbed her wrists instead, pulling her into her body until they were only a couple inches apart. Azzi had never been this close to the blonde before unless you counted her dreams, and it was dizzying, the smell of Paige’s perfume combined with the warming heat of her body.
When Paige’s fingers trailed up her palms, lightly tracing each groove before grazing the skin on her arm, Azzi sucked in a breath. Paige had touched her before. They cuddled almost every night for fuck’s sake. But it was different now, with electricity charging the air between them.
“Do you want this?” As soon as the word yes left Azzi’s mouth, she was pulled onto Paige’s lap, her legs straddling the blonde’s hips. Before she knew it, Paige’s mouth was on hers, soft and gentle, and Azzi realized then that she was fucked. In a split second, she knew that there was no way she’d be able to live without getting to taste Paige’s lips over and over again for the rest of her life, without the feeling of Paige’s teeth nibbling at her bottom lip and Paige sighing into her mouth. It was electrifying and it was thrilling and it was perfect, the way Paige’s lips molded against hers.
Paige suddenly pulled away, wiping at her mouth with a grimace. “I think I taste blood.”
Azzi ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Way to ruin the mood.”
Paige laughed, then pulled Azzi down so that they were lying on the bed, facing each other. “I’m sorry for pulling away. I was just trying to protect myself from falling too hard for you.” Paige’s thumb went to stroke Azzi’s cheek. “But I don’t think it worked anyways.”
Azzi’s breath caught, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from smiling too hard. “I don’t blame you. I’m pretty easy to fall in love with.” She expected a quip back, but Paige only stared at her with intensity.
“We’re still best friends, right?” Paige’s voice was small and unsure.
“I’ll die before we stop being best friends,” Azzi assured, pressing her forehead against Paige’s.
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aimedis · 4 months ago
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guy & honey headcanons 🍕🍯
"you are getting close.. hi! hi baby, i love you..."
honey calls guy “baby” occasionally (it's quite frequent actually) and he loves it so much
guy is good at reigning himself in now because of the one time honey seemed to get a little too exasperated with him and he felt horrible and closed his mouth for the rest of the day (they had a talk about boundaries and each person’s needs in their relationship and it’s never happened again)
honey has little moments of being clingy with guy but in the way that they just like to hold him and tell him that they love him without snarky comments (they claim they can’t do it all the time because they can’t have guy getting a big head, them being mean to him is to keep the world in balance) 
guy physically can’t handle it when honey flirts back with him or initiates any affection, he gets very very flustered and his eloquence flies out the window (cue guy’s face blowing up red and honey laughing at him)
it doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together, sometimes honey being any more than two inches in front of guy makes him nervous as hell
sometimes honey can’t help but smile at guy all adoring like
honey loves playing with guy's hair. sometimes when he's talking, they'll just run their fingers through it and it automatically makes him shut up and lean into their hand
honey and guy don't argue a lot and when they do it doesn't really get heated, they just talk for hours on end about whatever they're disagreeing about
they have movie nights where they just watch really shitty movies/shows and make fun of them while eating candy and snacks
honey sometimes plays horror/thriller movies on purpose just so guy can snuggle up to them in fear and hide in their neck (also so he clings onto them at bedtime)
guy almost never wants to be big spoon (when they both want to be little spoon, they'll rock paper scissors for it but if he loses, guy starts whining so much that honey just lets him be little spoon anyways)
sometimes guy comes home from a long day and can't stand the thought of speaking another word so honey just puts on his favourite show and holds him
honey plays solitaire and they're not very good at it (guy finds them raging over the fucking card game at their computer)
honey does their work in bed sometimes and guy just snuggles up to them to fall asleep to the keyboard clicking sounds
guy is only semi-good at cooking anything that's not pizza and honey is really good at so they do most of the cooking
guy bakes a lot though (he stress and apology bakes)
whenever the two are on the couch together, more often than not guy's head is on honey's lap
honey has adapted guy's colourful vocabulary subconsciously and the only reason they noticed, was because when they were speaking to a friend they said something guy would say as a joke and the friend was like "...what?"
the two have a billion inside jokes
honey gets stressed out very often and guy just holds their hand while they rant
a lot of the time when guy is rambling about nothing, honey is just playing with his fingers
honey's clothes are also guy's clothes
guy gets jealous frequently. but it's like a play jealous. honey can't even speak of another person's name or he'll go on a 20 minute rant about how they don't need anyone else in their life other than him (as a joke of course)
honey's type of jealous is a raised eyebrow and a "hm."
guy got his wisdom teeth taken out and he was in a constant cycle of "you're so pretty i wish you were my partner" "i am your partner, guy" "...really?? :0" for three hours until he fell asleep long enough for the anesthesia to wear off
they're both usually awake at the same time in the morning but guy usually leaves first. honey kisses him in the three exact spots every single day before he leaves (forehead, nose, and lips)
sometimes guy bites honey when they're not paying enough attention to him
their song is good-old fashioned lover boy (remastered 2011) by queen
guy just stares at honey a lot, admiring them
honey also stares back at guy when he's talking. guy has stopped mid-rant so many times because they were looking at him so deeply
guy loves kissing honey on the lips
honey loves kissing guy's forehead
both of their love languages are quality time and acts of service
they have "nuh uh" "yuh huh" battles every day
sometimes guy calls honey when he's on break just to talk because the people at his job don't deserve the level of yap he gets when he's with them
guy is constantly trying to get honey to stay in bed with him and sleep in
whenever honey does or says something really sweet, guy starts crying because he knows how hard it is for them to show their affection so blatantly
honey "helps" guy shave (they're just doing it for him)
guy does honey's hair for them
they're the type of couple to do different things in the bathroom at the same time (guy will be brushing his teeth while honey showers)
they watch celebrity scandal recap videos in bed together
honey has fallen asleep during one of guy's rants before (his voice relaxes them unfortunately)
honey is just as much of a menace to guy as he is to them
whenever anything happens, the other is always the first to know (work drama, family drama, big news etc.)
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strljaem · 9 months ago
Text
“i want my wisdom tooth back”
“ah wah ma wizum toof bah”
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It was early Saturday morning, and I was sweating buckets in the passenger seat of Jaemin's car. Jaemin glanced at me as we stopped at a red light, his hand finding mine. "It's gonna be fine," he said, squeezing my hand gently. "You're just having your wisdom teeth out, it's not like they're removing your actual wisdom."
I didn't laugh at his joke, which probably scared him a little, but I was too nervous to even smile. I was about to have two wisdom teeth pulled, and the thought of sharp objects in my mouth was not my idea of a fun weekend. Jaemin drove on, his soothing voice trying to calm me down with stories about the latest drama in his gaming guild. I think he even mentioned something about his cat getting stuck in a shoebox, but I was too focused on the upcoming appointment to really pay attention.
The dentist's office was everything you'd expect: sterile, white, and full of equipment that looked like medieval torture devices. Jaemin led me to the front counter, where a cheerful nurse with glasses perched on her nose asked for my name. I squeaked out my name, and she nodded, telling us to take a seat and wait for my name to be called.
I sat down on a hard plastic chair, clutching Jaemin's hand like it was my only lifeline. He caressed my fingers and smiled at me, his grin warm and reassuring. "You're doing great," he said. "Just remember to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth."
It wasn't long before the doctor called my name. Jaemin and I stood up together, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked into the treatment room. The doctor was a tall man with a big smile. He looked at Jaemin and then at me. "Is he your boyfriend?" he asked, grinning.
"Yes," I replied, my voice trembling.
The doctor chuckled and gestured for me to sit in the dentist's chair. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," he said, motioning for me to lean back. The nurse came in, and they began to prepare for the procedure. There was some kind of mask, a lot of beeping equipment, and a tray full of shiny, terrifying tools. I was having second thoughts about this whole thing, but Jaemin was standing right beside me, holding my hand and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb.
The doctor adjusted the mask over my nose and mouth and said, "This is just laughing gas. You'll be asleep for a bit, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." I nodded, trying to stay calm as the gas started to take effect. Jaemin pulled out his phone and started recording, which, looking back, was a little mean, but hey, it's not every day you get to see your significant other on laughing gas.
Everything started to get a little fuzzy, and the last thing I saw before I fell asleep was Jaemin's reassuring smile.
I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I felt like I was on a cloud made of cotton candy. Jaemin was still there, holding my hand and watching me with a smirk on his face. I tried to sit up, but the room spun, and I fell back into the chair.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice all slurred and groggy.
Jaemin chuckled. "You're at the dentist. You just had your wisdom teeth out, remember?"
I blinked at him, my eyes heavy and unfocused. "You're so handsome," I said, my voice dreamy and totally without a filter.
The doctor and nurse laughed, and Jaemin just shook his head, his cheeks turning a little red. "Thanks," he said, helping me to sit up carefully. "Let's get you to the car, sleepyhead."
He walked me out to the parking lot, his arm around my waist to keep me steady. I was still in a daze, but at least I had my handsome boyfriend to guide me. He helped me into the car, buckled my seatbelt, and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
"See? That wasn't so bad," he said as he started the car.
I groaned, my mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls. "I need a smoothie," I mumbled.
Jaemin grinned. "Smoothie it is," he said, and off we went, my wisdom teeth somewhere in a biohazard bag, but my heart firmly in the hands of the sweetest boyfriend ever.
Jaemin drove carefully out of the parking lot, glancing over at me every few moments to make sure I wasn't about to topple over. My head was lolling a bit, and my cheeks were swollen like a chipmunk's. The gauze in my mouth felt weird, and my brain was still foggy from the anesthesia.
As we turned onto the main road, I suddenly had a thought. It seemed important, like one of those random ideas that feels like a breakthrough even though it's completely silly. I turned to Jaemin, my words garbled and slow because of the gauze.
"I want my wisdom tooth back," I mumbled, trying to sound serious, but it came out more like, "Ah wah ma wizum toof bah."
Jaemin looked at me, puzzled at first, then he burst out laughing. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. "What are you going to do with your wisdom tooth?"
I tried to explain, but the gauze and the anesthetic made everything difficult. "I... I just want it... you know, like a trophy," I slurred, feeling oddly proud of the idea.
Jaemin was still laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm pretty sure the dentist keeps those," he said, patting my shoulder. "Trust me, you don't want it back."
I groaned, feeling a bit disappointed. "But... but... it's mine," I insisted, though it sounded more like, "Bah... bah... izz mine."
Jaemin just laughed harder, his hand squeezing my shoulder as he drove. "We'll get you a nice smoothie, how about that? It's way better than a bloody tooth."
I grumbled something unintelligible, but even in my dazed state, I could tell his laughter was infectious. The rest of the drive was filled with Jaemin chuckling at my silly, half-conscious remarks about reclaiming my wisdom tooth, while I occasionally moaned in exaggerated despair.
In the end, I might not have gotten my tooth back, but I definitely got the best care and a whole lot of laughter from the sweetest guy I knew. Maybe I'd settle for a smoothie and some ice cream, as long as Jaemin was there to share them with me.
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