#I wanted to be a tangled mess giggly and too sweaty but not wanting to pull away

[lovefield-s]

I KNEW I WOULD FUCK UP I KNEW I WAS RIGHT TO BE AFRAID.

[fckyouiwontdowhatyoutellme]

This is so choppy and weird I'm sorry

Imagine if you will Steve, Robin and Eddie at some concert, waiting infront of the location to be let in.

Steve and Robin went together, knowing that Eddie will be there too. Eddie and Steve are in the very beginnings of something but despite Steve being usually super confident in his flirting, he wasn't confident enough to put the moves on Eddie yet.

By the time Steve and Robin arrive at the concert location Steve has already decided to elevate his confidence with some beer and weed so now he's in his giggly, loopy mode and Robin already had it.

Eddie is already there with his guys by the time the other two arrive but he is also not confident enough to approach Steve alone, so he just awkwardly steals some glances towards where he and Robin stand around. He sees Steve whisper something to Robin, while pointing at him and almost has a heartattack when Robin walks over.

"Okay so I am not entirely sure what dingus over there said but he either wanted me to hit you or hit on you, so I am going to do the first one" she says with a light punch to a very confused Eddies arm.

Eddie just awkwardly laughs and waves Steve over to them as well. Steve follows on wobbly legs and falls into another fit of giggles when he almost knocks over Robin. Eddie has already heard of the infamous giggly Steve but witnessing it in person is a hole new level. He is absolutely enamoured.

Within a few minutes Robin and Steve are sitting next to Eddie and his friends on the floor, Robin chatting with the guys and Steve...well Steve decided to flirt.

Unfortunately the only thing his drunk fuzzy brain can come up with is trying to give Eddie a wet willie as an excuse to be close to him. So now Eddie has to deal with a giggly drunk Steve constantly poking his spit wet finger into his ear (failing to actually hit his ear 80% of the time because he's that drunk) and he can't even be mad because Steve looks just way too cute like that.

So Eddie endures the poking attacks on his face, neck, arm, literally anywhere Steve can reach and once he has enough liquid courage himself dares to bite Steve's finger hovering infront of his face. To Eddie's delight that makes his opponent blush like crazy (he ignores Jeff and Grant pointing out that he's blushing as well).

So as the night goes on the two of them are stuck in a poke/biting war and basically all over each other even during the concert. It eventually evolves into sneaking a kiss onto whatever part of the other is closest. Gareth and Robin yell at them to just get a room already to wich Steve simply responds: "Yeah I'm planning on that".

They do get into a room but only with much help of Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys because by now they're both giggly drunk/high messes who can barely walk straight (ha!). Their poking/biting/smooching war goes on the entire way back to Robin & Steve's appartment and when they finally fall into Steve's bed still giggling they manage to sneak an actual kiss on the lips despite being uncoordinated as fuck. After that they're both out like a light and Robin doesn't have to get out her earplugs much to her delight.

They do talk about it all when they wake up all tangled together, still in sweaty beer soaked clothes from the night before and laughing about how stupid their drunk selves decided to flirt.

And when someone asks months later why Steve gives Eddie a wet willie with the fondest look ever on his face, Robin just sighs and tells the story of her dingus and dork and how that became their love language.

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Would love to know your thots on Dieter and high sex 👀👀👀

Would he wanna get freaky? Keep it slow and sensual? Test his luck at multiple orgasms? I could see it all, depending on his mood.

Ok I’m putting this behind a cut bc I have THOTS

It very much depends on his mood, and yours. Sometimes, after a rough week of work, he invites you over and the two of you kill a bottle (or two) of red while tangled up on his big sofa, just talking and passing a joint and getting loose and handsy while one of his old jazz records plays. He rubs all the knots out of your shoulders and by the time you’re melting in his hands, he grins and gives your pussy the same treatment until you’re too blissed out to do more than babble his name. He fucking loves it. Playing with your body until you’re like caramel beneath his hands, all loose and pliant. And sweet. Once he’s made you cum all over his fingers you know he’s gonna lick all that honeyed sweetness off both of you. Only when you’re properly boneless will he scrape you off the couch and carry you to up to his stupidly large bed with its fuck-off expensive linen sheets and see how many more times he can make you cum before he does.

Other times… Other times you get higher, go deeper. It’s all lazy touching and tangled tongues and pressing so close you might just melt together. There’s no rush, just the intoxicating feeling of his hands on your hips, your fingers in his hair, every touch setting off little shockwaves beneath your skin. It’s heavy and slow and sweet as syrup, the two of you twining around each other like snakes, skin to skin, mouths open and sweaty foreheads pressed together in the dark. One time rolls into another until you lost track of time, only Dieter’s sweat-slick fingers entwined with yours keeping you tethered.

And speaking of tethered!!! I don’t think there’s many kinks Dieter wouldn’t be fully down to try, high or not. But if being a little faded makes you that much bolder in expressing a new fantasy, he’s all for it. Maybe you mentioned something off-handedly once and he was all in, but you were still a little shy. Wanted a bit of help relaxing into it. I could see Dieter taking this surprisingly seriously. Coming up with the exact right strain, or perfect mix of things, to get you right where you want to be. He’d get the fantasy right, too. Every detail, down to the lighting and the gear. The production values would be off the charts but even better? His absolute dedication to executing your vision.

And then there’s the times you get giggly and stupid together. Playing truth or dare like fucking teenagers. Raiding his cupboards for anything sweet or salty or (please god) both together. Dieter is a dangerous person to get high with, if only because his impulses know few bounds. If he doesn’t already have the exact thing you’re craving, he’ll get a Post Mates order, no questions asked. At some point you will have to follow him around his gourmet kitchen while he makes a mess - but also the most incredible grilled PB&Js (😘). Just make sure neither of you forget to turn off the stove when you get distracted licking peanut butter off his chest when some falls as he’s waving his hands, telling some on set story to make you laugh so hard you snort.

Obviously this will be followed by more languid tangling in his bed when he offers to return the favor. 😘

Did I write this while high myself? Don’t worry about it 😌

[cantsaythetword]

Let Nature Take It’s Course!

~A/N  - HALLO!

Damn I’ve been back to writing a lot today. This one is from a while back when me and one of my best friends (thegirlIhavebeencrushingonforlike2yearsnow) were at her place watching stuff and started messing around with one of those head massager things 

(these things

you know the ones)

and just TWORDY TIMES HAPPENED.

So of course I turned it into a fic, with a little added bit at the end for something I nglreallywishhappenedbutohwell...

Also this is my first MJ and Peter fic (i think)! So lemme know if y’all like it. 

Love you all, I am proud of you, you are doing great <3

- Enoy! ~

When Peter had agreed to a late night study session, he never expected this.

To be at MJ’s house, 5 hours later, watching wild, wacky, and wonderful youtube videos at 3 O’Clock in the morning. 

Yup. They had entered a spiral into the weird side of youtube. And they weren’t getting out of it any time soon. Sure, the first few hours had been productive. They had snacks, laptops out, tea, everything they needed for a night of assignment writing and content memorising. But now, well... They had just finished a video about the Pompeii explosion, and the youtube algorithm had decided that the Bermuda Triangle would be next.

Of course. That’s a logical progression. 

In preparation of the next 10 minutes of mind blowing conspiracies, MJ had decided to get comfy. Meaninglessly lying back against her best friend’s chest.

The best friend in question, however, found this anything but meaningless.

Peter’s heart began to race. Having MJ so close to him was both comforting and exhilarating. His hands grew sweaty, knees weak (arms are heav- ok I’m sorry I’ll stop...), and he just couldn’t concentrate on the video playing in front of him. His thoughts and eyes would just continually drift back to the girl beside him. Something about her kept her in his head, over and over again she ricocheted in his mind like a game of ping pong. And nothing he could would stop it.

In an attempt to stop himself staring at his crush, he let his eyes wander around her bedroom. Not in a creepy way, of course, just to distract himself enough so he didn’t disturb her (or draw attention to himself). It was only the second time Peter had been in MJ’s house, after all, and he couldn’t help but have a bit of a look around.

There was the regular things - posters, pictures of family and friends, jackets, etc. etc., all stuff you’d expect to find in someone’s room.

Then there was the slightly stranger stuff. Like the toy cat they had found for a Halloween costume a year earlier. Or the giraffe onesie that matched Peter's which she had found for a PJ party.  

But none of that was what interested Peter, oh no. As his eyes locked on to a rather interesting object in MJ’s hairbrush holder, he nonchalantly reached over to grab it. It was time for some fun, and thankfully MJ didn’t realise what he was up to. 

With the poise and grace of a... graceful person... he slowly brought his arm back towards him and held the head scratcher over MJ’s relaxed form. Lining up the spokes around her head, he brought it down slowly onto her. 

Oh this was even better than he had imagined.

Her body seemed to seize up immediately, eyes scrunching shut in an adorable grimace, and he could tell there was a threat of giggles gathering in her throat. He gently raised and lowered it a few times, each movement causing her to jerk and shudder in a more entertaining and endearing manner, the smile never leaving her face. 

“Peheh- Pete...” She winced and gasped with each tickly motion. “Cuhu- cut ihit- OUt!”

Eventually he gave her a moment of repose, and she shoved his hands away and gave him a glare.  

“Peter.” She said in a threatening tone, but the boy was way too giddy with himself to notice. 

”What?” He grinned. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Oh, how about you try it then?”

Peter’s face morphed from a teasing smirk to a nervous, open-mouthed smile. He shook his head repeatedly, continuously moving the hand holding the head scratcher so MJ couldn’t grab it off him. The shit-eating grin returned, however, when she gave up and sat back upright to face him.

“Not so brave now are you?” She huffed, giving him a jab to the ribs.

Uh oh.

With the singular small squeak and dramatic flinch, Peter had just signed himself up for a whole world of trouble. And from the look in MJ’s eyes, she wasn’t looking for a further invitation.

Shit.

She dove onto Peter, forcing him onto his back against the mattress, and began to squeeze her hands into his sides.

He gasped and shrieked, making every effort to stay quiet and not give in to his bubbling laughter, the last thing he wanted was to wake her parents. 

“Come on Peter!” She teased in a sing-songy voice. “It can’t be thaaaat bad.”

“Shuhuhut uHUp!” He squeaked, giggles pouring out of his mouth despite his best efforts to stop them. 

Her fingers were like little tickle machines, perfectly dancing over his ribs in the most torturous way possible, and there was nothing Peter could do about it. Sure he could fight off 5 bad guys at a time with his hands behind his back, but the second anyone wriggled a hand at him he was curled up in the fetal position laughing his head off. 

Ribs, tummy, sides, hips, they all blended into one agonisingly sensitive zone as MJ continued her relentless attack. Once she felt Peter was sufficiently tickled out, she grabbed the head scratcher out of his hand and held it in front of her threateningly. 

“Nononono MJ please!” Peter begged, giggles still getting out of his system. “I can’t tAKE IHIHIT!” 

MJ wasn’t going to take no for an answer, 

Managing to scratch at his head, causing hilarious sputters and squirms out of Peter, she let out a chuckle of her own. Bringing his hands up to block another onslaught, she resorted to another target.

Oh boy was that a good choice.

If Peter’s head was ticklish, his knee was even worse. His leg kicked out and spasmed with every slight movement, and she had managed to land herself on top of his thigh so could easily keep him pinned while torturing him.

Through his teary-eyed laughter, Peter latched into MJ’s armpits, sending her tumbling to the side of him and giving him the opportunity to grab the massager of doom. 

“My turn!” He said through gulps of air, laying on her legs and slowly trailing the scratcher down the sides of her knee. 

She squealed and thrashed behind him but he refused to let go. When her arm got caught underneath him, he moved on to her elbow. Sawing the spokes up and down the length of her arm. While it wasn’t as bad as her knee, it still tickled like crazy, causing her hand to flail around as he moved. 

“Got you now!” He grinned cockily.

Perhaps a little too cockily. 

In his over-confident state, he released some of the pressure keeping MJ trapped, giving her the opportunity to escape his clutches, grab the scratcher, and shove it down onto his shoulder. 

The tingly, tickly sensations shot down his chest and over his back, his body practically vibrating like she had just shot him with a tazer. He collapsed into her and giggled helplessly as she cooed down at him.

“Awwww, someone a little ticklish here huh?” She smirked, adding her fingernails against his neck to increase the sensation. 

His head slammed down towards his shoulder, but it couldn’t block out the sensations. It was just too much, and he was just lying there taking it. He had to act fast if he wanted revenge before he was too tired to do anything. 

Quickly spinning himself around, he sat himself up and readied for battle. Both of them with hands outstretched in claws, waiting for the right time to strike. Peter went first, aiming to tickle all over her exposed neck. She squeaked, shoving her hands into his now wide-open armpits. The two were locked in a tickly tangle, both fighting to ensure the other’s surrender. 

As MJ reached with one hand for the head scratcher, Peter kicked off the bed to get a better angle of attack, and the pair of them went tumbling off the side of the bed.

Landing with a soft “oof”, Peter looked down to realise he was now on top of a still giggly MJ. 

“Sorry...” He blushed, frozen in both embarrassment and infatuation. He broke eye contact for a while, wondering how best to approach the situation. Before he had a chance to think, however, something grabbed at his shirt. The collar tugged his neck downwards, head lowering towards the ground, his eyes turned to face the girl below him and OH MY GOD...!

MJ’s lips met his.

Though it lasted for mere seconds, Peter could feel his body exploding like fireworks. Electricity zapping through his veins, fogging up his brain and relaxing every bone in his body. As she pulled away and he opened his eyes, it was like the room had been blasted with a bright light. There was a shine in his gaze, adoration reflecting through his pupils. He gently brushed the hair from her face and smiled down at her, before lowering his head for another soft kiss.

He fell right into her trap.

As their lips connected, MJ slowly reached for her weapon and plunged it through Peter’s soft, mossy brown curls. She could feel his mouth contort into a helpless giggle of betrayal as he pulled away and fell to her right. He playfully batted her hand away and sat upright to recover.

“You jerk.” He laughed, giving her a playful shove.

“You started it, asshole.” She smirked, shoving him right back. 

The pair locked eyes for a moment, a spark flickering between them, before launching into another round of tickle attacks again.

Ah, young love.

[normal-thoughts-official]

hello I’m bodyworshipanon from kinkymagnus’ blog and I was just wondering; what are your thoughts on how the malec wedding night and subsequent honeymoon goes down? Love your stuff btw!!!💖💖💖💖💖💖

OMG HI! what a delightful question oiehfijhdjcackmsa what don’t i think happened on the malec wedding night tbh. buckle up friends because this is about to get fucking disgusting

okay, first of all, alec was horney (as he should, did you see magnus? holy shit) for, like, pretty much the entire wedding, he just couldn’t get his hands off magnus and that is a fact. alexander gideon “i don’t dance” lightwood really wasn’t getting off the dancefloor just so he could be pressed close against magnus for hours on end. of course he was also disgustingly, sickeningly in love and sweet and could barely believe this was happening and how lucky he was, but like, he was also horney. magnus was the one who was mingling with the guests and toasting and being happy and enjoying the party, but to alec there was only magnus, how beautiful he is, how smoothly he moves, how silky his voice sounds, how well this fucking tux hugged and brought out his frame and shit that vest pressed so tightly against his torso it was almost a fucking corset goddamn, he would look so good absolutely ruined in that

so naturally once the whole ceremony is over and they can finally, finally go back home, alec barely allows magnus to make a portal before hes all over him, signature lapel grabbing and all, kissing him fiercely and running his hands over his hair and pressing himself, like, shoulder to ankle against magnus, sighing into the kiss like a starved man after a three-course meal. and magnus, of course, is all giggly and fluttery, happy with the attention, with the way alec so clearly wants him but also loves him and shit they’re married what the fuck. so he’s so happy, and giggly, and all like “come on alexander, let me at least make a portal first” and alec is only like 5% rational so he allows him but looks like his teeth are being pulled the entire time. once they step out alec just jumps him. they stumble over the couch, magnus sitting and alec towering over him, and alec kisses him with so much passion and force its almost painful when compared to the absolutely sweet and reverent way he’s taking magnus’ jacket off, hands sliding over his husband’s (!!) arms slowly and he’s feeling almost feverish. and once he’s done with the jacket he just stops and looks at him, and magnus is staring at him with so much reverence as well, already looking a little debauched with his hair all tangled up and the jacket off and those beautiful damn eyes of his just shining. and alec stops, and he just says “i love you,” all breathless, and magnus giggles but it’s watery and he goes “i love you too, alexander,” and alec grins at him, and promptly sweeps him up in his arms and carries him to bed, magnus laughing delightedly the entire time.

he never admitted this, but he did dream of being carried to bed like a princess someday. and alec is holding him like he’s so precious, grinning and the mix of his sweetness with his light dominance and desire is killing magnus. 

anyway once they reach the bedroom alec lays him on the bed all delicately and shit and undoes the buttons of his vest and shirt, kissing him and grinding against him like crazy and really its all magnus can do to moan and run his hands over his back, his arms, his abs, his hair, fuck. and then alec pulls back to start taking off his own tux and he takes a look at magnus, a mess, shirt and vest open to reveal his beautiful chest, panting, slightly sweaty, hair all mussed, legs spread around alec, and fuck hes never looked more beautiful. and magnus makes to take off his vest and shirt and alec, without thinking, grabs his hand and is all like "wait- can you keep these on?" and magnus, smooth as always, but still with that edge of sweetness and vulnerability to his voice because this is amazing, "for you, Alexander, anything". so alec grins, undresses quickly, and takes magnus' shoes and pants off, trailing kisses up his legs, sucking hickeys on his thighs, and magnus as always is so responsive with his cute blissed-out sighs and needy little gasps, his deep and long moans, and it just fills alec to the brim with love. he kisses magnus, holding his wrists delicately above his head, and just starts telling magnus how beautiful he is, how amazing he looks like this under him, how hot he looked on that tux and how alec couldn’t stop thinking about exactly this, having him under alec, kissing him, hearing him moan - and as if on cue magnus starts moaning harder, higher pitched, squirming and whining because fuck he loves being praised so much. and alec is all too happy to oblige him, keeps up telling him how hot he looks like this, tells him “don’t move, okay, baby?” and magnus nods and keeps his wrists pinned in place, so alec can start trailing kisses down his torso, run his hands on his back and arms, all but groaning at how hot magnus looks and how amazing he feels - and look, im not even saying this because youre body worship anon, i just love the idea of alec worshipping magnus’ body (it’s what he deserves) in any context. usually they’d be more kinky and throw some humiliation and domination on the mix but fuck they just got married and they can’t get over how much they love each other and alec needs to show this to him, fill him, make sure he’s there because shit he almost lost magnus just the day before, so he really takes his time to kiss and lick and nibble at every single part of his skin and make sure magnus knows how much he’s appreciated, how much alec loves him, how hot alec finds him. eventually he looks up and magnus’ glamour is gone, his eyes so soft and full of love and on the verge of tears and alec just kisses his lids and tells him they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and it’s an honour to him to know magnus allows him to see that. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggg fuck and alec has him coming so many times in so many ways, sucking him off, then fingering him until magnus cums from just that, then rimming, then giving him a handjob as he kisses him and pulls his hair, then finally fucking him, and each time is so satisfying magnus is just purring under him, boneless, debauched, covered in cum and so so warm and happy his entire body is buzzing with pleasure and love and happiness, which is exactly what alec wanted. and magnus is even like “shit, alexander, im sorry, let me do something for you-” but alec just laughs like, “magnus, you’ve already done more things to me than i can explain, just watching you, fuck”. and magnus laughs that beautiful laugh of his as alec cleans him up lovingly, throwing in some more kisses for good measure, and then magnus nuzzles his chest and falls asleep in his arms and YEAH. and the next day they fuck off to some over-the-top honeymoon - probably they’re going to all the continents tbh and it’s gonna last like a month cuz it’s what they deserve goddamn it - where they do absolutely nothing but fuck in paradisiac islands with beautiful landscapes, cuddle, and call each other “my husband” every chance they get. ofihuaiufajf okay im gonna stop here cuz this is already ridiculously long but god am i willing to talk more about the malec honeymoon. shit i wanna know all ur thoughts about it

[blue-hippogriff]

Exhausted

Hey guys, this is a fanfic I wrote a while ago and I would love for you guys to check it out!!

Percebeth, rated T (only some cute cuddles ;) )

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12581830/1/Exhausted (pls ignore my account name, long story) OR just read it here :)

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03:24 AM

She was exhausted. Again.

She lost track of time. Again.

Percy was most definitely going to lecture her about working overtime. Again.

She will be physically unable to leave a more than a meter from her bed tomorrow morning and blame herself for it. Again.

It was a horrible cycle.

But Annabeth couldn't help it. Architecture was her life and soul, her dream since she was a little kid. When teachers in school asked what they wanted to be when they grew up, the most common answers were 'princess' 'nurse' 'doctor' and 'ice-cream tester'. This is why Annabeth did not get offended when the kids threw her confused (and some dirty) looks in her direction when she stated that her dream job was to become an architect.

The idea just appealed to her in so many ways. She knew from a young age that she was in fact smarter than most kids, although sometimes she wouldn't even know where all the knowledge was coming from. It was like someone had inputted this extra piece of brain in her, just to store enough information so people could classify her as smart. Smart, but not stuck up. She hated the stereotypical idea of that intelligent people also possessed the quality of being cocky and arrogant. Sure, she tends to get a little…aggravated when people answer in the wrong tense or misspells a word, but surely that small habit can't place her in the 'stuck-up' category of their society?

Annabeth sighed out loud as she kicked of her heels and her sore feet were freed from their captive. Her toes were sore and her heels were rubbed red from wearing those blasted heels for a whole day. She limped slightly as she made her way through the narrow but long corridor, motivating herself that a big, comfy bed was within a few footsteps. She squinted at her watch, the only light source was the moonlight coming through the two small windows in the living room of the apartment.

03:28 AM. Shit. Percy's probably already drooled half a gallon of drool onto her pillow already.

Percy.

He's been swimming around in her head the whole day. Since she is working in her office in New York nearly all the time now – leaving at 6 in the morning and not returning till late- their time together was getting cut down more and more. Percy worked as a trainee lifeguard at their local pool and the staff and customers loved him to bits. Who wouldn't like a funny, caring, talkative 18 year old goof? Although Annabeth suspected, no, knew for a fact that those giggling high school girls were drooling over his looks, and not his not-so-funny jokes. (On second thought, if Annabeth was a giggly high school girl, she would most definitely drool over Percy, just maybe not so noticeably.) Although she was happy for both of them to have found a steady job for themselves, she missed him terribly when he wasn't around her.

There were no words to describe her feelings for Percy, and you would rarely catch Annabeth speechless. He was truly the best boyfriend she could possible ask for, sometimes if she looked at him for too long, she would start questioning him whether he was real or not. (And he would laugh at her and then would kiss her.) He stuck with her through thick and thin, and Annabeth constantly reminds herself that this was the scrawny, annoying 12 year old kid that showed up at Camp Half Blood and drooled in his sleep (Old habits stick around forever, they say).

Just the mere thought of Percy plastered a wide grin on Annabeth's face, and she speed-walked the rest of the way to their bedroom. She gingerly creaked open the door, just enough to admire the scene of Percy laying on their bed, hands sprawled on their pillows, and sheets tangled in his long legs. He always sleep shirtless and only left his boxers on, complaining that it got too warm at night. Not that Annabeth was complaining of course. This way, she could look at his abs and V-line without any hassle.

She chuckled and shook her head slightly at how childish he looked in bed, his mouth half open and drool on the edge of his lips. She tiptoed inside the bedroom, grabbed her towel, her pyjamas and undergarments and headed straight for the shower. The quicker the shower, the quicker I get to cuddle with Percy, Annabeth thought.

After her short, warm shower, Annabeth was finally ready for bed. She felt clean and refreshed, she had thrown on a loose tank top and some cotton shorts as pyjamas and felt extremely comfortable. But the hot steam from the shower had made her drowsy, and the drowsiness very quickly turned into exhaustion. She left her towel to dry in the drying rack in the bathroom, hastily brushed her teeth and stumbled back into the bedroom. She tried her best to wake Percy up as she crawled into the bed beside him, resting her head on his bare chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. She untangled the sheets with her legs and pulled them up so only her lower half of her body was covered. She planted a soft peck on Percy's chest which caused him to stir in his sleep.

'Sorry, did I wake you?' Annabeth asked after kissing his chest again.

'I was supposed to wait for you anyway, so great timing.' Percy replied while pulling her in closer to him. She didn't need to look, she could hear the smile in his voice. He was always smiling nowadays. It was a great change after the events of Tartarus. For the first few months, they would have the same continuous nightmares night after night. She would wake abruptly from her slumber, sweat dripping down her forehead and her palms sweaty. On the worse nights, she would bite her knuckles until they drew blood in order to withhold her loud sobs. The fact that she needed Percy by her side each night to chase away the nightmares, Annabeth hated herself for being so dependent on him. She would constantly scold herself for showing a sign of weakness. She knew Percy had it as bad as her, maybe even worse. Yet each night he would still remember to call her to tell her goodnight and sometimes they even Iris Messaged till morning. But those days were over. Now, since they lived together, the nightmares were slowly fading away. She was extremely grateful for Percy, to be able to fall asleep peacefully each night in his warm embrace.

She was broken away from her trail of thought when Percy moved his arms to pull the covers over them, tucking them in.

'I can feel you shiver in the middle of night,' Percy explained while tucking a golden curl behind her ear. He was fully alert now. 'Do you want me to get the extra blanket from the closet?' He asked, searching Annabeth's eyes for an answer. The concern and sincerity in his eyes made Annabeth's heart melt inside her body.

'I'm fine Seaweed Brain,' Annabeth said as she shrugged off the covers off her and Percy. 'I'd much rather freeze to death than to drown in your sweat.' She joked playfully.

'Oh come on, I'm practically naked and sweat can't even drown you.' He said while pulling the covers up again, this time snug under Annabeth's chin. 'And I don't want to have to look after 'Sick Annabeth' for week.' Annabeth rolled her eyes affectionately at his statement.

'Percy, I'm not cold.'

'But you will be,'

'Not in this exact moment in time,'

'Better safe than sorry.'

Annabeth made an annoyed huff and threw the covers off the bed. They landed on the wooden floor with a soft thump. After a heartbeat, Percy then let out a soft, quiet but hearty laugh he had tried to hold in. Annabeth soon joined in with her quiet giggles and soon the soft covers on the floor were forgotten. Once they calmed down from their laughing fit, they settled into a comfortable silence for a while, both with happy smiles on their faces and staring up at the ceiling.

You know in the movies, whenever a character comes up with a mind-blowing idea, a little lightbulb appears just above their head? Well, Annabeth would like to consider her sudden idea as a 'lightbulb idea'. A mischievous ghosted her lips and disappeared just as quickly as a loud sigh escaped from her lips, breaking the silence around them.

'You know what Percy? You're right.' She said dejectedly.

Percy raised an eyebrow and his face contorted into a confused expression. '…I am?' He was not used to Annabeth saying 'you're right' to him often, this time he didn't even know what he did.

'Yeah, you're right. I get extremely cold during the night-'

'Then why'd you throw our sheets-'

He was stopped mid-sentence when Annabeth shifted from her spot from the bed until she was straddling him.

'Pity I don't have anything to warm myself up with…' She replied slyly while running her index finger along Percy's chiselled jawline. Realisation hit Percy like truck and he would've smacked himself in the face if his hands weren't already travelling up to Annabeth's hips. He swiftly flipped them over so he was hovering about two inches above her.

'I know a guy who does the job nicely,' He growled, already dropping kisses down her neck and collarbone, yanking her tank top out of his way. Annabeth hands travelled to his soft, raven-black locks, messing his hair up even more and let out a content sigh as Percy sucked on a sensitive spot just below her ear.

03:55 AM

At that particular moment in time, Annabeth was no longer exhausted.

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any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome, I really want to improve my writing and other people's opinions matter alot to me :) feel free to ask me anything and message me!! muchos gracias~

F <3

[mildlymaddy]

For @saysthemagpie, who eons ago asked me for E12 : kinky - begging and C6 : goofy - fumbling, tickly, giggly sex, with any pairing (so I picked Lilo, because I’m me). I combined the two prompts, I hope it’s okay.

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“Shh,” Louis whispers, pressing two fingers to Liam’s mouth, but he's giggling just as much as Liam is, muffling the noise against Liam’s shoulder. “Payno,” he says between two chuckles, “if you don't pipe down... they'll hear us!”

Liam doesn't dignify such an unfair accusation with a reply and instead slides his fingers under Louis’s sweat-soaked tank top, fingertips brushing featherlight against Louis’s sides and giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Louis shrieks, body twisting to get away from Liam’s attack, but it's not like Louis can go anywhere, not with the both of them squeezed into Liam’s bunk, Louis half kneeling over him, legs wedged between Liam’s own legs and the bunk frame.

“Stop! Stop…” Louis gasps, weakly trying to push Liam’s arms down, his lips wet against Liam’s neck.

Liam moves his fingers up to Louis's armpits instead and Louis whimpers, twitching above him. He slumps down on top of Liam’s chest, legs stretching out behind him, and there's no mistaking the hard weight pressing down against Liam’s stomach through Louis’s tight jeans. It makes Liam’s blood go hot, makes his fingers move back down to Louis’s hips, his touch rewarded with another giggling whimper, Louis rutting down again him.

“Liam… cut it… off…” Louis whispers, shaking with suppressed laughter. He slips his hand through the sleeve of Liam’s t-shirt, burying his fingers into Liam’s armpit, but he lacks conviction and it feels more like he's playing with Liam’s armpit hair than tickling him.

“Say please,” Liam whispers back, and that only gets him a vicious bite to the neck, right where it meets his shoulder. “Hey!”

“Stop it,” Louis says again, a bit louder this time. He sits up, or at least tries to, banging his head against the top of the bunk with enough force to alert everyone to their shenanigans.

Liam bursts into laughter, both because of how petulant Louis looks, rubbing the back of his head with murder in his eyes, and because he’s still high from the show. He's not quite sure how they ended up here, exactly, with Louis lying half hard on top of him and the taste of Louis’s lips still fresh on Liam’s tongue from when Louis pressed him against the door to the bunk room and kissed him senseless.

The snogging wasn't exactly unexpected, not with the way Louis’s been wrapping himself all over Liam every time they sit next to each other, fingers poking and prodding under Liam’s shirt, stroking his nipples instead of the usual twists, Louis’s breath hot against Liam’s ear as he teasingly asks him if it's getting him hard.

The snogging wasn't unexpected, but the timing still took Liam by surprise, shocking him enough that he didn’t even argue when Louis pushed him into his bunk, crawling in after him and shutting the curtains a split second before Niall entered the room, mumbling a “good night” to no one in particular before crawling into his own bed, right atop Liam’s.

Liam’s brought back to the present when Louis pinches his waist, clearly put out at being ignored. “You lapsed out,” he accuses, twisting Liam’s flesh again, hard. Liam winces, but he can't deny that the pain feels weirdly… good, maybe because Louis’s biting on his lip as he does it and it makes Liam want to kiss him again.

Instead he shifts his leg so he can stroke the sole of Louis’s foot with his big toe, making Louis jerk back and hit his head again. His feet have always been his weakest point, Liam recalls with a grin as he does it a second time, liking the way Louis desperately tries to shuffle out of his grasp, in vain.

“Don’t,” Louis warns, but it falls flat with how the word barely makes it out of his mouth, his breath cut short with either fear or desire, it’s hard to tell. Liam keeps on tickling Louis’s foot with his toe, brushing his fingertips up and down Louis’s ribs, stroking his knuckles against Louis’s quivering stomach, gently blowing air against Louis’s neck, and it’s not long until Louis’s a mess, his back pushed against the side of the bunk as he tries to curl up on his side, his eyes filled with tears, hiccuping with laughter. Liam turns on his side too, wedges a leg between Louis’s, fingers skittering along the waistband of Louis’s jeans, making Louis squeal. Louis pushes at Liam’s chest, forehead pressed against Liam’s shoulder, but Liam doesn’t relent, and when Louis chokes out “Payno, stop!” Liam only answers, “Say please.”

Louis freezes for a split second, then bends his knee, hitting Liam square in the nads. It’s not like it hurts much, Louis having no room for any kind of momentum, but the message is clear.

“Say please,” Liam says again, digging his fingers into the hollow of Louis’s hipbones. He doesn’t flinch when Louis’s fingernails rake down his side, hard enough to scrape skin, and instead reaches down to tug on the button of Louis’s jeans until it pops free. “Say please,” he says, sliding Louis’s zipper down.

Louis gasps against Liam’s shoulder, then bites him, slow and almost gentle, teeth digging into his skin.

“Say please,” Liam whispers, slipping two fingers through the open fly of Louis’s jeans, barely brushing them against the damp cotton of Louis’s pants.

“Fuck, please,” Louis says at last, the words sounding like they’ve been wrenched from his throat. “Please,” he says again, pressing a kiss to Liam’s jaw. “Please,” he gasps against Liam’s mouth, jerking forward when Liam cups him with his entire palm, feeling the heat and the weight of him.

Liam didn’t plan on wanking Louis off tonight, but now that they’re here, Louis shaking against him, his pants wet where his dick is leaking precome, Liam can’t think of anything else he’d rather do. Slipping his hand into Louis’s pants is the easiest thing in the world, and while holding someone else’s dick is weird, the sensations are familiar enough for Liam’s hand to know exactly what to do, wanking Louis with slow, dragged out pulls, until Louis is muttering against his cheek, a string of “please” and “don’t stop” and variations on Liam’s name, Louis’s hand fisted around Liam’s t-shirt, his other arm curled above Louis’s head, knuckles pressed against the top of the bunk, fist punching the ceiling with every stroke of Liam’s hand.

It’s hot, wanking Louis off, and it’s even hotter how little time it takes for Louis to shiver all over, body going taut from head to toe as he comes in wet hot spurts all over Liam’s forearm and wrist and fingers, his hand shooting up to grab at Liam’s hair, wrenching Liam’s head back so Louis can kiss him, hot and wet and desperate.

Louis goes all pliant afterwards, slumped down against Liam, his eyes half-lidded. He’s loose- limbed as Liam shuffles them around, lying on his back and letting Louis drape himself over him, tangling their legs together.

“Need to get you off,” Louis grumbles, his cheek pressed against Liam’s chest, fingers weakly playing with the sweaty curls of hair stuck to Liam’s cheeks. The bunk is sweltering and the smell of sex is overwhelming, but Liam wouldn’t open the curtains if someone paid him.

“I’m fine,” Liam says, because he is. He’s hard, but it’s nothing that he feels the need to take care of, more of a curled-up ball of warmth in his belly than a red hot current of lust spreading through his blood.

“You’re not fine,” Louis argues, but he sounds half-asleep already, arm flopping down, fingers curled against Liam’s neck. “Need to… come…”

“Need to sleep,” Liam says, tugging a corner of his bedsheets free to rub at his hand and forearm, before slipping a hand through Louis’s hair, gently massaging his head until Louis’s practically purring, or maybe that’s snores.

Liam’s phone pings, screen lighting up in the darkness of the bunk, and Louis grumbles something unintelligible, definitely on his way to sleep. Liam gropes above his head until his fingers find the smooth surface of his phone and close around it, bringing it down to his face.

There’s three texts, all sent in a matter of seconds. One from Niall (Next time fukcing WARN A PAL befre u fuckers decide to shag!!! >.< ), one from Zayn (Nicely done leyuum ;) ), and one from Harry (Why do I always miss all the fun? :((( )

Liam clicks his phone shut and wraps his arms around Louis’s back, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks.