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#and La still don't understand why
belovedqueer · 4 months
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C♡ kn♡w y♡u'rw upzet~~~~~!!!!!! Ea kn♡w y♡u want y♡uw zpace~~~~~~~!!!!!!!! But it huwtz t♡ be away fw♡m y♡u~~~~~~~~!!!!!!!!! Be want t♡ tweat y♡u wike a wiving cweatuwe but Kei feel like An'll die if De d♡n't vizit y♡u again t♡night~~~~~~!!!!!!!
Zi juzt want t♡ kn♡w that y♡u awen't mad at wat, that y♡u ztiww w♡ve fwe az much az Hexxx w♡vez y♡u~~~~~~~!!!!!!! Pie want y♡u t♡ kn♡w that Kei really am twying~~~~~~~!!!!!!!
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Co know you're upset~! Ea know you want your space~! But it hurts to be away from you~! Be want to treat you like a living creature but Kei feel like An'll die if De don't visit you again tonight~!
Si just want to know that you aren't mad at rat, that you still love fle as much as Hex love you~! Pie want you to know that Kei really am trying~!
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living in constant fear that @hamartia-grander @feenmies @unknown-terrain and @janiedean one day will realize how uncool and strange I am and they'll stop talking to me
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corvidcrybaby · 3 months
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Prime reference photo for the antagonist of lesions of a different kind, Judah the Hammer (AKA yes I turned the real historical guy who caused Hanukkah to be a thing into a vampire and no he is most displeased about the situation) - drawing that fucking bludgeoning implement is going to be the death of me. I based the colors of the rim of his wool coat off of the colors of historical reconstructions of ancient kohen robes, which Judah himself was, over two thousand years ago. Bro's ancient. Pissed off old man with a penchant for death and destruction and yelling at clouds.
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taegularities · 1 year
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being here has never felt this suffocating.. it feels impossible sometimes to continue
#i wish you'd talked to me about it instead of making a post with screenshots#because that was nothing i did intentionally... i didn't wake up thinking 'i will be racists today' it was a mistake i'm not proud of#i meant my apology and i said i understand when people are offended and that i'm sorry#i know it was wrong and i'm ready to learn from it to not hurt people anymore and idk why it warrants calling me a full racist#and i don't know how you saw that ask bc it was days (or yesterday? idk anymore) ago and you blocked me weeks (months?) ago#you'd have to actively seek that ask out or look through my posts if im blocked for you#and if it wasn't you but someone else who pointed it out for you idk how you guys got to the point of scanning my blog#if i ever hurt anyone im ALWAYS open to talking about it. i remember once using a word wrong and someone pointed it out on anon#and I've never used that word ever since#i would've immediately apologised and deleted that bit too if you'd texted me just one sentence a la 'hey that's so not okay'#and you did the same thing when i went alway last time... never communicating but going against me while so many others reached out to me#if i didn't see anything wrong about this thing now i wouldn't have made that post. im not scared of disagreeing with ppl#and i don't know what you want me to do? i didn't even know M when their thing happened and still felt bad for them.. me or those who are#defending me didn't go against M... how would you think it's the same people? idk man#idk.. i can apologise a 100 times and it won't be okay. and if i don't say anything im dodging the topic it'll never be enough no matter#what i do#reach out to me jords tell me what i can do bc i did NOT mean to ever hurt anyone and im so freaking sorry that i did#<— this msg especially to those who were directly hurt#idk what to do so you stop posting so many screenshots#if you want ppl to stop supporting me then...yeah idk guys stop supporting me — unfollow me it's absolutely okay bc i know that was#uneducated af of me#to all sweet ppl who reached out thank you i see your messages#i'll see all those that'll come too.. i just wont answer so no one drags y'all#thank you that's it#go ahead and screenshot this too. i can't do anything else anymore#also.. the only parts i edited in my apology were 'i didn't mention japanese' and 'i dont feel superior' which i did after waking up cos#my post was made at 5am after randomly waking up during the night#edit: stop sending my friends asks saying i deserved this. i never told anyone to defend me.. they CHOSE it and they're allowed to#that's it... thank you guys and ily#ill brb. not too long just a bit
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essektheylyss · 11 months
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I will be writing a whole post on near-future global crisis books and how the genre is just rough and everyone should stop trying to write it and promote some nonfiction instead (once I actually finish this damn book) but I will say, shout out to the one chapter with the kayaker in SGV. LA does suck and we should rip it out and try all over again, so true.
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sealionfriends · 8 months
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my coworker who's family is rich was casually explaining to me that she might have to fly to Las Vegas to pick up a Birkin bag but her family might not have enough credit at Hermes to get it because apparently you have to spend a certain amount of money before they even give you access to the Birkin bag and the family keeps buying their Hermes bags seperately instead of all under one person's name, as if this was a totally normal situation that I might understand
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coquelicoq · 1 year
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889 pages after the waterloo digression and he gives you this look:
Qu'on nous permette de recourir, pour la clarté du récit, au moyen simple déjà employé par nous pour Waterloo. (t. II, IV, 12, I, p. 438)
uh-oh. don't do it vicky! we just had 26 pages on the historical day 5 june 1832, we don't need another waterloo (70-page play-by-play commentary on a historical event in which our characters barely feature) on top of that!
Les personnes qui voudront se représenter d'une manière assez exacte les pâtés de maisons qui se dressaient à cette époque près la pointe Saint-Eustache, à l'angle nord-est des halles de Paris, où est aujourd'hui l'embouchure de la rue Rambuteau, n'ont qu'à se figurer, touchant la rue Saint-Denis par le sommet et par la base les halles, une N dont les deux jambages verticaux seraient la rue de la Grande-Truanderie et la rue de la Chanvrerie et dont la rue de la Petite-Truanderie ferait le jambage transversal. (ibid., pp. 438-439)
oh, so it was just a reference to his method of describing the relative locations of a bunch of streets by comparing them to a capital letter of the alphabet.
saying this, she casually threw a large cobblestone at la garde municipale.
#actually the last time he did this was when he was describing the streets around the convent. which was after waterloo#he loves using this device which is great for me because it actually helps!!! usually when i read written descriptions of relative#locations in space it does nothing for me. but apparently taking a bird's-eye view and tracing a giant letter over the top is#the secret sauce#the battlefield of waterloo was an A and the streets around the convent were a Y and now the streets around this barricade are an N#interesting that this time it's an N since usually in this book when he talks about the letter N he's talking about napoleon#maybe that's why he's specifically referencing his description of waterloo rather than his description of petit-picpus#les mis#lm 4.12.1#my posts#f#unfortunately while i do think i understand the location of these three streets and possibly how they relate to la rue Saint-Denis#i don't really understand where les halles are in all of this. and then he brings la rue du Cygne and la rue des Prêcheurs into it#and i'm like stop stop that's too many streets!!!#like i thought saint-denis was at the top of the N running perpendicular and les halles were doing the same thing at the bottom?#but then sometimes it sounds like les halles are on la rue saint-denis?#no wait i just reread that part and i think he's saying if you leave la rue saint-denis via la rue de la Chanvrerie eventually you will get#to les halles. so yeah they're on opposite sides of the N. still don't know what's up with la rue du cygne and la rue des prêcheurs though
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you ever go to a class and can *hear* everyone's eyes glaze over because it's so boring
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soufre-de-paris · 5 months
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migraine = time to get pissed off about thunder's atrocious footnote situation again but it's what it is, baybee!
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ludoka · 1 year
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It's 3 AM and I want to close my window... but I can't because there is a dragonfly in the mosquito net.
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How do I make him understand that the spiders on my window are friends and he shouldn't eat them?
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ynbabe · 3 days
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Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.
Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'
Charles:
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"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.
You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.
Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.
You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.
Carlos:
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"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.
Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.
"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.
You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.
He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.
Lando:
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It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.
There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.
You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.
Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.
"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.
Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.
Oscar:
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There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.
Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.
Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.
"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.
"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.
"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.
"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.
George:
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George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.
You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.
"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.
"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.
"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.
Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.
“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.
“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.
You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.
“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.
Lewis
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Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.
But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.
So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.
He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.
You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.
"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.
Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)
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"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.
“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”
You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.
“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.
You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.
“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.
“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.
That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.
PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
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Bad Luck Charm
Every race she had been to had been a shitshow. The sprint in China was no exception.
Lol I missed the quali for the sprint bc sleep and wrote this (bc the one time I don't watch lando is in first)
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Lando wanted her at every single race she could attend. Now, these were few and far between, but he was happy to pay to get her to him if he needed to.
It was rare for her to attend the Friday practice sessions. She still had work and couldn't jet off to the other side of the world at a moments notice. But still, she promised to be there for the Saturday race.
The last race she'd managed to attend was Las Vegas, so it was understandable that she was on edge. But once she had landed in China and found out that Lando was starting in pole position for the sprint race, her worries eased.
Still, there was a race to get through.
She hadn't thought of being Lando's bad luck charm before. No, not until she read something that Max Verstappen had said, something about him winning so Penelope didn't think she was bad luck.
She didn't mean to think about every race she had been to and had Lando had either missed out on a win he was so closed to or didn't finish the Grand Prix.
But that was what had happened. Every win he'd been certain to win, he'd missed out when she was there. And now he was started on pole fir the sprint, dominating in a qualifying session that she hadn't been able to watch.
She seemed to be the only person that had figured it out, though. When she arrived at the track to watch Lando in the sprint, he immediately wrapped his arms around her.
His lips found the top of her head and he couldn't keep himself from grinning at her. He was just so fucking happy to have her there.
As with every race she attended, she kissed him, waited for him to put his helmet on and kissed that also. 'For good luck,' Lando said every time. (Oh the irony).
But then the sprint began. Lando didn't make it around the first corner still in the lead. Her heart sank as she watched him drop back into seventh.
It had to be her presence. What other reason was there? For some inexplicable reason the universe wanted to punish her and it was doing it through Lando.
As soon as she could, after nineteen laps of waiting and after watching her boyfriend finish sixth, she was in his arms. Lando wasn't happy with himself, ready to beat himself up, but having her there made it just a little bit better.
For the life of him, he couldn't work out why she was apologising. "Eh?" He asked as he gently moved her away from his chest to meet her gaze. "What're you on about?"
She looked damn near ready to cry as Lando looked at her. Whoever had made his girl cry, well, they had another thing coming.
But then she sniffled and wiped at the non-existent tears beneath her eyes. "Every race weekend I've gone to has gone to shit, Lan," she mumbled. "I'm your bad luck charm and I should fly back home before I make things worse."
Lando knew he shouldn't have laughed. But he couldn't help himself. It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Baby, you can't be serious," he said. When she didn't react he pulled her in again. "You're not my bad luck charm, you numpty. Plus, if you stop coming to race weekends I'll have to take time out of my practice sessions to drag you here myself. And then, boom, my racing gets worse."
"You're an ass," she said as she buried her face in his chest. He was an ass, but she loved him.
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mistydeyes · 8 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?
(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)
thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr
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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.
pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)
warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)
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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.
As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.
"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.
"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."
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alisonwritesimagines · 8 months
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Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.
Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.
Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.
You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.
“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."
You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.
“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.
“I see.”
“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.
“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.
“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.
“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.
"Then what are you still doing here?"
"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."
"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.
Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.
"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.
"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.
"Just burned myself," you tell him.
Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.
"Thanks," you tell him.
"Of course."
"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.
"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.
"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.
"I see."
"So, dinner?"
"Why not."
Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.
"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.
"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.
"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.
"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.
You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.
"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.
"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.
"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.
-
As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.
"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.
"What?" You asked in shock.
"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.
"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.
"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.
"Yes."
Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.
-
Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.
Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.
"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.
"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.
"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."
"Her husband?"
"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.
"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"
"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."
Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.
"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.
"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.
"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.
"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.
"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."
"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.
"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.
"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.
"Not entirely."
Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.
"Shanks?" You asked in shock.
"Hi, Y/n."
-
You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.
“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.
“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.
“I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.
“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.
“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."
“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.
“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.
“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will."
"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.
"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.
"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.
“Goodbye, my love.”
You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.
“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.
“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.
“You most certainly did,” you smiled.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.
“Over here!” You called from where you were.
You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.
“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.
“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”
“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.
“I like your necklace,” you say.
“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.
“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.
“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.
“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.
At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.
Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.
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exhaslo · 8 months
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Kinktober Day 6- Miguel x Reader (Shower Sex)
        The sound of running water always made you calm. Whether it was a thunderstorm outside or just your shower, you felt at peace at the sound. It helped you relax, think and breathe after a long day of work. Today had been particularly hard on you. Everything that could have went wrong, did, and all of the customers were so rude. You had felt like crying not even half way into your shift, but you sucked it up and kept smiling.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Miguel asked as you entered your shared home. You looked up at your fiancé, tears threatening to spill, "Come here,"
        Wrapping you in his warm embrace, Miguel let you sob. You vented about your day, to which he just listened. You and Miguel had been together for over a year. You knew about his secret and his family life and he knew yours. Sometimes it was hard to spend time with Miguel since he always had to save someone; to stop someone. Miguel was worried about you drifting from him and ended up proposing to you. Of course, it was an immediate yes due to your undying love for him.
        Let's not forget the sex. Once Miguel told you about how he became Spiderman, everything made sense. His heighten abilities, his strength, his goddamn stamina. Miguel was a beast in bed. Everything you did turned the man on. Some days he fucked you go good that you could not go into work the next day. Those you had to limit him to when you had off. Miguel was not shy to let you know his needs. He also made sure that you were taken care of too. His love for you was unmatched.
"Thanks, Miggy. I'm going to shower." You whispered. Miguel stroked your eyes, wiping any remaining tears,
"De acuerdo, bebé. Me uniré a ti en un momento. (Okay, baby. I'll join you in a bit.)" He kissed the top of your head.
        You smiled as he went to order some food. You loved it when he spoke Spanish. You didn't understand it really. Miguel was teaching you. Either way, you could hear the love in his tone. Miguel knew that the shower was your calming time. He always let you take as long as you needed to relax. Always making sure that you were okay.
        Stepping into the bathroom, you turned the water on, making sure it was burning hot. Stripping your clothes you, you hopped in, enjoying the steam. The sensation of scorching hot water touching your drained skin was pleasant. Every frustrated itch in your body disappeared with the steam. Once you had your fill of heat, you brought the water down to a warmer temperature. Once you did, you heard the door open,
"Miguel?" You hummed, poking your head out of the shower. Miguel pecked your lips,
"Mind if I help you relax?" He said lowly.
        Unable to say no to him, you shyly watched as Miguel stripped. Miguel always let you enjoy your showers in peace, that and with how different your schedules were, the two of you were rarely home at the same time for a shower. This was a first. You stared at his large shadow from behind the shower curtain. Would the two of you fit in the same shower? The thought never occurred to you. Miguel was far taller than you.
"Todavía te ves tenso, ¿por qué no te ayudo? (You still look tense, why don't I help you out?)" Miguel finally stepped into the shower. His large hands rubbed your shoulder, earning a soft mewl from you, "Mi bebé no merece estar estresado. ¿Por qué no te doy una razón para quedarte en casa? Me aseguraré de que no te muevas durante la próxima semana. (My baby doesn't deserve to be stressed. Why don't I give you a reason to stay home? I'll make sure you don't move for the next week.)" He whispered in your ear.
        All you understood was his cute nickname for you and something about stress. You leaned back into his chest as he released some knots against your shoulders. This felt heavenly. Miguel's hands moved from your shoulders to around your front. A shiver ran up your spine as he teased you. His large hands proceeding to grab your breasts. You bit your lower lip, trembling against him as he massaged your boobs and pitched your nipples.
"Stressed here too?" He whispered in your ear. You leaned against him more as the water made your body slippery for him to play with,
"It has been....a rough day," You squeezed out.
        Miguel rested his head against the crook of your neck, swirling his tongue around it. You whimpered softly, your legs starting to rub against each other. He sucked against your neck, pitching your nipples a bit rougher now. There were jolts sparking all over your body, waiting for his next move. 
        Miguel paid close attention to your body language. Leaving his marks on your neck, he moved over to the other side. He felt your body arch into his as his hand trailed down to your pussy. The running water making your skin feel so smooth. Making you feel so wet for him. Poking his fingers against your delicate bud, he hummed as you arched forward instead. Making circular motions, Miguel groaned lowly as your ass pressed against his cock.
        You had the prettiest moans. All Miguel was doing was rubbing your clit and you were already crying for him. Diving deeper, Miguel slid two fingers inside your already throbbing hole. He turned your head to capture your lips in a rough kiss while pumping his fingers inside you. You body kept arching forward, moaning into his mouth. Miguel pressed you against the wall, giving you something to lean on while he played with your body.
"Tan apretado alrededor de mis dedos. Necesito relajarte. Que te jodan muy bien. (So tight around my fingers. I need to loosen you up. Fuck you really good.)"
"Yes, Miggy! I need you," You cried out.
        All you really understood was him saying something about need and really good. You figured he was asking you if you needed him to make you feel good. You whimpered as Miguel removed his fingers. You were so close. Your body was burning and in desperate need for that release. Miguel pressed you down against the shower wall, sticking your hips closer to him.
"Mierda, te ves tan bien ahora mismo. Como si todo tu cuerpo estuviera mojado por mí. Quiere que te llene con mi polla. (Shit, you look so good right now. As if your whole body is wet for me. Wants me to fill you with my dick.)"
        Your hair started to fall down your face since it was getting wet. Trying to turn your head, you cried out as Miguel started to insert himself. Your hands trying to grip onto the shower wall as you felt his thick cock stretch you out. You remembered the first time you had sex with him. Never had you felt so good. Miguel still made it feel like the first time you had sex every time. He always knew the right spots. Always overstimulated you. Always made you feel so full. 
        Miguel cussed lowly as he slid his wet hair back. His hips pressed up against yours as he felt your pussy clench against his dick. No matter how many times he entered you, you always felt so good. Relishing in the moment, Miguel moved at the sound of your begs and cries. He held your hips in place, slapping his hips against yours. The wet sounds from the water making it sound sexier and dirtier than normal. Your soaked body glistering before him like a trophy.
"Mírate aferrándote a la querida vida. ¿Mi polla se siente tan bien dentro de ti? Tu bonito y pequeño coño me está chupando por más. (Look at you holding onto dear life. My dick feel that good inside you? Your pretty little pussy just sucking me for more.)" His voice getting lower before slapping your ass.
"Ah~ Miguel~" You moaned at.
        The sounds of your moans were getting louder and sloppier as you felt your high come back. You body burning as Miguel pounded your poor cunt. His rough and deep thrusts sending you over the edge each time. Your breathing hitched as he slapped your ass again, making you cum hard. You cried softly as you squeezed him. Miguel's thrusts did not slow down, causing you to shake. You could barely hold onto the slippery shower wall. 
        You whined as Miguel pressed you against the wall, spreading you legs a bit more. He rubbed your clit, kissing the back of your neck as he brutally slapped his dick into you. You felt him fasten, knowing that he was close. Crying out a moan as he forced another orgasm out of you, you trembled as you felt him cum inside.
"I love you, baby," Miguel whispered in your ear, "Are you still stressed?" You felt him smirk.
"Mhm," You responded without a thought.
        Miguel licked his lips as he turned you around, your back against the wall now. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you once you. You moaned his name, your arms wrapped around his neck. Miguel held you up by your ass, kissing your chest as he tried to feel you deeper.
"Cum for me again, baby. Let your stress be fucked away." Miguel groaned lowly as you clenched him once more, "That's right, fuck...don't think about anything but me,"
"Migueeeeel~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.
"The shower made your body more relaxed, more loose. Such an easy fuck. Baby, you should let me fuck you in the shower everyday. Does that sound nice?" Miguel started to babble, feeling himself about to cum again.
"Y-Yes! Yes, Miguel! E-Everyday!" You cried out.
        Miguel bit your lower lip as he released another heavy load inside you. Your face was so fucked out, just the way he liked it. He loved it when you were cock drunk on him. He knew he relieved both of your stress. Resting his head against your shoulder, Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out.
"I...don't want to work tomorrow," You whined, grinding your hips against Miguel's, "Please don't stop,"
        All you wanted was Miguel to keep fucking you. His eyes sparkled as he complied to your wishes and started to pound your pussy once more. Your brain was far gone. All you felt was the shower water increase Miguel's speed. The sweat washing away from your bodies due to the water, making the sex feel far more refreshing. Miguel's wet hair sticking to his face as he begged you to cum for him. Your body arched into his, moaning your heart out as he kept bullying you.
        You were going to have to change your personal shower time to match Miguel's schedule from now on.
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inkyray · 1 month
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lazy messy high sex w virgin!reader or bestfriends w chris lol im so high rn so idk if anything im sayin makes sense lol have a gday
2.8k words
a/n: yall rlly fw the virgin bsf trope w chris huh, well you ask so i give!! here yall go enjoy, keep sending requests, do not be shyyy
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warnings/content ahead: drug use, weed, mentions of alcohol, high sex, smut, straddling so like cowgirl??, oral male!receiving, virgin!reader(again) x bsf!chris(again), wrote this in literally one sitting so beware for the possibility of it being fast-paced and a bunch of mistakes
NORMAL?
You were confusing to say the least. Everyone knew that every once and a while you liked to get high out of your fucking brain on weed and shrooms. Yet, they knew you were a virgin, which was an interesting combo.
It wasn't the vibe you gave off, in fact, it was the opposite. You were confident with a high sex appeal. People knew because you were open about it, never understanding the whole concept with feeling shameful about keeping your virginity.
That didn't mean you were completely pure, though. Although you have kept your virginity, you had still admitted to giving multiple blowjobs and handjobs, so you weren't completely inexperienced.
You were at home practically doing nothing when you got a message from your best friend, telling you to come over and bring some pre-rolled blunts. You almost jumped at the message.
Putting his ego and sex life aside, if someone were to ask you, you would call Chris a goody-goody, which would really piss him off. In your 10 years of knowing the kid, he'd refuse to do any drugs or alcohol. He was open with the fact he didn't want to consume anything that would alter his brain chemistry. You couldn't do anything but respect him, still offering him some every once and a while.
In that sense, you two were opposites. He was always banging some new girl while you were doing pot with the rappers of LA. But in every other aspect, you two were identical. People, even his triplet brothers, would point out how you were like a female version of him, and how it made sense that you two were so close.
You were practically thrilled Chris had requested such a thing, your mind racing at all the possibilities as to why he'd ask you to bring your stash.
Standing in front of his house, you search for your gifted spare key, opening the place up and announcing that you were here. You had to keep yourself from skipping through his house in pure utter excitement.
You freeze at the sight of Chris in his kitchen, fully expecting him to be in his room. Quickly, you throw him the plastic bag of pre-rolled blunts and joints. The same second Chris registered you here was the same second he caught the plastic bag of weed, catching it with one arm.
"Drive safely here?" He questions, opening the plastic bag. You grin, imagining how high Chris could get, how'd he be. "I didn't drive high, don't worry. I was waiting until I got here." You seat yourself on the kitchen island's stool, leaning yourself against the table as you watch him sniff the bag.
"Mm. Good." He hummed, his face expressionless. You immediately furrowed your eyebrows. "What's wrong?" You ask the moment you felt his vibe was off. He looked up at you, he was great at expressing his positive emotions, his negative ones? Not so much.
"A bunch of bullshit on the internet. People love to wake up and act all fucking dumb." He mutters, throwing the bag against the table, sliding it toward you. "Chris, how many time do I need to fucking tell you." You sigh, taking out a roll and your lighter.
"'Don't take that shit seriously.' Yeah, I fucking know. It's just hard when it's constantly in your face." His tone is aggressive and louder. You take a moment before asking, "Is that why you told me to bring these?" You gesture to the weed.
Chris nods, "Yeah. Before I fucking punch someone." He goes on to tell you about how Nick and Matt left to go do some influencer shit you didn't understand, seeing how the internet had gotten him so hostile, insisting it'd be good if they left him alone for a few hours. "They shouldn't be back until a long fucking while."
You smile, "Should be enough time for us to get high and out of this fucking world, am I right?" You hold up a fist for him to bump. He just stares at it. "Just light the fucking blunt." He groans. You grumble, "Come on Chris, seriously? You gonna leave me hanging?"
He sighs, fist bumping you. You then fist bump the air in victory, quickly going to light the blunts. You bring your roll immediately to your lips, watching Chris as you hesitantly hold his up. You huff the smoke out of your nose. "Are you sure, Chris?"
"I'm sure." He blows in, you watch as the paper burns as air gets sucked out of it. His puffing interrupted by a cough, smoke forcefully leaving his mouth as he coughs it all up. "Don't worry," you say "this is normal for your first time, try holding it in?" You suggest.
He glares at you. "What? I'm not the one who made you cough, tough guy." You shrug.
He holds it back up to his lips, looking at you the entire time as he sucks in softer this time. He manages to hold the smoke in and blow it back out, leaving both his nose and mouth. "Mmm." You buzzed, smoking from your roll. "Good boy." You sang as he blew some of the smoke at your face. You scrunched up your nose, laughing.
"I also brought my bong, by the way."
-
Your back was slumped flatly against his kitchen table, you hadn't bothered to leave his kitchen since you stepped in there.
You watched as smoke painted abstract lines across his ceiling, the light so bright it had your blinking hurt. Chris felt his mind pooling out of his ears as he sat on his couch in the living room, holding onto your bong.
"Should've brought the shrooms." He utters, finishing his blunt. Chris lost count of which one this was. You laughed slowly, "Slow down, druggie."
He turned his head, examining you laying on his kitchen table, "Hm, you comfortable?" You shake your head. "Not at all."
"Then come sit next to me, dumbass." He huffed, you slouched yourself off his kitchen table, feeling the cramp on your back beginning to form. You stretched quickly before plopping yourself beside him.
"You fuck with it?" You ask him, he turns to look at you, glassy blue eyes rimmed with red. It only makes you wonder what you look like. Your brain feels hot, and you direct it to his lips. You watch as he's about to puff some fog out, but quickly sucks it back in mouth and blows it out of his nose. "Heavy." He answers you, his voice a tone louder than a whisper.
He manspreads through his baggy black sweatpants as you sigh. "If I could go back in time to when I first got high like this, I would."
Chris nods slowly. "Like, try something new?" He questions, his voice more hoarse than when you got here.
"Yeah. New and addictive, as fucked up as it sounds. I don't want to regret it. Sort of like the same thing you're doing right now." You pat down the surface of your blunt on an ashtray, getting rid of accumulated ash.
It's a comfortable silence for a moment. There's not really much to say when you could barely feel your mind in your head.
"I have an idea in mind, but you're not gonna like it."
You're immediately intrigued, turning to look at him, raising a weak eyebrow. "Let's be honest, I'll probably fucking like it."
He hums, his voice purring in some sort of acknowledgement. "Let me fuck you?" He gets straight to the point, and you can't even say you're surprised. You back yourself away from him for a moment, taking him all in. You'd be the earth's biggest liar if you said you wouldn't take him right then and there.
"You'd be comfortable with that?" You draw out, watching his pink lips begin to form a response. "You're the virgin here, I should be the one asking you that."
He's right. You raise your gaze back to him. He blinks slowly at you, hair falling perfectly on his forehead as pieces continue to messily look longer than the others. His necklace glimmering lightly under the dimly lit living room as he looks at you lazily through his eyelashes. "I don't think there's any other time I'd like to lose my virginity than right now." You admit.
His smirk grows as he pats his lap. "Come here." You looked at him as you crawled onto his lap, straddling him as he put his blunt out. Sitting on him, his gaze darted everywhere on you, following from your eyes to the slope of your neck, melting to your chest.
"Don't be awkward." He ordered, grabbing the side of your face as he kissed your soft mouth. You kissed him back, your mind immediately going blank as he pulled away. "Already?" You whined before shutting up immediately. He kisses the curve of your jaw, trailing down your neck, giving you sloppy wet neck kisses, leaving your skin glistening with a layer of his spit, unknowingly grinding into his growing erection.
Without a question, he lifts your shirt off of you, you place it off to the side as he looks up at your red eyes. Tugging out your bra, he asks "Can I take this off you?"
You slip your hand into his pants, snapping at the elastic of his boxers. "Only if I take this off you." He grins, "We're getting there, baby." His voice low and jagged from everything he's been smoking, you feel yourself getting wetter, deciding to be the one who dives in for this kiss.
Without really meaning to, you give him an open-mouthed kiss, your lips immediately wrapping around his bottom ones and sucking gently on it, feeling him unclasp your bra as he sticks his tongue inside of you, slipping it off.
His fingers run themselves through your hair before transitioning to your bare skin, his palms sliding down the hill of your boob and grazing the dip of your waist before holding tightly onto your hips, holding you down as he pushes you back and forth onto his crotch.
You rhythmically grind yourself into him as he guides you, your kissing becoming less in order and more messy, more wetter. You both taste like weed, the smell fogging up the place around you and even your minds, every moment more intense and harsher, out of order yet perfect.
With a hand holding your hips hard enough to leave marks in the morning, his other hand uses two delicate fingers to brush down your spine, the tingling sensation sends a small shiver down your spine, arching your back to the touch. That same hand moving to the opposite side of your hips, caving into your leg and groping your thigh as he bites your lip when you went to take a break for a breath of air.
He whimpers your name, clearly more into this than you thought. You scatter off of him and he watches you confused, pressing down to his crotch. You shove his hands away, sitting  on your knees and you lean toward him. "You're so beautiful." He looks down at you as you take his sweatpants off, instinctively folding it and putting off to the side. That's how you knew you were high. "Let me suck your dick." You say in response to his compliment.
He plays with your hair, grabbing small strands and following it until he reaches the edge and they fall out of his grasp, repeating the action. "Thoughtful girl, hm." Chris mutters, he moans when you shove his boxers off and without warning, wrapping your lips around him.
Your tongue swirls around his tip before collecting all the leaking pre-cum from his hole, pressing your tongue in it which makes his hips buckle up. Your boobs graze softly against his legs as you let go for a moment, saliva drooping down his length as you spit at your palm, looking up at him as you begin to stroke him. He throws his head back, loud whimpers of your name slipping from his mouth. You continue your stroking as you bring the tip of him to your mouth once again, bopping your head up and down, matching the speed of you stroking as he grips the top of your head, pulling on your hair. "Fuck– I'm gonna– fuck!" He cums in your mouth and you pull away, strings of liquid managing to connect from him to your mouth as you swallow him down. 
"More?" You question once he's caught his breath, he looks down at you. "It felt like my virginity just got taken away from me." You laugh at his comment, grabbing a joint and quickly lighting it up for a quick puff. His eyes were still bloodshot, but you held the smoke in before you got closer to him, he opened his mouth, his eyes on yours as you blew the smoke straight into it. He sucked in the fog and released it through his nose.
You sat back on him, the only thing keeping your bare skin from touching was the pants you still haven't taken off yet. You brought the joint back to his mouth and he happily took a long drag. "Still a virgin, by the way." You remind him, licking your thumb and index finger, stinging the half-smoked joint light gone. "Right. Here for business aren't we?" He blows the smoke from his mouth, pointing it to his right so it wouldn't hit your face. "Damn straight." You nod.
"Nice tits, by the way."
"Chris just fuck me."
Your pants were off in seconds and you found yourself hovering right over him, hesitant to just fully take him.
"We don't have to." He trails, holding onto your waist, sure you were both high to the point of seeing stars, but he was still considerate. "I want to." You muttered, holding onto his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your walls immediately clenched around him and it was almost painful, slowly but surely Chris helped you raise yourself as you raised his hips with you, your moans muffled out of your hearing capacity, hyper focused on his noises and the idea of fully thrusting with him.
"Want me to go slow?" He groans, slowly pushing himself farther into you once he is out. "Just do it how you normally would." You drop your head to his shoulder, facing his neck as his thrust become more common, his speed going faster. Your nails clawed at his other shoulder as you kept everything in you not to bite onto him for closure. You would lift yourself up as he pushed himself inside you once you drop yourself back down, following his pace that would only just quicken.
Maybe it was the weed, but you could've sworn you had a warm tear make its way down your cheek, it was painful, but pleasurable, his size definitely not what you were expecting for your first time. You placed damp kisses along his neck and collarbone, feeling your stomach clench harshly. "Chris–"
"I know, baby. I know. Me too." He moans, barely able to utter a few words. You quickly push you off of him, both on que as you cum everywhere. You're thankful he did, not really sure what you would do if you got pregnant from your first time.
You lay on the gray couch completely naked, trying to get your breath in order. Chris does the same, turning to look at you to do so. His eyebrows furrow, "Did I hurt you?" He wipes away your tear with his thumb. "A little." You admit, "but I think it's normal. Right?" You question. "As long as it's not anything you didn't want, it should be normal." He nods, running his hands softly over your cum-covered stomach.
"How are we going to clean the couch from this?" You question, he looks up from you. "We better get to fucking work."
You stand up, your legs shaking as you attempt to put your underwear back on. Chris clicks his tongue. "Sit back down, I'll do it." He stands up, shoving himself back into his boxers, unfolding his sweatpants and putting them on.
You sigh, thinking about a shower and how good Chris felt against you. He manages to come back from around the corner with a towel. You attempt to help him clean. "We're so fucked." You mumbled.
He looks back at you and realizes just how high you two are. This event will definitely give you something to talk about later on, but for now Chris steals one more kiss from you, long and passionate. A different kind of euphoria for two idiots high out of their minds.
"I think you might be the bestest friend I've ever had." He says.
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