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#we're past the point of conversation
callofdooty69 · 3 months
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cw: talk of alcohol, talk of vomit/throwing up, profanity, fem!reader
helping a drunk can get you dates
simon never got involved with women, mostly because he didn’t have time. every woman he tried dating wasn’t happy with the idea of him never seeing them because of deployment and needing to be on base most days. he was never in a relationship for more than a month.
that was, until he met you.
on a cold thursday night, him and the lads had just gotten done with their two-month-long deployment and went out to celebrate. they went to a local pub and soap ordered beers for everyone. simon wasn’t a huge drinker, afraid of the idea of becoming an alcoholic. but, mostly when he went out to celebrate, he had a few drinks. he could handle his alcohol well and wasn’t a light weight. his comrades on the other hand, were a totally different story, with the exception of price.
soap and gaz were fully wasted and could barely walk straight, making shitty jokes and laughing at each other when they fell. they decided to call it a night after soap nearly got a himself killed from bumping into a waiter and spilling drinks all over himself.
simon and price held up the other two drunks while trying to get back to base, struggling because they were barely lifting their feet off the ground. they definitely had a few too many drinks and price barely dodged gaz puking all over him.
as they stumbled along the concrete, ghost internally regretting parking so far from the bar, he saw you and your friends walking towards him. you were laughing, the only clearly sober one trying to guide your drunk friends and making sure they didn’t bump into anyone. your smile looked contagious, practically lighting up the snowy and foggy street.
you were inching towards them, trying to get your friends out of their way. you looked at him, showing a small smile as you passed. unfortunately, with the unlucky curse you both seem to carry around, soap vomited all over you before you got the chance to walk by. you tried your best not to show it, but you were freaking out a bit when you saw the puke all over your dress and heels.
“johnny?! the fucks a matter with you, mate?!” price shouted, scolding him. “holy shiiiiitttt,” gaz slurred, “why’d you do that man? you totally just ruined her niiighttt.”
“oh, don’t worry. it’s really not a big deal, this shit happens,” you smiled, trying to reassure them that you were okay, just a bit grossed out. soap let out a burp, “oh sorry lass, didaen’t mean ta!” he groaned.
“it’s really okay, i promise. just try not to puke all over anyone else tonight, yeah?” you smiled. “yes ma’am!” gaz and soap spoke at the same time, laughing their asses off and saying “jinx” and elbowing each other.
“okay, okay that’s enough. god, your gonna have a horrible hangover tomorrow,” price said, warning them. “sorry miss, i’ll see to it that ya’ get a new dress.”
“oh it’s okay! no need to,” you responded. you were desperately hoping it would wash out, you spent four paychecks on it. “have a good night, guys. get home safe!”
simon was surprised. despite the fact that some random scottish drunk just puked all over you, you didn’t even break your smile. he wouldn’t have had that self control, probably would have ended up socking him in the face if he was in your position. it was admirable, definitely something he would remember in the morning, if soap and gaz didn’t.
****
the next week went by in a blur. everyone was cleared off duty for a while, around three months, given the harsh conditions they faced during deployment and the numerous injuries that followed. price deemed that gaz and soap were strictly prohibited from alcohol consumption for the next three weeks, which the lads understood. other than occasional errands, nothing important went on, everyone mostly slept and hung out, trying to relax.
it was simon’s turn to go for the grocery run, seeing as having twenty or more soldiers on the same base would mean food went by quickly. as he stopped on the road and waited for cars to pass by, he flicked the remainder of his cigarette out the window and onto the street. looking out, he saw the walkway where the event from the previous week occurred. the memory flashed through his eyes and looked into the building that you and your friends came out of. he stared intently as he waited for the light to turn green, watching to see if anything interesting was happening inside.
and suddenly, as if you teleported out of nowhere, he saw you scribbling down an order on a notepad, an apron around your waist and that same bright smile on his face in a busy italian restaurant. it wasn’t until the loud noises of cars honking behind him that he put his attention back on the road, shaking his head and wondering what the hell was going on with him.
he used his knowledge to his advantage. he volunteered to go on the grocery runs for the following two weeks. he felt like a coward for not talking to you, and it had never been this difficult for him to talk to women. with his dumb luck, the lads caught on and made fun of him for it for weeks on end. it got on his nerves so much to the point where he just had to put an end to it.
he didn’t know how to, though. he remembered price talking to you about getting a new dress to replace the one soap idiotically puked on. simon figured he might as well get you new heels too, visualizing which ones they were and what to actually get.
money wasn’t the issue, his salary was pretty decent seeing as he was a lieutenant. the problem was being in a store that was filled with items that he didn’t know. it’s as if each piece of clothing and accessory was new to him, despite buying many of those gifts before for others. he hated how confused he was, why was he even doing this anyway? he could have just left and grabbed groceries like he was meant to. but it’s like he was tied to a rope that he couldn’t cut.
he finally found the dress and heels he was looking for after spending thirty minutes walking in circles. he purchased the items, requesting a bag and a note that read ‘sorry ‘bout the dress you had, hope this one can replace it.’ with that, he left and drove back to the restaurant where he saw you.
he stood outside the door, hesitating to enter. he might as well get it over with now, he wasn’t going to bring a dress and heels back to base knowing everyone would poke fun at him for it. he pulled the door open, hearing the faint jingle of bells as he let it close. he looked around, he had to admit the place was nice, surprisingly busy for it being only noon.
walking to the front counter, waiting for someone to come out front. he heard your voice in the back, telling him it would be just a minute until you could seat him. when you came out your eyes lit up, seeming to remember simon from the previous weeks.
“oh, hey! you were the man from a few weeks ago right? how are you?”
simon’s words were caught in his throat. he mumbled a small ‘good’ and handed you the bag of items. “is this for someone in the back? if you just gimme a name i can give it to them!” your smile widened, showing a glimpse of your seemingly perfect teeth.
“no, actually. s’ for you, a replacement of the dress ‘nd heels my drunk lad threw up all over. sorry if it’s not the right ones, tried my best to remember.”
your eyes went wide, smile slowly falling. he was worried he said something wrong, messed up what he got. but your smile quickly went back even wider than before. “are you serious?” he nodded in response. “you really didn’t have to, i told you guys it was okay!”
“no, it was his fault. if it makes ya’ feel any better, the lad was suspended from drinkin’ for three weeks.” your bubbly laugh returned, the corners of your eyes crinkling. “are you sure? this must’ve been expensive, it’s really no big deal-”
“i insist.”
“really? thank you!” you ran around the corner, standing on your tippy toes to hug the taller man in front of you. “you have no idea how much i appreciate this, unfortunately the puke didn’t wash out.” you rubbed the back of your neck, only then realizing how close the two of you were. you both apologized at the same time, laughing at the responses. a blush slowly crept up on your face, and simon was internally praying that you couldn’t see how red his was.
“well, i should probably get back to work, thank you again, this made my shitty week so much better.” you chuckled. simon knew he might not have the guts to talk to you again or see you, and unfortunately his mouth moved faster than his brain.
“wait,” he said as you turned around to smile at him. “are you free on friday? maybe we could grab a bite to eat. i’ll make sure no one pukes on ya’ again.” he laughed.
you were definitely not expecting the tall and hot military man you only had two encounters with ask you something like that. “yes” you said.
he wrote down his name and number and slid it across the counter to you, “great, then it’s a date.”
and with that, simon walked out the door and you went to grab the drinks you meant to bring out five minutes ago.
the both of you were smiling the rest of the day.
****
let me know if you guys want a part 2, and per usual, leave requests in the comments or anons if you’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
- 𝓀.𝒿
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lazylittledragon · 1 year
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y'know i'm sick of trying to be polite and civil to people who won't give me the basic respect i deserve as a human being so let it be known that i hope all terfs die in horrible painful accidents as soon as possible
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mskatesharma · 2 years
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Will there ever be a day when I wake up not annoyed at the lack of exploration of Kate Sharma, her background, her grief and her trauma? UNLIKELY.
I’m sorry but, we don’t even know the names of her parents? Kate *literally* says the words “my mother has a name”, and then, they just never tell us what it was. We don’t even know her father’s name beyond Mr Sharma; the father she shares with Edwina and whose marriage to Mary caused a massive scandal. We don’t know how he died (which Simone has said multiple times massively affected Kate to the point that Kate doesn’t want to open up herself or her heart to anyone new), or how her mother died. Does she know why she finds storms unsettling? And those things are just the bare minimum, because I should not still have questions about these things after the season depicting ‘her’ romance with Anthony.
And if you really want to get into it, it would have been nice to know what Kate’s relationships with her father, and with Mary were like before her father died, and then immediately after, for actual proper context. We got that with Anthony, and it would have been really fucking helpful to know these things in relation to Kate. Because did Kate always feel like she owed something to Mary and that feeling was amplified after the death of her father, or was it something that only developed afterwards? The same applies to Kate and Edwina’s relationship. Did she always feel like an outsider in her family, or did that only happen after her father died? As I’ve said before, the scene between Kate and Mary in episode 8 falls flat, and it’s because we don’t have enough background, context or information about exactly what Kate had to go through to ensure her family’s survival after Mr Sharma’s death.
I have so many questions about Kate that I reasonably shouldn’t after the season that was supposed to focus on her character, and I hate it, because we all know that we won’t be getting any of these things in season three. It’s beyond shitty, and I’m fucking tired.
And this isn’t even getting into the disparity in development of the white male lead vs the WOC lead, and how yet again, the WOC’s development and background is so obviously secondary to that of a white man’s. (Like if Kate’s name is actually Kathani, then Anthony should not have been the first person to say it. And also, if the Sharmas being Indian is incidental and not meant to be othering, why did Kate feel the need to anglicise her name in the first place? Because if anything, that’s literally othering her because she felt she had to change or hide part of her identity to fit in, and I thought the whole point was that the Sharmas didn’t need to do that. I’m gonna stop talking about the name before I can’t stop because I have THOUGHTS.)
Anyway, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the diversity on this show is fake as fuck.
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spohkh · 3 months
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learning how to confront awkward/uncomfortable situations and have a productive conversation about it is the single most valuable skill ive developed as an adult, especially now that more and more i need to advocate for myself wrt protecting my health
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adelaidedrubman · 2 years
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im considering...... finally trying to...... god help me.......... make a proper writing outline for wildfire.
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whoarethegirls · 1 month
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more importantly you guys are jokes for letting collide with the sky die like that. to BLACK PARADE???
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notthestarwar · 9 months
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I'm absolutely gonna be late now lol cause I wrote all that (and spent a long time just sitting there thinking about it (whoops)) before doing any of the stuff I need to do before I go get tortured for an hour (completely mundane prescheduled appointment with someone)
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
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For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
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Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
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eggmeralda · 1 year
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I hate uni so much atm
#i spoke to more people in first year during lockdown more than i do now#bc the way they've done the course is so we have the last few months with no other assignments so we can focus on our dissertations#which is good i guess? but also i now never get to see anyone on my course#my course didn't even have any gigs this year bc ''they wanted to focus more on the production side'' except they didn't even do that#they just got rid of the performance side??#and rehearsals were usually where I'd get to talk to people. and then the assessed gig I'd get to see everyone bc they'd all be there#but this year they're just not doing it#so i only ever see the people I'm in bands with already (but like once a week)#and the people i live with. and i barely get to see them either#one's the year below me so i don't see her often and also she works a lot. yet she's probably the one i talk to most#another one idk where he is all the time he's always out somewhere. but at least i get to talk to him sometimes#and the other guy who was like my best friend last year i never get to talk to anymore bc he's still incapable of being apart from his gf#so i only ever get to talk to him on his own on the way home from rehearsals bc at least we're in a band together. but that's once a week#last year if i wanted to tell him something i could just go in the kitchen and just open cupboards and stuff and he'd hear#and come out his room and we'd have a full conversation#or bc he had to walk past my room on the way to the toilet he'd always come in and we'd talk for so long#but now he just lives with his girlfriend with the door shut and idek#also I've mentioned it countless times that i don't get to see him anymore and he seems to feel the same way? and says he wants to stay#friends and hang out more but i think in his head that means with his girlfriend also there#bc i guess he can't picture a situation without her being there like he's literally just an extension of her at this point#i feel like i don't even know him anymore and yeah#if we weren't living together i literally wouldn't care like. there's people i was really close with last year but don't see as much now#but it's fine bc i guess the reason is bc we're both busy or there just aren't moments when we'd see each other regularly#so i can accept that#but when the person lives in the room directly next to mine it's so much worse bc like#i could talk to him but i know i can't bc i don't wanna waste his time or keep him from being with his girlfriend#idek#anyway 3rd year is the worst year by far. 1st year was A Lot it was unhinged it was a fever dream but I have some nice memories?#2nd year was amazing i have so many good memories. 3rd year has like one good memory. anyway I'm reaching tag limit so#ramble
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theostrophywife · 3 months
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snow on the beach.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
request: can you write some cuddles with theo? maybe he’s comforting reader, or maybe reader is comforting him, but this boy need some love pretty please.
song inspiration: snow on the beach by taylor swift.
author's note: as soon as i saw the gif by the lovely @dramaticals, i knew that i had to write a piece with it as the cover. get in, babes. we're simping for theodore nott.
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The snow fell softly over Hogwarts, covering the castle with ice and frost. From the beach, Theo watched as the flurries glittered against stone and spire and frowned as the cold seeped into his bones. Underneath him, the Black Lake was frozen solid yet crystal clear. It might’ve been unwise to venture out so far from the shore, but Theo welcomed the clarity of the cold. 
The cigarette cradled between his slender fingers provided some much needed warmth, the nicotine filling his lungs and dulling his senses as he released a cloud of smoke into the air. Spread-eagled on the ice, Theo sprawled out like a snow angel, blinking away the snowflakes as it gathered on his lashes. 
Beyond the treeline, Theo glimpsed his friends chasing each other on their brooms. A loud cackle echoed from the Forbidden Forest as Mattheo hurled a snowball at Draco. Enzo and Regulus cursed as they narrowly dodged the attack, racing away from Mattheo as he laughed maniacally, clearly relishing his reign of terror. On any other day, he would’ve been flying right along his mates, but today was different. 
The boys could sense it as well. All morning, Theo had been distant and distracted. He barely participated in the conversations happening around him during lunch. When he turned down Mattheo’s invitation to play quidditch in the snow, his mates took the hint that Theo really just wanted to be alone.
So here he was, smoking in the freezing cold and hoping that the frigid air would provide a moment of reprieve from the complicated thoughts and emotions swirling within him. For his efforts, Theo was rewarded with a sore arse and a growing migraine pulsing behind his eyes. In other words, he was truly shit out of luck.
There was no escaping today. 
A soft shuffling beckoned his attention, but it wasn’t necessary for Theo to turn around to know who the steps belonged to. He could identify his best friend by sound alone. You always walked with purpose. Judging by the decisive click of your boots against the ice, Theo could tell that you were on a mission. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as you came into view, your cheeks and nose flushed from the cold. 
With a hand on your hip, you cocked your head at Theo and posed a question in your usual no-nonsense tone. “Would you like some company or would you prefer to brood alone?” 
Theo looked up from his cigarette, biting back a smile. You were always straight to the point. Never one to mince words. Theo liked that about you. 
“I don’t mind the company if it’s you, principessa.” 
A soft smile graced his face as you transformed your robe into a blanket, laying it on the ice and beckoning him to move. Theo happily obliged and attempted not to chuckle as you fussed over him, clearly biting back on lecturing him on the dangers of catching hypothermia in this weather. You placed your bag underneath his head before laying beside him in the cocoon of fabric. 
Without a word, you tapped your shoulder. His heart warmed at the familiar gesture as he leaned against you. A sigh of satisfaction slipped past his lips as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and easing all the tension from his body. 
“What are you doing out here?” Theo asked as you toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You hate the cold.” 
“I do, but I don’t hate you.” 
Theo nuzzled against your neck, humming softly as the warmth of your skin soothed his senses. “I missed you at breakfast. Thought you were sleeping in, so I didn’t bother to wake you up.” His mouth quirked in amusement. “We both know what happens when your sleep is interrupted.”
“I’m not that bad,” you said sheepishly. 
“The last time I tried to wake you up before noon on a weekend, you threw a slipper at my head.” 
“I thought you were an intruder.” 
“Mhm,” Theo murmured against your shoulder. “That explains why you yelled, ‘Leave me alone, Theodore!’ after physically assaulting me.” 
By the way you shifted beside him, Theo knew you were rolling your eyes fondly. “For your information, I woke up bright and early this morning to head to Hogsmeade.” 
“Has hell frozen over?” Theo asked dramatically, furrowing his brows as he looked up at you. “The Y/N I know wouldn’t be caught dead in all this snow. Especially not without stealing at least three of my hoodies before stepping foot out of the castle.” 
You chuckled, brushing a strand of wavy hair away from his eyes. “Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not completely helpless without you. I bundled up and braved the snow to pick up a package from the post.” 
“I wish you would’ve told me, dolcezza. I would’ve gone to the village with you.” 
“That’s sweet of you, Teddy. But it was a quick trip and I managed fine on my own.”
Theo grumbled with displeasure, but rested his head on your shoulder once more. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, just soaking up each other’s company. You were clearly aware that something was on his mind, but you didn’t push. You knew that Theo would talk if and when he was ready. It was one of the many things he appreciated about you. Whenever you were together, there was never any need to fill the silence. Even without words, you could read him like a book. 
After a while, Theo put out his cigarette and turned over to face you. You smiled as he scooted closer and breathed in your strawberry shampoo. He brushed the snowflakes off of your cheek, but more fell to take their place. 
“How did you know I’d be out here?” 
“For reasons I will never understand, you love the cold. You said it helps you think clearly,” you replied, tracing the moles and freckles that littered his skin like constellations. “I figured you had a lot on your mind. I imagine the anniversary is a rough day for you.” 
Theo blinked in surprise. Though you told each other nearly everything, Theo had never disclosed the anniversary of his mother’s death. He rarely spoke about her to anyone. Even after ten years, the loss still made his heart feel hollow. 
“You know what today is?” He asked in a small, quiet voice. 
You nodded in confirmation. “Your nonna mentioned it in her last letter. I know you usually like to be alone to remember her, but I wanted to at least check up on you.” 
There was an ache in his chest as he met your concerned gaze. You placed your hand above his heart and rubbed over the spot like you knew how heavy of a load it was to carry. Theo’s fingers gently closed around yours. 
“I’m glad you did.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly. “All these years? I would’ve liked to be there for you.” 
There was a hint of pain in the edges of your voice as though robbing you of the ability to comfort him physically hurt. Knowing you, it probably did. You cared so deeply and loved so fully. It was just the type of person that you were. It was what drew him to you in the first place. 
“I didn’t think I could,” he admitted truthfully. “After my mum died, my father never spoke about her again. He just acted like the day of her death never happened. For him, it was just another normal day and not the day that I lost half of myself. My father said it was weak to show emotion, so I never did. I had no choice but to be strong, so I am.” 
Theo closed his eyes and attempted to tamper down his emotions. When he opened them again, he was met with your heartbroken expression. A pang of guilt struck his heart like an arrow. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you. Seeing you in pain was worse than enduring the Cruciatus curse and Merlin knew he had plenty of experience in that regard. Thanks to his cruel, ruthless father. Theo started to apologize, but startled when you cradled his face in your hands, your gaze full of bravery and determination. 
“Emotions don’t make you weak, Teddy. You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to grieve and rage and cry. You don’t have to be so strong all the time.” 
The words struck him to his very core. It had never occurred to him to let his armor fall. He wasn't aware that was even an option. All his life, Theo thought that repressing every ounce of emotion was the only way to cope with his mother’s death. He wasn’t granted permission to speak of her, much less grieve over her. Self-preservation had been drilled into him even before he was sorted into Slytherin. It was how he survived.
“I don’t?” He asked in a broken whisper. 
“No, you don’t.” You replied, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m here for you and I won’t judge you for being vulnerable.” 
Theo swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to weigh you down with my burdens.” 
“You won’t,” you promised. “Whatever heaviness you’re carrying, I’ll carry it with you. You never have to do anything alone, Teddy.” 
The ice in his chest cracked and the armor he so carefully crafted around his heart splintered off into a million tiny pieces. It should’ve terrified him, but instead, all Theo felt was relief. You were giving him a safe space to feel. A luxury that had been ripped away from him the day his mother died. 
“I miss her so much.” 
With those five words, Theo felt the dam break. Years and years of sadness and anger and grief washed over him like a tidal wave, flooding his heart with the intensity of it all. The rush of the current would have wiped him out entirely if it hadn’t been for your arms wrapping around him, holding him to the present like an anchor. Theo clung onto you for dear life and sobbed. 
He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He cried until the front of your sweater was soaked with his tears. He cried until his throat was raw from screaming. He cried until his eyes were bloodshot and red and as heavy as lead. Through it all, you hugged him tightly, holding him against you firmly as you rubbed his back and whispered soothing words in his ear. 
“It’s okay, Teddy. Let it out. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Theo gripped the back of your sweater, bunching up the fabric between his fingers as he unleashed ten years worth of grief out into the open. You didn’t balk at any of it. The two of you had weathered the good, the bad, and the ugly together and none of it had scared you off. Theo believed you when you said that you weren’t going anywhere. To you, it was a sacred promise. One that you had kept faithfully since the day you met him. 
“I’m here for you,” you declared in reassurance, rocking him back and forth. “I always will be.” 
He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like you. During times like these, Theo was convinced that you were his guardian angel. A gift from above to offset all the shit and misery that life brought. It was cathartic to cry in the arms of the girl he loved because he knew that you would hold him as he fell apart and put him back together in a way that only you could. 
After what seemed like ages, Theo finally looked up. With a sniffle, he watched with an awestruck expression as you wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed his forehead. 
“I got something for you,” you whispered softly. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but I think it might help. It’s a way to commemorate the loss of your mother, but to also honor the happy memories that live on in your heart.” 
You fished around in your bag and pulled out a small paper lantern. As you held it in your hands, it glowed as though enchanted. 
“Back home, we light these lanterns and release them to honor the loved ones we’ve lost. I asked my mum to mail me one and it just arrived in the post this morning. Special delivery.” 
Just when Theo thought he was all out of tears, a fresh wave crashed over him. He was the reason why you’d trudged out in the snow and frost so early in the morning. To pick up the most thoughtful gift that anyone has ever given him. Theo couldn’t help but bawl. 
Your eyes widened. “Oh no. I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to do it if you want to. I can send it back—“
Theo shook his head. “No, no, no. It’s perfect. It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you. For writing to my crazy old nonna and letting me get snot all over your favorite sweater and turning a shit day less shitty. Thank you so much, Y/N.” 
You smiled, brushing his waves back. “You don’t have to thank me, Theo. I’d do anything for you. That’s what you do for the people you love.” 
His breath caught in his throat. Theo looked up at you with hopeful eyes. “You love me?” 
“With every fiber of my being.” 
Before he knew it, Theo was crying again, but this time it was happy tears. He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands just like you always did to him, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was so soft and so gentle, like he was afraid that you might disappear. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he declared with certainty. Theo loved you like the moon loved the sun. He loved you like the shadows loved the stars. You were the light that he’s been waiting for in the darkness. “I think my mum would’ve loved you too.” 
You smiled, intertwining your fingers together and kissing his knuckles. “I wish I had the chance to meet her.” 
“You still can,” Theo said with a smile. “Will you show me how to light the lantern, cara mia?” 
After you showed him how to enchant the lantern, Theo was able to light it by himself. The lantern glowed in his hands as he looked over at you. “What’s next?” 
“Usually, we say a few words to honor the dead. It can be as short or as long as you’d like.” Theo swallowed thickly. He seemed to be grappling with his thoughts, searching for the right words. You grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed. “There’s no right or wrong way to do it. As long as it comes from the heart. Don’t be scared, Teddy. I’m right here.” 
Theo nodded, smiling softly as he squeezed back. He composed himself for a moment and stared at the lantern. 
“Ciao, mamma. It’s Teddy. Today was really hard. It’s been ten years since I lost you, but I still feel you everywhere. I miss you a lot. I’m sorry that I never talk about you. Even now, it still hurts. But I’m learning that sometimes you just have to let yourself feel the pain. That it’s okay to let other people in and let them carry the burden with you. I’m lucky, mamma. I have nonna and my cousins and my mates. I have Y/N. She takes care of me. She always asks me about my day. She remembers every little thing I tell her, like the fact that I hate crusts on my sandwiches and pineapple on pizza.” 
You chuckled as his nose scrunched up in disgust. The sincerity of it all made your heart feel like it was overflowing with love for this beautiful boy. “She’s always bossing me around and fussing over me, but I secretly love that she cares so much. She’s got such a big heart, mamma. I’m lucky to even occupy a small portion of it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got Y/N to watch over me. I love you and I miss you. I promise I’ll talk about you more. Ci vediamo, mamma.” 
Your eyes welled with tears as Theo released the lantern. He turned to you, wiping a tear away. “Hey, none of that,” he teased. “I’ve cried enough for the both of us tonight, love.” 
“I’m sorry. That was just so beautiful. I’m so proud of you, Teddy. I know it wasn’t easy, but you were so brave.” 
He leaned down to kiss your temple. “Couldn’t have done it without you, cara mia.” 
Theo laced his fingers through yours and tugged lightly. “Now come on, dolcezza. Let’s get inside where it’s warm. I know you’re dying to lecture me about being out in the cold for this long.” 
You chuckled, not even the least bit surprised at how well Theo knew you. 
Later that night, after the two of you dried off, changed into pajamas, and snuggled underneath your warm blankets, you listened as Theo told stories of his mum. You laughed when he recounted the time his mum hexed Lucius for stealing her shampoo in third year. You cried when he recalled the way she’d always let him curl up in her bed after a nightmare, singing him to sleep and soothing her Teddy. 
In one night, the memories that he kept locked away in his heart for ten years came spilling out of Theo. You soaked up every detail like a sponge, hanging onto his every word. The sun was rising by the time he exhausted himself, but he felt so much lighter than he ever had. With your arms wrapped tightly around him, Theo knew that he was loved beyond measure. He could feel the affection and devotion radiating between you, like an invisible string that tied the two of you together.
As you spooned him, Theo grinned and kissed your fingertips. “Thank you for letting me talk about my mum. I’ve never told anyone any of that before.” 
“What makes me so special?” 
Theo turned over and smiled. “You make me feel safe,” he whispered in the darkness. You teared up at his words, knowing how hard it was for Theo to let his guard down. The fact that he allowed himself to be vulnerable around you was a privilege that you’d never take for granted. “You take all my fucked up, broken pieces and put me back together again. With you, I feel whole.” 
“It doesn’t matter how many times you fall apart, Teddy. I will always be here to pick up the pieces.” 
“Me too,” Theo murmured sleepily. He leaned over and kissed you, soft and sweet and pure. Your heart ached for him. You were convinced that your soul would’ve searched through infinity and back just to find him. “That’s what you do for the people you love.”
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callofdooty69 · 3 months
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part 1 - könig
ghost: loving like a dog
ghost doesn’t love like a pet. he doesn’t love like a domesticated dog, no no. ghost loves like a stray. he loves like a flee-ridden mutt, one that has matted fur and smells like charcoal and covered in dirt.
ghost loves like a stray dog because it’s all he knows. no one has ever loved him like you do. he’s used to people judging and pushing him away to the point where his guard is constantly up. he doesn’t know any better. he doesn’t know how to love.
once you truly understand him, he slowly becomes a domesticated lover. he no longer has flees. he doesn’t reek of sadness and pain, but of calming shampoo and soft fur. he doesn’t have a matter coat and damaged personality, his teeth aren’t yellow, and his nails are no longer sharp and threatening.
ghost loves like a domesticated dog, once a stray mutt with no one to love. now, he has you. you helped him, you healed him. he doesn’t go hungry in the street anymore. he doesn’t scare away anyone that gets close to him. now, he has someone to protect and care about instead of shutting himself out from the world with the interior walls he’s spent his life putting up.
ghost used to love like a stray, flee-ridden mutt. it took him ages to get used to the walls he put up slowly crumbling and breaking down. he doesn’t stay up all night, lost in the thought of being alone for the rest of his once miserable existence. he has you.
ghost loves like a dog. and it’s all thanks to you.
****
as always, feel free to send requests via comments/anons╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
- 𝓀.𝒿
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onlyseokmins · 11 months
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size matters • l.c.
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Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬
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"I'm worried my dick's too big."
Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.
He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.
And no one wants that.
"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."
Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 
He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.
"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"
"You're drunk."
"So are you." 
Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.
"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."
You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."
"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."
Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 
"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 
You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 
He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."
"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."
"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."
"You know I'm not!"
"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."
Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"
"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."
Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.
Or maybe that's just the alcohol.
Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 
"Are you flaccid right now?"
"What's it to you?"
"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."
He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."
"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 
"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.
"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"
Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 
"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"
"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."
"Then you should try harder."
He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 
Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 
Like always.
Except it's not.
All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 
You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.
"Am I boring you, baby?"
"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"
He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"
"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."
"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."
"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."
"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"
Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."
"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"
The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.
You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"
"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 
That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.
"Ah, well, so do I!" 
Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.
Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 
While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 
"I wanna go home."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel like leaving."
He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Ooh… are you jealous?"
"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."
"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."
His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.
Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 
Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.
"You want to go to my place?"
"Yeah."
He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"
"Sure. Maybe condoms too."
"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"
Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 
There's no one there, of course.
"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."
"You do? Good."
"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"
Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"
"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."
His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"
"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"
One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."
"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."
He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"
"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"
"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 
Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 
"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."
Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 
But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 
He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.
"You've been thinking about me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your pussy has too?"
"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."
"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"
And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.
Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.
He needs to get home fast. Now.
The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.
"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."
The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 
"No. You have to wait."
"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."
"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"
You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 
He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.
"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."
His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 
"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.
"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."
"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."
Neither one of you care. 
In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 
Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 
"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."
Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 
Oh, you cannot wait.
He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!
Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.
Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 
"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 
Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.
"C'mon bestie, please."
"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."
"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"
Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 
"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"
His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 
"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.
And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.
The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 
Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.
"You can't make me cum."
"What? Why? Need to stretch — "
"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"
"God, yes."
You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."
Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.
It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.
He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.
Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.
There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 
It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.
And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 
The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 
Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.
You're on the brink of climaxing.
And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.
Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.
He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 
"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.
"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."
"Can't believe you didn't rip them."
"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.
"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"
"Huh?"
It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."
With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.
"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."
"You love it."
"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."
You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.
"Someone's full of surprises."
"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."
Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "
"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 
You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.
"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.
His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.
It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.
"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.
You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.
It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 
Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.
He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.
It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.
"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."
"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"
"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"
You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 
"Mhm… yeah."
"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"
"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"
"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"
"Mhmph! More… more!"
A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 
Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.
He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.
Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.
"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"
Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.
"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."
"All… all for you!"
Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"
Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.
That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 
His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.
"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."
You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."
"That's not how it works."
Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 
You're honestly a little offended. 
He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 
Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 
You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 
"Good thing I'm flexible." 
"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 
"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 
You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 
"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."
What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 
To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 
Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 
But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.
Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 
It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"
And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.
White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 
Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.
"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."
He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.
Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 
Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.
It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.
"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.
He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 
Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.
There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."
"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."
"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"
"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."
"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."
"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."
It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.
"So, you're mine now too?"
"If that's okay with you."
And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.
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onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©
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fluffykitteninabox · 1 year
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me googling: at what point does an ao3 comment thread become too long?
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mickyschumacher · 11 months
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: charles leclerc, at the end of the day, is a simple man. so of course, when you show up to the annual f1 dinner dressed like a goddess, it becomes impossibly hard for charles to keep his hands to himself.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), established bf/gf relation, reader has a vagina, semi-public fingering, breeding kink (?), cum fetish, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), edging, orgasm denial
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x gf!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+
𝐀/𝐍: first post ahhhh... this was proof read but i wouldn't put it past me to have a few errors. hope you like it! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
"Merde (shit)," Charles swore under his breath as he caught you finishing up.
You raised a brow at him through the mirror of your bedroom. Putting on your earrings, you asked, "What's wrong, Charles?"
You watched through the mirror as Charles walked up behind you. He gave a small smile to you, resting his shin on your bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. You returned a warm smile, leaning into him and resting your hands over his.
He pinched the silk fabric in his hands. "Can I convince you to change dresses?"
A small frown made its way onto your face while you mended your brows together. "Why? You don't like it?" You queried while eyeing yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked quite good.
It was a silk dress in pure white. It had its spaghetti straps that connected to the bunch of white silk hanging around your chest as the rest of the silk clung to you body, fitting each on of your curves snuggly. On the right side of your body, the dress had a slit for your leg to peak through. On the back, the spaghetti straps cross over each other as the fabric hung loose around your lower back.
You had paired it with a necklace Charles had got you for your anniversary: a thin gold chain with a small gold plated heart-shaped ruby. Your hair was also down and styled with a few soft curls that complimented your face.
Altogether, it was simple yet beautiful.
Your eyes snapped to your boyfriend who released a soft chuckle. Charles' eyes twinkled in the light. "Quite the opposite. I love it too much," he whispered into your ear as he rubbed the side of the your hip.
Your felt your breath slow incredibly fast, feeling his lips trail up your neck with small kisses. "Charles," you softly warned. You weren't necessarily complaining. You and Charles often had your hands on each other to the point where one might even say it was sickening. You didn't even have a bra on under the dress. But you both had somewhere to be.
Charles let out a small hum, meeting your eyes in the mirror. He bought his hand out, tracing your lips with his thumb. "Yes, mon amour (my love)?" He asked with feigned innocence.
Your eyes narrowed. "You can't start now. We're going to be late if you keep this up."
Charles pursed his lips, pouting as he turned you around to face him. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "Who cares? We can have dinner here. Just you and me. Doesn't that sound nice, amour (love)? I even know what I want for dessert."
You felt him pull you closer into him, his lips hovering over yours as his hand trailed up and down your leg.
You felt a grin play onto your face. You leaned closer, feeling impossibly close to him. "Oh Charles," You trailed you finger over his lip, in which he clearly invited the gesture as he bought your finger into his mouth. "In your dreams," you deadpanned, abruptly taking your finger out of his mouth and placing a kiss on his cheek.
You let out a sigh, pushing aside your own arousal. "Now come on. We need to leave."
━━━━━━━━━━━
Charles was not a happy man, to say the least. You had practically blueballed him and despite being thirty minutes into dinner, plus the twenty minute drive to the restaurant, all he could think of is you.
You were sat next to him, conversing with Lily, Alex's girlfriend, about her job as a professional golfer. A job that required a lot more training and thought than you had previously thought. Honestly, you were having a such great time that you hadn't realised you were even neglecting your on-the-edge boyfriend until you felt a hand on your right leg.
"Charles, you good?" You asked.
Charles wanted to laugh because you had asked in so much earnest. Like you had genuinely forgot. Of course, he wasn't one to let you forget.
You felt him tug your chair both closer to the table, so the laced table drapes covered you, and to him. His hand moved from your leg to receive the the warmth of your inner upper thigh.
You looked at him almost dumbfounded. "Charles, amour, no," you said through gritted teeth as you gave him a fake smile. It's not that you didn't want to, but how were you supposed to act normal for the whole dinner? Especially when you and Charles both knew what his fingers did to you.
Charles only sported a grin on his face. His fingers continued to creep up your thigh, nearing your white laced underwear, which you had worn for the sole purpose of matching your dress, of course.
Your breathed hitched as you felt his fingers skim over your underwear. Your skin, he could tell, was beginning to burn with heat as it glistened with small traces of sweat. Whether it was out of embarrassment or arousal, hell, or both, Charles didn't care. Whatever was going on, he enjoyed it.
His fingers slid under your panties and found themselves in the heats of your soft lips of your pussy. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You were soaked down there. His two fingers already felt drenched. Charles knew that this hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. "Ma belle (my beautiful), be honest with me. You've been wet since you teased me in your bedroom, right? All of this... for me..."
If the slight quiver of your walls near his fingers didn't give you the answer, you sure did with a curt nod. How were you supposed to feel nothing for this blue-eyed, dimpled man who looked good in everything, but especially a suit?
Charles smiled. "That's what I thought. Thank you for being so honest, ma belle. I think that deserves an award," he whispered.
You felt yourself still at his voice as his fingers trailed over your clit a few times before he pushed them into your pussy. You pressed your lips together, suppressing the moan that so desperately wanted to escape your throat.
Charles couldn't help but grin further, darting his eyes from the conversation he was partially in with Carlos and Lando and to the glorious sight underneath the table. He couldn't entirely see your pussy but god could he imagine. You enveloping his fingers entirely as he thrusted back and forth. The trickles of your body running down his fingers.
He cleared his throat, taking a sip of his champagne as he adjusted himself. He was growing hard as every second passed. As much as he loved teasing you and fingering you... he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to watch as his cock entered you... the ring of white you made around him... your hips bucking for more... fuck.
You clenched around his fingers, feeling a pit at your stomach grow. You let out the shakiest and quietest sigh known to Earth. There was no way Charles was about to let cum with some of your closest friends around you... surely...
The answer to that qualm was a 'no' as Charles' fingers started to speed up. Jesus.
You must've been flushed to the max as you had to awkwardly laugh off Pierre's comment to "lay off the champagne". Honestly, that was your limit.
Before you could get any closer to your climax and risk losing it in front of everybody, you placed a hand on Charles' crotch, making him still his fingers and flicker his eyes to you.
His eyes hardened as you slowly rubbed him through his pants. "Charles, if you continue any further, I swear to god, I will blueball you till the end of the week. Let's be patient, okay, sweetie?" The sickly sweet smile on your face was in a hard contrast compared to the harsh whispers falling from your lips.
Charles' tongue darted out his lips and fell to the side. He rested his hand on yours and patted it gently. Although, to anyone, such a promise sounded empty. He was sure you would do it. It happened all the time even unintentionally. He placed a small kiss to your cheek. With a calm composure and through gritted teeth, he murmured, "Okay, mon amour."
━━━━━━━━━━━
The ride back home was impossibly and scarily quiet. There was a lot of tension in the car. The both of you were still hooked on the adrenaline of risking yourselves in public and still horny as ever. Evident as Charles had applied more pressure to the accelerator and the cars nearby went from blurs to dashing streaks.
You were opening the door to your house as you felt Charles’ arms wrap around you. "Faster, mon amour, I can't keep my hands to myself," he whispered, starting kiss your neck.
You felt your heart pick up its pace when you heard the door click closed. Soon enough, both of your shoes were off, Charles' lips were crashing into yours, and your hands were in his hair. The fire between you two had reached a new height as Charles relished the moan that had fallen from your mouth. God, he had been waiting to hear that the entire dinner.
Bringing you back into your bedroom, Charles left kisses everywhere he could as he peeled back the straps of your dress, and gently removed the attired off your body, leaving you only clothed in your soaked panties and his necklace.
"Fuck," he groaned, hovering over you to hold the necklace between his fingers. "You look so good, mon amour."
The smile on your lips made his heart race once again. He smiled, planting a firm kiss on your lips before his hands started to trail down to your chest. Your breasts were what he considered a global treasure in his world, you. He loved everything about them; their softness, their plumpness... but especially, their sensitivity.
Charles latched his mouth around one nipple, leaving his hand to the other. His tongue swirled around the pebbled mound as his fingers circled the other.
You let out a sigh of pleasure, arching your back and raising your hand to feel his hair to push more of yourself into him. The obscene slurps of your breasts went straight to your core as Charles released your nipple with a slick pop.
"Ma belle," Charles breathed out, his fingers reaching your soaked panties. He pulled the drenched material away from your heated pussy. "I need to taste you," he spoke, himself drenched in desperation.
He pulled down the panties, revealing in all its glory, the pussy he had been thirsting over at dinner. He let out a moan as he prodded at your engorged lips.
You feel a shiver come over your body when his breath hit your pussy. His tongue took one long strip at your folds. His blues eyes averted back to yours, holding your gaze and blossoming an indescribable feeling within the both of you. "Look at me, love, while I devour you."
You managed to give a small nod as he returned his attention to your folds, all while maintaining eye contact. "Fuck," you moaned out, trying hard to not throw your head back as he dipped his mouth into you. It seemed that was still hungry from the dinner as he was true to his promise.
Charles was devouring you almost as if he were some sort of animal. He groaned in pleasure, sending a sort of vibrations through your core. He continuously lapped at your folds, drunk on the taste of you. "You taste so good," he grunted, bringing his lips around your clit.
You arched your back into the bed, toes curling at the sheets beneath you. "Fuck, Charles!" You bucked your hips into his mouth, giving into the need to roll your head back. When you looked back up, Charles was a sight to behold. His tongue traveled in circles around your sensitive nub. His stubble was soaked in your juices. He somehow even managed a smirk while eating you out.
"Charles... I'm gonna-" you began before cutting out as his tongue darted further into your folds. "God," you moaned out, your grip on his hair tightening.
"Don't say my name in vain, mon amour," Charles quipped, feeling a slight convulsion of your body as he thumbed your clit.
If Charles wasn't about to make you cum, you would've smacked that grin right off his face. But you were so close...
Charles placed a light kiss to your clit, removing his face from your pussy. He felt a sense of enjoyment follow him as a familiar terror spread over your face.
"No. Charles. Please. God, I want to cum," You whined out.
Charles looked at your flushed face, pushing your hair behind your ears like he did earlier this evening. Somehow, you had become even more beautiful. On the verge of a climax, fucked out, skin flushed and doused in arousal and sweat.
"I need to be in you... fuck, to fill you up, Y/N," Charles hissed in pleasure as he thought about his cum oozing from your hole.
"Hurry, Charles. I need you."
That was all you had to said as Charles rushed to finally take off his clothes.
You watched his thick cock hit his toned stomach and let out a small moan. Charles hovered over you, bringing you into a deep kiss. You could feel his cock nudge the sides of the pussy. Purposely, he dragged himself up and down your folds, intoxicated off the edging feeling.
"Fuck, Charles."
God, he loved the way you moaned his name. It was one of those other things that sent him overboard. Knowing that he was making you feel like that. That it was his cock teasing you. His fingers you clenched around. His voice that made you wet.
Charles looked down to your pussy, aligning his cock. He let out a ridiculously low grunt as he watched your folds cover his cock. You fit him so perfectly, it drove him crazy. His cock was snug and tight in you. It felt like one move in you would send him off.
You let out another moan, feeling his thick cock fill you up. His hands gripped your hips, turning you around so you sat on him. "Ride me, love."
There was nothing Charles wanted more than to see you ride his cock, tits bouncing up and down in sync with his your necklace. And you were happy to comply.
You began to move your hips, hearing the room begin to fill with groans.
"Y/N," Charles moaned, hips bucking to dive deeper into you.
You continued to ride at a semi-fast pace. Lewd sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another filled the air. You could feel his cock reach into the deepest parts of you.
Charles sunk his teeth into his lips, watching a white ring form around his cock. The twinkle of your necklace shone in his eyes, occasionally hitting your nipples as it swung around. It was all so much.
You could feel Charles' cock twitch in you, telling you he was close. You grabbed his hands and placed on them on your hips. Your own hands latched onto your breast and the other to your clit.
Charles tightened his grip on your hips before starting to thrust at an immense speed. "Merde," he swore, feeling you clench and take even more of him in you. He could catch the slight shake of your hands as you also neared your climax.
"Come with me, amour. Let me fill you with my cum," he groaned.
That dirty mouth of his and his rousing cock... it was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a high-pitched moan, the end almost silent as your orgasm hit you in hard waves. "Fuck, Charles!"
Charles followed you soon. He moaned, bring you down and holding you tightly. This new angle sent you both into a new spiral. His hips stuttered at an abnormal pace, feeling his cum paint your walls. He let out a string of colourful words, letting his orgasm take any extra drops of his cum into you.
Charles smiled, kissing the side of your forehead. "You did well, mon armour."
You gave him a tired smile. "You too, my love," you murmured before bringing him into a soft and lazy kiss.
Charles watched as you removed yourself from his cock. Only resulting him in a moan from the both of you as his cum trailed out of you.
"God," Charles gulped, feeling his cock harden once again.
You smirked. "I thought you were God, Charles," you teased.
Charles narrowed his eyes at you. "I guess I'm going to have to show you again, ma belle."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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keyotos · 24 days
Text
face-to-face
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summary ↯
aventurine has a bit of a staring problem while shopping
tags ⎯ unestablished relationship. like we are in the baby stages of their relationship. minor jealousy. lots of banter. lowk dialogue heavy.
word count ⎯ 3.3k
tana's thoughts ⎯ aventurine has taken over my brain so here's a snippet of the series i'm writing
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over the years, it's become easier for you to notice when someone stares at you. before, it was an uncomfortable feeling. you felt eyes peering over your shoulder as if you were a pest–it made your skin churn and shoulders twitch up self-consciously. now though, gazes move past you like air. you don't care as much about the opinions of other people–it's not like you'll be seeing them for long anyway.
except, today is different.
you can feel aventurine's colorful eyes trail your every move. from the moment you chose the necklace, to the moment you took it up to the cashier. he wasn't being as inconspicuous as he assumed to be: that died after the fifth glance that he shot your way while you were inspecting said necklace.
even through his glasses, aventurine's stare was burning and heavy. you never thought that such light-colored eyes could install such a hefty weight on your back, but aventurine proves you wrong.
while the cashier rings up your necklace, you look back at aventurine. coincidentally, he was already eyeing you before you even turned around. so when you catch him, he thinks that the other pieces of jewelry in the store are far more interesting than your face could ever be.
you scrunch your eyebrows and shake it off. by now, you're quite used to his unusual antics, so you brush him off. the cashier engages in light conversation with you, and then you feel it again. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and everything feels like it's weighted down.
you bid the cashier goodbye, and aventurine follows you outside. his hands are in his pockets while he whistles, almost like he wants you to start talking. you shoot him a confused look back, your eyebrow raised and nose crinkled.
when he only whistles louder, you decide to poke the bear.
"okay, what is it?" you stop and turn to face him.
"what? you don't like my whistling?" aventurine responds with an innocent tone; he even shrugs his shoulders like he has no idea what's going on.
you huff, "not just the whistling. what's up with your staring?" you raise a hand up to his eyes, "we're supposed to be acting normal. i don't think gawking at the person you're shopping with is exactly normal."
aventurine's jolts back, like he was accused of murder instead of ogling. "i wasn't gawking."
you nod, "yeah, you were staring."
"those mean the same thing."
"i think you've been hanging out with the doctor too much," you roll your eyes and continue walking. aventurine quickly marches up to you, matching your pace sooner than you thought.
"are you trying to compare me to him? we're completely different people, you know that, right? i don't act like him at all," aventurine rambles on. his head is turned to you so that his mouth is directly next to your ear, meaning you hear all of his words. you can't tune him out like usual.
"first of all," it's your turn to look at him, "i just said you hang out with him a lot. and you do, don't you?" aventurine's lips fall into a flat as you say that.
"and second of all, stop changing the subject. why were you staring at me back there?"
the man next to you huffs, and it sounds nearly childlike, "i'm not changing the subject. i'm just trying to tell you that i'm nothing like the doctor," he says with disdain.
"you are changing the subject, otherwise you wouldn't be talking about dr. ratio as much as you are now," you glance around at the various stores surround the two of you, and for a second, you swear that you see aventurine's eyes linger on you once more.
"you did it again!" you fully stop, pointing a finger at his eyes.
aventurine has to catch himself before he falls over at your sudden stop. "what? what are you talking about?"
"you keep glancing over at me! do i have something in my face? my teeth?" a large smile blossoms across your face as you beam at aventurine. for a moment, his annoyed facade falters, and his face relaxes.
"no, and if you did, i'd tell you," he swats a hand in your face, "i don't know what you're talking about."
you roll your eyes. it's obvious that he's hiding something, because usually his lies are more believable. but when you're catching him in the act, denial is not a good way to refute false claims.
"yeah, whatever," you look around the plaza the two of you are currently in when another store catches your eye. your face instantly brightens, and you wander towards the doors.
it's another clothing store, similar to all the other ones on the planet. except, something specific drew you here, and it was the display of hats they had near the window. you walk up to it, spinning the shelf around a few times to grasp onto all the options. your eyes are wide and your mouth is slightly parted as you examine each hat with awe.
unbeknownst to you, aventurine catches up to you and finds you fumbling around with each hat on the rack.
he sneaks up behind you, mumbling, "now, that's what you call gawking."
you jump up in surprise, hitting your head on something more soft than the hard shelf. aventurine quickly redacts his hand from the top of your head.
"i'm just doing what any normal shopper would do," you rub the top of your head before going back to the hats. aventurine's long sigh rings in your ear as you browse.
"yeah, okay," he looks at the selection of hats beside you, "i doubt anything you do is normal, but–" aventurine doesn't get to finish his sentence. he hears your boisterous gasp, and his eyes are on you once more.
"do you see this!!" you lift a fedora up to his eyes, "we could match," you whisper it like a secret, as if matching would be your thing. like matching would only be a tangible thought between the two of you, and no one else.
"yeah, no," aventurine lifts the hat down and places it back on the shelf, "sorry sweetheart, but the hat is my thing."
you grimace at the pet name, "mkay. so, you're gatekeeping fedoras now?"
aventurine sputters, "what? what is gatekeeping?"
you heavily sigh, and aventurine is pretty sure you're putting on an act right now. "are you serious? how do you not know what gatekeeping is?" you shake your head as you grab the hat from the shelf, "anyway, i think i know the real reason you don't want to match."
"because it's childish? and totally not my style?"
you turn around and flick your partner on the shoulder, "no. and you really have been hanging around the doctor too much." you shudder and place the hat on your head, "i think it's because you know i would show you up in it."
aventurine muffles a chortle when he sees you put on the fedora, "keep in mind that we're in the land of dreams."
your lips curl up in the way that they always do when you're annoyed. you are not very amused by his bits today. "you suck," you take the fedora off and continue browsing for different options.
you hear aventurine's footsteps gradually get softer and softer as you keep browsing. that's fine, you think, this is his shopping trip too–he's allowed to find things for himself.
one hat after another: that's your current predicament at the moment. you're glad aventurine is off doing his own shopping, but you also wish that you glued him to the ground so he could give you a second opinion. unfortunately, he is nowhere to be seen, and you are having trouble deciding between two caps.
"do you need any help finding anything?" a voice perks up from behind you, making your shoulders jolt up. it's not the voice you want to hear, instead it belongs to a lovely retail worker.
"ah, no thank you," you smile politely and turn back to the two hats in your hand.
"okay, let me know if you need anything!" sometimes, you wonder how retail employees are able to maintain such a chipper tone of voice for hours on end. do they really want to help you or are they just saying that because they have to?
and that's when the thought hits you: either way, they're still offering themselves up. your eyes widen and you rush towards the employee.
"actually, wait!" he turns around when you touch his shoulder, "i do need help. and this is gonna sound super random–and possibly weird–but what do you think of these two hats?"
you put one hat on–a red one that seems to flop on your head, "this one is nice, right?" the employee in front of you just nods. he's a bit tense and stiff; it seems like he's trying not to offend you.
"yeah, i think it's nice too. only thing is that it's kinda flopping on my head, and caps aren't really supposed to flop," you take it off and hold it in your hand.
you're surprised the employee hasn't made his break yet, because he's still standing in front of you when you grab the other cap.
"and this one," you hold your free hand up to the new, black hat, "is the one that belongs to my favorite team. well, i guess the other one also belonged to another one of my–"
"what are you doing?" you can recognize that voice anywhere. that voice that carries a slightly whiny tone. that voice that always seems to have some judgement sprinkled throughout it.
you and the worker both seem surprised. well, the employee seems to be more intimidated than surprised, but either way, his entire face had gone pale.
"um, trying on hats?" you take off the cap and hold it up.
"i can see that," he looks over towards the employee in front of you, "but is it seriously a two-person job?"
you scrunch your eyebrows together, "i needed a second opinion."
"you could've asked me," aventurine whispered, though it sounded more like a hiss.
"i think someone else needs help," the employee takes a few steps back from the both of you, "i hope you find everything!" there it is. he tries his best to sound cheerful, but his voice quivered as he moved away from the two of you.
"he was such a nice guy," you said as you waved goodbye. aventurine did not look as pleased as you did.
"we're supposed to be laying low. you know that, right?" the blond emphasizes.
you shake him off, "yeah, and tell me how a regular retail worker is gonna rat us out? what about us possibly screams 'sleuth'?"
"we're buying hats." aventurine isn't very proud of his answer, and he can tell that you thought it was weak as well.
"so everyone that buys hats are suspicious?" you retort, putting on the cap you previously took off. "do i look like a murderer to you?"
aventurine sighs. his fingers go to his temples and you're sure that you've brought him to his last nerve.
"this hat is better than the other one," he puts the red one back onto the shelf. "the other one practically fell on your face. i doubt you could even see with that one."
you look at the red hat and then look back at aventurine, furrowing your eyebrows together. "that was a specific answer. i never even showed you what the red hat looked like."
aventurine cleared his throat, and the ceiling must look extra nice, "i overheard the other guy talking. you're loud, y'know that?"
your face immediately breaks out in a huge grin, so wide and bright that aventurine looks back at you for a mere second, before turning back to the ceiling.
"you were doing it again!! the staring! goodness, i thought you were good at lying," you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to garner his attention, "admit it. i've caught you."
"i'm being serious. you're a little loud," aventurine crosses his arms, biting on the inside of his cheek.
"la-la-la-la. can't hear you. guess i'm speaking too loudly to notice," you put the black cap on again–the brim sticking the opposite direction–and look in the mirror. "hey, since you're here, can you give me another opinion."
aventurine nods for you to continue, and you smile, "perfect. does this make me look like a cool galactic baseball player?"
this is what takes him aback, "huh? why would you want to look like that?"
"well, i'm going to a game soon, and i didn't want to look like a fake fan," you shrug and look in the mirror again. "but now that i'm really looking at myself, i think i’d be an amazing galactic baseballer. what do you think?”
you pretend to hold a baseball bat in your hands, getting into a hitter stance. you make sound effects as you swing your pretend-bat into aventurine's chest, aiming for the open hole in the middle.
aventurine reaches over your head, "well first of all, i'm pretty sure baseball players wear their caps the right way." he grabs your hat and places it on the right way, but not without making sure the brim covered your eyes.
"are you serious right now?!" you yelp, quickly pulling up the hat so you can regain your vision.
and there aventurine is, staring at you again.
you briefly gulp before broadcasting, "you're staring!" you march closer to him. "i caught you!" you're only inches apart now. "and it was obvious!" your finger is pointed at his eyes, but unlike earlier, your finger is much closer.
if you had gotten only an inch closer, you would be able to feel aventurine's heartbeat, despite not even being chest-to-chest.
"okay, okay," aventurine is the first one to step back, and you feel something sinking, "but that was only once."
"yeah, whatever. 'once.' not like i haven't caught you a million other times," you shook your head and regained your baseball posture, "you can't hide from these sharp eyes. told you i'd be a great galactic baseballer."
the blond chuckles, and your eyebrows raise up at the sound, "keep dreaming."
"well, a really weird guy did tell me earlier that we are in the land of dreams. so, if i dreamt that i could be a galactic baseballer, it'd actually happen."
aventurine tilts your hat down once more, dismissing your cries while he does it.
"remember what i said about acting normal?"
"this is actually pretty normal for me," you take the hat off.
"can't argue with that," aventurine looks towards the cashier and then back at you. you raise an eyebrow, as if to raise the question, "is there something wrong with my hair?"
if there is, aventurine doesn't do something about it. surprising, since he's practically been doing something this whole trip. "are you ready to go up?" he asks you.
"you're not gonna get anything?" you look around the store, "we can look at stuff for you. there's tons of things here."
aventurine shakes his head and gives you a wink, "i've got everything i need." you suck in a sharp breath, and you try to focus on anything else other than how fast your heart begins to beat. when aventurine turns his back away from you, then you gulp.
when the two of you get to the cash register, you stand next to aventurine, preparing to pay. you're well aware of how costly things on penacony are–after all, this whole planet is like a tourist attraction. that's why you're paying with card instead of the usual credits.
"did you find everything?" the cashier asks you. you smile at the woman and nod, making idle chatter with her while aventurine idly stands next to you.
the woman turns over to aventurine, "i'm guessing you also want to pay for your item too?"
it's aventurine's turn to plaster a smile on his face. from what you've gathered from being with him so often, his smiles are often sly. some would compare it to the cheshire cat, but you thought he rather resembled an evil cartoon villain.
"yes ma'am," his saccharine voice masked his villain grin, "do you still have it?"
"that i do," she responds, grabbing something from underneath the counter. your eyes fly from the woman to aventurine. you simply couldn't believe what you were looking at.
"you're buying the freaking feodora?" your posture straightens and you beam up at him, "i knew you wanted to match!"
"slow your roll," aventurine puts a hand up to you, "who said i was buying this for you?"
your smile drops and you shove his shoulder, "are you serious? i thought you didn't like that hat."
"i didn't not like the hat. i just didn't like the thought of us matching," he tilts his head to smirk at you.
the cashier's eye's bounce between you two, not knowing whose side to take. eventually, she settles for ringing your cap and aventurine's feodora up, not even wanting to say a word.
"alright, who's paying?" she looks up at the both of you.
"i am," you and aventurine say in unison. your face contorts while aventurine displays a confused expression.
"um," you whisper, stepping closer to the blond next to you, "i'm paying."
"um," aventurine mocks you, "you're broke."
"not broke!" you kick his shin, and aventurine grips onto the counter in order to keep his balance, "just budgeting."
"yeah, and you know who don't have to budget? people that aren't broke."
"so he's paying?" the cashier interrupts. you step away from aventurine out of shame. he can have this.
when aventurine sees you put away your wallet, he proudly hands his card up to the woman in front of you. when she looks down to scan his card, he shoots you a sly look and a wink. your mouth rests in a flat line and your eyes show no signs of hilarity.
the moment the two of you step out of the store, you immediately go for aventurine's bag. before he could even catch you, the hat is already in your hands.
"we can switch!" you try to reason with him, "you would be a great baseball player. just, y'know, not as great as me."
"and..." you sing, "we wouldn't match. wouldn't that suit both of our goals?"
aventurine looks over at you, and his gaze is softer. this time, you don't get onto him for gawking. how could you, when he's looking at you like that? you don't think you've ever seen him like that... ever.
you squint your eyes, trying to decipher his real expression. but there's nothing for you to investigate.
"what?" you ask.
"you can keep it."
immediately you take a step back, nearly bumping into a bystander walking behind you. you shout a quick apology before returning back to aventurine, "didn't you buy this for yourself though? what's the point of me keeping it?"
"i just realized that it didn't go with any of the outfits i have," he sighed, looking into the distance, "what a waste of money. so, it's yours."
"what kind of bullshit is that?" you scold the blond, "you always have to think about whether or not you'd actually wear the item before you buy it. that's like... number one rule of shopping."
"i don't shop that much," aventurine shrugs, glancing at you one last time before focusing on the street ahead. he bites the inside of his cheek and tries his hardest not to look to the side. you'd give him hell for it.
but you're not focused on that. everything's slow, and it feels like the street is empty.
"well, then we're gonna have to go more often."
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luveline · 4 months
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I’m on my knees for anything bombshell and spence 🙏🏽 maybe their first real date??? or them working a case after they are officially together
Oh, the misery. 
You and Spencer are supposed to be in a low lit restaurant right now feeding each other spoonfuls of parsnip soup between lovey-dovey eyefuls of one another, legs tangled under the table, your kitten heel scratching against the rubber sole of his converse. 
You're supposed to be dressed to the nines, your shawl fragrant with the vanilla perfume Spencer likes so much, a dress cut to the thigh that shows just a little too much when you lean forward. You're supposed to be kissing like idiots in the back seat of your car. 
“They haven't seen anything this bad since the Creek Killer, and this is two active UnSub's at once, so let's keep that in mind,” Hotch says, nodding to the door for Rossi to follow. He sends you and Spencer a look that may or may not be knowing as he adds, “And keep this professional.” 
“Aren't we professional?” you ask Spencer. 
“No!” Morgan calls, he and Emily already out the door. 
Hotch and Rossi are on crime scene duty. Morgan and Emily the victim's family. JJ will be snapping at the heels of the ravenous media in an attempt to dissuade them from following this case too closely: it's a bad one. Coverage will make it worse. 
You're on theory. There are two halves to your job —analysing past cases with similarities, and scrutinising the details of the current case. What you really want is to be analysing Spencer Reid's stupid hot face, and for his hands to be scrutinising your hips. Or your legs. Or your mouth. 
“I know what you're thinking.” 
You raise your eyebrows at Spencer. “I don't think you do.” 
He laughs, “No, I do.” His tie gets caught under his elbow as he grabs your notebook. “They always give you the worst jobs.”
“That's just not true, Mr. Reid. This is my very favourite job.”  
“Dr. Reid,” Spencer corrects, a smile already playing on his lips in anticipation of your reaction. 
You needle an elbow into his side until he huffs and pulls away. Surrendering. Typical. Displaced air fans your hand as he opens your notebook to a blank page. “We'll start with UnSub commonalities, just as soon as…” he murmurs, his pen scratching across the top line. You can't see past his shoulder. 
“Serials targeting women,” you say immediately. “Likely older, white, male, the usual. Murders are incisive, and disgusting, but the signatures are so different, they can't be– Does the pen not work?” 
Spencer shakes his head, sliding the notebook across the table to you. “Had to do this first.” 
Caveats for perfect first date, Spencer's written, a list with one lonely bullet point. Me and you together. 
You shouldn't be surprised. It's really not unlike him to be sweet, but this is alarmingly confident. I'm gonna eat him, you think, looking up with a smirk that turns soft at the sight of him. His cheeks are marbling with red flush, hair in his eyes as he stares anywhere but you. 
“Spence, are you blushing?” you ask fondly. 
“Don't be upset about tonight,” he murmurs, ignoring you with a hint of worry to his tone. “I know it's not what you wanted, but I– we can still go, when we're home–” 
You press your lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile. “Yeah, we can still go, but you're right, Spence. You are. This is as good a place as any. 'N' I can make any date perfect.” 
Your joke rescues him from the depths of mortification. He clears his throat, says, “Exactly. But we should get back to the list.” 
He takes your hand under the table, long fingers sewn between yours.
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