#but i can only admit it to myself at 2am :/

[robertsbarbie]

during the day i live by the “you never know” can do mentality but at night im confronted with the deep pitted fear that im not trying super hard to find a job in my industry because i dont think i can do it so if i dont seriously try i cant be hurt by the actual trying and failing

[harksness]

Or also milf Agatha who’s just recently divorced ( from a man ) and kind of always had to be the “ perfect submissive wife “ so when she meets you at a bar when Wanda had dragged her to go out, all changes.

Agatha slowly learning she likes to be more in control and being such a good domme to you like AHHHHHHHHH I NEED HER TO BE MY MOMMY AGATHA SAUR BAD

PLLLSSS YOURE MAKING ME GO ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED SDJNIAGFLDJFG MOMMY AGATHA IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED IN MY LIFE

I WENT WAAY TOO OVERBOARD W THIS ONE OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED AND I WROTE A WHOLE FIC WHEN I SAW THIS AT 2AM ?? i didnt know i had this in me atm but the horny brainrot for mommy agatha was just too real it's like that + the sleep deprivation possessed me

mommy agatha would fix all my problems in life rn i need her so bad auughghghghghghg

"I'm sure it's been a long time since you've had some fun. We need to find you some action."

Wanda winks at Agatha and the older woman rolls her eyes with a soft scoff as she raises her drink to her lips.

"Oh please, nothing with Ralph was ever fun. It was just... Sex."

Agatha sighs, a crushing feeling weighing down on her when she realizes just how miserable her life with that man was. How.. Unfulfilling.

You're told as a woman to marry a good man, be a good, submissive wife, make sure to make him happy. A few months ago Agatha came to the crashing realization that maybe what she wanted wasn't what she had been told to want her whole life.

Then she realized just how bad the sex actually was.

And she promptly filed for a divorce not long after. There wasn't much love lost on her end, the years had worn on her and she was ready for this a while ago. The only thing lost on her end was time. And she doesn't want to waste any more of it.

After confiding all of these heavy feelings to her dear friend Wanda, this was the idea she came up with to help. A popular bar in Westview.

"Okay, so.. It's your first night of freedom, of being able to decide exactly what you want for yourself and from sex. What's the first thing that pops into your head?"

Wanda smiles at her, resting her elbow on the table in front of her and plopping her head into the palm of her hand. Agatha pauses for a moment in thought.

What does she want?

Her bright blue eyes scan over the crowd of people in the dimly lit bar, hoping for the realization to smack her in the face.

"Honestly? A young, pretty girl that can help me learn a thing or two about myself.."

Agatha says plainly, and Wanda hums out in thought, eyes scanning over the crowd.

"Oh! What about her?"

Wanda points across the room, and Agatha's eyes catch on you. Her eyes widen as she takes you in. You're standing with your friends, pretty smile on your face, a tight dress hugging the curves of your body. She's eagerly drinking you in, eyes dragging over every little detail on your figure.

"You think she's cute."

Wanda giggles, and Agatha can tell that her friend is a bit tipsy.

"Oh she's more than cute."

Agatha admits, and Wanda's pushing herself out of her seat. The older woman looks up at her curiously.

"What are you doing?"

Wanda winks.

"Helping you get some fun."

"No, Wanda, not like this-"

All hope is lost. Wanda is already walking across the room towards you, navigating through the thin sea of people to reach you over at the bar. Agatha fights the urge to slump down in her seat and hide from embarrassment. If Wanda's going to be going about it like this, though, she might as well commit to the bit.

So, she pets her hair into place and straightens her posture as Wanda approaches you. She watches in horror as the two of you seem to quickly strike up a friendly conversation.

When Wanda gestures back towards where she's sitting and sipping on her drink and your eyes flicker over and land on her, Agatha's brain short circuits. You smile brightly and wave shyly over at her, and she thinks it's the cutest thing she's ever seen. Agatha leans forward and waves back.

Your friends are playfully pushing you towards the table, your features flushed red as you begin making your way towards her. When you reach the table, Agatha quirks a curious brow at you.

"Agatha, I'm guessing?"

You ask with a sheepish smile. The older woman nods her head.

"That's me, I assume my drunk friend said some very embarrassing things about me that somehow charmed you into coming over here?"

You laugh softly at her words, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Agatha feels her throat go dry, and she's raising her glass to her lips.

"Oh, yes, definitely. But I was more charmed when I looked over here at you."

Agatha grins up at you, butterflies making a fuss in her stomach.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

Eagerly you nod your head, and Agatha scoots over, wanting you to sit close to her. She gestures at the space she just made, hoping you'll slide in right next to her. And you do.

You tell her your name, what college you go to and what you're studying. You make fun, light small talk for a bit, enjoying getting to know each other. You share all of the embarassing things Wanda shared about her with a cute giggle, and Agatha can't even be mad because it got you to come over and sit with her.

Agatha insists on buying you a drink, and you're being so polite and insisting it's okay, you don't want her spending money on expensive cocktails for some girl she's only known for a few minutes. You keep trying to pull out your wallet when she quirks a brow at your politeness.

"Sweetheart, you're a college student. I'm assuming you don't have a ton of money lying around. Now, I do, so be a good girl and let me treat the sweet, cute little thing I'm growing rather fond of to something nice, hm?"

You freeze at her words, eyes wide, and Agatha's worried she screwed up with her forwardness. But a bright smile crosses your features, cheeks flushing as you fold your hands in your lap and nod your head.

"Y-yeah, I mean, if you insist.. Thank you very much."

You stumble through your words, and she notices how you cross your legs. Agatha feels something swirling in her chest, a bit of an ache growing between her legs at your shy compliance. A smile grows on her lips as she orders your favorite cocktail for you.

Agatha decides to be a little more bold.

"Oh, anything for you, honey.."

She coos, breath hot against your neck as she leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A smirk grows on her lips at the way you squirm, her eyes glancing down towards your chest as you heave in a deep breath.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you, hm?"

Agatha asks sweetly, one of her hands landing on your exposed thigh, squeezing the soft skin gently, giving you a chance to tell her to back off if you wanted to. She watches you hopefully.

You laugh shyly, nervously meeting her gaze. You part your lips to speak when the waiter sets your drink down in front of you, severing the tension like a knife. Agatha goes to pull her hand away, disappointment weighing heavy in her gut when your hand darts out to grab hers.

"W-wait.."

You mumble and Agatha's grinning excitedly.

"I mean.. You're just- like, really hot.. It's flustering me a bit.."

Your face is flushed deep red, your gaze avoiding hers.

"So you're okay with this?"

She asks, and you nod your head. She tsk's at you, raising a hand and hooking her finger under your chin as she guides you to look at her.

"Use your words, baby."

Your pupils blow wide at her words, gaze heavy with lust as your eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm really okay with this.."

You mutter out softly and Agatha smiles.

"Good girl."

She melts at the way you gasp when her lips connect with yours. It's soft and sweet, and immediately you're returning her kiss, lips moving eagerly against one another. Agatha already feels addicted to your soft, sweet mouth.

You pull back first, and she's disappointed.

"Do you want to leave?"

The disappointment is quickly replaced with excitement.

"I'd love to. Would you be alright going to my place?"

You nod your head and quickly the two of you are out of there, abandoning your untouched drink on the table. Agatha is holding your hand, guiding you through and out the back of the building as you go to the back parking lot.

It's dark out, the cool night air chilling you skin as you wind between the parked cars, the lights of Agatha's car flickering as she unlocks it.

You tug softly on her hand and she turns to look at you.

"Please, kiss me again.."

You beg so sweetly for her, she's giving you what you want before she even realizes it. Agatha grabs you by the hips, fingers biting softly into your plush skin as she presses you against the side of the car. You gasp at the force, moaning softly as she presses her lips firmly into yours.

She's eager to tear more desperate words out of your mouth. It's the only thing on her mind as she nips at your bottom lip, you snaking your arms up and around her neck to pull her closer into you.

You're letting out little muffled noises into her mouth and she's in heaven, dropping her head to pepper lingering wet kisses against the column of your throat. You let out a sharp sigh.

"Fuck, you're so hot.."

Agatha groans against your skin and you let out a pathetic whimper. She raises her knee between your legs, pressing up and against your center. A moan tears out of your throat as your hands scramble to dig into her back, and Agatha feels dizzy at the look on your face. Your pretty plush lips parted so sweetly, bright eyes lidded over with desire just for her.

Oh, Agatha very quickly figured out what she wants.

She wants you, whimpering and begging and falling apart for her.

You can't control yourself as you start to softly grind against her thigh, rocking your hips back and forth as your teeth dig into your bottom lip. Agatha laughs softly as she leans down to pepper more kisses across your neck.

"Oh? Did I really work you up in the bar?"

She asks, a taunting edge to her voice. You nod your head.

"Use your words, pretty girl.."

Agatha coos, chest swelling at how eager you are to obey her.

"Fuck, yes.. I don't want to wait.."

You whimper out pathetically as you squirm against her thigh, moonlight highlighting your desperate features so beautifully for Agatha. She smirks down at you, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

Her thumb traces over your bottom lip, softly tugging it down and pressing on it before she releases it. Agatha wants to bite your bottom lip, dig her teeth in and have you gasping in pain and pleasure into her mouth so she can swallow every sweet noise you make and have it be part of her forever.

When she raises the digit once again you eagerly part your lips for her. Her smile widens as she traces the outline of your lips with her thumb before pushing it past your lips and into your mouth.

Agatha lets out a hard, controlled breath at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth wrapped around her thumb. Sucking her, pulling her in as your cheeks cave in but you hold her gaze. She leans further into you, grinding her thigh up into your wet cunt. You whimper around her thumb.

Agatha drags the digit out of your mouth, smearing your spit across your bottom lip.

"What do you want?"

She asks lowly, and you moan.

"Fuck, please, please just fuck me in your car. I don't wanna wait."

The teasing has reached its breaking point, you throw your head back and it softly thumps against the car. Agatha grins down at you, cooing softly as she affectionately runs her fingers over your cheek.

"Of course, sweet pea.."

Dropping her leg from between your thighs, the two of you take a step back so she can open the back door. Agatha gestures you in first, and you crawl over the smooth leather seats to the other side in order to make room for her.

She's following close behind, the car swaying a bit with how forcefully she slams the door shut. With a soft click, Agatha ensures the doors are locked and the two of you are secure inside.

You're laying back on the seats, propped up on your elbows as Agatha climbs over you, hungrily drinking you in.

"Fuck, what do you want me to do for you?"

Agatha breathes the words against your neck, her hands desperately roaming over your body, feeling electric with her need to touch you.

"I want you to do whatever you want to me.. Please.."

You beg and her brain short circuits. She can do whatever she wants to you? Her mind starts flying through the endless possibilities, eyes flickering over your body in hungry passes as she tries to make up her mind.

"First, lets take this off.."

Agatha tugs on your dress and you're eager to comply, she helps you pull down the zipper and your lift your hips up off the seat as the two of you get it over your head, leaving you in your underwear before her, laying on the cold leather seats.

She kneels between your spread legs, ghosting her hands over your soft thighs as she admires you spread out before her, your perfect, beautiful body lay ready for her to use however she pleases.

Agatha licks her lips before she leans down, leaving kisses all up your neck before moving down to your collarbone, littering it with more kisses that have you rubbing your thighs together before she moves downwards.

She eyes your breasts hungrily. Pushing the bra straps from your shoulders, she pulls the cups down and frees your chest, an excited sigh dropping past her lips as she dives in for them.

You immediately begin to whimper and squirm under her treatment, one hand eagerly pawing at your right breast while she runs her tongue all over your left, desperate to taste every inch of your skin.

Eventually she moves to your nipple, taking it into her mouth and eagerly sucking. You arch your back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the action. With a soft pop she releases the bud, running the tip of her tongue along it in apologetic passes.

She spends so long worshipping your breasts that your voice grows hoarse, eventually you're pawing and clawing at her desperately.

"Hm?"

Agatha asks, licking her lips as she raises her head from your chest, brown curls wild with how they're falling in disarray from her bun. You're shaking, whimpering pathetically.

"Please, please.. Touch me, Agatha..."

You hadn't noticed the tears that had welled in your eyes and she coos softly down at you, running her fingers along your cheek.

"I'm so sorry sweet girl.. I promise I'll take good care of you.."

She whispers the words apologetically against your cheek, leaving soft kisses on your skin. You nod your head before she continues downward, licking a stripe down your sternum before planting kisses on the soft skin of your tummy, dragging her lips over each of your hips as she hungrily kneads at your thighs.

The woman is crawling back on the seats, lowering herself so that she's between your thighs, licking her lips hungrily as she pulls your underwear to the side. You can't help but feel a bit flushed and embarrassed under her intense gaze, all while loving every second her adoring blue eyes are focused on you.

Immediately when her mouth latches onto your center, your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hands scrambling for purchase on the door behind you as you let out a loud, desperate moan.

"Shit.. Feels so good.."

You whimper, her mouth hot between your legs, messily running her tongue between your wet folds as she groans into you. It already feels so intense, and you know you won't last long as she begins to sloppily assault your clit.

The woman quickly figured out the question she had at the beginning of the night. This is exactly what she wants. A pretty little thing like you, so eager and pliant and willing to take whatever she gives.

It makes her shift, clenching her thighs at just how fucking turned on she is seeing you fall apart beneath her, for her. Every little moan, every word, every tremble and gasp and every bit of sweetness that spills between your thighs is all just for her in this moment, and she's hooked. She can't get enough

Agatha moves her hands to paw at the plush of your thighs, an ache growing between her legs she's never experienced before as she watches you whimper and moan out desperately for her.

Your features scrunch up, mouth hung open in pleasure as she alternates between sloppily sucking and running the flat of her tongue along the little bud.

She grins against you as she feels your thighs begin to tremble against the sides of her head, desperate, breathy noises spilling past your pretty lips as you scramble for purchase, your back arching with every jolt of pleasure that shoots through you.

She groans into you, thinking that she would be happy to suffocate between your soft thighs. As she digs her fingers into your hips and pulls you against her eager mouth, a gasp escaping your lips as the sound of your soft curses reach her ears.

The older woman leans back, and you nearly die at the sight of her pushing her wild brown hair out of her face with the back of her hand as she licks you off of her lips, humming at the taste.

She leans forward, pressing her cheek against your knee as she looks down at you with adoring blue eyes.

"Fuck, you're so pretty, baby.."

Agatha coos down at you, soft smile on her lips as she raises her fingers up to the wet mess between your thighs. You let out a desperate, wanton noise, scrambling to grab at her forearm as she drags her fingers through your folds, taking her sweet time to feel you and toy with you. Her eyes flicker over your glistening center to your pretty face, distorted with pleasure as you thrash against the seats.

"Are you doing okay, sweet girl?"

She asks mockingly, loving the feeling of your nails biting into her forearm. You twist beneath her, writhing in pleasure as you press the side of your face against the leather seat, hair spread in disarray like a halo around your head.

"Yes! Yes, please don't stop.. So good, Mommy.."

You sound so pathetic as the words escape your lips in a broken wheeze, and something snaps in Agatha when you call her that. She thought she couldn't get any more worked up and desperately horny then she already is but fuck, you keep surprising her.

"Call me that again.."

She demands, high on her power over you as she drags her soaked fingers back, carefully easing them into you. You groan out at the stretch, at the intrusion of her long, slender fingers easing you open and sliding deep inside of you.

"Mommy.. Please fuck me.. You're so good to me, Mommy, I need more.."

You didn't even hesitate to obey her, turning to look up at her with your wide, pretty eyes drunk on pleasure.

Your desperate, broken voice has her responding automatically to your pleas for her, carefully curling her long, slender finger as she fucks her hand into your sopping pussy. You're so wet and messy, there's a soft squelching noise with every thrust.

Agatha loves it. You whimper, embarrassed.

"M' sorry.. A-ah.."

You try to apologize, finding yourself unable as you throw your head back in pleasure, so sensitive under her calculated movements. She's smirking down at you, leaning forward and over you with her fingers still buried in your wet cunt.

"Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, angel.. You're absolutely perfect.."

She sighs against your neck, running her tongue along the column of your throat, enjoying the taste of your salty sweat on her tongue as she carefully slips a second finger into you. You let out a loud noise, hand flying to pull at the shirt on her back as she stretches you out, curling her fingers up to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every careful thrust.

"You got such a perfect pussy.. Mommy can't get enough.."

Agatha breathes the words hotly against your neck, her palm soaked with your arousal as she grinds it up against your clit, harshly rubbing against the little nub.

"O-oh! Shit! Fuck!"

You curse, the sensitivity getting to you. You curl your legs up and over her hips, pulling her down into you, as close as you can possibly get her and Agatha moans, her hand trapped inside of you between your two bodies as she grinds her palm against your sensitive clit.

She laughs breathily down at you before leaning down to pepper kisses up your jaw and across your pretty face.

"C'mon baby.. Be a good girl and cum for Mommy.."

The way she speaks those words so hotly against your ear, her warm breath fanning over your skin and words dripping with want and arousal, it's what tips you over the edge.

You let out a loud, broken moan as you wrap your arms around her back, pulling her tightly against you.

You throw your head back as the words burst past your lips in a desperate shout, your mind barely coherent as everything around you goes static and you seize up around the older woman.

"Oh! Mommy, cumming!"

Agatha groans at the sight of you, how you squeeze and drip around her fingers that are buried all the way to the last knuckle inside of your pussy, the heaving of your chest and how your pretty features contort in pleasure, mind numb and lost under the onslaught of pleasure that she gave you.. That she's responsible for.

Pride swells in her chest as she guides you through it, whispering soft little praises into your skin as you tremble and slowly come down from your high. With a deep gasp for air your legs fall numbly from around her waist, and Agatha leans back slightly to look at you as she carefully pulls her hand from you.

You laugh breathily, heaving for air as a wide smile crosses your features. Agatha smiles down at you as you raise your hand, pushing your messy hair from your features.

"Holy shit.. You're- wow."

You breathe out, dropping your hand to look up at her. She purses her lips proudly.

"Mmm.. I could say the same thing about you."

The older woman winks down at you, hair messy and sticking out at odd angles. Her stunning blue eyes are pinned right on you, and you don't think you could ever get enough of her gaze lingering on you.

"I barely did anything!"

You laugh and Agatha shakes her head.

"You were perfect."

Your heart swells at her words, and Agatha raises her hand. You flush at how soaked her fingers are, your arousal dripping down her palm and to her wrist. She raises it to her mouth, holding your gaze as she licks you off of her hand, dragging her tongue from her wrist, up her palm and to the tip of her fingers. Your chest heaves at the sight.

"You taste absolutely amazing."

She smirks down at you, and you smile sheepishly, pushing yourself up onto your forearms.

"Well.. Is there anything I can do to say thank you, Mommy?"

You bat your eyelashes at her sweetly, and her gaze flickers to your soft mouth, her mind running so far ahead of her with everything she wants to do with you that she can't keep up.

[no-144444]

'then we can'- o.piastri

summary: breaking up sucks.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

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Waking up alone sucked, he’d learnt that in recent months. 

You were gone. He’d fucked it up.

He dialled his mom’s number as the sun set over London.

“Osc?” she yawned. “It’s 2am, are you alright?”

“Mum, I fucked it up,” he cried, his eyes clouding as his voice broke. “I don’t know what to do.”

She sighed. She’d heard from Hattie that you and Oscar had broken up, and while she was heartbroken that she’d lost the girl she thought would become her daughter-in-law, she understood the reasons by which you two broke up. Neither of you had any time anymore. You were a Prima Ballerina and the Royal Ballet in London. He was a Formula One driver all the way in Monaco. He couldn’t make time for you in his schedule, and neither could you, yet you always seemed to, which led to him feeling increasingly guilty every time you begged him to come to London to see you, and he had to refuse. So he broke up with you. The girl he’d loved since he was 7 years old back in Melbourne. The girl who came to every single one of his remote control car races, the girl who smiled the brightest when she knew he was in the audience for one of her rehearsals, the girl who loved him more than he’d ever thought possible, the girl who he’d loved more than he’d ever known he could. 

And it was his fault it was over. He’d sent the text, he’d dodged the calls, he’d blocked you, he’d pleaded with his family to block your contacts, going as far as to steal their phones to do it himself. It was all him. 

“Baby,” she sighed, getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen, making herself a tea. She knew it was going to be a long conversation. “What happened?”

“I saw her,” he whispered into the phone, tears streaming down his face as he somehow stopped himself from breaking down completely. “I’m in London. I saw her dance.” 

“Okay,” she nodded. “How was it?”

“It was beautiful,” he wiped his eyes. “She was beautiful.”

“I’m glad you got to see her,” she smiled sadly. “I know this is hard, Osc, but you have to let her go. That’s what you wanted.”

He closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “I don’t think it’s what I want anymore.”

Nicole took a deep breath. “Oscar, you can’t play with her like that. It’s been 3 months. If it’s been hard for you, imagine how she felt. The love of her life broke up with her.”

He nodded. “I know,” he spoke, his voice breaking. “I know. I just… I don’t know if any of this is worth it if I can’t have her.” 

“I don’t know if you can have her anymore,” she said, her voice comforting but stern. He had to understand that he did this to himself. He had to understand that he had to make amends here. “She’s going through the same thing, Osc, I know it’s hard. Heartbreak is awful. It makes you feel insane. You feel like you’re drowning, and she’s the only person that can save you, I understand.”

“I just want to talk to her again,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I just… I want to apologise and I want her to take me back.”

He cried for a few moments, his mom comforting him as he felt his entire world fall around him, and he could only think of you. He was drowning, and you were the only person who would save him, but he sent you away. 

“I just, I feel so alone, all the fucking time! I feel so empty all the time, because I know I don’t have her anymore. And Hattie and Eddie, and Mae, they all fucking hate me! They all hate me, and I get why! I’m not sure I don’t hate myself!” he sobbed. For the next hour, he cried to his mom about everything, how guilty he felt, how much love he had for you, how much he missed you, how incredible you were. Everything. When he finally called down, Nicole spoke again.   

“I’m going to come to the next race, alright?”

“Thanks mum,” he sniffled. 

“And the girls don’t hate you,” she told him. “They adore you because you’re their older brother. They’re here for you Oscar. We all are.” 

He nodded. “Thanks mum.”

“I love you, go get some sleep, yeah?” she smiled. 

“Yeah.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

His mom was in the paddock for Las Vegas, battling with her own jet lag, her 3 daughters, and a son who was not doing well. But, she had a trick up her sleeve. She had also brought Logan and Arthur, who would hopefully calm Oscar down, or at least let him forget about you for a while. 

“Mate, what’s up?” Lando asked, staring at his satiated teammate. “You look dead.”

“Nothing,” he brushed him off. “Just tired. Ready for the season to be over.” 

He nodded. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Alright man, well, if you want to you can talk to me,” he offered him a soft smile before getting up, not expecting an answer. 

Oscar smiled softly as he watched his mom and sisters pile into the meeting room, bright smiles on their faces. Quickly, the room was a flurry of hugs and ‘hi’s’, then turned into a nice family conversation. 

“How’s Y/n?” he couldn’t help but ask during a quiet part of their conversation. The air changed, grew thicker. 

“She’s alright,” Hattie smiled. “Dancing.”

“Oscar went to see her,” Nicole informed her daughters and watched as they went wide-eyed and nodded, understanding the weight of their brother's heartbreak. “He said she was beautiful.”

“Did you talk to her?” Mae asked, he shook his head. 

“I just went to see the show.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Eddie added. “It’s only been what, 3 months?”

“4,” he corrected. “And 12 days.”

Damn, it was bad.  

“You should try to let her go,” Eddie sighed. “She’s happy in London, she’s happy being a dancer. She’s happy. Is that not enough?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s really helpful,” he said, just above a whisper. 

“We’ll leave you to get ready for the race,” Nicole sighed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Be careful out there.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

The girls left the room and their faces dropped from the fake comforting smiles they had plastered on. 

“What the fuck is he going to do?” Hattie asked. 

“Look, I know it’s hard for him right now, be he’ll work through it-”

“No mum, Y/n’s here.”

“Shit.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He went through his steps before a race, stretching, reaction exercises, and listening to the voicenote you’d left him 4 months and 4 days ago. 

“Hey love, I just wanted to wish you good luck today. I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks, and I’ll be cheering you on with everyone here. I know you’re going to do well today, I can just feel it. I love you Osc, please be safe.”

Sometimes he wondered if he got hurt, you would call him. He wasn’t sure, and he was risking himself more than he already did, being an F1 driver, so he hoped he’d never find out. 

“Come on Oscar, let’s get to the grid!” Tom called after him as Oscar caught up. 

Two words, Las Vegas. Cold, dark, and unforgiving. The land of bad decisions. He was on the front row, finally qualifying in p5, but with his fifteen-place grid penalty, he knew the race was going to be gruesome. But all he had to do was drive. He was good at that, great at that. He liked being in the car nowadays, it was the only time he didn’t think about you. 

He bumped into someone on his way to the grid and, as usual, apologised without really thinking about it. He looked up for a split second and he saw you. Stunning, kind, real, you. In the flesh. He stopped in his tracks, ignoring the way his team shouted for him, and he set off running after you. People whipped by as he knocked into person after person, desperately trying to grab ahold of your sleeve, or call your name loud enough to catch your attention, but he could barely speak. Somehow someone always got in the way between you two, and he was always just a little bit too far back to tap you, so he sufficed for being dragged back to the grid and being held in his car until the lights went out. He just had to drive and get to the finish line first, he had to see you before you left. Easy when he was starting from p20. A fifteen-place grid penalty for new components to his car. He just had to race. 

The lights went out and what came after was 50 of a Piastri over-taking masterclass. Up to p13 in one corner, pitstop and fighting his way all the way up into p1. Oscar Piastri was a 3-time Gran Prix winner. He’d won Hungary, Baku, and Las Vegas. The King of Sin-City for a night, and yet all we wanted was to figure out where you were. He asked every driver, wondering if you were visiting a garage as a guest- no. He wandered into every motorhome, asking if you were a guest- no. He checked every single fan zone (even checking a few grandstands that also had paddock passes), nothing. With no luck, exhaustion, and the beginnings of convincing himself he was seeing things, he retired back to his driver’s room, his back aching, his head hurting, and his mind racing. Inside Nicole sat on the bed. 

“Hey mum,” he smiled tiredly. 

“Hey darling,” she smiled, taking his hand as he sat down. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m tired,” he admitted, yawning as he lay his head in his mother’s lap. There was a knock at the door and Oscar was much too tired to open his eyes, getting up and opening it was out of the question. 

“Come in,” Nicole called out. Then she gasped, and while it made Oscar’s heart rate go up, he didn’t open his eyes. 

“Y’alright?” he asked. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” she got up as Oscar shot up, coming face to face with you.

You looked so beautiful he wanted to cry. 

“Hi,” you smiled. 

“Hi,” he answered.

“You can lie back down if you want, I know you must be tired,” you urged him to sit down and he followed your instructions. “I just came in to say congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled awkwardly. “I came to see the show,” he admitted. You nodded, looking slightly shocked. 

“I-I had no idea,” you chuckled, speaking truthfully. “I didn’t think you’d ever come see me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. “You were incredible,” he pushed through the emotion piling in his throat. Was that really the bar that he’d set for the love of his life? You’d come to countless races, missed opportunities to see him, yet he couldn’t even make a small amount of time for you to come and see a 90 minute show of which you were the lead of? Was he really that pathetic?

“Thank you,” you said, sitting beside him. “You were incredible today.”

“Thank you.” 

“Your mum called me,” you explained. “She said you weren’t doing very well.” 

He took a deep breath. “She’s right.” 

“Me neither,” you admitted. “I mean, I act like I’m fine but the second I see something that reminds me of you I just…” 

“I’m so sorry,” he teared up. “I love you so much.” 

You looked at him, putting a hand on his cheek. “I love you too.”

“Can we give it another try?” he pleaded. 

“Can you promise me that I’ll feel like a priority?” 

He nodded, trying not to break down. 

“Then we can.”

3 words. 3 words of mercy. 3 words he loved more than hearing ‘I love you’ from your perfect lips.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[vinjinssunglasses]

 ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

♡ ┊ character : choi bongpal x fem!reader ♡ ┊ w/c : 2.0k ♡ ┊ cw: cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, ♡ ┊a/n I’m so tired rn but she consumed my thoughts it’s like 2am right nowww 😭😭 she is so damn fine though so

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“Good girl.” She murmurs with a smirk, fingers tugging at the waistband of your panties, pulling them off until they’re hanging off your foot with your pants. Bongpal can’t help but lick her lips at your wetness, unable to stop herself from prying her middle finger between your folds.

You’re so damn sensitive already, and just that simple touch sent a bolt through you. For crying out loud, how desperate is she for a taste of you? The two of you are in a public bathroom, and your ass is plastered on a toilet seat.

She reels in closer, and you caught a hint of her masculine, sage cologne mixed in with the strong scent of cigarettes intermingling with your own sweet perfume.

“What? Don’t like the setting?” Bongpal bites on your earlobe, her hand resting on your hips. “You can’t blame me. All night you’ve been teasing me with those stupid jeans that hug your hips all too well. It turns me on, knowing only I can eat this pussy all for myself.”

A deep chuckle comes from her lips, all while you whimper at her warm breath embracing your ear, her teasing finger making it harder to focus. When she realises you didn’t process a word she said, she delves a finger into your cunt, your walls squeezing onto her from the sudden movement.

“Focus on me.” She whispers with a hint of dominance, turning her gaze to where you’re looking: at the tantalizing sight of her finger disappearing inside of you, curving upwards. Slowly, she delves in deeper, your velvety walls letting her spread you open. Your legs tremble as you feel her suddenly brush against your sweet point, sending a soft whine to your lips. Bongpal brings her to finger to your entrance, your pussy reluctant to let her go, clenching around her nail, instantly missing her touch.

“Why’d you stop?” You shamefully murmur, grasping her hand and putting it back where you needed it most.

“So I can do this.” Bongpal leans her head towards your aching cunt, delicately spreading her tongue over your whole vulva. Next, she delves her tongue in between your folds, sucking gently. Your juices were so sweet to her tongue, only making her want more. But, this time, she must be careful. Anybody could walk in unprecedented, and it wouldn’t be a lovely situation to have someone other than her hearing your slutty whines. Although she could see the look in your eyes that scream “please, eat me out!”, so enticingly even though you’re embarrassed for her to be in between your legs.

Right now, she wants to lap up your core with her tongue, make you scream her name; yet is torn between the idea of someone hearing. But the desire to fuck you with her tongue takes over.

Before you know it she suddenly pulls your hips closer to her tongue, delving her face into your core. Bongpal teasingly only focuses on your most sensitive spot: your throbbing clit. Each lap of her tongue purposely and roughly grazes your clit, earning a loud, guttural moan from your throat. You instantly cover your mouth, eyes widening at the pleasure, unable to stop yourself from gasping and shaking. She’s enchanted by the way her tongue makes your pussy salivate all over her mouth, dripping down to her chin, that makes the inviting whimpers, moans and whines escape from your throat unwillingly. It makes her want to continue, even though it does so little to please her appetite.

Bongpal wants to hear you scream and squirt, your body trembling under her touch. And she’s getting close to her wish. Right now, you’re ashamed to admit that your getting so close from just the rapid movement of her tongue, your hands gripping on her hair, legs squeezing around her figure.

She smirks against your soaking wet folds, swirling her tongue around your clit purposely. She knows your clit is so damn sensitive, and she knows so well how it makes you feel so good. Each swirl makes the swelling in the depths of your stomach stronger, and your body relaxes as it nears its finish. Your breathes become ragged and brief, you squint your eyes in shame, pleasure washing over you in a huge tide with your nectar squirting all over her face in a gasp.

Too weak to cover your mouth anymore, you panted for breath, juices spilling onto the floor. A low chuckle emerges from her as she licks her lips, savouring the taste of you.

She kisses her way from your cunt to your stomach, then your chest, pulling up your bra to reveal your tits. She gently fondles them, showering them with pecks before moving to your panting lips, planting a soft kiss upon your lips. That wasn’t enough for you. Tangling your fingers through her hair at the back of her hand, you pulled her in once more, eagerly intertwining hers with yours. They crashed together with such urgency that left no room for hesitation, breathes ragged in the heated air between you. Bongpal pulled away, her teeth bitting upon your lips to remind you who’s in charge.

“You’re so sexy.” Bongpal muttered before entering her finger inside of you once more. This time, she entered her ring finger, spreading you wider than before. A gentle exhale hovered in the air as she pushed her fingers deeper inside of you.

“I want to see you cum like that again. Just one more time, And I promise I’ll be satisfied..” She trailed off, her fingers moving deeper within your core. Bongpal’s fingers stretched within you in a scissor shape; a sudden moan slipping out. Her eyes were fixated to your salivating cunt, her tongue practically begging for another taste. But that would have to wait until you got home, then she could really fuck the thoughts out of you.

Her fingers pace started to increase, your hand gripping onto your own thigh, making your hips buck into her thrusts. Bongpal started to hit against your g-spot, making you become uncontrollably louder. The squelching of your lewd pussy and your sweet whimpers echoed throughout the room, the ruthlessness of her fingers making your g-spot throb with pleasure.

“Not so fast, I..!” You were barely able to get a word in between sobs, your legs flailing with in the air as objects fell to the ground. You squirmed under her touch, body vibrating and quivering with a newfound bliss. At this point you didn’t notice your second orgasm arriving so soon, your mind could barely comprehend the pace she was moving at. Bongpal’s strong arms pinned your legs spread as she continued, watching as a fountain emerged from between your legs, landing over her clothes, dripping down her fingers.

Finally, you had a chance to catch your breath; you felt so deprived of air. You wearily turned your gaze up to the perpetrator of such tiredness, who only smirked and slurped up your juices from her fingers, watching keenly at your dishevelment. Your thighs were painted with your own beautiful filth, and you were left with your clothes so messily discarded around you which left a strangely appealing, finishing touch.

[tikosblogg]

Night In

Summary: You and your best friend Noah have a criminal minds marathon night, but he seems to be having a hard time focusing.

Warning: smut. Pure filth. Dom!Noah, fingering. Swearing.

A/N: best friend Noah has me in a fucking choke hold. SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!!🤪 it’s literally 2AM and this scenario popped into my head. I had to get it out before I went to sleep, because I definitely would have forgotten it by the time I woke up. Please enjoy. Let me know what you think 😉❤️

The sound of the water cascading down the tiled walls enveloped the bathroom like a warm hug, steam rising to blur the edges of the world outside the small sanctuary. I sighed contentedly, enjoying the solitude after a hectic day of work. The rhythm of the water was soothing, and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift.

“Hey, Noah!” I called out, leaning my head back into the cascading water. “Can you come in here for a sec?” I heard his footsteps approach, the familiar creak of the bathroom door creaking open, punctuating the hush of the steam-filled room. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice smooth as it always was.

“Are you down for a Criminal Minds marathon tonight?” I asked, grinning to myself. It had quickly become a ritual of ours, binging on crime dramas and rolling our eyes at the absurdities of the plotlines while eating popcorn and drinking a few. “Yeah I’m down,” his voice had a slight edge to it, like he was only half-listening. I peeked through the steamed up glass, briefly catching a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking especially relaxed in his faded gray t-shirt.

“Great! I can’t wait to see The way you squirm at the creepy parts. It’s priceless,” I teased, letting out a laugh. Noah chuckled, but there was something else behind that laugh—a lingering silence that felt heavy in the air. I glanced over, curiosity piqued, and noticed he was staring, his gaze fixed on the glass shower walls where steam mingled with droplets of water.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked, playfully splashing water in his direction. He blinked, suddenly like a deer caught in headlights, the blush creeping up to his cheeks evident even from where I stood. “ yeah, just… can we talk when you get out? I’m literally getting hard watching you shower right now.” he admitted, bluntly. Scratching his head, his eyes darting away, though they lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary.

The realization of what he’d said hung between us, thick and charged. My heart raced, a cocktail of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through me. “Oh,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, the steam turning us both a little breathless.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard not to,” he laughed. “You know, the fog and you look a little too good.” He smirked.

“Thanks?” I said, unsure of how to respond, a nervous laugh escaping me. He turned away, but not before I caught the evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans. The tension shifted, electrifying the air around us, and I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement there too, blurring the lines we’d always kept between us.

“Okay, I’ll be quick,” I assured him, suddenly hyper-aware of my own body and the droplets that clung to my skin. It felt like we had crossed an invisible threshold, yet neither of us was ready to acknowledge it just yet.

“Take your time,” he said teasingly, as he turned to walk out, pausing at the door. “But unless you want to be the one who has to explain why I’m walking around with a boner, I’d suggest you hurry.”

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but laugh, a blend of nerves and something else bubbling beneath the surface. After rinsing away the day's fatigue, I stepped out, the warmth of steam swirling around me as I wrapped a towel snugly around myself. I glanced around, ensuring I was alone, a smile creeping onto my face at the thought of having the house to myself with Noah.

I rummaged through the pile of clean clothes thrown haphazardly on the counter and pulled out one of Noah's oversized t-shirts. It fell delightfully to my mid-thigh, the fabric soft and comforting against my damp skin. As I slid on a pair of underwear, I took a moment to admire my reflection in the mirror, feeling a sense of warmth at how casually sexy the ensemble was.

When I emerged from the bathroom, a wave of confidence washed over me. I found Noah lounging on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating his features as he flipped through the streaming options, searching for our show. His eyes flickered to me, and for a brief second, he froze, his brows raised in surprise before a smirk broke across his face.

“Nice shirt,” he teased, his gaze lingering on me, undeniably captivated.

I smirked back, walking over to where he sat. I could feel the weight of his attention on me as I settled down beside him, nestling into the cushions of the couch. The familiar opening credits of Criminal Minds began to play, and I grabbed the remote, easing into the comfort of the moment.

Noah’s laugh was warm, drowning out the eerie music of the show, and my heart soared as he pulled me closer, wrapping an arm around me. As the episode unfolded, I couldn’t shake the sensation of being completely at ease, my worries melting away like snow under the spring sun.

An hour passed, and I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere as I found myself feeling sleepy. I shifted slightly, laying my head on Noah’s lap. His fingers instinctively began to run through my hair, a gentle and rhythmic massage that made me sigh contentedly.

The show continued in the background, but my focus blurred with every gentle stroke of his hand. It was surreal how strangely intimate we were being. We’ve always been pretty affectionate with each other, but this felt different. His touch sent a tingle down my spine, every movement igniting a sense of want that hung between us, unspoken yet palpable.

Noah looked down at me, his expression softening. “You know, you look really cute in my shirt,” he murmured, a hint of mischief dancing in his voice.

I smiled, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I should wear it more then,” I teased, running my fingers along the hem of the fabric as if weighing the option.

His laughter rumbled through his chest, and I could see the way his eyes sparkled. “Good. It looks better on you anyways.”

I chuckled softly, shifting to get more comfortable, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the television casting playful shadows across the walls. The warmth of Noah's body provided comfort as I lay on the couch, my head resting on his lap while we both immersed ourselves in the latest episode of our favorite show. The world outside felt miles away, and for this moment, everything else faded into the background.

As his fingers tangled gently in my hair, an intimate motion that sent pleasant shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, relishing the way his fingers moved. His fingers suddenly began tracing a path from my hair down my side. The sensation was feather-light, almost teasing, until they reached my hip. I held my breath as his fingers played with the edge of my underwear, a trail of heat left in their wake.

My heart raced at his touch. I couldn't help but subtly squeeze my thighs together, a simple reaction, but one that betrayed the flutter in my stomach. I felt the tension between us crackle like static electricity in the air.

"Y/n" his voice a soft whisper, breaking the spell for a moment. My name rolled off his tongue like honey, sweet and addictive. I rolled onto my back, gazing up at him, my head nestled comfortably against his thighs, practically blinded by the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He stole a glance at my bare thighs, a fleeting moment that made me feel exposed yet thrillingly alive. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow slightly furrowing as if he was clueless at what he was doing.

I looked away, heat pooling in my cheeks blushing, perhaps, in both embarrassment and excitement. How could he be so nonchalant about this? His hand found its way up my stomach, slowly inching beneath my shirt, and I stifled a gasp, the softness of his touch causing the world around us to blur.

"Nothing," I murmured, though my voice was barely a whisper, betraying the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside me.

"Come on," he coaxed, his fingertips dancing just below the hem of my shirt. "What is it?"

A soft whine slipped from my lips without my permission, the weight of his teasing hanging heavily in the air between us. "You’re teasing me," I whimpered, frustration mingled with desire.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the quiet room, both comforting and maddening. "I’m not teasing...." The playful glint in his eye, combined with the authoritative way he pressed his finger over the front of my underwear, sent sparks through my core.

“What if I like it?” I blurted, the honesty spilling out before I could reel it back in.

His expression shifted, surprise giving way to something deeper as he leaned down closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words, and for the first time, I sensed that this moment was filled with endless possibilities .

With his finger still teasing me, he smirked, his warm breath ghosting over my face.“Then I won’t stop.”

Everything around us faded into silence, the television now just a distant hum.

His hand slid under my head, lifting it up slightly, as he leaned down capturing my lips into a heated kiss and it felt as if time slowed. The evening sunset filtered through the curtains, casting a soft orange glow over the living room. I was nestled comfortably on the couch, my head resting gently on Noah's lap. The hum of the world outside felt distant, as if time had slowed just for us. I could hear the steady beat of his heart, echoing the warmth that enveloped me.

His lips were warm and inviting, enveloping mine as if they were made for each other. I surrendered completely, allowing his tongue to glide against mine. It was an intoxicating rhythm that drew me deeper into the moment. I could barely catch my breath as his fingers swept under the hem of my panties, teasingly slow, until they found their way to my core.

I gasped against his mouth, breathless and desperate. My thighs instinctively fell open, making room for his hand, craving more. I whimpered his name, a plea wrapped in desire.

“What is it baby?” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and husky, igniting a spark of anticipation within me.

The teasing question sent my heart racing. I could sense the care behind his touch, but the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. In that instant, I wanted to drown in him, to abandon all reservations. I pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. He looked at me, a mixture of curiosity and longing in his eyes.

“I just... I want you,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. It felt liberating to admit it, to articulate the pounding desire that coursed through my veins.

He smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes, and his fingers continued their gentle exploration, igniting a fire that smoldered just beneath the surface. “You have me,” he assured me, his voice rich with promise.

With newfound confidence, I leaned into him, pressing my lips back to his, craving the connection that was building between us. His fingers continued their teasing, each touch sending ripples of pleasure spiraling through me, coaxing out soft gasps that mingled with our kisses.

His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting me. I knew we were stepping over an invisible threshold, reaching for something deeper, but I was ready for it. As his fingers stroked through my soaked folds, he finally sank two of them into me. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out, as I softly ground my hips against them.

His eyes left my face, focusing on his fingers now coated in my arousal, slowly disappearing over and over into me. His other hand left the back of my head, pulling my shirt up above my breasts letting them free. My nipples instantly hardened as the cool air hit them. Noah’s eyes raked up my body, until they landed on my heaving chest.

His big tattooed hand, groped my tits squeezing them , and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I groaned, slowly losing my mind. “You’re so fucking beautiful baby….your pussy is so fucking wet.” As soon as those words left his mouth, his fingers sped up. He crooked them up, hitting that spongy spot, as more pleasure bursts through me.

I gasped and whined, as his palm hit my sensitive clit over and over. “Noah please.” I begged, sounding breathless. “Please what baby? What do you need?” He asked, his voice soft but mocking. “I- I need to cum.” I stammered, as my end was nearing. His bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, as his bit hard before speaking.

“Then cum y/n, cum on my fingers.” He groaned, trying so hard not to lose control. Without another word, I moaned out my hips stuttering against his fingers, as they fucked me through my orgasm. He removed his fingers, and pulled me upright, his eyes meeting mine with such an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that resonated deep within my throbbing core. I complied, eager yet shy, straddling his hips as I felt the heat radiating from his body. My face instinctively buried into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of him—a mix of musk and something distinctly Noah—wrapped around me like a warm blanket, grounding and intoxicating at once.

His large hands gripped my hips firmly, guiding my movements as I instinctively began to grind against him. I could feel his hard dick pressing against me, igniting a deep fire within. He was huge. I whined softly, the sound muffled as I nuzzled deeper into his skin, desperate for more of this moment, more of him.

“Noah…” I breathed, feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. He pulled my head back gently, his large hand wrapping around my throat in a possessive grip that both thrilled and terrified me. His eyes bore into mine, dark with desire and something deeper I couldn't quite place.

“Fucking look at me,” he said, his voice almost a growl, and full of command. His hips softly bucked up against mine, the material of his sweat shorts causing a delicious friction against my sensitive core. I met his gaze, my heart racing, captivated by the raw intensity of the moment.

And then, without warning, he closed the distance, capturing my lips in another heated kiss. It was a collision of want and urgency, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

His hips thrust upward again, drawing me closer, forcing my core against his in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I moaned into his mouth, lost in the rhythmic grind of our bodies, the world outside completely forgotten. All that existed was him, me, and this intoxicating connection that burned brightly between us.

He pulled away, grabbing the hem of my shirt, and pulling it off swiftly. His eyes landed on my tits. His face dropped to my chest, teasing both of my nipples with his lips. My hands flew to the back of his head, gripping his short hair tightly.

He pulled back, wasting no time releasing his hard dick from his shorts with a soft sigh of relief. I almost drooled at the sight. He was definitely huge, and so so beautiful. The tip was bright red, already leaking. He must’ve seen the slight hesitation in my eyes, as his hand cupped my cheek, bringing my eyes up to his.

“You’re gonna take it right baby? And you’re gonna ride me, until I cum in that pretty little pussy right?” He groaned, his gazing burning into mine. The butterflies in my stomach were going wild with this new dominant side coming out of him. I nodded my head quickly, practically begging for it.

He shook his head at my lack of words. His hand now cupping my jaw, pulled me into him closer. “Say it.” He growled. Not moving until I spoke. I whined, my hips grinding harder against him. “Yes sir.” He smirked at my reply, pecking my lips softly. “Good fucking girl.”

He gripped my hips, pulling me up to hover over his dick. I gasped, as soon as the tip entered my core. It already felt amazing. He slowly pulled my hips down, further and further until he was completely bottomed out inside of me. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He moaned, pausing to let me adjust.

Before I knew it, his hips thrusted up, making me see stars. “Ohhh fuck Noah.” I whimpered, gripping his shoulders tight. He thrusted up again, his hips going at a steady fast pace as I bounced on his lap. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.” He moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed my hands, pulling them down, and forcing them back and crossing them behind me, as he held them together with one hand, he guided my hips with the other. My chest fell against his, as I gasped and moaned into his neck. His thrusts were hard, and fast. Almost knocking the breath from my lungs.

The hand holding my wrists tightened, as he bit down on my shoulder. “Noah fuck, please I’m gonna cum.” I groaned, as his hips sped up even faster. “Do it baby, please. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He panted, into my neck. That was all it took, my pussy instantly tightening around him, as I came for a second time.

I pulled my face from his neck, attacking his lips in a feral kiss. His thrusts became sloppy, as he finally came. His grip on my wrist tightened, the pain of it not even registering as I was too lost in the pleasure. He continued thrusting slowly as he fucked himself through it. His lips never leaving mine.

After a few short moments, he released me. Bringing my wrists to his lips kissing them gently. “I’m so sorry if I was too rough.” He whispered, against my skin before finally looking into my eyes. I smiled sweetly, cupping his cheeks. “I loved every fucking second of it.” He grinned, pressing his lips to mine, in a sweet kiss. “Me too.”

[drifting-away-in-space]

I would like to say this was written at 2am, and I couldn’t sleep so my thoughts were all over the place. I tried to clean it up so it made sense, but this very much gives off delulu theories™️ energy. It’s also honestly probably a bit of the Stretch, but it really got the gears in my brain turning.

I was rewatching some of clone wars today, and I have come to a disturbing realization.

Echo’s “death” and tech’s “death” (is he alive? God, I hope so.) scenes are eerily similar.

When Echo is essentially blown up, he’s trying to save their only means of escape from being destroyed. He knows he’s putting himself in danger, but he’s willing to risk it to help get everyone out of there.

When the shuttle and echo are destroyed. Fives screams his name as he can do nothing but look on in horror as his brother is killed.

We all know Echo ends up being alive, but Fives doesn’t live long enough to find this out.

Tech makes a decision to fire a bolt at the connecting hinge for the rail cars(?). With in this decision, he knows there’s no time to get him to safety, and that he must sacrifice himself to save the others. When tech executes plan 99 Omega has a very similar reaction. She screams his name and watches helplessly as her brother falls to his death. Flash forward to now. A good chunk of the fandom believes Tech is still alive. It doesn’t help with the fact that in an interview Michelle says “Omega was set up with the possibility of a very large future (in the Star wars galaxy), and then it changed from there.” I’ll admit myself that’s a very ambiguous statement, and can mean many different things, but after noticing the similarities it doesn’t bring me much comfort. Is it a possibility we get Tech back but lose Omega in the process? Kinda like we got Echo back, but lost Fives.

Logically, I feel like they wouldn’t kill Omega off, but it makes me wonder if Omega possibly sees herself as the reason why nothing is ever safe from the empire. So, she ends maybe falling off the radar and keeping a low profile. By herself or with the batch, I haven’t really thought about it.

But even I know this is honestly a stretch that the similarities between the scenes are probably just coincidence, but it really gets me wondering what Omega’s fate is gonna be especially with the comments made by Michelle. Like I’m curious what others think of this! Please let me know!

[ask-decepticon-nightglitch]

Idia Shroud x Reader

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Artist: unknown

Genre: fluff

I haven't gotten to Idia's book yet so things might be incorrect

I opened my eyes to see the pale room I was given ever since I was kidnapped by those strange soldiers from S.T.Y.X.

I put on my white uniform that was given to me on the same day.

It was only 2am. I shouldn't be out of bed, but I could not sleep. I walked into the hallway, seeing the other bedrooms that hold other research subjects like myself.

There was a blue glow coming from a different hallway. This hallway only had one room at the end of it. Must be Idia's room.

I wandered into the main area, where there was a long table and a screen. I remembered seeing that poorly done "welcome to S.T.Y.X.!" video that Idia used to make things less terrifying after the sudden kidnapping.

I noticed the place wasn't as guarded as I thought it would be. Did the guards all have a bed time like the research subjects?

There was another hallway adjacent to the hallway that held Idia's room. This hallway had a few rooms, but one thing caught my eye.

Ortho.

Ortho was turned off, it almost looked like he was in some kind of stasis pod.

"He can't hear or see me if he's powered off, right...?"

I continue to wander the halls. I did end up checking out the blue glow coming from the hall from Ortho's room.

It was Idia's room.

And Idia was awake.

But it looked like Idia did not really care that I was out of my room.

"Y/n?" He softly called out to me.

"Er- y-yes?" I answer.

"Why are you out of your room?"

"I'm sorry, I'll go back to bed."

Idia put his tablet down. He sat up from his bed, hair messy, looking very tired.

"We are friends, right?" He asked.

The question caught me off guard.

"Yes, of course we are. We've known each other since elementary school."

Idia seemed nervous.

"Can you come in?" He asked.

I nodded slightly and stepped into his room, sitting on his bed. His room was dark except for the blue glow of his monitors.

"Are you okay?" I asked, noticing my friend was crying.

"I'm fine, I just don't want you to hate me." The words shook like a leaf.

"Aww, Idia, sweetie... I honestly think doing research on the overblot students is smart, especially since overblotting is rare. But I do have to admit that kidnapping was a bit excessive. I still have bruises from the soldiers grabbing me."

Idia was astonished at my reply.

"S-Seriously? You're still my friend, then?" He asked.

"Forever!"

Idia's cheeks went pink. He had a sharp toothed grin.

"Whee hee hee!"

"Well, it was very nice talking to you. I think I'll head to bed now." I got up.

"T-That is okay. Good night, Y/n."

~

The next night, I woke up at 1am. I got up, got dressed and headed to that area with the long table and screen. I was surprised to see Idia sitting at the table, doing work on his tablet. It was dark in the room, but just light enough to see.

"Oh, it's just you. You scared me!" I laughed gently.

Idia smiled at me.

"Did you know your heartbeat increases every time you're around me?"

"Oh."

"And your body temperature levels sky rocket if I hold your hand." He added.

"Oh."

"Can you tell me why?"

"Umm..." does he know? Does he know that I've had a crush on him ever since middle school?

Idia smirked. I can tell he was back to his dominant side instead of the quiet side.

Idia got up, getting very close to me. He was inches from my face. I leaned back against the table.

"I-Idia?"

"I have liked you for a very long time." He whispered. His voice was smooth and relaxing.

I looked at his blue lips, feeling drawn to kiss him. To touch him. To have him as my own.

Idia's hair was very pink. His eyes were filled with a certain hunger.

I noticed Idia was too shy to make a bold move, so I pressed my lips to his.

Even the smallest kiss had Idia let out a small moan. I could tell he's never done this with anyone.

Idia's hair was bright pink.

I leaned him back against the table, kissing him deeply.

Idia's back touched the table, he surrendered to me.

"Y/n... I-I..."

"Heheh... well um. We should probably get to bed now. Your bags are only getting worse." I kiss his cheek.

As I was about to walk off, my hand was grabbed.

"W-Wait. Can you...Can we cuddle? In my room?" Idia looked away as he asked this.

"Oh-! Aww, of course!"

We both got into his room. He closed the door behind me, holding me close once we were in bed. I was smaller compared to him and fit perfectly in his grasp.

We both ended up falling asleep in each other's arms.

-

853 words

[stateswscarlet]

I just read the post about the anon giving advice about like getting a hobby and a life outside of the law and not being obsessed and stuff and it truly struck some realisation within me.

I spend hours, I mean HOURS daily trying to perfect my manifestation game. Like I’m OBSESSED I’m realising. I mean I kind of like it bc it’s literally one of my only “hobbies”. Like literally I’ve spent like 2hrs minimum perfecting my game, it’s almost 2am now and since 12am I’ve been focusing on my what I’m doing wrong and even journaled for like 30mins+. I’m admitting that I literally have no other life. Like I’m so lost and the law is helping me find the way (atleast that’s what i think).

I’m so obsessed and this leads me to feeling so lost and sad and overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost myself so badly that I even cry and have a mental breakdown, but then I try to perfect my game and get back on track. Like this is genuinely my entire life rn bc I’m so unhappy with where I am at with my life in the 3D. And I guess I feel that my imagination is the only thing that I have control over in my life and everything else/3D is just happening to me with circumstances I don’t like. I think that’s why I am so focused on perfecting my manifestation game so that I can feel like I have control over my life and not someone else leading it for me or living in fear of someone else. Wow this really made me realise how much I hate my 3D and how I ‘escape’ to my imagination trying to perfect it, but again that is exactly how we manifest anything… we need to return to imagination regardless of the 3D so idk. All I am realising rn is that I AM OBSESSED with the law that I spent hours HOURS daily thinking about it and worrying about my state and all.

I thought I was finally getting somewhere with the law but I think I need to realise that I’m obsessing over it and ruining my mental health. But I don’t think I can stop bc I don’t want to and I want things to change (not necessarily the 3D, but within imagination). I’m so unsure with where I’m at in my life rn 😪

I don’t think this is really a question but just wanted to share how I was feeling :((

tbh i really really recommend you give yourself a much needed break away from all of this. delete tumblr, twitter, even from source material and give your mind a rest and space to actually think about other things. I feel like you’re too deep into overconsumption and its not even that you don’t know how to apply, bc I know you do, but its more so that you’re kind of relying on your manifestation hence why you’re so obsessed with it. I understand having unfavorable circumstances but see it this way: if you didn’t know about the law how would you be improving your life? How would your 3D be a little more manageable? It doesn’t need to be perfect obviously but you do need to actually live your life and not be escaping to the law to find comfort since you probably won’t be doing that if you had your ideal 3D (thats also where you MAY be going wrong).

give yourself a break for at least a month and see how you feel, then you can slowly incorporate shifting to your ideal state/fulfilling yourself because it feels good.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it. || myg

no. 8: trying to forget about it

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: kanako is an established idol with a growing career and a secret relationship with a producer from her label, haneul. when she’s asked to work with yoongi and rm to create a track for her, she gains unexpected feelings for a certain upcoming rapper. with her increasing fame, her controlling boyfriend, a set of six boys who seem to have grown an attachment to her, and a new boy who’d give her the world, how will she figure out a way to balance it all?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 3.5k

genre: ANGST, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn, lots of pining, slight fluff

chapter warnings: toxic relationship (not w/myg), mentions of mental health

inspo song: silver springs (live at warner brothers studip) by fleetwood mac

"I know i could have loved you, but you would not let me."

MARCH 3RD, 2012, 11:59PM

I’ve still managed to keep myself awake even though everyone started snoring the minute their heads hit the pillow. Which was 30 minutes ago. I knew they had to start recording early tomorrow and working on their debut album, but it didn’t help that my sleep schedule had messed up due to my lack of responsibilities. Which, resulted in me doom-thinking until 2am most nights. Yes, I’ve named it doom-thinking because of the absence of my phone. It surprises me too, how I’ve managed without it. But it’s almost peaceful, if it wasn’t for my negative ideas that storm my headspace to make up for it. 

“Go to sleep.” I hear Yoongi say, groggily. I know he doesn’t like his sleep to be interrupted and me shifting around under the comforters probably doesn’t help. 

“I…can’t.” I admit. 

I hear his body turn over, and I lean towards the edge of the bed, resting my cheek on the border of the mattress. I try to adjust my eyes to see his face and can make up some features but it’s mostly his eyes. They just sparkle even in the darkness, what can I say? Like stars.

I make out the sound of his deep breath, which I presume to be a sigh. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He fixes his gaze to look into mine. 

“Just…him.” I mutter. He’s not the ideal person to be confiding in about Haneul, but I know he’s my friend before anything else.

“I see.” 

“Do you want to meet me outside…on the balcony?” I whisper. 

I see him nod and I quietly move from the bed, Yoongi following suit. I unlock the door and open it, unable to stop the loud creak it makes which causes a wince from me. We both rush out and I look back to see Yoongi grabbing a blanket in a brisk move, being the one to close the balcony door. We both take a breath of relief, hoping no one heard. 

He takes my hand and brings me down to the tile ground near the railing. We both sit next to each other in front of the quiet road as he unfolds the thick blanket and drapes it over our connected shoulders. He tugs at the end of my side of the blanket, making sure I’m fully covered. 

“That okay?” He asks and I reply with a soft bob of the head. 

He confidently takes my hand again, this time only placing his palm on the top of my hand. 

“What about him?” He breaks the ice.

I hum, looking to the stars. “Just how painful it all is.” 

He squeezes my hand and follows my gaze to the stars as well. 

The quiet outside is nice and unheard of lately. Usually it’s blocked by all the fans and paparazzi that stand outside at 5am, no later, no earlier. 

“I just,” I say, knowing there’s tears to come. “It seems like I can’t catch a break. Like I'm always wondering when the next bad thing will happen.” Uh-oh, the wall is crashing down. 

“I understand that.” He whispers. 

There’s now tears running down my face, and I let myself look at him, look at me. Vulnerability and all. His hand trails to underneath my chin and wipes the clear liquid that’s pooling around it. He keeps his hand there for a while, moving to my cheek. 

“Yoongi, I have something to admit.” I choke. Slow down, Kanako, what’re you doing? 

Don’t say it, don’t say it. This is enough for now. If you cross that line there’s no going back. He’ll leave you and convince the others to, too. You’ll be lonely all over again. 

I jolt my head away from him and his hand, looking down and blinking the tears away. I shrug the blanket off my shoulder and hold the tile floor to balance myself as I get up. To avoid this, whatever this is. Whatever we are. Running away. 

“Kanako, don’t do that.” He said as I was about to turn on my heels. 

I look back to him, the blanket falling from his body as he reaches for me. 

“I can’t do this. I don’t want to-”

“Don’t want to what? Tell me. Please.” He pleads. He leans his body forward, hand still floating in the air and waiting. I clench my hand in a fist before relaxing it, but I still don’t accept his hand. I stand there, looking away from him. Don’t make me say it. Please. 

“Kanako..” He whispers and gets up from his position, closening our bodies. His hands travel to my forearms and he’s looking at me so intently. That same glimmer, sparkle in his eyes that I’ve gotten to know so well. His fingers are long and slender, and they fit around me perfectly. Like a glove. We’re almost eye level but he’s still a few inches taller than me. It’s all too perfect, all too destined. Like this was always meant to be. His heart near mine, our minds connected with the flick of sparks above us. He has the key to me, but I don’t remember giving it to him. 

I have his full attention which is something I’ve never experienced before. I wish he’d stop being so flawless. He mirrors my worried look but he pulls it off much better, easier. He’s holding me like water in his hands. But even with the cracks between his fingers, still no drops have yet to fall. He’s so careful with me. How is it that I feel like I’ve known him my whole life?

I’m not a bomb to him, I’m not ticking with only seconds left. He makes me feel like we have forever. More tears, more silent sobs. I tuck my head in his shoulder and he pulls me in. His long arms are wrapped around my fragile body. It’s like I’m scattered with shards of glass but he’s still willing to get cut. Like I’m ridden with poison but he’ll still drink me in. This is so hard but he makes it so much easier. Like her, like my mother. Like home. 

“Let me love you. Let all of us love you.” He says, and I know it’s only platonically. But his plea sounds like he needs a door to open for it to become romantic with him. Like he has that key in his back pocket but he needs permission to open it. He won’t barge in. Not like Haneul. He won’t break my door down, shatter my windows, set me on fire. He’ll wait outside patiently with a flower in his hand and words of comfort. He’ll wait. For me?

I reply with more crying, soaking his shoulder. He rocks me slightly side by side. Small shh, shh’s, escape his mouth. He hums in my ear and comforts me in this moment, under the stars. Under the universe. Reaching a hand out before crossing the road with me, packing my lunch for me, waiting for me as I tie my shoes. That’s what he exudes. 

“Let’s go inside and let me hold you, ‘kay? Nothing tied to it, just me helping you sleep.” He reassures me, and for once I look up to him and wipe my tears, nodding. He dips to grab the blanket before holding my waist and opening the door. 

I spot a dim light being on in the corner of the room and see Jungkook sitting patiently on his bed. He looks to me and Yoongi, “Can I join you guys?” He murmurs sleepily, rubbing his eyes. I feel Yoongi’s grip loosen and he gestures to the small bed that’s supposedly going to fit the three of us. 

Yoongi is the first to slide in, me going next, and Jungkook completing the sandwich. Jungkook is almost like a child the way he needs my affection. But I don’t mind it, it’s comforting. Like I said, I like that they need me. Want me, platonically for the most part. Plus it makes sleeping with Yoongi easier if I feel like we’re just friends snuggling together, nothing more. He did say that initially, but I know it wasn’t entirely true. I couldn’t help the way I watched him close eyes, having the biggest urge to reach my hand into his hair. Friend’s do that, but not the way I wanted to. 

I can imagine it now, feeling the black strands between my fingers like silk. Traveling it down to his eyes and circling them slowly, feeling ease that I know what it’s like to touch him. To feel his skin beneath my fingers. I scoot my head closer to him, Jungkook’s hold on me tightening. Me and Yoongi aren’t holding each other at all, but I feel like we are, with how close we’ve become. I press my forehead against his and sleep at last, putting my thoughts at ease. Giving myself a break for once. 

MARCH 4TH, 2012, 9:22AM

I wake gently to the lack of Jungkook’s embrace and Yoongi’s breath. The dorm is empty and looks like it’s been rummaged through with the way clothes are scattered all around the floor. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and stretch, before going to the bathroom and brushing my teeth with the spare they have for me. It’s ridiculous, I know, considering my dorm is only across from theirs, but that’s just how thoughtful they are. Or at least Namjoon, the one who got me the toothbrush anyway. I splash some water on my face and pat it down, taking a slow breath as I walk about the dorm. 

Although today, I’m not sure I want to be stuck with my thoughts, all alone. So I throw on another set of whoever’s clothes I see in the closet and slide on my shoes, leaving to go watch the boys as they practice. 

I walk down the halls down to the elevator, humming to myself as It sends me to the bottom. BigHit wasn’t overflowing with money, but they spent it on smart things. Like a working elevator, to avoid having to walk down many stairs. But with how much they want us to diet and exercise, you’d think they’d ban us from taking the elevator. 

The doors part open and I see a group of staff members who give me a warm smile. I respond with one back, feeling a joyous sensation in my heart. It’s nice having it be such a safe space for me here now, and I’m eternally grateful for Bang-PD for doing that. I know other companies would’ve kicked me out for this scandal. But not Bang, he has this unbelievable faith in his idol’s that I’m not sure anyone outside of here could understand.  

I approach the doors of the practice room, peering inside the small window. I see the boys all dancing in unison to what I come to know later as their debut song. It’s a little silly seeing them so focused and driven, bodies sweating and breathing fastening. But I feel proud when I observe them. Maybe I won’t renew my contract. If I stay, they’ll only be tied to my scandal. We’ll have to sit apart during award shows, not hang out in public. Just because of me and what I did. 

I’ll think about that more later. 

Once I see them settle down I open the doors, seeing a beaming Jungkook stand to wrap me in an embrace. 

“Kanako, why are you here?” He exclaims like there’s something wrong. 

We pull apart and I scrunch my eyebrows, “Because I missed you all?”

“Look at her! She was just cuddling up with Yoongi and Jungkook but she still misses us!” Hoseok dramatically falls to the floor with his hand on his head like a damsel in distress. I chuckle, “Okay, okay. I was just lonely. It’s either watch TV or watch you guys.” I gush. 

Like every time, I look for Yoongi but sense his absence. “Where’s Yoongi?” I ask while I dart my eyes around the room. 

“Oh, he’s in the studio. Says he got a surge of inspiration. Wonder what that’s about…” Jimin teases. “You should go visit him, I’m sure he’d like your company.” He adds. 

“Yeah I think he’d like more than that.” Namjoon shakes his head while receiving a shove from Seokjin. Jungkook pouts at me, “Don’t leave yet Kanako, we want to show you our dance.” 

I tilt my head, “Jungkook, I've seen you guys dance plenty of times before. Plus, it’ll be quick. I just want to say hi, okay?” I caress his arm. He slouches and nods in defeat, returning to be sat with the rest of the boys. I give them one last wave, “I’ll be back in a moment!” I say and proceed to walk down the hall, to the right, where the studio is. The studio where I met him. 

It’s also the hallway I’ve avoided these past two weeks. But for Yoongi, I persevere. Looking away from where Haneul had me, like it’s a horrible car crash that I can look away from. I keep my head down like a scolded puppy, and I know I must look weird if anyone were to see me right now. But I try to not get embarrassed from how far I’m willing to go to contain my sanity. 

I reach my hand to give it a couple knocks, hearing Yoongi. 

“Leave me alone, Namjoon.” 

“Uh, it’s Kanako.”

The door swings open, and he stands there with messy hair and his pj’s. 

“Oh, sorry. Namjoon has been trying to get me to practice but-”

“You’ve been working on a song?” I ask, looking over his shoulder to see an opened laptop and scattered notepad paper. He scratches the back of his neck, “Uh- trying to, at least.” He mumbles. 

I walk towards the paper, picking one up before he snatches it from my hand quickly. He shuffles them all together and taps them on the table in place. “It’s not finished, and it’s kind of dumb.” I place my hand over his, “I’m sure it isn't. Can I read, please?” 

He lets me win this time, handing over one piece of paper. “This idea just popped in my head, it-it’s nothing. It probably won’t make it to this album but…” He says quietly. I read the top of the paper that says, in bold letters, Just One Day. 

There’s only a few lines, but I read it attentively. 

If only I had just one day

I want to peacefully fall asleep intoxicated with your sweet scent

If there’s a chance in my busy schedule

I want to put my body in your warm and deep eyes

I like that, your long, straight hair

Your breathtaking neck when you

Put it up and the strands that fall out

This isn’t about me, right? It can’t be. There’s no way he’d write a song about me. Not even Haneul did that, and we dated for ten months. I’ve known Yoongi for a much shorter time span, it’s just-

“It’s about you.” He blurts out. He tightens his lip as if he never intended on saying those words. And a sinking feeling in my chest wishes he didn’t either. We held hands, slept together, nearly kissed, but this was too much for me to bear. It seemed so intimate, I knew the line that I had set had been crossed. But the real question was, is this a line that had never existed in the first place? Was it only to lurk back into the shadows, hiding away from any sort of care or love anyone could have for me ever again?

“I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Kanako. Just let me be a boy writing a song about a girl. Nothing in between.”

“No one’s ever done this for me before.” I say, feebly. 

He takes my hands, his palms warm and welcoming, “Then let me be the first.” 

Corny, but genuine. 

My eyes carry from his hands to his eyes, giving a disheartened smile. I don’t feel like I’m worth a song. He takes me and sits me down on the rolly chair next to his. He takes the paper from my hands and looks over to the chair behind us, “You were there when we met for the first time.”

I giggle softly, almost embarrassed. “Yes, unfortunately.”

He backs away from me in playful shock, “Unfortunately?” 

I blow a raspberry, “Well I just wish it could’ve been more of a natural meeting. Like a meet-cute.”

“I’m sorry Kanako, but I think that’s as meet-cute as it gets.” 

“You may be right about that.” I laugh, looking back over to the chair. 

I smile to myself warmly, my curiosity getting the best of me. “What is it?” He asks. 

I turn to him again, “What did you think of me when you first met me?”

He leans back in his chair, whispering a slight ‘ahh’ and nodding. His stare moves to the ceiling, thinking for a while. He tightens his mouth in a line again before sucking in his teeth, “Do you want the full truth? Or the I'm-trying-not-to-embarrass myself truth?” He asks. 

I hum, “Both.”

MAY 11TH, 2011, 7:15

I’m sitting on Haneul’s lap in his personal studio. It’s much nicer than the other one, due to the amount of money he seems to flock in with every hit he produces. He’s writing something down as I look around the room, admiring the photographs and paintings he has set up. 

His sets his pen down and wraps his arms around me, looking at me from above.

“Something on your mind, bee?” He asks. I love when he calls me that. He’s created many pet names for me, this one we use as a code name when we’re around other people. It’s like an undercover baby. They all think we’re just a pair of talented people who work well together. 

I nod, “What did you think when you first met me?” 

He smirks and grabs my wrist to place soft kisses up my arm, moving his hand to my chin to pull me down for a kiss. “Well, we were in the conference room when we first met, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” I whisper. 

He purrs into my mouth, deepening our kiss before pulling away. He has that same smirk, and I wait eagerly for his answer. I knew you were the one. It was love at first sight. I wanted to be around you all the time. You were so funny, Kanako. Your smile felt so warm. I just wanted to-

“-bend you over on that glass table and pound into you.” He whispers in my ear. I sit still while his tongue traces my ear lobe, clueless as to what to say. That’s not what I expected, but it creates a reaction beneath my underwear. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand down my shorts, dipping his finger between my lips. I moan quietly from the sudden motion. 

It’s not what I wanted, but it’s what he needs. 

MARCH 4TH, 2012, 10:02AM 

“The half truth is, I liked you. I liked your voice and the way you connected with the music like I did. I thought we were very similar.” He puts it simply. 

I raise my eyebrow amusingly, “And the whole truth?”

He throws his head back and laughs with scarlet cheeks, “It’s uh- dumb.” He settles. 

I tilt my head and pout, taking that move from Taehyung. “Can’t be that bad.” Oh, yes it can. 

“Okay, okay.” He sighs. “I really liked you.” 

I give him a light shove on his shoulder, “Yoongi….”

“Alright, I’ll be serious.”

“Thank you.”

Our eyes lock, “You were so…perfect. Like, obviously I’ve seen you on TV and social media and I knew you were…well, you know. But I felt like I couldn’t even believe that you existed, and that you looked like that, and you were in front of me. I mean, when you asked me to rap on your song, Kanako…I think I died.”

“So you were a fangirl.”

His expression changes, falling flat. “No. I admired you. You were so talented like I thought you’d be, but you exceeded my expectations.” 

I fiddle with his wrist, writing lines along his veins with my fingers. “And when you saw me in the hallway?” I whisper, fearful. 

He removes his hands and uses them to cup my face, “Same thing, Kanako. I was just confused, but I didn’t think of you any different.”

“Really?”

He seems taken aback from my surprise, “I mean, he was my senior. I thought he was a good guy but-”

“But?”

He caresses my cheek with his thumb, “That changed. I wanted to protect you.”

Protect me? Wait-

When a thought pushes to the start of my tongue, I can't help it from rolling off. “Were you the one that told Bang about me and Haneul?” I ask in one single breath. 

click here to read more of this story!

an: it was so fun writing this one! I loved playing around with kanako and yoongi’s dynamic. keep in mind kanako is 18 and yoongi is also supposed to be 18 (i think I did the math right) so they’re kind of evolving as they go due to being teenagers. don’t hate on my girl kanako she’s going through it, truly. also, I had a very different idea for this chapter and ended up deleting all of it because it really did not fit the story. bc probably like most of you reading this, I’m also very inpatient with their love story. this is actually something I wouldn’t have read myself in the past, admittedly, but as I get older I like taking my time with romance, as well as reading slow romance. anyway!

all love! will probably squeeze out another chapter tonight so stay tuned! it is 4:00 pm 10/10/23 as i publish this 🌚

[myarrakeenbrainscape]

Day 6

I suppose there's a not so certain irony that I, on my sixth day of sobriety, am starting a blog on a site called Tumblr (as a Tumblr is a container traditionally used to mix alcoholic drinks).

I really can't tell you how many day sixes have preceded this one, but I know there are at least enough to pay a few months rent, if each one was substituted for a dollar.

I can also tell you, however, that for the very first time I admitted to not just myself but those around me that I have a drinking problem.

My most recent episode lasted about two weeks, with one or two days of sobriety (and no lucidity) peppered throughout that span. At the end of that two week period, I awoke in the middle of the night on a Friday morning around 2am, with such a monolithic and colossal sense of regret, worry, shame, and disgust, that the sum total of those emotions experienced in that single, lone evening probably come close to the sum total of those emotions experienced throughout the preceding years of my life.

I never, ever, want to experience anything like that again - or put my poor father through that again. I called him on a Saturday and told him of my situation - my selfish, insane, irresponsible, miserable situation.

I went to AA that same day and continue to do so. I cannot be the same person I once was - as if I'm just removing the malignant piece of a jigsaw puzzle but am otherwise fully the same; and its failing to have this realization prior to this that has kept me in a state of perpetual disarray since the moment I first had a thought that I might have a problem.

I still can't wrap my head around all the times I've woken up feeling similarly to how I felt when I did this past episode and still expected to be able to just walk away the same person, only one that's given up drinking.

I need to undergo a metamorphosis, entirely and utterly, and build a new life overtop the ruined and salted earth that is my current one.

This is day 6 and in a few short hours it will be day 7. God help me.

[sickknotdoom]

In a another post you said stuff abt Carroom and i just wanna add; ive begrudgingly accepted it, especially since Blair is one of my favorite Cometkids, but i still dont... actively like it. Especially in the kisswas comic where it was revealed Caroline "liked Doom before Uni even considered it" and it just? I don't know because in the main comic and basically everything before cometcare she was shown actively hating and mocking him. I liked the disagreement between Uni and Caroline in kisswas where she was supposedly uncomfortable because he was a serial killer! Caroline also seems heavily bpdcoded (i have bpd myself so i heavily sympathize with her) and the entire conflict of Uni dating a murderer was interesting! But it felt kinda washed away when she SUDDENLY has a crush on him out of nowhere? AND BEFORE UNI CONSIDERED IT? Wouldn't it make more sense if it was after, since Uni would be there to show her that he does have a good side? I don't know Carroom just feels weird but again i guess i just have to live with it lol

does the whole "i liked him before you even considered it" thing even make sense chronologically? i remember somewhere on the blog stating doom and uni were exes prior to uni getting admitted to the hospital. i likely also have borderline personality disorder and i imagine doom may have it, but maybe im projecting. and from what i can tell, the two fucking hate eachother.

the kisswas/kissmas/kismesis/whatever christmas comic wouldve been decent enough if caroline was like. "i dont want my partner dating a serial killer/inviting a serial killer over to the house" since that would fall more in line with her personality exhibited in the actual comic. and also it wouldnt make sense for her to like doom before his "good side" is revealed, would it? because all she would know is that doom is a serial killer that worked at the hospital that traumatized her and many close to her. i feel like theyre trying to bruteforce every ship theyve conjured up at 2am one night.

speaking of which, i feel like doom giving caroline a smiley face necklace is sorta a dick move since yknow. its resembling the face on her hospital mask. wouldnt it be sorta triggering to her, especially since hes former hospital staff and giving it to a former patient?

but to be fair after having puke dumped on my head i would definitely try to find a way to get back, just my beautiful princess disorder yknow. speaking of which, are we all forgetting this is the same man she Dumped An Entire Bucket Of Barrys Fresh Disgusting Vomit On

i will never not bring this up. caroline despises doom. theyd be kismeses at best, but theyre not trolls soooooooo (yes everything cycles back to my homestuck brain rot) i feel like them having any positive relations would be extremely flawed writing.

in conclusion, #I Think The Clowns Need To Reassess Whats Consistent To The Story Here 👁️_👁️. (only my most obsessed haters understand that reference)

[poet-with-a-quill]

Watching Self-Help Channels at 2 AM

listen, okay there's something about that time of the night the darkness brings with it a peculiar honesty, events of the day catch up and pull me under, the not-quite-day of it is a liminal space, a turning point, a chance

(if i stay awake, then it can't be tomorrow because generally, if i'm like this- tomorrow's probably dead everything washed-out, gray there is no future, and i wish today had not been i cannot be at peace, i cannot face the next day)

delay too far past 2 AM and the next day is forfeited, and any time earlier still feels too public for the black-sludge emotions and spiraling, the imminent breakdown, a tornado refusing to be reigned in

i look for help- at night, there is only the internet salvation appears on my phone screen in the form of strangers. for just one moment, virtually, i fling the caraccas of my emotional psyche to them, i shout "do with this mess what you will!" a tired mother passing on a tantrum child

in those moments, i cannot understand myself and in this dark i can admit i don't think i will be able to not by myself this is terrifying in itself- this defeat who will understand me if i sometimes give up?

impossibly, they seem to catch me messy me, barely-there me, tired me they can see me, they explain me to me they say: you are not alone this happened, because of this logical reason or maybe it was illogical, but you're only human after all and considering the circumstances, they ask, would you blame somebody else? and have you had some water today? have you gone outside?

they make me want to come to me like i am not a malfunction or a scrap part to be binned but flawed and allowed to be so that it makes perfect sense to be so

some of them are psychologists and that lessens the shame sometimes someone had to do a whole-ass degree to know all this the ancient Greeks said: it is hardest to know yourself i end up cutting myself some slack

but truthfully, many times its just someone on the internet sharing a little bit of themselves their fears, their tears, their ugly defeats even that is enough that connection can tide me over the realization of the number of their 2am's that must have preceded this video makes me feel less alone.

i hug my phone screen sometimes in lieu of hugging them when things go well, 2 am passes quietly, a crisis handled and averted and brings with it sweet, sweet sleep the next day still exists, and i am okay, i can face it.

-shums

[minniefights]

Update #7

It’s our 5th day at the ICU.

The big blessing is that Mom’s awake. She woke up the dawn after she was intubated and admitted in the ICU. She was a bit confused at first as to why she lost her voice, among other discomforts that come with intubation and NGT.

Another blessing is that she’s being given the medical attention that she needs here. Her 6 doctors are able to check on her, together with the ICU staff. Recently, an Infectious Disease specialist was onboarded because of Mom’s recurrent Pneumonia and to manage the strong antibiotics she received in the past 4-5 months. We just found out that she is actually suffering from Sepsis and she’s taking aggressive medication for it. We’re pushed against the wall and are doing the best we could.

When awake, Mom is able to communicate thru writing or using the iPad. During the daytime, I stay with her at the ICU. It’s a blessing that the Head Nurse allowed my Mom to have a watcher 24/7 because she could also get agitated sometimes. At nighttime, the caregiver comes to take care of Mom, while I go to take a quick shower, a short nap at the nearby hostel and come back to wait outside the ICU where Mom can see me thru a mirror.

Mom wrote this in the paper around 2AM when she couldn’t find me. (Translation for non-Bisaya speakers: “Yana! Where are you?”)The caregiver called me immediately and I arrived in like 7 mins after. She doesn’t like me gone for too long and that’s why I haven’t gone home since. 🙃

Visiting friends and family could see Mom thru the mirror as well. We usually call them if Mom is awake or if they want to say something to her. Only myself and the caretaker usually comes inside. We usually get food packs daily still from our Iligan community brothers and sisters (The Light of the World), everyday, three times a day, sending us delicious food we are so grateful for! A helper keeps me company at night and is able to buy the meds in the morning, and generous friends and family come by in the afternoon. We do get by with help from our friends!! Thank you so much!

As of the moment, she is still in need of the intubation as a support for her breathing. At the ventilator’s max capacity, she still has labored breathing. Her Blood Pressure also still drops a bit lower than normal once her IV medication is over. But is doing a tad better. It looks like we’ll need to stay here a bit more until she drastically improves. As ever, she’s obedient and cooperative when she’s not agitated but also she expressed that she’s tired.

There’s so much to do and think of by the day but even more so much grace as well.

We don’t know what tomorrow holds but today Mama Minnie still fights, and we will too! ❤️

[princewished]

🍓🥺

send me a 🍓and I'll compliment you!

ALLISON ALLISON ALLISON ALLISON ALLISON ALLISON ALL

when I say that some of the BEST rp fun I've ever had in my eight years of roleplaying have been with you, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. our threads had me staying up WAY past my bedtime, giggling madly at 2am as I tried to stay quiet, penning my responses by moonlight like I was some ninth century scholar or else stealing snatches at work to jot down thoughts for replies on my phone. i've just had the best time of my life roleplaying with you, to be completely honest.

I remember being so shy when I followed your alfred. I was just a baby uhtred blog back then and definitely admired you from afar, because your characterization, your prose, your everything was just so good, and here I was, bumbling onto the scene clumsy as could be, and I remember thinking to myself if this blog follows me back it will be an ACTUAL miracle, and I might just have to convert back to the christian god.

(spoiler alert, you did follow me back, but i admit I did not convert back to the christian god. oopsies.)

anyway, I didn't want to seem over-eager or like I was pressuring you for replies, but from the get-go things were just so FUN! and then one day you told me that this was some of the best fun you'd had on alfred in ages, and I swear I could have shot through the roof by how happy that made me DSAHFJKASDF just! knowing that I was also making you happy and that you were having as much fun as I was!

and then, well, I consider us a bit like two peas in a pod now to be honest with you - alfredperdiems and dailydoseofragnars tend to do that to a person, I reckon - but really, you've just been such an amazing influence on me. I think you really taught me how to enjoy myself when I was rp'ing again.

I don't know if I ever told you, but I was going through a really rough point in my life when I started my Uhtred blog and talking to you just made me smile so much and brought me so much joy that I really can't thank you enough for just! being you! because you did that.

I look back on some of the threads we wrote pretty often - not only just to remember what a great time it was, but because I grew an INCREDIBLE amount as a writer in an ASTONISHINGLY short time, which I partially credit to you as well. my quality of writing rose to meet yours, and I look back and admire the threads I created and go back to REFERENCE the shit I wrote with you just to see if I can recreate some of my favorite turns-of-phrase.

overall, you're just incredible, and our time rping together has been incredible, and this is so long and probably rather sentimental but there you have it jksdhjksf. also,

have a happy little alfred-per-diem

[fahrni]

Definitely not Immortal

I don’t believe in making resolutions for the new year. If something needs doing, just do it.

I’m just starting to feel better after a few days fighting off a stomach bug. There’s an alarming trend with my health. When someone in my family gets sick I seem to be the only other member of the family to get sick.

Friday afternoon I started feeling uncomfortable. By Friday evening my granddaughter and I were both pretty darned sick. She was worse off than me. She stopped vomiting around 11PM and fell asleep. Poor baby was wiped out.

I puked my first and only time at 2AM (my issue has been the other end!) Last time I checked the time it was 2:45AM. I fell to sleep sometime after that.

She woke up Saturday feeling much better. I, on the other hand, slept most of the day and stayed in bed as much as my gut would allow.

The dogs woke me up Sunday morning. I was still off. I felt detached from my body. When I’d touch things they didn’t feel real. No fever, but it’s often how I feel with a fever. I managed to eat dinner. My first meal since the slice of pizza I had Friday evening before symptoms really kicked in.

Here we are, Monday morning. My gut is still gurgling and feels fragile. I did have coffee. I was hoping it wasn’t a mistake and so far, so good. No vomiting since Friday but still having issues out the other end. I’ve managed to keep down water and Gatorade just fine. Today I’m hoping some additional solids will help get me over the hump.

All of this to say I’m thinking about my mortality more than ever before. My body is breaking down and I’ve not helped myself by becoming morbidly obese — according to the doctor based on my weight. I get tired easily and my body flat out hurts most of the time. I sit on my butt way too much. I’ve become that lazy man I said I’d never become and it’s going to kill me. And still, after all that, I lack the motivation to do anything about it.

What’s wrong with me?

To be totally honest I can’t die anytime soon. I’ve predicted my own demise at 80 years old if things don’t change. I have a wife, kids, and grandkids who still depend on me. Couple that with being an idiot when it comes to financial planning and I’ve setup the perfect American nightmare scenario. Aging husband, retired wife, two kids who struggle in our economy. We are one medical disaster away from all of us living on the streets. That’s the most American thing I can think of.

One of my biggest issues is having a positive attitude about things working out. I’ve always felt like we’ll be ok and find our way through. To date, we’ve managed to just that.

I’d imagine this is a fairly average tale as folks age and realize they are indeed mortal and they did a horrible job of financial planning. Also, I believe, very American. 😂

Kim, my amazing wife, is right. I need to make big changes. I used to be active and loved going to the gym. I need to exercise more. I also need to stop abusing my body with crummy food. I love fast food. There, I admitted it. I love to eat. It’s a terrible attribute. Why couldn’t I be “addicted” to math the way I am to food? Genetics has something to do with it, I’m sure. I developed a strange attitude after almost dying at the age of 17. My attitude was: If I want it, I’m getting it. A second piece of pie? Yes, please. Yep, another brilliant strategy.

If anyone knows of a study that’s been conducted on people’s relationship with food please point me to it. I obviously have a bad one. It’s like being a crack addict or alcoholic. It’s like staying in that abusive relationship because you’re in love. I’m sorry if that comparison offends anyone. I have no other way to make my point. I have a real problem.

I know, I know, what a strange thing to share.

This is just me with a quiet morning to myself, coming off being sick, with a slightly addled brain (still feeling detached) from the ordeal. 🤪

[sadbrainz]

one day you just realize while you’re laying in bed at 2am that the reason you have tried to hold on so tightly to lovers who could not love you well and who sometimes didn’t even want to try is because you know that deep inside of your stomach and your chest and your bones is this disgust with yourself, this feeling that you are ugly and bitter to the tongue and that begging to be loved is the only way you will get it, that begging is the only way someone like her could love someone like you. but it isn’t true and you know this because for every person you left teeth marks in by holding on too tight there is someone waiting for you to love yourself enough to come sit on the floor so they can braid your hair and that someone else is waiting for you love yourself enough to tell them how scared you get sometimes when you think about being a little kid and that someone else is waiting for you to love yourself enough to say i did something to hurt myself so they can sit with you and make you coffee and feed you something warm you can eat with a big spoon. and i think that the absolute hardest part of being hurt over and over again you are small is that you grow up believing that loving you is so hard that you have to do absolutely anything to prove you are worth it even if you don’t believe it, especially when you don’t believe it. you learn walk around believing that love is something you only get as reward for becoming whatever the person in front of you wants you to be, because the person you are isn’t worth anything, you believe that with everything in you.

i do a lot of talking to my body and talking to my small self because i have done so much to hurt both of them. and i know if i can love pieces of myself really slowly eventually i will love my whole self, be kinder to my whole self.

i’m an alcoholic, it took me 9 years to admit that. i had already been doing dope for years when i found alcohol and eventually i stopped shooting up and thought that would be the hardest thing i ever had to do. but there still isn’t anything that compares to that feeling when you take your first pull of vodka from the bottle and everything inside you just gets really soft and warm, your brain stops counting and remembering, you get so quiet. there are things i felt in sobriety that were incredible, that were also warm and also soft, i know that substance use makes things happen in your brain that cannot be recreated organically, that it makes your brain do things it’s not supposed to do, but it still makes me sad to think about, that i can’t remember anything that’s felt better than the first mouthful of liquor in an empty stomach. booze has this fist around my insides that i know will only lessen its grip if i start to learn how to be alone with myself, how to be honest about who i am, how to believe that i actually do deserve good love and that the only way i earn it is by being alive. alcohol never asked anything of me, never wanted me to be a softer person, never wanted to see me stop hurting myself, it was complete acceptance of my brokenness. that sometimes is still hard to think about too, that i only liked myself and only thought i was fun to be around if i was pretending to be someone else. that i thought i had be fun at all. i thought i had to trick people into loving me by pretending to be someone else. sobriety is really hard some days. some days it’s just me and myself, some days it’s just me and someone who loves me honestly and fully. who knew i was pretending and loved me through it. who saw how much i hated myself and loved me through it.

i guess i just didn’t really know what giving up drinking would feel like, i knew it would be painful, i knew i would finally have to look at the mess i had made if my life. that i would have to set down all my anger and learn to make peace with the ways i have been bruised. but there are some things that no one can really warn you about, you just have to go through it. getting clean is one those things. it’s been so painful. i hurt all the time, but i don’t only hurt and i try really hard to remind myself of that. people loved me when i was hurting myself and lying and pretending. i was not a functioning alcoholic, i did not hide it well. it’s hard to reconcile that my 20s are almost gone and that i spent so much of that time drunk or high or doing something risky and stupid to hurt myself. my sponsor told me once that the reason alcohol is such a malicious beast is because it kills you so slowly. when i was shooting up i always knew the next shot could b the one that killed me. he told me he often hears people say, “i don’t have another blackout left in me” but he told me that in reality i have a thousand black outs left in me and if i wanted to i could spend the rest of my life being drunk and angry and scared.

i guess what i’m maybe trying to say is that i look at people in my life like charlie and lu and keila and they are people who have been there waiting with so much care for me, so much love for me just waiting for me to love myself enough to reach out and touch it, and they see how hard it is sometimes, how it hurts so much and how there is so much grief not so much in being deeply hurt by someone you trusted but in letting people love you well afterward. letting people love you even when you feel like you are rotted away on the inside. the reality is they love me the same way alcohol did, they look at me and say “i love you. i even love the parts you think are absolutely putrid.” they say, “i do not think any part of you is hard to love and that’s why it hurts so much to watch you hurt yourself.” getting sober meant i would have to finally face this really simple truth: that loving me isn’t hard, that nothing in me is deserving of being hurt, and that there isn’t anything poetic or beautiful about my suffering. the truth is sometimes complicated and cycles of abuse are complicated and people are complicated but if i accept that loving me is not difficult than i have to accept that nothing in me deserved to be hurt and it means that when i was small and a man who was supposed to love me took absolutely everything from me that none of me deserved that, and if i didn’t deserve that than he just hurt me because he wanted to. he hurt me because he was selfish. be hurt me because he could. it means that the disease i was born with isn’t a punishment for something i did before, in a different timeline or a different life. it means that i got handed a really shit card and that it’s my responsibility now to honor the parts of myself that were shaped by that hurt. i’m learning i have this idea of justice that has always caused me pain: good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people. but goodness isn’t something we do to be rewarded and bad things happen for no other reason than because they do, but when you believe that bad things happen to bad people and something bad happens to you, you think you’re bad. and when you think you’re bad it’s easier to hurt yourself but it’s also easier to hurt other people.

i’m just grateful to be loved so well today, at 2am in december of what was arguably the hardest year of my life in every direction. i was really sick, i relapsed a lot, i lost some people i love to overdose and i lost other people i loved because of truths that were in conflict with mine and hurts we couldn’t heal. i fought so much with my mom, my sister stopped talking to me, i had to rehome my dog, i moved homes and was in rehab or the hospital so much that i have felt most of the year longing for something that feels like home.

but i also went to a diner one sunday morning with my best friends and we ate food and talked about toni morrison and what it means to be a girl. i also made so many things with my hands that i’m really proud of, i found a playfulness in my art practice that i haven’t felt since i was a kid. i also fell in love (and still am in love) with someone who taught me how to letterpress, and who i write poems about, and who showed up when I called them in the middle of the night to drive my dog to the emergency vet and who makes me feel safe enough to unmask and whose fucking smile makes my heart hurt because of fiercely i want to protect it. i also ate food cooked by people who love me. i also perfected cooking brussel sprouts just the way i like them. i also watched horror movies with my brothers. i also reconnected with some of my family in a way i didn’t think would happen after my abuela died. i also had so many moments where i was sober and i was happy, even if they were just moments.

i have to remember that when i’m drunk i don’t feel anything. and that hurting when you’re sober feels a lot better than the nothingness. i don’t know if i can say yet that i love myself. but i respect myself, and trusting myself is coming even if it’s slowly. i’m excited to meet the version of myself that love me, i’m excited to have the life i want because i know it wants me too.

i don’t know if these thoughts make sense together they were all just existing in my head at the same time