#and i am just exhausted from interning

[plush-rabbit]

The Dateables and Things

A/N: I needed to write something and like it was supposed to be about them and how they show affection towards you, but it did not come out like that so here it is!!

-

Barbatos: 

He was only ever meant to serve- devoted and loyal to a fault where he’d die for his master if it was asked for. Barbatos was never meant to interact with you more than necessary; you were only an exchange student after all, a means to an end for the young master’s grand scheme. And yet, here you stand before him, invading his mind and body, acting as a poison that will wear him away and leave nothing but dust. You’re nothing more than a human, and all the same, you are a human, all of that and just that. He isn’t sure what it was that attracted him to you, perhaps it was how every other demon and angel and sorcerer had taken a fancy to you, or maybe how you always tried to include him when he was content just staying by the sidelines. Whatever the reason was, he was attracted to you, like a moth to a flame, his heart fluttering and beating against his ribs. 

It’s no surprise how affectionate you are with him. You cling to him, hands hooked onto the crook of his elbow, or hands bunching up his blazer so as to not get lost. When you part ways, your lips press against his cheek, fingertips oppressed over his jaw to turn him towards you and to keep him from running away. It wasn’t something that he was proud to admit, but he wanted your touch. He craved it more than he could ever understand, and more than he was ever willing to admit. He wanted to keep you close to him and he wanted to kiss you and never part for breath. The attachment and desire terrified him. It wasn’t like him to want to give in to such temptations, to want someone and want to give up so much of himself to someone other than his king. 

The attention that you gave to him was something that he craved, and wanted once he got a taste for it. He truly believed that if he just sat back and spoke to you in short conversations, that you would find someone else- find someone who could love you as selfishly as possible. But you never left him alone and he didn’t push you away. He wanted the attention that you gave him, he savored it each and every time that it was given to him. You had wanted his attention and when some spell had made him want your attention, he couldn't lie to himself that stealing and harboring all of your love was intoxicating.  The spell made him obsessed, and now beside you, he wishes he could blame a spell that would warrant such a lack of manners and selfishness. 

Porcelain clicks against each other in a sweet melody, and he feels your eyes on him. You sit on a stool, watching and talking, and he is paying close attention. He serves you the first slice, humming and nodding along. He pours you the first cup and places the sugar and creamer in for you even though the tea that he has made needs nothing of the sort, but it’s something that you prefer. The honey is stirred in thick and sweet now mixed into the drink, and he passes you the fruit that has sat above his slice of dessert. 

Barbatos says your name so sweetly, your name held in a whisper as he draws your attention. “My dear, would you like another slice?” Such a simple question has you beaming, your smile bright like the human sun, and it’s all for him, the warmth, the love, the want for him. It's for him and no one else. He’s glad that this is the timeline for him, that you chose to want him. You shake your head, and politely tell him no. Your hand reaches for his that are bare from the usual gloves that rest beside his own empty plate. Your wraps around his, your thumb arching over his knuckles. He pulls out of your reach and he smiles as your fingers reach out to continue to touch him. He curves over your hands, thumb and index finger pinching over each of your fingers and tracing upwards. “I wish I never had to part from you,” he whispers to you. “I think I could trace your body for eternity and never grow bored.” When he kisses you, he can taste the honey stuck on your lips. You’ll always get the sweetest honey, always be poured first when it’s the two of you, you'll have the sweetest piece and the finest china.

Diavolo: 

There’s an expectation for him, from him. He is a prince. A future king of his people. He has done so much, has sacrificed having any sense of normalcy in his relationships, and he will always be expected to sacrifice and to make the right choices. He suggested the exchange program to open communication, and it brought you to him. It was meeting you that he realized just how lonely he really was. Or perhaps he had always known that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how desperate he was, there was always going to be a power imbalance with every relationship that he would have had. He was never going to be an equal in a relationship. But then you come along, and he isn’t a king to you. He isn’t a “Lord” or a “Prince”, he is simply just Diavolo.

You’re human and it has to be a cruel joke on him made by the universe to have you live a short life and have him live to a time that you could never comprehend. A part of him restrained himself from trying to get to know you, but that was all that he wanted to do; he wanted to get to know you. He wanted to be close to you and to hold your hand and when you would lean against or laugh at one of his jokes, he would swell with pride, beam with a smile and be covetous with your attention. You were sweet with him and it was intoxicating. He needed more of you, needed more of the casual banter and the eagerness that many were hesitant to give him. Not many were like that to him. Not many wanted to be around him in fear of saying something that would offend. 

It’s so rare for him to wish for anything different about his life. He’s fine with his status despite how lonely it could be. But when he’s around you, when he’s reminded of how human you are when you grow weary after using magic, he wishes that things were different.That maybe as human, he would have met you all the same and would have fallen for you just as hard. You make it difficult to stay away from you. He tries not to grow so attached, but he can’t help but seek you out as you do with him. It is wicked of him to steal so much time away from you, but having you close to him brings him comfort that he has not had in a long time. 

When he’s around you, he gives you his all; his entire being is placed in your hands. He’s allowed to be himself, to stay soft without the fear of being torn apart and having to harden up. Around you, he’s allowed to want and to give into his wants as small as they seem. He can trace the lines on your palms, have you brush his hair and hold his hand. Around you, he does not have to be a prince, he can simply be himself. As much as he loves being someone that you can rely on, he cannot deny that he also loves just being spoiled by you. He gets to let his guard down and to have you pet him and coo such soft things that if it were any other, he would have ordered an execution. He gets drunk off your comfort, how you baby him and how you let him be a puddle of ooze when around you. He wants nothing more than to spend his days with you, to nuzzle into your chest and let the world be locked away and blocked by wood. 

Your legs are thrown over the cushions of the seat, your phone held in your hand as you mindlessly scroll through whatever it is that you’re watching. He could only guess short videos with the brief seconds that are given to him. Your back is turned to him, and he stares at the nape of your neck and the outline of the shirt that is draped over your back, the muscles and fat shaping the fabric over your body and he is entranced by it. You’re in a vulnerable spot, and you give your back to him, and he gets to stare, gets to let the tip of the pen blot on the document, and let the stack of paperwork remain the same height. In the next breath, you tell him that you can feel his eyes on your back and the corners of his lips twitch. He makes no noise as he walks over to you, crouching down to be at eye level with you. “I think I would like for you to hold me,” he says in a delicate voice, fearing the possible rejection even if it were impossible. Your smile grows and you open your arms, letting him lay upon you. Diavolo gets to be held by you; he is allowed to feel soft and have you wrap your arms in a comforting hug and play with the hair that trails along the back of his neck.

Simeon:

You’ll always catch his haze on you no matter where either of you are. He’s been alive for so long, and lived in a way that a proper angel should. Simeon is an angel, devoted and loyal to one and no other. He is supposed to be an angel first, and a being second. His entire existence, his reason for being alive is to be devoted to Father. In the entire time that he’s been alive, he can count on one hand all the times his own loyalty has wavered, and even then, it was a passing thought, and ones that he has punished himself for. Never has he strayed from the teachings that have been engraved upon him, words etched into his very soul and being, words that glisten along his skin in gold and blood. He is an angel, through and through. 

A plan was set out for him, there was to be no shortcuts, no distractions or any of the sort. And yet, he meets you. Defying death and making relationships with a kind that eats your very soul, and protecting the young angel from such a proud demon. Meeting you set him off of his trajectory. Meeting you had only made him fall, slowly and surely. He chases after you, lays his head on your lap, and watches you sleep, traces the shape of your face and dips his index on your cupid’s bow. When he sees you laugh alongside Luke, and wave to gesture him over, he believes that he could have had a good life with you had he been born mortal. He’d stake his life on it, rip his own wings out if he was wrong. He would have been happy with you, he would have lived a good, long, loving life with you. He’d grow gray and rest beside you, count every new wrinkle that appeared on your skin. In a different life, he would have loved to wash dishes with you and live ordinary. 

Whatever he has going on with you, the relationship is a sin. It’s a mockery of what happened long ago, but in Devildom, where the moons’ light and the stars and night sky obstruct Father’s view, he can lie beside you. He’s rotten, worms and parasites filling his insides, but when you kiss him and hold him in your arms, he’s pure and holy once more. He wants you, craves you, desires you more than he has ever needed something in his life. He describes you in such a way that anyone would have believed you to be a saint, to some angelic figure higher than him, someone coated in gold and sweet like perfume. Yet, you aren’t that. You’re human. Sinful and pure, an enigma that holds onto him in the middle of the night with your ear pressed against his chest. He’s noticed the way that Raphael looks between the two of you, and he’s aware of what the angel would say, but it’s you, and it’s no question that the former angel would trade everything just to sit beside you for a moment. 

He’s answered for his treachery, held his tongue and stole from the Celestial Realm all for you. He was stripped of his status and made human. It’s blasphemy to think, but it’s you that he’s placed above all else. He’d never place the blame on you, he would rather have his mouth fill and drip of blood before he would ever make you feel guilty. There are many things that he would do rather than ever have you feel like you have to hold the blame for his blessing being removed. Even with his blessing removed, even with his status as a human, it doesn’t stop him from blessing you, from hoping and pleading that his words would keep you safe from the dangers around, from something that he can’t protect you from. 

“I don't think I’ll ever understand how you type so fast,” he says, watching in amazement as you send out a message. You stick your tongue out to him in response and he smiles. “You think that being a writer and living with Luke and Solomon, that I would have it down by now, but-” he cuts himself off with a sigh, turning his body over, the comforter pulled slightly away from you. The phone is placed on the nightstand where it buzzes with a notification, and your hands pull on the stolen piece of blanket back towards you. You open your mouth in a retort, and he watches as you furrow your brows and swiftly turn your head to sneeze into the crook of your elbow. “Bless you,” Simeon whispers as you sniffle out your thanks. The moonlight peeking through the window does nothing to warm the room like a sun would have, but it’s enough to see you in a pearl glow with fuzz dancing in the air. There was a time where he would bless you before you woke, desperate to keep you safe, and now he continues that, hoping that you would stay alive because he needs you more than he would like to admit. 

Solomon: 

The sorcerer has never been one to form bonds- after a few hundred years of immortality, one learns that all good things do come to an end, and the pain never fades. However, you seem to be different. He’s spent a long time alone, and he’s had his fun and spent time mourning for those whose voices he no longer remembers- he’s told himself not to get attached, played coy with you, teased and flirted, and he thought that whatever the two of you shared, would stay as a fling. He was fine with it- he was fine with the flings and the small moments, and he was fine remembering the things that his past lovers used to love. Solomon was supposed to be fine, not caring, not wanting to get close because getting close meant love and love meant mourning and it meant grief, and as powerful as he is, grief wears away the soul. He’s sure that he could handle another heartache, but he’d rather not.

A part of him is sure that he had some way that he showed his love to someone, that he could be vulnerable to someone when he was younger, when the weight of immortality wasn’t so heavy. He tries to remember it for you, tries to even copy your own, but it never fits right. Every action that he mirrors is false, it isn’t him. All of it is you, and he doesn’t want to be a copy of you- much less he doesn’t want to stain the memories he has of you with copies of himself crudely pasted over your silhouette. You show love so eagerly, so readily, and without saying any words, you’ve already made it clear what you think of him, and what you want from him.

It’s a slow build of wanting to be with you and allowing himself to be close to you. The flirting is fine- that’s the easy part, sharing sharp grins and letting his hand linger onto you for a bit longer than necessary- it’s all fun and games. He never thought he would ever want you so hopelessly, as if he were young and in love all over again. You were supposed to be fun, and then all of a sudden you weren’t. It was by chance- maybe, or maybe not- that you had been chosen for the exchange program, and it was only by chance that he had wanted to stick close to you out of some sort of comfort to provide to you when you looked so helpless and lost. And by a cruel joke from fate, he had gotten attached. The brothers had taken away all of your attention and it had left him feeling empty. He wanted to reach out to you; he needed to touch you, to be near you and to occupy every inch and ounce of your mind just as you had to his. 

Citrus coats his fingers, it’s sticky and wet, and he pulls at the white string that dangles from the orange slice, tossing it onto the bowl of peeled skin and white thread. A television show plays in front of you, one that you’ve been eager to watch and enthralled ever since. Two empty bags of popcorn have fallen to the floor, and you sit with your leg underneath you and body pushed to the corner of the couch. It’s so simple, so human, that it makes him smile and wince when orange squirts on his wrist. The slice of citrus is cleaned, peeled and made to look delectable for you. You turn your head towards him, mouth parted open and he places the slice on your tongue. With a hum, you knock your head gently onto his shoulder as a thank you, and he continues to peel the citrus. 

He stares at you, with your finger pinched softly over the peeled slice of citrus, and you trace his lips with it, and he can’t help but smile, and open his mouth to have the orange placed flat on his tongue. “Thank you,” he says, with bursts of juice filling his mouth and sliding down the back of his throat. He can't help but stare at you, to have the bowl of skin and seeds in front of him. The show has been paused and it lights up the room, and he’s looking at you. His thumb brushes over your lips, and when he kisses you, you taste like citrus, and summer. You lean into the kiss, lips stretching into a smile and thinning the touch between the two of you. Solomon’s hands are sticky and sweet, and when he looks at you, you’ve returned to watching the series as you lean against him. If you were to ask him for anything, he’d do it in a heartbeat, no matter how big or how small the request is. And in this moment, you ask for another slice of citrus, and he hopes that you would always ask him for this, that you would never peel your own fruit again just for the chance to be beside you, for the chance for you to need him.

#obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me headcanons #im like in a rut #i have ideas!! #i got a piss kink and non con requests that i love so yeah #and then i have one idea to write #and i am just exhausted from interning #so yeah #bleh #im gonna like rot alive #one guy is insufferable and its a group thought #so im not being rude #or anything #by gosh golly gee #he is a piece of work #and privileged #and as a broke person #im gonna like throw up on him

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

honestly wally is stronger than atlas. if i had to constantly calibrate to the nature of my reality w/ full consciousness i would simply lose my fucking mind

#like babies dont Think while they learn how to exist #imagine straight up spawning fully aware and then everyone else is up to speed but youre standing there like #🧍‍♂️uh. hello. what is everything. what is this. huh???? #LIKE???? i feel so bad for him. dude got dropped right into the middle of the ocean and was told 'learn to swim' #and hes trying. but he doesnt know what drowning is so he cant sink either #i mean i get it at least a little bit! its the Autism Experience but w/ him the dial is cranked up to a thousand #you dont know what you dont know but life goes on like you should. fuck #wally i am mentally beaming you a thousand apples grown in the shape of hearts #i believe in you dude you'll figure it out #well. im probably beaming apples into the past if the time discrepancy is real but yk yk #cause if it is then Current Wally probably has a solid handle on things. from a basic standpoint #in a wider lens i am led to believe that he is Scrabbling #is this speculation??? #i think it counts. #wh speculation #homebogging #whenever i think about the tidbits we know - ex: wally learning about differences in size #internally i start howling. wally is just constantly dealing with things that would drive a person insane if they had to live it #how is he not Exhausted... it's all so much for someone who knows whats going on let alone someone scrambling to catch up #at least the other neighbors dont have to deal with memorizing physics and skills and behavior #and just Literally Everything That Comes With Being Alive #wally is a blank slate left to write itself. #ough. damn. fuck. i think i need to go stare into the woods for a bit...

[megumi-fm]

.

#i am... dare i say... going insane...😃 #one of thee weeks of all time tbh #im already low on sleep given my last minute prep for today's internals #i was also supposed to get my internship presentation crosschecked with the guide today but it clashed with test timings and yeah.. ah well #atp i don't even know if i can show it to her tomorrow bc I need output images from this one tool that just. wont cooperate with me #was also supposed to start GRE prep today T-T #i must agree that having many tasks makes me feel less lethargic/dull and more mentally active but i am. overwhelmed. #and also so physically exhausted #I spent the past 8+ hours doing my presentation my eyes and my back are starting to hurt #the weather also sucks so bad there's no reason for it to be this hot ugh i hate capitalists and i hate global warming #i also miss tumblr... I haven't updated my daily tracker for the past five days... my weekly tracker has turned to a biweekly tracker and #and this time i think I'll be covering three weeks in one post lmaoo #there are so many things I'm yet to do on here... convos left halfway and incomplete tag games... and things I'm yet to reply to... gah #on that note Tanishka if you see these tags ily and i have our convo in my drafts but i dont have the time or the energy to reply rn :(( #hopefully soon~ #hope you guys are doing better than i am lol #megumi in the tags

[silverislander]

if someone else shows more than two indications that they like a thing that's a good, normal way to tell they like that thing, which is normal, because people like things. but if I have more than two indications of liking a thing that means i am irrevocably obsessed with the thing in a way that deserves mockery actually. this is a worldview that makes sense

#i do. a lot of mental gymnastics to internally justify my anxiety. and its fucking exhausting and i hate it #levi.txt #i talked about carrie in One class Once mentioning i was writing my essay on it. i made a halloween wallpaper w a still from the movie #bc i like carrie! its an interesting story. its not smth ive ever become completely hyperfixated on but i do like it #but i couldnt use the wallpaper for more than a week bc i was like 'people are going to think im obsessed' #like. i cant show any interest in smth or else it becomes 'people will think youre a freak about it' #were going to watch tlou in class on halloween and i just know its going to be difficult #bc whenever smth i love is mentioned i have to put a lid on my emotions to the point that it barely looks like i care at all #bc me being excited is so often 'too much' (both in my mind and historically from the perspective of others) #i am IN the 'obsessed with stories' major and i wont even let myself be visibly into stories. make it make sense #just. aughhhh i dont hold literally anyone else to these standards and its tiring! and i wish my brain would stop torturing me w it #i wish i could just be excited and passionate abt my favourite things without feeling guilt or anxiety abt it #im working on it. im doing it anyway and its improving its just slow going

[iloveyouitisruiningmylife]

real

#this is so mind numbingly exhausting i don't understand how everyone else seems to just do it? #it was such a weird day #started out in a good mood but then boss scolded these two interns cause of a mistake #and like he wasn't shouting exactly but he raised his voice and said so many things like you are so careless im suffering so many losses bc #bc of you outsiders are going to think i don't have a good team and i don't have control over my team #and how we should always note things down because we're so distracted and not serious #and how before going home everyday we should report to him what work we did today #i understand that he's being reasonable (maybe? idk) but it sounded so eerily horribly like my dad i couldn't function properly for an hour #why are men so similar everywhere #why am i SO scared i could feel the disappointment radiating off him and he wasn't even mad at me and i felt like a failure #which is so embarrassing like girl stop you are a 20 year old adult woman you will not cry at your workplace because an angry man triggered #your dad issues #and upar se there was a new intern at work one year younger than me and oh my god he was so annoying #like i talked to him first bc i pitied him like what if he felt alone it was only his second day but boy literally could not stop talking😭 #like ok it's kinda cool that this senior di she trusted me enough to be like you teach him this project report this when ive only been #here for 3 weeks but bhai😭 he's so annoying 😭 i have newfound respect for the di how does she handle all 7-8 of us interns i would go #crazy and shout at everyone and tell them to leave me alone 😭 but she's so patient and kind and answers dumb questions 100 times #but she's leaving this office permanently from next month bc of her ca final :( i mean very good for her she deserves better more money #better work hours better office etc. but :(( she's leaving :(( #as you can see i have both dad issues and abandonment issues so fun lol

[seknots-izumimir]

tomorrow is at least my last full day of school... waugh

#vent in tags #just in case bc i do mention bad stuff lmao #im so tired all the goddamn time... #i need to do stuff for my international uni but my dad made me feel like shit about it so now i'm putting it off for another few days :( #like yeah i know my sat scores fucking suck and im too dumb for college no need to rub it in lmao #yes i know i am going to go into debt to go to this school for the sole purpose of getting the FUCK away from you #if the debt gets too bad i'll just kill myself about it. whatever. #sigh. whatever. whatever whatever whatever. i'll do the stupid thing on friday and then i'll hope they accept me anyway #my dad is an exhausting person to be the child of...

[dreamswillbeyourwintermeat]

I do not need the spider veins on my leg fixed, my brother is just being a jerk.

#i genuinely haven't even thought about them in years #and now he's got me feeling insecure #i hate that #and i hate that he's like that #if “being mean is your thing” #then your thing sucks and you should get a new one #just a psa for anyone else out there who gets really bitchy when they're drunk and around friends #just like #the amount of mental energy i spend shoring up my internal defenses against unrealistic beauty standards is exhausting #as are the constant bombardments from my family #my legs are beautifully functional and i love that about them #who exactly am i trying to convince #i know my brother's a jackass why do i even care #why am i still thinking about this #god damn it

[robinsnest2111]

I really was a different beast 3 years ago. the start of the chronic pain and other mystery illness symptoms, the 1 year anniversary of my grandma's sudden death and the official start of the (still ongoing!) legal battle against my uncle over the inheritance, started and quit my first job because of the mystery illness, 6 months of being back in my childhood home where I experienced immense trauma over the years, feeling stuck and hopeless and throwing myself into traditional art and mtl at all times of the day to escape the inescapable pain, sleepless nights, and other such things

#wild shit #now i keep the same odd hours again. mostly because of the chronic pain still but also because of my working hours #really throws off your already broken internal clock when you work from 2pm to 9.30pm lmao #maybe one day i'll find out why i'm always in pain and feeling sick beyond the tired excuse of 'oh it's psychosomatic go to therapy ' #my doc told me to go find a job and the pain will be gone. but guess what i can barely do a minimum wage 3-4 days a week job #AND I AM STILL EXHAUSTED AND IN PAIN EVERY SINGLE DAY LMAO #nothing went away just because i have a job now. it actually made some of the pain worse #also getting way more wounds and bruises from things that shouldn't give a healthy human wounds and bruises haha #anyway. reminiscing tonight

[the-official-account]

A frustrating thing about cross cultural communication is, when bringing a criticism of one's culture into a conversation, the other person is not likely to have the same depth of knowledge in that specific area in their own culture, and tend to assume no problem exists at all.

I see this again and again with racism. "There is no racism in the UK", "There is no racism in the D/deaf/HOH community" the other day I dropped a potential language exchange partner for saying "there is no racism in China, it's the safest country for every type of person" and the moment I look into it, these comments are either egregiously untrue (china, and, I'd argue, the UK) or complex, but still an issue.

There is this urge when we are from a group that feels decentered from a conversation (Non-Americans on the internet at large, for example) to take on the role of expert or representative, but I really wish more people knew when to say "Maybe, maybe not, I don't know, I've never actually researched it."

#and it can be frustrating as a Black American in international conversations when people try to assign me privildge as an American™ #and not recognize the many disseperate classes that exist in america #or only validate some sort of trauma (War or immigration) and not other (domestic overpolicing or wage slavery) #because although i AM fairly ignorant of the details of how oppression manifests internationally #the sorts of people who could help awnser those questions assume arrogance or hostility #... #i dont understand why pepple assume i come with a prepackaged sense of nationalism #Or worse #assume i come with a sense of nationalism AND THEN treat critiquing the american state like it is itself a privilege #like bestie i am just some guy i promise i did not personally starve yemen #it is not noble to suffer in solidarity with other people it is noble to have gratitude and fight to give others those same comforta #and two people can have different problems at the same time #like i do strongly believe people who cant intellectualize their expirience have important things to say #but intersectionality takes work and it can be really exhausting to see hostility from the people we reach out to #cause i have seen MANY black creators observe the same thing #global citizenship is hard #lush chats

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

#this is objectively bad advice #don't listen to it protect yourself and do real work on yourself find one of the good posts i've made about this #but also. u know. if u want to have fun while u do the work of setting boundaries #.... it IS fun #i will say that my fear of him went SO down after i just started. fucking with him. #bc i used to get SO fucking upset #i'd spend WEEKS arguing with him. tearing my hair out. sick with anxiety and dread and anger about all of it #and now i just LITERALLY do not engage #instead i'm like '' haha :) mole people" and get the HELL out of any tense conversation #i kind of think some of these people are literally addicted to drama as a form of connection #they like the rush they get from arguing #but those arguments are incredibly damaging for me #so like..... i am in the process of literally rehabilitating this person to figure out how to find connection thru #NORMAL CONVERSATION #he doesn't get it yet #i also do talk to them like they're preschool kids lmafo . ''are you using a safe and kind voice right now?'' #'' do you need a snackie? you sound a little upset. let's have some hummus and come back to playtime when we feel ready''

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

#adulting #advice

[scuderiahoney]

Lavender Haze

Oscar Piastri x insomniac!reader

Masterlist / Tangerine Pt 1 / Pt 1.5 / Pt 2

Summary: Oscar can’t sleep. The two of you try to find a solution. // A continuation of Tangerine

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: well. I wrote smut. I reserve the right to delete this later if I decide it’s bad. but here you go! more tangerine verse!

Warnings: insomnia, sexual content (smut)

18+! minors do not interact! thank you

It’s a Tuesday, and Oscar hasn’t slept in nearly 48 hours. You know this because you’ve been with him for most of those 48 hours, and you also haven’t slept. That’s not that abnormal for you, but you’re unsure of how Oscar’s functioning.

He’s just finished up a meeting, and you’re wrapping up the last of your duties for the day. There’s a knock on your office door, and Lando pokes his head in with a worried look on his face.

“Hi,” he says. “Cute office. Um. I think maybe Oscar could use a ride home.”

“I’m fine,” your boyfriend calls from the hallway,

You raise your brows. Lando sighs and kicks the door open all the way. Oscar is standing behind him, leaning against the wall. His hair is fluffy and disheveled. His hands are tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. There are dark circles under his eyes. You wince.

“Thanks, babe,” Oscar says in response to the look on your face.

“Mate, you haven’t slept in two days, of course you look like shit,” Lando teases.

“You don’t look like shit,” you say, and Oscar forces a smile. “You just look exhausted.”

He was supposed to sleep on the flight back from Brazil to England. You’d stayed awake on the plane, unable to get your brain to shut off. Between the crazy schedule of the triple header, the changes in time zones, and his overall stress, Oscar had the same problem. Then, when the two of you got to his apartment, it had been impossible for him to sleep. His internal clock is all fucked up.

“I am exhausted,” he admits, rubbing at his eyes blearily. “Dunno how you do this all the time.”

He walks into your office, eyes darting around to all the corners. There are plants on the windowsill, a photo of you and Oscar in Tokyo pinned up on the corkboard. He smiles as he sits down in the chair across from your desk. Then he reaches and grabs the unopened Red Bull off your desk.

“Osc,” you scold, as Lando makes a noise of horror. “That’s the last thing you need right now.”

“I feel like a zombie,” he says.

“Right, and zombies can’t drive, so,” Lando says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.

Oscar’s keys. You know Lando’s right when he hands them to you over Oscar’s head, and Oscar tries to grab them, but he’s about ten seconds behind. It’s like his brain is buffering with an insane amount of lag. Your heart aches for him.

“Okay,” you say, closing the laptop. “I think Lando’s right. I think we should get you home.”

“I’m fine,” he says, again.

He goes to say something else but gets caught up in a yawn. You reach out and take the Red Bull from his hand. He sighs. You turn to Lando.

“I’ve got him,” you tell his teammate.

“Thanks,” Lando says, and then he disappears into the hallway.

You lead Oscar out of the office shortly after that. He asks to make a stop in the break room for coffee, and you refuse. At work, the two of you are pretty hands off with each other, trying to keep things professional. But this time you grab his wrist lightly and lead him out to the parking lot. You decide to take your car and leave his here- there’s no way you trust yourself driving his car.

Oscar is quiet on the way to his apartment. He sits in the passenger seat- an odd occurrence for him. He takes your free hand in his and knits your fingers together. You brush your thumb over his skin soothingly. Normally he’d be mentioning things on the road, or pestering you about your driving, but he doesn’t. You’re a bit worried, really.

You don’t push him on it until you’re in the elevator up to his place. “You’re quiet. You okay?”

He frowns. “I’m just… this is what you feel like. Constantly.”

You sigh, your shoulders dropping. He squeezes your hand. You nudge your shoulder against his.

“Not always,” you remind him. “I slept really well for a couple weeks there. And Friday night.”

“I was really hoping that sound machine would work,” he says with a huff.

“I know,” you murmur.

The elevator doors open for his floor, and he follows you to his flat and into the entryway. If you didn’t already know, you’d be able to tell how tired he is from the way he leaves his things haphazardly in the hallway. He kicks off his shoes in front of the door, drops his backpack on the floor next to them, and tosses his jacket further down the hall. When you turn and give him a look, eyebrows raised, he covers a yawn with his hand.

“You should eat dinner,” you suggest. You reach to brush your thumb against his flushed cheek. “Why don’t you hop in the shower and I’ll start making us something.”

Oscar sighs, takes a couple unsteady steps towards you. He holds his arms out as he leans, trusting you to catch him. You do, your accompanying laugh muffled into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and lets out a long groan.

“Or we could just go to bed,” he says, voice scratchy.

“No, you need dinner,” you insist. “And a shower.”

“What, do I stink?”

“No comment.”

Oscar laughs and pulls away. He holds you at arm’s length. “Okay. Shower, dinner, bed?”

You nod.

“What are the chances tonight?” He asks.

You sigh and shrug. “Maybe a 7?”

“Not bad,” he says. “We can work with 7.”

He’d started asking you that question shortly after you first made it official. What are the chances you can fall asleep tonight? Higher numbers are better. A one means an all nighter, likely too wound up to even sit in bed with him. A 5 means you might doze on and off, likely after he’s already fallen asleep. A ten is laying down and passing out when your head hits the pillow. None of the nights so far have been a ten.

He wanders off to go take a shower, and you head to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. You still have your own apartment, but when Oscar’s here, you stay with him pretty often. You go to the races, but often fly out on different days than him due to promo events, so the two of you take your time together when you can get it.

Luckily, he’s had groceries delivered, so there’s plenty for you to work with. You cook some pasta and heat up some garlic bread, knowing if you get him to eat anything it’ll have to be quick. Plus, warm and comforting will be good, too. You hear the shower shut off just as you’re draining the pasta. You have it all plated by the time he makes it out to the kitchen, wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

He walks over and steps up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses his face to your shoulder blade, letting out a deep sigh. You laugh and reach behind you, running your fingers through his damp hair. He makes a soft, satisfied little noise.

“Food, then sleep,” you promise.

He nods and pulls away, taking the plates to the table with him. The two of you eat quietly, his foot bumping against yours. He sits with his cheek resting on his fist, slouched over the table.

“Thanks for dinner,” he mumbles. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

You laugh and nudge him lightly with your elbow. “I know.”

After dinner, he convinces you to leave the dishes for tomorrow. He takes you by the hand and drags you to the bathroom, where you brush your teeth together. You do your skincare routines together, and then he drags you to bed. You change into pajamas while he lays down, already burying himself beneath the covers.

You fall into your normal routine. You sit down with a book and a little reading lamp, turning off the overhead lights and the lamp next to the bed. You lean against the headboard while he lays down, his head on the pillow, one arm wrapped around your thigh. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly as you read, waiting for him to fall asleep, waiting for yourself to feel drowsy.

Neither of those things happen.

You look down after two chapters. Usually Oscar’s fast asleep by now. His eyes are closed, but he keeps shifting, and his fingers are drawing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. You brush your thumb against his cheek, and he groans.

“Can’t sleep,” he says, opening his eyes and looking up at you.

You pout down at him. “D’you want me to turn the light off? I can go in the living room if you think that’d help.”

“No, the last thing I need is for you to not be here,” he says. “Just can’t get my brain to slow down.”

You hum, frowning deeper. You pinch his cheek lightly, then smooth your thumb over the spot. He crawls closer, nudging his head against your hip and letting out a deep sigh. Then he unwinds his arms from around your leg and stretches.

“It’s no use” he says, rubbing his face harshly. “I’ve developed insomnia by osmosis.”

You laugh, rubbing his back lightly. His cheek is squished against your leg, one eye closed. The other one is staring at you. You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and sigh.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe,” you say. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that’ll help. Let’s run through all the remedies, yeah?”

You drag him back out to the kitchen and start with chamomile tea. You turn on some calming music in the background, like a lullaby but for a grown man. He drinks the tea on the couch, and you sit next to him, running your fingers through his hair. It’s the best way you know to calm him. His eyelids don’t seem to grow heavy, though, so after a while you move on to the next one- warm milk and honey.

“If it’s all drinks I’m just gonna have to pee,” he says grumpily.

He’s leaning on your shoulder in the kitchen, like he can’t hold himself up. You know the feeling- your body gets heavy and tired but your mind doesn’t. So you hold onto him and will the milk to work. Of course, it doesn’t, and then you’re back to square one.

You find some lavender essential oils, buried in the bottom of your work bag. One of the reasons you hesitate to admit you have insomnia, to even call it that, is because of things like this. Everyone tries to offer you their foolproof home remedy, like you haven’t already tried all of them. But Oscar doesn’t have full fledged, capital I Insomnia, he’s just got a messed up sleep schedule, so maybe it’ll help. You tug the neck of his shirt down to rub it on his chest, and then you add some to his wrists too.

“Smells nice,” he says, softly. He blinks. “There’s lavender in your shampoo, isn’t there? Smells familiar.”

You blink right back at him. “Yeah. There is.”

It shouldn't be surprising that he recognizes the smell of your shampoo, but somehow it is. It’s endearing, sweet to think about.

The lavender doesn’t seem to help, so you move on. He’s already tried a warm shower, so that’s checked off the list, and he’s eaten warm food too. You pull him back to the bedroom and direct him back onto the bed. He lays on his stomach, which is what you were going to have him do anyways, but you make a little noise and tell him to sit up. You sit down on the bed next to him and shove at his hoodie.

“How about a massage?” You suggest.

It doesn’t take him long to take his shirt off after that suggestion. Oscar has Kim to help him stretch and loosen up during the race weekends, so you’ve never really suggested this. You wonder why you haven’t as he lays down and sighs happily. His toned back is spread out on the bed in front of you, the tan line painting a stark difference on his skin. You want to trace the outline of every muscle, but you refrain, even as he puts his hands above his head and you watch the way his arms flex. You grab some lotion, throw your leg over his hip so you’re straddling his upper thighs, and get to work.

You’re happy to have the chance to drag your hands along every inch of his skin, and it does seem to be working. That is, if the soft sighs and groans he’s letting out mean anything, or the way he begins to melt into the bed. You rub his shoulders and see the tension drain from his upper body. You press your hands into his lower spine and feel his muscles soften underneath your hands. His breaths even out and slow down.

You lean over and press a kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “s’it working?”

He sighs, and when he speaks his voice is low and raspy. “It’s not not working, but…”

You frown. “But?”

He pulls one hand down from over his head and reaches for your hand. He tilts his hips up and brings your hand down to press against his bulge, and you gasp. He’s hard, probably almost uncomfortably so. You cup him in your hand and listen to the strained sigh he lets out.

“I was trying not to,” he says, “because I was actually starting to get sleepy. But your hands feel so nice, and I could feel you moving, and-“ you interrupt him with a soft squeeze of your hand, and he groans loudly. “Fuck, baby.”

“I can help with that, you know,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’d be happy to. Thrilled, even. Who knows, maybe it’ll help you sleep.”

He muffles his laugh into the pillow underneath his head. When you tug at his sweatpants and slip your hand past the waistband, he groans out a “Please?”

He rolls over under you when you tell him to. You settle yourself back on his upper thighs, letting your eyes roam over his exposed chest. His eyes are half lidded- from drowsiness or arousal, you’re not sure. You run your hands up his sides smoothly. He lets out a whine.

“Please,” he sighs again.

“What do you want, baby?” You ask, pressing your thumbs into the jut of his hips.

He sighs and snuggles down into the bed. He’s laying on top of the fluffy down comforter, and he seems to sink into it. He blinks up at you and props his arm behind his head.

“I want you to be wearing less clothes,” he says, voice heavy with exhaustion. “And then I want you to ride me.”

Heat rolls down your spine. There’s something about sleepy Oscar that makes him loose lipped and eager to tell you exactly what it is he wants. You grin down at him as you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please,” he says again. His brows furrow into a tiny v, and his face looks strained.

You start to tug his shorts down. He sighs happily, props the other arm behind his head, too. He’s already leaking precum when he finally slips free of the confines of his clothing. You reach out, run a light fingertip up the hard line of him. He shudders underneath your touch. You lean down to press a kiss to the tip, and he yelps.

“M’not gonna last,” he says, voice already raw. “Just want you.”

It doesn’t take long, then, for you to do as he asked- lose your clothes and get on top of him. He reaches down when you straddle his waist and slips his hand between your legs, groaning when he feels how wet you are. Normally, he’d insist on giving you at least one orgasm before he even thought about getting to this point, but you know he’s exhausted and you’re aching for him already. You take his cock in your hand and guide it to your center, and his breath catches in his chest when you start to sink down on him.

You know almost immediately he’s right- he won’t last. You can feel him twitch as he bottoms out, and you watch the way his abs clench beneath you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling. His eyes are screwed shut, mouth dropped open. You could stay right here and stare at him for ages.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, already panting. “So good.”

When you start to move your hips, he starts to fall apart. His hands fall to hold onto your waist, thumbs pressing into your rib cage. You draw moans and groans out of him,echo them back to him, and practically drool at the way he arches his back and neck and rolls his head against the pillow. Everything feels so intense, like it’s all turned up a notch. You think he’s feeling it too. It’s the lack of sleep, you think, absently. You should pull all nighters together more often. You’ll tell him later.

Right now, you lean over to kiss him. His tongue is in your mouth almost immediately, messy and uncoordinated but hot nonetheless. You have your hands planted on either side of his head, and he starts to meet your hips with thrusts of his own. His hand slips between your legs again, thumb pressing at your clit, and you know you’re a goner. From the way he’s squirming underneath you, he is too.

You fall apart on top of him, your orgasm washing over you in sweet, warm waves, and you collapse into his chest when you feel him follow closely behind you, his hips bucking up against yours. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You rest your head on his heaving chest and breathe him in.

Minutes later, when you try to pull away, he wraps his arms tighter and groans. You laugh.

“Osc, I can’t stay here forever, I’m not that flexible,” you mumble. “And we should get cleaned up.”

He lets go, albeit reluctantly. When you pull away and off of him, he lets out a soft whine. You head to the bathroom, clean yourself up quickly and head back to the bedroom with a washcloth.

He’s laid out on the bed, eyes closed. “M’not asleep yet,” he mumbles. “But almost.”

You’re gentle when you clean him up, even more gentle when you tug the blankets out from under him so you can tuck both of you in. You decide clothes can be forgotten about, and you press yourself against his side. He sighs happily, wraps his arm around you, and promptly falls asleep. For once, in a strange turn of events, you follow behind him without much of a delay.

You wake up the next day in the early afternoon. You’re thankful today is a day off, meant to be a break from the insane schedule you’ve held for the last three weeks. Oscar’s off too, so even though you’re awake, you snuggle closer to him and close your eyes while you wait for him to wake up. You drift in and out of sleep, drowsy half dreams dancing behind your eyelids. It’s the kind of sleep you normally hate, but after sleeping for nearly eleven hours the night before, it’s alright.

Finally, you feel Oscar start to stir, and you know he’s fully woken up when his hand slides down your bare side, his palm landing on your hip. He sighs happily and squeezes at your skin.

“We should sleep like this more often,” he says cheekily, voice still rough with sleep.

You laugh, turning your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed. “You wanted to fall asleep inside me last night,” you say teasingly. “This seemed mild in comparison.”

“Yeah, we should revisit that sometime,” he says, pinching your hip just to hear you let out a squeak. Then he rolls towards you and wraps you up in his arms. “Good morning, love.”

“Afternoon, actually,” you mutter against his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, we needed it,” he says. “Did you sleep?”

You nod. “Passed out right after you, woke up just a little while ago.”

“Wow,” he says, in that signature tone of his. “Impressive.”

The two of you crawl out of bed eventually, heading for the shower together. He’d suggested it once in a hotel room to save time, insisting that you could both stay in bed longer if you consolidated and showered together. You’d nearly been late, but it’s become a habit since. He helps you rinse the conditioner from your hair, and you do the same for him. When you get out and wrap yourselves up in towels, he presses his nose to your hair and breathes in.

“No wonder I sleep so well when you’re here,” he says. “You’re a walking sleep remedy.”

“The lavender didn’t work on you,” you remind him.

He shrugs, dragging a towel through his wet hair. “Maybe it’s just you, then.”

You spend what’s left of the day with him, having a late lunch and then heading off for a walk in a nearby park. It’s chilly, but not unbearably so, and he holds your hand the whole way. As the sun begins to set, you head home, have a light dinner, and settle in to watch a movie. Before it’s even a quarter of the way done, Oscar starts to yawn. By the halfway point, he’s nodding off, his head on your shoulder.

You pause it. “Osc, babe, time for bed, yeah?”

He nods sleepily and curls further into you. You’re amazed by it, honestly. You don’t understand how he can be this tired already. You drag him off the couch and to the bathroom, where you both brush your teeth. Then he takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.

You know before you even lay down that you won’t be able to sleep. But you humor him anyways, because you know he falls asleep easier when you’re there. You curl up in bed with him, careful not to tangle yourself up in his limbs too much. It’ll make it easier to slip away when he falls asleep. He closes his eyes, and you run your hands through his hair and watch him fall asleep.

This is the kind of nice thing about having insomnia- you get a free pass on watching your boyfriend sleep. There’s something so endearing about it- the way any of his stress melts from his face, the soft rise and fall of his chest. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and you pull the blankets back just a little, sensing he must be warm. His hair is getting long, and it’s begun to fall in his face, so you smooth it off his forehead.

You do try to go to sleep, laying there with your eyes closed, counting sheep. But it doesn’t work, and you get antsy, your whole body buzzing with energy. So you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, leaving him behind with a soft kiss to his forehead. It almost makes you feel guilty, even though you know he understands.

You close the bedroom door and head for the living room. You put the tv on, leaving the volume low. You have specific shows that you watch when you can’t sleep. It’s not that they help, but more so that you’re watching other shows with Oscar, and you don’t want to watch without him.

You half watch the tv and half scroll on your phone. You have to be careful when you’re up this late with nothing to do- social media sucks you in, and it can be a dark spiral. You and Oscar aren’t public, in the sense that the public hasn’t figured out who you are. But they have seen pictures of Oscar with a mystery girl, and they don’t seem to like you very much. You avoid twitter at all costs.

Eventually, you get bored with your phone and reach for your book. You turn on the little lamp on the side table and start to read. Around 1am, the words begin to blur on the page. You close your eyes for just a moment, wondering if you might be able to fall asleep, telling yourself if you start to feel drowsy you’ll go back to bed. But as soon as your eyes are closed, your thoughts begin to race. You sigh and head for the kitchen.

In Oscar’s fridge, there’s a supply of tangerine Red Bulls. You’re pretty sure he got them for free, because they have Max and Checo’s faces all over them, but you’re not going to complain about it. You reach for a can and spin it in your hands, looking for the permanent marker.

Oscar understands the whole energy drink thing a bit more now, but he still worries. He’s taken to leaving you notes on the cans, because he knows you’re often reaching for them in the dead of night, when he’s asleep and unable to help quiet your mind. This one says: U SO PRETTY <3 in messy scrawl. You think Lando’s been helping him come up with them. Or Logan. You’re not sure. You smile, snap a quick picture of it, and head back to the couch. Then you settle back in for more reading.

At 2:13 am, you hear a noise from the hallway. Oscar appears in the doorway to the living room a few moments later, rubbing at his eye socket with his knuckles. His hair is in a state of complete disarray, one of the ankles of his sweatpants hiked up much farther on his calf than the other. He covers a yawn with his other hand.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” you say, softly. “It’s the middle of the night, what’re you doing up?”

He shrugs as he stumbles his way to the couch. “Woke up. Reached for you. Went, huh, not here. Came to find you.”

You laugh at his stilted sentences, and the sleep still coating his voice. He grimaces when he spots the can of Red Bull, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he collapses onto the couch, and in the process, onto you. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around you, sighing happily.

“Better,” he says. “Can I stay for a little bit?”

You laugh and kiss the top of his head. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Mm. How ‘bout forever?” He mumbles. Before you can reply, he speaks up again. “Will you read to me?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unable to wipe the silly grin off your face. “We can go to bed if you want. Just didn’t want to wake you up.”

He shakes his head and burrows closer. “S’okay. M’comfy here. And this way you have the TV.”

So you pull a blanket off the back of the couch, lay it over him, and wrap one arm around him. You try not to think too hard about the way he meets you halfway without you ever having to ask. You open the book with one hand and trace patterns on his back with the other. You read out loud, listening to the little laughs he lets out at the dialogue.

He falls asleep before you’re through a single chapter. When you realize he’s dozed off, you lay the book on his back and listen to the soft sounds of his breathing, feel the weight of him against you and the soft puffs of air that slip over his lips. You trace the shell of his ear, the line of his jaw. You close your eyes, knowing that between the insomnia and the caffeine, you probably won’t fall asleep. But for once, your mind doesn’t begin to race. You just bask in the warmth of him, and the comfort of knowing that even in the dead of night, you’re not alone.

a/n: thanks for reading! I missed tangerine!oscar tbh

taglist : @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @ggaslyp1

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 fluff #oscar piastri fluff #f1 fanfic #x reader #f1 x reader #Oscar piastri smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #tangerine!verse

[elliescumslvt]

Very Good - Ellie Williams

College AU Ellie Williams x AFAB (assigned female at birth) reader. There is no use of Y/N, or a chosen name for the reader. 3.6k words

Content includes: fingering (reader receiving), oral sex/cunnilingus (reader receiving), kissing, cursing, pet names (babe, baby, lover, love, ex), sub!reader + dom!ellie, and overall vivid descriptions of sexual activity.

The moon shone brightly in contrast to the inky sky. The light passed through the window, and lit the room a sparkly gray. I bounced my knee against the wooden desk as I rested my head against the cool surface. My eyes drooped with exhaustion as a result of my long study session. 

A loud knocking suddenly shocked me, causing my head to fly up. I begrudgingly stood up, and walked over to the door. Upon opening it, my face deepens to a blood red. 

“I need a distraction.” Ellie states, pushing past me into my dorm. She flings herself onto my bed, and pushes on her elbows to sit up. “Are you busy?”

Her words echo in my head as I bite down on my lip. Truthfully, I was behind in a few of my classes. I desperately needed to study. However, her sweet honey tone and wide begging eyes tempted me. “I’m not sure Els, I kinda need to work on more of my assignments-” Her groan cuts off my words. Brown soft strands stuck up in random directions atop her head, and her eyes now drooped with similar exhaustion to mine. My lip remains between my teeth as I turn my head away from the scene. If I had any hope of going back to studying, I could not look anywhere near Ellie. 

“But.. I need you.” Ellie begged further, her words almost coming across whiny now. Her brows furrowed together, and her eyes were no longer pleading. With lids half open and a pouty lip, Ellie made me powerless. My pulse hammered against my temples, and a rush of blood traveled to my face. I curse internally, knowing that I could not possibly say no. 

“Need me for what?” I try to play dumb, hoping that there was still some way I could get out of this. But as my eyes traveled over her outfit, I was not sure if that would even be humane of me to do. She wore a thin black shirt, decalled with a band's name I did not know. The fabric clung to her upper arms, only further displaying her muscles. Her collarbone peeked out the stretched collar, and begged to be marked with sin. Cold air blows out my burning throat as I pathetically attempt to calm myself.

Ellie’s face changes into a smirk, and it's obvious she can read my thoughts. “Come here babe, let me touch you.” Her demanding tone forces my feet to drag me over, and all of a sudden I was crawling on the bed towards her. Sage green eyes met mine in an instant, and her arms opened to invite me in. My skin trembled as I finally reached her. Hands flew to my waist, dragging me further into my company's lap. I raise my arms with hesitance, and wrap them around her neck. 

As Ellie reads my nervous expression, a brow raises inquiry. “Why are you so tense? It's just us, love.” I feel as she drags a hand slowly over my shirt before pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. We are so close that I can feel her breath against my face, and it only makes me blush more. Her hand falls back to meet the other at my waist as she whispers, “You’re so pretty when you’re flustered.” 

My heart flies into my throat, preventing me from responding. All I can manage to do is move a slight bit forward towards her. Her lips enticed me, all pink and soft. Ellie’s freckles dotted her skin like stars, only making her all the more beautiful. “I can’t help it.” I mumble, though I am barely aware that I even spoke. My thoughts were plagued with images of her lips on mine, and all over my body. 

“I know.” She chuckles, her chest rising and falling quickly with her laughter. My cheeks impossibly got darker, now a deep crimson red. Ellie notices this right away, as she knows my own body better than myself. A calloused hand moves again from off my waist, and now slides under my shirt. It moves dangerously slow, causing goosebumps to raise all over my touched skin. Her fingers glide over my stomach, the motion going straight to my core. 

“Ellie.” I breathe out, my breath wet and hot. Her existing smirk only widens, and her head tilts.

“And I thought I was the one needing you. Hm?” She teases, though her tone is warm and sultry. Her eyes bore into mine, causing a shiver to pass over my spine. My spread thighs tremble on top of hers. The warmth passing between us was making my head even fuzzier, coherent sentences becoming nonexistent. As if Ellie sensed this, she moved her lips daringly closer to mine. Just as I think she’s going to lovingly close the gap between us, she bites down on my lower lip. A whine escapes me as she does so, only fueling her further. I see sparkles shine in her pupils, her lust obvious. Her teeth now graze over the sensitive skin, pulling yet another whimper from me. Desperate for more I push my lips onto hers, the motion hurried and sloppy. I wasn’t too sure of what I was doing, since I could barely think at all. It was really pathetic how quickly Ellie could get me riled up. 

Ellie reciprocated the kiss almost immediately. Her hand resting on my stomach began to climb up my body, the heat arousing me. Rough fingers gripped at the nape of my neck, holding me still as the kiss deepened. She moved with skill, her lips perfectly mashing with mine. The embrace was slow yet sensual. Low rumbles came from her throat as her brows narrowed together in focus. My mind and hers alike were solely focused on each other. 

Struggling, Ellie ripped her lips off mine. The skin was wet and puffy, her face similar in color. Her lip quivered as if it missed mine, and she bit down aggressively on it. “Mm need you now, babe.” Her voice was deep and scratchy, sounding as if her throat dried from the loss of my body. 

I nodded enthusiastically in response, that being all I could muster. In an instant, Ellie moved to lift me off her lap, and pushed me to lay down. The bed was warming up as our bodies were, the fabric temperature only dulling my mind more. She climbed over me, and moved to straddle my waist. Her thighs melted around my sharp hip bones. They were only shielded with thin shorts, and my hands flew to grip the fabric. Her face frantically came back to mine, our lips colliding again. The kiss started fast and needy, but soon changed into something more slow and brain numbing. I tug on her shorts desperately, trying to ground my souring head. One of Ellie’s hands grasped harshly on my hip, her fingernails imprinting crescents into my skin. A pleading moan leaves me at the sinful thought of her grip creating marks. Her other hand was wrapped around my neck, not preventing me from breathing but increasing my blood flow. I took deep sharp inhales as Ellie squeezed harder. She took this opportunity to slip her tongue into my mouth. Our tongues wrapped around one another, the movement very familiar. 

“What do you need from me?” I croak out. My voice sounded whiny, and my eyes were wide and pleading. Our lips brush against each other as I speak. Our eye contact is intense, and I feel myself shrinking beneath her. 

Ellie chuckles as her hands explore my body, worshiping all of my curves. “I need to..” she pauses to lift her body off mine and blows out an exasperated breath, “Please let me taste you- you’ve been busy all week- I need it.” She takes awkward pauses as she speaks, her tone begging. Her voice sounded as if she hadn’t drunk in years, and I was the only thing which could clench her thirst. Suddenly, her fingers loop around the crown of my pants and tug on them. 

I nod frantically, unable to speak. Her face spreads into a lopsided grin, and she swiftly moves down my body. In one rough push, she separates my thighs. I whimper at the stretch, and momentarily throw my head back onto the bed in anticipation. Ellie stares intently between my thighs, and her mouth almost begins to salivate. My pants slide down over my thighs as Ellie brings them down, and the cool air hits my burning flesh. She enthusiastically pulls them from off my ankles, and tosses them somewhere on the floor. As the soft fabric hits the floor with a thump, my brain runs wild with thoughts. It was not foreign for Ellie to want to please me like this, but this time she seemed so much hungrier. 

Her starved eyes trace my thighs, her lips following in pursuit. Soft kisses press against my skin as she explores. Every freckle, every scar, and every stretch mark were being given attention. Slowly, her face moves closer and closer to where I want her most. Her expression changes into something sinister as she blows hot breath onto my panties. My neck curves backwards as I once again toss my head back. As I try to calm my rapidly moving chest, I stare at the ceiling above. However, I can distinctively imagine the smirk Ellie undoubtedly wore. 

Her hands meet with my thong, and she yanks it down my thighs. I use my legs to kick the fabric the rest of the way off, and Ellie chuckles with amusement. “Eager, are you?” Her laugh echoes inside my brain, rattling around chaotically. Her eyes trace over my features, moving tauntingly too slow down my body. They snapped to mine after a moment, and her pupils were blown. Her normal green eyes were now just a tiny sliver of iris around her enlarged pupil. Lost in a trance with her adoring glare, I fail to realize when her mouth moves down to my clit. In one long stripe, her tongue slides from my clit, down through my slit, and to my hole. The leathery muscle traces along the rim, and a low groan leaves Ellie’s lips.

“I always love when you’re on my tongue.” She confesses. This draws a small whimper from me, my eyes squeezed shut in desperation. I helplessly grind my hips downwards in a sad attempt to make contact with her tongue again. Ellie only laughs in response and the warm damp air hits my heat. “Have some patience please, Babe. I want to take my time with you. I’ve missed this.” Her needy tone adds to my pooling wetness. 

“O- Ok.” I stutter, my brain malfunctioning. I try to calm my hips, but they shake subconsciously. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I attempt to clear my fogging mind, though Ellie practically fought against my efforts. Her tongue returned feverishly, and lapped at my cavern. My hands move frantically as my body looks for something to ground myself with. They quickly find Ellie’s hair, and tug on the strands. Her auburn hair was half pulled back, though some pieces fell to frame her face. The hair ended at her shoulders with a blunt cut. Her eyebrows matched the rest, now wrinkled together as her face was buried between my legs. Calloused hands grip onto my thighs, the plush skin melting between her fingers.  

My fingers tighten around her hair as her mouth travels higher. She licked my clit repeatedly, her effort never wavering. I feel as my thighs try to pull back together, caging her head. One of her hands on my thigh harshly spread it open to give her more access. A small gasp passes past my lips as Ellie’s other hand moves to my core. One long finger circles around the rim, almost as if she was teasing me. I whimper as a plea, however she roughly pulls away tongue and all. 

“I said be patient.” Ellie demands with a cold scowl. Her palms pushed down on my hips, preventing me from obtaining any self inflicted pleasure. My body writhes from loss of stimulation, and a groan deep from my throat escapes. Ellie’s expression remains unmoving, and she does not move. My breathing increases in speed, as I begin to panic. My senses were abruptly met with absence, and the sensation was uncomfortable. 

As if Ellie sensed this uncomfort, her hands begin to gently caress my thighs, Her expression morphs into a more caring one as she keeps moving to soothe me. A warm tingle passes over my spine, effectively calming my frantic stature. “Shh everything is okay. I’ll take care of you, alright Babe?” Her loving words smooth the goosebumps on my thighs, and the muscles stop spasming. Ellie’s lips stretch into a wide smile as she sees my calm demeanor. She leans down to lay a kiss on my thigh, and then rests her head on the plump skin. Her eyelashes tickle my skin, causing me to quietly giggle. If even possible her smile brightens more, lighting up the entire dorm. The setting sun shines warm yellow rays through the windows. However, the sun could never brighten my world as well as Ellie’s smile could. 

“I love you, remember? I just want you to feel as much pleasure as possible.” She mumbles into my thigh. Her eyes looked up at my face, and I could clearly see her pupils searching sporadically to understand how I was feeling. The freckles which scattered her skin stood out against the smooth skin of my thigh, only making her appear more ethereal. 

I take a deep inhale, fully stretching my lungs. The air flows from my lips as I exhale, and ruffles Ellie’s hair. “I know.” I breathe out, my lungs now exhausted. Ellie quickly sits her body up, and kisses my lips. It is short and sweet, a strong contrast to earlier. She ended the kiss as soon as she started to feel it increase with intensity. Her lips stretch to smile as she lowers her head back down towards my center. 

I gasp out as one of her fingers press against my entrance. She moves carefully as she inserts a digit, allowing my body to stretch with the intrusion. My walls fluttered around the warm perpetrator. I look down to see Ellies’ eyes wide open. Her pupils swelled as she realized just how wet I was. Already a single finger was sliding easily, her knuckles hitting my sensitive folds. 

Ellie understood my body far past what I could understand, so she knew I was ready. Another digit presses against my somewhat widened cavern. It slides in next to the other finger, my wet slick allowing the process to be painless. I groaned out into the air as my back arched, and my knees rose. My head falls back onto the bed, and pushes up my neck and shoulders. Ellie saw this and began to slowly scissor her fingers. The digits would push apart to stretch my walls, before meeting back together. She repeats this process for just too long, and I begin to whimper. Her smile transforms into a smirk, and she finally begins to finger my arching core effectively. The fingers slide in and out with a steady speed, and they curl to rub the spongy area of the flesh. I cry out and frantically move my hands to grip Ellies’ hair again for stability. My hips rock rhythmically with hers, but this time she allows such. As her fingers dig deeper, the curling presses against my sweet spot harsher. My breathing increases as the pleasure invades all my sensations. 

Without warning, Ellies’ tongue returns to my clit. The muscle circles the pulsing mound feverishly, successfully dragging a loud whine out of my throat. My hand grips on the tiny pony tail of her half-up-half-down even harsher. However, the girl between my legs seems to give no care. If anything this devilish pain fueled her actions even further. The fingers inside me slow down, but now slide deeper into my core. Her digits still for a moment, then the tips start to swipe over my sweet sponge repeatedly. My hips uncontrollably seize away, but Ellie is quick to slam them back down. The hand not being used to plow me grabs my ass, and fondles the skin. I clamp down on my lip in hopes to muffle my pathetic whimpers. However my efforts are useless as the sound of wet sliding fills the room. As I try to center my focus, my teeth grind on the fragile feature. 

I release my lip as Ellie unexpectedly drags her tongue through my folds. She laps up the arousal and groans. One thing I could never be insecure about is Ellie eating me out. She constantly ensures me that she finds pleasure and enjoyment in the action, possibly even more than I did. It was not uncommon for my lover to barge into my dorm to demand intimacy.

My mouth falls open and desperately brings air to my lungs. The organs cause my chest to rise and fall just as frantically as they were. Ellie undoubtedly notices, and takes it as a sign to pleasure me more intensely. Her tongue muscle works hard to slide up and down my slick, and occasionally spin around my clit. My walls shake deliciously with every pressured stroke. The bedding now envelops me in an overwhelming warmth, the heat from our bodies changing the temperature. Yet in contrast my skin erupts in goosebumps. Every nerve tingles in a mind numbing pleasure. My core muscles contract, which pressurizes the growing pit in my stomach. Ellie tilts her eyes up from my lust to watch my stomach spasm with a wicked grin.

Her tongue pressed flat against my clit for a moment to say; “Come on Baby, make a mess on my fingers.” Her sensual words fly straight to my sex, causing the attentive flesh to pulse more rapidly. Ellies’ tongue teasingly flicks my clit, some drops of saliva and arouse propelling into the damp air. The fingers inside me move with the intent to drag an orgasm from me. The tips caress my skin quicker. This sensation becomes entirely overwhelming, along with the attention being given to my clit. A pressure grows substantially within my stomach, and threatens to explode. Ellies’ eyes flutter close and my skin vibrates as she moans against it. Her brows are furrowed in concentration as she begins to drag me over the edge.

The throbbing, tingling pressure in my arousal intensifies as my core snaps. A full body sensation travels over me, blocking my system from experiencing any other feeling. My back arches higher, and my thighs clash together. Ellies’ auburn locks get tousled as her head is crushed between my thighs. My clit feels electrified, and my nipples harden. My breasts stretch with my back, which makes my buds buzz with static delight. I taste Ellies’ spit from when her tongue was in my mouth instead of torturing my clit. My sight is blinded as my eyes squeeze shut. My lovers’ hair is yanked once more, this time harsher than the others. 

Ellies’ eyes remain close, and sweet enticing moans leave her soft plush lips. She drinks the lust spilling from my cavern with joy. Her facial muscles release their tension and relax as her tongue works to not miss a single drop of my orgasm. 

I moan in ecstasy. She had made me cum countless times, however this time infected my senses stronger than any other. My thighs violently quiver around Ellies’ head, though she makes no effort to escape. Her tongue still moves to happily swallow my arousal. The reddened flesh now hums with a simmering sting. I attempt to pull her away by tugging on her locks more aggressively, but she doesn’t move. My nerves scream with overstimulation and loud guttural groans bounce about the dorm. I release a hand from her hair, and it shakes as I move it towards her shoulder. I tap the freckled skin twice, and Ellie immediately pulls her face away from my heat. Her chin drips with evidence of my orgasm, and her shiny lips reflect the light of a lamp in the room. My eyes snap to hers and her love for me is obvious. Her pupils consumed the iris, and the skin around them was softened and relaxed. I watch her lashes brush against her lids as she stares up at my lustful face. I can feel the heat in my face, primarily in my cheeks. 

Her hands leave their current positions on my body, and are placed down on my thighs. The skin twitches occasionally, but the nerves have mostly calmed down. Her thumbs stroke atop some of my stretch marks with a soft kindness. “How was I?” She inquires, and the usual cockiness in her tone is absent. Her eyes traveled over my face, trying to understand how I was feeling before I was able to say. 

My exhausted body is limp on the bed. I can just see Ellie in my sight, as my head was barely propped up by the disheveled comforter. The hand still in her hair slowly slides down her neck and to her hand. I interlock our fingers lazily, my grip loose and relaxed. “Very good.” I emphasize while my expression morphs into a warm smile. 

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #the last of us #smut #lesbian pride #wlw #wlw smut

[kissitbttr]

miguel getting mad because you keep waking him up.

i’d think that he won’t get mad mad. because he loves his darling too much to make her upset🥹

-

he sighs in frustration as his eyes become wide eyed open. can’t seem to fall asleep anymore now that you keep poking him everywhere.

“what is it this time, baby?” he calls you by one of your favorite pet names although he feels rather annoyed at you for disturbing his peace. “it’s close to 1 am. go to sleep.”

he tries to tell you as calmly as possible, obviously irritated but not to the point where he’d snap at you. he’s too much of a gentleman to do that.

you prop yourself on of your elbows, the strap of your midnight blue dress slips a bit. “do you love me, miggy?”

he frowns, turning around to look at you. “you woke me up for that shit?”

with a small pout, you pretend to look sad. eyes casting down to your fingers. “i didn’t hear a yes…”

“dios mío” he mutters, palms running over his tired face as his head shakes at your childish—but cute—behavior. “yes of course i love you, mi amor. i’d tear down the sky and would fucking kill for you. why are you even asking me a stupid question?”

you shrug your shoulders as you smile. feeling your cheeks warm at his response. “nothing, solo me preguntaba.”

“okay, anything else?”

the smile disappears from your face as a frown soon replaced it. “why the fuck do you sound like that? am I annoying to you?”

“Jesus Christ, woman! I do not sound annoyed” he whispers yell, finding it hard to believe that the two of you are basically arguing about this in the middle of the night,

“nunca podrías molestarme, mi vida” his cold fingers reaching up to graze lightly against your soft cheek, internally relieve that you quickly melt into his touch. “you will most definitely be the death of me but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

your heart tugs at that, softly biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the smile that’s itching to make an appearance.

“i love you, Miguel.” you respond. “you’re it for me. i just know it.”

he grins widely, folding his arm behind his head as he admires every single detail of your beauty. your pretty eyes, your nose, your gorgeous gorgeous smile that could make anyone fall into their knees. the way your hair falls perfectly against your shoulder.

you’re it for him too. he believes that.

“i love you more, darling” he whispers softly. “now can we get back to sleep? I’m really really exhausted.”

you nod, moving a bit closer to his body and making yourself comfortable. “of course, baby. I’m sorry for waking you.” you rest your head against his bare chest, fingers tracing circles on it because you know how much he loves it,

he shakes his head in disapproval. “nothing to apologize, mi amor. now go to sleep.” he kisses the crown of your head as you slowly fall into a deep sleep. soft heavy breathing of yours is the only thing that fills up the room that night,

miguel feels his heart is full. a grateful smile seems to never leave his face as he hold his woman close to him.

soon as he realizes you’re finally asleep, Miguel turns his head towards the bedside table, hand reaching out behind a lamp as he blindly searches for one of the most important thing in his life that will change his future.

a small sigh of relief escapes his mouth as he finally grasps it in his palm. the small red velvet box that he has been hiding for months.

he carefully flicks it open and the beautiful encrusted diamond ring is secured. not a single scratch or defect is yet to graze it.

Miguel tends to imagine what it’s like to have a family with you. because the two of you have talked about it before, and no one is more excited and eager than he is.

he carefully sets it back to its hidden place after closing it back. a place where he knows for sure you won’t find it.

he really can’t wait to marry you.

#anon #answered #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff

[starvity]

— ☆ sides zb1 only show when they’re with you

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: insecurities, jealousy, a bit angsty for gyuv and yujin

author’s note: this was such an interesting request and i had so much fun thinking about what to put for each member!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong - his funny side

okay i’m not saying jiwoong isn’t funny usually but he would be the FUNNIEST when he’s with you. he's most of the time someone kind of serious and reserved in public settings but then he would suddenly whisper a funny comment (that only you heard) and you would have to fight internally to not burst out laughing. some other time, you’re just getting ready to sleep, already cuddled up in the blanket while waiting for jiwoong, when his silly side would appear. like he would be brushing his teeth then he would start running around and doing some handstands on you idk???? he’s just a silly guy

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao - his protective side

hao loves himself a good princess treatment. he would always use his puppy eyes to get whatever he wants from you and you both know it, that you can never win. and that dynamic works for your relationship!! but then sometimes you appear in front of hao looking a bit more tired, stressed, or sick than usual and it’s like something switches in his brain. he will treat you like absolute royalty, that being by doing the chores, giving you a massage, cooking for you, cuddling with you? ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! that always happens when you’re away from him too, walking home or coming back late from a party. he will come pick you up whenever he can or at least ask you to facetime him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin - his jealous side

i am certain that not a single person on this planet can dislike this man. he is loved by everyone and everyone knows him. when you two go out on a date he would usually be the one to meet like 5 of his friends on the way. but today it was your turn to randomly meet one of your old high school friends in a store. naturally, they come to hug you and keep an arm around your waist while you two catch up on each other’s life. suddenly, you feel hanbin’s arm slide around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "i’m their boyfriend, by the way." he says, with a smirk on his face and his eyes turning dark.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew - his insecure side

matthew is your biggest fan. he will always hype you up, telling you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person he’s ever met. he will brag about you to his friends and talk about you to his family all the time. but when you do the same for him, he immediately gets shy, saying that it isn’t true and that you’re doing too much. you frown, repeating that he’s just perfect and he shakes his head again. you cup his jaw with your hands to make him look at you. "you.are.amazing.matt." you repeat, kissing his lips between every word. he lowers his gaze, a pinkish color settling on his cheeks "you really think so?"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae - his calm side

dating taerae can be a bit exhausting sometimes (especially if you’re introverted) because this man YELLS. like it’s not even that he does it on purpose most of the time, he just has a really prominent voice. he would be playing video games online with his friends and he wouldn’t even hear how loud he is screaming because of his headphones. you throw a pillow at him, monitoring a "silence" motion with your index finger as you were trying to take a nap. after mouthing a sorry, taerae delicately turns off his computer, puts his headphones aside and takes his guitar before sitting next to you on the bed. he strokes your hair, apologising with now the calmest voice before he starts singing you to sleep with his sweet voice.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky - his attentive side

you don't even try to figure out what's on ricky's mind sometimes. he would start talking about some random subject, then starts talking about another, then another... he himself would be distracted with his own words when he's talking to you that he would need to get quiet, blink a few times and let out a "what?" before laughing and trying to focus again. he can be easily distracted but he is also really observant, especially around you. one day he started talking about all the little habits you have that he finds endearing and you realised that you weren't even aware that you had half of these.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin - his serious side

one thing about gyuvin is that he's always going to make fun of people. and you being his partner gets the WORST treatment. he was on his phone when he suddenly laughs, shoving it in your face. you were horrified when you saw the ugliest picture of you sleeping and started begging him to delete it. he continues laughing as you try to snatch the device out of his hands but, again, he was too tall. without even you knowing, tears roll down your cheeks and the expression on gyuvin's face completely changes. he takes you in his arms, stroking you back and apologising over and over again. later in the evening, you two had a deep conversation and he asks to set boundaries because he never wants to hurt you ever again. (he won't stop making fun of you though, as far as you allow him <3)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook - his cute side

mister giant baby thinks that his role is to protect you no matter what. he thinks he always need to be tough, and that you're probably just dating him to open jars and carry heavy stuff for you??? "can i be the big spoon today?" you ask, opening your arms for gunwook who had just showered after coming back from practice. he looks at you confused, at first disapproving because blah blah he's the big boy here before sighing and placing his head on your chest. you suddenly see his eyes soften at the sudden contact as you pull him closer. gunwook hums contently and closes his eyes. "not so bad , after all?" you chuckle while stroking his cheek with your thumb. "shut up~" he whines in a cute voice, hiding his face in your neck.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin - his emotional side

you know that it is not easy to read yujin like an open book. and since he's also pretty new to the whole relationship thing, he finds it quite hard to express his emotions, especially around you. you were studying in yujin's room while he was practicing his vocals in the bathroom (the acoustic is good, apparently). and you were so focused on studying for your next test that you didn't hear nor see the door open a minute ago. "can i talk to you?" yujin's voice startles you from across the room and you gulp nervously, inviting him to sit next to you. he suddenly leans his head on your shoulder and your hand naturally comes up to pet his head. "i feel like i haven't been doing really good lately, with my vocals and dancing... and like i don't know if i'm even good enough..." you listen attentively to his worries and reassures him that he's doing great and that you're proud of him. (might have teared up a little).

#starvity.text #zerobaseone #zb1 #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone texts #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fluff #zb1 reactions #zb1 drabbles #zb1 texts #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop texts #kpop drabbles

[remlionheart]

Split Decision

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.

You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.

The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.

You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.

It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.

That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.

Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.

You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.

A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.

"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."

A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"

Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.

The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."

The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.

You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.

You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.

After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.

They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.

Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.

But you weren't going to settle for either.

As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.

Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.

You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.

The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.

A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."

But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.

A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"

"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"

Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."

"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."

It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.

"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."

"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."

Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."

"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.

He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.

A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.

You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.

"My room or yours?" You asked.

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The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.

Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.

You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.

He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.

There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"

You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.

"Fuck."

It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.

Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.

Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.

"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."

"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.

Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.

"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"

His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.

"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.

"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.

He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.

You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.

You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.

"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.

"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.

"Can you bend over f'me?"

You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.

Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.

"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"

As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."

Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.

He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.

Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

"Be easy on her," he warned him.

You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"

Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.

His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.

"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.

Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.

You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.

Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.

Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"

"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.

You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.

Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.

Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"

You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."

Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."

Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.

Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"

"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."

Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.

Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.

Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."

You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.

"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.

Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.

"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."

"Dazai, I swear to god -"

But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.

"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."

Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.

He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.

You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.

"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."

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#i wrote this in a DAY someone pls take my laptop away #rem writes #soukoku #soukoku x reader #dazai smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd