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luv4georgie · 1 day

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101 dalmatians.

unknown!Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

in which here are a few special moments between young married couple, Oscar Piastri, Y/n Y/l/n and their dogs, Pongo and Perdita.

prompt list

warnings: fluff!!!

walkies. 1 (Pongo POV)

i lived in an old flat in London with my pet, Oscar. although Oscar was Australian we lived in London, he wanted to live here because he thought it was more ‘calming’ and it could be better to pursue his music. Oscar loves playing instruments and singing and writing songs. he wrote songs and lyrics about romance which he new absolutely nothing about. he was a rather handsome man in my case. i just don’t know why he couldn’t find such an attractive mate.

it was 11:00am and Oscar was playing away at the keys on his piano. by the look on poor Oscar’s face, it wasn’t going too well. i was laying on the couch near the window, my head slightly sticking out of it. my eyes wandered as i looked for a lovely young dog with a pet to soothe mine’s loneliness.

my eyes followed a small pug with her head stuck up, her pet looked the exact same. a too short couple, i thought but no, not for Oscar. next i saw a rather fancy breed, a poodle with her head held high, a beautiful trim and a pink bow sat on the neatly kept curls on her head, her pet looked unusually the same as well, nope not Oscar’s type. an old Shih Tzu with her pet, an extremely young Labrador with an extremely young pet. it was a problem, a real problem. but then… well! i do say. the most beautiful creature on four legs. a Dalmatian, just like me. now if only the girl… well! she’s very lovely too!

they were heading for Regent’s park, a perfect meeting place. oh… but Oscar never stops work until after 5, it’ll be to late. but what if… i took my snout and moved the hand over to 5:15. perfect! i barked until Oscar noticed me. i took my red leash in-between my teeth and barked once more. Oscar looked at me, then the clock, then at his watch. he stretched and groaned “after five already?” he asked himself. he changed the time on his watch and stood up. “well then Pongo boy, we best get going” he clasped my leash onto my collar and we were off.

i practically dragged Oscar down the stairs and out the door. i strode down the paths of Regents park, passing multiple dogs i had seen before. i was starting to lose hope. but then i found them. sitting on a bench in-front of a pond. i strode down the path in-front of the woman and her dog. the girl looked up at us a few times. Oscar sat on the grass. i needed to stir up some sort of attention. i took Oscar’s hat off of his head and placed it on the seat next to the pair. and for some odd reason, they left! i tried to follow but Oscar clipped the leash onto my collar. but u still dragged him away. ah-ha! there they were, once Oscar was on his feet, i wrapped my leash around the woman’s legs. they both fell in the water, but, they laughed, and that’s when i knew. they loved each-other and i loved Perdie.

Cruella De-Vil. 2 (Y/n POV)

i was sat on mine and Oscar’s shared couch. me and him were married for about 6 months now. Nanny, our house-keeper brought out our tea and some muffins. “thank you Nanny. Oscar dear! tea-time!” i shouted up to Oscar who was practicing the melody for his new song. it was a rather nice melody, but it just needed some lyrics. Oscar came down and danced around with Pongo, humming his song. my hand covered my mouth as i laughed. then we heard an all-familiar honk of a car. Cruella. Cruella and i went to school together, years ago but we were still friends.

it looked as though Oscar’s ears pricked up at the sound. “oh that must be Cruella. your dearly devoted old friend” Oscar smirked narrowing his eyes at me. he new how much of a self-obsessed person Cruella was. they despised eachother. “Cruella De-Vil. that’s it!” Oscar said again. my eyebrows bunched together. “Cruella De-Vil… Cruella De-Vil… if she doesn’t scare you” he started singing. jumping in-front of me as i headed for the window to see if it was really her. “no evil thing will!” he sung. “oh Oscar!” i said as i swatted his chest playfully. “to see her is to take a sudden… chill!” he carried on. as he sung i felt a finger run up my back and i shouted in surprise. “Cruella, Cruella De-Vil” he stopped, sneaking up to the attic to where he was practicing.

“let her in Nanny!” i shouted as Oscar played the melody loudly. before Nanny could open the door Cruella barged in and walked hurriedly to the living room. “Y/n darling!” she practically screamed. “hello Cruella” she wondered around the first floor of the small house. “where are they? for heaven’s sake where are they?” she shouted repeatedly. “who Cruella?” “the puppies of-course” “they’ll be at-least 3 weeks” i giggled. “would you like some tea?” i asked. “no darling! i’ve got to run! just tell me as soon as the puppies are here!” she boomed with her loud voice as she took off out the door. “goodbye” i said. i flopped down on the couch with a loud sigh. Oscar came down singing again. “you’re no help” i said as i pushed him out of my face, taking me with him.

Oscar spun me around as we danced to his song. we laughed and danced. then we just looked into each-other’s eyes as Pongo barked and jumped around with us. we backed up against a wall and Oscar snuggled his face into my cheek and kissed it. we giggled. “oh you really are an idiot” i chuckled. “i love you” he whispered. “i love you too” then we just stayed there for a few moments, smiling at each-other.

should i do a part 2??? thanks for reading and sorry it’s so short!!! ❤️❤️❤️

#Spotify #f1 #f1 x reader imagines #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #nolan hansen #cl16 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #landoscar x reader #101 dalmatians

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taesanluv3r · 2 days

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lost in love songs.

han taesan x reader

a short, three part, friends to lovers story.

ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.

part two: about a girl.

reader goes through an overwhelming amount of emotions (shes crying 😿), some cuss words, myung jaehyun (reader's older brother) comforts her <3 lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy :3

wc: 2,009

masterlist 𖦹 part one 𖦹 part three

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"damn, can't believe that dork writes songs about my loser sister…i say we give it a little listen and-"

jaehyun's words are interrupted, "get out of my room" yn says sternly, a finger pointing out the opened door and her face dead serious. her brother rolls his eyes, "whatever, i'll leave you to it i guess. weirdo…maybe you two are meant for each other" the girl flips him off, climbing off of her bed to forcefully push her annoying sibling out the door, slamming it shut behind him. she sighs, turning back around and staring intently at the silver device that remained on her white bed-sheets. her stomach hurts as she sits down beside it, her heart pounding straight out of her chest, though she doesn't know why. yn takes a deep breath as she holds her friend's ipod in her hands, the size of it unfamiliar to the girl who was so used to her larger phone. the wired earphones were tangled and grey from how worn out it was, she hesitates for a moment, wondering if it were really a good idea to be listening to the song her friend made a point to keep hidden from her. but it was right there, staring at her with her name written on it, literally. yn scoots, her back making complete contact with her pillows, a fluffy cloud-shaped plush toy sandwiched between her chest and her knees. she sticks an earphone into her left ear, beginning to do the same on the other side when the ping of her phone stops her. turning over to the device, she blinks slowly at the contact name on her screen.

han taesan.

she watches from afar as countless texts and a few missed calls came in, her arm reaching out to grab her phone. yn contemplates for a moment, his urgent warnings forming a sense of hesitance as she falls into a dilemma. once again, she sighs, turning her phone on do not disturb, ignoring the guy's begs and pleas before she averts her attention back to the ipod nano. blocking out all outside noise, the other side of his earphones find place in her right ear, a finger grazing against the white buttons that decorated the silver music player. yn exhales, finally pressuring the tips of her nail, pushing play on the very first track,

'about a girl.'

the name directly stolen from a song by his favourite rock band, the girl fully expects her friend's usually grunge-y sound. however, yn is taken by surprise when a soft guitar acoustic hits the surface of her eardrums instead. the rhythm of the track almost as sweet as the lyrics that he begun to sing. taesan's voice is smooth like butter, matching perfectly with the rather simple strumming pattern of the stringed instrument. being fully produced in his bed-room on a cheap microphone he got at the thrift shop, the girl finds herself smiling slightly at the shuffling sounds she could still hear in the background, breath hitching when she finally processed the words.

i listen to love songs in hopes they come true. i listen intently to conversations with you. my mind turns into mush and i can't seem to speak. in seconds i'm out, the door shuts with a creak. i could talk about her for hours on end, i could talk with her, or maybe not, it depends. cause she drives me insane, and i've got worms for a brain. and i can't get her out of my head.

the girl doesn't know what to think. it just all sounds so…foreign. the taesan she knew never wrote songs like this, or at least none that she knew of. the shy and reserved boy would never be caught dead showing this much emotion in real life, his honey-like voice fades out as the instrumental gets louder, giving the girl a moment to think. a million questions swarm into her head. he wrote this song…for her? she's lost in the music for a moment, her mind racing as she goes through about a billion thoughts per second. her heart fluttering at the very idea of this whole thing- i mean, it was as if all those romantic dreams she's had were finally coming true. a whole song written for her? frankly, the girl was on cloud 9. yet still, yn can't help but doubt herself, does he really feel this way for her? her best-friend since middle school? the ever so introverted han taesan who's never even spoken of love, this is him? as the questions swim through her brain, his soft singing wakes her up again.

this girl that i know, she's a girl that i like. but she won't feel the same, i don't know though, she might. i just can't, and i won't, let her know how i feel. i fear it might slip and it'll all become real. for my mouth only speaks around her, and my mind only thinks about this girl.

after another beat or two, he sings the final words of his love song,

still, you drive me insane. and i've got worms for a brain. think i might like you more than a friend.

with that, the first track in the two-song playlist comes to an end. the room is silent, the only thing she could hear was the quiet sound of her deep breaths. yn's mouth hangs open, her body freezing up like she had just been transported to the arctic without shelter. she doesn't even want to listen to the other song, in fear it'd make her heart beat faster than this one did. unconciously, a single tear begins to run down her cheek. "i know you said to go away but mom's asking what you want for dinner" the sound of her older brother's voice shakes her out of the daze, her eyes blinking rapidly as her head turned towards the door. "are…are you crying?" jaehyun asks, eyes widening as he began to walk over to where she sat on the bed, taking a seat beside her. "i…" she starts but doesn't continue, not really knowing what she was going to or even wanted to say. "so…you listened to that song, huh?" the boy asked, his features softening at the sight of his tearful sister who looked…well, lost.

she nods slightly, "just…just the first one" she mumbles, gulping all too loudly as her hand moves up to wipe at the tears that stained her blushed cheeks. "so? does he like you, or what?" jaehyun's question comes out a bit rushed, like he was impatient to know. "i…i don't know" and before they knew it, the girl had broken down into tears again. she still didn't know why though, the lyrics of her friend's song was nothing but sweet. however, the truth about the feelings he had, the ones he must've been keeping from her this whole time…it made the myung girl overwhelmed, not really knowing how she had to react. "hey, don't cry" her brother coos, a hand stiffly patting against the small of her back as she sobs into her hands. "yn…i know you hate it when i tease you but, don't you think it's obvious he's always liked you?" she lifts up her head, fully looking at her older sibling with confused eyes. "and don't lie, yn. we all know you're a terrible liar. i can tell by the way you smile when you mention him, i can tell by how annoyed you get over silly things about him that you, whether you like it or not, you're just in love as he is" jaehyun lets out a breath after talking too fast, his lips pursed into a line as he hits his sister with the reality of her feelings, and her best-friend's.

"but…" she starts again, stuttering as the salty taste of her own tears managed to seep into her mouth that started to feel a little dry. "but what if it's all a misunderstanding? i mean, what if i got it all wrong? what if this ruins our relationship forever? i shouldn't have…i shouldn't have listened to this. i-" the rambling girl gets cut off, "yn!" jaehyun's voice is louder by a decibel, his hands pressed firmly against his shaking sister's shoulders. "yn, look. there's only one way to find out. and you and i both know that things will only get weird if you don't talk to him about this, right?" the myung girl sighs, nodding at him, a grateful look on her face for her older brother and his big heart- even if he bullied and teased her half the time. "you're right…" another ping grabs their attention away from each other and over to the phone she had tossed to the other side of the bed. "i think that's him…" jaehyun smiles softly at his love-sick little sister, reaching to pass the phone over to her before patting her back lightly. "talk to him, yn. tell him the truth. what's the worst that could happen, right?" he says, earning a half-assed smile in return from the girl.

"besides, he did write love songs dedicated to you- something tells me you two are going to be just fine"

the boy gets off of the bed, "i'll tell mom you're not hungry yet. let me know if you need anything, okay? and if it is all a misunderstanding, which i doubt it is, i'm only a call away and i'll fight the guy for you!" the last part makes the girl giggle, breaking away from her somber state for a moment, rolling her eyes as the older sibling began showing off his non-existent arm muscles. he shot her a quick good luck before he was out the door again. leaving myung yn alone, alone with the thousands of messages and calls from a panicked han taesan.

emo loser (taesan) yn, whatever you do DO NOT touch my ipod. yn answer my calls!!!! yn please. yn, don't do it. it's too late isn't it? yn… i'm sorry.

the girl can't help but feel sick, the guilt of it all making her stomach turn and her heart to swell in pain. she takes a deep breath, the ticks on the bottom right of his messages turning blue, signifying that she had finally read them.

emo loser (taesan) you listened to them, didn't you?

yn's breathing gets heavy and fast, her fingers trembling as she began to type out a response.

i need to talk to you.

she bites her lip, nervously watching as the three dots appear then disappear on his end of the chatroom, like he had started to type but stopped half way through. yn shuts her eyes, opening them to stare at the ipod nano that had turned itself off at some point before. her gaze is turned back to the phone in her hands when he finally texts her back.

emo loser (taesan) meet me at the playground tomorrow? i have so much to say you'll listen right?

yn smiles softly, a sudden feeling of warmth engulfing her previously frozen body. she nods to herself, fingers hovering over the digital keyboard.

tomorrow at 1?

this time, he texts back almost immediately.

emo loser (taesan) i don't think i can wait that long meet me there at 10 unless you're still sleeping, lazy ass.

the boy's teasing joke, after the whirlwind of emotions she had just gone through, comforts her a little. suddenly, the girl feels confident that her brother was right and that they'd be okay after all.

see you at 10 then, weirdo

the conversation ends there. yn hides under her covers that night, her stomach empty though she didn't feel the need to eat, and her body exhausted though she couldn't seem to sleep. she's still in disbelief. the sound of his voice playing over and over again in her head all night. the lyrics tattooed onto her brain as she finds herself lost.

lost in the love song he wrote for her.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

first of all tysm for 100 followers !!! HEHEHEHE taesan straying away from his usual emo grunge music to write secret love songs for yn 😿 featuring the lyrics that i wrote myself <3 THOUGHTS??? reblogs n feedbacks are highly appreciated!! send me an ask, let's talk abt this 💭 see u guys in the final part!! love, kona.

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #taesan #taesan x reader #boynextdoor taesan #bnd taesan #han dongmin #han taesan #bnd x reader

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 days

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Congratulations on the milestone! You more than deserve it, such a talented writer!

I'd like to request a fic for your event. It's been a song stuck in my head for days, "The Alcott" by The National, and the character being Hunter. It's such a beautiful song and I can't wait to see how you interpret it with his character!

Thank you in advance, keep being awesome!

~🥀

Awwww @royalthunderbird that's so sweet of you!

I really hope you enjoy how I interpreted this song. It almost caught me off guard, but I was quite happy with how it turned out. Love The National and I've never heard this song before, so thank you for introducing it to me.

Love oo.

The Alcott

Warnings: Yo-yo relationship, food, declaration of feelings, angst, fluffish. I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

You hadn’t planned on meeting Hunter, well… at least not this time.

Both of you had been on again, off again so many times it was starting to give you whiplash. Yet, you couldn’t help it. He called and despite how many times you tried to argue, tried to justify not going, you still showed up.

So there you were in the back of Dex’s Diner, waiting for him while you worked on your next article for HNE. You wrote in your golden notebook, writing out relevant dates and information that you’d need to look into later.

“You want something honey?”

You looked up to the waitress droid smiling, “Thanks Flo, could I get a Jamba Juice?”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

You watched her roll away as you focused back on the task at hand.

Hunter stood outside the diner, just out of your line of sight. He leaned against the concrete building beside him, just watching you. The way you fiddled with the pen in your hand, the way it tapped against your lip, even the way you chewed on the end. A habit you’d been trying to break ever since the first time he met you.

He let out a light sigh, Maker, you were still so beautiful. You had that smile on your lips, the one that you always wore.

There was a time when you two first started going out, he asked why you always wore a smile on your face, you simply shrugged and said, “Why not? A lot of people are either having bad days or just haven’t had any sort of kindness in their life. If I can give them a little peace with a smile, then why not?”

He didn’t have a response to that; he just knew he fell in love with you at that moment.

All he wanted to do was walk up to you, kiss you with all the passion his heart contained for you. To make you his once again, yet … he let out a breath shaking his head. He’d done this to you once too often, starting something only for either his job or yours to get in the way.

The first time you two broke up, it was a misunderstanding between the two of you, both failing to recognize how you each felt about the other.

The second time you broke up, it was because Crosshair implied you were only using Hunter to get classified information on the GAR.

The third time was because he misunderstood your relationship with an informant when he saw you holding their hand, simply because you were trying to console them.

Hopefully, this time … this time he could just be honest and tell you without regrets what he wanted. What he’s always wanted.

He took a deep breath and righted himself, wiping off any visible dust, before he headed inside.

You jotted down a few more names, as you were now on a roll with your research, questions that popped up that didn’t make sense, answers that were needed.

“H-hi cyare.”

You slowly lifted your head with a smile on your face as soon as you heard his voice, “Hey handsome. You’re late.”

He nodded as he sat, taking off his helmet and placing it on the table beside him, “Yeah, we ran into a little bit of trouble.”

“Oh! Anything good?” You teased as you smiled at him.

“Hmm, yes and no. More of the fact that our aggressive negotiations took longer than expected.”

“Ahh, did they have better weaponry than you?” You wiggled your eyebrows, putting away your notebook and datapad, back into your satchel.

“Sweetheart, you should know, no one has better weaponry than me.” He smirked as he looked at you.

You giggled as you nodded, “True. So…” you stopped fidgeting and focused solely on him, “how have you been? It’s been a minute since we actually spoke or even really saw each other.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry, about that. Things have gotten hectic the last few months.”

“Anything I should be concerned about?”

“Not that I can think of, but you still have your go-bag ready just in case, right?”

“Always.” You smiled as your head propped on your fist, “You look good.”

“So do you,” Hunter leaned forward, smiling. He was about to ask about your life and how you were doing when Flo came over and asked if they were ready to order.

Once she was gone, Hunter just let out a contented sigh, as he looked at you. “I think I’m falling back in love with you.”

You looked startled for a moment, pulling back to sit up a little, you didn’t know what to say really. You had never stopped loving him, but … if he was falling back in love with you, then did that mean there were still trust issues between the two of you. What if you got back together and broke up for a fourth time? Could you handle that? What if you get back together and you realize this time you’re the one who’s moved on? What if there’s another misunderstanding, or if one of his other brothers says something that causes doubt in your relationship?

Hunter watched as you fidgeted with your finger against the table.

Flo came back with your food, leaving it on the table. Even she noticed there was something odd with the intense silence that lingered between the two of you.

He wanted to speak, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to distract you. He sat there silently, allowing you the time you needed to figure out what to do with what he said … maybe he made a mistake saying he was falling back in love, truth was he’d never fallen out of love with you. This would’ve been his fourth attempt to get back together with you, was he stupid for trying this? Maybe you wouldn’t believe him, when he said he was in love with you. Not that he blamed you.

Was he ruining this again before anything even started?

Was it over before he even got a chance to show you he changed?

He just needed you to look up at him, to smile at him. He just needed your smile. Why did he have to open his mouth?

You took a deep breath, and slowly lifted your eyes to look at him, “You’re falling back in love with me? So… you moved on and now … you’re … what, realizing you’re back in love?”

“No. Rather, I’m realizing, I’ve never stopped loving you. I …” he swallowed the nervousness that was bubbling forth from deep within. He clenched his hands. “I was an idiot. Every one of those times we broke up, it was my fault. I … I didn’t understand what it took to actually be in a relationship, and I know I’m asking a lot from you, by telling you all this, but I don’t want to run away, anymore. I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want to think I’m not good enough… I want to give us a real try.”

You looked at him and Gods, as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop that smile from appearing on your lips as you looked into his eyes. What do they say, fourth times a charm?

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Tag list:

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ghostiiess · 1 day

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my love mine all mine - a sim jake imagine.

synopsis: in which jake decided to dance with you in his apartment kitchen at 3am while playing mitski’s songs

warnings: petnames (baby, princess)

words count: 954

type: fluff

pairing: !non-idol jake from enhypen x female reader!

author’s note: i wrote this while listening to this song… enjoy the imagine!!

english’s not my mother tongue… sorry if i made any mistakes!

You were just finishing cleaning the kitchen table where you and your boyfriend had eaten earlier in the evening when a small gesture slowly touched your back.

A soft melody you knew so well, Mitski's "My Love Mine All Mine," played in the background, adding a quiet and romantic ambiance to your boyfriend's messy apartment.

- My love...? he said so softly you thought he was whispering.

He turned you around with his hands on your hips, then gave you one of his charming smiles... Then you saw him. His white shirt was two buttons unbuttoned and looked wrinkled. He had probably forgotten to iron it... His brown hair was combed and sprayed so that nothing was out of place. His arms adorned with bracelets and his fingers with silver rings that made you fall in love all over again every time he wore them. His neat black pants, accompanied by his most beautiful black shoes, with his white shirt tucked around the belt, matched him perfectly. If you didn’t know any better, you could easily have thought he was straight out of a Cinderella movie: Jake looked like a real prince..

- Jake?

He made a face at you. He hated it when you called him that… His hand moved, letting his fingers take your left hand before spinning you around like a princess in a romantic movie, then letting go as if he hadn't evacuated the butterflies in your stomach.

- Would you dance with me, princess?" he asked, offering you his left hand, the same one he'd used to spin you around.

At that nickname, you grinned even wider, placed your right hand in his left, and watched as he led you toward the kitchen.

Still holding your hand, he stepped back a little, then moved his right knee on his left side as if he was bowing like a prince. Waiting your turn, you did the same and then saw him smile even wider. His smile was bright, brilliant, warm.

As he twirled you a second time, you saw him take your hand and place it on his hip as he intertwined your hands. As the music continued to play, Jake did a little dance step, then stopped.

- I'll try not to step on your feet...

You laughed softly, then began to dance with him. Your steps, your gestures, your dances were as majestic as swans. You moved with such grace and delicacy that you'd think the piano notes of the song were dancing with you as well.

- Do you remember that song?" he asked, and you nodded without hesitation.

Of course you do. It was the song you and Jake met to. You were studying your physics in the study hall of your school when you saw Jake come into the classroom with a wide-eyed look on his face.

‘Uh, excuse me? Do you know where Miss Catherine is? I've been looking for her since earlier, but she's nowhere to be found...' was the first sentence he said to you, before you realized that you were also waiting for her to explain the exercises. Maybe it was luck, maybe the universe had organized things so that you'd meet, but Miss Catherine had never come to explain the theory to you: Jake had. Things went on, and history was made: a friendship that turned into a love affair that seemed new, but had just passed the two-year mark last month.

- You stayed so long to help me with the theory," you replied, continuing the dance. We stayed so long that we almost got kicked out…

Your boyfriend nodded, then laughed. He twirled you once more, then kissed the palm of your hand.

- You're so beautiful, Y/N. You dance like a princess..

You smiled.

- You're dressed so elegantly, Jakey. I’m in my joggings while you’re literally wearing a prince’s outfit!

He shook his head.

- What are you talking about? You’re dressed just fine! You’re so beautiful.. I love this look on you, it might be my favourite..

While finishing his sentence, his nose moved closer to yours, and then your lips touched, causing the world to stop.

- Your lips are so soft. And...

Before Jake could continue, you rested back your lips on his. His arms moved down your back before returning to his original spot: your hips.

Your noses touched, then you saw the sweet smile Sim Jake had on his gentle face.

- I'm glad we met. I never thought I'd say this, but you're the one who brightens my day when I'm sad and makes me feel the best.

Before you could speak, Jake placed his index finger over your mouth, then shook his head.

- Shh! Let me do the talking, baby.

When he cleared his throat, his hands took yours:

- I want to keep living and dancing with you until our heads turn white and our grandchildren look at us and says ‘even at their age, their love is still strong’.

You couldn't help smiling.

- If you only knew how much I love you Y/N.

- I love you too, baby.

He placed his lips on yours, then turned you around one last time.

- As the song goes.... My love, mine, all mine...

Then, as if magnetized, your lips finished the dance together as the last notes of the song echoed through the kitchen, leaving incredible memories in your heads. It wasn't your last dance, far from it: the next one would probably be at your wedding, with the same song playing in the background, leaving your two smiles as the only source of light.

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lunameimei · 5 months

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"𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑"

#and here is the art for which I recently posted a wip #my art #This line #is everything.#They knew what they were doing when they wrote this song #nghhh I just can't wait!!#it's almost here!#hazbin hotel #angel dust #poison #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #another reupload #I had to post the art via a link to my twitter so that tumblr would allow me to show the art to the world #:\

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luluwquidprocrow · 3 months

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oh if you knew what it meant to me

albert & diane

gen

2,128 words

It’s the wrong side of midnight, and he’d planned to leave the airport, stand in the parking lot for as long as it took to smoke out the memory of Leland Palmer’s scalp from his brain, and then get a cab. But he’s dead with exhaustion after the flight (and everything else) and Diane Evans and her fucking car are the best things he’s ever seen in his life.

my fic for @tildytwo for @countdowntotwinpeaks' wonderfulxstrange 2024 exchange!! albert coming home after the end of the palmer case.

title from daydreaming by dark dark dark

He sees Diane in the parking lot, smoking under a streetlight by her blinding red Mustang. She’d told him once it was vintage, and he said that vintage wasn’t going to help her out a bit if the car didn’t crumple when some beige sedan asshole t-boned her out on the highway. No airbags at all. He’s unsure about the seatbelts. The trunk is barely going to fit his suitcases, he knows, alongside the hideously pink tool kit he’s sure is still in there. It’s the wrong side of midnight, and he’d planned to leave the airport, stand in the parking lot for as long as it took to smoke out the memory of Leland Palmer’s scalp from his brain, and then get a cab. But he’s dead with exhaustion after the flight (and everything else) and Diane Evans and her fucking car are the best things he’s ever seen in his life.

Diane startles when he gets close, her cigarette smoldering between her fingers. “You look terrible,” she says, as if it’s a revelation.

“I didn’t ask for the opinion of the local peanut gallery,” Albert says.

“You’re getting it anyway,” Diane says. “Sure you weren’t the one that took three bullets to the chest, Albert?”

“Oh, very funny, madam secretary.” Does he really look that bad, he wonders. He feels that bad, like he’s dragging himself six steps behind where his body really is. Three trips in two weeks to the Mayberry R.F.D. death trap in Washington state will do that to you. Or at least it should. Dale Cooper and all his charms aside, Albert had no plans to stay for a placatory funeral in a town that was getting a track record.

Were they giving that girl a funeral too. Or were they only having one for the father of the year. Albert scrapes around in his brain for her name—she deserves that much. Madeline. What about Madeline Ferguson, her blood still stuck on Albert’s hands. His fingers flex around the handle of one of his suitcases. Coop had said she was from out of town. Did her parents come back for her? Or was she getting buried there too, in the same yawning grave Coop was staying behind in? The thought burrows inside his stomach, another knot of background concern adding to the rest of them. In a few years, if not already, he’ll have a nice shiny ulcer to show for all the nonsense the bureau’s put him through. Fuck, he is too tired for this.

Diane takes advantage of his dazed stupor and gets his suitcases away from him. Albert was right, the toolbox is still in the trunk and still pink; his suitcases barely fit but Diane works the same feat of magic she does on everything else and gets the trunk to close before pushing him into the passenger seat. Miracle of miracles, it does have seatbelts.

He twists the radio dial back and forth until Diane gets in and smacks his hand away. She puts on a top 40s station, because her compassion is obviously limited, and reverses neatly out of the parking lot and navigates through the maze of airport traffic onto the highway. Albert keeps an eye out for sedans as a matter of principle. They’re the sort of car that creeps up on you this time of night, even with Philadelphia still alive around them, pricks of light burning like match heads.

“Oh!” Diane twists an arm behind her around to the backseat, digging for something with a reckless abandon that has the Mustang veering sharply over the road.

“Jesus, Diane, the road—”

“Keep your shirt on, Rosenfield,” Diane laughs. She shoves a thermos into Albert’s chest and then gets both hands back on the wheel. “There. I brought you coffee.”

“At what cost,” Albert mutters, but he unscrews the cup and the lid. The fact of the matter is that Diane makes coffee to die for, and he could use the warmth.

“You’re welcome.”

Then she’s silent for a whole verse and chorus of twangy guitars as someone sings about standing, and Albert knows it’s coming. He downs a gulp of coffee like a shot and his jaw starts to tighten up.

“He didn’t come with you,” Diane says.

“What gave it away,” Albert asks, “the lack of chipper humming in the overall ambience or the fact that I got your coffee?”

“I did make it for you, dipshit,” Diane insists. “I listen in on Gordon’s calls, I knew he wasn’t coming, and I thought you could use it. I just—” She takes a quick drag of the cigarette still tucked between her fingers. When she exhales, the smoke chases itself in circles. “—it didn’t sound good, why you went there again. And I thought, maybe he might’ve come back with you anyway.”

“No such luck,” Albert says. “He wanted to stay for the funeral.”

The corner of Diane’s mouth pinches in. She doesn’t say it, but both of them are thinking it. They’re intimately acquainted with Coop’s—Albert has spent a long time trying to figure out how to put it. He takes another drink. It’s not sentimentality, per se. Attachment isn’t quite right either, although it wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a show of commitment, of a deep-seated determination that sits somewhere in Coop’s marrow. An unending desire to be the one that helps.

Albert can’t begrudge him the idea, not all the way. You were supposed to feel something, otherwise you were in the wrong line of work if you did this without it being able to knock the breath out of you on occasion. But Albert has a different idea of what it means to respect a case and the people involved. And it hasn’t almost gotten Albert killed. Punched, sure, but like he said, he can take a punch and he’ll take one again if it means he can try and do his goddamn job like he’s supposed to.

He wants to say, well, Coop will be back soon enough. Funerals don’t take forever. Coop has never known where to draw the line but even he has to admit one exists, even in a town like Twin Peaks. But fuck, Albert had encouraged him. Just catch this beast before he takes another bite. And Harry had asked later—Where’s Bob now?

Albert lets his head hit back against the seat, the taste of the coffee sour in his mouth, the ache of a migraine starting behind his eyes. Blue roses never sat easy, but this—he’s been awake too long as it is.

“He’s impossible, isn’t he,” Diane says quietly.

“That’s one of the words for it, I guess,” Albert says.

The two of them share a glance—Diane makes it blessedly quick and puts her eyes back on the road where they belong. Yeah, they both know about that, too. They have their own attachments. They wouldn’t be in this car if they didn’t.

Diane drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you hungry?”

“I had lunch.” Or something like it, probably a million years ago. He had the least offensive donut he could find in Harry’s office, which was an overly glazed monstrosity. It stuck on the way down.

“Uh-huh,” Diane says. Her tone is not encouraging. “And?”

“And nothing. I had lunch, Diane, I’m fine.”

“And, that was what, at noon? We’re getting something.”

“Diane—”

“You keep it up and I’ll get you a kids meal, Albert.”

“Excuse me, I am not a—”

��With a small french fry. With a fucking juice box.”

“Fine!” he shouts, which definitely sounds like a fucking child. Diane grins in satisfaction, and she keeps it on her face all the way off the highway exit and to the nearest blindingly bright drive thru, cheerfully ordering two hamburgers from an acne-faced kid in the window who’s chewing gum loud enough to break the sound barrier of Albert’s patience.

“Would you like fries with that?” the kid asks.

Diane hesitates, drawing out the moment and Albert’s absolute last nerve until she says, “Yeah.”

Albert manages to pull his wallet out when Diane gets her own, but she gives him such a look like she’s going to ram it down his throat if he even so much as opens his mouth to offer to pay. It rankles him, but then Diane’s flinging the bag of food at him and driving around to park facing the road. There’s a balancing act between the thermos and the hamburgers and the fries and Diane’s ginger ale and her cigarette, but they manage. Albert unwraps his hamburger, exchanges the onions for the saddest lone pickle slice from Diane’s, and sinks his teeth into the whole thing. It really is the greasiest thing in the world. He hates how good it tastes right now.

The radio crackles with static, only bursts of some recent subpar Chicago song coming through. Cars shoot by, one another another with the lights starting to blur. Albert rubs his eyes and says it. “I feel like I left him there.”

Diane picks at her french fries. “I don’t think either of us could’ve dragged him away,” she concedes. “Not if he didn’t want to leave.”

“He’s got all the self-preservation skills of a deer in headlights,” Albert says. “And he’s not even going to notice if he gets hit. Next thing I know he’ll put down roots there.”

Diane shifts in her seat.

Motherfucker. “Don’t tell me,” Albert says. “Don’t do it, Diane. I’m asking nicely.”

“Too late. He wanted to know about his real estate opportunities in his pension,” Diane says. Then—“I told him it was misfiled and I couldn’t find it. I thought, even Dale couldn’t be serious about that. But—”

Albert’s free hand curls in on itself against his knee. Son of a bitch, it stings. He should’ve stayed and sat through the most pointless funeral so he could pull the hooks out of Coop himself and take him home. He should’ve punched Harry back. He should’ve looked him in the eyes until he saw what Coop saw in there. He should’ve finished Laura Palmer’s autopsy. He should’ve taken them all back with him when he had the chance.

He wonders what his own pension options are. Albert is by no means going to walk right after Coop into his hell du jour, but he’s got enough sense to know where it is and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t stay close enough to drag Coop back the next time.

“You think he’d do it too,” Diane says, her voice low. She turns and faces him, and Albert can see the lights in the parking lot hit on the circles under her eyes. Her cigarette has burned out now. They’re the only ones left in the world for a second, two people waiting to see who loses it first.

So they make a choice, between the two of them. Next time.

He has to get his head back on straight. Albert clears his throat a few times, unclenches his fist. “I think Dale Bartholomew Cooper is going to give me a goddamn coronary,” he says. “Unless this burger does first,” he continues, taking another bite.

“Bartholomew?” Diane repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am. As serious as the coronary.”

“Bartholomew,” she says it again. “Oh, it’s so terrible I kind of love it.”

“You’ve been his secretary for how long and you didn’t know that?”

Suddenly, a smile breaks over her face. She starts giggling. “Did you know—did you know he didn’t know my fucking last name until last year?”

It startles a laugh out of Albert. It’s the sort of unbelievable thing that becomes believable, with Coop. They keep laughing to the end of the hamburgers. It’s a damn novelty to still be able to do it. Maybe there’s enough hope left for the three of them yet. Next time, by the piercing guitar coming through the radio, Diane dumping the rest of her fries into Albert’s container, Albert drinking Coop’s coffee, Coop’s tapes waiting in Albert’s suitcases in the trunk.

“Thanks,” Albert says.

Diane grins again. “Yeah, I thought you knew how to say it. Let’s get you home before you self-destruct from the strain of it.”

Albert rolls his eyes. It’s a while yet to his place, and even longer back to Diane’s after. “You want me to drive?” he asks. It’s a pointless offer, since it’s her car and she came to get him, and it’s the Mustang, but he feels obligated.

But Diane laughs. “Shut up, Rosenfield. You can get me back later.”

Albert doesn’t think so. He lets her drive the rest of the way home, watching for sedans. None come close.

#twin peaks #wonderfulxstrange #countdowntotwinpeaks #tildytwo #albert rosenfield #diane evans #the title is growing on me. i could not think of anything else. and it was the first thing i wrote down #when i was listening to my peaks playlist while planning. bc this song is on it and i thought it hit something here #but if you knew what it meant to coop.........but if you knew what it meant to albert...........but if you knew what it meant to diane.....#song with twangy guitars and singing about standing -- stand by r.e.m. the subpar chicago song -- you're not alone #the piercing guitar -- paradise city by guns n roses #all of which were in the top 40s in early march 1989.#(i don't think albert would know r.e.m. or guns n roses but i DO think he would know chicago. classic chicago.)

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94erz · 2 years

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At this point I think I have to accept we’re not getting anything until Indigo actually comes out or very close to, sometime after the 21st. One part of me has reached the whatever stage while the other part of me is still like, what the fuck?!

Do I get it? Not really. But I haven’t been able to make sense of a lot of shit that’s been happening since the summer. I don’t think they do either given how last minute everything has been.

I hope someone makes a documentary years after BTS disband that does an insane deep dive into them that includes this era because I would be fascinated to know what the game plan was. Since we’ll never know from the company and I don’t see any of the members doing a tell-all. Even though I would live for that, a book or otherwise. Specifically from Namjoon’s perspective ‘cause I think if anyone would write a good book it’d be him.

#Sab talks BTS stuff #like is everything a mess because they (HYBE/BH) were hoping for enlistment exception and the members finally decided fuck it #or is everything a mess because they always knew they wouldn't be exempt and instead the members got burnt out?#and finally decided to temporarily take a break to prioritize the needs of certain members ambitions?#example: Hoseok #who pretty much everyone outed as wanting to take a break the most during FESTA so he could do his own thing #whereas Namjoon was and is clearly the most burnt out in trying to craft BTS' sound #in that he said he didn't know what the group had to say anymore #which frankly he knows exactly what should be spoken about but k-pop isn't for complex topics #hence why the rap line put those more difficult conversations into the lyrics of their solo works #BTS used to have more music with messages and that's when their songs were the best #they need to be bold again versus this cutesy pop that's devoid of any heart soul of thought behind it #because a GP only consumes it like junk food #remember when BTS wrote songs about class inequality? Yeah #and like BTS don't need to tackle topics that would make them hypocritical (since they're all rich AF now)#but there are still important things to create music about #anyway oh look I wrote a whole damn essay in these tags 'cause I dunno if it's worth making a whole post about

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weeweeboy · 2 years

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keep thinking of allies and enemies and sanegiyuu i need help i think

#the song fits them so well it just itches my brain #hhhhhhh its #i talked about it to a few friends but im so .#hmmmmmm #im staring them down with a sigh .#sanegiyuu #the crane wives knew what they were doing when they wrote this there is no way in hell they didn't

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jamminvroomvroom · 3 months

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no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

whoops? lol

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

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nicoliine · 4 months

Text

The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.

☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.

Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.

☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.

☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.

You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.

This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.

When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."

Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.

Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.

☆◦ •◦☆

Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.

You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.

Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!

☆◦ •◦☆

The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.

Just a simple touch, please.

Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.

But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.

The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.

☆◦ •◦☆

You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.

That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.

While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.

"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.

"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.

"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.

"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"

"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.

"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.

You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.

"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.

"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.

Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.

His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.

This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Why did this took me so long?#nicolines

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claypgeon · 9 days

Text

PR nightmare | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x singer!reader

summary: y/n is considered a pr nightmare. let’s watch her get into her first relationship.

notes: yet another repost from my old account, i tired to make it exactly the same, enjoy!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 737,938 others!

yoursername: my manger told me to tell you guys that the illuminati is NOT real and i was just joshing around !! 😂👍👍😂

view comments below!

user1: ugh this is SO BELIEVABLE

user2: | WAS WAITING FOR THIS POST

user3: yeah let's all ignore the "i wrote songs about an f1 driver!!!!"

user4: the pictures 😭

yourmomsuser: pic credits?

yoursername: you're like 60 why do you know what pic credits are ??

user5: the illuminati is totally real 🙄

mclaren: 👀

yourusername: NO THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING PLS LOOK AWAY

user6: no offense, but how did you stumble across F2 oscar ???

yourusername: my brother is like a HUGE f1, 2, AND 3 nerd and he always forces me to watch races with him 😣

yourbrothersuser: you literally ask me to tell you when oscar's back on the screen ???

yourusername: okay kill yourself ????

yourbrothersuser: @/yourmomsuser

yourusername: GOD YOU ARE SUCH A SNITCH

ynupdates: y/n and her brother; jacob, were seen at the airport earlier today, she later posted the picture on the right, on her story, confirming that she is in fact traveling. y/n has no shows coming up, and she rarely travels with jacob. thoughts?

view comments below!

user7: guys guys..the monaco grand prix in literally in two days.

user8: SHES GOING TO THE GRAND PRIX. I KNOW IT.

user9: why's her brother kinda ??

user10: you can't even see his face 😭😭 ??

user9: I CAN JUST TELL

user11: everyone saying she's going to the grand prix are like getting my hopes up ???????

user12: WATCH HER GO SOMEWHERE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT 😭

user13: okay guys..but we never talked about what songs could be about oscar

user14: IVE DONE SO MUCH THINK ABOUT THIS!!!

user13: GIRL PLEASE TELL

user14: OKAY OKAY!! one that REALLY stands out to me is "my love mine all mine" because, we all know y/n has never had a boyfriend before, SO when she writes love songs, obviously people speculate that she's in a relationship

user14: WHEN SHE WAS ASKED ABOUT THE INSPIRATION FOR "my love mine all mine" she said "i sadly do not have a boyfriend yet. but there is someone i've had my eye on for some time." SHE COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT OSCAR AND WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE

user15: istg if y/n doesn't show up in the paddock tomorrow, i will throw a fit.

liked by mclaren, f1, yourbrother, and 837,938 others!

yourusername: i could tell you where i am and what im doing, but its funny reading the theories

view comments below !

user15: are you going to a secret illuminati meeting user16: pls y/n pls just tell us

user17: this is cruel AND YOU KNOW IT

user18: pls lord, let y/n go to the monaco grand prix🙏🙏

user19: there's no way she ISNT going to the grand prix, i mean she's with her brother, and he's literally like the biggest f1 fan ever?? why else would they be traveling together

user20: maybe they're traveling together because they're siblings😭😭 ?? it doesn't have to connect to f1

yourbrothersuser: y/n pls put the phone down. i need a good nights rest for tomorrow.

user21: TOMORROW ???? IS ??? THE ???? GRAND ??? PRIX ??? ARE ???? YOU ??? GUYS ???? GOING ????

ynupdates: it seems like the rumors are true! y/n and jacob are currently at the grand prix!

view comments below!

user 22: 1 FUCKING KNEW IT

user23: everyone knew it...

user24: WHOO CAREEESSS oscar and y/n interaction WHEN ???

user25: ugh i NEED grid x y/n interactions RN

user26: y/n this, oscar that. WHAT I NEED IS TO SEE Y/NS BROTHER MEET MAX

user27: omg can you imagine how happy he is rn

— mclaren has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, f1, yourbrother, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 837,938 others!

mclaren: monaco was a dream! thank you y/n for joining us view comments below!

view comments below!

user28: 1 SHOULVE BEEN THERE. I COULDVE METY/N. THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME.

yourusername: thank you for having me🧡

user29: okay now make oscar and y/n kiss

yourbrothersuser: thank you for making my dream come true 🙏🙏

redbullracing: @/yourusername our garage next

yourusername: i think @/yourbrothersuser would enjoy that more then i ever could

redbullracing: he's always welcome to join 💙

yourbrothersuser: AHHHHHH OMG OMG

user30: okay now more grid x y/n content

user31: the way this became like a meet and greet for y/n was INSANE

user32: who would've thought there would be so many y/n fans at a F1 race ???

user33: everyone's a y/n l/n fan.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri 763,928 others!

yourusername: do you think he'll try weed with me now that he's my boyfriend?

view comments below !

user34: EXCUSE ME BOYFRIEND ????

user35: OMG Y/N GOT HER FIRST BOYFRIEND!! АННННН

user36: OSCAR AND Y/N ??? HELL YEAH

user37: okay let's just pretend that doesn't say what it says 😭

yourmanger: y/n please change that caption.

yourusername: i don't know how ☹️

user38: WHO CARES ABOUT THE CAPTION!!! Y/N AND OSCAR SHIPPERS RISE

mclaren: in case that caption isn't a joke, y/n please refrain from getting our drivers high.

yourusername: YOU GUYS ARE NO FUN E

user39: i love how public y/n is. like she genuinely acts like she doesn't have millions of followers

oscarpiastri: love i already told you, we cant get high.

yourusername: YOU WOULD IF YOU LOVED ME.

maxverstappen1: i'll get high with you y/n 🙋‍♂️

redbullracing: no you will not.

#oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri f1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 3 days

Note

Alright, for your event

May I get the song Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton, with either Dogma or Fox, please?

And Congrats on your followers!

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

Ahhhh my love, thank you so much for putting in a request. It makes me so happy.

I wrote it with Dogma, simply because I hardly ever write about him, so I hope I did him justice.

I'm not sure if you'll appreciate my interpretation of Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton, but I do hope you enjoy this.

Love oo

Ordinary Day

Warnings: feeling overwhelmed, stressed, a little anxious, angsty, fluff, unexpressed feelings, mentions of prison. I think that's it. If I miss anything let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

You sat on the edge of the basecamp just needing to breathe, to find a quiet moment that was surrounded by talking, yelling, screaming (either in pain or otherwise). It was just constant, a constant drone, and all you wanted was silence. It took some time, but you finally found it, here at the edge of the field, as you breathed in the fresh breeze, while looking up at the night sky. Everyone else was running around too busy to actually take a moment to admire the view, and you couldn’t blame them really, there was a battle that needed to be prepared for, medics needed to make sure they had the supplies needed for the eventual loss of life and injuries to be sustained.

You had your own preparations too, as the communications specialists, it was your job to make sure everyone knew what they were doing or where they were supposed to be positioned. However, General Skywalker was kind enough to realize you were on your last tether.

He told you to get lost for at least two hours, and if anyone had a problem with that, well they could just talk to him about it. Although he didn’t look it, he was a really nice and considerate General. Well… some of the time.

You simply closed your eyes, smiling as you felt another burst of fresh breeze brushing against your face.

You couldn’t help it when your smile grew bigger as you heard those familiar footsteps. The sound of his movements were so strict and firm. So Dogma.

“You’re not suppose to be out here”

You tried to fight back your giddiness even though it never worked, “I have special permission to be out here. I’m taking a mental break before I shoot someone.”

There was shifting and you felt rather than saw him sit beside.

Dogma looked at your beautiful face, and despite himself, despite knowing it was against regulations, despite the fact that he could get in trouble for this, he couldn’t pull his eyes away or stop his hand from brushing an errant hair back into place.

“You still shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I’m not alone, you’re here” you still hadn’t looked at him, because you knew the minute you did, your resolve would crumble and the only emotion in your eyes that would shine as clear as day would be your admiration for him.

“You got me there.” He smirked as he looked at you, “I had that same dream again.” You turned this time to look at him, listening as his eyes held just as much adoration and feeling as your own did, “I was just an ordinary guy, not a soldier, not a clone. I reached over and held your hand, feeling as though this is where I was meant to be. With you, under the stars.”

You felt the heat rush to your face as he kept talking and staring at you with those warm brown eyes, those eyes that said more than his lips ever could.

“Stupid right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not stupid.” Your smile widened as you thought of your own sentiments and emotions, “It sounds like a perfectly ordinary dream, an ordinary dream that could be solved just by holding my hand.” You moved your hand towards his, offering it for him to take.

His eyes drifted down to your palm, Maker, how he wanted to reach out and take it, how he wanted to rip off his gloves and feel your warmth against his own skin. But he was a good soldier, and good soldiers followed orders. His gaze shifted and looked up to the stars, “It’s an ordinary dream for an ordinary boy. Not a soldier.” He stood brushing off the dust, “We should head back in, it’s against regulations to be here outside of the camp after dark.”

You focused your eyes away from his and nodded, slowly standing, as your tears fought back against the warm bubble rising. You turned to look at him, but those affectionate eyes were gone and now there was nothing but the soldier.

You jolted from your bed, looking up at the ceiling rafters, as the warm sun spread over your bed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to remember where you were, calming your racing heart, when you heard him clear his throat. You didn’t bother to fight the smile that appeared on your face, as you slowly turned to look at Dogma as he leaned against the door frame.

“Morning, mesh’la. Caf’s ready.” He walked over and placed down your mug on the bed side table, something he did every morning ever since you broke him out of prison and ran away to an outer rim planet.

“Morning, gorgeous”

“Come on, time to start the day.” He smiled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You pulled him closer, “I have a better idea.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, you stay here with me.”

“Hmmm sounds perfect,” he leaned closer, pressing his lips to yours, “like a perfect ordinary day.”

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Tag list:

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rebeccccccaaa · 2 months

Text

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites.

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now.

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked.

“Then why are you calling?”

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most.

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him.

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically.

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though.

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.”

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too.

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though.

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh.

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips.

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him.

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper.

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out.

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you.

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them.

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day.

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always.

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself.

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered.

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs.

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you.

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud.

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that.

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl.

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself.

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs.

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together.

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy.

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax.

“Oh god, too much, Spence.”

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously.

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly.

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs.

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined.

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined.

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained.

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course.

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of.

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him.

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe.

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face.

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle.

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place.

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time.

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp.

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again.

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax.

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated.

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high.

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts.

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before.

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer.

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently.

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted.

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.”

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face.

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read.

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet.

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing.

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back.

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you.

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #first fic back!!#hope you enjoyed reading #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #reader insert #smut

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taasgirl · 1 month

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lover - oscar piastri

summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!

a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!

liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷

oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername

user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!

ynusername of course!!

user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar

user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up

yukitsunoda 😆😆

landonorris You're my favourite wag

ynusername wow how considerate

liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊

ynusername tehee we're cute

oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room

taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername

user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???

user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH

user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!

user92898 no fr like what is going on

user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd

view ynusername's story...

liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!

user51862 who is y/n

user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...

user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??

user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties

ynusername thank u tay 💓💓

user52868 Girl has been living a double life

user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭

liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.

on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.

oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)

ynusername hello cat boy

user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out

ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay

landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername

user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written

user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO

lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...

lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA

let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.

i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!

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ladadiida · 9 months

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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 5 months

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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there.

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

#good omens #good omens musical #musical #masterposts #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #fun fact #:)

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