#He wants more in order to get what he wants

[gffa]

Osha's backstory episode of The Acolyte fits perfectly with a headcanon I've had forever about Force-sensitive children in the galaxy--that some children feel called to the Jedi and some do not, and that the Jedi look out for this. We see that destiny exists in the Star Wars universe, the Force calls to people to walk certain paths, but that it's still up to them to decide, you still have to make your own choices. (See: Everything about Anakin Skywalker and how the Jedi never brought that up around him, it was always about personal choice and agency. Yes, he was the Chosen One, but he had to choose his path.) From the moment we first meet her, child Osha didn't want to be a witch, she wanted to see more of the galaxy beyond Brendok, she was immediately entranced by the Jedi when they showed up during the ceremony, like a magnet pulling her to them, that she was drawing the Jedi Order symbol long before they ever got there. It wasn't just a sudden way to get out of there, she was feeling this pull towards them long before she ever even met a Jedi. She's the one who first slips out to meet Sol during the ceremony despite being told to hide, she's the one who goes over to talk to Kelnacca before the test, she's the one who fights against her entire family to say she wants this. She's the one who wants this even before she knows there will be other children like her with the Jedi. We don't see the Jedi giving Mae that same nudge, because the Jedi path wasn't meant for her, she didn't want it, and I love that both here and in The Phantom Menace, the Jedi make sure that this is what the child wants, too, that both prequels and High Republic Jedi are shown to take such care, that it's done with the parents' permission, but also getting a sense of what the Force is or isn't calling this person to do and whether they accept it. But Sol gently pushes Osha, not to tell them what they want to hear, but to tell the truth, do you want this? Do you feel like this is right for you? Just as Qui-Gon made sure Anakin knew being a Jedi was a hard choice, the Jedi want you to be sure, want you to feel called to this, because the Force exists, a mysterious destiny exists in this galaxy. It's still your choice, you have to have agency over your choices, it's not just, "What does the Force want?" but instead Sol asking, "What do you want, Osha?" The narrative is careful to point out Sol telling her about his own testing, that he knew he was different from his family, that he was scared at first, but it was clearly his choice. "But you must have the courage to say what you want." The Force called her here, the Force is something that exists within Star Wars and has a will of its own, and some people are not called to this particular path, I don't think Mae was ever meant to be a Jedi, she never wanted it, she never felt that pull. But Osha, like so many other Force-sensitive children tapping into this giant mystical energy field that has a destiny for you if you want it, they are pulled to it and the Jedi take such care with that. Some are meant to walk the Jedi path and some are not, that's something only each individual can figure out for themselves, and the Jedi do their best to honor both the Force's calling and the person's own choices. And if a child resists and pulls away, they let them go, it wasn't right, it wasn't meant for them. But when a young Force-sensitive is practically vibrating in place with how badly they clearly feel this is meant for them, that's something that exists as a thing that really does happen with the Force.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @lynnistired Hope you like it! <3

Request: Were-rabbit x human I'm in love with your were-rabbit stuff and I want you to have full creative freedom!

Date a were-rabbit they said...

Were-rabbit x fem!human || rut, oral sex, lowkey CNC, dirty talk, praise kink

When you started dating your were-rabbit boyfriend everything was peachy. He was the cutest and most adorable guy you’ve ever met. His fur was extra soft, and his long fluffy ears fluttered adorably every time he got flustered. You fell for him fast. And he fell for you hard. You two were in love, and everything was wonderful.

The first time you two fucked you were surprised by his stamina, he made you cum three times before he got to his own release. You were on cloud nine about it. He was a gentle lover and it was overall a fun experience. But little by little he started showing more of himself, more of his never-ending stamina, more of his dominant tendencies. A part of you was awoken.

You didn’t know that about yourself. You didn’t know you liked to be called a good girl until he said it and you came. You didn’t know you had a thing for dominant guys until your adorably were-rabbit boyfriend turned into a sex crazed dom. And good Goddess if it didn’t make you hot for him. At first it was a bit of praise kink, a bit of spanking and a lot of ordering around. You ate that up. He made you feel naughty and desired and so fucking aroused you lost your mind to it.

But even then, even after having crazy sex, dominant sex, kinky sex… Nothing prepared you for the first time he had a rut.

You arrive home early, Wednesday are slow days. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you guess he’s still at work. You send him a quick text telling him to get some supplies from the store. He answers telling you he can’t, he has a problem and would be home soon. You start texting him frantically, worried sick about him. He says nothing, just sends some cryptic emojis and leaves it at that.

“Honey, I’m here. You need to run,” his voice is frantic and has an edge to it that you can’t identify. He looks you up and down and his ears stand up, twitching at every breath you take. Your heart starts beating fast.

“What do you mean?” You ask, looking at him worriedly.

He breathes deeply and slowly says: “I’m entering my rut and you need to be out of here.” You look at him confused, not really knowing were-rabbits had a rut. You thought that was a thing only werewolves had.

“Wha- why?” You try not to sound too hurt, but you don’t succeed.

“I- I don’t know if I would be able to control it, I don’t want to hurt you. Please, go. Go stay with your friend, I’ll call you when it’s over.” His voice is pleading and you want to give in, but you love him, you two can get through it together.

“No. I’ll stay,” you tell him, stubborn. You don’t tell him you are a getting turned on by the idea of him not being able to control himself around you. “I can take it. I can take you.”

His eyes are filled with heat and worry. “Are you sure? It’s going to be very intense,” he warns.

You don’t think about it too hard before you are nodding. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He tries to argue but you don’t let him, pulling your shirt and sports bra over your head in a second, exposing your breast. His gaze zeroes on them instantly, his ears twitch some more as your heartbeat speeds.

“Take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I need to calm down a bit before I do something I’ll regret.” The danger in his voice makes your pussy tingle. He smells the air and grunts, pointing to the room as he turns around to stop staring at your tits.

You ran all the way there and you aren’t even on the bed when his arms go around your middle and he pulls you against his furry chest. He wastes no time, pinching and rolling your nipples as you try to get your panties down your legs. You are almost done when he pushed you on the bed and jumps over you.

“I love you,” he says, but there’s an edge to it. You whimper, your pussy getting wetter by the second, his rough paws touching your face softly. It lasts just a second before his eyes turn dark and you know there’s nothing adorable about him anymore.

He positions himself over your chest and pulls on your hair, making you arch your neck to the right angle. His erection is right there, hitting you on the cheek as he takes it in his hand. He passes it around your face, marking you with his precum as he tells you how pretty you look under him. You preen at his praise, smiling up at him.

“Open your mouth for me.” You comply immediately, pushing your tongue out and looking up at him with your softest eyes. He growls at you and pushes his dick inside your mouth. As soon as he’s all the way in, you groan and he pulls harder on your hair.

Game’s on.

He fucks your mouth at the speed of light, his hips moving so fast you are lost in the hypnotizing movement as you feel his cock slide in and out of your throat so fast you lost sense of anything around you. He stops every once in a while and lets you breathe, but it’s not nearly enough. “I wish you could see yourself right now, lips wrapped around my shaft, tears rolling down… You look beautiful.” Your brain is fuzzy by the time he cums down your throat. You think he’s going to stop, but he keeps fucking in and out of your open mouth as you choke lightly on him.

His cum tastes bitter in the back of your throat, but you barely register it before he’s coming again. “You look perfect like that. Open for me, dripping wet. Your mouth feels so good,” he praises. You groan around his shaft when he leans back and forces your legs open, slapping your pussy with his whole hand and making your eyes roll back into your skull. “That’s it. So wet for me, so needy. Yes. Good girl.” You groan around his shaft, his words turning you on even more. “I’m going to fuck you so many times you won’t know where my dick ends and your pussy begins. Do you want that?” He doesn’t let you answer, pushing his dick all the way down your throat again. “Of course you do. You are a naughty girl for me.” You groan around his erection, he keeps fucking your mouth restlessly, drool and tears mix on your face as he takes his pleasure out of you, his hand softly massaging your clit. It’s not nearly enough.

He comes down your throat again. “You took a few loads already, such a good girl for me.” He pulls out and you miss him already, your brain fuzzy with arousal. “I’m going to use your tight pussy now, do you want that?” You try to nod, but he grabs your hair again. “I don’t care. I’m going to fuck your wet hole either way and you are going to love it, aren’t you?” You whimper as he chuckles. He never acted so cruelly around you, but god goddess if it’s not doing it for you.

He moves as fast as lightning, pulling you up the bed and positioning his still hard dick over your opening. “Don’t forget to scream my name.” That’s the only warning you get before he’s fucking you faster and harder than a machine. Like the rabbit he is.

He cums so fast you can’t even process it. But he keeps going. That happens so many times you lost count of how many times he comes and you come. It’s like a never ending orgasm for both of you. It’s so good and so intense you start to lose your mind a little bit.

You don’t know how much time passes before your pussy feels overused, oversensitive. You can’t take it no more. “Stop, please, stop. I can’t…” You try to beg, tell him to stop, even use your mouth again if he wants to, but you need a breather. You need him to stop fucking your poor abused pussy. You feel so full with his come and so completely used, the pain and pleasure mix completely at every one of his thrusts.

He looks down at you and wipes away your tears with his thumbs, a tender gesture even though he doesn’t stop. “One more, baby, just one more.” You aren’t sure you can comply, you can’t even move anymore.

“I- I can’t,” you cry, so spent already. He keeps fucking in and out of you, coming every few minutes and filling you with a new load. His cum gushes around his shaft, there’s probably a mess under you, but he doesn’t seem to be thinking of stopping anytime soon.

“Yes, yes you can. You are doing so good for me.” You cry out his name as you come once more and look at him pleadingly to stop.

But he lied.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop for what feels like days but probably are just a dozen hours. You pass out at times, you cum so much you think you are going to die from it. But he keeps going. Fucking rabbit stamina.

Date a were-rabbit they say. He would be cute they say… But they don’t tell you about the frantic fucking. Or the nerve-rending stamina. Or the rut. Nobody tells you about their rut. And good Goddess you suffer from it… But you’d offer yourself to spend it with him again and again and again…

[felassan]

Snippets 🐺💜

John Epler quote: "There’s a difference between playersexual and pansexual. All companions are canonically pansexual." [source]

The opening cinematic Varric narrates at the start of the game plays before CC. "Following character creation, Varric's narration continues, revealing that he's put together a group to stop Solas, having recruited our character and a handful of others so far." [source]

Despite the action-heavy focus, positioning is absolutely key, and using careful timing to hit multiple foes at once can be the difference between victory and defeat [source]

"In-between fights, Varric and the other characters, including your fully-voiced protagonist, discuss events that are unfolding and different things that have led up to this moment. Epler notes for the preview that with how much time has passed since prior games, the team wanted to carefully throw in some reminders without it feeling like ham-fisted exposition." [source]

"The Dread Wolf's ambitions have already been laid bare, but I strongly suspect there's more going on, and Epler cryptically hints that not everything will be as it first seems" [source]

 Mages can move instead of standing in one place, allowing them to get up close and personal with enemies - a major game-changer for magic users [source]

Faction choice affects in-game moments between other factions and locations, as well as characters [source]

"When they were creating this area, they kept that in mind and looked at other locations to figure out how they could make it more grand. They developed the entire area based on a comment someone said in a past game, and if that isn’t dedication to lore, I don’t know what is" [source] (re: Minrathous)

In this demo the press saw femme Rook! [source]

The standard three square hotkeys look like an updated version of past ones [source]

"It sounded like there is also a system that allows hints during battle, like when something is a certain range, etc., that they said could be turned off" [source]

"In cutscenes, rain dripping down a building, blood on someone’s hands, or stepping into a puddle looks outstanding". "Things like clothes and hair are dynamic and move with you" [source]

"what at its core is a beautifully told story of revenge, regret, and the complexities of good and evil" [source]

During the interrogation scene in the bar with the shady bartender, Varric pins her to her own station with a crossbow bolt in order to interrogate her. Rook and Varric then go scrounge the city for clues [source]

Re: using body sliders in CC - "It looked incredibly easy to maneuver around and create a body that is either close to that player's real personage or their ideal fantasy self" [source]

Companions "will not only be influenced by your decisions in terms of how they treat you outside of combat, but closeness to party members will also change how they fight, with those closest to Rook more useful and lethal in battle" [source]

"Our presenter said that each specialization was pretty much as deep as a job" [source]

The game will not be available in India. [source]

The game has a Quality mode and a Performance mode on PS5 and Xbox Series consoles. it runs the latest version of Frostbite, targeting frame rates of 60fps in Peformance and 30 in Quality [source]

They will have more to share on both graphics modes for consoles in the coming months. [source]

David Gaider quote on the portrayal of Anders' orientation in DAII:

DA2 writer David Gaider told Kotaku in February this was meant to distinguish Anders’ relationship with male or female versions of Hawke, but recognizes this comes off like the mage’s identity was a switch to be flipped in hindsight. “Unfortunately, we just didn’t have enough time to get enough feedback and iterate on those situations,” he said. “We would hit a particular interaction, we would make a judgment call either as a group or the writer on their own, and that was it. There was no time for anything more than one gut-check, which is probably not the way to go.”

edit: forgot to add src for last one sorry. its here

[teddybeartoji]

toji taking little gumi to his first judo match and you know that toji is sitting in the first row with miki, cheering him on with strong words.

and by that i mean that he's not yelling, he's barely raising his voice but he the tone is just so confident, so sure and determined that it makes gumi feel stronger too. simple things like "c'mon, gumi." and "ya have him, ya have him." are enough to clear the boy's mind – there are so many sounds and noises all around him, he's not even the only one who's doing this right now. bright lights and what feels like a hundred pairs of eyes on him were distracting before, overwhelming. but when he sees his dad, clear as day, he knows he can do it.

taking a deep breath in, little gumi eyes his opponent while thinking about everything his old man has been teaching him. patience. the other boy is excited (though gumi is too) and he's more hyper, bouncing around, trying his best to grab onto megumi's attire but he keeps getting swatted away. toji's green eyes meet gumi's over the kid's shoulders and it's the final boost of confidence he needs – in two swift moves, megumi has the boy on the floor, signaling that the match has finally come to an end.

he hears the deep rasp and his head snaps to the voice.

"that's my boy."

he doesn't yell, he doesn't scream – toji now stands by the bleachers with a proud grin on his face with a cheerful miki right beside him. his voice is steady as ever as he praises his from the distance. megumi will never forget this moment.

(toji knows how flustered his son can get if he's under the spotlight and while it is, sometimes, fun to tease him just a little for it – he would never do it in a situation like this. he wants gumi to feel good about his win, he wants him to have fun. he wants him to feel proud of himself too.)

a tiny smile, the faintest one, creeps onto megumi's lips and toji's heart is about to give out. his boy. his son. his little blessing. he watches the coach? grab his tiny hand to rightfully end the match and to show the winner to the crowd around them and toji takes a mental picture of the sight.

gumi's hand reaches up high with the help of the man beside him and he looks like a proper winner. the little boy's cheeks are flushed red from the tussling and his outfit is all disheveled from being yanked around but he looks happy. toji couldn't be more pleased.

and then gumi makes his way over to his dad and sister with haste steps. his arms reach out for toji and he's quick to reciprocate, pulling his baby boy up into his embrace. he hold gumi's head to his neck, knowing that he likes to hide there whenever he's feeling a bit too much.

"ya did s'good, gumi."

tiny fingers dig into toji's sweatshirt and toji knows that megumi heard him. really heard him. he will, of course, keep saying it again and again throughout the day but right now, he just really needed to make sure that gumi knows.

tsumiki fiddles with the hem of gumi's pants and toji gives her a smile before ruffling her hair. her scrunched up face, makes the corners of his own lips tug ever wider as he rumbles out a chuckle.

"wanna go home now?"

toji scratches gumi's warm back in order to get an answer out of him and the only thing he gets is a nod against his neck. and that's more than enough.

[ornateorchid]

i NEED to know what sex with poly141 is like

a/n: im getting to this after 2 months?? 3 months?? ...oops! anyways i wrote this in more of a headcanon format so if you're not a fan of it i apologize

john is in charge, just like out on the field. he likes having the authority role over you and the boys, telling them what to do and how to treat you and each other. he's gentle though and praises a lot. he knows they don't want him barking orders when everyone's trying to relieve stress.

"that's right, just like that."

"you're being so good, just for us."

"so perfect. look at how gorgeous you are."

he really loves it when the boys are rough with you. it gets him so hot and bothered just from watching them play with you. when they fuck your throat and leave you gasping for air, he's practically drooling. and when they're taking turns with you, pounding you into the mattress until you're screaming, his eyes are glued to the spot.

"you're taking it so good, doll. so tight, just for our boys."

"that's it, just like that. you're gonna make us cum."

"we're gonna fuck you until you can't walk, baby."

he can't resist fucking you when you're all fucked out and tired. his boys are always so rough with you, and he loves how blissed out you are when he slides into you. he fucks you slow and sweet, his mouth peppering kisses along your jawline and neck. you'll whine and beg him to go faster, but he doesn't let up. he'll keep at his pace and tell you that you can cum when you're ready. and you always do.

"such a good little whore, cumming on my cock."

"you look so pretty like this. all fucked out and ready to take more."

johnny is the brattiest of the four. doesn't matter if he's dominant or submissive, top or bottom, he's making some sort of snarky remark. and you love every bit of it. he's also the quickest to get his mouth on you, or anybody. he loves to challenge authority. he doesn't mind being put in his place. he'll be a brat, and then the second your hand is in his hair and he's forced to his knees, his eyes are already half-lidded and he's begging for a taste of you.

"come on, jus' give it to me already."

"i know you wan' it."

"fuck, i wan' you so bad, baby, please."

he's also the biggest tease, always running his fingers along the edge of your waistband, or up your thigh, or across your chest. he tries it with the boys to rile them up. and when they've finally had enough, johnny's grinning because he's finally got them.

"wha' are you gonna do, huh? you gonna punish me?"

"yeah, that's right. go ahead, put me in my place."

"come on, come fuck my throat."

he likes the feeling of being manhandled, pushed into a wall or onto his knees. and his favorite way to be punished is when his face is pressed into the mattress, and someone's hands are in his mohawk and holding him there, forcing him to take their dick. praise drives him crazy.

"im gonna come in that pretty mouth, and you're gonna swallow every drop since you want to be a brat."

"look at you, taking it like that. such a good slut."

"you look so good stuffed full, johnny."

kyle is the biggest romantic out of the bunch. he's always showering you with affection and compliments and little gifts. he's a sweetheart and a total sucker for love, and you know he wants to give it and receive it. he'll do everything he can to make sure you're feeling good and relaxed and safe and he knows just how to do it.

"god, you're so perfect, babe. you're gorgeous."

"don'tcha wanna feel my hands on you?

"can i touch you? can i make you feel good, sweetheart?"

he also has the most delicious moans and whines (they all do, but his are the best). he'll let the other person have the reins as his face is pressed into the sheets and his ass in the air while someone works him apart with their fingers. the other will fuck his mouth and make him drool all over the pillow. he's a sensitive lover and he'll cum with a few tugs of his dick.

"fuck, yeah, right there. 'm gonna come."

"oh god, oh fuck, just like that."

but other times he can be relentless. he'll work your hole until you're cumming over and over again, and he's still going. he's not stopping until you can't take it anymore. his thrusts will be hard and deep and fast and you'll be crying out his name. he'll slow down and pull out to hear your whimpers of despair, only to press his fingers into your gaping hole, and work you back up to the edge.

"that's it, baby. scream for me, let them know how much of a slut you are."

"look at how wet your cunt is. all for us, yeah?"

"gonna fuck you so hard, gonna fill you up. fuck."

simon is a wild card. sometimes he's gentle and tender and loving, and sometimes he's rough and degrading and controlling. it depends on his mood. like john, he loves to sit back and watch. and when the other boys are all over you, he's standing behind them, whispering into their ear. he can't help it.

"do you think she can take more? look how wet her cunt is."

"that's it. look at him go. fuck her harder."

"that's our angel, taking two cocks in her greedy holes."

but when simon's on his own with you, his hands will be all over you. he's desperate and needs to be touched. his cock is always aching, and his fingers are itching to slide into you. he's got an insatiable hunger. and once you're on his lap, riding his cock and bouncing away, he'll be grabbing at your ass and hips, pulling your body close to his, and whispering all kinds of filth into your ear.

"c'mere, baby. i wan' my mouth on ya."

"please, please, please. fuck, need it so bad."

"look at how wet y' are for me. such a good girl."

simon's a bit more possessive than the rest, possessive over you and everyone. he likes to leave hickeys all over everyone. it's a sign that says 'this is mine. don't touch.' and it makes him hot when everyone has a reminder of what happened the night before. or he'll leave bruises on their hips, just as a sign.

"you're all mine. all fucking mine."

"don't even think about moving. 'm not done with you yet."

"that's it, just like that. fuckin' beautiful."

[vampdes]

DES says . . . i like peach cobbler so much. this is based on my love for such. hope it’s as sweet for you as it was for me + happy early birthday gift to @asukases . please do enjoy.

SUM. — gojo satoru fucks like a beast, and, sometimes, even his beautiful boyfriend can’t control him. it’s not gojo’s fault his boy has the prettiest pussy in the world.

CON. warning — afab + ftm reader. fingering, vaginal sex / penetration, piv, no condom, mentions of pregnancy, oral (both receiving), gagging kink (?), pussy eating + pussydrunk gojo, biting / licking / possessive (?) gojo, breeding kink.

NOTES. — reader’s vagina is referred to as: pussy, my pussy, etc. reader deepthroats gojo’s dick. not proofread, apologies.

“your pussy’s so pretty, baby. .” gojo whispered in-between kisses that he pressed against the plush flesh of the inside of your thighs, “so wet f’me, fuck—” his warm breath pressed against your pussy, just as his long, slender index finger, which pressed against your entrance, being enveloped by your slick, glistening lips. gojo bit his lower lip as he watched his finger be coated in your glistening fluids, imagining how good his dick would look coming in and out of your cum filled pussy.

gojo had you laying on your back with your legs spread wide and your body bare for him and his eyes only. your hands were on the underside of your knee, holding your legs up and apart for him to explore your most intimate regions. before his index finger had successfully entered inside of your entrance, he leaned down and pressed kisses on your tummy due to your eyes being trained on him and the fear showing in your face. it was your first time doing it without a condom, after all, but gojo was sure you’d look so pretty pregnant; nevertheless, he wanted to make sure his boy was consenting and ready for him to continue on. you told him to go slow, your uneven breaths hitching once the tip of his finger entered inside of your pussy.

gojo immediately pressed a kiss against your lips, mumbling: “you’re gonna be okay, baby, we’ll take it slow, promise.”

after the first few minutes of making sure you were okay with the tip of his finger, you consented to him pursuing the full length of his index finger inside of you and the gasp that left your mouth made gojo’s ego groan in pure ecstasy. he waited until you were ready for the other two fingers he wished to put into you, stroking the inside of your gummy, slick walls as he watched your eyes flutter shut and your face and mouth contort in order for you to produce moans that bounced off the walls. once he finished prepping you adequately, he pressed the pink head of his long, girthy cock against your entrance, his tip already being warmed by the heat of your pussy.

“baby, i’m gonna start slowly, okay?” gojo asked, waiting for your consent once more after he intertwined your left hand with his left hand.

“. . please go slow, ‘toru, you’re too big,” you whimpered in response, trying to instill the fact that he is going to go slow once he fully entered inside of you, but only stroking his overflowing ego with the statement that he’s too big for your pretty pussy. gojo leaned forward and peppered your face with kisses, laughing softly and saying that you’re too cute for him, before he positioned the head of his cock against your entrance and slowly, gently but surely moving his hips in order to get his pre-cum smothered tip inside of your warm, gummy, inviting pussy.

once gojo fully put the head of his thick cock inside of you, he made sure to look up from the addicting sight below him in order to check up on you. what he saw was your cheeks being covered with left over streams of tears and more prickling at the corner of your gorgeous eyes. gojo leaned down and kissed each cheek where the tears left marks and cooed, “it’ll be okay, y/n, you’re taking it soo well, my love, so well.” after he had wiped away your newborn tears with his thumb. after he had, once again, gotten consent to make sure you’re ready for him to continue fully without hesitation (your words, mind you, not his), he followed your ‘plea’ and continued his cock’s venture into your pussy. gojo almost doubled over as his cock was overwhelming pleased with the inner workings of your body. your sticky, gummy walls was a mixture of his and your fluids and fuck, he felt so damn good—and he wanted to let his boy know.

“y/n,” gojo whimpered, his bright, blue eyes leaving from the addicting, pornography worthy image of his pure white pubes sticky and wet against your soaking pussy in order to meet yours which were screwed shut before opening in order to look at him, “you feel so, so fucking good—fuck, baby,” he let out a breathless, non-condescending laugh in order to stop his heart from trying to escape his chest, “you’re so wet and i can’t even begin to fucking imagine how good you’ll taste once i fuck your pussy raw and make sure you get pregnant from how much i’m gonna cum in you.” he snarled such vulgar words against your neck with his hands pressed against your stomach, rubbing softly, whispering: “imagine our baby. me and you in her. fuck,” gojo pulled back and sat up, placing his hands on your waist, feeling your skin slick with sweat and slowly exited out of you.

“‘toru, ‘toru, ‘toru,” you breathed, and hand coming up to his chest in order to stop him from providing you with the immense pleasure he was giving you with his dangerously addictive dick, “i’m gonna—nngh, ‘toru. .!” his name rolled off of your tongue as you cried out, your hands pulling back in order to ball up and grip the soaking wet sheets below the two of you. gojo licked his lips slowly as he watched your face contort into that of an aroused, sickeningly sweet expression, he then looked down and watched his glistening cock, covered in the juices that your pretty pussy produced, exit your pussy until just his tip was left inside of your warm, welcoming cavern. he then, against your moaning, already cock-drunk wishes, shoved himself back inside of your with a groan, eliciting a loud moan from you in response—one so loud that the neighbors were sure of his name and nickname you awarded him with—and gojo, being the absolute bastard he is, didn’t give you time before moving his hips in order for his slick-covered dick to move in and out of your puffy pussy.

“my boy’s so pretty” gojo huffed out, sounding in between a shaking whine and a groan, rolling his hips just right so the head of his cock could meet your prostate. he watched at you cried out repeatedly, telling him that his dick’s just too much for you and that you couldn’t take it anymore. he replied with: “but i wanna get you pregnant, baby,” with a pout that rivaled that of the best puppy eyes in the world, pressing down on your stomach so he could feel just how deep his dick was inside of you. doing so made you squirt. you painted his dick with your pussy’s addicting liquid and soaked the sheets below you, you came with his name rolling off your mouth in a broken moan, tears streaming down your face. he, once again, leaned down and licked your tears, making your cheeks sticky with his saliva.

gojo tore you apart, built you up again, and tore down the structure that is his perfect, pretty pussy that belongs to his beautiful boy. he made sure that you know how pretty and perfect your pussy is for a beast of his stature, saying your name in different ways (moaning, whining, whimpering, groaning, growling, snarling) that, combined with his bites, licks, and suckings and, let’s not forget, his cock, made you cum so hard.

and you, the fuckin’ ‘innocent’ minx you are, made sure that he’d get you pregnant tonight and tonight for sure. making sure that he, and the neighbors, know just how bad you wanna have his cum so deep inside of you that his semen has no choice but to fertilize deep inside of you. “gimme a baby, ‘toru, wanna have your baby so bad—” you’d moan and “‘toruuu, oh, fuck, hafta—aah! hafta get me pregnant! ooh, oh fuck, oh god—” you’d whine whilst you stroked his cock with your pussy and his ego with your words. you even worked up enough confidence to switch positions and ride him: you planted your hands on his chest as you lowered yourself onto his dick, gasping and whimpering and moaning all the while, making sure just how wonderous his cock is and how so fucking good it feels inside of you.

once gojo had deemed your pussy was full enough of his cum (you were spilling out onto the sheets), he decided that you both need to taste just how good you feel and felt. so, with him on top and you on bottom, the both of you situated yourself into the 69-ing position. the head of his cock, fresh out of your pussy, covered in his sperm and your fluids, pressed against your lips as his mouth was lowering itself towards your pussy that was spread open by his fingers. you opened his mouth and, due to being so obsessed with sucking his dick, swallowed it half way, allowing his hips to control the rhythm whilst you stroked the rest of his girth that you couldn’t take. your moans, that were retrieved from your mouth due to gojo licking and entering inside of you, groaning softly at the mixture of his cum and your aphrodisiac-like fluids together, made gojo’s cock feel insanely addictive.

that’s when he asked: “fuck, y/n, wanna—can you take it all the way? wanna hear you gag on it, please,” and honestly, with hearing the gojo satoru beg for you to deepthroat his dick, you couldn’t wait to do it.

the two of you decided to switch positions once more, with him sitting on the edge of the bed and you on the ground, with a towel below you for your knees and his dripping cum, with your pretty face below his intimidating cock. your pink, sticky tongue lapped at the length of his cock repeatedly, earning soft groans of praise from him before you kitten-licked his pre-cum smothered head once and decided to take him down halfway, eliciting a loud and harsh and surprised and moan-like “fuck!” from him before he put a hand in your hair. between gritted teeth and a flushed face, gojo asked if he could control you ’til he cums; you said yes.

“oh baby, oh fuck, your mouth is sooo fuckin’ good. . hah, my boy has, aah, the best fuckin’ mouth ever—” he mumbled, eyes staring holes into your heads controlled motions as you got lower and lower on his cock. gags weren’t far and few in between, which made his dick twitch on the back of your tongue each time you (successfully) attempted to have him release you in order for you to breathe. once the two of you mutually agreed that you’re both ready for you to take it down to the base, he did just that. slowly and gently cajoling you as you went along, his toes curling against the carpeted floor of your bedroom once your nose dug into his pubes. gojo thrusted his hips softly, attempting to get deeper into your throat before he head you start to gag and spasm below him.

“one more time, baby, almost there, i swear—” before gojo could finish his sentence you deepthroated his cock once more, making him immediately paint your throat with his cum he pulled you back to his tip as you swallowed, letting a few more ropes leave his aching tip and land on your tongue. the addicting scene of your tongue sticking out for him, your pleading eyes looking up at him, basically urging him on, made him want to breed your aching, puffy pussy more. he watched as you swallowed his cum, knowing that more of it was in your stomach made his guts churn out of pure ecstasy.

“my boy’s so pretty.” gojo whispered later into the night, when your pussy was warming his dick and your back turned to him with it pressed against his chest, as he softly thrusted his hips, “with the prettiest pussy and prettiest lips and the most perfect body ever.”

links: prequel post (💫) & fem. reader (💫).

© vampdes . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

tasting your lip balm-blurb

summary : you got a new lip balm set, with a bunch of different flavours, and harry wants to try them all by kissing you

warning : kissing, fluff!!!

*

You hummed contentedly as you examined the package that had just arrived on your doorstep. It was a lip balm set you had ordered online, containing a variety of different fun flavors like cotton candy, mint chocolate chip, and root beer float.

Lip balm was one of your simple pleasures in life. You loved trying new flavors and the soothing feeling of applying a fresh coat to your lips. This variety pack seemed perfect for mixing things up.

Smiling, you tucked the box under your arm and headed inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. You could hear Harry's familiar voice drifting from the living room as he chatted animatedly on the phone.

"No, no, I definitely think we should explore that idea for the bridge," he said as you rounded the corner. "The melody could use a little--" He stopped abruptly when he spotted you, his eyes lighting up.

"Hey, I'll call you back," Harry said quickly before ending the call and tossing his phone aside. In two strides he was across the room, enveloping you in a warm embrace and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"Mmm, you smell amazing," he murmured, breathing you in. "Did you get a new perfume?"

You laughed lightly, returning his hug. "No perfume, just my regular soap. But speaking of scents…" You pulled back with a grin, holding up the package. "I got that lip balm set I was telling you about!"

Harry's brows raised with interest as you pulled out the box and began showing him all the different flavors. "Wow, those all look so good! Which one are you going to try first, love?"

"Well…" You hummed thoughtfully, examining each adorable little tub. "Maybe the strawberry one to start?"

You popped off the lid and took a sniff, sighing in delight at the sweet, fruity scent. Carefully swiping some on your lips, you puckered them together to distribute the balm before glancing up at Harry with a smile.

He was watching you intently, eyes focused on your mouth and the new shine gracing your lips. Suddenly, his hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over the soft skin as he leaned in.

"Let me have a taste," he murmured lowly before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

You sighed into the embrace, noses brushing as Harry's mouth moved over yours with purpose. His tongue swept out to trace along your lower lip, and you could feel him shudder at the flavor.

"Strawberry…" he mumbled as he pulled away just enough to speak, plump lips brushing against yours. "One of my favorites."

He dove back in again, hands sliding into your hair to angle your head as he deepened the kiss. You were a bit dazed by his fervor, clinging to the front of his shirt as his tongue delved between your lips in search of more of that sweet fruity taste.

Finally, Harry released you with one last smacking peck, lips a touch redder from your balm. His eyes twinkled with mirth as a lazy grin spread over his features.

"Definitely a new favorite for me," he said teasingly, giving your hips a squeeze.

You rolled your eyes fondly, tucking a lock of tousled hair behind your ear. "If I had known buying new lip balm would get such a…vigorous reaction, I would have done it sooner."

"Oh, is that so?" Harry quirked a brow playfully. He snatched up the package and started examining the flavors, biting his lip enticingly. "Well in that case…"

Your eyes widened as he suddenly scooped you up, carrying you bridal style down the hallway despite your squeals of protest. He kicked open the bedroom door and deposited you on the bed in a tangle of giggles.

"I think we should sample some more, don't you?" he asked with faux innocence. Before you could reply, Harry had pried open the cotton candy balm and was carefully applying it to your already plump lips.

"Harry, what are you--mmph!"

He cut you off with another ardent kiss, melting against you as his tongue mapped every sweet-tasting inch of your mouth. His hands stroked along your sides almost reverently.

"Can definitely taste the sugary notes," he mumbled against your lips before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. "But I think…I need a little more…"

You shivered as he tugged the collar of your shirt aside, nosing at the hollow of your throat before dragging his tongue in one tantalizing lick up the column of your neck. Groaning in satisfaction, he sucked a mark just below your jaw, clearly savoring the remnants of the cotton candy flavor.

"Oh, I quite like this one," Harry purred, voice gravelly with unrestrained desire. "You'll have to wear it more often."

Before you could recover, he was swiping the root beer float balm over your tingling lips, lapping at them hungrily as soon as the sweet and creamy taste hit his tongue. One large hand palmed your breast possessively while the other disappeared beneath your shirt, blazing a trail over your skin.

As if sensing your befuddlement, Harry pulled back to meet your hazy gaze with sparkling green eyes. He nuzzled your flushed cheek tenderly.

"You taste so lovely, darling…don't think I could ever pick just one favorite. Want to try them all on you." His lips quirked in that dimpled smile of his. "If that's alright?"

"I--yes, of course," you stammered, arching into his touch. He groaned gratefully and returned his focus to your lips, alternating between delicate sucking and sensual caresses of his tongue with every new flavor applied.

The sun had long since set by the time Harry finally sat back, sweaty curls awry and shirt rucked up to expose the tattoos you loved tracing. You stretched out languidly beside him, thoroughly kissed and deliciously tingly all over from his indulgent ministrations.

The variety pack of balms lay scattered haphazardly about the sheets between you. When Harry reached for the last unopened one, a contented hum slipped past your lips.

"So…your favorite?" you asked, tilting your head inquisitively as he popped the lid. He met your gaze and smiled, reverent.

"All of them, angel. Each one tasted divine on these sweet lips," he crooned, ducking to reacquaint his mouth with yours. You responded lazily, utterly sated and intoxicated by his love.

When he finally pulled away to suck in a breath, you eyed the discarded tub with amusement.

"And that flavor? What did you think?"

Harry considered his answer for a long moment before his face melted into an adoring grin.

"The best for last…" He snaked an arm around your waist, drawing your body flush against his. "My favorite is you, without question or embellishment."

You would have to order more lip balm sets soon.

*

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[qweenofurheart]

comic i freehanded that might or might not become something idk!

i was thinking a lot about how jason and dick's dynamic could be made very complex and painful (ignore the way that i completely alter canon in order to make this work haha)

doomed siblings... jason and dick don’t talk anymore because of lots of reasons (besides the obvious replacement thing): dick’s undying loyalty to batman, jason’s distortion of the nightwing role, etc.

and they kind of use tim as a reconciliation tool: dick shuns and eventually fires tim in order to please jason. jason tries to use tim as a way to get back into the family. 

i think the dynamic works in an interesting way: jason is the more honest communicator because he’s less suppressive of his emotions. but it also makes his displays of anger and frustration with dick more obvious and damaging. 

dick wants to appear in-control and un-volatile so he completely crushes his guilt and desire for reconciliation. but it also means he might appear almost casual about the situation because he doesn’t want to get his emotions involved

so while on the outside, jason is like weirdly obsessed about gaining acceptance and dick just ignores him/acts impassive, jason still has so much hate towards him and dick probably feels his heart breaking every time he thinks about what they've become

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚ Wait For Your Love

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Angst, crying, alcohol, kissing, cussing, fluff at the end.

✧.* Summary - After not seeing each other for almost a year due to a breakup, a whirlwind of emotions flooded both Joost and (Y/N). The desperation to be with each other again took over for the both of them.

✧.* Extra- We can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande crying emoji heartbreak emoji.

✧.* Word Count - 1,998

The club was always packed with drunk assholes and beautiful women dancing. It was a place to have fun. Dance, drink, and not worry about tomorrow (unless someone had to work). (Y/N) and her friends decided to go clubbing to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Everyone wanted to get shit-faced drunk and some wanted to end up in a man or woman’s bed by the end of the night. (Y/N) couldn’t wait to get drunk and dance her ass off to the music that was playing. As soon as they get into the place, everyone was already ordering shots and mixed drinks.

Even though she wanted to get drunk, (Y/N) decided to get mixed drinks because she hated the bitter taste of hard liquor in tiny shot glasses. She decided to take her night a little slow to be more alive in the club. (Y/N) felt like she needed the time out with her friends. After a massive heart break 10 months ago, it felt like she couldn’t move from her home, especially her bed. Her friends would try to get her to hang out, but most of the time all she wanted to do was stay in bed and stalk her ex-boyfriend’s social media.

By the time she was on her second mixed drink, some of her friends were already on their 4th shot of the night. The music was starting to get to everyone and they all dragged each other to where everyone was dancing. The DJ was playing American 2000’s music so the whole club was dancing and/or grinding on one another. (Y/N) and her best friend were dancing and practically grinding on each other to the beat of the music while singing and laughing together. Everyone was having the best time.

That was until (Y/N) mysteriously smelled a familiar scent she hadn’t smelled in a while. His scent. She slowly stopped dancing and started looking around to see if she can catch him somewhere in the crowd. (Y/N)’s best friend looked at her, “Are you okay? What happened?”

(Y/N) didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night with the topic of her ex-boyfriend, “Im fine, girl. I just need to use the bathroom and then im gonna get a shot.” (Y/N) walked away but stopped when she felt someone grab her wrist. She turned around and saw her best friend holding her wrist.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked. (Y/N) simply shook her head and continued making her way to the restroom. (Y/N) thanked God when she saw there wasn’t a line to go to the bathroom. She immediately walked in and looked at herself in the mirror.

She let out a sigh and was trying to convince her brain to not freak out because she smelled his scent. She didn’t want to ruin everyones night, she just wanted to have fun with no worries. She quickly fixed her lip liner and lips and head out to the bar. When she got to the bar to order her drink, she had a feeling someone was watching her. She decided to ignore it because there were a lot of people in the club so it didn’t matter.

The feeling of being watched got stronger by the seconds and it bothered (Y/N). She looked around to catch whoever was staring at her and when she turned around, she locked eyes with him. Joost Klein, her ex-boyfriend. She felt her heart race and her stomach drop to the floor. He looked extremely handsome and beautiful. They stared at each other strongly until the bartender put (Y/N)’s drink on the table, making her break the contact and turn around.

Even though they stared at each other for a couple of seconds, it felt like an eternity for them. (Y/N) leaned forward towards the bar table and let out a deep sigh. She was trying to keep herself together. Tapping her foot against the floor, sighing, but all of that didn’t work because she felt her eyes start to water. She knew she couldn’t stay in that place much longer. She didn’t want to look like the weird bitch crying in the club. She quickly took her shot and sped out the doors, walking toward the empty side of the club wall. She started to hyperventilate before letting the tears spill. She covered her mouth to prevent making any sound, but everything was going crazy in her mind, she didn’t care who listened.

Beautiful moments between (Y/N) and Joost started flashing in her mind. (Y/N) truly loved Joost. She still loves him. She truly felt a connection with that man. He always took care of her and she returned the nurturing energy all the time. They never had a dull day together, it was always filled with happiness and laughter. Everyday was a blessing for them. Everyone, fans and friends, idolized their relationship, so when they broke up, everyone was filled with shock and confusion.

The day Joost left (Y/N) was the day she died. She didn’t want to go out anymore. She had no motivation to do the things she loved. Everything reminded her of Joost. Even when she went to the places her and Joost last visited together, she would always tear up a bit. The truth was, (Y/N) was waiting for Joost to come back. She was waiting for his love to find itself back to her. The more she waited, the worse she got. (Y/N) slowly started detaching herself from him 7 months after the break up and was slowly started bettering herself. But in that moment in the club, felt like all of her self improvement was tossed out the window.

While (Y/N) was in her head, she hadn’t notice a tall male figure walking towards her side. When she looked, it felt like her heart skipped a beat. There he was, staring at her with a yearning look with sadness in his eyes. (Y/N)’s tears started coming in more but she didn’t want to cry more in front of him so she looked away and looked up at the sky.

“Hey,” she heard Joost say. That didn’t make things better. Hearing his voice made her tear up even more. At that point, she didn’t care and let her tears flow.

“Hi,” she said back.

Joost stared at (Y/N) and started tearing up as well. He was finally looking at his girl again after almost a year of not being able to. Even with running mascara, puffy lips, red eyes, and a tired look on her face, she still looked pretty as ever to him. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of his teary eyes and got closer to her. “How are you?” was all he said.

“Uhm, i’m… doing good, I guess. What about you?” she asked.

“Im doing pretty well too. I just saw the most gorgeous girl at the club, but she walked out and now she’s crying,” he said. He wanted to lighten up the mood. While his body language gave off zero energy, deep down he wanted to hold (Y/N) and kiss her tears away. Joost missed (Y/N) more than anything and seeing her teary eyed made his heart ache.

(Y/N) let out a chuckle and went silent. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two until Joost broke the silence, “I’ve missed you.”

That made (Y/N) tear up even more. “Then why did you leave me,” She asked.

Joost stayed silent for a moment before answering, “Honestly, I don’t know why. At the time, my mental health was down the toilet and I thought you were the reason why. I thought leaving you was going to fix it.”

Hearing that made (Y/N)’s heart ache. “Did it?” she asked.

“No. It didn’t. It actually got worse. When I realized you weren’t the problem, I felt like it was too late for me. I thought you hated me and didn’t want to talk to me. I thought of that saying you told your friend once ‘You made your bed, so now lay in it’ and that’s exactly what I did. I punished myself for ruining something so beautiful,” he replied.

Deep down, (Y/N) was happy when she realized she wasn’t the problem. But at the same time, she was sad for Joost when he thought she was mad at him. “Can I tell you something?” she asked and he nodded, “I was never mad at you. You could never be mad at someone you truly love.”

Love.

She said love. Not loved. That made Joost smile.

“For a good few months, I was stuck in a delusion that you would come back. I wanted to reach out to you so badly, but my friends kept telling me to let you feel my absence and that that was the best thing to make someone realize their mistake,” she continued.

“They were right,” he spoke, “when I realized you were gone, I wanted to crawl back to your apartment and beg for your forgiveness. I had no one to text me ‘good morning’, ‘good night’, ‘i love you’, ‘i miss you,’ it was hell for me.”

Their confessions made both of them realize that they were still in love with each other. They never stopped. They followed through with the, ‘if it was meant to be, let it be,’ and it brought them back. They never gave up on each other, even when they were apart. That is the true beauty of love.

Joost grabbed (Y/N)’s chin, making her look up at him with her beautiful teary doe eyes. “baby, I am so sorry for breaking your heart. I regret it so much and seeing you makes my heart ache and happy at the same time. I would do anything to be with you again,” he said with a yearning voice.

All (Y/N) could do was look at him. Her eyes started to become more teary. “I love you. I never stopped loving you,” she replied. They both started getting closer and closer until their lips touched. It was electrifying for both of them. The more their lips were in contact, the more loving and passionate it became. (Y/N) wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss.

When they pulled away, they looked at each other in the eyes. Deepening the intimate moment. The moment was ruined when Joost’s phone rang. When Joost checked who it was, (Y/N) saw it was one of his friend’s. She frowned because she thought their moment was over, but instead, Joost ignored the call and pulled her close to him by the waist. He laid his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, wishing this was his forever moment.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Getting comfortable and feeling each other’s presence after months of not being able to. It all felt like a dream come true. Until reality hit (Y/N). She didn’t want to break away from the moment, but she kind of had no choice,

“Joost.”

“Hm?”

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

(Y/N) giggled, “I do. My friends are probably looking for me and I have to visit family tomorrow in the morning,” she said while pulling away from his embrace. Joost and frowned. He didn’t want her to go. (Y/N) kissed him on the cheek and started walking away.

Joost watched as she walked away before calling her name, “Can we… call tonight?” he said, referring to staying on facetime while they slept like they use to. (Y/N) nodded and blew him a kiss. Joost practically sprinted towards her and passionately kissed her, one last time for that night.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” She said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, handsome.” She said. He raised his pinky, indicating a pinky promise gesture. She raised her pinky and hooked it onto his. Settling the promise.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Guys was this good be honest also im too lazy to spell check

[3amfanfiction]

So Simon Riley is THE strict daddy dom and he flourishes in that role. There’s no one made for it quite like him.

But our baby is traumatized, folks.

He’s seen things that no one would ever want to have seen. And that leaves scars. And with how he treats you in the bedroom (with your enthusiastic consent) sometimes his feelings will come forward in an unexpected way.

You were both breathing heavily, coming down from an intense session, neither of you able to move quite yet in order to get cleaned up.

After a minute you were once more in your body and you look over to Simon to check in. He’s normally up before you, getting the washcloth, holding a cup of water for you to drink, soft touches brushing over any lingering marks, sweet words being murmured.

To your surprise he’s still in the same position, breath continuing slightly too fast to be normal. Simon? Hesitantly, your hand stretches across the bed to rest your fingertips on his wrist, your touch as soft as possible.

You know for sure something is wrong when he pulls back from your touch, as if ashamed.

Simon, sweetheart, is everything okay? When there’s no response you switch tactics. Scooting as close as you dared while still not touching him, you begin to talk.

‘You did so great for me baby and no one is mad at you. You were absolutely perfect.’ ‘You made me feel so good and gave me exactly what i wanted.’ ‘You’re so good to me sweetheart. You’re SO good.’ ‘Can i touch you?’

When he finally nods, his breathing becoming steadier as you ramble soothing affirmations, you don’t waste any time before placing your hand gently on his wrist. You start stoking back and forth, dragging your fingers and palm along his forearm.

There we go, love. Everything is gonna be okay. I loved every part of that and i love every part of you okay?

When he finally moves its to pull you to his chest, your face tucked into his shoulder before he rolls over you, cocooning you in his arms, sandwiched between his body and the bed. His arms tighten around you before he lets out a shaky breath and settles in for the next little bit, still focusing on your soothing words and your hands stroking his back softly.

He’s so strong for you, all the time. And every once in a while you get to be strong for him, too.

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

masterlist

It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[ghouljams]

Would it be possible for us to get a sub!cowboyprice fic similar to the ghost one where he has reader ride him? I’m such a price lover I NEED to see him needy 😭

I find it difficult putting Price in positions where he can be more submissive, I think it's because I see him so solidly as a very traditional Dom. That isn't to say I don't think he has his moments. Long days make needy men.

John skips lunch because a cow gets loose. His horse bucks over a garter snake. His lighter is out of juice and none of his boys carry matches. By the time he gets back to the farmhouse he's never wanted a smoke more in his life. You're just getting out of the car, still in your work clothes, smelling like hospital cleaner and looking just as tired as he is coming off of a 12 hour shift. John grabs you around the middle and hauls you up the front porch steps, then upstairs to the bedroom. You kick and yell at him all you like, demanding he at least tell you what happened, but the only thing you get out of him is a:

"On your stomach," as he tosses you onto the bed. A demand you're quick to comply with when he starts yanking your scrubs down.

"Just need somethin' to go right," He mumbles to himself, helping you lift your hips to get your underwear down your legs. His hands squeeze your ass, spreading you apart and squishing you back together, he pulls back and spanks one cheek then the other to watch them jiggle. You hold yourself on your elbows, watching your husband's focus narrow and narrow, until it's just you.

You arch your back for him, slide your arms forward against the duvet with a sigh, his fingers are tight on your hips when he buries his face between your legs. His lips open and close, sucking wet kisses against your slit, his tongue parting your folds just to kiss your hold properly. He drags his tongue up in one long wet slide from your clit to your ass, before he's turning his head to bite the meat of your ass. You hum, push into the feeling, one of his hands loops around your thigh, holding your hips in position as he dives in again and again with hot, needy, swipes of his tongue. You can almost feel the pinch of his brow. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your thighs and you let your eyes flutter closed just to enjoy the feeling of his tongue on you.

Poor desperate man. You wiggle your hips, let him shake his head and slobber your slick onto your thighs. He sucks at your clit, pulling at it as he suck, pop, suck, pops it out of his mouth. You do your best not to squirm, to hold still so he can take what you need, even when the pull of his lips makes your muscles tense. Heat drips down your spine, your pussy tingling with desire, hot for every touch he'll give you. He scrapes his teeth over your slit, over the soft outer folds of your cunt, only to soothe his tongue over them again. John pulls back, presses two fingers into you and curls them. The sudden stretch, the immediate thrust against your sweet spot, you gasp and feel your back arch painfully against the bed.

"Talk t'me," John says, it sounds like an order, but it's more desperate than that. There's a tinge at the edge of it, a need that only you can fill. His fingers slide in and out of you, pulling heat and friction against the entrance to your cunt.

"Feels good," You manage, your body doesn't want to speak, it wants to writhe and moan, but you try to pull yourself into your head. "Doin' good," You can't think what you're supposed to be saying. He wanted something to go right and you- fuck your back hurts the way it's bending, your hips lifting off the bed to follow his fingers. His breath is heavy behind you, and you're sure he's enjoying the show. He scissors his fingers, adding a new layer to the stretch. John leans over you to kiss your shoulder, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Good?" He asks, and you nod quickly.

"Good, so good, you're so good John." You mumble, your voice weak and punctuated by moans.

"Look so pretty like this." He mutters, kissing your shoulder again. You can feel the wet smear of his beard even through your scrub top. He moves back to your cunt, his fingers pulling free to slick his cock. You almost expect to feel the blunt head against your entrance before his mouth is on you again.

He groans at the way you drip over his tongue, the muscle licking tight circles around your clit. You do your best to glance over your shoulder at him. John's hand is wrapped around his fat cock, the angry red tip leaking pre-cum over his fingers as he pumps the heavy length. Your skin heats at that, you know he gets off on eating you out, but that doesn't mean seeing it does nothing to you. The next lap of his tongue splits the folds of your cunt so he can suck slick straight from the source. The electric feeling of it buzzes through your muscles, and winds itself tight around your stomach.

It's easier to keep your head without the pulse of his fingers in and out of you. Easier, but that doesn't mean you feel entirely coherent. Your body still swims with heat and the steady thrum of pleasure from John's mouth. Praise drops from your lips, telling him what a good man he is, how good he makes you feel, how badly you want him, how much you love him. You dissolve rapidly, his lips suctioned to your clit, his nose pressing against your hole, he shakes his head, groans, and you feel like you're babbling. There's not a solid line of thought in your head, only that you have to make noise, he asked you to make noise, so you do. You moan and swear and feel "I love you"s drip from your lips, all the while your stomach tightens and tightens.

John's teeth bite at your clit and the shock of pain is enough to send you shivering over the edge. His tongue rolls apologetically over your clit, working you through the fluttering heat that makes your cunt clench. He barely pulls away, cleaning you with slow broad strokes of his tongue. His hand is wet when it touches your thigh again.

"Up," John orders, and you scramble to push yourself up onto your knees. You hardly have time to ask how he wants you before he's forcing your legs apart, moving you further up the bed to situate himself under you again.

"John," You blink at the man tugging at your hips a second time.

"Take a seat love," He breathes, his eyes fixed on your cunt, "Just lemme taste you till I'm full."

Well, who are you to refuse your man a request like that?

[greenorangevioletgrass]

the albatross, here to destroy you (a.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

Summary: three years, three encounters. First, a chance meeting between two rising stars seeking an escape leaves a handprint on their hearts.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smoking, language, greek mythology references, hella unresolved sexual tension(!!!), art is highkey a baby and lowkey a brat lol, did i mention unresolved sexual tension?, sooo much pining

Notes: this idea has consumed my waking days for weeks. I contemplated making it a really long fic, but after a long and careful consideration, I have decided to make it a trilogy! Two reasons; a) it’s gonna be really long, and b) I wanted to put Art’s look as a reference in each part lmao. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Part One: London, July 2011.

It was quite an impressive feat. 23-year-old American rising star Art Donaldson had miraculously beat the defending champion-slash-legend Rafael Nadal at the Wimbledon final.

Or so they said.

You don’t know, nor do you care much, to be quite honest. You were basically ordered to attend by your publicist, outfits picked out, hair and makeup team on full throttle only to have you sit pretty on the side of the Centre Court. And now, after milling around and halfheartedly mingling at the afterparty, you decide to give yourself some respite and slip away to the balcony.

“Oh, shit—” the man quickly turns back and stubs his cigarette on the railing, waving away any trace of smoke.

(You say man in a very broad term. He looks more like a teenage boy with that messy blond mop and skittish way about him.)

You raise your hands, showing no threat. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this balcony was taken.”

“Wait, no. Please.” He stops. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. The only thing more embarrassing than getting caught smoking was getting caught smoking by a pretty girl. And pretty is… a fucking gross understatement, based on what he was seeing. “Don’t leave on my account.”

“You sure?”

You flash him that soft, understanding smile and he very nearly asks you not to leave, like ever. But fortunately, he’s got enough game to hold his tongue and smile back at you, “There’s more than enough room for both of us here, right?”

Technically, the balcony is big enough for the two of you to stand on opposite corners without even addressing each other. But his fingers are resting on a pack of Marlboro Green, and you bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. “And more than enough cigarettes, I hope?”

He’s not sure what he was hoping for, but he sure is surprised to hear you accept his invitation to stay. Gosh, he must’ve looked like an idiot right now. “Sure, of course.”

He slides a cigarette out of the pack as he offers it to you, readily leaning in with his zippo. For a split second, the two of you share a breath in the space that he encloses with one hand as he lights your cigarette. You would be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter.

“So…” you inhale, taking the nicotine hit to calm your thoughts, “I thought smoking was bad for athletes.”

“I thought smoking was bad for singers too, but I guess it’s less frowned upon, huh?” He murmurs, trying to balance a fresh cigarette off of the side of his lips, smirking at you over the flicker of flame he started.

“Touché.” You lean your back against the railing. It’s an interesting game of chess you’re playing. Each of your reputations precede you and don’t at the same time. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out here smoking on your own, instead of in there…” Celebrating is left unsaid, although the implied word hangs in big and bold letters.

“Ah well, maybe this is my way of celebrating. We’re allowed one vice every now and again, right?”

You look at him like it’s a bullshit excuse—and it is.

“This is gonna sound insane, but…” he takes a drag, looking out at the landscape before him, “I don’t feel like I should be celebrating.”

You look at him like that bullshit excuse grew a new head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked hard for it and I’m glad it paid off, but…” he flicks the ash on the end of his cigarette three times. “I could’ve been better. Quicker. Won more points earlier. Beat him faster. And until I can do that, I don’t think I deserve a celebration just yet.”

You hum softly. “Sounds like you’re making a Sisyphus out of yourself. That can’t be fun.”

His mouth tugs into a crooked smile, not expecting to be called out like this. “I mean, at least I’m not rolling a boulder up a hill. I’d take tennis over that any day.”

“Yeah, but it seems like tennis is your boulder up a hill.”

“Touché.” He smiles bashfully as he takes a long drag. And then, he offers his hand. “I’m Art Donaldson, by the way.”

It’s a formality at this point. He knows who you are, heard your songs on the radio and saw your face on billboards more times than he can count. Hell, he saw you on the stands in your little Dior sunglasses earlier—and you saw him looking, just for a moment, sweat dripping down his perfect nose and all. But out of courtesy, you tell him your name and accept his handshake.

You pull your hand away, and he almost groans in protest. But again, he holds his horses. “Alright, I’ll bite. If I’m Sisyphus, what does that make you?”

“Oh, definitely Dionysus. Living on wine and theater and good vibes.” You’ve got that shit locked and loaded. It’s obvious that you’ve thought of this before.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Well… as long as you don’t sacrifice me to the maenads, right?”

“Can’t promise you that,” you quip back, tapping the gray off of your remaining cigarette. Pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t make the obnoxious remark that Dionysus is also the god of sex, as boys would do. Even more so that he knows enough to know the difference between the sirens and the maenads.

There’s no fighting the raging flush in his cheeks anymore, but he just hopes you would spare him. “Will you at least promise to make it swift?”

It comes out faster than a trainwreck, but without even blinking, the one thing that comes out of your mouth is, “What if I wanna take my time with you?”

Fuck.

The party carries on inside, although Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Cherie Amour’ sounds a mile away. His cigarette smoke comes out in a stuttered huff, as he looks away, not knowing what to do with himself. Eventually, though, he recovers, taking another drag. “It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, huh?”

“I suppose not.” You sigh into a smile, exuding a flume of smoke through your nose. Shit, he doesn’t know which one is hotter; that, or the lipstick mark on your filter. Or the pensive look as you watch the party through the window.

Oh, he’s down bad.

“So, Dionysus…” he leans out against the railing, flicking ash off his stub one, two, three. “What brings you out here? You a tennis fan?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… don’t even really understand how it worked until today,” you admit bashfully. Somehow the truth doesn’t feel so embarrassing, even though you spent the day lying through your teeth. “Not until I saw you play. Which… congrats, by the way.”

“Wow. Thanks.” He’s not sure whether it’s the earnestness in your congratulations, or the fact that the game finally makes sense because of him, but his heart grows three sizes.

“But, yeah, no, my publicist dragged me here kicking and screaming.”

“So you were forced into a party, huh? That’s not very Dionysian of you…” He muses playfully, and those lines on each side of his lips aching to break out into a full smile. And they do. And it warms your heart that those smile lines only emphasizes the way his face lights up. “Nah, I get what you mean. My agent had to drag me out of the locker room to make an ‘appearance.’”

“Yeah, she said something about… shifting into a classier, more grownup image?”

“By watching a couple of dudes hit a ball with a racket?”

“By sitting there and looking pretty. It’s the only reason I’m all decked out in this ridiculous fucking thing,” you look down at your outfit with a grumble. Of all the days you could’ve run into someone cute, you’re in a fucking pantsuit like some middle-aged politician.

“But you do look pretty,” he replies without even blinking.

“Thanks, it’s Ralph Lauren.” You smile faux sweetly. “I believe I’m contractually obligated to say that.”

“Still pretty,” and he means it, lackadaisical smile and all. The ivory cape-like blazer is an interesting cut that goes down to your knees, and it makes you look regal. The cut of the pants makes your legs go for miles. It certainly doesn’t hurt that your off-white shirt is unbuttoned halfway, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

(And hey, he’s still a guy. Can you blame him?)

He has this way of looking at you. Like he’s studying you. It would’ve been unsettling, if he weren’t so fucking beautiful to look at and you don’t mind an excuse to stare back and admire the angular lines on his face. Like Apollo in the moonlight. “What?”

Art taps his cigarette much more deliberately and inhales, exhales out of the side of his mouth, much more deliberately this time. “I think you’re more Aphrodite than Dionysus.”

You take another drag. “How so?”

“First of all, for a god of parties, you don’t like to party all that much,” he grins knowingly, smugly, like he’s proud to have figured you out. But his smile softens, and there’s intensity behind his eyes. “And because you’re beautiful. And dangerous.”

Your mouth twists, pausing for a long moment. To calm yourself. To gather yourself. “But it’s so cliched, though…”

“Well, who would you rather be? Medusa, maybe?” He turns his body, leaning on his side against the railing so he’s fully facing you, and you can’t help but mirror his position.

You raise a forefinger pointedly, French manicured nails on display. “Hey. I think Medusa gets a bad rep. Neptune fucked her over, but she was the one cursed.”

“And what, you think you’re as cursed as Medusa, too?”

You shrug, maybe.

Despite the weight of your answer, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “There’s no way you’re cursed. A curse wouldn’t be so beautiful.”

“But a curse could be deceiving, no?”

“Or maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Maybe you think you’re cursed, even when you might not necessarily be.”

“Oh, just like you’re so inclined to keep pushing your boulder up a hill?”

Art blinks, and sucks his teeth bashfully. Just when he thought he’s got you figured out… Check and mate. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were some kind of an oracle. Like Cassandra.”

Your eyebrows raise in interest.

“You have this strange, unnerving ability to see right through me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, or you’re just very observant, but…” he trails off thoughtfully and then nods like he’s made up his mind. “Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” you echo quietly. “I like that.”

“Mm-hm. I’d say it’s a very fitting title for you.”

That fond little glint in his eyes is becoming a staple in the way he looks at you. And you don’t ever wanna see it dim. So you speak up again, leaning in conspiratorially. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

“My parents almost named me Cassandra.”

His jaw drops, dumbstruck. “Shut the fuck up.” His grandmother would have smacked him on the back of his head, knowing the profanity he uses (to a girl he likes, no less). But out of all the things he tried to figure out about her, he never expected to get this one right.

“I shit you not.” You watch him double down laughing, grinning to yourself. “Freaky coincidence, right?”

“Or the Fates working overtime. I’m sure they’d be laughing at us right now.” He looks up at the deep blue sky with a shake of the head.

You wave at the stars, taking a mock bow to your invisible audience. “Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the show, guys.” The laughter lingers on your lips, and you wonder if it tastes the same on his. “We really are just the court jesters, huh?”

He nods. “Although I wouldn’t mind playing the fool for you.” Maybe it’s the drinks or the cigarettes or the unlikeliest conversation with the most stunning creature he has ever laid eyes on, but at one point, his inhibitions are starting to leave him.

It’s now or never.

The dubious smile that comes out of you is involuntary. He can’t be serious, right? “You are so full of shit, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe me?”

You look at him like, obviously.

“What are you gonna do, punish me for lying?” There’s that glint again, the bite against the inside of your cheek, and Art steps in.

Your heart catches. He doesn’t feel much like a boy now, inches away from you with a disarming look, his intentions crystal clear. And your head drops for a moment with a wry smile. “You can’t say that to me...”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because? His grin widens, because for the first time this whole evening, he’s got the upper hand. And he likes it.

“I…” You blink at him, finding yourself cornered. Thankfully, though, your phone comes to the rescue, buzzing in your pocket and popping the tension between you and Art like a balloon. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I—”

“Yeah, sure.” he backs away a step, flashing an understanding smile. He watches you pick up the phone, looking out at the London sky. He would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He just loves to watch you gnaw at your lower lip in thought, study your moonbathed profile.

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of your voice.

“Hi… no, I’m still at the— yeah. I’m not sure… are you still with…? Oh, good. Good, just checking. Say hi to everyone for me... Yeah, I’ll call you when I get back?” You catch Art’s gaze, and your stomach drops as you hear the dreaded words on the line. But again, you’re backed away into a corner. So you look away and say it back, “I love you, too. Bye.”

There it is.

Art really should’ve known this. He should’ve seen it coming. You were way too good to be true, but that doesn’t stop him from getting disappointed. No, his heart breaks on the spot, and he’s pretty sure you can hear it.

(You can’t. But you can see it in his face.)

The silence is awkward. It’s ugly. The steady sounds of cars passing by on the ground feels like it’s right in front of you. For the longest time, the two of you can only look out onto the horizon. Anxiously tracing the outlines of skyscrapers in sight.

He is reeling, like he’s been shaken awake from a dream. “So, I take it you’re taken, huh?”

The look you give him is apologetic, and it kills you as much as it destroys him. “Yeah.”

Art rubs at his jaw like he’s willing himself to say something, anything. “I see you’ve cursed me, then.”

“What?”

It takes him a moment to gather his words. Put together his thoughts in a way that you would understand. He didn’t mean it to sound so damning, but it’s the first thing that comes out. It feels like taking a boulder out of his throat. “By making me like you.”

Oh.

Your face falls. Of course. How cruel of you to play his game, knowing you’re setting him up to lose. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you, I swear,” he quickly interjects. “It’s… not your fault one of us is a fool.” He smiles ruefully at nothing.

“It’s a shame,” you quietly admit.

And even then he can’t be mad at you. Not from the way he looks at you oh so tenderly. “It’s a real shame, love.”

There are no words, no more witty remarks. They’ve all been exhausted out of you. There’s nothing left to exchange but that soft look of resignation. Of defeat.

Of wishful thinking.

The cigarettes have long died out and forgotten, only the filters left between your fingers. Your ashes fall in a big chunk on the railing, while Art’s… have free-dived and dispersed in the muggy night air.

“I should go.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Let you go back to your party.”

Art can only nod. He keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to not beg you to stay.

You reach out, almost pulling back, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s just a nothing hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Art.”

He covers your hand in his, just for a second. His thumb caressing the back of your hand. His heart is in pieces, but at least he will have this. If nothing else, he will still know how your hand feels in his.

And just as quickly as it happens, it ends. Art doesn’t dare watch you leave. He misses your touch instantly, and the sound of your footsteps, and the door opening and closing follows. As Al Green’s ‘What Am I Gonna Do With Myself’ plays on in the party, Art looks out towards the London sky and lights another cigarette.

[inevesgf]

dating headcanons • formula one

request rules here.

formula one masterlist here.

summary → what dating some of the formula one drivers would be like and their love languages. includes verstappen, norris, sainz, leclerc, piastri, and ricciardo. female!reader x driver, gn!reader x driver.

authors note ꕤ missed doing little head canons so i decided to group them all together <3 hope u lot enjoy. definitely going to start writing more for f1!!! my apologies because i wrote a lot for some drivers and not that much for some of the others, oopsies..

MAX VERSTAPPEN … will try to seem like such a casual lover, but is probably secretly obsessed with you. loves having you at every race because you overall uplift his mood a lot. he’s usually a bit stressed before races, being a perfectionist, but having you there instantly calms him down. he tries his hardest to see you immediately after every race even though press and his crew always gets to him first. if he isn’t able to see you after the race, he spends the rest of the night keeping you by his side rather you guys are staying in or going out to party. even though he can be very busy, he always makes sure to set time aside to be with just you. if he ever so has to cancel on plans, he is always sure to make them up ten times better than they were originally supposed to be. i believe max’a love language is probably physical touch. after a rough day, he just likes to lay in bed or on the couch with you. lazy days in are something max enjoys a lot, especially considering he is almost always busy. like i said, he loves to cuddle and have nice, sweet, and deep conversations with you about life, racing, etc. he trusts you and basically only you wholeheartedly with a lot of information.

LANDO NORRIS … lando is probably one of the most loving boyfriends in the world. when having you at his races, he always claims you to be his ‘good luck charm’ and having you there overall raises his hope and confidence for the race. after making pole multiple times and winning in miami, he always makes sure to see you right after as he treats seeing you there as a special gift. when hes not home and isn’t able to see you, he surprises you with little gifts that he sends to you and even makes sure he can talk to you on the phone as much as possible. when he’s home, he plans special date nights that are just you two without any interruptions. he orders out takeaway sometimes just so you two can have alone time and snuggle up to watch a movie. lando also definitely loves to go out on fun dates including things like going on a drive with no destination, or roller skating even if he may be horrible at it. he loves to plan stupid, small dates that involve going on rides or even getting takeout and having a make shift picnic in your backyard. lando loves when you show interests in his hobbies as he shows interests in yours too. he’s down to watch any movie you like and participate in your hobbies because what makes you happy, makes him happy. when you show interest and racing and even suggest karting together, lando is is over the moon to share a piece of his interests and specialty with you. when out in public, he isn’t afraid to hold your hand and even give you a small kiss or hug when it’s appropriate. he always makes sure you are comfortable with his small acts of love and wants you to feel nothing but comfort in his presence. once again, lando is definitely another physical touch person as he likes to be as close to you as possible. when he isn’t able to be around you, he messages you sweet words of affirmation and gets the point across that he loves you so much no matter how far away or busy he is. he loves seeing you wear his close, especially anything that represents mclaren as he finds it so cute. lando lets you borrow some of his clothing while he is gone so that a piece of him is always with you.

CARLOS SAINZ … carlos is the kind of boyfriend you have absolutely wrapped around your finger. carlos is extremely loving, and no matter how busy he is, he will always shows his love for you. like the others, carlos loves having you at his races and cheering him on from the crowd. he loves knowing that you are there as it gives him more motivation to push as hard as he can at every race. there’s no doubt that carlos likes to let loose and party, but if he had to choose between that and spending time with you, he would spend time with you instead. after races, not depending on how good or bad they go for the driver, he likes to spend his time relaxing with you. carlos’ love language is the perfect combination between gift giving and physical touch. the driver also peppers you with kisses at the most random to show just how much he appreciates you. he loves to be near you and hold you, but he also spoils you with gifts from other countries he has gone too even if there wasn’t a special occasion while he was away. during the off season, he spends as much time as possible with you. carlos doesn’t care if the two of you are having a lazy day in or a big day out, he treats spending time with you as a special moment every time.

CHARLES LECLERC … charles is very confident in being in a relationship. he knows how to be a good boyfriend as well as the difference between right and wrong. he is very caring, but knows when to give you space and respects when you need it. charles enjoys spending time with you as it allows and appreciates that you two still have a loving relationship when he’s away. if you cannot attend races, he makes sure he can check up on you during the day and gets excited when you get the chance to watch his race form home. he appreciates receiving messages after races of you cheering him on as it goes on. accompanying this, charles main love language is definitely words of affirmation alongside physical touch. he loves to be near you and shows a lot of signs of casual intimacy as well as general intimacy. being away a lot, charles always makes sure to send you sweet messages that get the point across of how much he loves and cherishes being with you. he plans small little date nights that involve you two cuddled up playing a game together or watching a movie. charles prefers to stay inside for most date nights as he likes spending time with just you and only you in that moment.

OSCAR PIASTRI … oscar strikes me as the kind of boyfriend who goes with the flow. if you show interests in seeing a movie or going out to a place to eat, he plans dates revolving around the subject. much like lando, oscar likes whatever makes you happy. when you ask him what he would like to do, oscar is the kind of person to always say he wants to do what you want. you feel bad about it, but he always assures you that he just loves spending time with you. oscar’s love language is definitely words of affirmation and quality time. he constantly assures you how much he loves you and that time with you is like paradise to him, whether you overthink it or not. due to being away so often, oscar loves to do things that you like because he knows how long you have been waiting for that quality time. oscar will sometimes take lead as well and plan dates to show bits and pieces of his interests to you which ultimately strengthens your relationship and bond. after every race, oscar is always eager to message you or see you, knowing you two know how to hype each other up and calm each other down. his eyes light up whenever he sees you and it is always like he has fallen in love with you over and over again.

DANIEL RICCIARDO … daniel is a massive golden retriever boyfriend. he is a very “go-along-to-get-along” partner and is agreeable when planning dates amongst each other. he is very into the idea of planning dates and events that the two of you would mutually enjoy and that creates wonderful memories for the both of you. daniel is very open with your love and isn’t afraid to show affection. he is proud that you are his partner and flaunts you off to his friends, fans, and family by expressing how much he loves you. though you may not be able to see each other as often as you may see other people in your life, he is very optimistic about your relationship and makes sure you feel the same way about it. much like a golden retriever, daniel is very energetic when he is with you. he is always down for an adventure, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to be. your presence relaxes him as well, which is why he adores cuddling. daniel’s love language is the perfect mix between quality time, physical touch, and words of affirmation. he loves to spend time with you rather it’s going to hang out with friends, having a lazy day in, or a big night out between the two of you. he isn’t afraid of pda, but does not overdo it. he shows casual forms of intimacy in public by holding your hand and placing small kisses on your cheek or forehead. daniel always makes sure you know how much you mean to him and he appreciates the words of affirmation in return.

[moonlightspencie]

hey lovely! i saw you were asking for more requests and i love your writing so i am happy to help 🫡😂 can you write a one shot with any of the marauders (you can choose) where the reader works in a coffee shop and he comes in all the time and she thinks it’s because he loves coffee but he really just likes her? idk just thought it would be cute!! thank you friend!

hehehe, well remus won the number 2 spot on my poll, so here he is!

remus lupin x reader

----------------

You smiled to yourself when you saw a familiar tall, lanky, scarred, absolutely endearing man walk into the café. He had a habit of dropping in every day. Sometimes twice a day. He'd come to be one of your absolute favorite regulars.

"Hi, Remus," you grinned brightly at him as he came to the counter.

"Hi," he replied shyly, his cheeks a little pink. "How are you today?"

"Can't complain. We've had a pretty slow day, but I'm not mad about it."

"I suppose it's a good thing I've come in, then. I've got to keep this place up and running," he joked lightly.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Want your regular?"

"Please," he nodded, smiling a bit at the fact she knew his order. "Also whatever you'd like."

"What?"

"I'd like to pay for whatever drink you'd like, too. You told me last time that you only get one free drink per shift," he said with a small shrug.

You blinked, looking at him in a bit of surprise. "You really don't have to do that."

"I'd like to. If you'll let me."

"Really?" you smile again.

"Really. It's the least I can do."

"I'm only doing my job," you let out a breathy chuckle, your own cheeks heating a little. Though you wouldn't admit it, you'd begun to harbor a small crush on the man. "No big deal."

"You go the extra mile. Nobody else has ever bothered to remember my order."

"Well... you're easy to remember."

His cheeks went even pinker as he sighed softly. "You are... unnecessarily kind."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all."

You smile again, writing on the two cups, then give him the total. He pays, leaving much too generous of a tip as always, and goes to sit down. You start on both of your drinks, debating in your head what you should do. Was it wrong to hit on a patron of the café? Maybe. But was he terribly cute and really sweet? Definitely.

You quickly scribbled your name and number on the cup, then called his name.

He walked up with a sweet smile. "Thanks."

"No problem. But... Maybe next time, I can buy you a drink?"

His brows rose. "This is your job. I don't want you to feel like you have to pay for me at your workplace."

"Then maybe I could buy you a drink someplace else?"

He blushed fiercely. "Oh."

"Unless I'm picking up the wrong signals, of course," you shift on your feet. "I've been thinking you just really liked coffee, but now I'm not so sure."

"You're much sweeter than the coffee," he admits with a soft voice.

You bite back a grin. "In that case... my number's on the cup, and I'm off at six. Maybe text me?"

He swallows, his eyes wide as he nods. "That... that sounds great."

"Good. I'll see you around, then?"

"Next time, maybe not just for the coffee," he smiles, nodding again once.

He walks out of the café a minute later, leaving you giddy on more than caffeine for the rest of your shift. The second you clocked out, you checked your phone, seeing a message from an unknown number:

You made my heart race a lot faster than the coffee today. Thanks for asking me out, I don't think I could have worked up the nerve myself haha

This is Remus, by the way.

You laughed softly, typing a quick response.

Now you'll have to tell me your second favorite place to get drinks. Can't wait :)