#really wish the sequel had been better

[swan2swan]

One of the most solid writing elements of Independence Day that has really helped the movie stand the test of time is just how methodical the aliens are in their destruction of Earth.

Despite all of their advanced tech, everything has its limits. They can't just bombard Earth from orbit because their weapons don't work that way--the blast from their mega-cannons spreads across the city because of the City Destroyers' massive size and shields. The dramatic charge time at the end is matched by the charge times in the beginnings (it's a few seconds longer in the climax, but the City Destroyer just spent a lot of energy moving full speed to Area 51 and probably hadn't charged the cannon as effectively as the ones resting above cities for hours had--which is logical!); everything works on a consistent standard.

The aliens also rely on the Earth's satellite connections to function, adding a level of realism to their communication and function--and yes, people make fun of the virus plot, but the writers show their work throughout and address every point step by step.

All of this combines so that, while you can't see the aliens acting at all in the movie, you can work out exactly what they're doing. There's a logical pattern to every action they take, and it doesn't matter if the commander in the final battle is smugly sitting back and swirling a glass of Space Wine as he prepares to exterminate the little humans for his Glorious Leader, or screaming furiously at every officer to get that weapon online before something damages his ship further--the goal is clear. The movie is a huge chess game, both sides are players, but we're only seeing one perspective.

That makes it an odd case where a Sci-Fi film is actually a War Movie, and I love it.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 31: Post Game

…for the sake of the world’s happiness.

[strawbeii]

i wish the people in charge of disney (and more companies probably) would just get an office job or do other business stuff and let the artists who want to freely express themselves & their art shine through. if the executives are only worried about sales & money they should just go work in another business idk, if you're only creating things out of a desire for money then nothing is gonna come out as good as something with real passion. and the artists who do have that passion are often pushed to the side or have their ideas dimmed down as to not take too many "risks"

[babisawyer]

finally got to watch scream 5 since 6 is now up for streaming worst experience of my life.

[daylighteclipsed]

My biggest complaint about Jedi Fallen Order (aside from no fast travel) is the criminal lack of Merrin

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!” 

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him. 

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you. 

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans. 

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.” 

“You’re so boring, Y/n.” 

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.” 

“You’re so gross!” you groaned. 

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with. 

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation. 

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands. 

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.” 

Fuck, he was an idiot. 

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans. 

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.”  _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends. 

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively. 

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code. 

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom. 

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun. 

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.” 

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small. 

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling. 

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off! 

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit. 

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle. 

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy. 

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?” 

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera. 

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?” 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house. 

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?” 

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?” 

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!” 

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize  - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction. 

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!” 

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-” 

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone. 

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely. 

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!” 

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately. 

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.” 

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-” 

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?” 

Huh?

“Huh?” 

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer. 

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-” 

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own. 

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?” 

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?” 

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted. 

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-” 

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!” 

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.” 

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.” 

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself. 

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked). 

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu. 

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne. 

You got to talking about Mingyu Code. 

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda. 

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.” 

“Mhm.” 

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.” 

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant. 

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.” 

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.” 

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain. 

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression. 

“I know you are.” 

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him. 

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously. 

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t). 

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away. 

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.” 

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too. 

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.” 

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips. 

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth. 

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses. 

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt. 

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?” 

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy. 

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you. 

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin. 

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?” 

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy. 

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it. 

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.” 

And then he dived in. 

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it. 

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.” 

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum. 

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent. 

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ‘stop’ didn’t come. 

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out. 

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.” 

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers. 

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste. 

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.” 

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped. 

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?” 

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet. 

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good. 

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you. 

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound. 

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach. 

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.” 

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.” 

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-” 

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.” 

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world. 

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus’ say you’re mine, please, Y/n.” 

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.” 

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?” 

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body. 

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.” 

[riddlerosehearts]

thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

[formula-nyoom]

Be Proud of Yourself | GR63

Pairing: Platonic!George Russell x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: @cinnvmonrolls @scenesofobx and @annabellelee wanted a sequel to I'm Proud of You where reader finally outqualifies George and wins a race.

A/N: Works picking back up for me so fics may take some time for them to come out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Good job (Y/N)! We’ve made it to Q3.”

 “Whew! Didn’t think I’d make it with that last lap. Glad to hear I did.” You said to your race engineer as you pulled into the pitlane. Engineers surrounded your car as they pulled it into the garage and placed a screen in front of you to go over data. To your right, you saw them do the same with George’s car. The two of you made eye contact and you gave George a thumbs up. He put his own thumb up, signaling to you that he also made it through to Q3. You only nodded your head.

While you were happy for the team that both Mercedes made it into Q3, a familiar, small pit started to form in your stomach. While most drivers that end up in Q3 shoot for pole, you didn’t care what position you ended up in, only as long as it was in front of George. It wasn’t a malicious goal. You just wanted to outqualify your teammate once and hopefully that would lead to people no longer ragging on you for all the times you placed behind George. But being honest with yourself, you knew they wouldn’t really stop. It would probably just make you feel better and hopefully give you a confidence boost going into the race on Sunday. 

The greenlight was given for Q3 to start and you and George were sent out for qualifying. Despite getting impeded on one of your qualifying laps, by the end of the session you felt like you had good pace to make the top 5. Nowhere near pole, but you felt you had good pace as you crossed the finish line at the end of qualifying.

“Alright, tell me where I am.” You said to your race engineer as you did your cool down lap before pulling into parc ferme.

 “You are P3.” Your race engineer told you. P3. That’s the highest you’ve ever qualified this season.

“Wow! I’m proud of that. And George is P2?”

 “No. George is P6.” Your race engineer said. You paused, your brain not really processing what was just said to you.

“What?”

 “You are P3. George is P6.”

“I outqualifed George?” The shock in your voice was evident. Realistically you should have tried to hide it, but you didn’t care. You had finally out-qualified your teammate

 “That you did. Good job (Y/N).”

For the first time, instead of parking your car in the regular parc ferme lane, you rolled your car till it stopped in front of the P3 placard, right next to Max’s car that was parked in the P1 spot. You took your time to get out of the car before running over to greet your team at the barriers. They gave you high fives and pats to the shoulder. While it wasn’t pole, P3 was still something to celebrate. 

 “Glad to see you up here, rookie!” Max said, giving your shoulder a pat. 

“Didn’t expect to be up here. It’s going to be difficult tomorrow for me to try and overtake you.” You told him. Max laughed.

 “Well I definitely won’t make it easy.” He said.

After post qualifying interviews, George was there to meet you as the two of you headed back to the Mercedes garage for debrief.

“Good job mate! Second row!” George said as he patted your shoulder “Wish I could have made it a Mercedes lock out.”

 “I expected you to end up on the front row. What happened?”

“My tires locked up on the second to last turn. Cost me what could have been pole.” George said. 

The adrenaline from qualifying had started to wear off and realization set in on where you placed. P3. 2 spots away from pole. 2 spots away from 1st place.

Your smile dropped and you turned to George.

“What am I supposed to do tomorrow George?” You asked him. “The team is going to expect me to try and win the race. I don’t know if I can do that.”

 “What makes you think that?” George asked.

“Because that’s what everyone else thinks.” You said as doubt started to creep in. You could practically see the media comments that would be online by the end of the night: predictions that George will overtake you by the end of the first lap, or you’ll bin it in the first turn, ruining Mercedes chances of a race win. 

 “Not everyone thinks that. The team doesn’t think that and neither do I.” George said, trying to make you feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Really? Because I haven’t been able to out pace you at all this whole season! I’ve always qualified and placed behind you at every race, including the sprints. The only reason I was able to outqualify you today was because of an issue with your car. If your tires didn’t lock up, you would have outqualified me again and continue to prove to everyone that Mercedes made a mistake with signing me!” You exclaimed. While you didn’t seem to be crying from your exclamation, your face had turned red and you were breathing heavily. George could tell that this was something you had been keeping to yourself for a long time.

 “Hey, look at me.” George lightly cupped your face so that you would make eye contact with him. 

 “Mercedes did not make a mistake in signing you. You deserve to be here. Who cares if you’ve finished behind me? You’ve consistently scored points for Mercedes for a majority of the season and did so as a rookie. You’ve done better than most rookies when they first join Formula 1. Better than I did my rookie season.” George told you.

 “But the media-”

“Screw the media. They say shit like that all the time just to stir up drama. They only go off of what they’re seeing. If they knew how much you’ve been matching me in pace during our sim runs and during practice sessions, they wouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” George told you. He pulled you into a side hug and started to walk both of you to the Mercedes garage.

“Look, we both know that teammates are supposed to be each other’s biggest rivals, and I completely understand your want to outqualify and out place me at every race. But I don’t want that to cause you to doubt yourself and I’d hate to be the reason that causes you so much distress.” He said. You sighed.

 “It’s not you. It’s the expectations.”

“Put the expectations aside for now. Trust me, it won’t do you any good. You’ll beat me at some point, through your own merit and pace. I know you will.” George said. 

And that made you feel a bit better. 

~~~

The morning of the race, you were wrought with nerves. After the team debrief last night, it was emphasized that you had a good chance of winning the race if everything went well. The expectations were hard to shake. Even with how much you tried to push them to the side like George had advised.

George and you arrived at the track at the same time. While walking to Mercedes’ hospitality, George was giving you all the best advice he could think of for your starting position. 

“Max and Lando will be too focused on trying to get ahead of each other in the first turn. That will open the outside up for you to try and swoop in and take the lead. That’s how I was able to do it when I started P3 with them in P1 and P2.”

 “But what if one of them tries to go to the outside to overtake the other?” You asked.

“Then you wait and bide your time. If you can’t overtake them on the first lap, you’ll have a chance of overtaking them later. But be careful if you have to go 1-to-1 against Lando. We don’t want a repeat of Austria.” “Well maybe a repeat of Austria is what we need for me to get my first win.”

The Drivers Parade was always the calm before the storm. You always enjoyed staring out into the crowd and waving to fans. Usually you’d stand next to Logan or George during the parade and you and Logan would always make a game out of who could spot the most of your guys' drivers numbers in the crowd. But today your game was interrupted by you having to be one of the drivers interviewed during the parade.

“So (Y/N), you’re starting in P3 today. Do you think you have a chance at a win today?” The interviewer asked. 

 “I really hope so. Me and the team have been going over all the possible strategies that could guarantee me a win but there’s also the matter of getting up to P1. George and I joked earlier that a repeat of Austria would be ideal but I think I have a good chance at fighting for a win today.” You said. The interviewer smiled.

 “Now I’m sure you’re aware of this, but if you win today, you’ll be the first woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix. How do you feel about that?”

 Oh. The expectations just became bigger.

Despite the nerves, you were able to muster a smile to answer the question.

“It would be a historic thing and something that I’ve been striving to do throughout this whole season. I know it won’t be an easy thing to achieve but if I can pull it off, it would make this race even better.”

You were thankful that your Mercedes PR training allowed you to answer the question in good faith. Because until then, you had been so focused on the possibility of a win that you hadn’t realized until now what that win could mean. And now you felt even more pressure.

You weren’t even starting on pole and yet you were nervous beyond belief. Sure it was because of a multitude of reasons: You were starting in front of George for the first time, you were in a position to give Mercedes a win, and if you did win, you’d be making history. 

It would be stupid for anyone to tell you that there was “no pressure”, to you there was so much pressure. And it would be even worse if you made a mistake that would cost you and Mercedes the race. The media would have a field day. 

George could sense that you were spiraling again as he watched you struggle to put your gloves on. He walked over and held out his hand for you to hand them to him, which you did and you let George help you with your gloves.

“You’re going to do great.” George told you once your gloves were on. 

 You could only give him a nod. 

You pulled your car into the P3 spot behind Max’s RedBull and nervously waited for the lights to go out. Taking your breath, you tried to center yourself.

 ‘You’re going to do great. Put the expectations aside for now. You. Can. Win. This.’

It was better for you to focus on the now. Worrying about the outcome would affect your race. 

*Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink*

Foot to the floor, you slammed on the throttle and immediately went for the outside line. But going to the outside didn’t work like George had said it would. Max and Lando were indeed trying to get past each other, like George had said, but Max needed to pull away from Lando because they were getting too close to each other, which caused you to get pushed off the track. Not enough to cause damage, but you rejoined the track in P8.

 “Max pushed me off the track!” You exclaimed to your race engineer, clearly not happy about losing your P3 position. Oh yea. And you were 2 spots behind George now.

 “It’s been noted. Keep a cool head. It’s only the first lap, we can still win this race.” Your race engineer said. You let out a frustrated huff and tried to focus on getting back into the top 3. 

Building up speed you were able to overtake and get into P7, but that put you right behind George. In the team briefing before the race, it was said that you were the priority with your P3 placement, but that was before the start of the race. Now you were worried that since George was ahead of you, he would be the priority.

“Are me and George allowed to fight?” You asked your engineer, hoping they would say yes. 

 “You and George seem to be matching pace so you are allowed to fight as long as you keep it clean.”

“Got it.” You said, a smile creeping on your face. 

You quickly increased your speed, getting into George’s DRS zone. You were determined to get past your teammate. You weren’t going to end this race behind George again.

0.500s, 0.400s, 0.300s. You were gaining on George, just waiting for the right moment for an overtake. But he wasn’t making it easy for you. No, George was defending, making you work for this overtake, making you prove that you can get past him. 

 “The two Mercedes are very close to one another! They have been given permission to fight! (L/N) has consistently been outplaced by Russel throughout this season, but she seems determined to get by her teammate! Down the straight they go, (L/N) has DRS! She dives to the inside and GETS PAST RUSSEL IN TURN 8! (Y/N) (L/N) TAKES 6TH PLACE FROM HER TEAMMATE!”

You didn’t hesitate from pulling away from George as soon as you got past him. You let out a little exclamation of celebration to yourself for getting past but there were still more overtakes to do. Through pitstops of other drivers, you were able to move up to P4 and eventually found yourself within DRS range of Lando, who had dropped to P3. You were gaining momentum and just as you were preparing to go into Sector 1 to attempt the overtake, Lando was called into the pitlane, moving you up to P2. 

“Gap to Verstappen?” You asked as you tried to keep your momentum.

 “Verstappen is 5 seconds ahead. There are 20 laps left so let’s try to catch up to him.” Your engineer said to you. 

You seemed to be one with the car and speed was something you found quickly as you caught up to Max with just 10 laps to go. Now was the hard part: overtaking him. 

Max was a very defensive driver. Everytime you tried to make an attempt at overtaking, Max would try to halt your attempt. You were trying to play it safe for three laps but the end of the race was getting closer and you needed to overtake now in order to win the race. 

The two of you were going into turn 6 side by side. Like repeating the start, you had chosen the outside line. But you weren’t going to let him push you off the track, as you pulled ahead and managed to overtake him. But the two of you had just turned into the strait of sector 2, with Max still close enough to have DRS. He went for the outside line, but you knew he was trying to fake you out. You stayed on the inside and ahead enough so that Max couldn’t overtake you going into turn 9. 

 “Start pulling away. 6 laps to go.” Your engineer said to you. 

“I know! I’m trying! This guy doesn’t want to let go of first place!” Your frustration from the beginning of the race had come back. Max was still riding your rear wing and you just wanted him to stop. You were so close to a race win you just needed to hold off Max for 6 more laps. 

6 laps became 5. Then 4. By the time it became lap 3 you had started to be able to pull away and by the 2nd to last lap, Max had fallen out of your DRS zone.

 ‘Holy shit, I could win this’ You thought. By the time you saw the white flag waving, it was starting to become real.

 “Last lap, last lap. You can bring it home.” Your race engineer said and this time you believed him. 

You were going to win this race.

“Many had doubted Mercedes when they announced they had signed an F2 rookie to be the one to replace Sir Lewis Hamilton. And while she hadn’t been able to beat her teammate throughout this season, (Y/N) (L/N) has proven that those doubts should be put to rest. She outqualifed her teammate for the first time yesterday! Today she not only outplaces him, but she also makes history as the first woman to win a Formula One race! (Y/N) (L/N) wins the Monza Grand Prix!”

As the checkered flag rose, you saw people from the Mercedes team climb the fence and wave their fists in celebration as you drove past them and crossed the finish line. 

 “That’s the checkered flag! P1 (Y/N)! You did it!”

“YEEEEESSSS! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO HARD! WOOOOO!” A smile spread across your face as you waved to the crowd while on your cool down lap. Part of you couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations (Y/N). I know expectations for you were high at the start and I’m happy that you were able to deliver on them. You’re making everyone at Mercedes proud.” Toto’s voice now came over your radio and the praise made you smile even more.

 “Thank you Toto. I know a lot of people doubted your decision about signing me. Hopefully I’ve proven them wrong.”

 “You did kid. You did.”

Pulling into parc ferme, you didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and climb up onto the nose. You raised your fists in the air in celebration before swinging one up towards the sky as people cheered. You let yourself just stare out at the cheering ground and soaked up all the excitement before leaping off the nose of your car.

Your feet stay on the ground for a second before you’re getting scooped up into someone’s arms. They’re hugging you tight while spinning you around. You panic for a second at the unknown person holding you, but then you see the familiar blue helmet of George and relax, hugging him back.

 “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You deserve this so much.” George says. He sounds like he’s crying. As he sets you down, you can see his visor is up and there are visible tears on his face.

 “I’m supposed to be the one crying George.” You said, your voice wavering as tears started to well up in your eyes. 

“We can both be crying because the fact is that you have proved everyone wrong. (Y/N) (L/N), you have just won your first race!” George exclaims as he pulls you in for another hug and you can’t help but start crying tears of joy.

Together the two of you walked over to the Mercedes team at the barrier, who welcomed you with open arms and helmet pats. You hugged your race engineer as soon as you saw them, thanking them for helping throughout the race. 

You were given many congratulations by both the team and those you walked past as you made your way to the cool down room. Your fellow drivers gave you hugs or pats on the shoulder as you passed, all of them very happy at your first win.

"I told you you would be up there one day!" Oscar said as you walked past him. Both him and Logan gave you a hug while congratulating you and your smile just kept getting bigger.

“You did not make it easy.” Was the first thing you said to Max when you entered the cool down room. Max let out a laugh as he sat in the P2 chair while you put down your helmet and swapped it for the P1 hat.

 “I told you I wouldn’t.” Max said. You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking a seat next to him. Lewis walked in shortly after, taking his seat in the P3 chair. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a side hug.

“Congrats. You’re picking up where I left off, kid.” He said.

 “I’m coming for your spot as Mercedes' golden child.” You told him. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

Stepping on to the top step of the podium felt like a surreal moment. Graciously accepting the first place trophy, the cheers almost sounded deafening as you hoisted it high above you and when your national anthem came, you smiled and mouthed the words with a smile on your face. And when the time finally came to pop the champagne bottle, you didn’t hesitate in spraying the two world champions while letting yourself get drenched as well. Who knows when you’ll be back up here, but you were here today. As you let yourself get sprayed with champagne, you soaked up the moment, feeling both the adrenaline and pure happiness as you met the eyes of smiling faces from your team down below, including George. As you stood on the top step, you could say with certainty that you were proud of yourself.

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (1) II a.russo x reader

series playlist

this is part one to a lil multi part fic i've been working on, sequels and prequels to come

childhood sweethearts II a.russo x reader

"and you promise you'll not burn yourself out again right darling?" you sighed at the obvious concern present in your mums voice on the other end of the phone line. "yes mother i've learnt and i've grown and i'm doing all the self care things!" you cheered sarcastically, switching to hands free as you moved to stir your dinner.

"ha ha ha. i think you forget that i still know where you live and i have no issues just popping in every now and then to check on-" the older woman began to threaten as your eyes widenened.

"okay okay there's no need for that mum! i'm doing well, i promise." you responded a lot more sincerely as the woman on the other end simply hummed. "this school and my workload is a lot less intense, really! my colleagues are very friendly, my boss is approachable and i love my class. better?" you sighed as you switched off your stove and began to dish yourself up a bowl.

"and it's brought you back closer to home, my favourite part!" your mum cheered as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"yes it has however i maintain that i have boundaries mum. you, lily and harry are only welcome to visit with an invitation." you warned, half serious and half joking as you grabbed your phone and moved to the living room, sinking down into the sofa.

"yes you made that very clear, feeling very loved darling." "you know i love you ever so dearly mum but i also love my own space."

"oh god i almost forgot. you'll never guess who i ran into the other day!" your mum suddenly gasped making you chuckle, if you'd even tried guessing you could have been stuck on the phone with her for hours, your mothers social circle seemingly never ending.

it used to be a point of contention for you in your youth, hating the way you were seemingly forever pulled away to dinners or parties or barbeques, having to beg your parents to leave once it grew late in the night and your social battery had long hit its max.

as your siblings grew older they were always excused from going to these elaborate social events and you'd beg to be given that same privilege but as the youngest that was one thing you coudn't talk your way out of.

though once your dad passed you watched that break her down to nothing, seemingly just a shell of the woman she once was when he was alive and all was well.

but with time you grew to watch your mother pick herself back up slowly and start to rebuild her own support net. recconecting with her inner circle after isolating herself from the outside world for so long, it warmed your heart and was something you would forever encourage for her.

knowing that the older woman would always thrive and be at her best as a social butterfly and the hostess with the mostess, it had helped her to heal.

"if i guessed we could be here for hours and i have an island full of gorgeous single airheads and a bowl of pasta calling my name, so who did you run into?" you chuckled, shoveling in a mouthful of food as you awaited her answer.

"carol russo!" you choked at her words, spitting out the pasta you'd half chewed and breaking out into a coughing fit, scrambling for the glass of water on the coffee table.

"oh honestly i wish you'd learn to chew before you swallow, the food isn't going to disappear!" your mum scolded you as you finally caught your breath again.

"oh i'm grand mum, thank you for your concern!"

"anyway. well i've not seen her for years as you'd know and then there i was just browsing the strawberries, i needed some for a new crumble recipe i'm trying, and there she was, just grabbing a bunch of carrots!" you had to withhhold the urge to laugh at the way your mother told stories and just how animated she'd become, so fixated on the small details as she basically told you their entire conversation and coincidentally revealed her entire shopping list as she went.

"so we're all going out for a meal on thursday to catch up properly." you hummed, only half listening at this point. "that sounds nice." you mumbled, flicking through the tv.

"so you'll be there then? i said half past six since i know you're normally home from work around five." now that had you tuning back in. "wait, you what?" you directed your full attention back to the conversation.

"dinner with the russo's. half past six at paradiso, your brother and sister already said yes." your mum repeated as your stomach dropped and you fell silent. "darling did you hear me?"

"yeah i did. but look mum i have lesson planning to do and that's a school night and-" "oh y/n please! carol made such a point to ask how you've been and how much she'd love to see you. i know you and lessi drifted apart but you're both adults now darling i'm sure you can find some common ground, and the two of you used to be inseparable."

and there it was.

you could have just maybe deluded yourself into thinking that there was a slight chance the youngest russo wouldn't be present, perhaps you'd get lucky and she would be too busy off being a european football superstar.

but now you knew she'd be there the pit of worry and dread forming in your stomach only widened, quickly going from a small hole to a gaping chasm as the nerves already settled in at the thought of speaking with her after so many years apart.

"actually no you know what darling i don't care if you're an adult now, you're going. no arguments!" your mum decided, hastily excusing herself and stating she couldn't wait to see you, ending the call before you could utter another word.

~

"oh god, get it together! they're just regular people and its just one dinner." you mumbled to yourself with a shake of your head as you fixed your hair in your rear view mirror for the fifth time, sinking into your seat with a long exhale.

you jumped and let out a yell of shock as someones knuckles rapped against your window, an all too familiar toothy grin shining down at you as you grabbed your bag and popped open your door.

"shortstack!" giorgio cheered, surprising you as he scooped you up into a bearhug. "well, maybe not so much anymore." he placed you back down as he looked you up and down with a beaming smile.

"hi gio." you laughed fondly, hugging him again as he squeezed you, having been just like another brother to you as you'd grown up, it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"still shorter than me though, and definitely shorter than lessi." the boy teased as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you as the realization once again sank in you'd be seeing her again after all these years.

"so its been years, how have you been?" the italian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you briefly caught him up on what you were doing now as he did the same, the two of you wandering into the familiar restaurant.

"hasn't changed eh?" he chuckled as the both of you looked around, fondly recalling memories of all the dinners your combined families would have here throughout your childhood, the same owners still preserving its legacy and charm years and years later.

"hey, i was really sorry to learn about your dad. he was a good man, one of the best." the boy gently grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side a little, genuine sorrow in his eyes at the words as your lips pressed together and you nodded.

pity, you hated pity.

"thanks gio." you squeezed his shoulder with a small smile as the two of you resumed your chatter and you spotted the rest of your families already gathered together at a large table up the back, the same table you'd always sat at.

it seemed the two of you were the last to arrive as cheers erupted and you both made your rounds saying hello, without even needing to look to your right you could feel a certain blondes eyes burning holes in the side of your head, but you weren't quite ready to accept that just yet.

"sweetheart look at you! absolutely beautiful." carol beamed, pulling you into a very tight hug after you'd finished once again being lifted into the air both by mario and luca, seemingly an italian tradition as thats how it had always been for you with the men of the russo household.

"its so lovely to see you again carol, mum was delighted to have bumped into you, i know she's missed you since it all happened." you admitted softly, the older woman nodding in understanding and rubbing your back comfortingly.

though the gesture was not anything new it did send your heart racing, as you knew another russo who was fond of that exact same thing and at the seemingly simply action a million memories came crashing down onto you and your knees buckled slightly.

doing your best to shake them off you greeted your own siblings and mum, and then without anyone else to use as a buffer you found yourself having to take a seat, and of course the only seat free would be next to her.

your stomach dropped as finally you had no choice but to look at her, the girl thankfully caught up in conversation with your sister sitting across from her you found her eyes no longer gazed back at you.

it presented you with a small fleeting moment to actually take her in.

long gone was the grubby ten year old brunette who would tackle you to the ground and sit on you to paint your face with mud after she'd spent the afternoon kicking footballs at your head, now sat before you was a woman.

you knew she'd forgone her natural hair colour for the bottle blonde, in fact you'd been the very first person she told the moment she even started to consider it. you'd gone with her to the salon for her appointment, showering her with praise at her new cut and colour which she'd clearly stuck with over the years.

gone was the baby fat which once rounded out her face, her features though still soft had become more defined over time, and you couldn't help but allow your eyes the luxury of roaming her incredibly toned arms which sat on full display, likely attributed to the hours she dedicated to training every day.

she had always been strong physically, easily able to overpower you during countless wrestling matches in your early youth, or pinning you down on her bed to steal the breath from your very lungs with a searing kiss in your teenage years, forever teasing you to no end at all the ways she bettered you in strength.

sat with one leg crossed over the other you marvelled at the tight fitting dress which adorned the curvature of her body, another thing that grubby ten year old alessia would have scoffed at, forever foregoing fancy dress ups and heels for football boots and a tattered hand me down manchester united jersey.

of course over the years you'd grown up together there was changes within you both, the biggest of everything being the fact you realized you loved one another in a way best friends shouldn't, thinking about one another the way the rest of your friends spoke about liking boys.

it was how the two of you had wound up being one anothers first everything, though that was a secret reserved only for the two of you to share, and one that would take much more time than a quick dinner for you to really unpack.

so swallowing down the hard lump in your throat at the cascading emotions washing over you, you screamed at your legs to move and cleared the distance between you and her, your sisters eyes flickering toward you alerting alessia the chair beside her would no longer be vacant.

sneaking a glance up toward you she had to stop herself from gasping. much like your own observations, to alessia gone was the shy smiley ten year old she'd chased around her backyard every afternoon and sat giggling for hours with tucked away in pillow forts on rainy days, replaced instead with a well spoken and quite frankly drop dead gorgeous woman looking to her expectantly.

alessia quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the obnoxious scrape of her chair against the hard wood floor, the two of you sizing one another up clearly unsure how to proceed.

"hi." you started softly, alessia swooning at the dimples which hadn't left you over the years, your nose still scrunching slightly as it always had when you smiled.

"hey." the striker managed to force out with her own nervous smile, the two of you hesitating for a moment, clearly both ticking over if a hug was the next most appropriate step.

though right as alessia began to move closer, arms ready to envelop your shorter form, it seemed the decision had been made for both of you as servers arrived.

handing out menus and starting to take drink orders meant the two of you dropped down into your seats, refusing to look one another in the eye as you spoke to everyone and anyone but each other.

alessia ordering a glass of white wine with a grateful smile her ears perked up and a slight frown appeared on her face as you murmured to the man you were content to stick with water.

"let me guess, no drinking on a school night?" your older sister lily had mocked with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes at her over the lip of your glass.

"oh yes your mum was telling me you're teaching now! and you've just gotten back from working abroad?" carol tuned in at that point, seated beside your sister as you nodded.

"yeah i was in australia for two years teaching, i actually only got back a few weeks ago and started a position here in a local school." you confirmed with a smile, alessia glancing toward you with a look of surprise at the new information.

“oh that’s just wonderful, I can see you’d be the most amazing teacher. what age?” carol complimented sincerely as you sent her a grateful smile, you’d definitely found the right work for you and you adored your job so you always appreciated when it was picked up on by others.

“I was teaching grade five in australia but my class here now are only second years which is a bit of a change.” you answered with a chuckle, it had definitely been an adjustment but you honestly preferred it to how things had been overseas.

"got over your fear of planes then if you made it in one piece to australia?" luca chimed in with a wink as you waved him off, having always had a paraylsing fear of aircraft it had taken a lot for you to board that final plane away from everything you knew.

but with a new adventure awaiting and having done about as much preparation as one girl could do, once you were in the air it relieved you to know it actually wasn't all that bad.

"lessi just got back from australia, well we all did actually what a place it is. and what a shame we didn't know you were living there at the time!" mario added with a regretful smile before returning to his conversation with your brother.

"yes i was sorry to see how that ended for you lessi, you played brilliantly though! lil and i watched most of the games, footy for breakfast." your mum beamed, alessia unable to not share a grin with the woman, her happiness always having been infectious just as yours was, it wasn't hard to see where you got it from.

"y/n was at the semi finals too, in person." your brother harry chimed in as your face paled, having hoped this wouldn't come up as you felt ocean blue eyes pierce into the side of your head. "you were?" alessia's voice was soft and laced with surprise, and you were sure you were the only one who had heard her as you nodded.

"our school was given a handful of tickets by one of the parents who sits on the FA board, so i went with a few other teachers. the only english woman among a huddle of australians i wasn't the most popular on the train ride home or at work that next day!" you joked, cheeks flushed slightly red at all the eyes on you, grateful once the conversation seemed to shift to another topic.

but alessia wasn't quite finished with it yet.

"i wish i'd known you were there." the blonde admitted quietly, sparing a glance toward you as you stiffened. "you scored the winner, i didn't miss that." you replied softly, messing about with your fingers and staring down at the table as alessia's wine arrived.

she downed it in one go, tapping the server and murmuring for another as he nodded and took her glass away, the blondes head buzzing with the much needed liquid confidence.

"did your friends need to explain the rules to you?" alessia smiled, her tone now much lighter as you shared a look, own lips curling upwards at what she was insinuating.

"mostly just how offside works and what the hell VAR was." you joked, seemingly relaxing a little more in your chair as alessia did the same. "i see your ever growing passion for football hasn't changed then." the older girl teased sarcastically, ring clad fingers drumming against the table.

despite it being her one true love you couldn't have cared less about the sport, the only reason you feigned any interest was not to upset her or have her feel unsupported, and so you allowed her to teach you the rules of the sport so you would appreciate every game you sat at to watch her play, and you hardly ever missed a single one.

though that also never ever stopped her from forcing you to stand between the posts as she and her brothers fired shot after shot at you.

you’d often run off after a few minutes of being hammered and your best friend would chase you down, dragging you back to the goal and demanding you try to stop at least one of her shots and she would switch with you and let you kick at her instead.

it was safe to say you never did manage to get a turn at playing striker.

"could say the same for you, champion of europe now isn't it? bit of a step up from winner of the backyard round robins one on one with your brothers." your shoulder nudged into hers slightly, setting alessias entire body on fire just from the marginal contact, something she'd not felt in years.

"seems we have a lot to catch up on then." alessia smiled, your stomach erupting into butterflies at the slight rasp of her voice, scolding yourself for such feelings as you settled again.

"well six years is quite a long time."

~

though alessia was hyper aware of all of the physical changes within you, it warmed her to see there were still some things which stuck around all the same over the time you'd spent apart.

"some things don't change do they." the blonde murmured with an amused smile seeing you pick out every single tomato from your side salad, subtly moving them to an awaiting napkin as you blushed having been caught out.

growing up you’d always do the same, normally not much of a picky eater but what you didn’t like you didn’t like. thankfully for you though the blonde beside you ate like a hoover growing up with how much physical energy she exerted daily, especially in her early teen years. and would always take whatever you didn’t want, making sure her mum never noticed as you were determined not to have her think you didn’t like anything she prepared for you.

"here." alessia chuckled, reaching out to grab the small handful of tomato’s you'd collected and depositing them on her own plate, in turn dropping a few of her roast potatos onto your own in a silent exchange, shutting down your protests with a firm look.

"thanks." you smiled gratefully, conversation turning toward alessia now as everyone picked at their food. "so arsenal then less? big shift from you as a die hard united fan." your brother joked though knowing the girl as you did you didn't miss the way a small frown of discomfort flickered across her face.

but as soon as it was there it had disappeared again and she was chattering away about how happy she was with her new club, and admittedly you tuned out a little bit as your mind wandered to your lesson planning for tomorrow.

"hm?" you hummed as you heard your name, shooting back down to earth and rejoining the conversation. "head in the clouds still sweetheart!" carol teased as you laughed nervously, apologizing for your lack of focus and asking your mum to repeat herself.

"we were just saying that lessi's new place is quite close to yours." the older woman smiled with a look in her eye you didn’t like, sipping at her wine as you forced a smile. "oh is it? thats nice." you nodded, looking anywhere than at alessia who you knew was waiting for you to say something more.

though when you didn't the conversation turned once again and you exhaled slightly, however of course the conversation had shifted to what you and alessia were like as children, your mums swapping story after story which frankly sent your head into a spin.

you abruptly stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you started to feel a little overwhelmed, alessia's eyes following yours with a concerned frown. "go make sure she's okay lessi." her mum ordered, shooting down her protests with a stern look and shooing her away as the blonde sighed and got to her feet, following after you.

she hesitated on the handle for the bathroom, she was almost certain she'd had a hand in why you left the table in the first place so would her coming to check in on you even really help anything?

she mulled it over for a moment, hand still on the handle before she shook her head, deciding against it and taking a step away. though no sooner had she made up her mind was it changed for her as the door opened and you'd come striding out, smacking into the blonde whose hands grabbed at you.

though with her notoriously clumsy nature she found her footing slipped and she was sent tumbling to the floor, accidentally taking you down with her as your bum smacked against the concrete with a wince.

"fuck, i'm so sorry." alessia blurted out as her face burnt red in embarrassment, hurrying to her feet and offering you a hand up. "it's fine." you smiled politely, the blonde frowning at just how quickly you dropped her hand once you were back on your feet, attempting to step around her to return to the table.

"wait." her strong hands landed on your hips, spinning you around as your eyes widened and alessia realized her mistake, hastily snatching away her hands and stepping back, mumbling an apology.

"you said to wait?" you reminded, eyebrow raised clearly giving her the opportunity to say whatever she had intended. "oh. can we get a coffee sometime? to catch up." alessia forced out, grateful for the few glasses of wine in her system that allowed her to swallow the nerves which threatened to drown her.

"alessia-" you started and the striker could tell right away from your tone and furrowed eyebrows that you were angling for a no. she had to swallow her wounded pride at the realisation you were also the only one at the entire table who'd not called her a single nickname all night, and if she was honest you were really the only one who she wanted to.

"please." the blonde almost begged, her hand reaching out for yours again but pausing midway as you ever so slightly retreated, fingers falling dejectedly back to her side as you sighed.

"alessia i really don't know if-"

"we were best friends for a lot longer than anything else went on. i want to hear about what you've been up to, properly. not just a few awkward sentences at a dinner you clearly don't even want to be at."

you hated her for how well she knew you and could clearly still read you like a book, despite the length of time it had been since she'd even seen picked up and glanced at the cover.

"i've missed you."

and there it was, the three word confession seemingly innocent however it was enough to drive a metal spike right through your insides, and had you wishing you could curl into a ball and be swallowed up by the floor right about now.

"please? it would just be two old friends getting a coffee, catching each other up about the last six years of their lives. completely normal!" alessia tried again this time with a joking smile, desperately trying to ease the fast mounting tension arising between the two of you.

you had to respect her efforts, the taller girl rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously, hands rubbing at the material of her dress desperate to try and wipe them dry, her skin soft and clammy at the sight of you in front of her again after so long.

"okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part two

[markrosewater]

On your note about disliking when people refer to a design as being "lazy". I think there's different connotations to the word and being lazy isn't inherently a bad thing (if anything, to your generation it was considered a grave sin while it really isn't a bad thing to be specially given how overworked most people are).

I think a better word for what gets called "lazy design" would be "raw design". The straight to print ideas that don't have an extra layer of flavor or an attempt to conceal the cheekiness. It comes off, to some people, as unpolished when you have the flying cow creature be called Holy Cow for instance, instead of letting the players figure out that was the intent name. Champion of the Perished or Nulldrifter present clever wordplay where Meathook Massacre II relies on a meta-level reference to sequels that would usually only happen on acorn. Original eldraine had some twists on classical fairytales but then Wilds had some 1:1 on ideas that had already been there and that felt bad to some.

What I'm trying to say is that people calling those kind of designs as "lazy designs" probably means "I'd have liked it better if there was a bit more to it", not "designers are lazy and didn't spend time thinking about it".

"Lazy" by definition means "unwilling to work or use energy", so the implication is the designer didn't work or spend energy on it as much as they should. I wish the design was more layered. I wish the design was more subtle. I wish the design had more facets to it. There are plenty of ways to ask that a design has more structure to it than calling it "lazy". It truly is an insult to the design team.

As a general rule, when the words you use upset people (and that's not your intent), find better words.

[stayinlimbo]

Returned Call

wc: 765, genre: exes to lovers(?), warnings: cursing in beginning, slightly unedited

note: although i feel this could be read as a stand-alone, here is the sequel to Missed Call you guys were asking for. i hope you enjoy ♡

Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system: You know. Lee Minho. Not available. Voicemail. Speak. 

Fuck you, Lee Minho. No, seriously, fuck you. 

Tell me why I was contacted by not one but three of your dancing buddies within the past twenty-four hours about how you’ve been moping around and trudging through your routines for the past week. 

They were all essentially the same. You haven’t been the same since we broke up, is there any way we could reconnect, give you one more chance, blah blah blah. 

You must be doing really bad if one of them was Hyunjin, of all people. 

Two months too late, don’t you think?

As if any of this was my fault.

…

I was getting better before you called, you know?

I finally fixed my sleep schedule. I won’t lie, it took longer than I’d like to admit to break the habit of staying up late for you. At least I was already used to sleeping alone. 

I reconnected with some old friends since I couldn’t talk to Jisung as much without being reminded of you. They can still read me like a book, even after all these years.

I even went on a date. 

Granted, it was with myself, but I like to think it still counts.  

…

You know what I realized on my “date?” And while out with my friends? And on the sleepless nights I spent staring up at my childhood bedroom’s ceiling?

I had forgotten what it felt like to be seen. To be appreciated. To be loved. 

It seems like you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re right. I deserved better. I deserve better. I may have ended our relationship, but I wasn’t the one who left first.

I remember our last kiss, paired with another one of your lies I foolishly kept believing in until I finished the movie night you promised you’d be home in time for. And I remember waking up on the couch with a sore neck to see your fatigued silhouette entering the front door, barely sparing me a glance as you dragged yourself towards the bedroom. 

You didn’t even look sorry. 

How could you, I guess, if you left everything back at the studio?

…

I used to admire your passion, Minho. I hate that I still do. You pour everything you have, everything you can possibly give, into what you love. So why couldn’t you do the same for us? For me?

You say you love me, but why does it feel like I lost something I'm not sure I ever had? 

…

Where did we go wrong? What did I do wrong? I gave everything to you. I gave you my heart, my body, my entire being. I gave you everything until there was nothing left to give.

I never asked for anything outlandish. I think it’s reasonable to want to talk with your partner, to share your lives with one another. I think it’s reasonable to ask about when you’ll be home for our anniversary without being yelled at in front of your friends. 

You want me to be proud of you? You want me to be happy about one of the very things that ripped us apart?

Yes, you’re selfish, but I’m no better. 

…

Maybe this is my fault. After all, no one should feel obligated to love someone. I just never thought it’d apply to us. 

…I wish I could hate you. I really do. 

But all I see is your stupid face smiling at me when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh ringing in my ears when I remember the ways you said or did something ridiculous to make me feel better after a stressful day. I still feel the warmth of your body wrapped around mine when we did wake up next to each other, our legs entwined together to where it was impossible to escape. Not that I ever wanted to. 

I want you to keep smiling at me. I want you to hold me. I want you to miss me. I want you to want me. 

Because I still want you. 

…

I want to give you a second chance, Minho. If things could be different this time, if we could be different. If we could share ourselves, wholeheartedly, as lovers, and not strangers.

I want to fall in love with you again, Lee Minho. 

…

Call me back, when you get the chance. You can keep the shirts for now.

Just please, don’t make me regret this.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

ending note: I hope this didn't disappoint. I really tried my best to make it work with all the angst in here :D. I also tried incorporating parallels from Missed Call so hopefully that wasn't too annoying or anything <3

[dreamsinmoonlight]

Angel Massages

(Welp as promised, the sequel to Angel Cocoon, as voted on by the public. Rejoice!

Definitely didn't write most of this with my Adam plush on my lap, don't know what you're talking about

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Adam, angel!reader

Pairing: Adam x reader

Genre: Comfort, fluff (this time with a tiny bit more spice)

Summary: You deserve a medal for loving this idiot as much as you do. Aka Adam gets a massage and care.)

“This is your own fault you big goof.” The grumble you got in response was expected.

Mornings in heaven, with a lover like Adam, were pretty routine: you woke up, you found yourself encased in a cocoon of feathers and slightly squishy flesh, you'd end up laying there until finally the man himself decided to wake up, and then this. Without fail he woke up, blinking in that lazy sleepy way of his, and took note of your presence; this then turned into him giving one of those smug grins of his and holding you closer, rubbing his face against yours. This as always caused you to whine and complain, playfully of course, because of his stubble and you pushed at him to no avail as he stretched out his wings and you finally were able to a) see your room and b) get up.

“What babe, don't like a little early morning affection?” he asked, as if he didn't know exactly why you were trying to get free; he snickered and one hand found it's way further down, trailing down your body with obvious intent, “Maybe you'd prefer it a different way?”

Adam snickered and stuck out that tongue of his and you did your best to resist him, pushing at his chest. He was considerably larger and stronger than you, meaning he could easily hold you in place if he so wished, but he decided to be kind enough to let you get free and you shook your head at him. “You're incorrigible I swear.”

This made him laugh, and to say the sound of it didn't do things to you would be a lie. But you knew what was coming and like clockwork it did; he laughed and his wings stretched and then his expression turned annoyed and grumpy when the effects of sleeping with his wings wrapped around you two inevitably hit him. The soreness caused him to start whining loudly and lower the appendages, practically dragging them on the bed.

You sighed softly and climbed out of his lap, watching and listening to your giant manchild of a boyfriend complain. “Lay down already, Adam.”

“My wings are so sore,” he groaned, with the kind of tone you'd expect of if he was dying; it had occurred to you a while ago that to him, any sort of inconvenience was no different than that, a fact you were not sure if it was him exaggerating or actually so. It was always hard to tell.

You did your best to try not to laugh or smile too much at how he was acting, it tended to make him act out more and honestly you just wanted to make him feel better quickly so he'd go back to being his usual smug, grinning self. Again you sighed and got up, stepping around the bed to gently try to push him forward. “Adam, come on, please lay down.”

He continued his complaining but eventually did as you instructed, laying down with his wings stretched out. The first time you did this you had been struck with the beauty of his wings, to the point of distraction honestly; it was hard to concentrate when you're faced with something so pretty as those golden feathers on those long thin wings. The bed, large as it was and it was fairly big, couldn't really handle the full length of them so while they were not folded persay, they weren't actually entirely stretched out. You though were used to that and so was the crybaby continuing to act like it was the end of the universe and his wings were going to fall off or something.

For the thousandth time you thought about how much you loved this stupid, reckless, egotistical moron but aloud told him how this was his own fault before taking one of the wings gently in your hands and starting to manipulate it. You'd done this enough times, you knew exactly where to press and where to knead, and you couldn't resist smiling as you felt those warm feathers under your fingertips, the muscles and tendons and bones that all made up those magnificent wings; you felt them twitch and move, responding to even the lightest touch from you. You started near the middle and went outwards towards the tips, easing the tension out little by little before going inward again, moving towards there they joined into his back. It was a seamless point, as it was on all angels you suspected, but you moved it nevertheless, the way the soft down of Adam's wings became the warmth of his flesh and back as you moved to the other wing. You took your time and you bit your lip as you heard his complaints and whines and moans turn from pained and irritated to far more pleased. Maybe a little too pleased.

“God babe, you know how to make me feel good,” he groaned and the slight rumble to his voice could be felt down below.

“I'm not done yet,” you warned, feeling him shift and move, knowing that Adam had only a few true virtues and patience was 100% not one of them.

“Then go faster.” Not a request, a demand, and one you were going to ignore no matter what he said or did or made you feel with that voice of his.

“And risk your wings still being sore later? Besides we both know you like it when I go slow with this.” You smiled, feeling a bit playful as you continued what had become your morning routine; currently working on his own wing, going slow and deliberate as usual, you pressed your fingers into one particular spot, reveling in the reaction you knew you'd get.

You'd found it entirely by accident the first time, a little after this whole thing started, and usually you did your best to avoid touching it too much for this exact reason. It seemed to send a shock of electricity through his whole body and the noise that came from him was best described as “fuck yes”; his wings shuddered and stretched to their full length, causing one side to end up over the side of the bed and brushing against the carpet and the other side to very nearly slam directly into the wall. You managed to keep that one folded enough to avoid that disaster, that would have been counterproductive. Adam buried his face in the sheets and you were certain you heard swearing, he hated that you knew about that spot and hated it even more that you weren't afraid to use it for your own amusement and delight. But probably, you were certain, he hated it the most that his ears turned bright red and were not so easy to hide. There was definitely some growling and you leaned down to place a kiss between his shoulder blades with an angelic smile. It was easy since you were indeed an angel.

The fact he behaved after that was a miracle you were certain but not one that was going to end well for you. You knew too well your boyfriend, and you knew that while patience wasn't his strong suit, vengeance was. You took your time with his wings, enjoying every second of peace you got from this, knowing full well of what would happen next and doing your best to mitigate the damage. You completed your ministrations upon his wings and were about to massage his back, usually a good idea considering, but your hands never got close to touching that space again.

Despite his size Adam was a dangerously quick creature. He was dangerous in many ways as you knew. And the glint in his golden eyes as he managed, with agility and speed one wouldn't easily expect from someone like him, to pin you under him, his hands holding your wrists to the bed, it was enough to send your heart rate racing.

“You're a naughty girl making me wait, sugartits,” he spoke, his teeth showing in the shark grin he had now, that he so often had, “Lets see how you like it.”

His teeth found your neck and you let out only the smallest of complaints. Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have teased him. Now it was going to be you who was sore.

Oh well.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Always.

This is a sequel to Empty Words. I had someone ask for it and I was also thinking of writing one so here it is. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as the first part but I hope it’s up to your standards.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none?? If you see any plz lemme know and I’ll add them.

Words: 1.1k

EMPTY WORDS

-

"How long has it been?"

"70 years."

The words replayed in her head constantly. It had been a year since that day, since she’d woken from her Cryo-sleep. Steve sat by her side telling her it was no longer 1945 but much later, she shouldn’t even be alive.

Tony, Howard Stark's son, had been generous enough to offer her a place to stay at the compound. She had been fed by the girl, Wanda, every day and they gave her peace since she so desperately needed it.

She never got to grieve for Bucky, not long after Steve told her of his passing, she was captured. For some Hydra experiments, according to the guy who turned green.

She still had Bucky’s jacket. She’d woken up with it wrapped around her frame, and she refused to take it off. It was the only part of him she had left.

-

A knock sounded throughout the room. "It's me, I've got dinner," Steve spoke from the other end of the door, his voice slightly muffled by the thick wood.

"Come in." She spoke, her words monotone and quiet.

He set the tray of food down on the bed, pasta and sauce. Wanda’s favourite. He picked up on her gloom quite easily, it must have been a perk of the super soldier serum.

"Are you alright?" Steve questioned softly, a reassuring hand rubbing her shoulder clad in the dark military jacket. He watched as she picked at the food but never put any of it near her mouth.

He knew better than to push people to talk about their feelings, he hated it when people did it to him.

They had both bonded over Bucky. In the 40s, they never really got the chance— he was too busy being Captain America, and she was too busy saving people's lives away from the frontline. He had never really spoken to her, he knew a bit about her from his old friend’s stories but besides telling her about Buck he’d never really seen her himself. In the past year though, the two had become good friends.

"It's... our anniversary, today." Her voice was small, like the squeak of a mouse, almost as if speaking any louder would scare him away. Steve didn't know how to answer. He was an excellent soldier and had always been great with words, but even he became tongue-tied at the mention of Bucky.

He blamed himself, he could have done so much better than what he did. Countless nights he stayed awake wondering how he could have changed the past, how he could convince Tony to invent some contraption and put himself in Bucky's place. Maybe he would have survived the fall.

"I'm sorry," Steve's voice mimicked her own. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame in a warm embrace, the only form of comfort he could truly give her at that moment.

She cried into his arms that night. When he eventually left she’d flopped her weak body onto the large bed that was far too comfy. She tossed and turned with Bucky's coat, hoping, wishing that dreaming hard enough would bring him back.

-

The compound was under attack, she had strict orders to stay in her room. Steve had warned her, promised that he’d keep them away from her but passed her a pistol as a last resort.

She could hear the sounds of bullets flying around, hitting walls and people. She felt helpless just sitting on the wide windowsill watching the world go by, what could she truly do though?

Just as a dark feathered bird flew by her window the hairs on her neck stood on end— there were eyes on her, someone stood at her door. She mentally cursed herself for setting the gun on the bedside table.

The presence stalked forward, till his thigh bumped her shoulder. Her head tried to turn to him but the feeling of coolness; a metal hand, spread over the top of her head and turned her back to face the window slowly.

The cool fingers dropped to the side of her face, tucking a few loose stands behind her ear. Was he trying to torture her? or was she finally receiving a final act of kindness before the sweet release of death? Her eyes squeezed tight in preparation, no matter the outcome she would not watch.

Death never came, no, instead the soldier flopped his large body down beside her. He was still as rigid as before, she could feel as much from the way his arm brushed against hers.

When she finally turned to look at the face of the last man she’d ever see, her killer— the muscles around her eyes pulled them wide and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes, although obstructed by dark locks of her, emulated hers, shock evident in those deep blues along with the reflection of something she knew danced in hers— Recognition.

“B-Bucky?” She hadn’t realised tears were falling from her eyes until she spoke, her voice breaking. His head nodded softly, almost unnoticeable and his eyes glazed over as well. After all these years they were both alive, and the past 70 years' worth of bottled-up emotions bubbled over. She pulled him forward into her arms.

The way his tired body slumped forward into her frame told her he’d faced a similar story, he’d been holding onto a lot too. She could see Steve’s frame standing in her doorway in shock from her peripherals but she couldn’t find the will to glance at him. Not when he was here, not when Bucky was home.

“You came back” she whispered into his hair.

“Always”.

-

“Bahhhh!” God those goats were impatient. It must’ve been around 6 am, and the Wakandan heat blared through the mud-coloured walls.

“BAHHHH” the goat wailed again, more desperate and demanding than before. A groan sounded from the man behind her, his arm pulling her close and his lips ghosting over her bare shoulder.

“You gotta get up and feed them” she whispered silently hoping they’d disappear and leave them in each other’s arms, at least for a little bit longer. The heat made their embrace almost impossible to withstand but she’d missed years' worth of closeness to him, some sun wasn’t going to stop her now.

His grumbling vibrated against her neck before he pushed himself up to sit. He was quite the sight shirtless, much more muscular than before. The soft blue fabric wrapping around his left side and over his shoulder complimented his skin perfectly.

“Fucking goats” he complained as he threw the deep red fabric over his body, doing as much as he could with one arm before shifting to her for help.

Her fingers moved expertly over the fabric as they did every day, fastening it to his body before pulling half of his long hair into a bun.

“Love you” Her breath blew between his shoulder blades, her lips pressing into the nape of his neck as she wrapped the thin belt around his waist from behind— she’d become so familiar with the routine she could secure it with her eyes shut. He couldn’t help the way his worries fell apart at her soft touch.

His body twisted to face her naked one, his right hand finding her left, squeezing tight before dropping his fingers to roll the thin gold band around her ring finger; a symbol of his promise fulfilled. The matching one secured around his neck.

Steel blues ran up from their joined hand to her face, searching for her own eyes, asking in silence for permission that she was glad to give him as she leaned forward locking their lips together in a sultry dance that mimicked one of the many they shared all those years ago.

“Bahhhhh” he growled into the kiss and she couldn’t help the bubble of laughter rising from her throat. He’d never get a moment's peace with his girl with those beasts around.

-

Tags: @matchat3a

[gffa]

Hi, since you’ve been reading the star wars books, do you have one you’d recommend as a starting point for someone who’s never read any of them and is interested in seeing what they’re like?

Hi! This is going to be very subjective, given that I'm not sure what your favorite characters are or which era you're interested in, and if you're interested in the best books out there or ones that typify what the books are overall like. BEST BOOKS: - Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover, god-tier ability to take my favorite SW movie and make it even more emotional and hard-hitting. It adds even more depth to the story, has beautiful writing, and just is a really satisfying read imo. - Padawan by Kiersten White, which is a story about a young Obi-Wan going on an adventure by himself and I think really captures how I see his youth, that there was struggle and difficulty, but overall it explains why he loves being a Jedi and why there's so much joy in his life. - Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule is good for if you're interested in the High Republic stories and I still think is easily my favorite of the entire line. There was so much good foreshadowing and banger lines that really got Star Wars and was an exciting plot to really hook me on THR.

BOOKS THAT MOST TYPIFY WHAT SW BOOKS ARE LIKE: - Brotherhood by Mike Chen is one that I have some stuff I side-eye in it (everything with Mace) and some stuff I was over the moon for (everything with Obi-Wan) and some stuff I was in the middle about (everything with Anakin). That's Star Wars novels in a nutshell for you! (I also think Dooku: Jedi Lost by Cavan Scott is another good starting place, it's an audiodrama, but it gives an interesting backstory to the character, has some interesting Jedi worldbuilding, and does some really great character work with Asajj Ventress.) - Wild Space by Karen Miller is a Legends book (and I usually try to stick to Disney continuity just for ease's sake) but it has some eyeroll-worthy stuff, some unearned stuff, and some absolutely batshit bonkers in the best way stuff. It's a RIDE to read and maybe not one to take super seriously but I feel like it captures the spirit of SW books. (Alternate suggestion: Dark Rendezvous by Sean Stewart is a really good Yoda & Dooku book with a lot of good appearances by other Jedi characters and one of the better books for Jedi stuff, plus lots of feelings and banger conversations between characters.) (Alternate-alternate suggestion: Another Legends suggestion, since there are a lot of SW books in that continuity, you could read the Jedi Apprentice series by Dave Wolverton and Jude Watson, as long as you know they're aimed at a pre-teen audience and are written accordingly and they are SUPER dramatic and put Obi-Wan through the wringer. I'm not always wild about Watson's writing, but when she writes a banger line, she writes a BANGER line, and they're very fun books that a lot of fandom still folds into their writing.) - The Aftermath trilogy by Chuck Wendig is a good place to start if you want to explore the connective tissue between the originals and the sequels, though I always recommend that I think they work a thousand times better as audiobooks. It's mostly new characters (which, welcome to SW novels) but it also has some really good Leia and Mon Mothma scenes, too. - Leia: Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray is for if you're more interested in the Original Trilogy characters and while I wish there'd been more worldbuilding in this one, it's a solid story from someone who genuinely loves this character, and will give you a good idea of what you can expect from Leia books. (If you're more interested in a Han/Leia story, The Princess and the Scoundrel by Beth Revis is on the same level. Solid story with occasional moments of fantastic. I had a blast with the Leia sections especially!)

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You do your best not to let Phoebe and Jeff derail how perfect your weekend with Bradley has been. After dinner, the two of you start asking what comes next, and you take him to a spot on campus he has dreamed about but never seen before.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You should have known the two of them would be here to ruin your perfect night with Bradley. Your perfect weekend, really. But it was nearly impossible for you to think back on your time with Bradley ten years ago without Jeff and Phoebe popping up.

You tilted your face to look up at Bradley again, but his eyes were still focused across the room. "It's okay, Beer Boy. Let's get a drink."

Bradley turned toward you and nodded, and you ordered two beers from the bartender and handed him one. He laced his fingers through yours and let you guide him back toward the table where you had set down your bag. 

"Sorry. I just haven't seen or talked to either of them since I left for Rhode Island. Crazy."

"I wish we didn't have to see them now, either," you said, glancing over to their table again. You kissed Bradley's lips and whispered, "I will physically fight Phoebe if she tries to touch you."

Bradley laughed at that, and you smiled too. "You always were a little scrappy," he said. "But I don't think either of them could hurt me now, even if they wanted to. Which I certainly hope they don't."

"They better not."

You couldn't stop stealing glances at them though. Jeff looked exhausted, and he was losing his hair. Phoebe still looked pretty enough, you supposed, but she appeared to be with her husband who was plainly ignoring her and staring at his phone. And it looked like her hair was brittle and crispy from dying it several shades lighter than it used to be. 

Both of them looked miserable. Maybe they should have married each other. 

"Bradshaw!" came a booming voice, and you watched Bradley stand and accept a hug from Tyson.

"Hey, man. It's been awhile," Bradley said as you stood up as well. "Is your wife here?" 

You watched Tyson's eyes grow to the size of saucers, and Bradley casually reached for your hand. 

"No," Tyson said, still looking at you in surprise. "She's pregnant again and not feeling well. Decided not to come at the last minute." He smiled softly at you before glaring at Bradley. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you two were together again?"

Bradley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, we're not-"

"It's recent," you blurted out, earning a surprised look from Bradley. "It's good to see you, Ty."

"Yeah.... damn. This is such a flashback!" he said. "Bradley moped for months after you dumped him. But I guess you know all about that now."

You squeezed Bradley's hand tighter, but he was still looking at you like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"I can assure you that I also moped for months," you told Tyson, letting out a shaky breath. "You guys chat, I see someone else I know."

There was in fact nobody else that you recognized, but you needed a moment to yourself. Why did you insinuate that you and Bradley were together again? You weren't together. If he wanted you in that way, he would have told you where he lived. He'd had a full day to do so. And now he was flying home in the morning. 

You felt like leaving before you could start crying. You were going to ruin what was left of your time with him if you couldn't accept this for what it was: one perfect reunion weekend with your first love.

"I thought that was you."

You spun around and almost bumped into Jeff. He was staring at your cleavage as you moved your beer bottle in front of yourself to try to block his view. 

"Hi," you managed to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile like he was.

"You look great."

Since the same could not be said about him, you just kind of shrugged. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you're still with Bradshaw."

You took a deep breath. "He's wonderful," you managed to say. "What are you doing these days?"

"Oh, selling used cars," he mumbled. "You?"

Your eyebrows shot up. He had the same math undergraduate degree as you. "I work here. Teaching. Mostly computational physics and linear algebra, but I have a calculus lecture as well."

"Wow," he said, looking both annoyed and impressed. 

"Yeah. Looking at some other schools for tenure positions for the fall."

"Must be nice," he mumbled.

You nodded and looked him square in the eyes. "I worked really hard."

When you noticed Jeff's eyes looking over your shoulder, you felt a warm hand on your lower back. 

"Hey, Sugar," Bradley whispered in your ear, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Hi, Beer Boy," you whispered back, and without a single glance in Jeff's direction, Bradley guided you back to your table, leaving Jeff gaping at the two of you.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out your chair as dinner was about to be served.

"Of course. You didn't want to talk to your old buddy Jeff?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no. Figured you didn't really want to either." 

You laughed and took his hand as he sat down. "You figured right."

Bradley raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the leg of your chair and pulling you closer to him. When your graduating class president and the dean of admission gave their speeches, Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and your head came to rest against his shoulder. Of course his fingers found your tattoo, blindly tracing along your skin there. 

Your eyes found his when he smiled down at you. His impossibly handsome face and his warm, brown eyes and his perfect lips. How had you managed to go ten years without him? You reached up, stroking his mustache with your thumb until he was almost laughing. 

You whispered, "Missed you," and then he was no longer smiling. He was looking at you intently when suddenly everyone was applauding for the finished speeches, and the waitstaff started rushing around with plates of salad. 

So you ate your dinner with your thigh pressed up against Bradley's, sharing food off of each other's plates. You laughed at the throwback music the band was playing, and Bradley eventually went to get you both more beer. 

Everything was comfortable in a way that you didn't know you were craving until you were experiencing it. 

"Do you want to dance?" Bradley asked you as the band started up again and several people made their way to the center of the room. 

"Yes," you replied, and he pulled you to your feet. He guided your arm over his shoulder with a smile and wrapped his hands around your waist. You traced his faded scars with your fingers while he sang along to the song. 

"You have the best singing voice," you told him, your smile growing wide. "I forgot just how much I loved listening to it."

"Think they know any Grateful Dead?" he asked. "That was my favorite to sing to you."

"Remember when you made me watch like eighty four hours of their concert footage?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled you fully against him. "It was only like a fifteen hour DVD, Sugar. And we didn't even make it all the way through."

You licked your lips. "You're right. We found a different way to occupy our time."

Bradley's face was earnest and open, but there was still a smile dancing along his lips. "We sure did that a lot, huh?" 

You nodded and leaned up to kiss him before you said, "We've been doing it a lot since yesterday, too. This is one hell of a reunion weekend."

You watched the long scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed. "Is that it though? Is this just for the weekend?" His eyes were searching your face intently. 

The idea of ending things tomorrow morning was too much for you to take, but when you spoke your voice was tiny and unsure. "Do you want more?"

Bradley's eyes drifted closed and his hands slid up your back, holding you in place as his dancing slowed. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers on his neck. After a pause, he was looking intently at you again. 

"I wanted more ten years ago, Sugar."

The truth of his words stung you a bit. You'd wanted more, too. But you had also wanted him to get a chance to fulfill all of his other wishes and dreams, without making him feel tethered to you while you were so far away. 

"But what about now?" you asked. Then you took a deep breath and forced yourself to add, "Why didn't you tell me you live in San Diego?" Your voice broke on the last words, and you could see the look of panic in Bradley's eyes.

"How did you know that?"

You tried to pull out of his grasp as you swiped at the tears welling in your eyes. "I saw your luggage tag. In the hotel room. You live in San Diego, and you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

When you squirmed away, trying to put some space between you, he held you tight. "No. I wasn't going to tell you. Not yet."

"Why not?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of the band. "You don't want me now."

"That's not it!" he insisted loudly. "Sugar. Come on, baby. That's not it."

You just shrugged helplessly and looked around the room, the colorful lights obscured by your tears. "What is it then?" you asked, not meeting his eyes. 

He was stroking your cheek now, and although you tried your best not to, you could feel yourself melting into his touch. "Please look at me." You met his eyes and sniffed, and he kissed you softly, reverently, and you let him. "You're so smart, Sugar. And you work so hard." You watched him struggle with his words as so many other couples danced around you. "And I can't be responsible for derailing your career if Miami is a better choice for you. I can't do that."

"Bradley."

But he just shook his head. "No. You need to visit both schools. You need to remove me from this equation."

"But Bradley!"

"Sugar, you let me do what I needed to do ten years ago. It nearly fucking killed me at first, but I never blamed you for what you did. You kept me safe. And made sure I knew how you felt about me first. And you let me make my decisions for myself and not because I was focusing all my energy on you. It hurts me to say it, but thank you. And now you need to do the same thing for yourself."

You sucked in a deep breath. "And what if I choose San Diego? What if that's the right choice for me? Where does that leave us?"

Bradley smashed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again. His kiss was demanding, but it ended as soon as it began. "Ask me that again after you make your decision. Either way, whatever your decision is, ask me again, okay?"

You nodded at him. 

"And please forget about my luggage tag and my address and promise me you'll visit both schools."

"I will, Beer Boy. I promise."

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

Bradley held you tight in the middle of the dance floor, cradling your head against his chest and singing you another song. He was so close, once again, to telling you he loved you. He wanted you to know it, was pretty sure you already did, but he was too scared.

More than anything, he wanted you to choose San Diego. Because it was the right fit for you. Not because he was there. But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't want to play a part in your future plans. 

"Beer Boy?" you finally asked him. 

"Yeah, Sugar?"

You were smiling again. You seemed to be more at ease now that you got the information about his address off your chest. 

"Can we go? This is nice and all, but I just want to be with you. Alone."

"Let's go," he replied without hesitation. "Should I call an Uber?"

You nodded as he reached for his phone, and he followed you willingly to grab your purse. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Meet me in the lobby?" you asked. 

Bradley kissed your cheek. "Yep. Ride will be here in nine minutes."

You disappeared through the crowd, and Bradley made his way toward the lobby at a slower pace. He opened up the airline app when it prompted him to check in for his flight, but instead he started to scroll to see if there were any seats available on a later flight. He really needed to be back in San Diego tomorrow, but if he could stay with you for just a little bit longer....

"Bradley?"

He thought he was alone in the lobby. He knew that voice. He spun around and came face to face with Phoebe.

"Hi," he managed. "Phoebe."

"Wow," she sighed. "You look great. Even better than you did ten years ago."

"Yeah? Thanks." He swallowed, his throat tight. It was hard to even look at her, even after all this time. This woman had fed into and also stunted his self esteem for nearly four years of his life. 

"Your scars healed nicely."

"Oh," he muttered, brow furrowed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Bradley," she said quickly, taking another step into his personal space. "They never bothered me before."

He ran one hand down along his face. "I'm not doing this with you, Phoebe. I truly hope you've been well, but I'm not doing this."

Bradley started to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him with her hand on his chest. 

"I owe you an apology."

He froze and looked down at her in shock. 

She laughed bitterly. "I never could handle the rejection you gave me. But seeing you here with her? Still? My god, I feel sicker than ever over what I put you through. Sorry."

Bradley felt her patting his chest before she started to withdraw her hand. He stood completely still and then nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

He could hear your heels on the floor and sense your presence before he saw you, but instantly you were at his side, linking your arm through his.

You made a show of running your thumb along his mustache before tilting his head down and kissing him, and he let you do it. "Hi, Sugar," he whispered when you released his lips. 

Bradley watched you turn toward a bitter looking Phoebe and say, "Oh. You'll have to excuse us. We were just leaving." Then you tugged on Bradley's arm and led him toward the exit. "I saw her touch you," you whispered. "I didn't like that."

"No? What are you going to do about it, Sugar?"

You just smirked as he pointed out the car that had arrived to pick you up. "I'm going to take us on a little detour. That's what I'm going to do about it."

He opened the car door for you, and you gave a different address to the driver while you scooted across the back seat so Bradley could climb in as well.

"Where are we going, Sugar?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing you there. 

You were practically crawling into his lap when you said, "My office."

Bradley had pictured many times how you might look working in your very own office in academia. He figured all the college guys would be swarming your office hours to spend a little extra time basking in your presence. He also just knew you'd be a great teacher, one who graded everything farily. But getting to see your actual office? Mess around in it, perhaps?

He grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard you squeaked. But his phone started vibrating in his pocket against your leg. He yanked it out without breaking your kiss, and just wanted to silence it. 

"Oh, it's Nat," you whispered, pulling away from him and looking at the screen. 

Bradley grunted and quickly opened the text thread from one of the few people in his life who consistently talked to him on a daily basis.

Phoenix: How's your class reunion going? Haven't heard from you since yesterday morning!

When the car stopped at a traffic light, and Bradley looked at your face all lit up from the street lights, he put his arm around you. "Mind if I send her a picture?" he asked. 

You just smiled and said, "Okay, Beer Boy."

He snapped a few selfies of the two of you all cozy in the backseat, including one with your head resting on his shoulder and another one with your lips pressed to his cheek.

Quickly, he sent two of them back to Nat and then got his lips right back on yours. 

"Almost there," you whispered, pulling away briefly before licking Bradley's lips with the tip of your tongue. His black suit pants felt extremely tight at the moment the car pulled up to the curb in front of the building where Bradley used to walk you to your lab class. 

He helped you out of the car, and his phone started vibrating in his hand. 

Phoenix: OH MY GOD BRADLEY IS THAT SUGAR?

Phoenix: ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.

Phoenix: IT'S HER. ISN'T IT? SHE IS STILL FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU LOOK SO HAPPY.

Phoenix: WHY AREN'T YOU WRITING BACK?

Phoenix: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING? I AM SO SORRY! TEXT ME BACK LATER.

Bradley tossed one arm around your shoulders and let you read the screen along with him. You started cracking up. "Is it okay if I respond?" you asked, a huge smile on your face.

"Of course," Bradley replied, and he used the ID card you handed him to unlock the building, holding the door open for you to enter. 

"This way," you murmured with a soft laugh as Bradley followed you to the elevator bank, keeping his hand on the small of your back.

As you stepped into the elevator with him right behind you, he watched you send a message to Nat and then hand his phone back to him. He glanced at the screen.

You think I'm beautiful? Bradley was showing me a bunch of pictures, and I think you're stunning! I'm having the best weekend of my life, but I promise I'll return him to you in one piece. It's the least I can do after you've taken care of him all these years.

Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. "This is the best weekend of your life?" he asked as you laced your fingers through his and led him down the dimly lit hallway. 

"You know, it's not nice to read other people's conversations, Beer Boy," you said with a smirk as you used your ID card to unlock your office door. 

He looked at his phone again.

Phoenix: YOU CAN KEEP HIM! PLEASE KEEP HIM! I'LL SEND HIS FEEDING SCHEDULE AND HIS VACCINATION RECORDS.

Bradley put his phone away with a grin and let you lead him into your tiny office. Two walls were lined with shelves, one wall had a window with a view of the cafeteria, and your desk was right in the middle of the floor. Most of your things seemed to be packed in the cardboard boxes that were stacked up next to the door. 

"Well, this is my office. What do you think?" you asked, shrugging and spinning in a small circle. You looked perfect in your dress, with your tattoos and your mussed up hair. 

"I think...." he began, licking his lips as you planted your palms against his chest. "I think this is the best weekend of my life, too."

Your breathing was a little shallow as you looked up at him and nodded. "What are we supposed to do about it?" you whispered. 

Bradley kissed you softly. "You promised me."

You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. "I know," you murmured against his mouth, and soon he was tasting you, his tongue gently sweeping against yours. Your fingers scraped along the short hair at the back of his neck as you nibbled on his lips and gasped when he stroked your tattoos. 

Every little sensation, everything that was specifically you had him aching for more. There was no way he could be without you now. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. 

You broke away from his kisses and pressed yourself against his erection. "I have an idea, Beer Boy. What's your Professor Sugar office fantasy?"

He groaned, a deep, needy sound from the very back of his throat. You were gasping in his arms, mouth agape before he even said anything. "We really gonna do that?" he asked you, his voice raspy and broken as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Because I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time, Sugar."

Bradley eased his fingers along your bare shoulder and up your neck, digging them into the back of your head a little bit, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Yes," you agreed, already looking like you were in a daze. "I sometimes think about you when I'm alone in here. So it only seems appropriate."

He kissed you hard until you were moaning into his mouth. He wanted you in every way imaginable, all the time. But right now he wanted it sweet and slow and impossibly hot as he showed you just what he thought about when you were on his mind and his dick was in his hand. 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you backward until you met your desk. Then he spun you around and helped you grab onto the edge of your desk, listening to your hitching breaths and rubbing himself along your backside. "I need you to know," he whispered, pushing your hair away from your ear, "that I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Bradley," you groaned as he kissed along the back of your neck, sucking on your sweet skin until you were bucking back against him. 

"Fuck." He reached around to the front of your dress, taking the fabric on either side of the slit and bunching it up in his hands. Then he slowly guided it up around your waist and held it tight with his left hand. "I'd love to fuck you like this, Doctor Sugar," he whispered, running his nose behind your ear. "But with the finesse and restraint I did not possess when I was a student."

"Oh my god, Bradley!" Your voice sounded lighter than air in this small room, your bodies only lit up by the exterior campus lights that filtered through the window. 

He looped one finger through the elastic of the tiny underwear you had on and started to yank it down over your hips, sucking in a harsh breath as you wiggled against him until they were sliding down your legs. Bradley watched the lace land on the tops of your high heels, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with his right hand. He eased his pants and underwear down to his thighs and bent you a little bit at the waist with his large frame. 

"You're always soaking wet for me," he gasped as he reached around and slid his fingers against your slit. "You get like this for anyone else?"

"No!" you squeaked as he sunk two fingers inside you without any warning. 

"Just me? You'd get this wet if I was sitting in one of your classes, watching you teach? Soaking through your underwear, squeezing your thighs together in your short, little skirt?"

"Oh god, yes," you groaned, and he pumped his fingers in and out you hard, until you were practically screaming. 

When he slowed his pace again, stroking your clit, he told you, "I'd sit in your class and touch myself. I don't think I would be able to help it, Sugar." He held you firmly against him, pulling his fingers out and leaving you whining before coating his cock with your wetness. He nudged your legs apart with his knee and then guided himself to your entrance, your body welcoming him so sweetly as he bottomed out in one movement. 

Your head was tipped back, and he ran his slick fingers up your neck and between your parted lips. The feel of your tongue swirling along his fingertips and the vibrations of your moans had him shoving his fingers a little deeper. You moaned and whined as you cleaned his fingers while he fucked you at a steady pace. 

"What would I have to do to get an A in your class, Doctor Sugar?" You sucked on his fingers for another beat before he removed them from your mouth and grasped your chin instead. 

"I'd make you stay after class," you gasped. "Watch you touch yourself for me."

"Fuck, fuck!" Bradley growled, slamming into you harder, his left hand gripping your hip. He pulled you by your chin and the front of your neck, arching your back until you were whimpering, meeting his movements stroke for stroke. He could feel you fluttering around him, and he eased his big hand down over your breasts and your tummy until they met your clit. He gave you a sharp squeeze, and this time you did scream before he soothed you with his fingers. 

"I'm gonna cum," you cried, squeezing around him, but Bradley withdrew completely and spun you to face him. You looked up at him, shocked, and he pushed you back to sit on your desk, grabbing your thighs and thrusting into you again. 

You leaned back on both hands, eyes on his as your legs shook gently in his hands. Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips. He moved a little slower as you came for him, drawing out your orgasm and sucking on your neck as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

Then you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him snug against you as his thrusts grew shallow. "You gonna cum for me, Beer Boy? You gonna earn top marks? Be the teacher's pet?" you purred. And he kissed your mouth and your cheeks and your chin, memorizing the feel of your lips against his mustache as you whined. 

He filled you up, moving inside you until he was no longer dizzy with need. Bradley took your face gently in his hands, satisfied and so in love with you. 

"Sugar," he whispered, your body still intimately connected with his. "I l-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Hello? It's Ted. From security."

"Oh shit," you hissed, sliding off the desk and shimmying your dress back down. You looked so alarmed, Bradley had to stifle his laughter as he zipped up his pants and straightened out the rest of his suit. Then he groaned when you turned on the overhead lights. 

"Uh, hang on, Ted!" you called, kicking your underwear loose from your shoes. Bradley bent and picked them up, shoving them into his pocket as you opened the door a few inches. "Hi, Ted!"

Bradley heard the security guard's voice. "Oh, it's you, professor! I heard a lot of noise, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything is fine!"

There was a pause, and Bradley watched your shoulders tense up. "Are you alone?" Ted asked. "If you're not okay, I can help you."

You sighed deeply and tipped your head back before pushing the door open wide, revealing Bradley where he was leaning against your desk with both hands in his pockets. 

"Hey, Ted," he said with a smile, and he got to watch the much older man flush crimson as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Everything is just fine in here."

You pressed your lips together and also nodded at Ted. 

"Right, okay, well. You have a great night, professor," he told you before tucking his radio back into his pocket and hustling away.

You turned to look at Bradley with your hand over your mouth, and Bradley started absolutely cracking up. "Sorry, Sugar, but Ted's never going to look at you the same way again."

You lightly hit his abs, and Bradley pulled you into his arms. "I guess it's a good thing I'm technically only working here for two more weeks," you groaned against his neck. "Poor Ted." Then you were laughing harder in his arms, and soon neither of you could stop. 

Eventually, Bradley tilted your smiling face up to look at him. "I'm going to miss you so much, Sugar."

Your smile wavered a bit. "Can you stay longer?" you asked softly. "A few more days?"

He just shook his head and stroked your lip. "I'm leaving for a six week deployment on Monday."

"Oh," you sighed so sadly that Bradley immediately wanted to tell you he could stay for another week. Another month, just to be with you. 

"Sorry, Sugar."

You took his hand in yours. "Then can we go back to my house? And snuggle?"

"Please."

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

Thanks for reading and loving these two! I just loved the texts with Phoenix! Beer Boy and Sugar have one more night together.... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 6

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[paimonial-rage]

unwillingly - yae miko

requested by @andromeda-nova-writing

sequel to spark

“It’s quite alright,” she began, her voice as fine as silk. “I wouldn’t want to keep you against your will.”

You resisted the urge to bite your lip in frustration. She had been doing that, as of late, guilting you. After centuries of keeping her at a distance, you found yourself becoming greedier as of late. Was it that late night of weakness months ago or was it the truth of your past you both discovered just a few weeks before? Regardless, it was your fault. Here you were playing hot and cold while she wanted nothing more than the truth. 

“It is my duty to keep you safe, Lady Guuji,” you replied without thought. Your expression turned that time. You were free from the shackles keeping you prisoner in the past. And yet when put to the test, it was towards those very things you found yourself turning for safety. 

She sighed.

“Come now. After all we’ve been through together, don’t you think I deserve at least a hint of honesty? I’m not asking for much.”

You dropped your head, doing your best to ignore the way your sense of duty screamed at the way you were showing your emotions so openly. Though you were friends with Lady Yae as a child, the elders of the clan separated you both citing your status as a filthy half-breed sky kitsune. Your presence would certainly taint Lady Yae’s esteem. So, in accordance with Lady Saiguu’s supposed wishes, you were reduced to the role of retainer, never to overstep your position.

It was only when Lady Saiguu’s diary was discovered that everything was made clear. Though it was true that you were half-human, Lady Saiguu truly cared for you regardless of your blood. She wished that you would be a companion to Lady Yae into the future. However, due to the meddlings of the clan elders, you were treated beneath her. Though you were now free, old habits were hard to change. 

Turning your gaze to Lady Guuji, no, to Lady Yae, your eyes could not help but soften. From the curve of her lips to the violet of her eyes, she was beautiful. How you longed to run your fingers through her hair and pull her close. But how could you after centuries of keeping afar? Though you knew it not to be the truth, it felt as if your touch would dirty her. How could she not know she deserved much better than you?

“I… would like to stay, Lady Yae… With you,” you finally got out, doing your best to ignore the shame that was filling your stomach. “Please let me?”

How terrible you were. How filthy you were to speak of your desires so openly. Any more and you would certainly be brought before the elders to be whipped till you couldn’t speak. You couldn’t believe how she wanted you regardless. But before your thoughts could go any more negative, she turned and glared at you. 

“Will you stop that? I know what you’re thinking. How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to live by that order anymore,” she scolded, shaking her head. “Really, after all this time I would have thought you would have gotten it in your head by now that I want you here.”

“It’s not easy working through centuries worth of shame,” you admitted. “But I’m not unwilling to do it. Not for you.” 

The way her eyes narrowed in delight made your face heat ever so slightly. 

“Then I suppose there’s nothing else I can do but wait,” she hummed with a twinkle in her eye. “But hurry it up, will you? You’ve kept me waiting far too long.”