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slitherpunk · 1 month

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games i liked in 2023 (And Other)

I like games ! You know that ?! and I played a lot 2023! and I liked a lot :). They aren't in any specific order, it's just a little highlight of games that stood out to me this year. I've attempted to write a few thoughts on each so I hope take a look. I wrote playtimes for some also but that is very subjective.

-Ones that actually came out 2023-

Lunacid https://store.steampowered.com/app/1745510/Lunacid/ I think I mentioned enjoying this in 2022 but it officially released so I can say it was one of my favorite games in 2023 :3! I like to feel around this game's walls for secrets. I like the npcs that are full of hope and whimsy despite the bleakness of its world. Chill and occasionally spooky first person dungeon crawling around moody caverns and ruins varying from underground forests to vampire castles and blood lake. (Blood lake!!!! Lake of blood!!! Big creature there.) Lots of fun weapons and spells to find, I like the one that lets you turn blood into coffins.

~20 hours

Orbo's Odyssey https://feverdreamjohnny.itch.io/orbos-odyssey If you played the massively popular demo for "Peeb Adventures" by feverdreamjohnny then you know that Johnny makes some fun and funny games and this is certainly one of them. speedy and satisfying platforming! funny dracula moments! short and sweet.

~2 hours

A Walk in the Woods https://mooncaller.itch.io/a-walk-in-the-woods Quaint little GBStudio game :) Made by some friends of mine for a jam :) It's cute I like it. There's minigames where you catch bugs and birdwatch.

~30 minutes long

Undertale Yellow https://gamejolt.com/games/UndertaleYellow/136925 I've only completed the pacifist run and checked out a neutral run so far. as the title somewhat implies, this is a prequel to Undertale where you play as the fallen human who had the yellow colored soul. This Undertale fangame has a lot of charm!!! A lot of battles really feel like they could have been in the original, with quite a bit of extra flair in some circumstances.

~10 hours

vs really cool bird https://bobacupcake.itch.io/vs-really-cool-bird you know that really cool bird that rob bobacupcake made well you can fight it in undertale and it's really fun. yeah two undertale fangames. . . wat of it …

~30 minutes

Misericorde: Volume One https://xeecee.itch.io/misericorde I wont lie the main draw for me into this was cute anime nuns I sure didn't know a whole lot else about it when I dug into it. But it's (the first part of) a VN murder mystery! And I enjoyed it a whole lot. All the characters are memorable and I really enjoy how all of them have differentiating designs. The protagonist is so failgirl. She sucks so much and I love her. I'm very intrigued by the mechanics of the game's world, it clues you in near the beginning to expect something a bit supernatural/fantastical, which gives you (and later the protagonist) a curiosity about what's real and what isn't. The music is all very impressive too, with the ost reaching past 100 tracks varying through post-rock, folk, drum & bass, and others. (Remembering when the track "Scandal" played and my friends and I took a moment to be like- okay hang on this track pwns.) Big fan of its haunting locals and how the aesthetic of the game fits them well. Also the humor is a lot of fun, and I love all the moments getting to know the different characters. Very excited to see the eventual continuation of this.

~12 hours

Absolutely Perfect Specimen https://chambersoft.itch.io/absolutely-perfect-specimen It seems like a lot of people are craving toxic horror yuri lately. Here's a recommendation. It's a VN about the android maid "Pan" and the mad scientist girl who created her. Horrifying & gut wrenching & largely about having other people define you. The art and music is haunting & poignant and matches the ever increasing feeling of dread throughout. It's yuri with the chunks. Peak robotgirl horror for those who can stomach it.

~90 minutes

Wordhopper https://kokoscript.itch.io/wordhopper Very quaint word search type puzzle game for ms dos! I think its style is very slick and that's pretty impressive to see. Chill game with nice vibes and eyecandy visuals. also it was so cool to have played this and then ended up seeing the dev's booth at Vintage Computer Festival Midwest. I was like omg woah I just played this.

~bunny

Bossgame https://lilyv.itch.io/bossgame This game is yuriful as f*ck. Delightful humor and fun character dynamics! A simple-to-understand-difficult-to-master boss rush battle system that makes you satisfied to get it right, and enticing to get just a little farther if you get it wrong. There's a lot of detail and charm to this game's menus and dialogues and win screens, I remember noticing that once you beat a boss there would be some marquee text that would pass by with some prose on it. I love how it balances its silly moments with its heartfelt moments and its high octane moments. I like the character development and revelations had throughout the plot. & I like how good the protagonists are for each other :) It's very sweet. It's hype as hell. if you want some boss rush action paired well with that sweet sweet girl's love, you *will* play this game.

~5 hours

Elly's Adventure https://bikwins.itch.io/ellys-adventure Very cute and witchy!! You are the little witch girl "Elly" on an adventure to get your toys back!! Feels like a pretty authentic gameboy type experience, it takes a lot of design cues from Kirby's adventure and the like. I am a big fan of how playful it feels.

~1 hour

Nour https://store.steampowered.com/app/1141050/Nour_Play_with_Your_Food/ This was a treat for me, but I understand that not everybody is going to get it. It's a game where you play with food(and food accessories). And that's it. It knows what it was going for. I think a lot of people were expecting something else for some reason. It's a cute little toy game and I felt satisfied with my time with it.

~food

Hi-Fi Rush https://store.steampowered.com/app/1817230/HiFi_RUSH/ Do I have to say this game is super fun? It's a big one everybody probably already knows it. This game's dopey humor made me laugh a lot and I'm not afraid to admit it.

~12 hours

WHISKEY.ST2007S https://bonicle.itch.io/whiskey-st2007nes One of the last games I played in the year because it released super last minute. Does anybody else get a rush when running a shopping cart down the parking lot? This emulates that feeling. Short game where you collect whisky stones in the whisky stone dimension because you forgot to go christmas shopping until the very last minute. it rules. It's very short you can go play it right now & get a highscore.

~5 minutes

re:curse https://devpalmer.itch.io/re-curse Discovered this one near the very end of the year also. Fun little rpg maker horror/humor game about a weird scientist lady, her butch, and an evil clown computer virus that figured out how to warp reality. I got a kick out of it. and also enjoyed digging through the game's files, which was actively encouraged by the dev, which I thought was very fun.

~90 minutes

-Didn't technically get to until 2024 but released last year-

SWOLLEN TO BURSTING UNTIL I AM DISAPPEARING ON PURPOSE https://1207.itch.io/swollen-to-bursting-until-i-am-disappearing-on-purpose People love to dunk on a lot of indie rpgs for being "quirky Earthbound inspired and about depression" or whatever. Earthbound's great. If people can nail the kind of humor and absurdity it likes to pull off while also balancing difficult topics I think that deserves a high mark. SWOLLEN TO BURSTING was fun. Bizarre and charming places to explore & distressing secrets to find. I like how it blends meander-around-the-town gameplay with Yume Nikki sort of exploration and effects. Also I'm a big fan of the music. I like how it has the lofi sound which matches the early 3d look of the game.

~6 hours

HalOPE https://starbage.itch.io/halope Another for the fans of sweet little rpg maker games that have a lot of heart. HalOPE is about an incomplete little angel wondering through worlds. Each has a theme, usually to do with an emotion or feeling, and they do well at evoking that feeling as well as its antithesis. a lot of the music is very homey and charming at moments and unnerving at others, sometimes lonely, all doing well in their corresponding chapters to further the feeling of its specified theme. There are so many delightful characters and designs in this & I found myself feeling really attached to their tiny little stories. The narrative at the core of it all hit me. If I may be vulnerable, I cried a whole lot at various moments in this game. It was really cathartic. I feel very excited for people to experience this game.

~5 hours

-Favs I finally got around to that didn't come out 2023-

An Outcry https://quinnk.itch.io/an-outcry Kind of sad it took me so long to get to this one, but glad it meant I got to play the "definitive" updated version of it. Apartment wandering RPG maker horror. Bum smokes from your neighbors and use them to save the game. I wish I could unwrap a lot more of what I like about this game than I can without spoiling too much. But if I could, I'd probably go on for too long. Let me attempt to be succinct & not giving too much away. You can tell pretty early on that An Outcry is about taking action when necessary & not turning a blind eye. What it explores about player vs protagonist agency is very fascinating to me as well, and I enjoyed learning about the inspirations for why the game's narrative works the way it does. The character Anne is such a sweetie and I love her a whole lot. This game has a very tangible feeling, this apartment complex is dirty and crumby, it smells of smoke, and there's a surrounding desperation you can feel.

~5 hours

Pigments https://punkcake.itch.io/pigments Honestly I had gotten this game in a bundle and while I was playing it I hadn't looked at the name and I just kept calling it FRUIT. On call with my friends I'd be like "hey im gonna play more FRUIT". I straight up didn't read the title screen. But it's called Pigments. You play as a fruit and you try to paint the whole floor and not get sliced by buzzsaws. Fun little arcade type game.

~fruit

Bridge, October 3rd https://lowpolis.itch.io/bridge-october-3rd Very short vignette. I like it. It's what it says it is. I'm not going to overexplain.

~like a minute

-Other Games I Want To Mention-

Pseudoregalia https://store.steampowered.com/app/2365810/Pseudoregalia/ I think a lot of people might have already known this one but I felt like it was a pretty fun 3d platformer. There were a few issues I had with it (boss fight at the beginning was frustrating, and I got lost a lot [but it looks like there's been a map patch by now, so, perhaps for some that is a fix]). I enjoyed it but sure felt weird that the only accessibility option was to give the protagonist pants. What kind of joke is that?

~5 hours

Mushroom Musume https://mortallymoonstruckgames.itch.io/mushroom-musume (Disclaimer, this game is still early access, but I saw a lot of people talking about it last year. SO I will mention here?) Haven't played much of this yet, but I have enjoyed what I played so far!! As of writing I've gone through 6 playthroughs, I feel like I've hardly scratched the surface and I've been so impressed by its depth. It's very charming, you never know what sorts of fairytale shenanigans are going to happen, and it's very cool to see how your different stats will affect things. It very much plays out like a roguelike vn. Which is not the sort of thing you may expect to make much sense but it pulls this off well. Also all the mushroom girls are very cute and I love them very much. I hope the sad goopy one who had bugs in her skin rests in peace.

~mushroom

Knuckle Sandwich https://andybrophy.itch.io/knuckle-sandwich -_- Hm. Where do I start with this one. I was pretty excited for this one since the demo and kickstarter in 2018. I felt like the demo was a hell of a hook that got me curious & horrified. As time went on, it seemed to be shaping up into something really cool. turn based combat with action commands and wario-ware-type microgames?? with a banging soundtrack?? like, count me in!! Then it released and well, the gameplay, art, music all delivered. It was very fun and engaging in those aspects. But the story… oh it just devolves into disappointing nonsensical randomness. The whole hook at the beginning seemed to be completely thrown away for the wild goose chase plot that ensues, leaving you to wonder if it was ever going to be relevant again. It felt like it had no idea what it was trying to say or do. It disappointed me that a game that has so much good in so much else about it gets brought down so much for me by this plot.

~12 hours

Rhythm Doctor https://store.steampowered.com/app/774181/Rhythm_Doctor/ (Putting this one in mentions because it is early access.) I really enjoyed the act 5 release. When I first saw this game, I kind of shrugged it off, thinking "that base mechanic doesn't seem like it will last". I thought it was basically just that one ghost shooting game from Rhythm Heaven which I Hate. Well let's just say I am now seeking penitence for my previous transgressions. It's really fun. There's a lot more to it that I didn't know when I first took a look. Also, consistently amazed by people's custom levels, I had no idea that its level editor allows people to do so much in it, I look at some levels and think "This editor seems as complex as an industry standard video editor". I'm looking forward to what they're planning next, very curious how they could possibly one-up the last update.

~rhythm

El Paso Elsewhere https://strangescaffold.itch.io/el-paso-elsewhere This was really fun & funny so far but unfortunately I had been encountering an issue with a certain level where the game would crash. I reported the issue, got a response, and there has been an update since then so I think there's a possibility that it got fixed but I have not tried yet. I would like to return to this sometime but having to relearn controls midway through is always daunting to me.

-Things that looked good but didn't get around to-

Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood https://store.steampowered.com/app/1340480/The_Cosmic_Wheel_Sisterhood/ Still don't know a whole lot about this. But there are witches, and I like witches.

Casette Beasts https://store.steampowered.com/app/1321440/Cassette_Beasts/ I haven't felt thrilled about Pokémon lately. I know a lot of people seemed to really enjoy this little monster-collecting-rpg. The style is appealing to me as a die-hard gen 5 fan. I started playing it but haven't set aside the dedicated time for it yet, but I'm excited to dig in more when I do.

Little Goody Two Shoes https://store.steampowered.com/app/1812370/Little_Goody_Two_Shoes/ Started watching a friend play this, and I'm certainly curious.. Some sort of horror fairytale but also there's yuri? Yum. Enjoyed the style and animation in the nightmare segments that I saw.

Venba https://store.steampowered.com/app/1491670/Venba/ I've picked this up a while ago but still haven't gotten around to it, but I'm eager to, I've heard nothing but good things.

Goodbye Volcano High https://store.steampowered.com/app/1310330/Goodbye_Volcano_High/ I think there are gay dinosaurs in a band and it's going to be the apocalypse? I have also heard nothing but good things about this.

-Things I watched friends play-

Signalis https://store.steampowered.com/app/1262350/SIGNALIS/ This was a pretty big one. You probably already know it, right? Watched a friend play this and I missed various parts but I understood a solid bit of it. hey. robotgirls are always getting put in these fucked up situations. have you noticed this? one time i got really high and cried about it. it isn't fair

Bomb Rush Cyberfunk https://store.steampowered.com/app/1353230/Bomb_Rush_Cyberfunk/ This one was also probably big enough you don't need me to sing its praises. but it looked really neat. swag.

-Various Thoughts-

Lately I've been thinking more about design and narrative. I feel like I haven't been doing as much analysis as I should be when it comes to games. I want to dissect more what games are saying and figure out meaning. Also attempt to see how the mechanics aid in that. I feel like most of my own work is pretty abstract & random. I simply make what I like. While that's fun and all, I still want to improve in a lot of ways, especially in having more of a theme or message. Figuring out how other games accomplish this is obviously a good step toward this.

If you saw games here that interest you I highly urge you to take a look, many are pretty short, and I pretty explicitly wanted to highlight some smaller titles. If you know me you know I like to uplift small games. (Save for the occasional big game, but that's rare these days) I think it's healthy for you to play and support independently developed & published works. I don't want to ramble too much this time about why that's important, but I hope that you might have found something you may enjoy here and if not then I encourage you to find small stuff that you would like. And I would like to encourage everybody to share their findings as well! Little games need our help to be seen and talked about! They don't have the budgets the big ones do for advertising, and advertising on your own is a whole ton of work. If you like something, spread the word! I'm sure the developers would very much appreciate that.

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ilovetulips · 1 year

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fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson

part 2 !

WARNINGS : smut 18+ pls ,, age gap (ages aren’t rlly mentioned but r is 21, e is 39) ,, p in v and all the stuff that comes w it ,, lots of petnames ,, use of yn!

A/N : first smut ive ever written. so scared rn. hope u all like it

———

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely petrified walking into the small hallway containing each tattooist’s room. your legs were shaking and your heart was pounding, so much so that your vision blurred as you stepped up to your assigned room.

“eddie munson”, you could eventually make out from the sign on the door.

entering the spacious room, you look around and take in the darkened walls littered with various drawings, the long bed on the left side covered in cellophane and the faint sound of music playing.

it took you a while to finally catch sight of the mess of dark curls on the right hand side, bopping his head to the music slightly, small grey hairs shining in the light and his hand scratching his pencil against the paper below him.

“h…hi.” you voice squeaked out in a stutter, sounding completely different to how you usually speak.

“can i help you?” he barks out rudely, not even turning to look at you.

“oh i’m sorry, i must’ve got the wrong room. sorry for disturbing you.” you begin to back out of the doorway behind you, before his brown eyes shoot up and meet yours.

“shit- sorry sweet thing, thought you were maria from next door. c’mere, sit down.” he gives you a cheesy smile while his eyes widen slightly. “you my 2 o’clock, yeah?”

your palms shine with a thin layer of sweat, originating from both excitement and nerves. “mhm, should be under the name y/n.”

“gottcha sweetheart, beautiful name. what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hm?”he rolls over in his chair to where you’re sat on the bed, placing his large palms over your trembling knees.

he smirks down at them before focusing on you, his pupils blowing out and looking at your lips every now and then.

“it’s m’first tattoo… can you tell?” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, his face intimidating you - not that you were scared of him, he was just really attractive.

“yeah, you’re shakin’ like a leaf doll, but i’m here to help ya stay calm. whattcha thinking of getting?” he tucks a stray hair of your behind your ear before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

god his arms were consumed in ink, only adding to his attractive qualities.

———

you spoke to eddie about the design, placement and all necessary paperwork before you were relaxed on the bed, laying on your side and watching the boy prep his tattoo machine.

you had a few voice cracks and stuttered a bit while talking to him, mostly due to his stare shrinking you, but he had made you feel extremely calm while prepping you.

“mkay doll, gonna need you to lift that shirt up a tad for me n’ we’ll get started. no rush, you tell me when you’re ready and when you wanna stop. can you do that for me darlin’?” his chair rolls back over to you, his gun ready to go.

you nod your head and reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. you’re stopped, however, when eddie’s calloused hand covers yours.

“words, sweetness. need you to use ‘em.” he taps your skull with his other hand, and pinches the hem of your shirt with the other.

you can’t deny the blush tickling your face is because of him slowly driving you insane, but you’re not going to stop him. “i can do that.”

“for me?” he tilts his head, crows feet creasing around his eyes as he smiles.

“for you.” your lips stay in the oval shape as he moves your shirt himself, yet you can’t take your eyes of his own lips. you have no idea how old he is. late 30s maybe? is this wrong? you shouldn’t feel attracted to someone like 18 years older than you… right?

he catches sight of the band of your bra, all cute and lacy. now it’s his turn to blush slightly. he can’t help the wicked grin spreading across his features, such a pretty girl wearing such a pretty bra.

“now you tell me if it hurts too much, wouldn’t want to cause such a precious girl like you so much pain.” he’s good at this. really good at this. your face was now beet red, and your thighs were unconsciously clenching together. you hoped he wouldn’t notice - he did. and it went straight to his ego.

———

you’re about 15 minutes into the tattoo itself. eddie taking his time and meticulously placing every line with care. you can’t help the small noises you make when it becomes particularly painful, once again hoping he didn’t notice.

he stops with a sigh, the faint bzzing making the silence grow louder, and the tension more suffocating. “sweetheart, if you don’t stop making those pretty noises i’m not gonna make it through this tattoo.”

his darkened pupils look up at you through his curls gracing his forehead. you didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at him with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. you, luckily, were too oblivious to notice the amount of times he had to adjust himself in his pants, and the prominent boner he was sporting right now.

he knew it was “unprofessional”, but he had never had a client like you before. you walk in with a cute little shirt and skirt, lacy underwear and give him doe eyes while moaning to yourself and expect him to not react?

“m sorry… didn’t realise i was doing it.” you look away from him, trying to focus on the artwork on the walls, but only being able to focus on the growing wet patch in your underwear. he has a way with words, and he’s incredibly attractive.

“don’t have to apologise, i like ‘em. but they’re driving me insane over here princess.” he leans down to meet your eyes in front of your head. the tension was so intense you were practically choking on it. he can’t help but reach over and trace your lips with his thumb, pulling your bottom lip down while you let him do it.

“so pretty.” he mumbles, leaning back and patting your thigh before reaching to finish the tattoo. “want you to lie just on your back now, yeah? nearly there doll.” and so you do, until the pleasure pain was so much that you were arching off the bed, your breasts nearly spilling out the top of your shirt.

eddie was glad he was wearing jeans that day, so the wet patch of precum in his boxers wouldn’t soak into their material. you, however, were not glad to be wearing a skirt with such easy access to your underwear, and the larger wet patch soaking them.

“fuck- baby you can’t keep doing that. you’re makin’ it real hard to concentrate over here.” he rubs his hand over his face and reaches for the cup of water on the small table next to him.

“…sorry.” you smile sheepishly. “can we… uh take a break?”

“course princess, you want anythin’?” by anything he means a snack or some water - but you’d hoped the offer was for something else.

you shake your head no before looking back up at the ceiling. that didn’t last long until you could feel someone’s eyes on you - eddie’s.

he was sat, legs spread and arm leaning on it, his veins prominent in the hand pinching his lip. but his eyes were the most captivating, as they were black. full of lust and desire. you saw the affect you had on him, and to be honest you have never felt so attractive or turned on.

you turned your head to look at him, lolling it to the side before contorting your body fulling to the side. your skirt flicked up and caught your hip as you did, revealing your panties and causing eddie to groan.

he clamped his eyes shut before walking over to you, gripping your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and forcing you to look up at him. “i can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose, or you’re just dumb.” his words shocked you.

“m not doing anything, eds.” you tilt your head to the side slightly, smirking as you did so. you weren’t doing it on purpose yourself, but maybe your body was just reacting naturally to him and doing it to make him look.

“eds? we’re on nickname basis now sweets?” he leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your lips as you squirm under his gaze. you nod dumbly as his hand travels to grip your jaw and rub his thumb across your lips again. you were practically panting, desperately trying to relieve yourself without him realising.

“you gone all shy now? after that whole performance?” he presses his lips to the base of your throat, peppering slow kisses up it’s centre before meeting your lips. “maybe i’ll just let you sort yourself out. who knows who else you’ve been a little slut for.”

a whine escapes your lips as he pulls away from your lips, missing his warmth. the name going straight to your cunt and making you needier.

“jus’ you. i promise. couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“don’t act all innocent with me angel, i know what you want, and you know what you were doing. want you to tell me what you want from me.” he crouches down in front of you, hands on your thighs and inching up slowly.

“need you to touch me. want you so bad.” you squeak out, shuffling about on the bed.

“oh yeah? want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” he peels back your skirt, your panties on full display as you lean on your elbows to look at him curse under his breath. he grips your knees and spreads your legs further apart, eyeing the wet patch between your legs.

“god you’re so wet, i can see it from here. got you all worked up hm?” he presses kisses on your inner thighs, watching you squirm until he roughly grabs your hips. his stubble scratching your thigh slightly as he kisses higher.

you hum in agreement, focused on the growing tension about to snap. that was until you felt his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear, pulling them down to show off your glistening folds.

he growls slightly, groaning at the sight before pulling your panties off and basically diving into your pussy. licking strips from your hole to your clit, humming and rolling his eyes back at the taste.

he was eating you out like a starved man, sucking at your clit and poking his tongue into your hole while you were a moaning mess above him. writhing and wriggling your hips, grinding into his face while you were overcome with intense pleasure. he brought his hand up, inserting a finger inside of you before lifting his head up and smiling.

“tastes like heaven, sweetheart. so so sweet f’me fuck.” he reaches that spongey part inside of you, your moans growing whinier as you reach your climax. he roughly covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sounds you’re making before watching his finger plunge in and out of you.

he starts sucking at your clit again, mewling at the taste of you before adding a second finger to thrust into you. your eyes were rolling back into your head as he coached you to your climax. you failed to notice the poor boy practically grinding the floor, trying to find any way to relieve himself while relishing in your pleasure.

“you gonna cum baby? yeah? go on, cum all over my tongue darlin’”. he poked his tongue back into your hole before making his way back to your clit. he was sloppy, the sounds of him and his tongue filling the room and probably the hall next to it. you didn’t have time to think about it though before white fuzzies took over your vision, and the coil inside you snapped.

eddie slowed his pace down, but lapped at the hot white liquid spurting from your hole. he was basically kitten licking it by the time you’d snapped out of your intense climax. you’d slept with guys before, with women before, but none had ever made you feel like this.

so you grabbed him by his hair into a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. you hum sweetly at the taste of yourself being transferred from him to you, trailing your hands down his chest and towards his bulge. he looked big, but nothing could’ve prepared you what he was actually hiding.

he sat down, spreading his legs as you knelt down in front of him, holding his cock in your hand and staring at it. he hissed as the cold air hit his sensitive tip, sticky with precum. he chuckled darkly at your expression, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your cheek lightly a few times.

“you okay there, doll? you can take me.” he smirks, smug from your expression. you lean in, licking a stripe from his base to the tip and taking extra time to lick the prominent vein pulsing on the side. he groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips up into the air before you grasp him with both hands and lick his tip a few times.

you watch his face the whole time, scrunched up in pleasure and making him look so much more attractive. swirling your tongue around his tip and licking the precum away, you start to take him down your throat until your nose hits the base.

“fuuu-uck. where’d you learn that you little slut? used to suckin’ big dick are ya?” his groans are sent straight to your core, making you wetter than before.

you pull away with a ‘pop’, and look into his eyes. “you’re so big, eds. biggest i’ve ever seen.” you’re about to go down again until he grabs your face harshly, puckering your lips while he stands and looks down at you.

“don’t believe that. you gonna let me fuck your face now, sweetheart. quit teasin’.” he holds his cock, guiding his tip to your parted lips and thrusting his hips in slowly until you’re gagging. strings of curses tumble out of his mouth at the sensation as he pulls out and fucks your face harshly. his balls slapping on your chin while you moan and clench your pussy as he uses you as a fucktoy.

“such a good girl, letting me ruin your pretty mouth like this. fuck- perfect angel.” he’s holding your chin as tears flood down your cheeks from gagging so much. he’s thrusting so intense that your jaw is starting to ache.

“shit shit shit - gonna cum sweet girl. swallow it all f’me, be a good girl.” and so you did. hot ropes of his salty release coat your tongue and the back of your throat. you stick your tongue out at him, so he can see the dollops of him cum he left there before you swallow it all happily and sit up to kiss him again. watching you, eddie could feel himself getting hard again.

his tongue swipes over yours, both of your recent releases mixing together in your mouths. salty residues left at the corners of your mouths before you pull apart.

“bed. now.” he pants at you, walking you towards it until your back reaches it and you fall back. you spread your legs again, giving him a look at your pussy dripping with arousal again. he watched as a bead of the liquid travels down your thighs, before he laps it up and rubs his tip through your folds.

the sensation of his tip hitting your clit almost had you screaming, but you bit down on his shoulder instead as he sharply sucked air through his teeth.

“eddie- please.” you pant, the words coming out strained from desperation. hearing you beg for it did something to him, blood pumping to his tip more than before.

he plunged into you slowly, the burn of the stretch adding to your pleasure as eddie groaned. he went all the way in and stopped, kissing your collarbone before looking at you.

“feels so fuckin’ good. so tight for me.”

“move. please move- fuck.” he pulls his hips sharply, before slamming them back into pace and setting a rough pace to fuck into you at. he was so big, it felt like he was ruining your pussy and your organs. his tip prodding against your cervix, creating a bulge in your stomach that he pressed on.

“look at that. too big for your pussy to fit. fuck” the rough pace he set had led your moans into an incoherent string of words. you couldn’t process what was happening, just the intense pressure building in your stomach causing you to clench around him.

“y’fucked all dumb up there, angel? fuck- clenchin’ around me like that m’ not gonna last.” his hips stutter before falling back into their pace.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck” high pitched screams sound out of you, not caring who can hear anymore because it feels so good.

“my dumb girl, pussy’s made f’me isn’t she. god you’re perfect.” you can’t help but drool at his words, being fucked so dumb that you can’t remember words.

you clench harder around him, indicating you’re close as your moans mush together. his hips falter again, becoming overwhelmed by the wetness squeezing his cock. he reaches his hand down to your clit, and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around and rubs it in circles around the nub.

the sensation is so overwhelming, your orgasm crashes over you with no warning. you hadn’t even got a chance to warn eddie about needing to pee - which didn’t matter anyway as you squirted all over his dick. the lewd sounds still filling up the room as eddie doesn’t slow down.

“squirting all over me, fuckin’ slut. you’re gonna stay here till i cum, use you as my own little toy.” you were falling into being overstimulated, the climax still having it’s effects on you. but you notice him slowing his pace down.

“shit- gonna cum. can i cum in you, doll? feels so good i don’t wanna pull out. please?” he flops his head to your shoulder.

“please cum in me, eds. want you to cum so deep in me.” before you knew it, his warmth was spitting out of his sensitive dick, painting your inner walls white and mixing with your own release as he pulls out of you slowly.

the white liquid of both of your releases drips out of your hole, before eddie quickly puts your panties back on you to prevent it from dripping out, giving the puffy mound a few playful taps and causing you to hiss from overstimulation.

“want you to keep it all in there for me, like the good girl you are.” he kisses you sweetly before flipping your skirt back down and making sure you’re okay.

———

“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” the man says next to you, arm around your shoulder as you trace the tattoos on his chest.

“me too. felt so good eds.” you smirk at the new nickname. you sit up and grab a pen from the table next to you. finding a space between the collage covering his body, you write your number down.

“i wanna see you again. call me?” you rest your chin on his chest.

“course i will sweetness.” he kisses your head before standing up and sitting back down in his rolling chair.

“y’wanna finish that tattoo now?”

3K notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 9 months

Text

Nothing is Easy

Synopsis: Y/n gets into a crash in Mexico, and it keeps her from finishing the 2023 season. It’s a long road of recovery, but it pays off in the end

female driver reader x F1 2023 grid

(reader is 24 in this one, and she drives for aston martin)

“And here she is now! Y/n L/n, we were just talking about you, how are you feeling about Mexico?” Martin Brundle approaches you while you’re walking through the paddock.

“Oh, hi Martin!” You greet the commentator with a smile.

“I’m feeling good, it’s nice out, there’s a lot of fans here, and the team is looking good today” You shrug.

“So, we can expect big things from Aston Martin?”

“Yeah, me and Lance and the team are all confident in the car and we’re hoping for a good finish in the points” You speak for your teammate, Lance Stroll, and the rest of the Aston Martin garage.

“Alright Y/n, thank you for talking with me and good luck on the race” He nods and places a hand on your shoulder before walking off to his next interview-ee.

All of what you said was true; you were just coming off a P6 finish at the Austin Grand Prix, it was a calm, sunny day in Mexico City, the stands were packed with eager fans, and everyone in Aston Martin had confidence in their driver lineup.

You and Lance first became teammates in 2021 when Racing Point became Aston Martin and as a part of their rebranding, they named you, the 2020 F2 World Champion, as a part of their 2021 Driver Lineup.

It took a bit for you to get used to the car, frequenting P10 and P9, but was fairly successful in 2022, getting used to taking P7 and P6. You and Lance worked together quite well, being the same age and having the same goals in Formula 1.

You felt less nerves and more anticipation as you completed your usual race day routine. It was the 20th/23rd race of the year and you’ve completed the same routine for three years, so your body is on auto pilot all morning.

A tap on your shoulder from your race engineer, Ben Michael, brings you out of your daze. “30-minute warning, Y/n. We have the get the cars out and onto the grid” The older man says to you.

You nod and pull off your headphones before replacing them with your helmet and balaclava. When you turn, you’re surprised to see your teammate mirroring you. “Good luck, we’re going to do great, yeah?” Lance sticks out his hand in a fist bump and you raise your arm to meet it.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck” You both move to get into your respective cars and wait for the signal to exit the garage.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we’re about thirty seconds away from light’s out now. All twenty cars are out and completing the formation lap, here’s what our top 10 of the starting grid looks like;

“Lance Stroll, P10. Y/n L/n, P9. Oscar Piastri, P8. Lando Norris, P7. George Russell, P6. Sergio Perez, P5. Lewis Hamilton, P4. Charles Leclerc, P3. Carlos Sainz, P2, and starting at pole position is Max Verstappen” David Croft commentates for the viewers.

“71 Laps ahead of us, let’s see what unfolds, it’s light’s out and away we go! Verstappen and the Ferrari’s get away with no problems. Hamilton is off, trying to get away from Perez behind him”

“Russell is scrambling away in attempt to bring a gap between him and the two McLarens. Both Aston Martin’s start flawlessly, DRS isn’t available until Sector 2, but it looks like L/n is already trying to get a bit closer to Piastri in front of her”

“Okay Y/n, once DRS is available, push to catch up to Piastri and try to overtake him. We’re looking to advance early so Lance can get some overtakes done as well” Ben becomes audible through your radio.

“Understood” You reply before refocusing on the orange car in front of you.

“Lap 4, no changes in the lineup so far, but I wouldn’t speak too soon. Y/n L/n is gaining on Oscar Pisatri in front of her. Just leaving Turn 7, she’s going down the inside, wheel to wheel as they go into Turn 8, leaving Turn 9 does she have a lead?

Yes, she does! Y/n L/n has a McLaren beat, and I don’t think she’s going to hesitate in moving onto Lando Norris”

“Lap 12, now. Verstappen is, predictably, still leading, both Ferrari’s persistent behind him. Lewis Hamilton in P4 with his teammate behind him, trying to get away from the Aston Martin’s of L/n and Stroll, both just overtook the two McLarens of Norris and Piastri”

“Lap 20 and tension is starting to rise here. Most of the race today has been between Y/n L/n and whoever is in front of her. Right now, George Russell has his foot against the gas, taking every opportunity to try to extend the gap between him and the Aston Martin”

You’re trailing Russell as you approach Turn 2. Turn 3 is the last corner before the long straight and if you want to get up into P5, you have to catch up with him before the next bend.

“Y/n, you have more pace. You are faster than Russell, push and you’ll beat him” Ben speaks. “Understood, I’m trying” You reply shortly.

“Here we go, DRS is enabled. She’s gaining on him, trying to at least go wheel-to-wheel before the long straight. L/n’s moving aside from behind Russell and going around the outside”

The front of your car is aligned with the middle of his and you move to the right to avoid contact.

“They’re almost wheel-to-wheel! L/n’s front left tire is right behind Russell’s front right tire, George is not backing away from this”

You try to move closer to finish the move and before you can shift to the right again, your front left makes contact with George’s front right tire.

“There’s some contact in the tires and Y/n is spinning! She makes contact with George Russell and spins across the track!”

You see a blur of dark green and a mess of orange pass you, probably cars swerving around your collision.

“George Russell continues fine, moving ahead. Martin, I don’t even think he’s realized what happened” Croft speaks to the man next to him while staring at the track in front of him with worry.

You’ve managed to stop your car, but you’re in the middle of the track, so just as you’re about to turn your head around to look for the perfect opportunity to set yourself right, you feel a world of pain on the left side of you.

“Esteban Ocon did not see Y/n L/n’s car in front of him! He’s hit into the side of her Aston Martin! I think he tried to swerve to avoid her, but he was going too fast!” Crofty shouts.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Esteban Ocon’s Alpine has T-boned Y/n L/n’s Aston Martin and it’s a red flag”

Your eyes are closed both in fear and pain, causing you to miss all the other cars weave around the collision in the middle of the straight. The other 18 cars were guided into the pits by the safety car, so when Esteban climbs out of his car and runs towards yours, he doesn’t have to worry about other cars on track.

Your five senses are scrambled. All you feel is the pain in your hip, the only scent you smell is fuel, and while usually the scent will remind you of your karting days, it now just clouds your brain’s attempts to figure out what the hell happened.

A metallic taste fills your mouth, and you assume you’ve bit your lip so hard in pain, it started bleeding. Your eyes are closed and all you can hear is the combination of a voice in your ears, someone shouting near you, and the buzz of the crowd around you.

You force your eyes to meet the harsh Mexican sun and the distressed frame of Esteban Ocon hovering above you. You realize the voice in your ear is Ben through your radio, and it takes you a worrying amount of time to refocus your attention on the steering wheel your hands still clutch and answer the question your race engineer has been asking non-stop.

“Yeah, I’m okay. For the most part. I think” You radio back to the Aston Martin garage. You realize that that buzzing in your ear is only half because of the crowd, and it takes a moment for the humming to calm down so that the Alpine driver is audible.

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Are you okay?” He shouts and you quickly lift your hand to meet his resting on the side of your car in hopes he will stop yelling. “I’m okay, Esteban” You shift uncomfortably.

“Actually, I think I hurt my hip. I can’t move my left leg at all”

The Frenchman looks slightly relieved. “Do you need help getting out? I can-” You interrupt quickly.

“No! Please don’t do anything, I’ll just wait for the marshals” You weren’t very good friends with Esteban, but you appreciated his care for a fellow driver.

The marshals you spoke of arrived a few minutes later in another safety car and an ambulance. You told Ben that you couldn’t move, and the medics arrived prepared to lift you out of your crash car and onto a gurney. Once the marshals assured Esteban you would be okay, he was escorted into the safety car and back into the paddock.

The radio messages in team garages were confidential, so viewers and drivers only knew your status because of David Croft’s commentary.

“After a few minutes of uncertainty, it’s clear that Y/n L/n is okay and out of her car. According to the Aston Martin race engineer, Ben Micheal, she is off to the medical center and in good hands” Crofty says with clear traces of relief in his voice.

You ride in the elevator clutching tightly onto your race suit. Now that the shock of the crash is gone, the only thing you can feel is pain in the left side of your hip. It’s a searing pain that has spread across your body, but it burns the most above your thigh.

The medics inside the ambulance do the work of pulling your race suit down your body to make your hip visible and you try your best not to wince every time a hand touches the left side of your body, but you do it so much it becomes subconscious.

You get wheeled through the medical center and into a room where two doctors immediately start working around you. You hear one talking about x-rays and having a proper ambulance being called to take you to the closest hospital once they examined your hip.

Your eyes are shut in pain, but you look up when you hear the voice of your PR officer and best friend in the paddock, Addison, asking the doctors for an update on you. “We can’t be 100% sure but from the looks of it, it might be a fractured hip” The female doctor says. Addison sighs and frows before going to your side to replace your clinched race suit with her hand.

“Are you okay?” The British woman asks. “No” You grimace “Am I going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, the ambulance is on its way, should be here in a few minutes”

You’ve never been in an ambulance before, and the underwhelming expirience does nothing to cheer you up. You enter the hospital through the ER entryway, but it doesn’t stop everyone in the waiting room from staring at a woman they find familiar.

You get x-rays done first and then a different doctor comes into your room to update you on the results about an hour later. Apparently, you have a femoral neck fracture in the left side of your hip, meaning you broke the top of your femur bone.

In order to prevent further injuries, you needed surgery as soon as possible. You’re 24, so you’re beyond eligible to deal with your own medical incidents, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Addison helped you figure it all out and within three hours, you were being wheeled into the operating room.

You were put to sleep while surgeons placed three steel screws through the top of your femur and into your pelvis. It took three hours, but it was successful; you were still in a daze once they took you for another round of x-rays.

It freaked you out a bit, seeing and knowing steel was screwed into your body but your hip didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did before, so you count it as a plus.

While you’re sitting in your hospital bed after your surgery, your doctor and surgeon knock on your door. “Hey Y/n, how’re you feeling?” The surgeon says.

“Eh, I’m okay. The anesthesia has mostly worn off but I’m still kinda tired. My hip doesn’t hurt as bad, though”

“That’s good. So, we’ve printed out all the necessary information for taking care of your fracture in here” The surgeon holds up a packet of papers. “But I’ll give you the gist of it now” He continues.

“You’ll have to stay in the hospital until Tuesday night and because you still need to get home, but because you can’t travel normally with your fracture, you’ll need to leave in a scheduled airliner. That means that you’ll fly on a stretcher installed in the plane with a medical flight attendant looking after you”

“When you get home, you’ll have to book a follow-up appointment to follow bone healing. All the wound care and pain medication information are in here” He pauses to hold up the packet as the man next to him continues

“You’ll be able to walk and sit and lay down just fine, you’re just going to experience some pain when you do. Physical therapy is recommended, and it will take about 3 months of training to regain total range of motion and strength”

“Now, I know you are a Formula 1 driver, but for the sake of your hip, I instruct you don’t drive for six weeks at least”

In all the information he gave you, that was the one sentence that stuck out to you. Six weeks means you won’t be able to race for the rest of the season.

Shit

Addison squeezed your hand and sent you a sympathetic look. You think the two doctors said a few more things but the only thing you noticed was when they left. “I-I can’t drive?” You said in disbelief.

“Y/n, there’s only three races left, you won’t be missing much-” Your PR officer said but you interrupted.

“It’s still three races! I was doing great; I was scoring points for us and now I’m just out?”

“Y/n, maybe this is a good thing” She shrugged and picked up the packet on your night stand.

“It says that after these types of car crashes, your reaction time will be slow, and we don’t want you out there when you’re not ready”

You were about to continue your argument, but instead you just sighed and threw your head back into the pillow, grumbling, “Fine”

Your two days in the hospital were filled with answering messages and daily checkups. A lot of people had contacted you with worry, and you had a few discussions with the engineers at Aston Martin.

Expectedly, they were as frustrated as you once they heard of your condition and set up a time with your PR team to announce it. You talked to your family and friends first, ensuring you were okay and would be heading home soon.

Most drivers on the grid heard that you were going into surgery and texted to make sure you were alright, and once you replied to them, you went on social media to see what everyone was saying.

On Tuesday night, you packed up all your things and changed into the clothes Addison brought you in preparation to leave for the airport. All the excitement from the Grand Prix was gone from Mexico City, so you had no trouble navigating through the airport.

The flight was a bit strange; having to lay down the entire time and have an attendant checking up on you every hour, but you managed.

It was relieving to finally get home after an exhausting week away, and you realized you should get used to being at home. Like the doctor advised, you made a follow up appointment and scheduled physical therapy appointments to fill two months.

The doctors you met at the follow up appointment removed the staples used to close up your wound and a few days later, you were going to your first therapy appointment.

The worst part about being bed ridden was the fact you could not watch the races in person. Along with not driving, you weren’t supposed to travel for 6 weeks.

From your couch you watched Felipe Drugovich race your car in Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. You watched Max win the 2023 Championship and Lance finish 9th in the driver’s standings.

As soon as you could, you were on a flight to the Aston Martin Headquarters in Silverstone and included in many meetings regarding your injury and how to advance. You spend a few days in England on the simulator and being analyzed by race engineers.

You do the same once you arrive home, and your off-season schedule becomes fairly structured. You wake up, do the most amount physical training you can with your fitness trainer, go to physical therapy, race on your simulator, and go to sleep to do it all again tomorrow.

You travel to the Aston Martin headquarters a few more times but you don’t see anybody outside of your team until the pre-season testing session in February. You’re walking, without any pain, to the Aston Martin garage with Addison by your side when you feel two hands on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” A French voice exclaims. “Hey Esteban!” You turn to find the Alpine driver grinning. Since your crash, Esteban has checked in regularly asking about health updates and it became the beginning of a friendship between you two.

“It is so nice to see you in the paddock again. You are feeling better, yes?” He brings you into a hug as you walk together.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. I finished physical therapy last month and I was cleared to drive a few weeks ago”

“That’s great, I’m so happy you’re okay. I will see you later, Y/n” Your friend bids you goodbye and turns to walk to his own garage.

“You say hello to Esteban and not me?”

A voice comes from behind you, and you wheel around to see your teammate. “Hi Lance” You bring your teammate into a hug with a smile.

You’ve seen Lance a few times at Aston Martin HQ and it’s common for you two to train on your simulators at home together.

“How’s your hip, metal man?” He teases as you laugh. “It’s steel, actually, and it’s okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore” You nod.

“Good. Be careful today, I want my actual teammate with me this year” Felipe adjusted well to your car and sudden promotion, but your contract was solid, and the Brazilian remains as your reserve driver.

“Don’t worry, I will be. See you later, Lance” You waved as he said goodbye and you both entered your garage then to your drivers' rooms.

The testing session proved to be successful, as both Aston Martin’s traded taking fastest laps. Both of the new cars had several upgrades done on them over the winter break and you’re glad to see they’ve paid off.

Pre-season testing is fairly low-key, so after finishing your run, there was no media for you to complete and you were free to go back to your hotel to prepare for tomorrow.

Both green cars performed strongly on Friday and Saturday, and you left Sakhir Track confident.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the first race of 2024. After a few months of winter break and three days of pre-season testing, we have all twenty drivers in their new cars, 30 seconds away from lights out.”

“And, for the first time since Mexico 2023, Y/n L/n rejoins the grid after a hip fracture. She’s healed splendidly after her surgery in the beginning of November and with the Aston Martin’s looking fast, she’s expected to do well here in Bahrain” Martin Brundle introduces today’s race.

“Here’s our top 10 on the grid today; Max Verstappen, P1. Charles Leclerc, P2. Sergio Perez, P3. Y/n L/n, P4. Carlos Sainz, P5, Lewis Hamilton, P6. Lance Stroll, P7. George Russel, P8. Lando Norris, P9. Pierre Gasly, P10. It’s going to be an interesting race, the light’s come on, and its light’s out and away we go!”

You’ve waited five months to get back in your car and you’re not about to waste the opportunity. Instead, you win.

“1st race of the year, her first race in five months, her first race win, Y/n L/n goes P1! She went through a Ferrari and two Red Bull’s, and now she goes through the checkered flag first!”

And you win again.

“For the second time, Y/n L/n wins the Grand Prix! She started P5 and worked her way up to P1! What a battle between her and Verstappen! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re only in Saudi Arabia, but it’s safe to safe I would follow those two cars wherever Formula 1 takes them if we get more races like that!”

And again.

“She does it in Miami! As her fourth race win, Y/n L/n beats Max Verstappen to the checkered flag with her teammate behind her in P3!”

And again.

“Martin, I can’t believe it. Y/n L/n wins her fifth Grand Prix in Monaco! It’s only the 8th race of 2024 but we are looking into a very exciting racing season ahead of us”

“So, Y/n” A reporter asks you during a press conference in June. “Max has won six races” She gestures to the Red Bull driver next to you. “And you’ve won five, looking to make it six this weekend in Austria. Is it safe to say that it’s going to be between you two for the 2024 Driver’s Championship?”

“Well, I mean it’s never good to speak too early, but we’ve both been looking promising this year and according to our stats, that’s where we’re headed”

“It’s Max Verstappen’s home race here in the Netherlands, but it’s not going to be easy to win. Y/n L/n has been right on his tail all race, her teammate Lance Stroll behind her in his own fight with the other Red Bull. My, if you asked me if this year’s rivalry would be between Aston Martin and Red Bull, I would not have believed you”

“And it’s the first 1-2 for Aston Martin! Lance Stroll goes P1 with his teammate right behind him! Great day in Singapore for the Canadian, outstanding day for everyone wearing green!”

“We are back in Mexico today, the very race she crashed at last year, but if she’s nervous she doesn’t show it. It’s Y/n L/n for her 9th win in Formula 1 and in the 2023 season! Verstappen in P2, Stroll takes P3, Perez, P4, and Sainz, P5”

“In the November air, Daniel Ricciardo goes P1 in Las Vegas after Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n collided and retired! An amazing day for the Australian, a frustrating one for the Red Bull and Aston Martin drivers”

“After Verstappen took his ninth win in Quatar, he and L/n are now tied with wins and very close in points for the Driver’s Championship. Max starts P1 today in Abu Dhabi, and if Y/n can get in front of him, Formula 1 will have its first female World Champion”

You’ve come way too far to lose like this. It’s been probably the most stressful season you’ve driven in ever, there’s no way you’re going to lose after it all.

“Y/n, relax” Your teammate places his hands on your shoulders.

“You’re going to do great. You’re going P1, trust me. You don’t need it but good luck, we’re all rooting for you” Lance sends you a smile and you’re struck with gratitude for your teammate.

“Thanks Lance, you’re going to do great too”You hug your friend before pulling your balaclava and helmet on.

“It’s an anxious day in Abu Dhabi, this race could go either way, it’s lights out and away we go!”

You remember Daniel comparing the 2021 Abu Dhabi race to a flip of a coin, and you think history has repeated itself. All 58 laps, you and Max take turns overtaking each other.

This time, it’s not just Sergio playing a team’s game; Lance helps in whatever way he can, whether it’s taking your spot when you’re in the pitlane or defending against Max so you can pass him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, after the most exciting season yet, Y/n L/n overtakes Max Verstappen and becomes the world champion! It took a long road of recovery, but the reward is sweet! L/n takes the checkered flag first and the arena is booming with noise! The coin has landed on her side today, and she accepts it happily”

The Aston Martin Garage is just as happy as you are, bringing you into hugs and jumping up and down, grins never leaving their faces. Lance joins you on the podium in P3 and you two soak each other in champagne. You shake Max’s hand politely but continue to beam as you wrap your home country’s flag around your shoulders and wave at the crowd.

With steel screwed into your hip, you stand on the podium with your trophy held above your head, looking down at everyone who has waited for this moment as long as you have.

#formula 1 #reader insert #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #platonic f1 grid #f1 imagine #female driver reader #recovery #aston martin #aston martin driver reader #platonic lance stroll

548 notes · View notes

mika-writes-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window.

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two.

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to your friend’s roommate, you hope to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him.

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment.

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn.

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.”

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction.

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter.

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice.

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence.

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features.

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive.

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over.

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice.

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs.

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that.

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response.

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks.

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing.

Oh god.

He’s fucking ripped too.

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you?

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke.

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you.

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is?

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.”

Oh great.

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole.

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response.

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement.

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words.

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him.

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.”

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir.

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows.

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him.

Yeah.

That’s all it is.

You just want to learn from him, is all.

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core.

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows.

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat. They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes. From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring.

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies.

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back.

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you.

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you.

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition.

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea.

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans.

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him.

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance.

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory.

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you.

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class?

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness.

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face.

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure.

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot.

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher.

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily.

You just want this to be over.

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition.

The message is clear.

You are off limits.

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment.

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry.

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath.

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back.

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress.

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off.

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you?

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you.

Fuck.

You want him so bad.

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging.

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him.

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction.

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips.

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone.

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric.

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor.

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing.

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight.

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease.

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace.

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted.

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door.

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act.

Only, it never happens.

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.”

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face.

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains.

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers.

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?”

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth.

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers.

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now.

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste.

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him.

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him.

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock.

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix.

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure.

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you?

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock.

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities.

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him.

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together.

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir.

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder.

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock.

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming.

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth.

Shit, he’s getting close too.

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation.

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white.

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below.

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants.

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.”

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper.

Fuck.

Maybe it’ll dry off.

You hope so, at least.

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward.

How do you proceed from here?

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him.

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question.

“Yes, what is it?” He answers.

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water.

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.”

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?”

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.”

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him.

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

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abellmunsonmovie · 2 months

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"Always take care of you"

Word count: 1,904

Warning: F!Reader, age gap (Eddie is in his late 30s/early 40s), swearing, implications of sex, bad parentals (dumped my daddy issues into this one), use of Y/N, pet names (a lot!)

Also if this is not your thing, completely understand! But please do not send any negativity. Thanks! -Bella

The men in your life have always been, to say the least…not great. You and your dad have had a very rocky relationship, he’s an emotionally unavailable asshole, and even though you used to be close…now not so much, it’s been like this for a few years, but oddly enough, you’ve always been close to his friend, Eddie.

You’ve always somewhat looked up to him, he had a cool guitar, he can sing, he’s got tattoos, and most importantly…you could trust him, you felt safe with him.

Today was, unfortunately, familiar, your dad was being a complete ass. He’s questioning your beliefs, your politics, how you dress, the things you like, making you feel like a disappointing child, calling you names, overall just putting you down, and usually you just…defend yourself, get yelled at, then go to your room to calm your nerves, but today, your emotions got the best of you, of course you wasn’t gonna let your dad see that, so you went to your room and called Eddie.

Have you ever told Eddie about how big of an asshole your dad really is? No, one you don’t wanna ruin their relationship, 2 what if Eddie stopped coming around? But Eddie was one of the only people you could trust, with tears falling down your face, you call Eddie, and after a few rings he picks up.

“Hey, kiddo” Eddie says cheerily, he loves talking to you, you're so interesting, and funny, and smart, and overall an amazing kid, you sniffle, “Hey, Eddie” you say with a quivering voice, Eddie hears this and his smile immediately drops, “You okay, babygirl?”, your heart cracks a little more, “Are you at work right now?”, you ask trying to keep it together, “No, d-do you need me to get you? Are you hurt? You need anything?”, this is more concern than your dads ever had for you in your entire life, “Um…yeah can you come get me at the gas station by my house?”, Eddie knows that gas station, he’s been there a thousand times coming from and to your house, “I’m on my way, I’m like 5 minutes away okay, honey?”, you sniffle, “Okay, thanks Eddie”, he smiles softly, “Of course…see you in a sec”, he hangs up the phone, you hurriedly put on a jacket since it’s raining and some shoes, you sneek out of your window and book it to the gas station.

After you get to the gas station you wait there for a few moments, and then you see Eddies van pull up, Eddie gets out of the van, and as soon as you see him you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him, he caresses your head, and holds you close, “I got you, baby…Come on get inside the van before you catch a cold.

Eddie opens the passenger side for you and helps you in, he jogs to the driver's side and starts driving to his place, its silent for a few minutes until Eddie sees you shivering and takes off his leather jacket, “Here baby, put this around you”, you take the jacket and wrap his around yourself, it smells like Eddie. The scent of weed smoke and Eddie’s cologne fills your nose, “Thanks” you murmur, and takes your hand and rubs it with his thumb, “What happened, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly, you sniffle feeling tears burn your eyes, “My…my dad…”, his eyebrows squeeze together, “What about your dad?”, a tear falls from your face, you wipe it away quickly, “He hates me…”, he shakes his head, “Honey your dad does not hate you”, more tears form in your eyes, “Then whys he always making me feel like shit!” you snap, you don’t mea to it just…comes out, Eddie turns the radio down before locking his fingers with yours again, “What…baby…What’s he sayin’?”, you sniffle and wipe your tears, “…He’s always making me feel bad…making fun of me…making sure I know everything I fuck up…he makes me feel like i’m such a failure”, Eddie pulls over and stops you, “Y/N…you are not a failure…you’re beautiful, smart, funny, cool…you’re anything but a failure baby…and if your dad is too fucking dumb or too big of a fucking asshole to know how amazing you are, just know…I know you’re amazing”, your heart shatters, you cry quietly and Eddie leans over the seat and hugs you, “You're a good kid, Y/N…Anyone would be lucky to have you as a daughter…never think anything your dad says is true…cause it’s not, trust me, I’ve known you since you were a little kid…have you said anything to him about this?”, you continue to cry and you nod, “He doesn’t care…says I’m sensitive…asks if I’m on my period”, Eddie clenches his jaw, he’s so angry. so. fucking. angry. Eddie pulls away slowly and wipes your tears away while he holds your face his his hands, “Your staying at my place tonight, ‘kay?”, you nod looking into his eyes, he kisses your forehead and pulls you into another hug, “I’ll take care of you, babygirl…always”, you snuggle into his neck more and nod, he kisses your temple before pulling away slowly before starting the car and driving to the grocery store.

In the grocery store he buys you all of your favorite snacks, favorite sodas, and he buys you your favorite ice cream. Once you get out of the store he drives you to his trailer, he opens the car door for you and you both go inside his home. Eddie puts all the food away, while you sit on the couch, after Eddie finishes putting the groceries away he walks over to you, “Your gonna catch a cold, why don’t you get into some dry clothes, they might be a little big but at least you’re not gonna get sick”, you smile softly and nod, “Thanks Eddie…”, he smiles and walks into his room and picks out an old band tee he thrifted and some grey sweatpants, “Here baby, go change into these”, you take the clothes and go get changed into Eddie’s clothes, after you get dressed you put your hair up into a low ponytail. You walk back out to Eddie, he smiles at how good you look with his clothes on, you walk into the kitchen where he’s standing and he rubs your back while he hugs you, “Feelin’ any better, baby girl?”, you nod and snuggle into his neck, he smiles softly and kisses your hairline, “Good… go pick somethin’ for us to watch while I cook dinner, alright?”, you nod and Eddie smiles as he kisses your head again. You go snuggle up on Eddie’s comfy couch, you throw a blanket over you and you rest your head on a pillow, you turn on your favorite movie and you fall asleep feeling safe and peaceful. Eddie notices this and smiles at your beauty, you look just like an angel, which almost made him more pissed at your dad, why the fuck would you ever be mean to such a sweetheart like you?

After dinner gets done, Eddie makes you and him a plate, and he wakes you up gently, rubbing your arm and kissing your forehead, “Baby… dinners done”, you wake up yawning, you smile at the sight of Eddie, Eddie gives the same warm smile back, you sit up as Eddie hand you your plate, he asks you about the show you put on, letting you ramble about it, you guys watch the show while talking, Eddie seems genuinely interested in the show and into what you have to say about it, during dinner he makes you laugh, he makes you smile, he makes you feel a lot better.

After dinner, Eddie cleans up, while you tell your mom you're staying at Eddie’s for the night, Eddie sits down on the couch and you walk out from his bedroom after getting off the phone with your mom and he smiles at you, making you blush and smile back, “C’mere” he says motioning to sit on his lap, you bite your lip slightly and he pulls you into his lap, making you giggle, “Your so cute, yknow that?” he asks smiling, you smile softly, “Thanks”, he kisses your head and you lay on his shoulder looking up at him, “You got pretty eyes…” you mutter, he looks you in your eyes, “Thank you, sweet girl” he says brushing some strands of hair out of your face, you blush and feel your heart beat faster, he caresses your face, you snuggle into his neck whining softly, “What is it, baby?”, you whimper softly, “Sleepy”, he smiles and picks you up, “You can sleep in my bed”, he carries you to his bed and covers you up before kissing your cheek, “Night, sweets”, as he begins to walk away, you grab his fingers, “Wait! Eddie…”, he turns around and rubs your knuckles with his thumb, “Need something, pretty girl?”, you nod, “You…” you say shyly, he smiles, “Want me to sit with you?”, you shake your head, “Can you hold me…atleast just until I fall asleep?”, his smile widens and he turns the lamp off and gets into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your waist, facing you. Eddie closes his eyes and rubs your back, you look up at him and say “Eddie?”, he smiles and looks down at you, “Hm?”, “Thank you…for everything”, he smiles and pulls you close, “Don’t need to thank me baby…you're my girl…I wanna take care of you”, you smile and kiss his cheek which makes Eddie's face turn a light shade of pink, “…I love you, Eddie”, his smile grows and kisses your forehead, “I love you too, my pretty Y/N”, you smile warmly, “Eddie?”, “Yeah?”, your heart beats faster, “Can you…Can you kiss me?”, Eddie smiles and caresses your face, “You sure baby?”, you nod instantly, “I need you Eddie…”, Eddie feels his face go hot, he softly presses his soft lips against yours, running his fingers through your hair, his other hand meets your hip and he pulls you in closer, he pulls away slowly, “Baby?”, you look in his eyes, “If you really wanna do this you gotta promise me something”, you nod, “Anything”, he smiles softly, “Promise not to tell your dad…not yet’, as you nod you say “I promise”, his smirk grows, “Good girl,” he says before meeting his lips with yours, the kissing leads into making out and the making out leads into something more…

Eddie pulls away from you slowly, collapsing next to you, panting, his bangs sticking to his forehead due to sweat. You are breathing heavily, trying to get yourself together, trying to come back from one of the best experiences you’ve ever had, Eddie grabs a rag and cleans you off, gets you water, massages your shaking legs. After Eddie slips back into bed and pulls you close, “You did so good, baby, I’m so proud of you, sweetheart”. He says kissing your forehead, making you smile, “I love you so much, sweet girl”, your smile widens and you kiss his lips, “I love you too, Eddie”, he hums kissing your hairline, as your cuddling you feel yourself drifting to sleep but before you do you say, “Thank you again…for taking care of me today”, Eddie smiles pulling you closer to him, “Of course baby…Your my girl…always take care of you”.

Love you! -Bella

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things #eddie blurb #older eddie munson #eddie munson angst #daddy issues #comfort character #abellmunsonmovie writes

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yunalinwrites · 2 months

Text

saved by the bell (sneak peek) | fushiguro toji x reader

summary: fushiguro toji never makes first moves--until he happens to meet the teacher of the son he hasn't seen in years.

strangers -> fwb -> lovers

takes place in 2006 around the star plasma vessel/hidden inventory/premature death arc; megumi is a first grader

about reader: female, around 30 or older, teacher, has a soft spot for megumi, speaks kind of formally, has daddy issues

warnings: none rlly rn, toji's kind of an ass

notes: not sure how many chapters this'll be total but this is only the beginning of the first chapter; currently working on the third. also familymart is a japanese convenience store chain

hope u like!

He'd only just stepped out of the FamilyMart, been on the street for all of two seconds before he heard the call of his name.

"Fushiguro?"

It was tempting, given the desperation in the repeated shouts, but he didn't bother looking towards their source. It's not like he really recognized the voice, and he sure as hell wouldn't recognize her face; he made it a point to never look them in the eye.

"Fushiguro?"

It was starting to become irritating, though. It was nasal, kind of sounded like the one from last week... No, a broad like that would know better; she played the same games he did. So, maybe the one from last night? Yeah... Didn't seem like she knew how to keep her strings to herself.

"Fushiguro!"

Well, whoever it was, she was only getting closer. The calls were getting louder, and so was the splash of her heels against the wet concrete. Realizing this, he shut his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose, letting the rain run down his dark hair, over the scar on his lip, and into his mouth as he opened it and whipped his head around in annoyance.

"Thought I told you not to--"

"Sorry, excuse me!"

You shoved past him, catching his widened eyes with yours for but a moment before continuing to run frantically and nearly slipping when you came to a halt and crouched down.

"Fushiguro!" you exclaimed, adjusting your umbrella to accommodate the little boy. "There you are. I told you not to run off like that!"

The boy kept a fixed gaze ahead of him, only interrupting it to wipe his eyes as the rain dripped into them, his usually spiky black bedhead weighed down completely against his face.

"Where on earth did you go?" you asked, examining him for clues.

"There's a monster," he replied plainly.

Finding nothing of note, you checked your watch with one hand and used the other to hastily grab his, barely registering his claim.

"Well, there certainly aren't any monsters on the bus. Not to mention, it's warm and dry. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Your phone vibrated in your coat pocket with a wave of texts--the faculty group chat, you figured--as you moved to obstruct his view with a smile. "Your classmates are wondering where you went."

Still unfazed, he tugged on your blouse and pointed. "Can't you see it?"

You didn't really have time to humor him--the incessant pings now replaced by your melodic ringtone--but still, your eyes followed the end of his little pointer finger, looking hard for a monster but finding only a man.

You scanned the sight as much as the umbrella would let you, the spokes ending just below his eyes. There wasn't any "big purple worm" that you could see, like the boy was mumbling on about, but you weren't really listening; what you were looking at at the moment didn't make you feel much safer--a bulky, brick wall-like frame hidden behind a black T-shirt and gray sweats, a fist clenched tightly around the handle of a milk jug, and, most notably, a rugged scar running perpendicular to scowling lips.

Quickly, you pushed the boy's hand down, not even thinking to correct his rude gesture as your voice darkened, "Come on, we need to go."

You stood up from your crouch, pulling the boy along with urgency and speeding up as you passed the stranger, the umbrella angled so it sheltered the boy and covered your face.

The man watched you walk away, staring at your polka-dotted umbrella, trying to burn holes into it, but to no avail; you simply disappeared into the crowd of the street without so much as a glance back.

When he was sure you were gone for good, all he could do was look down at his clenched fist. All he could do was look at the milk jug it held, and think about what just happened, how comical it was.

He'd only just stepped out of the FamilyMart, been on the street for all of two seconds before he heard the call of his name--his son's name--for the first time in three years.

***

plz follow for more! hopefully i can post the rest soon :)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fanfic #my writing #writing #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader

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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months

Text

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 19

Linda looks so good in this sort of not-quite-right preppy style. I think it fits who she was as a person in this time so well, and that’s one of the things I love about Linda is that she just dresses up as herself. You know? Like she wears things that are true to her and she doesn’t care if that means a mini-skirt in January or hairy pits on stage. And that confidence and introspection and happiness is so, so attractive.

And that is why they love him. (you know, besides the fact that he’s a piano prodigy or whatever) So secure. BDE off the charts.

Linda talking photography with whoever that other photographer guy is.

George: what could it be, Paul? John: jumps to answer for Paul like it's 1964 and they're at a press conference.

What do we think? John cut himself shaving? Or is it a hickey?

It ends up that John’s meeting must’ve fallen through at 1:30, so Paul is the only one gone. And it seems to me that John purposely plans this time when Paul’s gone to talk to George and Ringo about Klein. George: er, what did you want to talk about? John: er, well, just that I saw Klein, you know. . . . but I want to tell you all at once, you know, so it’s not . . . Sure, John. Cut to 1971 John talking about “doing a job” and “maneuvering” to get those two on the Klein boat. smh. sad.

But, really, for a guy who admits to having been a manipulator since primary school, he’s so easily manipulated. John. A man who you just met cannot know you as well as a man you’ve known since you were seventeen. No matter how he flattered you, it’s just not possible. The way he said it with such conviction, too! He sincerely believes this bullshit.

“Old Brown Shoe” is not my favorite lol but I’m so happy for George. To me, it sounds like it’s about leaving old roles, old patterns, old relationships, the beatles, behind in favor of something more exciting and fun. Good for him.

I know this is a “yeah, duh” comment, but Billy is such a gifted musician. Instantly catching on to the stylophone, jumping on guitar the minute George is on piano. So impressive.

Ugh, the tone of voice John takes with George. They’re all messing around, as they constantly do, including George, when John decides it’s time to focus. He says, “George, come on,” in literally the most condescending voice. As if George has been the only one derailing everything out of his own immaturity and John’s finally losing his patience. I can’t. He’s not fourteen, anymore, John.

One more quick Linda appreciation because she's so cool and so pretty and I love her so much.

I wonder if they actually did have a “tune up” as George Martin put it, after teasing him that they wouldn’t. It just cuts off from John being like “remember Bob Wooler” to them doing a take of “Don’t Let Me Down.”

John singing “I need you” at Paul (who is very passionately shaking that maraca). Not I want you. I need you. And making These Faces as he plays the guitar. Like, to be clear, those are not singing faces. He's not singing while he's doing that. He's just doing that. He looks so horny and in so much pain. Bro. How do you do that with God and everyone watching?

At which point, Paul decides he needs to get completely out-of-it stoned, and the most unwatchable one minute and seven seconds in all of Get Back occurs. “Grease Paint” my beloathed.

Oh, okay, George just constantly cleans his guitars. I think I remember reading an old beatlemania era article that said while John and Paul treat their guitars as tools, George loves and cares for his.

And then we pan out as John says, “Allen Klein’s here,” and sings, “I want you so bad” in the same breath. What are our thoughts? Does John sincerely think he’s helping everyone by getting Klein? Or is it more selfish?

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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rageprufrock · 7 months

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hello, I hope you're doing well. I was wondering if you could answer a career-related question of mine. I'm a young woman (21) in an extremely male-dominated field. I want to go into project management, but I am not prepared to deal with the insane male egos/fragile masculinity I had to experience during my internships. it doesn't help that I've been a passive person my whole life. how do I overcome my passiveness? how do I even begin to learn leadership and project/people management? 1/

I'm going to be honest, you're catching me at a disadvantage because I'm allergic to project management. Like if I'm sharing an area code with that shit I'm itchy. I'm joking, a little, sort of, because the unfortunate truth is about 50% of my job on any given day at this point is project managements but I still hate it. The point is, I'm not your best point of contact for it, because while I can do it for my specific area of expertise, the practice by itself is not my ministry, if you get my drift. Project managers are lunatics who you will find snorting crushed up Excel spreadsheets in truck stop bathrooms, and for that I fear and respect them.

For the passivity, maybe have some thoughts that might be helpful.

So like, you're probably not going to like hearing this: but oh my God, you're--so young. Like I refer to someone on my team who is 30 this year as the resident fetus. You have nine years before you hit fetus status. So much of you're feeling is only going to be remedied with time and experience, and your fearfulness of speaking or standing out right now in a professional environment isn't a mark of failure in yourself, it's a natural part of your growth and progression.

It is absolutely normal and completely fine that when you were in an intern (or honestly, even early career!) situation, presumably surrounded by people who were more experienced than you and have significant seniority to you, you felt were feeling at sea with the egos and politics.

Here's a dirty little secret, especially re: internships:

Many interns get brought in on projects that are far, far, far beyond their actual scope of capability.

That is because we have no actual expectation that you will deliver any work or usable outputs on it, but we want interns to get excited about what we do, to feel like their work could be important, for them to get a taste of the what it will be like when you actually get your feet wet and have more professional seasoning.

For example, people who summer at law firms get a red carpet experience rolled out to them, and they get to sit in on really exciting high profile client meetings! These are not things that will happen for them again for a long, long, long fucking time once they become associates! Once they've got you in their claws, they no longer care about giving you enjoyable stimulus, now you gotta start billing.

In organizations I've worked at in the past, I was fully happy to welcome interns with like 4 minutes of "experience" into very sensitive high level meetings--with the understanding that (a) everybody there knew they were the intern (b) the objective was to show them what the work could be like and (c) that nobody would actually ask them to throw themselves into the demented fray of the actual work.

The goal isn't to scare you off. We know that the stuff you're seeing a lot of times as an intern is really terrifying, for a lot of reasons. If you're in a room of people with 10 or 20 years of experience on you, then...yeah, it's going to feel awkward. You're not even a full time employee! Of course it's going to be weird and nervewracking! If you didn't feel weird and nervewracked about it, I would ask you to bottle whatever it is you're taking and sell it to become a billionaire.

Beyond that, the rest of it will come with time--truly.

When I think back to the person I was at 21, at 22, I feel such a strange tenderness toward her. I feel so protective. She had no idea what she was doing, and she was doing her best to do her best every day. She failed a lot. She was a mess. The people around her knew it. She knew it. She wasn't the greatest at what she did, or a very good friend, but she was trying so desperately to keep her head above water and only sometimes succeeding.

So much of the vulnerability you're feeling will be remedied in tiny, unnoticed ways. With every day and week and hour, you'll gain some new insight or capability, and some afternoon or month far from today--but closer than you think--you're going to look back and realize you've built yourself an entire suit of professional armor, and have no idea where it came from. You feel passive and ill equipped right now--but that's only because you are ill equipped right now, you just tumbled out onto this strange new world.

It's going to take a while to get your sea legs--just try to be kind to yourself as you do it.

You're going to crush it. I just know it.

#professional advice #advice

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justagalwhowrites · 10 months

Note

Prompt 91 babyyyyy

OMG Hi Bestie

Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.

This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!

Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!

Pick Me

You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.

Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)

Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.8K

“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.”

“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.”

You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink.

This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault.

But it also had Joel.

The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.

“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute.

“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.”

“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.”

“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back.

“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.

“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.”

He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink.

“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.”

“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.”

“I was never that cool,” he replied.

“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.”

He laughed at that. You handed him the flask.

Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead.

The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them.

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?”

“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…”

“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile.

“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.”

Joel paused before looking down at you.

“The version who stayed?” He asked.

You sighed.

“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…”

“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment.

“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.

He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away.

“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you.

“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.”

“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?”

“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.”

He snorted.

“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said.

“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.”

“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.”

“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?”

He laughed a little and then sighed.

“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…”

“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied.

“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.”

“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.”

“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.”

“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased.

You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years.

“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?”

“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.”

“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.”

“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.”

“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little.

“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again.

He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.

“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?”

“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?”

“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little.

“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…”

“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off.

“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach.

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…”

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…”

“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?”

“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off.

“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town.

“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.”

“Joel,” you breathed.

“Don’t go on that date.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…”

And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away.

“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #follower celebration

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blossomwritesthings · 9 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: idol!minho/idol!felix. introvert minho & extrovert felix. literally grumpy and sunshine troupe. hurt/comfort. angst!! fluff. pining galore. slightly suggestive at some points. minho pov. confession au! minho is soo fucking whipped for felix it's hilarious sksk-

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. the angst is FELT in this one. hurt feelings and misunderstandings abound. minho is soo fucking whipped for felix it's hilarious sksk-

word count: 3.5k

summary: although they were complete opposites, minho and felix got along perfectly - fit together like the two halves of a silvery moon. at least, that's what minho had initially thought for years, until felix suddenly starts outright avoiding him.

a/n: this one's on the pure, angsty side of things ya'll. a little bit suggestive, but nothing too spicy. 🫣 I'm srsly abt to kms over this entire thing, I'm literally losing my fucking MIND over how good this shit is??? 😭😫 also, their perf at lola?? yeah, it's gonna take me at LEAST 30 full business days to get over that shit. 😃👍🏼 ANYWAYS .... if ya'll are looking for more minlix content from me, check out the series on ao3 that this oneshot is apart of... it's pretty much nsfw for now, but I plan to write more angsty/fluffy stuff for it in the future as well!! 🤡

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛ��s (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

It was a universally known fact that Lee Minho was a total and complete introvert.

A textbook one, to be honest.

Hating big crowds, quiet in group settings. You know, the usual traits for an introvert.

And everyone around him seemed to know this fact. They all acknowledged it and respected his boundaries. The boys always took into account his needs and his limits and never pushed him to the brink.

Even if the teasing could sometimes get a bit out of hand.

At least, everyone except Lee Felix knew about Minho's introverted ways.

Or perhaps, the younger male realized it but just failed to take into account the way he should treat Minho differently from the rest.

So instead of avoiding inviting Minho out to big parties, Felix was always the first to ask him to join.

And how could Minho ever possibly say no to him... to that face?

With that cute, little pouty mouth and those constellations of freckles and those starry eyes?

Usually, Minho almost always gave in to Felix's requests.

He was under no obligation to do so, though. They were only bandmates. Only best friends.

Nothing else.

But sometimes, when he was persuaded to go out on the town with Felix, that small voice in the back of his head would make its appearance. Telling Minho that he should just confess his feelings. That he should just admit to what he was thinking about Felix.

Yeah, he only thought about such things sometimes...

The dark, twisted musings he often had of the younger, turquoise-blue-haired male definitely didn't bubble up into his head regularly.

No, definitely not...

Nevertheless, Felix seemed to continually live in ignorant bliss about Minho's introverted ways. Almost like, his life was so bright and full of sunshine, that he couldn't see anything past his extroverted way of thinking.

This became apparent by how fucking talkative he was.

Especially at the end of the day, when their schedules were done and they had arrived home at the dorm.

Felix always seemed to trap Minho when Seungmin and Jeongin were away, either busy getting ready for bed or watching a tv show in their respective bedrooms.

Like a spider catching a wee fly in its web, Felix would corner Minho throughout their shared dorm - whether it was in the kitchen, living room, or bathroom.

The conversations were always pretty mindless, with him usually rambling off about the day's activities. And almost all of the time, Minho just listened.

Never interrupting, never stopping him.

Sure, he was really fucking tired from the workday.

And sure, he kind of wanted to unwind in his own space... get lost in his head, and stay in the silence that he loved so much.

But he also kind of loved the conversations.

Albeit, they were quite one-sided, although Felix didn't seem to mind one bit.

To be honest, he didn't even seem to notice Minho's quietness most of the time.

He'd just follow Minho around the house, chatting up a storm, gesturing with his tiny hands elatedly.

And the older male would just nod fondly and hum when he deemed it necessary.

So just like that, they fell into a routine.

A unique rhythm.

Where Felix was allowed to prattle on for hours at the end of the way, and Minho got accustomed to de-stressing with the sound of his voice in the background.

Just the sound of his deep, rumbly voice after a long day, stretching on and on, seemed to do something intoxicating to Minho's brain.

Caused an infection to spread like wildfire.

And soon enough, he found it hard to fall asleep late at night if he didn't get a chance to hear how Felix's day had gone.

It was relaxing, to hear him chat about everything. It lulled Minho into a dream-like state, softening his harder edges and making his muscles sink into a sleepy pile of limbs.

That's how the two of them ended up in the dorm's kitchen late one night, with Minho calmly cooking up a shrimp pasta dish for dinner while Felix sat on a nearby barstool, talking about his day.

"Minji said that I should try like, a neon purple colour for our next comeback..." He trailed off, the sound of Minho chopping up an onion overtaking the lull of stillness between them. "What do you think, Hyung? I don't know if I would-"

Minho stopped chopping then, staring up at him with a faint smile, "Lix, you look amazing in any colour. Don't stress about it, yeah?" And he watched, as the happiness brightened up Felix's entire face in the form of a huge grin. Minho's heart beat wildly against his ribcage just at the sight of it, thumping painfully loud in his ears and drowning out all other sounds.

"Thanks, Hyung. I can always count on you to give it to me straight..." Then he kept talking, and all the while the older male continued to prepare dinner for them.

He was used to the routine.

He liked the routine the two of them had.

Loved the habits they were forming together late into the night.

So then, months later, upon the sudden stark change in Felix's demeanor, it was like Minho's entire world shifted on its axis.

No longer would the younger boy come home and seek him out immediately.

Instead, Minho would oftentimes find him holed up in his room, playing video games on his computer or watching TikToks snuggled up in his bed.

No longer did Felix lean against the kitchen counter and tell him all about his feelings on their newest activities while Minho cooked dinner for everyone.

Instead, Minho would catch a glimpse of him hunched over at the kitchen table, nose buried in a book as he quickly scarfed up a plain bowl of rice and a fried egg.

No longer did the blue-haired man sit next to Minho on the living room couch late into the night, mindlessly commenting on the characters in the drama that they were watching together.

Instead, Minho would notice him curled up in the corner of the living room's armchair, laptop on the coffee table as he engrossed himself in the newest American action movie.

And it really fucking hurt.

To fall out of such a routine.

To realize how much he relied on it all.

How much he relied on Felix.

To miss it so much, that he could feel his heart squeezing painfully each second Felix spent his nights away from him.

Almost like, he was avoiding Minho altogether.

Minho would lie awake in bed late at night, just staring mindlessly up at the ceiling. His mind and heart racing in tandem as he tried to recall the moment when things had gone amiss.

Did he say something?

Did he do something wrong?

He knew that Felix was a sensitive soul, which was why he always treated him delicately.

He treated him differently than he did the other members.

And every night, he could never come up with a solid conclusion as to why things had gone south.

When finally, things came to a head.

It was after a painfully grueling night in the practice room that Minho came home to a dark, hushed dorm. He was exhausted - both mentally and physically.

All he wanted at that moment was to lay his eyes on him - to hear his voice, soothing all of his worries from the day away. Like dark chocolate melting in a warm saucepan.

The others were still out, finishing up their schedules for the night. And the dorm felt barren and void of all life.

Except, as Minho stepped out of the entryway, he noticed the single overhead light of the stovetop flicked on. There was Felix, perched atop the granite countertop, a white porcelain bowl in his hand.

He didn't even notice that the older male was home. He was so focused on eating his cereal that he failed to hear the sound of Minho's gym bag plopping down on the marble floor.

Just like that, Minho's weak heart finally came to a standstill. Breaking irrevocably.

The shards that he was left with stirred around inside of his chest painfully, seeming to stab his lungs as he slowly approached the kitchen.

It hurt to breathe.

Hurt to walk.

Even still, he managed to push through the agony of it all.

It was only then that Felix looked up and caught sight of him. He offered him a fleeting smile, "Oh- hi, Hyung. I didn't see you there." He said, just as he shoveled in another spoonful of cereal, swinging his legs back and forth in the air nonchalantly.

Minho remained silent for one beat,

Two beats,

Three beats.

Destroyed heart clambering in his chest, exhaustion overtaking his entire mind, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Why don't you do it anymore?"

The words came out soft and wobbly, barely above a whisper. Minho was speaking like someone else was in the room - like the others were lingering around.

But it was just them.

With Felix sitting atop the kitchen countertop and Minho but a few steps away, at a standstill, spine completely frozen.

"W-What?" Felix asked, dark brows furrowing in confusion. He had no idea what Minho was talking about.

Of course, he wouldn't.

It's not like they talked about it.

Hell- they barely even talked at all. Hadn't in what felt like fucking months.

"You barely even give me the time of day anymore," Minho started, voice a little shaky as his hands trembled at his sides. He had to force his fists into balls, to stop them from quivering so badly. "Barely say ten words to me all day." He didn't want to say it. Didn't want to point out the elephant in the fucking room. But it was too obvious to avoid anymore. Too painful to brush under the rug. "What happened, Lix? What happened to all of those nights when we'd talk and have fun together?"

"You mean when I'd talk."

His words cut through Minho like a knife. The pointed edge of them icy against his flesh, tearing him up in a cruel kind of way.

"No, I mean-"

Felix took in a deep sigh, before placing his bowl of cereal down on the countertop next to him. He sat back a little bit so that he could get a clear view of the crimson-haired man. He leveled the elder with a serious face, brows still furrowed and that pretty pink mouth pressed into a firm line. "I was always the one talking, Minho. You barely said two words most of the time."

The use of his name caused the hurt to swish in Minho's stomach, forcing him to feel miserably queasy at that moment. Because Felix never called him that.

"I don't know what-" He began, but was cut off by Felix holding a small hand up in the air.

His eyes, which were locked with Minho's, said it all.

He was already done with the conversation. He had said all that he wanted to.

There was just... nothing there anymore.

"It's fine, Hyung. Really. You don't have to apologize or anything. I get it." He said, voice dull and lifeless.

Where was the Lee Felix that Minho had grown to love?

Where was the bright ball of sunshine that he had matured right alongside with?

Where was he?

Because this Felix- the one with a cool gaze and a deep-set frown, was not his Felix.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Minho said, tone faint and wavering. He was nearing Felix then, watching as the younger halted in his place. Spine going rigid, he sat up a little straighter.

And then Minho was just before him, placing his arms on either side of Felix's hips, palms pressing into the chilly marbled countertop. Caging the younger man in, and staring down at him with a wildly-beating destroyed heart and a huge lump forming in his throat.

Felix turned his head up, catching his gaze with wide eyes. The cotton-candy pink of a flush was already traveling up the milky skin of his neck, pooling into his cheeks and casting a bright red galaxy against his freckles. Already, he was getting flustered from their proximity.

"Do you even realize how it is for me?" The words were slipping free from Minho's mouth in the next beat. He felt Felix's warm breath fan against his face from how close they were. "I can't fucking breathe for even a second if you're not around. I can't think, I can't speak, I can't function properly." Just as Felix's mouth was opening to cut in, Minho continued his spiel. "If I don't see you- lay my eyes on this fragile little body or this pretty little face, I fucking fall apart. If I don't hear your voice, I can't sleep all night."

Minho was moving after that, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was leaning further into Felix, hand coming up to his face and fingers tracing against the line of his jaw. Gently, he cupped his chin, the pad of his thumb brushing against his puffy pink bottom lip.

Their gazes caught just then, and Minho could sense the feelings raging just beneath the surface of Felix. And Minho thought that he also probably looked quite similar in the younger's eyes.

"So you can hate me and you can loathe me and you can despise me," Minho began in a breathless whisper, "But don't ever avoid me again. Otherwise, I'll suffocate and die a slow and painful death."

He couldn't seem to pull his hand away from the younger's face, even when it grew so hot to the touch, it felt like his palm was about to burn up in a scorch of hot flames. Even when a slight, painful squeak fled from between Felix's lips.

Almost like, this hurt him just as much.

"I never hated you," he murmured back, tone registering low. The sound of it rumbled out, cascading across the shell of Minho's ears and shooting a violent shiver down the length of his spine. "I could never- not when I fucking love you so much. And I... I was avoiding you because I was scared. Scared of what you thought of me- and my loose mouth."

Minho kept silent, thumb continuing to press against his lip, soothing Felix as the feelings and thoughts started to spill out of him like a magical elixir trickling out of a stunning glass tincture.

"Someone told me about you- about your true personality, and how you're reclusive and stuff. And I- I got scared, that you hated all of our late nights together and you hated how much I talked. And then I noticed how quiet you always were and I thought that maybe it was better if I just stayed away and let you have your space after work. I didn't want to burden you anymore and-"

"Kitten, you're never a burden to me," Minho cut in, hand finally pulling away from Felix's lips and trailing towards his hair. He pushed some of the shock-blue locks behind his delicate ear, and something tiny and fiery stirred in the pit of his stomach at the mewl that he heard Felix creak out from the nickname alone. "Just because I'm so different from you, doesn't mean I don't enjoy your company. And just because I don't talk all the time, doesn't mean I hate you for talking to me after work."

At that, Felix stared up at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "Y-You enjoy my company?" His voice trailed off into the distance softly, his eyes fluttering closed at the way Minho's fingers raked across his scalp.

Slowly, he pulled at his blue roots, forcing Felix's eyes open again so that Minho could see the look in them as he finally spoke the words he had been stirring over for what felt like a fucking millennium.

"I adore it, Lix. I can't live without it, to be honest," he confessed, flashing the younger a meek smile. And at that moment, Felix looked so perfect. So vulnerable and adorable all at the same time. "Fuck- I need to kiss you right now. Can I? Please..."

Felix gaped up at him, the overhead kitchen light sparkling in his eyes like a million different constellations all at once. Like he was in complete awe of the situation at hand, and he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that everything was happening to him just then.

"Yes- yes, a thousand times yes." He cried desperately in that cute, small voice of his.

And then nothing else mattered, as Minho held onto his jaw, tilting Felix's head upwards as he connected their lips. Like they were meant to never separate, they fit each other perfectly.

In an instant, Felix was melting into the feel of Minho's mouth wrapped around his. His hands came up around the elder's waist, digging into the fabric of his t-shirt and drawing him ever closer. Minho's tongue dragged across his bottom lip, and soon, teeth were bumping against teeth as they tasted one another. Felix groaned, fingers clutching on tight to Minho as he teased him with his kisses right there in the middle of the kitchen.

The kiss was ethereal and perfect and everything Minho had always dreamed of.

And when they broke apart to catch their breaths, a messy string of saliva connecting them, Felix stared up at him with vast eyes and flushed cheeks, and a faint smile.

"Has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful you are, kitten?" Minho mused off, fingertips ghosting across his smattering of freckles.

The cerulean-haired male giggled softly, hands bunching up the fabric of Minho's shirt and dragging him closer so that he could wrap his legs around his waist. "Yeah, but you've never done it before."

"Well, now I'm saying it," Minho began, lips ghosting over his nose as he kissed it. "Pretty," he continued on his path, kissing either of his rosy cheeks. "Gorgeous," his mouth trailed up to his forehead, brushing the locks of blue there aside. "Stunning."

Then he stopped just at Felix's mouth again, hovering, breathing warmth against his lips.

"W-Will you c-call me that again?" Felix suddenly blurted out quietly, the words tumbling from him at a rushed pace. The way he stuttered nervously, like a young schoolboy confessing to his crush, did something funny to Minho's heart. Brought the shattered pieces back together, in a jumbled mess.

Minho could already feel the smirk spreading across his face, as he pondered over the idea. "Hmm..." He tapped a finger against his chin, to seem like he was mulling it over. When in reality, he'd give the entire world for Felix if he asked for it. He'd lasso the moon down from the night sky and gift it to the younger male if he wanted it badly enough. "Only if you're a good boy for me." His eyes flicked towards Felix's, catching the way the furious bloom of crimson erupted across his face and flooded into the tips of his ears. "You think you can do that for me? Be a good boy for Hyung?"

His head of blue hair was already moving up and down, as he nodded furiously. Teeth peeking out in a cheeky grin, he spoke in a fleeting voice. "Yes, I can be really fucking good... but only for you, Min."

That automatically made Minho's heart melt, dripping like cool water in his entire chest. The love he held for the younger male coursed through his veins then, lighting up his nervous system and making him see in full colour as he tilted into Felix.

Mouth pressing against the pulse point of the column of his neck, Minho shuttered out in a deep whisper. "Such a pretty kitten..." His lips attached to the warm flesh there, teeth sucking faintly and leaving a light violet bruise in the wake of his attention. He continued making his way down Felix's neck, loving the way the younger's fingers automatically carded through his locks, pushing him closer to his skin. "And all mine, too."

Felix squirmed against him then, moaning faintly at Minho's words. They were both suggestive and true to what he honestly felt for Felix.

And in that moment, other, dark thoughts flashed across the forefront of his mind too.

Visions of his sweet angel Felix, wriggling underneath him.

Fragile, petite limbs tangled up in bedsheets,

Skin flushed that pretty pink shade that always drove Minho so wild.

That delicate, small mouth of his, opened up in a filthy way, as the ecstasy fell from his lips in garbled sounds.

Minho knew that all of his deepest, darkest fantasies would one day come true. Would one day take place in the future.

And all because Felix had dared to talk to him late at night after their schedules.

Fin.

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chronicallyuniconic · 4 months

Text

Barriers I face for appointments

Great, you spent years fighting for your appointments, now you got them. Except the hospital you have to go to is 20 miles away, a 1hr 45 minute train and bus journey, a 25 minute car ride.

Twenty miles really isn't that far. 1hr 45 minutes travel time isn't that bad for the journey. A 25 minute drive is pretty easygoing. For someone who isn't ill that is.

I'm not allowed to drive for a start, it is illegal because of seizures, I had to return my license and until I'm seizure free for at least 12 months, maybe then I can have it back.

Someone like me, cannot manage 1hr 45 minutes on a train and a bus. Sitting up for 30 minutes, is too much for me. Like my body, is physically not capable of sitting up like that. You're generally not allowed to lie down on the floor of a moving bus or train.

Walking between the stops, to catch my next leg of the journey, is not possible. It will take me 3 times longer than an abled person. I will have to stop, every few steps. I will be in pain & out of breath, exhausted. My legs will end up turning into jelly, will bend like rubber and completely collapse underneath me.

You know that big step up there always is, between the train platform, the gap and the train? Yeah I can't do that anymore. It's too high. You think they roll out the ramp for little me? Ha!

So say I walked all that way, I caught the bus somehow, I walked again and I managed to somehow get on the train. I get off at my destination and I have to walk again, for '16 minutes.' times that by 2 or 3 and we're looking at 30 to 50 minutes.

I'm at the hospital. I'm in tears. I'm on the verge of passing out. My body is d o n e. [I could collapse in a heap and they will just say I'm dehydrated]

I go through the appointment as arranged. (Hooray?) I spent all this time waiting and finally it's happened. I hope it reveals answers this time. I hope it provides some insight into my physical and mental states. I feel hope.

But now I have to get home..

[you bet your a$$ I'm getting a taxi/lift and will be lay strapped across the backseats like a creepy little car goblin, another costly expense (£65 return journey compared to £12 public transport), a kind of disability tax, for being f***ing ILL]

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runawaymun · 8 days

Note

if nobody's been here yet I'm gonna be very cringe and on brand and ask about the Partake Prequel

also Rivendell's Tiny Tearaway sounds DELIGHTFUL

Ahhhh thank you!

Ask me about my not-yet-written-fics from this list

The Partake Prequel

(also if you wanted to know more about Rivendell's tiny tearaway just lmk I can make another post for that haha. But I am glad it sounds good!!!)

(cw: discussions of pretty abusive dynamics and questionable consent, also discussion of sex)

so this only exists in my head because a) I'm morbidly curious and have a fascination with the psychology of messed up relationships and b) I am a masochist.

I am just constantly thinking about how the fuck We Got Here when it comes to To Partake. Like how do things get to a point where it's this fucked up and messy and tangly and Bad?

and of course there are bits and snatches that are mixed in to Partake -- like little glimpses into the backstory of Elrond and Gil's situationship, but I want to know more specifically how we got to where we are now.

We know that Elrond started pining after Gil sometime in the late first age when he was roughly in between the age of fifty and seventy. Which...for a Peredhel is a perfectly acceptable age to be sexual (Elwing and Dior had kids and were married by 30). But from an Elvish perspective (i,e. Gil's) that's a baby.

Literally he does not think about anyone else. This is a somewhat unhealthy obsession already. There's a fealty-kink wrapped up in here somehow that's all messily combined with the fact that Gil is currently the only adult who is really present in Elrond's life (if we're going with ROP's timeline Galadriel seems to fuck off to hunt Sauron shortly after Morgoth's imprisonment in the void, and you know...Earendil is busy Earendiling)

So to start I don't think Gil even really saw anything with Elrond as being on the table until sometime in the very early second age, after he appoints Elrond as herald. It's unclear when this happened -- I couldn't find a date for it. But I presume it to be sometime after Lindon is founded and Mithlond constructed and certainly after Elros sailed for Numenor (Elrond would have been emotionally vulnerable and attached to Gil-Galad even more -- and in my head Elros would not have approved of anything going on between Elrond and Gil-Galad so that's very off limits until he's gone)

But--- with Elros gone indefinitely, yeah Elrond gets more attached to Gil.

They're still not sexual yet though.

Elrond is taking regular trips to Numenor etc.

So I generally imagine that things really Began between the two of them sometime shortly after SA 432, when Elrond is around 500 years old. He's "mature" at this point in Elvish terms, and Elros has just died -- so, unhinged and probably at one of his lowest points.

SEX CW: I have a VERY firm idea in my head which I was planning to make a oneshot of. But Elrond at this point does get Very Horny about Gil and starts masturbating about it sometime around here. Gil catches him and that's how....uhhhh things start.

Because OBVIOUSLY (Gil brain here) he is into Gil and THEREFORE this is a PERFECTLY NORMAL and FINE thing to do!

Plus he is OF. AGE.

Nevermind the fact that Elrond is incredibly unstable and vulnerable and depressed & still extremely young, completely inexperienced, and there's some really fucky power dynamics -- all of which affect his ability to consent properly to ANYTHING.

So that's how it starts. They just start having sex. I think nobody really knows about it at this point.

(we start with mostly just Gil on the receiving end of some oral sex that Elrond is getting rapidly better at)

Gil's the one to broach anything more than that and Elrond is down for anything as long as Gil is happy.

rumors do start circulating at this point but absolutely nobody is keen to confront them about it.

I feel like there's potential here for Galadriel to catch wind of things, directly ask, and for Elrond to deny absolutely everything.

If she asked Gil there's no way that he'd admit that anything is going on either because she makes him fear for his life haha.

Elrond has been actively suppressing links to Melian at this point because it freaks out most Elves -- and because Gil doesn't like it.

At some point Gil broaches-- and by broaches what I really mean here is tries (he doesn't ASK!!) an osanwe link. Likely either during or just after sex.

Elrond does not know any better and his brain is full of dopamine and he thinks this is AWESOME. The king wants to be EVEN MORE INTIMATE

boom osanwe link. Far more of an osanwe link than they ever should have had.

boom immediate dissonance which is painful for Gil and so he assumes it is painful for Elrond

Elrond has not had enough osanwe experience to know this is pretty insular to the specific way his and Gil's Themes don't mesh.

"Let me fix it ok?" "Oh god please fix it"

Also there's the undertone here of Gil doesn't like it and Elrond feeling the need to manage his emotions and divest himself of anything displeasing even if that's his fucking Theme.

Hence the theme fuckery begins.

And things really really really start to devolve with their relationship.

Like I imagine in the beginning Gil was pretty cautious and careful -- not in a lovey dovey way but he's not wholly inconsiderate and it's within his Partake characterization that he doesn't like to hurt his partner unless it's in a fun kinky way. He also does not get off on someone being scared. That's an ick for him. So initially he would be careful.

But Elrond starts getting really good at masking things and figuring out that Gil likes to be rough.

And of course, anything for Gil.

Do you see where we're going.

Well and it's compounded by the fact that Elrond does actually like it, too. It just scares him. So he as a lot of really confusing feelings going on that he doesn't know how to handle and there's also a lot of shame wrapped up in it too

And obviously Gil is not um. Guiding him through this in the way that a more experienced partner who is sometimes building scenes and domming should.

And again -- there's that messy thing of "I need to please you in absolutely every way possible and also clearly my differences are Bad, and therefore I must mask all of them as best I can and keep up with my work demands because being useful is better than being loved."

(Which is a lesson he learned from literally everyone, even Elros in the end. It is not a lesson that Elros meant to teach him. But Elros loved him. And then he left.)

Anyway that's as far as I've gotten. The beginning is much more specific and it gets more nebulous as we get closer to the Partake timeline, but it's very easy for me to see the trajectory of their relationship, and that's really what I want to explore.

OHHHH also the undertone of codependency because Elrond and Gil are both fundamentally isolated and find solace in each other. And Gil isolates Elrond further to ensure that He Will Not Be Left. Because Gil is afraid of being inadequate and has literally no one else except like, Cirdan, who cares for him so deeply. (I mean, he would. If he wasn't an asshole. But you get where I am going with this.)

Yeah. Sorry.

There is no happy ending to this fic it is just a dissection of how we get from point A to point B. The happy ending would be Partake alkdhg.

#finally actually have time to respond to this today #to partake #partake prequel fic #cw abuse mention #cw sex mention #Gil is a very bad partner #and by that I mean he strategically isolates people because he is fundamentally afraid of being left alone #and Elrond is uniquely vulnerable to being isolated #because he also has the same fundamental fear #Gil responds to that fear by needing to control everything around him #and Elrond responds to that fear by making himself into an exact mirror image of whomever he is trying to form an attachment with #this is a horrible combination

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

The Benjamin Effect - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!OC (Kate Benjamin-Mitchell)

Length: 3.2k

Warnings: (Childhood) Enemies to Lovers; Mentions of Goose and Carole; Angst; Feelings of Abandonment; Tension; Strained Relationships; Daddy Issues; Questionable Decisions; Age-Gap (about eight years), but Everyone is Very Much Adult; Female OC with Physical Description

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: With Maverick and Penny's wedding drawing closer, Rooster is called upon to convince Maverick and Penny's first daughter, Kate, to come around to the idea. Of course, Rooster and Kate have their own history to work through and Kate is definitely not going to make it easy for him.

Note: Amelia is Maverick's biological daughter in this too. Kate is about eight years younger than Rooster, but is very much an adult. She's in her late 20s and Rooster is in his mid/late 30s.

Part 2

Master List

Rooster should have known that Maverick had an ulterior motive for taking him out to dinner.

If Maverick wanted to just hang out and catch up without any additional bullshit, he would have simply set up the grill and they would have shared a few beers outside on the back porch. But buying him dinner at a restaurant was a move that Maverick played when Bradley was young and easily swayed by the promise of French fries and ice cream sundaes. And, apparently, now too.

“You want me to do what?” Rooster asked his godfather, staring over at Maverick incredulously.

“I need your help in getting Kate to talk to me again,” Maverick explained casually.

“Kate? Your daughter Kate?”

Kate, who went by Katie as a kid, was Maverick and Penny’s daughter from one of their previous will-they-won’t-they situations. She was a surprise addition to the family and a near-death sentence for Maverick when Admiral Benjamin, Penny’s dad, found out about her. But by the time that Kate was born, Penny and Maverick were both completely dedicated to co-parenting.

So, why did Maverick need his help with getting Kate to talk to him again? And why did Maverick think that Bradley of all people would be a good candidate for that job?

Bradley and Kate were never close.

There was several years difference between them—probably eight or so, if Bradley did the math right. And Bradley thought that she was a whiny brat whenever their paths crossed as kids. She was always upset whenever Maverick and Bradley did something together without her and she complained until she got her way, which Maverick always gave her in the end.

The last time that Bradley saw Kate, it was at his mom’s funeral. And he hadn’t heard from her since the paper pulling incident. That was eighteen, nearly nineteen, years ago now. For fuck’s sake, he just found out that she went by Kate now instead of Katie.

“Yeah, you remember her, right?” Maverick asked, folding his arms underneath him.

“I mean, yeah, but why do you need my help?” Rooster inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“She doesn’t . . .” Maverick started to explain but then he trailed off. Maverick sighed, rubbing his face tiredly, before turning back to Rooster. “I wasn’t the best dad for her. I wasn’t around and I didn’t make the right efforts when I needed to because I got caught up in my own demons and fears. And she—and I understand why—hasn’t forgiven me for any of it.”

“I’m still missing the part where I fit into this whole scheme,” Rooster replied honestly.

“I’m hoping that since the two of us started to reconcile and address what happened in the past with our relationship, that you could help me do the same with Kate. To at least help me show her that I’ve changed and I’m taking my personal relationships seriously.”

“So, you want me to help you steal an F-14 to patch things up with your daughter?” Rooster asked sarcastically, earning a sigh from Maverick.

“No, I just . . . maybe just talk with her about what we worked through. I’m prepared to do all of the talking and amending on my own, but I need help convincing her to talk to me in the first place,” Maverick explained softly to Rooster. “She just shuts down every time that I try to make amends or bring up the past.”

“So, that’s why you took me out here?” Rooster asked, glancing down at his plate. “To try and bribe me to help your daughter talk to you again?”

“You love the French fries here,” Maverick pointed out, earning an incredulous look from Rooster.

“I did when I was nine,” Rooster corrected Maverick.

“Bradley,” Maverick stated, trying to get the conversation back on track, “will you help me? Or at least just try? If she doesn’t come around to you, then she doesn’t come around to you, and that’s fine. I just . . . I want to try to make things right with her. Before Penny and I get married.”

Rooster could hear the sincerity dripping from every word that Maverick spoke. And he recognized the borderline desperation in Maverick’s eyes. And as Maverick’s best man, this seemed to fit into his promise to help Maverick with wedding preparations.

And maybe Rooster did really like the fries here and the special sauce that they always came with.

“I feel like I’m going to regret this,” Rooster groaned, lowering his head for a moment. “But, sure. I’ll try and help you. I’ll be your wingman with this.”

“Thank you, Bradley,” Maverick stated sincerely, smiling softly. “It means the world to me, really. And Penny too.”

“Can it count as your wedding present then?”

~~~~~

Kate Benjamin wasn’t exactly the warmest or friendliest person by her own admission.

She took after her grandfather, retired Admiral John “Pike” Benjamin, more than her mom in that regard. Penny could talk and comfort any person off the street. And Penny gave people the benefit of the doubt, believing that people changed and second chances were only fair.

Kate did not share her mother’s forgiving disposition.

People could change. People did change. But that didn’t mean that Kate was willing to forgive, forget, and sing kumbaya with them afterwards. Second chances were earned, not given. And Pete Mitchell was on his seventh or so chance in Kate Benjamin’s book.

“I just don’t understand why he’s so suddenly interested in settling down,” Kate complained over the phone to Amelia as she sat in rush hour traffic.

“He’s retired now,” Amelia pointed out, sitting up in her bedroom.

“So, he’s bored? That’s why he wants to marry Mom?” Kate huffed, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “Bullshit, is what I say.”

“He seems really sincere this time,” Amelia replied calmly, shrugging her shoulders.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Amelia didn’t respond for a moment and Kate could hear a background conversation between Amelia and their mom. Kate waited patiently, staring at the same blue Honda that she’d been stuck behind for what felt like hours when Amelia returned to the call.

“Mom wants to know how far you are from home.”

“Around forty-five minutes. Give or take. Are Grammie and Pop there?”

“Yeah, they flew in this morning. And Maverick and Rooster are joining us for dinner.”

“Rooster?” Kate repeated, clearly confused. “Who the hell is Rooster?”

“Bradley,” Amelia translated for her sister.

“So, they’re talking again?” Kate muttered gruffly.

Kate remembered Bradley. She remembered how he called her a brat. And she remembered telling him that his name was stupid in retaliation. And Kate stood by that sentiment. ‘Bradley Bradshaw’ was one of the most ridiculous names that she had ever heard in her life. It wasn’t quite Philip Philips, but it was damn close.

“How in the hell did he get . . . never mind, because I don’t care,” Kate cut herself off.

“Mom also told me to tell you to be on your best behavior.”

“I’m always on my best behavior, Ames,” Kate insisted innocently, though her smirk betrayed her words. “Tell Mom that everything’s going to be fine.”

“I will. See you soon, Kate.”

“Bye, Ames.”

Amelia hung up the phone and Kate switched back to the radio while she inched through traffic.

So much for a quiet family dinner with her mom, sister, and grandparents after a long week of work. But she knew that she was going to have to get used to Maverick —if he wanted the title ‘Dad,’ he was going to have to earn it—and Rooster too.

~~~~~

Rooster sat in Penny’s backyard with Amelia, Grammie Joan, and Pike, which is what everyone except for his immediate family called him, while Maverick and Penny went to pick up dinner.

“You’re a Lieutenant Commander?” Pike asked Rooster, leaning back in his chair.

“Yes, sir. Got promoted after that mission with Mav.”

“A well-earned one then,” Pike mused grimly, glancing over at the Kawasaki. “Maverick told me what he could about the mission. You’re either really smart, or have a lot of dumb luck, kid.”

“Or both.”

“Or both,” Pike echoed, nodding along. “And you just transferred back to North Island then?”

“Yeah, I was stationed out at Oceana most recently, but after the mission, I thought that it was finally time to return to the West Coast, so I put in the request and it was approved. And now I’m working as an instructor out here.”

“How many years are left on your contract?”

“Two and a half,” Rooster replied, doing the math in his head.

“And do you think that you’ll stay on after that’s up?”

“Don’t know,” Rooster answered honestly. “I’ll have to see what life looks like then.”

“Smart. Focus on what’s right in front of you,” Pike agreed, nodding curtly.

“Kate’s home!” Amelia exclaimed when she spotted Kate’s car pull into the driveway.

Without another word, Amelia stood up from the table and hurried around the gate. Grammie Joan smiled when she heard the two sisters reunite from the other side of the fence and shuffled down to Rooster and Pike’s side of the table.

“Have you met our Kate?” Grammie Joan asked Rooster, sitting beside her husband.

“Back when we were both kids, but not for a long time,” Rooster answered honestly.

“She’s grown into quite the firecracker,” Pike chuckled, waiting patiently for his two granddaughters to return. “Her mother says that she takes after me. Maverick seemed to agree with Penny, though he didn’t say it to my face.”

“I think that he still gets flashbacks about the ass chewings you gave him in the eighties and nineties,” Rooster joked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Which time?” Pike asked, seemingly amused.

“Oh, be nice, John. You know that if Kate sees you giving Maverick a hard time, she’s going to give him an even worse time,” Grammie Joan replied knowingly, shooting her husband a look. “And I’m not sure that Maverick can survive the two of you at the same time.”

“Well, if he’s going to finally marry into this family, he’s going to have to learn,” Pike pointed out gruffly.

“Don’t hold onto the past, John. That flyover business was so long ago,” Joan dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It was before the girls were born. Let it go.”

“Rooster?” Pike asked, out to prove a point.

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you ever done a high-speed pass over an air traffic control tower?”

“Never as the pilot, no.”

“What about a high-speed pass over an admiral’s daughter? You’ve ever done that, Rooster?”

“No, sir.”

“See?” Pike told his wife, who shook her head at him again. “Not normal conduct.”

“Oh, get over it, John.”

The back door opened, cutting off Pike and Joan’s back and forth. Amelia trotted down the stairs first with Kate Benjamin—or Katie Mitchell, which is what she went by the last time that Bradley was around her—close behind.

But the woman that stepped out of the house was not anything like Rooster expected.

Kate seemed to be a perfect mix of her parents. Her hair was dark, like Maverick’s, but wavy, like Penny’s. Her smile was far too mischievous to come from Penny, but Kate walked with Penny’s seemingly flawless grace. And when they locked eyes, Rooster realized that Kate seemed to have inherited her mom’s captivating gaze.

He subconsciously straightened his back a bit as Kate walked past him.

Kate greeted her grandmother first with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before greeting her grandfather in the same fashion. And when she straightened up, the breeze blew the scent of her shampoo—which was something sweet and flowery—in his direction and let the subtle natural highlights in her hair to catch the sunlight.

A sharp pinch in Rooster’s side caused him to whirl around to spot an annoyed Amelia.

“Stop staring at my sister like that,” Amelia stated quietly, looking disgusted. “We eat out here.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Amelia replied, ending the argument.

“How was the drive?” Pike asked Kate, who missed all of Rooster and Amelia’s conversation.

“Not too bad. Traffic, but what else did I expect?” Kate joked, moving to take the seat across from Amelia. “How was your flight in?”

“Not too bad.”

“Maverick was a gentleman and picked us up from the airport,” Joan replied with a kind smile.

Joan was clearly trying to put in a good word for Maverick with Kate, probably under the direction of Penny. Rooster, however, didn’t miss the grimace on Kate’s face at the mention of Maverick. Joan simply smiled wider and gestured over to Rooster.

“And you remember Bradley, right, Kate?”

“Yes,” Kate replied, reluctantly turning to Bradley. “Though I hear that you go by Rooster now.”

“I do,” Rooster agreed, nodding along. “And I hear that you go by Kate now.”

“I do,” Kate returned, looking bored with him.

“You heading home to your apartment tonight?” Pike questioned his granddaughter, ending Kate and Rooster’s staring contest.

“No, I’ll stay the night. We’re supposed to do some errands tomorrow morning for the wedding.”

“Have you met any nice men recently, Kate?” Grammie Joan asked her eldest granddaughter.

Kate immediately grimaced at her grandmother’s question. Amelia snuck a giggle until Kate kicked her shin under the table.

“No, Grammie.”

“Don’t pressure her, Joan,” Pike grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Better that she’s single and working hard at a good paying job than wasting her time with some no-good dumbass freeloader.”

“Yes, but this wedding planning has me thinking about the girls’ weddings,” Joan replied wistfully.

“Here we go,” Amelia murmured under her breath.

“One wedding at a time, Grammie,” Kate reminded Joan gently. “How is the wedding planning going around here anyways?"

"It's not,” Amelia answered, sharing an amused look with Rooster. “Mom’s mostly busy with the bar and Maverick doesn’t want to make any decisions without her approval. And he’s still trying to move all of his stuff over here.”

“He’s living here now?” Kate asked, immediately on the defensive. “At the house?”

“No, he’s rooming with Rooster for now.”

“Oh.” Kate’s gaze flickered over to Rooster, causing him to subconsciously straighten up again. She seemed to study him for a moment before asking, “How’s that going then?”

“It’s going well,” Rooster replied, trying to keep Maverick in a good light.

“So, he’s living in Miramar full time then?” Kate asked, still analytical.

“Mostly. He has the hangar out in Nevada, but he’s here more.”

“Lovely,” Kate replied dryly.

“Speaking of Maverick, I believe that’s them,” Pike stated, glancing down the driveway.

Kate got up and headed inside and Amelia followed after her sister. Penny and Maverick stepped inside and Kate hurried into her mom’s waiting arms. Penny squeezed Kate to her chest while Maverick stood behind them, smiling at their interaction.

“Oh, I’m so happy that you’re back home,” Penny breathed out.

“I’m not that far away, Mom,” Kate reminded Penny softly. “But it’s nice to be home.”

“How was the drive?” Penny asked Kate, letting go of her eldest daughter.

“Not too bad.”

“Good.” Penny turned to Maverick, who was clearly waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from his daughter. “Aren’t you going to greet your dad, Kate?”

“Maverick,” Kate greeted him stiffly, unwilling to call him ‘Dad.’

“It’s good to see you, Kate,” Maverick returned quietly, clearly subdued.

“Likewise.”

“Help him with the food, please, Kate,” Penny told her eldest daughter.

Kate took one of the bags from Maverick and quickly moved to put distance between them. Penny and Maverick shared a look before following Kate out into the backyard again. Amelia carried out some plates and utensils while Kate pulled out the takeout boxes.

“Amelia, can you grab the wooden spoons for the salad?” Penny questioned, glancing over the table.

“I’ll do it,” Rooster offered immediately, standing up. “You need anything else?”

“No, I think we’re all set. Thank you, Rooster,” Penny replied with a smile.

Rooster nodded, glanced over at Kate, before he headed inside. Maverick was in the kitchen, putting away some extra plates and pulling a few drinks out of the fridge.

“How did it go with Kate?” Rooster asked, opening drawers to look for wooden spoons. Maverick sighed, causing Rooster to pick his head up. “That bad, huh?”

“Could have been better,” Maverick sighed, grabbing some beers from the fridge. “But I suppose that it could have been much worse too.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Rooster glanced out the window, watching as Kate talked with her sister and her mom. Catching himself staring at her again, Rooster turned back to Maverick, who seemed to be unaware of Rooster’s sudden staring problem.

And that was good. For Rooster’s personal safety.

“Did she at least acknowledge your existence?”

“Only when prompted.” Maverick shook his head at himself. “I guess I’ll have to just keep trying to make things right with her.”

“I don’t think that she’ll make it easy for you.”

“No, she won’t. But I’m not going to let that stop me.” Maverick turned around and squeezed Rooster’s shoulder, smiling up at him. “Thanks again for trying to help me out. With making amends with her. I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course, Mav,” Rooster replied quietly.

They walked outside together to join the Benjamin family for dinner. Rooster ended up seated next to Kate somehow but they didn’t really acknowledge each other. It wasn’t until the wedding got brought up by Joan that they even looked at each other.

Well, that Kate looked over at Rooster. He still seemed to have a bit of a staring problem.

“So, you’re Maverick’s best man then, Rooster?” Joan asked kindly, causing Rooster to nod.

“Yeah, I am.”

“And Kate and Amelia are both the maid of honor?”

“Yeah, we’re sharing the position,” Kate agreed, sharing a glance with her sister.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how much I’m going to be able to do to help because of school and everything,” Amelia replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“I can handle most of it,” Kate insisted, looking down at her plate. “The only big thing that I should need your physical presence for is the maid of honor dresses.”

“Either way, it seems that the five of you will be spending a lot of time together over the next few months,” Joan stated with a kind smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Rooster spoke up, earning a sharp, curious look from Kate. “And to getting to know you guys more.”

Kate tilted her chin up a bit, challenging as she met Rooster’s gaze again. Amelia glanced between the two of them and stuck her tongue out. Penny and Maverick also shared a look, but Maverick signaled to Penny that it would be fine.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Kate replied dryly.

Part 2

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