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dfortrafalgar · 4 months

Text

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path. How many bars had you gone to again? Four? Five, maybe? Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had. It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were. Was it mango-flavored? What street were you even on now? You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement. She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight! My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed. “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish. The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk! We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku. “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought. You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added. Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations. You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one. Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance. “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system. It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink. Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting. The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps. You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric. Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled. Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review. He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum. “Enjoy the night, ladies.” His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous. The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding. Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space. It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar. Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken. Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices. A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers. You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.

“At least we can stand here! It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention. Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose. You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end. His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume. “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register. Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.

The man behind the counter cackled. “That’s a pineapple daiquiri! It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction. “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work. You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks. It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating. Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing. His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work. His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo! Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled. “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response. “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter. A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat. “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami. “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing. I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami! Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now. It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was. Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass. He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass. As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours. Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering. He held up the drink. It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time. An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything? Did you say anything?” The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour. You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music. You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman). The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be. You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly. With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume. The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete. You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock. Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks. A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant. Who was talking to you? Did you get followed to the bathroom? Were you being watched? Were you in danger? Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami? Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one. “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety. The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you. Had he just complimented your ass? “And, uhm, thank you! For my ass. I mean, for saying I look good. Or, phenomenal, I think?” You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk. I’ll wait for you out here.” The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same. The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business. You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone. He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans. The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain. Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly. He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed. Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before. Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first. Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen. You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me? Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded. “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all. But how could I pass up such an alluring face?” He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom. His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated. “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes. “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.” His golden eyes met yours once more. “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now. You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments. A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull. You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good! You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself. The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours. You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er. He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours. The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet. He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside. The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club. The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head. His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor. Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier. Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders. Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was. A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval. You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered. “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information. You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath. “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband. “Anything for you, princess.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #catch up fic

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myseungsunglove · 7 months

Text

More than Willing | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x reader

Warnings: Smut, piv sex, no protection (Wrap it before you tap it and all that advice) friends to lovers, language

Word Count: 3.5k

𖠫Summary: Seungmin has been your constant since the moment you joined JYP Entertainment. He’s been your safe haven and your biggest supporter. When you became the 9th addition to Stray Kids in 2020, it only brought the two of you closer, but over the years there has been an unspeakable tension boiling at the surface, just waiting for a weak spot to break through and rear it's tempting head.

✎A/N✎: This has been in rolling around in my head for a few weeks now. I think I’ve played it out enough that it’s time to put one to paper. Hope you enjoy.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© February 28, 2024 by myseungsunglove」

XMDNIX

“Oh. My. God.” you sigh dramatically as you plop onto the king size bed in your NYC hotel room. “I can’t believe that just happened!” you giggle and groan all in one breath. “God I’m sore,” you grumble, throwing your arms to the side of you so that you look like a starfish on display in the bed.

“Pff,” Seungmin scoffs playfully as he knees the foot that is dangling off the edge of the bed. “Welcome to life on tour,” he smiles down at you. “I can give you one of my famous massages later,” he teases, winking at you. “How does it feel to have your first performance in the US as a member of Stray Kids behind you?”

You smile and sigh happily, reaching out a hand so he can help you up. He takes it gladly, moving to help you sit up, but instead he finds himself being pulled onto the bed, toppling not so gracefully on top of you with an exasperated laugh. You grunt at the weight of his body landing on you, but can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

“It feels like I’m on cloud 9 with a 120 pound weight on my chest,” you tease, looking up into his eyes as he remains where he landed.

“God, sorry,” he giggles, pushing himself off of you and rolling to lay beside you. “There really isn’t anything quite like that post concert high, is there?” He smiles wide, looking at you and a laugh tumbles from him. The cadence of his laugh sounds like a song. It’s beautiful and contagious and before you know it, you’re both giggling for absolutely no reason other than the sheer joy of the occasion.

After the laughing fit has passed, you let your arm fall across Sungmin's chest. It lands with a dramatic thud and a low umph is punched from his lungs. You chuckle again and work hard to keep another giggling fit at bay.

“The only thing that makes it better is that I get to spend it with my best friend,” you sigh, running your hand along his chest over the Maniac hoodie he is still wearing. “But fuck my muscles hurt like a bitch,” you laugh again as you smack his chest playfully and sit up with an exhausted sigh. “I really need a shower,” you add, pushing your hair out of your face. It’s late June in New York, and it’s a hot one.

“Yeah you do,” Seungmin smirks beside you. “You kinda smell,” he teases, sniffing the air and pulling a disgusted face. “Dibs on the shower first!” He laughs, jumping up from the bed and darting into the huge bathroom.

“Ya! Kim Seungmin you little shit!” you yell after him, hot on his tail only to have the door slam in your face. The last thing you see is a braces filled smile gleaming at you followed by maniacal laughter from behind the door. “Ah fuck you!”

“You wish!” he sing songs as he turns on the shower. You do a 180 and stomp dramatically into the living area, throwing yourself on the couch. Your head thuds against the back of it and you are starkly reminded just how sore your muscles are. This is your first world tour with the boys, having joined them right at the start of Covid and you didn’t realize just how demanding “regular” idol life could be. All you had known was life as a “Covid idol” as you liked to joke. It was still busy, but this was a whole new level of busy. Not to mention you were already prepping for a comeback in October.

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and turned on your playlist. Seungmin’s voice from his Hometown Cha Cha Cha OST rings out and you can’t help but laugh. His voice is your favorite in the whole world. You still can’t believe he is your best friend. You look around the room and sigh happily. The two of you always share a room when traveling, even when the company gets everyone else their own room. Seungmin always insists that he be with you, for safety reasons, he claims.

Sure you do feel a little more at ease with him in the same room when you are far from the safety of your dorms, but Seungmin knows you can handle yourself. The company initially forced you to room with someone, putting you with staff the first times you traveled. While you love each of them dearly, it hadn’t been the kind of experience you wanted or wanted to continue while traveling with SKZ and Seungmin had made sure that he was the one you roomed with from that point on.

You breathe deeply and gradually your breaths slow and you drift into a light sleep.

You’re eventually stirred by a quiet albeit dramatic sigh.

“I was gonna give you one of my famous massages,” Seungmin laments. You can hear his arms lift from his side and slap back down against his hips dramatically.

“I’m awake,” you start, opening your eyes and blinking a few times as Seungmin’s figure comes into view.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. You rub your eyes and when you open them again, you're surprised by the view. Seungmin has a towel still draped over his hips, his hair still wet. Usually he’d already be donning a white oversized T-shirt and a black pair of basketball shorts.

You lift a scrutinizing eyebrow at him, and can’t help but let your eyes roam his body. His shoulders are broad and his chest wide. He hides it under all his oversized clothes, but he has a well built torso despite not spending a lot of time in the gym. He is dedicated to perfecting dances, and that’s evident in his build. He’s slim and toned, defined without excess. Solid. Steady. His waist is tiny, smaller than yours, and his thighs are surprisingly thick though you can’t see them for the towel, but you know.

Seungmin clears his throat and laughs.

“Ya! My eyes are up here, perv,” he teases.

A blush pulls onto your face and you stand quickly. A satisfied smirk creeps onto Seungmin’s face and the unspoken tension that’s been dancing between the two of you for the better part of a year has manifested itself right into the room with you.

“Bought damn time,” you huff, standing and heading for the bathroom. “And you better not have been lying about that massage,” you add, your hand grazing Seungmin’s bare chest as you walk by him. He shakes his shoulders a little at your touch and tossels his wet hair around. You know goosebumps have pricked up on his skin. You don’t look back at him but you hear him clear his throat and sigh loudly as he falls against the couch with a chuckle. You can’t help but smile yourself as you step into the bathroom and close the door.

You’re not sure how long you spend in there, but the room is full of steam and hot as hell when you finally step out and grab a towel, wrapping it around your torso. You use another towel to dry your hair so that it isn’t soaking wet and pull open the bathroom door, steam billowing out into the room, announcing your departure from the bathroom.

“Fuck it’s hot out here too,” you complain, looking around for Seungmin.

“You know I don’t turn down the air if I can help it,” Seungmin says. He is lying on the couch where you left him, with a towel still draped over his hips.

“It’s not good for…”

“Not good for our voices, I know,” you interrupt him with a laugh. “Why are you still half naked?” you ask as you move into the bedroom and plop onto the bed again, holding the towel close to you so it doesn't fall.

Seungmin isn’t far behind you and laughs at you sprawled across the bed. “Cause it’s hot as balls,” he says as he walks over to his suitcase and pulls out a pair of black shorts. He tugs them on and pulls the towel off. “You’re still half naked,” he notes, walking into the bathroom to hang it up.

“How bout that massage?” you joke as he returns to the room, still bare chested, his hands pushing his hair out of his face only to have it fall back onto his forehead, his efforts fruitless.

“Promise is a promise,” he shrugs, walking back into the bathroom.

“You didn’t exactly promise, but if you’re willing I’m not complaining,” you sigh and pull a pillow under your head and shuffle around getting comfortable.

“I’m more than willing,” he chuckles as he returns from the bathroom, your favorite lotion in hand.

More than willing. You try not to let that phrase stick in your brain too much, but you can’t help but wonder what he means by it.

“You trust me, yeah?” he asks, a serious demeanor overtaking him suddenly. His eyes meet yours and there is something there you don’t recognize.

“Of course I do Seung,” you smile, a little nervously.

He squeezes some lotion onto his hand, rubbing his large hands together as he keeps his eyes on you. He reaches down and grabs your foot, massaging gently as he asks his next question.

“If you want me to stop, you’ll tell me?” He presses his thumb into the arch of your foot and a small moan escapes you.

“Yes,” you breathe out as he sets one foot down and gives the other the same treatment.

“Yes what?” he asks, and there is a teasing lilt to his voice now but a sense of command there as well.

“Yes, I’ll tell you to stop if that’s what I want,” you sigh as his hands move up to your calf and knead into them. You take a deep breath when both his hands slide over your knees and squeeze earnestly at your thighs. You don’t mean for the quiet moan to escape you, but Seungmin’s hands have always been good at this. However, he has never touched you quite like this. There is something different about the way his hands move up and down your thighs, your skin on fire as he moves his long fingers to the outside of your thighs and up along where your leg and hip meet.

You realize the towel has ridden up and remember you are still completely naked underneath.

Seungmin seems to notice your embarrassment and digs deeper into your hips and chuckles when you moan louder, your hands flying up to your face.

“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he says, his hands not leaving your body as they move up your sides and under the towel. “Though, this would be easier without the towel,” he says quietly, his hands dancing along your sides lightly.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you open the towel and let it fall to your sides, completely naked before him.

He shoots up suddenly, his hands off you in seconds as he turns around quickly. He runs his hands through his hair and his head falls forward as his long fingers dig into his neck, his elbows resting against his knees. You can’t help but watch the way his back ripples with his movements and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and running your hands over his shoulders.

“God, y/n, warn a guy first,” he chuckles nervously.

“You said it’d be easier,” you reply, reaching out and running your hand along his arm, pulling at it to get him to look at your face. “And maybe I want you to look,” you add when his big brown boba eyes meet yours. His tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip as his eyes dart down briefly at your mouth and back up to your eyes. His stare is intense and you feel like your body is on fire from the inside out from his look alone, and he hasn’t even really looked at you, but the thought propels you forward.

You take his hand and place it on your ribs, your hand resting gently over his. His fingers splay across your skin slowly and then squeeze at your sides, causing you to arch into his touch. He turns around then his knees back on the bed as his other hand lands on your ribs. He squeezes them, his hands slowly sliding up under your breast and back down again, causing you to let out a breath that you don’t realize you are holding.

You can’t take the tension anymore. You feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t do something.

“Kiss me,” the words fall desperately from your lips as your chest heaves tremulously under Seungmin’s gaze and touch.

His mouth gapes slightly, but when you reach out and touch his neck, his brain catches up and he lets you pull him down to your face.

“You want me to kiss you?” he asks, his eyes roaming your face as his hands stay firmly on your sides.

“God yes,” you breathe out and that seems to be all the permission he needs. His hands tuck under your back and he pulls your body flush against him as his lips find yours. You’d been watching Seungmin sing for years, but nothing prepared you for how soft his lips are. Your chests are pressed against each other as your mouths open to each other, his tongue slipping between your lips and tasting you in earnest. You cling to him as he rolls you to lay on top of him, his hands roaming your back as he kisses you breathless.

When your lungs are on fire and your skin ablaze and flushed, he pulls away, your name a whisper on Seungmin’s mouth. His lips are swollen and puffy and he looks more beautiful than you have ever seen him, his skin flushed and his hair a disheveled mess.

“Holy shit,” he breathes with a laugh as you kiss along his jaw and down his neck. “Fuck,” he moans when you nip at his pulse point then lave your tongue over it to smooth the ache. “Are we really doing this?” he asks, his hands settling on your hips.

“I can’t even tell you how long I’ve wanted you like this Seungmin,” you admit as you roll over beside him and hide behind your hands, suddenly starkly aware of the situation at hand, of the position you now find yourself in.

Seungmin quickly moves on top of you, his hips settling against yours, his covered erection evident against your cunt as he rolls his hips into you. He moves your hands away from your face before he speaks.

“Then have me,” he breathes out desperately, his lips locking with yours. He kisses you hard and deep and you can feel his braces against you as he moves against your lips. Your hands run down his back and over his hips as you desperately push his shorts past his ass. He lifts off you slightly, not wanting to break the kiss and pulls the shorts off completely, kicking them off as he settles back between your legs, his hard cock now running through your folds and your sweaty bodies moving slowly against one another.

His hands are everywhere at once as he takes his opportunity to move his kisses across your jaw and down the column of your neck. His lips trail across your collarbone and he sucks several marks onto your skin as you moan desperately and arch into his mouth. When his lips find your hardened nipple, his tongue swirling around it before sucking it into your mouth, a broken sob shakes your body.

Seungmin lavishes your body with attention before trailing his way back up to your mouth. He kisses you slowly, his hips canting against yours as he confesses.

“I can’t believe you want me too,” he breathes against your lips, his hand softly holding your face as his thumb swipes across your cheek. “My beautiful best friend. My y/n,” he sighs and kisses you again. “I love you,” he pants against your mouth.

“Then show me how much,” you respond, your legs falling open more.

He reaches between your bodies and grasps his dick in hand, running it through your folds before lining himself up with your wet entrance. “You're sure?” he asks, the head of his cock breaching you slowly.

You arch into him, your hands running down his back and settling on his ass as you help him ease into you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Minnie,” you let out your airy confession. “I love you so fucking much.”

His lips find yours again, his hand on the side of your face and in that moment, you think you could lie there and kiss him forever and be completely satisfied. It’s only when he pulls out of you and slowly slides back in, his hips meeting yours and pressing hard against your body, that a moan falls from you and your brought back to the reality that you’re fucking your best friend. No, you're making love to your best friend.

His hips find a slow and steady rhythm as he pulls away from your lips just enough to look into your eyes as he pushes in and pulls out of you. Your mouth falls open, small puffs of air cascading out of you with each press of his hips, his cock reaching that spot inside of you that sets you on fire in a whole new way.

Your hands roam his back and move up to his shoulder, his pace slowly picking up as you squeeze around him, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck,” you moan, moving your body to meet his as you start to feel that coil tighten in your abdomen.

“Fuck,” Seungmin echos, as your bodies slap together, his stomach tightening, that blissful release eminent. “Y/n, I’m gonna come,” he warns.

Your legs wrap around his hips, holding him to you as he drives into you, his rhythm now erratic. He reaches between you and starts to rub circles around your clit.

“Seungmin,” you moan and arch into his touch, your walls squeezing around him. That’s all it takes for him to spill into you, his pace briefly quickening when his climax hits him. That’s what pulls you over the edge, his hands moving to your hips once he feels you flutter around him, his seed warm as it overflows from your pussy and drips down over his balls and down your ass as you quiver beneath him.

Your hands reach out for his face, pulling him into a kiss once more.

“I love you, Kim Seungmin,” you whisper against his lips as he settles against your body, his hand running up and down your sides lovingly as he kisses you slowly again.

“I’m so in love with you,” he confesses, looking into your eyes. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” his cheeks blush and you place your hands on both sides of his face.

“You have me now,” you tell him, pulling him in again to kiss him hard.

Suddenly he is laughing against your kiss and pulls away from you.

“I don’t think this probably helped with your muscle soreness,” he jokes, pulling out of you and moving to get up from the bed.

You laugh out loud, slapping his chest as he pulls away from you, his hand reaching out to pull you up.

“Definitely made it worse,” you agree with a playful laugh. “Not that I mind,” you add as he pulls you up from the bed.

“Shower,” he says as he tugs you toward the bathroom. “This time I won’t lock you out,” he winks as you step into the bathroom and he moves to turn on the shower. “You’ll really get that massage now,” he smiles mischievously, pulling you into the shower with him.

Your laughter is muffled by a teasing kiss and you can’t help but think what a wonderful tour this is going to turn out to be.

#seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #Kim Seungmin Smut #Kim Seungmin Drabble #Seungmin One Shot #Seungmin smut #skz smut #Kim Seungmin One Shot

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spiderm444rk · 24 days

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hi guys, i didn’t really have the strength to come here and speak up about the taeil issue yesterday, but it’s extremely important to address this so i definitely have something to say about it.

i was at work yesterday, and i found out about the whole scandal during my 30 minute break, and i was half convinced it’s not real and he didn’t really get kicked out for like the first half of it - it was a shock, to randomly find out a person i stanned and supported for 4 years would be capable of doing something like this. once i realized it’s actually happening and sm kicked him out without a second thought, i understood how serious the scandal is and that no one is exaggerating.

i understand the whole situation makes us all feel disappointed and disgusted, and that it’s a sensitive topic, but i think it’s very important to educate ourselves about this and hold taeil accountable. let’s go over it together.

i saw too many kpop stans spreading misinformation, which in the end negatively affects the victim of this case the most . by making up fake stuff for clout, you only take away the attention from the actual victim who is trying to tell her story and get her justice. we don’t do that over here.

first of all, i hope everyone is aware that this is a REAL issue and that it actually happened. this isn’t a rumour, he’s an actual criminal. the police literally charged him with a sex related crime. sm, who is known for giving problematic people a second choice kicked him out IMMEDIATELY. no hiatus, no nothing. he’s just out of the picture. his bubble got terminated today. he’s being removed from nct zone. all of his album photocards are getting replaced by group photocards as we speak. sm is working hard to separate him from the group image asap. if this doesn’t speak volumes about how serious this scandal is, i don’t know what does. i hope NO ONE supports that man anymore. unfollowing him isn’t something to brag about, it’s just common sense. rapists deserve to rot behind the bars.

i saw a lot of people say they won’t believe it until it’s proven, but what more do you need? it already is proven. the whole group unfollowed him - not only 127, but dream and wayv too. taeyong deleted every picture with him while being in the military. this isn’t sm kicking him out because it will make the group look bad, they kicked him out because he’s a confirmed criminal. “i’m gonna wait until he’s proven guilty” he already is. hold that pathetic mistake of a man accountable.

but what i wanted to talk about the most - for the sake of the victim. let’s not blindly believe every lie we see on the internet and disregard the victim’s story.

- THE ONLY THING CONFIRMED IS THAT TAEIL IS CHARGED WITH A SEX RELATED CRIME. they didn’t specify anything. we don’t know what exactly it is, but i think we can all picture how terrible it needs to be for sm to kick him out of the company without a second thought.

- the investigation has been going on since june, but no one except the police and the victim who reported him knew. taeil of course knew he’s guilty, but he didn’t know he’s under investigation, and neither did sm or the rest of the nct members. they all learned about it - according to sm - in the middle of august, AFTER the last 127 fan meeting. so no, it’s not like they knew and included him anyway. it’s not like taeil knew he’s being investigated and went there to meet fans with a big smile on his face.

i’m obviously not saying this to protect him, but let’s not make it seem like all of the neos already knew and just kept being best friends with a rapist, especially in front of people who support them and love them. they didn’t know, and neither did the company. as soon as sm found out (from the police), he was out of the group.

- none of the rumours are confirmed. i’m not saying they can’t be real, but since it’s not confirmed, let’s focus on what we know (let me repeat myself) - taeil is guilty, sm and nct learned about it in the middle of august, he got kicked almost immediately. the police also confirmed the victim A is an adult woman, and no underage victim of the same gender is involved in this case. they said they won’t reveal any information about the progress of the case so the victim’s identity stays anonymous.

that’s it.

but what does it really mean ? there was a rumour about taeil raping an 11 year old girl to the point where she’s now permanently disabled, and abusing her for 6 years and hacking her phone so she couldn’t report him- NOT CONFIRMED. this case also isn’t about her. the victim who reported him is an adult woman. this doesn’t mean it can’t be real, or that there aren’t more victims out there, but it’s not the case that is being investigated right now.

people are also saying that taeil’s car accident didn’t actually happen, and that it was this girl’s grandpa/family member who broke his leg when they went to beat him up for what he did to the girl and that the car accident was just a cover up - also not confirmed. people are probably just trying to gain clout.

the @ agnes_121430 instagram account has been commenting on taeils ig posts since june, but she also posted about her case getting closed today, so she isn’t the actual victim in this case. she also said she never actually met taeil face to face (?).

taeil also isn’t involved in the burning sun scandal (yet, because once again, it’s not confirmed by any relevant platform) but this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t bring it up again, because the chance that he or other male idols are involved is still there. korean women are suffering, we need to keep bringing this up.

same thing is with the Nth room, or any other similar telegram group chat. the Nth room is a group chat where you need to PAY a high fee to even get in, and the members of this group chat literally record women without their consent and even without them knowing and then sell the videos in that gc. random women, but even their FAMILY MEMBERS. they also make deepfakes of women - their sisters, mothers, they don’t care. they also target schools and the girl students in there. they threaten the girls to record themselves doing really fucked up stuff and then send it to the group chat, or just straight up drug them, touch them without consent, rape them… you can look this up. this scandal is about taeil, but this is also about what do the korean women have to go through, the mentality in south korea is insane. it’s not only a kpop issue, but also a human rights issue, and we need to address it.

also, there’s a rumour the Nth room members are getting exposed tomorrow. this isn’t true. if you see anything, it will be 99% made up, and bored kpop stans will just drag idols without any proof.

everyone needs to understand that we don’t really know these people and we never know who else is involved in stuff like this - i really hope no one in nct knew about this and that they aren’t involved, but this is such an unexpected reality check that it’s still hard for me to grasp it and decide what to believe or not. in no way i support taeil, but wow. it’s crazy what men are capable of, while acting like they’re the biggest sweethearts in front of other people.

let’s hold all rapists and people who SA people of any gender and in any way accountable, and expose all celebrities if they ever did something like this. no one wants to support criminals. taeil needs to pay for what he did.

please spread the word and don’t believe everything you see. if anyone wants the source of what i’m saying, i can dm it to you. i hope everything will get better with time and this isn’t the definitive downfall of nct 127, but i guess we’ll have to wait and see. i know this is difficult to deal with. i hope the victim will get her justice, and everyone please take care. i’m with every nctzen out there. stay strong.

#nct 127 #ot8 #nct #nct u #nct dream #taeil #moon taeil #men continue to disappoint me every day

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

When All Is Said and Done | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (18+)

In which Maverick’s best man and his daughter come together to plan a wedding, then celebrate the success of their endeavours.

Warnings: smut, porn w very little plot, unprotected pinv (use protection pls), oral (f receiving), choking, drinking

“I do.”

“And do you, Penny Benjamin —“

“I do.” Your mother beams, smiling at the love of her life from across the alter. She has been waiting for this day for a long time. Pete was her first real love. They had met when she was wild and he was even wilder. They’ve been on and off for decades, but this time, they’re making it official.

You were a result of one of their on times, followed by some pretty bumpy offs through your childhood. They did their best to keep you out of the ugliest parts of it, you know that they’ve loved each other for as long as you’ve been alive.

But, not always like this. There was Stu, your Mom’s second husband, Amelia’s dad. He was there through most of your adolescence. Not to mention the countless women that Mav has introduced you to.

Your parents reconciled about a year ago. It’s been a whirlwind, you’ve never seen them this in love. So, when they announced two months ago that they were engaged and wanted to be married as soon as possible — you had known that the pressure was on.

This was your seven year old dreams coming true, it had to be perfect. Unsurprisingly, you were chosen to be maid of honour. More surprisingly, Maverick chose Bradley Bradshaw to be his best man.

As kids, you saw Bradley frequently. Whenever you would stay with your dad, he would drop you over at Aunt Carole’s house often. Bradley was a couple of years older, he wasn’t ever really that interested in playing with you but Carole adored having you around.

As teenagers, you barely saw him at all. He was always at sports, or in his room with friends, or out of the house. Then he and Maverick had had that huge argument. You hadn’t seen him since he was maybe seventeen.

Then he had come strolling back in to your life.

Taller than he was back then. Stronger. Broader. Tanned, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a neatly groomed moustache on his face, calling himself Rooster now. At first, you had thought he had shown up in costume.

You were quickly corrected by him. That had been an embarrassing mistake to make.

Your parents lasted through a week of wedding planning before they were butting heads and arguing about different shades of green for the chair covers. Sitting at the kitchen counter, looking between the two of them disapprovingly, you had known that you would have to intervene.

“Just relax, Rooster and I will take care of everything.” You had breathed, stepping between the two of them.

“We will?” Bradley frowned.

“Yes, we will.” You had insisted.

The two months that had followed had been hard. Planning the wedding that your parents had wanted in two months had proven to be damn near impossible. You had to take time off work, stay up late. The majority of your early summer had been spent arguing with venues and coordinators to make sure that the wedding went off without a hitch.

Bradley had been busy with work. Unable to take time off like you could. Too busy to help with decorations and suit rentals, even though that was what you had allocated. Somehow not too busy to plan your father’s bachelor party.

Things had changed at the end of May. You had cornered him and told him that things had needed to change. He insists that you had threatened his life — you aren’t so convinced that you did, but either way, it had worked.

Now, in the middle of June, your parents lean together and kiss softly. The church, filled with your closest family and friends, cheers for them. You clap, grinning at your parents.

“I want to start off by thanking everyone who helped out, and worked hard to make today special for my beautiful wife and I,” Mav begins, smiling softly. He turns his head and looks at you and Bradley individually, “Especially our incredible daughter, and my best man over here, Bradley.”

You lean back in your seat and extend your champagne glass behind Penny and Maverick’s chairs, towards Bradley. He smiles softly and takes his, leaning around them to clink his glass against yours.

“We did it.” You mouth across to him.

“Told you we would.” He whispers back. You grin, bringing your glass back and taking a sip from it.

You sit there politely, listening to your father’s speech, feeling Bradley’s eyes on you every couple of minutes.

After Maverick has thanked everyone for their part in the wedding, the band takes over for a while to give your parents some time to talk to each other and to their guests. You get up to stretch your legs, Bradley heads over to his friends to greet them for the first time since the reception.

You walk out onto the patio, the buzz from the champagne and the breeze from the dropping temperature hits you all at once, but it’s a pleasant feeling. The stress from the past few months fades as you walk down the steps and into the garden. The decorations from today’s ceremony are still up. You look around at them, proud of yourself for the work you did.

You walk up to the front, taking a seat on the bench closest to the arch. You sit down and take a drink from your champagne glass.

The peace and quiet is nice, you sit with your sense of accomplishment and mild buzz, listening to the wind in the trees.

“Hiding already, Mitchell? — Mav’s not even rapping yet.” Bradley teases, calling back to the Eminem incident at your father’s fifty-eighth birthday party, as he follows along the same path towards you. You cringe at the memory, unable to stop yourself from letting out a soft groan.

“Oh, don’t,” You complain, letting out a dry laugh. You shake your head as he steps around and sits down next to you. “He was so wasted that night.”

“So were you, if I remember right.” Bradley comments, taking a sip of his beer, stretching his legs out in front of him. He’s handsome in his tux, especially under the twinkling lights strung above the garden. He turns his head to you, his expression a mixture of amusement and challenge.

“I was not!” You insist, shaking your head again as you sip at your champagne.

“So you dance like that when you’re sober, good to know.” Bradley comments, lips quirked up into a soft smirk. You scoff and drive your elbow into his ribs playfully. He laughs and shifts closer to you. He extends his arm along the back of the bench.

It’s not technically draped around your shoulder, but it’s also not not around your shoulder.

You turn your head to look at him. He bumps his beer bottle against your champagne flute gently, “You did good. Today was incredible.”

“We did.” You correct him, fully aware of how close you’re sitting. You’ve never noticed that he’s got soft brown freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose before today.

He shakes his head, lifting his hand from the back of the bench. His thumb strokes along your bare bicep and makes you shiver, “This was all you and we both know it. Your parents are so lucky to have you.”

“I can’t believe those words just left your mouth,” You scoff playfully, leaning your head back to look at the twinkling lights above both of you. There’s a soft breeze tonight, you can still hear the music playing inside. Bradley’s warmth radiates onto you. This is nice. “Aren’t you the one who called me a control freak a couple of months ago?”

Rooster smiles, caught.

“I didn’t think your Dad was going to snitch on me, in my defence.” Bradley replies, stroking his fingertips along your arm. “I don’t think that anymore, anyway. You’re just bossy.”

“I am not—“

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you to go ahead. You bite your cheeks to keep from smiling, staring him down. Rooster smirks. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

Oh. This is happening. He leans in, closing his eyes, tilting his head, pressing his lips to yours. You lean slightly into him, lips tenderly moving against his.

Rooster leans closer, resting his hand against your knee, trailing it along your skin. It slides along your thigh, trailing the slit in the side of your bridesmaid dress.

“Hey - woah, oh no - oh, ew!”

You pull apart sharply to look at your younger sister. Amelia raises her eyebrows as she looks between the two of you.

“Were you two…?”

“No!” You answer sharply, Rooster looks between her and you. “What do you want?”

“Can I use your ID to get a drink?”

“No.” You frown at her. She groans, rolling her eyes and walking away from the two of you. Bradley takes his hand away from your thigh and shifts back slightly.

He covers his mouth with his hand, brushing it over his jaw and sighing, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pull him forwards again, pressing your lips to his. He nips at your bottom lip, the taste of champagne on your tongue as it slides against his.

He slides his hand up your back, curling it around the nape of your neck and pulling you closer against him. Your chest presses into his as he caresses his tongue into your mouth.

You pull apart abruptly again at the sound of footsteps behind you.

“Not here.” Rooster mumbles. You slip your hand into his, leaving your drinks on the bench as you pull him up and guide him back into the building. Trailing your fingers along the wall, you push open a random door on the right of the hallway.

It’s a small room, someone’s office maybe. A desk in the middle that’ll work just fine for what’s about to happen. You round on him as the door closes behind him. Rooster’s hands find your waist as yours drape around his shoulders.

His hands wrap around your waist and trail down to cup your ass, causing you to let out a small gasp. Rooster presses himself into you, walking you back until you bump into the desk. You tense up as he grabs your hips and drops you onto the desk.

This has been a long time coming. All those bickering arguments, late-night phone calls, all those hours you’ve spent planning today. Deep down, you had known this was coming.

Rooster lips his tongue into your mouth once again, grabbing your knees and parting them, moving to stand between your thighs. His fingertips trail up along your legs, as far as the slit in your dress will allow him. Not far enough.

This time, not skipping a beat, he hikes up your dress. Thick thumb swiping over your cleft, eliciting a soft purr from your lips. The honeyed sound has him growling softly in anticipation, pressing his mouth hard against yours, picking up his movements.

You reach forwards, tugging at his bow tie, loosening it in one movement. Your hands fumble with the buttons on his white shirt. Rooster presses himself against you, nipping at your bottom lip as you tug his shirt out from under his belt to finish unbuttoning it.

Rushing to get him out of it, he works with you, shrugging his suit jacket and his unbuttoned shirt at once. He tugs hard at your knees, almost making you slip off of the desk as you’re pulled to the edge of it.

“Holy shit.”

Leaving him in just his trousers, you take a moment to marvel at his bare chest — god, he’s so much hotter now than he was when you were kids. He pushes your dress up further around your waist, grabbing the back of your knee with one hand, cupping your throat with the other.

“So wha— god,” Rooster breathes out as you pepper a dozen kisses over the length of his neck. “What are you into?”

Your brows furrow slightly, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage as he pushes the thin strap of your dress of your shoulder, attaching his mouth to the skin.

It’s hard to think when he’s nipping at your skin like this. Your head lulls back, a soft moan slipping your lips.

“Uh — I — I’m pretty into reading, and s-stuff— um —“

“In bed, Mitchell — I meant what are you into in bed?” Bradley interrupts, pulling back and giving a soft shake of his head. You stare at him, letting a moment of silence fall between the two of you.

“Choke me.”

“Huh?”

You grab the back of his neck and pull him in again, humming softly as he relaxes into you. The kisses grow more passionate, there’s a certainty between the two of you about what’s going to happen here.

Braldey’s hand found its home back between your legs, pulling your panties to the side this time. You’re dripping for him already and he has barely touched you.

Circling his digits around your sensitive clit, you mewl quietly. Dipping into your wetness, he pushed the tip of his finger into you and lifts his head to look you in the eye. Your head just about spins, met with soft honey coloured eyes and parted lips.

Pushing deeper until his entire middle finger is in you, Bradley groans out. He works the digit into you, stretching you open more and more. Dripping onto his palm, you gasp for breath. Rooster eagerly presses another finger into you, making you whimper out softly.

He picks up the pace, kissing your lips as his fingers massage that spot inside of you that makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open. His other hand brushes the other strap of your dress off of your shoulder.

His attention quickly focuses on your exposed breasts, nipples peaked from the cold air. He groans softly.

You lean back on your palms, lips parted as his mouth works its way along your bare chest. Open-mouthed kisses, leaving a warm trail along your collarbones and down your chest.

You gasp as he curls his fingers especially deep into you.

“Fuck, Rooster — like that.”

He palms at your breast softly with his free hand, rolling your nipple between his index finger and thumb. It hardens further under his touch as his mouth attaches to the other, flicking his tongue softly over the sensitive bud.

“Oh my god…” You lean your head back, sliding your fingers into his neatly styled hair as the knot in your stomach grows tighter.

Rooster lowers himself to his knees, parting your knees further. You gasp as his teeth graze the inside of your thigh, fingers curling into his hair. He sucks softly at the tender skin, his mustache scratches softly, in the best way.

He pulls back for just a moment and hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, you lift your hips, he slides them down your legs, trailing their path with his mouth. He kisses your ankle tenderly and guides it over his shoulder.

Bradley shoves them into his pocket and nestles himself between your legs, glancing up at you. You look so beautiful, staring down at him so eager, but he doesn’t have time for heartfelt proclamations. He wastes no time in tasting you. Licking a stripe over your folds, he groans softly against your core.

You jolt at the feeling, watching him between your legs. He continues lapping at your core, thick fingers curling into you. You spread your legs wider for him — he grabs your thighs and guides them around his shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer.

He takes one hand away from your legs and palms himself over his dress pants, uncomfortably hard against the already tight fabric.

The wet muscle of his tongue dips inside of you, his nose brushing against your clit as he drags it slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traces the tip of his tongue around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go.

Your fingers curl tighter into his hair, panting out. Bradley groans against you, repeating the movements again and again until you’re crying out.

He grins against your skin at the shattered cry that slips your lips, sucking harder. You tug hard at his hair as his teeth gently scrape over it, your thighs squeezing around his ears. Rooster sucks at it softly again, fingertips digging into your thighs.

“What’s my name, baby?” He murmurs against your skin.

“Rooster, fuck!”

Bob and Fanboy stop walking at once, turning their heads to look at the door and then to look at each other. Mickey grins as he slips the joint between his lips, both of them shake their heads as they walk by the door.

They both laugh as they continue outside.

Your toes curl, heels pressing into his shoulders as he draws your orgasm from you. You cum, shuddering against his mouth. Rooster doesn’t ease up, lapping up your release, giving hums of approval as he guides you through the aftershocks.

He pulls away, raking his nails along your thighs. His eyes seem darker as he looks up at you this time. You push yourself upright, breathless. Rooster’s hands go for his belt as he stands up, tugging at the leather.

The sound you make is almost a growl. You pull him closer to you by his belt. He sighs contentedly as you pull it open, lips pressing hungrily to his throat. You leave his belt open, yanking down his zipper, pushing his boxers down just enough to expose him.

He rests one of his palms down on the desk, the other wrapping around the base of his cock. You both gasp softly as he pushes into you. You look up, met with pretty brown eyes. You whine softly.

“Oh fuck,” Rooster shivers, cupping your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss. You groan softly against him as he presses forwards until he’s buried into you completely. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

He rocks back, pulling almost all of the way out. Rooster rests his forehead to yours, lips parted as he looks down between the two of you, watching as he slides slowly back in. You whine through bitten lips, brows knitted in focus as your body stretches to accommodate him.

Forehead to forehead, your eyes meet for just a second. He curls his fingers tighter by just a fraction, guiding you in by your throat until his mouth is on yours. He nips softly at your bottom lip and uses the surprised gasp that follows as an opportunity to slip his tongue in against yours.

You moan softly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply.

“Ah - oh my god.” You whimper out, breathless, your eyes focused solely on him. He squeezes slightly tighter, setting a pace that has your head lulling back in pleasure.

“Look so fucking pretty, Mitchell.” He murmurs affectionately, lips brushing your earlobe as he fucks into you, constricting the airflow just enough to dizzy you without it hurting.

You smile at him, taking your bottom lip just slightly between your teeth. Rooster’s lips part. He takes in the sight of you, grinning devilishly at him, his hand around your throat as he fucks you.

“So pretty.” He breathes out unsteadily. He releases his hold, wetting his lips with his tongue as you gasp for air.

“Bradley - R-Rooster - fuck, fuck - that’s so good.” You whimper, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He leans forwards and presses his lips to your hair, snapping his hips forward and making you cry out.

He goes right to setting a brutal pace, ruthless as he fucks into you. Just how you need it. You’re gasping, moaning out for him as he grunts in your ear.

“You gonna cum again for me, honey?” Bradley teases, punctuating his question with a hard snap of his hips that draws a pleasured shriek from your lips. You nod eagerly as his hand wraps around your throat once more.

A strangled moan slips your lips, your heel pressing into the small of his back. Rooster growls softly into the curve of your jaw, tugging at your hair as he pounds into you.

Your nail drag sharply down his back, leaving scorching red marks in their wake. Rooster’s hips stutter slightly at the feeling, he squeezes his fingers tight at the sides of your throat as he rams himself into you, hard. You cry out into his shoulder as your vision goes blisteringly white.

“Bradshaw? You in there?” Three heavy knocks rattle the door. Rooster takes his hand from your throat and clamps it over your mouth. Jake bangs at the door again.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.” Bradley whispers. You squeak against his hand, the sensitivity making you tremble through the aftershocks of your second orgasm. You nod hurriedly, moaning against his palm.

You're vaguely aware of Rooster’s praises raining over you, telling you how good you feel — how good you’re doing for him, as you tremble under him. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, pressing himself as close as he could possibly be.

He rocks his hips a little, riding out his high, groaning against the curve of your jaw.

“Bradshaw!” Jake pounds at the door again. “Maverick’s looking for you!”

Rooster blinks, looking down between your bodies and then back up at your face. You watch his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“One second!” Bradley answers, curling his fingers around your hips. He rests his forehead against his shoulder, both of you whining just slightly as he pulls back and slips out of you.

“Oh my god.” You breathe, legs trembling. You push yourself up from the desk, hurrying the straps to your dress back up your shoulders to cover your chest.

“Rooster — you have a speech to give, man, you have to get out there!” Jake insists, knowing that Maverick is happy and smiling now but that things are likely to take a turn if the best man doesn’t show up soon.

“I’m-“ Rooster tucks himself back into his pants and rushes to buckle his belt. “I’m coming! — Just hold on.”

He looks to you and finds you smirking as you fix your hair. He’s not coming now, but he was a couple of seconds ago. Rooster grabs his shirt and jacket, slipping them on in one motion and fumbling to button up his shirt.

You turn around and look into the reflection of the candle holder, fixing up any smudged make up. You smooth your hair out once more, making sure there aren’t any indents from Rooster’s fingertips.

Rooster finishes buttoning his shirt and smooths out his hair, knowing it must be fucked up from how you were grabbing it when he was between your legs.

“I gotta go, I’ll - Just let me do this, I’ll come back-“

“Rooster, wait!”

He turns quickly.

“Rooster!” Jake calls again on the outside of the door, smacking his fist into it. Rooster’s eyes widen as you dip your hand into his pocket. You pull your underwear from it and hold it up.

“Oh, shit - sorry, honey. You look beautiful. I gotta go.” He leans in quickly and kisses your cheek. You step back, making sure Jake won’t spot you when the door opens.

Bradley opens it a fraction, slipping through the gap and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jake steps back and furrows his eyebrows, “Mav’s going to fucking kill you.”

“What? — Why? — I didn’t do anything.” Rooster rushes out, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide. All in all, looking fairly disheveled. He tucks his shirt into his pants.

“Because speeches started fifteen minutes ago and you were supposed to start. You’re going last now, but there’s only so long that Penny’s dad can stall for you, man — where’s your tie?” Jake frowns. Rooster looks down and realises his bow tie is still on the floor of the room he just exited. He shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. I have to pee, two seconds and I’ll be right there.��

“What? — I thought that was the bathroom, what were you? Oh. Oh, Bradshaw, you were not fucking one of the bridesmaids!”

“Shh!” Bradley hisses. He glares at Jake. “Go, stall for me, two seconds.”

Bradley rushes into the men’s room to clean up. You have the same plan. Jake’s handing Bradley the microphone when you step back into the room and cross to take your seat at the head table. Bradley’s on Mav’s left, you’re on Penny’s right.

“Where did you disappear to, honey?” Penny whispers as Bradley cracks jokes about Maverick’s wild, younger days.

You swallow, adjusting your dress slightly, lifting your head to look at Bradley. “Had to get some air.”

“Hm,” Penny hums, nodding her head softly. She smiles and pats your knee, “Amelia already told on you, sweetheart. Is that your lipstick on Bradley’s collar?”

You pick up the glass of champagne in front of you and take a long gulp.

…

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun smut

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months

Text

Online & Anonymous 14/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018

2019 – Bradley

Reconnecting with Jas after nearly a year and a half of no contact feels like a fragile glass butterfly in his hands, one he’s scared to hold too firmly in his hands, terrified it will shatter if he moves wrong. He continues sending pictures of his morning cup of coffee, although it’s just with a heart emoji now; no daily apology. Simply an acknowledgement that he thinks of him pretty much as soon as he wakes up. He doesn’t always get one back immediately, but their time zones are very different right now. Jas has admitted that sometimes he takes the photo and saves it to send, so he can pretend they’re sharing, existing at the same time. Bradley admits to wanting to be able to make him coffee every morning. Knows exactly how he takes it.

His leave has been approved for December, and he’s put in a cushion of an additional week either side to allow for missed flights and natural disasters and he’ll fucking go AWOL if he has to. He hasn’t shared his little contingency plan with Jas, but he will if worst comes to worst. He doesn’t let himself think about it too much, or look forward to it. Doesn’t want to build it all up for it to crumble down around him again. And he’s working very hard to ensure he doesn’t sabotage himself. Not this time. His therapist has given him a lot to think about and sometimes he really hates how right they are.

Right now though he’s in Ramstein working with the Airforce, some cooperative training gig and he’s trying to use it as a cultural thing, but he feels like he could just be on a base somewhere, anywhere, back home. For some reason it makes him feel homesick for what he thinks must be the first time in his life. Last Christmas he’d spent it with Ice and his family for the first time since he was a teenager. Their relationship healed enough now for him to realize and regret how many years he’s lost. He guesses the maturity and therapy have probably helped, although he sometimes feels like a little kid again, seeking out attention and approval. One of Ice’s kids has kids themselves, and that is wild to him. Ice can’t talk very well, but considering how expressive his face can be when he chooses it to be he’d had entire silent conversation with Bradley while he’d been staying.

… … …

>>I’m in Germany.

>>Huh. I’m in Japan.

>>Oh. I like Japan.

>>We’ll have to go together sometime.

>>Wait.

>>What are you doing in Germany?

>>What do you mean?

>>I’m deployed here?

>>Uh. I know you’re Navy. I mean. Yeah.

>>You let it slip years ago.

>>Oh. Shit. Did I?

>>I didn’t realize.

>>Yeah.

>>So. Only seems fair to tell you I’m Navy too.

>>Shit. Really? God. What are the chances?

>>Well, I crunched the numbers few years ago, and they’re not that farfetched.

>>Of course you did.

>>And I’m in Germany helping out with a cooperative training exercise. Just a short four month stint and then back home in June.

>>You sure you don’t want more details?

>>Positive. I like the idea of us having some topics of conversation we haven’t covered.

He desperately just wants to blurt it out, has in fact tapped out his name and exactly what he does, only to delete it all. He’ll respect Jas’s wishes, even if he doesn’t like them. Even now, knowing they’re both in the Navy and Bradley could, if he wasn’t respecting Jas’s personal boundaries, call Ice and ask him to pull every active-duty man with the initials JAS and born in 1986. Surely there aren’t that many.

>>Talking has never been something we’ve struggled with.

>>Have you seen the new How to Train your Dragon movie?

>>Weirdly, I have. Why?

>>Well, I’ve only been able to watch it in German. I think I understand what is happening, but can you run me through what exactly they were looking for? I didn’t get why it was so important.

He wants to ask why Jas has seen a movie for kids, but he doesn’t, instead waits for Jas to fill in all the bits of plot Bradley missed due to watching the film in the nearby town with a German dub rather than watching it on base.

… … …

“Bradshaw. The CO would like to see you.”

He nods his head to acknowledge the words and heads off immediately. He doesn’t know why he’s being summoned but he’s not going to start disobeying orders or summons. He knocks on the door and waits to be called in.

“Lieutenant. You’ve been called in for a special detachment. You leave for North Island at seventeen-hundred.”

“Today sir?”

“Yes. A matter of urgency it seems. A shame, you’re a damned good instructor and flier. I’ll be sure to have you back.”

“Thank you sir.”

He’s handed the papers, a mere formality now, he’ll have electronic ones sitting in his HR account. He’s got a few hours to pack, say some goodbyes. North Island. Of all places. Okay. He’s heading back stateside.

… … …

He manages to get some sleep on the flight, then rest and report in. North Island is home and it also isn’t. He always feels mixed up emotionally when he’s here, too close to his parents and all his memories with Maverick growing up. He goes and collects the Bronco from storage, unsurprised to find a note telling him it’s been serviced and run, and he swings by to visit Ice, who doesn’t seem surprised to see him at all. He looks tired though, wearing a thick jacket and scarf despite the warm spring day. Bradley knows better to mention anything, Sarah having warned him. He stays for lunch, plays with the grandkids and then, because Ice is an angel amongst men, heads to the Hard Deck where he’s just been told his best friend probably is. The fact that she’s also been called to whatever this mission is fills him with pride, she’s a damned fine aviator, definitely better than him in some respects; and definitely able to make the most of having a back seater.

Of course she’s pissed off with him for not telling him that he was going to be here, and he can’t exactly tell her he only knows because the COMPACFLT dropped him a message. He does mutter about being in a different country less than twenty-four hours ago but she just pulls a face at him and he knows she doesn’t accept it as a reason or an excuse. It hurts a little to see Seresin again. To think about the potential they had. He looks good though. Happy and confident, the little smirk always there just on the corner of his lips. He always wants to kiss it off, but it's not his place. Has never been his place. He plays it off, tries to anyway, and his mouth still takes off without him, brain distracted by looking and he really has to practice better self-control.

“Hangman. You look… good.”

There’s a flash of annoyance and Bradley winces. He’s glad he went with something as mundane as good, except him saying that has always been a lead into hooking up. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this. Not with anyone, but especially not with Seresin. They aren’t anything to each other, never were, never will be. He’ll apologize as soon as he can for the slip up.

“I am good Rooster. I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.”

He rolls his eyes, but he deserves the sharp look, the slight meaness, although he also can’t ignore it, because Seresin is still an arrogant shit, for all his beautiful flying. Natasha is muttering under her breath, talking about not caring about dick sizes, and he has to stop himself from laughing as she blatantly and obviously changes the subject, the others grabbing the lifeline like drowning men. He focuses back in on the conversation just in time to hear Seresin again.

“And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”

He snorts.

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”

Fuck. He hadn’t meant that. Not like that. God. Another thing to apologize for. He’s opening a fucking tab.

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel. But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment… That never comes.”

He knows it’s a jibe about his fucking inability to commit to his relationship, and he’d like to prove him wrong by telling him that he’s very firmly back with his guy, but it feels empty when he flirted with him not even five minutes ago. What the hell is it with Seresin that always brings out the worst in him. He’s going to have to apologize but he’s going to hate every fucking second of it.

“I love this song!”

Right.

He’ll apologize as soon as he no longer wants to punch him.

… … …

Fortunately Natasha’s presence, the piano playing and singing force him to unwind and it shifts his mood considerably, exactly what his therapist has told him to do. Not that a piano is frequently available, but he’s working on it. He sees Seresin head out and he follows him quickly, ignores Natasha’s hissed warning to not get into a fight.

“Hey! Seresin! Wait up!”

“What do you want Rooster?”

He sucks in a big breath. He can do this.

“I just wanted to apologize. For flirting. I shouldn’t have done that. For several reasons, but it was shitty of me and I’ll work on it not happening again.”

Seresin looks at him, expression tense and he’s worrying a toothpick which Bradley does his best to ignore.

“Anything else you want to apologize for Bradshaw?”

Bradley pauses, thinks back to what he said and pulls a face.

“Fuck. Yeah. You won’t lead anyone into an early grave either. I didn’t mean that. It was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry.”

“Anything else?”

Bradley blinks.

“Uh. No… not that I can think of? Why?”

The look Seresin is giving him is calculating, like he’s trying to figure something out; then Seresin is reaching out and tugging on his shirt.

“Thought you might like to apologize for crimes against fashion. This is one godawful shirt you’re wearing…”

“I like this shirt.”

“Of course you do. Hmm.”

“Are you going to apologize to me?”

“For what?”

“For calling me slow?”

“Nothing wrong with slow Rooster…”

The look on his face, the way he juts out his hip and licks his lips around the fucking toothpick… Bradley feels the flush hit his cheeks, can tell his neck and chest are also going warm and he steps back. He can’t and won’t engage with this. With him.

“Was good seeing you Seresin. Have a good night.”

… … …

He gets back inside the Hard Deck and he spies Natasha talking with Bob, knows she’s starting the process of getting to know her new back seater, which is usually to beat them soundly in whatever macho game they think they’re better at, and then to show them that she can and will fly, and fly well. Then she usually forces them into a self-care night of face masks and nails, for which Bradley is usually invited along to if he’s around, although he knows Coyote has been seconded into the roll a couple of times.

“You look… whole,” Natasha says, and she reaches for his hand, inspects his knuckles and Bradley huffs in annoyance, pulling his hand back when he realizes what she’s doing.

“I didn’t punch him.”

“No. You just stalked out of here looking like you wanted to.”

“I actually went and apologized to him.”

Both her and Bob blink.

“Seriously?”

“What can I say, I’m the bigger man, admitting when I’m wrong and apologizing.”

“I still feel like I should go outside and check for a body…”

“It’s fine. I’m going to try and be nice.”

“Yeah. Okay. Good luck with that.”

“What she said,” Bob says.

… … …

The thing is he does try, but he’s also completely thrown by the fact that Maverick is there and is apparently the one teaching them. His anger is bubbling fresh, like he never took it off the boil and he’s angry again with Ice for not fucking warning him. Maverick doesn’t look at all surprised to see him and that makes him feel even angrier. He desperately needs to either run, punch some pillows or angrily play out his feelings on a piano until he calms down. None of which he can do while he watches his godfather stand at the front of a makeshift classroom and tell them all that the mission success will come down to the pilot in the box.

… … …

“So, Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

Jesus Christ, one apology and the man is going to ask about his whole life history. Now is not the fucking time, not to mention the line is open and everyone can hear them. He scans the skies and screens for any sign of Maverick.

“Would it matter if I did?”

“What’s the story with you and Maverick?” Speak of the fucking devil… “It seems like he’s got you rattled.”

“That’s none of your business. Now where the hell is he?”

“Been here the whole time.”

“Holy shit,” Seresin breathes and Bradley pulls a face, because that tone is also far too similar to what he sounds like in bed and he can not be thinking about that right now.

He get’s shot down for a second time, knows he’s toeing the line of being an idiot, doesn’t need Natasha railing at him, or the four-hundred push-ups he insists on doing which leave his arms feeling like jelly and Hondo looking at him like he pities him. He goes back to his accommodation on base and stares at the key to his family home, wonders if he should do anything about it, ignores Natasha’s messages and falls into a fitful sleep without even changing out of his clothes.

… … …

He wakes later, and his first instinct is to make coffee, except it’s late and he needs to get used to the time difference. So he makes himself a hot cocoa from the supplies, although the fat he has to chip away at the solid mass tells him it likely won’t be worth the effort. Still, it gives him something to do. He snaps a picture and sends it, just adds a jet lag is real over it and sends it. Jas has been unnaturally quiet the last couple of days and Bradley desperately wants to just pick up his phone and call him. Except he doesn’t have his number and he won’t ask for it.

Calling was never an option in the beginning, not with the lack of service out on carriers, and the fact that exchanging numbers also meant exchanging names. Bradley has never not answered the phone with his whole name, so he’d never offered. He’s got so many regrets on so many fronts he feels like a twenty-sided dice.

>>Everything okay?

>>You’ve been kind of quiet these last couple of days.

>>You ever bump into someone and think that it was maybe me you were talking to?

>>Um. Actually yeah.

>>Once. Years ago.

>>But there just ended up being all these little facts that didn’t line up so I figured it wasn’t you.

>>Was he hot?

>>He was alright. Easy enough on the eyes.

>>Nothing happened. I was his instructor at the time.

>>You and your moral compass.

>>I’m rolling my eyes at you.

>>I’m not a saint.

>>Never accused you of that. Not sleeping with someone because you’re in a position of power. That’s pretty decent of you.

>>Got to try being a decent human right?

>>I guess.

>>Sometimes I fuck up but got to keep on trying.

>>Yeah. I guess you do.

… … …

Internally he’s a mess. The fact that the mission seems impossible, has been called a suicide mission, he’s having to see Maverick everyday, and Seresin keeps looking at him like he’s trying to puzzle something out. Like how big the body bag needs to be maybe. Now he’s being told he isn’t flying fast enough, he’s going to get shot down and he’s going to be responsible for the death of his friends. Like any of them won’t suffer the exact same fate.

“It’s not the plane, sir, it’s the pilot.”

“Exactly!”

“There’s more than one way to fly this mission.”

“You really don’t get it. On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back. No offense intended.”

“Yet somehow you always manage,” Bob murmurs and normally Bradley would smile at the comeback, but he can’t right now. His frustration and anger are carefully balanced and he doesn’t want either of them to tip over.

“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that’s all.”

“Lieutenant.”

“We’re going into combat, son, on a level no living pilot’s ever seen. Not even him. That’s no time to be thinking about the past.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Rooster.”

“I can’t be the only one that knows that Maverick flew with his old man.”

“That’s enough.”

“Or that Maverick was flying when his old man…”

“Lieutenant, that’s enough!”

“That’s enough.“

“You son of a bitch!”

“Hey, come on!”

“I’m cool, I’m cool. Hey, hey.”

“That’s enough.”

… … …

>>I have had an awful fucking day.

>>Tell me something to cheer me up?

He doesn’t get an answer.

… … …

He still doesn’t have an answer the next morning and he sends off his usual morning picture of his coffee, feels his entre body unclench when he gets a picture in response. There still isn’t any messages but it’s not complete radio silence. There is a message from his Captain, telling him to report to the Hard Deck in civvies appropriate for the beach and he lets out a long sigh. Sends a screen shot to Ice with a what the fuck is he thinking now? To which he gets back a line of laughing-crying emojis and your guess is as good as mine.

Well. He has no idea where the hell Maverick dreamed up dog-fight football, but at least they’re not all getting drunk together. That would have been a recipe for several disasters. It’s not that warm, but once they’re all running around it heats them up enough and it feels good to simply run around and play, forget, even for a little while, that one or more of them might be dead in a couple of weeks.

… … …

As if they needed reminders about just how dangerous their jobs are without the added aspects of the mission in front of them they have the day from hell and Bradley feels responsible. Thinking his verbal sparring with Hangman somehow made it a bad day he somehow jinxed them all. Having Coyote come so close to burning in because of g-Loc, and then Natasha… his best friend. Listening to Maverick yell eject at them over and over is going to be added nightmare fodder he’s sure will enter rotation, something he can look forward to. He sits in the quiet of the room, turning when he hears footsteps.

Maverick.

And no-one else around to act as a buffer.

Well shit.

He’s tired and already emotionally raw, doesn’t want to talk to him right now.

“They’ll keep Phoenix and Bob in the hospital overnight for observation. They’re gonna be okay.”

“That’s good. I’ve never lost a wing man.”

“You’re lucky. Fly long enough, it’ll happen. There will be others.”

“Easy for you to say,” Bradley bites out. “No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.”

He feels detached from what he’s saying, but the anger is all still there, and he feels justified in that at least, although he’s also lying. As much as he might be angry, he’d still grieve Maverick if he died. Of course Maverick tries to be calm and rational and instead of calming him down it has the opposite effect, and he’s snapping out words again, and Maverick is snapping back and god, it’s a wonder Ice didn’t bang their heads together earlier.

“Maverick,” Warlock says, stopping them from screaming more hurtful things in each other’s faces.

Then he learns that Ice has died and of course bad things come in threes.

He leaves Maverick with Warlock and heads off into the dark for his base housing.

… … …

>>You know how I told you about my uncle?

>>The one with cancer?

>>Yeah?

>>He died. His funeral will be in a couple of days and I’m going to have to somehow not cry in front of everyone.

>>Would you give me your mobile number?

>>Why?

>>Because I’d really like to hear your voice. Talk to you properly.

>>I wouldn’t call until you gave me the go ahead.

>>I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.

>>I feel very alone.

>>I thought the other day was bad, but today has been so much worse.

He wanders around aimlessly, wonders if maybe he should bite the bullet and either go to the rec room and play the piano there, or see if the piano at his closed-up parent’s house is even playable. He’s half-dressed for bed, mind so far away he doesn’t register the knocking until it’s louder and more insistent and he heads to the door, opening it and half-expecting to find Maverick there.

“Hangman?”

“Rooster.”

“Uh. What are doing here?”

The look on Seresin’s face tells him he’s not exactly sure either, and the fact that he’s not certain is something he’s even more annoyed about.

“I just… I know your dad flew with Admiral Kazansky. I... I thought that maybe you might know him more than just as the COMPACFLT and be... I thought you might want company.”

“I...” Bradley starts, because he really does want the company right now, Natasha is in hospital, Coyote is with her because sometimes things like near-misses force you to reevaluate. Not that she can come, but he wouldn’t call her anyway, doesn’t want to rain on her happiness. Not when there is no guarantee of any future right now, the bird strike and g-Loc incidents both really driving home how dangerous their jobs are.

“Not anything else, by the way… just company.”

“No. I... Yeah. Company would be good. Thanks.”

“Also I figured I should take a leaf out of your book and apologize. I’m sorry. About bringing up your dad. That was a dick move.”

Bradley blinks.

“Um. Okay.”

“Right. Sleeping right? You want me to cuddle you?”

“Actually yeah, since you offered,” Bradley replies, giving Seresin a disparaging look but then takes in the fact that he’s dressed in sweats and a worn t-shirt, like he maybe come over after he’d already gotten ready for bed.

“Come on then, finish getting ready. Always waiting for you to catch up Bradshaw…”

“Yeah yeah, give me a minute.”

He shuffles around, puts on a t-shirt in deference to the fact that Seresin seems seriously intent on hopping into bed with him, and not for sex. He brushes his teeth and washes his face, unable to bring himself to do any more. His mind is thinking about Sarah and the kids and grandkids. Funerals, oh which he feels like he’s been to too many. He folds himself into the bed, his head and body already feel heavy and weighed down and he cannot believe he’s watching Seresin of all people turn off the lights and then slide into bed beside him, his arm settling over his waist like a drag sail.

“Go to sleep Bradshaw, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

… … …

Despite everything he has one of the best nights’ sleep he’s had in a long time, and he can’t put it down to the sheer emotional exhaustion of the last couple of days. He woke up several times during the night, not used to having someone else in the bed, but each time Seresin had been there, arm settled around Bradley like he was holding him together. He’s not there now though, but Bradley can hear someone in the kitchen and it can’t be anyone else but Seresin. He stands and stretches, feels his back and neck click and reaches for his phone, feels a little swoop of happiness when he sees he has a message.

>>I don’t want you to be alone right now either.

He grins and quickly types out a response as he heads to the kitchen.

“Hey, morning.”

“Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Uh. Better. Thanks,” Bradley offers, because he’s a little unsettled by this softer and more accommodating version of Seresin.

“Here,” Seresin says, and he slides a mug of coffee across to him. It’s not his usual mug, but that’s okay. The mug isn’t the important part, and he snaps a quick picture.

“What are you doing?”

“Um. Just taking a photo of my coffee,” Bradley states, looking up as Seresin makes a slight choking sound. “Thanks by the way, for the coffee and for staying last night. I really needed the company.”

“Yeah. Uh. Anytime. I’ve got to go. Glad you’re feeling better Bradshaw.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks… see you later…” Bradley says, voice trailing off as Hangman flees like he’s on fire.

Weird.

He takes a sip of his coffee and blinks in surprise.

It’s perfect.

… … …

He drags himself through his morning routine and heads to Ice’s house, needs to see Sarah and the others, the only family he has. Or at least that he’s currently talking to in civil tones. He lets himself get hugged as he hugs them all in return, they’re all talking in soft mumbles with empty platitudes he knows don’t ease the grief. But being with others who are also grieving helps. He’s allowed to feel sad and miss him when he’s surrounded by people who feel exactly the same way.

Sarah is poised and calm, her red eyes the only thing belying the fact that she’s been crying plenty. He’s sitting down talking to Samantha, Ice’s eldest daughter, when Sarah finds him and presses an envelope into his hands.

“He wanted me to give this to you as quickly as possible after his passing. I think he was adding it to it just yesterday…”

His throat goes tight and he runs his fingers along the crisp edge of the envelope, swallows and then gives up, lets the tears fall and hugs her back tightly as she presses a kiss to the top of his head, feels Samantha hug him from the side. He guesses he has some reading to do.

… … …

Dear Bradley,

If you are reading this it’s because I’m dead. Now, as outcomes go, this isn’t what either of us wanted, I’m sure. I’m glad I only had one rule with you as a teenager, and that you listened to me. This is the natural progression of things, children having to bury their parents. I am sorry that you have had to do this so often though, your life has not often been fair to you. There is one silver lining of being a dead man, and that’s getting a dying wish. Your mother had a dying wish you see, and I didn’t agree with what she wanted, but I had to respect it. It was her dying wish after all. And now this is mine, so if I meet her in the afterlife, then I know she’s not going to be able to hold it over me.

I want you to know that she never wanted you to fly.

She asked Maverick to pull your papers.

I tried to convince both of them that it was a terrible idea. But your mother became very difficult to argue with, being dead and all, and well, Maverick is one of the most stubborn and pig-headed men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m glad I’ve been able to count him as being a friend, because having him as an enemy would be ten times worse (and it was already pretty trying some days, as you can imagine). Anyway, I could already envision what would happen, you get your own stubborn and pig-headedness honestly at least, and it was then polished by being raised by Maverick after your mom passed.

Now, I am not asking you to forgive Maverick. However I am asking you to try. He loves you and cares for you, but what he is most terrified about is failing both of your parents. He thinks they’d be perfect parents, so holds himself up to that ideal. He thinks he needs to be perfect. Being a parent myself I know that’s impossible, I’ve just tried my best to make decisions based from a place of love and support. Maverick has always tried to make his decisions based on what he thinks your parents would want for you. Your mom didn’t want you to fly and yet here you are. And Maverick has to see that and know he failed her. And he failed you. And he will always believe he failed your father.

I never had to second guess my parenting decisions, even if I would later make a different decision with hindsight. I knew I made the best decision I could at the time with the information I had, making it from a place of love, then I couldn’t really regret it. Maverick second guesses everything when it comes to you. For all his don’t think, just do bullshit, he overthinks everything when it comes to you.

One of your parents gave you anything and everything you wanted, because he only saw you for a few months of your entire life. In between all the training and deployments, it just wasn’t enough. He loved you, do not ever doubt that, and he’d be so proud of the man you are today. I believe he would have supported you going to USNA with his whole heart. He’d be proud of you being a naval aviator. He would love that you were a pilot.

Your mother had to become both parents and then manage your early teen years and at the same time she wanted to protect you from everything bad in the world. She couldn’t protect you from losing your father, or then losing her, and I am sure she thought she was protecting you by asking Maverick to pull your USNA papers. However neither of your parents knew you as well as Maverick knew you, and yet he tasked himself with an impossible task.

So you have had a parent who only knew you really as a baby, another as a child, then another as a young man and now you’re an adult with a life and career of his own. You might have a better chance of getting Maverick into therapy than I ever did, simply by asking him. I am proud that you go. That you listened and took my advice. It’s always nice to be right. It’s been a pleasure watching you grow into the man you are today, and I know you will continue to grow.

Having you back in my life has been one of my joys. Getting to know you again, share stories with you. I’ve written a lot more down for you, and there’s a box with your name on it. Lots of photos because I’m old and we had film cameras. Make all the old jokes you want, I’m dead and I don’t care. Growing old is a luxury for some, and I am glad I got as far as I did. Anyway, I think Samantha might be digitizing the photos. Ask her. Please stay in touch with them all. You are a part of our family, even if it didn’t feel that way for you for some years. You are always welcome, never forget that. I want you to be in each other’s lives again. Maverick’s as well. You need him even if you think you don’t. And he needs you too. You’re both going to get invitations to Kazansky family gatherings, and it’s going to be awkward if you’re not talking to each other. At least give it a try. That’s all I’m asking.

Never forget how loved you are Bradley.

By all of your parents.

Ice

Saw you flying today. Made me so proud. Also made me wish I could have flown with you. Watching you fly is like watching the best of myself and Maverick. He is very unhappy with me about the mission. Doesn’t want to have to make the choice. He views it as lose-lose all round, which might be true. I hope it isn’t, for both your sakes. If I have any say in it you’ll all return safely home. I’m tired, so I’m going to go to bed now. Love you kid.

… … …

They’ve been given the day off, which seems a little ridiculous considering how close the mission is. He’s immeasurably glad though, he feels shaky and emotionally raw, and he still has to get through the funeral and somehow process the whole shifting worldview that his mom made Maverick promise. That Maverick wouldn’t just tell him that confuses him, what would he do? Hate his mom for wanting to keep him safe? He just doesn’t get it. He opens his phone, not really having had a chance to look at it since the morning after he’d sent his coffee picture. Jas hadn’t replied by the time he left to go to Ice’s house, but when he opens his phone now he can see he has a couple of new notifications. The coffee cup in reply looks familiar and he realizes it’s his coffee cup. The one he usually uses except this morning… What the hell?

He opens up Grindr and clicks on the new message, is pretty sure he knows what to expect when it displays and there it is.

>>I’m in the Dagger Squad.

Just like that his world tilts on its axis again and he stares at the five words. Closes it and then reopens the app. Reads the words again. Actually turns off his phone and forces it to re-start. The words stay the same.

JAS.

Born in 1986.

Texan.

God he’s an idiot.

Not just in the navy, he’s a Naval aviator.

A photo of his own coffee cup sent back to him from this morning.

He’s laughing at his own stupidity and he’s already cried so much today but he feels like he might just burst into tears again, his emotions all too exposed and he needs to find out where Jas-Jake-Seresin, (what the hell does he call him now?), lives. He rings Natasha, knows she’s still with Coyote. Coyote will know where Jake, (Jake feels right? Maybe?), lives. Because it’s not on base. Of course Coyote won’t give him the address and Bradley feels like screaming. Tells him to ask Jake, then to text it through to him when he gives it to him. He’s that certain Jake will give it to him. He could just ask himself, but he also doesn’t want to give Jake an opportunity to ignore him. Not that he thinks he will.

Last night suddenly makes a lot more sense, now that he thinks about it. No one else would have known about Ice passing, and yet Jake turned up, because he’d figured it out. God. When did he figure it out? He’s trying to reconcile Jas and Jake Seresin in his head. The brash confident and arrogant naval aviator he knows and has had plenty of sex with, and Jas, the open, vulnerable and sweetly-sassy man that he’s… also had plenty of sex with. Well. At least he knows they can handle the long-distance aspect of any relationship. God he really wants to see him now.

The address comes through and he taps it into his phone, following the directions as he drives, wishes it was closer. He doesn’t bother telling Jake he’s on his way, he already knows because Coyote has given Bradley his address. With permission. He pulls up and it’s a newly built block of condos, and he has to look for a carpark for too long before he finds one. He lets himself feel annoyed at the poor planning, grateful that it pushes the grief and shocked-joy just to the side for a moment, no matter how brief. It allows him to gather his bearings as he walks up the pavement and knocks on the door. While he waits for an answer, he wonders if he should send a message. Why the hell not.

>>Answer the door Jas.

>>Give me one good reason.

>>I love you.

>>Now please answer the door.

“Hi.”

He stands there and just… looks. Jake’s wearing exactly the same clothes as when he left Bradley’s place earlier today, and he looks soft. A little scared and Bradley realizes that he’s maybe worried that Bradley might be disappointed somehow. He reaches out, slow enough that Jake can stop him, or step away; cups his cheek in his hand, runs a thumb over the apple of his cheek. Wants to enfold him in a hug and be hugged in return.

“Thank you.”

“Uh. You’re welcome?”

“You want to know what I’m thanking you for?”

“Sure.”

“My second chance. Always planned on thanking you in person.”

“Um. Yeah.”

Bradley bites his lip, won’t mention aloud the groveling and body worship that Jas had mentioned, is sure that Jake might not yet be in a place to hear him say words out loud. Written word is something completely different. He wants to kiss him, definitely wants to carry out the body worship, but he feels like they’re all the way at the beginning, needing to feel each other out a little bit, emotionally that is.

“Can I hug you?”

“Yeah, of course. Come in and close the door.”

Of all the hugs he’s had today this one feels the best, firm, grounding and warm. Both of Jake’s arms around him, head resting against Bradley’s shoulder while his nose and mouth press against the side of his head. He presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“When did you figure it out?” Bradley asks.

“When did I suspect, or when did I know? Because there’s kind of different stages I went through…”

“Yeah? Want to share? Because I… needed you to point it out apparently.”

“Always a little slow Bradshaw…”

“Oh my god I’m never going to live this down am I?”

“Nope. Probably not.”

“Okay. I’m okay with that. Come on. Blow me away with your superior intellect…”

“You want to have this conversation while we hug in my entryway?”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

“Oh. I have a sofa? Or a, uh, bed?”

“How about we start on the sofa. Can we both fit?”

“Worth a try…”

He makes himself comfortable in the corner and then holds out his arms, silently inviting Jake to curl up in them, to settle himself in the v of his legs. He desperately wants to be holding him again and hopes he equally wants to be held. Fortunately Jake seems to, relaxes against him and Bradley feels a sense of contentedness well up inside him. They’re both facing the same direction and part of him is glad; feels like it might be a little too overwhelming to have this coming conversation face-to-face. It’s like a compromise between being online versus facing each other.

“So… what was your first clue?”

“Uh, your shirt at the Hard Deck. Payback made a comment about how it wouldn’t be possible to miss seeing you arrive and it pinged something in my mind, about when we were meant to met up. You said I wouldn’t miss you…”

“Ugh. You mean the time I stood you up to sleep with… you. I’m still very sorry about that by the way.”

“Well, I’ve sort of made my peace with it. I mean, I can stop being jealous about the other guy at least…”

Bradley huffs in amusement, tightens his arms around him a little.

“Oh… When you asked whether I was going to apologize about fashion crimes. That was you sounding me out.”

“Trying at least. You blanked me so I figured it was just a coincidence.”

“Okay… then what?”

“Um. I saw a photo of your dad. Nicholas Bradshaw.”

“Nick.”

“And Bradley Bradshaw. NickNick. Stupid double-barreled names. Then I remembered your first username, and you hating the name Pete… And how you really don’t like Maverick. Lots of coincidences that just suddenly were too many to just ignore and they made sense.”

“Yeah…” Bradley breathes, smiling against Jake’s hair. He likes that Jake has been paying such close attention, would never have thought it of Seresin or Hangman, but it’s definitely Jake through and through.

“So… Uh. I suspected and then seeing that photo kind of confirmed it. Your moustache and how you said you look like him. Your dad I mean. You do look a lot like him. Anyway, I thought you knew who I was, and you were making fun of me.”

“What? Never...”

Jake twists to give him a look, eyebrow raised in disbelief and Bradley shakes his head.

“Not about this,” Bradley stresses.

“So, I suspected, and then I thought you knew and hadn't told me and I got so angry...”

“You picked a fight,” Bradley says with dawning realization, because he’s fucking been there and done the same thing, like picking at a wound.

“I wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry.”

“I swear I had no idea.”

“Oh yeah, I know that now. Last night when I turned up... I almost asked you. Last night was when I started to realize that you really had no idea.”

“Gorgeous and smart…” Bradley says, and he’s never seen Jake blush before, but he’s doing it now, his face going pink from the corner of Bradley’s eye. “And then my coffee cup picture from this morning... Shit. That’s when you really realized I was truly fucking clueless.”

“Yeah. And I needed to figure out a way of telling you but I had no idea how…”

“Well, you did a good job telling me. You made my coffee perfectly and I still didn’t put it all together.”

“Still took you long enough to get here though.”

“Oh, I didn’t check the messages until about an hour ago. I messaged Coyote pretty much immediately. Did you think it took me that long to figure it out after you told me you were in the Dagger Squad?”

“Well, it has been about four hours.”

“No! I’ve been at Ice’s all morning. Spending time with the family.”

Jake makes a choking sound.

“You’re actually… family?”

“Yeah,” Bradley says with a quiet sigh. “After my mom died and when Mav was deployed I lived with Ice and his family. When I left Mav I pretty much left Ice too. I made up with him a few years ago. Here. Read this…”

He shifts awkwardly and pulls the letter out of his pocket, pulling Jake back into his arms and handing it to him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I have literally no secrets from you.”

He reads it again over Jake’s shoulder, let’s himself cry again and tries to not feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s holding Jake and crying. He’s allowed to feel emotions. He’s not an automaton.

“Jesus Bradley…”

It’s the first time Jake has said his name and he lets out another little hiccupping cry, but it has happiness behind it this time, not that Jake can tell and he lets out a little laugh of just how ridiculous the whole situation is.

“Yeah. Ever had emotional whiplash? I think that’s what I’m experiencing today. It’s pretty fucking rough.”

“Stay here tonight. Hell. Did you sleep okay last night? You said you didn’t want to be alone…”

“Last night was great. Exactly what I needed thank you. And yeah, I’ll stay here. Might need to borrow some clothes.”

“Or we can just… go to bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ni-, Ro, Bradley… I do not want to waste any more time, especially considering how much time we might not have.”

Fuck. Now there’s a depressing thought. Although it also seems like Jake is having the same internal battle about what to call him as he’s been having.

“What’s your middle name?”

“What?”

“I’ve been calling you Jas in my head for so long, when I get angry with you I’m going to need to full name you…”

“Jacob Andrew Seresin.”

“Bradley Peter Bradshaw. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jake says, but he’s turning, shifting to face him and Bradley smiles, knows he probably looks messy with fresh tear tracks, but he’s smiling at him and Jake is smiling back.

“We were so close so many times weren’t we…”

“Yep. Think it had some silver linings though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Bradley asks, because he’s curious.

“Don’t want to think about some of them right now. Want to take you to bed.”

“Yeah. Lead the way…”

… … … Every touch is reverent, and he hasn’t slept with anyone in a long while, not since he last slept with Jake in fact, which has him realizing that he hasn’t done anything sexual with anyone but Jake for… nearly three years. Huh. He’ll share that little tidbit of information later, when he’s not sliding his hands under Jake’s t-shirt and working it up off his body. Jake’s working Bradley’s clothes off, and he doesn’t usually feel the need to check in, not when it’s the middle of the day, both completely sober, but he still needs to, the emotions of everything making it a necessity.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's okay. This isn’t our first fucking time…”

Bradley grins, lets himself press his body against Jake’s, letting them both lower their bodies into Jake’s bed. He’ll pay more attention to Jake’s room and bed when he no longer wants to give absolutely every bit of his attention to the man under his hands and mouth.

“Sorry if I want to cater to my body worshipping kink…”

“Selfish,” Jake says, his voice breathy and Bradley bites at his collarbone lightly.

“Yeah. Very selfish. You should totally kick me to the curb.”

“Mmm. See if you can convince me otherwise…”

He feels a happy and excited swoop of pleasure that Jake seems playful, happy in himself to have Bradley in his bed, to stay in his bed for more than just sex.

“I love you,” Bradley murmurs, and he kisses a trail down Jake's neck, then back up. Lets his fingers touch everywhere he can reach, captures Jake’s mouth in a kiss as he grinds his hips down, feels Jake’s mouth gasp open and he licks into it. They’ve had sex with each other a lot, but it’s never quite felt this heavy. Like every touch, every shift of their bodies against each other, carries with it a little bit extra weight, extra meaning.

“I love you.”

There are definite benefits to already being familiar with Jake’s body, knowing how he responds, what he likes. It’s been long enough since they last slept together than it’s all novel and new, while also having the deep-rooted feeling of familiarity and sense of homecoming. He wants to worship every inch of him, Jake seems more than willing to let him. The fact he can pepper his actions with I love you is exhilarating, being able to both show Jake and tell him in equal measure.

He knows he can make Jake come twice, wants to take him apart and hold him together, give him absolutely everything. God, all the things he’s fantasized about are now potential things they can explore together and he grins into the jut of Jake’s hips, sucks little kisses as he teases along the band of his underwear.

“Off off, get them off…”

“It’s been months, or years, depending on how you count. What’s a few more minutes? You know I like the anticipation and building up.”

“Fuck off, you can edge me another time. I know you want to. Right now I want you to make me come.”

“Demanding.”

“Damn right.”

He pulls Jake’s underwear down and sucks the head of his cock into his mouth as he continues to work the underwear down his thighs. It’s a little uncoordinated, Jake trying to help by thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting the back of Bradley’s throat so suddenly he gags, unprepared, digs his fingers into his hip to stop him from doing it again as he pulls the underwear off and throws it elsewhere. He feels Jake’s fingers running through his hair, deliberately ignores the subtle direction to go faster, slows down and grins when he hears Jake groan and mumble asshole under his breath. Jake groans again, his whole body tensing then relaxing under him and Bradley lets himself finally speed up.

He shifts, kneels between Jake’s spread legs so he can get an unobstructed view up his torso, can watch his face as Bradley gets his hands and mouth all over him. His fingers encircle Jake’s cock and he works fast, mouth and tongue licking over his balls before sucking the head back into his mouth. Jake is watching him, mouth open, chest shuddering with broken breaths and Bradley feels a swell of sudden and immense gratitude that he gets to have this. That Jake is allowing him to have it.

“I love you,” he says, his eyes not leaving Jake’s as he opens his mouth and sucks Jake down again, lets Jake’s hips thrust up, ready for it this time and shivers at how gorgeous Jake sounds saying his name. He works his hand faster, presses a knuckle against his perinium, licks and sucks his balls and it’s a tight fit but Jake just stretches his legs wider to give him more space to work. He sees the muscles in Jake’s stomach clench, loves that he knows that that’s one of Jake’s tells, that he’s close to coming. Then he is, shooting up over Bradley’s fist, hitting his chest and stomach.

“I love you,” Bradley says again, it becomes like a prayer as he runs his hands over his calves and thighs, presses kisses up his inner thigh and his balls again. His eyes haven’t left Jake’s. He licks up Jake’s stomach, cleaning up Jake’s come as he goes, smirks at the little broken sound Jake makes. Wonders if he should have said something about the lack of condom this time, but hopes that Jake simply trusts him. Three fucking years.

“God I love you…” Bradley whisper, wants, needs, Jake to know the truth of him. Jake kisses him, tongue seeking out every groove between his teeth, moaning against him and he realizes he’s maybe getting off on the taste of himself in Bradley’s mouth. God they’re going to be able to explore and try so much more now that they have the trust that exists between them. Something he knew he wanted, and to have it, he feels so damn lucky.

Both of Jake’s hands are in his hair, he’s being kissed so thoroughly, Jake’s grinding his hips up against him where he’s partially holding himself above him. Then one of Jake’s hands is on his ass, gripping and pulling and oh. He grinds down, presses his erection against Jake and grins into his mouth.

“Why are you still wearing underwear?” Jake complains.

“Mmm… was too busy getting reacquainted with your body.”

He loves the torn expression on Jake’s face, clearly wants to argue some point, but also can’t think of anything that he can argue about. Instead he digs his fingers into Bradley’s ass cheek and rolls his hips and Bradley moans, much closer than he thought he was. He wants to drag this out, continue re-learning every inch of Jake’s body with all his years of knowledge he’s acquired.

“Come on, want to get my mouth on you… take you fucking underwear off.”

Oh. This isn’t quite going the way he had planned in his head, but he stands and quickly strips off the garment which Jake has been scowling at. He’s more than okay doing what Jake wants as well. He follows Jake’s annoyed muttering directions until he’s straddling his chest, head of his cock a mere inch above Jake’s mouth. It’s a fucking gorgeous sight and his mouth is dry as he watches Jake, eyes dark, and then the tight warm heat of Jake’s mouth takes him in and he groans, his hips twitching reflexively. Then Jake’s hands are on his hips, encouraging him and his eyes fall shut as he lets himself start rolling his hips, the suction around his cock tight and warm. He opens his eyes to look at Jake, to give himself a visual to what he’s feeling and experiencing and –

“Oh god… Jake. Fuck.”

He pulls out sharply, not able to give any warning before he’s coming. Not that coming all over Jake’s face and neck is any better than coming in his mouth, but he’s not going to assume. His breath is coming in panting gasps, his body shaking and he puts a hand down to hold himself up, stares and Jake’s eyes carefully open and Bradley shifts down, needs to be kissing him again. He cleans up his own come this time, peppers his licks with kisses and murmured I love yous against the shell of Jake’s ear. It’s not what he had planned maybe, but it’s no less perfect. They’re going to need a shower, and he can’t wait to introduce that new level of intimacy into their relationship. He settles beside him, pulls up the sheet and reaches out to place a hand on his waist, fingers brushing softly.

“So… It’s nice to finally meet you. Properly I mean…” Bradley says, eyes searching Jake’s face and he’s smiling and feeling fond and content. Soft, he realizes, thinking about Natasha’s word she uses to describe him sometimes, especially the last couple of years when he’s been working at getting better at being more in touch with his emotions.

“I love you,” Jake says, and like hearing his name for the first time Bradley feels like he’s going to burst. At the same time it’s like Jake Hangman Seresin melts away and Jas is there, eyes wet with unshed tears and he kisses him again, feels the wetness slide over the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much.”

“Can’t believe it took us this long.”

“You know we could have avoided all this if we'd just told each other our names...” Bradley says, because he’s definitely going to dig a little. He’s still him.

“Names? We could have sent each other photos of our faces…”

“Neither of which you wanted by the way. So I’m making you take the blame for just how long it took. But you also get the credit for figuring it out…”

“Damn right I do.”

“Love you Jake…”

“God you’re a sap…”

“Only with you.”

Jake blushes and Bradley smirks, because genuine sincerity is apparently the way to make him a complete mess.

… … …

Their day back at training after Ice’s funeral he feels more settled and is immediately thrown off balance again by the fact that Maverick isn’t there. He sits there in disbelief as he hears Admiral Simpson outline new parameters and agrees with every muttered and under-the-breath comment. A little distracted by the noise coming in over the radio.

“Uh, Maverick, range control, uh, green range is confirmed. I don’t see an event scheduled for you, sir.”

“Well, I’m going anyway.”

“Nice,” Natasha murmurs and Bradley rolls his eyes. Of fucking course everyone is already impressed with him. He hasn’t even fucking done anything yet.

“Setting time to target: Two minutes fifteen seconds.”

“Two-fifteen? That’s impossible.”

Bradley agrees in principle, however he also knows that Maverick knows himself. He wouldn’t set a time like that if he didn’t truly believe he could fly it. Jake turns around and smirks at him, as if to say this is your fucked up family and Bradley subtly gives him the finger, although inwardly he feels thrilled that he has someone with him, that knows him so well and his whole bullshit relationship with Mav. It’s such a relief, especially now that Ice is gone.

“Final attack point. Maverick’s inbound.”

He looks around the room, and he understands why everyone is so invested. If Maverick can do this then it proves it’s actually possible. He already knows it is, Maverick wouldn’t be trying to teach them if he didn’t think it wasn’t possible. But the others need to know it. Know it like he does.

“Popping in three, two, one.”

He leans forward, can feel the tension in the room mounting.

“Bombs away.”

Seconds tick by.

“Bull’s-eye!” “Holy shit!” “Yes.”

“Damn.”

Damn indeed.

He knows then, looking at Cyclone and Warlock’s faces that they’re probably going to send Maverick. Make him team lead. Which means either he's going, or Jake is going. There aren’t any guarantees and he can't believe their actual time together may only be counted in days.

… … …

By mutual agreement they don’t talk about it. They also don’t mention anything to anyone else, instead sequestering themselves away at his family home that no-one knows about except Mav, who definitely won’t be looking. They have to air it out, and deal with the dust and cobwebs, but’s it’s not as bad as it could be and he wonders if he has something else to retroactively thank Ice for, even if he can’t anymore. They buy new sheets and pillows and the entire house soon smells of them and sex and takeout food, neither of them wanting to waste time cooking when they can just be holding each other.

He keeps up his morning cup of coffee picture, tells Jake he doesn’t ever want him to doubt how he feels about him, even when he’s lying in bed and the cup of coffee in question is brought to him by a nearly naked Jake. Tells him the view that comes with his morning cup of coffee is much improved. The time they have together might be short but he’s going to make the most of every moment they have together.

… … …

“It has been an honor flying with you. Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that and nothing more.”

He feels sick. He doesn’t care about flying and proving Mav wrong. Not anymore. He just doesn’t want Jake to go and then not come back. He has no idea who Mav will choose, and he knows Jake feels the same about him going. They’re both good. But there are so many things that can go wrong. There’s a reason why Mav has been listing off fucking miracles.

“Choose your two foxtrot teams.”

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

“And your wing man?”

“Rooster.”

The relief he feels is immediate, knowing that Jake is going to be safe. Is going to live. It’s immense. The look of on Jake’s makes him feel sick though, because he knows it’s exactly what he’d be feeling if Jake had just been named Maverick’s wingman instead. They find a quiet spot and Jake kisses him like he’s trying to climb inside his body, Bradley presses them together like he’d let him climb inside if he could. Then they’re having to head up on deck.

“Give em hell,” Jake says, and he doesn’t need to say any more, he can see the unspoken words in his eyes and tense line of his jaw. You come back to me, you have to come back to me. He nods in understanding, an unspoken promise.

… … …

He can’t lose his last parent, not now.

God.

If he survives this Jake is definitely going to kill him.

And he’s probably going to get kicked out of the Navy.

He hopes Jake will be okay with him being unemployed.

… … …

“You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You all right?”

Then he’s being pushed to the ground and he winces at the pain in his ribs, his head swimming a bit. Fuck. He thinks he has a concussion.

“What the hell?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?

“You think I took that missile so you could be down here with me? You should be back on the carrier by now!”

“I saved your life!”

“I saved your life! That’s the whole point! What the hell were you even thinking?”

“You told me not to think!” Bradley snaps, because he’s got tone on him now, the fucking self-righteous asshole. They both pant, catching their breath and just stare at each other for a few moments, and he still doesn’t really know how he’s going to relearn how to not be constantly angry or upset with Maverick.

“Well, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Bradley states, because he’s meant to be building bridges, not yelling, no matter how much of an idiot he thinks Maverick is.

“So what’s the plan?”

Maverick is insane.

That’s the plan.

No sane person would think this was somehow feasible.

“You’re not serious.”

He’s thinking about Ice’s letter, talking about how he was always glad to have Maverick on his side, because it beat having Maverick as an enemy and god he hopes that still remains true. That Maverick has some infinite well of good luck. Or a guardian angel. Hopefully both.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. An F-14?”

“I shot down three migs in one of those.”

“We don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly.”

“Let’s find out.”

“Mav!” Bradley calls out, but he’s already hustling away. “Oh for fucks’ sake…” Bradley mutters under his breath as he heaves his aching body up and convinces himself that he has to follow Mav. Does he not have pain receptors? Surely he’s aching at least half as badly as Bradley is.

“There’s guys up there, Mav.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s more over there.”

“Okay. Let’s start running.”

“Yeah, run. Run.”

He feels like he’s stepped back in time, the hangar holding the enemy F14 rusty. His body coursing with adrenaline and Maverick is looking crazy-eyed. Bradley knows the feeling.

“Once… once I give you the signal for air, you’re gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to 120. When the engine starts, you got to pull out the pins and disconnect everything. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

Then Maverick is running around and Bradley’s glad that he apparently knows what he’s doing. He thinks of Ice and how he’d always said how crazy Maverick was. He’d always sort of thought he was exaggerating for the sake of telling a good story but is starting to think he downplayed some of the more dangerous shit that Mav has taken part of. It’s a little terrifying to think about. He hops into the back of the F-14 and stares at all the dials and little screens, only vaguely familiar. Maybe from a visit to a fucking museum. He’s starting to really believe that Mav lives the not thinking aspect of his motto, because when he questions the wings coming out, raises entirely valid concerns about it being a taxiway he is just plain ignored. No. He gets told to hang on, like he has another option or any say in the matter.

“Holy shit!”

Holy shit seems to be his inner and outer mantra for the next few moments, Maverick intent on having a one-sided conversation that he doesn’t need to contribute to, which is just as well because he has nothing of value to add. The way Maverick asks him to get in touch with the boat is infuriating, like it’s a simple press of a button like a kid’s walkie-talkie. Nothing is fucking working, and he doesn’t know enough to get it working. He has to ask, feels like Mav is teaching him how to drive all over again, and that was an unmitigated disaster until Ice and Sarah took over.

“Throw the, uh… The uhf-2 circuit breaker. Try that.”

“There’s 300 breakers back here. Anything more specific?”

“I don’t know. That was your dad’s department.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Bradley mutters, and he continues looking, only to see something out of the corner of his eye and he freezes for a micro-second. “Mav, tally two, five o’clock low. What do we do?”

No one is ever going to believe him that Mav’s plan here is wave and smile. He follows the instructions though, can hardly believe that it somehow buys enough time for Mav’s brain to speed through however many options he thinks he has. Bradley doesn’t know how many he’s got, he can’t get past the idea that he’s going to die. Again. The idea of dying. Not actual dying. Maybe it’s just a day where he’s going to constantly think he’s going to die, but never actually does. Fuck he really really hopes so. He will live with the nightmares if he doesn’t actually have to die.

“All right, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head. That’s the ejection handle.”

“Mav, can we outrun these guys?”

“Not their missiles and guns.”

“Then it’s a dogfight.”

“An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?”

“It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot. You’d go after them if I wasn’t here,” Bradley states, absolutely certain of the fact. The taxiway was apparently easy and not risky at all. Holy shit his mind supplies.

“But you are here,” Mav counters.

“Come on, Mav. Don’t think. Just do.”

God he hopes he doesn’t die. Then Mav has shot one of them down and he can’t believe it, warns him about the next one, feels helpless without the option to fire his own missiles. Watching the fifth-gen fighter in action is unreal and god he wants to fly one. Then they’re getting low and heading back into the canyon area, heading out toward the sea, so at least in the general direction of the boat at least. He’s grateful that the terrain does seem to confuse the targeting system, that they still haven’t been shot down and he knows if he lives through this he will need to thank Mav every day. Fuck. If Ice is somehow watching he’ll make sure it happens just to ensure they make up. It would be a power move from him for sure.

When the second fifth-gen plane goes down, the pilot ejecting just before it smashes into the side of the canyon walls Bradley feels his heart start beating again, like his entire body has been in stasis for however long that all took. It probably wasn’t longer than a couple of minutes, but it feels like a lifetime and the briefest moment in time all at once. Through some miracle he gets the radio working, and if anyone asks him what he did he won’t be able to tell them. He attempts to get in touch with the boat, but he’s not sure if it’s working two-way, too distracted by the sudden beeping indicating the location of a bogey and he looks for it, knows he needs to be another set of eyes. Why can they not catch a fucking break? The fifth generation fighter appearing on their nose is a blow, as is them running out ammo, then flares. Nothing left to offer even the smallest splinter of hope. The plane is taking hits and he’s glad they built them to withstand hits because they would be dead by now. Then Mav is talking about gaining altitude and ejecting and he listens this time, pulls the handles desperately, his stomach sinking when nothing happens, the ejection function clearly broken.

“I’m sorry, Goose.”

Oh shit. He can almost feel the waves of Mav’s guilt, that his death is going to be as his back seater just like his dad. He feels like throwing up, not advisable and he’s not going to be alive to have to do anything about it –

BOOM.

The explosion, cloud of black smoke, vibrations and then the new jet appearing all happen simultaneously. Then the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions… And prepare for landing.”

“Hey, Hangman, you look good.”

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. I’ll see you back on deck.”

He’s pretty sure there’s a threat in there but he could cry he’s so relieved and happy. Soon the adrenaline coursing through his body is going to stop and he’s going to hit a wall but Jake will be there. Mav will be there.

He’s alive.

Nothing else matters.

… … …

Having working engines to land matter.

He’s once again very glad that Mav is the one flying.

Fuck this shit.

… … …

He’s never crash landed on a deck before and he never wants to do it again. He wonders if people have bucket lists of things they don’t want to have happen, but which have happened anyway. Sounds like it might make for depressing lists.

“You good?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” Bradley says, but he’s already thinking about saying similar words to Jake. Searches for him as he steps down from the F-14, his legs wobbly, body aching and head starting to pitch like he’s in a storm. He spies Jake, can’t help but smile at him goofily. He looks so good and he wants to kiss him. It’s probably not a good idea.

“Chalked yourself another kill.”

“That makes two,” Jake says, and Bradley will save the fact that he now technically has three for a day when he needs to bring Jake down a peg. Or when he needs to remind him that he had no choice, because taking life is not a thrill either of them particularly want.

“Mav has five. Makes him an ace.”

Bradley shakes his head, because he’s pretty sure Mav doesn’t like the idea that he’s killed people either, although again he expects similar sage advice to don’t think if he ever asks him about it. Maybe he might surprise him though. He calls out to him, glad they’re at least going to have a chance of mending their relationship and he smiles, starting to feel the world tilt again.

“Thank you for saving my life.

“It’s what my dad would’ve done,” Bradley says, and he knows it’s the truth. The hug he gets has him wincing and Jake hasn’t stepped further away than a couple of feet, has clearly been watching him carefully, is pushing his way towards him, his hands running over Bradley's face and torso in concern and he presses his face into his hand, suddenly feeling like sleep would be a really good thing to do right now.

“You need to go to the fucking sickbay.”

“Uh… Something you want to share with the class Hangman?” Natasha asks.

“Yeah. I just saved his life, don't want him to fall off the fucking carrier and waste all my hard work.”

“Come on, take me to sickbay.”

“Okay, that’s weird... Maybe he's concussed,” Natasha says.

“Oh, he’s definitely concussed,” Maverick says, and Bradley wants to argue, but Jake’s arm is around his waist and supporting him, leading him away from the noise.

Then they’re going down some steps, Jake turns at the bottom and reaches for him, kisses him and Bradley smiles and hums appreciatively, even with his brain feeling like it’s swimming in soup he’ll never turn down being kissed by Jake.

“I thought you were taking me to sickbay?”

“I am, but first I’m going to kiss you because I am so happy to see you alive. And I won’t yell at you, because I’m pretty sure you’ve got a concussion –”

“And broken ribs,” Bradley adds, because he’s pretty that where the pain is coming from.

“Jesus Rooster. I am so angry with you. How dare you risk yourself like that. You’re an idiot!”

“Your idiot though. I hope?”

“Yes you’re mine. Damn it. Come on, sickbay.”

“Thought you were going to kiss me?”

“I did, but then you mentioned broken ribs. And I’m thinking we’re going to have to get creative for a little bit while you mend… come on.”

… … …

Of course Mav ends up in the sick bay too, being forced to be looked over by an exasperated Cyclone and amused looking Warlock. Both clearly relieved that everyone is back alive, even if not well.

“So, how long have you two been together then?” Mav asks, and Bradley follows his gaze to his and Jake’s linked fingers. The fact that Jake hasn’t left his side. Yeah. That’s not subtle at all. He guesses they’re done with keeping it from everyone then. He’s more than okay with that.

“Couple of days.”

“Over a decade.”

They look at each other and both pull a face.

“It's complicated.”

Maverick looks between them and simply nods his head.

… … …

Jake doesn’t leave him alone, only when Natasha arrives and tells Jake to go and eat and have a shower does he actually go, kissing him quickly and throwing Natasha a wink as he leaves. She looks a bit worried and confused and he’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so much.

“So… you finally giving up on your penpal huh? Settling with Hangman?”

“What?”

“Your online boyfriend. You giving the thing with Hangman a go instead now? I thought you were… going with the guy online.”

“Uh. Not exactly. Jake is my online boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“The guy you’ve been… holy shit. You’ve been together for years and you’ve only just figured it out?”

Oh fuck, he realizes his mistake then, realizes he’s never going to hear the end of it. From both her and Jake both. And probably fucking Coyote too.

“Haven’t the two of you been fucking each other for like, the last three years?”

“Natasha!”

“Oh no, I have heard too many drunken ramblings about his ass to let this go. You owe me so many foot massages if you want me to keep this quiet.”

“Fuck.”

… … …

>>I need to tell you something.

>>Through Grindr?

>>Yeah well, it’s relevant I guess.

>>Wanted to tell you before I delete it off my phone.

>>I haven’t hooked up with anyone but you since 2016.

>>I mean, it’s either been you in person, or you on here. So no one but you.

“Really?” Jake asks, voice loud in the quiet of the room.

“Yeah, really.”

“Oh.”

“Mmm. You’re my first choice online and you’re my first choice in person so pretty much makes you my only choice…”

“Good. Just the way I like it.”

“Me too.”

2019 - Jake's POV

#online and anonymous #Hangster #Sereshaw #hangman x rooster #Top Gun Maverick fanfic

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punkpandapatrixk · 2 months

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Full Strawberry Moon in Capricorn ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Heey, has the Full Strawberry Moon caused you some level of fatigue? At least physically rather than mentally? It was in the sign of Capricorn last June 23. This FM brought a shake-up to the foundation of our routines and a sense of belonging. I hope you’ve been feeling more secure in terms of your job and finances, or at least in the way you get to schedule your work.

There’s this little thing that I’ve been saying to myself ever since the arrival of this FM: ‘I’ve decided now that I am stable and secure. I’m not anxious anymore. There’s nothing to worry about.’ I’ve been saying that for my finances, yes, but especially, about my place in the world. I’ve become even more certain that what I’m doing is contributing positively to the world around me, and I’m very happy about that :D

This Full Moon, the aenergy is all about dreams and manifestations of a stable, secure Life going forward as Workers of Light. Personally, I don’t know what’s going on with people who are not of the Light LOL I guess all the foundation of their Reality is simply crumbling because they haven’t worked on their traumas? *cough, Hollyweird, cough cough*

Anyway, this FM also brought in a huge-ass cosmic broom to sweep up even more karmic debris from your energetic field (even bloodline). Releasing yourself from the shackles of guilt and unworthiness so you can grow tall and reach the heights of the heavens. All that, so you can now focus on your legacy project—something important, and unique, which you’ve known for quite a while only you can do.

This Full Strawberry Moon in Capricorn is the time all these wishes and endeavours are blessed by the Light forces of the Universe. Workers of Light, this year is YOUR year! Stomp forward bravely!

IDEA: High Paying, Low Stress Feminine Careers by Beauty & Beyond

deck-bottom: XVII The Star Rx, Gold Astronomer (John Dee), Priestess of Strength

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Pile 1 – It’s Time to Nourish Your Body

security – 2 of Cups Rx

Oh, this is interesting. You know that 2 of Cups is a soulmate card, right? But here in reverse I’m getting that up until fairly recently you’ve given so much of yourself to the wrong soulmates. It could be that there was something in the air that convinced you that you’d met your tribe, friend group, or even the one and true significant other, but then the Universe did something and the truth was unveiled, and it was painful.

The, uh, disclosure, took quite a toll on your physical body, probably due to the shock or trauma. This could’ve eaten away at your self-worth, too, to some degree. You might’ve dealt with an affliction of an impostor syndrome after the incident. Emotionally, it was really hard. But now, the Full Strawberry Moon has swept away a huge chunk of that trauma and now you’re good LOL

Basically, you’re being assured by your Spirit Guides that everything is only getting better from here <3

stability – 10 of Wands

If you resonate with having been in isolation for quite a while, this is your confirmation that you’ve chosen well. I mean, I guess your Spirit Guides ushered you into isolation LOL But this isolation period is your recovery phase from all the lessons you’ve taken from the previous chapter of your Life. Your Spirit Guides are saying the past was not a mistake. You needed to experience those things to help you develop a stronger intuition.

It's part of your Life Scenario to meet many, indeed, Souls that you’d known in different incarnations, but they’re not necessarily your long-term Soul Tribe. It was more like meeting old friends, neighbours or students you’d interacted with in the past and now they’re just passing by to say hi or help you with a light task. They were never meant to stay for long. Because, your True Soul Family is elsewhere.

Know that. Feel that with your intuition. Accept their call. And have fun making your way to them, or inviting them to your space :D

worry-free – 6 of Wands

For some of you tuning into this Pile, you may have been in this isolation mode for a very long time. Your Spirit Guides are saying your time in hiding is almost over. Soon, you’re gonna be connecting with people again and be seen for all the wonderful work you’re able to produce now, and everybody around you is so gonna appreciate and admire you for all that you are. They’ll think you’re super wonderful and they’re gonna wanna hang out with you and all that stuff :D

Are you still afraid of some kind of a betrayal or abandonment from these connections? No, it doesn’t seem like that at all. Why? Because you’ve transcended above your self-worth issues; because now there’s something that you’re doing that you feel very proud of, at least confident about. You know your worth now, so you’re just naturally magnetising people who will also view you the same.

Take care of your body though. Don’t work too hard. Your body still needs to get used to a healthy routine so it gets stronger. A strong body supports a more stable emotional plane <3

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Enjoying Unwinding for a Moment

security – 7 of Wands Rx

Seems like you’ve been huuuuuustling for the longest time. This FM in Capricorn is saying you’ve done marvellously well, so please take a break now! XD It’s more like, gosh, you haven’t taken the time to smell the panna cotta at all. Chill out, bro. You’re gonna work yourself to death before you even get to enjoy any bit of your labour of love. If it’s not possible to take a break, at least delegate. You really don’t have to do it all alone~

There’s a bit of a message about learning to trust other people. In essence, also learning to trust the Universe. Trust that things won’t suddenly spin out of control just because you’re snoring one minute. You’re working on something important that can benefit other people as well, right? Even if ‘other people’ literally means only yourself at this moment, and your family in the future.

Trust that the work—or the intent to change jobs—you’re doing now is in alignment with your Highest Intended Good. And in that sense, everything is perfect. You can relax~

stability – 10 of Cups Rx

Other than the scenario involving work, it seems a bunch of you have simply been dealing with a sense of ‘burden’ that goes beyond just day-to-day work. I feel like there’s been so much dark clouds in your mind, covering all your senses and your perception of Reality. These dark clouds are just worries, anxieties, and a fear of rejection or shame from the people closest to you.

It feels like there’s an endeavour you know you must take, a decision you know you must make, but you’ve been so stressed out about how to balance what you want with what’s expected of you. This FM in Capricorn seems to have lifted a huge chunk of those gloomy clouds tho, and I’m seeing you’re more able to distance yourself from the opinions and influences of those who might disagree with you.

This time around, this year in fact, you’re prioritising yourself. There’s something very important that you must undertake, but first, peace of mind first.

worry-free – 6 of Cups Rx

It does seem that the majority of your concerns come from ‘people’ rather ‘situations’. Your interpersonal relationships were simply weighing you down because you feel so much empathy and gratitude towards the people whom, I get are meant to be left in the past. These are people in your early chapters of Life; they’re likely not gonna make an appearance in the next arc, babe.

So you’re being advised to let go with grace and gratitude. I feel like you’re this dragon who’s meant for something mega-important and mega-luxury but the people around you couldn’t understand that. Well, that’s OK. That doesn’t make them ‘bad’, right? You just aren’t each other’s people, apparently. Your people, in fact, are those who are just as weird as you.

As you move forward, you’re going to meet more of these people who will even help you in building your empire. For now though, just enjoy unwinding those stressful threads of expectations in your mind~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – This is Literally Where It All Starts

security – Page of Pentacles Rx

You’ve dedicated a huge chunk of your Life to studying. Most people won’t even be able to grasp just how much ‘a huge chunk of your Life’ is in this scenario. It almost feels like practically your entire Life, you’ve just been studying. A whooole Life of nothing but hard lessons from the Universe. Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You may have felt like giving up numerous times, too.

But it all ends by this FM in Capricorn. You’ve finished studying. You’ve graduated, or soon graduating. For the most part, the majority of you have closed that chapter of studying, learning and experimenting (with prototypes). From here onwards, it’s full-on Creation with active R&D on the side. You’re being propelled into your Highest Intended Mission.

Of course, vacation, first, baby~ Relax and celebrate your graduation. You deserve to take it easy now that you’re in preparatory mode.

stability – 2 of Airships Rx

I see that whatever you’ve felt was restricted before, whether money or time or a general sense of ‘freedom’ to do what you want when you want, is being lifted and suddenly there’s just this almost magical burst of material blessings that enable you to just…have a good time! Like, before, it was as if either you turn on the electricity or go without food for a day (hi, Australia). There was just SO much compromise to make. Not anymore! This FM in Capricorn is bringing in a lot of ease and material abundance!

Well, this Strawberry Moon is all about manifestation and fruitfulness, yes, but it’s also the way Saturn (ruler of Cap) seems to be easing in on the restrictions put around your physical manifestations. And it’s mainly thanks to your finally returning to the core of who you are. If this is your main pile, chances are, you’ve figured out your spiritual work in this world.

Basically, the lessons of Saturn revolve around that theme. Finding your footing in this world so your physical manifestations are always going to be in the service of your Highest Intended Good :D

worry-free – Knight of Wands Rx

I get this feeling that up until recently, you’ve been sort of torn between doing what’s responsible/practical and following this calling in your heart. Being pulled in more than one direction has caused you a great deal of mental turbulence. It wasn’t because you were choosing or managing poorly, no, not at all; it was because you were meant to follow both LOL

But yeah, I get that the whole learning phase was more like a tempering of your passions. Basically, the Universe was teaching you trust and faith in its grand orchestration. There this quote that fits perfectly for you right now:

‘You ever just like… Trust the Universe so much that you don’t give a fuck?’

For most of you tuning in here, I feel like you’ve kinda just stopped giving a fuck about whether or not you’re gonna make it or fail hahahah

And that’s the whole point, right? Doesn’t matter what happens, the Universe has big plans for you, so you’re surely gonna end up alright, and even thriving! Since you already know the outcome anyway, might as well relax and take it easy from like right now~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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sebscore · 1 year

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FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL | SEBASTIAN V. & LEWIS H.

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader / sebastian vettel x fem!reader (with a lovely cameo from Markus Webber)

warnings: swearing. implied infidelity.

time stamp: june 21, 2021

author's note: this is an INTRODUCTORY chapter so certain things won't make sense now, but they will make sense later, luvies !! anyway- im so excited about this revamp and i hope old gentle hit readers will like it as well <3

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''I don't know what you're doing out here, there aren't any courts around.''

Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N glanced up from her phone, being met with the smiling face of Sebastian- a sight she had been able to ignore the ongoing weekend.

''The courts don't need me today.'' Her words came out more passive aggressive than she had meant to, but the German driver's sudden appearance caught her off guard. ''Don't you think I should be asking you what you're doing here? I'm afraid you're in the wrong garage.'' She plastered a fake smile on her face, something Sebastian noticed in an instant.

''Yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk to Lewis.'' He explained, leaning his arm on the wall.

The Frenchwoman looked to where her partner was standing, deep in conversation with Bono and Angela. ''He's a little busy right now.''

''It seems so,'' he didn't glance over Lewis, his eyes staying on her, ''it's been a while since I've seen you.'' Sebastian stated, resting his head against his arm.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, that's true. My schedule hasn't been working out too well with all the races this year.'' Her tennis tournaments and Lewis' races had been coinciding rather too much in her opinion. She felt guilty that she couldn't be there to support her boyfriend as much as he had been there for her.

''That's too bad, but you've been doing really well this year.'' He told her, unconsciously admitting that he had been keeping tabs on her season.

The tennis player raised her eyebrow, a little surprised at the unexpected compliment. ''Well, I appreciate that,'' she thanked him, ''although, I hope you're not stalking me.'' Despite the sarcastic tone in her voice, there was a truth to her words.

''I've always been a fan, you know that.'' The Aston Martin driver retorted.

Y/N let out a sigh. ''You're not here to see Lewis, are you, Sebastian?'' He got goosebumps as his name left her lips, lots of time had passed since the last time that happened.

''The word was going around that you were here, wanted to see it with my own eyes.'' Sebastian revealed his real reason for his appearance at the Mercedes garage.

The woman in front of him had an unimpressed look on her face. ''That's the kinda gossip everyone discusses here? It really gets more boring with each year that goes by.'' If her attendance was the biggest topic of the day, she didn't have very high hopes for the other ''gossips'' that went around the paddock.

''I mean- you've always been the talk of the town here, haven't you?'' The comment made her cringe, a hard time controlling her facial expressions. ''And normally you make these grand entrances so people weren't too sure whether you were actually here or not.''

''I'm here for Lewis.'' Y/N stated, a bigger meaning behind her words than seemed on the surface.

Sebastian let out a weird mix between a scoff and a chuckle, momentarily glimpsing at the ground. ''I don't doubt that you're here for Lewis, Y/N.''

He lied, he did doubt it. Many events had transpired between the pair for him to doubt her intentions and support for his longtime rival and eventually turned friend. Or in other words, Sebastian was convinced he had every right to raise his suspicions over Y/N and Lewis' relationship.

''Can we not do this now?'' She didn't have the energy or interest to engage in a conversation with Sebastian about the obvious elephant in the room.

The German had an answer ready, but was interrupted by a curious Brit approaching them. ''Hey, Seb! How are you, man?'' Lewis greeted him, holding out his fist.

Sebastian quickly dropped the agitated expression on his face, wearing a soft smile instead. ''I'm good, and you?''

''Yeah, I'm good- feeling ready for today.'' Lewis was blissfully unaware of the tension in the air, happily grinning while putting an arm around his girlfriend's waist. ''Good conditions, I think it's going to be a nice race.''

''I think so too, looked really good out there.'' The younger man confirmed his words, glancing in-between the couple.

Lewis nodded to what he was saying. ''Where are you starting again?'' The Mercedes driver asked, forgetting where his friend had ended up in qualifying.

''Oh, P12.'' Sebastian quickly answered.

''Well, I know you're gonna do great, man.'' Lewis had felt bad for the man, going from a top team to one that could barely make it into Q2. However, he knew Seb and that he would extract everything he could from his car.

An appreciative smile appeared on the driver's face. ''Thank you, Lewis.''

''So, uh, what were you guys talking about?''

How his ''friend'' is here to see me and not you.

A small panic flashed through Sebastian's eyes as he looked at Y/N who seemed more calm about her boyfriend's curiosity. ''Apparently, my attendance today has been the talk of the paddock so far.'' She chuckled, her eyes on Lewis.

The 7x World Champion giggled at her answer, squeezing her hip. ''Really? That sounds like my girl.''

Sebastian observed the way they were wrapped up in each other, an ugly feeling resting in his stomach. He hated how natural it looked for them, how easy it was for them to show affection. Above all, Sebastian secretly despised the way she had her eyes set on her partner. She looked enthralled by Lewis as if he was the only person in the world at that moment.

He despised it, because that is how the woman's eyes used to stare at him.

The best word to describe Sebastian and Y/N's history was complicated, and even that term didn't do their relationship justice.

They first met in 2008 at the Italian Grand Prix where Sebastian took his first ever Formula 1 race win. She had been invited by his French teammate to the Toro Rosso garage, ultimately bumping into the 21 year-old German.

It didn't take them too long to become close friends; they share a birth year, both are incredibly passionate about their sport and the two of them have a special talent in pushing other people's buttons in a charming way.

It almost seemed like a cheesy rom com where the two protagonists meet and despite their different careers, they fall in love and live happily ever after.

However, there is a huge emphasis on the word 'almost', because in a traditional rom com the male protagonist doesn't have a long term girlfriend who he swore he was going to marry someday. In an ideal world, that's where their story should have ended.

But this isn't an ideal world.

''He's here for you,'' she pointed from Sebastian to Lewis, ''so I'll leave you two.'' Sebastian wanted to protest, suggesting to leave himself, but she was already making her way to Tiffany who was standing on the opposite side of the garage.

Sebastian's eyes followed her steps, swiftly turning his head once Lewis started speaking. ''What's up, man?''

''Nothing, I just, uh, wanted to, uh,'' the German figured he should have come up with at least a probable excuse to talk to Lewis before coming to the Mercedes camp, ''there's, uh, this new project I'm working on and I would love to talk to you about it, but maybe we can do it another time, I think we, uh, have to get ready.'' He rambled on, simply wanting to go back to his own team.

''Yeah, that's alright. I can't wait to hear what you've been developing!'' The Brit knew that whatever his friend had been planning, would be a great success and he felt touched that Seb wanted to share his ideas with him.

Sebastian put up a happy facade to hide his discomfort, ''Thanks,'' guilt crept up on him at the sight of Lewis' genuine excitement over the mere talk about something he had been working on, ''I have to go now, but I'll see you out on track.''

They shared a small hug, patting each other on the back. ''Yeah, good luck, man.'' They bid each other goodbye, each resuming their own pre-race routine.

Y/N has subtly observed the conversation between the two world champions, trying hard not to show her satisfaction at the visible nerves on Sebastian's face and the awkwardness in his behaviour.

''By the way, I really like your outfit today. It looks great on you.'' Tiffany complimented her, shifting the athlete's focus from Lewis to the Australian cyclist. ''Thank you, I absolutely love your dress! Black really suits you.'' Y/N returned the favour, scanning the woman's dress.

''Thank you so much, I wasn't too sure about-''

''Sorry, Tiff! Can I borrow her for a second?'' Lewis interrupted her, his arms instinctively finding their way around her.

Tiffany pretended to be offended, but excused them. ''I'll go find my own man.'' She winked, walking over to where Valtteri was getting ready for the race.

''Seb said that he wanted to talk about some project he had been working on, and I was thinking that maybe we could go and have drinks with him later tonight? Maybe invite Val and Tiffany as well? I don't know, what do you think?''

Y/N took in his words, pretending to deeply think about it while already knowing she would not let that happen. ''A project? Did he say what it is about?'' She asked him, attempting to stretch the time she had to think about how she could politely tell Lewis she did not want to get drinks with the Aston Martin driver.

''He didn't tell me, he said he would tell me after the race.'' Her partner answered, a slight pout on his face.

Probably something about his bees.

The younger woman nodded, a bit confused on why Sebastian wouldn't just tell Lewis. ''That's, uh, too bad.'' She noted.

''So what do you think? You think it's a good idea?'' Lewis asked once again, looking her in the eyes, wanting her validation that it was a great suggestion.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Yeah, it's been a while since we've done something with Val and Tiff alone.'' She realised she had to consider Lewis' feelings and if he wanted to get drinks with his friend, he should be able to, even if she didn't like it.

''I'll suggest it to him when we're done here today,'' he pulled her closer, kissing her temple, ''I have to get ready now. I love you, darling.'' A peck on the lips and Lewis approached Angela who was keeping hold of his gear.

The race itself wasn't that eventful beside a podium for Lewis. She proudly watched him with the rest of the Mercedes team as he stood on the second top step, sending him a wink and a flying kiss.

Afterwards, they met up with each other in his driver's room. ''Mon chéri!'' Y/N embraced him, a strong hold on him. ''I know it's not the result you were hoping for, but I'm proud of you either way.'' She cupped his cheeks, hating the disappointment in his eyes.

''Thank you, love.'' Lewis gave her a quick peck, knowing she isn't a fan of his sweaty form after his races. ''I still have the debrief with the team, but after that we can go and have those drinks.''

''Have you, uh, invited them yet?'' She referred to Sebastian, Valtteri and Tiffany.

He shook his head. ''No, but I'm gonna ask Val now and I'll ask Seb afterwards.''

''That's great.'' She said through gritted teeth. Y/N had a small hope that Lewis had been able to ask Sebastian already, and that the German had cancelled or had come up with a believable excuse as to not having to go.

Lewis pointed to his changing area. ''I'm gonna get out of this and then I'm on my way, darling.'' His champagne covered racing suit started to give him claustrophobia.

''Okay,'' she smiled at him, ''you know what? I'm going to take a little walk around the paddock, cause I saw Mark earlier and I didn't have the chance to say hi.'' Y/N used to be a Red Bull athlete for almost ten years, making her an old regular of the Red Bull Racing garage. That's also the place where she became great friends with the Australian driver.

''That's lovely, I'll text you as soon as I'm done, alright?'' Lewis grinned, delighted to hear she wasn't just going to sit and wait around for him. ''Say hi to Mark from me, darling.'' He winked before disappearing and changing into his Mercedes team wear.

Y/N swiftly freshened herself up, Lewis and his champagne-smelling sweat still lingering on her body. She grabbed her vintage handbag and was out of the hospitality.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to find Mark Webber in a Formula One paddock. Normally, he was quite easy to find or maybe he was always at the right places at the right time.

The Frenchwoman grabbed her phone from her bag and searched for the Australian's contact, not planning to look like an idiot while searching for him.

He didn't make her wait for too long, picking up the call after two rings. ''Hello, you cunt.'' Mark warmly greeted, a teasing tone present in his voice.

''Where the fuck are you? I've been trying to find you for like the past 10 minutes, did you turn into a ghost or something?''

''Oh, you would love for me to haunt you, don't you, Y/N?'' She could hear the smirk on his face.

Y/N almost snorted at his answer. She would have given him a witty comeback if it wasn't for the German man suddenly blocking her way. ''Uh, Markus, I'll call you right back.''

''Why?''

''There's a hazard in front of me and I don't know how long it's gonna take before it's fixed.'' She answered with an attitude, looking Sebastian right in the eye.

The ''hazard'' let out a scoff, her straightforwardness seemed to have grown even more over the years. However, he was impressed by the accuracy of his new nickname.

Mark chuckled on the other side. ''Alright- well, I'm by the paddock club with David so I'll wait here for you, mate.'' He said his goodbye, seemingly understanding that she was being held up by someone she wasn’t a huge fan of.

Y/N hung up the phone, placing it in her bag again. She wanted nothing more than to cross her arms and roll her eyes at the man in front of her, but they were in public and she was painfully aware of the eyes on them.

''I'm only smiling, cause that guy over there has his camera on us and I don't want to go through that again.'' The athlete warned Sebastian, not wanting him to think she was genuinely glad to see him.

The urge to roll his own eyes had never been bigger. ''I'm really happy to see you too, Miss Y/L.''

''I really don't have time for this,'' she sighed, ''what can I tell you that's going to make you leave me alone?'' Her bluntness didn't surprise him, she had never been the one to beat around the bush.

''I just saw you walking by and thought I might join you, you looked a bit lonely.'' He explained himself, his eyes focusing on hers.

She momentarily frowned, quickly fixing her micro-expressions. ''We both know that's not a good idea, Sebastian.'' His name rolled off her lips with ease.

''Why's that?'' He played dumb, he was aware why it wasn't a good idea.

''You really want to go that route?'' She sarcastically chuckled, a taunting smile on her face. ''Okay. Because us talking to each other like this will bring everything up again and I don't want to open those old wounds again, and I don't think you want that either.'' Y/N spoke calmly, but there was a fire behind her words.

The driver scratched his voice. ''Y/N, people are much more interested in your relationship with Lewis than they are in anything that has to do with me.'' A lot of time had passed, and Sebastian wanted to be able to talk to his old ''friend'' without being scared of what other people thought of it.

She was disappointed by his response. ''You really don't get it, do you?'' The athlete shook her head. ''Like I said earlier, I don't have time for this. Now, if you will excuse me- I have somewhere to be.''

Y/N moved past him, remembered something. ''Oh, and if Lewis asks you to get drinks with us, you say no. Have a nice evening, Vettel.''

Just as in the Mercedes garage, Sebastian watched her leave- not minding that he looked like a lost puppy whose owner left them alone at home.

''Too bad that Seb couldn't go.'' Lewis said, his eyes on the road and his right hand on her thigh.

Y/N nodded to his words. ''Yeah… did he, uh, explain what his project was?'' She too had been curious about what the German had been working on.

''Yeah, yeah! He's, uh, gonna do this t-shirt project to spread awareness about certain topics. For example, LGBTQ+, women in motorsport and all that stuff.'' Lewis summarised, echoing what his friend had explained to him.

His girlfriend continued her nodding along. ''That's very interesting.''

''I know. I love how Seb is coming out of his shell these days- like since last year, he's been really stepping up and taking a stance against injustices. He would have never done this 10-12 years ago when he was with Red Bull.'' The Mercedes driver had always admired Sebastian, but ever since he took the knee with him the previous year in regards to the Black Lives Matter movement, Lewis had found a new level of appreciation for his rival.

''That's really great, Lu. You seem very happy about it.'' No matter how complicated her and Sebastian's relationship was, she was relieved her partner had someone to stand beside him in the matters that he cared about.

Lewis smiled at her words. ''I really am, darling.''

Upon seeing the genuine thankfulness on his face, guilt spread through her body. Y/N had never explained the true nature of her history with Sebastian to her significant other. Of course there were rumours about it back in the day that Lewis was aware of, but to him they seemed obviously overdramatised.

She was keen on keeping everything that happened between her and Sebastian in his Red Bull days, in the past- Lewis didn't need to know about it. That was about the only thing both her and the German could agree on at the moment.

The vibration of her phone barged in on her clouded mind.

| UNKNOWN NUMBER I didn't mean to be insensitive earlier, I'm sorry. Good luck at Wimbledon, I know you'll do well! Love from Sebastian.

Y/N had blocked and deleted his phone number years ago, but the 4x World Champion always appeared to always find a way back to her.

''You're good over there?'' Lewis noticed her instant silence, quite uncharacteristic for her.

Her head shot towards him. ''Yeah, sorry- something about Wimbledon.'' She mumbled, unsure of what to tell him.

''Make sure you're there until the second week so I can come and see you play.'' He smirked, taking a glance at her reaction.

She rolled her eyes at him, making him giggle. ''Great, now I actually have motivation to make it to the second week, not the fact that I have a title to defend.'' Y/N sarcastically thanked him.

The tennis player had won the tournament three years in a row now, the 2020 edition being cancelled due to the covid pandemic. There was a lot of pressure on her to win the championship again, being one of the top players.

''I know you're gonna win.'' Lewis stated, matter-of-factly.

Y/N sighed. ''Don't say that, you know unpredictable these tournaments are, especially on grass.'' She appreciated her partner's confidence in her, but her own over-confidence had bitten her in the ass a few times in the past.

''I'm sorry, darling. You know you're my number one, you're always the winner to me.'' He squeezed her thigh, caressing it right after.

The side of her head rested against her chair, an appreciative look in her eyes. ''Merci, mon cher.'' She gave him a slow wink, one that her boyfriend imitated. ''You're welcome, love.''

''It doesn't happen that often that I replace Serena as number one, you know? So I'm gonna enjoy this moment.'' She teased, resulting in a pinch to her side from Lewis.

''Don't you dare tell her, she'll kill me.''

''I'm definitely telling her.''

''Yeah, I know.''

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