#rekindling flight

[pluralsword]

(one must be gentle) they can hold hands. Love Flamewar and Shadow Striker together so much. The smaller side of Flamewar's hand, where the thumb is, is what we squeezed through Shadow Striker's hand slowly, be careful

Also spinning wheels image that is either just non-sexual sensuality pg13 or somewhat lewd (imo also in pg13 territory) depending on context. Going by Lost Light where Roller is spinning Nickel's wheel feet in public and commenting that she has very nice wheels while Nickel smiles about it and enjoys it, it isn't necessarily horny enough or intimate enough to avoid doing in public. But on a basis of Devils Due (humor, decidedly, but still) it might be given that in G.I. Joe vs. The Transformers III Arcee flirts with Bumblebee by saying 'forget kissing you if you win our race to the spacebridge, I'll rotate your tires instead,' which while decidedly different than spinning someone's wheels since rotating tires means switching tire positions on a vehicle/bot (which is actually important for maintenance and upkeep which raises more questions), Bumblebee then yelling 'Wahoo!' and racing ahead makes us wonder how he'd feel about wheels getting touched in general.

For the sake of our own writing we share on this account and this image, we write sensory touch of different parts of the body of a transformer in this manner whether wings or wheels or back stacks or doors or tails or what have you as something partnering bots do for aesthetic/gender affirmation and euphoria which does confer a sort of pleasure of 'making real' (if you want to be academic, reification) in particular in part because it helps them connect with their alt mode and the shape they enjoy, rather than er, a sexual drive, though it certainly can be sensual. We suppose that touching one's corresponding arm or thigh parts while they are in alt mode would be similar, though we haven't written that yet. It's not just a multimodal thing though, its also just, sharing one's shapes with each other and making love in that regard. Which is a very trusting intimate thing to do with someone whether or not sex is involved, as many asexual people could tell you. If you want examples of our writing in this sense, you can check out:

-some chromeblade smooching and wing and wheel touching in Chapter 7 of Rekindling Flight, before we figured out how to write the euphoria aspect of this in a lovemaking manner. We might go back and add to this.

-Chapter 3 and Chapter 15 of Addendum (an IDW1 Arcee novel fanfic) with Arcee/Codexa and Anode/Lug respectively, amusingly Chapter 3 is before Arcee's surgery and Chapter 15 is before Anode's while she and Lug are still trying to figure out their genders, so they both have a sense of trying to give and/or receiving euphoria to help with dysphoria by reifying parts of the body the two wanted to change

-Trusting Transformations is an Arcee x reader fic that also touches on this (the reader's character is a gender/aesthetically expansive transformer)

We want to talk about casual or reassuring contextually non-sensual public touch of alt mode kibble is commonplace among friends or from aesthetic/gender kinship but don't have the spoons to get into that and real world human bodied parallels rn. And yes that, and intimate affirmation touch are all things we have experienced and that we are deeply glad for

[vulturereyy]

What pathetic (and pleasant!) beasts these are...

Pathetic Beast Adopt Shop

[sunsburns]

naked in manhattan

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader / implied art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’re just hours away from a flight that will change your career forever—one that will take you to london, england, for the 2012 olympics, a milestone you never thought you’d reach. thrilled yet trembling with nerves, you find yourself at the hotel bar, celebrating alone. it does not help when you run into art donaldson and… his wife?

—or: you and tashi rekindle an old flame

word count: 6.9k

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, semi-public sex (a gym at the middle of the night so idk if that counts), mid-challengers movie (a year after the atlanta scene with tashi and patrick), angst with no comfort, fingering, homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, no use of y/n, old situationship best described in terms of “casual” by chappell roan (iykyk), art is lowkey a shit starter

author’s note: so i finished this a while back and added it to my queue and did not realize i put it for july instead of june so LOL MY BAD. this is kinda like a prequel to “good luck, babe!” but you don't need to read that to get this. alsoooo thank you for all the love and feedback in “good luck, babe!” i’ve read every single message and tried to reply to all of them! you guys are so sweet and inspired me to write more! thank you thank you <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

Manhattan, New York City, 2012

"I hope you're planning on getting laid tonight."

Your drink is cold, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you swirl the straw absentmindedly. The dim lighting of the hotel bar casts a warm, golden glow over everything, making the polished wood of the bar counter gleam. Around you, the murmur of conversations, bursts of laughter, and the occasional clinking of glasses create a lively yet intimate ambiance. You glance at the TV mounted in the corner, where a muted sports channel displays highlights from a basketball game.

You try not to snort into your drink at the words of Patrick Zweig on the other end of the call. You push your phone closer to your ear, unable to bite back the grin spreading across your face.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"What?" Patrick's tone is mockingly innocent, full of playful mischief.

"I thought you called to say something a little more... I don't know, sincere? Heartwarming?"

He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh that you can practically feel through the phone. In the background, you hear the faint sounds of a city—honking cars, distant chatter, and the occasional bark of a dog. The noise fades slightly as Patrick likely moves to a quieter spot, and you can almost picture him getting in his car in some other state—you think he's in Arizona.

"The only kind of warming I wanna hear about is cockwarming," he retorts, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

You make a face, "You're disgusting."

"I mean it," he insists, still laughing. "I'm actually so jealous of you right now. You qualified for the Olympics, for fuck's sake! How's your mom doing? Did she have a heart attack? Did she call you already? I hope she packed you some condoms. There's gonna be such a wide variety. Literally every country in the world."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick."

Your mother did call, her voice crackling with emotion over the phone just before Patrick rang you. She told you how proud she is of you, how she can't wait to watch you play and tell everyone she knows that her daughter is an Olympic tennis player. A gold medalist, maybe.

Her words echo in your mind, filling you with a warmth that battles the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

You take a sip of your drink, savouring the blend of fruity and bitter flavours, a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts. You try not to spill it on your Ralph Lauren sweater, custom-made, just for the Olympics, with your name stitched on the arm.

Around you, the hotel bar is alive with the buzz of other athletes celebrating with their teams. The fellowship is appreciable as laughter and cheers fill the air. But for some single athletes, like yourself, it's a different story. You feel as if you're in high school all over again, too awkward to make friends, hoping someone braver than you will come by and say hello first.

"You better not be sitting at the bar alone, drinking that orange juice you like."

"A sangria isn't just juice, you dick," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"You're such a loser."

You do feel a little bit like a loser, sitting alone at the bar, but you know you shouldn't. You're hours away from your flight to London where you'll have the chance to play tennis in the Olympics. This is all you've ever wanted since you were a child, all you've been working for—sweat, blood, and tears. You can't even remember a time when you've dreamt of something other than this.

Tennis has always been your escape, your sanctuary. You remember those early days when you played with second-hand rackets and makeshift nets, the local court becoming your second home.

And then there was Patrick, your closest… friend(?) and fiercest rival. His encouragement, his competition, and his company kept you grounded and motivated. When the going got tough, the dream felt too distant, and all of it made you feel far too guilty as if you had stolen someone else's life, Patrick was there to reassure you that you deserved it just as much as the next. Without him, you likely would have walked away from the sport you love.

"I can't believe you made it to the Olympics before me," Patrick's voice pulls you back to the present, a mix of envy and pride lacing his words. You can almost see the playful smirk on his face, a familiar expression that often surfaced during your countless matches together.

"I wish you were here, Pat." Your voice softens, the longing evident. It was hard to track down Patrick Zweig, especially while he was constantly on the move, hopping from state to state, playing as many challengers as he could sign up for, each match a stepping stone toward his dream of winning the US Open. And you think he will. You've played against him enough times to know he's better than you at hitting a ball with a racket.

There were nights when you'd both crash in a shabby motel or back at your place after a gruelling day on the court, strategizing and critiquing each other's play styles (sometimes in more than just tennis). His tenacity was a beacon for you, pushing you to strive harder and to reach further.

His voice softens, becoming more earnest. "Yeah, me too. I'll try to get tickets for one of your games in London. If not, I'll catch up with your mom and watch it with her. Is your dad still in the picture?"

You roll your eyes, a reflex to his familiar teasing. "Oh, my god."

"I'm just asking," he chuckles. "Listen, I'm gonna let you go, 'cause I've got a date tonight. But call me when you land."

"Oh, yeah, okay." You try not to let the disappointment seep into your voice, but it's hard. It's not like you and Patrick were together, at least not publicly, at least not in the sense that you couldn't see other people. But even as you tell yourself that, a knot tightens in your chest.

It feels a bit teenageish, you think, messing around with friends and acting like it means nothing just to avoid making things awkward. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were leaving something unsaid, something unacknowledged. Patrick was one of the few people in your life who kept you on your toes and made you feel good—truly good.

Now, the idea of him with someone else, going on dates while you chase your dreams, feels like a betrayal you can't quite articulate. But what right do you have to feel that way? You never made things official, never dared to cross that line.

You never bothered to search for love outside of tennis.

"Have fun on your date," you manage to say. It comes out more brittle than you'd hoped. "Talk to you later."

"Bye!" he says, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart. His voice is light and carefree, and why wouldn't it be?

You end the call and set your phone down on the bar with a bit more force than intended, the hollow thud echoing your frustration. The bartender glances your way and you try to flash him an honest smile before ordering another drink. The TV overhead flickers, switching from basketball highlights to a recap of the latest tennis matches. You watch the screen without really seeing it.

The bar is still lively, yet you feel an overwhelming sense of solitude. You can't help but feel like you're stuck in limbo—caught between your dreams and the reality of your personal life.

You take a deep breath and a long sip of the rest of your first drink, the cool liquid doing little to ease the heat of frustration building inside you. You tell yourself you should be happy, grateful even. But right now, all you can think about is Patrick, and how much easier it would be if he were here with you.

But he's not. And maybe he never will be.

Maybe no one will.

Maybe you will die alone, your tennis racket as your only companion.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

You turn, startled, "No-" you start, but then the blur of blonde hair comes to focus and you're stumbling over your words, "Art? What- what are you doing here?"

"Oh," he smiles, a shy faint red blush already growing on his pale skin. He sits beside you, almost hesitantly, "Just stopping by the city. I saw you and thought I'd say hi."

"Hi." You return his smile, albeit a bit warily.

It's been years since you last spoke to Art properly, though your paths have crossed a few times. You've seen him in magazines, TV, and brief passings usually at major tournaments—Wimbledon, the Australian Open, the US Open. Each time, there were shy smiles and waves from across the room, lingering eyes, and awkward conversations where mutual friends tried to reintroduce you as if you hadn't once known each other

Art looks different every time you see him. His hair, now a little shorter than you remember, still maintains that boyish shagginess. There's a darker tan on his skin, evidence of his time spent under the sun. Some days he has a brighter smile, other days, it's a smile that never reaches his eyes.

As he sits there, you can't help but think of how golden his hair used to look whenever he wore his old Stanford hat, the one he used to pull low over his eyes during your college days. The memory makes you aware that you're staring, maybe a little too long. But he's looking at you too, his blue eyes trailing from one end of your face to the other, as if trying to memorize it all, capturing a photograph of who you are now.

A warmth spreads through you under his gaze, and when he finally looks away, you turn too, tapping at your empty glass, pretending to seem interested in the way the ice has started to melt.

But your eyes betray you, slowly trailing back to him. You watch the way he sits, the way he calls over the bartender and orders himself a glass of water. You try not to notice the deep timbre his voice has gained over the years, and how it resonates in the noisy bar. He looks at you, then the empty seat on your other side, and finally scans the room anxiously, as if he's searching for someone or something.

"He's not here," you finally say, breaking the silence that has grown too heavy. "If that's what you're wondering."

He nods, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "What city is he in now?"

"Vegas, I think."

He makes a face and rests his chin on his hand. "There's no challengers in Vegas this month."

"Then he's just visiting. I don't know." The truth is, you don't want to talk about Patrick right now. Especially not with Art. Not after the way they ended things. You watch Art shrug, and the bartender sets your drink in front of you. You take a grateful sip, savouring the blend of flavours. Art holds his glass carefully, and the two of you sit in strained silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

You can't help but ask, "What are you doing here? In Manhattan?"

"I have an interview tomorrow. For the New York Times," Art says, leaning back slightly. He seems a little surprised as if he expected you to sit there without acknowledging him for the whole night. It makes you wonder what he thinks of you. "They're doing a piece on my career, the highs, the lows... the beginning and stuff."

You study his face, trying to gauge his emotions. You know what it's like to be interviewed, to have a team of people making you look your best for photos and another team crafting answers to help you maintain your reputation. It’s exhausting and thrilling all at once. "Congrats, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. If anything, I should be congratulating you. Olympics? That's huge..." He continues talking, his lips moving, but you’re barely registering the words. For the first time that night, he seems genuinely enthusiastic, a faint spark in his eyes as he talks about you, about London, gesturing with his hand in excitement.

That's when you notice it. The gold around his finger. It glimmers under the warm lights of the bar, catching your eye like a beacon. You can't stop staring at it even after he's done talking.

"Oh, yeah. It's great." The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. You struggle to find the right response, not wanting to be rude. "You're married?"

His face falls, and he looks down at his hand resting on his lap. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We, uh..." He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting up to meet yours briefly before looking away. He seems nervous, like he's bracing for your reaction, worried to tell you, as if you weren’t supposed to know at all. "We got married last year. We kept pushing the date for a while because we were... we were busy... and stuff just kept getting in the way."

"We...?"

"Tashi."

"Tashi," you echo, the name tasting foreign and bitter on your tongue. "You're married? You married each other?"

He nods, "Yeah, we've been engaged for a few years now. You haven't heard?"

You feel a lump form in your throat. "No, uh. My coach tries to keep me away from certain news... my mom suggested it. So I don't get uh, distracted."

This is exactly the kind of situation your team has been trying to avoid.

The reality of his words sinks in, and you feel a sharp pang of something—loss, regret, maybe even jealousy. The air around you feels thicker and harder to breathe. Each word he says feels like another brick being laid on your chest, pressing down, making it harder to stay composed.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You force a smile, but it's a fragile thing, threatening to shatter at any moment. "That's... that's great, Art. I'm happy for you. Really. How was... how was the wedding?" Your mind races with thoughts of broken promises and missed opportunities. You imagine Tashi in her wedding dress; you know she looked beautiful. The image stabs at you, and you wince.

"It was beautiful. Both our families came in, and we kept it traditional, in a church. It was..." He pauses, watching you before adding, "It was a small ceremony. Private. Just family."

His words twist the knife deeper. Tashi's family used to see you as such. "No, yeah, I get it. Wouldn't want any trouble at the wedding. I'm happy for you. I'm happy for the both of you." You turn to the bartender, desperate to keep your voice steady. "Hey, can I get another drink? Something stronger?"

Patrick was right; your stupid orange juice won't get you through the night.

Art watches you with concern, his brow furrowing. "How many of those have you had?"

You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Not enough."

"Does your coach know you're drinking?"

"Does yours know you're talking to me?"

Art leans back, his posture stiffening. He turns to his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass as he takes another sip. The silence that follows is thick and uncomfortable. You watch as he processes your words, his expression shifting from defensiveness to something more pained. You instantly feel a pang of guilt, realizing you've struck a nerve.

You've heard all about Tashi's coaching with Art. Whispers in the locker rooms during tournaments, hushed conversations about how she's pushing him until he cracks. You never wanted to believe it, never wanted to think that Tashi, of all people, would be the one to break him down.

"She calls you Ace, you know."

You make a face at the name. A journalist had written an article about you a few years ago when you won your first US Open, nicknaming you Ace since your serves were almost impossible to hit. The nickname stuck, plastered across headlines, magazine covers, and merchandise. People even bet on you becoming the youngest tennis player with the most aces in history before the season ended. You were only off by a dozen.

"Does she?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, unaffected.

"You do have a killer serve."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Killer." The word feels bitter on your tongue. "Tashi used to hit those back at me like it was nothing."

Art nods, taking another sip of his drink before pausing to look at you. "Only 'cause she knows you."

"Knew," you correct him.

The silence stretches again, heavier this time. You're about to say something, anything to break it, when Art speaks again, his voice softer, more earnest.

"I miss you."

What. The. Fuck.

"I do," he insists, leaning forward, his eyes searching yours. "I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing with you. Watching your games live and not recorded on my TV."

"Art, c'mon." You feel the dread crawling up your throat, wishing you had left the bar sooner. Every word he says seems to pull you deeper into a past you've been trying to escape. Art has done nothing but throw you off your game all night.

"I miss you outside of tennis, too," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I miss our late-night walks, studying in the library. You remember those?"

"Of course I do."

"Tashi misses you, too," he says, and you can tell he's crossing a line, testing your patience. You can feel the corner of your mouth twitch, your eyes unable to meet his. "She tells me every night. She's always keeping up with your stats, watching all of your games, rewatching your old ones. She makes notes for you, how you could improve. She wants to coach you."

"Art, stop it," you finally snap, turning to face him. The night feels ruined, any semblance of peace shattered. Was this all some elaborate scheme against you? After all these years, is this how they repay you? Out of spite? Is that what it is, a way to get back at you because you somehow got it all, and Tashi's taking whatever she can scrape off from Art?

"I don't want her to coach me. And I highly doubt she wants to coach me either."

"I booked the hotel," he says suddenly, his voice softer, more sincere. "She doesn't know you're here. And I really think it will be good for you two to talk." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, placing it carefully on the bar in front of you. "Here's our room number. I'll be out tonight with some friends, so the room is yours till late. Just, don't kill each other or break anything if you fight."

"I'm not going—"

"She really does miss you," he interrupts, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you might understand, might relent.

You stare at the piece of paper, feeling its presence like a burning brand. Art stands up, hesitating for a moment as if he wants to say more but thinks better of it. "I mean it. Think about it," he murmurs before turning and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space of your mind.

You watch him go, each step he takes pulling at the threads of your carefully constructed facade. As he nears the entrance, your eyes follow him instinctively, and that's when you see her. Tashi. She's standing there, with her bags looking around with a familiar intensity, her eyes scanning the room until they lock onto yours.

You feel sick.

Meeting Art was a pleasant surprise; he makes your heart race and your cheeks burn. But Tashi makes your heart stop and your brain shut off.

She looks different—older, more mature, hair straight and cut to a mid-length but also a lighter colour—but still heartbreakingly familiar. Her eyes widen slightly as she recognizes you.

She opens her mouth as if to say something when Art stands next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple, but no words come out.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

The weight of her gaze is too much. You're the first to look away. You stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over your drink in the process. "Excuse me," you mutter to the bartender, slapping a couple of bucks on the counter. Your voice feels distant, and detached, as if it belongs to someone else.

You push through the crowd, your mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. You need air. You need space.

As you reach the elevator, you can feel Tashi's eyes still on you. But you keep moving, your footsteps quickening with each step. You need to focus on tennis. That's the only thing that's never let you down.

Tashi had once picked tennis over you, and now it was your turn to do the same.

You reach your room and close the door behind you, leaning against it as you finally let out the breath you've been holding. The walls seem to close in on you, and you slide down to the floor.

You need to remember why you're here. For the game. For the dream. And that has to be enough.

Only one problem.

You can't sleep.

Hours later, you find yourself in the hotel gym, the quiet hum of the machines the only sound in the stillness of the night. Your mind is racing, a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions you can't control. Desperate for an outlet, you hop on a treadmill and start running, hoping to exhaust yourself into some semblance of peace.

Anything is better than sitting in the hotel lobby, scouring the internet on the public computer for any proof of Art and Tashi's marriage while drinking wine straight from the bottle.

Art was right, it was a small wedding. There were almost no photos of it caught by the paparazzi, only articles upon articles talking about it, magazine covers and everything. God, how could you have missed this? How out of the loop were you?

There was only one photo posted, and it was from Tashi's Facebook and Instagram from less than a year ago; a picture of just her hand holding onto Art's, where you can see her wedding ring. There was no caption. But the photo had millions of likes.

You wonder if Patrick knew. He probably did. He stalks her account religiously and only recently started to tone it down. And then there's you, who had her blocked on everything since your last argument.

The music playing in your ears drowns out the world around you, a heavy beat pulsing as you hum along. Your eyes fixate on the rising numbers on the treadmill screen, sometimes glancing out the window at the city skyline, other times catching your silhouette in the glass reflection.

Sweat makes your clothes cling to you like a second skin, rolling down your spine in rivulets. You're still a little tipsy from your drinks, the taste lingering in your cheeks, but you think you're sober enough that a few more miles will drain it all out.

Art's words are burned into your mind. The wedding you were never invited to, how he suddenly wants to be friends again. You can see where he's coming from; tennis is lonely. You're lonely. You press the button to go faster, your legs burning as you push yourself harder, trying to escape the thoughts that chase you.

You don't hear the door click open, and it takes a few seconds for you to spot the reflection of someone walking behind you in the window's reflection, rolling out a pink yoga mat. But they don't step onto it, they don't move, and even worse, you catch their eye in the reflection.

Fuck.

It's Tashi Duncan.

Your heart lurches in your chest. You quickly look away, panic setting in. You turn your music up higher and make the treadmill run faster, the machine whirring louder in response. Your pulse races, not just from the exertion, but from the presence of the one person you can't bear to face right now.

In the corner of your eye, you see her approach you. When you hear her call out your name between songs, you pretend you can't hear her. You pretend to be captivated by the sight of the city at night, pretend that you're lost in the music as P!nk's voice blares into your ears, cursing out one of her old lovers.

You wonder how long you can keep the act up.

Tashi moves with a determination that you've always admired and feared. She walks around your treadmill, eyes locked onto you with a fierce intensity. Without hesitation, she reaches down and unplugs the machine from the wall, forcing it to power down abruptly.

Not long enough.

"What the fuck?" You huff, yanking out your earbuds. "What's your fucking problem?"

"You're my problem," she says, her voice steady, unyielding as she rolls her eyes.

"I haven't said a word to you."

"And that's my problem. I'm talking to you," Her gaze bores into yours, refusing to be ignored. You can see the resolve in her eyes, the same decisiveness that made her a force to be reckoned with on the court.

"I'm busy," you snap, and your breath comes in ragged gasps, both from the exertion and the emotional storm raging inside you. You feel trapped, cornered by the very person you’ve been trying to avoid.

You bite your tongue, stepping off the treadmill and walking around her when she steps in front of you. You make a straight line for your bag, watching her from the mirrors as she follows you closely.

"Can you listen?" It's more of a demand than an ask, "I just... Art told me what he did. He's a little shit, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You have other shit to worry about."

You're taking long chugs from your water, staring at her without saying a word. Part of it is because you have nothing to say to her, and another is because you're afraid that if you speak, she'll see through you.

Tashi's eyes roam over you, lingering on your shorts and the way the wires from your earbuds snake from your iPod, under your tank, and peek out from under your sports bra. Her gaze is both appraising and filled with something unresolved between you. When you don't respond, she sighs. "You look great, by the way. On the court. You've changed your approach. You're vicious."

The compliment stings more than it soothes. You still don't say anything, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

"...Or maybe you've always been. I haven't seen you in a long time. So a lot could've changed, I don't know."

You lower your bottle, swallowing the water. It feels cold as it runs down your throat, a stark contrast to the heat of your rising anger. You can't help the way your eyes drop to her hand when you pull your hair down from its ponytail. The sight of the ring on her finger feels like a punch to the gut.

She notices.

"We didn't want you to find out this way."

Your eyes snap up to hers. "And how was I supposed to find out?"

Tashi looks taken aback for a moment, her confident façade faltering. She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "I don't know. Maybe we should've told you. Should've invited you. But I thought... I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't know. I didn't want to hurt you more than I already had."

Your laugh is bitter, devoid of any real amusement. "Easier?

"Look," Tashi begins, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience, "I'm not a fan of the way I ended things. But I think that keeping a grudge for this long is embarrassing. We were teenagers."

"You're right," you concede with a bitter chuckle, "it is embarrassing. But you know what's even more embarrassing?" Your voice rises, fueled by a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Having your husband come to me and tell me how much he misses me. And how you miss me. But you don't have the guts to tell me that yourself, do you? Do you miss me, Tashi?"

"Of course I miss you," she scoffs, her tone defensive. "You were my best friend. My serving partner. We played and won doubles together."

"Is that all I was to you?"

"Was there supposed to be anything more?"

There it is, the moment you've been dreading, the confrontation you've been avoiding. You can feel the familiar ache in your chest, "You know I fucking loved you, Tashi," you admit. "And yeah, whatever, everyone loved you. No one could get enough of Tashi Duncan. But you know damn well I loved you for more than just that."

"Loved?" She steps closer, her eyes searching yours. "You don't love me anymore?"

"No," you tell her. "I don't. I dropped out of your groupie a while ago."

"What do you love, then?" Her voice is almost a whisper, the distance between you closing.

"I love tennis," you confess, your gaze never leaving hers. "I love winning. Turns out I'm great at both. And I love that too. And people love me. That's more than you could ever give me. Or Art."

"Even Patrick?" The mention of his name is a sharp jab; she's trying to get under your skin.

"I don't know, you tell me." You're taunting her. And you love the way she falters for a split second. "You saw him at the Open last year, didn't you?"

The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you. "Listen," she says, her voice dropping lower, "I just came here to tie some loose ends. For Art's sake. He says It'll be good for me."

"Okay," you reply, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation in your favour. Hook, line and sinker. "Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Hook.

Tashi's eyes narrow slightly, but she takes the bait, her expression shifting to one of determination. "You raise your arm too high when you serve. You're gonna dislocate your shoulder one day."

"I bet you're waiting for the day I do."

"I can make you the best."

"Am I not already?"

Line.

"You're one of the best at most. But not the best. I'd be surprised if you bring back bronze. You're too short-tempered for silver. Let me coach you. I'll make sure you bring back gold."

"I don't need you," you say, the words catching in your throat.

"We both know you do," she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

And sinker.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. The words hang in the air, a silent challenge. You can feel the heat radiating from her, the closeness almost unbearable.

Without another thought, your lips crash together in a desperate kiss, a release of all the pent-up tension and longing that has simmered between you for far too long.

It's a whirlwind of heat and passion, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume everything in its path. Her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your body pressed against hers with a fierce urgency.

The kiss deepens a symphony of desire and desperation, all the words you couldn't say pouring into it with a fervour that borders on reckless abandon. You can feel yourself start to become absorbed into the bubble that is Tashi Duncan, it sucks you in, and it scares you, makes you feel as if you're sinking into the bottom of the ocean.

She grips the back of your neck, hard enough that her nails dig into the skin. Tashi waits for your gasp, and when you do, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, past your teeth until it collides with your own.

You're moaning, groaning into her mouth with the way she shoves you until your back hits the mirror behind you. You're arching into her at the way she fucking smiles against your lips at your reaction.

It's pathetic. You're pathetic. Almost in the same way Art is. You know it. She knows it. But in your defence, it's been a while since you've been kissed, it's been a while since someone's touched you this way, with heat and flavour. You're a little dizzy from it, cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

Tashi sucks your tongue into her mouth and you buck your hips against the thigh she's pressed between your legs.

There's a sweetness that lingers when she bites your lip, you wonder if she's wearing lipgloss, maybe chapstick. You hope she can't tell you've been drinking, that talking to Art made you spiral, that you've been bluffing since the moment she walked into the gym. Since the night she packed her things and told you she was leaving Stanford, her scholarship has no use since she can't play anymore.

When her hands run down your neck to your waist, gliding over the sweat on your skin, you can feel the cold touch of her wedding ring. It's frigid, making you shiver when Tashi starts to lick up the column of your throat. You almost feel bad about how wet you've become.

"Tashi..." you huff, her hands found their way to the base of your ass, guiding you to rock faster against her, only making you whine. Her grasp is tight, wanting. She pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your crotch closer to hers and then pushing you back down on her leg. She repeats the motion a few times, rolling her own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto her.

Tashi rewards you with a quiet moan—oh, you want her to do that again, you're going to make her do that again, louder and louder—and then, with a touch so light you could cry, she traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

You can feel your stomach nearly drop, "You're married, Tashi."

She pulls away just to laugh at you. One finger traces your slit through your shorts, and you hear yourself moan. She raises her brows, a challenging look in her eyes, "Are you jealous?"

You try to scoff, but the cold glass of the mirror behind you squeaks when you shift. Even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once.

"What would Art say?" You try to say, your hair falling over your face as you try to collect some kind of morality. If you were caught, you can already imagine the headlines and the stories people would write about you. "What would he do if he found us right now?"

"I don't know," Tashi hums, leaning closer. She pretends to think as if the answer isn't obvious, teasing you a little when she gets close enough to kiss you but doesn't. "He'd probably ask to join."

You can't stop the way that thought alone makes you melt. You remember the jokes Patrick used to make back when you were in college, of you and Tashi being his wet dreams. You can almost imagine, how he would moan at everything, want everything, his whiney moans too similar to the ones he makes when he's on the court.

Tashi rubs gently at your pussy a few more times like she's exploring you, and then suddenly she taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and she sighs against your mouth. "You're so wet. You like it when I touch you?"

"Yeah, please... touch me." You nod. And in your head, you're telling yourself you only like it because you haven't been with anyone since Patrick left for his tour.

Tashi kisses you again, and it's a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath her shirt she starts to fumble with your waistband, and you're both angry and resentful and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet.

Her fingers are clumsily slipping into your underwear and then she's there, her fingers are brushing right against your clit—you're so wet that her fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time she reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Tashi leaves you gasping and she teases you for it. "So sensitive," she taunts against your lips, pressing her thumb against your clit so she can see you squirm, pumping her fingers at an urgent pace to hear you moan. "So needy."

With each movement, she scissors her fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and she starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? I am, aren't I? I'm exactly what you need. C'mon say you want me. Tell me you need me, Ace."

"Maybe—" You're breathless, and the nickname has you tugging at her hair again, "Shit, I saw the way you made Art. He... oh god... he wouldn't be half the athlete without you. I also... I also wouldn't want to ruin my shoulder... while—while serving."

"I'm not talking about tennis."

For a moment, you worry that you've fallen for a trap, that you've said too much. You're vulnerable, a little drunk on lust and wine, and Tashi isn't stupid to not catch your sapphic crush on her since the two of you became friends, an old high school love that's never really disappeared, from slumber party kisses and how you've gawked at her, at her husband and even her ex-boyfriend.

"C'mon, Tash, you're always talking about tennis."

"Not this time."

You barely catch onto what she says. Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that she's given up on pumping her fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach—"I think I'm close... oh, I don't—fuck—keep touching me like that."

She bites your neck until you say her name. You pull her hair until she moans. Her touch is blistering against your skin. She says your name in a breathy drawl like she's pleading with you, humouring you, wanting to take everything from you.

"Keep going, please, please don't stop," you all but shout, and Tashi continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of her hand means the heel of her palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into her hand—you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you.

Every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Tashi whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming—

Distantly, you can feel her fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting—and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto her lap—but other than that, all you know is the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once. A hot sting against your skin that reminds you of the sun whenever you're on the tennis court, deep into the game you've turned into the love of your life.

It can't have possibly been this long since the last time you've gotten laid, right?

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Tashi is heaving for breath against your shoulder and her fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. "You're so pretty, you know that? No tennis talk."

You lean your head back against the mirror, a slow grin forming on your lips, "You don't think I'm pretty when I play."

"I think you're hot when you play."

You peek a glance at Tashi, meeting her eyes as she watches you, watching the way you catch your breath, skin shining against the fluorescent lights of the gym, similar to how you shine on the court. Yeah, you're a sight for sore fucking eyes.

Tashi takes slow, taunting steps back and away from you, and then she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes, you can see the most fucked-out look on her face just at the taste of your cum.

She licks her fingers clean—you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight—before opening her eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "I'll be in my room," she rolls up her pink mat (which she never used) and picks up her bag, "I'm sure you know the number. I'm hoping you can return the favour and touch me or something. You know, before you leave in the morning."

tags 🏷️: @begoniaespresso / @sceletaflores / @too-deviant / @wolflover384 / @sevikasblackgf / @supercutszns / @diorrfairy / @24kmar / @apolloscastellan

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[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty: Pt. II | Joost Klein

Description: Joost Klein x f! reader (part two to this fic here) Joost returns home from tour, and he and reader finally get to rekindle their relationship with some much-needed make up sex.

Content: 18+ nsfw, mdni- rpf smut, oral (f! recieving), fingering, unprotected PiV, allusions to past angst/relationship issues but mostly just comfort/fluff

Word count: 4,379

Your eyes flutter as a soft touch against your cheek pulls awake you from your unconscious state. Heavy eyelids prying themselves open, fighting against the weight of sleep. Your bedroom is drenched in moonlight, providing just enough clarity to identify the figure that stands above you.

"Joost?" Your straining voice thick with sleep as your eyebrows furrow, confused, but you'd be lying if you said a smile wasn't tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Oh," He responds, lips just above your forehead, "Schatje, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice soft and apologetic.

"No," You mumble, heart pumping, far too ecstatic for your exhausted state, "You're home?" You outstretch a lazy arm, reaching for the lamp on your bedside table so you can actually see the man you're talking to. With a click, the room is enveloped in a soft orange glow. Your eyelids snap shut at the initial brightness, too harsh for your eyes, sensitive from sleep.

Last you heard, Joost wasn't supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow evening. Not that you could complain about his early appearance, it had been a hard few weeks without him.

You stare at the man above you, his glasses hanging down his nose, exposing his eyes, the pale skin surrounding them seeming darker than usual with hints of purple, his hair, messy. He looked exhausted, you figured it had been a while since he had gotten a good night's sleep.

"I was able to get an earlier flight." A small smile appears on his lips as he slowly stands up from the position where he hovers over you.

"Didn't tell me." You pout

"I didn't want you waiting up for me." His head falls to the side, apologetically.

"No? Just going to hover over me in the dark at-whatever time in the morning it is."

Joost shakes his head, chuckling,

"You make it sound so creepy."

"It is a little creepy," You giggle, "Waking up to some guy hanging above my face."

"Just giving you a kiss goodnight."

"Then why don't you come to bed?" You ask, patting the empty space next to you.

It was then that you had realized perhaps subconsciously you had been leaving room for Joost in bed every night. It had been over a month since you had last shared a bed, and yet still you had continued to sleep on "your" side of the bed, not allowing yourself to sprawl out.

"A few minutes, okay?"

You nod, your head falling to the side, still sleepy.

You manage to keep your eyes open, however, as you watch Joost walk away from you. You track his movements with your eyes, your gaze not leaving his body as he walks about the room.

There had been a lingering tension in the room, one that lightly dulled your excitement of having Joost home. Many words had been left unsaid between the two of you, having thought it better to push aside discussing those tumultuous first few weeks he had been away until Joost had gotten home. Neither of you wanted to deal with emotions getting lost or misunderstood over the phone anymore, both you and Joost wanted to fix your relationship, not continue the cycle of arguments you had unfortunately fallen into.

Still, things had been amicable between you, being able to hold conversations like normal- but, that gnawing feeling of obvious feelings having been unspoken did not cease.

Despite the tension, your heart still flutters as you watch Joost undress on the other side of the bedroom, stripping down to only his boxers. A smile grazes his lips as he looks up at you, catching you staring at him. You smile back, unashamed of how hard you had been looking.

"Be right there," The grin lingers on his face as he goes to toss his clothes into the closet. You take this moment to turn off the lamp beside you, the room once again now only lit by moonlight.

Moments later he's walking back toward the bed, the mattress dipping as he climbs in next to you.

Immediately, the two of you are meeting in the middle of the bed, wrapping a leg around his as you pull yourself near him, his arm snaking around your waist. You close your eyes as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, so soft yet still filled with so many emotions. Joost grips you tighter, holding you firmly against his,

"I missed you," He mumbles, pulling away only slightly, his lips still ghosting yours as he speaks.

"I missed you too." It wasn't solely a physical missing him, but missing the Joost before tour, the Joost before the arguments and nights ridden with anger and spite. But as you lay in each other's arms, it feels as if you already have that Joost back, the Joost that wouldn't ever dare to hurt your feelings, not even in the slightest, "I'm glad you're home."

It felt ridiculous even saying having that Joost back, he had never left, and deep down you knew it, under no circumstances would either of you truly intentionally hurt each other.

You feel Joost's chest rising against yours before he lets out a large exhale.

"Mmm," He hums, nuzzling his face into your cheek, "Ik ben zo blij om thuis te zijn." (I'm so glad to be home), A small kiss is placed against your jaw before Joost speaks again, his words becoming slower, "Met mijn lieve meisje" (With my sweet girl)

"You're exhausted." You giggle, Joost had a habit of mixing up languages once he got to a certain point of tired, often speaking in some combination of English and Dutch, but it seemed now he had forgotten English entirely, "Prober wat te slapen." (try to get some sleep),

"Ahh," Joost's breath tickles your neck as he exhales, "You should speak Dutch more, zo mooi klinkt." (sounds so pretty)

You can't help but feel a little bad, your usage of Dutch in day-to-day life hadn't exactly been nearly as much as it should have been for someone with a Dutch boyfriend, living in the Netherlands. Despite the length the two of you had been together, and how long you had been living here you had yet to feel confident enough to use it so often.

You simply hum in response, unsure of what to say as you snuggle up closer to Joost, burying your head in his neck, and wrapping an arm around his torso. You had missed this closeness, realizing just how much you craved his touch as Joost's arm snakes up under the T-shirt you had been wearing, feeling his palm grip your now-exposed skin.

"Hold on," You mumble, sneaking out of Joost's grip, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You toss the fabric somewhere in the room, leaving both of you clad only in your underwear.

The two of you were long past the point in your relationship of there being any shame or shyness around nudity. There was nothing inherently sexual about your decision to further undress, rather the move was done solely due to your desire for skin-to-skin contact with Joost.

As you go to lay back down, Joost turns on his side, pressing his chest to your now bare back. His skin is soft, the warmth of his body heat exuding a familiar warmth as he presses his face into your neck. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Slaap lekker, ik hou van jou." (Sleep tight, I love you.) Joost mumbles into your ear, and you can tell sleep is quickly overtaking him.

"Ik hou ook van jou." (I love you too.)

You wake up with a low groan, immediately noticing the sharp pain in your neck as you attempt to change your position.

"Ugh," You moan at the sensation, eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm?" You hear a hum from next to you, remembering that Joost had come home last night.

Inhaling deeply you turn your whole body to the side, wincing at the way your neck aches with your movements.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, awake, but his eyelids are still heavy as he looks at you. You forget the pain you're in for just a moment as you admire his peaceful state, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Slept weird." You furrow your eyebrows, "My neck really hurts."

"Mijn arme meisje," (My poor girl) He pouts, "C'mon," He stretches a hand to your waist, "Roll over, maybe a massage will help."

Wordlessly, you comply, rolling onto your stomach, trying to adjust yourself comfortably against the pillows, tilting your head to the side so as to not suffocate yourself.

The bed dips as Joost moves from his position, a hand grazing your thigh, motioning you to pull your legs apart so he can sit between them.

You can feel Joost hovering above you as he kneels between your legs, his presence is a comforting one.

"Good morning," He mumbles, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder blade.

"Morning." You respond, silently hoping for him to kiss you more. But soon enough his thumbs press against the back of your neck, the rest of your fingers just barely resting against your throat as he softly massages the spot where you're sore.

A small gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes forcing themselves shut.

"That feel okay?" Joost asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Perfect." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

He continues for a little while longer, gentle moans leaving your mouth as he soothes your pain with the palms of his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Joost speaks again,

"Are things okay- between us? You've been short with me since I got back."

"Oh," You exhale, "-M'just tired." It's only partially the truth, you know you can't skirt around having to discuss the issues the pair of you had had at the beginning of tour for much longer, but you're hoping to divert the conversation for just a little bit more so you can revel in this moment, "We can talk about everything later. Let's just enjoy our morning"

"Okay," Joost's voice barely above a whisper, "Want me to go lower?" His hands trailing down to your shoulders.

"Mhm," You hum.

Joost kneads into the skin of your shoulders, eliciting more moans and sighs from you. His touch is just firm enough to be effective, yet still gentle, romantic.

He continues massaging down your back as you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. All tension seems to be erased from your body as Joost works his hands against you. There's no stress, no worries, only him and his reassuring touch.

Joost finds himself sliding his hands down your hips and to your thighs. He grips each thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing into the supple flesh. A familiar tightness creeps between your legs as you realize where he has positioned himself, and how close to your inner thighs his thumbs are.

You sigh as your back arches into his touch, forcing his hands a little further up your thighs. Joost continues his movements, his fingers inching closer, and closer to the inside of your legs.

"Like that?" He asks, his voice making it evident he already knows the answer.

"Yes." Is just about all you can manage out.

Joost swipes a thumb across the crotch of your panties, shivers running down your spine as he does so.

"How about if I touch you here?" He presses his thumb right above your clothed entrance, "Would you like that?"

"Please," You strain, your inner thighs pulsing with a growing arousal.

Joost's thumb ghosts over the fabric of your panties a couple times, swiping back and forth, teasingly, before pulling them to the side.

You gasp as the cold air from your bedroom meets your now exposed wetness before Joost slides a thumb through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing on your clit. He draws circles against the sensitive nerves, coaxing gentle moans from you.

You need him terribly, as enjoyable as phone sex had been while he was away on tour, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes it felt like Joost knew your body better than you did yourself, always able to make you feel a sort of pleasure you hadn't known was possible.

"Lay on your back," Joost commands, his voice still gentle. You do exactly as he says, whining a little at the loss of stimulation as his hand leaves your crotch.

You lay flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Joost's fingers find themselves in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down the length of your legs and discarding them across the room.

Perched between your legs, Joost motions you to bend them, putting you on full display for him.

"So pretty," He muses as his eyes trail your naked figure. His small praise has your body hot as you position your gaze towards him.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he stares down at you, eyes aflame with desire. You had never seen a picture so perfect, the way that the warm glow of the sun seeped into your bedroom, illuminating him just right. You marveled at the man in front of you, even after years it had felt unbelievable that he was yours.

Joost leans forward, letting his hands rest on your thighs, pulling them apart. Soon his lips are pressed to your abdomen, soft kisses being littered against your skin before they eventually trail lower. One final kiss is placed just above your clit, forcing your back to arch as you all but beg for him.

A smirk graces Joost's mouth before his tongue leaves his lips, softly licking at you, forcing a sharp, "Oh," to leave you.

His tongue circles around your clit a few more times before being replaced with his lips, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

Each new movement of his mouth against you has you whining with pure delight, his tongue slowly trailing down to your entrance before dipping inside.

"Fuck.' You sputter, your hands finding their way into his hair. Joost's tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, before pressing a kiss to it. The sensation has you gripping at the messy blonde strands of his hair, causing Joost to groan. The vibration his low voice makes against your pussy causes your abdomen to tighten, and your body to twitch in pure delight.

He pulls back for just a second, making you whimper at the lack of stimulation,

"Taste so good, schatje," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, "God, I missed this- missed your pussy."

His sweet words only make your body grow hotter, tingling with fervent arousal.

He continues to work his tongue against your cunt, skillful licks followed by sporadic kisses. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it is almost painful, loud, high-pitched moans now replace your soft whines.

Joost's lips envelop your clit, sucking at the swollen bud, his mouth is warm, wet, and unrelenting against your sensitive nerves, and you feel your legs trembling, you know you're close.

Your fingers grip Joost's hair, tight, as the stimulation almost becomes too much to bear.

"So close," You whine, but Joost doesn't seem to acknowledge your words, only continuing to push you closer to completion with his mouth. You rock your lips against Joost's face, forcing his tongue further onto you.

Your eyes force themselves shut as you feel your orgasm crashing into you, no words can escape your mouth, only strained noises as your toes curl, muscles tense, and legs twitch. Your cunt spasms under the pressure of Joost's warm mouth, your arousal spilling out of you and onto his tongue.

Joost doesn't spare a single drop as your orgasm rolls over you, the intense wave slowly subsiding as your eyes flutter open. Still, Joost's tongue remains buried inside of you, collecting your release. His lingering licks force a strained whine out of you, sore with overstimulation.

Joost eventually pulls back from you, his wet lips trailing kisses on your thighs before raising his head completely.

You struggle to catch your breath as Joost's head emerges from between your thighs, sitting up, a grin pressed against his lips, glossy from you.

You swallow thickly as you look down his body, noticing the way his cock strains against the tightness of his underwear, the white fabric spearing no detail about how he was feeling.

If he were to touch you now you'd surely cry from overstimulation, yet- somehow it seemed to be all you wanted- him, buried deep inside you.

Joost rests a hand on your thigh before turning a sympathetic gaze to you,

"Too tired to continue?"

"No," You shake your head.

"Good," His lips curling into a smirk, "I know you can hold out a little longer for me."

You nod, affirming his words,

"Need you, please." You whine, staring right at him, your sore legs parting once more as you speak.

Joost lurches forward, holding himself above you with his arms positioned on either side of you. He lowers himself slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You moan at the lingering taste of your release on him.

His kisses trail to your neck, sucking softly against your beating pulse. Your desperate hands roam his body, aching just to feel him.

"You know I love you, right?" He mumbles against your neck.

"Mhm," You sigh, content, "I love you too."

He lifts his head from where it is buried against you, looking straight down at you once more, shaking his head,

"I don't ever want to lose you, liefje." He speaks in earnest, eyes widening. Your heart feels like it's skipping beats as his intense gaze lingers on you, drawing out those feelings you had been keeping unsaid.

"I know," You whisper, "We're going to be okay." You nod, you know it. Joost nods with you, his gaze softening as he lowers a kiss to your cheek.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted his," Joost's voice is suddenly low, seductive.

"I think I do," You smirk, "And I think I may want this even more."

"Yeah," He breathes, "Why don't you show me then, mooi meisje" (pretty girl)

Joost rolls over, landing on his back, causing the bed to bounce slightly. You straddle Joost's legs, fingers trembling with excitement as they tease the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, pressing kisses to his stomach, eventually leading down to the elastic of his underwear. You can feel his breathing deepen as your lips grace his waist

You let your hand fall from where it toyed with the elastic, your palm rolling over his crotch. You feel his cock twitch under your light touch. You flick your eyes up to him, where he lays, propped up on the pillows, mouth open slightly.

You smirk as you continue to palm him through his boxers, his hips beginning to buck into your hand.

"Come on, schatje." He just about begs, hips stuttering forward. A smirk graces your lips, "Fuck, come on, I need you."

There's something of a desperation in his voice, his blatant desire for you just about knocking the wind out of you. Yes, teasing him was fun... but fucking him was definitely way better.

You bite your lip, your head lowering in a slow nod as your fingers return back to the waistband of his boxers as you begin to tug them down. He doesn't hesitate to help you out, lifting his back just slightly so you're able to pull them down his thighs, his hard cock springing from the confines of the fabric.

You give him a sheepish smile as his back returns to the mattress, leaning forward once more and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. Your firm grip causes him to grasp as you slowly begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft.

Joost's head tips back as you continue to work your hand up and down his cock. You feel your own arousal growing as you watch his face, his jaw clenching as struggled groans leave his mouth.

"Stop that," He breathes out, "Come here, want you on top of me." He beckons.

You remove your hand from him, slowly crawling up the length of his body before stopping, now straddling his upper thighs. Joost flicks his head up, motioning for you to continue. You sit up, positioning yourself above him.

"That's it," He purrs as you grab the base of his cock, lining him up with your entrance. The head grazes your wet folds, causing you to gasp, only craving him more. You look back up at Joost, waiting for permission to continue. He nods fervently, "Go on, I know you want it."

"Yeah," You sigh, maintaining eye contact with him as you begin to sink down on him. Your lips purse, forming a straight line, eyes squeezing shut as he begins to stretch you out, and you take your time to fully take him in.

"Fuck, liefje," Joost groans as he bottoms out into you.

"You want me to go faster?"

"No," Joost breathes out, "No this is perfect, take it slow, schatje, enjoy the moment."

You're fine with that, slowly raising your hips until only the tip of his cock is in you, before sinking down onto Joost once more.

Joost sits up, grabbing your hips to help guide you at a steady pace that feels good for both of you. But it's not long before his hands leave your hips, palms sliding up and down your body, the pads of his fingers grabbing at you, groping wherever he can get his hands on.

"Joost," You whine as he hits that perfect spot inside you, "Oh, fuck, Joost."

"Feels good?" He asks, knowingly, his breathing heavy, "It's like you were made for me- fuck, you were made for me." He remarked at how perfect you felt around him.

All you can respond with is a series of sloppy moans and whines, the feeling of him inside you making your brain go numb.

"That's it," He groans, "Use that pretty voice, show me how good you feel."

Joost settles his grip on your ass, his dull fingernails digging into your flesh, pinching just enough to elicit a delightful sting. Joost's handle on you once again helps you maintain a steady pace as your legs begin to tire, muscles starting to burn from your consistent movement. To further help you, he begins bucking his hips in time with your movement, thrusting into you as you sink down onto him.

The way he repeatedly hits inside you makes it hard for you to concentrate, your only focus is on the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel, each thrust forward coaxing you closer to another orgasm.

You begin to fall forward, your head resting on Joost's shoulder, as your chest collides into his. Your bodies are hot, sticky with a thin sheen of sweat, and the heat he gives off is almost unbearable as you rest against him. But the rest of your body is far too overwhelmed to sit up straight

"I love you," You slur out against his neck, dizzy off adoration and pleasure.

"I love you too, liefje," His hands lose their grip on your ass, instead his arms coming around to hold you at the waist. Joost places small kisses on your shoulder as your movements quicken, losing any pace, "I love you so much." He reiterates.

You're close, heat building in your abdomen as every muscle in your body constricts. You know you can't hold on much longer, your orgasm about to hit you at any moment now.

"I'm gonna-" You sputter, unable to finish your sentence as its broken by a sharp moan, your cunt clenching as an intense wall of pleasure smacks right into you. Your eyes flutter, your whole body twitching as your pussy spasms around Joost's cock, causing him to groan, your movements becoming sloppier as your release spills out of you, lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

"Good," Joost exhales, "Cum all over my cock, liefje."

Your orgasm soon disappears as Joost continues to thrust upwards into you, pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as you slump completely into him.

"Not much longer," He reassures, "You're doing so good."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks at the feeling, your already sensitive nerves being worked to the extreme.

Joost's hips start to staccato, his thrusts becoming sharp, causing you to yelp into the spot where your head is buried into his neck. He grips you tighter, feeling like he's about to suffocate you before with a last grunt he's spilling into you, warm ribbons of cum coating the walls of your cunt with a few final thrusts.

Your body is trembling as you attempt to lift yourself up from where you lay against Joost, your body still tingling with lingering pleasure. Your eyelids are low as you look at Joost, your face carrying an entirely blissed-out expression.

A smile falls on Joost's lips,

"Oh," He chuckles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from your cheek, "These are the only tears I ever want to make you cry."

You return a smile to him before his expression changes,

"Het spijt me, schatje" (I'm sorry, baby), His words are full of regret, "I'm so sorry for how things have been."

"I know," Your voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry too."

"Things will be better, now that I'm home," He presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I promise."

"I know- I know they will," You nod.

If there was anything you knew for certain, you knew that you and Joost loved each other too much to stop fighting for your relationship. A rough patch of a few weeks had been nothing in comparison to the countless happy memories the two of you shared.

"Ik hou van jou, liefje," Another kiss to your shoulder, "Don't ever forget that."

[justabigassnerd]

Worth The Risk

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 14.5k

Warnings - swearing, angst, fluff, Mav is a wee bit overprotective, mentions of Goose and Carole, allusion to smut at the end

Summary - in visiting your dad in Miramar you rekindle your friendship with Bradley Bradshaw, which yields unexpected results

A/N - sooo... it's a bit of a big one here lads. I wish I could tell y'all how I achieved such a feat but believe me I have no clue how I did this. this was a request sent in by @talesofreading so I hope I did the idea justice (and I'm so so so sorry it took me so long to write it in the first place). I won't ramble so as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

“Yes dad, I’m at the gate now and we’re due to board in ten minutes or so.” You say with a breathy laugh after your dad finishes asking you what feels like a hundred questions about your flight. You were visiting your dad, Pete Mitchell, in San Diego while you had some time off work. After completing your studies at college, you had landed a good gig working as a nurse in a hospital in Chicago. You had grown up sure you weren’t going to follow in your father’s footsteps and so found yourself studying medicine and making a career out of it. It was hard when your dad was constantly deployed after pissing off Admiral after Admiral, but he did make the effort to visit you when he could and now that he was settled in San Diego, you decided you’d give him a visit.

“I’ll be at the airport when you land. I’ll see you soon sweetheart.” Maverick says a smile on his face as he thinks about how in a few hours you’ll be here in person.

“I’ll see you soon, dad. I love you.” You say, smiling as you hear your dad bid you one last goodbye before you hang up. After hanging up, you look out the window, seeing the plane you’d soon be boarding. You wait patiently at the gate, passport and boarding pass in hand as you survey the people surrounding you, little groups of people, family or friends, excitedly chatting about their trip and what they’re going to get up to, couples discussing similar topics, and businesspeople, making last minute calls or typing hurriedly on their laptops.

Before long, the call for boarding to begin comes over the loudspeaker and one by one a group is called up to have their passes checked and board the plane. Eventually, you are able to board and find your seat, settling down in it and tucking your bag away while patiently waiting for the journey to begin.

Soon enough, the boarding process is completed, and the plane begins to crawl towards the runway, patiently waiting for its turn to go. Within a couple of minutes, the plane gets onto the runway, and speeds along until it’s able to take off. You watch the ground get smaller and the clouds appear. You knew you inherited a love of flying from your dad, but your love for it never pushed you to make a career out of it. You watched the clouds pass you by while you listened to your music.

After just over four hours, the plane touched down in San Diego and you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you saw the beautifully sunny weather. You disembarked the plane and made your way to baggage claim and waited with the rest of the people from the flight until your bag comes around on the conveyor belt. You grab your bag and follow the signs to where you know you’ll be able to find your dad.  You enter the spacious area, eyes searching the sea of gathered people, quickly locating your dad’s familiar jacket and you swear your smile couldn’t get any wider. You lock eyes with Maverick, and he waves before making his way over to you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Was the flight okay?” He asks, sweeping you up in a hug, holding you close as you reciprocate the embrace.

“Hey, dad. The flight was fine.” You reply, squeezing him that little bit tighter before releasing him from the hug, taking the handle of your luggage and following your dad to the car park and letting him lead you to his car.

“New car?” You ask, an amused tone to your voice as you take in the sight of the car.

“I wouldn’t say new. Figured the bike would pose a problem so I had to take the car.” Maverick says with a chuckle, unlocking the car and loading your bags into the back of the car before you get into the passenger seat, and he gets into the driver’s seat.

The drive back to Maverick’s house wasn’t long and the scenery was beautiful. You had spent a little bit of time in Miramar when you were younger, but you don’t remember much of it since you only spent a few short months there before moving away again. You were silently glad your dad had found a place to settle down and that you could finally visit him after the countless times he had come to visit you.

“You probably don’t remember much about Miramar, huh?” Maverick muses softly, glancing at you quickly, noticing your enamoured expression before returning his focus to the road.

“I don’t. But it’s so gorgeous.” You say with a grin, taking in the views, your smile widening as you take in the sight of the beach.

“I’ll make sure we go to all the best places.” Maverick says, a smile on his face as he begins to turn up the road he lived on and then soon parks in his driveway. You get out of the car and by the time you get to the back of the car, Maverick has already unloaded your bags and leads you into his house.

The house was small yet perfect for Maverick, he’d decorated it with pictures from his time at Top Gun and pictures of you growing up. He shows you upstairs and to the room you’ll be staying in.

“I’ll let you settle in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Maverick says softly before excusing himself and heading downstairs while you stay put in the middle of the room. After a brief minute, you cross to the window, taking in the view and opening the window slightly so you can hear the breeze and birds singing while you got settled in. You unpacked some of your essentials before deciding you wanted to go and hang out with your dad while you had the time with him. You head downstairs and find Maverick sat on the sofa in the living room, smiling over at you.

“I’m still feeling pretty cramped from the flight. Are you okay if I go for a walk?” You ask, smiling as Maverick nods.

“Of course, do you want me to go with you?” He offers, already bracing his hands on either side of him ready to push himself up off the sofa.

“It’s okay, you can relax.” You say, watching as Maverick stays put, thinking to himself before speaking up.

“Don’t get lost, okay?” He says with a chuckle.

“I’m not as old as you so I can rely on my phone to keep me from getting lost.” You say with a cheeky grin, pulling your phone out of your pocket and waving it to emphasise your point, laughing at your dad’s expression of mock shock.

“You cheeky shit.” He says, breaking into a laugh and rolling his eyes as you pocket your phone.

“You know I love you.” You say with a grin, starting to head towards the front door.

“I love you too. Text me when you’re on your way back and I’ll start on dinner.” Maverick says, waving you off and you grab a spare key before exiting the house and letting your feet dictate where you go.

You find yourself wandering until you reach the beach, and you find yourself smiling as you see the families on the beach, lying on towels or playing in the sand and sea. You wished you could remember the times you had spent on that same beach but all you had was photos and stories your dad had told you. As you walk alongside the beach, take in the gorgeous sights as the golden sun starts to lower in the sky.

Eventually, you find yourself near a bar, it looks like a Navy bar to you just judging by the amount of people in khaki uniforms going in and out of the bar. You stood still for a moment, watching the people going in and out, wondering if your dad or anyone on his new squadron visited that bar. As you watch the bar, you catch sight of someone in a Hawaiian shirt standing on the decking just outside the bar. You didn’t mean to stare at the stranger, but you hadn’t seen anyone since Goose wearing a Hawaiian shirt so clearly this man had good taste and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the sight.

Before too long, the stranger caught sight of you, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you realised, he was looking in your direction. Truthfully, you had no idea if he was actually looking at you or at something behind you because of his aviators hiding his eyes but the idea of this guy catching you looking at him was enough of a scare to get you to turn tail and begin your journey back to your dad’s house, shooting him a text to let him know you were on your way home.

In about twenty minutes, you enter Maverick’s house and are immediately greeted with the smell of cooking food, and you immediately know he is making you your favourite meal.

“Smells good.” You say with a wide smile, finding the kitchen and standing in the doorway, watching as your dad diligently works on the food.

“I had to make you your favourite.” Maverick replies, glancing over at you with a smile before returning his attention back to the food. You decide to help your dad out a bit and set the table and get drinks out. By the time you’ve set the table with cutlery and drinks, Maverick has finished the food and begins plating up the meals, handing you a plate with a smile. The two of you sit down at the table and eat your meals, chatting throughout and enjoying each other’s company. When you finish your meals, you help clean up, putting the dishes in the dishwasher despite Maverick’s insistence that you don’t have to. As he tells you what felt like the thousandth time to let him do it, the doorbell rang.

“Let me clean up, you answer the door.” You say, pointing towards the front door with a chuckle before turning back to the dishwasher, loading it carefully and wiping down the surfaces while you hear the muffled voices coming through from the hall.

“y/n, look who it is!” You turn and look through the doorway to see your dad entering the living room and behind him is a man sporting a shirt that looks incredibly familiar.

“I thought it was you I saw by the beach!” You couldn’t believe it. You were standing face-to-face with Bradley Bradshaw. Someone you thought you were never going to see again after that night he had screamed in your dad’s face about never wanting to see him again and leaving your house with the door slamming behind him. But here he was, standing in front of you with a huge smile and bright eyes. He’d changed a lot in the time that’s passed, he was definitely more muscular, and he had some new scars decorating his face, but above everything, he looked much more attractive than you remember him being.

“Bradley, I didn’t even recognise you!” You exclaim happily, accepting the offered hug instantly, clinging to Bradley and relishing in how gently he wrapped his arms around you, his chest rumbling with a gentle laugh.

“I almost didn’t recognise you. If I hadn’t of caught you staring, I probably wouldn’t have known you were here at all.” Bradley replies, both of you pulling apart when you hear Maverick’s amused scoff.

“Staring?” Maverick asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I wasn’t staring. I just noticed the Hawaiian shirt and it made me think of Goose.” You explain, rolling your eyes at your dad as both men laugh softly.

“Well, I’m happy to report that my dad’s impeccable fashion sense did in fact get passed down to me.” Bradley says, shrugging with a chuckle.

“So, what brings you by? Or was it just the fact you thought you saw me, so you came here to test your theory.” You ask, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow with an amused smile.

“Maybe I was testing a theory, but I wasn’t exactly wrong.” Bradley admits, grinning as Maverick rolls his eyes jokingly.

“You could’ve called or texted if you wanted to know if she was here.” Maverick says, looking up at Bradley.

“I know but I haven’t seen her in a while, so I wanted to swing by.” Bradley says unapologetically.

“I’ll give you that one.” Maverick admits, nodding his head in approval as he turns to head into the kitchen to grab himself a beer.

“Hey, tomorrow would you like to grab a drink with me at the Hard Deck?” Bradley offers, a soft smile on his face as he awaits your response.

“Sure, it would be great to catch up after so long.” You say with a smile, more than happy to spend some time with Bradley now that you know he’s in the area.

“Great! I’ll swing by tomorrow and we’ll head down together. Is six, okay?” Bradley asks, offering a time.

“Six is perfect.” You say, your smile widening by the second, excited at the thought of spending the evening with Bradley.

“I’ll see you then.” Bradley says, giving you another hug before he leaves you and Maverick, closing the door behind him and signalling that he has gone. Once he’s gone you turn to face your dad, shocked to see his raised eyebrow.

“Don’t date an aviator.” Maverick says simply, making your jaw drop in shock.

“Dad, what?” You stammer, feeling your cheeks quickly heating up at the simple statement your dad said.

“You heard me. Don’t date an aviator. It won’t go well.” Maverick repeats himself, making you even more flustered.

“Okay, firstly, me and Bradley are going out for a friendly catch-up, we haven’t seen each other since we were eighteen. Secondly, I’m not a child so I can date whoever I want, aviator or not.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest as you stare down your dad.

“I’m just trying to protect you, sweetheart. I am an aviator, so I know what they’re like. It’s better if you steer clear of dating them. I saw how you were looking at Bradley and it’s best you don’t even try.” Maverick says, sticking to his guns and trying to explain himself.

“I appreciate that, dad. But I am an adult now, let me make mistakes and figure things out for myself.” You argue, raising an eyebrow as you continue to argue your point with your dad. Instead of responding, your dad just smiled softly before walking past you and heading upstairs. As his footsteps grow quieter as he disappears upstairs, you let out a soft sigh. You weren’t even going on a proper date with Bradley. It was just a friendly catch-up between two people who hadn’t seen each other in years. Right?

Six pm the next day couldn’t have come sooner for you. You had spent the day visiting some of your dad’s favourite spots with him. You had lunch together and he even managed to coerce you into taking a quick tour of his hangar. When you had got home you had spent way too long deciding on what you wanted to wear, trying to find something that was cute but didn’t make you look like you were trying to impress Bradley. Eventually, you find an outfit that fits what you’re going for and you put it on, smiling as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You knew it wasn’t a date but the mere thought of getting to spend time with Bradley after so long was making you giddy. Just as you finish freshening up, you hear the doorbell ring and just by checking the time you knew it was Bradley and you immediately began to make your way downstairs. As you were heading downstairs you could hear a muffled conversation between Bradley and Maverick, but they stopped talking as soon as Bradley caught sight of you.

“y/n… you look… wow.” Bradley stumbles over his words, not knowing what to say.

“I’m hoping that’s a good wow.” You say with a soft laugh, smiling up at Bradley.

“It’s definitely a good wow, you look beautiful.” Bradley says, a sheepish smile covering his face as he looks at you and you feel your cheeks heating up at his shy compliment. The moment was then disturbed by Maverick clearing his throat.

“So, I’ll see you when you get back. Keep her safe, Bradley.” Maverick says, softly smiling at you before turning to look at Bradley who straightens up ever so slightly at Maverick’s gaze.

“Of course, I will, Mav.” Bradley says as you both move towards the door, bidding your dad one last goodbye before you exit the house, stepping into the warm evening air and beginning the walk to the Hard Deck, making small talk on your way to the bar.

The walk that had been twenty minutes the day before felt like it was five minutes when you were walking with Bradley. You were having so much fun spending time with him again after so long. Eventually, you reach the Hard Deck and Bradley guides you to a table, finding the quietest corner in the bar and pulling the chair out for you to sit down at, making you smile shyly.

“Thank you.” You say softly, sitting down on the chair.

“I’m going to grab us some drinks. Do you want some fries as well or something?” Bradley says, still standing as he looks down at you.

“I’ll take a beer if that’s okay and fries sound nice.” You say with a smile as Bradley nods, turning and making his way to the bar.

“Hey Penny, could I get two beers and put in an order for fries?” Bradley asks, leaning up against the bar and smiling at Penny as she approaches.

“Of course, am I starting a tab?” Penny asks, handing Bradley two beers and taking his card in return, watching as he nods in response.

“Yes please.” Bradley confirms as Penny nods, tucking his card away someplace safe for the duration of his time at the bar.

“And what table am I taking the fries to when they’re done?” Penny asks as she hands the order to one of her employees before turning back to Bradley.

“Just that one over there.” Bradley says, pointing out the table and Penny leans over the bar slightly, following where Bradley was pointing before her eyes widen in shock slightly.

“Is that y/n?” Penny asks, remembering how she’d seen you a few times when you were younger.

“It is. She’s visiting Mav for a bit, and I haven’t seen her in years, so I figured we’d catch up over drinks.” Bradley explains, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he briefly glances over at you seeing you entertaining yourself on your phone before turning his attention back to Penny.

“A catch-up, huh?” Penny asks, an amused smile on her face as Bradley blushes slightly his gaze flicking down to the bar counter before looking back up at Penny as he licks his lips nervously.

“Don’t you start. I’ve already had Mav warn me away from her.” Bradley says with a joking roll of the eyes as he takes the beer bottles and heads back over to the table placing a beer in front of you and then sitting down in the chair opposite you.

“I was beginning to think you’d run away or something.” You say with a laugh, putting your phone away and holding the beer bottle in between your hands loosely.

“Never. I was just catching up with Penny.” Bradley says, lifting his beer bottle and tipping it lightly in Penny’s direction.

“Penny’s here?” You ask, turning in your seat and looking over at where Bradley had been pointing, smiling as you catch sight of Penny working at the bar seeing her catch sight of a patron and smiling as they approach.

“She was pretty excited when she realised you were here, so I’d imagine she’ll come over soon enough.” Bradley says, taking a sip from his beer bottle as you turn back around to face him.

“I don’t doubt it.” You say with a chuckle, taking a sip of your own beer as the two of you fall into a brief silence.

“So, how have you been? What have you been up to in these last few years?” Bradley asks, head tilted slightly in his curiosity.

“Well, the Navy wasn’t really my thing, so I just went to college and ended up pursuing medicine and now I’m a nurse over in Chicago. What about you?” You say, explaining what you’ve been up to since you last saw him.

“You’ve probably figured out I’m an aviator now, but I did go off to college after the whole thing with Mav. But I’m finally where I want to be and now, I’ve got a permanent squad and a place to call home.” Bradley explains, smiling softly to himself as he thinks of how far he’s come.

“That’s incredible. I know Goose and Carole are so proud of you.” You say, reaching over and gently resting a hand on Bradley’s arm, fighting the growing heat under your cheeks at the contact yet completely missing Bradley’s slight blush too.

“Thank you. You’ve done well for yourself getting a job in Chicago. I’m proud of you.” Bradley says, getting the bravery to rest a hand on top of yours, encapsulating your hand with the warmth emitting from his.

“Thank you, Bradley.” You reply softly, unable to contain your smile.

“So… have you got anyone back home? Any partners or anything?” Bradley asks, flushing a bit redder at the boldness of the question and fights to hide his relief when you shake your head with a slight chuckle.

“No. I’ve been single since college. What about you Mr. Aviator? You’ve surely got girls throwing themselves at your feet.” You say, retracting your hand from underneath Bradley’s both of you trying not to show any upset at the lack of contact.

“Throwing themselves at my feet? Well, you’re not entirely wrong with that. But I’m just waiting for the right girl to come along.” Bradley says with a soft shrug, making your heart pound just that little bit faster at the revelation that he is single.

“Here’s your fries.” You look up at the familiar voice and can’t stop your smile from widening when you see Penny placing the small basket of fries on the table and you instantly get out of your seat to give her a hug.

“Penny it’s been so long!” You exclaim happily, grinning as she wraps her arms around you, reciprocating the hug.

“It really has, hasn’t it?” Penny says with a laugh, pulling away to hold you at arm’s length.

“If I had known you were here, I would’ve swung by sooner. Somehow dad neglected to tell me that you worked here. He had mentioned you were in the area though.” You explain as Penny shakes her head with a laugh.

“I know what your father is like so don’t worry. I won’t interrupt your time with Bradley, sweetie. Enjoy your night and if you need anything, let me know.” Penny says, giving you one last hug before making her way back over to the bar to continue serving customers. You and Bradley then dig into the fries, continuing to chat as you eat.

You had no idea how long you were at the bar with Bradley, but it felt like mere seconds when you were with him. You knew you had a slight crush on Bradley way back when you were teenagers, but it had been pushed to the back of your mind in the last few years with how life had been. But just seeing Bradley and spending time with him had brought all those feelings back and they were stronger than ever.

What you didn’t know was that Bradley felt the exact same way. Only he was struggling with the warning Maverick had issued him when he turned up to pick you up. Maverick had warned him away from you, saying he didn’t want you dating an aviator. But for you, Bradley was more than willing to go against Maverick’s warnings and risk angering him.

“I’m going to close up my tab and I’ll take you home, okay?” Bradley says after clearing his throat and you nod, waiting patiently as he crosses to the bar and closes out his tab with Penny before he crosses back over to you. When you noticed Bradley coming over you got up, following him through the bar, bidding Penny goodbye as you passed.

Exiting into the cool night are you were suddenly aware of how long you had spent at the bar with Bradley now that the moon had replaced the sun. However, you didn’t even mind. With the evening now much quieter than the previous environment of the bustling bar, you and Bradley were able to walk and talk quietly, feeling like your conversations were much more private now.

Much earlier than you would’ve liked to, you wound up at the end of the driveway to your dad’s house and you felt your heart sinking at the finality of the end of the night.

“I had a great night tonight.” You say, turning to look up at Bradley with a smile, grateful for the evening you had with him.

“So did I. It was great to catch up.” Bradley replies with a soft smile of his own.

“It was. I just wish it never had to end.” You admit softly, eyes flicking to the ground before looking back at Bradley.

“Me too. But what if we did this again sometime before you go back to Chicago? Maybe like a date?” Bradley says, biting the bullet and deciding to just go for it instead of losing his chance. But when Bradley saw the hesitation on your face, he began to second guess himself. Had he completely misinterpreted how the night had gone?

“I’d really like that, Bradley. But…” You begin, glancing over at the front door before looking back over at Bradley who softens.

“Mav told you not to date aviators.” Bradley says, nodding in understanding.

“I’m not fussed about that rule, he can’t control me. I just don’t want this to ruin your relationship with him. You just made up after everything that happened, and I’m scared I’ll ruin it.” You admit, wanting to do what you can to protect Bradley from your dad’s protectiveness.

“You won’t ruin anything. I’ve never really been one for listening to Mav’s rules anyway. I think it’s worth the risk.” Bradley says quietly, as if your dad was nearby and listening in to your conversation, while he also reached out and interlocked your hands gently smiling so softly at you that you were sure you’d melt into a puddle right there and then.

“I think it’s worth the risk too.” You admit with a smile, blushing slightly as Bradley squeezes your hand softly at your agreement.

“How about in a couple of days’ time, we have our date? I’ll find us a nice spot and I’ll text you the details.” Bradley says, growing quieter near the end of his sentence.

“You don’t have my number.” You say with a giggle, digging in your jacket pocket for your phone, unlocking it and finding your number before holding it out towards Bradley who hurriedly digs in his pocket for his phone, almost dropping it at the speed at which he pulled the phone out before typing your number into his phone and creating a contact for you.

“Done.” Bradley says with a large smile as you turn your phone off and put it back in your pocket while Bradley mirrors your actions.

“I’ll see you around.” You say softly, knowing you should head into the house and let Bradley get home himself.

“I’ll text you. Goodnight, y/n.” Bradley says softly, extending his arms for a hug which you accept almost instantly, silently loving the way Bradley’s arms wrap around you and make you feel safe.

“Goodnight, Bradley.” You whisper before pulling away from the hug and heading up the path to the front door and unlocking the door, glancing over your shoulder and smiling at Bradley for one last time that night as he smiles back and offers you one last wave before you disappear inside. Maverick had clearly left the hall lights on for you so you could navigate the house and you made your way upstairs to your room, making sure you turned off the lights as you went. Once you reach your room, you change into your pyjamas before heading to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed. Then you return back to your room and climb into your bed, pulling the covers over you and grab your phone, smiling at the text that displayed as an unknown number, but you knew it was Bradley.

‘Thank you again for a great night. I’ve not had this much fun in a long time.’

‘It’s Bradley by the way.’

You couldn’t help but giggle at the second text, imagining the brief panic on Bradley’s face after he hit send on the first message without clarifying it was him.

‘Me neither, it was nice to catch up :).’

‘Let me know when you’re home safe.’

You found yourself double texting Bradley in return, wanting to make sure you know when Bradley gets home safe. While you waited for Bradley to text you back, you texted one of your closest friends from Chicago and told her about how your evening had gone and as you expected, she was very eager to hear everything and demanded to know what Bradley was like and whether you liked him. While you were explaining how the evening went, a text from Bradley came through.

‘I’m happy to say I made it home.’

You couldn’t stop your thumbs from typing a speedy response to Bradley’s text.

‘I’m glad you made it home safe. Although I’m sure being a big strong Navy man means you’re safer than most when walking home.’

You knew calling Bradley a ‘big strong Navy man’ was probably a bit of a step too far but your thumbs were typing quicker than your brain could comprehend and you only realised what you had typed when you had hit send on the message. Just as you were beginning to type an apology, a text came through from Bradley.

‘Oh, I’m a big strong Navy man, am I?’

He knew what he was doing, and you did very little to fight back the heat growing under your cheeks.

‘You know what I meant.’

You had no idea how long you had been texting Bradley that night. You had woken up the next morning with your phone under your hand as you woke up to Maverick knocking on your door, asking if you wanted any breakfast. After responding to your dad, you flipped your phone over, unable to stop the smile from crossing your face when you saw the good morning text from Bradley. You replied to the message as you kicked your covers back, stretching before throwing a hoodie on over your pyjamas and heading downstairs to where your dad was preparing breakfast for you.

“Morning, dad.” You say with a smile, sitting at the table as Maverick places a plate of pancakes in front of you.

“Morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” Maverick asks, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before returning his attention to his own food.

“I slept well thanks, how about you?” You reply, beginning to dig into your breakfast as Maverick finishes plating up his food, crossing to the table to sit opposite you.

“I slept well. How was your evening with Bradley? Penny mentioned she saw you.” Maverick asks, glancing across at you as you smile.

“It was nice to catch up with him. And yes, I did see Penny. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she worked there.” You say with a chuckle, hoping your dad doesn’t read between the lines too much and instead focuses on Penny.

“Well, I didn’t anticipate you going to the Hard Deck so soon. I was going to invite Penny and Amelia over at some point.” Maverick admits with a light shrug and a grin as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“I’d love to see them and have a proper catch up.” You say in agreement before eating another mouthful of food. You continue to chat with your dad until you both finish your food, and you tidy everything away before you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you pull it out, smiling when you see the text from Bradley.

“What’s got you all smiley?” Maverick asks with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“Oh, just a friendly text from Bradley.” You lie, acting as if you hadn’t just read the text from Bradley confirming the time and place of your date tomorrow.

“Just friendly? Good.” Maverick says turning away and missing you rolling your eyes at his statement.

“Yeah, we know your rule.” You say, wishing your dad wasn’t as stubborn as he was, but you were also a Mitchell and held that same stubbornness, hence why you were so adamantly going against his rule. You typed out a hurried reply to Bradley’s text, telling him that the time and place he had picked sounded great and that you couldn’t wait to have your date.

You spent your day on the beach with Maverick, getting in some tanning time as you read. Penny ended up coming out to meet you with Amelia in tow. You spent time catching up with the mother-and-daughter duo, unable to believe how much Amelia had grown since you last saw her, and you loved getting to hear what she had been up to in recent years. Amelia even managed to convince you into going in the sea with her and you couldn’t help but smile and laugh with her as she attempted to splash you.

When you tired of the sea you returned to your towel, drying yourself off and sitting back down to join in with your dad and Penny’s conversations. And you didn’t miss how both your dad and Penny were acting around each other. You could tell they liked each other, they just needed to act on it.

Eventually, you and Maverick headed home after bidding Penny and Amelia goodbye, promising to keep in touch even after you head back to Chicago. And when you get home you open your phone to see messages from Bradley and you reply to them as quickly as possible, apologising for how long it had taken you to respond and picking up the conversation right up from where it had been left off. You loved texting Bradley; he could make you smile and blush like he was right there in front of you having a proper face-to-face conversation. You didn’t like that you had to lie to your dad about what you were talking about with Bradley, but he had chosen to come up with this stupid rule that had you and Bradley sneaking around like a pair of teenagers. But Bradley was worth the risk.

The next day you were in serious planning mode, you had to figure out a way to get out of the house without your dad asking too many questions or catching on to what you were going out to do. You knew the restaurant Bradley had picked wasn’t super fancy so you could get away with a nice, cute outfit that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion from your dad and maybe you could get away with saying it was another friendly hang out. Maybe you could talk Penny into hanging out with Maverick to distract him and also potentially give them the opportunity to confess their own feelings after seeing the way they skirted around each other. You had conversed with Bradley about this dilemma, and he had offered to meet you at the end of your road instead of coming to the door and you knew that was more than likely the best option you had. If this date went well and there was another, you knew your dad would get suspicious about Bradley constantly turning up at the door. After some careful planning, you and Bradley had come up with the most effective plan to ensure that Maverick did not catch on to your evening plans.

By the time the evening came around, you had already planted seeds with your dad, telling him you wanted to go on an evening walk because you promised your friend a video tour of the sights of Miramar. With that in place, you had changed into the outfit you had picked for the date and texted Bradley that you were on your way out.

“You’re heading out then?” Maverick asks, smiling at you from where he was sat on the sofa and you smile over at him, grabbing the spare keys.

“Yep! Don’t worry about waiting up for me. Katie and I can chat for hours once we get going. Maybe you could invite Penny over or something?” You suggest, fighting the urge to smirk when you see your dad blush slightly at your question.

“You figured that out quickly, huh?” Maverick asks with a soft chuckle.

“You think I’d miss something as obvious as that? Nice try.” You say with a laugh, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket and you pull it out to find a message from Bradley, letting you know he was at the end of the road waiting for you.

“Look, I have to go. Call Penny.” You say, pointing at your dad with a joking warning finger before leaving the house, looking up and down the road until you spot a figure waiting at one end of the road and head towards them, knowing instantly that it was Bradley. You make your way towards him, your smile widening when he notices you, revealing a bunch of flowers he had behind his back.

“Hey.” Bradley says softly, smiling as you take the flowers.

“Hey.” You reply, admiring the beautiful flowers Bradley had picked out, he had assembled a bouquet of red carnations, it was simple but so beautiful and you couldn’t help but love Bradley just that little bit more because of it.

“I hope those flowers are okay.” Bradley says sheepishly, offering an arm out for you to take which you do so happily, letting him lead you to where he had parked his beloved Bronco nearby and opening the passenger side door for you, letting you get in the car before closing the door, rounding the car and getting in the driver's seat, starting up the engine and beginning the drive to the little restaurant Bradley had picked. The drive wasn’t too long, and you chatted the whole way. When you reached the restaurant, Bradley insisted you stayed put while he went and opened your door for you, telling you that you could leave the flowers on the seat for now before closing the door behind you and leading you into the restaurant.

“Hi, I have a reservation, should be under Bradshaw.” Bradley greets the host with a smile who consults the list in front of him before instructing you to both follow him. You follow him through the restaurant with Bradley by your side. You were shocked to find that Bradley had managed to reserve a table by a large window so you could overlook the beach and ocean, able to see the sun beginning its descent over the horizon.

“Bradley, this is amazing!” You say, unable to keep the excitement from your tone as Bradley yet again pulls your chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before tucking the chair a little closer to the table before going to his own seat.

“I wanted to make sure we had a good first date.” Bradley admits with a light shrug as he eases himself down into his seat, both of you picking up your menus in tandem, letting out a soft chuckle as you do so. You both scan the menus, talking about which meals sounded good before you both eventually came to a decision on meals and a drink. When the waiter comes around asking if you’re ready to order, both you and Bradley nod and ever the gentleman, Bradley lets you order first before ordering his own food and drink. The waiter writes down your orders before dismissing himself with the promise to return with your drinks, so you and Bradley pick up your conversation, both of you overwhelmingly happy with how the evening is going even if the date had only just started. Soon enough, the waiter returns with the drinks, placing them in front of you before dismissing himself again to serve other customers while your food is being prepared. By the time the food had arrived, you were sure that had you been on a date with anyone else, you would’ve run out of things to say but since it was Bradley, the conversation flowed naturally, and you never seemed to have a lull in the conversation even once and before too long your food arrived, and you both began to dig in.

“I never asked the other day. But how are you finding Chicago?” Bradley asks after a mouthful of food.

“It’s good. Obviously, I’ve been out there a while but I’m enjoying myself. I have some great friends out there, but I do feel quite far away from dad sometimes.” You admit, eyes flicking down to your plate before looking back up at Bradley who smiles in understanding.

“I get that. It’s hard to be away from family.” Bradley says, a soft understanding tone to his voice which makes you feel awful. You knew he had lost both his parents before he even reached the age of eighteen.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No don’t worry, honestly. It’s good. The more I talk about them the easier it gets.” Bradley says with a gentle smile, letting you know there were no hard feelings about it. With the topic settled, you were able to start a new conversation and the rest of the night ran smoothly. When it came to paying the bill, you went to get your card out, hand reaching to hand it to the waiter, but Bradley was quicker, gently taking your card from your hand and giving his card to the waiter instead.

“Bradley, come on I can pay.” You insist, your pleas in vain as the waiter begins to process the payment with Bradley’s card.

“I asked you on this date. It’s on me.” Bradley retorts with a grin, thanking the waiter as his card is handed back to him, finally giving your card back to you, chuckling as you huff lightly. Once everything is confirmed to have gone through, you’re given the freedom to leave and Bradley gets up first and you follow, letting him guide you through the bustling restaurant until you reach the cool night air of the outside world. You head back to the Bronco, of course letting Bradley open your door for you again. On the journey back, you both continue to talk with each other, even singing along lightly to one of the songs that come over the radio. By the time Bradley pulled up on the end of your road you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink at the realisation that the date was over. You had the best time with Bradley, and you wished you could spend more time with him. Once again, Bradley made you wait for him to open your door before you got out of the Bronco, this time you brought the flowers with you.

“I had the best night, Bradley.” You admit softly, smiling as Bradley smiles in response.

“So did I. Do you think we could have a second date?” Bradley asks, a slight sheepishness to his tone as he asks.

“I’d love to. This time, I’m picking the place and I’m paying.” You insist, pointing a joking finger at him as he laughs and shakes his head.

“Alright, you can pick. I’ll still come by and pick you up though.” Bradley replies, raising an eyebrow as you let out a soft sigh and nod.

“Deal.” You say, holding your free hand out for Bradley to shake which he does so.

“Deal.” Bradley agrees, squeezing your hand ever so softly before letting go.

“I’ll text you the details.” You say as Bradley nods.

“Got it. I can’t wait.” He replies, smiling as you nod in response.

“Good night, Bradley.” You say softly.

“Good night, y/n.” Bradley replies, his voice matching yours in softness. Just as you turn to head back to your dad’s house, you decide to turn to face Bradley and then kiss his cheek softly before whispering one last good night and heading back to Maverick’s house. As you head back to the house, you missed Bradley flushing a deep red with an awestruck smile on his face, watching as you walked down the road, unaware of the effect you had on him.

When you reached your dad’s house, you noticed that his bike was absent which made you tilt your head slightly in confusion before just deciding to shrug it off and enter the house. You were surprised to find none of the lights on, you flipped them on and found a note on the little shelf where the key bowl was. You opened the note and saw your dad’s scratchy handwriting, informing you that he’d gone to Penny’s house, making your eyebrows raise slightly in shock.

“Didn’t think he’d actually listen to me.” You mutter to yourself, heading through the house to try and find something in the kitchen that could act as a vase for the beautiful flowers Bradley had gotten for you. After searching for a few minutes, you were able to find something that would work and you filled it with water, putting the flowers in before heading upstairs to your room. You place the flowers on the bedside table before getting changed and then heading into the bathroom to clean your face and brush your teeth before getting into bed. You chose to stay up for a while to text Bradley before you both eventually decided to go to bed with the promise of talking in the morning.

The next morning, you woke up and were somewhat unsurprised to find that your dad was still out, so you looked around in the kitchen and found some food to make yourself some breakfast. As you prepared your breakfast, you texted Bradley a good morning message, smiling to yourself when he replied not long after you had sent your message. You continue to text him as you eat your food, unable to rid yourself of your smile as he continues to send you texts. In between messaging Bradley, you find yourself looking online for things to do that could potentially make an interesting date night for you and Bradley. You had decided that you weren’t going to actively look for a restaurant as you wanted to branch out a little and find something different for the two of you to do and as you searched you eventually found a nice-looking mini golf place along the beachfront and when you sent some pictures of the place to Bradley and proposed it as the location of your second date just for a little bit of fun he was more than onboard with the idea. The two of you decide on a time to meet later that day. You knew it was probably a bit soon to have a second date the day after the first, but you weren’t permanently in Miramar, and you were both aware of it and wanted to make the most of you being here.

Just as you finish cleaning up after yourself after finishing your food, you hear the front door open and Maverick call into the house, letting you know he has returned. You called back to Maverick, letting him know that you were just in the kitchen. It didn’t take him very long to head to the kitchen and you could tell from his face that he had a good night.

“So… how was Penny’s?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and smirk as your dad rolls his eyes at your words, heading to the coffee machine, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee.

“I’m pretty sure you can figure it out for yourself.” Maverick mutters, silently willing his mug to fill up with coffee quickly.

“I’m sure I can.” You say with a soft chuckle, focusing on cleaning up after yourself.

“Did you have a good time calling your friend last night?” Maverick asks, finally picking up his mug and taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, she loved seeing the beach. She couldn’t stop talking about how jealous she was of the beach sunsets.” The lie came quickly and easily and thankfully your dad didn’t think much of it, just nodding lightly and continuing to sip on his coffee. It didn’t look like your dad was awake enough to hold a functioning conversation, so you quietly dismissed yourself, heading upstairs to shower and get changed so you’re ready for the day.

After showering, you enter your room to get changed and you smiled when you caught sight of the flowers on your bedside table. You couldn’t wait to spend another evening with Bradley. You don’t know how you were going to keep lying to your dad, especially if your next date went as well as the last and you were going to come back to Miramar in the future. You wished your dad could be okay with the idea of you and Bradley being together. You valued your dad’s opinion so much and you thought he of all people would be okay with you potentially dating Bradley. Bradley was an aviator, but he wasn’t one of the aviators your dad was talking about when he enforced the rule. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you finish getting ready for the day and head back downstairs and find your dad fast asleep on the sofa.

“You are the only person I know who could drink coffee and fall asleep right after.” You mutter quietly to yourself, picking up the empty mug and taking it to the dishwasher as you reminisce on all the times your dad would doze off so soon after having a cup of coffee. After the brief tidy up you debate your next move. Part of you wanted to go and hang out with Bradley, but you didn’t know where he lived, nor did you want him to get sick of seeing you before your second date. So, you ended up deciding to just entertain yourself, you had a book, and the beach was nearby so you decided to take yourself down to the beach to read and soak up the sun while you could. You packed up a small bag with your book and a couple of other little things you figured you’d need while you were out before leaving a little note on the coffee table in front of your dad so he wouldn’t panic when he eventually woke up.

After you left the house, you slowly made your way towards the beach. It had so quickly become one of your favourite spots in Miramar and it made you happy that your dad had finally been able to settle down somewhere as beautiful as this. You sat yourself down on the towel you had brought with yourself and opened your book, eyes beginning to scan the pages, getting immersed in the world you were reading about. There were a few times when cocky Top Gun trainees would whistle to get your attention and then flex and show off in front of you, all of them unaware of you rolling your eyes beneath your sunglasses. Those were the type of aviators you had vowed to avoid. And they didn’t know that your heart had already been stolen by a much kinder and gentler aviator. One who was more than likely their superior. Once you stopped paying them any mind, they grew bored in trying to get your attention and instead found someone else who would give them the attention they wanted. You were able to get through a good chunk of your book with the sounds of the beach surrounding you. Just as you decided to pack up and head back home, figuring you had been out long enough, you caught sight of a family playing on the beach, the father scooping his son up and holding him close as the boy giggled and hugged his dad. The sight made your heart melt, and it made you wish all the more that you could remember the time you had spent in Miramar when you were little.

After tearing your eyes away from the sight, you started to make your way home, still finding yourself admiring your surroundings with every step you took. It didn’t take you long to make your way back to your dad’s house and just as you entered the house, you heard the tv playing in the living room, letting you know that your dad was now a bit more awake. You then head into the living room, greeting your dad as you enter the room, smiling at him as he greets you in return.

“Did you have a good time at the beach?” Maverick asks as you ease yourself down onto the armchair, nodding as you sit down.

“It was nice to just relax and read my book. I don’t get to do that much back in Chicago.” You say, glad you took the time you had to take care of yourself and relax at somewhere as beautiful as the beach.

“I’m glad you got a chance to relax. It must get pretty busy with your job, huh?” Maverick muses, realising he’s never truly sat down and thought about how busy your life can be.

“It’s a lot of long hours. But I knew what I was getting myself into when I pursued this career.” You admit. You had inherited a lot from your dad, one of which was your willingness to put in the hard work to get yourself where you wanted to be in life.

“I probably don’t say this enough but I’m so proud of you.” Maverick says softly, smiling over at you which makes you smile at his words.

“That means a lot, dad. Thank you.” You say softly, both of you standing from where you were sat and crossing to each other, hugging each other tightly. It wasn’t that your dad didn’t tell you he was proud of you, even if he thought he didn’t say it enough, in fact, he had said it to you a lot growing up. When you graduated college, you were sure he said it a hundred times just at the ceremony alone. Every time he told you that he was proud of you, it made your heart swell. All you ever wanted to do was make your dad proud.

You decide to spend the day spending time with your dad, talking about things and even coercing him into telling you a few stories from when you were little and lived in Miramar. It was nice to hear some stories from your childhood, especially when Goose, Carole, and Bradley were involved in the stories. You knew your dad missed his friends, and that was part of the reason you didn’t want your potential relationship with Bradley to drive a wedge between them. They were both the last thing left they had of Goose and Carole, and you’d never forgive yourself if you ruined their relationship after they had just mended it. When it grows close to the time you agreed to meet with Bradley, you begin to excuse yourself, getting up from the sofa.

“Where are you off to tonight?” Maverick asks, watching as you get up and begin to cross to the doorway so you can freshen up.

“I found a mini golf place down by the beach and Bradley kindly agreed to come with me for a friendly match.” You say with a grin, hoping your dad doesn’t think too much about Bradley being mentioned.

“You’ve seemed so much happier now you’ve reconnected with Bradley.” Maverick says, clearly not missing the effect Bradley had on you since you started talking with him again.

“I didn’t realise how much I missed him until we started talking again.” You admit with a light shrug, trying not to give too much away about your feelings for Bradley.

“Well, I’m glad you two have been able to be friends again.” Maverick says with a nod, silently dismissing you and you take the chance, heading upstairs to change and freshen up for meeting Bradley.

It takes practically no time for you to freshen up and get ready for your second date with Bradley. You were silently thankful that you had the sense to pack some cute outfits for your visit because now you didn’t feel like you had to panic and find clothes that might work. When you finish getting ready, you head back downstairs after checking your phone and seeing a text from Bradley saying that he’s on his way, grab your key, and bid your dad a quick goodbye as you make your way out the door.

Once more you make your way down the road, realising that you beat Bradley to where you agreed to meet. You waited patiently for but a couple of minutes before Bradley walked up alongside you.

“Funny seeing you here.” Bradley says jokingly, both of smiling as you turn to face him.

“I never could’ve expected to run into you here.” You say, a joking sarcastic tone to your voice as you let out a breathy laugh before giving Bradley the hug he offered. After greeting each other, you both begin the walk to the mini golf place. It wasn’t too far from your dad’s house, and you enjoyed getting to walk with Bradley, especially when you had no shortage of conversation topics. It didn’t take you long to reach the mini golf course and as you got closer; you began to take longer strides to get out in front of Bradley to ensure you could pay for it. Thankfully, Bradley stuck true to the deal and patiently waited for you to pay, only stepping closer when the employee at the booth handed you two golf clubs and two golf balls, taking one of each from you.

“Let’s play.”

As you make your way around the course, taking it in turns while making light conversation with each other each step of the way. As you get ready to take your first shot on the course you had moved on to, Bradley quickly steps forward.

“Hey, do you mind if I just do something that might help you really quick?” Bradley asks, making your focus shift from the golf ball to him.

“Yes, of course.” You say with a smile, waiting as Bradley takes a step closer to you.

“Do you mind if I touch you?” Bradley asks, his voice soft as he studies your expression, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Yes.” Your voice is just as soft as his. Bradley then gently rests his hands on your hips, missing how your breath hitches in your throat at the gentle contact.

“Is this okay?” His voice was soft against the shell of your ear, making your heart pound ten times faster.

“Of course.” You mumbled, fighting the feeling of your cheeks heating up as Bradley carefully adjusted your body, his hands remaining on your hips even after he had finished adjusting your body.

“There, try taking a swing now.” Bradley says, removing his hands from your hips and taking a small step back, making you hold back a frown at the sudden lack of contact. You try to focus yourself after Bradley had stepped away, focusing on where you needed to aim for, and not shifting your body from where Bradley had carefully placed it. You took a deep breath before swinging your club, hitting the golf ball with just enough power to bag yourself a hole-in-one.

“I did it!” You cry out triumphantly, holding your hands up in celebration.

“There you go!” Bradley praises, pulling you into a hug, and carefully avoiding your golf club.

“You’ve given away your best trick. Now I’m going to kick your ass.” You say smugly, laughing as Bradley shakes his head jokingly.

“You’re definitely a Mitchell with that competitive attitude.” Bradley jokes, making you roll your eyes before you and Bradley begin to move on to the next part of the course. It doesn’t take the two of you much longer to get through the remainder of the course and by the time you had finished, you had practically stopped keeping score, instead just focusing on having fun with each other. After returning the clubs to the employee at the booth, you took a little walk further down the beach, finding a wall to sit down at to watch the waves crashing gently against the shore. You and Bradley continue to converse quietly, taking in the beautiful sights the San Diego beach has to offer. At a lull in the conversation, Bradley turned to face you, making you mimic his actions.

“Are you okay, Bradley?” You ask softly, analysing his expression, trying to anticipate what he might say to you.

“Can I kiss you?” Bradley’s question took you off guard, yet you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding in excitement.

“Yes.” You replied breathlessly, and at your response, Bradley gently cupped your face in his hands, inching closer before his lips met yours, your eyes fluttering shut at the contact. The kiss was perfect, it was like putting together two pieces of a puzzle. You didn’t want the moment to end at all but eventually, the need for air became too much and you both gently pulled away from each other, smiling as you locked eyes.

“That was… wow.” You say breathlessly.

“I’m hoping that was a good wow.” Bradley says with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

“It definitely was.” You reply, leaning in for another kiss which Bradley is more than happy to reciprocate.

“Do you think we could make this official? Will you be my girlfriend?” Bradley asks, watching you with the gentlest gaze.

“I’d be a fool to say no to you.” You say happily, pulling Bradley into a hug, your grin widening further than you thought possible, especially when Bradley pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as he squeezed you ever so slightly closer. You had never been happier than you were in this moment with Bradley. The two of you continue to chat, embracing each other as you watch the sunset across the horizon.

“We should probably get you home, huh?” Bradley muses softly when he feels you shiver against him, instantly shedding his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. You get up wordlessly, waiting for Bradley to follow suit and then you begin to slowly walk back together, hands interlinked as you quietly converse, nothing able to wipe the smiles from your faces. When you eventually reach the end of the road leading to your dad’s house once more, you turn to face Bradley.

“Tonight was amazing.” You say, squeezing Bradley’s hand softly.

“It was.” Bradley agrees softly.

“Looks like we have an excuse to see each other more before I leave then?” You muse softly, looking at Bradley as he nods.

“Absolutely.” Bradley says, his smile gentle.

“We can meet at the Hard Deck tomorrow. My squad will be there, but I won’t make you introduce yourself if you don’t want to though. We can find a quieter part of the bar to hang out.” Bradley then continues, carefully picking his words in an attempt to not scare you off.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your team. I believe I owe one of them a thank you for saving you and dad on that mission you went on.” You say, more than happy to meet Bradley’s team.

“Don’t thank him, it’ll go straight to his head and then he won’t be able to shut up about it for ages.” Bradley says with a laugh, thinking about how Jake would react to being thanked.

“Well, I at the very least owe him a drink for what he did.” You say with a light shrug and a smile.

“I won’t stop you but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bradley says with a soft shake of the head, making you roll your eyes with a light scoff.

“I can handle egotistical aviators any day of the week.” You say, folding your arms across your chest and raising your eyebrow as if accepting a challenge.

“You know, I’d pay good money to see you put Hangman in his place.” Bradley admits, chuckling to himself at the mental image of you taking Jake down a peg or two.

“If I need to, I will.” You say with a soft laugh, both you and Bradley knowing that you can absolutely handle yourself. You then both fall silent for a brief moment before Bradley clears his throat softly.

“I should probably let you head back.” Bradley says, nodding in the direction of Maverick’s house, not wanting to keep too long.

“Thank you again. Tonight was amazing.” You say, taking Bradley’s jacket off and handing it to him.

“I should be thanking you.” Bradley says, slipping his jacket back on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.” You whisper, stepping closer to Bradley and placing a quick, soft kiss on his lips, pulling away with a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Bradley whispers in response, smiling sweetly as you take a small step back offering him one last smile before turning around and making your way back to your dad’s house with a wide smile that you were sure could never fade.

When you entered the house, you were unsurprised to hear the tv on in the living room. After all, you and Bradley hadn’t been out too long, so it made sense that your dad was still up and about.

“Hey, dad.” You say, standing in the doorway to the living room, smiling as he looks over at you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was the mini golf?” Maverick asks, his focus completely on you.

“It was great. We had a good time. I kicked Bradley’s ass of course.” You say, jokingly bragging even though you had no idea who had won or lost between you and Bradley.

“That’s my girl. Want to finish watching this movie with me?” Maverick offers, patting the sofa to encourage you over. You nod and cross the room to the sofa, easing yourself down on the sofa next to your dad, relaxing back against the cushions as you watch the movie. You loved watching movies with your dad, you had similar tastes in movies, and you made funny comments to each other during the movie, commenting on a character’s choice or how you would’ve handled a situation. Partway through the movie, your dad decided to order some food given that the two of you hadn’t had any dinner. The two of you perused a menu and picked some food before Maverick placed the order. You both continue to watch the movie until the doorbell rings, giving away that the food has arrived, and you go to pick it up from the delivery driver while Maverick grabs some plates and drinks. Once all the food is plated up, you focus back on the movie, still exchanging comments and enjoying each other’s company. It felt like forever since you had been able to spend time with your dad like this and you were so grateful that you took the time off to come and visit him.

By the time the movie had finished, the food had been eaten and you were feeling the excitement of the day catching up to you, so you stood up, stretching your arms above your head as you stood.

“I might go and start winding down. I’m exhausted.” You say, a yawn spilling past your lips as you talk, emphasising your point.

“I believe you. You go and get an early night, sweetheart.” Maverick says as you pick up your plate and cup, nodding lightly at his words, heading into the kitchen to put your things away before returning to the living room just as Maverick was standing up himself.

“Night, dad.” You mumble, reaching out to hug your dad which he happily reciprocates, holding you close.

“Night, y/n.” Maverick replies, squeezing you a little tighter before releasing you. When he lets you go, you head up to your room and quickly get ready for bed, clambering under the covers and texting Bradley. You had a back-and-forth chat with him, telling him about how excited you were to see him next and how you couldn’t wait to meet his team. You also confessed that you would like to tell your dad about your new relationship with Bradley before you went back to Chicago, but you wanted Bradley’s thoughts first and he let you know that whenever you were ready, he’d be there to help you tell Maverick.

Eventually, you fell asleep and when you woke up in the morning, you remembered that you’d be meeting with Bradley at the Hard Deck, and it kicked you into high gear. You knew you wouldn’t be meeting him until the late afternoon, but you wanted to ensure that you had sufficient time to prepare for the evening. You got up and once you were showered and dressed, you headed downstairs to make some breakfast for you and your dad. As you prepared the breakfast, you put the radio on quietly for some background noise and you hummed lightly to the song playing.

When Maverick came down for breakfast, you had just begun plating it up and you handed him a plate just as he began to sit down. You then poured him a mug of coffee, placing it down on the table with a smile before focusing on plating up your own food. You then sit down opposite your dad and the two of you have a chat over dinner. You decided you’d spend the day with your dad before heading to the Hard Deck, so you laid out a plan with your dad since you knew you didn’t have much longer left in Miramar. You were excited to do some more things with your dad, especially given the number of times you’d been disappearing in the evenings to hang out with Bradley. You go with your dad to various places around Miramar that you haven’t seen yet. He even took you to Top Gun, showing you around his workplace, and even able to show you some of the jets he flew. Stepping back into Top Gun felt familiar to you, you didn’t have any concrete memories of the building, but the familiarity was overwhelming, and you were so happy your dad found himself back at Top Gun, so he not only had the familiarity but because he also had the stability of working in one place without having to move constantly. By the time you had finished the tour of Top Gun, you became aware of the time and turned to your dad.

“Hey, dad. I promised Bradley I’d meet with him at the Hard Deck to meet his team in like an hour or so. Is it okay if I head home to get sorted?” You ask, turning to face your dad.

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Bradley. Is there anything you should know about?” Maverick asks, eyebrow slightly raised as he watches you.

“Dad, it’s not like that. He just wanted me to meet his friends. Besides, I do owe one of them a drink at least for saving you and Bradley.” You reply, shrugging lightly as you explain yourself. You longed to tell your dad, but you knew it wasn’t the right time, not without Bradley to support you through it.

“Well, that’ll go straight to his head.” Maverick says with a chuckle gesturing with his head for you to follow him which you do so, trying to hide your smirk when you realise your dad has said practically the same thing that Bradley had when you mentioned buying a drink for the aviator who saved both your dad and Bradley. You followed your dad out to his car, finding it a little bit funny at the number of times he’s used the car in the duration of your stay when you know he’d much rather be riding around on his motorbike. You both get into the car and Maverick begins the drive back to his house.

Once he pulls up and parks the car, you both get out and you make your way into the house and up to your room so you can freshen up. After you’ve made yourself a little more presentable for the evening, you head back downstairs to spend a little bit more time with your dad before heading down to the Hard Deck. Just before you leave to head down to the bar, you bid your dad goodbye, promising to be back before it’s too late.

The walk to the Hard Deck was quiet without Bradley around to keep you company, but you knew you’d be seeing him soon enough. Besides, as you made your way down to the bar, you were able to appreciate the beauty around you before you had to go back to Chicago.

By the time you make it to the Hard Deck, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket making you stop in your tracks, pull your phone out of your pocket to read the message you had received from Bradley, letting you know that he was in the Hard Deck and that you could just head in whenever you were ready. Taking a deep breath, you head into the bustling bar, glancing around and quickly locating Bradley just by his Hawaiian shirt, seeing him standing with a group of people who you could only assume were his team. As you cross the room, Bradley turns around and catches sight of you, eyes lighting up as he smiles and crosses to meet you in the middle, instantly capturing your lips in his for a sweet kiss.

“Well, that’s one way to say hello.” You mumble with a smile as you both pull away slightly, smiling at each other.

“I’m just happy to see you.” Bradley confesses softly, pulling you into a gentle hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“That makes both of us.” You reply happily, eyes fluttering closed in the embrace for a brief moment before you pull away.

“Let’s get you acquainted with the team, shall we?” Bradley says, wrapping a gentle arm around your waist and guiding you over to the group of people he had just been standing with by the pool table. As you approach the group, Bradley is quick to introduce you to everyone, making sure he made it known that you were his girlfriend before he introduced everyone by name. Once you had been introduced to everyone, you turned to address the group.

“Alright, so which of you is the one I owe a drink for saving my dad and Bradley?” You ask, making the group exchange looks at the realisation that you’re not only Bradley’s girlfriend but Maverick’s daughter as well. Once they get over the initial shock of the revelation, a blond man steps forward, a cocky smirk on his face as he smiles at you.

“Well, sounds like you owe me a drink then.” He says with a smirk, leaning back against the pool table with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m a woman of my word.” You say simply, shrugging with a laugh before going over to the bar to order a drink for both you and Jake from Penny, greeting her happily as you do so. When you’ve grabbed the drinks, you return to the group, handing one of the beers to Jake which he takes happily, making sure everyone saw the special treatment he believed he was getting.

“You weren’t lying when you said it would go to his head.” You muse with a laugh as Bradley winds an arm around your middle, pulling your back to his chest as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“He’s just warming up.”

Unbeknownst to you and the others, Maverick entered the bar while you were all occupied with your conversations and sat himself at the bar, smiling at Penny as he did so. As he received his drink, he glanced over at you with the Daggers, and his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the embrace Bradley had you in, and he certainly didn’t miss Bradley pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you laughed, looking up at him with all the love in the world.

“Did you know about them?” Maverick asks the next time Penny stops in front of him, gesturing over in your direction with his head.

“No more than you did clearly. But it was obvious they liked each other the moment they had that little meet-up when y/n first came back. Bradley did mention you warning him away from her though.” Penny says, focusing her attention on a stain on the bar top and wiping a cloth along it.

“I just didn’t want her to get hurt. I know what aviators are like.” Maverick says, eyes fixed on the drop of condensation running down the beer bottle in his hand.

“Pete, she’s not a child and I’m sure she’s told you as much. Besides, Bradley looks at her like she holds the entire world in her hands. Bradley’s not like the others. Give him a chance.” Penny says softly, watching the man in front of her softly, seeing how he silently processes her words. Instead of responding, Maverick looked back over to where you and Bradley were, and he could see the look of love evident on both of your faces.

Suddenly, a patron at the bar who was clearly already much too drunk stumbled in your direction and Maverick was convinced he had never seen a quicker reaction from Bradley until right now. Bradley, with one of the arms he had wrapped around your middle, carefully manoeuvred you so that you were now behind him, and he took the brunt of the patron falling on him, immediately steadying him while shooting him a warning look. Once the guy had wandered back to his friends, Bradley turned around to face you, placing gentle hands on your hips and giving you a soft kiss, pulling away with a gentle smile before inaudibly chuckling at something you said.

“They look happy together.” Maverick says softly, thinking of how Goose used to look at Carole the same way Bradley was looking at you.

“They do. Give Bradley a chance.” Penny reiterates, looking down at Maverick who nods sheepishly.

“I’ll speak to them in a bit. I don’t want to disturb them yet.” Maverick says, turning his attention to Penny, smiling softly at her before striking up a new conversation with her.

Across the bar, you were talking to the Daggers, finding out some more stories from when Bradley had first come back to Top Gun.

“Should’ve seen him. He was a menace when he found out Maverick was teaching. Damn near got themselves killed during training with the stunts they pulled.” Jake explains, beer in hand as he leans up against a nearby table as you watch Bradley and Natasha play a game of pool against each other.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Bradley was pretty pissed at dad when everything went down, and dad’s stubborn as anything.” You say with a gentle roll of the eyes.

“I’m just glad they got past their issues by the time they went on the mission. I hate to admit it, but they’re our best solo aviators.” Javy admits with a chuckle, making you smile as Jake gawps in mock shock.

“I’m right here you know. I’m the one who saved their asses.” Jake shoots in retaliation, making you and Javy laugh to yourselves.

“What are you two laughing about?” Bradley asks with a smile, sidling up alongside you.

“Javy admitting that you and dad were among the best two pilots for the mission seemed to be a bit of a hit to Jake’s ego.” You explain, making Bradley chuckle as he reaches out to clap Jake on the shoulder then holding out the pool stick for him to take.

“Let’s step outside for a minute.” Bradley mumbles, his voice low as he dips his head near your ear so you can have a semi-private conversation with the bustling volume of the bar. You nod and let Bradley lead you towards the front door of the bar, both of you instantly stopping in your tracks when you see your dad standing near the door, a soft smile on his face.

“Can we talk?” He asks the two of you, eyes flicking between you and Bradley as you both nod lightly. Maverick then gestures for you to follow him outside which you do, stepping out onto the deck and watching the waves crash against the beach.

“Mav I-”

“Bradley, I think it’s best I do the talking here. Look I was wrong to tell the two of you to stay away from each other. Just seeing the two of you earlier was enough of a wake-up call for me to realise that I was being a dick and that you both clearly love each other. I won’t get in your way.” Maverick says, making you and Bradley exchange a look before looking back at your dad.

“Dad…” You mumble, heart softening at your dad’s gentle smile.

“Bradley looks at you the same way Goose looked at Carole.” Maverick then continues, making you look at Bradley who has a slight blush painted across his cheeks at the revelation.

“Thank you, Mav. I promise I’ll look after her.” Bradley promises, holding a hand out for Bradley to shake, instead being pulled into a hug by your dad.

“I know you will.” Maverick says reassuringly before pulling away from the embrace, patting Bradley on the shoulder, and taking a step back before you hug your dad gratefully.

“I love you dad, thank you for giving us a chance.” You whisper, only audible to you and Maverick.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, enjoy the rest of your evening.” Maverick replies, squeezing you a little tighter and planting a kiss on the top of your head before releasing you and heading back into the Hard Deck. After the door closes behind your dad, Bradley turns to face you with a grin and slightly raised eyebrow.

“Would you like to come to mine?”

It took practically no time for you and Bradley to get back to his small house, the two of you head into the living room and settle down on the sofa. As you sit down, Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side gently. At the shift of embrace, you look up at Bradley, a soft smile on your face that matches his. Before you knew it, you started to lean up to press your lips to his softly, pulling away for a brief moment to adjust yourself, turning yourself more towards Bradley and cupping his face in your hands before kissing him once more. Bradley was quick to reciprocate the kiss, bracing a gentle hand on the back of your head in an attempt to hold you closer while his other hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer in that way as well as your eyes and his flutter closed. When the need for air becomes too much for both of you, you pull away but only enough to press your foreheads against each other, eyes opening again as your hand drifts up to play with Bradley’s hair.

“I know your dad pointed it out earlier but… I love you.” Bradley murmurs, a shy smile on his face as you smile back.

“I love you too.” You reply quietly before Bradley reconnects your lips for another kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer until air is needed once more.

“I know I’ve already asked you to be my girl, but what if you stayed? Is there a way you could stay here, with me?” Bradley asks, knowing that it was probably a long shot to ask you such a question, especially when the two of you had not long got together but he couldn’t just sit by and let his chances slip by again. To his surprise, you smiled, and gently ran a hand through his hair.

“I was actually visiting for more than just seeing dad. I actually got an offer to transfer to a hospital here in San Diego. I wanted to see the area before I made a choice and… I think I have a reason to accept it now.” You say, barely able to finish your sentence before Bradley kisses you again, gently pushing you back until you are lying back on the sofa with him hovering over you.

“Well looks like we have some good news to celebrate then.” Bradley says after breaking the kiss, smiling down at you as you smile back.

“Sounds like we do.” You mumble before grabbing the lapels of Bradley’s Hawaiian shirt to pull him back down for another kiss.

“I think we should take this to my room.” Bradley mumbles against your lips, making you loosen your grip on his shirt slightly so he can pull away, pulling you up with him yet still unable to keep his hands and lips off you as you make your way upstairs to his room. Just as you reach the door to his room you begin tugging his Hawaiian shirt off, carelessly discarding it on the floor as Bradley braces himself against the door, pushing it open behind him as you stumble in after him.

You couldn’t wait to make the move to Miramar now you had Bradley. You knew he was worth the risk.

[forlix]

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫・h.h.

— an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.

words・2.5k pairing・ex-boyfriend!hyunjin x gn!reader genres・angst, mutual pining, hurt w/no resolution, established (former) relationship, Airport Scene™ warnings・implied toxicity, strong language, Not a Happy Read

a/n・dear anon who asked where this went after i posted and deleted it a few months ago & dear other anon who requested mentioned hyune angst: this is for u, my loves

“I’m outside,” was how you were greeted over the phone earlier, in a tone so callous and cold that you barely recognized the speaker. Barely.

“Sorry, you’re what?”

“You have a flight today, right? I said I’d take you to the airport.”

One second, you were at a complete loss; the next, you thought you were going to erupt with how much you felt and how much you wanted to say, the weight of the situation hitting you with full force. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, had just materialized outside your home with no warning at the ass crack of dawn and suggested you get into a car alone with him for an hour.

As if that wasn’t the very last thing you wanted to do.

Briefly, you reflected on how you parted ways; you wouldn’t say the breakup was malicious, but it certainly wasn’t amicable, either. The longer your relationship went on, the more questions you raised—important and unavoidable considerations of your future together, none of which Hyunjin could give you substantial answers to. Whether it was because he couldn’t or because he simply didn’t care to try, you didn’t know. But the fact that you had to ask yourself that at all was enough for you to take a step back.

Distance morphed into passive aggression. That, in turn, precipitated constant conflict. The starlight that you saw in Hyunjin fizzled further with every biting word and slammed door. The resulting supernova was far from the beautiful spectacle you’d been promised in your astronomy textbooks.

Standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment was your fallen star in the flesh.

“Let me do this, Y/N."

You’d gone silent for what felt like whole minutes before Hyunjin spoke again.

"Please," he added. You perceived how the word weakened towards the end, some of the frost in his voice displaced by quiet exasperation.

It was these observations, plus the time displayed on the clock hanging above your bathroom door, that prompted you to take your luggage in hand and leave your apartment. You were going to miss your flight if you stood there, glowering silently, for any longer.

When you emerged into the frigid morning, you spotted Hyunjin’s silhouette immediately, and something inside you came undone, as though a knot had been doing itself over and over since you and him parted ways. Your eyes locked together, your gaze contemplative, his a little surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect you to accept his offer.

The first word that came to your mind was exhausted. You could tell that the shadows on his face weren’t just products of the lone streetlight above his head; he had his back curved in a slouch that made him look a few inches shorter than he was. You were reminded of a balloon with an indiscernible opening somewhere on its surface, gradually and inevitably deflating.

Much to your irritation, the second word to surface in your mind was beautiful. Hyunjin’s normally sharp features, from what you could see beneath his hood, were bare and smooth from fatigue; thick strands of dark hair, longer than you remembered, fell effortlessly over his forehead and his cheekbones; his figure somehow looked even broader, leaner when fitted in the loose material of a hoodie and sweatpants.

He was the spitting image of a man you used to know, who looked just like this whenever he wandered into your bedroom at the end of the day, whenever he wrapped you into his arms and littered kisses over your skin until sleep overcame the both of you like a warm, clear tide, whenever he greeted you with a smile that shone like the tropical sun the next morning.

You were standing in front of a ghost.

You broke eye contact first, averting your eyes to your luggage instead. Just in time to see and feel his hand brush against yours when he took your suitcases from you and loaded them into the trunk, all without saying a word.

Now, twenty minutes have passed since Hyunjin started driving, and forty remain before you reach the airport. The vehicle is deathly silent save for the drone of wheels against pavement and wind whistling against dusty windows. You haven’t looked at Hyunjin since you met him outside your place. Instead, your eyes are fixated on the lights of Seoul and the way they flicker out of sight one by one as you drive further away.

And you remember.

The different memories you have of this car blow through your mind like you’re skimming a flipbook. That time you burst into tears mid-drive and Hyunjin pulled over on the side of the highway, giving you his undivided attention as you ranted about the terrible day you’d had. That time you noticed a paparazzi van stationed around the corner and the two of you sank so low in your seats that you had to later unfold yourselves from beneath the glove compartments. The assorted dog-shaped air fresheners you bought for him, a new one hanging from the rear-view every month (except the one that resembled Kkami, which stuck around for almost a year). The caffeine-flavored kisses shared over the cupholders between the seats, one person tipping over the drinks precariously, the other moving to catch them with a soft huff of laughter. The extra hoodie he kept in his backseat for if you ever accidentally underdressed when you went out together. The playlist you curated together, always playing quietly in the background.

You never gave this car a second thought when you and Hyunjin were together, but it is only now that you realize the place felt a little like an extension of home, of him.

The silence becomes fucking excruciating.

You are not sure if Hyunjin is interested in speaking to you. You’re less sure if you even have anything to say to him. But you open your mouth anyway.

“Thank you,” you say, hardly audible. “For doing this.”

A pregnant pause follows. Hyunjin probably wasn’t expecting you to start a conversation—neither were you, to be fair.

Little do you know that he has been trying and failing to string together a sentence since the moment he started the engine, and hearing your voice feels like clouds parting on a foggy day, a singular ray of sunshine settling on his cheek.

“It’s no trouble,” he returns. He’s quiet for a while after this, and you’re beginning to think the conversation is already over when he clears his throat.

“How are you feeling? About the trip, I mean.”

“Good. I think it’ll be nice to get away from Seoul for some time.”

Your choice of answer is intentional, and you can tell by Hyunjin’s lack of immediate response that he picks up on this.

“And you?” You return. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, thanks. The members and I went to the states a few days ago, finished up album promotions there.”

“Oh, right.” He’d told you about this; they’d been in Japan prior, if you remember correctly. “And everything went well?”

“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”

“When did you get back?”

You don’t expect him to hesitate at such a simple question, but he does.

“Few hours ago,” he mumbles.

This takes you a few seconds to process. And then, so surprised at his answer that you can no longer help yourself, you finally lift your gaze to the side of Hyunjin’s face.

Your eyes comb over the fluorescent lights of the highway illuminating the slope of his nose; the weariness clouding his irises; his teeth latched gently around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying another word.

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you, too, only for a few seconds and more out of anxiety than anything. But you have long mastered the art of reading the fine print of his facial expressions, and that brief interval is enough for you to catch what hadn’t been there the last time you’d looked him in the eye: the true reason why he’d hardly set his bags down on the dormitory floor before he was leaving again, piling into a car and going to you; the same entity that you know is etched all over your face, too.

Yearning.

He is the one who looks away first this time, with a soft snap of his head like he has to force himself to do it—but the damage has already been done.

“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath, and you mean it in every sense of the word.

And it’s so unexpected (and so damn true) that it wrests a laugh from Hyunjin’s lips, the sound every bit as light as it is dark. The bittersweet smile that it leaves behind on his face mirrors helplessly onto your own.

You don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the drive.

The sun has risen by the time Hyunjin pulls up to the curb of the international terminal, but there’s hardly anybody around at this time of day, so he doesn’t mask up before stepping out of the car. He places your suitcases in front of you, then holds up a finger as a silent gesture of wait right there—and he dashes up the curb, beelines towards the line of trolleys, and pulls one over. 

You feel a helpless warmth in your fingertips as you haul your suitcases onto the metal platform together. Even now, he’s taking care of you, as thoughtlessly and naturally as respiring.

“Is that everything?”

“I think so.”

And the two of you find yourselves two feet apart and facing each other, examining your counterparts as if the answer of what the fuck to say now lies in the curves of their cheeks, in the purse of their lips.

But all you obtain from looking at Hyunjin is a glimpse of that wicked entity again, yearning, now in the form of eyes softened by the sunrise and lips parted by forbidden words, sitting readily on the tip of his tongue.

You feel a deep, hollow sadness within you, derived from knowing and hating that no amount of yearning will change the reality that he’s not yours anymore.

“Have a great trip,” Hyunjin says at last. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will,” you answer. “Thank you again. Get some rest today.”

Your arms move to push your trolley, but not before they nearly twitch in his direction with how much you want to hug him goodbye. The last thing you see before turning around is his hand in the air, and then you enter the airport, wondering vaguely if you will ever see him again.

You're in a bit of a numb state as you check in your bags and step into the line for security. The last hour has left you feeling like your heart and mind have filled with static—the kind that shows up when there are too many television signals in the air, all of them unintelligible and amorphous.

But then there is a shout of your name behind you, so urgent that the familiar voice cracks over the last syllable, like bone breaking upon boulder. You turn around.

The white noise clears.

The soles of Hyunjin’s sneakers echo as he runs across the mostly-empty airport; his hood has been knocked down and his long hair set free, combed backward by the wind; there are other eyes on him, but he is only looking at you, something else burning in his gaze now, something certain and familiar. 

You move your suitcases aside and extend your arms, your pulse racing with anticipation—just in time for him to positively crash into you. He very well could have hurt you with how quickly he’s moved toward you, but the very instant his skin meets yours, he’s gathering you so tightly and securely in his arms that he cushions his own fall, costing you only of the breath in your lungs.

And the two of you fuse together like a cosmic collision, imperfect but quintessential. The moon’s craters themselves.

He knots one hand in your hair and cradles the back of your neck with the other; you form fists around the fabric of his hoodie, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. And you feel the tears come at last: tears of relief, of regret, of remembrance.

There are a billion things Hyunjin wants to say to you then. He wants to thank you for loving him. He wants to blame you for loving him. He wants to tell you that it was all worth it for him, so long as he was once the reason that you smiled. He wants to convince you—and himself—that nothing was meant to last forever, that the two of you were destined to burn out, the same way even the biggest and brightest of heavenly bodies have shelf lives too.

But there is one train of thought that overshadows the rest. It rings louder and truer than anything he has ever known and emerges straight from the chambers of his heart.

“I—” He sounds shattered when he speaks, his voice muffled where his lips touch your skin, his words a rasp that is only audible to you. “I still—”

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing your watering eyes. “Me too.”

And you think the shaky “fuck” that leaves his lips is an apt summary of the absolute mess that the two of you have found yourselves in: entirely and obtusely enamored with the person who has proven themselves to be incompatible with your love, time and time again.

You are only willing to pull away far enough from Hyunjin so that you can look at him, his cheeks now damp with saltwater and flushed with emotion, his dreary eyes swimming with adoration and sorrow. You cradle his face with both hands, and he drops his arms to circle around your waist. His fingers lace together against the small of your back.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you murmur. You wipe at his tears with your thumbs, touch your forehead to his. “We’re gonna be okay, Hyun.”

His reply is so sad and so small that your heart feels like it’s being carved out of your chest with a blunt pocket knife. “When?”

You don’t know the answer.

You don’t know the answer when you finally go through security, the final boarding call for your flight booming through the intercom, Hyunjin’s face buried in his shaking sleeves.

You don’t know the answer when you return to Seoul a few months later, and Hyunjin is not there to give you a lift this time.

You don’t know the answer when your birthday passes and you still receive texts from Hyunjin’s parents, wishing you well, reminding you to take care of yourself. Nor do you know the answer on the birthday after that, or the birthday after that, which is when the texts stop coming.

You won’t know the answer for a very long time—so much so that you spend years of your life doubting there’s an answer at all. But you find it one day when you least expect it, and it congeals in your mind like expired milk, numbs your mouth like the strongest of anesthetics. 

You have your answer then, but you don’t want it.

You never have.

🔖・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[thef1diary]

Royally Fucked | Two

— Rekindled Autonomy

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

─────────── ♛ ───────────

Juliette walked briskly through the palace halls, her heels clicking against the marble floors. Daniel walked beside her, his pace matching hers effortlessly. Behind them, a few guards trailed, managing the carefully packed luggage for their trip.

“We’ll be departing in an hour,” Daniel began, his voice calm and steady. “The flight is approximately three hours. Once we arrive, we’ll head directly to the hotel where I’ve arranged for a private suite. Security measures will be put in place at all locations we’ll be visiting.”

Juliette nodded, noting the precision in his briefing. “And the charity event?” she asked.

“It’s scheduled for tomorrow evening. Today you’ll have time to rest or attend to any other matters. I’ve coordinated with local security to ensure seamless protection throughout our stay,” Daniel replied.

Juliette sighed, feeling the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. The upcoming charity event was crucial, not just for her but for the entire kingdom. As the sole representative this year, all eyes would be on her, scrutinizing her every move. This heightened her unease about the sudden change in her routine, with Daniel replacing Oliver. If she had a few more days with Oliver, she would be at ease, having known him well. But now, with a new face and unfamiliar habits, she would have to adapt quickly to maintain her composure and fulfill her duties effectively.

As they continued walking, she couldn’t help but notice Daniel’s professional demeanor, despite her initial reservations about his cheerful personality. His efficiency and attention to detail were impressive, even in the short time she had spent with him. Though she remained cautious, she couldn’t deny his competence. For now, he had yet to make a mistake, and that gave her a small measure of reassurance.

Juliette cast a sidelong glance at Daniel. “You’re covered all bases, it seems,” she remarked.

“I aim to please, Your Highness,” Daniel responded with a bright grin.

As Juliette and Daniel made their way through the main palace doors towards the waiting convoy, she noticed the lineup of vehicles prepared for their departure. The primary car, sleek and black, awaited them at the forefront, accompanied by a second vehicle carrying additional security personnel. Behind them, a support vehicle handled their suitcases for the trip.

“Your ride awaits, Your Highness,” Daniel announced with a flair, opening the door to the primary car. With a slight bow, he ensured Juliette settled into the back seat before closing the door and taking his place behind the wheel.

As they pulled away from the palace, Juliette glanced out the window, the familiar sights of her home fading into the distance.

Daniel glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Is there anything you’d like to add to our itinerary, a place you’d like to explore?”

Juliette turned her gaze from the window to meet Daniel’s eyes in the rearview mirror. His gaze momentarily felt intrusive, especially with her mind focused on the upcoming event and little else, she felt like he could read her thoughts. She feigned thoughtful consideration of his question, lightly tapping her chin with a finger while avoiding direct eye contact.

Shaking her head gently, she replied, “not really. Let’s stick to business and back, that’s how it always is with Oliver. It’s risky going off-plan.”

She realized immediately that she hadn’t meant to compare Daniel to Oliver so directly, especially since Daniel had done nothing wrong as of yet. Glancing out the window again, she hoped her slip up hadn’t given him the wrong impression.

Daniel’s expression remained calm as he drove through the city streets, his focus on the road ahead. After a moment, he spoke, his voice gentle yet firm. “I understand your concerns, Your Royal Highness. Safety is important, but you know, I’m your bodyguard. It’s my job to worry about your safety, not yours. If there’s anything you want to explore while we’re there—or anywhere—please don’t hesitate to let me know. It’s my responsibility to find a way to do it safely.”

Juliette appreciated his reassurance, though she remained conflicted. Oliver’s approach had always been cautious and predictable, which kept her secure but somewhat stifled. Daniel’s openness to spontaneity was both refreshing and unnerving. Despite his words, she still wondered how she could navigate this newfound freedom without compromising her responsibilities or endangering herself.

As they approached a red light, Daniel turned to glance at Juliette, his gaze soft and understanding. “Your safety is my priority,” he affirmed, his tone unwavering. “I’ll keep you informed every step of the way so you’re never in the dark. But if you find yourself worrying about your safety with me by your side, then I’m not doing my job properly.”

He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips as he waited for Juliette’s reaction. “And one thing you should know about me, Your Highness,” he continued, his tone lightening slightly, “I always ensure I do my job well.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite her best efforts to maintain a composed demeanour. As they continued their journey, Juliette found herself pondering what else she might want to do, a luxury she hadn’t allowed herself to consider before. Thoughts of exploring new places, trying different things, and perhaps even visiting a quaint cafe she’d heard about, lingered in her mind. She remained lost in these musings for the rest of the car ride, the idea of Daniel as her bodyguard slowly growing more appealing.

Finally, they reached the airstrip. Daniel exited the car first, opening her door with a polite gesture. Juliette stepped onto the tarmac, the sleek polished exterior of the private jet gleaming in the sunlight. A set of stairs extended down to meet her, each step lined with plush carpeting. As she ascended, a gentle breeze passed through her hair, giving her a sense of serene anticipation.

At the top of the stairs, the flight crew greeted her with warm smiles and respectful bows. “Welcome aboard, Your Highness,” the lead flight attendant said, her voice courteous and professional. “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your flight more comfortable.”

Juliette nodded graciously, feeling a touch of royal pride mixed with appreciation for their attentive service.

Inside, the plane was the epitome of luxury and exclusivity. Soft, cream-coloured leather seats lined the cabin, each one spacious enough to recline fully. The walls were adorned with subtle, elegant accents of gold and rich wood paneling. Overhead, soft lighting cast a warm glow, creating an ambiance of comfort and refinement.

As she settled into her seat, Juliette ran her hand over the armrest, feeling the smooth, supple leather beneath her fingers. In front of her, a small table was set with fine china and crystal glasses, ready for an in-flight meal. The air was lightly scented with a delicate floral fragrance, adding to the overall sense of opulence.

Daniel had entered the cabin behind her, giving her a reassuring nod before taking his seat nearby. Juliette felt a surge of excitement and a renewed sense of freedom, one she hadn’t realized she lacked until it was offered to her. She began to appreciate the subtle yet profound difference Daniel brought to her life.

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As the plane cruised smoothly through the sky, Juliette relaxed into the plush seat, savouring the luxury around her. The soft hum of the engines and the gentle sway of the cabin created a sense of calm. She glanced over at Daniel, his attention occasionally flicking to the view outside.

The conversation flowed easily between them, and Juliette found herself more comfortable than she had anticipated. She was surprised by how Daniel’s easygoing nature seemed to balance the formality she was used to.

“You seem awfully dressed up for a flight,” she teased, her tone light. “Aren’t you going to relax a bit? The king isn’t here to see you.”

Daniel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Even though the king appointed me to you, I work for you, so you tell me, Your Highness.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. “In that case, I suppose I could ask you to relax a bit. Surely, you’re not always on duty.”

Daniel's smile widened as he nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing up. He unbuttoned his blazer and removed it, revealing a crisp white dress shirt beneath. As he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, Juliette’s gaze was drawn to the tattoos that were unveiled—delicate designs that hinted at a story beyond the palace. As he turned, his shirt clung slightly to his back, accentuating the subtle contours of his muscles, and the shoulder gun holster strapped above his shirt was an indication of his duty as a bodyguard.

She caught herself staring, her eyes lingering on how his shirt stretched over his shoulders and down to his defined arms as he turned to face her. Daniel noticed her gaze and with a playful glint in his eye, chose to sit in the seat right next to her.

“Is there something about my attire that’s caught your attention, Your Highness?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.

Juliette quickly averted her gaze, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Just…assessing the level of professionalism,” she retorted, attempting to regain her composure.

He chuckled. “Well, I must say, your scrutiny is most flattering. But if you’re hoping for a less formal look, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until night falls and we’re in our hotel room.”

Juliette faked a gasp, her eyes widening in mock surprise. “Wait, did you actually pack something other than suits for this trip?”

Daniel grinned, leaning in slightly. “You caught me. I did manage to pack a few casual pieces. But let’s keep that between us, shall we?”

Her curiosity piqued, Juliette leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “So what’s the plan for these casual pieces? A secret mission off-duty?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, his tone matching hers. “Or maybe just for a quiet night where I’m not on high alert. You didn’t expect me to wear a suit to bed did you, Your Highness?”

Juliette smiled, the playful banter easing her nerves. “Touché, but I must say, the idea of seeing you out of your formal attire is intriguing.”

Daniel chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “I will keep that in mind. Speaking of secret missions, have you decided on where you want to go?”

She nodded, causing Daniel to spark up, leaning closer as he solely focused on her next words. “Ever since you mentioned charming the guards with pastries, I’ve been craving some myself. I’ve heard there’s a quaint little café in the city that’s supposed to have the best pastries. What do you think?”

“Pastries, huh?” Daniel’s smile widened. “I think that sounds like an excellent mission. We’ll make it our first stop once we land.”

Juliette blinked, momentarily surprised that he had actually agreed so readily. Quickly, she composed herself, adopting a more regal posture. “That’ll be great, thank you, Daniel,” she said, trying to mask the underlying excitement with a tone of practiced poise.

He nodded respectfully, yet his grin was unwavering. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness. Besides, a trip to a café sounds like the perfect way to start our adventure. And I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind trying those pastries myself.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to see if they live up to their reputation,” Juliette replied, her formal demeanour softening ever so slightly. She was trying to maintain the image of a composed princess, a role she perfected over the years. Yet, with Daniel, the anticipation of the simplest pleasures were difficult to conceal entirely.

As she looked out the window, watching the clouds drift by, Juliette found herself reflecting on how different this trip felt. It wasn’t really the café that excited her, but the newfound ability to choose where she wanted to go. She hadn’t realized how much she had been missing out on the simple joys of life until now.

As a princess, she was accustomed to making decisions, but they were always governed by the pressures of maintaining an image of poise, perfection, and adherence to strict safety protocols. Over time, she had lost sight of the fact that her choices were often not truly her own. The act of making a personal decision now almost felt foreign, a habit she believed had vanished under the weight of her controlled life. Daniel’s presence, his easygoing nature, and his genuine interest in her happiness were making her see things from a new perspective and slowly rekindling a sense of autonomy she hadn’t felt for years.

Juliette felt a flutter of excitement, looking forward to not just the destination but the journey itself.

As the plane began its descent, Juliette looked out the window. The vast landscape below slowly became more defined, the daylight bathing the city in a warm glow.

Once the plane had landed and taxied to a stop smoothly, the flight crew efficiently began preparing for disembarkation. Juliette stood, smoothing her dress while Daniel buttoned up his blazer, back in bodyguard mode.

They exited the cabin, stepping onto the tarmac where a sleek black Bentley awaited them. The vehicle’s glossy finish reflected the afternoon sun, emphasizing its luxurious appearance. An attendant approached Daniel, handing over the keys with a respectful nod.

Daniel took them with a grateful smile and moved to open the back door for Juliette. Before he could, she placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“I’d like to sit in the passenger seat if that’s okay,” she said, her eyes meeting his.

Daniel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

With the flight crew quickly loading their luggage into the trunk, Juliette made her way to the front passenger seat and settled in. Daniel joined her in the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and starting the car.

When the engine roared to life, Juliette noticed Daniel’s smile, the rumble of the powerful vehicle palpable underneath them. She couldn’t help but comment on it with a smile tugging at her lips. “You seem very comfortable behind the wheel, do you like driving?”

Daniel’s grin widened, a gleam in his eyes. “Absolutely. I guess you could say I've got a passion for driving. Every time I start one up, I still get tingles.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Daniel continued, his hands deftly maneuvering the car as they pulled away from the tarmac. “I could probably drive with my eyes closed.”

She laughed softly. “I hope you don’t plan on trying that anytime soon.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” Daniel replied, his tone playful. “I’ll keep my eyes wide open on duty.”

The cityscape began to unfold around them as they left the private jet behind, heading straight for the café she had mentioned. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, Daniel skillfully navigating the traffic with a blend of confidence and finesse.

Soon, they arrived at the quaint little café. Daniel parked the car smoothly, the powerful engine settling into a quiet purr before shutting off. They both stepped out, the enticing aroma of fresh pastries already wafting through the air.

Daniel conducted a quick scan of the surroundings, his professional instincts still at work. He subtly assessed the area for potential security concerns and ensured that the entrance was unobtrusive yet secure. He also mapped out any security cameras as well as any other possible threats. Once satisfied with his brief check, he glanced at Juliette, who was genuinely smiling while taking in a deep breath, savouring the moment.

When she glanced at him, he returned her smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”

Juliette led the way into the café, her excitement barely contained. The interior was as charming as the exterior suggested, with cozy seating, vintage décor, and an array of pastries displayed in an inviting glass case.

As they entered, a warm greeting from the café staff welcomed them. Juliette's eyes sparkled as she scanned the menu, her attention drawn to a selection of pastries she had heard about but never tried. Daniel, maintaining his usual demeanor, stayed close, his awareness subtly tuned to the environment even amidst the relaxed atmosphere.

Juliette turned to him with a grin. “So, what’s your recommendation? I’m open to anything you think is worth trying.”

Daniel chuckled, scanning the display of tempting treats. “I’d say we start with a few of their specialties. They’ve got a reputation for their éclairs and croissants. And I hear their hot chocolate is pretty excellent too.”

Juliette nodded enthusiastically, her gaze lingering on the pastries. As they approached the counter to place their order, Juliette couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation. For once, she was making a simple choice without the constraints of royal duties or security protocols overshadowing her every move.

Daniel, meanwhile, kept an eye on the café’s patrons and the entrances, ensuring everything remained as secure as it should. His relaxed demeanor and focused attention balanced well, allowing Juliette to enjoy the moment fully.

With their order placed, they found a cozy table by the window. As they waited, Juliette couldn’t help but glance at Daniel, noting how effortlessly he combined professionalism with a genuine interest in her enjoyment.

Their conversation flowed easily as they chatted about their favorite pastries, their personal tastes, and even some light-hearted anecdotes. Juliette felt a rare sense of ease, her usual reserve melting away in the comfort of the café and Daniel’s company.

As they shared their treats, Daniel teased with a playful smile. “I told you, a little charm and a few pastries go a long way. Might even win you some hearts.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that what you plan on doing?”

He shrugged casually, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Once they finished their pastries, Juliette and Daniel returned to the car. The drive to the hotel was smooth, and soon they were pulling up to a luxurious, historic building that exuded elegance and charm. The grand entrance was adorned with polished marble and gold accents, and the hotel’s opulent façade glowed warmly in the late afternoon light.

Daniel parked the car and stepped out first, quickly arranging for their luggage to be unloaded by the hotel staff. He then opened the door for Juliette, his professional demeanor in place but with a subtle hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

Juliette took a moment to admire the grandeur of the hotel before turning to Daniel. “Thank you for a wonderful start to the trip,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of genuine appreciation.

Daniel smiled, his eyes twinkling. “This is just the beginning, Your Highness.”

They entered the hotel together, the soft click of their footsteps echoing in the elegant lobby. The day promised new experiences, and as they approached the check-in desk, Juliette felt a rare sense of anticipation. It was a feeling she hadn’t indulged in for a long time, and it was one she was beginning to savour.

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NO TAGLIST

[multifandomgirl08]

Just Pretend - MV

Ex!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Rekindling of Past Relationship)

Summary: It had been a few years since you had seen Max. Since you had left him in Paris.

Warning(s): Flashbacks to verbal argument, google translated Dutch (Do I have to warn for this? Isn't it just implied at this point?)

A/N: Based on the song Just Pretend by Bad Omens. I have another few song-based fics that I'll end up adding to my masterlist that are for F1. And a second part is in the works for the Mini Verstappen Series, should hopefully have that up soon!

Words: 2.8K

Formula 1 Masterlist

It had been a few years since you had seen Max. Since you had gotten into that huge fight in his hotel room and left him in Paris. The words ever ingrained in your brain.

“I need you with me.” He pleaded to you, standing in his black dress pants and a white button-down dress shirt that was only slightly undone at the collar. 

“You’re only asking me to move in with you so that it’s easier for you. Not because it’s what you really want.” You spat back at him.

You had similar arguments before, where he would plead with you to stop working and move to Monaco with him. The thought was nice and all, but it wasn’t realistic. You couldn’t just spend your days lounging around Max’s apartment doing nothing. You needed a job to keep you busy.

You didn’t even spare him a look, just tossed your things into your suitcase and took your passport out of the safe before slamming the hotel room door behind you.

After that, it was all a blur. You called a cab, and got a ticket on the next available flight home. You had never heard from Max. Did you even want to?

You had been together for almost two years. You didn’t really think that it had anything to do with the breakup, in fact, it was probably the distance and the constant travel. It felt like you never saw him anymore.

In the years since you had ended things, you had gotten a promotion at work that allowed you to work from home full-time. You only had to show up to the office once every six months. It also meant that you could travel more often.

It was the first time that you had gone to Paris since the breakup. You and a few of your friends had planned the trip which was mostly shopping and trying a few restaurants.

You had spent the day before walking around the city. You found a dress that you were really excited to wear to dinner tonight. One of your friends made plans for some restaurant that you had never heard of, so you put on your dress, and heels, and made sure to grab your bag before getting a taxi to the address that she had texted.

When you had gotten to the restaurant it was quiet, and had a covered patio area. It was nice, with soft music playing while the other patrons chatted while they ate and sipped on their wine.

As your friends arrived you couldn’t help but start talking about what you had done the day before given that none of you had a set itinerary for your trip, you just explored the city.

“What about you, Y/N?” Your friend asked.

You went into detail about the dress that you were wearing and the sweet woman who had talked to you when you bought the dress. You were just about to reply to the question of who it was made by when you saw a familiar pair of shoulders sit down in a chair a little further down from your table. You weren’t sure if it was who you thought it was, but you let your eyes fall to your plate.

“It’s umm,” You said clearing your throat. “Chanel.”

It was something that Max would have bought you if he was with you in that shop. You had to try to keep your eyes off the back of that guy's shoulders, even if all you wanted to do was look at him until you found out if it was Max. It couldn’t be Max, he was working. He was always working during the start of summer.

You had avoided looking over at the table again and just focused on your friends and the dinner that you had before you. It was easier that way, blocking out the rest of the world until you left.

You had split the bill between everyone and then got up from your table to leave.

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you as you followed your friends out of the restaurant.

It was Max’s voice. Your name still rolled off his tongue so perfectly in that distinct way only he had said your name. You had told yourself that you didn’t miss him, but hearing him say your name left your mind spiraling through all those things you claimed you didn’t miss: the way that he left dishes in the sink after you made dinner, or that he left his glasses half haphazardly on his driving sim. You kept telling him they would break if he didn’t take better care of them.

One of your friends gave you a look, asking if you wanted them to wait for you. You just shook your head in answer before she made the call me gesture. You gave her a nod in understanding before turning to see Max as he walked closer to you. You wanted to shift uncomfortably where you stood but just waited until he got closer to you.

It had been a long time since you saw him, you could see the subtle changes. His facial hair was finally growing in. He had lost the baby fat on his face, he looked good, happy.

“Hey, Max.” You said when he finally stood in front of you.

“What are you doing in Paris?” He asked. 

Before Max, you weren’t much of a traveler, but thanks to him, you grew to have an appreciation for visiting other places and exploring. He got to travel all the time for work, while you didn’t. He had promised to take you to so many places when you were together. Paris had been one of them.

“Girls trip.” You said, hoping that it would answer his question enough. You almost wanted to lie to him and tell him that you were there to see someone, but couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Right, I…” He started to say. “I just didn’t expect to see you here, not after…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

Yeah. You weren’t sure if you could be in Paris again after you had been here with Max. How things ended here with Max.

“It’s good to see you again.” You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine.

“Yeah, you too.” You didn’t really know if you wanted to keep talking to him. It felt awkward, and you were just uncomfortable. But you couldn’t help but look at him and take in all of the changes. You wanted to know so many things, and at the same time, nothing at all. You wanted to ask him if he was happy. If there was anyone in his life. But you didn’t.

“I should probably go.” It was too easy to leave him standing there. You gripped your bag in your hand and turned away from him. 

“You were wrong.” He said just after you turned your back to him, his hand now on your arm. You couldn’t help but slightly shiver at the feel of his skin against yours. He knew that was your weakness. It always did you in. “What?” You questioned not bothering to look at him. “When you said that it wasn’t what I wanted.” His voice was steady, making it more pronounced how sure he was of himself.

You closed your eyes at his words. Why did he have to bring that up? Why couldn’t he just let it go? You had. You had buried the past before you moved, you buried your Redbull jacket that Max had gifted you one year in a box and never opened it again. You shoved it in the back of your closet; even if you were tempted to go in and wear it again, you knew better.

You felt the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You wanted to wipe them away or force them back inside. You didn’t want to let Max see you cry.

“I kept pushing you. That’s why you didn’t want to go further with me,” He started to say. “I was away too often, I kept making promises that I never lived up to.”

As he kept talking you knew that Max was blaming himself. For whatever he thought he lacked while you were together, and that wasn’t the truth. Or at least not your truth. You just weren’t ready then, you were only 20 and everything with him had been moving fast. You didn’t want to go 200mph in a relationship. It would crash and burn before anything else, pun intended.

“I didn’t call enough, and I kept pushing you to quit your job which wasn’t right.” You had to stop Max, as much as those words would have been appreciated a few years ago. Hearing him admit that all those arguments you had about you quitting your job just felt odd. Maybe now that you were working from home, you understood how much you liked not having to constantly deal with being in an office space. Max hadn’t been right to ask you to quit your job, but he had made a fair point about being at home. It gave you more freedom to do what you wanted.

“Max… Please, please just stop.” You stood there for a moment before turning to him and held up your hand so he could see that you didn’t want him to continue. You didn’t want him blaming himself. Although there had been problems in the relationship, you were happy when you were with him.

It was easier to live your life with Max around, he always enjoyed laughing and having a good time, but he was in no way a party animal. He was sweet and down to earth despite the fact that he made more money than one person knew what to do with in a single lifetime.

Your eyes met his and you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. It was too easy to walk closer to him. His hands moved up your waist like no time had passed at all. His hands felt warm against the chiffon of your dress, you closed your eyes at the feel of his fingers fisting into the fabric.

“Max.” You whispered against his lips. He looked to meet your eyes silently asking if you wanted this.

You leaned towards him a little more, lightly feeling his lips brush against yours. Max deepened the kiss pulling you flush against him. Your arms moved around his shoulders, falling into the familiar dance that you did.

One of his hands moved to cup the side of your face, holding you there carefully. You could feel that his grip was getting lighter, his hands weren’t moving like he wanted to tear your clothes from your body.

It was like he wanted to take his time with you and cherish it. As if he would never be able to touch you again like you were fragile, breakable. He pulled back from you, looking into your eyes. He looked at you the same, he didn’t love you any less after all of this time.

“Take me back.” He murmured. You haven’t expected him to say that. You thought he would suggest sleeping together, one last time after everything. “Take me back and we can try again. I’ll do my best to make amends for all I did wrong back then.”

You couldn’t really find the words. You still tried to piece together your thoughts. After Max, you tried to date again. Your heart had never been in it. Like it was waiting for someone.

You didn’t think that it was waiting for Max to fix it after he helped break it the first time.

“I don’t know if I can Max.” You didn’t want to hurt him, you were just honest with him.

“Please, mijn liefje. I’ve waited long enough. I could barely let you go the first time.” This was news to you, from the few female friends that you still had from the world of F1, you had only ever heard stories about Max in passing. It was mostly about his career, never anything about his personal life, and you had thought it was because they knew that you didn’t want to hear about Max.

You never considered the reason that Max never reached out after Paris was because he had let you go. He had let you live your life without him. He had put what he thought you wanted above him. He had pretended that he was okay without you.

As you met his eyes you could see that all of his courage was slowly fading away.

You didn’t know if you should take this as a sign to give Max another chance. Your trip had been planned only a few months in advance while Max’s race schedule was planned 8 months in advance. You being in Paris at the same time as him couldn’t be a coincidence. And if it was one, then… you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Stay with me, ‘til the morning.” He pleaded as a last attempt. “Then if you never want to see me again. I won’t make you stay.” You knew that Max didn’t have a problem with going after what he wanted, that was why he was so successful when it came to his career. But you were surprised that he was just willing to let you go after all this time apart.

“Just til the morning.” You said. You could give Max until the morning. It would hopefully give you enough clarity if you could even give him another chance.

Spending the rest of the night with Max had been easy, you fell back into the rhythm of old conversations, and physical touches that seemed to come like second nature. Once you had done that he couldn’t seem to let go of you. You ended up back in your hotel room curled up against him on the couch with your legs over his lap as you talked about what he had been doing in the years that you were apart.

You could feel your eyes fluttering closed every now and then at the sound of his voice but forced yourself to keep them open. One moment you laid your head against Max’s shoulder and then next you were out like a light.

It had been the best night's sleep you had gotten in a long time. It was the most at ease you felt, waking up with his arms around you. Like no time in the world had truly passed between the two of you.

You looked over at him to hear the light sound of him snoring, and you couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle. Some things never change.

You saw his browns move in confusion before seeing his blue eyes open and meet yours. 

“Hi,” You said turning over.

“Hey.” He said back turning to meet you in the middle of the bed, you could see his smile grow for a moment before it diminished.

“I guess I should get going.” He was quick to move out of bed, collecting his jeans and shoes from the other side of the room.

“Max, you don’t have to leave.” You turned on your back before sitting up against the headboard.

“I do. You still don’t want me.” He wasn't looking at you.

“That’s not true.” You did want Max, maybe a little too much given how little time you had spent together. It shouldn’t have been that easy for you to want him again.

It was strange to think that this was all it took you to find your way back to one another.

“It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s that… I don’t want us to move fast again.” Max lived a fast-paced life during the F1 season. You didn’t want to rush back into anything.

“We don’t have to move fast, we were together for almost two years before I ask you to move in with me the first time. And every time after that… I knew you were going to say no.” You hadn’t said no, you had just kept fighting Max on the fact that you couldn’t because of work. That wasn’t an issue though anymore, that should make it easier now.

Max had put on his jeans before leaning against the arm of the couch before turning to look at you.

“Am I not worthy of you?” That question hit you right in the heart. Did Max feel like he didn’t deserve you?

You let out a deep breath, “Of course, you’re worthy Max.” More than anyone, you wanted to say.

“It’s just, if we do this again, we need to go slow.” You wanted to take your time with him, you weren’t the same people as when you were in your early twenties. Things had changed and you didn’t want the same outcome as last time.

“We can go slow, your terms.” He said slowly walking closer to you before reaching for your hand. You looked down at his hand before pulling him in by his neck, letting your lips meet his. There wasn't a reason to pretend that you didn’t want this again. You could no longer just pretend that you were okay without him.

[babydollmarauders]

El!hughes au, taking her to the lake house for the first time and Jack just wanting her all to himself and not letting anyone else hold her

i sit in the living room of the lake house, snuggled into Jack’s side, watching El sleep as he holds her. we never told his parents and Quinn what time we would be arriving, just that we would get here sometime today. Luke having joined us for the long drive back to Michigan. we didn’t wanna put a time limit since we didn’t know how often we would have to stop to change diapers and feed Eleanor. but i guess we happened to arrive about the same time Quinn’s flight got in, because Jim and Ellen have been nowhere to be found since we arrived.

the front door opens, and Jack and i look up to see Quinn stepping through the doorway, their parents got on his trail.

“Quinny!” i cheer, standing to give him a hug.

“hey, twinkle toes!” he exclaims, wrapping his arms tight around me. it’s no sooner than a second after we pull apart that he speaks again. “where’s my niece?”

“Jacky has her.” i inform him, pointing to my husband who sits on the couch with an excited grin. this will be Quinn’s first time meeting Eleanor in person, having never gotten a long enough break in his game schedule to fly out and meet our now three month old.

Quinn smiles and makes his way over to the couch, sitting down beside his brother and gazing at the baby.

“god, she looks so much like Jack as a baby.” he whispers, seemingly to himself more than anyone.

“i know! it makes me feel like i’m holding baby Jack again when i hold her.” Ellen smiles, standing over the back of the couch to look at her granddaughter.

“can i hold her?” Quinn asks, looking between Jack and i.

“of course!” “not right now.”

i look at Jack with furrowed brows.

“Jack, let your brother hold his niece!” i scold him, making him frown and hand Quinn the baby.

“i was holding her.” he pouts as i sit back down beside him. i smack his arm lightly.

“it’s his first time meeting her. you get to hold her all the time. don’t be rude.” i roll my eyes before setting them back on Quinn, who looks down at his niece with a soft smile.

“you guys did good.” he tells us, making me giggle.

“well, someone had to give mom a grandchild because lord knows you two weren’t doing it.” Jack jokes.

“i’m eighteen!” Luke defends himself, throwing his hands up in the air. “i have plenty of time. besides, don’t act like you planned for El.”

“oh shush, boys!” Ellen laughs. “Quinn and Luke have plenty of time to have children if they choose to do so. i’m content with this one right here.”

she scoops Eleanor up from Quinn’s arms, making Jack scoff.

“hey! i wanted my baby back.” he exclaims.

“Jack, share the baby, please.” i tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck and hanging onto him. “you’ll have plenty of time with her for the next eighteen years, i promise.”

**

i walk down the stairs in the morning, in search of my missing husband and child. it doesn’t take me long to find Jack out on the back porch, sitting in an adirondack chair with Eleanor in his arms.

i slide the glass door open, stepping out into the sunshine and find that he’s not out here alone. Jim sits beside him in a matching chair. i smile, standing behind them and watching silently as they discuss Jack’s season, which just ended. El starts to fuss in Jack’s arms, letting out tiny huffs as she moves around to try and get comfortable.

“here, let me take her.” Jim says, holding his arms out for the baby.

“no, i got her, dad.” Jack tells him, switching El around in his arms. she calms down but i can’t help but roll my eyes in annoyed humor at Jack’s stinginess with her.

**

we all sit around a bonfire, Jack holding Eleanor as i make him a s’more. he’s holding her up in the air, watching her grin in delight as he brings her back down before repeating the process, and i can’t help but smile lovingly at my little family.

“hey Jack, can you help me with rekindling the fire?” Quinn asks.

“uh, i’ve got El.” Jack responds, making me chuckle at his resistance.

“i can hold her, Hughesy.” Trevor tells him, holding his hands out to take the baby.

“nah, it’s okay. why don’t you help Quinner?” Jack asks, and Trevor just nods, standing and making his way over to help Quinn.

“Jack, babe, you gotta let people hold her. it’s how she’ll bond with them.” i tell him. “don’t you want her to be close with her grandparents, and her uncles? and even her uncle Trevor?”

“well, yeah. but she’s my baby.” he replies, and i give him an understanding smile.

“i know she is, love.”

“i just, i know i get her for longer than they do. i understand that. but, i go on roadies and i feel so bad leaving her. i just want her to myself for a while.” he explains. “i’m sure, in a few more days, i’ll be happy to let them hold her so i can do other things. but for now, i just want my baby.”

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

Larrurray! Murrarry!

The one and only, the phenomenal, the fantastic, the beyond amazingly talented perfection of a person @enabuns was kind enough to do a commission for me of Murray Hewitt and Larry Pritchard from Flight of The Conchords!

I'm so very thrilled how it turned out-- Look at the little heart on Murray's notebook 😭😭😭.

You are insanely talented @enabuns and I love how you just AUTOMATICALLY KNEW exactly what I needed when I brought you the prompt. Your art continues to bring me joy every day! Thank you so much for all you do! You are a gem!

This is dedicated to the brilliant, and splendorous @celluloidbroomcloset! Thanks for being such a whirlwind of kindness, meta, fun, and inspiration! You've helped to rekindle my love of film, and analysis, and you continue to grace us with all the Rhys/Taika verse gif-smush pairings like Larry and Murray here which we all need in these trying times! Thank you <3

[pluralsword]

ID of the 2 images in total: Snips of an Ao3 series page (of the Autosignet Cycle) showing Part 5 and Part 6 of it, Rekindling Flight and Addendum respectively, are incomplete, while Part 7, Sparkflung Trust, is complete. End ID.

just the fact part 7 is done but part 5 and 6 are not it's cosmically amusing to us. We are happy to have finally shown this is what it is right now.

The respective stories: 

Rekindling Flight: At long last, The vast majority of transformers, residing in the Planetwell Polity Alliance, are about to rejoin the largest galactic alliance, which the PPA originally helped create and was expelled from after the Unicron invasion and the subsequent thousands year long war with Functionist usurpers. But, all is not well- threats loom from all corners upon the Autobot revolution: Decepticons, Unicronists, Functionists, and deep existential problems with past, present, and future will try people from all walks of life fighting for intergenerational hope and love. Nonetheless, something new and wonderful yet old and familiar is afoot- efforts by trillions and their many subalterns are not vain: the power and practice of iterative story.

Addendum: 7 million years ago, the latest blow to gender on Cybertron is dealt by the rising Functionist tide, stirring an Arcee struggling with loneliness and aesthetic dysphoria into enraged action to help bots in the Hadean System across the aesthetic spectrum save their transformative glory and stories… in the process, she finds aid from the scientist Jhiaxus, who also offers her a new reformatting surgery to let her spark do shaping with CNA editing help. Thus begins a new chapter in her life as a founding member of the expansion of what would later be called the Anti-Vocation League alongside her beloved partner and fellow old person Codexa, while grappling with her own growing pile of pains and traumas. As the millennia carry on and she heads to space, she eventually meets Anode and Lug in the stars, and some dear moments near the present all the way through to events after Transformers: Optimus Prime #25: “Post”… where she helps some gender expansive bots, and with help from Aileron and her pals she finally gets some answers and closure to her own self, and has a reckoning with forces pitted against her for millions of years. The years after are not what she expected during most of her life prior, and she is glad for them…

Sparkflung Trust: Written for a Transformers "fanthology" and also is a tie-in to the Autosignet Cycle original continuity we have been writing - along with a bit of IDW1, Cyberverse, and Alternity. A story about transformation in many senses (surprise), including a quest for the Transformation Matrix … inside of one of the most powerful creatures transformers have ever encountered. What will the errant people on the journey realize, and will it be enough to put into practice to succeed?

[prettylittlels]

masterlist

requests are open! 🩶🪩🫧

tom blyth

he -> part 2

pov: you meet a beautiful stranger on the subway.

the movie -> part 2 -> part 3

pov: your book, the invisible life of addie larue, is getting adapted into a movie. (author!reader).

my picture

pov: you find a special picture in tom's wallet.

i can see you

pov: you notice rachel's costar is staring at the academy's annual gala. (actress!reader)

special night

pov: you perform you new song at the golden globes and you drive people crazy. (singer!reader)

over spilled coffee

pov: you spill coffe over a beautiful stranger and realize he's sitting next to you during an eight-hour flight.

old memories

pov: you and tom rekindle your relationship after working together. (actress!reader)

lando norris

you're such a dream to me

pov: you meet your favourite f1 driver and end up writing a song about it (singer!reader)

sebastian vettel

proud

pov: you make ferrari win in monza and your husband is proud of you (ferrari team manager!reader)

arthur leclerc

mon chéri

pov: you make your relationship public

carlos sainz

un verano con vos

pov: you and carlos spend the summer break with the family (argentinian!reader)

fernando alonso

just an inchident

pov: you forget to switch accounts and post a picture of you and your boyfriend in aston martin f1 racing's instagram

oscar piastri

fun

pov: you and your date blow up on social media after a video of you dsncing gets leaked

paul aron

baby tee

pov: your boyfriend repost your new song and the fans start speculating who the song is about

ollie bearman

rookie love

pov: you drive for an f1 team and when carlos gets appendicitis ollie gets to drive alongside your, and accidentaly reveals your relationship to the world

[nerdieforpedro]

What do I tell you?

Lucian Flores x plus size female reader

This fic if for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 507

Summary: You reflect on your relationship with Lucian, what led the two of you here and how it's going.

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual activity, that gold chain, infidelity mention, Nerdie keeps seeing this man peep around the corner at random times

Notes: I was supposed to be working on another challenge but this happened. It's not beta-ed. It's a follow-up to a Lucian Drabble I wrote called "What I want from you." I'll do a third part because I can't leave it alone. 👀

Special Note: I edited this one too and stuck a new graphic on it. I like it. ☺️

Main Masterlist / Lucian Flores Masterlist/ What we’ve always wanted Masterlist

He asked you to marry him. To think about it, consider it. “Just if you ever wanted to. I know I always said I wouldn’t but for you I would. Just us side by side.”

It’s a promise that you’ve always hoped for, long before you married your ex-husband. Lucian’s doing much better now. His films are well received and profiting greatly. He also wanted you both in a new house, the one you were living in reminded him of the past. 

“I want to move forward with you. Forget everything, focus on me. On us.” His large hands cup your face and you look down at his chest, buttoning one of his favorite silk floral shirts. He was supposed to be gone an hour ago, but you walked out of the shower naked and enticed him. You found that Lucian couldn’t say no to you, especially when it came to sex, not that you would say no to him either. 

Your fingers ran along his trademark gold chain after you slipped a robe on and walked him to the door. His kiss was a promise to come back before he left to the car waiting for him. “You’re well worth the later flight cariño (sweetheart).”

These past six months Lucian always comes back to your home. Took you out to meals and on a few trips with one overseas. 

It was new and good, your ex-husband eventually stoped taking you places and going on more business trips alone. That’s why you allowed Lucian in, at least that’s what you told yourself. It wasn’t true, you’ve always wanted Flores. At different points, you didn’t think he wanted you as more than a friend, but then you both became more to each other. Neither of you were in the best of places to make it work. 

The night you first had Lucian within you again, it was at one of your husband’s functions. He wasn’t paying attention to you again, leaving you to flutter around the room and listen to idiot financial guys talk numbers that you didn’t understand.  You don’t know why Lucian was there, but he was.

Outside, slightly cool. The air electrified your skin as he held your leg up, your hands in his fluffy hair while your bodies rekindled their connection. Lucian had you keep your panties on and watched as you walked back over to your husband. Hair slightly messy, hickey on your chest - hidden under part of your dress and the indentations on your ass and the back of your legs from the siding of the house. “Mi chica sucía (my dirty girl).” Lucian called after you before going back to the party himself, you two exchanged numbers later, things continued from there. 

Now you feel you may be trapping him. Not that he knows. Ever since that party. When are you going to tell him? It can’t wait. 

Lucian Flores wants to marry you as you are now. He won’t want you to change, what will you do?

Part One. Part Three

Cuddlers of the silk shirt: @trulybetty @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @readingiskeepingmegoing

@yorksgirl @harriedandharassed @maggiemayhemnj @tinytinymenace @fhatbhabiee

@megamindsecretlair @magpiepills

[peachjagiya]

Please bear with me, this my very personal, very complicated life story. So...me and my partner, we've been in a very intense public relationship for 7-8 years. We work for the same firm and our employer is uber supportive of our relationship, so much so that we are on every poster of our office's "traits of the perfect colleague couples".

So anyways, we decided to quit our jobs. I've been working on my thing and my boyfriend his own. Now even though technically we should've been living together since we've been in a relationship for so long, but we don't. And since I was busy with my new business venture, I decided to take a break from my very loving relationship bcs we were so much in love that we weren't able to bear the insurmountable level of love we were throwing at each other(ik it makes no sense but that's how I roll🤷🏻‍♂️). Now my boyfriend is an influencer and busy with his own projects but he started missing me something fierce. Like he used to go on insta lives and look all mopey and depressed bcs I had not even been talking to him. Well you can argue that he could've called/ft me himself or even came over to my workplace or home but he instead chose to beg me to do joint lives infront of his millions of followers. Instead of texting me, he would ask me to come to my place infront of his followers. And now I did understand that he was very desperate for my attention, but I still didn't give him any. I used to hang out with my other buddies all the time but didn't really care about my sad bf to even give him a visit. He did the same tbh so you can't blame only me on this. He has this bff (whom we both despise jfyi), for whom he flies to different continents to be with when the bff is on work sched. Now if he can take such long flights, why can't he drive to see me when we are in the same city? Maybe he prefers flying over driving?? Wow I neve thought of that...that changes everything 😮. Should I relocate?

So anyways, after ignoring his melancholy and yearning for close to a year, I've finally decided to go on some trips with him,with just one catch, our holidays will be recorded and made into a vlog series for his yt channel. I could've chosen the better option of travelling privately, but how would that help us rekindle our romance? Imo the best kind of rekindling is done infront of millions of eyes and atleast 20 crew members who also give us directions on how we interact with e/o, that's my version of couples therapy😌.

Now I've seen some people speculating that he's closer to his bff, based merely on the fact that they'd been closer even before I met them and that that bff (whom we hate with every fibre of our being) and my bf spend a lot of time with each other, time he could've been spending with me, etc etc. And some people even say they can see love brimming in their eyes for each other, which is just plain bs imo.

Now how do I shut those a holes up? The ones who are logically, practically and realistically right about my relationship being nothing but friendship? Also, am I a good boyfriend? Imo I am the best one out there mainly bcs no matter how much I ignore my bf, he still pines over me like a sad alpha 😏

Please help me O wise people of taekook land 🙏🏻.

"Should I relocate?"

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

You're too funny for me, anon, because it took me until "insta lives" to realise. I'm dumb.

💜

[ayyy-pee]

Strangers in Love

Chapter 8 - Malaysia

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: You did it. You and Kento have rekindled your romance, gotten to know each other again. Things couldn't be better. It's been a few years now, you and Kento saving up just for this moment. Now it's time to really enjoy each other.

Genre: Divorced to Lovers AU

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Divorce, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus (vaginal), Implied sex, Creampie, Arguments, Ex-Husband Nanami Kento

Art by: K

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 380 with service from Tokyo, Japan to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage beneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing Malaysia Airlines. Enjoy your flight.”

You stretch your legs out, sighing at the spaciousness as you relax into your seat. The large cabin you share leaves you more room than you know what to do with. You’ve never been on a flight this nice before. It was usually a coach seat for you, struggling to shove your carry-on into the overhead compartment and trying your best not to smother the stranger in the middle seat with your ass.

This time was different. 

This time, you splurged on first-class and all of the amenities that came with it: free drinks, nice meals, seats that had so much room they could convert into private beds, the works. You splurged on luxury because you deserved it.

“Comfortable?” A familiar, deep voice asks next to you.

You glance over to the blonde man beside you and grin. This long awaited trip was finally happening and you couldn’t contain your happiness. Leaning over, he meets you halfway as you press your lips to his. He hums into the kiss, his large hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck and pull you closer. All you can think about is how you can’t wait for this adventure you’d be on after this long plane ride to Malaysia with your lover, Kento.

“So comfortable. I’m so glad we waited a little longer to save up a bit more for these seats,” you say, kissing him once more before pulling away. You lean back into your chair. “This is going to be the best flight I’ve ever had.”

“Agreed,” the man brings his hand down to hold yours in your lap. “And the best trip. I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”

“Me too, Ken,” You giggle to yourself. “It only took what? Like ten years and a divorce?”

Nanami chuckles beside you, nodding and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “Well worth the wait, love.”

You and Nanami have been dating for about four years now and everything has been great. Of course you have your ups and your downs, arguing every now and then, but it’s a complete 180 from your marriage. You’ve moved in together again, the apartment feeling like a blend of both you and Kento. You have Friday dinner where you cook together (well, mostly Kento), you sit down for the week and you make sure to talk, really talk about your days, anything new and your feelings. 

Work no longer interrupted your routines. Nanami was sure to take a few days off a month to spend time with you and to simply relax. On those days, you took short trips outside of Tokyo to smaller towns to explore. You tried new foods, drinks, took part in activities you would have never experienced when you and Nanami were together the first time.

Things feel familiar and new all at the same time. Kento is so differentt…in a good way. You’re happy.

The flight attendant makes his way down the aisle, checking passengers and their belongings. He nods curtly to you and Nanami as he moves along. 

“What do you want to do once we’ve arrived?” Nanami questions, checking his seatbelt and adjusting his neck pillow, then doing the same for you. You roll your eyes playfully, shooing his hand away. Since you’d resumed dating, Nanami was more protective of you than he’d ever been before. He walked you to the train station daily, met you outside of your office after work, checked in with you when either of you were out to be sure you were safe. It was cute. A much appreciated change from him.

“Well, we need to stay up and fight the jetlag so we can…” you hum quietly, mentally kicking yourself for not letting Nanami build an itinerary like he’d wanted.

“Should’ve let me build an itinerary,” he mumbles next to you. He reaches into his pants to pull his phone out of the pocket, leaning over to show you his screen. 

“You built an itinerary, didn’t you?”

“Not an itinerary,” he corrects. “Just a few places I thought you may enjoy the few days we’re in Kuala Lumpur before we head to Kuantan.”

Nanami’s phone vibrates in his hands, a notification from an unsaved number rolling down on his screen. He sits back, pulling his phone away, fingers quickly moving across his screen before he switches his phone off and places it back into his pocket. He clears his throat quietly and you don’t miss how the tips of his ears are suddenly a bright red. 

Strange, but you don’t think too much of it.

“What was that?” You ask, trying not to sound suspicious.

“Hmm?” Nanami plays dumb. “Oh, nothing important.”

You can see the way Nanami’s jaw ticks as he turns his head to look out the window. He’s thinking hard, likely debating on if he wants to tell you what the text says. You don’t want to pry though. Nanami is a shy man, no matter how confident he came across to others. When he was ready to confide in you, he would.

“Alright,” you tell him. “Let’s go over the list, then. See what we’re going to do when we get there since it’ll be pretty late.”

The plane bell rings throughout the cabin. You and Nanami look on as the flight attendants line the row and go over the safety instructions. Once they’ve finished, they take their seats. Shortly after, you feel the plane begin to speed up, faster and faster until you feel the wheels lift off of the ground.

Nanami has his fingers laced through yours, squeezing subtly as he watches the plane cruise higher and higher into the air. 

Another cabin ding.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 380. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. The time is 12:25 pm. Weather looks good and with the tailwind on our side we are expecting to land in Kuala Lumpur approximately fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. The weather in Kuala Lumpur is clear and sunny, with a high of 30 degrees celsius or about 86 degrees fahrenheit for this afternoon. If the weather cooperates we should get a great view of the city as we descend. Cabin crew will be coming around in about twenty minutes to offer you a light snack and beverage. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight.”

Nanami lowers the window shade, leaning his head back against his seat.

“Actually, will you mind if I sleep for a bit?” He asks, voice already dripping with exhaustion. You giggle quietly next to him. Nanami - ever the planner - had hardly slept the night before in anticipation of this trip. He packed and unpacked his bag, your bag. He’d probably redone his secret itinerary over and over to make sure it was perfect. You’d taken trips together in your “new” time together. He’d taken you to Sendai to meet his old colleagues and friends from his time living there after your divorce. You’d traveled to Kyoto together for his company’s Christmas party. Even then, you’d never seen Nanami so all over the place before traveling. 

“Of course, Ken. Get some rest. We can talk plans later.”

It takes only a few minutes before you hear Nanami’s light snores next to you. You can’t stop the small smile spreading across your face as you close your own eyes. You were finally on your way to Malaysia together. You hoped this trip was everything you both wished for it to be.

It doesn’t take long for you to let sleep take you as well, jetlag be damned, your fingers still intertwined with Nanami.

----------

When you land at the airport, Nanami collects both your bags before you head to pick up your rental car. You’re sitting in the front seat as he drives, carefully glancing at his phone where the navigation directs him.

“I’m so hungry,” you whine dramatically next to him. He chuckles.

“I tried to wake you up when the stewardess came by. You wouldn’t budge.” He exits the highway.

“You could’ve waved a carrot under my nose and I would’ve woken up. I’m starving.”

Nanami laughs loudly at this, a laugh from deep within his chest. And your cheeks heat up even after all this time. Because hearing Nanami laugh like that is so rare…and reserved only for you. The sound makes you relax, a smile plastered to your face as you sit back in your seat and enjoy the rest of the ride.

When you arrive at the hotel, it’s early in the night. The moon is high in the sky as you enter the lobby and Nanami takes the lead, checking you both in and carrying your bags to your room. The room is nice, a large and luxurious suite. Nanami really splurged when he made the reservation.

There’s a dining table with a beautiful, large bouquet of tropical flowers in the center, a gorgeous mix of red and yellow petals and long green leaves. You’d never seen anything like it.

“Wow, this is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed in,” you say in awe while Nanami moves past you to the suite’s bedroom. He sets your things down and stretches before taking a seat on the bed. He’s on his phone while you wander into the bedroom after him, looking through the suite. There’s a small bar cart next to the large balcony doors with an empty glass and bottle of smoked whiskey sitting atop, no doubt for Nanami. He does love a glass before winding down for the night.

You peer out into the night, the city of Kuala Lumpur still active. The skyline is lit with a beautiful array of white, golds and blues. The Menara Kuala Lumpur is lit a gorgeous shade of purple. And it hits you that you’ve finally made it to Malaysia with Nanami Kento of all people. You would have never guessed you’d end up here. There’s a strange feeling beginning to form inside you and it’s making you emotional. You can feel the sting of tears in your eyes before Nanami’s voice pulls you back to him.

“It’s a little late, but would you like to get some food? There’s a night street market nearby with plenty of options to choose from.”

You subtly wipe your eyes, turning to face your boyfriend. “Yes! Let’s go.”

----------

The market is not insanely busy, which is nice. After hours of sitting on the plane, you were eager to stretch your legs. Less people meant less standing around struggling to maneuver through a crowd.

Nanami squeezes your hand next to you as you walk together, grabbing your attention.

“Anything specific you’re craving?” He asks, eyes scanning the different stands and their options.

You hum, looking around. “I’m open to trying new things. I mean, when’s the next time we’ll be in Malaysia?”

“That is true,” Nanami agrees as he comes to a stop in front of a stand. There are so many options here, you think you may be able to try all Malaysian cuisine in just this one spot. The worker is friendly, smiling patiently as you both weigh your options.

“I think I’m going to try the char kuey teow,” Nanami decides, pointing up at the menu. The worker repeats the order, nodding as he writes it down. He then looks at you, waiting.

“I think I’ll do the…” you shift your weight on your feet, taking another second to choose. “Okay, I think I’m going to do the satay and the rojak.”

Nanami tells the worker your order, the worker nodding and taking his payment. He waves you over to a set of tables next to the booth to sit and wait. You sit next to each other, Nanami’s hand never leaving yours.

“Do you know what you ordered?” Nanami asks, to which you laugh.

“No, but I did say I’m open to trying new things.” Nanami nods, smiling softly. You catch the glint of humor in his eyes and you have to ask: “Why? Do you know what you ordered?”

“Definitely not,” he snorts, chuckling. You lean your head against his shoulder, laughing harder than before.

One thing you enjoyed about your second time around dating Nanami was his openness and his ability to allow himself to let go. Even before the divorce, he had a hard time simply letting himself enjoy the little things. You were glad to see this had changed.

The stand worker brings your plates over and sets everything down. You both thank him graciously as you look your dishes over.

Your first plate - the satay - consists of chicken skewers. It’s beautifully seasoned and grilled to perfection, the steam carrying the delicious smell to your nose in soft waves. Your second plate looks to be an arrangement of fruits and vegetables, a salad of sorts. You fork through the dish, seeing pineapples, mangoes, apples and even star fruits. The dish is topped with a sticky, sweet and spicy sauce, sugar, chillies and peanuts. It smells amazing.

Nanami’s plate consists of flat rice noodles stir-fried with shrimp, chinese sausage, eggs and bean sprouts in a mix of soy sauce. His plate also smells incredible and you reach over and grab a fork full and take a bite. It’s delicious, so flavorful you think you might cry.

Nanami rolls his eyes. “Now what’s the point of you ordering your own food if you’re just going to eat mine?”

“Hey! I said I was open to trying new things!” You pout, sliding your plates over to him as well. “I was going to share with you, too.”

“I’m teasing, love. I don’t mind.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. “I want you to try everything. And I want to try everything with you.”

You smile as Nanami kisses you again before he tries a bite of his meal. He practically moans when the flavors burst in his mouth.

“It’s good, right?” You ask, taking a fork full of your salad and holding it up to his mouth. Nanami nods.

“These flavors are incredible. I don’t know what it is…maybe the shallots? They make all the flavors pop. Not to mention that bit of heat from the red chilies. I’ll absolutely be making this for dinner when we get back home.”

You giggle as he takes a bite of your salad. “You’re such a food nerd. I swear you should’ve been a chef after we graduated.”

Nanami shakes his head, again relishing in the flavors of your salad. “I only enjoy cooking for you.”

He resumes eating his food, but you’re staring at him, eyes wide as a result of his honesty. You had never realized it before, but Nanami truly never cooked for anyone but you. When having friends over, you typically ordered takeout. He really reserved the love he poured into making food for you only. The thought makes your heart pound hard against your ribcage.

“Love, you okay?” Nanami asks, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek so he can turn your head to look at him. Those brown eyes are filled with concern for you. And so much love. He loves you so much, it practically radiates off of him.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’m just thinking about how happy I am to be here with you.”

And Nanami gives you that shy smile you’re so familiar with, something else he saves just for you, before he kisses you softly.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers. Even with the hustle and bustle of the street market, you hear it loud and clear.

“I love you.”

----------

The sun beams through the balcony doors of the hotel room. The room feels much too warm. It makes Nanami peel back the blankets for a hint of relief. It’s only then he realizes it’s not the blankets making him too warm, or the room temperature. He peers down, finding you latched onto his side. You’re sleeping peacefully and Nanami can’t help but drink in your beauty, how lucky he is to witness how stunning you are. Nanami always thinks you’re a sight to behold, but you’re ethereal beneath the glow of the Malaysian sun. 

He brings a hand up, gently caressing your cheek. He knows he should begin his day; maybe go for a run in the hotel’s gym, have his coffee and wake you, but part of him wants to just lie with you a little longer. He opts to stay in bed.

On the bedside table, Nanami’s phone buzzes with a text message. He carefully reaches for it, reading the message over and sighing.

Unknown: what are u doing now?

Nanami: Getting ready for the day.

Nanami: I told you not to text me while I’m here. She’ll get suspicious.

Unknown: K so u haven’t told her yet

Nanami rolls his eyes, sends one last message.

Nanami: Don’t text me again.

He puts his phone back on the bedside table after setting it to Do Not Disturb. You begin to stir against him.

“Who’s texting you so early in the morning?” You grumble against his side.

“No one important,” he tells you. He places a kiss to the top of your head. “We should start getting ready, love. We have a lot to do today.”

You groan, whining about how tired you still are as you turn away from him to hide your face in your pillow. Nanami chuckles lightly.

“Okay. You get a little more rest. I’ll get ready and come back for you in a bit?”

You mumble in agreement, your light snores coming shortly after your answer.

Nanami climbs out of the bed, heading to the closet in the suite. He fishes around for his workout clothes and shoes before quickly changing. He’ll let you get more sleep. You’re probably jetlagged anyway. He has a fun day planned for you and he wants you to be well rested.

Before heading out to run, Nanami makes a call downstairs to room service. He orders breakfast to be delivered for you both in the next hour, which gives him time to complete his workout and make it back to shower. 

----------

When Nanami returns, you’re already up. He stands in the living room area just in time to catch you getting out of the shower and entering the bedroom.

“Hey,” you greet him, coming into the main room. You’ve got that gorgeous smile he loves so much spread wide across your face.

“Hey,” he says back, and he fears the tips of his ears are glowing red. You look so good right now, all fresh faced and wrapped in a towel. Again, you’re always stunning but wow. Is it Malaysia that’s making you look like an absolute vision? Nanami can’t pull his gaze from you.

“Kento? You okay?” You ask, adjusting the towel wrapped around you as you step forward. “You’re staring.”

His eyes zero in on your smooth skin, the water droplets cascading down your shoulders and between the valley of your breasts. The way your beautiful lips part as you await his response. How that towel you have wrapped around yourself is barely hanging on and it would take little effort from Nanami to remove it, letting him see every bit of you in all your glory. He can’t bear to be away from you a second longer.

Nanami is aware that he should shower. That he should wash away all the sweat and grime from his workout, but he can’t take his eyes off of you or the way that thin towel hugs all of your dips and curves. The way the scent of your body wash assaults his senses. And before he knows it, he’s crossing the distance of the suite until he’s got your face between his hands and his mouth is crashing into yours.

The kiss is dizzying, all tongue and teeth. A mix of mint, your lipgloss and his sweat. The taste makes Nanami moan into your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, not caring about pressing your body to his sweaty form.

Nanami’s hand glides down your cheek, down your neck and your chest until his fingers find the top of your towel. He hooks a finger under and pulls, the towel loosening and falling quickly to the floor. And then one of his hands is cupping your breast, pulling moan after moan from you as his callous hand runs over your hardening nipple.

With a quiet whimper, you break the kiss to lean back and look at Nanami, eyes blown with lust. “Kento,” you pant. “Not that I don’t love this aggressive side of you, but are you okay?”

Nanami leans down, pressing kisses to your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give him more access. “I’m amazing, love. I just can’t believe we’re here.” He licks along your collarbone, his large hands running down your back until they find your ass. He squeezes, pulling your hips against him and you moan when you feel the evidence of his arousal.

His lips are back on yours soon as he moves you both backwards until your back is pressed against the dining table in the center of the room. He cups your ass and lifts you onto the surface and he’s thankful that he moved the flowers last night and that room service hasn’t been delivered yet.

He pulls away from you, peering down at you through half-lidded eyes. Your lips are kiss swollen and Nanami brings a hand up so he can run his thumb across them.

“I love you. You know that?” He tells you softly.

You nod. “I know, Ken.”

He runs a hand down the valley of your breasts, pushing softly for you to lay back across the table telling you: “You’re so beautiful.” And then he’s kneeling down, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs before him. This is one of his favorite sights. You spread out in front of him.

When you first began dating again, it really felt like the first time. You were shy, almost embarrassed when exposed to Nanami and he was patient with you because he couldn’t blame you. You had stopped being intimate long before your divorce, so it really felt as if you had to get to know each other’s bodies again. It took a few instances of intimacy for you to open up to him again. But once you did, you often found you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Nanami takes in the sight of you in front of him, legs spread wide. His gaze takes in the puffy lips of your pussy coated with your arousal. He licks his lips groaning because he can still taste you on his tongue. But he wants more of you.

“Open your legs for me, love,” he commands, voice husky. He can feel his cock straining against his shorts. He’ll take care of that later, though. Right now, he only wants to take care of you.

You do as you're told, spreading your legs to further expose your aching cunt to Nanami and he can’t wait to run his tongue through your folds.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hands coming up to caress the inside of your thighs. Nanami plants sweet kisses along the plush of your thighs before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your pussy lips. You gasp quietly, back arching off of the dining table and Nanami takes that moment to slip his tongue between your folds.

The groan he lets out comes from deep within his chest. It vibrates through your core and the sensation makes you reach down, weaving your fingers through Nanami’s golden tresses to grab hold.

“O-oh, fuck. Kento,” you breathe. Nanami presses his tongue to your clit, grinning when he feels the slick pour from your core and into his mouth. 

“You taste so good, my love.” He groans against you. You moan in reply, hips coming up to grind your cunt against his mouth, pleading for more. And Nanami gives it to you, lips sealing around your clit and sucking, licking, nipping at your swollen bud until you’re practically fucking yourself on his tongue.

“Kento, oh my god, Kento,” you keen, back lifting off the table again.

“Let me hear you, love,” his hands squeeze your thighs. “I want to know I make you feel good.”

You moan loudly, fingers gripping Nanami’s hair and pulling him further into your pussy. “You do, baby. You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Ken, so fucking good.”

Nanami brings his hands up to your cunt, presses his thumbs to your lips and spreads your pussy open for him. He leans back, just enough that he can get a good look for himself. The sight damn near brings him to climax, your pussy throbbing before him, your little hole clenching around nothing.

He wants to fuck you. He wants to fuck you so bad, but he’ll wait until later for that.

Instead, he leans forward again and slides his hot tongue straight into your aching hole. He has to stop his eyes from rolling back when you cry out and he feels your soft walls clamp down on his tongue immediately. You’re whining, pushing your hips up to meet his mouth, grinding your soaking cunt against Nanami’s face.

And he loves it.

Nanami loves the taste of you, it’s intoxicating. 

Nanami loves the feel of you, soft and pliant beneath his strong hands.

Nanami loves the sounds you make, quite literally music to his ears.

Nanami loves you.

And he hopes you can feel how much he loves you by how he curls his tongue inside your walls. By how he brings a hand up and presses his thumb against your swollen clit where he rubs tight circles. By how he groans into your pussy when he feels a gush of your slick rush into his mouth. By how he’s so painfully hard, he’s now rubbing himself through the front of his shorts to find some sort of friction. 

You really must feel it, because you tug on his hair until he pulls his mouth away from your center. 

“Come here, Ken,” you whisper. “Fuck me.”

Nanami’s brows knit together, a small frown gracing his features. “I’m sweaty, love. I just worked out.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care about that. I need to feel you. Please.”

So Nanami stands, hand still stroking himself over the fabric of his shorts as he eyes you, all spread open on the table. So enticing, so sexy. You know he can’t resist you. All you have to do is say the word and he’s at your beck and call. 

Nanami reaches into his shorts and pulls his cock out before he moves to stand between your legs. A string of precum drips from the tip onto your cunt and Nanami inhales sharply at the sight. You’re driving him insane. He didn’t plan on fucking you right after the gym. If anything, he would’ve finished himself off in the shower. Now he hovers over you, so damn aroused, he’s certain he won’t last long. He slides the tip of his length up and down your folds, collecting your slick and then he leans over you as he positions himself against your entrance.

He gazes into your eyes, absolutely drinks in the fucked out look on your face.

“I’m so in love with you,” he says softly, honestly. Then he kisses you so sweetly, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as Nanami pushes into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and shivering as he enters you, parting your walls for him.

He doesn’t stop moving forward until he feels his balls meet your ass. His tongue presses against yours, both of you whimpering and groaning into each other’s mouths as Nanami finally sits fully inside you.

“Shit,” Nanami curses under his breath. “You feel so good. Every time. I’ll never get tired of having you like this.” He pulls his hips back slowly before he rocks back into you. And maybe it’s the buildup for you, but that first thrust has your pussy gushing against him, soaking straight through his shorts.

“Fuck,” Nanami grits his teeth, the sudden extra slickness making his hips stutter slightly.

“Ah- fuck, Ken,” you whine, holding Nanami close to you as he rolls his hips into yours, filling you over and over. 

The room is filled with Nanami’s soft grunts, your sighs and moans, the sounds of your skin slapping together as Nanami fucks into you, the occasional screech of the table legs sliding across the floor echoing through the room. 

It’s intimate, your arms wrapped around Nanami, one of his hands holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek. Nanami’s eyes are closed, mouth slack against your own as he pumps into you. You’re so wet, so tight, so soft and as much as he wants to keep fucking you like this, he can feel his balls get a little tighter with each thrust.

He reaches a hand between you both, finding your clit easily and rubbing circles on it. A small smirk spreads across his face when you arch your back with a loud moan, your breasts pressing against his chest. Nanami sits up slightly, head dipping so he can place sweet kisses along your chest and down your breasts. 

Your hips come up to meet Nanami’s, the loud smack of your skin meeting pulling a deep groan from within him. He dips his head back down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, gently grazing his tongue over it while he uses his free hand to grab your other breast, his thumb flicking your neglected nipple.

You’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips against Nanami’s, panting and Nanami can feel the telltale flutter of your walls. You’re –

“‘m about to cum, Kento,” you cry out. Nanami releases your nipples, crashes his mouth into yours as he keeps his steady pace, thumb rubbing your clit until he feels your pussy tighten around him. It sends him over the edge with you.

“Yes, love. Cum for me,” he groans, his hips stuttering with his own release. And he’s so sensitive, but he fucks you through your orgasm anyway, thrusting his cum deeper and deeper into you until he can’t anymore.

You’re catching your breath as Nanami stands to look you over. You’re glowing with a sheen of sweat covering you. You’ll both need to shower after this. Nanami grips the base of his cock, pulls out of you with a quiet hiss. And just in time because the moment he’s pulled out there’s a knock on the hotel door.

“Room service!”

You scramble off of the table, scurrying around the room to find your towel on the floor, throwing it around your naked form. “Just a minute!”

Nanami chuckles, making his way to the suite door. He cracks it open, coming face to face with the attendant. “You can leave it outside the door and we’ll grab it in a moment.”

The attendant nods, setting the tray down on a small folding stand in front of the door. “Thank you,” Nanami says before he closes the door again. He turns to find you peeking out of the bedroom and it makes him laugh that deep laugh he only lets you hear.

Nanami crosses the threshold to you, takes your face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to your lips. He gazes into those beautiful eyes of yours. He could drown in them when you look at him like you love him more than anything on earth. And he hopes you do because he loves you that much, if not more.

He kisses you again, pulling back just enough to whisper against your lips, “meet me in the shower.”

----------

You never imagined Malaysia to be so beautiful. You’re grateful to Nanami for being such a planner because you don’t think you’d have been able to find these incredible places. You’re only here a few days, and Nanami makes sure you make the most of it.

On Day 1:

After finishing breakfast (and your other extracurriculars in the shower, on the bed, against the wall and back on the table), you finally leave the hotel and venture out. It’s a beautifully sunny day. Perfect for your first real outing in Malaysia. 

Nanami takes you to the Wilayah Mosque. And while you usually wouldn’t be interested in something like this, Nanami keeps your attention, doling out interesting facts that keep you engaged.

The mosque guides take you along and stop by the most stunning spots so you can photograph the geometric patterns. The pictures truly don’t do it justice. It’s breathtaking.

“What did you think?” Nanami asks as he buckles his seatbelt. He puts the car in reverse, his hand coming up behind your headrest as he cranes his neck to look behind him. He’s so hot without even trying.

“It was gorgeous. Not something I would’ve picked myself, but I’m glad you did. I liked it.”

Nanami smiles as he turns back around to begin driving. “I’m glad.”

Later that evening, Nanami takes you to Bukit Bintang Shopping District. It reminds you a bit of Shibuya. It’s very busy. You’re a bit surprised that Nanami wants to go somewhere so similar to home. Nanami spoils you here. He offers to buy you whatever you look at for more than a few seconds, stating “get it, love. When is the next time we’ll be in Malaysia?”  

So you give in. You let him treat you to whatever you desire (within reason of course). 

On Day 2:

Nanami takes you to the hotel’s rooftop pool to enjoy breakfast before you head out for the day.

“What’s on the agenda today?” You ask, sipping your drink. The sun is just rising, painting the sky with hues of pinks, yellows, and oranges. The view is stunning, the city still buzzing even after a long night. Though it’s only been a day, you love it here.

Nanami seems to love it, too. He’s so much more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. After all of the years you’ve known each other, you’d never seen this side. He’s been so sweet and considerate, taking into account what you’d enjoy and going above and beyond to make sure it happens. He’s been so doting and loving, almost always touching you as though you’re his lifeline. Even now, he’s got his ankles locked with yours under the table and his fingers intertwined with yours on top of it.

It’s something small you didn’t know you’d wanted when you were together before. Now you love this almost…clingy version of Nanami. It made your heart flutter.

Nanami hums, gulping down the last bit of his coffee, his thumb lazily running back and forth across your knuckles.

“I booked a massage for you this morning before we head out.”

“A massage? Just for me?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “You deserve some time to yourself, too. A nice, relaxing hour just for you seemed like a good idea.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been sitting on a plane for several hours just a couple days ago. You’d also been spending a lot of time walking around. Not to mention adjusting to the time change was exhausting and only added to your body feeling a little stiff lately.

“Okay!” You agree happily. “What will you do while I’m gone? I’m sure you’ll be bored out of your mind, missing me and crying with snot and boogers running down your nose, huh?”

“Mm,” Nanami smirks. “You caught me. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to hold back my tears.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling quietly and you laugh because he’s just so cute. Your serious man bantering with you. Ugh, you love him way too much.

“What time is the massage, babe?”

“You’ve got a couple hours. We can just relax in the room until then if you’d like.”

You nod. “Sounds perfect. You can give me a massage before my massage.”

Nanami’s thumb caresses your knuckles. “On the table again? Or maybe the couch this time.” He suggests, his voice dripping with seduction. You feel your cheeks warm.

“Kento!”

----------

You feel beyond refreshed after your massage. There’s an extra bounce in your step as you make your way back to your room. You’re not sure if it’s from the massage from the hotel masseuse or the massage Nanami gave you before you left for your appointment. Maybe both. You’re excited to see Nanami, tell him about how he needed to sign up for a massage next. It was life changing.

But when you enter the room, Nanami is nowhere in sight. It’s quiet. You think for a moment that he’s left, but he would have told you so. He was so much better about communicating than ever. So you wander the room, starting first in the living room area of the suite. You glance through to the balcony. He’s not there. You wander into the bedroom and find it empty as well. He’s not on the bedroom balcony either.

You’re about to text him to ask where he’s wandered off to when you hear his hushed voice in the bathroom connected to the bedroom. You think maybe he’s talking to himself, or maybe taking a work call, but it’s what you do catch that makes you creep a little closer to the door.

“I already told you I will. She’s having a good time. I don’t want to potentially ruin this trip for her.”

You can’t make out what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but it makes Nanami chuckle quietly. Your stomach tightens.

“We’re heading to Kuantan for the day tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I’ll be returning as a single man and if I am, I’ll be blaming you…Okay…Yes…I know...You’ll hear from me once it’s done…Bye.”

Your stomach is in knots, and you feel yourself begin trembling when you hear Nanami shifting around in the bathroom. His footsteps are getting closer and you know you need to pull it the fuck together. You don’t want to jump to conclusions about who was on the phone. Another woman? Nanami never seemed like the type to cheat. But then again, he never seemed like the type to be a neglectful husband, but he was at one point. Had he also gotten into the habit of being unfaithful?

You hoped not.

The doorknob turns and Nanami stands before you. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hi, my love. How was your massage?” He asks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Good,” is all you can muster. “Who was that on the phone?”

You don’t miss the way Nanami stiffens briefly. “Oh, just a work call.”

And you know him. You know Nanami Kento better than he knows himself, you think. Because you can tell he just lied to your face. You don’t know who he was actually talking to or why he felt the need to lie about it. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt because deep down, you do trust him. He’s never given you a reason to doubt his faithfulness to you. If he was withholding the truth, there had to be a good reason for it. So you let it go…for now.

“You okay?” Nanami asks when you don’t respond.

You smile, nodding. “Yes, I’m okay. The massage was great.”

You fill Nanami in on how your appointment was, even recommending he get a massage as well.

“Maybe tomorrow morning before we head out to Kuantan for the day. Get changed. I want to take you to the Batu Caves. It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

You tuck away this strange feeling blooming in your chest and nod, smiling up at the man you hope with all your heart you can trust. “Okay, Ken. Let’s go.”

On Day 3:

You and Nanami have been driving for the last three hours and to say you’re exhausted is an understatement. You’ve been letting Nanami’s little white lie eat away at you and it’s been putting a damper on the trip. You’re trying your best not to let on that something is bothering you, but as you approach your destination, you’re not sure if you can keep your feelings to yourself.

You’d tried not to think too much about it, not to assume the worst of the man you love, but a part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe this trip with Nanami truly would be your last.

“Love, can you check the navigation for me please?” Nanami asks next to you. “I want to make sure we’re still on the right path.”

“Sure.”

You grab his phone from its position clipped to the dashboard and look at the map. It’s then that a text notification rolls down Nanami’s screen.

Unknown: tell her today

Unknown: if you don’t tell her before you come back i will!

Now, usually you wouldn’t pry. That’s a boundary you crossed when you suspected Nanami of cheating on you before you asked for a divorce. The suspicions didn’t seem valid at the time and yet you still looked through Nanami’s things to find something that confirmed he was being unfaithful.

Now, it seemed the evidence was right before you. You tap the notification, eyes widening when you see a text thread leading back to the day you left Tokyo to fly to Kuala Lumpur. It’s a bunch of “have you told her”’s and “i can’t wait for you to tell her” and even a “make sure to film her reaction. she’s gonna lose it and i’m gonna laugh so hard”. 

You feel sick. You feel like you want to cry. You feel like you want to scream.

He’s cheating on you. Nanami is cheating on you.

You check out, completely focusing on staring ahead of you as Nanami continues to drive.

Shortly after seeing those texts, Nanami pulls up and parks at Sungai Pandan Waterfall. He opens your door for you and stretches a hand out for you to take. You’re staring up into his pretty brown eyes, wondering how he could do this to you and still bring you here. It seems Malaysia is destined to be nothing but a reminder of pain for you.

You take Nanami’s hands regardless, your ears immediately flooded with the sounds of rushing water. The falls are enormous, multi-tiered and picturesque. It’s not especially crowded, a few families scattered around the falls, either climbing up the rocks or jumping into the large pool at the bottom. Maybe if things were going differently, you’d be able to appreciate the beauty.

Nanami leads you up a path that would take you up the sides of the waterfall, but your mind is racing a million miles a minute, still thinking back to the way Nanami hid his phone from you on the plane ride here. Nanami telling you it was no one important when he got that early morning text on your first day. Nanami’s hushed conversation in the bathroom and now that long chain of text messages.

It’s all eating away at you and you can no longer stand by and pretend to have a good day when Nanami is betraying you right to your face. You yank your hand back, the tears already threatening to spill.

Nanami looks down at you, clearly confused. “Are you okay, love?”

“Kento.” Your voice is shaky, but serious. You want to let him know you mean business right now and when you ask for an answer, he better damn well give it to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Ken. I would think you’d be honest about your feelings with me.”

Nanami is still looking at you, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. I know what you’ve been up to. The secret texts, the secret phone calls and the lies.” The tears are spilling now and you’re trying to keep your composure, trying not to make a scene when Nanami reaches for your hand and you pull back again. Nanami’s eyes widen as he begins to put two and two together. 

“I can explain,” he begins hurriedly.

“Explain what? That you came on this trip just to tell me your deep dark secret? That’s what your little friend said.” 

“My little friend?”

“The one you’ve been secretly texting throughout the whole trip! The one you were probably on the phone with while you were hiding in the bathroom yesterday!”

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off with a warning. “I saw all of the texts on the way here, too. So don’t you dare tell me that was a work call or I swear, Kento–”

“Okay. Okay. It’s really not what you think,” he sighs as he fishes his phone from his pocket.

“You could’ve at least saved your mistress' number,” you mutter, unsure if Nanami heard you over the sound of the waterfalls.

Nanami holds his phone up, showing you the text thread you saw in the car earlier. “Are these what you saw?”

When you nod, he hands you his phone, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You give him a questioning look.

“Go ahead and call it.”

You want to scream at him that you’re really not interested in talking to whoever he’s cheating on you with, but the pleading look in his eyes pushes you to dial the number. You turn to face away from Nanami as it rings. It feels as though the dial tone rings for an eternity before you hear shuffling and then:

“NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN! Did you do it? Did you tell her?”

Your eyes widen in shock…and embarrassment. “...Satoru?”

On the other end of the line, Satoru is quiet. After a moment, he says “Heeeeyyyy, babe.”

“Satoru, you’ve been texting Kento this whole time?”

“Yep!”

You’re relieved to know you were in fact crazy for thinking Nanami would ever choose to hurt you by cheating. You should have known better, should have trusted that he wouldn’t do that to you. You feel ashamed. But, you also have questions.

“Why doesn’t Kento have your number saved?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Satoru gasps loudly on the other end. “He doesn’t?! Ugh, that asshole. After all the help I gave him.”

“Help? With what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

You’re beginning to get annoyed.

“Tell me what?”

Nanami calls your name from behind you.

“Hang up,” He says. You’re so frustrated. You want answers and Satoru seems to be the one willing to give them right now. Regardless, you turn around…only to find Nanami down on one knee gazing up at you.

Your mouth drops open and you tighten your grip on Nanami’s phone so don’t drop it from the sheer shock you’re experiencing.

“Babe, are you the–” you hit the ‘end call’ button on Satoru, still staring down at Nanami before you.

“Ken…what–”

“I would never cheat on you,” Nanami swears. “You know that. I’ve told you this before. And I’m sorry for all of the secrets, for lying to you. But trust me. I have good intentions here.” He reaches forward to take both your hands in his. “I have been so scared to tell you this because I was afraid you’d run. Or that it would completely change everything for us in the worst way. It’s been Satoru pushing me, encouraging me. If it weren’t for him, I would never take this next step and tell you that…”

Nanami is so red, so flustered. You’d only ever seen him like this when you first reconnected. It takes you back to the elevator after your big argument in the restaurant. He’s being open and vulnerable with you. You give him your full attention.

“Tell me what?” You push softly. Because even Nanami – strong as he is – needs a nudge.

He takes a deep breath, letting go of one of your hands to reach into his pocket where he pulls out a small blue velvet box. You watch with wide eyes as he flips the box open, revealing a beautiful ring. It’s different from the last one Nanami gave you, this one with your birthstone sitting in the center. It’s gorgeous.

“Tell you that I have been the luckiest man on this planet to have been given a second chance with you. I am the luckiest man to be able to wake up next to you everyday, to hold you every night. To kiss you whenever I feel like it. There was a point in time when I didn’t appreciate that or you and I came to regret that. But now that you’ve given me a second chance to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me, I know I’ll never make that mistake again.

You fill my heart beyond measure. Not a moment goes by when my mind is not preoccupied with the thought of you. I take you to the train every morning and meet you at work every afternoon because any minute longer than the 8 hours a day I’m forced to be away from you is too painful to bear. I want to show you the same love you’ve always given me from now until forever, if you’ll let me.”

The tears trail down your cheeks, lip quivering as Nanami pours his soul out to you.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you always. So,” he releases your other hand to pull the ring out of the box, whispering your name as he asks, “Will you marry me…” he chuckles softly as he adds, “again?”

Your mind is reeling. You went from suspecting Nanami of cheating on you five minutes ago to Nanami now proposing to you for what would be the second time in your lives. You peer down at this man you’ve known most of your life, who you’ve experienced so much with – love, pain, loss – and you ask yourself if you could do it all again with him.

There will be fights and disagreements, tears shed and slammed doors. But there will also be laughs and kisses and shared moments making memories together. You’ve seen the changes Nanami has made, you’ve experienced them firsthand. You know this time around could be different if you let it be.

You soak in your surroundings – the rushing waters of the falls, the tropical smell in the air, the sounds of families screaming and laughing. This is what you and Nanami had worked toward. 

The simple idea of Malaysia once tore your relationship to pieces, ruined your marriage and had you moving forward without Nanami Kento in your life. You couldn’t stand to look at Nanami without thinking of Malaysia and the pain it caused you. You once hated this place with every fiber of your being.

Now standing here, in the place that once brought so much turmoil into your life, you stare down at the love of your life and you see hope. You see a real future of true happiness. So you kneel down with Nanami, face to face, eyes locked onto each other and whisper a quiet:

“Yes.”

----------

You and Nanami spend the remaining days in newly engaged couple bliss. You hardly leave your hotel room when you get back to Kuala Lumpur, spending most of the trip tangled in the sheets together. 

As you sit on the plane, awaiting your flight back to Tokyo, you hold your hand out in front of you, admiring your engagement ring. Nanami has a hand resting on the back of your neck where he rubs small circles. He laughs quietly when he sees you wiggle your fingers, the gems sparkling on your hand.

“This ring is so beautiful,” you breathe.

“I’m glad you like it. Satoru had a friend who helped design it.”

“Speaking of Satoru, why don’t you have his number saved in your phone. Would’ve saved me the headache.”

Nanami shrugs. “I did have it saved at first. But he annoyed me once and I deleted it and I don’t care to save it again. Because it’ll only be a matter of time before I delete his information again.”

You nod in understanding, your mind suddenly thinking about how quickly you jumped to conclusions when you thought Nanami was cheating and an idea hits you.

“Maybe we should do couple’s therapy before getting married again,” you suggest.

Nanami hums beside you. “I’m willing. I have no intention of letting this marriage fail for a second time.”

The ding of the airplane cabin goes off, signifying you’ll be taking off soon.

Nanami takes your hand in his, squeezing gently before he leans and runs his nose along the bridge of yours. Then he kisses you sweetly.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers. Even as the plane signals ring and the captain speaks loudly over the speaker, you hear him loud and clear.

“I love you.”

Taglist: @eiflawriting @a-tiny-sandwich @tylersaiddonteatbananas @unhappysap @tmvll9 @reihimbo @lxlilith @blahh222 @animupiglett @lemonadebreeze @p00pdev1l @svm666 @tymlispieces @rzrsblog @4lch3mist @shiinleaf @heavenskudos @kariatenoh @syynnaaah @scarlet-kazuha @shyster001 @sleepydang @marymun @lxttlesxnshine @sexbob-ombbeck @lysa1201 @xq2re @si00p @trashbagz @loveupeople @thereallotus-39 @moonstone-galaxy @levisfootrest @erenputurchildreninsideme @cherry-cola1 @rengokusbonnet @nanagoswife @kuroaka @scovvii @heroof2morrow @immeltinnnng @imm-eri @iluvnanamin @cccldrn-san @bxe-y @trxshpandax @calientees @lyralibra @little-dende @naughteehee

[destieltaggedfic]

Hello 👋🏽 do you have any fics where Dean gets flustered around Cas a lot? Or is shy or blushes a lot. Anything along those lines, please! Thanks bestie!

hell yes! Adorable Dean!

Après – imogenbynight   Ao3

Set S9 AU.  The angels have fallen like Anna, with grace sprouting everywhere and all are going to be born as humans in 9 months.  Cas however has been dumped on Earth in France and Dean braves an international flight to get his friend, but before they come home they spend a few days in the City of Love.

Word Count: 24k                              Graphic Sexual Acts

One Day With You Forever or: 5 times in One day Dean Says “I Love You” Without Saying the Words (Until He Says the Words) – flippyspoon   Ao3

Set 15x20 didn’t happen AU.  Sam encourages Dean to start doing the things that he’d always mentioned that he wanted to introduce Cas to.  When asked, Cas wants to start with jigsaw puzzles, so a trip to the store is in order.

Word Count: 8k                                 Graphic Sexual Acts

Flirt It Up, Lover Boy – deancaskiss   Ao3

Nonspecific timeframe.  A magazine quiz makes Cas realise that Dean may have been flirting, so he figures that the article about flirting back will help him.

Word Count: 2k                 No Sex

Starstruck - peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)   Ao3

AU.  Actor Dean Winchester gets asked in an interview about his first love and he talks about falling in love with the boy who lived next door when he was a teenager.  Divorcee Cas is watching the interview with his kids, shocked to recognise himself in the description.  He reaches out to Dean and they rekindle their friendship.

Word Count: 204k                            Graphic Sexual Acts

Goodnight Kisses – ImYourHoneyBee   Ao3

Set 15x20 didn’t happen AU.  Dean was quick to tell Cas he loved him and wanted to be with him too when they got him back, although he wasn’t comfortable being with a guy, Cas’ compromise was that he wanted a goodnight kiss every night.  It doesn’t take Dean too long to realise that he’s a lot more fine with Cas being dude-shaped than he thought.

Word Count: 9k                                 Graphic Sexual Acts