#man I think I had the right idea when I was 14 and planning to kill myself after graduation it’d be so much easier

[novella-november]

Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.

I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.

Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D

Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!

It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!

As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!

Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),

but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--

you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!

[pissfizz]

It’s college application season and I have no idea what to do or what’s going on where I want to go or anything ready and 👍 my life feels like it’s already over because of how unprepared I am for this

[elllisaaa]

MR. POLICEMAN - C. SEUNGCHEOL

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - AGE DIFFERENCE

SUMMARY : "everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer" is what you said to him when you got arrested for selling drugs. and despite seungcheol having a wife and kids, he can't help stumbling over his words when you ask to suck his cock in exchange for letting you go.

-> pairing : police officer!seungcheol x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.4k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : age difference (obviously), cheating, mention of drugs, oral (m. receiving), begging, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, swearing, praising, hair pulling, dacraphylia, use of 'good girl'

+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- I didn’t even do anything !

- The marijuana we found in your apartment seems to tell otherwise. If you want advice, you should really confess. The judge is gonna be a lot more lenient if you do as I say.”

A pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning your gaze away from the officer in front of you. If you found the little bastard that had reported you, he was not going to make it out alive, for sure. In your mind, you did nothing wrong. Drugs helped you relax and focus on your writing in a way that your normal state didn’t allow, what was the harm in that ? 

“- It’s not mine, I don’t know why it was there. Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer.

- I hear these lies at least four times a day, Miss L/N. You should really tell me the truth if you want to avoid a serious sentence.”

But his words were going through one ear and out of the other, your eyes fixed on his face and his attractive features. You must admit that the man was handsome, and that his uniform was suiting him perfectly. He was obviously way older than you, and a framed photograph of his wife and two kids was sitting on his desk. But that wouldn’t deter you from the idea that had formed into your mind. You locked your doe eyes with his again, your crossed arms pushing your boobs together and making them almost spill out of your top. You tried to contain your smirk as the eyes of the officer flickered down to your chest - everything was going according to your plan.

“- Okay… I did have some weed, but it’s only for me and my friends, to relax, you know ? We did nothing wrong…”

You saw him gulp down as you leaned over his desk, hands pressed on the cold wood and your boobs now directly in his line of sight. It was impossible for him to ignore them as they were right in front of his face. But he looked away to his computer, trying to appear busy. Your own eyes roamed around the things scattered on his desk, catching his first name on one of the papers. 

“- Please, Officer Choi… I really don’t want to go to jail, can’t you help a girl who made a mistake ?”

Seungcheol should say no, he should frankly say that he could do nothing about it, that you must understand why you shouldn’t do it again. But the way your fingers were slowly crawling up his arm made his brain malfunction. 

“- I… I can’t do that. It’s illegal.”

It was as if he needed to mention the law because it was the only thing holding him back from giving in to your advances and letting you go. He felt guilty, the ring around his finger seemed like it was burning when he looked at your lips for a little too long. 

“- But, please, I swear I won’t do it again !

- That’s still illegal, there are laws for a reason.”

You pretended to think for a moment as your hand rested on his shoulder, like a reminder of how naughty all the things going through his head at that moment were. 

“- I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go, I can… Repay you in other ways…”

Seungcheol was so unprepared for your bold proposal that he barely even reacted when you dropped to your knees and crawled under his desk until you could settle in between his legs, looking up at him with your hands placed high on his thick thighs. 

“- Let me do something for you, yeah ? And I promise you’ll never hear from me ever again.

- You… Get up, I can't… I can’t let you do that.

- Please, you won’t regret it, I swear.”

Your sugary sweet voice, your big doe eyes and the way your palm was already rubbing against the bulge deforming his crotch were slowly making his resolve crumble. The uniform was only making him hotter, your eyes roaming around the way the muscles of his biceps tensed as he gripped the armrest of his desk chair, his jaw clenching as his gaze got darker. 

“- Please, Officer Choi… I’ll be good, I promise.”

All Seungcheol needed was one more of your begs in that whiny voice for him to give you the green light. A grin stretched out your lips as you pushed his uniform pants down enough to free his cock. You licked your lips at the appealing sight, his length heavy in your hands as you spat on him and started to stroke him at a quick pace, your eyes never leaving his. His lips were parted, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, and his gaze was filled with lust as you stuck out your tongue to kitten-lick at his tip.

“- Fuck… Take it into your mouth.”

You smiled at him, your ego inflating because you did manage to make him completely give up on his morals. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing half of his hard cock in between your lips, slowly working on relaxing your throat enough to take him whole into your mouth. With every inch that met your eager tongue and your warmth, Seungchol's breath became more and more unheavy, the sight of you on your knees for him, doing your best to convince him when he still had the power to send you to prison was delicious. 

“- Shit… You feel so good…”

His praise made you moan around his cock just as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag and drool even more. You knew that you could get him to let you go if you did good enough, you knew that by the time you would have made him cum, he was going to be unable to keep you there anymore. So you doubled your efforts, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up at the way his face contorted in pleasure, at the way his parted lips were letting out the prettiest groans. His hips bucked up into your mouth, making you whimper and gag again around him, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“- I’m gonna need more than that to let you go, angel. But if you let me fuck your tight, little throat, I might say yes.”

You hummed in approval, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in between your strands of hair. He hesitated for one second - one second that let you enough time to swirl your tongue around his cock in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He put your hair up in a messy ponytail, tugging on it to force his cock to the hilt into your throat. The loud gagging noises you produced as he thrusted forward again and again were drowned out by his loud groans and grunts of your name. He shouldn't love what was happening right now, he shouldn't love the way he was bruising your throat, he shouldn't love the way tears were running down your face and ruining your mascara. He shouldn’t but he loved it, he loved it way more than he thought he would. 

Your nails were digging into his thick, muscular thighs as Seungcheol fucked your throat. You could feel his big cock throbbing against your tongue, could feel that he was close. And maybe you shouldn’t love how humiliating this all was, maybe you shouldn’t love the fact that you were about to make this married man cum into your mouth, maybe you shouldn’t love how rough he was, but you did. You did and it encouraged you to hollow your cheeks around him, giving him that last rush of pleasure he needed to shoot his load down your throat. You did your best to swallow his cum, letting go of his cock to take a deep breath. 

And then, you looked up at Seungcheol to find him already looking at you. His thumb came down to swipe up against your bottom lip, gathering the remains of his release to push them back into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately sucked on his finger, cleaning it off his cum. He patted your cheek, covering it in your saliva.

“- You really are a good girl. You can go.”

Seungcheol made a promise to himself to never ever think about you again, even if your big doe eyes were haunting him day and night. But when he saw you sitting in his office, your hands handcuffed, only a few weeks later, with that same sultry smile and that same lust burning into your eyes, he quickly locked the door behind him, and he stopped thinking as soon as your lips made contact with his cock again.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

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@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @heevllog @foxinnie8 @bewoyewo @jaderabbit-98 @lala-----------lala

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

[sunrizef1]

What Happens in Vegas pt 14

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors Note: No Charles content in this one but important nonetheless

Summary: Logan and Y/N talk, y/n finally reveals who’s been texting her

Masterlist

“Have I ever told you about my family?”

Logan doesn’t reply for a moment, annoyance still resting under his deadpan expression. You’re both sat on the floor of his drivers room, backs resting against the wall behind you, coffee from the Williams hospitality sitting in foam cups getting cold as they sit, untouched. Champagne dries on the top of your skin, casting a sticky residue onto your face and the ends of your hair.

Your win was now forgotten, the trophy having been left in your room to be picked up by a random Porsche employee who’d eventually get it back to you. Logan’s DNF was also now forgotten, although it did leave a lasting effect on his mood, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tightly.

“No, but I know your dad.”

You tilt your head, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth as you respond, “Well, you know him now.”

Logan doesn’t respond, not in the mood to play into your vagueness. He’d invited you here to explain. He knew you’d clarify eventually, whether he asked you to or not.

“It’s a complicated story,” you pause, bile rising to your throat at the notion of explaining your childhood and forcing you to swallow it back down, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Logan hums, obviously not planning on speaking much anyway. Both of you stare off toward the floor in front of you, unspoken words hanging in the air around you.

“I was born in France, not sure if you knew that,” you start after a moment, hesitance laced in your words, “Everyone thinks I was born in Texas but my mom would’ve rather died than let that happen.”

“You probably know my mom, Amelie Laurent, French, vogues favorite person and I guess she’s a pretty famous model,” Logan pauses for a second, no doubt not aware of who your mom was, before he nods in recognition of the name.

“When my parents had me, they were still in love, I think,” you furrow your eyebrows as the words leave your mouth, “Um, but after they had me, I guess they got really busy with their jobs and stuff so they sent me to live with my grandparents in Texas for a while.”

“Didn’t really see them much growing up. My dad took me to the paddock a lot though, I got to hang out with everyone at McLaren, which was nice.”

“But he was busy so I usually got stuck with Kimi and then eventually Lewis, when he joined, which is where the uncle Lew thing comes from. Sometimes I felt like McLaren and Mercedes raised me more than my dad did,” the end of your statement comes out in a whisper, this being the first time you’d voiced the idea.

Logan glances over as your face sours, his hand coming out to hand you your, now cold, coffee. You grasp it from him and take a sip, sliding it back down to the ground after.

“When I was 8 my parents had my brother, which I think was the final straw. They got a divorce right after and my dad moved me to England. My brother stayed in France with our mom,” you wince.

“I started karting, my grandma moved to England to take me around to races when my dad couldn’t. Despite my own… objections, I spent my summers at my moms house with her and my brother.”

You pause, stomach turning as you let out a shaky breath, memories flooding back. Logan shows his first emotion of the night, glancing over to check you're not going to die. When he confirms you're, in fact, breathing, he looks back to the floor.

“I don't think she wanted kids. Maybe she did. At one point. But I think, after the divorce, all I did was remind her of my dad, a man she hated more than anything. She made it obvious with the way she treated me, as well. Well actually, the way she treated both me and my brother.”

“She never wanted me in karting, made it clear. Only reminded her of my dad again, made me do ballet in the summers. Thought it was more proper, or whatever. Didn't let us speak English at her house either, we were only allowed French, took Juli forever to learn English correctly, he'd only grown up with her.”

“Juli?” Logan asks, adding his first bit of input since you'd started talking.

“Brother,” you mumble into your knees as you pull them into your chest, resting your tired face against them. Logan nods.

“Um, she yelled a lot, I guess. A lot of stuff about our futures and how we'd always be failures if we went through with racing and football, she didn't like that Julian only wanted to play football, either.”

“Dad didn’t know, I didn’t tell him,” you mumble, “I didn’t think there was that much wrong with it until I left.”

“She just sucked, man,” you groan, eyes shutting tight as your head falls back against the wall, “I hated her so much! Because I was winning, I was getting these championships and getting these trophies and I thought she’d finally accept that I wanted to kart but the only thing she’d tell me was that I’d never get anywhere!”

You take a deep breath, holding back the faint tears in your eyes.

“But yeah, that's the worst of it, really. Completely cut contact at 15. Begged my grandparents to let me spend summers with them. They let me.”

“It just stuck with me for a while, you know? The shit my mom would say. A lot of crap about how I was failing myself with racing or how I would never have a future if I continued down that path. Said a lot of things about how I'd always find a way to lose and that it would never be worth it if I wasn't the best. Everytime I lost a race, she would find a way to use it against me, proof that I shouldn't be racing.”

“I did block her though, couldn’t stand the constant texts when I lost. Probably wasn’t even very easy to find those results, they weren’t exactly mainstream,” you furrow your eyebrows, confusion passing over your face momentarily, “Anyway, three years later, I’m 18. I move out and sign an f3 contract. My dad got super busy with Lewis’s championships and Mercedes. Kimi was actually the first to congratulate me.”

“I haven't spoken to my mom or my brother in, what? 8 years? I've mostly forgotten them by now, paris a thing of the past,” you trail off, the air of Logan’s room suddenly feeling a lot colder.

“All this to say, um-“ you rush out, shaking your head quickly.

You finally look over toward Logan, moving your body to face his, “She texted me, in Australia. Told me that the crash was all she'd ever expected from me, anyway. She's been calling ever since.”

Logan turns his head, concern written on his face.

“I think I'd forgotten about everything she said since it's been so long. But that text kind of brought it all back. It's been stuck in my mind for every single race. That's the reason I’ve been so unfocused lately. I don’t even know how she got my number, she was blocked on my old number and then I just got a new one, I don’t know how she could’ve got it.”

Logan, having dropped his previous spite, quirks his head, “What about yesterday?”

You swallow thickly, “Julian texted me. She kicked him out. He’s staying with a teammate. He’s sixteen, Lo. He’s still a kid.”

You fall back against the wall with a thump, your hands coming up to cover your eyes, “He’s still in France, still training with PSG. He’s asked to talk to me before Monaco.”

“Monaco?”

You nod solemnly, “My least favorite race, too close to my mom. I was so relieved when they took France off the calendar, you know? I’m pretty sure that, until recently, she didn’t know I was even in F1. She’s sworn off any media that isn’t French and I chose to race under dads last name. Makes me think someone told her I was.”

Logan hums, trying to process all the information you’d just told him. Eventually, he pats you heavily on the back, groaning as he stands up. You look up as he reaches a hand down to you, questions laying in your gaze.

Logan pushes his hand further down toward you, “Seems like a good enough reason to go out, celebrate your win. We can talk heavy solutions in the morning. For now, you are a race winner. A race winner who needs to get her mind off her fucked up family.”

You grin at his words, grasping his outstretched hand and letting him pull you up, “You reacted better than Arthur did. Think he was about to throw up with me.”

Logan pauses, his face screwing up with faux betrayal, “You told Arthur before me?”

You roll your eyes, “I was having a panic attack on the floor of the bathroom, talking about it was the only thing to get me out of it.”

Logan smiles softly at your response, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you two walk out of his room, “Let’s go, winner. Who do you think the most famous person you can get to celebrate with you tonight is?”

You take a moment to think about your response, “I think I saw Kendall Jenner, I’m sure I’ll probably see her at some point.”

Logan hums, looking out ahead of both of you, “You know I’ve seen the pictures of you two in Miami last year? You were so far gone.”

You laugh, hitting him in the ribs, “Shut up. We should leave soon, Porsche has probably already started partying without us.”

Logan laughs, patting your shoulder lightly as you both go to leave the Miami paddock.

———————————————

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation

I can't believe I finally did it. I was so afraid to use my powers I got and now look at me.

A fat kid like me would never walk around like this. Parading around

I still feel guilty though

14 hours ago:

My family spoke about receiving my powers for many years. They all got their chance for a few years when they were young but one day their power run out when they got too old. It took a few years for each person.

But now I was the youngest out of our family and they all were looking forward to use my powers to swap them into younger bodies. I hated this idea, cause they usually picked a family they knew and replaced them. What did my family do with the other swapped family are you asking? You don't wanna know.

And that's why I escaped the night before my family got their hands on me. I couldn't let another family get killed of like so many before. I just have to swap soon enough before my family finds me a tries to use me for themselves. Unfortunately it won't be easy, cause after centuries of swapping, they got themselves into the higher class and got enough money to do whatever they wanted.

I ran through the forest with my backpack and got to the nearest road. It was the middle of the night and there weren't cars nearby. I walked for an hour and arrived to a 24/7 diner. Perfect. I can hitchhike from here.

The only three people in the diner were the chef, waitress and some guy. He looked like a bussiness man coming from some trip. Sipped his coffee, maybe heading somewhere and trying to get some cofein to not fall asleep behind the wheel.

I aproached him:"Hey, I was just wondering if you were taking hitchhikers by any chance?" I asked with a shaky voice.

He looked at me with his exhausted eyes:"Where are you heading? Got a name kid?"

"North," I exclaimed, " and the name is Kenneth. Nice to meet you." I lied, not using my real name.

I saw a spark in his eyes. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Really? North? There isn't anything but wilderness for miles." I didn't respond. And just nodded. He continued:"Well we got a lot to talk about then"

We headed to the car. He was driving a black Toyota. That's all I could say about that car. I knew shit about cars

His car was clean, but he had a lot of bags in the trunk. Probably from the business trip, I thought.

An hour of smalltalk about my life and himself followed. His name was Matthew, and he worked as a marketer on west coast. He quit university a few years ago and went on to get more money. From the talk all I could notice was the way his hands moved, his beautifully manly hands. His biceps was carefully wrapped around by the blue short sleeve of his T-shirt. I could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his beard and continue to his chest. Burry myself there. I wondered if he was hairy there just as his arms were.

As I was dreaming about this beautiful specimen I didn't even notice that he made a few slight turns. As he kept talking and I was admiring him, out of the pitch black forest a diner emerged. The same diner we came back from.

I looked at him horrified

"You didn't think that your parents would let you get away? Sorry for the change of your plans for the vacation, but your family needs you and I was promised a lot of money. So I gotta get you back."

Fuck. No. I can't let this happen. I can't go back. I gotta find a way out of here.

The doors were locked, so there was no way I was getting out of there. Begging didn't seem like a valid option. I noticed the time 2:09. It's my birthday. I wonder. If this doesn't work then I am dead. If I don't do anything my family will use me. I can't let the happen.

I concentrated hard enough. I have never swapped before, but I knew how from my family. They all went through it many times.

I felt warmth coming straight from my head, following to my hands.

We were few miles from my home

Now or never

I jumping at him. My right hand grabbing the wheel and turning it to the right. My left hand grabbing his shoulder.

A moment of darkness. For a short glimpse I saw my own face shocked and screaming. Then we hit the tree.

I got out of the car as soon as possible. My body didn't move. I killed him. I did the same thing, like my family to all the others.

I ran to the backseat, grabbed my backpack a ran striaght to the forest. I could hear sirens in the distance. I have to run now.

Present

I think it has been far enough for now. The forest ened with a beautiful large meadow between two massive mountains. Sun already shined and I could slow down for a minute.

I took off my ripped shirt and jeans. If someone saw them they would think that a bear attacked.

In my view were now two beautifully sculpted hairy pecs and even more beautiful abs. I went through every ridge my fingers found. The skin was tigh and warm. After the run I completely forgot I was now Matthew. Not Jake anymore. But Matthew. Beautiful hot sexy Matthew.

I spoke out. What a manly voice I now possess I though. My hand touching my neck and the other my lips and beard as I spoke. I smelled my armpit. The stentch of sweat was extremely strong but erotic. I went to admire my new hairy legs. I slowly started from my strong thighs, through the thick carpet of hair covering them, following to my new feet. I took off the shoes. My feet are massive now.

The last thing I didn't see yet was already awaiting hard. I got completely naked. There I was. A man! A hot sexy man. Sculpted like a statue with a hard and large dick in hand. I jerked off slowly and with my other hand I kept on exploring the already touched areas. I went on to masturbate rapidly just until the streams of cum kept pouring out off me.

I stood there smiling, laughing.

And then the clarity hit. I took Matthew's life. I did that to stop my family, but that didn't make it easier.

There was no going back now. I took my backpack and the rest of my clothes that weren't destroyed, hoping I would get a chance to get some on the way.

"I am Matthew Daniels and I am on a vacation. I am Matthew."

I went into the beautiful nature to continue my journey. I still feel guilty. Maybe the feeling will pass. I hope...

Part 2:

[disasterofastory]

Yours (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Yours // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 8/14 Warnings: virgin!Brahms

Summary: You want a special night with Brahms.

"Can you do that, Brahms?" You ask him for the second time when, instead of answering your previous question, he pouts at you with a slight, moody wrinkle between his brows. "Can you promise you won't spy on me for a few hours?" The corners of your lips twitch as you listen to your own words. You can't even imagine what other people would think of Brahms or you if they heard you right now. Or any other time. "But why?" His voice is higher with a couple of octaves than before. His hands on your waist tighten while you keep your arms around his lean waist. "Because I want to surprise you," you tell him. "It's just a few hours, Brahms. Please." His chest stretches with a heavy sigh. "Fine." "Great!" You squeak out, reaching up for his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. "You won't regret it." It's funny you say that; Brahms already feels the regret eating at him when you disappear upstairs.

You have been waiting for this day ever since you decided to stay with Brahms. Well, you like to think you had a choice in the matter. You had doubts when he dragged you into the shower with himself the first time, but after the first kiss you shared, you knew it for sure. He has no experience with women and intimacy. You weren't even surprised. The man lived most of his life behind the walls of Heelshire manor. In the beginning, he had barely any idea what to do or how without your guidance. It was fine, though. You love the power you had over him and his pleasure. You built him up patiently and softly. And today, if he is okay with it, you are ready to take the next step. You are surprised he hasn't initiated it yet. Brahms has no patience when it comes to what he wants, and you learned it rather quickly.

So, you take the first step.

You start with your room after making sure Brahms doesn't lurk behind the walls. You gather more pillows and blankets, adjusting them on the bed to your liking. You even go and unpack the lights you ordered since Brahms is not really comfortable around fire. You put the lanterns and fairy lights all around the room until you are satisfied with the result. By the time you are done, it's already dark outside, and your room looks like a cozy nest with dim lights and the scent of fresh strawberries because of the tray of snacks and drinks on the bedside table.

You are really satisfied when you leave your room to get Brahms, who is already in the living room with his mask on. You can't help but frown at the sight of him. "What's wrong, honey?" You ask him softly, cradling his face in your hands as he accepts you stepping between his legs. His warm palms find their way to the back of your thighs immediately. When he doesn't reply, you continue. "Do you not want to see my surprise? Do you want to do something else?" He shakes his head.

Ever since you earned Brahms's trust, the man avoids wearing his mask around you as much as he feels comfortable without it. By now, you only see it on him when something is wrong.

Biting your lip, you think through your next step. "Do you want to take a bath with me? Bubbles and everything." Finally, he nods. "Good," you smile at him, taking one of his hands in yours to link your fingers together. "Come, then." He follows you up to his room like a lost puppy, watching you prepare his bathroom without a word. "You can take off your clothes," you tell him, glancing at his towering figure over your shoulder when you check the water's temperature for the last time.

You didn't share your plans with Brahms, but maybe he can feel it in the air. He knows something is coming, and you want to give him the chance to say no. "You know," you start. "We can watch a movie, too. Or I can read." Both of you are in the bathtub, enjoying the warmth of the water. The air is heavy with steam and the scent of the bathbomb you used. The water is green and glitters a little under the light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. "No," he says. The porcelain of his mask is cold on the side of your face as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms are around you while your back is against his broad chest. His hands are cupping your breasts, just holding them for his comfort. "But you can change your mind at any second, okay?" You ask him. "What is our safeword?" "Doll." "Good boy," you praise him, reaching behind you to pet his hair.

You take your time in the bathroom, making sure to wash his worries away until his body is relaxed in your hands. You massage his shoulders, caress his chest, and play with his curls while he lets you pamper him until the water is almost cold and you have to get out. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, leading him out of the room with his hand in yours. "Yes," he replies. He still wears his mask, but you don't mention it. You know he will take it off when he is ready. "Did you change your mind? We can go to sleep, too, baby." "No. I want to see your surprise." "Okay, love," you smile at him soothingly.

You step into the room first so you can see Brahms's reaction. You know it's nothing fancy or grand, but you want to make him feel comfortable and cared for. Even after all the things you did together and with each other, you want to make his first time special.

Brahms doesn't even know how to feel at the sight of your room. He can see the pale face of the moon through the window above your bed, which is full of soft pillows and warm blankets. Small lights hang from here and there, mixing with the dim glow of the lanterns. He had never seen anything so inviting and comfortable.

"What do you think?" You ask him after a while. Your heart thuds against your ribcage since you can't see his expression. "I love it," Brahms answers, caging you in his arms to pull you to his body. His chest is still bare, and your fingers rake through the soft hair. "I love you." "I love you too," you grin at him, kissing the cold lips of his mask. "Do you want to lay down a little?" You ask him. "We have snacks." Brahms follows you to the bed, resting his large body among the soft fabrics while you put the tray in the middle between your bodies. He still feels amazed because of everything you did for him. "Comfortable?" You ask. He nods. "Thank you." "Anything for my baby," you grin at him cheekily just to lighten the mood. "I'm glad you like it, though. And I'm proud of you for keeping your promise." "How do you know?" He asks, pushing his mask away a little to eat some grapes. The fruit pops under his teeth, flooding his mouth with its sweet taste. You shrug, not knowing how to answer. You just know it. Brahms became such a deep part of you that you simply feel him whether he is around you or not. But you are right, though. Brahms wanted to respect your wishes even if it drove him bad most of the day while he waited for you. "Do you want me to read you?" You ask him. "Just a few pages." Even though he is much more relaxed than before, you can still notice his fidgetiness. "Please." So you read him for a while, letting the remaining tension leave his body as he almost melts on the bed. Every now and again, you have to glance at him to check if he is still awake.

"Come here," he says when you pause for a second. "I want you close." Putting away the book, you crawl up on him to straddle his hips. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, playing with the hair on his chest. Your thumbs rub over his nipples a few times. "Yes," he hums, watching you. His shirt is big on you, but he can see the soft line of your breasts and the pretty pebbles of your nipples. He is already pulling on the fabric to get rid of it, but you stop him. "No," you say, and he can't help but be surprised. You never say no when he wants your tits. "What?" "I said no," you tell him. "We will learn new things today, Brahms." He doesn't like it but keeps quiet. You already did so much for him. "I know patience is not your strong suit, but we will work on it today." Oh, no, just not on my patience, he thinks, grimacing under his mask. "And we will learn about building," you grin. You don't have to see the man's face under you to know he doesn't like what you say. "Do you trust me, Brahms?" He nods without thinking. You are the only one in the whole world he fully trusts. "Then believe me when I say you will like it." He nods again.

Brahms watches you with interest as you grab a strawberry from the tray. The fruit is red and ripe. "Do you want to take off your mask?" You ask him. When he shakes his head, you continue. "Then push it out of the way a bit." He can do that. He lets you feed him fruit after fruit while he stares up at you the whole time. He is surprised at how intimate the act is despite its innocence. "Good boy," you break the silence after a while. "Now, the next step." You can feel his body tense under you with anticipation. Putting another strawberry in your mouth, you lean on his chest to reach his lips. For a second, Brahms just stares at you, not knowing what to do before smoothing his hand on your hips and accepting the fruit from your mouth. Both of you munch on it until your lips meet in a soft kiss. The edge of his mask pokes your face, and you want to take it off and throw it as far as you can but decide against it. It has to be Brahms's choice. "Do you want another one?" You ask him. Your words brush over his lips, and he wants another kiss but nods anyway. Repeating your previous actions, you stay capturing his lips with your own. You let yourself taste the fruit on his lips, licking into his mouth with a satisfied hum. Brahms's nerves are on edge as he lies under you, holding onto your hips while you play and tease him. He barely has time to deepen the kiss when you back away to nibble on his bottom lip, biting into the soft flesh softly and soothing the slight pain with your tongue. "Y/N," Brahms says your name with a dreamy sigh as your lips trail down on his bearded jaw and hairy chest. Your tongue flicks over one of his nipples, and he gasps at the new sensation. "Oh!" "Did you like it?" You grin at him, caressing his abs. He is warm under your palm and curious fingertips. "Yes," he grunts. The curve of your lips widens when you see him reaching up to his mask to tear it away from his face and letting it drop next to the bed. "And here is my handsome boy," you croon. "Hey." His heart flutters and the shade of his cheeks darken under your appreciative gaze. "Hey." You lean up to kiss him again, letting him dominate the motion for a few seconds. Your bottom still rests over his crotch. His erection twitches and throbs every time you rub against it as you move. "How are you feeling, Brahms?" You ask him while peppering his face with small pecks. His fire-marred skin is rough under your lips. "Good." Brahms stays with the easiest answer when he can't find the right words. He is excited and hungry for you, but at the same time, he feels soft, and his heart could burst out at any moment because of all the things you make him feel. Your nails crawl over the front of his body, sending goosebumps all over his skin as you move down until you hoover above his knees, and your face is level with the obvious tent in his pants.

The world starts to spin around Brahms with you in the focus when you tug on his pants, and his cock springs free. His desperate grunt is loud in the quiet room when you hold him in your hand and stroke up on his shaft. "I want to see you," he says breathlessly. For a second, you want to deny him but decide otherwise. Quickly, you get rid of his shirt while you stay bare on top of him.

You are so beautiful, he can't even breathe. Your skin looks soft under the dim lights, and every dip and curve of your body seems to beg for his touch. His palms tingle with the need to reach out for you. And he does. A moan escapes your lips when he sits up a little to knead one of your breasts. His thumb runs across your skin, following the curve of your flesh before rubbing over your nipple. "I want it in my mouth," he breaks the silence again, hoping you will give in to his wants once again. "Not yet," you shake your head. "I want to prepare you first." He feels prepared enough, though but can't argue when he chokes on his own saliva when you focus your attention back on his cock. For a long second, he hears nothing but the ringing of his ears as you stroke up and down on his length. Your thumb follows the line of one of his bulging veins until you reach the tip. "You are so pretty," you hum under your breath, still teasing the bulbous head of his cock. You can feel him throbbing in your hold. Brahms's chuckle is breathless and hoarse. "Me or my dick?" You grin. "Both. And you taste good, too." The man saw you take him in your mouth several times already, but the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips is still mesmerizing. You are warm and wet around him. Your tongue is flat against the underside of his shaft. "Y/N!" He gasps out your name, tightening his hold on the blankets around him. Black dots dance in front of his eyes as you suckle on him, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue to gulp every now and again. You take your time, though. You don't chase him to his orgasm, and he never imagined suffering so sweet.

A desperate whimper escapes his closed lips when you move away from his cock. He wants to cum so badly. "It's okay, Brahms," you coo, smoothing your hand over his chest. "You will get your reward for being so patient." The man watches with wide eyes as you settle back above his crotch. Your pussy is nestled against his cock, soaking him with your juices. Something curls in his stomach with anticipation as he stares at the motion of your hips. You rock back and forth, letting your wet heat slide over his cock repeatedly. The tip of his cock nudges your clit every time. "How do you want me, Brahms?" You ask him, panting. The slow pace you set is hard on you, too. Your pussy aches, and your walls flutter with need. After all these months, you want him inside you. Brahms's lips open, but no word comes out. His mind does not want to work. "Do you want me to stay on top?" You ask him. "Or you want to change position?" "Top," he grunts. Your hips rock and twist the whole time. "You." "Okay, baby," you nod.

Lifting yourself from his lap, you still hover above him with your hand between your legs this time. You slide your fingers over your pussy, rubbing your clit for a few seconds before pushing into your hole. A relieved sigh leaves your lips at the familiar stretch, but it's not near enough. You finger yourself above Brahms while the man can do nothing but grip the fabrics around him to keep himself from cumming. At this point, you don't even care about the slight pain you cause yourself. You add another and then a third finger until you are sure you are prepared enough to take his cock.

"Okay," you break the silence, mostly talking to yourself. You need several deep breaths to push down the impatience crawling up your spine. You want it soft and gentle, and if you lose your head, it will be anything but. "Are you ready?" You ask Brahms, glancing at his face. His eyes are glassy, and his lips open. Sweat sticks his curls to his forehead. "Yes," he grunts. "I want you, Y/N." "Good, love." Your smile is shaky. "I want you too." You never wanted anything so much in your life.

A heavy groan is punched out of him when he feels your entrance at the tip of his cock. Your hold on his shaft is steady and firm as you press him into you. You slide down on his slick cock inch by inch, enjoying the pressure in your walls and the way he slowly fills you up. Brahms doesn't even dare to breathe. He just lies under you, watching his cock disappearing in your tight hole. The noises escaping his throat are a mix of groans and whimpers. You are warm and wet around him, squeezing his cock all the way to the base. "How do I feel?" You ask, sitting on him with his whole cock in you. Your question is shaky. At this point, Brahms can't form words anymore. His brain is a mush of pleasure and need in his head. You envelop him tightly. He can feel himself rubbing against your inner walls as you start to rock your hips. They are small movements, but fireworks spark behind his closed eyelids at the feeling. A throaty groan is the only answer you get from him. "You can cum anytime you want, baby," you tell him, watching a vein bulging on his neck as he clenches his teeth together. "No," he growls, slipping his hands to your waist for a squeeze. He wants to feel your pussy when you cum around him. "But please," he continues, gasping. "Move!" To give some weight to his words, he grinds deep inside your wet hole. He reaches every nerve and every spongy spot that steals your breath away. "Fuck!" You wheeze, pushing down against him as you begin to rock back and forth on him more rapidly while his cock twitches and throbs.

"Brahms!" You cry out his name, bracing yourself on his chest as you lift yourself a little and drop back on his cock again. "Fuck!" You both groan at the same time. The man's hands slide up to your tits, palming and kneading your soft flesh. He works on you mindlessly, rubbing and pinching your nipples in reflex. "Again!" He demands, and you repeat your movement several times until you bounce on his cock with his hips pushing up in rhythm into your pussy. You can see as his stomach tightens and your juices soak the trimmed hair at the base of his shaft.

You feel light and drunk on his cock. Your eyes are half closed, and your limbs shake as you force yourself to move. Your pussy squeezes around the grith of Brahms's cock, wanting it to stay inside you until he floods you with his seed. Brahms wants that, too. There are moments as you grind to each other that he is sure his dick will fall off because of the way you work on him. There are no thoughts behind his teary eyes as he stares at you, moaning and groaning. His hold on your breasts is painfully tight, but you have no mind or energy to stop him as he slides in and out of your drenched pussy.

Your vision blurs as you gasp for air. "I'm gonna- I'm-" Your toes curl in pleasure, and the burning coil in your stomach snaps in two. Your pussy flutters around his cock as you reach your climax, still bouncing and rocking. You cry in ecstasy as you fall into a deep spiral, twitching and jerking. Pleasure flares in your veins as you fall apart on his erection while he bucks into you deeper. You can't even tell anymore where your moans end and where his groans start. Your walls clamp around his cock while he empties himself inside of you. Hot spurts of cum fill your hole, and every shot makes you tremble and cry some more.

Brahms's cock still jerks and twitches inside you when you go limp on his body. Your mixed juices flow out of your pussy, soaking his balls and the sheets on the bed. Your muscles burn, your pussy aches from the stretch, and your limbs tingle. And while you fight with your heavy eyelids, Brahms has to learn how to breathe again. His chest heaves under you, and a low groan escapes both of your lips when you lift yourself from him and let your body fall close next to his. "How do you feel?" You pant. "Fuck," he groans, holding your thigh in his hand. You are soft and sweet against him. You grin. "I'm glad." You want to put away the tray that is still on the bed behind you, but there is no way you can move.

"Thank you, Y/N," Brahms breaks the silence after a while. "It was… I just…" "I love you, too, Brahms," you hum, cupping his cheek and raking your finger through his thick beard until both of you fall asleep in each other's arms.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

I have this headcanon for Alastor's back story where he's trans, and just as himself, as he is in the show, even as a kid. So his parents sent him of to a convent, were upon ww1 breaking out in his late teens, he ran away, forged a new identity as a man, got found out once he was already over seas, blackmailed a superior into letting him stay on, where he was introduced to radio communication, and the rest is history.

But all that to say, I like to then imagine, whenever anyone tells him something mildly outlandish, but definitely true, he likes to respond with "Yes, Vox, and I took a vow of celibacy when I was a catholic nun"

To which of course people think, "so you don't belive me? I mean but aren't you a virgin? Are you not????"

And of course, this never gets asked because who's gonna ask The Radio Demom about his Sexy Life.

Angel Dust that's who.

I imagine him doing an interview on Al's Show, just a mix of publicity for them both, hanging out because they're friends, and it's all a big middle finger to the Vee's.

Maybe it's pride month and so they were planning some talk about that, Alastor joking about a possible comming out, even though its plenty well know Alastor is some where on the ace spectrum to anyone with eyes.

They get on the topic somehow, Angel says something like, "I never laid myself across the bar like that! Second set of arms at most! Never my butt, never mind my legs! not after the first time!"

"Mh-hm. You got desperate in your flirting, and I took a vow of celibacy, when I was a nun. We all do silly things, Angel."

"Well, maybe I've laid out on the pool table, but it makes for good pictures. Anyway, I been meaning to ask you about that."

"About being a nun?

"No," angel laughs, plays it off, thinking he's joking. "About your being ace and all. No pressure, but like, you really never even wanted to try?"

"No, I find it quite repulsive. The idea even,"

"You don't watch nothin'? Read nothing either?"

"Ha! No! The filthy little novel Sister Amillia sneaked in the once was quite enough- are you okay Angel?"

Angel had infact just chocked on his latte. "Wait? Sister Amillia? Sneaked in? To where!?"

"The convent, Angel. I was 14, she was 16. Wonderful woman, taught me how to handle a knife, she left shortly after the novel was discovered- Sister Tabitha was as squeaky a little rat as she looked- never saw Amillia again, though."

"Wait, sorry. You were a nun, like, actually? What the fuck?"

One of the little lights that says they have a caller lit up, but Alastor ignore it for now. "Yes, Angel, do keep up."

"Wait, so like that nun costume you wear on halloween?" Angel blows right past the fact Alastor just came out as trans, because yeah. Didnt see it comming but, the trains already wizzing by, and more importantly- "Is that like your actual nun costume?"

"Ha! No, I flung that horrid thing in a garbage can on my way to the enlistment office when I was 17."

"Enlistment?" Angels begining to see what Alastor meant when he said this episode was going to be a unique experience for his listeners at the start of the braodcast. "Like world War 1, right? You were alive for that..."

"Yes, I figured with all the confusion one little girl-"

Angel's phone goes off. It's Val. Angel hits ignore.

"Fuck off Val, I'm off today" Angel says into his mic.

But they get interrupted again and again until Angel turns his phone off.

At which point all twelve of the little light that indicate the show had callers on the line, light up.

"Ah fuck. What does he want that bad? Can you just answer it real quick?"

Alastor flips a switch and answers.

"The fuck you want Val-"

"I'm not calling for you!" It's Vox on the other end, his voice booming from the speaker "Alastor! Are you fucking serious? You were a fucking nun?"

"Yes, Vox." He says with faux patience. "My goodness, did you all stuff your ears with cotton this morn-"

"So you DID actually take a vow of Celibacy? The other day at the meeting during my presentation, you said "that'll work, Vox, sure- and I took a vow-"

"Yes. I was there."

"And!?!"

"Celibacy, among other things. If this is a dig at my sexuality than-"

"Nah fuck that, hang on I'm doing math! Okay you were born in 1901, makes you 17 in 1918, yeah that tracks. Okay so 2024 make you 123, minus the 17 years to be conservative, thats 106 yeah?"

"I was 15 when I took that vow, and under threat of being institutionalized, if that's what you're getting at-"

"108! Ha! Oh my God! 108 years! That's gotta be a record!"

"What are you getting at Vox?"

"You took a vow!" Vox screams through his laughter. "All the pomp and circumstance! On consecrated ground! before god!? To abstain from sex! And even here in hell, were sin and blasphemy are rampant and free-"

"Careful Vox, your televangelist is showing-"

"Who gives a fuck!? You're the one whos upheld their vow to God for over a century like some devout saint!"

Angel and Alastor sit there staring at eachother while Vox laughs his head off around them

"Saint Alastor the Abstinent! The pantron Saint of Virgi-"

Alastor hangs up. "Well that was informative!" Alastor chirps "Well, What's to be done about this? Hm, Angel?"

And for some reason, an unholy one, surely, the first thing out of Angel's mouth is "I could suck you dick? If that- would count?"

And it's a testament to how far they've come as friends, or pooooossbily Alastor's nerves, or maybe his sheer unwavering bravado, but Alastor only bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he get out between laughter "I don't- have one!"

And then they're both laughing and laughing and laughing, and eventually they calm down, and Alastor gets a thoughtful look. "Though, Vox did have one good point."

"Oh?"

"That does have to be a recorded, at least among sinners. Why! I very well might have redeemed myself! We should certainly bring this up with Sera at the next conference!"

And then their off both laughing again, imaging Serra's face when she realises she's going to have to look into yet more research onto the workings of redemption from Heaven's end.

[psuedosugu]

thinking about suguru with a witch-hunted reader.

“she’s a witch, she has to be!”

“she’s unholy, impure.”

“that girl, she has the devil in her.”

-regular whispers you heard from the inhabitants of the remote village you lived in, their judgmental gazes piercing into you, as they sensed your cursed energy, as they sensed that something was wrong with you.

you learnt to stay indifferent to their words, or at least to look the part, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t get to you sometimes. you often dreamed of leaving for the city, but you had little money and life would be hard, perhaps one day, though.

perhaps their observations weren’t of zero substance, though. while it might not have been particularly demonic, there was something unnatural about you. since the age of 8, you had seen these……things….lurking in the corners and in the dark. they were horrifying, and they only grew more hideous as you grew older.

then, at about 14, you realize that you had this strange connection to the world, particularly the oxygen around you. as you learnt how to harness your powers, you were able to create wind with nothing but your hands, and as your power grew, you realized you could do so much more, condensing air enough to lift, slice, and squeeze items, it was beautiful, but dangerous. you couldn’t let anyone know about your abilities, you couldn’t prove them right.

you slipped up though, of course you did, you couldn’t keep this part of you locked away forever. they had their proof now, they had their warrant to lock you away, planning to burn you on the steak for all to see, for all to celebrate the death of the witch. they didn’t really think it would be that easy, did they?

you killed them, the day of your execution. you killed the executioners and the onlookers, leaving only few to run away. you looked around at the chaos you had created, dead bodies limped everywhere. you were alone, so what now? you grabbed your belongings, stole some money (the townspeople were dead, its not like they would miss it, anyways), and set off on a bus ride, determined to make yourself a life. this was a new beginning, you thought, you were leaving everything behind.

this proved to be harder than you thought, though. with the money you had pocketed, you were able to stay some cheap motel at first, so atleast you weren’t sleeping on the streets, but your money wouldn’t last forever. you resorted to bussing tables at an old diner. the pay wasn’t great though, and you found yourself feeling isolated. you had no one to help you here, you were foreign and alone.

the day you got kicked out of your motel room, you were sitting in a park, unsure what to do, when a strange man approached you. he was tall, with long hair half up, half down, and a strange aura to him. “are you [first-name] [last-name]?” he asked with a kind voice. you eyed the man with distrust, but nodded anyways.

“ah,” he said, “ive heard so much about you. i suppose i should introduce myself. im suguru geto.” he smiled. suguru had heard the hushed bickering of a curse user, one who wiped out a whole village in self defense. he found you intriguing, and a perfect addition to his cause, his mission to eradicate all non-sorcerers, or monkeys, as he called them. “…what do you mean, ‘you’ve heard about me?” you stammered out, eyes slightly widening. he ignored your question, instead asking “do you have a place to stay, miss [last-name]?” you shake your head no.

“well, you can come with me if you’d like. i have a place you can stay, with other curse users.” of course he didn’t tell you the fine print yet, he needed to rope you in first.

you messed around with the words ‘curse user’ in your mind. so thats what people like me were called? you also played around with the idea of trusting this man. he came out from nowhere, and his offer sounded too good to be true, but you couldn’t wave away the comforting feeling he radiated. he was like you, and things couldn’t get much worse than how they were now, you thought, so that settled it.

you went with the strange man, unsure of what would happen to you. little did you know, you would be getting sucked into a life-altering decision.

pt 2 is coming eventually guys dw!!

[spectrum-spectre]

oh man... I just experienced A Thought™ again

I'm never gonna write this, so if someone else wants to, go right ahead (preferably with credit, please):

Everyone thinks that Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are alphas, but they're actually hiding their true designations--not because they're scared omegas, but because they're both secretly betas.

They're mimicking! You obviously can't choose what you present as (unless you go through bitching or studding, but this is rural Indiana in the 80's; nobody in that town has ever even heard of these things)--

BUT! Your designation can be partially influenced by your environment! That's why Steve's dad made him join three different sports teams; to encourage his body to develop into that of an alpha. Except, well... Steve doesn't really want that. He hates the culture surrounding alpha males, but he also sees how the world treats omegas of all genders, and he doesn't want to play a part in any of that bullshit. So his body decides to present as something else entirely.

Eddie's story was much the same, but he also went through a different kind of pressure from his family. His parents fought a lot, so he would play the mediator in a desperate attempt to keep them together (and so his dad would target his anger at him instead--just like he does with bullies at school).

Steve sees alphas as assholes, and Eddie sees alphas as abusive, but they both recognize they would be granted a certain level of safety and social standing if everyone thought that they were alphas instead.

That's not even getting into the fact that betas aren't exactly a hot commodity; Steve is terrified that people will find him boring--or worse, undesirable.

They came up with the plan together. Steve was a sophomore, and Tommy had dared him to try buying weed from the weird junior who still hadn't presented *yet. Eddie had just seen his last client for the day, but as soon as Steve approached the picnic table, both their presentations hit at the same time. There's no beta equivalent of a heat/rut, they just... suddenly Know™ that's what their designation is.

It was actually Steve's idea, at first. He remembered reading a book about mimicry in elementary school, and when he mentioned Monarch Butterflies, Eddie came up with the nickname King Steve (it only stuck because other students overheard Eddie refer to him as that while snarkily muttering under his breath). He helped Steve flesh out the details of the plan, and the two came to an agreement: they'd try to prevent targeted harassment from their respective cliques, under the threat of mutually assured destruction.

*in my mind, they go through their initial puberty around ages 11-13, and then their presentation/second puberty hits around ages 14-16. I imagine Steve was freshly 16, with Eddie just a few weeks shy of turning 17, so he was a bit of a late bloomer.

[sunsuns-babie]

If I Get My Way {K.SUNOO x F!READER}

IN WHICH: Kim Seonwoo aka Sunoo is a Sophomore at Decelis University and has a crush on the pretty Music Education Major Y/n Marsh. Seems like a match made in heaven since he’s also a Music Education Major and has had a crush on her since Freshman year when he met her at orientation… well sort of. He’s a little delusional about her but that’s okay, right? When finally given the opportunity to get to know her and potentially date her some weird things start happening that Sunoo doesn’t quite understand… which leads to the postponement of his grand plan to confess his feelings for Y/n. At the end of the day does he get the girl or does he miss out and think of what could’ve been?

ALSO IN WHICH: Sunoo and Y/n’s friends also have their own storylines and side quest relationships happening simultaneously with theirs.

PAIRING: Kim Sunoo x !Female Reader (ft. Mystery Character 1 & Mystery Character 2)

GENRE: Non-Idol AU, College/University AU, SMAU

WARNING: Swearing, sexual jokes/comments, allusion to sexual activity, attempts at humor (I don’t think I’m funny but I’m trying), jokes about murder/killing oneself, and Danielle from NewJeans as the face claim.

FEATURING: Lee Heeseung (EN—), Jay Park (EN—), Jake Sim (EN—), Park Sunghoon (EN—), Yang Jungwon (EN—), NI-KI (EN—), Jang Wonyoung (IVE), Shin Ryujin (ITZY), Choi Yeonjun (TXT), Choi Soobin (TXT), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), Karina (aespa), NingNing (aespa), Huh Yunjin (LE SSERAFIM), Yoon Keeho (P1HARMONY), Anton Lee (riize), Hwang Yeji (ITZY), and mentions of various other idols.

status: temporarily put on hiatus

start: Feb. 12, 2024

end:

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and is in no way a real depiction of the idols portrayed in it and has no actual connection to their real world selves. I don’t know them I’m just using their image for characters in a fictional story.

A/N: This is my first SMAU ever I’ve written stories on other platforms in the past and kind of stopped to be a reader for awhile but I recently got an idea for a story and wanted to try and make it a reality. So please forgive me if it’s bad I’ll try my best to make it enjoyable for you. But I barely know how to work Tumblr as a creator or writer so forgive me if this is all over the place 😭😭😭.

A/N 2: If you want to be added to the taglist for this SMAU you can comment on this post or which ever chapter you see first!

INCOMING MESSAGES…

PROFILES: 2 HOT 4 U LONER BOYS CLUB (ft. 2 Baddies)

01: bitch boy

02: you’re not my mom

03: DDEONU GOOD!!!

03.5: bonus chapter 1

04: we going on a date 🤪

04.5: bonus chapter 2

05: free food + written part (755 wrds)

06: blasting Olivia Rodrigo traitor

07: Love changes a man ❤️❤️

07.5: bonus chapter 3

08: keeho is a furry confirmed ✅

08.5: bonus chapter 4 [written part] (1,304 wrds)

09: KILLING MYSELF [POSTPONED]

10: tba….

10.5: bonus chapter 5

11: tba…

12: tba…

13: tba…

14: tba…

15: tba…

16: tba…

17: tba…

18: tba…

19: tba…

20: tba…

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 14/16

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

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

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

2019 – Bradley

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

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

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

…            …            …

>>I’m in Germany.

>>Huh. I’m in Japan.

>>Oh. I like Japan.

>>We’ll have to go together sometime.

>>Wait.

>>What are you doing in Germany?

>>What do you mean?

>>I’m deployed here?

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

>>You let it slip years ago.

>>Oh. Shit. Did I?

>>I didn’t realize.

>>Yeah.

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

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

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

>>Of course you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>Weirdly, I have. Why?

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

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

…            …            …

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

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

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

                “Today sir?”

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

                “Thank you sir.”

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “Hangman. You look… good.”

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

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

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

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

                He snorts.

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

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

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

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

                “I love this song!”

                Right.

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

…            …            …

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

                “Hey! Seresin! Wait up!”

                “What do you want Rooster?”

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

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

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

                “Anything else you want to apologize for Bradshaw?”

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

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

                “Anything else?”

                Bradley blinks.

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

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

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

                “I like this shirt.”

                “Of course you do. Hmm.”

           ��    “Are you going to apologize to me?”

                “For what?”

                “For calling me slow?”

                “Nothing wrong with slow Rooster…”

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

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “I didn’t punch him.”

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

                “I actually went and apologized to him.”

                Both her and Bob blink.

                “Seriously?”

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

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

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

                “Yeah. Okay. Good luck with that.”

                “What she said,” Bob says.

…            …            …

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “Would it matter if I did?”

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

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

                “Been here the whole time.”

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

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

…            …            …

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

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

>>Everything okay?

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

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

>>Um. Actually yeah.

>>Once. Years ago.

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

>>Was he hot?

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

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

>>You and your moral compass.

>>I’m rolling my eyes at you.

>>I’m not a saint.

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

>>Got to try being a decent human right?

>>I guess.

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

>>Yeah. I guess you do.

…            …            …

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

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

                “Exactly!”

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

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

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

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

                “Lieutenant.”

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

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “Rooster.”

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

                “That’s enough.”

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

                “Lieutenant, that’s enough!”

                “That’s enough.“

                “You son of a bitch!”

                “Hey, come on!”

                “I’m cool, I’m cool. Hey, hey.”

                “That’s enough.”

…            …            …

>>I have had an awful fucking day.

>>Tell me something to cheer me up?

                He doesn’t get an answer.

…            …            …

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

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

…            …            …

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

                Maverick.

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

                Well shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…            …            …

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

>>The one with cancer?

>>Yeah?

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

>>Would you give me your mobile number?

>>Why?

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

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

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

>>I feel very alone.

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

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

                “Hangman?”

                “Rooster.”

                “Uh. What are doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

                Bradley blinks.

                “Um. Okay.”

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

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

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

                “Yeah yeah, give me a minute.”

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

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

…            …            …

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

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

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

                “Hey, morning.”

                “Morning. How are you feeling?”

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

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

                “What are you doing?”

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

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

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

                Weird.

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

                It’s perfect.

…            …            …

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

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

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

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

…            …            …

Dear Bradley,

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

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

She asked Maverick to pull your papers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never forget how loved you are Bradley.

By all of your parents.

Ice

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

…            …            …

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

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

>>I’m in the Dagger Squad.

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

                JAS.

                Born in 1986.

                Texan.

                God he’s an idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

>>Answer the door Jas.

>>Give me one good reason.

>>I love you.

>>Now please answer the door.

                “Hi.”

                “Hi.”

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

                “Thank you.”

                “Uh. You’re welcome?”

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

                “Sure.”

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

                “Um. Yeah.”

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

                “Can I hug you?”

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

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

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

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

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

                “Always a little slow Bradshaw…”

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

                “Nope. Probably not.”

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

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

                “I don’t want to let you go.”

                “Oh. I have a sofa? Or a, uh, bed?”

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

                “Worth a try…”

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

                “So… what was your first clue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

                “Okay… then what?”

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

                “Nick.”

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

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

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

                “What? Never...”

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

                “Not about this,” Bradley stresses.

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

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

                “I wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry.”

                “I swear I had no idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

                “Well, it has been about four hours.”

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

                Jake makes a choking sound.

                “You’re actually… family?”

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

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

                “Are you sure?”

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

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

                “Jesus Bradley…”

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

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

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

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

                “Or we can just… go to bed.”

                “Are you sure?”

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

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

                “What’s your middle name?”

                “What?”

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

                “Jacob Andrew Seresin.”

                “Bradley Peter Bradshaw. Nice to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

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

                “Yeah. Lead the way…”

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

                “Okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                “I love you.”

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

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

                “Off off, get them off…”

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

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

                “Demanding.”

                “Damn right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                “Oh god… Jake. Fuck.”

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

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

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

                “I love you so much.”

                “Can’t believe it took us this long.”

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

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

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

                “Damn right I do.”

                “Love you Jake…”

                “God you’re a sap…”

                “Only with you.”

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “Well, I’m going anyway.”

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

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

                “Two-fifteen? That’s impossible.”

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

                “Final attack point. Maverick’s inbound.”

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

                “Popping in three, two, one.”

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

                “Bombs away.”

                Seconds tick by.

                “Bull’s-eye!” “Holy shit!” “Yes.”

                “Damn.”

                Damn indeed.

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

…            …            …

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

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “Choose your two foxtrot teams.”

                “Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

                “And your wing man?”

                “Rooster.”

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

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

…            …            …

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

                God.

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

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

                He hopes Jake will be okay with him being unemployed.

…            …            …

                “You all right?”

                “Yeah, I’m good. You all right?”

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

                “What the hell?”

                “What are you doing here?”

                “What am I doing here?

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

                “I saved your life!”

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

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

                “Well, it’s good to see you.”

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

                “So what’s the plan?”

                Maverick is insane.

                That’s the plan.

                No sane person would think this was somehow feasible.

                “You’re not serious.”

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

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

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

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

                “Let’s find out.”

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

                “There’s guys up there, Mav.”

                “Yeah.”

                “There’s more over there.”

                “Okay. Let’s start running.”

                “Yeah, run. Run.”

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

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

                “Yeah.”

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

                “Holy shit!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                “Mav, can we outrun these guys?”

                “Not their missiles and guns.”

                “Then it’s a dogfight.”

                “An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?”

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

                “But you are here,” Mav counters.

                “Come on, Mav. Don’t think. Just do.”

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

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

                “I’m sorry, Goose.”

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

                BOOM.

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

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

                “Hey, Hangman, you look good.”

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

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

                He’s alive.

                Nothing else matters.

…            …            …

                Having working engines to land matter.

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

                Fuck this shit.

…            …            …

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

                “You good?”

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

                “Chalked yourself another kill.”

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

                “Mav has five. Makes him an ace.”

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

                “Thank you for saving my life.

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

                “You need to go to the fucking sickbay.”

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

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

                “Come on, take me to sickbay.”

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

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

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

                “I thought you were taking me to sickbay?”

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

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

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

                “Your idiot though. I hope?”

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

                “Thought you were going to kiss me?”

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

…            …            …

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

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

                “Couple of days.”

                “Over a decade.”

                They look at each other and both pull a face.

                “It's complicated.”

                Maverick looks between them and simply nods his head.

…            …            …

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

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

                “What?”

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

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

                “What?”

                “Yeah.”

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

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

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

                “Natasha!”

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

                “Fuck.”

 …           …            …

>>I need to tell you something.

>>Through Grindr?

>>Yeah well, it’s relevant I guess.

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

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

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

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

                “Yeah, really.”

                “Oh.”

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

                “Good. Just the way I like it.”

                “Me too.”

2019 - Jake's POV

[noroi1000]

F**k your fav 14 - Threesome

F**k your fav | ←Previous • Next(Epilogue)→

Threesome?😏🍆🍑🍆😏

Summary: It's finally that time, right? Satoru had a plan to finally give you a moment with Suguru. That's why it's finally going to happen...

Warnings: Threesome sex (double penetration)

You were at home with Satoru, and your kisses were getting more and more heated. His touch on your skin felt so hot. You wanted to take a bath together. Together, your bodies would be pressed against each other. You felt like doing it, especially after his hands reached between your legs. You thought he forgot this day was coming. You hoped nothing bad would happen today. Because you couldn't forget that today was supposed to be the day you would have a threesome with Suguru. He was in your house. You knew he was somewhere. Basically, Satoru was supposed to tell him when you were ready to start. He didn't have much to do that day, so he took his time. And unlike you, he was quite calm.

On the way you undressed. When you touched the bathroom door, you were already wet from his fingers prodding your entrance through the fabric. His cock was already half-hard as you felt his hips thrust against you. But when you entered the bathroom, you saw something you didn't expect. Suguru was taking a bath. And you were afraid that if he saw you. Or rather, you were afraid that he would see you. You were only wearing pants and had your hands on the back of Satoru's neck, looking at the steamy shower window.

You wanted to step back so as not to disturb him. But Gojo had other plans. Deliberately doing everything he could to make sounds, he pressed against your body.

Everything was just as he planned. He knew from the beginning that Suguru was taking a shower. And that meant you could start there. After all, no one will bother you anyway. Threesome in the shower? Maybe if you wanted?

But he preferred to take care of everything when you were all almost naked, and invite Suguru to join you. So the moment he took a shower was perfect.

"Satoru –." you murmured softly to tell him to change your position, but he started kissing you, and suddenly he slapped your ass with his open hand, causing a hard slapping sound.

You moaned into his mouth, pushing a little to get out of the bathroom.

"Let's go– mm!"

"Do you really think I don't know that you're doing this on purpose?" He said this as he turned off the water, leaving the cabin. He tied a towel around his hips.

"Suguru." You said it with a small blush.

You didn't do it on purpose! It's Satoru! It is his fault! You didn't want to disturb him while he was taking a bath!

"Now that you've finished showering... Come to the bedroom right after you dry off!" Satoru suddenly called, throwing you over his shoulder and running to the bed, laying you there with a devilish smile.

Ripping off your pants, he started playing with your entire body.

"Mochi, do you think you can take both of us?" the white-haired man asked you, kissing your breasts as he rubbed your clit.

With small grunts, you considered answering him. Because you have no idea. And you enjoy watching Satoru moan as he lies beneath Suguru, taking his length while the pink cock dangles between his legs or rests on his stomach. Satoru loves watching Suguru's cock disappear into your tight pussy. And he also loves to fuck you. Watching you moan as he stood next to you was beautiful.

It wasn't a bad thing that he recorded a short video when you weren't looking.

This was another difference between Gojo and Geto. Gojo was disturbing your privacy. He was everywhere, invading your space.

"I don't know what exactly... Ah..." you moaned as he inserted his fingers into you.

"Answer me, darling. Because I know you can do it." he asked, quickly pushing his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace.

This caused your thighs to move against his hand to gain more friction. Basically, the faster you come, the wetter you will be. This means that it will be easier for you to endure hard fucking. Even though you both could fuck right now and wait for him to come, Satoru prefers to prepare you for what's coming. Oh, what's going to happen here is going to be the wildest.

"Everything that happens here will be for us." He laughed, lifting you by your legs and sitting you on his thighs. He lifted your hips to insert his cock into you.

Satoru's tip brushed against your entrance, and he pushed your body down too quickly, sighing loudly into your boyfriend's shoulder. Satoru sighed, feeling your walls around him.

You glanced sideways at Suguru who had just entered the room at that moment, clearly watching Satoru's balls press against your body as you sat on him.

"We're already waiting for you to join." Satoru purred, moving your hips up and down.

"So good. I didn't know you guys would be like little whores." He laughed.

You saw him close the door sharply and turn the lock. Does this mean that he prevents you from escaping? What the fuck is going on here?! What is this??! What's going on here?! You feel more like you're about to get raped by a beast than like you're about to have a threesome! But it basically means the same thing with these two...

Satoru and Suguru... This kind of thing is normal for them...

As you ground your hips, moving your body on the cock, you were suddenly grabbed by your arms.

"You really did this on purpose to start this game, right?" he whispered into your ear, lightly biting your earlobe.

"Yup."

"I... I don't!” you whined, holding Suguru's hand in yours.

"So this was Satoru's plan?" he chuckled. Then he whispered in your ear. "But I know you like this turn of events too. You're just afraid to admit it. You want to be fucked, right?"

Yes, you want. Especially when he said it in such a voice... And now you're sure that Satoru participated in this to tell him exactly what you like. Even before, you couldn't imagine that Suguru's voice could excite you so much!

"Suguru." Gojo exclaimed, handing him something, one hand on your hip, pushing you down his cock. "Until you are completely hard, you have her ass. Maybe she'll be more used to it?"

"Huh?!" You moaned, looking at his blue eyes full of lust and amusement.

The only double penetration you had was Satoru's cock and a dildo! But it wasn't the other guy! Moreover, you have to take two penises of this size?! How?!!

But you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to this threesome.

You were supposed to say whether you agreed or not right after you had sex with Suguru. You were so distracted and soft after two orgasms that when they asked you about it, you didn't understand what was happening around you.

And you agreed. Because it was so good.

Your mind swirled around the memory of a beautiful feeling. This sex was very pleasant. You loved this feeling. And your perverted part of your mind then spoke for you. And knowing that a threesome could be a combination of two very pleasant experiences, you agreed.

And now you felt lubricated fingers opening your ass to then press into you.

It wasn't the first time you had a cock in your pussy and fingers in your ass. To be honest, Satoru likes to try everything. The important thing is that you agree. Or he has a feeling that you will agree to it. Just like this moment.

While you were cuddled up to Satoru, you lay on his chest, waiting for what was about to happen. And when you lay there completely, with your ass sticking out, you knew it was about to happen.

You'll soon be stuffed to the brim with cocks...

Suguru and Satoru didn't mean to hurt you. After all, you were close to them. They didn't mean to hurt you. But just like Satoru, who knows the limits of your body, Suguru didn't know that. That's why he was even more gentle when he put the condom on his semi-hard penis. And he began to press into you, clearly listening to how your body reacted. He listened to your sounds and also tried to feel all the tremors of your body. Not to hurt you. It was a really good move to enter you before he was at his maximum size. It's certainly easier for yourself now. Besides, when he has an erection completely, he will already be inside you, and it will be easier for you to get used to him.

"You okay?"

"Mhm..." you muttered, your face pressed into Satoru's shoulder.

You were wet. And you also didn't fight the feeling of them being inside you. You let them move inside you. You let them feel pleasure inside you, knowing that they would make you feel good.

Your buttocks were pressed against Suguru's hips as he began to move, and you moaned as he became bigger.

You did so well. You were so incredibly tight. Now much more than before. The fact that you are filled on both sides shows what you experience perfectly. You're so tight, but you're taking it so well. The movements of two lengths inside you make them feel good too. They don't even have to move hard to feel like they're in a phase of ecstasy.

However, they liked to play a little rougher.

Satoru started thrusting into you from below, hitting your wet pussy harder. Not to be left behind, Suguru began to move into you faster.

The way it looked from a different perspective was probably strange. Maybe even sexy.

You, bent over, lying on the chest of the only man. Your hips are positioned so that he can easily push into you. You lay there while two cocks spread your poor holes.

"T-oru...."

"Don't you sound so sweet? You make beautiful sounds when you take two cocks!"

And you expected that they did it on purpose.

They giggled to let you know they liked it.

While your face is completely fucked and you moan with tears in your eyes at the intensity.

You wanted to cum. The strange feeling was mostly pleasant. You were held by two sexy men who were taking care of the lower half of your body. They were beautiful, and their bodies felt so good. That's why you wanted to cum. You wanted to put your body on the line of orgasm so that they could give it to you in a moment.

But Suguru suddenly backed away, lightly slapping your ass.

You let out a disappointed moan, looking at him with sad eyes. Horny, sad puppy?

And then you were even more disappointed when Satoru did the same, backing away. Taking you off his cock.

"Don't worry, baby." He said it with a smile. You stopped worrying about not having an orgasm a bit when he said that. But still...

Suguru removed you from your boyfriend, kissing your neck a little before placing you on the warm spot where Satoru lay. Your back touched the soft bed, and your legs were spread out. And they both stared at your dripping juices.

Satoru handed Suguru the bottle of lube again while he removed the condom.

They must have given each other some silent signal about changing positions. Because you didn't hear them say anything. Or your mind is only focused on pleasure. Both options were possible.

The fact that they switched places like that meant only one thing...

Your pussy was filled with Satoru's cock once again. And you enjoyed being filled. And Satoru was lying on top of you, kissing you passionately. While Suguru poured lube down his length and onto Satoru.

Even though this time they weren't playing rock, paper, scissors to find out who was on top, they figured it out. Satoru is too jealous to let Suguru be the only one who has a dick or hands on his girlfriend. That's why he prefers to fuck you while Suguru towers over him.

It was good enough for him to agree to it.

So you lay on your back with your legs spread wide to the sides as the dark-haired man held one of your knees. Above you was Gojo, who was panting against your neck, pushing lightly into your body. Shaking. And behind him was Suguru kneeling, holding one hand on his hip, and pushing into him, giving him double sensations.

You can come just by fucking your pussy. Because of the pressure your warm walls provide, but you can also cum from another cock pounding into you from behind, sliding over the sweet spot that feels so good. Both could have made him come. And combined together, they were giving him too much pleasure. He loved this feeling. And that's probably what he really meant when he thought about threesomes. It felt so good, but overwhelming.

To have such an intimate moment with the two most important people to him? That's it.

Even though the next few minutes passed, he groaned loudly, biting your shoulder and filling you to the brim with his seed. As Suguru continued to hit his hips, causing his length to move, you came, your walls sucking in the white-haired man's softening, sensitive length..

Grunting, Suguru came, thrusting a few last times before pulling out of the white-haired man, watching his cum leak out slightly. It was the same with Satoru. He pulled out of you to see a large amount of his cum flowing from your quivering hole.

"Round two?" He asked, patting your thigh.

Maybe let him decide first what his favorite type of sex is?

[dr-duckie]

soooo has anyone thought of a mdzs x svsss transmigration au with shen jiu and meng yao?

i’m not going into detail over their similarities but most people get the idea— brothels, yqy/lxc, spite, villainous antagonists that didn’t deserve what they were put through as a child, late start in cultivation, cunning personality, etc etc

yea.

let me start: shen jiu, one day, is gifted a high quality book set from one of his brothel jiejies when visiting them. at first, shen jiu had no plans to legitimately read them (mostly due to a lack of leisure time), but he eventually got to reading it when he was on a qian cao-mandated break after a qi deviation.

he gets hooked. when SJ is nearing the end of the novel, his thoughts are as followed: JGS deserved to get castrated and his limbs thrown to the endless abyss— WWX, although he was absolutely shameless, he was at least competent— LWJ was a fool for being so in love, but he was moral and loyal— and lan xichen…

an ache forms in shen jiu’s heart whenever he thinks about him. lxc, a man with a gentle, pacifistic, amiable personality who believed in what was right all the way until the end. he wholeheartedly supported and trusted his sworn brother, jin guangyao, until he couldn’t anymore.

shen jiu was touched. lan xichen, that man, had wasted all his efforts on an irredeemable monster. in a similar fashion, yue qingyuan was doing the same.

as for meng yao… shen jiu resented him. he had a loving mother, one who worked so hard for his happiness, only to squander all her efforts. meng yao… had what shen jiu envied the most in the newest disciple he just brought in. luo binghe. imo, it would be a clear sign of shen jiu’s self hatred projected onto meng yao. he sees the two of them as the hopeless scum of society, too broken to be loved. they were “charity cases” that couldn’t be fixed, no matter what.

soon after shen jiu finishes the novel, he falls into a qi deviation (the very same one that shen yuan transmigrated into) and dies. through some time space dimension jumping, shen jiu lands into the body of one 14 yo meng yao. and that’s just the beginning of his story.

shen jiu starts out by practicing cultivation in secret. meng yao’s body, although he is no prodigy, would definitely benefit from practicing from a younger age. then he gets to planning. with how shen jiu is, he would not step a foot in the karp tower, with a system or not. like, just no. i believe he’d set JGS on fire if he ever had to see the guy. the only plot point shen jiu intends on fulfilling is saving lan xichen, and then living a comfortable life away from the jianghu.

but within a year of living with meng shi in the brothel, shen jiu grows attached to her. he *wants* to make her proud, even if he wasn’t her real son. he was a total impostor. but even so, he didn’t want her legacy to be tainted by the actions of jin guangyao— who was now still meng yao, who is now shen jiu. but he doesn’t want to go to the jin sect. after an arduous process of actual communication with someone for a long time, meng shi realizes that the jin sect wouldn’t be good for her son, and jin guangshan wouldn’t help her *or* meng yao. the night before meng shi dies, she tells shen jiu that she loves him, regardless of whether he may fulfill her dreams.

aaaand, after that, shen jiu buries meng shi. he makes enough money as an artist (in secret, with his skillset from qing jing) to give her the proper burial rites. after that, he runs away. shen jiu finds a job as an assistant to an artist who sold fans and paintings in caiyi town. through his job, he meets NHS first, when he’s on his first year of being st the cloud recesses. surprisingly, shen jiu and nie huaisang have a friendship that… isn’t too bad. shen jiu is amiable, shows off the different fans he’s painted, and nie huaisang eagerly buys all of them. nie huaisang also buys out shen jiu’s other works, like his poetry and short stories. that day, with shen jiu’s qiankun pouch full, he treats himself to tanghulu.

the second encounter with nie huaisang brought along jiang cheng and wei wuxian. at that point in time, they were investigating the waterborne abyss problem. shen jiu, a year older now, shows nie huaisang his “new” invention: the war fan. wei wuxian is absolutely delighted at the new invention, and jiang cheng, although less excited that WWX, is considerably impressed as well. as for NHS, well, words can’t describe his happiness. shen jiu, on a whim, gifts it to him for free— mockingly thanking NHS for being such a generous patron. nie huaisang, unable to contain his excitement anymore, jumps on shen jiu and embraces him dramatically. this causes such a commotion, lan wangji comes over. with his brother.

(okay, i’m done writing for today.)

[petrssecrethideout]

"Alright everyone we are back! And y'know what, instead of trying to do more of an intro, I'm just gonna leave it to you Dale."

"What? Why?"

"...you're kidding right? It's December second there's no way you're not gonna spend the whole podcast talking about cu-"

"OHHHHH YEAH! I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me. Well folks, the cum drum challenge is finally over, and I... well I have some bad news. I didn't fill a whole barrel."

"What?"

"Yeah dude I'm really bummed about it, I feel like i let a whole bunch of people down and--SIKE! I ACTUALLY FILLED TWO!"

"Oh my god, you--"

"Hahaaaaah, I got you there didn't I? You were so worried!, but don't worry y'all, when Dale says he's going to deliver, he fucking DELIVERS!"

"So how the fuck did you manage that?"

"Ok so you know how i said I had to cum 10 times a day to make my goal, well 10 quickly turned into 14, then 23, then 34, and after that I lost count because I got this machine from a friend that jerked me off while I was sleeping, so even after I was cumming 34 times a day there was more after that."

"Jesus Christ dude, that's crazy."

"I know, I was in this constant horny haze, it felt so good, like outside of the podcast all I was doing was lifting, eating and jerkin it! Kind of felt like a vacation honestly."

"How did it affect your gains?"

"Get this: I gained 20 pounds of muscle in a month."

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

"i KNOW RIGHT! And like, I'm fucking huge so every pound at this point is an uphill battle, so, like 20!? its crazy."

"Fuck, man."

"And I'm not the only one either, I got some dms about guys who also took the challenge, and dude holy shit look at this."

"Who is that!?"

"That is.. well I'm not gonna give out full names but Douglas from North Carolina, who was a former bodybuilder, kinda got out of it, tried out the challenge, and gained.... you're not ready for this: 134 pounds in one month."

"That--there's no way that isn't possible."

"I'm telling you dude, I thought it was fake, but he's been posting on Instagram every day and its not only real, but its SO fucking hot. He said something about competing again and, dude PLEASE. I would love to flex on stage with you."

"Ok stop trying to flirt with the fans."

"Hey, we just proved that cumming as much as possible makes me get fucking huge, I think we should let me be as horny as I want now."

"Okay, fine I guess I can't argue with that anymore, but how are you feeling now?"

"My balls hurt."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think its like the lack of stimulation. Honestly I might have to up my rates a bit. Oh, also that reminds me I have a business idea for you. You know how those people did the bathwater thing? Well I was thinking we could maybe sel--"

"No. Absolutely not. That's probably illegal."

"Ok but if it isn't can we do it? I know I'd be able to keep up with demand, and once I add a jerking off schedule to your workout plan you'd definitely be able to help"

"MY WHAT SCHEDULE??"

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 23]

I think after this it's kinda natural that Joris will never ever put his trust into anyone that isn't Kerubim or Atcham ever again.

I am once again asking why Kerubim has these books and what was he doing at devil's sacrament.

He's never beating those necromancy allegations.

There's a canonical name for the evil-ass looking huppermages.

Once again, this is Them in Dofus 2 when they reveal to Joris that they framed Julith or something. (source: my beautiful mind)

The Dessous comic implies that Marline bought this stuff from Kerubim which is so funny. It's beautiful how little of a shit the man gives for the safety of others.

I may not like Khan in his present form, as a macho gobbowler, but I like the idea of him. Joris, and his little "ghnhnn I have to do what's right, I have sacrifice my happinesss for other people" complex needs someone like that in his life who will buy him alcohol and help him run away from home when he's 14-16.

I'm sure if given another movie, or a show, Ankama's plan would have been to make Khan more likeable. He seems like a ride-or-die friend.

A scene ago he was in Julith's arms. So, she found it important to get him into the arms of this dofus-powered doll. Personally, I like to think that he started thrashing and maybe even bit her.

What did she lie about though? Liking him? Not wanting the Dofus? Being a competent person and not a fuck-up? (I love Bakara and say all of this with affection)

Once again, I empathize, that Julith was gloating about this to Bakara. That she doesn't really care about Joris (and by extension, Joris's feelings.)

She is killing a thousand people, who did nothing to her. These are civilians who came to watch a sports match. How many mothers are here with their sons and daughters who just wanted to look at their idols? If Joris never had Grougalorasalar's soul, if he and Kerubim never learned of her plan, THEY would have been among these viewers.

Julith is a very interesting character because she's ruthless, she has no morals, absolutely no understanding or compassion for others, — even Bakara or her own son, — and yet she is driven by love almost entirely. And that's her one redeeming quality.

But also — does it really change things, when you're driven by love to kill a thousand innocent people? To ruin your son's life? Because it doesn't really change much, to me...

I think there's a tragedy in that. She does love the idea of Joris. She loves what she sees of him, his voice, his face, and eyes. If she learned more about him, she'd probably love the parts he didn't show too. She'd love to see how he grew up.

She'd love how committed he is to those he loves. She'd love his ruthless march towards what he thinks is right that will allow him to close his eyes as he does unforgivable things. The only thing she would dislike is his loyalty to Bonta.

But the reverse will never be true. Joris can become a warmonger, a dictator, and a war criminal, but he would loathe to place his needs above those of others. He wouldn't do horrible things if he didn't think it was for the greater good of mankind.

As a 600yo man, Joris has lived through two apocalypses, — and yet people like Nox and Julith will lose 1-4 loved ones and go insane, killing people. I doubt he feels much for her, except for disgust.

Their friendship is so important to me. But also, somewhere out there, Tatak is crying.

I think one of the great tragedies of Joris's character is that he is doomed to break his own moral code, slowly but surely.

One must imagine Joris Jurgen living happily with the blood of innocents on his hands, because the alternative is more haunting.

One of her main issues is that she projects the actions of a few onto literally everyone in Bonta. Which is a very crazy fucking reach.

But I understand how she arrived at this reach to begin with: I don't think she was ever happy, before Jahash, and when she finally was happy, for once in her entire life, they took even that away from her.

You wanna know who else in this scene is going to have only 2 people who give meaning to his life? Jo—— [I am forcefully restrained by the police]

I just really like pointing out the similarities between Joris and Julith, — and the way these similarities underline their differences.

Once again: she doesn't give a shit about anyone's opinion. She is betting everything onto a nebulous future where Joris and Jahash and Bakara forgive and forget everything she did, and they live as a happy Fambly (in Brakmar, because that's a GOOD city and they will LOVE to move there, after being no longer welcome in Bonta due to the 1000 dead people.)

(Guy whose very emotional and Julith and Joris voice) guys I think she's starting to realize that their familial relationship is going to be unfixable.

Joris and everyone present here are quite aware that stopping this will kill one of them.

They are also very aware that one dead person is better than a thousand.

[dessertpanda]

PART 2 to my Goku x Reader Series ❤️

“An Invitation to Bulma's Birthday?” Y/N asked, as Goku read the letter out loud. “Yeah, Gohan brought it when we were training” Y/N was currently helping the boys with their math homework, explaining how angles work. “Interesting… Should we go?” She was unsure, which made sense since they’ve been basically blacklisted from that group for a good while now. “Can we Y/N? Pretty Please??” Goten was looking at her with hopeful eyes, puppy dog eyes if you will. “Me and Goku will talk about it, see what the best plan of action is” She looked to Goku for a little back up but it seemed he was lost in his own world. “Should we really go though? I mean, what if another fight breaks out?” Trunks asked while heading towards the kitchen. “True, but Goten it’s been awhile since you’ve seen your mom right?” Y/N returned her attention to him. “Y-yeah it has been, I’m still scared to be around her alone” He confessed, slightly embarrassed at his cowardliness. “Then it’s settled” Y/N looked towards Goku whose eyes were blown wide surprise that she changed her mind so fast.. “W-wait, we haven’t even talked about it” He argued unsure if this was smart or not. “Goku look, it’s been forever since Goten has seen his Mom, and he needs her” She gently grabbed Goku's arm so they could talk in another room. “But he has you, he calls you mama sometimes” Goku emphasized on Goten calling her Mom. “Sometimes like when he’s exhausted or just had a bad dream, he’s only looking for comfort” Y/N sighed shaking her head “Look, I know how hard it is to have a bad relationship with you parents, Obviously” Goku brought her into a hug of comfort, ever since the incident she been a little more sensitive about her parental situation. “I don’t want that for him, and if the best way for him to talk to her is with us around, then we have to bite the bullet” She pulled away from Goku taking his face into her hands. She could tell how uneasy he was about even the thought of seeing Chi-Chi again and Bulma to add to it. “Okay, as long as you’re there to keep me grounded I think, I think I can manage” He took a deep breath and grabbed her hand in his. Y/N has been noticing that little soft moments like these have been happening more and more recently. It scared her but at the same time gave her a little bit of hope that he might feel the same for her. “Okay,” She pulled away, heading back to the boys. She grabbed the invitation off the coffee table and read it out loud. “It says" You are invited to Bulma's Birthday Cruise, Location City Doc, be there by 12:00 pm, August 14, Dress is casual formal, RSVP by August 5. Hope to party with you” Y/N finished looking up at the faces of them all. “So, how do we RSVP?” Trunks asked, ignoring the fact that they have to RSVP today. “Umm Goku when did you get this?” Y/N asked, “Gohan gave it to me yesterday” “Ugh, They obviously don’t want us there” Trunks groaned “They gave it late in hopes that we wouldn’t be able to attend” He said pointing out that very obvious fact. “How are we going to RSVP? None of us has even talked to them in months' ' Goten was confused on how exactly they were supposed to do this. “And I don’t train again with Gohan till next week” Goku said with his hand on his chin “What about farther? Train with him today?” Trunks asked, “No, I trained with him yesterday as well” “Ugh, I have an idea but I really don’t want to” Y/N groaned and started to walk towards her bedroom. The boys sat patiently waiting for her return, intrigued as to what the plan was. “Call Old Man” The sound of ringing took over the living room as she returned. She took a seat next to Goku, laid her head on his shoulder and set the phones on speaker. “What the hell do you want?” A gruff voice whispered from the other side. “H-hey dad, It’s Y/N” She said calmly “Yes, I’m aware, Like I said what the hell do you want?” You could hear his thin patients through the phone. “Well. we’re calling to RSVP for the party” Y/N said gaining a little confidence as Trunks took her hand.

“WHAT” two other voices were now introduced to the call. “Chi-chi and Bulma?” Goku mouthed to her. She responded with a head shake “Yeah, there will be 4 of us, Me, Goku, Trunks, and Goten” She said smiling at the boys. “Um Yeah of course I’ll make sure to write your names down on the guest list” Vegeta said, “Perfect, I’ll see you then” She was about to hang up “Y/N wait” Vegeta called before she could hit the red button. “I’m assuming I’m on speaker, take it off but pull Kakarot so he can also hear this” They could hear shuffling on his side, as if he was moving rooms. Y/N followed in instructions, and pulled Goku right next to her face so he could hear through the phone. “Listen carefully, I want to talk to you about something when you get here, just us 3 I owe you an explanation and an apology” This surprised the Duo, “Also Chi-Chi, she’s umm what the Earth word.. She’s become a ?” He questioned his wording. Y/N tried her best to surpass the giggle. “At the party, I warn you two she is going to do all her power to make Kakarot jealous… She really hates you and Goku so just know.” There was silence for a moment. “ I just wanted to warn you so she doesn't ruin whatever that two of you have together, Okay” Now that surprised both of them. “VEGETA GET IN HERE” Bulma's voice boomed “I'M COMING WOMEN” He yelled back just as loud. “Okay, I’ll see you later” He said before hanging up. Both were too stunned to speak, finding out that Vegeta thought they were dating? “So I guess to them we are a thing?” Goku asked “Y-yeah, I’m sorry about his warning” She felt bad, as if Chi-Chi could betray him anymore. He sat still for a moment until he jumped up “Let’s do it!” Goku suddenly had this determined look on his face. “What exactly are we doing?” Y/n was definitely lost “She’s trying to make me jealous, lets fake date, so then she’ll think to back off” Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes. “Where did you get an idea like that?” “A movie,” Goku admitted. “Please, It could be really fun, Plus we can get the boys to play along, Think of how badly they hurt us” He was now giving puppy dog eyes, practically on his hands and knees. “Never took you for the revenge type, but I don’t know” She was conflicted, sure it would be fun and hilarious to mess with them but would it hurt her even more after it was all done. “Fine, let's ask the boys” She caved.His stupid puppy eyes were just as good as Gotens “If they agree then we will be the “Perfect” family” She gave a small smile, giggling at the mischief they would be doing. “YES” Goku was exhilarated that she agreed. “Boys, we’ve been thinking” Y/N looked to Goku to finish “Would you guys like to go to the party?” Goku was secretly  praying they would say yes “HELL YEAH” They yelled simultaneously. “Okay so it’s a yes but we need to get some more formal clothes, other than training” Y/N said grabbing her coat so they could leave now. “But Y/NNN  I don’t want toooooo” They wined and moaned. “Last I checked None of you even have polos, plus it will be fun and we can go eat after” she tried bribing them. “FOOD?/FUN?” Goku was excited for the food while the boys were happy to hear fun. “Yep, get dressed, let's go now” She sent the boys to get dressed and waited outside for them.

+Mini time skip+

The boys shopping was relatively easy considering Trunks wanted a Pink Polo, Goten got a green polo as to be opposite of Trunks and Goku decided to wait till Y/N got her dress so they could go matching. "Okay Boys seems like you two are set now we just gotta get my dress" Y/N smiled while paying for the boys shirts. They wondered the mall for a little seeing if a store was to catch their eyes. "Oh Y/N what about this one?" Goku pointed to a store with lots of fancy and formal dresses at the window. "OHHH this looks perfect" Y/N quickly rushed into the store. "Hello there and welcome to Arias formal dress shop, Would you like me to set up a room and help with your outfits?" The store lady asked. Goku and the boys followed in soon after. "Oh a family trip, how lovely" The little shop lady clapped her hands "I'll get a room ready Right away" she then rushed to show Y/N her room and pick out of dresses she thought would looking good on her. "You boys sit here and your mamma will come out to show them" The man they assumed to be the shop keepers husband, handed waters and pointed to a couch in front of a makeshift runway. "Oh, so cool" They thanked the man for the drinks and took their respective seats on the couch. A few minutes had passed when the shop lady came out from the dressing room door. "We present the first dress" She did little jazz hands as Y/N stepped out in a deep blue dress, that had little stars on it. "Oh wow Y/N that looks amazing" Trunks smirked at the beauty of his sister. "I like it" Goten added smiling brightly at her. Goku got up and did a small walk around with his hand on his chin. "I uh sorry Y/N but that color just" Y/N frowned at his comment. "It looks great on you but doesn't it kinda remind you of Vegeta?" he asked shaking his head. A look of realization spread across her face. "Oh i guess so yeah, Okay lets try to stay away from the Blues?" Y/N took his comment to heart and asked the Shop keeper to continue their search. To which she happily agreed to. The next dress was a dark Green, with a little lace on it. "No, not my favorite" Trunks was quick to turn that one down much to Goten displease. "I personally liked that one" He muttered. But non the less Y/N went to try on the next one. This dress was pink and had little white hearts on it. "You look like that mouse character" Goten stated. "NO WAY THAT ONE LOOKS AMAZING" Trunks argued. "HEY YOU WOULDN'T LET HER MATCH WITH ME SO SHE CAN'T MATCH WITH YOU" Goten yelled back.  "Hey" Goku hollered sternly, "What have I said about fighting?" He looked down at the two. "Only do it with our fist not our words" They said looking down but then glaring at each other. "Right, but settle that later" Y/N said with her hands on her hips. "Yes ma'am"

After another hour of trying on dresses non of the boys could agree on one. "Okay this is the last dress" The shop keeper said, her hair out of place and breath slightly heavy. Y/n walked out in a deep red dress that complement all her curves and had slight glitter scattered on it. "You look" The young boys stared "Perfect" Goku was quick to finish, getting up to stand next to her. "This one, this is the dress" He said making her do a spin. "YEAH IT'S PERFECT" Trunks got up and flew around his sister admiring the dress. "Yeah Y/N this is the best one" Goten followed after Trunks. "So this is it?" Y/N Asked looking at herself in the mirror running her hands over her curves. "Yes, this is it" Goku said smiling at her through the reflection.  "Alright let's get checked out and head home" Goku said before the Shop lady stopped him. "WAIT, I have a matching dress shirt for your husband here" she said handing Y/N a shirt that matched the dress exactly. "Oh, perfect now we have everything we need for the party" Goku said quickly trying on the shirt to make sure it fits. "Yep and we match, how cool" Y/N giggle hooking her arm around Gokus. "And for such a lovely family, I'll give you a discount" The man checking them out smiled brightly. "Oh thank you so much" Y/N bowed.

"BYE THANK YOU" The small fake perfect family walked out the store and out the mall to head home. One they arrived at home they put their party outfits away and Y/N began to cook dinner. As their night came to a close, Goku was starting to like acting like a family again. Specifically with Y/N who fit into the roll perfectly. He looked up into the bathroom mirror and smiled seeing Her things spread about her side of the counter. He gently picked up her perfume and took a deep whiff of it. He found it intoxicating but he didn't know what these feeling where exactly. "a-am I falling in love with my best friends daughter?" He asked quickly looking up at the mirror again to stare at his reflection as if the answer was awaiting him there.  He chuckled before setting the bottle down, "I guess I am, but this is nothing like Chi Chi" He smiled and began walking out to the front room where she where waiting for him. As he walked in he smiled at Y/N and the boys "Because this is real" he muttered under his breath. "What was that Goku?" Y/N asked glancing up at him. "mm Oh he-he nothing, just remembered I forgot to grab jeans" He giggled, scratching the back of his head. "Oh, thats okay I can just order you some" Y/N smiled, opening her arms so Goku could lay with her. He set his head on her lap and smiled looking up at her. "I love you Y/N" He said. Y/N heart flutter, this time was different that all others, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice. 'He really does' Y/N thought a blush and butterfly forming. For once since they began living together Y/N knew she could return those words and they would have the same meaning as his. "I love you too Goku". To this Goku smiled brightly up at her.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT, :) HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT,DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE