#i’m so fucking tired just let me go home

[mywritersmind]

WINNING KISS - LN4

summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.

listen up : no warnings!!

word count : 750

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.

I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.

“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.

“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.

He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.

A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.

She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.

The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.

As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.

She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.

My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.

I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”

I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”

“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.

She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.

“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.

She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”

I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”

She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.

“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.

“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.

“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.

She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.

When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.

She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.

When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  

“Do you— do you need help with that?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  

They both tense.  

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron Development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[andcars]

# 𝗙𝟭-𝗕𝗙 ─── GETTING CAUGHT STREET-RACING MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

IT'S NOT LIKE YOU to back down from your boyfriend's talents. you go ahead and start street-racing—you never promised to be good at it. but it is just embarassing for your boyfriend to find you in a police station. ───── MV33 LH44 DR3 GR63

TAGS . . . # gender neutral reader, street-racing, light angst, light couple arguments, all happy and sweet ending TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine LENGTH . . . # 1.4k words (around 300w each driver)

MAX VERSTAPPEN should be mad, he really should be, but somehow he isn't. He gets the call in the middle of the night and is half-awake as he listens to an officer rattle on how you got arrested—he listened to an officer rattle in italian in the early morning. whatever it is that he just said went one ear and to another.

"i'm sorry?" he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and hear how the officer changed to English. okay, you got arrested for street racing in italy. in fucking italy. he's being asked to go in person to bail you out. in italy. at 3am. okay. fuck.

as much as he doesn’t want someone to wake up to drive the jet, he isn’t so much keen on driving either. max pays the pilot early and double the moment he sees him, feeling really bad.

he should be totally pissed, he should be. but you’re leaning against the bars pouting as you see him. he doesn’t want to be upset at you, but he feels like he should be.

he sighs and pays your bail. you’re still pouting when you see him, not saying a single word. “will you at least tell me you’re sorry?” he asks, trying to get something out of you. it doesn’t work. “schatje (sweetheart), i had to wake up our pilot for this. at least say sorry to him.”

poor guy. when you get let out, the first thing you do is apologize to monsieur garnier. he’s very kind about it. though, max was right, he did have to wake up early. you're not about to be much of a burden to a man like him.

max doesn't stay mad at you either. it's like he's incapable of it off-track. when both of you are dead tired on the bed, he just pets you asleep. “if you want to race, don’t get caught,” he said, only half awake. “and maybe don’t do it too much like me.”

LEWIS HAMILTON is embarrassed to have gotten the news from social media. it was no more than an hour ago when he checked twitter (he would never call it x) to your arrest. headlines: ‘LEWIS HAMILTON’S LOVER ARRESTED FOR STREET RACING’. the media didn’t even bother to mention your own name.

you bail yourself on your own and come home to an upset lewis. it’s the race weekend, he should be focusing on the race. instead, he can’t stop thinking about your race. one that, of course, you never told him about.

“how long has this been going on?” he asks first.

you shrug, collapsing on the hotel couch. “a few months now.”

“months—“ he gasps into his hands, running them over his head. “and i only found out now?”

you shrug and turn away from him. “it’s my life,” you argue, “and it’s not like i’m the only one with a dirty history in racing.”

you’re bringing up spygate, he knows that. he calms himself before he could say anything hurtful towards you. “i do it in a safe environment—“

“people die during races, lewis”

“—and i play it safe!” lewis has to walk away from this building argument. “baby, i love you, but i don’t think you can compare formula one racing to street-racing. i need you to promise you won’t do this again.”

sure, street-racing is a fun hobby. and you’re still right about formula one racing being just as dangerous. but there’s some things you have to work on in a relationship. finding a middle ground. you sigh, turning to him, “i’ll only race if you can come then.”

he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.

DANIEL RICCIARDO wouldn’t say he’s a bad influence. however, it’s not like he’s innocent when it comes to this new hobby of yours either. yeah, he never told you to go ahead and start racing like a madman like he was with max on a redbull. but the message was still the same.

the message, of course, simply being: ‘i always wanted to try street-racing. i bet you’d look good doing it.’

it’s on your third race that you got arrested. you phone him yourself and he arrives in the police station with a worried face. he’s not upset, he’s fucking relieved you’re alive.

he asks the officer what happened and is hit in the gut with the fact that you went street-racing. you don’t even look at him to see the disappointed look on his face. it’s embarrassing. you did this just to look cool in your boyfriend’s eyes and it failed. you thought you had more time to improve.

you’re bailed and you and him walk out. “so…” he trails, voice surprisingly calm, “why’d you get arrested?”

weird question. “street-racing?”

he laughs and you finally look at him. he’s just got this stupid smile on his face as he looks at you. “no, i know you got arrested for street-racing, baby. i just wanna know what did you do to get caught?”

a grunt left you as you remember how it went. “one of those fuckers i race with fucking drove me to the side of the road. almost crashed into the river, but i didn’t. the cops manage to arrest only me.”

“aw,” he places an arm around your shoulder and pats your head. “you think they’ll be scared if an f1 driver were to race with them? i gotta make sure you’re protected somehow.”

there’s really just so many things daniel can surprise you with. you don’t know how he managed to surprise you with this too. “you do know we’re like couple of steps away from a police station, right?”

he shrugs. “it’s unfair if only you can be the one to brag that your lover races.”

“i don’t think you can actually brag to anyone that i illegally race, daniel.” he laughs and already is planning how to keep you safe while you enjoy your dangerous little hobby.

GEORGE RUSSELL got the news from a fan. a fan. he can't name a more embarassing moment than someone asking him if he approves of his partner's street-racing. you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to the race because you were with your family. you were not, in fact, with your family.

he arrives at the police station and you're walking back and forth in a cell with some of your buddies. he's red faced as he talks to the police officers and pays for your bail. his heart churns a little when he hears that you're also being fined for destruction of public property. holy shit.

"george—" you try to talk to him but he continues to walk in front of you. a sigh leaves you. "come on, george, i'm really sorry."

he doesn't say anything. however, he does open the door for you to get in. you're not one to turn down the littlest bit of mercy from your boyfriend.

it's unclear to you how you're supposed to fix all of this. you didn't think it was that big of a deal! it's that you made a small mistake, and one of the guys got a little bit too competitive. of course, it was never in the plan to make george find out about this little hobby of yours.

it's at home when he finally talks to you. he asks you, "are you okay?"

"yes," you don't pick a fight with him about how he only asks that now. "i'm okay."

"good," he drops his anger quickly as he embraces you. "why didn't you tell me?"

burying your face in his shoulder, you're hesitating to tell him. "i don't know..."

he calls your name and you give in. "it's just that i wanted to be like you, in a way. but i'm too fucking old for karting now, i doubt anyone would take me in."

gently, he pulls you away to caress your face. he looks at you like you've done no wrong, like an utter angel in his eyes. he tells you, "baby, if you wanted to go racing then we could go racing. hell, maybe i could pay someone to give us a circuit for a while and we can go karting ourselves."

"it's not the same—"

"of course it's not the same," he cuts you off. "because it's gonna be you and me. not you and some random people that are probably out for blood. it's you, who loves me. and me, who loves you. we'll both be safe and i can be there to watch you win."

your heart hurts from how much george loves you. a smile comes to you and he immediately kisses your forehead. you tell him, "you'll never let me win."

he laughs, "yeah, i won't."

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i am alive ~ anyways. here's a funky little thing. i love the idea of street-racing so bad even though i have no knowledge about it other than drive fast recklessly. also ! i'm opening up a prompt list soon for requests so if you have any ideas for prompts (dialogues and tags), feel free to send it over to my inbox or comment ! ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[inkedells]

cowboy!logan teasing his girl when he figures out she likes him sweaty and messy from work...

[god him in this gif has me scratching the walls]

pairing: cowboy!logan x f!reader

wc: 587

Cowboy!Logan coming home to you after a long day of herding cattle.

His face is shining with sweat, his scent deliciously musky. Not far off from how he looks when he’s just orgasmed, you think, despite your best efforts not to let your mind go there. Dark denim stained with mud at the hem, his boots in a similar state. Plaid button-up tucked into a fat belt, the sleeves rolled up his thick, veiny forearms.

Yeah, you’re gonna make sure he fucks you. As soon as possible.

“Missed you, baby,” He says with the softest barely-there smile. He slides off his dirty boots by the entryway, mumbling an apology for the mess he’s causing. “And I’ll clean that up soon as I’m outta the shower.” It’s said with a grin and raised hands, as if he’s expecting you to scold him.

But you’re too busy staring at his arms.

“Something wrong?” He asks, his smile falling as he walks toward you.

“Don’t shower,” You say simply, quietly. You meet his eyes and watch his confusion transform into understanding—No, smug understanding. There’s a lump in your throat now, but you swallow it down quickly and stand up straighter. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He’s smirking, even as he speaks. “‘Cause I’m dirty. And I stink. Don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress.” He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your body in the thin, sheer fabric. Of course, you go red in the face at his words and his scrutinizing eye, and of course, he takes it as his cue to crowd you until you’re backed up against the kitchen counter.

“But…” He starts, placing a calloused hand flat on the expanse of skin just above the swell of your breast. “You,” He pushes his fingers under your strap, “Don’t,” slides it off your shoulder, “Care.” He rushes to give your bare breast a long, firm squeeze, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when he does. But then he pauses his actions to whisper teasingly, "Do you?"

You shake your head immediately, and he starts back up again. He plays with you, slow and methodical and loving, yet perfectly aggressive. Like a man. 

While you watch his hand, hypnotized, Logan is intently observing your face and subconsciously mimicking your expressions. When your eyebrows knit, so do his. When your mouth falls open, so does his. And when you’ve only just begun to lean in for a kiss, he’s leaning in the rest of the way, capturing your mouth with searing hunger as he moves his lips against you expertly.

He’ll carry you into your shared bedroom eventually. Make sweet love to you until the clouds shielding the moon settle into a low fog in preparation for the morning dew. Until you’re just as sweaty as he is, until the only words coming out of your mouth are "I love you," and, "Don’t stop," and, "Faster."

And it’s that last command which consumes him as he kneels between your legs right here, right now, stroking you over your underwear while he fantasizes about fingering you open. He'll take his time with it, do it properly, so he can fuck you as deep and hard as he wants to much later—after your greedy pussy is inevitably tired of the decorum involved with simply making love for hours. You’ll want to fuck, dirty and messy and rough, and he’ll wonder how such a sweet girl could get so drunk on cock. He would bother spitting the question at you between sharp, relentless thrusts, if he didn't already know the answer. Only for you, Logan.

a/n: my requests are open! gimme all ur ideas <3 also reblog to support ur fav authors!

[pinkponyclubbb3]

Casual part 2

summary: y/n and Chris haven’t talked since the incident a couple months ago. They run into each other at a party Chris hates how much y/n is messing around with people who are not him.

warnings: Drinking,Cussing, dry humping, degrading, praise, public (?) sex , spanking

check my bio if u wanna be tagged in future fics

“Yeah, long as my bitches love me!” I sing to the mirror while I apply my blush. A lot has changed in the last couple of months. I realized I liked smoking and drinking.I cut Chris off, and with that, I haven’t talked to Nick or Matt. I still have a lot of love for them, but it’s hard to converse with someone who has the same face as my… ex. I’m not sure what to call him.

I get up and look through my closet. As i’m looking through my dress I find an all familiar looking hoodie. Fresh Love. I stare at it for a couple seconds and sigh. “Casual.” I scoff.

(flashback)

He takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his pajama pants, and gets into bed. He holds me in his arms and kisses my head. I hear him sigh, assuming he closed his eyes to sleep. His arms are wrapped around me, and I can’t help but think about everything that has happened. As I stare into space memories are flooding back. What am I doing? Letting him hold me and kiss me after what he told me earlier. “Chris.” I tap his arm. “Hmm” he whines. “Chris I want to go home.” I say with my eyes watering. Tears threatening to come out if I blink.

“What? Why?” He says in his tired voice. “You really hurt my feelings, Chris.” I’m avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t know i’m a blink away from crying. He sits up and sighs out of frustration. “What do you want from me, y/n?”

“I want you, Chris. How are you going to tell me everything we’ve done meant nothing to you?” He takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to stop himself from whatever was going to come out of his mouth. “I’ll tell Matt to take you home, he’ll pick you up to get your car in the morning.” That’s it? I stand up putting on a random hoodie and sweats. I stare at him waiting for a ‘just kidding’ or ‘i’m joking’ but it never comes. “I hate you.”

(end of flashback)

I ordered my Uber and put on my heels while I waited. I’m wearing a short, tight leopard print dress with knee-high heel boots. I look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look okay. I nod satisfied that everything came out good. I get a notification that my Uber is outside.

“For y/n?” I give him a smile and nod. Fuck he’s fine. I get in the backseat and buckle up. We don’t speak, but I catch him staring at me in the mirror. Sinful thoughts flood my mind. I squeeze my thighs together feeling how soaked i’m getting. Get it together y/n. I think to myself. “You headed to a party?” I nod “Yup.”

I look through my bag and pull out a mini vodka bottle. I twist the top and open my mouth to pour the liquid. He looks at me while biting back a smile. “You know I could get you in trouble for that?” I look at him and see he’s already looking at me through the review mirror. “Yeah? Wanna get me in trouble?” I ask him flirtatiously.

“Mhm. Want to teach you a lesson about drinking in strangers' cars.” I swipe my teeth with my tongue. “Come show me what happens to girls when they break the rules then.” He smirks at me and shakes his head. We’ve arrived at the party and I see cars filling up the parking spaces. He parks and unbuckles his seatbelt. I smile while biting my lip excited for what’s about to happen. He opens his door and joins me in the back.

“Wanna find out what happens to bad girls?” I bring my hand to his hair and start twisting it. “Mhm.” He sits me down on his thigh and grabs both my wrists, holding them behind my back. He smashes his lips on mine, desperate to taste me. He moves my hips, so I grind on his thigh, making me moan and giving his tongue access to my mouth. His jeans are pressing on my clothed clit. He guides my hips to start dry-humping his thigh. He takes the top of my dress and lowers it exposing my tits.

“So perfect.” He tightly grabs my left tit and slaps it. “Mm fuck.” I start grinding faster ready for any sort of release. “You like being slapped around?” I nod unable to give him a verbal answer. My head thrown back, my mouth opened and eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth while looking up at me taking my nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around and biting down. Profanities leaving my mouth. The knot in my stomach starts forming letting me know how close I am. “Keep doing that I’m so close.” He grips my hips keeping me in place and stopping the friction.

“W-what?” He grips my hair, forcing me to look up. “You think bad girls get to cum?” I shake my head no. “Words,y/n,” he says. “No, they don’t get to cum.” He leans closer and starts kissing my neck. “Please let me finish .” He lets go of my hair so I can look at him. I grab his shoulders and start the rhythm again. “Please? I’ll be so good for you. Let me show you how bad I need you.” He starts sucking on my neck, assuming he is leaving hickeys.

I feel his hand grip my tits again. He uses his thumb to play with my nipple. It doesn’t take long for that feeling in my stomach to come back. “Such a good fucking girl getting off on my thigh.” I nod relentlessly getting closer to my orgasm. “Fuck i’m close.” He grips my hips making me go at a faster pace getting to my climax quicker.

I reach my orgasm and can’t help but chant profanities. My legs twitch as I finish feeling a little overstimulated. I let go of his shoulders and lay my head on his shoulder. “Fuck that felt so good.” I can feel his erection. I pull up my dress and get off his lap. He grabs my face and starts kissing me again. I reach into my bag and pull out another bottle. “Here let me get that.” he takes the bottle from me and opens it. “Open wide, princess.” I open my mouth as he pours it all into me.

“Such a good girl. Swallow for me, yeah?” I swallowed tightly, closing my eyes as I felt the drink burning my throat. “Thanks for getting me off. I’d love to continue, but I have a party to go to.” I tap his face and open the door. As I adjust my dress, I look up and meet eyes with the triplets. “Hi, guys!” I say casually. “What were you doing?” you mean who? I laugh at my joke but can’t say it aloud. “What? nothing just got dropped off from my uber.” As I say that the driver exits the back seat. Please don’t say anything I say to myself.

The boys look at me in disbelief. I see jealousy and anger in Chris’s eyes. “That was fun, mama. Maybe next time we’ll finish what we started, " he says, getting into the front seat and driving away. My eyes widen but I can’t help but laugh. “Who was that?” Chris asks angrily. I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not sure I never got his name.” I run to pull Matt and Nick into a hug. “My favorite triplets how are you!” I give them a kiss on the cheek. “We’re good i’ve missed you.” Nick says. Chris pulls me away from them. He signals his brothers to start walking inside.

“Pull your fucking dress down. I can see your thong.” My eyes widened, and I immediately pulled my dress down. “Were you fucking him?” God, I hate how beautiful he is. “And if I was?” I ask, challenging him. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.” He looks so serious. I can’t tell if I’m scared or turned on. “What if I told you he got me off? Would that make you mad?” His jaw is clenched. He lifts my chin so I can’t look anywhere but his face. “Don’t test me, y/n.” I slap his hand away from my face. “Don’t be mad Chris. We were just casual remember?” I walk away from him and go inside.

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Body’s are grinding up against each other. It smells like a mix of weed, sweat, and alcohol. I’m past tipsy at this point. I haven’t talked to anyone all night, but I’m enjoying myself, so that’s all that matters. One of my favorite songs comes on and I leave the bar to go dance. I’d usually be embarrassed but I have too much alcohol in my system to care. I feel someone behind me. I turn around to meet eyes with a stranger. “I’m Dean.” I continue dancing. “Yeah I don’t care let’s just dance.”

he grabs my hips and so i’m basically grinding on him. Our body’s moving in sync as we move to the beat of the music. The lights are flashing. I look around and see everyone enjoying themselves. “Didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.” I roll my eyes. I don’t want to get to know him I just want to dance. “Didn’t throw it.” I find drunk me hilarious. I see Matt dancing with a random girl. He’s smiling while his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. That girl is bent over dancing? Looks more like foreplay. Dean guides his hands all over my body.

I feel eyes on me. I look to my right and see Chris sitting at the bar, watching me like a hawk. I give him a wink and bring my attention back to Dean. I turn around to face him. Our faces are inches apart. He leans in to kiss me. He’s not bad-looking but doesn’t compare to the man in the Uber or … Chris. I hate how much I think about him. I give his tongue access to explore my mouth. I feel him bite my lower lip, and his hand is placed on my lower back. He pushes me closer to him to deepen the kiss.

I back up to go back to dancing. I regret that, I tell myself. This must be what post-nut clarity feels like. I look to my right again and see Chris chug his drink and slam the glass down. He gets up and walks over to me. “She’s taken.” Before I had the chance to protest, he starts dragging me off the dance floor. “What the fuck?” He doesn’t stop until we reach a bathroom. The bathroom has a red light instead of a normal one. He slams the door and locks it.

(A/n: if you can listen to music and read you should listen to ‘Bathroom by ‘Montell Fish’ for this scene)

I'm not sure what’s going to happen next, but a part of me can’t wait to find out. “So you’re just slutting yourself out tonight, huh?” I was taken aback, my eyebrows furrowed. “What I do is none of your business.” I poke his chest with my pointer finger. With a quick movement, he turns me around and bends me over the sink so I’m staring at him and myself in the mirror. He traces my ass with his fingers and smacks hard. “Fuck.”

“Such a bad, bad girl.” he taunts. Too speechless to say anything, I watch him through the mirror. I see him take off his belt while refusing to break eye contact. Once it’s out, he lifts my dress slowly. He folds his belt in his hands and taunts me with it. I hiss when the coldness of the leather makes contact with my ass. He takes his fingers and pulls my underwear to the side. “Spread your legs for me, princess.” I do what he says. He takes the leather in his hands and uses it to touch my wet pussy.

Once he finishes teasing me, he uses all his force to spank me with it. I grip the sink, shutting my eyes from the pain. “Fuck Chris!” I hear him laugh. He doesn’t give me a chance to recover before he hits me again. I throw my head back. A mix of pain and pleasure fills my body. “Does it hurt?” I look at him with tears swelling in my eyes.”mhm” He takes his fingers and inserts them into my folds. “Your body is telling me otherwise.” He turns me around to face him. He kneels down onto his knees. He doesn’t say a word and just flattens his tongue and licks my wet pussy. My eyes roll back and my hands grip harder on the sink

He takes the tip of his tongue to tease my clit. “O-oh my god-” he takes his two fingers and teases my entrance. He starts sucking on my clit while he inserts his fingers. My breath quickens when his fingers start fucking me at a fast pace. “Yes just like that, Chris.” I say in a whisper too overwhelmed by the pleasure. His fingers curl inside of me making me give pornographic moans. Chris's grin widens as he feels me getting closer and closer to the edge. He increases the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of me rapidly while his mouth sucks on my clit The room fills with my loud moans and the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of me.

Chris pulls out his fingers, leaving me panting and desperate. He turns me around to face the mirror, pushing my hips against the sink and spreading my legs apart. He steps back and looks at our reflection, his eyes dark with desire. "Look at yourself," I don’t say anything. Trying to catch my breath. “Look at how ready you are for me..." He runs his hands down my back, grabbing my hips and positioning himself behind me. He lines himself up with my entrance, his eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. “Please Chris I need you so fucking bad.”

Chris grips my hips tightly and slowly pushes into me. His face contorts in pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. He leans over me, his hot breath on my neck. "Eyes on the mirror," he growls, pulling back and thrusting into me again, harder this time. “F-fuck!” I can’t help but close my eyes, too overwhelmed with euphoria. I feel his hand tangle in my hair and pull my head back. “Eyes on the mirror,y/n. Look at us.” His voice low and demanding. I pry my eyes open trying my hardest not to break contact.

Chris grins, watching my reflection as he takes me rough and hard. His thrusts are deep and punishing, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin. His eyes flick down to where we’re joined, watching as he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back into me. “Chris!” I scream out. We’ve had sex before but it’s never been like this. “Tell me how much you hate me,y/n.” I shake my head no refusing to tell him. “Come on you had no problem telling me a couple months ago.” he taunts. “Tell me sweetheart I want to hear it.” He pulls my hair and he thrusts hard into me.

He grinds his hips into me, the movement drawing a low, guttural moan from my throat. "Say that you hate me, y/n." He can see the resistance in my eyes, but also the undeniable heat between my thighs. He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You hate me...say it..." I nod giving in. “I hate you with everything in me, Chris.”

He grins darkly, his hand tightening in my hair as he pistons into me harder. "Louder," he demands. "I want to hear you scream that you hate me while I'm buried inside you.” He bites down on my neck, sucking hard as he continues to pound into me. “I- fucking hate you.” his other hand comes around and starts rubbing my clit. “Atta girl.” I start panting at the contact he’s making with my clit. “Look in the mirror… Look at how much you hate me.”

He watches our reflection his eyes dark with lust. I shut my eyes feeling my orgasm slowly approaching. “Don’t close your eyes.” He demands. “Watch us.” I force my eyes open again. He slams into me one last time, his fingers rubbing furiously against my clit as he buries himself deep inside me. “Chris! I’m cumming!” my body shaking and convulsing around him.

He pulls out of me and forces me on my knees. “Open wide, baby let me feel all of you.” He grips my hair as he guides me to his cock. He pushes himself into my mouth. His length filling me up. My eyes immediately watering as I look up at him. His pace quickens,his thrusts becoming shallower as he’s about to cum. His face contorts in pleasure as he comes undone. His grip in my hair tightens painfully. He watches me struggle to swallow his cum, tears in my eyes.

He pulls out of my mouth, breathing heavily while wiping my chin. His face hardens, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He leans down and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. "Say 'thank you, Chris, for letting me swallow'," he demands coldly. I can feel the wetness between my thighs build up again. “Thank you, Chris” I say quietly. His smirk widens and he nods approvingly. “Such a good girl.”

He helps me up and pulls my dress down. “Sorry for being so rough with you.” sorry? “I need to sleep with more men if it means you’ll fuck me like that.” I say sarcastically. His eyes darken not finding that funny. “Let’s go back to the party.” I fix myself up in the mirror. “Alcohol isn’t good for me.” I say as fix my top.

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A/N: hope you enjoyed part two!!!! the smut is something different from my other posts i hope you liked it!! check my pinned post to find out how to be tagged in future fics!!

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[tgmsunmontue]

You found me - one-shot (complete)

13k Explicit Hangster AU - Soulmates first words are on your skin. Started for the Bingo. Jake is a singer and Bradley is the newly arrived member of his security detail. Tooth-rotting FLUFF and SMUT.

YOU FOUND ME

                Why can you not stay where we fucking tell you to?

                Jake hadn’t ever intended to make music his career. His sister definitely had, and he’d just been dragged along to drive her around, and because he was already there he’d often help out with either singing or playing one of the instruments. They’d both grown up surrounded by music, and now she’s his most fiercely-loyal supporter, but also never lets him forget that he’d never be where he is if it hadn’t been for her. He loves it most of the time, but the touring starts to drag, although meeting fans around the world and getting to travel is amazing. He just gets homesick sometimes.

                Also the fame is double-edged. He’s glad his words are where they are, a small cramped script right in the curve of his inner left thigh right beside his groin. Almost impossible for anyone to see or get a photo of, even when he’s done nude photo shoots. Of course, it had started the rumors that he’s mark-less, which is a rumor he’s okay with being out there. It stops the people trying to match with him at least, but it doesn’t stop the people who simply want to try and be with him because of the fame.

                However his words are pretty damned specific; he’s had a variation of them said to him a number of times over the years, which always makes him give a double take. Always false alarms though. Kind of embarrassing when he thinks about the potential meaning behind them, like he’s a child being scolded for wandering off. Like right now. The concert is over, he’s done the glad-handing with the fans that had the money to burn to buy VIP backstage passes, has had too many photos taken, his cheeks hurt from smiling the fake media smile too much. He’s tired and lonely and he just wants to sleep for days. Three more concerts to go and then he gets to go home.

                The crunch of gravel underfoot has him turning his head and he lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes. Caught again. Not by fans or anyone dangerous, but definitely someone who isn’t pleased to find him out here alone. It’s the new guy. He can’t remember his name, other than it starting with a b, because he’d automatically gone with the alliteration with bodyguard. So B-something. He should really try and pay more attention, but the guy had been brought in late, in the last Australasian stretch of the tour because Javy’s dad had had a heart-attack and had needed to get home ASAP. So this guy had been brought in and the introductions had happened during sound testing a couple of days ago and Jake doesn’t think the guy likes him very much, doesn’t think they’ve exchanged a single word to each other.

                However Jake thinks B-something might feel about him, he’s sure he’s a professional. He certainly looks the part, fucking built, taller than Jake by only an inch, but broader, and fridge-like comes to mind, his pants clearly straining against the thick muscles in his thighs as he stalks toward Jake, clearly angry and he sighs internally, an apology already forming on his lips, because he doesn’t like to make other’s jobs more difficult. He doesn’t intentionally wander off, but sometimes he just really misses the peace and quiet of wide-open spaces.

                “Ugh, yeah, you found me,” Jake mutters, the words slipping out and he’s aware it makes him sound like a petulant spoiled kid but he can work on his image later. Maybe when he’s not surviving on adrenaline and caffeine, dead on his feet. He is ready for this tour to be over.

                “Why can you not stay where we fucking tell you to?”

                “I’m sorry, wait, shit, what did you say?”

                B-something is looking at him in shock, eyes and mouth all wide circles and okay, that makes all the tiredness he’s been feeling turn to fizzing energy in his veins. Holy shit. He just found his soul mate.

                “You… you said my words.”

                “And you said mine. If that wasn’t already obvious.”

                “You really need to not wander off, I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know where you are,” B-something says, his tone softer, gentler and Jake laughs silently; privately thinks his days wandering off are now gone, not with a soul mate to get to know. However he’s going to have to admit he doesn’t remember his name. Ugh. What a way to seem even more like an asshole.

                “I’m sorry, I know we were introduced only a couple of days ago, but I don’t remember your name…”

                “Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Bs… lots of bs, that did stick in my head. The alliteration.”

                “Some of my friends call me Bradbrad.”

                “Well, I’m Jake. Uh. Call me Jake.”

                “Not Mr Seresin?”

                “No!” Jake responds instantly, vehement.

                “So, what do you think we’re working with here?” Bradley asks, and it’s going to take Jake a while to get used to using his name. His mind is offering up potentially ridiculous lines Bradley Bradshaw the bodyguard built of beautiful bricks I want to lick. God he definitely needs some sleep. And proper food. Not necessarily in that order.

                “Huh?”

                “What kind of bond do you think we’re working with?”

                “Oh. Uh,” he swallows roughly, because he’s an out and proud not-straight man, and soulmates generally get a free pass anyway. Except… “Hopefully not platonic,” Jake provides, and the slow smile Bradley gives him makes his skin prickle and he’s suddenly feeling a lot more awake.

                “Okay. Well I guess we’re going to go one a few dates and see where they take us…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, it’s a potential. Not a guarantee right? Only fifty percent chance it’s romantic.”

                “You want to date me?”

                “How else am I going to get to know you?” Jake opens and closes his mouth, because he has a good point, instead just nods his head. “Come on. Let me get you back to the hotel.”

…            …            …

                Bradley hadn’t known what to expect when he’d been asked to urgently take over the security detail for Jake Seresin. Finding his soulmate had not been anywhere near the list of things to expect. The very tired man who is half-walking, half-stumbling as if drunk is somehow meant to complete him in ways he doesn’t know yet, and okay, Bradley’s open to the possibilities. First though, the guy needs sleep. And maybe food.

                He sends a quick message through to the other two, Rueben and Lee, lets them know he’s found him and taking him back to the hotel room. That some room service wouldn’t go amiss, although he fully expects Seresin’s, no, Jake’s PR manager Natasha to be there waiting for them, no doubt ready to rip him a new one. That woman is terrifying. He pushes open the door and sure enough she’s there, pausing in her pacing and she turns to them.

                “Jesus Jake! What were you –”

                “He’s hungry and tired and he won’t go wandering off again. At least not without me.”

                “Well great, that’s another six days. Perfect,” Natasha says, her eyes rolling so hard Bradley’s surprised they stay in her head.

                “It’ll be the last time. Promise…” Jake says, but he’s swaying and Bradley pushes him down into a chair at a table, leaves a hand on his shoulder where he just rubs gently.

                “I’ve heard that before,” Natasha says.

                “I mean it this time Nat,” Jake mumbles and Bradley glances at his. Probably another ten to fifteen before food gets here, and he needs to keep Jake awake enough to get food into him.

                “You think you can stay awake long enough to have a quick shower?” Bradley asks, crouching beside him.

                Natasha is frowning at them and Bradley looks to her, eyebrows raised. He’s going to have to tell everyone else in the team that he and Jake are soulmates, but he also thinks it can maybe wait a couple of days. At least until after he and Jake have had a proper conversation, which necessitates Jake being well-rested and fed. And the sweat from tonight’s show rinsed from his body. He can take care of his most basic needs at least. It’s not what he signed up for when he took on the job to act as bodyguard, but it’s definitely something he’d do for a close friend, and that’s something Jake Seresin will become to him, at a bare minimum.

                Jake is nodding and mumbling under his breath that he can manage a shower, and Bradley holds back the offer to help, or hold him up. He’s not one to rush into things when people aren’t his soulmate, he’s not about to do anything rash with the man who is. He does start the shower and get everything gathered for Jake to change into, tells him he’s leaving the door cracked and that he’s only giving him ten minutes before he sends Natasha in to get him out.

                “That seems a little over and above the job requirements,” Natasha says, expression shrewd and Bradley just shakes his head, refusing to say anything. If necessary he’ll send Rueben in, doesn’t want to encroach on Jake’s space and mind any more than he already is with their soulmate revelation.

                “He really needs a decent night’s sleep and a break.”

                “Well, we have a ten o’clock flight to Wellington tomorrow morning. He has his third to last show there. He’s got three radio segments to do, but they’re short. He can do something touristy and have a break in the afternoon.”

                “He’ll probably need to nap in the afternoon. He’s dead on his feet.”

                “He has the following day and night off, then the last two concerts in Auckland.”

                Bradley is better at hiding his eyeroll than Natasha is, sounds like a whole day off Is a luxury. Screw that. Not much he can do about it now though, he’s not been in charge of this itinerary at all. He might get input in future ones though.

                “Where is he spending his day off?”

                “Well, he originally wanted to go mountain biking and zip lining, but Javy vetoed it.”

                Bradley snorts, because he’s well aware of what Javy thinks of heights. The mountain biking is maybe a little risky while on tour, but he’ll look through it. With Lee and Rueben onboard he’s certain they can manage to figure something out. He hears the shower shut off and glances at his watch again. Eight minutes. There’s a knock and Bradley goes to go and open the door; Rueben there with a bag of items but also a covered tray and he can smell something warm and cheesy and with garlic and his own mouth is watering and he meets Rueben’s eyes.

                “Perks of being the star I guess…” Rueben says, grinning and Bradley gives him a what are you going to do look back, because this is their job right now. His job is to keep Jake safe and secure. It’s not to ensure he has fun on his day-off, but…

                “You’re good with zip-lining and mountain biking, right?”

                Rueben’s eyes light up, and that’s his answer right there.

                “Yeah man! Javy vetoed it…”

                “Javy’s not here anymore. I am. We’ll discuss and make plans tomorrow.”

                “Cool.”

                He takes the bag and tray, snorts in amusement at Rueben’s little salute and waits for the door to click closed and lock to engage before turning back to see Jake standing there, towel wrapped around his hips and he’s glad Jake has already said that he doesn’t think it’s a platonic bond, makes him feel a little less guilty about where his mind is going.

                “I left you clothes to change into,” Bradley states and Jake smirks at him, clearly still tired, expression soft but clearly unapologetic.

                “Did you? I must have missed them.”

                “Go and get dressed Jake.”

                “You spoil all my fun…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes but Jake goes back into the bathroom to get dressed. Natasha is looking thunderous though and Bradley is pretty sure she’s about to metaphorically put his balls in a vice.

                “Do not fuck the talent Bradshaw,” she hisses, stepping close and lowering her voice.

                “I don’t intend to,” Bradley states, just as quietly, keeping an eye on the bathroom door. He’s not lying either. He’s here for work, and yes, Jake is his soul mate, but once the tour is over and Jake is back on American soil his usual security team will take over and Bradley can just… do whatever he wants. Won’t have to listen to Natasha Trace for a start. He and Jake can hopefully get to know each other properly, slowly. As soulmates, not as security detail and the talent to be protected. Not that Bradley’s not going to start treating Jake right from now, but Trace doesn’t need to know that until after he’s spoken with Jake. Knows how he wants to have this play out.

                Jake comes back on of the bathroom again, this time wearing the loose sweatpants and t-shirt Bradley had pulled from his bag, not really knowing if it was what Jake might want or not, but figured he could change into something else easily enough if he was already dressed.

                “It smells good.”

                “Yeah it does. Come on Jake, sit down so you can eat something…” Bradley says, and Jake settles back at the table, looking a little more alert now that he’s had a shower.

                “Mr Seresin,” Trace corrects and Bradley rolls his eyes, although he also makes sure she can’t see him.

                “I told him to call me Jake, Nat. Would be a bit weird otherwise.”

                “He arrived two days ago.”

                “And he’s my soulmate. So you can stop worrying. I’m tired. Not deaf,” he says, and he’s cutting the potato dish and forking it into his mouth. Bradley blinks. Okay then. Telling her now when Jake can barely walk in a straight line is apparently the timing they’re going with.

                “Are… Is he serious? Are you two…?”

                “Yeah. Bit of a surprise when I found him. Wasn’t exactly expecting it.”

                “What are your words?”

                “This isn’t a PR story Nat…”

                “No, of course not. Just… I’m happy for you Jake. Truly.”

                “My words are Ugh, yeah, you found me.”

                “Oh… that… did you not talk to each other when I introduced you to each other?”

                “Nope,” they reply at the same time and Bradley shares a grin with Jake, because he’s glad they didn’t, because otherwise their words would be very different. What they have is unique and there isn’t any room for doubt.

                “So, we’ve found the person who asks you why you can’t do what we ask. And it’s his job to make sure you do. I hope you appreciate the poetry of that Jake.”

                “Yeah yeah, I will. When I’m not about to fall asleep in my food…”

                “Okay. I’ll leave you both to it. I guess what I said earlier doesn’t exactly apply anymore.”

                Bradley shakes his head.

                “He’s tired and hungry and we have our whole lives ahead of us.”

                The smile Trace gives him is soft and Bradley is pretty sure he might be blushing and when he glances over at Jake he sees a similar look on his face, like Bradley is being sweet somehow simply be ensuring Jake’s basic needs are met. It does make him wonder about the kind of people Jake’s been with before if the bar is legitimately that low. Trace leaves, closing the door behind her and when he looks back Jake is definitely struggling to keep his eyes open, and he pulls him to his feet and starts shuffling him gently toward the bed. He pulls the blankets back and Jake pretty much falls into it. He tucks the blankets in around him, effectively making a cocoon around him, but Jake wiggles, arm reaching out and hand making a grabby motion.

                “What? What do you need?”

                “Join me?” Jake asks, but his voice is already slurring with sleep and Bradley can’t believe how fond of him he already feels.

                “You’re dead on your feet. Go to sleep.”

                “Oh. Uh… do you, could you…”

                “Go to sleep Jake. I’m not going anywhere.”

                He dims all the lights and heads back to the living room part of the suite, realizes that he’s probably going to get used to this type of luxury with Jake as his soulmate. That will take some getting used to. He tidies up the dishes and takes it to the door, opens it to find Rueben standing there, waiting. With Jake having told Trace he’s going to tell Rueben.

                “Hey man, you can head back to your room. I’m going to stay with him.”

                The look Rueben gives him is incredulous.

                “What the fuck man? I just lost twenty bucks. Natasha said you were going to do that.”

                “She played you, and had insider knowledge. Turns out Jake Seresin and I are soul mates. I’ve got him for the rest of the night.”

                “Holy shit… that’s cool. And you’ve got him for the rest of your life, tonight is a drop in the bucket.”

                “Yeah, I guess it is. I’m going to try and make sure he gets a fun day off after the show in Wellington. Can you help with that?”

                “Hell yeah. Just because Javy wasn’t keen doesn’t mean I was going to pass it up. I was ditching you and Lee for the day, but I can totally bring everything back together.”

                “Great. Thanks man.”

…            …            …

                He wakes up slowly, which is unusual by itself, usually he has an alarm or Natasha is shaking him awake and telling him he has to get up, while pushing a breakfast smoothie into his hands. None of that is happening this morning, instead he’s firmly wrapped in blankets and there is an arm around him, he can feel now the weight of Bradley’s body beside him, but he’s clearly slept on top of the blankets because he’s a fucking gentleman or something. He wiggles and shifts, wants to see his face and the arm around him loosens.

                “Morning…”

                “Morning.”

                “You stayed.”

                “Said I would,” Bradley says, and his smile is slow, his eyes searching Jake’s face like he’s trying to take in every little detail. “You feel better for the sleep?”

                “Yeah, so much better.”

                “Mmm. Good. Next time maybe just go straight to bed rather than running off hmm?”

                “You going to stick around and make sure?”

                “If that’s what it takes…”

                “Yeah? Just going to travel with me from now on?”

                “Think it’ll make everyone’s lives easier if I do.”

                Jake grins, huffs out a quiet laugh, but he’s not wrong.

…            …            …

                “So, can I know where my words are?” Bradley asks, because he has to admit he’s curious. Jake is his soulmate after all.

                “You want to see them?”

                “I don��t know… you’re looking very eager suddenly. Wait. Are they on your dick?”

                Jake bursts into laughter, his smile wide and free and he’s so fucking gorgeous Bradley can’t help but watch and just soak it in.

                “Close. Not quite though. They’re right on the inside crease of my thigh, against my dick and balls.”

                “I’ll have to save having a look for later then.”

                “Yeah? You don’t want to have a look now?”

                “I’m good with waiting. Always find the payoff is better with a little anticipation.”

                “We’re soulmates, meant to be good anyway.”

                “So we get a double whammy.”

                “Ugh. Fine,” Jake mutters, mouth screwing up into a displeased pout and Bradley wants to kiss it so badly, but…

                “At least let me take you on a date first.”

                “But I don’t have free time until we get home…” Jake says, and he’s definitely whining now and Bradley knew he had a reputation for being a bit of a brat, but he can’t help but find it cute and endearing and yeah, it’s definitely shaping into something that is decidedly not platonic in nature.

                “How about you let me worry about that.”

                “Oh. Really?”

                “Yeah. Really.”

                Then he bullies Jake out of bed and into another shower, flicking a couple of messages to both Natasha and Rueben to let them know Jake is awake and moving. He needs to go and shower and change as well, and everything is back in the room he’s sharing with Rueben. Which Rueben will no doubt suddenly enjoy having to himself seeing as he doesn’t imagine either he nor Jake will want to spend much time apart.

                By the time Jake is out of the shower there is food waiting, Natasha is packing his things and Rueben has turned up with Bradley’s own things. He pushes Jake toward the food and steps toward the bathroom with his bag and sees the realization hit Jake that he’s not even leaving his room to go and have a shower. The relief and joy and yeah, there’s definitely something to be said for making your soulmate look like that.

…            …            …

                For all the fact that he’s at the tail end of a world tour, he’s exhausted and he has a bone-deep ache for the comfort of his own bed it feels weirdly domestic in the hotel room when Bradley comes out of the shower looking all put together in a clean clothes; navy pants and light-blue button down, the staid uniform that every single member of his security detail wear and he doesn’t like the reminder that right now Bradley is effectively one of his employees.

                “Just a few more days…” Bradley says, giving him a quick side-hug and Jake has to bite his lip, because clearly Bradley could tell what he was thinking, and he’s not used to being so easy to read. It’s going to take some getting used to.

                The flight to Wellington is short, but the landing is not something he ever wants to relive. The wind makes the plane tilt wildly from side to side and when Jake looks out the window he can’t even see a runway, which is a little alarming considering he can see the white tips of the waves of the ocean below them. Then he’s being rushed off to do some radio segments and the crew are leaving to set up and Bradley is just close-by, always within touching distance, although his eyes are constantly moving and assessing for threats. Rueben is doing the same, but he’s also on the phone a bit and then checking something with Bradley and he’s watching them through the glass of the studio window, distracted when the radio-host asks the next question.

                It’s why he fucks up.

…            …            …

                Natasha is furious.

                He didn’t ever think he’d have to protect Jake from his own people, but he stands there, arms folded and watches as she rants about controlling the narrative and making sure Jake’s private life remains private, because blurting it out on radio that he’d found his soul mate in New Zealand wasn’t keeping it very private. He doesn’t think Jake has any regrets other than making Natasha’s job more difficult, and maybe his job.

                A popstar doing a tour isn’t newsworthy. However said famous popstar finding their soulmate in some far-flung part of the world is definitely more newsworthy and Natasha’s phone hasn’t stopped ringing. However, for Bradley, New Zealand is considered low-threat, and Jake has three concerts left and no-one bar Natasha, Rueben, Lee and himself know exactly what Jake’s plans are for his time off. Even Jake doesn’t know, which is maybe just as well given his sudden propensity to simply blurt things out.

…            …            …

                Once she’s finished yelling at him she tells him to get some rest and he looks to Bradley helplessly. Lee is slapping Bradley on the arm and following Natasha out of the hotel room.

                “I’m sorry. I wasn’t… I didn’t…”

                “Jake. I don’t mind. You’re the one in the spotlight. You get to decide what you share.”

                “Except I didn’t mean to share it, I was just… watching you and not paying attention to the question and it was something about my favorite part of being here in New Zealand, or the highlight of the tour…”

                “And you were looking at me,” Bradley says, and he’s smirking.

                “Yeah well… you’re nice to look at. Shut up.”

                “Not too shabby yourself.”

                “Don’t’ feel very hot right now. Nap with me?”

                “Yeah. Just let me check in with Rueben, then yeah, nap sounds good.”

…            …            …

                He doesn’t know which version of Jake he likes the most. Soft just-awake Jake with creases on his face from the pillow case, slightly pissy Jake when Bradley won’t do anything more than hold his hand or place a chaste kiss to his cheek or forehead, or right now, watching Jake perform on stage, his energy and showmanship getting the audience completely buzzing and singing along. He puts absolutely everything into his show and it’s no wonder he crashes so abruptly afterwards, coming down from the high. He’s pretty sure he’ll be able to help with that, eventually. Once he’s off Jake’s books as an employee. God, he’s really going to have to rethink his whole career if he means to follow Jake rather than taking security details for different people around the world. He knows what he wants though, and he hasn’t even kissed Jake properly yet, but that is not because he doesn’t want to.

                Jakes goes out for two encores, meets with some of the fans who won a competition and carefully deflects questions about his soulmate. Says he’s protecting their privacy. Then he signs things for nearly an hour; Bradley just stands off to the side and keeps a close eye on everyone. Rueben and Lee are also there because it’s meant to be his night off. He takes the bottle of water Natasha hands him and makes Jake drink it, then hands him a protein bar, raises an eyebrow when Jake pulls a face but he dutifully opens it and crunches down on it while scowling at him. Bradley just smiles and brushes a kiss against his cheek while it’s still busy chewing.

                “Holy shit. I just realized our jobs are like, a hundred times easier now…” Rueben says and Bradley looks up to find him watching Jake and him.

                “Mine too,” Natasha agrees and Bradley smiles, pulls Jake into his arms despite how sweaty he is, hooks his chin over his shoulder.

                “Mmm. Well, we’ve still got a schedule to stick to.”

                “Wait, what? Are we not staying here tonight?”

                “Nope. Sorry. I know it’s fucking awful, but we’re taking a very quick flight and then all day tomorrow, tomorrow night and then a lazy sleep in… all in one place, okay?”

                “One place for two nights?”

                “Well, what’s left of tonight once we get there, and then tomorrow night. Come on.”

                He gets Jake to shower and change into soft comfortable clothes, assures him no one will see him travelling. It’s easy because Jake didn’t even unpack, and Bradley just has him tucked up beside him as they get driven to the airport. The flight between Wellington and Rotorua is only a little over an hour. There are cars waiting for them and Jake is drowsy and easy enough to direct. He’s adorably snuggly and his heart twists with warmth as he runs his fingers through his hair.

…            …            …

                He’s sitting at the table, dressed and ready for the day ahead, reading through further information Ice and Mav have sent him, none of which really impacts his actions when it comes to Jake’s safety, when Jake finally stirs and blinks sleepily at him.

                “Where am I?”

                “How specific do I need to be?” Bradley asks and Jake pulls a face.

                “I preferred yesterday when I woke up and you were still in bed with me.”

                “Well, I did spend the night in bed with you. I just got up early, did a workout, then showered and got dressed…”

                “I missed watching you work out…”

                Bradley laughs, walks over to the bed and settles down beside Jake and takes in the fluffy hair, squinty eyes as he clearly protests being awake.

                “You want to see me get hot and sweaty?”

                “Well, I’d prefer other activities to get your hot and sweaty, but until you get off your high horse… it’s fine by the way. I respect it. But I just… I’m going to go and have a shower.”

                “Okay. I’ll have breakfast and coffee waiting for you.”

                Jake makes no effort to hide his morning erection, straining against his sleeping pants, and if he thinks it’s going to embarrass him he’s sorely mistaken. He just watches and when Jake glances back he just raises an eyebrow and smirks, amused when Jake blushes and then closes the bathroom door with an emphatic thump.

…            …            …

                Jake re-enters the room, showered and looking much more put together and rested, although he’s still wearing the clothes he slept in. He settles in the chair opposite and promptly hooks his ankle around Bradley’s.

                “Okay, so you never answered. Where am I? Where are we?”

                “Rotorua.”

                “Okay. That sounds familiar but I have no idea why. Care to explain?”

                “Well, thought I’d take you on a date.”

                “Yeah? What have you got planned?”

                “Well, I have to say I do feel like I got a playbook and cheated a little, but it’s still happening…”

                Jake waves an impatient hand, clearly wanting him to get to the point.

                “Ziplining. Then an afternoon mountain biking…”

                “Wait. Seriously? Javy said no to that…”

                “I’m not Javy.”

                “Oh my god. I want to kiss you…”

                “After our date.”

                “An all-day date?”

                “Yep. Still have Rueben and Lee with us though. Natasha is in Auckland having a pamper afternoon after she deals with the, uh, aftermath of yesterday.” Jake groans and Bradley laughs. “It’s fine, but there were some fans who had the super-pass and were standing on the stage and the media are convinced that one of them is your soulmate.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah. No one thinks it’s one of your security detail at least, who as far as most of the media knows has been the same for most of the tour. No one new you could possibly be trading first words with.”

                “Oh.”

                “And no press or media today or tomorrow. Two whole days where you can just… not think about it.”

                “Thank you.”

                “Thank Natasha. But I’ll be sure to pass it on… So I’m going to try and make today feel as normal and fun as I can. For all that we’re doing a whole bunch of touristy things.”

                “Yeah, a little touristy but also I’m just dying to do something different,” Jake says, and Bradley suddenly feels a lot more confident about the other things he’s tacked on to the day.

                “Well, it’s not quite an original date idea, seeing as you put it on your planned day off, but I thought that I could make it happen…”

                “Are you serious?”

                “Yep. Told you I wanted to treat you right.”

                The look Jake gives him feels charged with electricity, heavy, a little intense and a challenge all rolled into one. Bradley simply holds his gaze, reminds himself that he has four days of work, then the flight home and then he’s officially off the books. His restraint is being tested though and he really does want to kiss Jake.

                “Well, what are we waiting for?”

                “You to get dressed. For a start.”

…            …            …

                The four of them are fastened into harnesses and he resists the urge to check that they’ve got them all done correctly. Obviously if things go badly it’ll reflect on them, they’re probably being extra careful with Jake there. The safety briefing is quick but thorough, and soon he’s soaring through the treetops. He can hear Rueben whooping up ahead and grins, hears Jake’s shout of joy and then his own stomach swoops as he glides effortlessly from one platform to another. The forest is lush and green, rushing water below them is picturesque. The rush of wind, coupled with the views and the adrenaline it’s pretty exhilarating. He gets to the end and Rueban and Jake are both waiting and then Lee is joining them and he catches the look they share. Getting paid to do this kind of stuff is pretty amazing.

                Jake takes the obligatory photos with the staff, Rueben does the job of asking them to hold off mentioning anything on social media channels for at least twenty-four hours, ideally forty-eight. They happily agree when Jake mentions giving them a shoutout on his account when he gets to Auckland, that he’s currently avoiding social media. It doesn’t stop him taking plenty of photos though, and he notes Rueben and Lee are taking plenty of the two of them and he’ll have to thank them later. After getting them to send him the best ones.

                The café they’re heading to for lunch is apparently famous for their grilled cheese, winning national competitions, and Rueben had already done the research so he follows his lead. Rueben’s also the one driving them and Bradley’s not complaining that he gets to sit in the back of a car and get driven around, all while holding Jake’s hand as he looks through pictures. Fortunately it’s the middle of the week, which means it’s maybe a little quieter. Still people approach and ask for photos when they realize exactly who Jake is. Again they’re asked to hold fire on posting anything to social media but Bradley knows that with every photo taken the chance of their location being made known increases. Jake talks to them about enjoying his day off and he’s definitely a people pleaser, his fans are pretty understanding, wishing him well, although they’re also clearly looking around for who might be with them and also Jake’s soulmate.

                Then they’re on the way to mountain biking and he’s arranged hiring four bikes, Lee and Rueben taking the front. Rueben, with his experience, has arranged lifts back to the top each time, although both he and Lee give him shit for being lazy. It does make for a more pleasurable experience though, navigating their way through a network of trails through a forest. He’s never done mountain biking before, and he’s glad that he and Jake stick to the beginner trails, because even those have tree roots and drops that make him wonder if Rueben and Lee are going to come away with broken limbs. By the time they finish up his quads are burning and he’s regretting working out that morning, not realizing quite how active the day was going to be. At least they can all enjoy the next part.

…            …            …

                He catches Jake looking at him, eyebrow quirked and he just grins. Rueben pulls into a parking area and then hops out, making a call to let them know they’ve arrived. Then someone is there, then they’re all being escorted to a side door and ushered through softly-carpeted hallways and into luxurious bathrooms. Rueben and Lee disappear to their own, he was intent on them getting their own and letting him and Jake just have this together.

                “What are we doing here?”

                “Massage. Hopefully something relaxing. With mud.”

                “Um. What?”

                “I’ve been assured you’ll like it.”

                “Natasha.”

                “Natasha,” Bradley agrees with a grin, and he nods toward the shower cubicle.

                “Not going to shower with me?” Jake asks.

                “Nope… I’ve got my own cubicle.”

                “Well, that ruins some of my fun… wait. Is this like, a couples massage?

                “Yeah.”

                “Oh…”

                He never thought Jake Seresin would get embarrassed, not by being shown a little softness but it seems like he is, little streaks of pink appearing on the crest of his cheeks and Bradley doesn’t resist the urge to reach out and just squeeze his hand.

                “Go on. There should be a fluffy robe and sexy disposable underwear for after your washed off the dirt and sweat from the ride…”

                He’s also packed a change of clothes and some other essentials for later. Once they’re both showered and wrapped in matching robes Bradley presses the call button, an attendant appears to lead them to another room. It’s warm, dimly lit, calming and quiet music set the mood. He and Jake are led to tables side by side, where they can look at each other if they want to, although he notes Jake decides to instead shove his head in the hole and hide his face. That’s okay, Bradley can understand him feeling a little overwhelmed. He didn’t warn him about this part of the date and he wonders if he should maybe mention the next parts.

                Then they’re asked if they’re ready to start, then he’s being covered in warm… mud. It has to be mud. It feels odd, but the person massaging him though is good, the pressure of their hands soothing the aches in his tired muscles and he lets himself relax. He opens his eyes a little while later to find Jake watching him and he smiles softly, gets a slow sleepy smile in return which makes his heart kick in his chest. The sluice of warm water over his legs startles him and then he realizes they’re washing the mud off.

                They’re both rinsed clean and then towel dried, then the robes are there and they’re back in the bathrooms showering to get the last little remnants of mud off. Jake definitely looks more relaxed, and he somehow looks better, and he already looked good.

                “So, where are we going next?”

                “Private hot tub soak in the forest…”

                “Seriously?”

                “Yep. And then dinner and a walk…”

                “Wow. Thank you for this. All of it. Today.”

                “Want to give you every experience that you want,” Bradley says, because it’s the truth but also this wasn’t even difficult or original. He simply took what Jake wanted already and added to it. He thinks he’s going to find Jake surprisingly easy to please.

…            …            …

                “Here, got you some trunks.”

                “Thanks.”

                Then Bradley is turning away and he can see his words across Bradley’s left shoulder blade, writing messy and scrawling and definitely his and he lets out a little laugh, which has Bradley turning back to look at him.

                “What?”

                “Just… saw my words. Feel like I should apologize for my handwriting.”

                The smile Bradley gives him reminds him of the one they’d exchanged when they’d just been looking at each other while getting massages. He’s never felt this relaxed at the end of a tour before, and he knows, hopes, that it’s because Bradley is there. He’s sleeping rather than lying awake, feeling settled and grounded despite being miles from home.

                “Come on, get changed. We can cuddle and talk while sitting in the hot tub…”

                “Oh my god, that sounds amazing…”

                He changes quickly, tries not to focus on the fact that he’s very briefly naked and in the same room as Bradley. Then he’s following him out and it’s quiet, and he can see a few people but there a fair way away and it obvious that care has been taken to make the most of the surrounding forest to provide privacy. They walk down a boardwalk to a tub, and there is steam rising from the surface of the water, and also a nearby stream. Right. Geothermal waters. The steam gives an illusion of even more privacy, almost like it’s a different world and he drops his towel on the bench and steps over the edge of the tub and into the warm water, Bradley following hi,

                “Come here…” Bradley states, and then he finds himself nestled between Bradley’s thighs as his arms and legs wrap around Jake and he hooks his head over Jake’s shoulder and places a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

                “What if I want to cuddle you?”

                “Then we take turns. Just let me hold you for a bit.”

                “Yeah, okay with me,” Jake murmurs, settling relaxing further. He can see a jug of water with glasses off to the side, along with a platter of fruit and hums appreciatively. It feels like it’s been a while since his grilled cheese at lunch, but he doesn’t reach for anything, he has a question he wants to ask. “What did you think, about your words I mean?”

                “I thought I was either going to play a lot of games of hide and seek, or maybe be a member of a search and rescue team. Although, I did think the person would be more appreciative of being found if I was in search and rescue. What about you? Are your words why you have a reputation for trying to escape from your security detail?”

                “Not intentionally,” Jake muses. Thinks about it. “Maybe? I don’t know. I always finish a show and need some time to…”

                “Decompress?”

                “Yeah,” Jake agrees quietly, and he’s grateful that Bradley apparently understand that part of him already. Not the high-energy performer that his public image hangs from, but the quieter edges of him that ache for the comforts of home after. That Bradley might become that home now… it’s equal parts terrifying as it is exciting.

                “Just… can I have a kiss?” Jake asks, turning in the water to face him. He knows Bradley has his line drawn in the invisible sand, and he’s glad in the moment that it’s there, the knowledge that it can’t, or won’t, go any further.

                “Yeah. Of course you can have a kiss now…”

                Bradley has been affectionate and pressed so many kisses to his forehead and cheek, let his hands rest where they fall on Jake’s body when standing side-by-side, or guiding him through crowds. It’s been casual and easy, comforting in how easy Bradley had just offered the new level of affection.

                Bradley’s hand cups Jake’s face and it’s soft, slow and exploratory. He lets the water buoy him and he straddles Bradley’s thighs, loops his arms around his neck and lets himself press into it, firmer but not hard, just wanting to convey that he’s here, with Bradley and not thinking about anything else in the moment other than them together. He can feel Bradley’s hands on his hips beneath the water, a steady presence just holding him and he can’t get his head around feeling so settled and grounded while also feeling like he’s flying.

…            …            …

                Bradley meets up with Rueben and Lee, goes over the last few plans for the rest of the day. They’re both still on the high that they’re both getting paid to effectively have the best day off and if he can have them form part of Jake’s permanent security detail he’s going to do it. Jake comes out of the bathroom and grins at them all, but it’s his hand he reaches for, linking their fingers together and he doesn’t even bother to try hiding his grin.

                “What next? I’m starting to get a little hungry, so I hope you’re going to say food…”

                “Yeah, it’s food. Come on.”

                He lets Rueben and Lee take care of everything, the driving and security checks. His own eyes don’t stop moving, not until they all pile into one gondola and then slowly travel up the hillside, to where the restaurant sits. They’ll have the best view of the scenery and while Rueben and Lee are there, they’re also not sitting at the same table as them, a small private dining area set off just to the side. He has no idea what he eats, not even sure he does considering he doesn’t seem to have let go of Jake’s hand. Then they’re watching the sky turn dark, shots of pink and gold filling the sky over the lake and okay, it’s a pretty fucking perfect first date and it’s not over yet.

                They take the luge down the hill, racing each other and Jake laughs and it is unplanned and Bradley is very fucking grateful that none of them break anything, even if Rueben and Lee both look like they want to do it again if Jake suggests it. He doesn’t give him a chance to, takes Jake’s hand in his again and tugs him towards the car.

                “Come on… one more thing to do.”

                “What?”

                “Nighttime canopy walk through the redwood trees…”

                The look on Jake’s face is gratifying, the squeeze of his hand and grin that clearly indicates he’s more than happy that their date is not yet over. They’re not very far away, but it’s dark by the time they get out of the car. There’s another short safety briefing, and Jake smiles, signs an autograph but then they’re left alone to make their way through the canopy, suspended on purpose built walkways. There are lanterns casting shadows and it feels like the rest of the world has just slipped away from existence, leaving just the two of them.

                They need their hands free for holding on a lot of the time, some of the passages too narrow to consider holding hands anyway, but he stops them at every platform, wraps his arms around Jake and lets himself drop gentle kisses on Jake’s face, his lips, his neck. As the walk progresses the kisses become a bit longer, a little more heated, and he’s glad that while it might feel like they’re alone, there are people waiting for them. He has his resolve and ethics and he’s going to trying his level fucking best to stick to them. Kissing Jake is his compromise.

                The compromise is unfairly tested when they get back to the ground, Jake smiling and grateful, but his fingers gripping Bradley’s hand so hard it’s almost painful as they thank the operators for letting them book the entire evening. Then he’s being pulled along a little path, the light down here even less than it had been up in the canopy. Then he’s being pushed up against one of the trees and Jake is kissing him fiercely, hard and bruising, breath gasping out of him and he’s pressing his groin against Bradley’s thigh and grinding –

                “Jesus Jake…” Bradley groans, letting himself just enjoy it for a moment, he’ll stop. Soon.

                “God, can we… please… I… fuck. Sorry…”

                “Just… kind of like the idea of our first time being in your bed. Or my bed.”

                Jake groans, but it’s not one of pleasure, more of frustration and Bradley forces himself to stop, to just rest his forehead against Jake’s shoulder and breathe, and Jake mirrors the posture, his forehead on Bradley’s shoulder.

                “Oh my god, you’re a romantic.”

                “Yeah. Little bit.”

                “Ugh. Why me…”

                “You deserve to be romanced… also I don’t want us to have to hurry or have to be somewhere. I’ve waited my whole life for this, what’s a couple more days?”

                “You can’t be sweet and look so fucking hot. My brain can’t cope…”

                “You want me to apologize?”

                “No. Never. Just… give me a minute.”

                “Of course.”

…            …            …

                “Oh god, what is that smell?”

                “Sulfur. Active volcanic zone remember?”

                “And the whole town smells like this?”

                “Apparently you get used to it. We’ve been on the outskirts of the town mostly, so it’s… not as intense.”

                “Our first date, I’ll remember it every time I get a whiff of sulfur or rotten eggs… Great.”

                “Hopefully other things make you remember it too. Now come on, we have a flight to Auckland pretty early tomorrow.”

                “How early is early?”

                “Nine.”

                “Oh… that’s actually humane.”

                “It’s only a forty-five minute flight, so yeah, no early morning wake up.”

                Like the previous two nights they fall asleep together.

…            …            …

                The next three days and final two concerts whip past in a blur; apart from sleeping with Jake tucked carefully in his arms at night he’s the epitome of a professional, although both Rueben and Lee keep smirking at him. He subtly gives them the finger when he catches them, but he’s counting down the hours to hand-over now. Jake has had multiple interviews, fielded endless questions about his soul bond which he’s deflected by simply saying that his soul mate deserves their privacy. There has been no hint of gender or nationality, and Bradley is pretty sure Jake is treating it like a challenge now, to keep it a secret after letting it slip in the first place. He doesn’t mind either way, but does appreciate not being under the same scrutiny as Jake himself.

                Then they’re finally on their final flight home, they’ve spent a lot of time conversing, mostly through messages on their phones, exchanging dirtier and dirtier information and it’s been good, having such a serious conversation almost silently. If their phones ever get hacked then they’ll be in trouble but they’ve managed to get through some pretty meaningful and important discussions with minimal awkwardness, which has been an unintended benefit. Although he’s well aware it’s once again crossing over the now incredibly blurred line in the sand regarding his professionalism. However he’s pretty sure Jake isn’t going to allow time for any type of actual conversation before they end up having sex, so again this is something he’s prepared to compromise on.

                “You two are weird… Tour has finally finished. We’re on our way home. You finally have some privacy and you’re both sitting there, not even touching, staring intently at your phones.”

                “We’re communicating plenty,” Jake says darkly, shifting in his seat and Bradley grins, looks at the ceiling of the plane to avoid looking at Jake. He’d just shared that he really likes eating guys out, but that some guys don’t like his moustache because it makes all the sensitive skin just that little bit more sensitive. He’s pretty sure Jake is sporting a semi in his sweats, hiding it with a blanket draped over and he glances to him. Sure enough, Jake is glaring at him and Bradley raises an eyebrow, knows Jake can’t do anything about it right now.

                “Bathroom,” Jake spits out, and then he’s gone toward the back of the plane.

                Bradley feels smug until he receives the photo, Jake’s hand around his cock and he bites back a groan.

                Yeah, he guesses he deserved that.

…            …            …

                “Fucking finally… come on.”

                “You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

                “I’ve waited fucking long enough.”

                “Come on then, shower first… get clean hmm?”

                “No. Take too long. Just… something else first?”

                “You trying to give orders now?" Bradley teases, thrusting against him hard enough to almost knock him off his feet and Jake makes grabby hands, his fingers curling in the fabric of Bradley’s shirt and holding tight as they kiss and grind against each other.

                “Yes, I am if you don't want me to come in my fucking pants," Jake gasps and Bradley makes a considering look, because the idea of it, the accompanying visual is definitely something that turns him on. Stepping back, gentler and more careful than before, he slips a couple of fingers into the waistband of Jake’s sweats and pushes them down, leaving the underwear for now, because he’s going to see his words on Jake soon, up close and very personal.

                "Tempting. Another time," he promises, and then he drops to his knees and the way Jake’s eyes go darker is gratifying.

…            …            …

                Jake has to squeeze the base of his cock through the fabric of his underwear to keep from losing it right there. God, this is going to be over alarmingly quickly but it’s okay, he reminds himself, Bradley won’t care or judge and it’s going to be one of many times together, but he can’t help the small part of him that wants it to be perfect. God, maybe rutting against the thick expanse of Bradley’s thigh might have been perfect, seeing him on his knees right now definitely is, but maybe anything would be perfect right now and he needs to stop worrying about any of it and all of it. But he does want his hands on him and he holds a hand out, makes Bradley stand up and then leads him to his bedroom.

                “You did say you wanted to have a bed…”

                “I say a lot of things…”

                He watches as Bradley kicks his pants off. It's not the first time Jake's seen him naked, but it’s the first time he’s allowed to look. To touch. He's gorgeous all over, thick and strong in a way that makes him look bigger than he really is. When he reaches for the waistband of his boxers, Jake does the same, kicks his underwear off and then Bradley is there, fully naked, touching him everywhere, pressing their bodies together. Their cocks are bobbing around ridiculously but then Bradley’s hand is there, just catching and holding them both, more to guide than anything else and Jake groans.

                “Bed, come on. Want you on me…”

                It’s something he’d mentioned in their silent text exchange, that he likes feeling blanketed and pinned down, held and grounded. Bradley is walking him backwards toward his own bed and he lets himself fall back and then shuffles up, his eyes not leaving Bradley’s. Then he lets his legs fall open, runs a finger along the crease of his thigh and Bradley’s eyes track the movement.

                “Oh…” Bradley murmurs under his breath. Then he’s licking over the words and Jake almost jackknifes back up at the sudden ticklish sensation. “Mmm… stay where I tell you to huh?”

                “Asshole.”

                “Yep. Proud of it too.”

                Then Bradley shifts and moves Jake, so he can staddle Jake’s thighs and his hands are free to roam and touch everywhere; suddenly Jake can do the touching he so badly wanted to do and he grips Bradley’s thighs, and, God, Jake feels like he’s waited forever for this. Then Bradley shifts again and he’s close enough that Jake can get his hand on his cock, although Bradley is leaning down to kiss him. He thumbs the thick vein under the head of Bradley's cock, smiles when he feels Bradley's mouth open against his neck, feels smug. Tightening his grip and stroking in earnest, Jake angles his head down to watch his hand working between them. Bradley has a nice cock, thick and shiny pink where the head pokes through Jake's fist. Jake knows he's an asshole for feeling relieved about it. It's not like he would want Bradley any less if he had a tiny dick or anything, but it's nice not to have to worry about it.

                "Thought about this," Jake tells him. He licks his palm messily before reaching down to stroke him again, grip tight and slick with saliva, likes the fact that all he can see and feel is Bradley.

                It's been a while since Jake last did this for someone, and even then it was mostly just a step to get to the good stuff. Touching Bradley is different; Jake wants to know what he likes. He strokes faster and slower, tighter and looser, shorter and with a twist of his wrist at the end just to see what reactions he can get. Playing with Bradley's foreskin makes him hiss through his teeth, so Jake quickly gives up on that in favor of the long, tight strokes that seem to illicit the best response. He is rewarded with shifting hips and low, throaty groans.

                "God, Jake," Bradley murmurs drunkenly, tipping his head forward to mouth at Jake's clavicle.

                The way Bradley gasps out his name makes Jake's heart feel too big for his chest. Clamping his eyes shot Jake works his hand steadily, focusses on the little hitching sounds that Bradley makes on each upstroke. Everything is slick with spit and precum now, Jake's own cock leaking between them steadily. He's so hard it hurts, but it's easy enough to ignore when he feels Bradley's muscles twitch and shudder above him. Then Bradley shifts again, grabbing for Jake’s wrists, pinning him to the mattress. Wiggling a little, Jake's heart pounds when Bradley doesn't budge. Jake stares up at him, eyes wide.

                "I'm so into this. So into you," he tells Bradley in amazement.

                Bradley laughs, eyes crinkling fondly. He's lovely, he's so lovely, it drives Jake completely crazy.

                "You’re much too coherent," Bradley states, pushing Jake's wrists up above his head and stretching him out beneath him with a heated gaze. All the fantasies in the world have nothing on the way Bradley looks perched above him, eyes dark as he transfers both of Jake's wrists into one hand and runs the other down his chest. He touches him everywhere but where he wants, dragging a palm down Jake's throat, over his pecs and stomach then back up. Jake pushes his heels into the mattress as thick fingers rub against his left nipple, sending a shiver of electricity to his crotch.

                "Bradley," he gasps. "I don't need... I don't need much. Please."

                "Mmm," Bradley agrees, dropping his head to suck the abused nipple into his mouth. Squirming against his hold, Jake whines weakly. It's too much.

                He wants more. Needs more.

                "You're so easy for me," Bradley murmurs wonderingly, stubble scratching against sensitive skin as he talks. It's been long enough since Jake fucked a guy that he can't remember if stubble-burn always turned him on or if it's a Bradley-specific thing, the moustache is softer than he thought it would be though.

                "Yeah. Just for you," Jake breathes, because it's pretty obvious what buttons to push with Bradley. As he suspected would happen the illusion of control breaks, and Bradley shudders, pushing up to kiss him. Sucking messily at Bradley's tongue, Jake wants to pull his legs up to wrap around his hips, wants to be able to chase more friction against his body. His cock feels heavy and painfully hard between his legs, and Bradley is still hovering above him, infuriatingly out of reach.

                "Please, come on," Jake insists between kisses. "I need you. Come on, Bradley."

                Bradley makes a wounded noise into his mouth, hand fumbling as it slides between their bodies to finally wrap around Jake's cock. It's embarrassing how close he is already. Little choking sounds escape his mouth with every shift of Bradley's hand over the swollen head of his cock, the sensation almost too much. Thrusting messily into the circle of Bradley's fist, Jake's too far gone to care how desperate he might look.

                He wants to drag this out, wants Bradley touching him forever, but he's been ready to go off since Bradley kissed him three days ago. The hot, tight slide of Bradley's hand over him now is too much. His balls tighten and his entire body is jerking like his entire body is crying out for touch despite having it nearly everywhere. Bradley releases his wrists suddenly, collapsing forward onto his forearm and jerking Jake hard and fast.

                "I've got you, I've got you," he murmurs over and over into Jake's neck. The familiar rumble of his voice tips Jake over the edge, muscles seizing. Pleasure crashes into him as he jerks and spills, hot and messy all over Bradley's hand and his own stomach. Bradley whispers nonsense as he wrings him out, yeah baby, that's it, so fucking gorgeous, so good. Jake whines weakly as he spasms through the aftershocks, too blissed-out to care how dumb he might sound or look.

                He slumps and goes boneless, Bradley kissing messily along his neck and jaw. Still panting, Jake strokes clumsily up and down his back, trying to regain his wits. Bradley's cock is pressing insistently against his hip, so Jake slides his hands down to grab the flesh of his ass, pulling him forward. Moaning gratefully, Bradley thrusts through the mess Jake made of his own stomach, cock head smearing wetness up his abs.

                "Yeah," Jake breathes, encourages. He feels sluggish and come-stupid, but he wants to make Bradley feel good. He can’t wait to find all the ways  to make Bradley feel good, once he has a functioning brain again and he’s regained his hand-eye coordination.

                Turning his head, he nudges Bradley's mouth up for a kiss, simultaneously digging his nails into his ass. Bradley's hips stutter then thrust hard against Jake's belly, hand sliding down to grip his hip. Even half out of his mind, he's bossy, angling Jake's hips how he wants them and rutting against him. Jake leans back, reveling in how wrecked Bradley looks as he jerks harder and harder against him, mouth wet and open and eyes lidded.

                "Come on. Come on, baby," Jake whispers, rolling his hips with each thrust. He's so oversensitive it almost hurts, but he doesn't care. Bradley looks close. Licking his lips, Jake kisses him on the corner of his slack mouth. "I want it. I want it, Bradley. Come for me. Want everyone to know I'm yours. Come on."

                It's mostly nonsensical, but it seems to do the trick. Bradley scrambles for leverage, shoves Jake up the bed with two hard thrusts before going rigid and coming in long, groaning bursts over his chest and stomach. Jake gentles him through it, stroking his hair and shoulders and murmuring encouragingly as he shudders, trying to memorize the way Bradley's face looks all screwed-up and euphoric. Jake did that, made him look that way, and he knows he doesn’t need to commit it to memory because they’ll be doing this again, but he still wants to remember it. Bradley collapses to the side with an arm slung over Jake's stomach. Honestly, Jake would have kind of liked being squashed, but he appreciates that Bradley is as much of a gentleman about this as he is about everything else. It's part of his charm.

                "You good?" he asks.

                Bradley grunts in response, obviously still out of it, and Jake smiles. It's disgusting, really, how gone he is on him. Shifting closer, Jake turns his head towards Bradley and closes his eyes, happy to just lie there and enjoy the moment. It's almost too good to take in all at once and he suspects that’s partially due to the exhaustion catching up with him, feels himself drift in and out of consciousness. He feels the mattress shift and Bradley's arm slide carefully off his waist. There is a split second when Jake thinks maybe he's just rolling over, but then Bradley's weight is gone and he's alone in bed. He's not sure how much time passes before something warm and wet swipes over his stomach, startling him back into consciousness and he grumbles quietly about almost being asleep.

                "It’s this or a shower…" Bradley whispers, and he’s definitely looking smug when Jake blinks up at him. He's leaning over the bed, washcloth in hand, still completely naked, hair a complete disaster.

                "Shower… " Jake mumbles, because he’s pretty sure it won’t be alone. Not anymore, not when Bradley is around.

                “You think you can stand?” Bradley asks, and Jake immediately feels a surge of needing to prove that he can. Although…

                “You can make sure I don’t fall over.”

                And he gets Bradley’s arms around him, pulling him up which is what he was angling for.

…            …            …

                Bradley knows Jake has a stubborn streak, and a level of self-discipline that keeps him going despite how exhausted he might get. But he doesn’t have to draw on those reserves right now, he’d hoped Jake would fall asleep and they could revisit everything in the morning and yet here he is in the shower, a naked half-asleep Jake Seresin insisting he’s good for another round. Bradley would like to differ, but that seems to make Jake do nothing but dig his heels in so he’s going along with it for now.

                It’s nice, quietly soft, having just come he’s not really angling for anything more, just lets himself enjoy the warm and slippery feel of Jake against him, his tongue and lips and little hums of happy pleasure. Then he feels Jake’s hand grab his ass, fingers brushing over his hole and he grins into the curve of Jake’s shoulder, mirrors the exact same thing and is surprised when Jake pushes back against his fingers.

                “It’s not a race Jake. We don’t have to do everything in one night…”

                Jake whines against his neck, hips jerking.

                “I want to though…”

                “We have time.”

                He does try to make them they take their time, part of him wonders if they should maybe be waiting a bit longer, Jake’s been on tour for six months, was dead on his feet less than a week ago and was almost asleep no less than fifteen minutes ago. As much as he looks and acts like he’s bounced back Bradley is fairly certain that nothing but a couple of weeks rest is going to truly bring him back to his equilibrium. Despite all that Jake is going through the motions of washing his hair and body, and Bradley is doing his best to ensure he stays upright and doesn’t fall asleep and brain himself.

                “I’m just… don’t be too long… want you to fuck me,” Jake says and Bradley can’t help but raise a disbelieving eyebrow as Jake steps out of the shower and starts drying himself off.

                “I’ll be right there…” Bradley says, amused beyond belief because he’s not even hard, glad that Jake has such faith in his refractory period. He takes his time, pays attention to getting clean himself and lets himself think about the fact that there will definitely be more sex with Jake in the very near future. He dries himself off and walks back into the bedroom and has to bite back a laugh, because Jake has passed out cold, but also clearly had some serious intent. He’s gotten the lube out, his fingers are shiny with it, as is his ass crack and Bradley picks up the tube and places it on the bedside table safely out of the way, uses his damp towel to wipe Jake’s fingers and presses a soft kiss to his bicep.

                “Sleep well Jake.”

…            …            …

                He wakes up the next morning and he doesn’t think Jake has moved, still completely sacked out but still the most gorgeous sight Bradley has ever woken up to. And he’s certain he’s going to think that every morning he wakes up with Jake beside him. As he watches Jake shifts a little, just a little grind of his hips and Bradley bites his lip, an idea forming as he reaches for the lube and a couple of condoms. Then he slides a finger into himself, is generous with the lube although a little impatient with the actual stretching, his cock getting harder the more he thinks about Jake fucking him. He’d been very thorough last night, not really expecting Jake to be able to stay awake but still not cutting any corners. It does mean that he doesn’t have to take his time this morning, and he knows from his experience the last few mornings that Jake is going to wake fairly soon and he’d like to wake him up. No alarm needed.

                Wiping his fingers on the same towel he used on Jake’s fingers last night, he drops it, then leans forward to kiss Jake's throat, then the underside of his jaw before moving up to run his nose against the side of Jake's stubbly cheek. Bradley's lips graze the corner of Jake's mouth as he smiles again. Up close his dimples are deeper and his eyelashes are darker, and he’s so gorgeous and he’s all Bradley’s. Jake makes little sleepy grunts, his body stretching out to press against Bradley as he wakes and then he’s kissing him properly, shifting to press his hard cock against Bradley’s own.

                “Morning.”

                “Is it morning?”

                “Sure is…” Bradley says, rolling his hips to provide friction for them both, feels Jake shift in response to add to it. Maybe they could just rut against each other like this. Jake is groaning, muttering something which he can’t make sense of, too quiet.

                “How do you like it? Want to fuck me?” Bradley asks, which isn’t actually what he wanted to ask, but he’s getting a little distracted by how Jake’s body feels and he’s not actually fussy but he had an idea and he’d like to at least try it…

                “Yes yes yes.”

                “Or can I fuck you?”

                “I don’t fucking care right now… Just… did I fall asleep last night?”

                “Yep. While I was finishing up in the shower.”

                “God, I am so sorry. That is not sexy.”

                “Oh, it was okay… came in to find you passed out cold and had started fingering yourself without even waiting for me to watch…”

                “Oh my god, it gets worse…”

                “Going to let me open you up? Pretty sure you won’t fall asleep this time.”

                Jake doesn’t answer with words, just shifts and stretches, opens the drawer and then looks confused and Bradley holds out the lube.

                “Looking for this?”

                Jake glares at him, but it’s got no heat and Bradley feels his mouth go dry as Jake shifts again, legs spreading and shoving a pillow under his hips, challenge broadcasted in every movement and Bradley feels smug, thinking about his idea with what he knows Jake has said he likes in bed and what he knows about his own body. He was going to let Jake in on his idea, but he decides not to, his little sulking attitude should not be this hot.

                Jake’s ass crack is tacky with the lube he used the night before and Bradley ignores the sensation, just coats his finger and goes to town, his eyes not leaving Jake’s face, watching for discomfit although the expression on Jake’s face is almost belligerent. Bradley can’t help but lean forward and kiss him, catches each of Jake’s little gasps with his own mouth and works him open slowly and steadily.

                “I’m good, come on…”

                He takes him at his word, presses a kiss to each of Jake’s knees, wipes his hands and then reaches for the condom. Lets Jake take it from him and open it up, rolls it down his cock and then falls back again and shoves his ass in Bradley’s direction.

                “Subtle.”

                “Come on…” Jake snaps and then Bradley’s pushing inside, one long slow push and Jake moans, low and deep and Bradley shakes a little.

                “Fuck,” Bradley says against the side of Jake’s neck, breath humid and hot. He keeps his hips carefully still, waiting for Jake to give him the go-ahead.

                “Yeah, yeah… come on.”

                Bradley tightens his hand on Jake’s hip and then he’s pulling out, letting Jake feel every inch of him, before thrusting back in. He takes it nice and slow, knows he has time. Jake is shifting, trying to get closer, maybe wanting it harder. Regardless, he’s not using any words and Bradley just lets his hips roll in and out, picking up the pace in response to Jake’s breathing picking up speed. His own breath is coming in pants and he can feel his orgasm building, bends down to kiss Jake.

                “I’m not, I… I said…”

                “Shh… It’s okay. I got you. Think we’re made for each other…”

                “You feel good.”

                “Mmm. So do you,” Bradley says, his hips snapping now, thinks about Jake admitting via a message sent not even two days ago that he hardly ever comes when he’s getting fucked. It’s fine, Bradley’s not about to try and prove himself, but it does mean he can just chase his own orgasm and come as quickly as possible. Then he can focus on Jake and his pleasure. He jerks as he comes, his teeth pressing into Jake’s neck and god he hopes that doesn’t mark, that would be a little embarrassing. He gives himself twenty seconds, his thrusts slowing and he finally pulls out all the way, kisses away the expression on Jake’s face as he reaches for another condom and the lube.

                “Wait, what… what are you doing?” Jake asks, and his eyes are glazed and intense and Bradley feels a little shaky but he can do this, rolls the condom down Jake’s cock, strokes him a couple of times with lube before he shifts up so he’s straddling Jake’s stomach.

                “Told you I like being fucked after I’ve come.”

                “Oh Jesus fucking Christ…” Jake breathes as Bradley sinks down on his cock, his thighs trembling but then Jake’s hips are raising up to meet him and he lets gravity take over, groan into the shivery-shake of over stimulation that he likes. Sometimes he can come again, wonders if this’ll be one of those times.

                “Fucking hell… you…” Jake starts and Bradley has no idea what his internal thought process is right now but he’s looking up at Bradley like he’s everything and he feels pretty satisfied with himself.

                “Yeah. Fuck,” Bradley says, rotating his hips in a tight circle

                “Bradley…”

                “Come on. Want you to fuck me now…”

                “What?”

                “Want you to fucking rail me. Just… come on.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “Jake. Trust me. I’m more than sure.”

                Despite Bradley’s hasty encouragement and slight disgruntlement that Jake won’t just take his word for it, part of him is glad that Jake cares enough, although he’ll soon learn that when Bradley tells him he’s ready to be fucked, he really does mean it. Then Jake is pushing him off, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he moves Bradley around to where he wants him and Bradley realizes that those messages went both ways. Jake is remembering his own admissions about favorite position and he groans, lets his shoulders sink down to bear his weight, his ass in the air and Jake’s hands on his cheeks, pulling them apart and then he’s pressing his cock in and yeah, yeah, it’s going to be one of those times.

                Jake sets a brutal pace and Bradley reassess his consideration that Jake maybe didn’t take him at his word. His entire body feels electrified, nerves twanging and he manages to get a hand on himself, hears Jake’s startled intake of breath, his hips somehow picking up the pace and Bradley grunts, pushes back as he works his hand on his cock. It never really went soft, is feeling overstimulated but he knows from experience that pushing through that will make the second orgasm even better, will have an even sharper edge of relief when he comes.

                Jake knows this, his fingers digging into his hips as he fucks into him, their combined pants the only noises in the room and then he feels Jake’s hands slip a little, their bodies getting slicker with sweat and god it’s so good. This is likely it for them, not just here in Jake’s bed, but beds all over the world, but finding and making a home with each other. Jake had been right when he’d accused him of being a romantic, because he’ll follow Jake anywhere. Right now that’s leading him to a second orgasm within thirty minutes and he shudders and shakes, eyes clenched shut against the burst of white pain-pleasure from working his cock so roughly. Jake makes an unintelligible sound and Bradley is certain he’s also coming but he’s too lost in the haze of his own pleasure again and fuck, his idea to make it all about Jake completely backfired.

                He slumps to the side, gasps at the sudden loss of Jake’s cock inside him, his body feeling even more jittery as he comes down. Then Jake is there, pressing kisses over his back and shoulders, using the towel to wipe up the worst of the mess and he really doesn’t care much about anything right now, just wants to be held and feel the warmth of Jake close to him; which he’s definitely getting, being tugged over to the unused and drier half of the bed, encouraged to lie on top of Jake like a human blanket. He can do that.

                “So glad you found me…” Jake says, his voice quiet.

                “So am I.”

…            …            …

     Jake Seresin married his long-term boyfriend, Bradley Bradshaw, this weekend, in an exclusive and highly secretive event. No word on whether Seresin’s soulmate was there or not, but we can probably assume that it is a platonic bond if he is marrying someone else. Bradshaw was very briefly a member of Seresin’s security detail before they -

                Kaysie looks at the words and starts digging, going back through Instagram accounts and the social medias of different places. There’s plenty of photos of Seresin and Bradshaw, their day in Rotorua incredibly well documented considering it was ostensibly a day-off for Jake rather than a PR exercise. The day after he’d unintentionally declared to the world that he’d found his soulmate, but a lot of the business posts and other posts are a day or two after the actual scheduled day off. Which was a few days after Bradley Bradshaw had joined the security detail. Her eyes narrow. That’s a hell of a coincidence, but there’s zero actual proof either way.

                She looks at the photos again, sees the joy and soft smiles and hopes that whether they’re soulmates or not, that they’re happy together and remain that way.

THE END

[gothushi]

ultimatum

pairing: simon x f!reader

warning: angst, physical alteration, mention of blood, creampie

note: went in a bit of a different direction for this request but i’m quite happy with the angst of it. this is kinda tame though, i wanna do this idea again but more… nasty… dirty…

word count: 4.2k

———————♡

He’d just helped Brendan Brady clean up a dead body, and now he has to deal with you showing up to his motel room? How did you even find him? The dim lamp on the side table illuminates his frustrated face.

“What the fuck am I gonna do if Brendan sees you?”

“I’m tired of you letting this consume you, Simon, I want you to come home.”

“Come home? Abandon my entire case?” His brows furrow, obviously hating the idea. He’s done all this so far, why stop now?

“This is going too far, Simon. Is this what you want? Is all this seriously going to make you happy in the end?” You retort, stood by the bed. The ugly red walls hurt your eyes, a musty smell coming from the room.

Simon huffs out a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands up in a ‘what do you want me to do’ motion.

“This is what I want, Y/N. It’s what I have to do. I’m so close to bringing him down once and for all, you have to see that! If I stop now, all my work so far will be for nothing.”

He takes a few steps closer to you, his brows turning up slightly as his voice drops. “Don’t you want me to finish it?”

“Don’t do that.” You snap, pointing accusingly at him. “You know I was all for you doing this. Don’t you dare try to make me feel bad here. I wanted you to finish this, but that was before I knew how absolutely ruined of a person it would make you.”

A scowl forms its way onto his face. He scoffs, turning his head from your gaze. “Ruined.” he repeats, shaking his head. “You think I’m ruined?”

His blues shoot back to you, taking another step closer. His anger and defense is starting to build, something he isn’t used to projecting onto you. “I’m still the same bloke. I just-.. I just have to go further than I originally thought I would. That’s all.”

“Look at yourself, Simon.. really.” You mutter, “You said you’d be home months ago. This is turning you into-.. something you’re not. Someone I don’t recognize.”

Simon has to hold back a groan when you bring up his previous promise, his expression hardening. He shakes his head, he really doesn’t want to hear any of this.

“You don’t get it, love. You don’t know what I have to do. And you never will.”

“And I’m scared I never will because you won’t end up coming home.” You bite back, your throat tightening with welling up emotion, staring up at him.

His face falters, seeing just how upset you’re coming off. He can’t show vulnerability though, not now. Not when he’s built this up for so long.

“I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” He comes over, standing directly in front of you. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

It’s your turn for your brows to furrow now, “Trust you? Don’t pull that- not when I do trust you with my entire life. But I miss the man I’m in love with. I don’t see him here anymore.”

Simon’s quiet for a moment, looking down at you with a mixture of frustration and pain. He runs a hand over his face, jaw clenching.

“I can’t afford to be that man right now. Can’t you just let me finish this?”

“No,” you whisper, staring up at him with a shake of your head, “I-.. I can’t. I can’t just watch you turn into this-.. this. Just to lock him up? He’s ruining you, Simon.”

Those cold blues narrow at your refusal. He grits his teeth, all that built up anger he’s been collecting for months bubbling up.

“If that’s what it takes to get him in handcuffs, then so be it, I don’t care!” His hands rake through his hair, irritated. “You’re not making this any easier, y’know. Coming here and trying to stop me.”

“I didn’t come here just to try and stop you.” Your tone dips lower, almost remorseful. “I came here to give you a choice.”

“Me, or Brendan.”

Simon is silent for a heartbeat before his expression morphs into incredulous anger. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?” He scoffs a laugh.

“Yes! I am. Me. Or him. Because by the time you’re done with him-... I won’t still be here with open arms.” You swallow, avoiding looking directly at his face for now.

His thoughts are racing, processing what you just said. If you weren’t still home when he finally came back.. thoughts of an empty house plague his mind. The thought of returning to find your things gone, no trace of you-

That anger in his veins ignites ten fold, stepping right into your personal space. “You’re telling me I have to choose?”

“Maybe I should have found you months ago.” You sniff, looking up at him. “Maybe then you wouldn’t be so angry-.. the man I know wouldn’t even hesitate to side with me.”

“I can’t just choose you.”

His voice is nearly strained. It’s not what he wants to say, but he needs to finish this, he needs to bring Brendan down. Right?

You feel tears brim your eyes, afraid that was the answer you’d receive. Looking down at your hands, you take a deep breath before returning your gaze to his face. “Okay. Guess I’ve got my answer then.”

It nearly pains him, to watch you tear up like that, as if he wants nothing more than to pull you closer against him and comfort you.

But the anger is still there.

“Stop it with the tears. Don’t. Why are you putting me in this position, making me choose?”

“Why are you acting like it’s a difficult choice?” You bark back, voice wavering. You may be devastated, beyond torn up, but you’re also angry.

A scoff escapes Simon.

“You have no idea what it’s like!” He snaps, exasperated. “What I’ve had to do, what I have to deal with just to get closer to him-”

“I may not know what it’s like but I can see the way it’s tearing you apart! I can’t just sit back and watch you be torn apart by him!” You don’t back up physically, nor mentally. You won’t back down.

That stubborn and resilient side is what he fell in love with, and now all it does is piss him off. “You just don’t understand! You think I’m so weak, that I can’t handle this, that I’m broken or something- I’m fine!”

That yelling only fuels your emotions, your upset. Before you know it, your palm is stinging with the contact against his cheek in a hard slap.

The sound ricochets off the glaring walls, his head snapped to the side. Slowly, he turns to look at you, a ruddy red blooming over his skin. He looks absolutely pissed, brows hardened, eyes cold, and he doesn’t hesitate for a single moment to shove you against the wall, pinning you there with a hand on your shoulder and his forearm across your chest.

The action pulls a gasp from you, arms pressing on his to try and shove him off. You’re not weak by any means, but overall strength, Simon has you beat. His eyes lock with yours, staring down at you.

“I don’t care how upset you are. You don’t hit me, ever again. Understood?”

You groan, “Well if this isn’t the most emotion you’ve shown me in months.” You grumble, trying to shove at him.

An annoyed scoff is pulled from him, breath hinted with cigarette smoke. “You wanted me to react, is that it?”

“Yes! Dammit!” You cry back, eyes bleary with tears. “I want anything other than you having some sick obsession with Brendan!”

“It’s not an obsession, Y/N. He’s nearly destroyed my life, and I need to be the one to end him.”

“What’s left of your life is sat in the hospital!” You snap, throat straining with the yell. “Not here!”

The mention of his poor, coma-ridden little brother immediately causes his anger to boil over. His strength urges you against the wall more. “Don’t bring Cam into this!”

Your head knocks into the wall, groaning out a pained noise. It all happens quickly, before you even realize what you’re doing. Your hand reaches for the dinky lamp on the table beside you both, slamming it against the side of his head. The shitty porcelain shatters with a high noise, and then your hands are pushing on his chest, and an altercation breaks out within the blink of an eye.

With a growling noise, Simon grabs your arms, his fingers wrapping around them like a vice. In an instant, he has you bent over the shitty bed, wrists pinned behind your back. A grunt sounds from you. Unfortunately for him, he had spent months teaching you self defense moves. He insisted on it actually, for your own safety.

You kick a leg up between his thighs, using the way he almost doubles over to then kick on his stomach, sending him away from you. A pained noise comes from his throat, not giving himself the chance to recover before he lunges for you again. Using his own momentum to your advantage, you side step and shove him in the direction of the wall. Your hands are grabbing onto each other, hitting, as his weight crushes the small table he lands against. The wood splinters and you both tumble to the floor, trying to pin his arms.

Even with the wind being knocked out of him, he’s still got the advantage. Despite a fist to the face, his own retaliates, hitting somewhere on you, before flipping you over, holding you down with his weight.

Thudding to the floor with a whine, you feel wood pressing into your leg, your hands pinned. You don’t fight anymore, already tired with your heart pounding in your ears. Blood leaks from your lip, and there’s a stinging on your right palm, probably from the lamp.

You look up at Simon with lidded, wet eyes.

He’s staring down at you, breathing heavy with anger, frustration, and helplessness. His blues dart to your lip, then back to your eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Why’d you come here?”

You swallow, panting out a breath as you shift under him, wincing.

“Because I love you.”

He falters. He truly falters finally at those words. It’s not the first time you’ve said them, but this feels different. Like a last effort.

His grasp on your arms lessens, just slightly.

Sniffling, hot tears roll down your temples and into your hairline.

“Simon, I love you, dammit.”

The words break through his anger, his frustration, his hurt. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares. Seeing those tears, the blood on your lip. Seeing the damage he caused.

And he can’t find the words to say.

His expression crumbles, and suddenly Simon looks so weary, so tired. Like there’s so much weighing down on him, weighing down his heart. Because there is.

The air is thick, nearly making it difficult to breathe as you stare up at him. Your eyes dart to his lips, then back up to those blues.

Without a second thought, he releases your arms, letting them go to instead cradle your face. In a matter of a single breath, his lips are crashing against yours, in a hard and desperate kiss.

Your free hands tangle into his dusty brown hair, probably smearing blood on the strands. Melting into the kiss, you match the pure need his actions invoke as your tongues meet.

He lets out a groan, the taste of your blood hitting his tongue, and God he’s not supposed to be enjoying it. He tilts your head with his hand, gripping on your jaw to aid in exploring your mouth, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

A whimper escapes you, panting against his lips for a desperate fill of air. Your hands, albeit trembling slightly, find the zipper of his coat and tug it down. He aids your efforts, sitting up just enough to pull his coat off, tossing it aside somewhere. Diving back down, he continues to kiss you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

After a moment, Simon pulls back enough to rip your shirt over your head, letting it join his coat, leaving you in just your bra and jeans.

Shuddering at the cold hardwood beneath your sore back, your hands roam his now bare arms, squeezing his muscles and reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt. He now mirrors you, naked on the top half as he leans back down. Instead of kissing you again, his lips find your jaw, then your neck. He presses open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there, trailing to your collarbone, before nipping and sucking on that spot.

Your head tosses back, gasping, nearly wheezing for air as you scramble for the buckle on his belt. Your hands are shaking too much to get it right away, instead feeling too weak to even grab at it properly.

Simon notices, turns his kisses more gentle. You were always his strong one, always the one who supported him. Seeing you like this does something to him, it makes something primal snap inside him. He reaches down for you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it above your head with one hand, using his other one to undo his belt and button.

You interlock your fingers with his, feeling the sting of the cut on your palm. Glancing down with a slight whine, you watch him undo his belt, cheeks flaring with heat in response. Once his jeans are fully undone, your free hand reaches to pull him in for another kiss.

He groans, tongue lapping over yours with a desperate need. His other hand twists and undoes the button on your jeans, yanking the zipper down.

His actions cause a whimper to sound in your throat, hips shifting, canting up towards his hand as you gasp against his lips. “Bed- please-”

He’s not one to deny you that request, not now. He lets go of your hand, blood smeared on his own palm now. That same hand dips under your back, and the other hooks beneath your legs as he stands with you. His lips barely leave yours, not even as he gently lays you down, covering your body with his own. A moan is pulled from you, looping your arms around him in a hug as he cages you against the sheets. Those dusty strands fall around your face, so you reach to smooth them back.

The sight of you under him, the feeling of your body against his, it’s like an addiction that he can’t get enough of, he’s been missing this, and he craves more.

His hands move down your body, brushing along the cup of your bra, shifting his knees wider apart to grind against you.

You choke on a groan as his hips meet yours, the swell of his cock pressing against your cunt, rutting up against him. Leaving his hair, your hands dip behind your now arched back to undo the clasp of your bra, hastily pulling the garment off and tossing it aside.

Those blues dart down to your tits, a big hand coming to grope over them as his lips travel along your neck, back down to the marks he left near your collarbones. The actions make you toss your head back, eyes falling shut, hands grasping at his broad shoulders. They wander wherever you can reach until you decide to squirm and grab the waistband of your jeans, trying to push them down.

Simon pauses his efforts on sucking another hickey on the swell of your breast, instead sitting upright. Hands grab onto your ankles one at a time, tugging your sneakers off, letting them thud to the hardwood before he pulls your jeans and panties off in one go. He takes a moment to just admire you, the blood on your chin, your hand, the softness of your skin, the heaving of your chest. The sight of you, splayed out on the white sheets, cheeks hot, messy hair, it’s like a sight taken from his dirtiest and most yearning dreams.

He takes too long for your liking, even though his strong gaze is enough to make more slick leak from your now exposed cunt. You sit up some, flipping the two of you over so his back meets the bed and you crawl ontop of him. Leaning down, you reciprocate his earlier actions, latching your reddened lips to his neck.

Simon is grasped by a fierce need to touch, to taste, to have. His head tilts back, giving you better access to his neck, letting out a groan at the way your teeth scrape on his skin. You nip and lick, traveling down until you’re kissing over his chest, his abs. Finding his jeans, you mimic his actions from before and tug them down with his boxers, only struggling for a moment to get his boots off which earns a huffed chuckle from him.

No words are shared as you clamber back up his body, settling over his cock to rut down with a whine against his pulse point.

A strangled groan works its way from his chest, hands finding your sides as his knees part. You’re so slick, warm and soft ontop of him, grinding down onto his cock with a desperate need.

“Simon-” You breathe out, something pleading, as your hips roll and your tongue explores more of his neck, up his jaw over a faded bruise he must have got from Brendan.

Simon whines at the sound of his name. He can hardly do anything but tighten his fingers on your sides, pressing into your skin as he cants his hips up into you, the head of his cock pushing between your folds. He runs his hands up along your back. Feeling the skin to skin contact has him groaning in a mixture of need and relief, he hasn’t had this in so long, and he hasn’t realized how badly he’s been craving it.

Nosing at his cheek, you moan loudly against the flushed skin as you spear yourself on his cock. The stretch burns, but that’s what you want, to feel him, the effect he has on you. Your trembling hands find his chest, fingertips pressing into him for support, breath catching in your throat.

“Simon.”

His hands grab onto your hips, trying to ground himself through the pleasure, through the need that’s starting to consume him with the way your pussy grips onto him like a vice. He lets out a whiny, wanton moan. “Fuck- sweetheart..”

You immediately get to work rolling your hips, riding him and burrowing into his neck with hitched breathing. Your hands find the sheets beneath him, thin fabric bunched between your fingers.

Simon tosses his head back, arching up slightly as his strength aids you in grinding back and forth on his dick. He drives his hips up into you, matching your rhythm with panted gasps.

“That’s it- fuck-”

The huskiness of his voice makes your veins flood with more arousal, gasping wildly as you find a steady pace. Your heartbeat can be heard in your ears, muffling out everything other than the slick sounds of your cunt and your whiny moans.

Simon can’t hold back anymore, that broken little whine you let out has him flipping the two of you over again without pulling out. He hides in your neck, whimpering out a moan as he starts to fuck into you.

You yelp, a gasped noise as your arms hug him again. Heated flesh on heated flesh, you feel your sore back get pushed into the bed with every thrust. “Simon!”

With his hands, he pins your own up above your head again, but there’s no anger, no frustration in it, not this time. He feels your fingers interlace as you hold onto his hands for dear life. You have trouble even catching your breath, all of it fucked out of you with his rapid pace. You hook your thighs on his hips, writhing beneath him.

“Simon-!” It comes out as a squealed moan, whiny.

His lips return to yours, muffling your moans. He chest presses flush to your tits, urgently, trying to get as physically close as possible. Simon’s whimpering, like he’s drowning and you’re the one thing keeping him afloat, like he’s been starving for years and you’re the only thing he needs to survive.

A lewd, slick smack sounds for your cunt, arousal leaking down your skin and staining the sheets below your ass. It almost hurts, but you’d rather feel this than the pain you’ve felt for months without him.

All the tension, the cravings, it’s built up over months and you-.. you just need him. You feel emotion tighten your throat. His navel grinds into your clit with every thrust in, whining against your shoulder like he’s on the verge of tears, like he’s finally letting out the pain and loneliness that’s built up over the past months.

Tears are spilling from your eyes before you even know it, arching with a sob. “I love you- Simon-”

That coil is twisting tighter and tighter-

His own eyes grow wet as his hips speed up, rabbiting his cock into you with ferocious want, and the words are spilling out of his mouth suddenly.

“I love you- ah! I love you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry- God, I’m so sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you-”

The coil snaps, right into a million pieces as your orgasm crashes over you. You weep, face hiding against his neck as you writhe under his weight. Your heart is in your throat, lungs crying for air as your cunt tightens on his cock. His hips press flush to yours, balls smacking against your ass as he grinds in deep with a stuttered sob. A whiny groan of a plea, a curse, and then he’s spilling into you.

Simon’s weight drops down onto you, both of you wheezing for air, sniffling, his hips jerking with aftershocks. He turns his head, pressing wet, tender kisses on your cheek.

He feels weak, worn out, but in a way that’s entirely different from what he’s used to these days. He pulls out, flopping down beside you as you swallow the drool in your mouth, interlaced fingers resting on your stomach. Your now free hand finds the top of his head, carding through his hair. He’s practically boneless against the bed, a deep, blissful numbness taking over his entire body. Groaning softly, he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around you, pulling you against his chest as he lays back.

Tossing a leg over his lap, you blindly pull the duvet up over your bodies, snuggling into his side with a sniffle. Chaste kisses are laid at the base of his neck. He gives you a comforting squeeze, turning to press a kiss at your hairline.

The two of you lay like that in the darkness, the only light coming from the too white bathroom. Your finger draws lines along his collarbone, sniffling every now and then before you speak.

“I’m sorry I came here.. I just-.. want you home.”

When no words come from him after a breath, you continue. “I just thought-.. maybe if I gave you a choice, it’d work.”

A sigh escapes him, not an annoyed one, but.. a tired one. His hand drags up and down your back, squeezing you firmly to his chest, like he’s desperate for as much contact as possible. He lays another kiss to your head, before burying his face into your hair and inhaling deeply.

Simon’s voice is slightly hoarse when he speaks. “Okay.”

Your brows furrow, lifting your head to look at him. “What?”

He can’t help but give a watery chuckle, sniffing. “I said okay,” he says, his voice low. “I’ll come home.”

“You-..” You sit up on one elbow, the other hand flat on his chest. “You mean it?”

He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. His other hand reaches up to tuck some hair behind your ear, his brows relaxed and gentle, a resolve in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah,” he nods once more. “I’ll come home with you.”

You stare for a moment, as if you don’t believe him. Then, you lean up and capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It pulls a groan from him, his cock twitching weakly, arms hugging you tightly to his chest. He kisses hungrily, like he wants to convey in his actions how much he’s missed you. He’ll need a lot more time for that though.

The injuries of your fight are a dull pain compared to the warm joy in your chest as you pull back with lidded eyes. “Can we leave.. right now?”

He stares back for a few moments, before whispering. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “right now.”

Getting dressed is a silent task, stepping over the bits of broken table and ceramic. Your clammy skin is chilled by the night air, a harsh breeze blowing past as Simon tugs on his biking globes, helmet tucked under his arm.

The purring of his bikes engine is the sweetest sound you’ve heard in months.

———————♡

[caprisun-wizard]

they shut down the fucking highway with all of us chuckle fucks on it i hate texas so goddamn much

i have been sitting in this exact spot for 15 fucking minutes with not a one car moving an inch killing and stabbing and killing ect.

[hannahhasafact]

I feel like I’ve been absent from the online realm for awhile so here are some updates:

New job been good. In a baffling turn of events, being paid well really helps your emotional state.

Been running around like crazy, def not treating my body right (I keep staying up way too late because I never have enough time in the evenings to get everything done). I fear a crash is soon.

Starting the apartment search! Everyone around me is saying I should move sooner than later, but I’d like to build up some PTO before I do so I can have an extra day to move. Also, I have time (I’ll HAVE to move out before January but I *should* be month to month). Hoping to move late fall.

I feel like I’ve been putting art on the back burner lately which really sucks but honestly? I feel like I haven’t even had good time to do art. I’m still participating in art fight but I’ve only finished two things and this current drawing is taking forever.

Started rewatching House, which was fun but then there was an episode that gave me the ick so I stopped. Kind of bummed though, I was having a great time until that moment

My sister is going through some things and while I get why she’s reacting the way she is the way she’s been reactive to everything I say or do has been exhausting. Also worrying about her has also increased the exhaustion. And she always wants to do things and I’m like “god I just want to rest but I also worry if I don’t do things with her it’s going to make her mental health worse” So yeah, having a real catch 22 sitch rn

So yeah. I feel like I always sound really negative when I type this kind of thing out but honestly I’ve been pretty good lately. But holy fuck do I need a nap.

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[binders-and-beanies]

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[facetsofthecloset]

Tbh my life would be pretty perfect right now if my current part time janitoring job paid. Like. A livable wage. Genuinely love doing it, the hours are perfect, I like my coworkers (and don’t have to interact with them much which might contribute to that lol), it leaves me so much time and energy afterward to enjoy my day and live my life—

Except I’m still scraping the bottom of my savings to pay the Existing Fees. Not quite as fast, which is nice, definitely, but like. What if I wasn’t in the red and had this job I think is important and enjoy but also doesn’t consume 110% of my whole life. What then, huh? I might have a good time? I might actually have a chance of kicking my constant SI at some point? Can’t have that can we? Misery is the currency that runs the world isn’t it? Can’t have people having a good time. We might be better off as a society then and that’s not allowed obviously

[mellomadness]

sometimes I wonder if I should take a gender studies class just so I can bitch every day about how an imaginary boyfriend is often seen as a requirement for a woman to feel safe enough to have fun at a club, or the idea that an imaginary person with a fake “claim” over me has more influence over predatory men than my own voice saying “No, I’m not interested, get lost”

[courtingchaos]

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[verdemoth]

mm goin through the horrors. the horrors are bad i can’t recommend the horrors.