#they’ve done so much and traveled around the world…

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

@ krys: 28, 40!

28. if you travel, what was your least favorite place to travel through?

While I made plenty of friends, both people and pokémon, at the point in my life traveling throughout Galar, I was just exhausted and disillusioned with this whole “saving the world” business, especially doing so multiple times. You’d think leaving for Paldea to be a teacher’s assistant would be something quiet and easy, and yet… well, I guess I never seem to get a break, do I?

40. what kind of pokémon (can be but doesn't have to be type!) are your favorite? why do you like them so much?

Ohhhh, I just can’t choose! I love all the Pokémon I’ve caught and befriended over the years! If I had to choose, I’d say my very best friend, Aurora! She was my first Pokémon, and has been with me almost all my journey! Leaving her behind in Johto when I went to Hoenn, and getting sent back in time to Hisui, leaving her was incredibly hard… I’m so thankful I get to be with her again!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

grapefruit and tacos | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“oh look my grapefruit, daddies home! and very early i might add.” waddling as you rubbed soothing circles over your growing belly. spencer met you halfway in the living room, not even bothering to straighten out his shoes and hang his satchel.

“how are my favorite people?” spencer’s big palms cupped around your chubby cheeks. pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose then up to your forehead and finally down to your awaiting lips. you sighed from ease, not realizing how much you were missing him today.

spencer pulled away first before giving one more brief peck. “missing you,” answering his earlier question. his hands traveled down to your stomach which has grown in the past two months. “hi bub, are you treating mommy nice?” his warm thumbs rubbed at the skin beside your bellybutton, your baby will kick sporadically, a lot of times when spencer’s voice is within distance.

“they’ve been good. been craving a lot of strawberries lately, but i’m not complaining.” lifting your left hand to drag on the side of his head, tucking his growing hair behind his ear. “why home earlier? not complaining, but i haven’t done much housekeeping. mostly sleeping.”

spencer turned to kiss your wrist, “finished my paperwork and hotch said i could leave earlier. he understands the struggles of a new pregnancy.” he kneeled to the grow and pressed three kisses onto you stretched skin, three i love yous.

“now why don’t you sit down and i’ll order us takeout. what are you in the mood for?” spencer’s hands holding your shoulders and steering you in the direction of the suede brown couch. you were waddling like a penguin, “uh maybe some tacos. what do you say my grapefruit? tacos?” trying to see if they kick for an answer. you felt a same thump at the tip of your thumb, you looked over your shoulder at spencer while smiling, “tacos please.”

“tacos for my loves. i’ll get some chips and guacamole as well.” making sure you were comfortable before looking for his stack of takeout menus hidden in a kitchen drawer. your eyes just watched his every move, how his lips moved as he recalled the last time he used them. he used the landline, yes spencer still had a landline in his home, and called your usual taco spot just a block away.

within thirty minutes the two of were side by side on the couch with reruns of old doctor who, the wibbly wobbly sound affects a comforting white noise. you closed your eyes and hummed while chewing your food, even swaying your body and head. opening your eyes as you took a drink, you looked to your left to see spencer smiling at you, his food barely touched.

“what?” taking another bite as you waited for spencer to say something. you bet you were the picture of a squirrel or chipmunk, cheeks puffed and mouth pouted.

“i love you and i like seeing you this happy.” sweet and syrupy. you felt your eyes start to water as you took a swallow and set your food down. “oh don’t say that,” you whined, “you know my hormones are at eleven.” wiping away a few stragglers from your warm face.

spencer couldn’t help but to chuckle as he took over the job of tear wiper. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. just- just can’t believe this is my life.” voice getting a bit distant, “i have an amazing girlfriend and a baby on the way… still can’t believe you choose me over millions of other guys.”

the waterworks started again, “i’d choose you time and time again. there’s no one in the world like you and i’m glad i snatched the rare gem.” taking spencer’s sculpted face into your hands and starting an assault of messy kisses causing him to squirm and laugh.

“our baby is gonna be so loved.”

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[goosecastle41]

Idk just the imagery of Kremy using Gideon for warmth

Like yeah okay we’ve all thought of this cause duh alligator man and fire man go good together blah blah

But the imagery of Kremy slinking out of his tent on a cold night out in the woods. He and Gideon have been traveling together for a good while now; started just as the weather was wearing off from winter, the warmth coming back into the world. They’ve been traveling together for so long the weathers turning bitter.

Their fire had long since been extinguished and the wind whips around their makeshift campsite. Even despite the trees, the cold air rushes through like waves, chilling Kremy’s already cold blood to ice. No matter how deeply he burrows into his tent, swathed in his blankets, he can’t seem to retain any of his heat.

I just I magine him pulling his thickest blanket tighter around himself as the wind beats against his shivering body, looking towards the second tent in the small clearing. Debating with himself; “Would he even be okay with this?” “It’s just for warmth.. He’s a god damn walkin’ heater, it only makes sense…” “But he didn’t sign up for THIS-“

Another wash of icy wind sweeps through, making Kremy flinch and pull the blanket just the smallest bit closer. He concludes as he walks to Gideons tent that, Gideon in fact DID sign up for this when they created their contract. Gideon is Kremy’s bodyguard, and in return Kremy feeds Gideon and gives him a percentage of whatever cons he helps Kremy pull off. Kremy can’t feed and pay him if he freezes to death in his tent overnight.

Imagine Kremy creeping towards the tent, seeing a soft glow emanating from inside. He can see from a crack in the tent flap the embers in Gideons hair and beard. Even in his sleep Gideon burns hot. Opening the tent flap is like opening the door to a stove; hot air rushing out at him due to the colder air outside. The warmth blankets Kremy and he can’t even begin to think about stopping the sigh that leaves him.

I imagine Gideon as a light sleeper. He never slept well while he was held on the train; hell he couldn’t even sleep laying down without his arms being hung in the air thanks to the chains attached to the car walls.. But he could and did sleep on the train. The constant noise and rattle of the cars, the sound of the fire he constantly stoked, the voices and laughter of those awful hobgoblins, the trains blaring whistle.. it was all his lullaby for years. Despite how horrible those years on the train had been, the first night he tried to sleep off of it, he laid awake in bed until sunrise.

Gideon couldn’t hear a thing over the sounds of the train. There really wasn’t much else to hear expect for the sounds stated above. There wasn’t much else to worry about. But outside of the train and it’s constant noise… there was so much more. Gideon knew what to expect from the train.

The sigh wakes Gideon from his sleep. His eyes pop open, immediately alert as he quickly scans around his tent. It takes nothing more than a second for Gideon to spot Kremy and relax the tension that flooded into his shoulders.

“Krem? Ever’thin’ ‘lright?” He’d ask, his voice thick with sleep as he moves to sit up in his bedroll.

Kremy would hesitate to open his mouth a moment, having forgotten to actually come up with what to say to Gideon. He could just be upfront and explain that he’s cold… But making up some long winded excuse that doesn’t involve looking weak willed has always been Kremy’s go to.

When he does actually open his mouth to start on the second option, another blast of cold air hits and makes Kremy shiver hard, eyes squinting against the torrent of sharp winds. He ducks deeper into his blanket cocoon, anything he could have said blown away with the wind.

Gideon watches this and immediately gets the picture here. Gideon can be.. a dense man. He’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer ya know. But he cares for Kremy. Kremy’s done so much for him over the time they’ve been together.. He’s given Gideon some kind of purpose. He’s given Gideon a sense of belonging. He’s given Gideon a constant companion… He gave Gideon that little comb, the first thing anyone has ever given to him of their free will.

The least Gideon can give back is some warmth.

“Geez, man, get in here and close that behind ya, would ya? Lettin’ all the heat out.” Gideon would say, moving to lay back down again while shuffling to the side to allow Kremy into the warm spot that had been beneath Gideon.

Kremy blinks once, twice.. Unsure. A smaller gust beats at his back, forcing Kremy into the heat of Gideons tent. He quickly secures the tent flaps closed before he practically dives into the warmth Gideon has offered.

Kremy curls up on the warm patch of tent ground Gideon had just been on moments before while Gideon is radiating heat to Kremy’s back that he can feel even through his blanket burrito. Kremy closes his eyes, more than content with the way these events have gone.

That is until he feels Gideons hand on the blanket. Kremy’s eyes pop open again as he hears Gideon speak,

“Share. You’ll get warmer faster and stay warm.”

He feels Gideon pull one side of the blanket out from under him, moving to pull it over himself before he shuffles back closer to his original spot. He’s practically pressed against Kremy’s back, hardly an inch separating them. Kremy stiffens up like a board, waiting with almost bated breath to see what comes next… But Gideon just settles behind Kremy, not touching him but just a hairsbreadth away from it…

“Can’t have you freezin’ on me now…” Kremy hears Gideon mutter behind him.

“Yeah… who would feed ya if I did?”

[yellowdribble]

Thinking about micro/macro omorashi scenerios~

I’ve seen a couple people touch on the subject, but in general I think micro/macro omorashi is kind of an untouched goldmine

Obviously there’s so much potential for a micro character to get desperate in a world that’s too big for them

(Someone may have done this one- I don’t remember- but sharing anyway) A fairy or other small micro getting captured in a jar by a macro character and getting increasingly desperate while in their clear glass confinement that offers absolutely no privacy. also imagine the macro being kinda mean and shaking the jar on purpose to torture the micro eventually making them wet

Maybe a micro character that got stuck in a macro world unexpectedly- and this guy is the type to never pee outside or any unusual places. He will ONLY pee in a toilet thank you very much. So he gets taken in by a macro character and when the need arises, he attempts to use the ginormous toilet that’s in the macro house. Unfortunately he falls in and almost drowns. So now he’s too terrified to use the toilet, but too stubborn to explore other options of relieving himself. So the next time he needs to pee, he just holds it. obviously he cant hold it forever though.

There could also be the simple fear wetting- a micro encounters a macro and is absolutely terrified at seeing such a huge monstrous being! So scared that maybe at first they don’t notice that warm patch growing in their pants

A friendly macro who carries a micro in their pocket, but one day the micro is super desperate, but too shy to let the macro know. So micro is just bouncing around in this giants pocket, feeling every giant footstep and gripping their crotch for dear life. Eventually they can’t take it any more. They start to leak, and then those leaks turn to spurts and eventually their bladder just gives in and empties. The macro is confused as to why their pocket with their tiny friend is starting to get warm and wet.

A macro finds a micro character, and omg they’re so cute!! The micro is just like a little doll! You can put them in cute little doll clothes and have a tea party, and this doll actually will drink the tea and make conversation back. When the tea party is over, the macro can just put the micro in their doll house. After all everything is just the right size, right?

Unfortunately all that very real tea makes its way to the micros very real bladder, and when they run to the dollhouse bathroom desperate to go- they find that when they open the lid to the toilet- there’s no place to actually pee in! There’s not even a hole under the lid, it’s one of those cheap plastic toy furniture items that just has a sticker to give the impression of something being there. Now where are they supposed to pee?

The micro tries to hold it until their macro friend comes back, but will they make it in time?

Will the macro return to a wiggling living doll who’s squirming around doing their best not to make a mess of their pretty clothes or the pretty dollhouse

Or will they come back to a micro who’s already wet with tears streaming down their face

Micros are always the obvious choice as an omo victim, but I was also thinking…what if we reverse it?

Anyone who’s read Gulliver’s Travels is familiar with the scene where Gulliver puts out a fire with his pee

What if we had a macro who’s gotta pee, but there’s no fire to put out. Instead, if they did pee- it would actually cause damage to the town of micro people they’ve found. (You don’t wanna flood the streets and drown the townsfolk with a massive golden tsunami)

So while they’re visiting their tiny friends they just gotta hold it- and being the only giant it’s kinda hard to hide your potty dance from prying eyes

[moonshynecybin]

i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:

“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”

“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.

It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.

“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”

Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.

“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.” 

Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.

He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.

“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”

“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.

“Semantics.” Another poke.

Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory. 

“You were cheating! And you still lost!” 

“But you don’t have any proof of that.”

And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”

Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.

“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”

Marc shakes his head.

“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.

He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.

Nothing’s felt— he’s busy. 

It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.

But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–

He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.

It’s— 

He's heard that laugh before. 

They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left. 

Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.

And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.

Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.

Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”

Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine. 

He's had a lot of practice.

Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.

He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.

And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.

He knows that.

But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.

Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.

He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard. 

“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.

He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.

Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.

Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.

Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.

Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.

“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.

“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”

“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.

So why is he asking now.

Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”

It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.

It could also be a lie.

“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.

“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”

Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”

The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?

“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.

“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.

Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.

He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.

“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.

But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.

Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.

He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.

“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”

He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.

Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.

There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.

“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”

Marc blinks.

“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”

Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.

“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.

“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him. 

Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”

Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.

But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.

He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him. 

He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.

“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”

Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.

Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.

“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”

Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.

“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.” 

Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.

Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”

“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”

“Once is enough!”

“Apparently.” Marc hits back. 

And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.

Once is enough. Apparently.

Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.

“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.

Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi. 

And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.

Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.

They haven’t even touched.

Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.

He smiles.

Maybe he is doing something wrong.

Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.

The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Busy (Hannibal Lecter)

Description: Y/N is needy but Hannibal is busy

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,100k

She huffed and puffed as she waited for Hannibal to get done with paperwork. He was taking too long and she was getting needy. It was clear that he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. “I won’t be done for some time, love. Think you can wait?” He asked her but in reality it wasn’t even him asking, it was more of him telling her that she had to wait. What was taking him so long with paperwork? Between her legs was achy and has been since before he started. She knew that she couldn’t wait any longer for him to be done. She thought about touching herself but was worried that Hannibal would be done before she would and he would punish her. He hated when she took matters into her own hands. So she walked into his office in hopes he was almost done or even better yet done.

He was still working which caused her to let out a sigh that caught his attention. He looked over at her “I’m not done yet.” He stated. She walked in the room more. “But Hanni, I've been waiting for hours. I don’t know how much longer I can take.” She whined, dramatically. He rolled his eyes at her. “You’re just gonna have to wait it out.” He tells her. “But Hanni, I'm dripping wet.” She tells him and walks closer to him. He looked over at her and noticed that she was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties. She smirks and takes one of his hands between her legs. He feels her soaking wet panties and looks up at her.

She had pleading eyes that begged him to help her with some relief. He pulled his hand away from her panties and turned back to his work. She sighed and was about to start begging again. “If you want to get off it’ll have to be on my thigh.” He said without looking at her. They’ve never done that before. “Y-Your thigh?” She asked. He hummed in reply. “To get off you will hump my thigh or you will not get off at all.” She didn’t have any option and that was clear so she removed her dripping panties from herself and was about to take off her shirt, well his shirt before he stopped her. “Leave my shirt on.” He tells her.

She straddled his thigh and sat down on it. She moved around a bit trying to find the right angle that would hit perfect. Once she did she began moving. Her hips moved slowly as she wrapped her arms around him. He wasn’t paying attention to her which annoyed her but at least she could get off. She stared at the side of his face as her hips moved a little faster. Her clit hitting a perfect spot on his dress pants making her moan in his ear. That almost caught his attention but not quite. Her breathing started to pick up and it started feeling really good. “Hanni fuck your thigh feels so good.” She whined in his ear.

That caught his attention and he stopped what he was doing. He leaned back in his seat and watched his wife fuck herself on his thigh like a bitch in heat. His hands were on her hips helping her move. Her warm gush was all over his pant leg now but he didn’t care. “You’re making such a mess on my pants, dear.” He teased. She couldn’t form words so she moaned in response. His hand traveled up her body to her boobs. He squeezed them, making her gasp out his name. He leaned forward and started kissing her neck marking her as his own. She started panting like a dog, so close to her release that she’s been craving. Hannibal pulled back a little and watched her. “Are you close?” He asked. “Yes baby so close.” She moaned. He thought about letting her cum all over his thigh but wanted to feel her cum on his dick even more.

He lifted her on the table stopping her from cumming. She gasped and he stood up to unbutton his pants and pull them down. She watched as he got rid himself of his clothing and sat back down in the chair. He pulled her back down on him and entered her making her gasp out his name. The feeling of her leaking all over his dick was the best feeling in the world to him. He started thrusting up into her giving her no time to breathe or adjust. She was letting out loud moans and whines as he fuckked up into her. He was groaning himself, loving the feeling of her tight pussy gripping him. The chair was making noises as his hips slammed up into her. Her breath was being taken away from her as the pleasure got better and better. “Hanni fuck.” She almost screamed.

His angle was perfect but he was tired of thrusting up into her so he set her on the table and started thrusting again. She gripped his back and moaned as sweat dripped down their bodies and on to the now ruined paperwork. He didn’t care at the moment, too focused on his wife pleasure. He held her tight to him as he felt himself near the edge. He was a gentleman and always let her cum first. He reached down between them and started rubbing her clit. If she wasn’t screaming before she was definitely screaming now. One last thrust of his hips and she was cumming all over him. Her orgasm was intense due to her waiting hours to release. He let go right after her with a grunt. The feeling of him cumming inside of her was the best feeling to her. She loved it and if she wasn’t so tired she could cum again.

Both of them panting and riding out the pleasure until it was gone. She whined a little as he pulled out of her. He took his shirt off her and threw it somewhere in the office. He made a mental note to pick it up before tomorrow's session with Will. He picked her up from off the table forgetting about the paperwork. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. She let out a yawn as he carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and got in it with her. He sighed and pulled her into his chest. She was already asleep. 

“Hey Hannibal, why is your shirt in here?” Will asked. Fuck

[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 Logan 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 Logan 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, Logan 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. Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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, Logan and Rueben taking the front. Rueben, with his experience, has arranged lifts back to the top each time, although both he and Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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 Logan 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

[dreinstein777]

I could love you Truly. PAC, Messages from the person who loves you the most.

Entertainment purposes only

Tao and Elle

The ability to suck it up is not a superpower, saying no is. Own your power

Evolution starts when you leave your comfort zone.get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

It’s time to celebrate the fact you don’t fit in. Stand on your own two feet.

Take a chance, every risk is a success when you’re committed to learning and growth

You are the master of your inner world, and you decide how the outer world affects you. Cultivate a calm inner state.

I’ve asked my cards several times about who may be the one sending you this message. Tons of cards fell out almost every time. I get the feeling of admirers. I hear roars of people, crowds and groups of friends cheering you on. These are best friends you’ve let go of, the people you’ve had first with, high school friends who hold stars in their eyes for you because you’re you, I know this is supposed to be from one person in particular, but for this group it feels like so many people. For those of you who work or have kids around you (around the house I hear) these people love and adore you so much. Some of you may have a style that stands out and you’re so nonchalant about it, confident even, people love this about you. The true love these people have for you is innocent. Your parent who is extremely kept to themselves or a parent who is no longer mentally in their body’s due to age or supressed truama, they feel this for you as well. Everyone wants to let you know they love you, so much, you’re everything they’ve never dared to be.

Darcy and Tara

The quality of your life is determined by how you spend your time. Make sure your schedule reflects the life you want.

Release your expectations and be open to surpise.

The time spent worrying is time spent.

You are the queen of your life, treat yourself like royalty

You are the master of your inner world, and you decide how the outer world affects you. Cultivate a calm inner state.

Okay the person who’s giving you this message is a hugger, they love hugs, they love the color pink, pastel pink, we’re opalite for some of you, I envision opalitr necklace they may have passed down to you, or you share a matching necklace. This sounds like a grandma. This may be someone who’s passed or is about to, someone who is sick. Someone you rarely see, even an aunt. You may study so much, work so much, travel. And you don’t argue, you accept it as is, but this little lady wants to remind you so bad, enjoy life, go get friends, if yiu bake then go bake for friends, as creativity to you schedule. This person misses when you used to paint, or even those crayon drawings you made as a kid, when you’d pick flowers and leafs, hand it to them as a gift, their care free child is now grown, and they wish you’d remember that part of yourself more often. They love you truly, kisses and hugs. Love you so much.

Nick snd Charlie

You have the right to change your mind

You are the queen of your life

Baby steps are still steps

They’re better than standing still

The calmer you are

The more time slows down, and the easier it is to get everything done

Your matter and its time to honor them

Love yourself more

It is safe to wait

A masculine energy that is so gentle, kind and loving, they have fear of you leaving them, choosing others before them, but here they are trusting you that they’ll love you every life snd you’ll love them right back. This could be someone You’re in a relationship with but they’re more masculine, you’ve may always had to be the one to be their for yourself and this person wants to be your rock when you feel helpless. They’ll be here constantly to remind you how beautiful you are, if you’re ace they’re so respectful about it, if you’re trans they love how you express your gender. This may be a gay relationship. Someone in your future who is so well balanced snd knows who they are, literally the nick nelson to your Charlie, searches up every little thing they don’t understand just to understand you better. This love is honest, pure, and so passionate they compose themselves or else they explode into fireworks. This person shows you love is true for you regardless of your identity. They can’t help but to say I love you I love you I love you.

[itsclydebitches]

The narrative H/C potential of switching Cazador and Orin’s kidnappings is just delicious to me. Instead of Astarion’s siblings waking him up and giving the party the chance to defend him, the player arrives back at camp (or finishes a long rest if Astarion is currently in your party) to discover that he’s just gone. No note, no sign of a struggle, nothing. Insert any hand wave-y means of abducting Astarion quietly here. The point is that this would wreck him.

Not just because he’s now back in the clutches of Cazador (though that’s obvious), but because you’re not coming for him. See, having Orin as your kidnapper is actually one of the more reassuring options, despite her murder-happy disposition. Even if she nabs a struggling character like Gale who might believe they’re unworthy of rescue for any number of reasons, Orin is one of the few baddies you simply have to engage with. Significantly, knowledge of that necessity is baked into the actual story-world. We see fighting her as a gameplay mechanic—defeat three mini bosses to reach the final boss—but that structure still exists as a Save The World quest for your party. No stone, no victory. No Orin, no stone. Ergo, they’re fighting Orin. So whoever is kidnapped knows that the party will show up eventually, even if it’s not for them. That’s it’s own wonderful, angsty assumption—“You came because it was the right thing to do, not because you care about me. My rescue was always a byproduct of saving the people who truly deserve it”—but at least there’s still reassurance in knowing you’ll see them again. All the kidnapped member has to do is not piss off Orin in the meantime and hope the party doesn’t die along the way. Not stellar odds, admittedly, but are they really any worse than what they’ve been dealing with all along?

Getting kidnapped by Cazador on the other hand... oh boy. He’s a missable boss, both mechanically and narratively. Who’s worried about him when there’s a fucking Netherbrain threatening all of Faerûn? Sure, sure, your Tav might have spent their journey helping every idiot with suitably convincing puppy-dog eyes, but Astarion is very much not a refugee tiefling/snake-threatened child/shadow-cursed hero/etc. He’s a chaotic, caustic bitch whose trauma is expressed more through biting fury than soft bouts of crying. Not only is he (in his own mind) not the sort of person people go out of their way to save, but would you even know where to begin? Depending on your approval rating you might still be iffy about Astarion’s past, as well as this upcoming ritual. Has Tav met any of the siblings yet? Do they know that Cazador’s Ascension would pose a threat to all of Baldur’s Gate? Do they have any means of finding the entrance to his palace without a former resident in the party (or convenient map marker)? Now, toss in the fact that, depending on how many long rests you’ve done, the party has only been traveling together for a matter of days/weeks. They know one another deeply (yay trauma bonding) but once separated that timeframe feels pretty insignificant, particularly to someone who has existed for over 200 years. Even if you’re romancing Astarion and he has more reason to believe that this short period of time was emotionally meaningful, he’s still admitted to manipulating you, to molding your emotions to best ensure his protection... but protection never extended to this.

Besides, Astarion has literally been here before. No heroes rescued him across two centuries of enslavement. Why would they rescue him now?

Except, it’s far worse this time around, isn’t it? Cazador isn’t merely his abuser, he’s now set to become an all-powerful vampire whose hold will truly be unbreakable. Astarion isn’t merely a slave to one individual, he’s now got a ticking time bomb in the form of a parasite set to enslave him to another. (And isn’t that something to chew on: him cursing the fact that the artifact’s protection still extends to him. At least as a Mind Flayer he wouldn’t feel anymore, would have a chance to fight back.) This time around Astarion isn’t just another beloved “child” of Cazador’s, he’s uniquely gifted in his ability to walk in the sun and resist commands. The hells only know what Cazador will make him do with that newfound power if he survives the ritual— or how Cazador will ensure Astarion’s continued “loyalty” while he does it. Worst of all though... now Astarion has had a chance to see what life could be like. Freedom. Agency. People who love him despite all the reasons they shouldn’t. Whoever said, “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” was a fucking fool. It’s so much worse to go backwards, to have lost not merely the life you dreamed of, but also the ability to pretend you never needed it in the first place.

Imagine that Astarion. Picture how broken he would be.

Now imagine the party kicking down Cazador’s door. The look on Astarion’s face when he realizes that despite the danger, the practical hurtles, the bigger stakes at play, the fact that it’s him... they came anyway.

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo x Son of Nemesis 🥀

Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x male!reader

Ps used some of the fanon powers since they’re cool

You’re a child of nemesis and it’s to be expected that you’re probably on your own and don’t have much siblings

Surprise

Well ofc Nico never took note of you

He was going through his own thing but it was only when he began reflecting that he turned to you

It wasn’t easy to turn to a complete stranger but since your godly parent is nemesis- well he just assumed you could sense his want for revenge or sum idk he didn’t really think it through, ok??

And you? You laughed at him

He knew it was too silly and stupid and was about to grumble away before you held him back and offered him your help

Which he accepted with some reluctance

I mean you didn’t really know how to go about basically giving him some therapy but in the end it never really was about his issues

You two just became used to being around each other naturally and he was able to improve on his own.

It was a surprise that the two of you even interacted, you’re known to have an intimidating aura- not to mention your rare ability of controlling someone’s luck so 🤷‍♀️

Of course your godly parent gives you a bad rep but you never really cared for it

And neither did Nico, he knows how it feels

That’s particularly what gets you closer

You both were sorta disliked all the time, Nico because he’s a child of hades and you?

Mostly because the majority of your siblings left to be on Kronos side of the war….🧍‍♀️

It was sorta a sore topic and was particularly why it was awkward for others to be around you

But Nico being Nico, well he never payed much attention to it

Looking back it was ridiculous to think that you could ever be a therapist for him and you still tease him about it till this day

But you have a lot of things in common

A particular one being grudges

Nico holds them and despises whoever crosses him

But you? You take it up a notch and make plans to enact revenge

Maybe it’s a bit over the top

But who cares?

It’s not your fault you always remember insults or wrongs against you

Honestly I feel like in this world you really get to know someone once you fight alongside them

And boy does Nico fear and have a new found respect for you now

Your powers consist of using vengeful emotions and manipulating them to the greatest extent

And even when someone has great hate for someone, well you can twist it and make them use it to take revenge

It’s a pretty useful power to get your comrades to fight with all they’ve got

And you use it on yourself too, but had you known Nico would be affected the way he was, well you wouldn’t have done it

You had been fighting some monsters while you were traveling back to Camp half-blood

You both decided to head on back from your little vacation at your house but on the way back herds of monsters just began going at you

Your guess? They hadn’t seen a couple of demigods in a hot minute

Well regardless you fought as one does except for the fact that Nicos summoning of the dead was a bit more uncontrolled than usual

Yup, he actually lost full control

Hurray

I mean he almost took you down with him

If you didn’t immediately take away your influence who knows what else he would’ve done

Just goes to show how much emotions he’s got bottled up I guess

It’s sort of awkward from here on out

Well, maybe only on Nicos part

He was afraid you’d run away and never look back if he were to show you the more scarier aspects of his powers

Which like, Nico honey

There was plenty of time to do so before

Of course you give actual reassurances to him but yknow alls well that ends well

I think a son of Nemesis x Son of Hades is a pretty interesting dynamic considering the similarities

Honestly you’d never be too hard core for the other

You feel deeply, Nico feels deeply

(Yknow feelings of hatred but still)

Maybe that means you understand it on a deeper level, maybe it’s the exact opposite

So much potential

[quillsandblades]

🔫 this is a robbery, hand over your post war Levihan headcanons (please 😊)

The world needs to know

Post war levihan gives me life ok, they're both alive and happy and together and no one spoils that for me. It's canon. Isayama who?

Congratulations, the robbery was a success and here's the loot

So after the Rumbling and the Battle of Heaven and the Earth, these two retire. First they recover in the hospital, Hange’s burn injuries and Levi’s leg and they take a break to just breathe and relax. 

Once they’re on their feet (and wheelchair) Hange drags Levi to travel as many places as they can go.

Queen Historia funds their visits (Hange somehow convinced her to allocate a budget for them cuz she wanted to see everything. And as they were heroes of the war and her parents former superiors, she agreed) and they travel a lot.  

But it’s not just going places and having fun, They plan on helping out in the rebuilding of the areas affected by the Rumbling too. They go around aiding in reconstruction and Hange helps the mechanics and engineers and learns things from them too. 

Levi distributes clothes, food, and lollipops to kids who love him. Hange later teases him for looking too long at the lollipop, “You remembered that clown right?”

“No, I was thinking about how you chased after cars in Marley with carrots in your hand.” And she gets all embarrassed, crying out how she was just so excited that she couldn’t stop.  

And he says fondly, “There’s no need to get defensive four-eyes, I was happy to see you so excited after months back then.” And she blushes because wtf?! When was Levi so romantic? But then again, he was. When she was about to sacrifice herself and he’d given her his heart. 

They don’t talk about this, nor her proposal in the forest. They don’t need to, not yet. They’ve both reached a stage of familiarity and comfort with each other throughout the years which doesn’t need any words. They both just know and they’re fine with it (levihan telepathy at its peak) 

They stay with the brats whenever they stop by in Paradis—or at the palace and help out with Historia’s orphanage. Eventually they decide to buy a house since they won’t be traveling forever. It’s a nice little cabin in the woods, just like Hange had dreamt of. 

It turns into a kind of summer house, or a place to stay in whenever they stop at Paradis and rest. They have it renovated, repainted and furnished and it becomes their own cozy little place. 

Levihan eventually settle down in their cabin for good once traveling constantly becomes too hectic. They’re used to sharing a bed by now, they did it all the time in their travels, and it comes with the much needed comfort of having someone familiar close by after waking up from nightmares. 

But that night feels different, they’ve finally settled down and this cabin is no longer a temporary lodging for their stays in Paradis, it’s on its way to become their house, their home. A safe place to relax and live in. Just like what Hange yearned for in the forest when she proposed they live here together

So Levi turns to her and sees her awake as well, staring at him. They both know that now words are needed to solidify this thing between them. But neither of them know how to proceed

Hange goes first, cuz Levi may be the strongest, he’s still not the bravest when it comes to certain things. So Hange talks, shapes out their feelings into words and sentences and each sits warmly upon them both like an extra blanket in the chilly night. And when she’s done, Levi just pulls her close and there’s too many words, feelings stuck in his throat, his mind but all he can say is “Yes. Me too.” And he just kisses her, and they hold each other all through the night. 

They look after each other’s injuries, he takes care of her burns, she helps him with exercises for his leg. Both of them are a bit conscious about their injuries. There are times when Hange looks at her scarred, burnt body and she feels broken, weak and just falls into despair. She asks Levi how he can stand looking at her, how can he put up with her, does he want to? She’s not enough. 

But he takes her face in his hands and tells her she’s more than enough. And he places her hand on his own knee, the injured one and looks into her eye. It’s one of those levihan telepathy moments where he tells her with his eyes we’re both broken, you’re there for me and I’m here for you, so we’re each other’s crutches. 

Once again, they’re like two halves of a whole. Even after the war, with their flawed bodies and capabilities, they fit in together perfectly. She’s there as his support when he needs to walk and he’s there as the soothing balm to her burning scars. They don’t need anyone else. 

Things have changed, and now it’s Hange who helps Levi take a bath. She’s careful with him and Levi would tell her to wash his hair again and again, he likes how her fingers feel in his head. But the roles haven’t completely switched, he’d still drag her for a bath as well since she always neglects it. 

Levi is the cuddler.

While they both naturally wake up at the crack of dawn due to years of army training drilled into them, there are days they hold back and relax. But on those days Hange's usually the one who wants to jump out of bed first, there's just so much to do, how can she waste her day in bed? But it's levi who pulls her back and buries his face in her shoulder and cages her in his warm sleepy embrace and says, "Stay still four-eyes, those seedlings aren't going anywhere." And he just. Cuddles.

Hange goes wild in the garden, she plants all that she can get her hands on and Levi goes around ordering her to arrange it all neatly. And his help is needed, otherwise their garden would’ve been a terrible mess. He makes sure there are neat sectors to all the things, vegetables at one side and fruits at the other. 

“I’m telling you shorty, tomatoes are fruits! We’re not planting them on the veg side.” 

Levi’s got a side of the garden all for himself where he grows tea and he cherishes his little tea garden. Whenever Hange comes across any exotic or new species of tea, she makes sure to get plenty of seeds for Levi to plant. 

She goes about experimenting with plants and seeds, she does grafting and makes hybrid seeds and plants them to observe the results. They have plenty of land around the cabin and she’s got all the time in the world now. She also tries to make hybrid species of flowers. 

She works together with Levi and does the same things with tea. They end up opening a tea shop and Levi tells her it was once his dream as a kid. It gets a lot of customers, and it keeps Levi and Hange busy. Hange continues to experiment with tea and they get the most unique blends that way. Eventually they add a few other things to the menu but their tea remains the most famous one in Paradis.   

The 104th often visit their home or the shop. Armin’s often at their place, asking Hange for commander advice and they talk politics for long hours. 

Mikasa prefers the tea shop more, it’s a cozy, comfortable place, not too quiet, and not too loud. It suits her mood and the aroma of tea calms her down. Levi would often find her asleep in one of the cushy armchairs and just throw a blanket over her if it’s cold. She doesn’t like to go back home since it’s mostly empty and quiet (and she misses Eren, we don’t blame her) so Levihan often invite her over to their place. By now they’ve practically made the second guest room as Mikasa’s bedroom. She often spends the nights there and when she can’t sleep she comes out and sits on the porch. 

Levihan also have sleepless nights, so when their daughter she’s staying over they all gather outside or in the living room and have hot tea and talk to forget their worries. It’s a good way to keep unwanted memories away for all of them. The morning finds them all asleep on the carpet, Levi and Hange leaning into each other, Mikasa with often her head on Hange’s lap. 

Jean and Connie visit a lot as well, and whenever the 104th all come together, Hange makes sure they all stay the night no matter how much Levi grumbles about them being too noisy. She brushes off his complaints, he was always an old man hiding away from fun and excitement. 

They have drinking games on the porch and Hange and Levi get a lot of dares to kiss each other. They kids were always betting on them to get together, and now that they officially are, they wanna see all the proof they can get. Plus it’s good to see their tough captain all red faced and embarrassed. 

Whenever their Marley friends visit, Levi and Hange go meet them. Gabi and Falco get along surprisingly well with Levi, they steal him away from Hange for the day and zoom around the city with his wheelchair. He pretends to complain. Pretends. 

Pieck, Onyankopon and Hange get along the best together. They always fill her in about the situation of the world, the aftermath of the war. It starts out with just people collecting the pieces after the rumbling and focusing on rebuilding everything. But over the years as the states get stronger Hange and Levi get news about more conflicts, more schemes, no war in sight but the usual political disagreements and disunity. It saddens her how quickly humans revert back to their divided state, fighting once more over land or money or people. 

Pieck tells them they don’t have anything to worry about. They’ve retired, all they gotta do is enjoy the rest of their lives.  

Hange wants to write about their dead comrades, document everything about their lives within the walls and outside them, their training and the survey corps. She wants their memories to remain and Levi agrees on that. So they begin, it turns into a book with a few volumes. Hange writes down all she and Levi can remember and fills the pages with their friends’ laughter, tears and blood. The war and Paradis’ side of the story behind the genocide. 

It gets published and it’s a hit. People around the world would eventually read it (but by that time Levi and Hange would probably be dead) and it’s one of the crucial things that changes the views of the masses about the ‘Island Devils”

They talk about having children, Hange asks Levi if he wants any. The idea is nice, having a little brat of their own. But it turns out they’re too tired to manage a baby and the crying and wailing that comes with it and the attention it would demand. Besides they already do have children, the brats from the 104th. 

Perhaps if they were younger and had lived different lives, they would’ve been more serious about it. But not here. Now they’ve survived through hell and want to be selfish with the rest of their lives. And they are. 

💚💜

[ilguna]

☼ grim (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you were going to wait to tell Finnick you're hurt, but you can't.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, weapon usage, gore.

wc; 2.2k

–

The streets of the Capitol have never been so eerie before. They were designed to be brightly colored, even the sidewalks that line the asphalt are tiny mosaics. Each street is themed after a different fantasy, it’s like a rainbow threw up all of its colors, took a breath, and then continued.

A couple weeks ago, this neighborhood would’ve been filled with the people that live here. They woke up later in the day, worked for a few hours, went shopping and came home to a full fridge and not a single worry in the world. They were excited for the next Quarter Quell and the hell that would follow it.

And now they’ve deserted the place they call home.

It’s almost wrong, the way that the buildings have been destroyed. A number of pods have been set off prior to your squad’s arrival to ensure that you’ll travel safely to the mansion. Which means that the building’s paint has gone from brand new to smokey from the fires. There’s large chips on the exterior, ruining its pristine condition. And most, if not all, of the windows have been shattered onto the mosaics.

The sound of glass crunching beneath your black boots is the only noise that fills the air. Everyone has been lost in thought for the past hour, following Boggs through the streets, hoping that he’s leading you in the right direction. Supposedly, with the device he has, he’s able to locate every pod that you’re approaching, can tell what they contain, and he’ll steer you away if they’re too dangerous.

You’ve been on the tips of your toes, waiting for a mistake. It’s too quiet out here, it feels like there’s someone watching you around every corner. When you told Finnick about the creepy feeling, he did close to nothing to help ease the tension from your body. He told you there’s a good chance that you’re right.

He hasn’t been very comforting as of late. 

As much as you’d like to be mad at him for it, you can’t really blame him. There’s been a tornado of shit that’s been going around you two since the Quell was announced in the winter. It’s a miracle that you’ve managed to stay together through it. After what happened in the arena, you thought for sure that was going to be the end of (Y/n) and Finnick.

Boggs suddenly stops at the opening of another block, a ring of apartment buildings with a nice courtyard right in the center. The group of you gather around as he pulls out the Holo so you can see a projection of the block and where the pods are inside. You cross your arms, listening to him explain how you’re going to do it.

There’s a gunfire pod positioned a third of the way down, above an apartment awning. He wants to trigger it with bullets, which means for a volunteer. As for a second pod, it’s at the far end, almost the next corner. That pod requires a body to set it off, needing another volunteer.

Several people raise their hands, not including you. Ever since you found out last week that you’re here for decoration, you’ve been doing the bare minimum. You’re not going to put yourself in unnecessary danger just so they can film you and manipulate the country into thinking you’re actually helping. Besides, no matter who raises their hands and their capabilities for the situation, Boggs tries hard not to call on any of the victors. Star Squad professionals, only.

Katniss gets sent to Messalla to get her makeup done for the filming. You follow Boggs’ directions to position yourself for when the pods get set off. It takes a couple minutes for the camera crew to get the angle they want. You watch as Messalla throws a few smoke charges to make an atmosphere for the video, and resist the urge to laugh. It’s comical.

On Katniss’ lead, you follow her through the smoke and down the path. Everyone has been asked to shoot a window, but when Finnick sees that you’re not participating, he does it for you. Gale’s the one that’s been selected to hit the pod, causing the rest of you to duck into doorways or flattening against the colorful stones in order to avoid being hit by the bullets. 

When Boggs feels like it’s not going to react to any movement, he orders you forward, only for Cressida to stop everyone before they move and ruin her vision. She wants close-up shots of your reactions, falling to the ground, grimacing, diving into the doorways. 

You opt not to participate, which it met with a stern look from Boggs. You two have had plenty of conversations these past couple of days about Coin’s wants and how you need to follow them. He stopped bringing it up after you kept repeatedly telling him that she is not in control over you, therefore he isn’t either. The one reason why you’re still part of the squad is for Finnick, no one else.

“Pull it together, Four-Five-One,” Boggs tells them firmly, they’ve been laughing at Messalla for trying to reenact how he felt. You look up from where you’re rolling a bullet back and forth on the mosaics. Boggs is backing away, Holo in his hand as he tries to see through the haze to find the next pod, his foot landing on one of the orange tiles.

You want the tile sink.

An ear-splitting explosion shakes the ground, as you take Finnick through the doorway with you. You hit the carpet, struggling to breathe through the toxic air. A second explosion goes off nearby, your ears begin to ring. You take in a breath, and you’re immediately met with a sharp stabbing pain.

You stop, turning away from Finnick as you try to see around your vest where the pain is coming from. Your face twists, fingers searching along your upper right side, around your ribs. You’re met with torn fabric, so you gently press into the exposed skin.

You let out a cry, gritting your teeth. You slam your head back against the carpet, eyes shut to prevent the dizziness that’s beginning to make the room spin. Your fingertips are met with a smooth object, and the moment you prod it, you almost black out.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick’s voice is loud, hands touching your face, “Are you okay?”

You let out a noise, wincing, “Yeah, I just lost my breath there for a second.” You extend your hand to block his view of where you’re touching. When you open your eyes, you can see that he’s searching your face. “I’m okay, go check on them.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, go.” You hold your hand out, and he pulls you into a sitting position.

Finnick gets to his feet, and ducks out of the doorway and onto the street. You can hear screaming, panicked voices being traded back and forth. There’s a dark liquid traveling your way, resembling the consistency of blood.

You pull your hand away from your wound, and find your fingers are coated in red, too. There’s something lodged in your side, it’s causing you to bleed. If you don’t take it out, you risk the chance of more damage as you move. When you take it out, you’ll be opening the floodgates for blood. This is not a winning situation.

You slowly get to your feet, being sure not to jostle too hard. Instead of going out of the door, you travel further inside the green apartment, heading for the mirror that sits in the hallway. You have a sick feeling that you already know what’s inside of your body, and it’s confirmed when you lift your arm.

A shard of glass, large and sharp enough to pierce your skin. You grit your teeth, taking a few deep breaths, before you grip and yank. The lightheadedness is instant, you find yourself on your knees, slamming your fist into the carpet to combat the pain.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick’s voice is faraway, he must still be outside. “We need to get moving, now!”

“I’m coming!” You shout back, wrapping your left hand around your chest to press flat against the open wound. It’ll work for now, you’ll tell them as soon as you’re somewhere safe.

You slide up the wall, focusing on your breathing. When you step foot out onto the street, you’re met with murder. Boggs is laying on the street, both of his legs gone below his thighs. The blood on the sidewalk belongs to him, and it’s sprayed up the side of the building.

“Prepare to retreat!” Jackson shouts.

“We can’t!” Finnick shouts back, he’s got an unconscious Messalla in his arms, “Look!”

You turn to look where you’d just come in. A black, oily liquid geysers from the street, and high into the air, raining down between the buildings. It coats the side so thick that you can’t see the bright pink underneath.

Gale works together with Leeg to shoot a path to the other end of the block, anticipating other unmarked bombs. It’s right of them to do this, they set off another one about ten yards away. 

You take off after them, ignoring the pain that surges through your body with every heavy step. You can feel the blood leaking between your fingers, making your skin slippery and hard to cover.

Homes and Katniss each grab one arm that belongs to Boggs and drag him down the street the best they can. Boggs is screaming, not bothering to try and stay quiet. You guess noise doesn’t matter, not with the bombs, the gunfire, and the giant wave of black oil rolling toward you.

They don’t make it far, there’s a shout, and the sound of someone hitting the stones. You turn to see Peeta over Katniss, the butt of his gun aimed over her head. Mitchell tackles Peeta, managing to pin him to the ground, but Peeta’s still got strength despite the torture he went through in the Capitol.

He gets his feet underneath Mitchell and launches him further downhill. A loud snap fills the air as he triggers a pod, four cables break through the stones, stringing Mitchell above the street. It’s mere seconds before he’s covered in blood, because of the barbs that line the wires.

You pause briefly, but then your feet start moving again when you’re choked by the smell of the oil. You follow after Gale and Leeg, who have managed to shoot the lock off a corner building, allowing you to get inside. You watch from the doorway as they aim at the wires that hold Mitchell’s net, hoping to get him down.

There’s several people on Peeta to restrain him. Katniss has gotten back to her feet, grabbing Boggs with Homes, they’re the next ones to make it into the apartment. Castor and Pollux drag in a screaming Peeta, Jackson handcuffs him, and they manage to get him into a closet without much effort.

You travel further into the apartment when Finnick gets inside with Messalla. You follow them through the living room, past the hallway and into the kitchen where everyone else has gathered. Leeg, Cressida and Gale are the last three to make it inside, slamming the kitchen door shut and stuffing towels beneath the opening to avoid the toxic fumes of the oil. 

“Mitchell?” Homes asks, Leeg shakes her head.

You lean over the counter, wincing because the pain is getting worse. You stomp your foot, squeezing your eyes shut.

Peeta’s feet are slamming into the closet door, trying to break it down. You all quiet down to listen, you’re sure a few of them are bracing themselves for when he succeeds. With each quick, they grow quieter, weaker. And then he stops.

“He’s gone?” Finnick asks, you look up to see they’re talking about Boggs. “We need to get out of here. Now. We just set off a streetful of pods. You can bet they’ve got us on surveillance tapes.”

“Count on it.” Castor says. “All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras. I bet they set off the wave manually when they saw up taping the propo.”

“Our radio communicators went dead almost immediately. Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I’ll get us back to camo. Give me the Holo.” Jackson reaches for the device.

“Finnick.” You call, he looks up, face twisting.

“You’re pale.”

“I’m bleeding.” You turn your body to the side, lifting your hand for him to see.

“Holy shit.” He pushes through the kitchen to get where you’re standing in the corner, “Homes, will you—?”

“Yes.” He pops out the first aid kit, setting it on the counter.

“What happened?”

“It was a glass shard, I thought I’d be able to handle it for a little while, but I’m dizzy.” You tilt your head back.

“Okay, okay,” He rinses the wound, you let out a groan between your teeth. “It’s a good thing you didn’t wait, (Y/n).”

“Listen, both of us have gone through worse, I thought I’d be able to handle a little blood.”

“Except this isn’t little.” He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’m going to cover it, but we have to stitch it as soon as we get the chance.”

You make a face, “Great.”

“It’s that or bleed to death.”

“I’m already halfway there.”

Finnick gives you a look, "I don't think that's funny right now."

You touch the side of his face, "I'll let you know if I bleed through or if I'm in any significant pain. I won't keep it to myself, babe. I promise."

"Good, because we're wasting time."

[breekento]

Have you ever gone into possible hobbies that Nanami has vs Higuruma? I'm disappointed we never got to see his likes and hobbies 😭😭😭

Welcome back to another HiguNana analysis by Bree!

Unfortunately we don’t ever get to know very much about the personal interests and hobbies of Higuruma and Nanami throughout the show. They already have very little screen time and what we do see is usually pertaining only to the world of sorcery. But something that Higuruma and Nanami nation have decided is that both of these hunky men are wealthy and wealthy men have hobbies.

Like usual, these are my personal head-cannons please don’t be mad at me.

Hobbies that HiguNana have in common:

They are men of style and class, both wearing luxury suits and splurging on nice cars and watches. They adore shopping with you. They’ve worked hard in their careers to be able to afford their lifestyle and they both have the love language of gift giving. Those two things combined equals shopping trips for the two of you. They love dressing you up, watching you spin around for them. They can put their money where their mouth is. When you can’t decide which dress to buy for their work party, they say, “Just get both, darling. You can use one for a date night and one for the party.”

In a similar vein, they love traveling. And they love bringing you along. Even if it’s just a weekend getaway somewhere you’ve never been, they will book a last-minute trip and pack your bags for you. They already know your essentials and favorite outfits so you can expect your bag to be packed as soon as you get home.

Nanami’s hobbies:

Starting off with the most obvious, something we do know about Nanami is his love for reading. Before his death, he mentioned all of the books he never got around to reading. I like to think he has a home library and a wide range of taste in books from historical non-fiction to fiction fantasy books. In the mornings, he brews a cup of black coffee and sits outside, reading whatever current novel he is on before getting dressed and ready for work.

Something that we don’t have any clues for but is something that I can see fitting his character very well is a love for baking and cooking. He seems like the type of man to insist on cooking for holidays like Valentine’s Day, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. His love for pastries only signifies that he at some point has dabble in baking. Plus, he would look just adorable in an apron.

Maybe this is just me self-inserting myself but as an avid plant mother Nanami has the type of personality to be a loving plant father. He’s patient and gentle and would take the utmost care of a garden or home jungle. He could use his own fresh vegetables in his cooking!

Now, this might tie in to the shopping hobby but we all know Nanami is a man of funky ties. I could see him collecting fun ties. Shopping for other items and coming across a new pattern he has never seen before, he can’t help himself. He has a drawer only for his ties and picks them out for every occasion.

Nanami is a white collar man and who do all white collar man love? Golf. Nanami is a man of golf. It only makes sense that he would have a section of his closet dedicated to his golf attire. Many times, business deals and business meetings are done over a game of golf.

Higuruma’s hobbies:

Higuruma was much more difficult to identify some hobbies but after some deliberation, I think I’ve found a handful that I would coin. Maybe I will even write them into future Higuruma fanfics.

The first one would be poker. You can’t tell me you can’t imagine Higuruma, cigarette in mouth and whiskey on the table playing poker with a group of other lawyers in his firm. After a long and stressful day of being professional, they undo their ties and relax over a game of poker. They have enough money to make the stakes higher by adding bets and money on the line.

To me, Higuruma strikes me as a music type of guy. More specifically, old music. He has a collection of vinyls that he will pull out and show guests and more importantly, you. Weekend mornings, he heads down to the local record store and thumbs through the new albums they have in stock. He has a well up-kept vintage record player, only the finest machine to play his collection.

I honestly can’t remember if it was ever made evident in the manga that Higuruma smoked or if we all just collectively gave him that head cannon but Higuruma is a smoker. Not only a smoker but he collects cigars. Rarely does he smoke his fine cigars, only pulling them out for special occasions such as weddings or other important events.

Similarly, Higuruma is a bar hopper. Not in the same sense as a twenty-something college kid but as an established lawyer with a wealth behind him. He finds new and fun bars with good live music to sit and have a few drinks at. His favorite thing is bringing you along. He gets to hear about your day, listen to the smooth local band behind you and have a nice drink. It’s an excuse to see you dressed up in your shopping spree outfit.

[olympeline]

Love love love the omega verse fruk content! But, what do we think about omega Arthur accidentally getting pregnant in the 16th century and voila, FACE fam is born… something something “nation people don’t get pregnant even if they’re presenting omega and going through heat” but then new land is discover and “oops” turns out there is a reason why nation people have reproductive cycles

Oh nonny, do not unleash these thoughts on me! I tell you they will take root 🥺

See? Now I’m posting about it. I hope you’re happy! 😩

If this happened, I’m guessing it would be because of a very specific sets of circumstances. Otherwise nation-people don’t reproduce like humans do. When a new land is discovered, a successful settler population is established, with the main bulk of the settlers coming from an omega nation, and a significant portion coming from their alpha partner. And it had to be part of the New World, maybe? Like the clue is in the name. Just something about the Old World that makes it so no new nation-people are born the human way there any more. They used to be but it happened so long ago, when the Old World was new, that now not even China remembers. It’s become like an old wives’ tale to the nation folk. Anyway, all these boxes have to be ticked otherwise the new colony/nation-person comes into being the “normal” way and just appears one day. I kinda like this idea actually. Like a/b/o nations can have kids but such rare situations have to arise that they almost never do? And reproductive knowledge is still a loooot of guesswork back then too, so.

Soooo Francis and Arthur don’t bother with even the primitive precautions they had at the time. Why would they? The NA twins are the first new nation-people born this way in thousands of years, so the Dover pair had no idea they needed to be careful. Just carried on with their usual fooling around every time Arthur’s heat came, including on the shores of the New World. Like, literally on the shore, maybe? Francis is already there with the French colonists when he senses Arthur is near. Goes miles down the coastline close to where the English settlers are. Headcanon here that nation-people can travel much faster than normal humans so this doesn’t take him months, lol. Finds an English ship anchored and their personification alone on the beach. In heat and giving off an aura of STAY AWAY NORMAL HUMANS I LOVE YOU BUT FOR NO SPECIFIC REASON ENGLAND NEEDS SOME ALONE TIME WITH HIS FUTURE MATE ANCIENT ENEMY WHO HE STILL TOTALLY HATES SO GO INTO THE SETTLEMENT AND LEAVE YOUR MOTHERLAND BE UNTIL HE CALLS YOU, OKAY?

Arthur is all curled up in the sand like an overheated, grumpy merman. Scolds Francis for making him wait, then pulls him down and won’t even let Francis move them off the beach until they’ve done it a few times. Something about this heat has made it almost as bad as the first one and it started coming on halfway across the Atlantic. No amount of whining from Francis about sand in his hair or his new clothes getting ruined is going to make Arthur wait a moment longer for that knot. Even after Francis puts his foot down when the tide starts coming in and drags Arthur inland, they still keep at it. Marathon session that goes on and on until they’re both sore, sticky, and totally exhausted.

Francis: Needy this time weren’t we, mon lapin?

Arthur: Mmmm…*Sated omega sounds followed by three day sleep*

Francis stays by Arthur’s side and brings him food when he wakes up. He can’t explain why. He just…really wants to. Struts and sashays right into the English settlement, commandeers a kitchen and supplies, and just dares them to object, lmao. No one is that dumb! So Arthur gets a French feast when he wakes up. Then Francis keeps hanging around and staying close. Eventually a secretly pleased but outwardly embarrassed tsundere Arthur has to shoo him away back to his own lands. The food and aftercare are nice but people might start to talk and suspect, you know? They’re still supposed to be enemies.

Afterwards life carries on and things go back to normal. They get distracted by the day-to-day routine of being nations. So much so that Francis fails to notice when Arthur doesn’t call on him for help with his heats. It’s only when Arthur misses a third time that he starts to wonder. But then, Arthur was a late bloomer and their cycles are always a little wacky. Not so weird to skip a heat or two then have several close together. Francis isn’t too worried and neither is Arthur. Then he starts getting other weird symptoms. Often at hilariously inopportune times:

Arthur: *Mid Anglo-Spanish naval battle* Die, Catholic dog! You…

Antonio:….Yes?

Arthur:…One moment, please. *Dashes to the side of the ship to throw up*

Antonio:…Comida inglesa, ni siquiera una vez.

We’ve basically entered a pregnancy focused romantic comedy at this stage, lol. Not that anyone realises for a long time, Francis and Arthur included. It should be obvious: Arthur throwing up, not getting his heats, the alphas around him (even his enemies) suddenly not wanting to hurt him as much and pulling their punches when they fight, Francis wanting to stick around and be by his side, etc. It shouldn’t take a genius to work out what’s happening. But remember, hardly anyone knows Arthur is an omega at this point. Plus this kind of nation-person pregnancy is something that had passed into antiquity and become a myth. So everyone’s density is justfied.

In the end, it’s Alasdair who works it out first. He’s an alpha and Arthur’s older brother so his own protective instincts had to be going crazy. Which, on top of all the other changes Arthur is going through, the biggest telltale is his scent. Arthur’s brothers know him best out of everyone and, as the group’s sole alpha, Alasdair’s nose picks up what should be impossible. He thinks he’s wrong for months but the evidence keeps piling up. One morning he comes in to find Arthur slumped over with his head in a bucket as has become a common occurrence lately. Then, while Arthur’s good and distracted, Alasdair sneaks up to scent him. Then rips up his shirt and sees that barely there, slightly rounded middle. There’s no denying it then. Arthur’s omega nature and his “arrangement” with Francis was an open secret in the British Isles family. Arthur’s hastily put together potions and spells could disguise his scent enough to fool other nation-people, but not them. They all suspected but none of them, not even Alasdair, ever said anything out of respect for Arthur’s feelings. They knew what a blow it must have been for him. In spite of everything, they still care for the idiot, you know? He’s still their little brother.

Alasdair accuses Arthur in his ordinary, ultra blunt, Scottish way. Arthur brushes him off as being crazy. Alasdair leaves and comes back with Dylan and one of his books on the ancient history of their kind. Dylan is convinced, Arthur isn’t. You know how he is: denial all the way, baby! Dylan says Arthur is sick because the child needs to spend time in the New World where it will be born. Needs to soak up the energy of the land and the like. Otherwise…bad things, for both of them. Arthur says “you’re all crazy stop being crazy go away, crazy acting brothers of mine” but Alasdair says “right, then!” and just grabs Arthur up. Then, with Dylan’s help, they bundle their furious, spitting sibling onto a ship headed for Virginia. Alasdair goes with him. Meanwhile Dylan heads across the channel to tell Francis (“DYLAN DON’T YOU DARE DYLAN I WILL KILL YOU I SWEAR IF YOU SAY ONE WORD TO THE FROG-” - Arthur, probably). Francis is stunned by the news. Stunned and…cautiously ecstatic? I know he really wishes he could have a family in canon. Oh man, he would so want to believe this is real. But also be so afraid to get his hopes up because it sounds impossible. The drama! We love it. 🥺 Francis jumps on the fastest ship they have and sails to the English settlement to be reunited with Arthur. After a hilariously awkward conversation between the Auld Alliance duo (“…so, seems ye knocked up my little brother” “…oui, seems I did” “…aye, carry on, then” “merci”) Francis is allowed into the bedroom to see Arthur. Who’s still a Scottish prisoner, still in denial, and sulking like mad in a nest he made. Don’t ask him why he keeps wanting to make nests these days even though he hasn’t had a heat in ages. Well, you can ask but the only answer you will get is shut up and go away, dickhead. Arthur Bloody Kirkland is the face of the United Bloody Kingdom and he can make bloody nests if he bloody wants to! *Hissy tsundere noises*

Arthur tries to bluster at Francis to go away or better yet help him throttle Alasdair who’s obviously gone mental, but Francis doesn’t give him the chance. Just pounces and kisses Arthur, cheats shamelessly by using wicked lips and fingers on the omega spot on Arthur’s neck, making him go all loose and purry. Then Francis presses both their hands to Arthur’s stomach and they feel something move.

One of the NA twins - probably Alfred, I mean let’s be honest - waking up to say hello.

Even Arthur can’t deny it after that. Shocked and furious, he tries to rant at Francis (“WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME YOU FUCKING FROG! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! I’LL FUCKING SKIN YOU FOR THIS-!” - Arthur, definitely) but Francis is crying too hard to notice. Then he’s laughing and sobbing at the same time: hugging Arthur, professing his love, and kissing his lips off. Arthur’s shock and fear based rage stands no chance in the face of Francis’s thousand years plus heartfelt yearning for a family. He gives in and lets Francis have his moment of ecstasy. The kissing soon evolves into something else and Francis almost loses control and gives Arthur a mating bite, but pulls back at the last second. They’re not ready for that. Arthur noticed. Arthur didn’t say he did. Arthur is secretly grateful and feels his heart flutter even so.

Things go pretty smoothly after the big revelation, all things considered. High emotions settle and they start planning. Arthur stays in the New World and so does Francis. They have their people build a small cabin on the border between their territories so Arthur can have some peace away from curious human eyes. Alasdair goes back to Britain and takes over as leader of the UK for the time being. Dylan scrapes together every bit of knowledge about nation-person pregnancy he can (not much and not all of it useful) and brings it to the FrUK couple along with the usual books on human birth. They all decide to keep it secret from the rest of their kind. Otherwise everyone would want to come and see this miraculous anomaly. Arthur is stressed enough as it is even if he is starting to come round to the idea. No one wants him and the baby to become objects of curiosity. Then the time comes and Francis is with Arthur for it. Getting screamed at, getting his fingers crushed, taking promises that Arthur will FUCKING MURDER HIM FOR THIS-AAAAARRGGHHH!!! without complaint. It goes just like an ordinary human birth. The only surprise is two babies pop out instead of the one they expected. Arthur names the oldest Alfred, after his great king. Francis, when he finally stops sobbing, names the other Matthew. They know by instinct that their true names are America and Canada. When Francis nuzzles Arthur’s neck and kisses that special place with a soft whisper of “mon amour” Arthur knows he’s asking permission. He says “yes” and Francis bites him, leaving his mark as their new sons sleep between them.

Afterwards Arthur moans and complains that the bite was a stupid idea and now he has to wear a damn neckerchief or cravat even in the fucking tropics, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s him who orders a pair of gold rings for them to wear, hidden by gloves or else worn on chains under their shirts. ❤️ Yeah, they become mates much sooner in this version of events, heh. It’s still a secret though, even to their kids before their old enough not to accidentally reveal it to anyone else. Alfred belongs to America, so he lives in the English colonies. Matthew is of Canada, so Francis raises him until the British win the French Canadian territory and Matthew moves in with Arthur instead. They’re still national personifications and have to obey the politics of the day. So they can’t live together as a family as if they were human. Sad, but we know it turns out all right in the end. Peace comes eventually and they can be a family then. And that’s where I’ll leave this AU, I think. This post is already pretty long.

Hope you enjoyed reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[theplotdemandsit]

how would you imagine five hargreeves’s personality if he had grown up alongside his siblings ? What would he had done? Be depressed unfulfilled university proffessor? Work for CIA?

You ask such good questions!

My answer might deviate a little, but in my perfect world, here’s what would happen if Five didn’t end up in the Apocalypse:

Five would still have walked out that day. He would have knifed that table, yelled at Reginald, and run out the door.

BUT.

He attempts time travel and it works. He’s so excited to go back and say, “I told you so,” but he isn’t even sure how far into the future he travelled. He doesn’t make any more jumps into the future. Instead his pride takes him right back to that academy where he pushes past those gates. It’s not spring anymore, but winter, so he must have gone forward a several months. Not exactly what he was aiming for, but not bad!

But.

As he enters the academy, no one is there. He hears the voices outside and sees everyone standing around a casket blanketed with snow. The only one missing from the group is—

Ben.

Five doesn’t talk to his siblings because the pride he felt washes away until there’s nothing but guilt. And determination. It wasn’t months he went forward, it was years. Nearly 5 of them. He tries to go back to 2002, but he can’t. He talks to Reginald about finding a way back, but dear old Dad tells him these are his consequences to bear. Because they both know Ben would have lived had Five been there.

But Pogo helps him. Together they work and work to find all the right answers, and eventually he does go back. Only he manages to get back 8 days before Ben’s death date.

In a perfect world, Five helps to save Ben. He never attempts time travel again. But knowing that it was these missions Reginald sent them on that killed Ben, Five can’t help but wonder whose life will be on the line next. His siblings are older than him now, but he’s the only one who stands up to Dad.

When he can’t convince them to rebel with him, he tries to take Reginald down himself. He goes through his journals and finds out about how Vanya actually has powers. He helps her slowly go off of the medications (not all at once because obviously that’s dangerous) and secretly helps her train her power.

Eventually all the other siblings find out and are mortified by what Dad did to Vanya (and had Allison do to them). At family dinner one night the kids all give Reginald slips of paper that show they’re enrolling in a public school. Pogo supports them.

Reginald continues to have training sessions with them, but he lets them go to public school. They make friends and slowly overcome the abuse they’ve been raised with. Rather than being emotionally stunted, they find themselves and learn to love themselves.

To get out of the academy entirely, the kids (except Five who is technically around 14) petition for emancipation. They all live close together and some share apartments like Five and Vanya (who becomes his legal guardian).

Five isn’t depressed. He isn’t unfulfilled. He looks out for his siblings with a certain level of wariness, but he doesn’t push them away. Like the others, he doesn’t really use his power much, but, like the others, he still helps the police and FBI every now and again if they need something requiring his special skill set. Outside of that, he works as an experimental physicist due to his love and high understanding of math and physics. Whenever his siblings are looking for him, they’ll usually find him in front of a whiteboard writing out equations.

Some things never change.