#we have been friends and sort of hooking up for almost an year now

[found-queer]

anyone else wants to smoke weed together, confess their love for me and ask me to be their girlfriend b4 this day ends?

[onelittlespiral]

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

[see-arcane]

I am truly thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I did not think so at first, but I know better now. [...] I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such confidence as ours; but I must be resolute, and to-morrow I shall keep dark over to-night's doings, and shall refuse to speak of anything that has happened.

Jonathan, no, don't give into the guys' peer pressure noooo

It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am to-day; after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years, to see him manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of all. This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and though Jonathan was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never mentioned a word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's house. And yet he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow! I suppose it must have distressed him even more than it did me. They all agreed that it was best that I should not be drawn further into this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think that he keeps anything from me! And now I am crying like a silly fool, when I know it comes from my husband's great love and from the good, good wishes of those other strong men.

[...] Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all; and lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read.

Mina, no, you have to communicate now, in the present, you're you, you can un-acquiesce, you can break the curse, just talk to Jonathan now, noooooo

GOD this is masterfully infuriating work, Bramward Stokerbroker. Here we have on paper just how much this new status quo--the 'proper' status quo--grates against both of them. You can almost hear them grinding their teeth with the effort to keep smiling and nodding through this unanimous* decision. They know it is For Mina's Sake that they are doing this. Sure, they both hate every second of it and it breaks a loving rhythm they've shared for years together, BUT THEY KNOW BETTER NOW :)))

(Lucy is screaming in the afterlife. Renfield has his head in his hands.)

But all that aside, a thing I'm hooked on this read-around is the fact that, hey. We are reading this. Spoiler, but the entirety of Dracula is actually compiled together by Mina after the story closes. These are all written documents we're reading that the entire group has laid eyes on already. With everyone (bar Art and Quincey for some reason, thanks Mr. 3 Lines Allowed and Mr. Laconic :/, Jack is just talking and waiting for Mina to transcribe now, augh) on duty in some way to record the progress of things so that they can be read later as reference...I have to wonder now.

How honest are these pages the Harkers are putting down now versus what they wrote before joining Van Helsing's Scooby gang? Neither one is writing in shorthand. It's all plain English.

I had a class once where one of the assignments was to keep a daily journal. One page filled out every single day, about anything. Anyone want to guess how many personal secrets or honest feelings I put in those pages for the guy grading my class to read? If you said anything higher than 0 you're wrong.

The Harkers have an audience to worry about right now. An audience of Prof. Et Cetera, Dr. Asylum Director (whose asylum they're currently living in! the kind of place where Jonathan could've ended up and innumerable women have been imprisoned for being women the Wrong Way! whee!), Incredibly Wealthy and Empowered Lord, and Mr. Likewise Rich 'We Should Do Guns About It' American. Who all seem to like them, fresh-from-the-lower class, industrious and Dracula-confronting sorts that they are. Fast friends, all of them.

(Jonathan is still only Harker to them. Simultaneously the Man Who Survived Castle Dracula and the gofer guy doing the footwork and the paperwork/property hunt while Van Helsing hits the library and the others...well, I'm sure they're doing something. Other than re-reading the first half of Dracula.)

(...Which was compiled and transcribed by Mina. Who faced down Dracula in her jammies. Unarmed. At night. For Lucy. But she can't handle your scary stories about the houses full of dirt boxes, let alone join you on the hunt she was explicitly prepared and eager to help with. Can't risk it, little lady, off to bed now.)

This is where they are now that they've ~joined forces~ with Van Helsing and the Suitor Squad. After all they've done, all they're still relied on to do, the Harkers are with allies who have had their acquaintance for less than three days. And now, to appease those allies and their opinions and to keep everything placid with these nice, outnumbering, socially and monetarily endowed parties, they do what they've always done when faced with the fact of their being perpetually on the low rung of the ladder.

The Harkers accommodate. Including in their own diaries, as these too are now deemed forfeit important to the Cause, should the gang need to comb back through it all for clues.

That's why the Harkers are the only ones writing it down--because they already were. They're the kids in the group project who can be trusted to do the work. So just let them keep doing it. Keep an accurate record now, kids! You do such a good job of it, we'd only be getting in the way, ha ha. Remember that we can and will read everything you put down in the future.

Hence: All of what we read today. And will read in the dates to come.

The Harkers are writing under a (friendly) gun right now. They can purge some feelings, but not all of them. And not completely. And not in any way that certain doctors and upper class people of power they barely know might misconstrue as ungrateful or mad in any sense. The Harkers are good people. The Harkers are helpful. The Harkers are team players even if that means no longer being a team themselves. They chafe a little at this, but it's all so new to them! It's alright. God's will and Van Helsing's be done. They know better now.

With all this in mind, it makes much more sense why Jonathan chooses to use shorthand for a Very Particular Entry we see coming up. An entry that Mina alone could read and decide to enter in the distant future, after the storm had passed.

And why, in light of all that happens, he cannot trust himself to put more than a vignette's worth of lines down as time goes on. Not if he wants to keep himself from laying out some actual honesty for everyone to read. Mina's entries will be weightier things, while she still has the capacity to write--carefully. Always carefully.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine helping Benn get away to see a 'friend'

Benn: *trying to slip off the ship during dinner for the third night in a row*

Shanks: *notices he's gone almost immediately* Where's Beck?

Lucky Roux: *counting the money Benn bribed him with to keep quiet* I dunno

Shanks: *Runs out on deck to find Benn trying to sneak over the side of the bot* Where we going?

Benn: we aren't going anywhere, I'm going to port by myself.

Shanks: You're leaving the crew! *Starts to tear up*

The crew: *piles out when they hear Shanks' caterwauling* You're leaving! Without even saying goodbye!

Benn: I'm just leaving for the night, not forever...*realizes no one is listening to him* oh my gods, FINE! Fine, I'm not going anywhere.

Crew: *cheers as they herd Benn back into the mess hall*

An hour later

Benn: *finally manages to claw his way out of the impromptu game night to take a breather out on deck*

You: *watches him lean on the railing, trying to light night cigarette* Need a light?

Benn: *jumps in surprise and drops his lighter into the bay* You scared the shit outta me!

You: *hands him your lighter and leans against the railing*, so why were you trying to sneak off?

Benn: what's it to you?

You: maybe I could help if you have a good reason.

Benn: I wanted to go see a friend I always hook up with when we make port here. She knows I'm a pirate, but not what crew I'm apart of.

You: and you don't want us to meet her? Are you shamed of us?

Benn: *no hesitation* very...Nah, nah, it's just she's a sweet gal and rather timid.

You: and you think she'll be scared off when she finds out you're the emotional support idiot to one of the four emperors?

Benn: yes...Wait, I'm no one's emotional support idiot.

You: In order to stop Shanks from pouting you had to let him curl up in your lap.

Benn: so?

You: You looked like you were burping him, like a baby, when he's a whole ass grown man.

Benn: *purses his lips because he knows you're right, so he elects not to respond*

You: Anyway, you want help sneaking out?

Benn: No offense rookie, but I don't think you can help me. They're a group of seasoned pirates, and you.... You've only been in this life for what? Three years?

You: You're forgetting that they're also just a bunch of dudes who are children at heart.

Benn: what are you getting at?

You: What I'm saying is sneaking out will cost you.

Benn: how much?

You: Take me shopping tomorrow and we'll find out.

The next night

Benn: There's no way this is gonna work.

You: Boys! Benn bought you some stuff! *Presents them with a 10,000 + piece Lego set of the Red Force (I'm making Legos cannon for a plot device), a dial set of Uta's newest album, and twenty barrels of booze*

The Crew: *move like a wave, taking up the gifts*

Shanks: What brought this on?

Benn: Just thought we could use a new activity for tonight, you've all been working so hard lately and all.

Thirty minutes later

The crew: *absorbed in sorting Lego pieces and reading the instruction manual*

Benn: *also absorbed*

You: *elbows him* aren't you trying to get laid?

Benn: but Legos.

You: You really gonna pick Legos over pussy?

Benn: but what if they finish it without me?

You: I'll make it have an accident, so they have to start all over. Now get out of here.

Benn: I can't believe that your plan worked.

You: yeah yeah, get outta here before they notice you're gone

Benn: You're the best *kisses your forehead and flings himself off the side of the ship*

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List of Up-and-coming works

[imagine-lcorp]

Having Arachnid Powers and Dating Lena Luthor Would Include...

Request

@sandwichitodemilanesa could you please write what would include dating lena, being a kind of spider woman? probably have gotten your power because of Lena's dad or brother experiments to make a superhuman but now you're trying to be a super friend and save the world . thanks  you so much <3

A/N: Hello y'all, sorry for being MIA, honestly adulthood is kinda sucking my soul, but as I've said before I'm still around. This time doing this little piece that was such fun honestly, also I love sandiwichitos de milanesa so I just couldn't ignore it. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Lena Luthor x Superhero Fem!R/Arachnid Powers/Word Count: 1,388

-------------------------------------------------------

Your story starting the first time Lena ever saw you, you were on the news, stopping a bank robbery.

You were using nothing but a black hoodie, grey pants, a ski mask, and a pair of worn out shoes, and had disappeared before Supergirl could arrive.

The cameras spotted you swinging your way out through the building of National City, using what at first she imagined were hook-shots.

Like the rest of the city, she started seeing you more often on the news with growing curiosity as you helped all citizens.

The news outlets trying to come up with names for you; "The Human Spider", "The Web Slinger", "The Wall Crawler", "Arachnid Woman".

Your first close encounter with Lena was during a supervillian attack on L-Corp. The top floors were crumbling while Supergirl was fighting and you appeared, saving all the people from the falling debris, including her.

You carried her in your arms as you used your webs to pull you down to the ground, keeping her safe but leaving before she could say anything.

She and the whole DEO searching for you after that, wanting to know who you were and where you came from.

Lena investigating you but coming to dead ends, trying to understand you and your powers from what she sees in the news and DEO reports.

Losing hope after many months only for you to swing to her office balcony one night as she looked down the city.

"I believe you and your friends have been looking for me."

"Mostly me, but yes."

"What for?"

"I wanted to thank you, for saving my life."

Distrusting Lena initially due to personal reasons and avoiding further contact but slowly getting used to her as you came to her aid several more times.

"We should stop meeting in life threatening situations, Miss Luthor."

"We certainly should, and I still don't know your name."

"I guess you can call me (Y/N), for now."

Warming up to her and even visiting her a few times at her office. Always reaching her floor by crawling on the side of her building or swinging with your webs to avoid being spotted.

You always work this late, Miss Luthor?

I could ask the same.

You know what they say, crime never sleeps.

Lena noticing more and more of how your powers work, even making you a suit to help you out, leaving it on her balcony with a little note after leaving early from work one day.

Smiling at the gesture and the news making noise about your new look the next day, giving you new superhero names and such.

Going to her office more often and starting to enjoy your small conversations with her and the balcony kind of becoming your meeting place.

Finally building enough trust to tell her who you were and explain how you got your powers.

Telling her you had been very sick, almost too far gone a few years back, when her brother offered you some sort of experimental treatment for your illness. You accepted and Lex brought you to Luthorcorp.

Little did you know, her brother had been running illegal and dangerous human experiments in there.

You had woken up in a cryosleep chamber years later in a secret facility, as you had been the only survivor of his experiments and the only one who seemed to assimilate your new given powers correctly.

"I had nothing and nowhere to go but I didn't want to use my powers to take advantage of people."

Lena offering you a place to stay and helping you go back on track with your life.

Supergirl and Alex also offering you a place in the DEO but refusing as places like that bring you bad memories but offering your help back in case they need it.

Having a bit of trouble adapting your new life with the superhero gig going on but Lena helping you as best as she can with everything you need.

"What if I say I need a million dollars?"

Lena discovering your funny dorky side.

Your relationship with Lena growing over time as she helps you settle as the newest heroine of National City.

Lena helping you design your supersuit and inventing new devices for you.

"I think I need to come up with a superhero name. People are starting to call me 'The Tarantula' and 'Black Widow'."

"Mmh, maybe you would like something more classic?"

"Like what?"

"How about… 'Arachne'?"

Her choosing your new name and going along with it.

Visiting her regularly when the city seems calmer and conversing for hours in her balcony.

Developing a soft spot for her and finally inviting her to move with you through the city.

"You know I have a driver and a car, right?"

"Swinging is faster, you can avoid a lot of traffic."

Lena actually enjoying the rides with you, although only the short ones.

Lena introducing you to the Superfriends.

"So, spider powers, uh? What's that exactly? Extra eyes? Extra legs? Can you stick to any surface?"

"No extra limbs as far as I'm aware…and I suppose I can stick to anything, uh, so far?"

"Cool. And the web, does it come from-?"

"Alex, stop."

"I'm just asking. What? As if you aren't curious too."

Lena helping you train and taking the chance to analyze and help you with your own powers.

She realizing she worries about you the more you get involved in fights to protect National City, particularly when Kara isn't in town.

She being the one to patch you up at your place when you don't want to stay at the DEO.

"You should see the other guy. The other guy, in this instance, being a killer croc."

Lena visiting your place and spending more time with you outside her office and the DEO.

Putting more attention to her and her safety when a fight or battle breaks lose.

Realizing after many of those you like her more than you think and going to her balcony one night to confess your feelings.

Lena admitting the same and being happy about it as you ask her to go on a date with you.

Spending your first date with Lena watching the sunset from the highest place of the city after a rooftop picnic.

Lena making sure to leave L-Corp early to spend more time with you.

Helping each other when there are criminals on the loose and being very protective of Lena if there's any after her.

Upside down kisses.

Taking her to dates by swinging around the city and her offering her limousine from time to time as a way to spoil you.

Making it official and the Superfriends being really supportive and happy for you.

Being awkward and nerdy around each other.

Very interesting moments in bed.

Grabbing food or coffee for her any chance you can so you can visit her at her office.

Dates on her office balcony also becoming a regular thing.

Sticking upside down out of her window and knocking at it at the end of her office hours to take her home.

Enjoying swinging around the city just to keep her clinging to you.

"You better hold on tight, spider-monkey."

"Is that a Twilight reference? I shouldn't have let Kara convince us to watch those."

Lots of game nights with the Superfriends and always teaming up with Lena.

Lena being your unofficial handler and she always being on your side whatever happens on your fights and missions.

You always supporting Lena and her ideas, but knowing when to call her out when things feel out of hand.

She doing the same with you, particularly when you feel responsible for everyone.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), sometimes the hardest thing about this is you can't always save everybody."

Hugs so tight and long they feel like home.

Leaving Lena huge messages around different spaces of the city written with your web. Mostly hearts with her initial in the middle.

Being really close and intimate on your alone moments.

Always coming to aid the Superfriends when they need you or teaming up with Alex and the DEO.

Lena spoiling you with new gadgets and even making you a new suit with nano-tech.

"Like Kara's, but way cooler."

"Oh yes, but don't let her hear you say that."

[kitchenisking]

September Fic Rec

History in these Streets by orphan_account - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,988, sterek)

Its Derek's birthday and now that Stiles doesn't have Malia, he misses Derek even more than before. Fortunately Braeden is back and gives him a way to contact Derek. In doing so however, old emotions resurface and grow as the two talk on the phone almost everyday. Derek says he probably won't come back though, and that hurts Stiles more than anything.

Or Stiles misses Derek so they talk on the phone but will Derek come home for him?

(We both failed each other in a way) by hellodickspeight - (Rating: T, Words: 742, sterek)

"Why are you laughing ?" he asks through his teeth.

"Are you actually hearing yourself ? Me, cheating on you ? That's like reverse day. If someone did the cheating, it would be you--""

In which Derek thinks Stiles is cheating on him.

Say You Love Me by sunnydalewerewolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,540, sterek)

“Say it,” Stiles repeats, kissing him on the lips again.

“If I say it too much it might lose its meaning,” Derek jokes.

“If you never say it at all it will definitely lose its meaning.”

Derek sighs. “Why don’t you say it?”

“I asked you first.” 

AKA: Stiles and Derek have sex and say I love you a bunch of times.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 17,389, sterek)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’

In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

No Stones in Heaven by DothTheRaven - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 9,652, sterek)

Derek knows the moment he meets eleven year-old Stiles that he’s found his mate. Of course he doesn’t tell the boy this, because he knows that would be creepy and would probably get him arrested. So he bides his time, and befriends the boy and falls in love and waits for the day when Stiles can be a part of his life, forever.

And really, in the end, it’s all Derek’s fault.

Stiles will become a more permanent part of Derek’s life, just not in the capacity he’s been hoping for. Not in the capacity he needs.

It’s because Derek wanted his privacy. It’s because Derek lied to his family. It’s because he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

It’s about happiness and sacrifices and loving your family and doing what’s right, even when it feels like the worst decision of your life.

The Same Old Blood Rush (With A New Touch) by rainsoakedshoes - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29,564, sterek)

“Friends with benefits,” Derek stated. “I just happen to be in a position to provide a few more benefits than your usual hook ups.”

***

Derek was an Alpha with a pack and a multi-billion dollar company to take care of. Stiles was a college kid with assignments and student debt to worry about. Neither of them were looking a serious relationship. A one night stand turned into an easy no-strings-attached arrangement. Although nothing is ever as easy or as simple as it first seems.

Cause I Built a Home (For You, For Me) by noneedforhystereks - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 59,719, sterek)

Mechanic!Derek and Daddy!Stiles

Derek Hale is a mechanic in the sleepy town of Beacon Hills, where he has lived all of his life. He spends his day in a simple routine: wake up, fix cars, go home, sleep. It's what he's good at, and it keeps things simple and uncomplicated. Derek doesn't let people in and remains emotionally distant from everyone except his sister, Laura, and her daughter. This all changes when Boyd tows in an old blue Jeep that needs a lot of work and Derek meets the owner of said Jeep.

Because once Derek meets Stiles and his kids, he can't stop himself from caring. And he doesn't want to stop.

my wings a hurricane by kellifer_fic  - (Rating: T, Words: 20,322, sterek)

Stiles had been like any other kid growing up in the era of dragons. He'd watched the cartoons, the news stories, had the lunch box. When his screening at Beacon Hills High had come up negative, he'd been disappointed but unsurprised. His positive results were returned three years too late for it to be in any way convenient or cool.

Or, the one where they ride dragons.

Becoming Yours by dbeaux - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 46,688, sterek)

As a dom and owner of Stockholm Syndrome, Stiles takes pride in providing a safe place for people to scene. After a bad breakup, he's not looking for a sub, isn't sure he wants a full time sub again.

College student and curious sub Derek needs a full time dom but hasn't found anyone willing to take him on so he spends as much time at Stockholm Syndrome as he can, pairing up with various doms willing to take him on for an evening.

When their worlds collide, can they find what they need in each other?

Beacon Hell by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,693, sterek)

It had been easier than he thought to talk himself into the field to save Derek's furry ass. The raid was over, and, hell, he couldn’t believe it went as well as it did. Stiles had lost his job, but they hadn’t sent him to some supernatural jail, so he would take his wins where he could. Except, Stiles wasn’t ready to go home. He’d just gotten away; he was free.

[say-al0e]

Home Run

Rating: PG-13 

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx​ and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)

Word Count: 9k (......sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

“What are you doing Saturday?”

Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.

Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”

“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”

With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.

“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”

Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”

The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.

A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.

“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”

Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head. 

Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.

Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.

“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”

Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”

The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”

“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”

A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”

The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully. 

“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”

“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.

“So am I, Angel.” 

Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.

The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.

Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.

Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.

And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.

Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.

Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.

Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.

“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”

While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover. 

But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.

If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.

Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”

“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”

The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”

“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”

Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.

Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.

Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.

As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.

While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.

No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.

When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.

Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.

The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.

With Bradley, there were never any expectations. 

Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.

There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.

Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”

A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”

A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.

The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.

Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.

“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged. 

Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.

The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.

That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”

Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”

There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”

“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.

“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”

“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”

Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”

Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.

This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.

The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.

Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.

Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.

Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top. 

While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.

Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.

“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”

With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.

The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.

When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.

Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”

“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.

As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”

“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”

“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”

“Straight up the middle.”

Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.

Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.” 

It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.

Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”

“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”

“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”

“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”

Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.

Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.

It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.

“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”

The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”

Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.

“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”

When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”

Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.

“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”

“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.

“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”

There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.

The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.

When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”

If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”

“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”

Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”

“Yeah, she is.”

Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind. 

It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.

There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.

Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.

“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”

The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.

Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. 

There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.

“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”

“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”

“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”

Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”

With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.

Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.

Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.

Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.

And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.

However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.

As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that. 

Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.

In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.

Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.

After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away. 

“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”

“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco. 

The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.

“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”

A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.

“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”

Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.

“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”

Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.

“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.

Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

“Why now?”

It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.

“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”

With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.

Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.

A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.

Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”

Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.

There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’

A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.

And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.

As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.

The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant.  He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​

[imaginecolby]

Friends with Benefits || Part One - The Hook Ups

your relationship with colby was nothing that you ever saw for yourself. you’d always imagined yourself with the perfect partner, getting married, starting a family, living in a beautiful home. never once did you ever imagine that you would’ve found yourself in a “situationship” of sorts, and especially not with someone who you briefly saw a future with.

you’d told colby about your feelings for him, but he was never sure that he saw himself committing to a relationship. he laid out boundaries for what he wanted, promising to not let it become anything more. you begrudgingly agreed to them, no matter how much you wanted something different. you just wanted anything. you just wanted him.

you never wanted to be a side piece, or a one night stand. you especially never wanted to be a “friend with benefits.” yet, that’s exactly where you found yourself. keeping your feelings at bay was hard at first, but you did it. you kept telling yourself over and over that this was something you wanted. 

"anything to be with colby in any capacity. regardless of the circumstances." was your motto at this point.

it started out as every once in a while, which then progressed to monthly, then weekly, and was now almost daily. your hookups were more frequent the more stressed out about work (or life in general) either of you were, and coming up on the end of the year, you both had pretty full plates. you were practically living with each other, with the number of nights you spent together. but the sex was great, and neither of you had any complaints.

"are we still on for tonight?" colby text you one afternoon. you were just getting off work, ready for the extended time off you were about to have. the holidays were coming up, and you’d been saving up your PTO to have a decent vacation.

"yeah! im on my way home now, if you wanna come over a little bit earlier." you replied.

"i just might. i had a terrible day today." he text back.

"alright, i’ll see you later."

once you got home, you showered and straightened up your living room and bedroom. colby text you once he arrived at your complex and was making his way upstairs. after you read his text, you went around and lit a few candles in your bedroom. just as you finished, you heard a knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his knuckles rapping against the door. you took a deep breath before moving to answer, concerned that you were as nervous as you were. you never had butterflies before when he’d come over. that can’t be good. 

you finally answered the door, colby leaning against the door frame. his eyes met yours and he flashed you a smile, and it took everything in you to not fall to the floor.

"hi." you said softly, inviting him in. he followed your instruction, and you watched as he placed bags on the counter.

"i brought us dinner. i figured we’d work up an appetite in no time." he said with a smirk, moving closer to you. his hands found their normal place on your hips, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. as your lips met, he let out a low moan. “mmm, i’ve missed you.” 

"it’s only been two days." you giggled as his lips traced down your neck. 

"two days too many." he said with a muffled voice. you leaned your head back, allowing for more space on your neck for colby’s lips to explore. you moaned softly as his lips reached your sweet spot, and he began sucking. you rolled your eyes, knowing he was going to leave a hickey, but you didn’t care. you were off for the next three weeks, and you were ready to let him leave marks all over you. his hands made their way down your back, stopping right in the middle. he pulled away from the kiss, and raised a brow at you.

"no bra? naughty girl." he said, his hands roaming up your shirt and stopping right at your breasts. the tips of his thumbs barely brushed against your nipples, but they sent a shock wave of pleasure up your spine.

"okay, i can’t wait any longer." you said with a sigh. you jumped into colby’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. his hands spread out across your ass, and he gave you a tight squeeze. he held you tight as he made his way to your bedroom, lips not leaving from yours as he moved. he laid you down on the bed and kissed you hard before standing up. you looked up at him with doe eyes, watching fondly as he undressed in front of you. he glanced around briefly, another smirk flashing across his face as he noticed the candles.

"nice touch." he huffed a laugh. before you had a chance to respond, his lips were against yours again.

in the moments that followed, everything was as perfect as it always was. the way your body meshed with colby’s was something more than you could’ve ever dreamed. he treated you as if you were a goddess in his hands, and you treated him the same. you both made sure that every need was met, and every inch of your bodies was taken care of.

colby’s hips began stuttering against you, telling you he was close to finishing. you were almost there yourself, so you began grinding against him.

cursing through gritted teeth, colby’s pace sped up the closer he got. with one final thrust, the two of you groaned in unison, your names leaving each other's lips in harmony. he collapsed on top of you as silence filled the room. you laid there quietly as you caught your breath, colby finally moving to lay next to you. you whined quietly as he pulled out, feeling empty.

colby spent the rest of the night with you, eating dinner, and just hanging out. it had been a long time since the two of you hung out as friends, given your arrangement, but this was a nice change from the norm. colby was someone that you'd always had strong feelings for, platonic and romantic. colby never alluded to having romantic feelings for you, but you would take the platonic ones for as long as you could.

[itsabouttimex2]

Here's a challenge: platonic x reader who hates monkeys with a passion (you could do it with phobia or irrational hatred). With Wukong, Macaque, and Mk.

Pithecophobia

Yandere MK, Sun Wukong, Macaque

(Fun fact 1- prunes are not their own fruit! They’re just dried plums.)

“I’m just saying,” he starts with a scoff, “it’s really silly that you’re expecting me to play along with this. Especially when I don’t get anything out of it.”

MK turns around to face the demon monkey, frowning. He folds his arms and walks backwards to keep eye contact, hoping that his mentor would watch his steps for him.

“Uh, you are getting something out of it, though? Y/N spent all day cooking for us so we could celebrate the new year together! They even made extra in case we wanted to bring someone else! That’s like… super nice of them!”

“Oh, I might get some maybe decent food, is that it? And all I’ve got to do is pretend to be a powerless mortal all the way through a probably mediocre dinner, huh? Just because this weird friend of yours is scared of monkeys?”

Sun Wukong; who had eyeing the sky for early fireworks more than he had been looking out for his student’s safety, finally chimed in. “To be fair, I think that mug of yours would scare anyone away!” A second later, he ducks down to avoid Macaque’s incoming tail, leaving MK to take the brunt of the relatively harmless blow.

MK stumbles backwards and almost into the street, only stopped when his mentor’s tail wraps around his waist and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Whoa,” the Great Sage mocks, setting MK safely back down, “someone’s in a bad mood today! Maybe… you’re just mad cause no one except us wanted you over for the new year?”

Macaque snarls and lunges at Wukong, ready to brawl. It’s only when MK swiftly moves to stand between them that the near fight is averted. “Guys, come on! Can’t you get along for just one day?!”

The “NO!” that they shout in perfect unison is just about what he was expecting, but he’s still a little disappointed about it. They both try to move past him to grab at one another, barely impeded by his physical position.

A thunderous bang echoes across the sky, a brilliant bloom of sparkling red painting the blue horizon. Macaque hisses and recoils, his arms quaking as he moves to clap his hands over his ears. At the exact same time, Wukong jumps up in delight, cheering and hollering at the sight. MK takes his chance to separate them, hooking his arm around Macaque’s, pulling the pained monkey demon along much quicker than he was moving before.

“Come on, come on! The food is gonna get cold if you two don’t hurry up! And! Y/N told me that there’s something special just for the two of you! Cause, y’know… when I asked if I could invite you both, they asked me what sort of stuff you liked, and I told ‘em about the whole ‘peaches and plums’ thing…”

Bringing up food seems to have been a decent enough distraction, as both of them choose to start moving along instead of fighting. Your house is already on the horizon. Now he just has to hope that another fight doesn’t break out between the rival demons.

As usual, life dashes his hopes of peace being anything more than a temporary lull.

“Yeah? Like how peaches are just about the best thing ever? And how everyone that isn’t crazy likes ‘em one way or another?”

“About how sweet-toothed meatheads can’t help but shovel them down whole? Those sort of people don’t have the brain to enjoy plums. Peaches are just sweet. Plums have a subtle astringent skin that mixes well with the flesh’s mellow sweetness.”

“Sure thing, old man. Go home and eat your prunes if ya like ‘em so much.”

“They are NOT-“

“Guys! We’re here!” Before they can argue any further, MK releases Macaque’s arm and rushes up to the door of your house. “Hurry up and come inside!”

He takes a moment to consider knocking, then grabs the doorknob and impatiently starts rattling it instead. To his delight, it’s already unlocked. A quick glance over his shoulder shows that both of his companions remain in their transformed state, tails safely tucked into their clothing.

He throws the door open and races inside, leaving the monkeys in the dust.

Just barely remembering to take off his shoes before he tears through the halls of your house without hesitation, he throws them aside near the door in a still-tied heap.

He follows a practiced path straight into the kitchen, finding you just as you remove a plate of pork-stuffed spring rolls from the oven. You set them down on the countertop to cool, then turn to face the very-expected intruder. You might’ve been surprised, if it wasn’t for his excited footsteps echoing through the house.

MK runs into your arms before you can even pull the oven mitts off, wrapping you up in a warm hug. For just a moment, it gives you the same feeling as coming home after a long day, cozy and inviting.

Then, his grip grows tight.

“I missed you,” he says, his voice quiet and low. “Invite me over more often. Or come to Pigsy’s and visit me, at least. Please.”

His grip tightens further.

And then he lets go of you, turning to face his two companions, neither of which you recognize. He waves them into the kitchen and moves to set the table.

Politely, you offer the first one your hand. He’s decked out in shining gold and exuberant red, like a brighter and flashier MK. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m glad you came to celebrate with me. Come and take a seat!”

He snags your hand between both of his own, giving it a firm pump. “It’s great to meet ya, bud! Thanks for having us!” He heads to the table and bounces on his heels, snatching up a seat for himself before anyone else gets the chance.

You smile and turn to MK’s other friend, the one dressed in a billowing black and red shroud that concealed most of his face and body. You offer him your hand as well.

He shrugs and walks right past you, sitting down at the opposite side of the table- probably to keep away from his colorful and loud companion.

MK frowns at his friend’s behavior, but turns back to you with a wide and rather forced smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just… not used to this.” His voice drops to a low whisper as he adds: “And his ears have been hurting all day. I think he’s getting grumpy.”

“I can hear you, kid,” the irritated man says from beneath his shroud. “There’s a reason that I’m called the S-”

“The SUPER SENSITIVE hearing guy, I know! The thing that all of your friends call you,” MK clumsily tries to lie, his ears and cheeks darkening to red with his poor attempt at deceiving you.

But before you can question him on it, his golden-clad friend pipes in with a snide: “He’s certainly sensitive, I’ll give him that.”

Outright chaos is only abated by the sharp click that sounds when you set a porcelain tray on the polished quartz surface of the table.

“MK told me about your favorite fruits, actually! So I stayed up late to make these for all of you,” you cheerily announce to the trio, lifting the delicate lid to reveal three plates of sticky-rice pudding. Each one is delicately drizzled with syrup sugar and studded in tiers with sweet fruits.

Your friend jumps forward, his palms hitting the table as he stares at you with wide-eyes. “Y/N! You made Eight Treasures Rice for us?!”

“Well, it’s more like ‘One Treasure Rice’, haha. It’s really only got the fruit in it, actually. I didn’t wanna put anything you guys didn’t like in there, so I decided to play it safe. I hope that’s not disappointing!”

“Not at all, bud! Not at all!” Several of his aureate accessories glint in the light as the man reaches eagerly for the peach-filled rice pudding.

You pass it to him with a smile, then give MK his own, stuffed full of tangerine slices. With only one left, you push the plum-packed dessert to the shrouded stranger, who seems to slightly brighten up at the sight of it.

Before anyone can say anything, you remove yourself from the table and hurry around the kitchen, gathering plates and utensils for the trio. You put them out quickly, then pile all the dishes you made in the morning onto the table.

“Good kid,” Wukong whispers to Macaque, picking bits of peach from the pudding as you arrange two plates of dumplings on the table. “And good food. Still regret coming, ‘Super Sensitive’?”

“…the kid’s alright. Jury’s still out on the food, though.” He pauses, taking a quick moment to think of something to criticize Wukong for. “And keep your tail under control. I can see the tip flicking back and forth in your pant leg.”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

A tray with a whole braised chicken is set between them, and a platter of steamed rice flour cakes after it. Finally, you take your own seat, next to the shrouded man and across from MK.

It strikes you then that you haven’t even learned the names of your guests.

“I’m Y/N, by the way! I’m sorry for not asking your names earlier! What should I call you?”

“The name’s Sun, bud! And that’s Mac, sitting in the edgy robe.”

“I like the robe,” you compliment politely, looking at the concealing garment. “The cloud embroidery is a nice touch.”

“It’s a cloak… and thanks.”

MK jumps forward in excitement and strikes his palms against the table, rattling the bowls and dishes.

“C‘mon! Let’s eat, everyone!

———————————————————————

“I think everything went well, today. You think so too, right?”

You set the knife down, turning to face ‘Sun’. As you cut up the leftovers, he’s sorting them into separate containers for everyone to take home. (And giving himself larger portions when you weren’t looking.)

“Definitely! I think my, uh… friend was pretty impressed. I hope we can do this again, Y/N! I don’t really have anything scheduled this time of year…like, ever.”

Except for watching fireworks from the top of his mountain, far away from company and civilization. Again and again, over and over, thinking only of his long-passed friends and companions.

“…we are going to do it again, right?”

“Oh, um, sure. I don’t see why not. My family doesn’t really come and visit, so I’ll probably have the house empty again next year. So, um… yes! I’d be happy to have you over!

He hums softly, nodding his head to your words.

“Sounds good, bud. I’ll be there. And… I’ll see if I can wrangle Mac into coming, too. Maybe just to see him jump at fireworks again, though.”

“He seemed interesting,” you graciously offer of the cloaked man, in spite of his admittedly poor behavior through dinner. “I enjoyed his stories.”

“Pfft! I could’ve told them better- I was there for most of them!”

“Well, the two of you should come again- MK seemed happy- more than usual, even. Honestly? I think he’s been stressed out lately… I’m glad he could have a day to relax. I really do need to visit him more often.”

“Huh. Guess it must be a little hard living so far from the city, bud. Any reason you’re this far out?”

“Oh, that’s… I inherited this house- and the orchard outside- from my parents, actually! I take a lot of pride in it, really. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the work is a little lonely.”

“…I think I will come visit, then. And I might sample a few of your fruits, too,” he teases, lightly elbowing your side. “You think you can handle that, bud?”

“…you know what, Sun?” Sun, what he had informed you his name was. It fits him well. He’s bright and exuberant, and never stops smiling. He seems like he’d be a good friend.

“That- that sounds really nice. Come by anytime you’d like.”

Your words sound kind right now. They feel right to say. The Great Sage thinks so too.

And he’s certainly not going to forget about them. Neither will Macaque, listening in from the shadows beside your tangerine trees.

Why would they ever let go of this kindness?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for choosing to spend Christmas with my girlfriend instead of my family?

I (22M) have been dating my current girlfriend H (22F) for a little over 5 months now. We met in college and were friends, hooked up a few times during school, but we weren't official until July this year. We don't live together, we currently live in different cities in the same state, and we see each other just about every weekend. Her family really likes me and always tells me how happy I make her.

Last weekend (the weekend before Christmas weekend, for context), while I was visiting her and her family, they were telling me about some sort of family tradition they have each Christmas, and they would really like me to be there if I didn't have any plans. I accepted immediately as I felt it was a good thing to do for H. Her entire extended family lives in her city, and H really wanted to introduce me to everyone since I wasn't able to be with her on Thanksgiving and she was upset (I was traveling to visit my extended family out of state).

Here is where I may be the AH. I originally had plans with my family for Christmas (meaning my parents and my twin sister). When I told my family that plans have changed and I'd be spending Christmas with H instead of them, they didn't take it well. Mostly my mother. I've heard my mother cuss at me almost every day since I broke the news. My sister and father didn't seem to be as upset, or at least they weren't verbally making it known to me, but I could tell they're disappointed every time I talked to them about Christmas.

I found out from my father today that my sister is more hurt about me not being there than she's been showing. She also lives away from home but in the same city, and apparently when she visited for dinner last night, she started sobbing about how selfish I'm being about "choosing a girl he hasn't even been dating for that long over family" and how "do our Christmas family traditions not matter to him anymore?" I thought my sister liked H, they seemed to get along well. My sister isn't replying to any of my messages and has canceled our usual gaming sessions until at least after the holidays. My father said that while he will support my choice, changing plans on such short noticed wasn't smart.

I feel bad about making my sister cry. I've been talking to my friends about it and while some are supporting me, most are saying I made an AH choice and I'm thinking with my dick especially because of the short amount of time we've been dating. One of them said that spending holidays with your GF's family is for long term relationships. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[bokettochild]

Today was weird O.o

So, @apparitianhanako and I went out shopping for some sister time, since we only get to hang out maybe once a month due to various reasons (adulting sucks). Anyways, we hit the mall in our town, which is mostly dead but gaining some life back because there's now actually a couple shops in the food court again (which was empty for years)

Well, what do you know, we're in line at the new smoothie place when the gal working the till pauses after we order, looks me dead and the eye and asks "are you (Legal Name)?"

I would like to note I have never, ever, in my life, met this woman. I am a homebody at best and a hermit at worst. My name and face are not associated with any of my social media except my Facebook, which is set to Private. I have no clue how this person knows my name and face! But, for lack of better to do in a public space with a small crowd standing around waiting for smoothies I say "yes?"

I think it's totally normal that I was confused, but she must have noticed and quickly said "I dated (ex-boyfriend) for a while".

And, okay, so we know the same guy and both dated him, makes sense. Thing is, I dated him four years ago, and barely have contact beyond the occasional "how are you?" or"happy birthday" or a passing "hello" at church, if that! Why would his most recent ex know anything about me? The dude has had a lot of girlfriends since we broke up!

Anyways, I still don't have any answers to that, or why she knew me by face, but Hanako ended up spilling (she's best friends with his little sister) that he's currently engaged, which made us both pause.

"He dated you how long ago?"

"A couple of months?"

Cue me losing my mind, because I have it on perfectly good authority that only a couple of months ago, he messaged my room-mate, trying to hook up with her (she's also one of my sisters) and they both almost went through with it except she got a bad feeling and called it off. (She did ask if I would hate her if she slept with my ex. I just said it would be weird but not the worst thing she could do and it didn't really matter to me)

Anyways, we put our three heads together, here in this smoothie shop order line, and work out that, apparently, he's been cheating on a good number of his girlfriends towards the ends of his relationships with them, and has also been cheating on his fiance!

Now, for the sake of that girl, I'm wishing I could say something to her, but I don't even know her name, much less how to get in touch to say "hey! I'm the ex he might have mentioned(?), and he tried sleeping with a gal I know a month or two ago, so, he might be cheating, just as a warning"

Like, that's a lot to tell a gal, but from a total stranger? About her fiance? Yeah.

Well, I can't do anything because I know nothing about the poor woman, but five hours later, the gal from the smoothie shop has apparently hunted me down on Facebook, and messages me saying 'thanks for opening my eyes to the guy I was dating. I realized none of his girlfriends deserved this, so, I'm going to reach out to the fiance and tell her he cheated on both her and me'

She then went on to say that he was apparently really oddly secretive about his family, church, and also told the girls he dated not to talk to me? (I broke up with him because life got hectic and I wasn't in a good space to be in a relationship with anyone, but we stayed on good terms) So...... that was weird.

Anyways, this feels a bit like a Carrie Underwood song, so I'm not sure what to do with that, so consider this a vent post of sorts LOL

[beautifulblooms]

Newt Scamander Headcanons (meeting him and falling in love, Male!Hogwarts! student edition)

So I finally had an idea and time to write, here's some headcanons I managed to scrounge together before the lack of motivation steals my ideas. This is a masc-aligned reader but no specific pronouns are used, I hope you all enjoy this!

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine-aligned, and male readers!

God, he’s adorable

Legit the sweetest person ever

And he absolutely loves you

He is quite utterly smitten with you

(For the sake of plot-) 

He met you at Hogwarts and has damn near been hooked since day one

During the sorting ceremony, hearing his name you couldn’t help but giggle

I mean, Newt is not exactly a common name, nor is the last name Scamander

But it was a rather respected name at Hogwarts given his older brother’s record as a prefect

For the entirety of your first year, you two were in every class together

Not just potions or beasts together

Every

Single

Class

Potions, beasts, defense against the dark arts, flying, magic history, herbology, charms, astronomy, and even transfiguration together

He would always pay the most attention in beasts and defense against the dark arts

While you could only pay attention to him

He always got so excited during beasts when the professor would pull out a new creature for everyone to meet and learn to take care of

And he was very good with them that the professor often gave extra points to Hufflepuff because they liked Newt so much

You were okay with beasts, nowhere as good as Newt but good enough for straight A’s in the class

Growing up together it was almost inevitable that you two fell for one another

Spending every class together in your first year, then more time outside of classes the next several

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t get the courage to ask you out

Any time he’d try he’d just get too nervous and start glancing at his feet and the walls before brushing it off

You of course were not going to give up on getting this man

Any time you had the opportunity, you’d flirt with him

It was always adorable how red his cheeks and ears would go when he’d realize what you were saying

Sometime in your 6th year there, you managed to get him to walk with you to the lake

Precisely one of the old Willows near it

“Newt, are you alright? You look a bit red in the face”

“Oh, um, yes I’m fine, just a bit cold out today, and I forgot my scarf in the dormitory”

“Here, have mine, you clearly need it more than I do” 

He didn’t even get a chance to protest before you wrapped it around his neck and made sure it was snug

“There we go, nice and warm”

He ducked his head into the scarf to “hide” his blush, although he did a poor job of it

“Thanks…why did you ask me to join you at the lake, it’s far too cold to go swimming”

Standing beside the tree you took a deep breath

“Well, I…I wanted to ask you something Newt”

He nodded his head and hummed in acknowledgment

“We’ve known each other since our first year, and you’ve always been a wonderful friend to me, but, I have realized that I like you more than just a friend… and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my boyfriend..”

He stood there wide-eyed and shocked, he never expected you to reciprocate his feelings, let alone confess first

However, his reaction made you start to think he didn’t like you back and you immediately began to back-peddle the conversation

“Well of course you don’t have to say yes and if you’re uncomfortable knowing that and being friends with a queer like me you can leave and never look back, only makes sen-”

He cut you off before you could continue rambling by pulling your face to his and kissing you

Now it was your turn to be shocked

Unsure of what to do, New pulled back and started to pull away from you, worried he went too far

Only to get pulled back in seconds when you processed what was going on, kissing him back and much better this time

From that day forward, you two somehow became even more inseparable

I’m sure Theseus was tired of hearing about how much Newt loved you and missed you by the end of the summer between your 6th and 7th year

Good thing that he didn’t have to go back and deal with it all in person

Some of those Hufflepuff students have seen much more than they bargained for

[sequinsmile-x]

300 - Part 2 - Emily & Aaron

Emily, Aaron and their love as observed by their friends.

AKA - the five times the team see them love each other, and the one time they don't even try to hide it.

My 300th Hotchniss fic

Part 2/2

-x-

Hi friends,

Thank you so much for the love on Part 1 - it genuinely means the world to me. I would write you all 1000 Hotchniss fics (and lets be real i'm 1/3 of the way there).

As ever your support means the world to me, and I hope you like this part 2 of our idiots just being hopelessly, completely in love with each other.

-x-

Words: 4.2k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron & Emily

She wakes up slowly, her senses kicking in one by one as she blearily blinks and groans, pressing her face into Aaron’s chest as she snuggles deeper into his embrace. He chuckles against her hairline and runs his hand up and down her back, his palm sneaking under her t-shirt, his t-shirt, to press his skin against hers. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gravelly, thick with sleep. She loved his voice in the morning, loved that it was somehow deeper than normal, that it was something just for her. She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, her eyes meeting his through heavy eyelids as she places her hand on his cheek and drags him in for a kiss. 

“Morning,” she mutters against his lips, kissing him again, “What time is it?” 

He looks at his watch and fights a yawn as he places his hand on her back again, “Almost 8 am.” 

She groans and presses her face into his neck, untangling her leg from between his to hook it over his hip so she can get closer, “Before you, I used to sleep in,” she grumbles, kissing his jaw, “I just had to fall in love with a morning person.” 

He suppresses a laugh, well aware from experience that even in a half-asleep state she’d be mad at him if she thought he was making fun of her, “It’s worth it though, right?” 

She hums and nods against him, tilting her head back to look at him. She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling to herself when it flops back into position, “Totally worth it.” 

They’d been together for just over a year and she struggled to remember how it felt to live without love like this. It was all-encompassing, the kind of thing she’d only ever read about before him, what she’d once believed only existed in romance novels she’d indulge in when on vacation. He and Jack were everything. Her Hotchner boys filling gaps in her chest she hadn’t known existed, all three of them helping each other heal from the things they had been through. She loved them so much that it scared her at times, her happiness so reliant on them that she worried about them constantly, anything as small as a scratch on either of them enough to make her panic. 

It was a price worth paying, she thought. The love, joy and happiness far outweighing the pain that inevitably came with loving someone. 

“Good to know,” he replies wryly, cupping the back of her head to hold her in place as he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

She smiles softly at him, resting her head on his shoulder as she yawns. He starts to run his hand up and down her back again and she knows if he carries on she’ll fall asleep, “Can we just stay here all day? For someone who has moved as often as I have, I’m exhausted.” 

He’d asked her to move in with him months ago, not too long after they told the team about them, but after a long discussion, they’d decided to find somewhere new. To buy a house for them and Jack and whoever may come along in the future. To create a home that neither of them had been a part of in a long time, or in her case - ever. It had taken a long time to find somewhere that felt perfect for them, somewhere that they could see themselves spending the rest of their lives. 

They’d only just moved in a few weeks ago, the last of the boxes from their old places now in the house. They were slowly unpacking. Their bedroom and Jack’s were sorted, as were the kitchen and the living room, but the dining table still hadn’t been delivered, the home office was just full of boxes. She knew they had to finish unpacking, but she wanted to leave it for a day and spend some time relaxing with her boyfriend. 

He looks down at her, and he blows out a slow breath, making sure to school his features before she looks at him, “Actually, sweetheart, I have to go into the office for a little bit this afternoon.” 

She scoffs and shifts to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh, why?” 

He pushes some of her hair from her forehead, “Strauss.” 

She rolls her eyes and rests her head back on his shoulder, “Well what am I supposed to do?” She asks, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers together, “You’ll be at work, Jack is with Jess. I’ll be here all by myself.” 

She used to treasure her alone time, used to pride herself on the fact she was good at being alone, but she couldn’t be anymore. Even though they’d only just officially moved in together she couldn’t remember the last time she spent a night apart from him. She didn’t like being alone anymore, it was too quiet when Aaron wasn’t next to her, tapping his fingers on her thigh as he read a case file, or when she couldn’t hear Jack’s cartoons from the next room when she was in the kitchen. 

He smiles, pressing his thumb to the slight pout of her lower lip, “Why don’t you call JJ? See if she’s free.” 

She hums and nods, “Yeah, I’ll do that. Will is working today so she’ll be free,” she smiles, kissing his thumb, “I can get in some Henry cuddles,” she kisses his thumb again, “You’ll come home as soon as you can though?”

He nods and leans in to kiss her, his smile pressed against her lips, “I’ll always come straight home to you.” ___

Aaron 

He feels the nerves bubbling in his chest as soon as he steps into the bullpen.

He gives himself a moment to himself, knowing it will be the last one he has all day, before he pushes open the glass door and smiles as his friends look up.

“I’d about time you showed up,” Dave grumbles, raising his eyebrow at him as he places a box of candles down on Emily’s desk, “You’re the one proposing and you’re the last one here.” 

Aaron can’t help but smile, the ring box in his pocket suddenly seeming slightly heavier as he thinks about it. He’d had this planned for weeks, every detail something he’d agonised over, second guessing himself over whether he’d made the right decision in how he was going to ask Emily to marry him. They’d discussed marriage, so she knew it was coming at some point, but he still wanted to surprise her. It’s why he’d got the team involved, his uncharacteristic request for help with something personal had piqued their interest immediately. Penelope had been close to giddy, so excited he’d had to ask her to calm down so Emily didn’t hear her. 

“We were running a little late this morning,” he says, “JJ said she’d keep Emily busy for as long as we needed her to.” 

“How come JJ gets to go shopping as part of this,” Derek says, raising his eyebrow as he tilts his head towards the box of rose petals he had on his desk, “And I’m on rose petal duty?” 

Dave rolls his eyes, “Because it wouldn’t be believable if you asked her to go to the mall with you, Morgan.” 

Derek sticks his tongue out at him and Penelope scoffs, a clipboard in her hand with a to-do list she had printed out herself, “We don’t have time for you to act like children,” she says, shaking her head, “Rossi - candles, Derek - rose petals.” 

“What am I here for?” Spencer asks, putting his hand up, his lips pressed together, his amusement slowly fading as Penelope glares at him. 

“To help where it’s needed, genius,” she replies, looking back and forth between her list and the rest of them, “Well come on. We don’t have forever and I won’t let you ruin this for me.” 

Aaron clears his throat and raises his eyebrow at her, “Garcia, I think you mean you won’t let them ruin this for me and Emily?” 

She waves at him dismissively, “That too,” she says, “Now you just need to go to your office and set it up.”

He suppresses a smile and nods, catching Dave’s eye as he salutes her, “Yes ma’am.” 

He walks up to his office, the din of the team's conversation fading away as he closes the door behind him, taking a breath to centre himself as soon as he is alone. 

This was the place where he’d met Emily, where their paths had crossed and their lives had started to intertwine in a way he never could have anticipated. He’d been attracted to her immediately, her beauty undeniable even then. He never could have known that he’d one day know her as he did, that he’d know she had a patch of freckles on her shoulder that bloomed every summer, or that her skin always smelt faintly of vanilla. That her embrace was one of the few places he’d one day find safety. Home a place he found somewhere between her collarbone and her shoulder. 

He wished he could have been nicer to her when they first met, that he could go back and tell himself he was talking to the woman who would end up being the love of his life, but he knew everything happened as it should have. That they could never trust each other as much as they did now without that initial distrust and what it had led them to, a flight to Milwaukee just the two of them forging a friendship that would one day turn into so much more. 

She always said that he liked to rewrite their history, that he liked to underplay just how little he trusted her at first, but it was true. He’d been attracted to her the moment they met. Her smile and firm handshake, the way her eyes sparkled in a way he now knew covered the trauma she’d just been through in a job that wasn’t on her official record, had drawn him in. Like a moth to a flame as his marriage crumbled around him, the very thought of Emily enough to make him angry at himself. Pouring gasoline on the flame of guilt that climbed up his throat during every disagreement with Haley, something that had only got worse as time went on. 

When he met Emily he never could have known how important she’d come to be to him, how integral to his and his sons’ lives she’d become, and now he couldn’t imagine life without her. She’d helped put him back together, something she seemingly never tired of, picking up the pieces again and again when old demons came out of the shadows. He did the same for her, being the strength she needed when it all seemed too much. It was something he felt privileged to do, to be the person she let past the barriers she had built around herself long before they had ever met. 

He was excited to spend the rest of his life with her, to make the house they’d just moved into a home. To raise Jack and hopefully a couple more kids with her. To kiss her every morning, to let her know that she was loved every day. Even though they’d talked about marriage, and he knew it was something they both wanted, he could still feel nerves rolling through his gut. Excitement at the prospect of forever with her fizzing under his skin. 

He smiles to himself as he approaches his desk and he pulls the ring box out of his pocket and places it down, his fingers lingering on the velvet. 

This is where he met her, and it was where he’d ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.

___

Emily

“Aunt Emily!” 

She turns at the sound of Henry’s voice and she smiles, opening her arms and crouching down as the 5-year-old races towards her, leaving JJ behind. She scoops him up into her arms and rests him on her hip, pressing a kiss to his head as he wraps his arms around her neck.

“Hi buddy,” she says, kissing his head again and chuckling as JJ finally makes it to their side, “You already wearing Mommy out?” 

“He sure is,” JJ says, placing her hand on Henry’s head for a moment, ruffling his hair, “You know not to run away from Mommy.”

He shrugs and leans in further to Emily, “But I saw Aunt Emmy.” 

Emily and JJ exchange a quick smile and she tilts her head to look at the little boy in her arms, “I would have waited, honey. No need to run,” she says, adjusting her hold on him slightly as she looks back at her friend, “So, what stores did you need to go to?” 

Something close to panic flashes through JJ’s eyes only for a second, her smile tight as she shrugs, “Oh, nowhere in particular,” she says, “Did you need to go somewhere?” 

Emily narrows her eyes slightly, and almost reminds her friend that she was the one who said she needed to go to the mall, and that she was only tagging along because she was home alone, but she lets it slide. She clears her throat and shrugs, turning her attention to Henry, bouncing him in her embrace. 

“Well, I promised Jack some new Legos, so do you want to help me pick some out?” 

Henry’s face lights up and he nods enthusiastically, “Legos!” 

JJ laughs and starts leading the way, “The Lego store it is.” 

Henry convinces her that Jack needs two new Lego sets and she can’t help but shake her head at herself as she pays. She was a pushover when it came to Henry and Jack, and she knew she would be for her future children too. It was something Aaron always gently made fun of her for, a loving smile on his face as he said he would have to be the disciplinarian at work and at home, as if he wasn’t also wrapped around Jack’s finger.  It would always warm her from the inside out when she thought about their future, the future she would have once thought was nothing but a fantasy bright and real right in front of her. 

When she was in Paris, dead to almost everyone, a life like this had seemed impossible to consider. A fantasy she’d run through every night to chase her nightmares away as she lay in bed and tried to sleep. She already knew she loved Aaron by that point, feelings she could no longer deny bursting free from where she’d buried them deep in her chest at the thought of never seeing him again. Even when she came home she had thought it would never happen, that she was simply too damaged to be with him. He’d been hurt so much already and she didn’t want to add to that, didn’t want her scars to stick to his, pulling them into each other in a way that was unhealthy. 

The first time they kissed it was like the world had restarted, even though she wasn’t aware it had stopped. Everything shifted in a moment, all the things she had once believed she would never get to experience suddenly within reach. They made each other better, loved every single thing about each other, especially the broken parts, and every day she woke up hoping to make him feel even half as loved as he made her feel. It was a privilege to be loved by him, to love him back, and she would happily go through everything all over again just to make it right to this point. 

“Do you want to go and get something to eat?” JJ asks after they’ve been wandering around for a while, Henry’s hand firmly in Emily’s and she feels her stomach roll at the thought and she shakes her head.

“I’m okay,” she replies, turning her nose up at the mere idea of the smell of the food court, “You two can go get something to eat if you want,” she says, checking her watch, “Aaron will probably be on the way home soon anyway, so I could just head-”

“No,” JJ says, cutting over her as she checks her own watch, “It was just an idea I’m not hungry,” she adds before blowing out a breath, “Why don’t we just do a little more shopping? Surely you need some things for the house?” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her friend but nods, “Okay, sure. We still need some things for the dining room.” 

“Perfect,” JJ says, smiling as she nods in the direction of the home goods store, “Let's go.” 

She looks down at Henry as they follow JJ, “Your Mommy is in a weird mood today, honey.” 

Later, when she looked back on it she’d realise just how many signs she missed, JJ’s slightly odd behaviour suddenly making sense, but she willingly follows her friend around the mall. 

And she doesn’t question when JJ suggests they drop by the office, she simply nods and agrees, excited at the prospect of seeing Aaron. 

___

Aaron & Emily

She can tell something is different the moment she gets into the office. The usual hustle and bustle that she’d feel here, even on a weekend, is missing. It feels almost peaceful, calm in a way that makes her curious. 

She stops on the spot the moment the bullpen is in view. There are no lights on, but there are candles everywhere, leading from the glass doors, past her desk and up the stairs, to Aaron’s office a path laid with rose petals that makes her breath catch in her chest. She knows what is happening, her stomach flipping as she blows out a shaky breath, tears already pressing at the back of her eyes. She looks up at Aaron’s office, the open door a calling card she can’t ignore, and she’s moving before she can think about it, as if her body was pulled towards him. 

She places her hand over her mouth as she steps into his office, a sob catching on every rib as she tries to force it down. There were more candles, more rose petals, and most importantly - him. He was standing in the middle of the room, wearing a suit he hadn’t been wearing when he left home earlier that afternoon, a nervous smile on his face. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, his voice shaking a little. He wasn’t nervous anymore, not now he was looking at her, but he was overwhelmed, almost bowled over by his love for her. 

“Hi,” she gasps, her hand landing on her chest as she looks around, shaking her head slightly, “Now I see why JJ told me to go ahead when we got here.” 

He chuckles and nods, “The others are all here too,” he says, his smile widening when her mouth falls open slightly, “They are in the conference room waiting. I think Dave locked them in so Penelope wouldn’t come rushing out here.” 

She chuckles but it’s wet, catching on to the built-up emotion in her chest, “Well,” she says, wiping a tear from her lashline as it falls, “We better not keep them waiting.” 

He steps towards her and kneels on the ground, his hand reaching out for hers. She sucks in a breath, desperate to stop herself from crying, but she knows it’s useless, that she was a lost cause the moment she stepped into his office. 

“Emily, sweetheart,” he says, clearing his throat to steady his voice, increasing his grip on her hand, “This is the place that we met. And, no matter how much I wish I could say I was polite to you that day,” he says, and both of them chuckle, “I wouldn’t change anything. Because otherwise we might not be here, and that seems like an impossible thought. You’ve changed me for the better, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, happier than I thought I deserved.” 

She shushes him, shaking her head at the self-depreciation, “You deserve everything.” 

He kisses her knuckles before he carries on, pressing his love directly onto her skin, “I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me,” he says, briefly letting go of her hand to pull the ring box out of his pocket. She gasps as he opens it, the ring exactly what she would have chosen for herself, a pear-shaped diamond set back into the band, something she could wear at work without worrying about it catching on something, “Emily, will you marry me?”

She’s nodding before he’s even finished asking the question, her answer coming out as a sob, “Yes. Of course, I will.” 

He slips the ring onto her finger and she doesn’t give him the chance to even try to stand up, already kneeling down in front of him as she presses a fierce kiss to his lips, her arms tight around the back of his neck. She pulls back from the kiss and hugs him tightly, an embrace he returns with just as much love, and she buries her face in his neck. 

“I love you so fucking much,” she says, her words muffled against his skin. He turns his head to kiss her, his lips catching her ear and he runs his hand up and down her back. 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you so much.” 

She chokes on a sob as she pulls back, taking a moment to look at her hand, to get used to the weight of the ring, the feel of the metal against her skin, and then she looks around the room, shaking her head at him, “You did all of this for me?” 

He cups her cheek and makes her look at him, his smile soft and his eyes shining as they meet hers, “I’d do anything for you,” he replies, leaning forward and stamping his lips against hers, “It wasn’t too much was it?”

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through his hair, “It was perfect,” she says, scratching at his scalp, “So perfect,” she kisses him, resting her forehead against his as she pulls away, “Thank you for asking me.”

He smiles and rubs his nose against hers, taking a moment to breathe her in, to enjoy this moment of the two of them alone, kneeling on the floor of his office, before they went to see their friends a few rooms down the hall to celebrate. 

“Thank you for saying yes.” 

She hums and pulls back to look at him, wiping a stray tear from his cheek, “There was never any other answer.” 

They stay kneeling like that for a while, huddled together on the floor as they exchange kisses and ‘I love yous’, lost in their own world. Eventually, he pulls back from her, standing up and purposely ignoring the mischievous tint to her smile when his knees pop. He offers her a hand and helps her up.

“As much as I would love to stay in here all night,” he says, wrapping his arm around her waist, “I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough. Penelope’s excitement is probably outshining Jack’s.”

“Jack is here?” She asks excitedly, looking forward to seeing the little boy.

Aaron nods and places his hand on the small of her back, a space that seemed to have been carved out perfectly to fit his palm, “Who do you think helped me pick out the ring?” 

She presses her lips together in a failed attempt to stop herself from smiling, her cheeks aching with happiness as she shakes her head at him, “Have I mentioned that I love you?” 

He shrugs playfully, “It’s come up,” he stamps a kiss against her lips and links his hand through hers, ready to lead her towards the conference room, “Come on, Dave bought the best champagne money can buy.” 

She bites her lip and stays still, tugging on his arm as he tries to walk away. Nervous excitement bubbles in her chest, and whilst this hadn’t been the way she’d planned to tell him, she knew it was the perfect way. 

“I can’t have any champagne,” she says coyly, her eyes fixed on his as he furrows his brow, “Not for the next several months.” 

His eyes go wide as it clicks into place, and the laugh that escapes him is full of wonder and joy. He scoops her up into his arms, holding her so tightly her feet leave the ground. 

When the rest of the team hears the joyful laughter from a few rooms down the hall, they pop the champagne, all pleased with their involvement in what they assume their friends are celebrating. 

-x-

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[imagintheworldaway]

Moral of the story PT2

the long awaited sequel !

read part one here!

requests are open

Scrolling TikTok was usually a bit of a break for me. I had just finished filming a video with Lux and I was taking a break before I had a shower to scrub off my makeup and have a little self care evening. Everything was sweetly mind-numbing until a clip caught my eye. I turned up the volume as I saw an original clip from Harry and Is Vegas wedding. It was the clip of us leaving the chapel, me in my short baby doll white dress and veil longer than my actual dress, and Harry in a tieless suit with his top buttons undone. We were only teens in this clip, back when it was us two against the world. The clip cut and I saw Harry on screen. “It’s the hardest thing to talk about really” He said and then it cut to Ethan. “They were so in love, we were jealous, not only was it great content but it was so real” the screen then cut back to Harry. “What happened?” a voice said from behind the camera. “I don't know, she obviously wasn't happy, it broke my heart, i loved her, and she just threw it all the way, like it was nothing, like, how can you be so horrible, cruel, i-” Harry had started rambling before catching his tongue and the clip swapped back to SImon “she truly broke his heart, it hurt all of us” he said looking into the camera. And that's where the clip ended, and my rage started. Yes I asked for the divorce, but how was he not happy? How can he lie about me like that? None of them ever reached out to me, asking if I was ok, how the hell dare they. It had been over three years, the divorce was over and done with, we had talked through it so many times, we had talked to our friends, addressed the fans, even appeared together a handful of times in different videos. I thought we were all finally in a good place again. Obviously I was wrong.

The day was as bleak as my mood. I felt bad for anyone that saw me as I was contemplating murder right now. All I could see was red, and there was only one man I was going to aim this anger at. I had rang Talia and she had told me that the boys were filming at a studio I was all too familiar with. It was only a short walk from where I lived, I quickly turned my anger into determination as I mapped the streets in my head and my muscle memory almost flew me to the warehouse. I stormed through the door, I couldn’t care less if they were in the middle of a shoot. I had a score to settle. 

I stormed through, past the crew, people tried to stop me but no one had the chance. I stopped abruptly on the set but not quite in front of the cameras. They were shooting some type of game show but my rage just intensified when I saw my target. “You fucking arsehole” I shouted, my fists balled at my sides as I stood staring down my target. Everyone went silent and looked at me, most faces in pure shock to even see me. “Say something you twat, or did you say it all in your stupid fucking documentary” I spat in Harry’s direction. “Uh- I-“ he stuttered. I just stood there, staring daggers.

No one said anything, just watched like an old western movie, two people in a standoff. “I’m not leaving until I have answers, so keep staring” I said through gritted teeth. “Uh take five everyone” I heard Kon say somewhere to my left. Everyone stayed still for a moment, no one wanting to move first, before the crew started busying themselves and the other boys just stood there stunned. I waited as Harry took his time to walk over to me. “Can we do this outside? '' he said, not looking at me. “So chat shit about me to the entire world but can’t sort it in front of your mates, spineless dick” I snapped, “oh and none of you are off the hook either” i spat pointing my finger at all the boys. I grabbed Harry's forearm, spinning around and walking to the door. 

“Y/N I-“ he started before crumpling under my stare. “You what Harry? Thought you’d save yourself by slandering me?” I said “look at me, Atleast give me that” I said my voice faltering. “I thought we were cool, i thought you understood, i thought we had all figured this out” i had pleaded with him. “I didn't mean for it to come off like that” he sighed, “then what? How did you mean for it to come off, cause I've had so much hate already, I don't know if I can go through all of this again "I said, slinking back into myself a little. “Come on, I love you Y/N” he said, his voice strained as he reached for my arm. I jerked back, almost instinctively for a moment, seeing the hurt wash across his face as I let my emotions run free. “No, no, no. You do not deserve to say that to me” I seethed, starting to feel the tears prick at the corner of my eyes. “You hurt me” I spat, pointing my finger accusingly at Harry. He looked lost like a little puppy, and if I was still the woman he had married, I would have crumbled, apologised, and comforted him, telling him it was ok and we can forget this ever happened. But this time I cannot forget. “And you didn't hurt me?” he quipped back. “I never said i didn’t, the difference is you care so much about what your friends and fans think about you, about us, that it's easier to slander me just to make yourself out to be the good guy” the tears had slowed down now, but i can already guarantee my makeup is fully fucked. 

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I gathered myself. “I loved you Harry, so fucking much. I thought you were it for me, you were my forever, but this, it turned so toxic, it turned into pleasing everyone but ourselves. And the fact that you still can't see that all these years later. Well, you need to let go, "I said, trying to get through to him. “And then what? I lose you forever?” He sounded so desperate and so unsure. “I don't know, but you need to let go, neither of us can grow if you don't” I almost pleaded with him. “Fine, i’ll try, but this won't happen overnight,” he sighed. “I know that, but please, if you really do still love me, try” it wasn’t a lot, but for now, these words will have to do. I quickly composed myself, turning back to a stoic version of myself, putting my guard back up “Just know, if you ever pull anything like that again, i will air all of our dirty laundry”

[ukrfeminism]

‘What’s the worst that can happen?” That is what Georgia Harrison asked herself one Sunday morning in August 2020 when Stephen Bear, who lived opposite, invited her over for a cup of tea. They knew each other through the reality television and influencer circuits. She had been on The Only Way Is Essex (Towie) and Love Island; he had done Shipwrecked, Ex on the Beach, then won Celebrity Big Brother. They had hooked up before and he hadn’t treated her well.

“We’d been in lockdown and I was definitely quite lonely, feeling quite rubbish about myself,” says Harrison, 28. “I knew that going to Bear’s was a bad idea – there were two voices in my head. In the end, I thought: what’s the worst that could happen? Well, now we know.”

What happened was this: the morning cup of tea stretched into a long lunch washed down by tequila, followed by drunken sex in Bear’s back garden. The sex was different from how it had been in the past – more performative, with Bear carefully positioning Harrison in various locations. “It was more dramatic and lasted longer,” says Harrison. “I just thought he was having a good day.” Afterwards, to Harrison’s horror, Bear mentioned casually that it might have been caught on his CCTV system. When he showed her the footage and she began to cry (“I’ll die if anyone sees it,” she said), he promised to delete the video. Instead, three months later, Bear posted the footage on his verified Only Fans account. Within days, it was all over the internet, including the website Pornhub. “Georgia Harrison sex tape” had become a top search on Google.

Harrison found out when a fan in the US sent her a screenshot asking: “Have you seen this?” Her reaction was to gag. But she picked herself up and went to the police. Bear was arrested, charged and convicted. In March 2023, he was sentenced to 21 months in prison for voyeurism and sharing private sexual photographs and films with intent to cause distress. Now, she has written a memoir about it, Taking Back My Power.

It is hard to overstate the impact of this case. Most victims of intimate image abuse never report the crime. They are teenagers too terrified of their parents’ reactions, professionals who fear for their careers, parents who don’t want their children or partner to know, or anyone else who can’t face walking into a police station armed with a link to Pornhub. Of those who do come forward, only about 4% will ever see a charge; a prison sentence is rarer still.

Bear’s case – on the news, in headlines, all over social media – sent a message of hope to victims of this sort of abuse and a warning shot to potential perpetrators. There was a 56% rise in calls to the government’s “revenge porn” helpline in the month he was sentenced. Harrison didn’t stop there, though. She lobbied parliament to demand better laws around “revenge porn” and helped to secure amendments to the online safety bill that make the crime easier to prosecute. She is still campaigning for platforms that carry the footage of her and Bear to be held criminally accountable.

It is certainly not the life or career she had in mind when she left school at 16, the only child of a single mother, already intent on reality TV stardom. “I grew up in Essex and a lot of my friends were on Towie, so that’s what I wanted to reach for,” she says. “It was the idea of literally getting paid for doing photoshoots, partying and having some fun in all these mad countries and bars.” At 19, she did get on Towie; a few years later, she was on Love Island. She built a career as an influencer and was able to buy a flat in Essex at 21. Was it all she had hoped for? “Actually, it was even better,” she says.

Although she and Bear were neighbours, Harrison didn’t get to know him until October 2018, when they were cast in The Challenge, an MTV reality show. By then, the former roofer had built a TV reputation as a bit of a player, a “lovable rogue”. They got together during filming, but when the show finished, Bear went back to womanising. Shortly afterwards, they starred in the sequel and got together again. This time, though, Harrison says, he locked her out of their hotel room to sleep with someone else.

The next time Harrison saw Bear was in August 2020, when he invited her over for that cup of tea and secretly filmed them having sex. Afterwards, she felt certain he had planned it. “We’d been in every angle that his CCTV covered,” she says. “He’d made sure we were never outside the lines.” Even so, she didn’t see what lay ahead. “I was really upset and he seemed to understand. I never for a second thought he’d be stupid enough to send it to people. I hoped he had some form of respect for me, but I also thought he wouldn’t want to ruin his entire career or end up in prison. I just didn’t think he was capable of what he was capable of.”

In the days after, Harrison messaged Bear asking him to promise he wouldn’t do anything with the video. He assured her that he had deleted it. It was December when she received the screenshot from a fan in the US. “That’s when I knew it was global,” she says. “One of my first thoughts was: it’s time to tell my family. My mum knew already, but I needed to have the conversations with my dad, my uncle – the male figures, I guess – so they knew it was coming.” In fact, her uncle knew already; he had been sent the video by someone who didn’t realise Harrison was his niece. “They were all horrified, but supportive,” she says. “I was an adult having sex – they told me I’d done nothing to be ashamed of.”

She knew that, but shame still hit in waves. “It went so horrifically viral; my postman’s probably seen it,” she says. “It’s that feeling that I’d let myself down, let my family down, that I should have seen it coming and how could I have been so stupid?” Her influencer work went into freefall. Any post on any product would be flooded with comments about the video (“Congrats hon, you’re a porn star now!”). “There were so many other influencers – same amount of followers, been on Love Island, same calibre – who didn’t have a sex scandal. Why put me next to their brand?” She rented out her flat – for income and because she was terrified of seeing Bear – and moved in with her mum.

“I don’t think I’ve admitted to myself how bad my anxiety was until now,” she says. “I wouldn’t be able to go to the gym on my own, or I’d get in and feel everyone was looking at me and have to leave. I barely left the house and when I did it was really hard not to panic. It got to the point where I only wanted to be around my closest friends.”

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Harrison reported Bear, who was arrested in January 2021 and charged four months later. There was an 18-month wait for the trial. Harrison’s life was on hold. She knew she had a strong case – she had been filmed without her knowledge and had sent multiple messages to Bear begging him not to share it – but she dreaded a “not guilty” verdict. The Bear she knew, the Bear who had won Celebrity Big Brother, was a charmer. He could win hearts, talk you round.

“If he was found not guilty, I think I would have had to shave my head and move to Bolivia or something,” she says. “The career I love would have been over – that’s definite. But aside from that, my faith in the universe would have been so shattered. It would have drained all the hope and faith and love and life out of me. To see someone act in such an awful, evil, manipulative way and then walk away … I felt it might just ruin me – and it seemed possible. Bear could play things so brilliantly. I don’t know why he decided not to.”

Bear’s behaviour before and during the trial probably sealed his sentence. He uploaded X-rated videos of him and his girlfriend to the internet, captioning one: “At least she knows I’m filming her.” In another video posted just before the trial, the couple cavorted in orange prison jumpsuits. He ran a Twitter poll on what colour of suit he should wear to court – and turned up in a rented Rolls-Royce, dressed in pink and a huge fur coat, carrying a cane topped with a gold snake’s head. In court, he interrupted the judge and waved away the barrister. He pleaded not guilty, but his defence was nonsensical. At times, he claimed that Harrison wasn’t the woman in the video, or that she didn’t mind it being filmed, or that there was no proof that he had uploaded the images – it might have been his assistant, it could have been a hacker.

Had he pleaded guilty and expressed remorse, he would almost certainly have been handed a community sentence. Harrison still can’t understand it. “The Bear I first met was funny and cheeky, but also really charming – he could be kind,” she says. “That person in court seemed possessed. I feel like every show he went on, he was praised for being ‘the villain’ – and the worse he was, the more attention he got. At some point, the lines blurred. That role took over.” A reality TV monster? “That’s how it seemed.”

Giving evidence was excruciating for Harrison. She sat in the witness box as the jury (nine men, three women) looked through pages and pages of video stills, having to confirm that each one featured her. “I could tell the jury was absolutely cringing,” she says. “I was in a private garden in a private moment that I thought was between me and one other person. To know people have seen it is hard. To see people seeing it while they can see you is harder.

“As someone in the public eye, used to public speaking, it was still hard to get my words out. You don’t know where to look, who to talk to. You feel you’ve done something wrong when you haven’t. I dread to think what it’s like for a vulnerable young woman who isn’t used to addressing a room. I think it would be near enough impossible.” She hopes her case might make it a little easier. “Women come up to me all the time, crying, saying they’ve been through this horrible situation and never spoken to anyone about it before. They message me on a daily basis. Intimate-image abuse happens so much more than people think.”

After the trial, Harrison continued campaigning, initially to make cases easier to prosecute. At present, the sharing of intimate images without consent is not illegal – unless done “with intent to cause distress”, however hard that is to prove. In June, the government announced amendments to the online safety bill that will remove this requirement if the law is passed. This will mean that sharing intimate images without consent, whatever the motive, would become a criminal act.

But Harrison wants more.

“If you go to court for this and get a criminal conviction, that content should become illegal and any platforms that still show it and fail to take it down should become criminally accountable,” she says. “It’s crazy. If someone gets caught with drugs, those drugs are seized and disposed of. Why should this footage stay up there? A change like that isn’t hard to make and it would make a huge difference. Far more victims would come forward, because they’d know it will be possible to make all that footage disappear at the end.”

The video of Harrison and Bear is still out there. “I worry that one day I’ll have kids and it will be accessible to them,” she says. “I just hope that by that time, society may have got on top of this and it will be too risky and expensive for platforms to carry it.” She expects that finding a partner she trusts will take time. “As I get to the point where I am trying to have relationships, I’ve realised that I do have trust issues, but that’s not a bad thing. I’ve been burned so badly. I won’t accept anything that might be a red flag or makes me feel vulnerable. If someone really cares about me, they’ll just have to help me get past that.”

Meanwhile, she is busy again. There is a TV show coming up that she can’t talk about yet. The brands are back. Harrison has written Taking Back My Power. She would like to present daytime TV: “You literally get paid to have a natter!” She is also happy to be known for the court case. “I’ll never, ever lose the stigma of being all over those porn platforms,” she says. “But if I’m known as the person who stood up and fought back – I’d be proud of that.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Life is too short to waste time matching socks... (2/5)

Hangster and Bob/Javy/Nat - set post mission with the Dagger Squad having been made a permanent squad.

PART ONE

                “Are our friends hooking up?” Bradley asks, frowning at the message on his phone.

                “Who? Javy and Phoenix?”

                Interesting. He had meant Natasha and Bob, but it makes sense that maybe Hangman just jumps to assuming his best friend is the one dating Natasha. They’re at the restaurant where Natasha had insisted on meeting, something she had wanted to tell them apparently and now she’s not going to get here until much later, if at all.

                “No. Well, yes, But I mean Nat, Bob and Coyote… the three of them.”

                “Huh. You know, you may be onto something. They’ve been looking incredibly suspicious every time I walk into the room, springing apart like they’ve been doing or saying something they don’t want me to overhear.”

                “Yeah, same. Think we need to let them know we’re okay with the three of them being together?”

                “Well, maybe they’re still trying to figure things out?”

                “Huh. True. Not yet ready to tell us maybe?”

                “Or they’re just having fun and it’s not serious?”

                “Not serious? Are we talking about the same people?”

                “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Maybe they don’t think we’d understand?”

                Bradley frowns, because he hopes not. Not that he’s ever been in a polyamorous relationship, if that’s what that three of them are currently figuring out. He gets not wanting other people to meddle or provide a running commentary, but he is a little hurt that she hasn’t mentioned anything to him. He glances at the messages on his phone again.

                Received forty minutes ago.

>>Sorry, running late! Be there soon. Go ahead and order without me.

                Received twenty minutes ago.

>>Okay – just got a call. Let me see if I can deal with these two without going over there in person.

                Received five minutes ago.

>>Sorry but I’ve got to leave you there. Javy and I need to talk with Bob about some stuff. Hopefully get it sorted and maybe still get there for dessert.

                He slides it across to Hangman, offering him to read it, because if they’re going to try and figure this out they both need all of the information at hand.

                “That is… That has to be the three of them having a serious conversation right? I know Javy hooked up with Phoenix years ago.”

                “Really? Because she hooked up with Bob not that long ago.”

                “Go Phoenix… I wonder if Javy knows that.”

                “Surely right? If the three of them are having a serious conversation? Like, serious enough to not be able to leave it to another time. Leaving us unsupervised. Pretty risky move otherwise…” Bradley says, lips twitching with amusement, because their arguing is nowhere near as antagonistic as it used to be. Now it’s got a far more friendly edge, playful almost and if he didn’t know better he’d say it was sometimes flirty. But that’s just wishful thinking.

                He sends a quick message saying that they’re ordering dessert and that he hopes she can sort whatever it is out with Coyote and Bob, and he’s insanely curious, but knows better to ask through a text, because she’ll either outright lie or deflect. He needs to ask her in person where he can watch her micro expressions.

                They both can’t decide between the same two desserts before sheepishly realizing that they can share and place their order, the topic of conversation now firmly circling what they think Coyote, Nat and Bob are up to. He convinces Hangman to send a couple of messages to Coyote to do some delicate fishing for information and realizes that they might need to meet up again to discuss their theories. He doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t want to risk the potential rejection even if he’s not got any intention other than friendship. Mostly.

                They finish up their desserts, eating off each other’s plates easily enough and he hates how much it feels like a date, how much he wants it to be a date. His phone vibrates with another message from Natasha, saying she’s definitely not going to make it and well, it’s far too late for her to join them anyway. The split the bill and walk towards where they’ve both left their cars.

                “Well Rooster, I enjoyed this. We should do it again some time.”

                “How about we do lunch in a week or so? Compare notes? See if we can figure them out?”

                Something in Hangman’s expression changes but is gone before he can figure it out.

                “Sounds good. Have a good night.”

…            …            …

                Javy looks at his phone, a little confused at the stream of messages but able to pick out the general gist of what Jake is trying to say.

                “Okay, that was a bust. Well, they didn’t kill each other, but Jake seems to think Rooster is very uninterested in dating him. Are you sure he likes him? He suggested a date and Rooster turned it into work talk apparently… Told you a dinner date was going to be too subtle for our idiots.”

                “You said no such thing. Anyway, locking them in a room, either a pretend one,” Natasha says, looking at Bob, “or a real one, isn’t going to work either. They need to fucking talk.”

                “They need to uh, fuck, and then talk,” Bob states and Javy concedes that he may have a point. They’re both men of action rather than conversation, although he really thinks they need to use their words. Constructively.

                “We can’t force them to talk,” Javy says, rubbing at his face, because they also can’t make them fuck either. He stretches out his neck, the tension from having to deal with Jake being ridiculous starting to get to him. He barely notices as Bob moves behind him and starts massaging his shoulders, just lets his body slump a little.

                “I’m sorry, but I totally forced them to just spend three hours together, talking and enjoying a meal together. And if you’re giving out massages I want one please.”

                “Sure,” Bob agrees and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Bob say no to her.

                “Yeah, you did really well with the dinner thing, but…”

             ��  Then there’s a key in his door, it’s opening and Jake is standing there, his face going from sad to surprised and he wonders what sort of picture they make, Phoenix sitting beside him but with Bob behind him massaging his shoulders. God, it’s not like anyone is naked. Jake has seen him in far more embarrassing and compromising situations than talking with two friends, but judging from the look on his face he clearly thinks he’s snapped Javy doing something illicit and he raises an eyebrow.

                “What?”

                “Uh… Javy! Hi. Phoenix. Bob. Hmm. I should have known you’d all be here. Sorry. I’ll leave you to it. Ignore me. I was never here.”

                “What the hell was that about?”

                “I have no idea…”

PART THREE