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missmaywemeetagain · 11 months

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Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

A/N: Ohhh, so y'all forced this out of me, what with all the talk about the "Blue Scarf" and expanding the "Scarf Universe" thrown at me this week! 😂 (I hear you, I hear you!) Be careful what you wish for, lil' darlin's!! Honestly, though, I've known since I ended Pink Scarf that this was something that was going to happen in this particular way to our dear Reader and E, I just never knew if it was going to see the light of day. And with this week's prompt, all the inspiration and stars seemed to align at once on Sunday, so this came out rather quick and may be rough, and it's possible I might go back and tweak it later, but I'm happy with it for now. I hope this satiates you for the moment. I hope it gives you all the feels. And, yes, perhaps I may expand this little Blue Scarf into a series and include a spicy story or two later, if you all are good lil' babies for me. 😏 💙🧣💙 Let me know in the comments and reblogs...😉

Thanks always to my sister wives @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for allowing me to skirt by late with this week's prompt. 😇

Prompt: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

Rating: PG (ish?) || Word Count: 2.7k

TW: Fluff, angst (always), infidelity (sort of??), no smut (so sorry loves)

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

August 1971

It’s fitting, you think, that today of all days, you’re wearing his blue silk scarf in your hair. Elvis hasn’t worn it much since that fateful summer a couple of years ago—and only for a few more shows and a couple nights out—so you had absconded with it and made it your own, as you’d managed to do with many of his things. You loved how it smelled of him, the silk doused in his musk and cologne, and how it reminded you of the not-wearing-a-shirt-under-a-jacket/jumpsuit phase he gone through that summer and fall of ‘69. Lord, you’d loved that phase. It had been so easy to lay him bare before you.

Heat floods your cheeks at the thought of what this particular scarf has seen between the two of you, and then at the fact that this might be the worst possible time for a thought like that to pop into your head. You know it’s the shock of the bomb that just dropped on your lives that has your brain short circuiting a little. Because neither of you ever expected this.

You nervously twist the platinum and diamonds on your ring finger, the ones which pledged his love for you in front of your family, friends, and the world. Thoughts fill your mind of your lovely, small wedding, how this scarf had been there for that important moment, too, tied around your waist, cinching your white dress—being both your “something borrowed” and your “something blue.” Elvis loved that you’d included it, this piece of him, as part of your gown.

He also loved untying it at the end of the night and letting it flutter to your feet with the rest of your dress.

It’s counterpart, the pink scarf, had been tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket, a little secret for you both. You’d enjoyed it, as well, later that night.

“Y/n, did y-you hear me? I-I-I-It’s me,” Elvis says, snapping you out of your memories, his hand lingering on the phone he’d just placed back on its cradle. “How are w-w-we going to solve this problem?”

The wavering fear in his voice is palpable and in any other circumstance it might scare you, but a strange sense of calm falls over you. Somehow the domino effect of both of your actions two years ago have led you to this very moment. Tragic as it is, it seems meant to be.

Just like you and Elvis.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you breathe deeply. Yes, there is a part of you that is still jealous and angry about what brought you here. But you knew, even back then, that it was possible he’d been with others in your month-long absence, that his fear of losing you plus old habits could have driven him into the arms of another. It wasn’t a new revelation, just one neither of you had wanted to talk about after all was said and done. And it hadn’t been an issue since, so you figured bringing it up would be more trouble than it was worth.

Pushing that hurt aside, a much bigger feeling swells within you—one you’ve been hesitant to name for fear that it would not come to fruition. But now everything has changed.

“It’s not a problem,” you state, your voice surprisingly steady.

“W-w-what?” Elvis questions, those oceanic eyes of his widening in disbelief.

“It’s a gift, Elvis. From the most unlikely and sad circumstances, yes, but a gift all the same. Isn’t it?” You’re not quite sure if you are trying to convince him or if you are just stating the obvious, but those feelings continue to rise in you and have for days. And they overshadow the fading fissure of anger and the burgeoning fear that you refuse to let consume you.

Hope. Joy.

“A gift?” he repeats, letting the words roll on his tongue, letting them sink in. He blinks slowly, gaze shifting off into the distance for a moment. Then, he looks down at the paperwork on the table. At the picture. “Oh. Oh.”

A shuddering breath shakes his shoulders, his ring clad fingers clawing at his knees. It’s when the tears pool in his eyes, finally betraying his sensitive vulnerability after so many days of keeping it in, that you slide out of your chair and rush to his side.

He immediately buries his head into your belly, his arms circling around your waist, clinging to you. A sob wrenches out of him, one so deep that it brings tears to your eyes.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I didn’t think...I-I-I din’t know,” he hiccups. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing to you or her or him. Maybe his apology is for all of you.

“Shhh, hush, it’s okay,” you coo, tears trickling absently down your cheeks. You run your fingers through his soft hair before pulling back, cupping his cheeks so he is forced to look at you.

He is so wide-eyed and young-looking staring up at you, his eyes now matching the scarf in your hair with their electric blue, a dramatic contrast against the redness caused by his tears.

“It’s not a problem, honey, it’s a gift. He is a gift,” you say, wiping the tears that linger on his prominent cheekbones. “We can do this. I want to do this. If you do.”

Elvis blinks up at you, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. If he’s a part of you, he’s a part of me, too. And—and,” you choke up, swallowing your past sorrows, “you know it’s something I’ve always wanted. Something I never thought we could have. This is…a chance to make something wonderful out of something tragic.”

You’re aware the reality is likely going to be much more complicated than either of you can fathom in this moment. There is a part of you that is utterly terrified it won’t live up to the miracle you want it to be and that you won’t be worthy of the task. But that is not what Elvis needs to hear, not right now. Your insecurities can wait.

Elvis looks down at the picture resting on the table of the young woman and her baby. Your gaze follows. The first time you saw it, you knew, based solely on the fact that the woman looked so much like a younger version of you, that something had happened between them in those weeks you’d escaped from Vegas to California, when you left him, trying to figure out if you could forgive him. When you were trying to recover from your life turning upside down.

Her likeness plus the look of horrified guilt on his face upon seeing the picture told you all you needed to know about that. His begging and pleading for forgiveness at your feet solidified it.

But it had been the way Vernon had blanched white as a sheet when seeing the baby that you understood the true consequence of Elvis’ dalliance.

It was a punch in the gut, at first. Of course, it was. But logically you knew that he’d been hurting in those weeks without you, unsure if you’d ever come back to him. It wasn’t altogether surprising that he’d sought out comfort from a girl who looked so much like you.

You wanted to be furious at the fact she had gotten pregnant by him so easily, but you knew that was a futile road to go down, especially after what happened to her.

According to the letter she’d given to her lawyer, who had sent it on to Elvis, the cancer within her spread like wildfire. It was too late to save her by the time her pain had sent her to the doctor. She—Theresa—had never planned to ask Elvis for a thing, she reiterated. Theresa had been content to raise her son by herself. But she had no family to take him in when she was gone, and she could not bear to think of her son alone and unloved.

“You don’t have to take him, Elvis, truly. But I beg you, please, please make sure he is placed with a nice family, that he is loved and taken care of. I cannot leave him all alone.”

His lawyers weren’t convinced, however, and didn’t want him to even entertain the thought. It could open you up for all sorts of future problems, Elvis.

But that didn’t stop him from finding out for himself because, as all of them knew, nobody tells Elvis Presley what he can and can’t do. He tracked her down, in Denver of all places, and took you and Vernon with him to the hospital to see Theresa. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing this girl Elvis had been with in a moment of weakness. Would you want to slap her face? Would you want to cry and scream? Would you want to tear her apart?

Instead, it had shocked you into silence, seeing someone that resembled you so closely withering away from disease, as if it were some sort of eerie harbinger. It made your skin prickle. But then compassion filled you, more so than you ever expected. The poor woman was on death’s door, but you’ll never forget the relief in her eyes when you all walked through the door. That look was something that couldn’t be faked. Nor was the toddler playing with the nurse in the corner, the little boy who Vernon looked at like he’d seen a ghost.

The boy was the spitting image of his father.

But that didn’t stop Theresa from encouraging a paternity test. She was well aware of what a mess this could be for Elvis, and she didn’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt for anyone involved. She wanted him to be sure.

“I don’t want to ruin your life,” she’d croaked, her emaciated frame limp and barely able to produce the tears she was trying to hold back. “I never want him to be a burden.”

The tiny blonde child chose that pivotal moment to break away from the nurse, waddling over and grabbing Elvis’ flared pant leg with chubby little fists, commanding Elvis’ attention downward. His chin tucked, gaze following the movement at his feet, and you watched him wrestle with what to do, what the protocol in this sort of situation was. It was intense, this first moment between them, and the boy’s all-too-familiar crooked smile and slow blinking blue eyes made your heart clench.

You watched Elvis come to an unspoken decision, and he lifted the boy easily and almost too naturally tucked the boy into his hip. The room collectively held its breath, watching the scene unfold. You’d never seen a child snuggle up to an unfamiliar person like that before, the way he buried his head into Elvis’ shoulder as if drawn in, inexplicably trusting. Granted, Elvis had that preternatural way about him, his essence bringing people to him constantly. But this was different.

Heart fluttering into a gallop, you watched Elvis take this moment in before nodding solemnly, sucking in his lip. With the child tucked into his side, it was obvious to you that he was holding back his pressing emotions to stay in control. Nevertheless, he was unwavering when he told Theresa, “Even if he’s not mine, I’ll make sure he finds a good home. I promise you that.”

She’d closed her eyes then, and when they opened, you saw a gratefulness and relief so strong it nearly bowed you over.

Elvis had done the blood test right then at the hospital. Everyone was quiet on the plane ride home. Elvis, pensive and withdrawn, clutched at your hand so tightly it tingled from the loss of circulation. And when the call came the next day that Theresa was gone, your heart broke for her. Sheer willpower had kept her alive long enough to make sure her son would be safe. A mother’s love.

You’d wept for her. You’d wept for you and for Elvis. You’d wept for that little boy.

Nicholas. Nicholas Aaron.

You didn’t tell Elvis that the moment you saw the 16-month-old toddle towards you that you knew. That you loved him instantly, like something magical locked into place. It was too early, too soon. But you knew.

Elvis hadn’t wanted to talk about it much as you all waited for the results. He was antsy and on edge, everyone giving him a wide berth. His guilt was trying its best to distance him from you, that deep seeded, insecure vulnerability in him trying to simultaneously push you away while needing you close. It was evident in the way he clung to you in his sleep. But you did everything in your power to let him know you didn’t hate him for the indiscretion, that you still loved him unconditionally, no matter the paternity outcome.

Of course, your mind whirled in overdrive, circling the drain around your surprising emotions about Nicholas. You found yourself worrying your nails down to the quick about whether he was safe and who was caring for him since his mother died. Your heart felt like it was tearing in two whenever you thought about it. You knew you shouldn’t get too attached, but you couldn’t help it. It was primal and biological, this response.

So when the phone rang this morning and Jerry had so seriously handed it to Elvis, you knew what it was, your breath catching in your throat. This was the moment that would change everything. And you hoped it was for the better as you sat across from him, wringing your hands in your lap. Silence filled the room as Elvis listened to the voice on the other end, his face going Hollywood blank, giving you nothing to hold on to. Your heart threatened to explode right out of your chest and onto the table.

He thanked the voice on the other end and hung up the phone.

“E, what did they—” you started.

“I’m his father,” Elvis finally whispered in shock.

And now you are here, holding him to you, being his rock while in your own state of disbelief and wonder. A thousand emotions roll through you all at once: Hope. Joy. Sorrow for Theresa. Guilt for being happy in the face of Nicholas’ tragedy.

“Do you want this, to take him in, Elvis?” you ask, prompting him to look up at you once more. You pray you know the answer.

“Of course, I do. I’m his father. He’s my son,” he says, as if the unfamiliar words have finally landed and he believes them. Then his signature 1,000-megawatt crooked smile spreads across his face. “I have a son! We have a son!” he adds, proudly.

Elvis jumps up, grabbing you by the waist, spinning you around until the room tilts on its axis. You laugh breathlessly, arms locked around his neck, wondering how in the world you’ve managed to get here after all this time, in the most unlikely of ways.

A son.

When he sets you down, he looks at you, grinning from ear to ear with an unbridled passion like you’ve never seen from him before. It’s not sexual, and it’s different from the passion he has for his music. It’s the love of a new father, you realize, something you never thought you’d get to see. It makes your heart swell uncontrollably.

“Are you absolutely positive this is what you want, lil’ mama?” His questioning eyes search yours as he cups your face, his fingers catching in the blue scarf in your hair. The pet name suddenly takes on a whole new meaning, releasing butterflies in your stomach.

Excitement has your heart racing and your breath short, but you beam, winking, “Oh, I’m one thousand percent positive, Daddy.”

Elvis kisses you deeply, as though he’s merging with you, engulfing you. It takes your breath away completely.

“We have a son,” he whispers, smiling against your mouth. “Let’s go get our son.” There’s something in the way he includes you in this, a pointed clarity that you are not an outsider because you aren’t Nicholas’ biological mother. No, he’s telling you in no uncertain terms—this is your boy as much as he is mine.

And after so many years thinking it could never be, it finally, truly hits you, without a doubt:

I’m going to be a mother.

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lovergirllane · 9 months

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Cowboy Lovin’ (J.M)

Warning(s); Smut!, Piv sex!, Daddy kink,age gap,Joel is in his 40’s reader’s in her early 20’s,make out session,mention of weed, use of drugs (weed),Oral (R Receiving), semi public sex,outdoor sex.

Pairing(s); Neighbor!Joel Miller x Afab!Fem!Reader.

Summary; you’re home for the summer.

A/n; this is the longest thing I’ve written in a hot minute, pls enjoy and if you like this pls check out some of my old works on @bellaramseysgf & @billyslittledolly <3

You had missed your smaller home town however you didn’t regret choosing a out of state college. The small town had no place for your career path,the small town had less than 1000 people inside its barrier.

Though you couldn’t truly admit it you missed your neighbor the most. He was everything a small town cowboy would be. Polite,kind, a honest sweetheart but stand off-ish at first. His daughter was friends with your younger sibling causing him to be there most days.

You smiled to yourself seeing his truck parked in your driveway as you pulled up to your house. You hadn’t brought much from school just the necessity’s.

You had walked inside and were bombarded by your younger sibling smiling as you hugged them tightly. “How you been looser?” You asked and they began rambling on about what they’d done while you were gone.

Your parents came to hug you next before you finally locked eyes with Joel. You felt your whole body heat up after catching his gaze.

You and Joel had a rather….complicated relationship. After his wife left when you were freshly 18 the man took over your life. You don’t even truly know what turned inside you but you jumped on him every chance you got. Joel was more than happy to oblige.

You hadn’t seen him since you left 5 months ago. He looked different but the same, he had scruff and part of a beard growing on his face. He looked to be stronger and more fit, he also had cut his hair.

You broke the stare before anyone could notice mumbling a quick hello to him and his daughter both.

It was later in the evening when you were finally getting a chance to unpack that there was a knock on your door. You turned to see Joel in your doorway leaning against the frame.

“Hey kiddo” he spoke and you sighed when his voice still made your hair stand up in the best possible way. “Your dad said you were looking for a job this summer” he added and you nodded as you sat your make up onto your vanity.

“I need some help around the Ranch if you’re interested”

He had another daughter now. Why did he need any help?

“Joel, Don’t you have Ellie now? Why do you need my help?” You asked as you continued to unpack your vanity. “It’s not a need…more of a want..” he said and you shrugged in response.

You tried to not let you excitement show as you turned to look at him “sure, easy money for me” you said like you didn’t have a care in the world. “Mmm, Perfect be there tomorrow at 9” he said and you nodded.

You already knew that you weren’t gonna be helping with anything around the ranch what so ever.

The next morning you were up,dressed, and out of the house before 8 knowing that if you got there early you’d get even more time with him and boy were you right.

“That’s it, good girl” he praised as you took his cock all the way into the back of your throat. You were on your knees in front of him his back pressed to his bedroom door. He had both hands settled on your head as he choked out moans.

“Fuck, yes- so good!” You knew by his constant babbling that he was close and sure enough with a couple more moves of your head he was releasing down your throat with a groan.

That’s how your days started, most days with you pleasuring him, he would always return the favor of course and fuck you brainless.

You and Ellie had unexpectedly become close mainly off the fact you both smoked, late at night when she thought her dad was asleep she’d come over and share a joint with you.

It was late one night and you and her were giggling about Joel falling off his horse earlier in the day. “I know! He just hit the ground like a sack of potatoes!” She laughed as she blew smoke out and handed you the smoking paper.

“Yes! That horse was like ‘that’s enough’” you replied urging another fit of laughter before you inhaled the smoke. The joint got passed a few more times before the pair of you heard your worst nightmare.

“Ellie Miller!” You both cringed when you heard Joel’s voice from behind the pair of you. “We’ve been caught! Run!” You exclaimed and the pair of you really had every intention to but neither of you did. Instead, you both just let out another round of giggling.

“Ellie! Home! Now!” He commanded and she let out a huff followed by “yeah yeah” as she walked past him and through your house. “Just what kind of influence are you having on my 17 year old daughter?” He asked and you shrugged snuffing the joint out in the tray.

“A fun one?” You offered but were met with a stern look and rolled your eyes “it’s just a little fun okay? She’s fine it’s not like it can hurt her” Joel let out a sigh “how can you be this reckless! This could ruin her life!” “Oh my god, grow up Joel. You’re fucking your neighbors daughter who’s half your age, that could ruin her life. Not some measly drug” you let out a huff once you were done and stood up.

“It’s a little weed, Chill” you shoved past him and he grabbed your arm before you were met with his lips on yours. It was quickly heated and turned into him slamming you against the side of your house as his tongue ran over yours.

His hands dropped to hike up the dress you were wearing,he spun you around with force making you use your hands to catch yourself. Your dress was pushed up feeling the soft material fall around your waist made you squeeze your thighs together.

It was even more exciting that your parents were right on the other side of this wall you heard the clanking of his belt and soon enough you were filled with his cock.

You let out a quiet gasp as he entered until he was settled at his base inside you, he let out a sigh in return before he began thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

The hot night air was soon filled with moans from the both of you as he worked you both closer to your release

Everything felt way more intense now that your high was finally in full blast your head felt floaty and you let out a sigh, leaning to set your head on his chest. “You feeling it?” He asked and you let out a weak moan in response.

“I know baby, I know.” He said as his hand stroked over your stomach “must feel so good” you let out a squeal when he thrusted harder and hit a sensitive spot you didn’t know you had. “Daddy!” You moaned. “Shh shhh, daddy’s here. Gotta stay quiet baby” he whispered.

He shifted and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist before he let out a few grunts and began to fuck into you faster. You let out as quite of moans as you could as he slammed into you each thrust knocking another “daddy!” From your throat.

You were nearing your end and he was too, a few more thrusts and you were both sent flying over the edge as he mumbled sweet praises into your ear over and over until you were both settled.

It took you awhile the waves still making your body tremble for a while as he gently rubbed your stomach mumbling about how good you were.

“Now, is that attitude of yours fixed?” He asked and you let out a sigh as you nodded sleepily. “Good girl, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in bed.”

#tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel and ellie #ellie williams x platonic!reader #tori writes tlou

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pretendfan · 1 year

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{Roommates} ELEVEN

(A/N: Do not readjust your screens cos yes it’s true, I’m finally back baby! In honour of the very first chapter being posted a whole year ago last month now. I decided it was time to carry on with this ridiculous story cos there were quite a few things left unsaid, but don’t worry I’m here and here it is the first instalment of part two of the series….hope you ENJOY🙌)

(additional: huge, huge, huge shoutout to @powerfultenderness and @likedovesinthewnd for words of encouragement about this story and both helping me along the way♥️)

(Pairing)

Adrian Chase x Female reader

(Summary)

Desperately in need of a roommate, your co-worker knows a guy, but why did it have to be Adrian? The guy both annoyed and frustrated the hell out of you getting under your skin from the very moment that you had met him.

But this was only temporary there was no need to complicate things by really getting to know one another or even worse catch feels along the way. Sure it had been a while for both of you but hooking up with your roommate was a terrible idea…

wasn’t it?

(Words)

9k (ish)

(Warning)

18+ adults only: Lots of swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of injuries and blood..

{eleven}

“Fuck.”

Cursing softly at first, you then repeat the word a lot louder the second time around rolling onto your back alone in bed, unable to fall asleep despite the fact that work would be beckoning you in a couple of hours.

Removing a hand from your underwear you admit defeat, there was simply no chance in hell that you would be sleeping anytime soon, and the invitation of a quick orgasm lulling you into any sense of calm escapes from your grasp by the second.

Debating the whereabouts of your vibrator you cannot actually be bothered to look for it, unless a certain someone was to walk in here right now and help you out, otherwise there was absolutely no point.

This right here was definitely becoming an on-going problem, one that you couldn’t either talk your way out of or try to blatantly ignore, all because of your idiotic roommate who was notably quite incredible in the sack.

Granted previous hook ups with others were nothing to write home about, but Adrian had set a new standard, one that not even your right hand could keep up with which was a low blow.

“Fuck!” You snap loudly to nobody in particular because of course you are still alone in the apartment, with your muddled thoughts all leading back to the culprit one who had robbed you of sleep, as well as a orgasm or two but who was counting.

Getting out of bed you grudgingly get dressed again into a pair of grey leggings, wearing an old cropped pink tee you yawn resignedly as you get out of bed and walk out to the kitchen, it was definitely coffee time.

Shaking your head whilst you listen to the coffee machine get to work, you cannot believe that this was your life now, very little sleep and a constant thought stream of Adrian chase.

The guy who had grudgingly agreed to move into your apartment, whilst taking over your life despite not being here right now, actually you had no idea where the guy of your dreams (or was it nightmares) was?

That was the thing with Adrian even though the pair of you were just keeping things light and breezy, a statement that should have raised a hundred red flags, yet here you were still unable to sleep the very opposite of things being easy.

The only time you did ever got a decent night sleep was when Adrian was in the apartment, be it in your bed or on the couch the pair of you laying together, putting the world to right with arguments over the best hot pocket filling and conversations like that.

“You are so wrong though-“

“Ham and cheese, it’s simple but so delicious.” You cut off Adrian with a smirk noticing the horrified look on your roommates face.

“Are you mental?” Adrian retorts then seeing the look you give him quickly adds “I was watching Wayne’s World last night, that line was appropriate for the moment.”

“Well in context I will actually let you off that little remark-“

“Cool! So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, Hot pocket toppings let me tell you what reigns supreme around these parts.”

Having learned long ago that once he started Adrian could easily talk for hours, just one random topic introduced and he was away, but of course you knew exactly how to distract him now with ease.

Either kiss the excited words right out of his mouth, because Adrian could never resist an impromptu make out session, but usually that tactic would quickly lead to you hurriedly straddling his lap as well.

The animalistic urge to get closer impossible to resist, whilst you would feel his cock already getting hard and ready to go, the aforementioned random conversation was usually soon forgotten about as well.

Smiling to yourself you pour a large mug of black coffee, suddenly missing the feeling of having Adrian behind you his face buried in your neck, hands gripping your sides steadily as he told you over and over how hot you were.

It was a confidence boost to say the very least, but standing there right now alone in your kitchen it hits you not quite for the first time, exactly how much you miss Adrian when he isn’t here which was becoming a lot.

But you had complete control over it despite the lack of sleep and ache between your legs, this was all just for fun a statement you’ve used quite a lot, over the time that you have been hooking up with Adrian which was a whole month already.

Sitting down at the kitchen island you place both hands around the large blue mug, with a colourful smile on your face despite the early hour because overall Adrian has been quite the interesting distraction, a very sexy one for sure if truth be told.

Well when he is here at the apartment at least you surmise, because this morning already marked day three of Adrian being AWOL, but you wasn’t at all worried or at least you told yourself that.

Part of the deal was that the pair of you had your own lives, which briefly intertwined and you was completely cool with that, it was just that something felt off with this whole set up.

…was this all too good to be true?

There had to be a reason why Adrian was spending so much time away from the apartment, and you with your needs but of course you had tried to voice all of this previously but to no avail, clearly it was nothing to be worried about right now.

Of course your ex was still hovering over you well the presence he left behind anyway, not that he was dead or anything just that the guy was finally out of your life, or so you assumed thanks to not having to field calls from the asshole anymore.

Things were clearly looking up and you had Adrian to thank for that, being both the rebound that you needed and the fuck buddy slash roommate who kind of stuck to your rules, the ones you had to keep adding to the fridge so he would see them anyway.

Sneaking a glance at the fridge door makes you smile yet again to yourself, it widens even bigger still when you recall an evening when Adrian had come home from work, still dressed in his uniform.

See there were many pro’s to having Adrian in your life, despite the guy being misunderstood by a lot of people you took him quirks and all, because the package deal was truly a fucking sight to behold.

Likewise seeing him in his Fennel Fields uniform usually left very little to your imagination, just like that evening when Adrian had walked through the door, and you had decided there and then that he needed to undress right this second.

“I think you should take off that apron.” You inform Adrian in a sultry voice that surprises both yourself and your roommate.

“Oh, really?” Adrian questions with a smirk whilst untying his beige apron, green eyes staring at you with a playful smirk on his lips.

“Shirt next-“

“Not the sexy hat?” Adrian questions with an arched eyebrow.

“Nope, keep that on.” You wink back at Adrian then add “The trousers definitely need to go next.”

“What are you up to-“

“Be patient and you will see.” You state with a lick of your lips which makes Adrian pull down his trousers hurriedly.

You recall with a wicked grin walking slowly over to Adrian, then getting down onto your knees you look up view obscured by dark eyelashes, as you proceed to make out with his slick abs tracing your tongue gently over the firm lines causing your roommate to groan in response.

Thanks to that memory and quickly recalling exactly what had happened next, you squeeze your thighs together tightly at the idea of something happening again soon, but then you remember that Adrian wasn’t even here to help you out.

Having driven yourself mad by overthinking things to the point that you may never sleep again, you decide this was all fucking ridiculous, but at least you were passing the time between now and work only at what cost to your own needs.

That was the thing for someone who had agreed to all this, you still didn’t know where Adrian went spending time away from the apartment and yourself, unable to not take it a little personally but no one else knew that…

“You don’t need to know.” Adrian would inform you in that monotone voice that signalled the conversation was over.

“Should I be worried-“

“Of course not! I’m a big boy.” Adrian confirms with a sly look on his face then quickly states “ I stay late at work, I hang out with Scott or work friends it’s all good.”

“But the late nights-“

“Erm y/n you are kinda starting to sound like my mom right now.” Adrian informs you with a well-timed grimace that makes you roll your eyes.

“Ok I get it-“

“Well you were the one who wanted to keep things simple, this just makes things easier all round.” Adrian states then with a quick kiss on your forehead, he leaves the apartment without a second glance.

Since that conversation you have left the subject matter well alone, which obviously resulted in all this, whatever this was because there was no way things could get serious between you two…right?

Either way the collection of unnecessary thoughts circling around in your mind were indeed firmly off the table, you needed rid of them and the only way was to have a shower, that idea would at least help you out in one way.

Then it would be hurrying to get dressed followed by rushing to work, straight through the morning and lunch rush because the only good thing about your job, was the satisfying way it acted as a full on disturbance for all your stressful needs.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Scott asks his unwelcome guest, the one who just wouldn’t get the fucking hint already.

“I can’t move.” Adrian whines from a curled up position, trying to hide from everything and nothing, it was easier for everyone if he just stayed here for the foreseeable.

“Shit excuse dude.” Scott deadpans looking over at his oldest friend, the one who was still not moving from the couch, this could very soon become a problem.

“It’s the fucking truth.” Adrian groans into the couch cushion, his face pressed flat against the synthetic fabric, it was really uncomfortable but he currently deserved this kind of torture.

“You know I asked y/n if you could move in with her, but here you are yet again at my place.” Scott begins his voice dripping with sarcasm as he asks “ Did you two like fight or has your roommate found out how shit you are in bed?”

“I made my roommate cum seven times once actually.” Retorts Adrian slowly moving his head up from the couch, to gage his friends reaction, because the statement was all true.

“Bullshit-“

“A lady never tells, but let me tell you that once I get between her thighs magic happens.” Adrian declares finally sitting up from his position on the couch, even adding jazz hands to back up his wild declaration.

“Ok, I work with y/n I don’t think she would like you talking-“

“Seven times.” Adrian cuts off Scott whilst he pretends to count his fingers, a wide grin playing across his face that kind of cheers him up.

“No need to be smug about it.” Scott quickly declares but then adds with a laugh “You do need to tell her the truth though dude.”

“Y/n already knows that I am dynamite in bed-“

“That isn’t what I mean and you fucking know it, if you valued whatever you have with your roommate then you should be honest.” Scott shrugs back at Adrian who runs a hand through his messy hair in obvious annoyance.

“That’s a big ask-“

“So, what is the deal between you and y/n then? I know you guys are clearly hooking up but here you are yet again obviously avoiding her.” Scott cuts off Adrian with the million dollar question, one that not even he could truly answer, well out loud anyway.

“Im not avoiding anyone.” Adrian begins with a hint of deflection in his voice as he adds “ It’s not complicated, but I’m also kind of protective of both myself and how my secret will eventually affect y/n.”

“Oh, and what secret is that?” Scott asks whilst rolling his eyes in his friends direction.

“Don’t start you already know-“

“Well, you are going to have to tell her pretty soon who you really are.” Scott reminds Adrian in a firm voice, making him feel like he was being scolded and not liking it one bit, so he decided it was time to deflect even more.

“Tell y/n that I am really the dark knight?” Adrian questions with a smile that descends into giggles, because he could be funny too.

“I don’t think she would even believe that for a second-“

“Besides Vigilante’s suit is way cooler by the way!” Adrian practically yells cutting off Scott who grins back at him.

“Yeah but you’re not even Batman famous-“

“In Evergreen I am!” Adrian snaps standing up from the couch as if the is would help get the point across to his idiot friend.

“Hardly-“

“Dude, just drop it.” Adrian states narrowing his green eyed glare towards Scott who looked nonplussed.

“Anyways, back to my original question-“

“Just fucking drop it ok?!” Adrian shouts which actually does shut Scott up, but only for about five seconds.

“Someone has it so bad!” Scott laughs with obvious glee on his face.

“Nope.” Adrian states quickly but then adds for luck “You know I have like zero feelings.”

“Well, this is definitely gonna bite your ass sooner or later then!” Scott mutters in Adrian’s direction with a shake of his head.

“Yeah but that’s something for future me to deal with, right now I’m pretty golden.” Adrian surmises with a laugh clearly but firmly because that was the end of the that discussion.

“Whatever.” Scott sighs back in obvious annoyance.

It isn’t until a whole forty eight hours later that you see Adrian, walking into an empty Karma coffee whilst you were tackling a late shift alone with Phoebe, but finally seeing his face again makes your stomach flip and a wicked grin suddenly appears on your face.

This was just the interruption you needed because work wasn’t fulfilling its purpose, for once in fuck knows how long you couldn’t stop thinking about a guy, which meant that Adrian had been well and truly stuck in your thoughts.

… the whole damn day.

Yet here he finally was looking nonchalant about the whole thing, whilst you wanted to rush around from the counter and pull him into a hug, maybe some soft making out but keeping it PG13 because you was still at work after all.

Both respect and consent were two big deals that you knew had to stay on the table, but whenever Adrian was around all you really wanted to do was climb the guy, messy thoughts leading to you practically having to sit on your hands usually to avoid grabbing him at first sight.

What was it about this guy that made you act so feral?

Right now it was because the coffee shop had been quiet so far this evening, which was a bore because Conor hadn’t left any work for you to do, so instead you were inconveniently subjected to Phoebe talking the whole time.

“Hey, look who has decided to come crawling back?” Phoebe asks Adrian with a wink aimed in your direction, that your roommate choses not to notice.

“Why would I do that-“

“You know why?!” Phoebe retorts loudly which instantly makes you regret opening up to your co-worker, but it was the only way to shut her up, by talking about your own problems cos she was truly a sucker for a woeful tale.

“Hey roomie!” You call out to Adrian going for light and breezy, but ending up sounding more dark and restless so you lean an arm on the counter instead, casually as fuck or so you assume.

“Are you ok?” Adrian aims the question at you with a worrying glance, which instantly makes you move because you were trying to look chilled out not completely unhinged.

“I’m fine.” You begin quickly but then add subtly as an afterthought “ So, where have you been then?”

“Real smooth y/n.” Phoebe remarks with a giggle, but seeing the face that you pull she quickly gets back to stacking the reusable cups.

“Jeez, I’ve just been like super busy!” Adrian states in a sulky voice, which makes you look away from Phoebe to spot your roommate not quite meeting your gaze.

“That’s absolutely fine.” You begin with a nod and then state sharply “ But a text or something would have helped me from worrying, I mean wondering-“

“Missing me in the bedroom were we roomie?” Adrian asks with glee cutting you off with his alarming question, that has Phoebe watching the both of you without a care in the world.

“As if-“

“I hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me? Your collection of sex toys is quite impressive, but I’m the kinda guy who likes a little extra fun.” Adrian cuts you off with a smug look on his face that should be annoying, but instead you feel heat embarrassingly flood your underwear.

“I don’t think that Phoebe needs to-“

“Don’t worry about little old me, I’m definitely not listening to this super private conversation.” Phoebe informs you with a devilish grin that proves the complete opposite.

“That’s because I’m now changing the subject!” You retort quickly and with a swift wave of your hand to also signal that they were now done.

“Are you blushing? That’s so cute!” Adrian smiles at you widely, a heavily dimpled grin that makes your stomach perform acrobatics whilst you subtly squeeze your thighs together.

“Let’s talk about this later.” You singsong back at your roommate complete with a pointed look.

“My bed or yours?” Adrian winks happily which causes Phoebe to cough loudly from beside you.

Noticing three guys all walking into the shop you briefly welcome their arrival, hoping that Adrian would quit giving you that look, the one he usually wore before you dragged him into your bed.

“Well I doubt these three guys want to know all the sordid details.” You state looking to the newly arrived customers, all smiles aimed back in your direction, which clearly puts out Adrian as he stands a little more to attention.

“They might want pointers?” Adrian questions with a wink aimed firmly in your direction, but then he looks back as if he recognises one of the guys, a double look which leads to a firm line tensing his jaw.

“Is this the place where it happened?” One of the guys, you notice wearing a balaclava for a hat begins completely ignoring Adrian as he continues “Was there really a sighting of that douchebag Vigilante here, in this shit hole!”

“Excuse me-“

“Vigilante is not a douchebag!” Yells Adrian cutting you off from your hastily prepared speech about Karma coffee.

“What is with the weird hat you are wearing anyway?” Questions Phoebe eyeballing the tall uneasy dude, with the mustard coloured hat, which was just like you expected a balaclava that he hastily pulls it down over his ratchet face.

“We are here for Vigilante-“

“It isn’t like the guy frequents here for coffee or anything, duh!” Phoebe cuts off the second guy, shorter in height, but with blonde hair in a bun.

“Vigilante doesn’t even like coffee!” Shouts Adrian which makes everyone look round at him, whilst he explains “That’s what I heard, ok, so don’t go and like shoot the messenger or anything!”

“Get lost loser.” States man bun angrily which makes Adrian hold his hands on his hips in retaliation.

“You are definitely going to regret saying that!” Adrian demands unhelpfully.

“Leave him, we are here for the hot barista chicks.” Guy number three announces finally piping up with a creepy laugh, whilst proceeding to cut off an angry looking Adrian who was bouncing on his feet.

“I’m definitely not interested.” Phoebe proclaims once again folding her arms with purpose.

“Like we said hot stuff we’re really here for Vigilante.” Guy with the man bun reminds us like that was a definite plot point in this scene taking place.

“He has been seen several times around these parts, so we are here to have some fun with you ladies until the asshole appears.” Guy number three states with a gnarly grin that makes your skin crawl.

“What did we do?” Phoebe asks indignantly whilst folding her arms, sulking like she was about to have a complete meltdown, which pretty much tracks for her.

“Nothing yet gorgeous.” Guy number two with the man bun declares, quickly followed by a wink which makes your co worker pull a disgusted face.

“This is not happening-“

Before you finish that sentence you notice two things one that an elderly couple have just walked into the shop, and secondly that Adrian was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Adrian?” You hiss at Phoebe who shrugs back helpfully, which does nothing to calm your annoyance right this second, where the hell did he go?

“Enough of the pleasantries let’s get this fucking party started!” Shouts balaclava dude pulling out a small gun from under his black hoodie, which causes the elderly couple to thankfully flee right back out of the coffee shop.

“We have nothing to do with this Vigilante dipshit!” You announce darkly at the same time that Phoebe puts her hands up when she finally spots the gun in the room.

“He was seen here?” Questions balaclava guy his voice muffled slightly by the fabric obscuring his lips.

“Out the back of the store, well over a month ago might I add, but we haven’t seen him since.” You retort whilst trying to hide the annoyance from your voice, because this could not be happening right now, where the fucking hell was Adrian.

“Read the news, he’s a busy guy!” Shouts Phoebe again unhelpfully which makes you wish that you were anywhere else but here right now.

“Look.” You begin in a calm voice pushing away all negative thoughts towards your roommate to ask “ We can figure this all out but you will have to put that gun away first.”

“Or what sweetheart?” Questions balaclava guy who grins smugly taking a step forward, whilst you try to stand tall from behind the counter.

“Here we go-“

“Fuck this!” Snaps the third guy cutting off Phoebe, whilst he nudges his accomplice hard on the shoulder as he adds “ Can we talk to the manager because there can’t just be you two little ladies here all alone?”

“Sadly it is just us little ladies who are having to suffer with all this bullshit!” You snap then raise your hands when another gun is aimed at you from across the room.

“Hey, where did your boyfriend that super nerdy guy go to?” Mr man-bun guy asks over you his voice as grating as his appearance.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You provide as if everyone needed to know that right this second.

Regardless man-bun had just made a very good point, you think to yourself noticing that Adrian had yet to make a reappearance, even though you could’ve really used his help right about now.

The guy had some muscles and he knew how to use them, well in the bedroom at least you had gained first hand knowledge of that, but clearly right now wasn’t the time for that kind of thinking.

Having literally seen him earlier for less than ten minutes, you couldn’t help but wonder if Adrian was actually avoiding you, chuckling out loud to yourself at the stupidity of your thoughts because the store was literally being held up.

“What are you laughing at bitch?” One of the assholes snaps but you ignore them equally pissed at so many things, seeing how tonight was rapidly turning to shit in so many ways.

“Let’s just cut to the chase here ladies, I want you to empty out the register right now or I will start firing shots-“

“All of this trouble is being caused for a few measly bucks?” Phoebe demands with wide eyes, cutting off the apparent ringleader Mr balaclava, who replies with a cacophony of slurs in return.

“What the hell-“

“I’m getting really fucked off now!” Yells the shortest of the guys, luckily sans gun but the red of his face, matched the colour of his hair and in turn his apparent mood.

…you and me both sir.

Meanwhile Adrian was stood halfway down a conveniently placed alleyway, situated beside the coffee shop, hurriedly tugging down his work trousers to replace them with his suit he would show those assholes.

But first Adrian needed to obviously become less of a civilian and more like his alter ego Vigilante, happy that there had yet to be any gunfire but he needed to hurry up, save y/n and of course Phoebe like the badass that he was.

Recognising one of the assholes from somewhere but unsure where, Adrian quickly concludes that they will be easy to get rid of seeing how inept they were, plus he was also in the mood to exact some pain.

…for protective reasons of course.

Obviously Adrian cared about his roommate and he knew they were both having fun together, but he had needed some time away despite missing y/n late at night, Scott’s words suddenly echoing around in his head like an annoying pop song.

This was where things were actually complicated because he could show y/n who he really was like right now, the idea makes him regret his lunch choice, the feeling that it might reappear causes him to leap up quickly to his feet.

The decision was simple, for now he would continue being both Vigilante and of course Adrian separately, but right this second he has some serious ass kicking to do to protect his roommate.

Combat trousers, black long sleeve and work boots all finally back on, Adrian glances up the alleyway to see if he was being watched, because someone could report him and that was the last thing he needed right now.

Hiding his rucksack behind a green dumpster, Adrian briefly hopes that no one would steal it, because his work clothes were in there, plus some ninja stars that he couldn’t carry.

Not having his full armour because it obviously couldn’t fit in his bag, did put him at a disadvantage of course, but that’s why he trained as hard as he could.

…especially in hand to hand combat.

Debating his opening line Adrian bounces on his feet but stops dead when he hears, the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired, a million and one desperate thoughts litter his mind as he races further down to the back entrance of the coffee shop.

“Was you supposed to do that?” Phoebe asks aiming her question at the balaclava dude, who stupidly just shot his own leg and right now he was on the floor groaning in pain.

“Does it look like it?!” Curses the idiot on the floor sarcasm pouring from his voice kind of like the blood from his leg wound.

“Look, who do I need to call?” You exclaim cutting off one of the other idiots as you forcefully retort “ Either an Uber to get you to the hospital or the cops you decide.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary right now.” A deep voice states loudly behind you, turning round to spot the whole reason why this was all happening right now.

“Oh shit, it’s Vigilante!” Phoebe cries with apparent glee that makes you roll your eyes, why was this masked idiot even in Evergreen still, and not like in jail where he should be.

“That’s the asshole!?” The guy on the floor yells like no one had yet seen Vigilante standing there, arms folded across his firm chest wearing a black long sleeve that was definitely working wonders for him.

You shake your head angrily at that thought, why was it that right now you were checking out the masked guy, and not like grabbing Phoebe instead to make a quick exit out of this place.

“Don’t just fucking stand there and gawp get him!” Balaclava guy snaps causing you to look back at Vigilante who was still rooted to the spot.

“I think we should leave-“ You begin slowly.

“Nobody moves!” Shouts man bun guy moving away from his hurt teammate on the floor, causing Phoebe to step back from the counter and you grab firmly onto her lower arm.

“I think that you guys are finished here right?” Vigilante questions whilst walking straight past you and Phoebe, to vault over the counter despite it being open at the end to land straight on top of the man-bun guy.

“Get him!” Groans balaclava dude trying to get up from the floor, not doing a great job seeing there was a lot of blood around him he must have shot himself pretty deep.

Adrian grabs at the guy he was currently standing on, pulling one of his arms out he then stomps on it firmly, joyous was the screams that erupted from the idiot as he continued to kick the crap out of him.

“Trying to hold up a coffee shop? Pretty lame job guys I think the shooting yourself aspect a sweet twist though.” Vigilante states with a deep laugh that reverberates through his mask emphasising the glee tenfold.

“They were here for you!” Phoebe announces which makes you widen her eyes at her whilst she grins back.

“Well here I am ladies!” Vigilante announces loudly.

“I am going to kill you once and for all myself!” Balaclava dude shouts finally standing up and looking super pissed off as he attempts to swipe at Vigilante.

“Who are you even I-“

“You killed his brother!” Shouts the short redhead angrily as he then states “ And now it’s your turn!”

“Can you at least take this outside?” You shout noticing a group of people standing around by the store front, several holding phones up which were in turn obscuring their faces.

“It’s fine babe I’ve got this!” Vigilante waves off your comment with a cocky shake of his head, which briefly makes you narrow your eyes at the masked idiot despite the fact he was helping you out.

….none of this made sense?!

Where was Adrian in all this? Vigilante’s number one fan boy and he was nowhere in sight, probably got called away by Scott who was off work today, this information somehow annoyed you even more.

“Nothing to see here!” Vigilante announces whilst holding the injured criminal in a firm headlock, before he drops down on the floor pulling a perfected wrestling move, he must have learned from a certain wrestling federation.

“Fuck!!!!” Screeches the guy on the floor no longer caring about his leg wound, because his head had just aggressively met the floor, causing you to look away.

“Should I be calling the cops?” Phoebe asks you, looking a little ashamed as she continues to film on her phone what was happening, whilst Vigilante destroyed the shop.

Sure he was beating the crap out of these guys, who granted were idiots but did they even deserve this, also the masked anti hero had broken a display that you had spent ages preparing the other day.

“I don’t even know your brother who I apparently killed?” Vigilante questions whilst two of the three assailants were laying on the floor, hell you weren’t even sure if they were breathing.

“Wild hearts-“

“Oh fuck, that shitty little crew?”Vigilante retorts incredulously then with a muffled snort adds “The have all long gone, long gone if you get my meaning.”

“I’m calling the cops-“

“Wait, I’m not done yet!” Exclaims Vigilante in a deep voice , cutting you off as he tries to grab the last guy, who was stupidly trying to flee the scene.

“You are making things worse!” You snap clearly over all of this, wishing you could just shut the shop up and leave with Phoebe by your side.

“How am I making things worse?” Questions Vigilante with his gloved hands firmly attached to his hips,head tilted to the right obscured obviously by the ski mask.

“You’ve bought your bullshit back in here and I want you to fucking leave!” You shout angrily considering your idea from moments ago of just fleeing the scene.

“Thank you for protecting me Vigilante, you are such a hero and a badass!” Vigilante mimics your voice terribly as he shakes his hips at the same time.

“Can you just get the fuck out-“

“The cops have been called!” Cuts in Phoebe gleefully then pointing to the masked idiot adds “ You better leave Vigilante.”

“One sec.” Vigilante laments as he reaches one hand into the pocket of his fitted trousers, pulling out something you cannot see until it’s thrown at the guy who was trying to escape.

…huh ninja star, explains a lot.

“What the fuck?!” Cries the last guy to hit the floor, trying to get aforementioned item out of his back without much luck at all.

“I did it! Thank you ladies and gentleman, what a performance?!” Vigilante shouts raising both arms above his head, which briefly causes his fitted black long sleeve to rise up, you feel Phoebe hit you very hard on the arm.

“Can you get-“

“One more thing before I go.” Vigilante cuts you off which makes you fold your arms across your chest, but soon you drop them to your sides, wondering what the hell you were currently watching.

“This is my victory dance!” Announces Vigilante out of breath, hands still above his head as he shakes his whole body it was a sight to behold, truly.

Moments later you hear the chorus to one of Beyoncé’s songs being played out, quickly looking at Phoebe who was pointing back at the masked weirdo, currently gyrating his hips which made you close your mouth.

“My butt, my butt, look at my crazy, sexy butt!” Adrian sings whilst placing both his gloved hands on the back of his ass, as he continues to shake what his mama gave him.

You find yourself unable to look away from what was happening, which was Vigilante dancing like he had not a single care whatsoever, the lucky bastard.

“Adrian would be super jealous right now if he saw your face.”Laughed Phoebe catching the look you make which was apparently a picture to say the least.

“Here are the cops!” You announce at the same time your co worker turns the song off from her phone, causing Vigilante to stop dancing like he was in a dance club and not a coffee shop.

“That’s my cue!-“

“Thank you Vigilante!” Phoebe cuts off whatever the masked guy was going to say, instead he salutes the both of you then races out the back, hopefully that would be the last you ever saw of him again.

“I better go talk to the cops.” You begin stepping out from behind the counter, avoiding the three guys all groaning on the floor, being especially careful not to slip on the blood either.

“Think I need a moment!” Declares Phoebe with a low whistle escaping her lips as she states “That was so hot, I need to call Vince and see if he’s free now I’m horny.”

“From all this!?” You question your voice sounding disbelieving despite enjoying the ridiculous dance that Vigilante had performed a little too much yourself.

“Don’t judge!” Pouts Phoebe but it soon transforms into a grin when she adds “ I bet if Adrian was here right now you would be all over him.”

“It’s not like that-“

“Sure, you are just friends who now hook up, the greatest idea that has never gone wrong in the history of ever.” Phoebe retorts quickly complete with a smug smile to finish off her statement with a flourish.

“Yeah, just friends.” You announce flippantly whilst watching, as two uniformed cops finally walk into the shop, taking in the ridiculous scene around them.

…it was going to be a long night and you really, really, really didn’t need this bullshit right now.

With a smile that just wouldn’t quit, Adrian believes that earlier tonight had gone so well, sure he had originally been there just for his roommate but the final payoff had been immense.

A bunch of losers looking for Vigilante when he was right there, literally under all of their noses, it was too perfect he just hoped that his roommate now appreciated the masked vigilante a little bit more.

Adrian knew that he shouldn’t have felt so smug about all this, but he just couldn’t believe his luck, so much so that he had spent a lot of time this evening hunting other criminals.

…why waste a good run of luck when things were going so good!

Smirking to himself under his mask he just couldn’t shake off how happy he felt, gone was the stupid idea of him hiding away from you, Adrian could just continue to be himself and no one else would be the wiser.

Only difference now was that he was hooking up with you, he clearly cared about y/n despite telling everyone otherwise, but Adrian could in no way ever tell you the truth about himself.

Well not anytime soon anyway because he wanted to protect you, and in turn himself definitely not wanting you to get hurt for his own actions, also how could he even begin to explain everything to you.

Scott liked to joke that it was so obvious who Vigilante was, but Adrian knew he had a pretty good track record at hiding his endeavours, it was just that he needed to play this well and somehow make his BFF proud.

It was moments like this quite late at night, that he found himself wondering about Chris Smith, because Adrian missed the guy so much but he was also glad that you were still around.

Scott however usually scoffed at Adrian whenever he bought up his real bff, citing that his oldest friend was still around, and his crush was rotting in some prison somewhere.

Granted that was true but Adrian hated the idea of Chris being in trouble or even worse dead, that was the final thought that made his smile slip of his face, how had he even gone from thinking of you to this?

Locking away those thoughts somewhere in the back of his mind, Adrian goes to call Chris it was a habit he still had yet cut out, listening as it goes to voicemail reminding him that he also missed hanging out with Eagly as well.

Shoving said phone back down deep into his pocket, he ponders the idea of bringing home a pet back to the apartment, wondering if you would be cool with either a guinea pig or something way more exotic.

Adrian stands up from his position on the curb, considering his idea for a moment but then thinks better of it, as he imagines a tiger for example wrecking the apartment which wouldn’t go in his favour for sure.

…more importantly where would he even get a tiger and at this hour of the night, it was impossible.

“Thank you officer for the lift back.” You tell the female cop who grins back friendly, brushing some curly dark brown hair from her face, and with one final wave she disappears from view.

Wow, and you thought that Adrian was the masked Vigilante’s number one fan? He had nothing on this woman who short of keeping a scrapbook, knew an awful lot about the masked maniac’s coming and goings.

Telling you how others teased her on the knowledge she held, the guy was an obvious psychopath of course but he was interesting in his movements, oh and hey did you see his ass?

Not like literally of course but your mind betrays your bad mood, by recalling the moment that Vigilante had won and broke out dancing, shaking his cute butt like his life depended on it.

…was it wrong that the aforementioned image was now a core memory for you?

Chucking down your bag at the same time you shake that very thought away, you recall why you was still in such a mood, oh yeah it was because of your roommate.

Where the fuck was Adrian? Seeing how he had just left without even saying goodbye, was he in trouble or like you kept suspecting just avoiding you.

What had you done? Everything was cool from your end of things, what was wrong with Adrian, did he think the sex was bad or something between you.

That thought makes you stop directly in your tracks, on your way through to the open plan kitchen, fuck had Adrian gone cold were you acting too needy or something for him?

Ok you were back to spiralling all over again, when in fact you should be angry at Adrian for leaving you at Karma coffee, because something bad could have actually happened earlier tonight.

Now that’s the thought which leaves a sour lump in your throat, what if the guys holding up the coffee shop had actually been competent in their field, leaving yourself or Phoebe injured or worse in their shitty efforts.

Luckily Vigilante had happened to appear at the right time, which was also suspicious but you knew Evergreen was filled with idiots and psychopaths, even though this specific one did kind of save your life.

…once again.

Taking a deep breath you feel overwhelmed with your thoughts, so take a seat on the floor instead of the stool beside you, placing both of your hands flat on the cold wooden surface you ground yourself.

Usually evenings working with Phoebe were spent listening to her talk on and on, she spoke enough for both of you sometimes, during those moments when you needed quiet most of the time.

Instead tonight had been a complete mess which left you feeling a little lost, not to mention how you were going to explain everything to Conor tomorrow, he would find out a way to blame you for all this somehow.

You chuckle to yourself when you realise that more than anything right now, you wished that Adrian was here with you for a cuddle, seeing how he gave the best hugs understanding the cue when you needed comfort most.

…which was super sweet, because he knew your needs even better than you did sometimes.

Remembering that he wasn’t even here to yell at makes you angry all over again, was he playing games or just being oblivious, clearly you didn’t know the answer which makes you silently scream into your hands.

Fuck this, you needed a shower to wash away the events of tonight, hopefully Adrian would be back by the time you were finished, then you could finally have some kind of a talk with him.

…maybe even finish the night with some make up sex.

That was what it actually boiled down to, you were still frustrated of course and the past couple of days hadn’t helped one bit, so all you needed was one night to make things right.

Apparently this was clearly asking too much when you finish drying your hair, leaving it messy and curly to match your feelings, because of course Adrian wasn’t back yet.

But this wasn’t good enough for you, because it was about time you finally had some answers, otherwise you would not be sleeping again tonight which was not an option.

Fine if he wanted to play the avoidance card then you would try and get his attention, despite the fact you had been doing the exact same, but that didn’t matter right now obviously.

Calling his number only leads to Adrian’s voicemail, where you were seconds away from leaving a message, but instead you call him another five times in a row all yielding the same result.

…where the fuck was he?!

Scott watches the TV through both of his hands which were poorly shielding his eyes, Karma coffee was on the late night news, whilst Adrian was sat next to him narrating over the reporter what had taken place.

“Vigilante saves the day yet again this evening, but sadly there were no casualties not even one bad guy died, which was a little disheartening-“

“I can’t actually believe this!” Scott cuts off Adrian loudly as he continues “How the hell is y/n because I know she was working late tonight?”

“Well that’s the thing…” Begins Adrian with a loud sigh which causes his friends eyes to widen but he soon consoles Scott as he states “oh no she’s fine! Still pretty sore at Vigilante but I will soon win her over.”

“That’s all you have to fucking say?” Scott asks with a firm punch to Adrian’s right side as he adds “ Please tell me the whole story, plus why the fuck are you even here and not with your roommate-“

Scott stops talking when he hears his friends annoying ringtone, some Britney Spears song that made him want to rip out his own ears, but that was a whole other thing.

“Who is it-“

“I better take this.” Adrian declares with a blank look on his face, closely followed by a loud audible gulp which makes Scott grab the TV remote to mute the news.

Staring at the phone screen you cannot believe your eyes, when you notice that Adrian had actually answered the call, his voicemail hadn’t kicked in after eleven rings so that was actually him speaking.

“It’s you!” You announce in a way more softer tone than you were originally going for in your opening statement.

“Hey y/n how are things?” Adrian asks you trying to go for smooth, but it falls pretty flat even to your own ears.

“How am I?” You retort sarcastically the fact you had been happy to get hold of him, was swiftly replaced by that anger you had been holding onto quite tightly.

Hearing muffled voices on Adrian’s end you can clearly make out Scott’s voice, warning his friend about something, quickly followed by a door closing loudly.

“I’m alone now-“

“Are you at Scott’s?” You demand cutting off whatever your roommate was about to say whilst surmising “So you skipped out of Karma without even saying goodbye to me, when moments later the actual store was held up!”

There is a far too long pause ,which makes you look at your screen to make sure the call was still active, what the hell was Adrian playing at?

“I-er I had to go to work I was running super late, wow the shop was actually held up how are you?” Adrian replies eventually complete with stumbling his words, leaving you with a brief sense that this guy was indeed talking absolute crap.

“So you do care then? Well your fanboy crush Vigilante came and saved us somehow-“

“Oh, shoot did I miss Vigilante?” Adrian questions quickly cutting you off yet again, which was still very fucking annoying.

“Yeah, if you had stayed at the shop you would’ve seen your fave anti hero, maybe even had time to get his autograph.” You state voice filled with venom, because this was not going how you had expected it to.

“I don’t carry my autograph book everywhere with me-“

“That was sarcasm, how could you have left me, I haven’t seen you for days and then you fuck off again?!” You snap cutting off Adrian this time, who you then hear sigh down the phone, like this call was an inconvenience for him.

“Honestly I was just busy.” Adrian laments in a low voice which makes you roll your eyes as he states “ I genuinely had to work, I’ve been busy, I thought I was being breezy.”

You cannot help but laugh after Adrian says this, but then you quickly imagine his face that kicked puppy look which made you want to protect him, but was he telling the truth?

“I think I should crash at Scott’s tonight-“

“I think that you should to!” You yell hanging up the call on Adrian, feeling nowhere near less angry than earlier, which meant yep you guessed it.

…fuck all sleep.

Your mind was wide awake as you fought with your own thoughts, stuck staring up at the living room ceiling, laying on one of the couches instead of your own bed.

It wasn’t as if this was a serious relationship or anything, but you both needed boundaries that went without saying, especially seeing how today had been an unmitigated disaster.

…yet despite all of this you still would kill to be in Adrian’s arms right now, what the hell was wrong with you?

Closing your eyes you cannot help but imagine Adrian laying down next to you, no wait him sitting on the couch with your head on his lap, gently stroking your hair whilst his other hand rests low on your hip.

…ready to move lower at a moments notice the thought makes a soft whine escape your lips, making you roll onto your front to bury your face in much needed embarrassment.

Thanks to the ludicrous events back at Karma coffee, both yourself and Phoebe are rewarded with the next couple of days off work, and you didn’t even have a speech prepared to thank everyone.

Clearly you were still in a bad mood over everything, how had things been so good recently and then all this shit suddenly happened at once, what’ve you done to deserve this?

The last time you had heard from Adrian was a day and a half ago, so you were granted free rein of the apartment, still annoyed that you had woken up in a horny frame of mind this morning.

It was like you had arrived full circle all over again, which surely meant that this cycle of shit was now over, despite the fact that you were still super frustrated and overwhelmed.

Go figure that anger acted just like an aphrodisiac, of course only in certain cases like right now, because you were truly finding it hard to cope without your mind drifting back to your roommate.

It was hot and you felt like you were on fire, even after having a cold shower but this clearly wasn’t just because of climate change, nope it was because you just needed a real good fuck sesh.

The kind that takes takes your breath away and makes you feel helpless, like whoever your were having sex with was relentless in their efforts to make you orgasm, Adrian liked nothing more than to watch you fully lose it.

A grin spreads across your face one that soon disappears, when you remind yourself you are alone, and taking some time away from your roommate which included not thinking about him.

But that was the thing especially being stuck at the apartment, all you could think about was Adrian his things were all around the place, and you still felt like there was some unresolved words that needed to be said.

Of course he was hiding out at Scott’s place, why you wasn’t exactly sure maybe he was embarrassed he had left Karma coffee, leaving you with a psychopath and three idiot criminals.

Besides none of that actually mattered when it was too warm for clothes, the thought had crossed your mind to just walk around naked, but Adrian wasn’t here and you didn’t even know when he would be back.

Piling your hair into a messy bun, pretty sure that you had even missed a few strands of hair but there was no one here to impress, so you decided to wear a dark purple lace bralette and underwear to complete the look.

Walking back out of your room you decide to make yourself useful, obviously you needed a distraction seeing how work wasn’t on the cards, so it was time to sort out and fold your clean washing instead.

…rock and fucking roll.

Either way this would help keep you occupied for at least a few minutes, and take your mind off thinking about Adrian, how much you wanted to shout at him and then let him bend you over the couch.

Focus you remind yourself carrying on with the task in hand, until you come across a super faded black tee shirt that most definitely wasn’t yours, which meant that is must be Adrian’s.

Holding the tee shirt up makes you grin cheekily, the fabric was very soft and there were chipped red words on both sides, which were both funny and ridiculous.

“Don’t do drugs.” You announce out loud reading the front of the tee, then as you switch it round quickly state with a quick giggle “Do me.”

The very image makes warm heat throb rapidly between your legs, as a delicious thought sharply enters your mind, wouldn’t it actually be great if Adrian appeared whilst you were wearing his tee shirt.

Before overthinking it you pull the soft tee shirt over your head, pretty much at the same time that there is a loud knock on the front door, unable to believe your luck you head through the kitchen.

Sure Adrian wasn’t one to knock on the door but maybe he wanted to apologise, which would be music to your ears, and then the real fun would finally begin.

Too caught up in the idea that it actually was your roommate, you ignore the fact you were wearing a tee that just covered your ass, complete with cute lacy underwear underneath and open the front door desperately.

…go on guess who it was!?

{TAGLIST} comment to join♥️

@tiannamortis @sammyisfat @amysuemc @likedovesinthewnd @clairevoyanceee @maplefire18 @neepo @sapphicandserendipityy @bioluminescentwoerms @empressvader @adrianmunson

#adrian chase #freddie stroma #adrian chase fan fics #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase is a babe #peacemaker #vigilante #adrian chase x female reader #freddie stroma is too powerful #vigilante x female reader #catch up with roommates #roommates fic #currently writing #part two of the series #slow burn to eventual smut #cheesy fluff #fluff and heart eyes #hope you enjoy

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curiousb · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 mutuals

Thanks for tagging me, @vimpse and @simsdada!

1. are you named after anyone?

Yes-ish? My first name is a feminised form of my father’s name, and also my maternal grandmother's middle name. Sadly, she died long before I was born, when my mother was only three years old, so I’m quite glad that her name lives on with me. My royalist mother also had a thing about a minor English princess, so I have her name as my middle name.

2. when was the last time you cried?

I honestly don’t remember - probably a few months ago. There has to be something very, very wrong for me to cry. It’s something I avoid doing, as I don’t like to lose control of my emotions.

3. do you have kids?

No, as a conscious choice. I’m really not cut out to be a parent, but I’ve never actually wanted to become one anyway, so it’s all worked out fine!

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

I try not to, as I think it can be cruel, but it depends on the circumstances!

5. what sports do you play/have you played?

Although I didn’t know this until quite recently, I have dyspraxia. So, sport and I have never been on good terms! Yes, I was always that kid - the one who was chosen last for teams at school. I’ve also always despised exercise simply for the sake of it. But, seven years ago I randomly took up Shotokan Karate - my husband had taken it up a couple of years before, and it was the first physical activity that had ever looked like fun to me! This year, I was finally awarded my black belt (1st Dan). Thanks to my dyspraxia, and pesky osteoarthritis, it’s taken me nearly twice as long as anyone else to get to this point, but I absolutely love it - it’s the perfect blend of mental and physical challenge - and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s been fantastic for my balance, coordination, strength, agility, self-confidence and mental health. I’m now working towards being awarded 2nd Dan, in a couple of years hopefully. :)

6. what’s the first thing you notice about other people?

I found out only a few years ago, as an adult, that I’m autistic. But, I think the thing I’ve always picked up on when meeting someone new - even before I was consciously aware of this - is whether they are also possibly neurodivergent, and hence whether we have an immediate connection. I now realise that nearly all my friends have also been neurodivergent in some way (also autistic, ADHD, dyscalculia), and that the friendships naturally sprang from an instinctive understanding, thanks to similarities in our way of perceiving and processing the world.

7. scary movies or happy endings?

Can I say neither? I have a ridiculously overactive imagination, and although I absolutely do not believe in the supernatural, scary films play on my mind literally forever. And I’m simply unmoved by clichéd happy endings. I prefer films that make me think or imagine, and I’m quite partial to ambiguous endings, where I’m left to decide for myself what has actually happened, or what might happen next; ‘Inception’ is one of my favourite films. :)

I also love plain old sci-fi, with any kind of ending!

8. any special talents?

I’m a master at packing stuff into spaces in the most efficient way possible. Not very exciting perhaps, but useful.

I’m also very good at inductive reasoning. (Which is generally what Sherlock Holmes uses, not deduction.)

9. where were you born?

In the UK. Which is sadly just one big embarrassment these days.

10. what are your hobbies?

Ever since I first laid my hands on a computer, my first love has been video gaming. The Sims of course (1 and 2 - couldn’t get into 3 and haven’t bothered with 4), which I always come back to, but also various strategy games, such as the Civilization series. Also, choral/ensemble singing and genealogy. Oh, and my beloved karate of course!

11. do you have any pets?

No, I can barely look after myself, let alone be responsible for another lifeform too! In an ideal world, I’d have guinea pigs (which I had as a child and just adore, as they are the sweetest creatures imaginable), or perhaps rats.

12. how tall are you?

5′ 4.5″

13. fave subject in school?

Biology. I was born to be a scientist, and have always found the phenomenon of life to be endlessly fascinating.

14. dream job?

Once I would have said scientist - which I am now - but interesting though it can be, there’s also a lot of stress. I think that now, I’d rather be a self-employed professional genealogist. I’m considering trying to make the switch.

15. eye colour?

Grey-green. I didn’t used to like the colour, but I’ve grown to appreciate it more now, as it’s a little unusual.

I’m just going to tag a few random people, who I don’t think have played along yet, although my memory is shocking so forgive me if I’m wrong about that! As always, please also feel free to ignore: @tvickiesims, @roguebotanist, @clouseplayssims, @fwaysims, @eulaliasims, @plumbtales, @katatty, @moocha-muses, @esotheria-sims, @mypurpleriver, @balkopat, @sushigal007, @frauhupfner, @pforestsims, @beikonsims.

#non-sims #i got tagged!

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masterwords · 10 months

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the shape you take

Summary: Hotch is sad. Jack is just about to turn 18, Hank is spending the summer with his mom and he's dwelling on the empty nest. Morgan has just the ticket: sea, sand, food and naps. Fun in the sun and the sack. While exploring a nude beach one night they find a little more than they bargained for. (Part of The Chicago Times series)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 8.8k

Warnings: sex (not explicit details, just "hey they're having sex" type thing), food & alcohol, mentions of Foyet’s knife, scars (both of them), murder/corpse/blood, an inappropriate boner situation...

Read on AO3: the shape you take

Notes: This is my first entry for @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge. I used one of the NSFW prompts but this is basically PG-13 because I don’t really write smut, just some sexy vibes. The prompts I chose were: Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach mixed with The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap. (They take a lot of naps. They're old.) There are a couple more from the list that I hope to write for before the challenge is finished, but we’ll see where the summer takes me! The end here is purposely left open for a special surprise...another collab with @domestikhighway58! Because writing with hwy58 is a dream and I want to do it all the time. To be unveiled soon-ish. (How's that for noncommittal?) (I'm posting the whole thing here, I haven't done that in a while...do you want me to go back to that or keep just linking AO3?)

Win by persuasion, not by force.

All spring Derek had been dropping hints. Little ones at first. He would add feta cheese to salad one night at dinner, or watch Hercules with Hank when he knew Aaron was going to be coming home from work or a run. Nothing big, but he knew Aaron would pick up on it eventually.

As they approached summer, the tactics became a little less subtle. There was a brochure stuck to the freezer, and a bottle of Greek red wine opened after dinner on Derek’s last day of work for the summer. Aaron had been done a week earlier. They waited to celebrate until everyone was finished and on summer break.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Aaron asks, pouring the wine and watching the boys set the table. Hank likes to fold the napkins while Jack sets out the silverware. Too many years separate them and yet Jack has been drawn closer to him in the last few months as he realizes how close he is to moving out, not seeing his little brother every day. He’d waited years to have one and it feels like it’s over way too soon. He wants to go to college in New York, but Hank makes him want to stay in Chicago instead. The thought of not being here, of missing big milestones, is crushing. Some small part of him thinks he knows how his dad must have felt missing his milestones for work – first words, first steps, first day of school, first everything. He’s going to move to New York and he’s going to miss all sorts of big moments.

“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” Derek replies, scooting between the counter and Aaron, pressing in so close they barely have room to breathe. “I am telling you something.”

“When?” Aaron asks, because he knows better than to ask stupid questions. If Derek has the brochure and he’s laying it on this thick, he’s already booked the trip. And that’s okay, because Aaron spent too many years in complete control of everything and watching it all fall spectacularly to pieces...he’s shockingly willing to go with the flow these days.

At least to some degree.

“Jack leaves for New York on the 19th, Savannah’s picking Hank up on the 22nd, and my mom and sisters leave on the 25th. So, we’re leaving on the 25th. We’ll drive them to the airport and then hop on a plane ourselves.”

“When do we come back?”

“I booked the hotel for two weeks but...let’s just play it by ear huh?”

Play it by ear. That phrase would have struck fear into Aaron’s heart a few years ago. Sometimes he still feels like he’s going to make plans and then get a phone call that pulls him back to the BAU. It’s a hard habit to break even after all of these years.

“Two weeks in Greece. Where?”

“We’ll fly to Athens, spend a few days there, and then take the ferry over to Milos. I booked us an ATV rental so we can go wherever we want. We can do some day trips to other islands, go hang out on Crete and do all your nerdy shit...plus beaches, food, hiking, nightlife. Our room on Milos has its own private saltwater pool.”

“Private?” Aaron likes the sound of private. He’s not very interested in all that nightlife type stuff but a private pool? That he can get behind. Of course, if Derek asked him to dance he could hardly turn him down.

“I’ll show you pictures after dinner.”

Jack’s going to be 18 in a few months. This is his last summer of high school. He’s decided to skip sports and summer camps in lieu of spending two months living with Sean who has done good things with his life in his time since being released from jail. Sean who has earned, in Aaron’s eyes, his shot at redemption. What Aaron learned as a young teenager being packed off to boarding school, Sean had to learn through just over three years in a small cell, stripped of his liberties. Better late than never. Jack is old enough now to handle himself anyway, he’s more than proven his own responsibility in their years living in Chicago. He drives all over the city, he doesn’t break curfew, he’s really a little too good. It scares Aaron sometimes that he’s not out there causing trouble. Giving them hell. Just another way he thinks he’s broken his son.

He knows that isn’t the case though. Since Jack turned twelve, he’s had Derek and Fran and Sarah and Desiree and Savannah. He’s always had Jessica and Roy, he never doubted his mother’s love for an instant. His support system is full of incredible strength. Aaron knows that even if he’s failed, none of them have. But this trip to Greece, he can tell it’s Derek’s way of trying to pull him out of this spiral he’s sauntering into. This deep well of sadness at his son growing up and moving out, this empty feeling that he’s losing the last part of Haley that was never his to keep in the first place.

“What are you hiding?” Jack asks over dinner. He can tell they’re sitting on something. They’re terrible at keeping secrets.

“Not hiding anything,” Derek says, handing Hank his plate full of cut up steak and salad. “I just told your dad where I’m taking him for summer vacation.”

Jack rolls his eyes and huffs, visibly relieved. “Finally. I thought you’d have to take him all the way to the airport for him to get it.”

“I had a lot going on,” Aaron says a little defensively. It isn’t like he didn’t see Derek’s hints, but his mind was simply not present enough to try and guess why Derek was going crazy for Greece. “Final exams, your trip to New York…”

“Dad.”

Aaron throws his hands up in exasperation and smiles. “Take it easy on your old man. This is a hard time.”

Jack stops at that, he knows the idea of him moving out is killing his dad slowly. They’ve been on their own together for so long now he’s a little scared himself. “Well, you guys have to send tons of pictures.”

“Of course.”

Aaron cries when he hugs Jack goodbye at the airport. He manages to wait until Jack is far enough away that he doesn’t see it, but Jack knows it’s happening, he knows his dad cries easily so he doesn’t turn around. He saves him the trouble of trying to hide it. And he calls the minute his plane lands at JFK to let his dad know he’s safe and just as planned (and on time), Sean is waiting for him.

Savannah shows up a day early unannounced, her flight was changed due to weather. She sleeps in Jack’s room and spends a little more time in the city with family than expected. It’s a nice surprise for them all, and keeps Aaron from feeling too gutted at Jack’s absence. Having a full house means he’s making coffee and planning meals and making sure everyone is taken care of, it hardly leaves him any time at all to worry about whether Jack is getting into trouble in New York. (He’s not. Nothing too bad anyway. Sean might have encouraged him to live a little...but they’ll keep that to themselves. Sean is reformed, he’s no angel.)

When Savannah takes Hank, and it’s just the two of them for a few days, they spend their time preparing their house to sit empty for weeks. They have people lined up to come check on things, get the mail, mind the yards but for the most part it’ll just sit. They pack their bags and eat off of paper plates in the days leading up to their trip. They empty their cupboards and refrigerator. It feels like working in the BAU, never being able to keep anything perishable on hand just in case. Aaron always joked that it was incredible that none of them ended up with scurvy.

At the airport, they walk Derek’s mom and sisters to their gate. Off to Hawaii, a vacation paid for by he and Aaron. A sort of thank you for taking care of them, for helping with Hank, for everything. “All inclusive means all inclusive, mom,” Derek says as he wraps her in a hug. “You put on the little bracelet and you don’t pay for a damn thing. You want a piña colada? You get one. You want a meal? You get one. Don’t skimp okay?”

“Oh, believe me...I won’t be…” Desiree says with a smirk and Sarah agrees.

“Gonna make sure I drink every drop you paid for.”

“Girls!”

Fran still can’t believe she’s going to Hawaii. She’s never been on a plane that’s gone farther than Virginia. She’s never been west. She’s anxious to fly over the ocean, but more than that, she just can’t believe her son is in a place now that he’s married and buying tropical vacations for her and his sisters like it’s nothing. If you asked her where she saw her life going when her husband died and she was thrust into being a single mother struggling to survive on the south side of Chicago, this wouldn’t have ever occurred to her.

“Be safe on your trip,” she says as she hugs Aaron around the neck. “Don’t let him do anything dangerous. I don’t want any pictures of him jumping off of cliffs or swimming in the open ocean.”

“I don’t want any of that either,” Aaron says, knowing with absolute certainty that if Derek wants to do either of those things he won’t be able to stop him. He’d like to say that he wouldn’t be doing those things, but if Derek grabbed him by the hand and asked him to jump off of a cliff into the crystal blue water, or climb down off of a boat and swim in the open sea...he isn’t sure he could say no, even if he wanted to.

“Don’t let him eat too much cheese, it makes him sick,” Fran adds, still holding Aaron’s neck. He nods.

“I know.”

“And you! Don’t you worry about Jack or the house or...anything. Don’t get sunburned. Eat good food. Smile. Have fun. Make memories.”

“You too.”

(x)

He’s drunk on sunshine and the sound of waves. On blood red wine and salty, briny cheeses and oil soaked olives. Decadence never appealed to him, but being here on their private patio, his feet dangling in a small private pool and staring out at the Aegean Sea that’s about as lazy and warm as he feels right now he wonders why. Derek is sleeping on the bed just inside the sliding doors, bathing in glorious sunlight. A cat nap, he said over an hour ago. At their age a cat nap tends to turn into an afternoon lost to dreams.

They started the nap together, lazy and lounging, twisted tangled limbs and feather soft kisses as they drifted off. But he was hungry so he got up before he managed to fall completely asleep. Untangled himself from Derek’s sweaty grip and padded barefoot toward the fridge for some food. Cheese and olives left over from their breakfast, an apple sliced with some honey. He’s practically starving by the time he’s sitting on the balcony with a plate on his lap watching the seagulls and the cats battle for scraps that the tide left behind.

He’s never loved the beach. Sand gets everywhere, it smells bad, and people are rude. They rarely stay in their own areas, you have to fight for a space. Too crowded. He wonders how people find it at all relaxing. But this? Overlooking the beach from his own balcony, this is good. No sand, all ocean as far as he can see. Islands in the distance. He counts them off mentally, notes which ones they’ve already traveled to, visualizes his way through them. Storing those memories tight in there. He doesn’t want to forget a moment and he’s afraid he already has.

Beside him is a journal, just a little notebook filled with shorthand and chicken scratch, things he wants to do and things he wants to remember to tell Jack about. It calms the storm in his mind to have it all written down.

Jack is pulling away, naturally, but Aaron got a text the day before with a photo of him eating with Beth and Sean. She insisted on seeing him when she came on a work trip, and Aaron thinks she’s more beautiful than ever. He still loves her a little, he never really falls out of love with anyone. People imprint on him and he can’t let them go. It doesn’t make any difference, he knows Derek still feels the same about Savannah. It just works for them.

“How long did I sleep?” Derek’s voice floats through the room, out onto the patio on the breeze. His words are jumbled and muffled by the pillow his face is still smashed into. Aaron smiles.

“A while,” is his reply. He’s trying to let go of itineraries and timelines. He’s trying not to look at clocks at all, really. Clocks remind him of time passing and he’s better off without that on his mind. “Not too long.”

“Mmmfff…” Derek mumbles and Aaron can hear the sleep smile, the way his eyes are still closed and he’s considering whether to let himself go back to sleep or get up and rummage through the cupboards himself. His shoulders are a mountain of bronze and Aaron glances back into the room, thinks about the way they would taste, the skin salty and warm against his lips. He’s tempted to get out of the pool, and then he decides he might lay a trap instead to get Derek to come to him.

“I have a snack,” He offers. It’s almost too easy. “I might share it with you.”

“What’s the catch?” Derek asks, sitting upright and scrubbing his hands down his face. He’s sweaty, the humidity drenches his skin and he needs a shave again already. Aaron can’t take his eyes off of Derek out here, it’s like the light is in love with him, it paints him in a way that Aaron can’t resist. He’s carved from the cliffs and chiseled by the hands of the gods. Meanwhile, Aaron is pretty sure he just looks like a drowned rat. His hair, a little too long for his taste, hangs limp where it would normally be mussed up and messy against his will. An unruly mop, now tamed by humidity.

“No catch.”

“Alright, then what’s it gonna cost me?”

Aaron smiles and tilts his face to the sky expectantly. He’s waiting for Derek to appear above him. “A kiss.”

A kiss is a dangerous thing and as they slip easily into the still pool water unclothed, Aaron thinks they’re bound to end up back in the bed sooner rather than later. The water is a cool break from the oppressive heat of the afternoon sun. Aaron dunks himself first, goes under like a torpedo and slicks his hair back from his eyes when he surfaces. Derek put a headband on him the other day and on principal he hated it, but he didn’t take it off either, at least not for a while. It kept the hair out of his eyes. Derek said he looked cute. The water works just as well now. Derek stares at him in awe and smiles, thumbs smoothing over the droplets that cling to Aaron’s eyelashes.

“You are gorgeous,” he muses, hands cupping Aaron’s jaw, leaning in for a kiss. They wrap around one another, limbs tangling, turning and bouncing weightless in the aquamarine. “Do you even have any idea?”

Aaron hums. It’s a delighted sound that Derek craves, it means he’s in the mood for a little more than kissing. Moving together in unison, their bodies making ripples across the otherwise calm surface, they can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. Aaron envisioned historical site visits and hikes, ferry trips between islands, all sorts of excursions and so far the thing he’d explored the most was the expanse of Derek’s body. With two kids at home, they don’t get as much alone time as they’d like and it’s just about all they can think to do now. They’re going to have to stay an extra week just to actually experience more than just the inside of a hotel room.

“Wanna go inside?” Derek asks, nose pressed against Aaron’s shoulder, littering kisses amid saltwater droplets. Aaron moans deep and sonorous.

“Absolutely,” he smiles, head lolling back, adam’s apple bobbing dangerously. Derek licks and bites, lifts Aaron into his arms and turns until he’s floating on his back, Aaron on top of him. He kicks and pushes them toward the steps, dipping below the surface once or twice, turning until he’s on top, acrobatics they’re old pros at a week into this hotel. Dancing in the water has become a sort of specialty. Naughty synchronized swimming. Neither of them wants to get out, the foreplay is just as fun, chilly fingers working at delicate skin, hips rocking and muscles twitching.

Inside, they dry off quickly and leap into the bed before their skin adjusts to the temperature of the room again. The sex is languorous and slow, they have nowhere to be, no one expecting them. Afterward they shower, still touching, still kissing, they almost head back to bed except they’re both starving. They come to an agreement that they need to make their way into town for dinner after discussing the possibility of one more quick fuck. It isn’t in the cards, though. Derek is about to gnaw his own arm off he says, so they dress and start their slow evening walk. The ATV sits in its spot waiting for them to take some interest in something other than sex and a walk to town.

They’ve eaten at the same restaurant the last three nights in a row, it’s never as busy as the others and the owners don’t mind the way that they want to just sit quietly and eat their way through small plates of everything with bottles of wine. They’ve tried a lot of the menu, and now the cooks are just sending the plates on the fly. Testing things out.

The owners, an elderly couple with gnarled hands and twinkling eyes the color of the Aegean, like to listen to their stories (the less terrible ones anyway, they spare them that). They look at these two men, Aaron with his salt and pepper hair that’s definitely got a lot more salt these days lighting up his temples and Derek with his goatee that’s shimmering with silver sparkles and they can’t believe they carried guns and caught serial killers. “It sounds like a movie,” one of them says in a thick accent that makes Aaron melt. “It can’t be real.”

But they have pictures. The two of them in the office, candid shots that remind them of days gone by. Days they miss with every fiber of their beings but wouldn’t repeat for anything. Days when taking a nap seemed as absurd as the sky suddenly turning bright yellow. Now, missing a nap is ludicrous. They get off work in the early afternoon and siesta before they even decide what to make for dinner. Vacation just means more naps, and it does seem crazy that there was a time in Aaron’s life that he needed to carry two weapons or that he was put in the hospital by a serial killer. It’s like a different life, a different person. He can understand why they don’t exactly believe him.

“Baba ganoush,” Derek says as soon as they sit down. It’s become his favorite food in the world since they landed in Athens. Since they made their way from Athens to Milos. He’d eat it with a spoon if that were socially acceptable, he likes it that much. And here, they drench it in olive oil and pine nuts and thick green parsley. Aaron chooses small plates of seafood that make Derek squirm in his seat, prawns with their eyes still staring at him and octopus tentacles purple and swirling and spiraling over the edge of the plate dramatically. Aaron is an adventurous eater now. He always had it in him but his job made him paranoid and sick, ulcers eating away at him from the inside. There are still plenty of days when he walks around with an ache deep in his stomach, but it’s less to do with food and more to do with how his body functions after Foyet played mad surgeon with him.

Aaron’s favorite is the fried anchovies. It’s the only thing Derek has tried that he won’t touch again. “It’s like cat food with extra salt. The bones are like little razors,” he’d said, swallowing it only because he didn’t want to be rude. He really wanted to spit it into his napkin.

Their table is full of tiny plates, dips and seafood and breads. Olive oil and bread is a constant. Derek can’t remember the last time he ate so many carbs so happily. They’ll get full and lean back, sipping their wine contentedly until there’s room and then eat a little more. Whatever doesn’t get eaten is taken back to their little hotel fridge and they’ll snack on it the rest of the night and maybe even for breakfast, though they do like wandering into town to find food for breakfast just after the sun has crested the horizon.

“So, I was thinking,” Derek says as they walk back to the hotel hand in hand. They each have a to-go box in the other hand. “You wanna go check out that ancient theater they got up on that hill? Go drop this off, grab the ATV and explore?”

“You mean leave the hotel room for more than food?” Aaron asks with mock surprise.

Aaron smiles and nods before Derek can respond. He can’t imagine anything better than absorbing more history. They’d made plenty of stops while in Athens but nothing so far here. He’s nowhere near his limit. “Leave the notebook,” Derek tells him when they drop off their food and grab a blanket. “You can write it down later.” It might be hot during the day but it gets chilly at night, the briny wind coming in off of the sea is bound to make Aaron shiver. He used to poke fun at him for how his blood seemed to run like rivers of ice, a blessing in the heat when he wants to wear his suits on a case in Florida but when they’re in Alaska and his lips are nearly blue even in his big puffy coat it’s a little problematic. He’d always run cold, but after Foyet, after his heart stopped and too much of his blood was spilled...he can’t seem to shake a chill when it settles in his bones. Here it’s only a minor inconvenience, nothing a blanket draped around his shoulders won’t fix in a snap.

The ATV ride is nice. Aaron clings to Derek’s back, relaxes against him with his hands on his hips and watches the scenery creep by. They don’t go fast, this is the most new that they’ve seen in days. He’s taking it all in.

They’re the only ones in the carved marble and stone theater for a long time. It’s just before sunset, close enough that all of the tourists have ambled away from the other sights and headed for the higher ground, the places they can get their pictures so everyone they’ve ever (or never) met can see what they see. Selfies are king and everyone wants the shot. They aren’t interested in that, they don’t even have social media. For a variety of reasons, perhaps, not the least of which is simply that they covet their privacy.

That doesn’t stop them from taking hundreds of photos, though. They just keep those photos close.

Derek takes pictures of Aaron, his aquiline profile against the glow of dawn, his feet in the sand, his thick fingers against the delicate stem of a wine glass...all of the little pieces of him that he adores so much. A former bomb tech, Derek obsesses over small details. The way the early morning sun plays with the silver at Aaron’s temples or the band-aids he’s always got over skinned knuckles and broken nails. Aaron favors a wider angle, candid shots from far away, admiring the way Derek seems to fit into the strange lunar landscape, terrain created by ancient gods. He looks crafted from their sunbeams and Aaron can’t get enough of the way the sun plays with his skin. He aims his camera as Derek splashes through waves, as he jumps from the highest rock he can find with slicing precision, as he leaps into the ocean from a small boat. He captures Derek napping on a hammock on a boat in the middle of the sea before he lays his camera down to do the same. He clicks the shutter when Derek is laughing at a story he’s being told or learning how to do something new with that intense look of determination and curiosity.

In their old age, they’re kind of obsessed with each other. And neither of them feels bad about it.

“Let’s take our clothes off and have some fun tonight,” Derek says with a slow grin. He’s not even worried Aaron is going to say no, they’re too far in now. Aaron has scaled rock cliffs for him, climbed down (and then back up) ladders and ropes and through steep canons of red rock to get to a secluded little beach. They’re sitting alone in the center of an ancient Greek theater and Aaron is so wrapped up in the idea of watching a performance or a speech here that he doesn’t even give Derek’s question any thought, he simply agrees. Fun sounds good. Fun with Derek always sounds good.

“What kind of fun?” Aaron asks curiously, already knowing that he’s going to do it regardless of the answer. He’s loosened up but he’s still Aaron Hotchner. He doesn’t like to be kept in the dark. Surprises make him uneasy. And more to the point, the idea of sex on the beach is less than appealing no matter what. It doesn’t matter that his husband is a bronze sun god, he doesn’t want sand in his mouth or his ass and that’s pretty final.

“We’re pretty close to a beach that lets you drop your trousers...go all natural...”

“Nothing too crazy. I don’t want sand inside of me but...maybe just…” he starts, ready to suggest that they start fooling around at the beach and head back to their hotel for the rest. He stops mid-sentence when an elderly couple amble past them, two rows down, hardly seeming to mind the conversation they’d been privy to moments before. They lower their voices anyway.

“Please. I did all those boring castle tours.”

“They weren’t boring,” Aaron mutters a little indignantly. Derek kisses his knuckles and smiles.

“No, they weren’t. They were awesome. I just think you’d have a great time...it’s really freeing taking your clothes off. You could use a little freeing.”

Aaron thinks about Jack going off to spend most of his summer in New York. His last summer at home as a child and he wants to be away for most of it...Aaron can hardly begrudge him that, he saved up money all year in order to do this on his own. He’ll be home next summer and they’ll spend the whole thing together as a family, doing everything and doing nothing, Jack promised him that. It’s a give and take with a grown child. But then he thinks about Jack going to college in a year and it makes his chest ache. Around that kind of tightness he thinks he can’t handle any more freedom. They still have Hank. Sweet little Hank who went from only child to youngest and is about to go back to only in many ways. His grasp of the situation is tentative at best, it’s going to be a big adjustment. Derek sees the darkening in Aaron’s eyes and pulls him close, kisses him on the temple. “I know. You don’t need more freedom. I get it. But I want you so bad I can hardly stand it…I’m your ball and chain, baby...you can’t get free of me.”

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” the woman says, startling both of them. The couple is now closer, standing over them from behind. Aaron freezes against Derek’s chest, mortified that these people heard them talking about their rabid libido, but he can’t be bothered for long. Her husband looks mortified. She looks pleased. She’s wearing bright blue pants and a white shirt, she’s clearly gone out of her way to match her surroundings. He can’t quite place her accent. “But I overheard you mentioning finding a...natural...beach? We go every night. You’re right, it is freeing. I’ll show you the beach we like, Harold get the map. It’s busy in the daytime but it empties in the evening. Most families head up to the church to see the sunset, leaving the beach to us.”

Aaron is mortified but Derek is beaming. “What’s your name?”

“Catherine,” she says and Aaron watches the flush in her cheeks when Derek takes her hand and kisses it. “This is my husband Harold.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Aaron says, shaking Harold’s hand.

She hands them her map and Aaron looks at it intently, though he doesn’t bother to tell her he’s already practically memorized the thing. It’s folded in his journal back at their hotel. She points to the beach and to the cove with a smile, her massive collection of gold bracelets crusted with jewels dragging and making the sound of wind chimes. She smells like peonies and roses with a faint underscore of denture cream. He likes her instantly.

“Will you be there tonight?” Derek asks. She smiles bright with her crimson painted lips and nods. Harold, a little more reserved but no less flashy in his brown suit and gold chain, gives a little shrug.

“More than likely. We just can’t stay away. You take a bottle of wine and a blanket, you find yourself a little nook and you enjoy yourself. What more could you want in life?”

Derek nudges Aaron with his elbow. “What more could you want?”

Aaron can think of a few things, perhaps, but he smiles and offers agreement.

The sunset is glorious, and Derek really wants to head down to the beach right away but Aaron looks tired. He didn’t take a nap earlier and it’s catching up to him now. There’s a special little flicker of premonition that comes with knowing a person as well as Derek knows Aaron, and he can see the future: they’ll get to the beach, and Aaron will fall fast asleep if they lay down on the sand. The conditions will be too perfect. He’ll have to practically carry him back to the hotel, and there will be no sex.

That won’t do, so he compromises. “Let’s go take a little nap,” he says, pressing his nose to Aaron’s cheek. “We’ll head down to the beach when it’s almost dark.”

“Set an alarm.” That means he’ll sleep all night if they don’t. Derek heeds the warning and sets his alarm for one hour.

There isn’t anyone on the beach when they show up and make their way around to the little cove their new acquaintances told them about. During the daytime they imagine the place is flooded with people, flesh and kissing and as Harold put it with his wry little smile: “debauchery”. He’d told them about their first time, showing up just after lunch and feeling as though they’d joined an orgy. They enjoyed themselves fine but prefer the solitude of dusk. Derek thinks the daytime hours would be a kick and a half and plans to get around to a trip on his own down that way, but with Aaron he’ll stick to the dark.

“How about right here?” Derek asks, spreading the blanket up next to the cliff wall. They have a perfect view of the sea, the last bursts of sunlight barely cresting the horizon and fighting with the silvery shreds of moonlight filtering through blinking stars. They each have a bag full of provisions, snacks and drinks, flashlights and other beach necessities that they set down on each side of the blanket to pin it in place against the breeze skating in off the sea. Derek wastes no time at all stripping, his shorts are around his ankles immediately and he’s tearing at his shirt before he even steps out of them. Aaron is a little more timid, but he gets there. He’s looking around, over his shoulder, out at the sea for fishing boats, anyone whose eyes might be on him.

He hadn’t been cold before, but now his skin is flush with goosebumps and his nipples could cut diamonds. He folds his arms over his chest and bounces on the balls of his feet a little. Derek wraps his sun-soaked arms around Aaron and shares the warmth from his internal furnace.

“You’re a big baby.”

“I know.”

“Huge.”

“I’m aware, thank you.”

Aaron has always been self-conscious, his scars are huge and eye-catching. They look exactly like what they are: knife wounds. They don’t look like they could be anything else. He imagines how he’ll explain them without frightening people, and it inevitably ends up with him leaving his shirt on to save everyone the trouble. It makes people visibly uncomfortable. And his back? Well it’s a little easier to explain away through lies – bicycle wrecks, falling out of tree houses, the kind of stories that indicate an idyllic country childhood spent in the open air getting into all sorts of trouble. He doesn’t feel bad lying about those to strangers. They’re messy. But the scars on his front, there’s no good excuse for those. They’re severe and precise and there’s no palatable explanation for them.

But Derek’s chest is scarred too, a huge track of melted skin all the way down his sternum. Hotch looks at that and sees incredible strength and resilience, he sees triumph over his captors, he sees survival. What Derek accomplished in that cabin on his own makes Aaron swell with pride for him. Derek oozes confidence – the scar is a story that belongs to him, and when people ask he just says it was an on-the-job injury the same as the bullet scars, the same as anything else. And he says it so casually that no one really bothers to ask for more information, they just stare in awe at this miraculous man in front of them. But Aaron can’t seem to gather that same kind of confidence without his suit and tie. An on the job injury that involved nine stab wounds? What kind of thing is that? And all he really had to do to get out of it was stay awake. It’s hardly as impressive.

He doesn’t have much time to consider it because he feels a soft tickle at his ankle and looks down to find a cat. Scruffy and orange, the cat purrs loudly and slides against his shin one direction and then back. Glancing around, he realizes it isn’t the only one. They’re surrounded by curious cats. “I read about this,” Hotch says in awe. “They live in these caves.”

“Just a bunch of cave pussy, huh?”

Aaron gives Derek a disapproving look but cracks a smile anyway, he’s funny, he can’t help it. His crass humor has only gotten worse as he’s gotten older. In mixed company it makes Aaron blush.

“Let’s see where they live,” Aaron says. Derek jumps at a chance to explore a little of the area and honestly the idea of wandering through a cave completely naked is a little thrilling. Aaron digs around in his shoulder bag, past the bottle of wine and plastic cups and to-go container of bread and oil and cheese from dinner earlier until he finds his flashlight. They had headlamps too, but he didn’t think they needed to go that far into the cave. Not at night anyway. He’d heard that some of these caves connected directly to the sea on the other side, more like a tunnel, but he isn’t keen on going that deep tonight.

The follow the trail of cats back into a large cave not far from where they set up their little evening rendezvous. Aaron’s flashlight sends a flood of hazy yellow ahead of them and throws the walls and rock formations into striking shadow figures. “You smell that?” Derek asks. He was prepared for the smell of cats, this cave was probably a natural litter box but this smell...isn’t cat-made. He would know this smell anywhere.

It’s death. More to the point, it’s blood, the sickly metallic tang of fresh blood. It doesn’t immediately call their attention to danger, it could be anything. An animal the cats killed, they have to eat too and these cats are scavengers.

“I might not hear well but I can smell just fine,” Hotch replies, noting that the further in they go the worse the smell gets. He’s picturing another cat, maybe, or a mess of seagull and feathers. He’s anticipating a gory mess...but what they find is worse.

There is no mess. It’s a body, sure, and there is blood...but it’s not cat food. It’s a young man, younger than they are anyway. Probably in his thirties though it’s hard to tell in this light. He’s lying on his back with a stab wound in his chest, a crimson bloodflower spreading slowly over the white linen of his button down shirt. Aaron can’t even help it, he lets out a long, miserable sigh and looks at Derek in the sickly yellow glow of the flashlight. “Damn.”

Aaron instinctively crouches beside the body and reaches out to check for a pulse, knowing with certainty that he won’t find one. Still, if there is any possibility at all of life, he can’t stand and watch it fade without doing anything. There is no pulse, no breath, the skin is cooler than it should be. He hasn’t been dead long but he’s absolutely dead.

“So much for sex on the beach,” Derek mutters, and Aaron shakes his head. All thoughts of wine and picnics and making out in the ocean breeze are dashed from his mind. He hasn’t been with the BAU in years, and yet the change is almost instant. He goes from Aaron enjoying his vacation to Hotch working the case. Derek’s change is immediate as well. Just like putting on a new pair of clothes.

“Did you bring your phone?”

“It’s in my pants. Stay here with him.”

“I’m naked, Derek. Bring me my clothes or the blanket or something to cover up with. Please.”

“We’re both naked. It’s a nude beach, Aaron. If we’re down here in clothes don’t you think they’re going to immediately suspect us? Check out more of the area, see if you can find anything useful.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’m going to wander naked and barefoot alone in this cave. That sounds smart.” He’s biting back with sarcasm and he doesn’t like it. Derek doesn’t deserve that. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Where is SSA Hotchner?” Derek asks, returning the sarcasm in spades. Aaron groans.

“He’s old and retired, trying to avoid dead bodies and killers. He’s tired.”

Derek hums, content in the knowledge that he’s bullied Aaron into at least scoping out the site to see if he can find anything else. That’s a stab wound, he could tell, and the weapon wasn’t in the victim. He hurries back to the blanket, suddenly worried that he left Aaron in the cave unarmed and barefoot – what if he steps on the knife? What if the killer is still in there? He moves faster, rifles through the bag for another flashlight and finds his phone hanging halfway out of the back pocket in his shorts. He thinks about putting them on but remembers what he’d said and doesn’t. He does grab a towel from the bottom of the bag and decides he’ll offer it to Aaron. He’s not worried about being naked in front of the police but he knows Aaron battles with his insecurity and he’s not eager to make it worse. Not right now.

He calls the police and directs them to their location before going back into the cave and offering Aaron the towel to cover himself up. Aaron looks at him with so much love in his eyes, sparking embers in the shadowy cave and once again he mourns the ruined plans for their evening.

It doesn’t take long for police to show up with huge flood lights they set up at the mouth and string along the craggy roof of the cave. The whole place is lit up like daylight and Derek scoots until he’s shielded a little by Aaron and his towel. Maybe he should have grabbed one himself. He’s never been self-conscious but this harsh light makes him feel like he’s been put under a magnifying glass.

While they waited for the police to show up, Aaron managed to find few footprints that don’t belong to he or Derek, some blood on the wall, and a knife half buried in the sand about ten feet from the body. He had nearly stepped on it. Still, potential danger aside, he can’t believe it’s this easy.

The police, three of them, rush toward the body and push Aaron and Derek back while they examine it for themselves. One of them, the man in charge, speaks English.

“You found him? How long ago?”

“About ten minutes. We called right away.”

“What were you doing in the cave?”

“We followed some cats in. We were curious about where they lived and how many there were.” It sounds flimsy even as Derek says it, but it’s the truth. He doesn’t make his pussy joke.

“The body is still warm. The killer can’t be far away.”

“There’s a knife in the sand over there, and footprints leading further into the cave. I don’t know how far in they go.” Aaron stops himself before he goes into everything he’s already figured out about the body. He can’t help it, this is second nature. Derek asked him where SSA Hotchner was, and it turns out, he may be incredibly tired and rusty but he’s right here.

“I don’t think the killer meant to do this.”

Derek shoots him a funny look, eyebrows raised. He recognizes the tone of Aaron’s voice. He’s already got a profile. That fast. He’s naked, wrapped in a terrycloth towel, ready to deliver the damn profile to police officers who barely speak English in a cat filled cave. Aaron has taken control of the entire situation, and even though he’s a naked tourist they’re all listening to him. They’re all looking to him. Derek has to think about baseball statistics being rattled off by his grandmother in order to keep the resulting erection at bay. He uses the flashlight, turned off now because there’s plenty of light in the cave, to hide it. He’s barely successful.

The best part is that as he watches, he realizes that Aaron is standing taller. He’s not trying to hide his scars, his stories. He seems to realize that standing there the way he is, those scars tell a story that is riveting and the officers can’t look away. Maybe there is some power in them and what he’s survived, maybe they’re to his advantage after all. Maybe the way they make these officers uncomfortable is useful.

“What makes you say that?” the lead detective asks, tearing his eyes away from this scarred man in a towel to glance at the body again. Aaron feels bad for him, it’s pretty obvious they don’t deal with things like this here very often and they’re all visibly shaken. Probably petty theft and some vandalism, tourists behaving badly, that sort of thing. Not murder.

Aaron would rather be just about anywhere else in the whole world right now but he’s here, and he’s going to help them out the best he can. At least they seem, so far, to believe that he didn’t have anything to do with it. Either that or they think he’s about the stupidest man they’ve ever come across and eventually he’ll just give himself away. The thought almost makes him smile but he maintains his composure.

“This crime scene is messy. It looks like there was someone here, maybe two people, and my guess is that the victim surprised them while they were otherwise occupied. The victim doesn’t have any defensive wounds but he does have some hair caught between two of his fingers on his right hand and a smudge of what looks like lipstick on his arm.”

Bright red lipstick. Aaron’s stomach fills with a kind of dread that he used to thrive on. The kind that leads him right to the person who held the knife.

The police are all staring at him with their mouths open, incredulous. The detective who speaks English is translating to the other two quietly, at least he hopes he’s translating and not condemning him.

“I think his killer was older, probably a man. Most likely self-defense. The state of the scene makes me think that the person who killed this man was afraid and as soon as the knife went in, they ran away. They most likely didn’t stop to see if the man was dead before they ran. I would look for an older couple who seem rattled, or who check out of their hotel room abruptly and leave the island. They’re afraid of what they’ve done, but I think you’ll find this wasn’t premeditated. This man most likely threatened them in some way. I would expect that the knife probably belonged to him.”

“How do you know all of this if you are not the killer?” the officer asks. Aaron and Derek both expected that question a lot sooner. Aaron had been thinking about telling the police to check the man’s pockets where they would likely find jewelry or something from the woman, perhaps the man. A gold bangle bracelet or a chain. But they’re starting to suspect Aaron knows too much so he keeps that to himself. They’ll find that on their own.

“I’m a retired FBI Agent.”

“We both are,” Derek chimes in, ready to stop being just a naked bump on a log. He’d been enjoying Aaron somehow running the show but he wants in on the action now. He’s kind of an adrenaline junkie. “We worked with the Behavioral Analysis Unit hunting serial killers all over America.”

The police stare at them for a moment and start laughing. “You retired and came here on vacation to relax only you cannot get away, the killers follow you,” the officer says. “It’s amusing, no?”

“Is it?” Derek asks with a laugh. He gives the officers all of their information, including the number to Emily’s desk at the FBI to check their references. Their alibi for the estimated time of death was flimsy, they’d been napping in their room until they came to the beach. No one could vouch for their whereabouts, but they were complying and it didn’t seem like the police suspected them.

Back at their hotel, they ready themselves for bed. Washing up, brushing their teeth, going through the motions. Aaron takes his mess of evening pills and Derek checks that their doors are all secure. When they meet up in the bed, they both lay silent side by side, exhausted yet wide awake. They’re both buzzing with the excitement of a case they don’t get to work and the only way to alleviate that kind of charge is by getting physical. That part is easy. The bed sheets are peeled back and in they slide, ready to settle the score. “Back there,” Derek says between hot breathy kisses. “You were so damn hot I could barely handle it.”

“Yeah?” Aaron asks, a little coy, smiling into the next kiss. “How close did you come?”

“My grandma had to tell me all about Hank Aaron’s stats…” Derek whispers desperately, rocking his hips against Aaron’s thigh. He’s thinking about the cave again, about the way Aaron became Hotch, about the power in the way he stood. About the way he squared his shoulders and didn’t shield his scars from sight but claimed them, claimed his survival, claimed a showdown with a prolific serial killer. Aaron smiles and knows exactly what to do.

“Hank Aaron had 3771 hits in his career,” Aaron whispers hot and slow against the pulse in Derek’s throat. He moves lower, dusting kisses along his collarbone, along the ridges of his scar. “755 home runs…”

Derek moans as Aaron glides down his abs and finds his destination, and with one hand Derek pushes Aaron’s head so he’ll stop ruining the stat trick, so he has something else to do with his mouth. Even that’s turning him on now.

The phone rings as they lay panting in bed, spent and happy, ready for another shower and a dip in the pool. Muscles twitching, chests heaving, neither of them any closer to being ready for sleep. Derek answers, hums a few times, nods and thanks whoever is on the line. Aaron has a guess.

“That was the police, they caught the killers.”

“Harold and Catherine?” Aaron asks and Derek nods, feeling that same pool of warmth spread again in his groin.

“They were in the cave to feed the cats and probably to get busy. You remember all their bling. Catherine and all that gold, I’m not surprised. He grabbed her by the hair and Harold knocked the knife out of his hand and stabbed him. They ran through the cave to the main beach, the police caught them by Catherine’s engraved necklace under the guy half buried in the sand. He ripped it off her neck. Doesn’t sound like the police are gonna do much to them, this guy had a record and is wanted in Athens for the rape and murder of a tourist a few years back. Sounds like a piece of shit that got what was coming to him.”

Aaron smiles and nods before yawning. “Shower?” And just like that he’s turned it off. Case closed. Hotch is back in retirement and Aaron just wants to shower and take a dip in the pool with his husband. He wants to resume vacation mode. They get into the shower and wash the case off of them with ease, soap suds and slick skin and smiles. It doesn’t take them long before they’re dancing slowly in the shower, just small sways and circles, Derek’s hand settled at the curved small of Aaron’s back, Aaron draped over Derek’s shoulder.

“Let’s have a snack” Derek says, always thinking about food. Aaron nods. “I have something I want to run by you...”

“I have a guess,” Aaron replies with a smile, turning his face toward Derek’s and kissing him. He’s been waiting for Derek to bring it up. “You want to extend the vacation. You’re not ready to go home to the empty house either.”

“We’re already all the way over here...what if we just pop over to Italy and spend some time there?”

“Just pop over to Italy huh?” Aaron smiles dreamily and rests his cheek against the mound of Derek’s shoulder, swaying again beneath the shower. The water is lukewarm and feels heavenly against their sandy sticky skin. He’s content to stay here for a bit longer dreaming of more travel. They don’t have kids who will be home for another month, they’ve got plenty of time and resources. There’s no good reason not to. “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s go to Italy. Why not?”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds #hotch x morgan #aaron hotchner x derek morgan

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

Birds of a Feather (Chapter 3/?) ||| Bradley Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Sam “Merlin” Wells’ Daughter OC

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Death of Parent(s), Non-Explicit Sexual References, and even more awkwardness as young adults try and fail to rationalize their feelings.

Summary: … If she was going to do this crazy of a thing with anybody, Bradley Bradshaw was certainly at the top of her list. Hell, he was the only one on the list. She trusted him full-heartedly.

Word Count: 9200 ish.

DISCLAIMER: Spoilers for Top Gun and Top Gun: Maverick ahead.

Masterlist /// Chapter 1 /// Chapter 2 /// Chapter 3 /// Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support you’ve shown for this story! It really makes me feel good (for a lack of better words) that something I’ve put a fair amount of work into has been received so well. As usual, any and all feedback is still welcomed and appreciated! This and the next chapters are going to be decently lengthy, but I felt like splitting them into three chapters would have jarred the pacing. Hopefully you all understand.

I hope you all have a good holiday, if you celebrate. (Personally, I’m going to be wearing black tomorrow, but that’s neither here nor there.👀) Either way, I hope you have a good and safe next couple of days.😊💙

Chapter 3: Out of the System

Lemoore, CA

5 years ago

…

Corpus Christi, and then Kingsville, to Lemoore would be a nice change of pace. Even if it was exchanging one hot environment for another. Either way, both had to be better than the humidity had been in Pensacola.

But, and perhaps more importantly, the move would create more socially acceptable opportunities to don the ever growing collection of Hawaiian shirts in Bradley’s possession.

Which is why, on the Saturday before his FRS training was set to commence, just after Bradley had up and left his temporary life in Texas for sunny California, he donned one of the said shirts. And, he’d chosen one of his particularly more “obnoxious” - as his fellow aviator and friend Natasha Trace had so lovingly put it- shirts for the hell of it.

Natasha made a deal of not wanting to be seen with him when he wore the shirt, but Bradley could tell she didn’t really hold any hard feelings for the brightly colored fabric. However, she did still roll her eyes at him exasperatedly as they entered the bar.

They’d been informed that the bar was the bar of preference for most everyone on base. In theory, it would be a good place to introduce themselves to others in a more casual setting before training formally began the following Monday. But as it turned out, the bar was a pretty nice place anyway. It was somewhat tucked away, hidden in plain sight among the small suburb of military housing nearby. Plus, the owner, a veteran named Jimmy, was more than a pleasant enough guy.

After a few beers, Natasha and Bradley had made some small talk with others they recognized from earlier stages of their training. Natasha had even ran into an old friend from her days in the Academy, Reuben Fitch.

As Natasha and Reuben caught up, Bradley nursed another beer and he leaned up against the bar. His eyes scanned around the room, looking for no one in particular, but rather getting a general feel of the room. He spotted a piano on the other side of the bar, and made a mental note of it for future reference.

Then, Bradley heard a laugh that made him double take. His eyes continued to scan the bar, though with a bit more urgency, as his curiosity got the best of him and he sought to confirm his initial reactive thought.

There she was. She was seated at a table across the bar, chatting with two guys and another woman who were also seated at the same table.

Clara Wells.

Throughout the most recent stages of their training, Bradley and Clara had kept in touch mainly by text, but also with the occasional phone call. Bradley had spoken to Clara enough to already know she’d be in California. After she had completed her training six months back, she’d been given orders to report to NAS Lemoore, where she'd been lucky enough to be assigned to be an NFO on her first preference- the F/A 18.

But Bradley and Clara hadn’t actually seen each other in person in nearly two years, and he definitely hadn’t expected to see her there at the bar that night. He would have thought- or, rather, hoped- that he would have had at least one or two days to come up with the just right words to say to her.

Though phone calls and texts over the months had been enough to preserve their friendship on the surface level, the thought of speaking to one another face to face had become somewhat of a daunting task. There’d been an unspoken mutual agreement to simply not address what had happened the night before Bradley left Pensacola.

Bradley knew he ought to have brought it up, but everytime he tried to work up the courage to do so, the fears of what could happen as a result of the conversation always outweighed his desire for clarity on where exactly they stood. Would things get weird between them? Would they get into an argument? Would they simply bring up the topic once, and drop it, never to be spoken of again? Bradley couldn’t be sure. Their lighthearted conversations already seemed fragile due to the distance between them straining the relationship. And Bradley wasn’t exactly leaping at the chance to add any further burden to what was supposed to have been a mutually beneficial friendship.

Not to mention, it had been too easy to simply pretend the kiss had not even happened at all when there had been a barrier of a phone between them for safety. But now, that barrier was gone.

And to make things worse, their chats had been spotty as of late, with Bradley having been primarily focused on completing his initial training and finally earning his Wings. He’d at least told Clara that he’d been given his first preference of what to fly- which was also the F/A 18. But he hadn’t told her whether was headed to Lemoore or Virginia Beach after the completion of his training. … Then again, Clara hadn’t explicitly asked, either.

Regardless, it all meant that Bradley had absolutely no idea what to say to Clara. It was an off-putting feeling, unsure of what to say to a friend of literal years, when he was - supposedly - full grown ass-adult who should have been more than capable of having a difficult conversation. But it was the awkward position he found himself in anyway. And until he could figure out what needed to be said, Bradley was of the mind that perhaps laying low and sticking to his own business would be his best course of action.

Besides… Clara looked more than comfortable chatting with her friends across the bar. The last thing Bradley wanted to do was to interrupt them and force an awkward conversation that he wasn’t even prepared for.

Even though he still cared about her.

God, did he still care about her.

He cared about her too much, really. More than he ought to have.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was in the midst of wrestling with his thoughts, Clara had already spotted him with Natasha and Reuben.

“Hey Jimmy, the damn jukebox’s broken again!”

In response, the bartender grumbled something about leaving the machine be.

“Bradshaw, is that a piano I see over there?” Natasha asked pointedly.

Bradley took another drink in lieu of answering her redundant question.

“Why don’t ya play us a little something?” Reuben asked, immediately catching on to Natasha’s subtle suggestion.

“Nah, I couldn’t,” Bradley replied, hoping Natasha would take the hint and just drop it. Making a scene in the bar by providing such entertainment, though it wouldn’t have been the first time, was one of the last things on Bradley’s mind at the moment given who was present on the opposite side of the room.

Unfortunately, Natasha mistook his hesitancy for shyness. “Don’t let him fool you,” she said to Reuben with a smile. “This guy right here knows his way around the keys.” She clapped a hand on Bradley’s shoulder encouragingly “Come on.”

Reluctantly, though as to not make any further of a scene, Bradley allowed her to guide him over to the piano. As soon as he was seated on the bench, a fair share of the eyes of the other bar patrons fell upon him, watching with mild interest. He refused to look at any of them in particular, apprehensive as to whose eyes he might actually meet.

Instead, he chose to focus on Natasha, who was beside him, smiling reassuringly. “Too late to chicken out now, Bradshaw. You’ve got an audience.”

Oh, didn’t he know it. He gave Natasha a small smile as he forced himself to play the opening chords to a song he knew how to play so well it was nearly the equivalent of riding a bike. As the first few notes sounded, and against his better judgment, Bradley dared to look over the top of the upright piano and out across the room.

Immediately, he locked eyes with Clara. She was too far away for him to properly discern the expression on her face, but he had no doubt that she saw him.

There’d be no flying under the radar now.

The first day of training had gone by somewhat unceremoniously. The replacement pilots and replacement WSOs were given the introductory speeches from the instructors and their CO. The more hands-on learning and training was set to begin the next day.

Most of the incomers seemed alright, Clara deduced, from her non-expert but several months’ experience of an opinion. There seemed to be a small number of them who would need to be taken down a peg, as one may have suspected, but that number was relatively small. To be fair, there were also some others who had joined the VFA-122 at the same time as her that could still stand to be humbled, even with six months of exposure under their belts.

Clara made it the entire day without having to speak to Bradley Bradshaw even once. And for that, she was thankful.

But that all changed as she entered the parking lot in her effort to go home.

“Clara!”

Clara didn’t want to hesitate, but she involuntarily did so as a gut-reaction upon the use of her name. Once she processed whose voice it was, she forced herself to continue on. Her car was just a few rows away, and with any luck, she’d reach it shortly before the person on her tail had a chance to catch up.

But it appeared luck wasn’t on her side that day, because a moment later, Bradley suddenly appeared by her side.

“Clara, come on,” he pleaded, audibly disheartened though he had no physical problem keeping up with her long strides and rushed pace. Though Clara was taken unpleasantly by surprise, at least Bradley spoke relatively quietly; the entire group had just been dismissed for the day, and they certainly weren’t alone in the parking lot.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Clara said casually, sparing him the briefest of glances out of the corner of her eye. In all fairness, she hadn’t asked where Bradley had been assigned to after his training, but part of her had hoped he would’ve shared the information with her anyway.

“I know, I should’ve told you,” Bradley admitted, sounding so apologetic and sincere Clara almost stopped walking then and there. Almost. “I think we need to talk.”

“What about?” Clara asked, feigning ignorance all too easy in her frustration.

“You know what about.”

Clara finally stopped in her tracks, and opened her mouth to retort, but shut it when was made ever more aware of the fact that others were in the area and could possibly overhear their conversation. She had no intention of making whatever they were about to discuss public; they were both professionals with budding careers. The last thing either of them needed was to be seen having a public spat, especially when as far as anyone else knew, they two had just met each other.

“I can count the number of times I’ve heard from you over the past month on one hand,” Clara said, fighting to keep her voice level and even. “Do you suddenly have something to say?”

Regret and remorse was very evident on Bradley’s face. He did his best to hide his pained expression, but Clara was able to see through the front easily. “Yeah, I do,” he informed her. “Please, Clara. Give me a chance to explain?”

“... Okay.” Clara offered up a tight-lipped smile to someone who passed by them and shot them a curious look. “But can we talk somewhere more private?”

Bradley gave her a relieved smile and tapped the hood of his Bronco, which Clara hadn’t even realized was parked where they had come to a stop. “My apartment?”

“Fine.”

…

Bradley’s apartment was not too far from base. It was nothing too expansive, not that it was needed for just himself, but it was still nice. He was fortunate to live alone, which soothed Clara’s nerves about their impending conversation just a little.

When they first entered the room, he offered her a drink. She declined, but accepted a glass of water instead.

For a few minutes, the two sat on the couch in his living room in silence, each drinking their respective drinks and waiting to see who would cave and begin speaking first. Though the silence normally would have tormented her, she didn’t mind it this time. It allowed her to contemplate.

Perhaps she had maybe been a little too aggressive with Bradley in the parking lot, especially since it was the first time she was having a face-to-face conversation with him in almost two years. But she still needed answers for his odd behavior, even if she feared she wouldn’t like what he had to say.

“Look,” Clara began, looking away from him in the hope that doing so would give her some additional courage. She set down the glass of water on the nearby side table as she continued to search for the right words. “I’m just going to rip the bandaid off- I know I crossed a line when I kissed you that night. I don’t know what got into me… other than the alcohol, I guess. But there’s something I don’t understand about that night. If I crossed the line, why on earth did you kiss me back?”

Bradley remained silent for a beat, though Clara was well-aware of the fact that his eyes were on her, watching her intensely. When she finally dared to meet his eyes once again, she saw him purse his lips. His brows were furrowed, his eyes focused. He was obviously deep in thought. Or deliberation.

“It just… It felt right, I guess.”

… Felt right?

“What am I supposed to do with that information, Brad?” Clara asked quietly, feeling oddly helpless and more confused than she had ever been over the past month when he subtly but abruptly shut her out.

“I don’t know.”

Clara wanted to be able to make sense of whatever he was trying to convey, but it almost sounded like Bradley wasn’t even sure what he meant. It was a lost cause. “I completely understand if pursuing this- pursuing us- isn’t what you want right now… To be honest, I’m not even sure what I want anymore. All I do know is that I’ve missed you. A lot. And if I had known that kissing you was just going to make things weird between us and wreck what we had, I never would’ve done it in the first place.”

“I missed you too,” Bradley confessed. His tone was softer than before, it sounded a bit more wounded. Almost as though he’d been insulted that she’d even insinuated that he didn’t feel the same. “And I don’t think what we have is wrecked.”

“Then why haven’t I heard from you recently? … I know you’ve been busy. Believe me, I know. I’ve gone through training; I’ve been there. … But I would’ve at least thought you’d tell me you were coming here.”

Bradley sighed tiredly. “Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Bradley said, setting his drink down on the side table. “... I was afraid of having this exact conversation.”

Clara’s eyes widened in surprise; that wasn’t what she had been expecting.

“Once I found out I was coming here, I realized it would only be a matter of time until we had this conversation,” Bradley continued, looking away from her for the first time since their conversation began. “Since we didn’t really talk about what happened that night, I didn’t know how you felt about things between us… and I guess I was just worried we weren’t on the same page.”

In all honesty, Clara still wasn’t entirely sure what page Bradley was on. But, by the sound of it, she felt confident enough that she at least had the gist. It seemed that both of them wanted to keep the friendship, and neither were ready to pursue the avenue that the kiss had opened up for them. That damn kiss. If she hadn’t caved into her feelings in the moment, they wouldn’t have even had to have this conversation!

… Wait.

“How about we just forget anything ever happened?” she proposed. “We don’t think about it, or even bring it up again. We can go back to the way things were before that night.”

Bradley met her eyes once again. The somber look in his eyes was gone, replaced with interest, and, if she squinted, maybe even a dash of humor. “Just… forget it even happened?”

“Yes.”

“You really think it’ll work?”

“We’ll have to hold each other accountable to see to it that it does. But right now, it’s the only thing I can think of. I’m not ready to throw this friendship away.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then… it’s a deal?”

“... Deal.”

“Deal,” Clara agreed, nodding to herself as she began to process what all that would entail. “And if it doesn’t work, I guess we’ll have to find some other way to make the next six months bearable.”

In six months, Clara would receive her squadron assignment, and be headed off for who knew where, while it would be Bradley’s turn to be the one ‘left behind’ to finish the duration of his own training.

“Let’s start now,” Bradley proposed. “Friday night- let’s go back to that bar, just like we used to in Florida. I’ll even buy.”

“You don’t have to do that-”

“-But I want to. Consider it a consolation for dropping off the face of the earth for the past month. Are you in, or not?”

As much as she wanted to demonstrate some reluctance to his offer, Clara knew she was a sucker for the hopeful look on Bradley’s face. Damn him. “... Fine. I’m in.” Then, the memory struck her. “That was quite the performance you gave the other night, by the way.”

Bradley smirked. “I just knew you were gonna say something about that.”

“How could I not? You basically gave the whole bar a free concert! Who knew that one song could have so much sway?”

“It is a good song,” Bradley reasoned thoughtfully. “Though, it was kinda lonely up there, all by lonesome. I’m used to at least having a singing partner, you know?”

Clara knew exactly what he was referring to. She’d witnessed Bradley give similar performances at their old haunts in Pensacola. She’d been right beside him then, and had even sung along a handful of times. But perhaps it was too soon to stroke Bradley’s ego and indulge him.

“You seemed just fine,” Clara noted, though politely. “Who was that you were with?”

“Her name’s Natasha,” Bradley replied. “She came from Kingsville with me. I’ll introduce you two sometime. I think you two will get along.”

“... Is she-”

“Just a friend,” Bradley confirmed. Clara wanted to kick herself when he seemed to take too much satisfaction in her poorly-disguised interest in the matter.

“I was just asking,” Clara added quickly, hoping to throw him off her tracks.

“Mhmm.”

“Well, I should get going now,” Clara said as she rose up off the couch, desperately wanting to avoid digging herself into any deeper of a hole. Besides, the events of the day had made her brain feel all but fried, and she could practically hear her bed calling her name from miles away.

Bradley rose from the couch as well, following her as she walked over to the front door. “I’ll see you around, Red Cross.”

Clara almost did a double take at the nickname she hadn’t heard in a few years. Despite herself, she smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Brad.” She swore she saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at that… but maybe she had just imagined it. “Are you going to wear another one of those shirts on Friday?”

This time, Bradley gave her a clear smile. “Oh, you can count on it, Darling.”

“I still have the one you left behind, by the way.”

“Ah, so you didn’t burn it?”

“Ha ha,” Clara said sarcastically. “Do you want it back? I can run it over here later tonight if you want.”

Bradley shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered. “Keep it for now. You never know when I may be in need of a shirt.”

Clara laughed.

It wasn’t until she got back to her own apartment that she realized the possible deeper implications of Bradley’s off-handed joke.

“Ugh.”

“He is pretty insufferable, isn’t he?”

Bradley had offered to drive Clara back to his apartment after training the following Friday. Since they had plans to go out later that evening, it had only made sense and prevented any unnecessary driving back and forth.

On the way back to his apartment, their conversation had naturally drifted to one Jake Seresin- an incoming replacement pilot whose obnoxious ego and charm rivaled each other for dominance over his personality. He’d come from Meridian, so both of them had only known him for less than a week. However, they were both of the opinion that that short time was plenty enough for them to deduce just what he was about.

“I’m sure he’ll get knocked down a peg or two,” Clara said. “I’ve seen it first hand- it ain’t pretty.”

Bradley shrugged, his eyes still focused on the road. Though he liked the idea of that, and probably more than he should have, he had his doubts about whether anything would ever actually boot Jake Seresin off his high horse. “I don’t know- some of those Academy guys never seem to grow out of their egos.”

“Yeah?” Clara chucked. “Well, you were almost one of them yourself, remember? Are you admitting that you’d have a free pass to act like a jerk too?”

Bradley knew Clara only meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh or otherwise react to her question.

Unfortunately, Clara took his silence and jumped to a conclusion of her own. “... You’re not still mad about not getting into the Academy, are you?”

“No.”

“-Because I’ve already told you, I couldn’t even get a nomination. You, on the other hand, got the chance to actually apply. You had more of a chance than I ever did.”

“I’m not still mad about not getting into the Academy,” Bradley insisted truthfully. “That was years ago, for God’s sake.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Bradley sighed, and readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, or at least minded his mouth when talking about Seresin and all the other Academy grads who thought they were still way up high on their pedestals. But he hadn’t, and in the spirit of keeping their rekindled friendship alive, he felt obligated to let Clara in fully on something he’d been keeping a secret for over a year.

“I’m not mad about not getting into the Academy,” he repeated. “... I may still be a bit upset with the reason as to why I didn’t get in.”

“How would you even know that?” Clara wondered. She laughed, “What did you do, go up to the Admissions Board and ask them why?”

Bradley chuckled dryly. “No… One of my instructors back in Kingsville was actually on the Board during the year I applied,” he informed her. “I just wanted some closure, you know? I thought if I knew what it was that held me back then, I could be more aware of it now, in case it ever plays a role down the road… So, after I got in his good graces, of course, I just asked him about it directly.”

“... And did he tell you?”

“Not at first; he didn’t want to,” Bradley recalled. “Hell, he definitely probably shouldn’t have told me at all. But I took him out for drinks one night, and you know what they say about loose lips. He told me all I needed to know.”

Bradley could feel Clara’s eyes on him. He knew why; talking about a fair share of stuff in his past was either hit or miss on whether it’d garner a strong emotional reaction from him. She was probably preparing herself for the worst.

“What did he say?” she inquired.

Bradley spared her a glance, confirming what he already knew; Clara was watching him carefully. “He told me my papers got pulled.”

“What?” Clara did a double take. “... That can actually happen?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you obviously didn’t have anything to do with it… So who pulled them?”

Bradley hesitated.

“Did he not tell you who it was?”

“No, he did.”

“Who was it?”

“Maverick.”

The silence that followed was an extremely weighted one. Bradley remained silent, not sure of what else to say in the moment, and wanting to allow Clara time to digest the bombshell information he’d just shared.

“Maverick?” Clara repeated, slowly and blankly. “Maverick Maverick? As in-”

“-Yes.”

Bradley saw Clara finally look away from him out of the corner of his eye. Instead, she stared straight out the front windshield, mimicking his own firm stance. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled. “... Why would he do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But my instructor was very clear as to who was behind my application getting pulled.”

“I can’t believe it,” Clara admitted wistfully. Quickly, she clarified, “I mean, I believe what you’re saying, I do… But Maverick? God, my dad still talks about that guy like he hung the damn moon!”

Bradley scoffed. “I know. Your dad tried asking me about him once, but if I remember right, you saved me from having to answer him.”

When Mr. Wells had asked about him several years back, Bradley hadn’t known the truth of what Maverick had done with his application to the Academy. But at the time, Bradley still hadn’t been too pleased with his later father’s best friend. He’d been way, way too eager to brush over Bradley’s supposed “rejection” from the Academy. ‘Well, that’s some tough luck, Kid… But you know how competitive it is to get into the Academy. Hell, I didn’t even get the chance to apply… And you know how worried your mother was about you. Maybe she can rest easier now.’

Just recalling the lame excuses that, in hindsight, Bradley should have taken as obvious clues got his blood boiling. But Maverick was not there anymore, and as much contempt as he held for him, Bradley would be damned if he’d let the old man impact his life and attitude anymore than he already had.

“The image I had of Maverick was already tainted by then,” Bradley confessed, referring back to the day in question. “... But I still couldn’t bring myself to ruin him in the eyes of your father, too.”

Clara said nothing, but he could tell she was still highly focused on the conversation.

“That’s why Seresin and the other Academy guys like him get to me so much. They walk around like their God’s personal gifts to the Navy, and hell, maybe they are. But they don’t acknowledge the advantage that they had. Four years of connections like that? … I would’ve done just about anything for that opportunity.”

“I’m really, really sorry, Bradley,” Clara apologized, sincerely dripping off of every solemn word. “What Maverick did- that wasn’t right. It shouldn’t have happened, and you more than deserved a fair chance. Does he know that you know? Have you confronted him about it?”

Bradley shook his head, his fingers gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter as he slowed the car down for an upcoming red light. “No. I haven’t even talked to him in years.” Which was perfectly fine with him. “When I didn’t get into the academy, he tried to convince me that it was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t get why he was so adamant about it at the time, but now I know. And I try not to think about it, but, as you can tell, it still bothers me years later, so…”

Clara was silent once again.

“But I suppose there is a silver lining in all of it,” Bradley realized out loud for the first time.

“What’s that?”

The car came to a complete stop at the red light, and Bradley looked over at her with a small smile. “If things hadn’t gone the way they had for me, I wouldn’t have met you when I did.”

He turned his eyes back onto the road, but he swore he saw her smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Aw, Bradshaw, you’re going to make me tear up,” Clara said quietly after a moment, attempting to downplay the sentimentality of his statement. “Are you saying you don’t regret willfully letting me annoy you for going on seven years?”

“Surprisingly- no. I’m glad I met you when I did,” Bradley agreed with a smile. His focus was back on the road, where it would remain as he forced himself to finish the rest of his thoughts. “That’s when I needed someone like you the most.”

The smile she gave him in return made him feel some type of way. And it made him realize very quickly that keeping up his end of the deal and forgetting the kiss they’d shared was going to be a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Lemoore, CA

4.5 years ago

…

Due to it being a Saturday night, the bar was relatively crowded, as was the usual. In hindsight, they probably should have ventured to a place further away from base, but since Bradley had offered to pay, Clara had been in no position to argue.

“We playing the ‘game’ tonight?” Bradley asked her as he handed her a drink. He took a seat at the table they’d secured in one of the back corners of the bar. It was tucked away, and just about as private of a place they’d get in such a bustling environment.

The ‘game’ was a method they’d cooked up a few months prior, shortly after Bradley’s arrival on base. As it turned out, Bradley and Clara pretending to be involved with one another while out at bars had proven to be a relatively effective way to deter any flirtatious hopefuls when one of them wasn’t quite in the mood to be swooned. It confused the hell out of their peer aviators and WSOs who recognized them and saw their little bit, and it confused them even more so when the pair would repeatedly and vehemently deny anything had occurred between them when confronted about it afterwards. But that was a large part of the fun.

But, as it also turned out, Clara enjoyed partaking in the charade a little bit more than liked to admit. And she particularly didn’t care for the uncomfortable feeling she got whenever Bradley assured her that their arrangement was not necessary for an evening, and he would buy some other girl a drink and chat her up for an hour or so. If they had gone out together, he never ditched her for any of them, but there was no telling what he got up to when the two parted ways when leaving the bar.

Clara hated it all, actually. She hated how possessive it made her feel. Bradley could date, or not date, anyone he damn well pleased. She was his friend, nothing more. That was their agreement, and she knew that if she wanted to keep him a part of her life, she better stick to it.

Even if that meant ignoring how she actually had come to feel about him.

“I’m down,” Clara confirmed. “Unless you don’t want to...?”

Bradley put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Now, what kind of friend would I be if I ran off with some other girl on your last night here?”

Ah, there it was. Not even ten minutes into their little trip to the bar, and the elephant in the room had been addressed. Six months had passed by too quickly, and Clara would be leaving in the morning.

She’d been officially assigned to VFA-103. While finally getting assigned to a squadron was exciting, she couldn’t deny the fact that the past six months spent with her old friend had made the prospect of leaving less than favorable. With any luck, Bradley would get assigned to a squadron also stationed in Virginia Beach- or even better, a squadron assigned to the same carrier- so that they would at least see each other in some passing state, but that was pretty wishful thinking.

“Well, maybe it would make you a shitty friend,” Clara said, “But hardly anyone could blame you. See that blonde over by the bar? She’s been eyeing you since the moment we walked in.”

She directed her gaze over to the girl in reference pointedly. Bradley followed the gesture, and smirked as his eyes landed upon her.

“Nice,” he commented smugly.

Clara rolled her eyes and took a big drink from her glass.

“Damn…” Bradley whistled suddenly. “Do you feel those daggers she’s shooting at you?”

“What? No she’s not-”

Bradley put a hand on her arm as she went to turn, effectively stopping from looking back to see if he had been telling the truth. “Don’t look! She’ll know we were talking about her.”

“You were talking about her.”

Bradley paid her no mind as he rose, beer still in hand, and scooted his stool closer to hers. He sat back down, his back now to the woman at the bar, and gave her a grin.

“Well… What’s she going to think now?” Clara asked, unsure of what else to say as she processed their suddenly close proximity.

Bradley shrugged. “She’s probably thinking that we’re having an intimate conversation. So, unless you want to blow our cover, you better commit and pretend that you actually like me.”

Clara did her best to glare at him, but she didn’t have to see her own reflection to know that she wasn’t doing a very convincing job. For all her effort to do her best to forget about her feelings about him, Bradley’s mixed signals- whether he knew what he was doing or not- certainly didn’t help the matter.

“Bradshaw, do you really think I would have tolerated these little antics of yours for this many years if I didn’t like you?”

Judging by the content look on his face, that was exactly along the lines of what Bradley had been fishing for. “So, just how much do you like me?”

Clara laughed and took another drink in an effort to mask her involuntary blush. “Where the hell are you going with this?”

“Do you like me enough to do me a favor?” he asked plainly.

Bradley’s tone was serious, a stark comparison to the joking banter he’d fired off just a few seconds beforehand. Given their closeness, Clara had a pretty good view of his face. Though she had been avoiding meeting his eyes for too long throughout the night so far, she dared to after hearing his question, searching for any signs that he might have been anything less than genuine. She found none. His brown eyes, while still having a bit of light to them, looked suddenly somber.

“Yes.”

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?”

He sounded so sincere, she didn’t have the heart to do anything other than take his request as seriously as he posed it. Despite the vagueness, she knew exactly what he meant.

The whole process of training up until that moment hadn’t exactly been a cake walk; it certainly had had its dangerous moments. But being assigned to an actual squadron, where being deployed was inevitable, was another thing entirely. They both knew the risks of the careers they had chosen, and they accepted that it possibly would come at a heavy personal cost.

But that personal cost didn’t always mean sacrificing one’s own life; it also meant the possibility of losing someone else instead. And Clara knew Bradley understood the weight of that concept greatly.

“Of course I will,” Clara assured him, placing a light hand over his own as it laid flat upon the table. “I always do, you know that.”

“I know you do. But it’s not always in your control.”

It wasn’t, but that was something she had come to accept. Unsure of what else to say, she withdrew her hand slowly, and took another drink.

“Can I ask you something serious?” Bradley asked after a few moments.

“Serious?” Clara asked with a soft smile. “That’s a new one for you, isn’t it?”

“I know- but I mean it this time,” Bradley said, before finishing off the rest of his beer.

“What is it?”

Bradley scooted the empty bottle away from him as he leaned onto the table. He looked over at her, attentive eyes watching her every move. The way he was acting was more hesitant than what was usual for him, and it made her all the more intrigued.

“Why did you go through all of this training to not even try to be a pilot?”

Clara pushed her own now empty glass away from her on the table as she met his eyes once again. The look in his eyes was just as serious as it had been a few minutes before. It was definitely not the direction she had expected the evening to go, nor the question she would have guessed he would have asked of her. But she was more than willing to see where it would lead.

“It’s kind of late in the process to be asking me that question, isn’t it?”

Bradley shrugged. Though his reaction was nonchalant, Clara could tell he still expected an answer.

“You mean, besides my eyesight?” she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood between them. It wasn’t successful, the tension created by his question clung steadfast in the air between them. So, she racked her brain for the most honest, thoughtful, and easiest-to-convey answer she could produce. “... I guess I like being able to control what I can control. If I’m a WSO, I’ve got my role. I know what I’m supposed to do, and I can focus on making sure I do it the best I can. But if I had to actually fly the plane as well? … Seems like a lot.”

“You could’ve done it.”

“Maybe; maybe not. But, at the end of the day, I just never felt that drawn to it. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a pilot whose always known they’ve wanted to do what they do than a pilot who does what they do because they felt like they had to. Whoever I end up flying with can have whatever glory they want. I know I’m going to do the best job I can, and I know they’ll be able to handle the rest.”

Bradley visibly mused over her words thoughtfully for a few moments. “That’s a lot of trust to place in someone.”

His words made something click in Clara’s mind. Backseaters, specifically WSOs, or, back in the day, RIOs, had to place a lot of trust in the pilots they flew with.

Clara hadn’t ever really given too much thought as to why Bradley hadn’t opted to be an NFO in some capacity rather than a pilot. If he had chosen the other route, it certainly would have been a lot more comparable to his father’s career. But then, it hit her- it was about the control. Just like control had been the motivator for her own career path, it seemed highly likely that the concept of control was what had sparked Bradley’s decision as well. Though the recent grumblings throughout the squadron was that he was likely to transition to a single seater soon, Clara had little doubt that if Bradley would be assigned to fly with a WSO, their safety would be one of his top priorities.

It was hardly a surprise that Bradley was concerned about her, beyond what she would have expected of him by being his friend. He knew very well of a circumstance where a RIO’s trust in their pilot simply hadn’t been enough.

“It is a lot of trust,” Clara said, finally acknowledging his point. “But that’s the easiest way for me to rationalize it.” Another beat of silence passed between them, before she thought of something to lighten the mood. “Besides, someone’s gotta be the voice of reason for the thick-skulled pilots like you.”

Despite the intensity of the conversation, Bradley smirked at her joke.

“And you’re thinking of a worst case scenario,” Clara continued. “I could end up with someone perfectly safe and competent- someone like you. Or Natasha, even.”

Natasha Trace, a friend of Bradley’s from Kingsville, had also become a friend of Clara’s over the past six months. She admired the other young woman’s ability to hold her own. She’d witnessed more than one time where Natasha had put Jake Seresin in his place, and with each time, Clara gained more respect for her. Though Natasha took her job very seriously, she had no problem kicking back a bit outside of work, and was often a third party to their weekend happenings. In general, she was nice to be around, and in all honesty, Clara felt better about leaving knowing that Natasha and Bradley had each other’s backs.

“Maybe,” Bradley conceded, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Or you could end up with someone like Seresin.”

“God, I hope not... But why are you asking all of this?” Clara wondered then.

For the first time in a few minutes, cracks showed in Bradley’s serious front, and he gave her a soft smile. “Oh, you know- I just felt like we were long overdue for a deep discussion.”

“Oh, really? Got anything else on your mind while you’re at it?” Clara half-joked.

“... I guess not.”

Though it wasn’t exactly a solid answer, if he wasn’t going to say anything further, it was not the night to push him. As open as they had been with each other since the start of their friendship, and as much as Clara didn’t mind, but actually rather enjoyed, the deep talks they had, if given the choice, Clara would opt for her memories of him from that night to be more light, happy. The nerves she was beginning to feel from the anticipation of leaving for Virginia Beach the following morning were beginning to feel like a heavy weight, but she hoped the memories of the night to come would help give her some peace.

And Bradley was quite the sight worth remembering that evening. Wind swept sandy brown hair that was a result of the ride in his Bronco. Dark brown eyes that could hold more emotional depth within them than most people ever got to see. The dazzling smile that almost always reached those eyes.

Even the Hawaiian shirt he donned was no deterrent from the hell of a sight he was.

Clara patted his hand lightly and rose from her seat, wanting to halt her rolling thoughts before they got out of control. “I’m gonna go get us another round.”

Bradley’s eyes traveled across the table to where their hands met. Clara noticed this immediately, and began to withdraw her hand slowly, before he stopped her by lightly wrapping his own around hers.

“Wait,” he said, looking at her seriously once again. “... There actually is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Clara nodded wordlessly, ignoring the buzzing sensation she got from the feeling of his calloused fingers running across her palm. She sat back down on the stool, but Bradley didn’t let go of her hand. Clara looked at him expectantly, trying her best to be patient as she waited for him to tell her what was so important.

“... I can’t hold up my end of the deal anymore, Clara.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What deal?”

“The deal where we agreed to forget that anything happened between us.”

Her initial reaction was shock; she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.

Her second reaction was gratification; so he had known what he’d been doing over the last six months when he had been giving her mixed signals! It was nice to know that she wasn’t the only one who had been having a hard time letting go of the past, try as she might.

But her final reaction, and the one that hit her the strongest, was one of sadness.

They couldn’t have this conversation, not here, not now. She was about to leave to go across the country in the morning, and he still had six months left of training in California. They had had years to come to this sort of revelation about the nature of their relationship, and for one reason or another, neither had been able to do so. Though Clara felt some relief in the fact that she hadn’t been alone in her pining for him, the timing of it made it all the more difficult to accept.

“I see your mind running a million miles an hour, Red Cross.”

Clara knew Bradley hadn’t meant any harm by his attempt at a joke, but she couldn’t help but be slightly irritated by it anyway. “What do you expect me to say to that, Brad?”

“Have you held up your end of the deal?”

Clara frowned. “We were talking about you.”

“And now, I’m asking about you. Can you look me in the eyes and honestly tell me that you haven’t thought about the kiss at all since we made that agreement six months ago?”

She couldn’t. She knew he could tell, too. “We can’t talk about this right now. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”

“Then there’s no better time,” Bradley offered, as if the answer was simple.

Clara huffed at his casualness. “Okay, so we’ve both thought about it- what good would talking about it actually do? It won’t solve anything. If anything, it'll just make things between us more complicated. I want you in my life, Brad, and if that means ignoring these damn feelings I have for you until they go away and I can finally accept that it’s better for both of us to just be friends, I’m more than willing to do that.”

The way Bradley was looking at her was… intense, for a lack of better word. He regarded her carefully, his eyes boring into hers as contemplating his next words. “... What if we didn’t have to wait for the feelings to go away?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before I explain, you have to promise to hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“What if we… ‘got it out’ of our system?”

His gaze continued to hold her own as he watched her process the meaning of his subtle suggestion.

“... You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Clara grumbled, attempting to remove her hand from his and rising from her stool.

“Clara, hear me out. Please.”

His tone made her pause. There was no trace of laughter, no hint that this was a joke that he had taken too far. He sounded vulnerable. Part of her wanted him to squirm a little bit, knowing exactly what that felt like. But even though he had been the cause of such feelings for her, she didn’t have the heart to willingly subject him to the same.

Clara took mercy on Bradley and sat back down at the stool, ignoring the eyes of nearby nosey patrons who had begun to eye their table curiously.

Though he seemed relieved that she hadn’t stormed off, yet, Bradley still looked on edge. Whether that was from nerves about her reaction or just the sheer topic of their conversation was unclear. He slowly leaned in closer to her, and Clara found herself remaining rigidly still. His face was just inches from hers, and Clara could only imagine what the girl at the bar would think if she saw them at that moment.

An intimate conversation, indeed.

“Just say the word, and I will drop you off at your apartment, and never speak to you again,” Bradley said, his voice low. Had he not been so close, Clara would have had to strain in order to hear him. “Or, if you want, we can pretend like this conversation never happened- and I promise to hold up my end of the deal this time. You will never hear a peep about this from me, ever again.”

Not sure how to respond, Clara nodded wordlessly to acknowledge that she was very much paying attention.

“I know nothing serious can happen between us for a whole lot of reasons,” Bradley admitted, and if Clara hadn’t been so captivated by his every word at that moment, she would have sworn there was a hint of regret lacing his words. “But we still have tonight.”

Her mouth suddenly felt dry, but feeling no other option under his unwavering gaze, she willed herself to respond. “What exactly are you proposing we do?”

“... It’s not really romantic if I have to spell it out.”

Regardless of the situation, Clara couldn’t help chuckle. “Oh, so this is you trying to be romantic?”

“No, just- ugh.” Thankfully, her joke successfully eased some of the tension. Even Bradley looked a bit grateful for the sudden interruption, and he dropped his gaze to let out a brief, breathy laugh.

Feeling emboldened, Clara reached out, and placed a hand on his knee, not knowing- or even caring- if she had meant the gesture to be comforting or enticing.

Bradley’s eyes snapped up to hers once again, and the tension quickly magnified. “I don’t know what this is me trying to be. All I know is that I care about you, Clara, a lot more than I should. A lot more than I ever planned on. And, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you feel the same about me.”

For how little Clara had to drink, his verbal admission of his feelings still had her feeling groggy with disbelief. “I care about you a lot more than I should, too.”

The hopeful smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat. “Then, would this really be that crazy? We’re both adults.”

They were. Adults who were probably far too willing to enable each other, but adults nonetheless.

“We could have tonight,” Bradley continued, “And then maybe we can finally be able to move on.”

The suggestion was risky, and emotional damage in some shape or form to one or both of them was very likely, if not imminent. And still, Clara was painfully aware of their hands, one of which was still intertwined with one of his on the table, and the other that was resting comfortably upon his knee. Just the small touches alone were extremely tempting, and she couldn’t help but crave more.

… If she was going to do this crazy of a thing with anybody, Bradley Bradshaw was certainly at the top of her list. Hell, he was the only one on the list. She trusted him full-heartedly.

“What’s your answer, Red Cross?” Bradley asked, sounding starkly meek despite his rather bold suggestion.

“Is that still your first beer?”

Brows furrowed, he glanced over at the beer bottle. “Yeah… Is that still your first drink?”

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the alcohol talking.”

“It’s not,” he promised.

“I know.”

“Then what-”

Clara silenced him by closing the distance between them and kissing him. Though he was stunned initially, Bradley returned the kiss with fervor a split second later, his free hand slowly coming up to rest on her waist.

They couldn’t be sure how long they were caught up with one another, but eventually, the need for air outweighed everything else, and the pair were forced to pull away.

“We really don’t have to do this,” Bradley mumbled quickly, his eyes darting towards her lips.

Clara’s heart wrenched a little at his clear concern for her. She squeezed his hand tighter. “I know. But I want to... I want to do this with you, Brad.”

She could tell by the look that flashed across Bradley’s face that her words meant as much to him as the notion did to her. Still, he insisted, “Well, you can still change your mind-”

“If I change my mind at any point tonight, I promise to tell you,” Clara assured him quickly, pulling him to her by his shirt and kissing him once again. When she pulled away a few moments later, she was tempted to laugh by the dazed expression on his face.

“Your place, or mine?” he managed to ask.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m going with you,” she replied breathlessly, unable to control the giddy smile on her lips. But as the realization of what was actually going to happen dawned on her, she found herself suddenly nervous. “Just… Take me to home? Please.”

She would eventually come to realize that ‘home’ was simply wherever he was.

The smile he gave in response her did wonders to soothe her anxiousness. This was Bradley... She had no real cause to worry at all.

Bradley rose from his stool swiftly, holding a hand out to her. “Show me the way, Darling.”

Bradley awoke the next morning to the sun streaming in through a small crack in the curtains. He closed his eyes, sighed contently, and reached out to the space on the bed beside him. When his hands were met with nothing but empty air, he opened his eyes again and frowned.

He sat up, head swiveling around the room as he searched for any sign of his companion who he’d come home with the previous night. Though there was no sign of her, or any of her belongings, for that matter, there were several signs of the activity they had partaken in a few hours before. Various things throughout the room were off just a bit- physically not where he recalled having left them, or otherwise missing from their usual place entirely.

It was almost comical. He didn’t remember them being so particularly clumsy the night before, but he reasoned that they had both been so engrossed on the task at hand that it probably took a back seat in their minds at the time.

It was… indescribable. Better than he had dared to hope for. Better than he probably deserved. Very much like their kiss a few years back, it just felt right. Not that it could ever feel wrong. Not with her.

But, just like that- it was over. Unceremoniously and anti-climatically, he’d been left to process what had happened all by himself. And Clara Wells was gone from his life for the foreseeable future. Again.

Something odd at the foot of Bradley’s bed broke his train of thought. His clothes from the night before were folded in both a neat and yet slightly disheveled fashion, as if it had been done intentionally but also with some haste. He almost laughed into the silent air at the thought of Clara trying to straighten up the room a little before sneaking out earlier in the morning.

At least all of his articles of clothing appeared to be accounted for… with one notable exception.

Bradley smiled fondly. His little kleptomaniac.

Despite himself, Bradley laughed. Being “buddies” was possibly one of the biggest understatements to exist ever when it came to the extent of his feelings about her. But, on a bare minimum level, it was technically true.

And if he had to decide between being buddies, or them being nothing at all, Bradley knew what he’d choose in a heartbeat.

Chapter 4

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Any and all feedback is most definitely welcomed and appreciated. If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let me know.😊💙

Taglist: @gretagerwigsmuse @unluckymonaghan @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @roosterschanelslut @letusbewildflowers @roses-and-grasses

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thats-the-teen-spirit · 5 months

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Top 10 songs of 2023, reviewed by yours truly

As per tradition when Spotify Wrapped comes out I write short reviews of the best songs of the year so here we go:

10. One More Time by blink-182

The biggest reveal from the world of pop punk last year was that blink-182 is back... again. First I was a little sceptical especially after hearing Edging but this song, and its video made me listen. The lyrics are about the long lost friendship between Travis, Mark and Tom, and to be completely honest I shed a couple teardrops the first few times I gave it a listen. Amazing song from an amazing record.

9. Homicide by Magnolia Park

I'm completely new to this band, I found this song randomly in an Instagram reel that caught my attention. It's super catchy, almost Linkin Park-ish vibes that is a little "Octanecore" little pop punk, but nevertheless an absolute banger.

8. Jaded by Spiritbox

Spiritbox is the new shit in the scene, everyone and their mom knows about it. But just a little less than a month ago they put out an EP consisting of 6 melodic and heavy bangers called The Fear of Fear. This song stands out from the EP because of the insanely catchy chorus, the breakdown with the clean guitar melody and just the overall feeling of the song. Courtney has always been open about her influences (even and especially the pop ones) and this song is a great example to it.

7. Lost by Linkin Park

On the 20th anniversary of Meteora, Linkin Park released a bunch of unreleased material from the recording session of the legendary album and this was the first single off of it. What more can I say about it? If you haven't heard it despite liking Linkin Park then shame of you.

6. Without A Whisper by Invent, Animate

Another surprise as I've never been a big fan of the band. Not being so into the Deftones-y spacey vibes before, this band always has been a hit or miss. Until Heavener. It's blended so seemlessly that first I didn't even notice that there's now screaming instead of singing with a bunch of reverb. I still almost never skip this song despite Heavener being released earlier this year.

5. Fake Out by Fall Out Boy

This one is probably the only song on the list that is not a single, not even the top 3 from their album So Much (for) Stardust. The boys are officially back and this song proves it, The falsetto hook in the chorus got stuck in my head after the first few listens. I'm really really glad they are back to playing instrumental music because that's what they do best.

4. Might Love Myself by Beartooth

For me this year was about healing. Healing from a past breakup, losing my previous job, and just in general the depressing reality of adulthood. After hearing the first singles from the latest Beartooth album it was obvious that Caleb, the singer for the band had been through a similar journey prior to writing this record. This song stands out for me because of the overwhelmingly positive self-loving lyrics that are a must-listen when you have been through a lot of shit. I also like the little "whoo" before the second chorus, it really makes it sound like Caleb had a lot of fun recording it.

3. Haunted by Spanish Love Songs

The most underrated band on the list by a landmile. Also probably the most depressing band I've ever listened to, which says something. The whole new record No Joy has some really interesting musical changes from the previous ones, there's less screaming, less distorted guitars, it has more of a The Killers vibe than something off tumblr's 2015 pop punk hardcore best of (looking at you The Story So Far). Haunted is a bittersweet tune about being nostalgically sad about the old days, and for an old fart that is closer to 30 than to 20 it's a comforting thing that I'm not alone with this feeling.

2. LosT by Bring Me The Horizon

What do you get when you mix 'I'm not Okay' and current era Bring Me The Horizon? That's right, this fucking banger. I think throughout the year this song was the only one that I've never skipped. The pop punk-emo feeling is in every note, the breakdown is easily my most favorite of the year, the callout for it is even. "I think i'm gonna break down". Fucking genius by the most dynamic songwriting duo of the music scene, Oli and Jordan. The powerpop elements are also fun to listen to, it just blends really well. 10/10 banger, looking forward to the EP.

Ascensionism/Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token

The biggest band of the year was 100% Sleep Token. My Spotify was POSSESSED by their music this year, so obviously it was a tough choice to pick a song from their latest album so I cheated a little with the longest, most progressive songs of the record. Their music feels like a religious experience for me and the best example to this is Ascensionism, the "YOU MAKE ME WISH I COULD DISAPPEAR" line hits, the rap part fits perfectly, the guitars are heavy as balls, the piano intro is the perfect introduction, it's a 12/10 song, it's that good

And honestly I have the same feelings about Take Me Back to Eden. The titular song and its callbacks to Chokehold made me feel like I'm in a chokehold myself. The epitome of great songwriting was when from the nature sounds through rapping we got to the heaviest, low tuned breakdown of the last couple years

So there you have it, my personal top 10+1 list. If you read my review this far, thank you.

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muppetsfan243 · 1 year

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My Two Cents on this whole Thomas Sanders/Sander Sides Situation as an Old Viewer

AUTHOR'S NOTE - Wow, this post turned out to be way longer than I anticipated, so here's the TL;DR if you don't want to read the whole thing. I'd still recommend to do so, but yeah. TL;DR - I think Thomas Sanders and his team are valid for taking a long time to work on stuff like the Sander Sides finale, but I think some criticisms the community has are valid too, and it's nice to see people in the Thomas Sanders community speak up about their criticisms. Alright, as I said in my previous post, I dipped out of Sander Sides about two-ish years ago, mainly because I myself was growing out of the series. With all due respect to everyone who works on the show past and present, I didn't like that episodes were starting to become more story-driven with heavy morals and deep meanings, to me, it was no longer a short light-hearted series about random everyday subject matters with comedy and skits to pace it out. But of course, that's just a me thing, it's clear that the direction Sander Sides went ended up making the series a huge success and I don't fault people for liking the series where it's at or what it's become. If you enjoy Sander Sides, that's great, more power to ya! Anywho, I don't know how or why, but on my "For You" feed, I stumbled upon a post criticizing Thomas for a recent update video he made regarding his content overall, saying he was making false promises and that they are tired of being given these false hopes every year when they never come to be. That post led me down a whole rabbit hole on Tumblr of many users criticizing Thomas on a lot of things, mainly the communication with his fans.

Admittedly, a lot of the posts I've found I have mixed feelings on; I said this in a reblog/repost (whatever it's called on this app, I'm still learning), but a lot of them feel as if they don't understand what goes into making a big project of any kind. You can check out my reblog of Rixitup's post if you want my full thoughts on that matter, but in short, speaking as someone who is a small creator who has big visions for things I want to make in the future, it can take a lot, and I mean a LOT, of time to create something to be the way you envision it. Sometimes it may take a few months, other times it can take a couple of years. I don't know Thomas himself, nor do I know what his thought process for this finale and the series as a whole is, but if he wants the finale to look a specific way, then I can understand why he and the team have been taking so much time to get this finale going. Remember, the world is still opening back up from a pandemic we went through for about three years, and especially given where Thomas and his team are located, I wouldn't be surprised if that has played a big role in halting most of the production on the finale until now.

With all of that said, however, I will say, for those who have, it's really nice to finally see some people in this community give constructive criticism regarding Thomas Sanders as a creator. When I was part of the community, I remember having all these feelings regarding Thomas' work and especially Sander Sides, including how I felt the show has become a bit too serious for my liking and how the show has become less light-hearted. But often, I'd keep my mouth shut because no one else within the community that I saw would ever give out any sort of criticisms regarding them. The only times I would do so was with friends who were into Thomas Sanders' stuff, and even then, I was often frown upon, some saying my opinion was invalid because Thomas works so hard to get this stuff out. And don't get me wrong, I genuinely believe he does! The enthusiasm he puts into his non-series videos seems legit. But it felt like in this community, you weren't allowed to criticize Thomas, Sander Sides, or anything Thomas Sanders related, like Thomas was a god who could do no wrong. That was another reason why I left the fandom, to have your voice not only be unheard but also invalidated, that hurts a lot, especially in a community that's meant to be respectful to one another.

Now in early 2023, to see a slew of people constructively criticize Thomas, Sander Sides, and other things, it feels so....nice. It feels great to know that I'm not alone in thinking or feeling certain things for many years, namely...

The Lack of Light-Hearted Comedic Episodes - Again, I think with where Sander Sides is now, this isn't an issue, but it is something older viewers like me miss a lot. Remember, Sander Sides didn't start out as this story-heavy/driven series with many plots and lore, it was originally just a fun side series Thomas did to discuss different topics or moral thoughts he had in his mind, expressing them with some comedic banter with his Vine characters, plus one original character. That was what drew me into the series and I wish we had more smaller videos like that inbetween the more story-driven ones (and also ones that weren't just simply ads), they're just a good breather from those episodes.

The Need of Communication with Fans - Now I personally believe that Thomas doesn't owe the fans anything in terms of the actual content in question, as at the end of the day, it's up to him of whether or not he feels comfortable with doing whatever he's creating/making. The only thing I would say he does owe to his viewers, though, is just updates and explanations as to what's going on. He doesn't have to say when episodes or stuff are coming out, it can just be simple stuff like "Hey, we're about to work on X and Y regarding this project!" or "Gonna be taking a break from this for a bit." I know the big topic right now is the season finale, but I'd like to point out "A Recipe for Me" and how long that took to get out there. Now I'm not gonna blame Thomas for how long it took to publish the song, I'm sure there's a lot that goes into creating a song from getting musicians, a composer, a company to distribute and handle the copyrights for the song, and much more. My issue is that the music video specifically features a ton of fans who paid a certain amount of money to be featured in a future video. This was at a New York event in August of 2017, and the music video didn't come out until late 2019; Thomas never gave out any updates between then as to what this video was or when it would come out. I don't know, to me, that feels a little bit rubbish; if I paid a certain tier to get featured on something, especially if it's hyped up in an advertising campaign, I'd like to know any updates on how that video is going along. I know there's also some controversy with the Patreon stuff, but I can't really speak on that matter, as I never participated in his Patreon page, mainly because I'm not interested in it.

Character Derailing - This one's a little bit more simpler than the previous two and is definitely an opinion thing, but yeah, really didn't like how some of the characters have been derailed once the show switched permanently to a story-driven format starting with "Accepting Anxiety." Whether or not it's because of the whole "orange side" plot, I personally don't know, but I miss it when characters like Roman and Patton were a lot caring of the other Sides or how Logan had a soft spot for the others but rarely feels comfortable to admit it. I don't really know how to describe this one right now, I've been writing this post for too long. XD

Of course, not all of the criticisms I agree with and some of the posts under the hashtag #tscritism do feel a bit more mean-spirited than genuine criticism, but overall, it does feel nice to know I'm not alone in thinking these things for so long. Especially after being shamed upon for having some personal criticisms with Thomas' content, reading some of these posts made me feel a bit better.

All that said, I'll leave you all with this note. It's okay to criticize someone you look up to, someone you like, no one's perfect, no one's gonna be this god of a person, an almighty being and such. It's important to acknowledge these criticisms as they can be used to further improve someone or something. However, don't go sending hate to Thomas and his team or push them to get stuff like the finale out. To me at least, it's clear that they have a specific vision for how they want this finale to go. Do they have to do it this way? No, they could just do a simple video inside Thomas' living room and call it a day. But that's not what they want the finale to be and that's okay. If they want this to have multiple sets, musical numbers, be four parts, then they do them. At the end of the day, it is Thomas' creation and he deserves to end the season (or series, I can see this being the series finale too) however way he wants to.

That's my two cents, definitely a lot longer than I anticipated. But hey, that's me for ya, I have a lot of thoughts to share on certain things, and I guess this is the first time I let a few of them out here on Tumblr.

#thomas sanders #sander sides #tss #tss critical #tss critic #tss criticism #ts criticism #creator #content creator #creators #two cents #entertainer

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bw2 · 10 months

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Hi I’m hyper right now I just took my adderall cause I’m going to the water park in 2 hours and like I’ve had a total of 10 hours of sleep in the last two days. So I’m gonna gush about my night and my man of the month. Hi

Okay so last night I went out with my friend + nail girl Tori and her coworker Keona (I was really happy Keona joined us because she’s really cool. I like her a lot.) and like. We started at this one club and while we were getting drinks, I saw the guy who groped Tori and I a few weeks ago looking at us LOL. Then he and his buddy eventually approached us and was like “hey let’s get some shots” so the dude bought us all shots and he was acting super weird towards me and it made me feel so fucking autistic cause I don’t know how to react to like random people flirting with me when I’m sober. He kept reaching his hand out and every time I was like “what’s up?” And then he’d give me this one face and it was so confusing. God. Anyway he put my lime in my drink for me and was just acting really weird but I was too anxious to refuse the drink so I took the shot and then texted Keona that I was worried the guy put a roofie in it. She told me that she’s uncomfortable with the guys too and that she wants to get out so we grabbed Tori, Keona said super bitchy thing to them, then walked out. THEN we ran into some girls Tori knows and we told them about the guys. And they were like “we will start shit” then eventually the guys come out and start hanging out on the sidewalk and like looking at us. Then Tori and those girls started yelling at them LOOOL.

Around the same time, this guy approaches Keona and I and is like “hey so my friend is over there selling bracelets, but business is really slow tonight. If I give you $10 will you buy one from her? It’ll mean a lot to her” so then Keona and I grabbed Tori and we looked at the girl’s bracelets and I used his $10 to buy one. It was sooooo sweet of him to like do that for her. The seller was really nice too and she looked so happy when I bought it! It was such a good moment. This is the bracelet btw! Super cute

Then we went to another club and Tori ran into some woman she knows and the woman’s work friends. They let us have free white claws LMAOO. Some middle aged guy who was in the group was talking to me and like he was attractive and rich but like I remembered I was gonna snap Chase (my mixed boy monday) and say “omgggggg are you downtown!? I think I just saw you” cause he told me the other day he was gonna be busy on Saturday night and like where else would a 23 year old who lives super close to downtown do on a Saturday night. BUT. Right as I opened my to phone to take the snap, he texted me asking me what I’m doing. I told him to come to the club I was in, but he was in the club next door with this guy who was wasted and didn’t wanna leave him so I told my friends where I was going and just went to the club he was in but like it took me 20 minutes to find him cause I didn’t realize he was in the middle of the dance floor crowd. I was so pissed while looking for him but I eventually found him and then like 15 or so minutes later we went to the club Tori was at and like I was so worried that he was gonna ditch me LOL like I held in my pee cause I thought he was going to. I was also worried he was gonna think Tori’s hotter than me and ghost me aster.

Anyway we like were talking about leaving and I told him I’ll drive us to his place cause I was sober and the last drink I had was at 11:45 ish and it was 1:15 at that point. I guess Tori was sitting on a couch kinda by us and sent me this LOLLLL

he’s straight btw

Then. We eventually left and he was like “oh shit I want a hot dog” so he got himself a burrito thing from a hot dog stand and also ordered me fries ? I told him I’m not eating tonight but like he was faded and ordered them anyway. Then told me that I told him to get them for me!? When he was ordering I was talking to this gay couple and their lesbian friend and they were all so cool and funny.

Then I joined Chase in food pickup line and we were talking and stuff and I mentioned how I took my full adderall dose at 4 pm and had an energy drink so I was super on edge before coming out and he was like “yeah I found Mexican Ritalin on the floor at work” !?!!?!!??!??? also he kept talking about like how good I looked and how attracted to me he is and like how I’m the best he’s ever had and stuff and like. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

He like got his food and we sat while he ate and he was like “dude why did you get yourself those fries if you aren’t gonna eat them” he’s insane.

He kept trying make me eat the burrito but I was like “no dude I’m not eating tonight” and then he was like “wait. Are you lactose? You’re lactose! Lactose! Lactose!” cause I didn’t want the food. he kept bullying me it was so funny.

He like finally finished his burrito and then we continued walking back to my car and he started eating the fries he got and was like trying to get me to eat those too and was like “wait you don’t eat pork???” cause I didn’t want them AAUHAJQKQJWWJJWWWJWU.

He mentioned being mixed or something and like I already figured he was mixed latino cause I have a gaydar but for mixed Latinos. And I was like “dude this is gonna sound weird but what’s your race” and he told me his mom is white and his dad is Mexican LMAOOO I told him I’m basically the same and stuff.

Then like he went over to this dude and was like “hey do you want some fries” and started talking to the guy and mentioned how I’m not eating the fries cause I don’t eat pork then went “the only meat she eats is mine” cause I had made some dumb joke like that a few minutes prior and the guy gave him a fistbump. It was so corny but like funny.

We like went by freak alley I think. Or just some random alley idk then like made out again and then went to my car and he couldn’t figure out how to drink out of my water bottle and spilled a bunch of water on himself cause he didn’t know there was a straw in it?

Then we drove to his house and slept cause he was still faded. I love sleeping with him like. He’s so nice to sleep with his skin is so soft and he’s so comfortably warm AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Also I’m mad cause I didn’t take a selfie with him. Also I’m pegging him tonight.

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patrice-bergerons · 1 year

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now you need to tell everyone about your 00q idea set in istanbul

OMG thank you Faatimah for indulging me 💖

The elevator pitch goes like this:

First as background, Q had a (OC) Turkish bf back in uni and they got along like a house on fire; only broke up when the bfs parent got cancer or sthing and he decided to move back to Istanbul. They kept in touch though and for Q it was one of those easy, wonderful relationships where you can not see or talk to someone for months but when you do see them again you just pick up where you left off. The dude (I want him to have an old fashioned name like Bülent) was also always talking abt moving back to London someday and altho what they have never stopped either from dating other people, I suppose in the back of his head Q always thought they would one day find themselves in the same city and get back together again.

The fic opens when this friend falls suddenly and fatally ill and Q wants to visit him before he dies. Q has also been put in some peril on the job a couple months back and he is emotionally still reeling from it, so not wanting to brave the trip alone, he asks Bond to come with him.

Now onto Bond--he and Q kinda dated a few years ago but Bond (self)sabotaged it and it took a lot of time for them to find their rhythm as friends again. But then when Q was in peril, everything fell into place for Bond. He realised that he loved this man, that he messed up before bc he was scared and that he wants to build a life with Q; if he gets a second chance (which he then thought he might) he would do everything in his power to make Q happy. And hell, even if he doesn't get that second chance he would still just be there for Q in any way Q needs him. Which is also why Q felt so comfortable asking him to come along, bc he has been so good subtly being there for Q in the aftermath of this traumatic event.

Except, Bond has been dragging his feet re making another romantic overture, bc, he has been saying to himself, Q is still vulnerable but its also low key bc he is scared--of the answer he is going to get, of the ways he can mess it up again. It's one thing to decide you will be the perfect boyfriend in your head and another to commit to it day in, day out. It's no matter he thinks, there is no rush, they have time.

So then SURELY in Turkey while Qs friend is dying is the worst possible time to bring any of this up, which is...fine up until Q says he's got this offer from a hedge fund in new york and he will accept it bc he just needs a fresh start somewhere else.

So I guess it's a fic about second chances and being too late - Q grieving for his friend and all the time they wasted and Bond - while pulling a masterclass in looking after Q - grieving for much the same, this realisation that Q will slip away from his fingers, and after everything Q has been thru, after everything Bond has done in the past, how can he ask him to stay?

I LOVE using descriptions of imagery to set the mood and I can go on and on when it comes to Istanbul; I also have a lot of pain and grief in my relationship to that city which would transpose very well onto Q and Bond's grief here I think. Especially as, they would have some time to kill between the friends death and the funeral so they would be going here and there in Istanbul so as to get out of their heads a little, Bond wanting to visit maybe the traumatic places from Skyfall, and bc Bond has that cushy inheritance they would stay at a posh hotel right by the Bosphorus with a view of the strait from their rooms.

And idk after all this angst and pain maybe we can still have a happy-ish ending, perhaps featuring Bond following after Q to NYC and offering his services as a bodyguard.

#james bond #00q #fic ideas #i think bülents biggest flaw was that he did not like iskender #so the honour is all bonds - taking q to my place in Kadıköy and introducing him to iskender done properly for the first time 💯

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savelonkar · 1 year

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CHERRIE NEVER HAD CANCER

Jesus said the truth will set you free. It’s time for me to speak my truth. I’m hoping one day it will set me free. All I want is peace in this life: peace of mind, peace in interactions, peace in relationships. Unfortunately, all my ex wants is war.

You see, we were together for 20 years. We built a life together and raised six kids. It was never easy. Did we struggle from time to time? Certainly, as would any couple. But in 2016, it all went downhill from there. That was the year she conjured up the fake cancer. Yup, you read that right.

CHERRIE NEVER HAD CANCER

Around the time Cherrie turned 35, I was already 41-ish, and had personally started going to the doctor to get the routine checkups you would as an aging individual. Cherrie had never really done the same, so I suggested she see the breast doctor since she was 35 and all. The first time she went for a check-up, or boob-smashing, she informed the breast doctor that her father had cancer years ago. The next appointment, I went along with Cherrie. At the time, I was working full-time, as I was always the sole provider, and I was teaching and working through my email during the appointment. After all, this was just a checkup, right? During the appointment, the doctor asked if anyone else in Cherrie’s family had gotten cancer as of late, and it just so happened that her aunt Carol, her mother’s sister, had breast cancer pretty recently. When the doctor heard that, she left the room for a few minutes, then came back. When she returned, she told Cherrie she would now need a double mastectomy. I admit I was half-listening when she said that. I was shocked, and like, “Can we get a second opinion?” The doctor explained that this was a preventative measure, based on an algorithm, and insurance companies started approving of this procedure, as it saves them money in the long run. Angelina Jolie was one that many will remember having done this same thing. When we went home, I started looking up other alternatives. I told Cherrie she should see another doctor, get another opinion, look at other options. Why did she have to do ANYTHING? There is NO CANCER. Plus, we were up to six kids at that time. Our littlest guy was just nine months old, and breastfeeding. Cherrie talked to family and friends, and then went full-tilt on doing the double mastectomy. She started a Facebook “tribe” to catalog her story, she started “Cherrie’s tribe” on Facebook, and started gathering followers, to follow her pseudo cancer story.

She died her hair purple, an FU to the pink that represents breast cancer. She got others to wear purple to support. A few weeks later, in February, she gathered myself and a few friends, and she was singing and dancing and rapping all the way to the operating room. She fist-pumped to the Australian Sia/David Guetta’s Titanium. I really did not have much time to process all of this. With everything that was happening, we also had six kids, ranging from less than a year, all the way to eight years of age. All I really understood was that Cherrie was steadfast through this whole thing.

Three or four hours into Cherrie’s double mastectomy, Dr. K, the breast surgeon, came out and found me. I was grading a bunch of classes to pass the time. “Good news!” “We did not find any cancer.” “I know,” I said to myself, relieved but then again, there was NEVER any signs of CANCER. Check this actual post from her good friend that was at the hospital at that time:

UPDATE: first portion of the surgery (the bi-lateral mastectomy) is complete and "went off without a hitch" and everything looked good. The breast surgeon is “fairly certain pathology on the breast tissue will come back benign". Since Cherrie had no active cancer and the suspicious lymph node appears to have been only an infection as it shrunk back to normal size (cancerous lymph nodes do not do that without help) there is a 1-3% chance of anything showing up. Pathology results will be back Monday. They did not do a node biopsy or sentinel node biopsy as the node is normal, it is just standard procedure to send the breast tissue to pathology. The plastic surgeon is doing her portion now (placing the expanders) and should be done in the next 2 hours.

Read that again. That was the truth.

Four hours later, Cherrie was boob-free. For the greater part of the next two years, as Cherrie lie there healing and posting about her story on the “tribe” page, the majority of the days and nights at home, I became the kids’ father and mother all wrapped up in one. Our littlest child was not even a year old when she had the big surgery, so he had to stop breastfeeding, and he could not even go onto his mommy’s lap (due to all the surgeries and incisions) for a couple of months. Every few months, her body would not react well to its healing, there’d be an infection, the list goes on, and she would have to go in for more surgeries (first to heal something that was not healing correctly, and eventually for reconstruction). When the same breast surgeon went in there at the end of April, they called it a bilateral necrosis and unilateral infection. Dead tissue was removed, and the infection was cleaned.

Fast forward to today, I combed through Cherrie’s Tribe page, because I really wasn’t sure where the fake cancer story started, when she went from saying there was no cancer, to saying she was a cancer survivor. But I can bet that Cherrie knew where this story was going even before she got to the hospital for that first surgery. It was primed and fluffed to be a well-scripted string of half-truths and lies.

You see, Cherrie has this weird thing. She takes bits and pieces of other peoples’ stories, or she crafts her own stories to garner attention or favor or money, and then she morphs them into what she says is her own story. You know that lady that made up crap about her daughter Gypsy Rose? Well, Cherrie makes up crap about her own conditions and diagnoses. I would not figure all of this out until after we had split, years later.

Let me give you an example. Over the years, Cherrie said she had 11 miscarriages. That’s right, she said she had 11 miscarriages with me. More often than not, I would get a call while at work, and she would tell me she “lost the baby.” I grieved hard every fricking time. There was only one time I remember going to the doctor, during one of our “pregnancies,” and then they told us that we no longer had a baby. There was one time, we had to do a D&C (Dilation and Curettage), and that really happened. But all the others, like the other 9? Who knows if they ever happened. You know, Cherrie was engaged to a guy that was already married, before I was in the picture, back in 2000-2001. He had an apartment with Cherrie, while his wife and their babies lived in a neighboring suburb. To throw the scent off, Cherrie’s then “fiancé” informed his actual wife that he just had a crashpad w/Cherrie, as they were flight attendants together. He also said that Cherrie contracted HIV at a very young age due to all the blood transfusions she had as a child. The actual wife grew suspicious, as her husband had many late night/early morning phone calls with Cherrie. There was one phone call she overheard, when her husband was speaking to Cherrie, he said, “Everything is gonna be alright, as long as I continue to get sympathy from my wife.” Back in 2001, Cherrie went with her mother and her “fiancé” and bought an engagement ring/wedding band set. The rings cost her mother $5500. The "fiance" that was already married, to his college sweetheart. His actual wife had a baby in 2000, they had another baby in 2002. Cherrie and her "fiancé" were together in 2001. Cherrie told me that she got pregnant with his baby, too, and then lost it. Who knows if that ever happened.

Back to the “cancer.”

Here’s the thing, she NEVER HAD CANCER. It was all a lie. She started fabricating the “cancer story” immediately after she came home from her double mastectomy. Like IMMEDIATELY, like the day or two after she was able to come home. March 1st, 2016, to be exact. She became my ghost writer, and put a bunch of loving husband posts and fictitious information about her surgery and her recovery. She did this for two entire years! When you look through the Cherrie’s Tribe page on Facebook, I’ll bet like 1-2% of the posts “by me” were actually written by me. In fact, when Cherrie was in the hospital (the first time, February 2016), she asked for my Facebook login and password. This was all a setup, one that helped her gain followers to follow her FAKE CANCER story. While she was healing, she was on lots of drugs, pain meds and such. She sat their like a vegetable many days, sat their in a very nice big electronic lounge chair that one of her friends purchased with their bingo or knitting club money. We had a Meal Train on and off for like two years, and since we did not have any relatives here in Arizona, sometimes relatives would come to visit. “What can I do to help?” they all asked me. I told them that I would take care of all the six kids, and their best efforts were to stay by Cherrie’s side, make sure she is taking her pain meds, and be there for her. By the time I would get to bed, I would be absolutely beat, from working all day, and running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to create some normalcy with the daily routine for our kids in an abnormal situation. Once Cherrie was “healed,” she started taking girlfriend trips immediately, to celebrate her “beating cancer.” It was all a lie, one that she used to broadcast a fake condition, and one that helped her grow socially to grandiose proportions. After all, who wouldn’t love a super mom with six kids that fought and beat cancer? Cherrie then told me that, given her “near death” experience, that she changed and I didn’t. When did I have time to “change?” She never had cancer, and I had to run my ass off and play along with her fakedom, taking care of six kids while working a full-time job, going to college, and teaching classes at the university.

Cherrie then used her newfound notoriety to start what is now her thriving business, that serves the special needs and foster/adopt population. The thing is, she NEVER HAD CANCER. Yet that one truth, or in her case, that one LIE, is what she built a million dollar business on.

Seriously, do you have any relatives that fake things like cancer? I have a cousin that once brought a baby that was not hers to a Christmas gathering, and I thought that was the lowest thing ever. But to fake CANCER? One more thing I have to say about that. In 2016, one of my closest colleagues Dave got diagnosed with cancer, and slowly deteriorated over the next two years till he died from his disease. When he was finished with chemo, as his body could not take anymore, he gave his bell that he got at his final chemo treatment to me, to give to Cherrie. He thought it might help her gather strength to beat it. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, as my life was busy covering up this gargantuan lie. So, I brought it home and gave her this gift. Shortly after my dear friend Dave died, I asked Cherrie if I could give the bell back to Dave’s widow. Her response was, “Well, it WAS a GIFT to ME.” And she wasn’t having it. To this day, you will find Dave’s bell sitting like an unearned trophy in her bedroom, for all to see.

CHERRIE NEVER HAD CANCER.

The late Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, “There is justice, and there is injustice. There is no in-between.” The last few years, I have experienced many injustices. I have cried more in the past two years than I ever have in my entire life. Life is not meant to be this hard. My life is supposed to be MY LIFE. It’s time to start shouting the truth from the rooftops. She’s the Facebook life. I’m the real life.

I’ve already lost almost two years here with my kids. Every time I think my life cannot get any worse, it does. When will this pain and heartache end? When will I be able to see my kids, back to the 50/50 it stated in our divorce decree from two years ago?

From September through December, Cherrie had other people in her life drop our kids off at the “transfer.” She “showed up” for the first time in 4 months to “transfer” our kids at the police station on Christmas Eve. She called the cops. They wished me a Merry Christmas, then asked her to leave. I took five of my kids to Phoenix to feed the homeless in their camps at 10th/12th and Roosevelt. Now, for my 48th birthday, I must go get fingerprinted, because she is saying I violated some order or process. We’ve been divorced for almost two years now. All I want is peace. All she wants is war. You would think after spending 20 years together, there would be some level of human decency. It’ll make a great book/documentary/movie, I guess. Merry Christmas and Happy Bday to me.

CHERRIE NEVER HAD CANCER.

If you'd like to find out more, keep an eye on this blog. I also have a GoFundMe. Do not feel obligated to fund me, but do feel obligated to support me, in mind and spirit, as I am in the fight for my life and for my rights as a father. I welcome your support.

#army veteran #parentalalienation #fathersmatter #fathersrights #truthmatters #munchausen #munchausenbyproxy

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