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#san Wilson x reader
roosterforme · 21 days
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Always Ever Only You Part 34 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Without you at home, Bradley's big mouth is about to get him in trouble. As he counts down the hours until he can pick you up from the airport, you wrap up your trip to Maryland with a visit to your childhood home. However, you're not as smooth as you think you are. By the time you get back to San Diego, you are an absolute train wreck, and some secrets have been revealed.
Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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On Thursday morning, Bradley got to work a little bit early. He just needed to make a tiny detour to one of the database computers. He really wasn't sure if you realized that you told him Commander Patterson's first name last night, or if you let it slip by accident, but now that he knew it, he just wanted to check him out.
Every trip you took to Annapolis turned into some sort of disaster at one point or another. He couldn't imagine you were out there looking for trouble, but it sure did find you in the form of Derek or Josh. You were the most capable person Bradley knew, but he loved and respected you enough to know that sometimes you needed a break. Right now, he just wanted to bring you back home and take care of every tiny need or want that you or the baby might have. He'd honestly fucking delight in that.
As soon as he logged into the system, Bradley typed in your full name, complete with Bradshaw hyphenated at the end. A second later, your image appeared on the screen complete with lovely smile and gorgeous eyes. "That's my Baby Girl," he muttered, still captivated by this photo of you. 
He forced his fingers back to the keyboard, but no results appeared when he looked for Derrick Patterson. He tried Paterson. Then he tried Derick. Then he tried Derek Patterson and saw the face of the asshole who made his wife cry over a steak dinner. Were you more emotional right now than perhaps you would usually be? Absolutely. But that was only because you were pregnant. As soon as you told him you had a positive pregnancy test, Bradley's number one concern in this world simply switched from his wife to his wife and his child. 
This guy looked like a real tool. Forty-four years old. Ranked up to Commander two years ago. Worked in a simulation lab. Had the same degrees from the Naval Academy that you earned. "Yeah, well I can guarantee you're not as smart as her, you motherfucker."
He took another minute to memorize what he saw there before logging out. Maybe he'd ask Maverick about him. Cyclone and Warlock would be good resources, too. Bradley just hated that he wasn't able to make you feel safe and comfortable at the moment, but as soon as he picked you up tomorrow, he'd take care of everything. 
When he started to head out to the tarmac, he literally ran into someone while he was adding steaks to the grocery list he saved in his phone. He didn't know how to cook a steak, but he'd get them just in case you were still in the mood for one. "Sorry," he muttered, not really looking up, too concerned with what else you might want.
"It's okay, Bradley."
Then he did look up into the dark eyes of Maria Wilson. "Hey," he said with a smile at your good friend. "I've been meaning to ask you... how's rooming with Bob going for you?"
"Great," she replied with a little shrug and a completely neutral expression. "He's clean and courteous, and I think the arrangement is going to work out really well." 
If he didn't know better, Bradley would have believed nothing was going on. She was that good. But he did know better. He wasn't going to do Bob dirty, so he just nodded and said, "I hope it does work out. I've always felt a little bad about stealing my wife away from you."
She just laughed and said, "Like we didn't all see that coming a mile away."
He wandered off with a grin on his face after he said goodbye. He was planning on making a few stops on the way home before Jake showed up to workout together later. Bradley just had to get through one more night and then you'd be back.
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You were an idiot for eating two steaks and seventeen pounds of sides and then passing out for the night. Sure, at the time, it seemed like the best idea you'd ever had. Derek's porterhouse hit the fucking spot like nothing else. The potatoes were creamy and delectable. The brussels sprouts? A thing of beauty.
But Thursday morning, you were back to your normal routine of throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. "I get it, okay?" you gasped as you sprawled out on the bathroom floor. "I understand," you added, letting your hand settle on your belly. "You miss your Dad. Well guess what. I miss him, too. Now will you stop acting out if I promise to take you home tomorrow?"
A soft gurgle as your stomach started to settle was the response you got, and that was actually better than you could have hoped for. When you heard tapping on your hotel room door, you knew it was Cat, and you wanted to cry. You were wearing Bradley's UVA shirt and a pair of your ratty underwear and nothing else, and she'd just keep knocking until you answered. 
"I'm coming," you moaned, actually crawling most of the way there. You pulled yourself up and then cracked the door open a few inches, and you were met with Cat's appraising eyes. "Hi."
"I just wanted to know if you wanted to get breakfast with me," she said cautiously.
"No, I'm good, but thanks for asking." You tried to close the door, but her foot was immediately preventing that. 
"Are you sick?" she asked. "I can bring something back for you."
"No, I'm okay," you told her. Your stomach lurched, and your eyes went wide. You had about ten seconds to get rid of her and make it to the toilet. You didn't know what to do as saliva pooled at the back of your tongue. You started to gag as your eyes filled with tears. 
"Hey," she said softly. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."
But you shook your head and let go of the door, making a mad dash back into the bathroom. You barely made it to your knees in front of the toilet before you barfed again. "Why?" you moaned, wiping your mouth with toilet paper before rolling onto the bath mat which had become your best friend.
"Oh my god," Cat muttered as she walked right into your hotel room bathroom. She flushed the toilet and then turned to the sink and started to fill one of the disposable cups with water. "You're pregnant," she stated plainly. "You could have told me, you know. Congratulations, by the way."
As she knelt on the floor next to you, she helped you sit up. You accepted the cup from her and said, "It's just food poisoning." She blinked at you a few times, giving you no wiggle room to lie to her. "Fine," you admitted with a little smile, "I'm pregnant."
She ran the backs of her fingers along your forehead while you sipped the water. "How far along are you?"
"About nine or ten weeks," you whispered as you closed your eyes for a few beats. "I'm just really tired and really fucking sick. I felt good last night, but now I feel terrible again."
Cat took the empty cup from your hand and wrapped you up in a soft hug. "Thank you for holding it together for the presentation. Now you need to get back into bed."
You shook your head and said, "I need to get up and moving so I can go see my parents later."
"No," she said firmly, guiding you back to the bed. "You need to rest right now. You'll feel better if you do." 
Part of you wanted to make sure your suitcase was closed so she didn't see your vibrators, but mostly you didn't even care. She had a certain way about her that was calming you down, and as soon as you were in the bed, she tucked you in. You almost believed her when she told you that resting would help you feel better. 
"Where's your room key?" she asked once you were curled up on your side.
You let one hand sneak out from under the covers and pointed. "Next to the TV."
She patted your shoulder and promised she would be back soon, and then she was gone. You dozed on and off while your stomach gurgled, and you missed a few texts from Bradley. When Cat eventually opened your door and let herself in, you were actually feeling hungry. And that's when you noticed two bags and a cup carrier in her hands. 
Quietly, she set everything down on your nightstand including some orange juice that almost brought a tear to your eye. Somehow she knew that was what you needed when you didn't even know yourself. You sat up as she poked a hole in the lid and handed it to you, and you drank half of it down in one sip.
"You need to eat something," she whispered, taking the cup away again. "I got you a bagel with cream cheese, an egg sandwich, a few different kinds of donuts and a muffin."
You reached for the bagel, and she unwrapped it for you. "I'll pay you back," you rasped, but she shook her head.
"Don't worry about it. Just make the baby happy, and we're square," she replied as she sank down into the chair beside the bed.
But you were definitely going to worry about it. Money was very tight for Cat and Jeremiah, so you would have to figure out a way to make it even. She probably spent about forty bucks on all of this for you, and somehow she knew that a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese would go down as happily as the steaks did. You devoured the whole thing and then took some bites out of the egg and cheese sandwich before finishing the orange juice. 
Then you drank some of the hot tea as well and nibbled on a muffin, and you felt so much better. Cat asked you a few questions, but she didn't pry. "Bradley must be over the moon," she said softly with a sad smile. 
"Oh yeah," you told her, knowing that her ex-husband did not have a relationship with Jeremiah. "He dubbed the baby the chicken nugget." When she laughed, you added, "He's very excited to be a dad."
"He'll be a good one," she confirmed with a nod. "Now why don't you rest for a few more hours, and then I can drop you off at your parents' house so you don't have to drive."
"You don't have to do that."
"I'll drop you off and then go to the outlet mall. There are some things I want to get for Jer, and then I can pick you up again." She probably knew it wasn't a good idea to let you drive like this, and you were honestly kind of thankful that she offered.
"Alright." You fell asleep again as soon as she was gone.
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When Bradley left work, it was blazing hot out, and he had his aviators on while he walked to the parking garage. It was already late as hell in Maryland, and he was a little afraid you had already left your parents and gone back to the hotel for the night. But your phone only rang briefly before you answered his FaceTime call.
"Bradley," you sighed, looking better than he'd seen you in weeks. "Here, say hi to everyone."
You turned your phone to reveal both of your parents along with Cat, sitting around the dining room table in the house where he was finally getting used to spending his holidays. They all greeted him warmly before your mom took the phone and asked him at least a dozen questions.
"Are you eating enough without her at home? How's work? How's Tramp? When can we come visit again, because she's not giving us a clear answer?"
She said nothing about the baby, so Bradley assumed you were holding yourself together well enough that it hadn't been mentioned. "I've been subsiding on cereal. Work is great. Tramp is great. I've been thinking about starting a project to expand the upstairs into another bedroom or two, so hopefully after that's finished, you and dad can stay as long as you want."
Bradley knew they would feel like a handful for him if they stayed at the house again, but that was only because he liked being alone with you. He really wanted to take a minute to talk to you privately, but your dad took the phone next so he could show off his latest painting project. When he finally got handed back to you, apparently it was time for you and Cat to head out. 
"I'll let you know when the flight leaves tomorrow," you told him. "Love you, Roo."
And that was it. With a deep sigh, he started up the red Bronco and headed to the store on his way home. He hated shopping in his uniform; he always got a bunch of looks from people, mostly women. He tried to make it quick, but it took him a little time to gather up steaks, potatoes, garlic, your favorite coffee, and all of the yellow flowers in the floral section. 
He barely had all of the food put away at home when Jake knocked twice on the front door before letting himself in the house. "It's like he fucking lives here," Bradley muttered to Tramp who had been waiting for his scoop of dinner before he ran to see Jeremiah.
"Hey, man," Jake called out. He had Cat's son tucked under one arm and some weird contraption under the other, and he was wearing gym clothes. "Did you just get home?"
"Yeah," Bradley replied, unable to keep himself from smiling when Jeremiah reached out for him. He took the little boy in his arms and told him, "I had to get some stuff for my wife. You remember her. She's your favorite babysitter. She read you some books while you fell asleep, because her voice is the sweetest thing in the world."
Jake rolled his eyes. "Angel made you soft, old man."
Bradley pointed to Jeremiah. "And this little thing made you soft, so you don't have a leg to stand on."
He just kind of shrugged in response and took the child back as he said, "Go get changed. I'll meet you in the garage."
As Jake disappeared through the sliding glass door, Bradley headed to the bedroom. He stripped out of his uniform and put on some shorts and a Top Gun shirt that was starting to fit a little snug across his biceps and chest again. This was a good sign, because he wanted to bulk up as much as possible. He'd be ready to haul the baby and all of the gear around so you didn't have to. 
His thoughts were on you and the baby. You. Baby. You. Baby. He couldn't wait until both of you were home tomorrow. When he walked out to the garage, he found Jake doing a few pushups while Jeremiah played with a stuffed tiger while he sat in some sort of portable crib.
"What is that thing?" Bradley asked as he reached for his lifting gloves. "A mini crib?"
Jake jumped to his feet as he said, "It's called a pack 'n play, but yeah, it's kind of a mini crib that folds up."
"Huh," he replied, eyeing it up so he could search online for that kind of thing later. "Looks handy. We're definitely going to need one of those."
Jake was frozen in place, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. "Is Angel pregnant? I knew her ass looked bigger." A grin curled along his lips, and that was when Bradley realized he had fucked up.
"Oh, shit," he muttered as his heart rate sped up and he started to sweat. You were going to be so upset. Your own parents didn't even know yet, but now Jake did, and it was all his fault.
"She's pregnant!" Jake practically shouted. "Congratulations, Rooster," he said, pulling Bradley into a hug and slapping him on the back. "You finally figured out which hole to put it in, huh?" he asked with an absolutely obnoxious grin.
Bradley glared at him. "Seriously. Nobody else knows about this yet. She might murder me if she finds out you know."
"I won't say shit about it," Jake promised, cuffing him on the shoulder before releasing him. "Damn, she must be excited. I know you both wanted this."
"Yeah," Bradley rasped, just knowing his face must be flushed pink. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm so fucking happy and scared and nervous, I can barely make it through a day without her here, you know?"
Jeremiah roared and held up the tiger for Bradley. He took it and made it roar back before pretending it was kissing Jeremiah all over his face. His laugh was infectious, and it left Bradley smiling. 
"Damn," Jake drawled. "I think you're ready for the parenting thing."
"I know I am," he replied, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm ready."
Jake sighed and nodded. "But you still have a lot to learn. Do you know about outlet covers?"
Bradley's eyes went wide. "No. What are those?"
"How about white noise to help a baby sleep? Do you know what a convertible car seat is?"
"No," Bradley whispered, "No, I don't."
Jake settled back onto the bench and reached for the barbell. "Spot for me, and I'll tell you everything I've learned."
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It was finally Friday morning, and Cat was knocking on your door with another round of food and orange juice before you were even out of bed. When you let her in, she set everything up on the nightstand while you went to use the bathroom, and you were pleasantly surprised that you didn't need to throw up while you were in there.
"Eat as much as you can," she told you. "I asked them to give you a late checkout, so you can stay here until noon, and then we'll head to the airport."
"You're a saint," you told her with a mouth full of bagel. "I owe you so much money for this, you have to let me pay you back."
She just shook her head. "I'll let you babysit Jer so Jake and I can go out one night. Assuming I'm still in a relationship after we get bad to San Diego later tonight."
"You will be," you told her as you sipped the orange juice. "Jake isn't stupid." You paused before you set the juice down in favor of a donut. "Well... he's kind of stupid, but not when it comes to this."
Cat reached into the bag for another donut. "Seriously, if he and Bernie can't figure their shit out, I'll pull the plug and never look at another man again."
"Sometimes they really aren't worth the aggravation," you remarked, thinking back to every guy you dated before Bradley. "But sometimes they surprise you."
She didn't say anything else as she finished her donut. Then she let you take a nap, and when you got up and got dressed, you felt pretty amazing. Your stomach was gurgling quietly, and you looked okay enough to skip the makeup today. 
You dragged your suitcase out into the hallway and texted Bradley, letting him know you were going to be heading to the airport soon, and he responded almost immediately. 
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll meet you in baggage claim sweetheart. i can't wait to have you and the nugget back home with me
You practically moaned, and also started tearing up as Cat met you in the hallway. "When willI I be normal again?" you whispered. "All I want to do is have rough, frequent sex with my husband, but every time I think about how sweet he is, I start crying."
She laughed and said, "You won't feel normal until about six months postpartum. Just have fun running that man ragged."
You nodded and wiped at your tears. "Where's our equipment bin?"
"Already in the car."
"You weren't supposed to move it alone! It's so heavy."
"And you shouldn't be carrying anything like that at all," she scolded, pushing you gently toward the elevators. "I took care of it. I'll take care of it all day, and I'll get your suitcase when we get to the airport, too."
You sobbed the whole way down in the elevator and most of the ride to the airport. When you said thank you, Cat told you to be quiet which made you smile and also cry more. You'd get Bradley to agree to watch Jeremiah for a whole weekend. It would give the two of you some practice, and it would give Cat and Jake time alone. There was no way he was going to mess anything up.
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Bradley parked the red Bronco at the airport with a vase of flowers in the cup holder and an ultrasound picture tucked into the visor. Your flight had been delayed a few times, and he figured you were probably starving now. He picked up the container of peanut butter crackers he prepared and started to head inside, still a little too early but with nothing better to do.
He found an empty bench, and it wasn't long before Jake came strolling in with Jeremiah in his arms. Bradley stood up, jostling the snack container as he muttered, "You're not going to say anything to her, right?"
"Relax," Jake replied as Jeremiah reached for the crackers. "I won't say a word about her being pregnant. You can count on me."
That actually made him feel a lot more nervous as he opened up the container, broke a cracker in half and handed it to Jeremiah. "Okay. Just pretend you don't know a thing about it."
He watched Jeremiah get crumbs all over Jake's shirt as Jake checked his phone. "Sure. Hey, they landed. Cat said they're walking off the plane now."
Bradley checked his phone, but there was absolutely nothing from you, which was really strange. "Huh." He stood there awkwardly as he'd been left out of the loop, handing the other half of the cracker to Jeremiah when he reached for it. 
He watched Jake typing one handed, and then he said, "Apparently there was a ton of turbulence. Angel got pretty sick." When he met Bradley's eyes, he kind of shrugged. "Sounds like she's in bad shape."
Bradley ran his fingers through his hair until it was sticking up at an odd angle. "What's that supposed to mean? How is she in bad shape?" He looked over toward the partition that blocked off the area he wouldn't be able to get past without a boarding pass while he started to panic. Was he going to have to take you to the hospital or something? The cereal and potato chips he had for dinner started to sour in his stomach as he started walking in that direction. 
Then he saw you, and he started running. Cat had her arm around you, and she was carrying your tote bag along with her backpack while you sipped a can of ginger ale through a straw. Bradley could see fresh tears in your eyes as they met his. "Oh, Sweetheart."
"Roo," you croaked, and he closed the rest of the distance to you and carefully took you in his arms. "I was horrible."
Cat took the ginger ale from your hand, and you collapsed against him, a sobbing, shaking mess. "It's okay," he promised you. "You're home now, and I will take care of everything."
You nodded against his chest, and he let you cry. "I threw up so much. I was fine, but then it was really rough, and the baby hates me anyway." You cried harder, and then Jake was there with Jeremiah. He took the container of crackers so Bradley could rub your back with both hands. You hiccupped against him and mumbled, "You can say what you want. Cat knows. She guessed it. Then she took care of me."
Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that someone who had been pregnant before was able to tell that you were now. "Okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. He held you close and gave both Cat and Jake a stern look. "Do you want to go ahead and tell Jake?" he asked carefully. 
"Yeah," you groaned, leaning toward Jake slightly. "I'm pregnant."
If Jake didn't get Bradley out of this debacle safely, he was going to ban him from the home gym. But he should have known that above anything else in this scenario, Jake was going to have your back.
"Aww, Angel," he crooned as Jeremiah climbed into Cat's arms. "I'm so happy for you, mama." Then he kissed your cheek and winked at Bradley. "You'll be a natural, and ol' Rooster here's gonna be a class act. Now why don't you let him take you home? I can get the bin of your work stuff."
"You sure?" Bradley asked, giving Jake a discreet fist bump as you buried your face against his chest again. You were half burrowed inside his tropical print shirt at this point, and his undershirt was damp; he just wanted to get you home.
"We'll take care of it," Cat promised. "She's dehydrated. Make sure she drinks water or gatorade. And she needs to try to eat something." Jake handed the crackers back to Bradley. "Yeah, those might work, but she really needs to keep drinking."
"Got it," Bradley replied, kissing your forehead. "Thank you, Cat."
"It was my pleasure," she said with a smile as she cuddled Jeremiah. 
"Let's go, Baby Girl," Bradley whispered, leading you to get your suitcase as you sipped the ginger ale and nibbled on a cracker. He kept his hand at the small of your back as you sucked in deep breath after deep breath. "I'll get you home and into bed as quickly as possible."
You sniffed and looked up at him. "I just want you with me. That's all I wanted all week." 
Your lips quivered, and Bradley leaned in to kiss you as softly as he could. "That's all I wanted, too. I'm not going to leave your side." He kept you right there with him as he scooped up your luggage, and then he had his arm around you until he got you to the Bronco. With a kiss to your perfect cheek, he opened the door, helped you in, and buckled your seatbelt.
"Thanks, Roo," you sighed, eyes closed as you leaned back against the headrest, already looking more serene now that you and he were together.
"I would do anything for you." He stroked your belly with his fingertips. "Both of you."
Five minutes into the drive home, you were sound asleep, your fingers laced with his.
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I can already feel how much calmer she is just knowing she doesn't have as much to worry about with Bradley by her side. And he's going to be so much less stressed with her at home. It's looking like next chapter could be the last one in this series!!!! I'm hoping to do some one-shots for them and then pick up with another series? Please let me know what you'd like to see during and after her pregnancy. And thank you for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 35
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venus-haze · 2 years
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If I Were You (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)
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Summary: Elvis takes up Priscilla’s offer to go to rehab for Lisa, and decides to take the steps to break from the Colonel personally and professionally. Elvis is referred to you, a Memphis-based therapist who specializes in helping patients work through codependent or otherwise unhealthy relationships. While he ultimately hopes his turning his life around will give him a better chance of reconciliation with Priscilla, the level of emotional intimacy you allow him in the context of your sessions makes him redirect his attention to you.
Note: This is based on an anonymous request. Reader is a cis woman, but no other descriptors are used. I appreciated having an excuse to rewatch some of my favorite Sopranos episodes because I got a lot of inspiration from seasons 1 and 5. It’s more dialogue heavy than my other fics because of the therapy sessions. I’m not a psychiatrist and nothing in this fic should be treated as legitimate advice regarding mental health, please refer to licensed professionals for that. Look at the warnings before deciding whether or not you want to read this fic because it’s extremely dark. Do not interact with my blog or my posts if you are under 18 or post ED/thinpso content.
Word count: 6.5k
Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and abuse of power, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. The therapy session scenes involve discussions of codependency in relation to parenting and relationships as well as self-blame, death, and drug and alcohol abuse. Explicit sexual content which involves force and coercion and brief daddy kink. Elvis’ mommy issues. Do not interact if you are under 18.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (all other parts by @crash-and-cure)
When you received a phone call from Dr. Wilson, one of your colleagues who worked at a rehabilitation facility in San Diego, asking if you were taking new patients, you hadn’t thought much of it when you answered that you were. He elaborated that while the patient was doing well in rehab, he thought he could benefit from continued therapy sessions, particularly because of your specialization and proximity to the patient’s home in Memphis. He informed you that he’d reveal more information about the patient and provide you with the clinical notes he’d taken throughout rehab once he received the patient’s agreement and approval to begin seeing you.
A few days later, you got the follow up call. The patient was interested in being treated by you and had given Dr. Wilson permission to send you copies of the clinical notes. He finally revealed who your Memphis-based patient would be—Elvis Presley. You nearly dropped the phone when he told you. Him going to rehab made sense, his drug and alcohol-fueled antics on stage frequently made entertainment headlines, but you certainly hadn’t expected that he’d need the specialized therapy that you offered. 
Elvis still had two weeks left in the rehabilitation program, and you’d receive the clinical notes before then to get an idea of what Dr. Wilson had already addressed with him. When you received the packet at your office’s mailbox, marked with a large ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamp on it, you almost hesitated. While aware of his career, you weren’t a huge fan of Elvis’, so that wouldn’t pose a conflict of interest, but you wondered if you could truly be impartial and fair toward a man whose existence permeated almost every aspect of American popular culture. 
From what Dr. Wilson had said, Elvis needed help, not as a rockstar but as a man. You were one of less than forty therapists in the country who specialized in helping patients break down codependent relationships. Your office wasn’t far from Graceland at all, ensuring Elvis wouldn’t have to go out of his way for regular therapy sessions. 
Finally opening the packet, you were faced with a manila file folder with Elvis’ full name and birthdate printed on the tab. You grabbed your notebook, preparing to write what was relevant for the sessions, but the more you read, it seemed like everything was relevant. A deceased overbearing mother whom Elvis revered as a saint, a manager who exploited his career for decades, and an ex-wife who was burdened with being the man’s stand-in mother and therapist from an alarmingly young age. 
You sat back in your chair, exhaling deeply to ground yourself. Taking on Elvis Presley as a client would not be easy, that much was obvious. Most of your clients didn’t have webs as intricately woven as he did, as much to unpack and consider as Elvis. Yet, from the notes, he wanted help. He wanted to change. He didn’t want his daughter Lisa to grow up without a father, but he also wanted a career and a life that he could finally be in control of, where he could be sure of who to trust. 
On a Friday afternoon, when you were in between appointments, your phone rang. You answered, resisting the urge to gasp when you heard who was on the other line, despite expecting his call.
“Hello, is Dr. Y/L/N there?” Elvis asked.
“Speaking,” you answered.
“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “Dr. Wilson didn’t mention you were a woman.”
“Is that a problem, Mr. Presley? Because I can refer you to another specialist—“
“No, that’s fine. I just thought you were a secretary or somethin’—no offense.”
“None taken,” you said. 
The two of you discussed what his goals for therapy were, and that he wanted to attend twice a week, which was how often he was seeing Dr. Wilson while he was in rehab. Many people were hesitant about therapy since it had an unwarranted stigma attached to it, but you supposed the group therapy and personal sessions in San Diego had proved its effectiveness to him. You agreed to schedule appointments for Monday and Thursday afternoons at 4:30pm and leave the service door to the building unlocked for him, so he could come in at the end of the work day and not have to worry about passersby and other patients seeing him there and causing unwanted attention. 
The conversation was short yet pleasant, but if you were being honest, you hadn’t been so nervous about taking on a patient since you first opened your own practice. You had tried to reason with yourself, that he was just a man seeking help like all of your other patients. None of your other patients, however, were Elvis Presley. You managed to calm yourself down the day of his first session, focusing on the other patients you had scheduled. 
He arrived fifteen minutes early the day of his first appointment, a non-issue as you had made sure the session before his was wrapped up by four, giving him a window of time to arrive while the office was empty. You took a deep breath before opening the door to the waiting room from your office, and found him staring at a painting on the wall. He turned to you, giving you one of the most dazzling smiles you’d ever seen in your life.
You greeted him with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here, Dr. Y/L/N,” he said, shaking your hand.
“Follow me, and take a seat anywhere you like,” you said, leading him into your office and closing the door behind you.
“Is this some kinda test? You can tell something ‘bout me by which one I pick?” he asked half-jokingly.
You laughed. “No, no, it’s just that we’re going to be sitting for an hour, so I want you to be comfortable.”
He sat in the armchair in front of the bookcase, rather than the one in front of your desk. You grabbed your notebook and sat down across from him. The two chairs were nearly identical anyway, so it didn’t make that big of a difference where either of you sat. Taking a moment to study him, you couldn’t help but acknowledge to yourself how good he looked. You always thought Elvis was a handsome man, but post-rehab, he seemed to be glowing in a way that seemed almost youthful. After allowing yourself to ogle your new patient, you cleared your throat.
“Now, before we begin our first session, I want to establish doctor-patient confidentiality and inform you of your rights as a patient. Is that okay?” you asked. 
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
“Wonderful. I take doctor-patient confidentiality seriously. Anything you say in this room will stay in this room. However, if at any point during our sessions you indicate that you intend to seriously harm yourself or others, I would have to go to the police.”
“Seriously harm?”
“Any intentional action that would result in the hospitalization or death of yourself or another individual,” you elaborated, and he gave you a silent nod to continue. “I may encourage you to dig deeper into your psychological and emotional state, you don’t have to answer any questions that you don’t want to, but keep in mind that I’m trying to guide the conversation in a direction that will help you achieve the breakthroughs you want.”
“You know, my mama used to call you psychologists ‘headshrinkers’. Hell, I even do sometimes,” he said with a laugh.
You smiled at the comment, it certainly wasn’t uncommon for people to be skeptical of mental healthcare, but since he’d already brought up his mother, you didn’t want to lose that momentum.
“I completely understand. When I told my parents I was getting my doctorate in psychology, I might as well have told them that I was going to clown school,” you said. “Some people turn to religion for their psychological guidance. My parents are like that. Were yours?”
“Oh yeah, mama was always quotin’ scripture.”
“And your father?”
“He went to church with us sometimes, but it was usually me and mama. I stopped goin’ to church once my career started takin’ off. Didn’t have the time to, but I still love those old gospel hymns.”
You nodded, taking quick notes as he spoke.
“You writin’ that I’m some religious nut in there?”
“No, just general observations, things you’ve mentioned that have appeared while treating other patients. The more I treat people who’ve struggled with codependency, the more I can help others by recognizing patterns of behavior,” you explained. “I read from your file, which thank you for letting me look at by the way, that you experienced this codependent abuse from your former manager, Tom Parker.”
He exhaled, and you made note of his utilizing the coping method to calm himself down. 
“The Colonel thought he was entitled to half of everything I made, even though I was the one workin’ myself sick. He had that hack doctor put all kinds of junk in me to keep me movin’ like some walkin’ dead man. That cost me my family and half of everything I ever earned. I’m suin’ the son of a bitch, but I can’t let this happen again.”
“Elvis, I’m sorry that happened to you. You were taken advantage of by someone you trusted. You have every right to be upset and angry. I encourage you to express those emotions while we're here,” you said. “I want to challenge you to stop referring to your former manager as ‘The Colonel’. I think that language is detrimental to your progress as it sets him in a place of authority over you, when in reality, he isn’t and never was.”
He scoffed. “What should I call him then? ‘That piece of shit’?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “If you’d like, yes.”
For the rest of the hour, he spoke about his former manager, and while you had an idea of what went on from the notes your colleague had given you, the extent was just as bad as you’d expected. As a doctor, you were particularly horrified by the so-called ‘Dr. Nick’ who exacerbated Elvis’ addiction to prescription medications in the name of the almighty dollar. Elvis peppered in mentions of his mother throughout the session as well, and you made a note to dig into that in the future. You weren’t the biggest proponent of Freud, but you knew many people went through life subconsciously mirroring the behavior of their parents unless they made a conscious decision not to. 
At the end of the session, you let Elvis know that you admired the progress he’d made so far, both in rehab and his first session with you. He smiled at that, and confessed that even though he wasn’t sure about seeing a woman therapist, as soon as he saw you, he knew there was something different about you, and he already felt comfortable around you. You stayed in your office late to work on the notes for his file while they were still fresh in your mind, and left around a quarter to seven. 
The Monday and Thursday sessions continued consistently for the next few weeks, and you were thrilled with how much progress Elvis had made, both in therapy and in his personal life. He was more involved in Lisa Marie’s life and had her over at Graceland regularly, making sure his days were completely clear whenever she was over so he could focus on spending time with her. His sleep pattern had become more regular, with some bouts of understandable insomnia. You and Dr. Wilson had already agreed that with Elvis’ history of addiction, holistic approaches to any psychological conditions would be best, and prescriptions would only be given as an absolute last resort. When he told you that he felt better than he had in years, physically and emotionally, you considered it a huge success, and encouraged him to acknowledge and celebrate that. 
Understandably, most of your sessions with Elvis were spent discussing his former manager and the influence and control that he had on Elvis’ career and personal life, particularly the strain it caused on his mother. That was a sensitive issue for him, and he tended to deflect when you tried to bring her up or discuss his relationship with her further. About four months into your treating him, however, he mentioned feeling some resentment toward his father for mismanaging Elvis’ finances, making an off-handed comment about how it wouldn’t have happened if his mother were still alive. You saw this as the opportunity to get him to finally elaborate.
“Your mother was the dominating figure in the family unit, then?” you pressed.
“Mama was a good woman, the best woman. She put food on the table when daddy was in jail. She believed in me before anyone else did.”
“I never said your mother wasn’t a good woman,” you observed. “Why did you jump to that conclusion, that I was attacking her?”
The room was silent for a few moments as he considered your question. “Everyone else did. You know, she was right about not trustin’ the Col–Parker. It’s like when I signed that contract with him I was signin’ her death sentence.”
“Do you blame yourself for her death?”
“I know it was the alcohol. I learned that much in rehab, but in her heart, it was me. She died while I was in basic training, doctor.”
“I’m glad you’re talking through this. It’s going to help with our future sessions, but I want to establish that you’re not responsible for your mother's death anymore than you’re responsible for her other actions throughout her life.”
He shook his head. “Me leavin’, that killed her.”
“Why would your leaving kill her? As I understand, you were drafted. You didn’t have a choice.”
“Because I was supposed to take care of her. My daddy wouldn't, so I did.”
“Do you think it’s right for a child to take care of their parents?” you asked.
“It’s not about what was right,” he argued. “I had to do it.”
“How old were you, when you first stepped into this pseudo-parental role?”
“What?”
“How old were you when you began taking up the household responsibilities that belonged to your father?”
“I was real young, when he went to jail and we had to move. I had a good childhood, though. We didn’t have much, but I had friends and I went to church, did alright in school.”
The hour was almost up, but you knew you were close to reaching a pivotal point in his treatment. As soon as you got him to consider that his codependency issues started with his mother, you could work through his relationships with Tom Parker and even Priscilla, but it’d be easier said than done to drag his mother off of the pedestal he put her on. She’d been dead for over a decade, and yet she still had a spectral stranglehold on her son.
Your intention wasn’t for him to walk out of your office hating his mother, but to recognize the unhealthy behaviors he emulated and to work through the grief he clearly never fully dealt with. 
You figured you had time to ask him one more question, and chanced it with, “What do you miss most about your mother?”
“I could tell her anything, and she’d always have something to say. Maybe not what I wanted to hear, but she always meant what she said. I trusted her like no one else. I don’t know if I ever will.”
“It’s hard for you to trust people, with the position that you’re in and how people have taken advantage of you in the past. That can be lonely, and some people engage in self-destructive behavior in an attempt to get the care and attention they yearn for. I believe that you will be able to trust again. Just something to think about as the session ends today,” you said. “You’ve made a lot of progress, and I want to acknowledge that.”
He smiled. “Thank you. You really know your stuff, but I guess that’s what you went to school for.”
“I appreciate that,” you acknowledged. “I hope you have a great rest of your day, Elvis, and I’ll see you at our appointment next week.”
After Elvis left, you worked on your notes from the session to add to his file. You weren’t just paying him lip service before, he had made a good amount of progress, and even despite some of his hesitations, worked through some aspects of the treatment that you expected to be more challenging for him. 
The next few sessions, you pressed him more about his mother, and while he pushed back against your insinuating that some of his codependent tendencies originated with her, he did acknowledge that the pressure of not upsetting her did cost him his participation in his high school’s football team, which he loved for the brief amount of time he spent playing. She had been worried about him getting hurt, a pattern you noticed as Elvis spoke to you about his childhood.
You weren’t expecting to find that the root of her anxiety over Elvis’ well-being came from losing his twin, Jesse at birth. Elvis was born into the world having to be two men instead of one, and when his father fell through as the family’s provider, he had to pick up the slack for three. It was a lot for someone to handle even without the challenges of fame. The more you worked with Elvis, the more convinced you became that he could have benefitted from therapy a decade sooner.
In all honesty, you were glad Elvis’ appointments were at the end of the day, because they began to become almost as draining for you as you figured they were for him. Still, he never missed an appointment and always arrived early. The work you did was always difficult, and you couldn’t help but empathize with your patients, but Elvis seemed to take everything out of you.
One weekend, you had plans to get dinner with Mark, a man around your age who you’d met in grad school and had an on-and-off again relationship for a while, before deciding to stay friends. Out of habit you both referred to whenever you’d get together as ‘dates’, and the one you planned was at a higher end restaurant in Memphis. The two of you had been so busy with work that when he called you to catch up, you hadn’t realized it’d been months since you’d seen him. The restaurant was the type of place where you had to make reservations in advance, and so with this in mind, he made one a few weeks prior.
When you and Mark arrived at the restaurant, there was a crowd of loud and restless people overflowing into the street. The two of you pushed your way through to get inside and waited to speak to the host, who informed you that due to unforeseen circumstances, there’d be a thirty minute wait for your table despite your reservation. 
The two of you considered leaving and going to a different restaurant, but decided against it, since you had the reservation anyway. To your relief, the wait only ended up being less than five minutes, even though you could tell by the reservation list on the host’s podium that several couples were still ahead of you and Mark. 
A waiter led you to your table, and after taking your dinner orders, Mark excused himself to go to the restroom. While waiting for him to return, you could hear people gasp and murmur behind you, until a familiar shadow fell over your table.
“Dr. Y/L/N, funny meeting you here,” Elvis said.
You raised your eyebrows, not expecting to see your high-profile patient of all people in the restaurant. “Mr. Presley, how are you?”
“I’m doin’ just fine.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”
“Are you here alone?”
“No, my date is just in the restroom.”
His expression shifted, but he nodded agreeably. “Well, have a good night.”
“You too,” you whispered as he walked away. 
Fuck. He was upset you were there with someone. It wasn’t uncommon for your patients to temporarily redirect their codependent tendencies onto you, considering the level of emotional intimacy that was involved with the therapy. It’d only once escalated to a level where you felt obligated to refer the patient to another therapist, but you hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Elvis. He’d been making great progress with each session.
When Mark had returned to the table, you gave him a strained smile but continued on with the date as usual. About halfway into your meal, the waiter approached with a bottle of wine neither of you had ordered. 
Before you could question anything, the waiter said, “Compliments of Mr. Presley.”
“As in Elvis Presley?” Mark asked.
The waiter nodded and set the bottle on the table. You weakly told him to thank Elvis, and he left to do so. As soon as he was out of earshot, Mark leaned in, “Is Elvis Presley your patient?”
“I won’t answer that, Mark.”
“Holy shit,” he said, opening the bottle of wine. 
You didn’t recognize the label from the wine rack at the supermarket and figured it was some expensive brand that was either old or imported, or both. As Mark poured himself a glass, you contemplated whether or not to drink it. Refusing so would confirm that Elvis was your patient, but drinking it would mean you accepted a gift from a patient, both situations required you violating your own code of ethics. Sighing, you let Mark fill your own glass with the wine.
The rest of the night with Mark was fun as you caught up on your personal lives, and Elvis didn’t make a reappearance at all. When Mark walked you back to your car, the two of you promised not to go as long without seeing each other again, and parted with a quick kiss.
You spent Sunday lazily reading in the comfort of your apartment, adjusting the radio in your living room to different stations every so often. All of them seemed to play at least one of Elvis’ songs at some point, and you wondered if you were only noticing the frequency he was on the radio now that he was your patient. Some artists were just radio mainstays, and he was one of them.
On Monday, you knew you’d have to address the situation with the wine to Elvis, but to your surprise, he beat you to it.
“So, how was the wine?” Elvis asked.
“It was kind of you to go out of your way to have something so nice brought to my table, but I can’t accept gifts from patients,” you said. “I hope you understand.”
He narrowed his eyes, leaning over so his elbows were resting on his knees as he asked, “That guy you were out with, he your husband?”
“No, just a friend.”
“You married?”
“No, but–”
“You ever been married?”
“No,” you repeated, “but while we’re on the subject, let’s discuss your marriage and Priscilla.” 
You noticed him hesitate to answer. “Is that okay?”
“Sure,” he said.
“How did you meet Priscilla?”
“Her daddy and me were both stationed in Germany at the same time. I met her when she came to a party at my house one night.”
“What attracted you to her?”
“She wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met in my life. She was beautiful and sweet. I just knew there was somethin’ different about her,” he said, quickly adding. “I was respectful, ya know. She put up with a lot from me, but she was there when I needed someone.”
“You mentioned in a previous session that your mother died while you were in basic training, and after the funeral you were sent to Germany, where you met Priscilla. Do you think you incorporated her into your grieving process?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
You kept pressing him for more details, knowing it wasn’t a coincidence that he happened to meet the woman he’d go on to marry after such a devastating loss. The more he elaborated on his relationship, the more you came to understand the codependent nature of it as well. Priscilla became a stand-in for his mother despite her youth, and he began to depend on her the same way. You found it particularly interesting that he encouraged her to dye her hair and gave her the same nickname he had given his mother. 
“I understand you and your ex-wife are still close, and she’s part of the reason you’re here. Can I ask you, when you and Priscilla divorced, what you were feeling?” you asked.
“I–I’m sorry, can we talk about something else?”
You nodded, making a note to revisit that later. For the rest of that session and Thursday’s session, the two of you spoke mundanely about how his day to day life was going, the strides he was making to live a more sustainable lifestyle. He informed you that he wanted to make music and perform again, but wouldn’t tour while his lawsuit with Tom Parker was ongoing. Even then, he planned to take it slow, scheduling dates more spaced out to give himself time to rest. He did mention trying to work something out with his team to do one-off performances in the Memphis area in the meantime, to figure out how this new era of his career would go. 
The following afternoon, when you usually had an hour or so break between sessions to have lunch, you were interrupted by repeated knocking at your office door. You opened it to find a gift basket on the ground, looking back and forth in the hallway to see if the person who left it was still there, you picked it up and brought it over to your desk. The basket was filled with an assortment of goods that you knew must have been expensive from the brand names that you actually did recognize, and all of the gifts were perfectly suited to your taste. For a moment, you thought it was Mark’s doing, but when you read the attached card, you sighed. 
Early on in your career, you had made it a rule to not accept gifts or favors from patients. It helped establish to your patients that you were their doctor, not their friend, as much as you did care for them. You took your ethical responsibility as a therapist seriously, and so you contacted the company where the gift basket had come from, informing them that you’d like them to pick it up and inform the sender that you couldn’t accept it. You’d been expecting the phone call you received about an hour later.
“I tried to get what I thought you’d like,” Elvis said. “Guess I don’t know you as well as I thought.”
“Mr. Presley, I told you in our last session that I don’t accept gifts from patients. I appreciate the gesture, it was extremely thoughtful, but it violates my personal ethics.”
“You drank the wine I sent over to your table,” he argued.
You pursed your lips. You knew letting Mark accept it was a mistake. “That was a completely different scenario. If I had publicly refused, it would have confirmed to my date that you were my patient. I made the decision to respect your privacy.”
From the way he huffed over the phone, he was frustrated. He always did so in sessions when you pressed him to dig deeper into the aspects of the major relationships in his life that he didn’t want to confront. “I understand, doctor. I just wanted to show my appreciation for you, is all. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Have a good night, Mr. Presley. See you on Monday,” you said.
The next few months went on without incident, and you were pleased with the progress you were making with Elvis. He was willing to open up to you much more, and you found yourself revealing some information about yourself to him as well. Sometimes, it unnerved you how he seemed to remember things you had mentioned in passing weeks or even months before, as if he were taking his own notes on you. 
Once in a while, you’d run into him while you were running errands and minding your business in Memphis, having quick and cordial conversations before going your separate ways. Part of you suspected it was deliberate, as a man as famous as him knew he couldn’t step foot anywhere outside of his home without making the news.
On a Friday evening, as you led your last client of the day out of your office, a man you didn’t recognize was standing in the waiting room, looking around at the decor in your office. When you walked out, he looked at you as if he’d seen a ghost. 
Before you could speak, he said, “You look really familiar.”
“I don’t know how that could be. I don’t believe we’ve met before,” you said. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N.”
He hesitated before answering. “I must be seeing things, then. I’m Jerry.”
“Nice to meet you, Jerry. May I ask what brings you to my office?”
“Elvis sent me. He’s doing his first show in over a year next weekend, and he wanted me to bring you this VIP pass. Soundcheck, front row seat, backstage access, the works,” he said, holding out the small plastic card to you. “It’s in town, so he’ll send a car for you.”
You shook your head, feeling like a broken record when you declined. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t accept gifts from patients. Please send my regards and tell him thank you anyway.”
Jerry nodded. “Alright, nice to meet you, Doc.”
As soon as he left, you collapsed onto the couch. You were making great progress with Elvis, serious progress, but it was clear that he was shifting his codependent tendencies onto you. As much as you didn’t want to, you had to consider referring him to another therapist. It’d be a hassle for him, as the closest therapist with the same specialization as you was located in Nashville. It wasn’t uncommon for your patients to exhibit similar behavior toward you, especially early on in their treatment, but you’d been working with Elvis for nearing a year. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, as his case was far more complex than any of your other clients, past or present. 
While you were in the supermarket checkout later that evening, you glanced at the tabloid magazines that were displayed next to you, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw the cover of most of them–various photos of Elvis, out and about in Memphis with different women who all looked almost exactly like you. Suddenly, you felt as though everyone in the store was staring at you, and you abandoned your cart, rushing out of the store and to your car where you had your first panic attack in years. 
As you cried into the steering wheel, attempting to catch your breath, your mind raced at the implications of what you just saw. The women were stand-ins for you, but they weren’t enough for him, they never would be. You knew that if you continued to spurn his advances, they’d only become more elaborate and unavoidable, and by giving him some of the attention he desired, you’d only be encouraging his unhealthy behavior. Your next session with Elvis was that upcoming Monday, and you’d make sure to let him know about your colleague in Nashville and cut all ties with the rockstar. 
By the time Monday morning rolled around, you wanted to cancel all of your other appointments for the day, but your other patients didn’t deserve to have their treatment interrupted because of one patient. The day flew by, to your dismay, and 4:30 arrived far sooner than you were ready when he walked through the door and into your office. He sat down in his usual seat, and you resisted the urge to glare at him. You didn’t appreciate being manipulated for personal gain, and you figured he of all people would have understood that. 
“Mr. Presley,” you began sternly. “I have repeatedly tried to enforce the professional nature of our relationship as doctor and patient, and yet you insist on sabotaging the massive strides you’ve made in your treatment by repeatedly making attempts to violate that. I think that continuing to see me as a therapist would be detrimental to your recovery, so I’m referring you to a colleague of mine with a similar specialization. After this session, I will no longer be your therapist.”
He stared at you incredulously before becoming stone-faced. “Well, since you won’t be my therapist anymore, I guess you can accept all those gifts now.”
Your mouth nearly fell open at his boldness. “Mr. Presley, you’re missing the point entirely.”
“No, I think I get the point loud and clear, Y/N.”
Your chest contracted as his use of your first name. “Mr. Presley, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Now.” 
He stood up from his chair, and instead of walking out the door, crossed the few feet of space between you and caged you into your chair. He stared down at you intensely, silently, for what felt like hours. Too frightened to move, you held his gaze until he cupped your chin in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. 
“You’re doin’ this for us, mama,” he whispered, “so we can be together.”
“I’m doing this for my own safety.”
“I knew you felt the same way about me, how much you wanted me too.”
“Elvis, please, let’s just sit back and discuss this. I won’t refer you to another therapist,” you lied, trying to appeal to whatever sense of rationality he may have had.
His other hand drifted to your thigh, inching its way up your skirt. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, you pushed him off of you and hoped that it would disorient him enough for you to run out the door. Instead, he beat you to it, pressing you against the wooden door that stood between your freedom and captivity.
“C’mon, mama, we’ve had this date since the beginning,” he purred in your ear. 
Perhaps you had been too preoccupied with having Elvis Presley as a professional success story than acknowledging the delusional and obsessive tendencies he displayed. Where did you go wrong? You tried to think back through a year’s worth of therapy sessions to figure out when exactly you’d given Elvis the impression that you were interested in him romantically or sexually, but were torn from your thoughts when he kissed you aggressively. He must have mistaken your attempts at protests for moans, because he only deepened the kiss, biting your bottom lip so you’d gasp in pain, giving his tongue access to your mouth.
You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself and tried once again to push away, but he was too strong–and determined as he backed you into your desk, the impact from both of your bodies bumping against it sending some of the items to the floor. 
“Elvis, you don’t have to do this,” you pleaded. Why were you still coddling him? 
“You want this, mama,” he groaned, grinding his clothed erection against your exposed leg like a dog in heat. “I know you do.”
He didn’t give you an opportunity to argue, bringing his lips to yours again and hastily unbuttoning your blouse. He rid you of your bra just as quickly, and took one of your breasts in his mouth. Guiding one of your hands to his crotch, he rubbed your hand against it, and you let out an involuntary whimper as his moans vibrated against your sensitive nipple. 
Thrusting against your hand, he pulled away from your breast, muttering something about cumming in his pants if he didn’t do anything about it soon. He shed his shirt, throwing it aside. The reality of the situation hit you as he lifted you back on top of the desk and pulled down your panties. He dragged his ring finger up your slit, and you shivered at the sensation of the cold metal of his rings against it. Apparently satisfied with how wet you were, he wasted no time unzipping his pants and ridding himself of them to reveal he hadn’t been wearing any underwear. You stared wide-eyed at his cock, as he stroked it before positioning it at your weeping cunt.
“Just take it, mama. Be real good for me and take it like I know you can,” he cooed in an attempt to placate you as he slid himself into you. 
You choked on air at the sensation, not expecting how big he’d be, and tears began to run down your face. He kissed them away as he thrust into you, whispering about how good you were being, how perfect you were. Two of his fingers played with your clit, and your felt your vision go hazy at the pleasure that was building up in your core. You’d never felt that good in your life. Maybe you did want it after all.
“Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, nearly throwing your hands over your mouth at the realization of what you had said. 
That seemed to stir something in him, because his thrusts became harsher and more erratic while you berated yourself for actually enjoying it. The moans that came from your throat sounded almost foreign to you. 
“You got no idea how often I thought about this, mama,” he managed to groan. “Come for daddy.”
With a grotesque cry, you came, feeling yourself clench around him as he kept up his ruthless pace. His own orgasm followed soon after yours, and as you felt him cum inside you, you weren’t sure whether you hated him or yourself more. What felt like hours passed before he finally pulled out from you, leaving your inner thighs wet with cum and lightly bruised.
You looked at him through your tears, knowing your mascara was surely tracked down your face. He reached for you, and you flinched back, nearly falling off of your desk until he steadied you, and you broke down into humiliating sobs into his shoulder, your nails purposely digging into his skin. You wanted to hurt him, somehow, make him feel how you felt. Instead, he seemed unfazed, releasing you from his grip when your crying had settled down to hold your face in his hands. 
He looked into your eyes with all of the delusional affection you’d feared and whispered, “You’re my girl, my bestest girl.”
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callsign-mayhem · 10 months
Text
southern state of mind
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 2.7k
You and Jake are best friends, bonded by your hometown and love for line dancing. You take Bradley and Natasha into the city to a country and western bar and teach them to dance, and hopefully to make your move. 
Y/CS - your call sign 
Use of Y/N but no description of reader
A/N: I wrote this with the bar scene from Footloose (2011) in mind. Listen to ‘Fake ID’ by Big & Rich and Gretchen Wilson when you read the final scene.
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The music was turned up deafeningly loud and your foot was against the floor and, in your opinion, it was the best way to drive anywhere. Nothing said summer like speeding down the highway at sunset with the roof of the Jeep off and the wind in your hair, and it was even better with company. Taking the top off your car was a somewhat tedious job and you’d enlisted Bradley and Jake’s help earlier that afternoon especially for your little road trip into the city. It had been well worth it as the vibes, to put it simply, were immaculate.
Obviously Jake had called shotgun before you’d even left your apartment but you didn’t really mind; he was one of the very few people who was allowed to have the aux cord in your car. Music had been one of the first things you’d bonded over. That and the fact that you were both from Austin.
Natasha and Bradley were sitting in the back sipping gin and tonic from a can, quite happy watching the world pass them by while you and Jake belted the lyrics to a Jason Aldean song. It had taken a long time for you to get to this point with Jake and you knew most of the squad still weren’t completely sold on him, but you were hoping tonight might help change that. You wanted them to see the side of him he seemed to save especially for you, hence why you were heading into the city to a country and western bar you’d found online. It was one of the rare weekends you were all free and after a lot of convincing, Bradley and Natasha had agreed to go with you.
You locked eyes with Bradley in the rearview mirror. He had his aviators perched precariously on the edge of his nose and when you stuck your tongue out at him, he winked at you. It was damn lucky you didn’t crash the fucking car.
You glanced away in embarrassment and continued your duet with Jake, desperately hoping that he hadn’t noticed the blush dusting the apples of your cheeks. Originally it was just going to be you and Hangman - a friend date if you will - but then he’d had the brainwave of inviting Bradley as a way of finding out if he reciprocated the feelings you had for him. Telling Jake about your crush was probably the worst decision you’d ever had the misfortune of making because he’d been coming up with creative ways to try and get you together ever since. There’d been a few times where you’d almost considered outing yourself just so Jake couldn’t. You agreed to his plan this time, hoping it would be the last time you ever had to, but you insisted on inviting Natasha too. For one, she was more fun on a night out than both the guys put together, but also because you couldn’t imagine spending time with just Jake and Bradley alone. It would be one big dick-swinging contest.
The sun was low in the sky, glinting off all the skyscrapers that made up the gorgeous San Diego skyline. Jake reached into the glove compartment and pulled out your own pair of aviators and you took them gratefully, trying to put them on one-handed. Instead of watching you struggle he snatched them back off you and put them on you himself, poking the tip of your nose once he was done. If you’d chanced a look in the rearview mirror at that moment you would have seen Bradley watching this exchange, eyes hidden behind his glasses again. The only thing that gave his annoyance away was the stubborn set of his jaw, but that was Bradley Bradshaw all over. For the most part, he kept his feelings bottled up until he couldn’t anymore, and then he’d explode when he least expected it.
You didn’t know it, but Bradley had been spending a lot of nights laying awake wondering if he should tell you how much he liked you, weighing out the pros and cons in his cluttered mind. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t hiding it from you because he was scared of rejection. In fact, the only reason he kept stopping himself from grabbing you and kissing you senseless was because of Hangman. The two of you weren’t officially dating (as far as anyone knew) but the way you interacted was more than suspicious. Guys and girls could be friends, he wasn’t that naive, but the way Jake looked at you made him wonder if he wanted it to be more than that.
As for the way you looked at Jake, Bradley wouldn’t know much about that. He didn’t like watching you too closely when the two of you were together, just in case your smile or your eyes gave you away and confirmed his worst fear.
When you finally arrived at the bar you made sure to park as close to the entrance as possible in case your friends decided to get absolutely shit-faced. Agreeing to be the designated driver had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time - you’d be hangover free in the morning and able to enjoy your Sunday outdoors instead of in bed with a huge headache - but now, as Bradley slung his arm around your shoulder lazily and pulled you into his side, you were kind of wishing you’d let him drive. Ever the gentleman, he’d offered to bring the Bronco so you could have a drink, but since it was your idea and you were going to be subjecting him to country music and line dancing all night, it only seemed fair that he be able to have a few beers.
Now you somehow needed to get through tonight without any Dutch courage.
The bar was packed wall to wall with people in denim shorts, flannel shirts, cowboy boots and hats. Being from Texas yourself, you could tell who was just trying to fit the aesthetic and who actually dressed like that on the daily. Natasha and Bradley’s mouths were hanging open as they surveyed the scene in front of them. You’d given Nat one of your gambler hats to wear for the night and it suited her well, but you hadn’t been able to convince Bradley to wear one.
‘Bet you’re regretting turning down my offer now, huh Bradshaw,’ you poked him in the side and he flinched, laughing raucously, ‘Feeling like the odd one out?’
Jake moved the toothpick he was chewing from one side of his mouth to the other and adjusted his own hat, ‘He made the right call. There’s no way he’d be able to pull it off.’
Bradley swiped the hat from your head and put it on, adjusting it so it sat right on his head. Jake scoffed but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t really trying to insult Bradley, but he flipped him the bird anyway. You stopped in your tracks to get a better look at him. He was wearing a blue flannel over a white tank, 501s and a pair of brown cowboy boots, and the hat was the icing on top of an incredibly delicious looking cake. The hat suited him better than it did you.
‘You’re such an asshole,’ you told him, nudging him in the ribs. He laughed again and shoved you playfully, ‘Can you stop fucking bullying me, Y/N. First you tell me I’m the odd one out, and now you’re calling me an asshole for trying to fit in.’ ‘You’re an asshole because that hat looks better on you than it does on me, and I’ve been wearing it since I was fifteen years old.’ Natasha and Jake shared a knowing look, ‘We’re gonna go get some drinks.’
One of your favourite Dustin Lynch songs was playing and to prevent things from getting awkward after what you’d just said (idiot, idiot, idiot) you took Bradley by the hand and led him out to the middle of the dancefloor. Perhaps ‘dancefloor’ wasn’t the right word since there were people dancing in every spare space in the bar. There wasn’t really anybody sitting at the hightop tables, they were just being used for bags, coats, and half empty glasses, and you were sure it was the same on the second floor. Although it didn’t feel like it, the place was huge and you were kicking yourself for not coming here sooner. Maybe it was a little cringe and slightly over the top (not every bar in Texas was like this) but it felt like you’d come home.
Bradley nearly tripped over your feet a couple times as you dragged him through the swarm of dancing people.
‘I can’t dance,’ he shouted. You spun around, still holding tightly onto his hand, ‘But you sing so well!’ ‘And?’ ‘Usually they go hand in hand.’ He cocked his head like you’d missed the point entirely, ‘You can dance?’ You flashed him your prettiest smile, ‘Obviously.’ ‘Then your logic is flawed,’ the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smirk, ‘because you can’t sing for shit, darlin’.’ God, you wanted to kiss that look right off his face, ‘So you want me to teach you to dance, or what?’ ‘How do I know that what you got to teach is worth learning?’
Jake and Natasha appeared behind you with four bottles of beer. You accepted gratefully - because one wouldn’t hurt - and downed half of it in one long sip. Bradley didn’t take his eyes off you as you handed him your bottle and grabbed Jake’s hand.
‘I’ll show you.’
Bradley and Nat went and stood at one of the high tables, more than happy to watch you and Jake do your thing if it meant they got out of dancing for a little while longer. They were leaning casually, sipping their drinks with the air of two people that weren’t expecting much.
You leaned over and whispered to Jake: ‘Let’s show them how we do things back home.’
The song faded out, transitioning smoothly into another one. It was upbeat - perfect for line dancing - and you knew it well. Jake knew it too he was grinning from ear to ear as everyone moved into position, ready to dance.
It was now or never.
Admittedly, it had been a while since you’d danced like this and you were worried you’d be rusty, but when the song kicked in and you got going it was like you’d never taken a day off. There was something almost sacred about dancing in formation with this many people and the sound of hundreds of pairs of cowboy boots stomping against the floorboards sent shivers down your spine. You hooked your fingers through the loops of your Levi shorts as you dragged one foot across the floor and pulled forward, swaying your hips all the way around in time with the music. When the song reached its bridge, everyone broke off into pairs and you and Jake took the opportunity to really show Nat and Bradley what you could do. You could hear Phoenix cheering for the two of you as you scooted and rambled, completely enthralled in the music.
You spent your days flying fighter jets, but this was the most alive you’d felt in a long time. Your heart was racing against your chest and you could feel a stitch developing in your side, but you honestly couldn’t care less and if you went into cardiac arrest right now, you wouldn’t be mad about it.
When the song was over you headed back over to your friends who were clapping for you, stunned expressions on their faces. Bradley handed you your beer and after catching your breath for a beat or two, you took a sip, your eyes never once leaving his.
‘So, you want what I got to teach or not?’ He shook his head in awe, ‘You’re really somethin’, you know that?’ ‘Oh, I know.’
You headed back out there with Bradley on your arm and Jake and Natasha in tow. Luckily they were fast learners so it only took an hour to teach them the basics and get them dancing relatively confidently. You were taking mental pictures of Bradley dancing the two-step in that damned hat so you could remember them later. He’d told you he couldn’t dance but you were beginning to think he’d just never tried because the way he moved was so enchanting, you had to keep reminding yourself not to trip over your own feet.
‘Shall we put your new dancing feet to the test?’ you said to him.
When ‘Fake ID’ came on you and Jake forced Bradley and Nat out to the very middle of the floor. It was your turn to cheer for them as the song started to pick up and everyone fell into line, boosting their confidence just enough for them to get into it. It didn’t take much and before long, the four of you were in perfect rhythm as you side-stepped and clapped, turned and cross shuffled. You’d never seen Bradley smile like that before and you desperately wanted to take a photo, but you didn’t dare stop dancing.
Why couldn’t you do this every night?
In the middle of the song, everyone broke off into pairs again and somehow you ended up with Jake. This clearly wasn’t part of the master plan to get you together.
‘You need to go get your man, Y/CS. I ain’t going home until you do.’
As nervous as you were to make your move, you knew he wasn’t kidding. You tapped Nat’s shoulder and leaned in to tell her that Jake wanted to dance with her. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what you were planning to do, and as she passed you mouthed ‘good luck.’
‘What’re you doing dancing with another woman when you’re wearing my hat,’ you teased, ‘That is so disrespectful.’ He raised a brow, ‘Well I wanted to be dancing with you, but you already chose Hangman as your partner,’ he challenged.
His tone was light but there was a question hidden somewhere in that statement; he wanted to know if you liked Jake.
‘I just didn’t know if you could keep up with me.’
In response to you challenging him, he started dancing again, reaching up to take off your hat and put it back where it belonged. You took his lead and started dancing in front of him and he reached out and put both hands on your hips as you swayed them, stepping forward until he was pressed right up against your back. You didn’t think you’d be able to carry on dancing if you got any closer, but then he did the unimaginable and looped his fingers through your belt loops and pulled you back so were flush against him. Black dots filled your vision when you felt his semi through his blue jeans and you couldn’t help but move a little more, shaking your hips and making him even harder.
He wasn’t expecting it, just like he wasn’t expecting you to spin around and wrap your arms around his neck. He was like a deer trapped in headlights as you pulled him down to your lips and finally kissed that shit-eating grin off his face, but when he eventually got over his initial shock, he kissed you back with such ferocity that you had to stop dancing. Nothing could have prepared you for the taste of Bradley Bradshaw, the scent of his aftershave mingling with sweat. If not for the room full of people you would have let him take you right there and then.
‘I think I’m gonna take you dancing more often, Rooster,’ you said against his lips, ‘you really know how to move.’ He kissed you again, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth and drawing a mewl from you. It was lucky nobody could hear the two of you over the music.
‘When we get back later, I’ll show you just how well I can move,’ he promised, ‘but I don’t think you’ll be able to dance for a while afterwards.’
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ijustreallylovethem · 8 months
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atta girl
this didn't end up as long as i thought it was going to be but i'm still proud of it :)
ex!trevor zegras x reader
words: 1,399
masterlist
you scrunched your nose as the sound of your phone going off woke you from your sleep. you rolled over in your spot, opening your eyes and reaching out for the device, only to find that you were on the complete opposite side of the bed from where you normally slept. you had been doing that the past few days, finding yourself taking up the whole bed now that it was free. you were used to having one side taken up, and on the occasion that it wasn't for a night, you would still tend to keep to your own side. the habit stayed for about a week until your subconcious must have noticed that you were able to move as much as you wanted now.
mom
how are we doing today?
you couldn't help but sigh at the text when you read it. you knew your mom meant well, but the daily check ins that she had been doing since you told her about the break up were not your favorite. you didn't open it, opting instead to get up and get ready for the day before answering. you stood from the bed, stretching your back out and then making your way into the small kitchen of your apartment. you glanced around, trying to remember which cabinet you had put the cups in when you moved in two days ago. you opted to open both cabinets on either side of the sink, finding them in the right one. you grabbed one and filled it with water, taking a few drinks and then setting it on the counter to come back to later. by the time you got dressed and settled yourself on the couch to watch some more of the show you had started, you texted your mom back.
y/n
just ready for work to start tomorrow
in all honesty, you were excited to start your new job. you had just graduated from southern california institute of technology with a degree in cybersecurity so you had been applying to jobs left and right. somehow, you got an amazing offer from a company in san diego, the only offer you managed to get actually. you were surprised, considering you had applied only on a whim, considering the location as well as the company. it was too good to turn down, even though you would have to move four hours from the city you've always called home. however, you figured you could get your foot in the door in the industry, and then try to find something a little closer and move back. your parents agreed, telling you that you would be an idiot not to take the job, and they would help you find a new place and move if they needed to. your boyfriend, however, didn't seem to be on the same page.
"so, i have news," you told him with a smile, walking into his room. he had invited you to come back home with him for the summer, not wanting to be apart from you for so long. since you were still looking for a job and didn't have any classes now that you had graduated, you agreed. he raised a brow, urging you to continue. "i got a job offer." a huge smile grew on his face and he stood to pull you into a hug.
"i knew you would! you're literally so smart, i don't know how it took so long." he pulled away just enough to pull you into a kiss. when he pulled away, you looked up at him with concern.
"it starts in two weeks." he nods, pulling away and going back to whatever he was doing on his phone.
"that's fine. we can get flights back whenever we need to."
"actually, um," your fingers twisted together, nervous for what you were about to tell him. he picked up on it, as he always did, and looked back up at you.
"what's wrong?"
"we'd need to get flights for as soon as possible. i need to get back so i can find a new apartment and start moving my stuff." his brows furrow but then he smiles, letting out a small laugh.
"what, you don't want to live with your parents now that you have a big girl job?"
"well my parents don't live in san diego." you watched as a mix of emotions crosses his face, and he takes a second to decide which one he wants to focus on.
"san diego?" you nod. "you took a job in san diego? you're moving to san diego?"
"it's too good of an offer to pass up, trev. my parents agreed with me. plus it's the only one i've gotten so far and i don't know if i'll get any others."
"it's in san diego, y/n."
"it's just for a little while, trevor. just until i can build good enough relationships with them for me to get good recommendations when i try to move back here and get another job."
"that's a four hour drive from anaheim!"
"i'm well aware of that, thank you." you were starting to get annoyed with him.
"you don't have to take this job. you can wait until you find something closer."
"this is the best i'm going to get, trevor!" you tried to explain but you had a feeling your words were going in one ear and out the other. "i can't just sit around waiting for someone to magically change their mind in anaheim and decide that they suddenly want me to work for them."
"you don't even need to work! you can move in with me, i can provide for you!" that was your last straw.
"trevor zegras, are you fucking with me right now?" your voice was calm when you starting speaking but immediately raised. "you know that this is what i've always wanted to do. i spent my money to get this degree and i'll be damned if i don't use it. i don't care if i have to move to fucking canada to do so."
"then i don't know what you want me to do here, y/n."
"i want you to support me! to be happy that i have this opportunity! that i finally have a good job that i've dreamed of since junior year of high school!"
"well it's kind of hard to be happy and supportive when it seems like your job is being prioritized over me." your jaw dropped, unsure of what to say to that. you thought for a moment, before closing your mouth and walking over to the bathroom.
"where are you going?" trevor asked, but you didn't answer. you returned to his room, dropping all of your bathroom things into your suitcase that sat open on the floor. you hadn't unpacked it very much after you both got back from the shoulder check game only days ago. "what are you doing?"
"i'm packing," you told him quietly, looking around the room for any more of your stuff.
"what? why?" you don't answer, gathering your things and packing them away into the suitcase. trevor called your name, trying multiple times to get your attention but you ignored him. it wasn't until you zipped up the suitcase and stood that he made his way over to you. he placed a hand on each of your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him. you don't, keeping your gaze on the wall to your right. "hey, don't leave because of a little fight." your eyes snap to his then, and he can tell you're angry.
"a little fight? a little fight, trevor? in the past ten minutes you've discredited my new job, my goals, and me as a whole! and then you have the audacity to become the world's biggest hypocrite!"
"what are you-" you stepped away from him, raising your voice again as you cut him off.
"you are constantly prioritizing your job over me. and i always understand. every single time. i may be a little disappointed sometimes but i always understand. because its your job. not only your job, its your dream. and my dream might not be the fucking nhl but it's still valid and i'm allowed to make sacrifices too."
"y/n, that's a little diff-"
"oh my god!' your hands came up, your fingers lacing through your hair and tugging in frustration. "it's not different! it's not! and i'm sorry that you don't understand that. i'm sorry that you can't make a sacrifice that i have to make every other weekend. i'm sorry that you're losing me because of it." you grabbed the handle of your suitcase, wheeling it out of the room before your words sunk in, hoping he wouldn't try and stop you. your cheeks flushed when you found his mom standing by the front door, but the embarrassment faded when she gave you an empathetic look.
"let me drive you to the airport?" you let out a breath, nodding your head and following her outside to the car as you tried to keep your tears at bay.
you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the memory. it had been playing in your head for the past few days, and sometimes you even wondered if maybe he was right. if you hadn't taken the job he could have supported you until you were able to find one in anaheim. you could have lived with him and jamie, had a little more time to soak up summer. but now you were all alone in san diego. you sighed, pulling up your friend macy's contact and clicking the call button. macy had been your best friend since seventh grade when she transferred from wisconsin. she asked to sit next to you and some other friends during lunch, but the two of you instantly clicked. you knew she would be brutally honest with you if you needed her to be.
"hey girl. how's the new place coming?" you looked around, taking in the bare walls and minimal furniture.
"it's okay. just need some time to settle in."
"it better be all cute by the time i come to visit!" when you told macy about the job, she was immediately planning a visit out to you when she had a break in her classes this semester. she had double majored, so it was taking her an extra year to complete them. you smiled at her comment, but then frowned when you remembered why you called her.
"hey, macy, i need to ask you something?"
"what's up?" you picked at a thread coming from the blanket the covered your lap.
"do you think i did the right thing?" she sighed, knowing exactly what you meant. she had been the one to pick you up from the airport when you landed back in anaheim, and you had told her everything on the drive back to your house. "be honest."
"being completely honest, yeah i do. i know it's tough but he can't expect you to sit around like a good little housewife when he's not even home half of the time! especially since you weren't even married. or engaged!"
"yeah."
"listen, i wish i was there with you so i could look you in the eye and tell you this. you are one hundred percent in the right. you need to follow your dreams, do what's right for you and what you've been working toward for the past five years." you sigh, knowing she's right.
"i know. sometimes i just wonder what would've happened if i didn't break up with him. if i just left and told him to call me when he was ready to apologize." you heard macy scoff.
"no offense, but i'm not sure he would've, babe." you talk with macy about a few other things, hometown drama, her upcoming semester, random celebrity news, and finally hang up half an hour later. you're smiling when you hang up, having forgotten all about the reason you originally called. your good mood only lasted about an hour though, when your phone started blowing up with instagram notifications. you scrolled through them on your lockscreen, confused as to why there were so many at one time. you clicked one, and as the app loaded, you realized exactly what was going on. the fans found out about the breakup. you were quick to exit the app, not wanting to deal with any of that right now, but it loaded just before you swiped out, and your jaw dropped at the picture in front of you.
it was taken at the bar near trevor's house in anaheim. you both liked to frequent there since it was also close to a few college campuses, and there were always people around your age. last night, it turns out, trevor had gone there for that exact reason, finding a blonde to chat up. the post had multiple slides, so you slid your thumb across the screen. you immediately regretted the decision. you were met with a video of trevor pressing said blonde against the bar, neither of them seeming to care about all the people surrounding them as they made out. you turned off your phone, dropping it to the cushion next to you as you tried not to cry again. you had already cried over him enough, you didn't need to keep the streak going. you couldn't help but think back to the last time you had all gone there. you and him had been wrapped up in your own little world like that, speaking lowly right into the others ear and trading occasional kisses.
you shook your head, picking your phone back up. you searched trevor's profile on every social media he had, blocking all of his accounts and then his phone number. you were done with him, not wanting to think about someone who wasn't going to love and support you in the way you needed. he had taken three years of your life but he wasn't getting any more. from now on you were focused on yourself. you were focused on your own life and your new job and the people surrounding you that were actually proud of you for it. this was your life and your happiness, and you'll be damned if you let trevor zegras take that from you.
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zombiiegrr · 1 year
Text
Brooklyn Baby. (๑>◡<๑)
a dbf! bucky x afab! reader.
word count : 3130
honestly everything is the same but Bucky is like healed happy and he more like amazing soldier then winter solder lol and jazz thanos didn’t happen causes it’s not marvel it’s more like real army idk with Tony still bring a billionaire + vision being ‘normal’ like wandavison and wanda acting like that aswell :)
cw: y/n is down so bad, cocky!bucky, slightly toxic! bucky not at first, age gaps (y/n is 21 while bucky is 38), cursing, smut. jealously, secret relationship. mentions of skin tone doesn’t exist here. daddy issues, slight mommy issues idk characters pick up the reader theyre all STRONG ass men so dont think the reader is supposed to be petite or anything!! ALSO there’s mention of recent readers 21 birthday ok I’m a june 3 gemini so… idk… ur birthday but it’s technically going to be hot in the fanfic so summer but I won’t say birthdates
Your mother had you at 17 leading to your father going into the military at 18 leaving you and your mother, fighting for his country meeting friends turning into family including bucky
i've always thought when someone watches someone growup then bangs them is kinda sooooo odd.. so bucky was never really around the reader when she was a kid he was on duty and when he was around the reader was way to nervous to even be downstairs when he was there so its not like that!!!!!!
music i listened to while writing. some song fit ill tell u to play them
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new chapter
this is a series! comment to be added to the tag list
@aemondmylove @arilevinsonhavemybabies @masturbucky @alwayshungryforramen @yvonneeeee
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Now landing in New York! enjoy your holiday or welcome home!” The flight attendant says waking you up. You stood gain the feeling back in your legs, got your suitcase from above you wait for the people in front of you to get their items.
Your phone finally gained service flooding in texts from your roommate asking if you got on the flight safe. a bit from your mother telling you to make your dad get you things and more family telling you to have fun and say hi to your father for them. after reading most you finally got to your father's texts telling you his friends were coming to the airport to get you and to be “nice to them”
Just great. You loved your dads' friends the only thing was you had a crush on about every one of them realizing how attractive they are when you hit puberty making you shy around them leading to them thinking you dislike them. It had been 8 years since you left to California to live with your mother for school/the social life (Californian here!) Visiting during summers, Christmas, Thanksgivings and or your father's birthday. After 18 you choose spending summers and most holidays with your father and mother sometimes coming with.
Your fathers' main friends. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, San Wilson, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, James Rhodes. James “Bucky” Barnes, & Scott Lang. Your father had a lot of friends from all over and They were all handsome, but Bucky was breathtaking. You hadn’t seen him in 8 years well you seen him but hadn't even had a full convo you would avoid him like the plague being so embarrassed of the things you talked about with your friends when they pointed him out in family vacation photos.
You finally fully got off the plane moving quicky not wanting to be late and make them wait outside as you arrive outside blinded by the brightness of the sun as you wait for your eyes to adjust. As you finally get the hang of the brightness you hear some walking fast behind you “NO WAY SAME AIRPORT!?” Scott says as he walks over holding cassies hand as she waves aggressively with her other hand you smile wide knowing Scott lived above you in California , San Francisco. So it made sense landing in the same airport.
A car horn makes you all look over quickly seeing an Chrysler 300 with a metal arm out the window meeting the glasses of a guy smirking at you and before you could react someone busts open the back door making your face light up realizing who it was.
“DOUNTTTTT!!!!!” Clint screamed getting looks from other people there as you ran to him aswell
“HAWKEYE!!!” Clint had earned the name hawkeye when he had been the only one approved to use a bow and arrow with guns on the field and according to your dad he moved and had the eyes of a hawk giving him the nickname “Hawkeye” which you loved as a child still using now when he called to check on you helping you during fails and letting you stay with his family during fights with your mom.
"Geez you look all different kid had to make sure it was you." Clint says as he hugged you tightly giving you a kiss on the forehead while taking your suitcase in the other arm.
"Is that really you superstar you got taller or is something else different?" A kind smile meets your eyes as Sam reaches over the driver's seat "Well, I'm 21 now! last time you seen me I was like what 17?" Clint nods his head as he puts your suitcase in the back of the car.
“WHATS UP TINY” Sam says as he gets out the car to run and hug Cassie earning a giggle from Cassie as he lifts her up “oh you brought your father” sam jokes as he puts her down “Yeah ok Sam it’s great to see you to” Scott laughs as he hugs him and Clint
"Hello ladybug" Bucky says removing his glasses. he called you ladybug when he came home from duty to you welcoming him home with your dad in a ladybug outfit and when you dyed your hair red and black and always wore black and white. You liked ladybugs and liked that the few times you spoken; he had called you one.
"James-" he laughed slightly at your formality reminding you that bucky was fine making your stomach fluttery at the eye contact "Almost drove past you bug. You look beautiful you father talks about you like you're still a kid hiding from us on the stairs. But then I seen Scott your a lifesaver Scott " Bucky eyes you making you feel small under his gaze.
"Woah lay off the charm handsome" Scott laughs out loud not causing Bucky to break eye contact just smirk a bit more.
You get in the car begging bucky to drive you home fast He laughs and jokes about how insane Californians are with driving. OfCourse the two in the car start agreeing and shit talking Californians. You laugh seeing as you were literally in NEW YORK and so were they. and in an argument between the worst driving between New York and Cali? New York takes the cake or at least in your opinion.
you see scott putting his stuff in the back and you asking if Scott and Cassie were getting a ride then you got confirmation that Scott was invited by your father and you would be going to the same place!
the car ride was a bit quiet besides humming from you or clint. Many questions from Cassie before she passed out knocked out after 5 minutes. Bucky did ask about school, housing, and asked how your mom was doing. You answered all happily just happy to talk to anyone other then your roommate or your mom. Sam starts to ask the ‘good’ questions asking if you had had a drink yet since you had (recently) turned 21 extremely quietly looking over at Cassie You answered half ass knowing you truthfully had only had a few cocktails and maybe a beer while at a party only enough to get tipsy nothing getting you drunk.
You Start to pull up to the house watching your father standing outside with Tony talking about something noticing us pulling in.
“OH YOUR HOME” you father says LOUDLY gaining a very blank stare from Tony covering his ear rolling his eyes. He parks and you run out to hug your father being too broke to see him but not wanting to ask others to pay for a ticket you hugged him for a while before tony ask how long it’s been since you had seen each other.
“6 Months. Longest time since I was on duty.” You father answers gaining a frown from you. “College payment. I went broke and tried working overtime but my car-“your father cut you off with another hug reminding you that you’re here now daddy issue go crazy.
It had taken a while to repair the relationship with your father dealing with the damage of what he did and how his cheating broke up your family and how he ‘parented you’ due to his own issues and ‘shell shock’ from the years at service you could recognize he was trying so hard to change and heal.
“not to ruin the moment but I have a surprise or well we have a surprise let’s go inside” you dad says as you watch Clint grab your bag so you start walking in with your dad.
Steve, and Rhodes were talking in the kitchen looking over and noticing you. “Hell kid you sure grew up” Steve walks over giving you a big hug seen as those are common today sorry if you hate hugs Rhodes behind also giving you a hug.
“Ok give me the floor please lady’s and gentlemen. I and Darren have decided to force all of you to go on a family trip with us and before any of you say shit like ‘work’ or ‘kids’ or whatever I will slap you i cleared everything for you guys cause I’m me. But yeah kids are coming with causes it a damn huge lake house” Tony says as he pulls his laptop out to pull up the lake house Information.
“We and I mean WE ALL will be staying at Twin Oaks At The Chapin Estate for the summer because I own that place and it sits there collecting dust. HEY, Clint your kids they will have a room with bunk beds and Scott you okay with Cassie bunking them and Morgan?” Scott said it was perfectly fine with him if It was okay with Cassie who was nodding. Tony continued “it’s me and pepper of course Darren already claimed his room Nat and banner are gonna visit but not stay, Vision, Wanda, their kids and Thor will be staying in a place that they decided to rent like a seven-minute walk away from away from us so that’s cool. So that’s three more rooms any takers?
Everyone was kind of collecting information. You were overjoyed about going out to the lake and the family restaurants in that area. Sam said that he was fine with a couch and really didn’t need a room which a few people without rooms started to agree with.
As everyone started talking about rooms and stays and everything else your mind starts to wander to Bucky and the thought you and him staying in the same place overnight although you did feel a bit silly getting so excited over that. You didn’t even realize he was sitting right in front of you at the table smiling at you making you feel warm you stupidly thought if he could hear your thoughts. You thought about asking your dad to put you both in the same room cringing at the look your father would give you.
“hey ladybug” bucky whispers making you look at him making eye contact for the first time in a bit. “Hm?” You ask trying not to express any nervousness especially not around everyone else and especially not in front of him. “excited? I haven’t been on a trip in forever even if we’re staying in New York that place is expensive knowing Tony” you agreed saying you were excited just nervous about getting bored or homesick he laughed a bit and reminded you he won’t let you get bored locking eye contact feeling his knee slightly hit yours before he his smirk slightly grew.
“Okay final decision. Me and pepper, Clint and Laura, The kids, Darren, y/n, Rhodes, and Steve. And for some reason the rest of you prefer the couches? I dont know but I don’t care it’s figured out. Also shit I told the kids I’m sponsoring that he can bring his friends out to the lake and the pool and the gym and all that they aren’t staying but heads up.”
“Parker?” Darren asks. Tony nodded his head as he closed his computer. Everyone looked happy and it make you happy. Bucky would be using a couch which seemed like something he would do but being honest he’ll probably share a room with Steve falling asleep on the couch in Steve’s room of choice. You were fine with him sneaking in your room though
When the thought came to your head your looked at him right away giggling and squeezing your legs together like a teenager everyone looked at your confused and you father asked what was so funny backed up by bucky wondering as-well you laughed again apologizing and changing the subject saying you would be going shopping to pack for the trip backed up by Scott asking if you would be so kind to pick up a bathing suit for Cassie which you agreed
“Do you even remember where everything is?” Bucky teased. Why was he being so flirty? Were you being delusional?? Were you misinterpreting everything? Was he flirting or just hot and talking .
“yeah. Wanna go with just incase I forgot?” Smoothhhh you thought to yourself begging that no one else will invite themselves attempting to keep his invitation quiet.
“Don’t mind if I do. I have the ugliest swim trunks so I have to get new ones hun” he replied getting up saying he would get his keys
Everyone else said it would be smart to go Home and pack or something all deciding to meet up here again the next morning at 7am to start the drive over seeing as it would take a few hours did my research frfr
about 30 minutes later! (>ω^)
“sooo adult Life? How do you like it? I asked this before but in a car full of people and a kid so is it the same answer?” Bucky asked as walked around the clothing store you laughed knowing you did change your answer cause of the people in the car
“It’s shit. My mom forgets I’m a adult and cussed me out because i went to “way to many parties in one week” and posted “things” when I knew people from church view my story so she took my car which caused me to spend everything on a new one which is why I couldn’t pay to come out here” you could feel the words pouring out of you and Bucky was an amazing listener he followed every word you spoke feeling and reading you emotions and you could tell that made your heart pound.
“Man im sorry kid. Why didn’t you reach out? Dumb question I know it can be hard but your ‘uncle’ is a billionaire he would have happily got you a ticket to visit and your dad missed you like crazy he would have definitely helped.”
you frowned again. “oh no ladybug I didn’t mean like you did something wrong I’m just saying we’re here for you. We care and if you ever need to come out here for anything we will happily help. excuse me I’m not the best with words”
“you’re great. thank you bucky.” you said as you hugged his arm he pulled you away a bit which made you confused but then he gave you a full hug in the middle of the store which made you laugh in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him go. He smelt so good and covered so much of you he held on to you so tightly and easy it make you shake.
“Woah you're shaking to hard of a hug. Sorry kid” you held on before he could let go and reassured him that you were fine and just a bit touch starved, he let out an attractive laugh whispering take all the time you need. You could feel the change in your panties as you grew wetter in his hold as he whispered asking If you were alright. Making you hold him tighting nodding you head.
You finally let go shaking embarrassed that you were this into a hug for crying out loud. You locked eye contact he was smirkingly as usual looking down at your basket asking if you got everything you needed you nodded asking if he did Aswell seeing as he had nothing.
“Oh no sweetheart I just wanted a excuse to come with” you genuinely felt like you had a flood in your panties you felt so shameless for getting so wet over that over everything he did or said you nodded and smiled at him walking away before you did something stupid.
While in line Bucky was clearly eyeing your basket. The underwear the bikini THE everything or maybe he was just looking over? Unless he asked “isn't that a bit small?” pointing at the bikini “your daddy isn't gonna like that”
“I don’t care what daddy thinks or says I want the bikini”
for once Bucky looked surprised or well for a few seconds before he had a different look on his face he looked so good like he liked whatever I said I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you’re sure it had something with saying daddy.
“Move in line y/n” once again whispering in your ear you did once again feeling that pulse in your panties. If he whispered in your ear one more time you were gonna-
“You total is $226.88 cash credit? Debit? Or Apple Pay” The cashier snapped you out of it with that total as you were so confused how you got that much stuff for a 1-and-a-half-month trip. Before you could think Bucky puts his Card in being way to buff for you to cross over and cancel you just stood there saying nonooooooooo i GOT it when you definitely didn’t have it but Bucky did. Tony slipped him a card
He grabbed your bags grabbing your hand aswell leading you out saying let’s go.
“Bucky that was a lot of money.” He ignores you as you both get back into the car as you keep repeating that he didn’t need to and that you needed to look at everything to see if it was even worth it and he still wasnt repling until he did.
“Y/n i GOT it. Please kid don’t worry about me we’re gonna have so much fun and spend a lot of time together if thats alright with you and if you would stop stressing about some money right now we could start having fun right sweetheart? Thank you.” He said calmly just sternly making me sit back into lt seat
“Atta girl thank you” you almost whimpered outloud he was very leading and it made you weak he probably knew so much things you don’t you want him to teach you
“hellllllllo you’re Home ladybug” you look around seeing that youre in your driveway and start to freak out nervous to ask for his number. “Thank you so much. Is there anyway we could talk? Instagram? Number? Email? Sorry that’s silly.“ you were mixing all of your words up again. he nodded and took his phone out handing his phone to you as you put you phone number in you felt his eyes on you.
“Thank you i was going to ask someone for you number but easy if you did First” you GOT nervous at THE idea that he fought of you.
“good night Bucky don’t forget tomorrow” You said as you got your bags and got out the card.
“Oh i wouldn’t miss it for the world ladybug” he said as he watching you making sure you got into the house safely
until next time sweetheart.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
I hope you guys liked this!!! took so long im so sorry plz plz let me know how you guy liked it also Lmk for tag list this is a series.
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Spring, 2020 - JAG Headquarters Naval Base San Diego
Chapter 6 Part 1 of You Are My Soulmate
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
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Description: After too long, it's finally the day of your inquiry. You're to be judged by a panel of your peers and with the COMPACFLT presiding. You're filled with nerves. Of course, Lieutenants Marks and Greybanks have your back as do the Daggers. One conversation with Rooster gives you hope, hope that your soulmate doesn't hate you, and hope that this inquiry will finally go your way!
Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish. The author has no idea how Navy inquiries go (so take all the legalese with a grain of salt).
This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.
Warnings: Female!Reader
Word Count: 4414
A/N: Hehehehehe! Now that I've gotten my wicked little giggles out of the way, I hope you're all ready!
But first! A disclaimer! I'm neither a law professional nor in the US Navy. In this more than any chapter for this story I've written, I implore you to ignore the pseudo-legalese and my fragrant lack of knowledge regarding military inquiry protocol.
And now to the fun part! We're going to get revenge on an odious little bird in this chapter! (Yes, I mean a particular character!) His number is up and everyone is very eager to see him BURN!
I'm sorry this chapter wasn't out at 6 PM EST like usual. What can I say except life happened?
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!
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Tinkerbell
The courtroom is far less imposing than you were expecting. The walls are beige and unadorned. The truly imposing people in the room are your opposing counsel and the fact that this trial is being presided over by the Commander of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Tom Kazansky. You’d think that facing down the COMPACFLT and a panel of fellow Lieutenant Commanders would take all of your attention, but you’d be wrong. The focus of all of your attention, and well, the attention of everyone else in the room, is on the cocky man sitting in the witness box. He's under oath, having promised to ‘Tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’, but looking at his face, a part of you cannot believe he will do so. Whatever truths spilling from his mouth are likely to be false, nuggets of information so twisted and cruel that you can’t even hope the panel of Lieutenant Commanders in the room can make sense of it. The picture he’s painting of you is far from flattering, after all.
As Hawk tells it, you’re a temperamental female AMDO Lieutenant Commander with a penchant for throwing hissy fits on the job and sabotaging successful male pilots just out of spite for their physical prowess. It’s a convincing tale and makes you want to sink into the seat of your chair next to Commanders Marks and Greybanks as he smirks vindictively at you. As if he hadn’t dragged every inch of your leadership through the mud when he went through the events of the first AMDO inspection of the year, now you know there’s something else he has to mention for this trial. It hasn’t mattered how often Commanders Marks and Grebanks objected to Hawk’s rendition of the first AMDO inspection of the year. Admiral Kazansky had sustained all of the objections, but it seems to have been too little, too late. Nobody on the panel of seven looks remotely convinced of your innocence anymore.
“Moving on then. What, Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor, did you witness on the morning of December 18th at approximately 0530 AM?” Commander Wilson of the Judge Advocate General’s Corps is stern as he asks the question. When you’d expressed confusion to Commanders Marks and Greybank, you were informed that this was standard operating procedure in the Navy. The courtroom, for lack of a better word, is hushed. Whether you like it or not, Hawk has everyone on the edge of their seats, hanging onto his every word.
“I saw the Lieutenant Commander and the Lieutenants having words, Commander.”
“Which Lieutenant Commander and Lieutenants, Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor?” It’s unsurprising when Hawk points to you as well as Bradley and Jake sitting in the gallery and states your full names. You were expecting this; both Commanders Marks and Greybank had prepared you for it. However, you weren’t expecting to see Bradley in the courtroom or the remaining Daggers. This closed inquiry indicates whether you will face a court martial. The only personnel in the room are those necessary for the defense or the prosecution. So that must mean that the Daggers are being called either as witnesses for the defense or a witness for the prosecution.
It hurts, seeing the new scars crisscrossing over Bradley’s face and the fragile way he shuffles in his seat as Hawks’ testimony enthralls the court. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re going to throw up. That distinctly sick feeling continues as Commander Wilson asks question after question, all of them intent on crucifying you. If he were in an F-18, you’d have the crosshairs on you and hear the tone of the missile lock. A victorious smile, poorly concealed, is on Hawk's face as his prosecution finishes questioning and takes their seats. Now, Commander Marks takes over the questioning for the defense.
“Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor, we've heard what happened on the morning of December 18th. Why were you on base that early?”
Commander Greybanks leans forward when Hawk scoffs and starts scrawling notes on the legal pad before him. “We were scheduled to begin training at 0800 hours sharp. But I wanted to get some additional time on the flight simulators, so I was on base earlier that day.”
“Then why were you in Hangar Two, Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor, when per your earlier statement, you were going to the Simulation Center on the opposite end of North Island Naval Air Station?”
You let a furtive smile curl your lips for the first time since the inquiry began. It’s fleeting because you probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the hope that question gives you is enough. Hawk’s expression makes you feel even better because he looks like he’s taken a sip of curdled milk from an expired carton.
“I was just on my way to the Simulation Center from the locker room when I saw the lights on in Hangar Two. It was 0530 in the morning, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else there. So, I dipped in through the back door to ensure nobody was messing with the proprietary Naval technology inside the hangar.”
There’s a distinct tremor in Hawk’s voice as he says the words. It almost feels like he’s worried about something - hopefully, something that the Commanders will uncover.
“What about the conversation the Lieutenant Commander and Lieutenants were having piqued your interest, Lieutenant Junior Grade?”
“I couldn’t quite hear it, Ma’am, but it was something to do with Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet.”
Hawk takes a sip of water from the glass in front of him before he continues.
“I was not close enough to hear exactly what was wrong with the jet, Ma’am. But Tinkerbell was under the jet looking at the landing gear - the front landing gear in particular.”
“So what did you hear, Lieutenant Junior Grade?” Commander Marks is sticking to the facts, not letting Hawk philosophize in a manner he’d clearly like to if the way he swallows with each statement is an indication. She’s also quite content to let Hawk’s continued use of your callsign rather than your rank slide. It bothers you because you’ve earned your rank with blood, sweat, and a not-insignificant quantity of tears. But she must have a reason. Both the Commanders must have a reason because Hawk’s clearly discomfited at Commander Marks questioning him instead of Commander Greybank.
“As I mentioned, Ma’am, I heard nothing until Lieutenant Bradshaw got loud. He mentioned something about wanting to still fly.”
“Then what happened?” 
“Tinkerbell happened, ma’am.” There’s a distinct snarl on his face as he says your name. “She refused to let Lieutenant Bradshaw fly.”
“Was Lieutenant Bradshaw’s absence explained before that day’s exercises?”
“It was ma’am, by Tinkerbell of all people. She explained it as an acute mechanical failure on the front landing gear - not that I believed her.”
“And what happened after that?”
“Nothing, in particular, Ma’am. We flew in our assigned patterns through the morning and into the afternoon. It was the first hop after lunch that something out of the ordinary happened. Lieutenant Bradshaw came on comms at half-past two that day. He told us he’d been cleared to fly by Tinkerbell and that he’d be joining us up in the air.”
You feel like you’ve been sucker-punched again. Suddenly, you’re back on the tarmac, jet fuel exhaust wafting past as you scream into the comms. That panic, that pain, that feeling of hopelessness, and the fear is washing over you again.
“Twenty minutes later, I was watching a fireball burst against the side of the mountain. Tell me why it was that one of the US Navy's best aviators had to crash because one female AMDO couldn't do her job properly?”
“The defense has no further questions about the incident occurring on December 18th, Admiral Kazansky.”
“Very well, let’s take a half-hour recess and convene back here at exactly quarter past 11. We’ll resume with the questioning of Lieutenant Bradshaw at that time.” The Admiral looks tired - it can’t be easy presiding over inquiries.
The moment you are dismissed, the Commanders lead you to a secluded bench in the open central hall of JAG headquarters.
“That was rough.” It’s a matter-of-fact comment and not one that either of the Commanders is expecting a response to.
They let you sit in silence for a minute, at most, before Lieutenant Greybank hands you a bottle of water. “Do you still intend to testify to the status of your soulbond with Lieutenant Bradshaw?”
“If I need to.” You sigh, noticing the Daggers spreading out through the courtyard. Jake and Javy look like they're searching for you. So does Bradley - which you are not expecting. “It’s my last resort, sir, ma’am. If we need to mention my soulbond and soul-markers to sway the panel, then we will. I’m not ready to let my career go without a fight.”
“Alright. We’re going to go talk to Commander Wilson. I feel we have a few more pieces of evidence to submit to the Admiral and the panel, then.” You stand and salute the higher-ranking officials as they walk away before sitting back down as you let your eyes flutter closed. 
It’s warm in the sun-roof ceilinged room. If you ignore the chatter of people at the coffee cart across the way, you could almost delude yourself into believing that it’s the middle of summer. More importantly, you can believe that all of this is behind you. You let yourself relish in the heat and imagine a summer day where you're curled up under the lone oak tree in your backyard. There are birds chirping, and if you focus, you can just hear the soft susurrations of the ocean over the wind rustling through the grass.
Your fantasy comes crashing down around your ears when a body settles onto the bench next to you. You know who it is before you even open your eyes, the soulbond buzzing like a hive of agitated bees under your skin just in his proximity.
“Hi, Bradley.” Your face feels hot as you take in his face.
“Hi, Tink.” He sounds so subdued, so lost as he greets you.
“Are you doing alright?” You blurt the words out before you even think about them. You've meant to ask it since you heard he woke up.
“I'm okay, Tinkerbell.” He chuckles then, something soft yet mirthless. “Gotta take it one day at a time. Though I think I'm officially not a looker anymore.”
The scars are arresting, slanting bright red, and standing out from his still-golden skin. But they're not ugly; far from ugly, in fact. The new skin growing over the burns is pink and tender, the color of his lips when he bites on them as he's deep in thought. They make him look mature, almost otherworldly, sitting there in his white dress uniform with his cover perched on perfectly coiffed curls.
“That's a lie.” You’re so tired of hearing the lies, of the stress, and of the sleepless nights, more like exhaustion, that the words trip out of your mouth unbidden. Your brain catches up with your mouth just a touch too late, but before your mortification can set in, rich laughter fills up the space between the two of you.
“Tell me what you really think; why don’t you, Tinkerbell?” Something about being this close to Bradley Bradshaw makes you feel brave and bold.
“It makes you look mysterious.” His laugh makes you smile.
“I owe you an apology.”
“I have to apologize to you.”
You start speaking at the same time he does, your voice tapering off into shocked silence when you hear that he’s saying the same thing you are.
“What do you have to apologize for, Bradley?” Your voice is quiet as you stare in shock at him. He looks just as confused as you are. 
“I could ask the same thing of you. But if I do, I’m pretty sure we’ll be asking each other questions until this recess is over.” He smiles softly at you. “Why don’t you go first?”
Your voice is even softer because now Jake and Javy have found you and are standing within earshot. “I need to apologize to you, Bradley. God, I should have ensured the flight crew knew not to leave your jet unattended. I should have had a member of my team remove the ignition or disable the flight computer. Something, anything. Because seeing you crash like that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.”
“I’m so sorry, Bradley.” You’re sniffling when you fall silent, rooting around in a pocket for a tissue.
You get handed a handkerchief, starched and pure white instead. 
“Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I’ve been rude to you since the night we met. Truly, it’s because I was jealous.” He runs his hands through his hair in a frustrated motion. “That first night, I don’t know if you remember it, but when I met you at the bar, I could have sworn I felt something special. Something miraculous. I thought you were my soulmate. Then Jake found you in the aftermath of that bar fight, and I saw red. In those few moments, you shook me to my core. I’d sworn I would never find my soulmate, and I promised that if I ever found my soul, I’d never let them go.”
Your heart feels like it’s in overdrive. Did he just say what you think he did? There’s no way. How has he never realized that the dreams he’s had are about you?
“But I did. Sweetheart, I let you go that night, then again every time I saw you on Base. I never should have let you go. Please forgive me. You deserve so much better than the platonic soulmate you got, sweetheart. But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise you that.”
You know you’re in a nightmare now. What about the dreams made it seem platonic to him? Maybe his dreams were different from yours because you’ve ended up naked in nearly all of them! But you can’t focus on that when your career is at risk.
“So you know?” Your voice is a little accusatory, a little angry, and a little sad. “You knew I was your soulmate, and you didn’t say anything?”
Your words make the sheepish grin on his face drop. “I-I…” But you don’t let him stutter out platitudes and even more apologies.
“I’ve been looking for you for most of my life, Bradley!” Your hands shake as you twist them in your lap, crushing the handkerchief in your fingers. “You…. only you. I thought you could never hurt your soulmate. The thoughts have been consuming me for months. What will you do if he dies? What will happen if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s not yours? Why? Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you think it was okay to leave me waiting? To leave me not knowing?”
One big hand covers your cold fingers, carefully disentangling the kerchief. “I was scared, sweetheart. Terrified. I don’t have a good track record with soulmates. My parents were soulmates, and it destroyed my mom when my dad died. Here I am, doing the same thing he did. I couldn’t put another soul through what my mama went through. So when I got my marks, I pushed them to the back of my mind. I ignored all of the signs that a girl could be my soulmate - including the night I met you. You were the hardest to ignore, sweetheart. I wish I’d never done so because that wouldn’t have given Hawk a reason to target you like he did.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make, Bradley. That choice was mine. How dare you rob me of the choice of having the happiness your parents must have felt? This is my life, too, Bradshaw. Platonic or Romantic, you had no right to do that.” His gasp is audible as you look right into his eyes. “But I forgive you. So long as you promise never to do that again, we’ll be okay. But you’ll only get a second chance, not a third one.”
You stand up, carefully folding up the kerchief and pressing it into the breast pocket of Bradley’s suit. You dip down and gently kiss his cheek, tracing your fingers over one of the new scars. “As far as Hawk is concerned, I don’t think there is a single thing you could have done to stop him. He’s hated me since I told him off during the AMDO inspection - something I was well within my rights to do. This inquiry will prove that. I know it will. Give ‘em hell, Bradshaw.”
You’re smiling as you rejoin Commanders Marks and Greybank outside of the room, especially since you hear Bradley, Jake, and Javy coming up behind you. A big hand squeezes yours in passing, and you brace yourself to go once more unto the breach.
Bradley looks worn and tired as he takes the oath. He says each word emotionlessly, like he can’t bear to go over the accident, to relive the pain he was in.
“Do you believe the Lieutenant Commander released your jet purposefully?” Commander Wilson may be expressionless, but Hawk’s not as he catches your eye across the room.
“Objection! Leading Question!” Commander Greybanks doesn’t let the question get very far, though.
“Sustained.” Admiral Kazansky rubs at his temples as he dismisses the question. “The question is struck from the record. Commander Wilson, refrain from using leading questions, please.”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Bradshaw, who released your jet for use that day?”
The entire room seems to lean forward in their seats. There isn’t a sound in the room. Bradley makes direct eye contact with you before he rises to his full height in the chair.
“Nobody did, sir.” Three innocuous words which set the courtroom murmuring. Commanders Marks and Greybanks look nearly elated as they confer in hushed tones beside you. But you have eyes only for your soulmate.
“Then why did you get into your jet?” Commander Wilson’s wheeling. The biggest piece of evidence against you just dissipated in front of the prosecution’s eyes.
“I wanted to fly, sir. I wanted to prove that I had what it takes to fly the mission we were training for. It didn’t feel right that I was grounded while the remainder of my squad were allowed to show what they’re made of.”
Bradley’s chuckles are self-deprecating. “Of course, nobody from my squadron had the chance to fly due to my actions.”
“You are sure that the Lieutenant Commander stated there was a problem in the front-landing gear?”
“Objection! What’s the relevance of this question?”
“Admiral, if Lieutenant Bradshaw assumed a problem with the front landing gear, then conceivably, he could have completed the training maneuvers successfully. He merely would have had a hard landing. There would not have been a multi-million dollar explosion in the hills of San Diego, nor would there have been a lengthy stay in the hospital.”
“Objection overruled. Lieutenant Bradshaw, please answer the question.” Admiral Kazansky’s turned the full force of his green eyes to Bradley now.
“Per the maintenance report the Lieutenant Commander sent to me, as well as the parts requisition forms, the defect in my F/A-18 was a defective front landing gear.”
“I have no further questions.” Commander Wilson settles back into his seat as Commander Greybank stands up. “Defense’s witness.”
“Lieutenant Bradshaw, what happened once you took off?” 
“I relayed my coordinates to the group I was supposed to be flying with and joined the exercise. Everything was fine until after the simulated bombing run. As we were flying back in formation, everything in my jet started showing error signs. First, the left engine went out. Re-igniting did nothing. Then the radar conked out. Finally, I lost control. I saw flashing red on every instrument as the plane sank lower and lower. I kept trying to salvage the situation. But nothing I did helped. I pulled the ejection cords a little too late, and the doctors told me that I was engulfed by the fireball my jet created as it made contact with the hill. I don’t remember that part, Commander.”
You’re seeing the fireball in the distance again, hearing Bradley’s comms go dark and feeling his pain. Your hand shakes as you reach for your glass of water. This must be torture, or divine retribution because you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to hear what Bradley went through without getting a little light-headed.
“I understand that might have been a harrowing ordeal. Do you believe the Lieutenant Commander caused the incident?”
“I do not. The accident was due to my own stupidity. The Lieutenant Commander forwarded the parts requisition form and the maintenance report to me that day. She also informed me when the parts were likely to be available. However, I would love to know what caused my engines to malfunction over the desert that day. Under the Lieutenant Commander’s careful watch, North Island has seen fewer aircraft malfunctions over the past six months than over the same duration every year before her appointment to North Island.”
He winks subtly at you as he says the words, chest puffing out in pride at your accomplishments.
“How do you know that?” Commander Greybank is smiling slightly as he says the words as well.
“I’ve been cleared for light duty over the past two weeks. As such, I’ve been working in the records room filing reports for the Admiralty, including the AMDO reports. It was a matter of a few hours to collect the statistics on AMDO inspections. They were given to Admirals Bates, Simpson, and Mitchell as a report.” Bradley’s smirking victoriously at Hawk, and it doesn’t surprise you at all to see how red he’s getting.
“We have a copy of that report to present to the panel as evidence.” Commander Greybank passes the documents to each member of the panel.
“We have no further questions for Lieutenant Bradshaw. However, we’d like to recall Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor at this time. We'd like to present a new piece of evidence to the panel, which we’d like him to answer some questions on.”
“Motion granted. Lieutenant Bradshaw, you may return to your seat.” Admiral Kazansky’s eyes flash with a hungry look as Bradley salutes him and the panel sharply before clambering back to his seat. This is going to be good. Hawk deserves everything that is coming to him and more.
Once he’s been sworn in again, Commander Marks hands a flash drive to the Admiral. A TV is brought out under Admiral Kazansky’s gimlet gaze, and the drive is plugged in. The video is without audio but clearly shows Hangar Two, specifically Bradley’s jet. It feels weird seeing yourself on camera like that. Does your hair always stick up in the back like that when you run your fingers through it? But you forget about that when the screen shows you leaving the Hangar and talking to Lieutenant Green shortly before 8 AM. Marissa hadn’t left you alone until you’d agreed to get a cup of coffee, at the very least, with her before training started for the day. Your knuckles are white as you clutch your hands together under the table. The camera ticks forward five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. That’s when someone enters the Hangar and straps something into the front landing gear housing. It’s small and metallic. A techno-bomb of some sort, maybe? But far more damning is how the individual fails to hide their face or their patches as they turn to exit the Hangar.
There’s panic on Hawk’s face sitting in front of the panel now. It can’t be easy to see yourself sabotage a superior officer’s plane in front of the COMPACFLT of the US Navy and twenty other higher-ranking officers, all with righteous rage in their eyes.
“In light of this evidence, Admiral Kazansky, we move to dismiss this inquiry and would request that Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor be remanded into the US Navy’s custody pending a Court Martial hearing for sabotage.” There’s a sly grin on Commander Mark’s face as she requests your release.
“What? No!” Hawk’s yell sets the already agitated Naval Personnel into whispering in earnest. “Why are you arresting me?! She’s the dumb bitch who made a mistake! She should be facing a court martial! Everyone knows that women can’t withstand the pressure of being in the Navy! She’s proof, as is that cunt Lieutenant Green. Nobody gives a fuck that they know the NATOPS of the F/A-18 as well as the F-22 and F-35! They’re just here to be diversity hires. Both of them and every other woman in the Navy, Lieutenant Trace included, are probably fucking their way to the top.”
That’s about when Nat launches herself across the room, landing punch after punch to Hawk’s person before Jake and Javy haul her away - though you’re sure they don’t until Nat’s gotten a few good jabs to Hawk’s nether region. The Daggers, as a whole, are bristling with rage. But nobody seems to be angrier than Admiral Kazansky. One firm whistle and the room falls silent.
“That is enough!” Admiral Kazansky is so angry that it feels like the entire room is shrouded in ice. “Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor, consider this an order. Shut your mouth. You are showing yourself to be a disgrace to your wings and the US Navy. I hereby remand you into the Navy’s custody until your court martial hearing.”
“Lieutenant Trace, report to Admiral Mitchell at 0900 hours tomorrow for the consequences of conduct unbecoming a US Navy Lieutenant in this inquiry.”
“Commander Marks, your request is approved. Lieutenant Commander, you are hereby found not culpable for Lieutenant Bradshaw’s accident on December 18th. We expect to see you back at North Island in your full capacity tomorrow morning at 0900 hours sharp!”
As he stands, the entire room stands in respect and salutes, waiting until the aged man returns the salute before he walks away. It’s over. You’re free. Commander Marks and Greybanks even have cease and desist orders on behalf of the US Navy against the paparazzi on your front lawn. You can go home now. Even better, there might just be something new brewing with your soulmate. 
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
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Taglist:
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If your username is crossed out, that means that I wasn't able to tag you!
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ronearoundblindly · 2 months
Note
Hi Ro! I have this idea eating a hole in my brain since it manifested. I feel like we see a lot of mafia! Steve and Bucky where the reader is one of their gf and the other is her bodyguard or something else of the sort (which I love) BUT…
Could you imagine a badass bodyguard reader? Like, she works to protect one of them and they don’t even sexualize her, but after seeing how well they work together and how dedicated and hard-working she is, they just hopelessly fall in love? Which launches mutual pining, but also both of them thinking it’s unrequited and her still just girlbossing away. Until some inciting inciting incident (TBD) which makes them super close to realize how they feel and then both of them needing a new bodyguard because now she’s the gf of a mafia boss.
I’d try and write it but I don’t have anywhere near as much talent as you and wouldn’t do it justice. Also, sorry if this adds to your 92747739 other WIPs
Alright. Full disclosure: I am not even remotely a fan of the mafia!fic, or mob!fic, or really any of the tropes that take a fundamental piece of a character out of the equation. To me, doing the right thing and using personal harm as a last resort are inextricable from Steve's personality--and is what we love about him.
[To be clear, I am not throwing shade on y'alls writing or reading preferences! Just telling you my take on it. You do you 😘]
His character lends itself to being a CEO, like in the It Had To Be You series, a military commander, or even president.
In that regard, I wonder if it would fall into the same vein of story to have Steve be running for some sort of 'office' but in a kind of dystopian country as the non-corrupt candidate who is in danger due to political/military pressures between opponents?
Say...maybe John Walker could be the smooth-talking but selfish alt runner? Bucky and Steve and Walker used to serve in the armed forces under an equally corrupt dictator figure...say, Ross, perhaps? Then Steve broke away--like the Nomad persona--until he emerged to run against Walker with a faction of the military's support.
So you're hired as part of Bucky's security team first, but since Bucky is with Steve so much, you're very recognizable to Steve. There could be a minor attack at a public event where you throw yourself in front of Bucky (who threw himself in front of Steve), and the real surprise to them is that you want to return without hesitation once recovered.
After a completely professional, stone-faced few months, Steve wins the election.
The night's celebrations go on till the wee hours; you keep a keen eye on your charges even though it's the first time either has seen you in a formal gown instead of a plain suit. When the results are actually announced on the TV, Steve is struck by seeing you smile and get emotional for the first time. It warms his heart to see you proud of him. It's a relief to know you don't just stick around as an employee. You actually believe in him and what he's doing.
fucking swoon
I'm not sure whether I'd write this as Stucky x reader or Steve with reader and Bucky as a friend, honestly, but I feel like after Steve (and maybe Bucky) turn in at their hotel room after all that partying, you're the guard at the door.
Steve debates inviting you inside because he's so curious to know more about you personally.
He opens the door, but you're not there. Sam Wilson is. He took over the shift so you could get out of your heels.
Steve makes up some shitty excuse to need your room number, fusses over going to talk to you alone, maybe says Bucky will come with him as protection instead (since at very least Buck is sus of Steve's interest).
You answer the door sans jewelry and shoes but with the dress still on. He can come in if he helps with the zipper and buttons down the back. For such big hands, his fingers are nimble as they work the delicate fastenings.
ope, swooned again
And then...ya know...this is all very tempting since the night has been charged with adrenaline and hope, so...yeah...
Steve goes in for a kiss and more.
🥴
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Idk. Probably. Something like that. Is that close enough to mob/mafia? Not my wheelhouse so this is likely the best I can do...
Can y'all help me? You want stucky or just stevie?? Promise that the politics is more of a background thing, but it's the only scenario I could work with in their canon dynamic/personalities.
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bi-bard · 1 year
Text
Taylor Swift Songs that Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson - Dick Grayson Imagine [Titans]
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Title: Taylor Swift Songs that Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson
Pairing: Dick Grayson X Reader
Word Count: 1,200 words
Warning(s): mention of death/violence
Author's Note: It may be a new year, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna stop using Taylor Swift songs to inspire my writing all the time.
---------------------------
New Year's Day
Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared And you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day
The tower was tenser after the team left than it was in the moments before.
I looked toward the doorway that everyone, but Gar had walked through. I didn't get it. I didn't get why everyone was running. I understood that Dick had lied, but in either series of events, Dick didn't have a proper chance to save Jericho. In either series of events, Slade Wilson was still at fault for what happened.
I sighed and shook my head before walking over to Dick. "Come on, let's get your face cleaned up."
It was still bloody from when Hank had punched him.
Dick didn't talk until I had wiped a wet washcloth under his nose.
"Are you gonna head back to Gotham," he asked.
"What," I replied, pulling the washcloth away. "I... I wasn't planning on it, why?"
"After everything that happened... what happened with Jericho-"
"What happened to Jericho was Slade's fault, got it," I cut him off. "I don't blame you for that. I... I don't quite understand why you lied to me about it, but I don't blame you. I don't think that you would have knowingly dragged Jericho into that fight."
Dick nodded. I grabbed his jaw so he would stay still enough for me to wipe away some of the remaining blood.
"You always saw the best in me."
He said it like he didn't deserve that, but his face didn't look like that. He looked more stunned than anything. Shocked that I would stay or shocked at the sudden realization of his.
"Why are you staying," he asked.
"Because you're my friend," I replied, going to rinse some of the blood out of the washcloth. "And I care about you."
Dick didn't respond.
I looked back at him. "You're my best friend, Dick. You saved my life; you helped me find a purpose. I'm going to stay by your side. You are officially stuck with me."
A grin crossed his lips. I smiled back at him.
I put the washcloth down before moving to hug him tightly. He hugged me back.
At the end of every day, no matter what, it was the two of us.
And that was all that mattered to me in the end.
long story short
And he's passing by Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky And he feels like home If the shoe fits, walk in it Everywhere you go
I never thought that I would be one to call Gotham "peaceful".
However, after so much had happened with Jonathan Crane and Jason, I would be wrong to say that there wasn't some kind of peacefulness that took over the city.
As soon as that peace settled, the team decided that it was time to head back to San Francisco. Back to the old base.
I smiled at the group climbing into the R.V. that Dick had managed to get without any of us noticing. I turned back to hug the few that were staying behind. I blinked back a few tears before heading to the R.V.
"Ready to go," Dick asked.
I nodded.
He closed the door to the compartment under the R.V. before smiling back at me. I smiled back.
Gotham felt peace when Crane had been taken down. I felt peace when I knew that Dick was safe.
He gave me the chance to stop fighting for a little bit. I didn't feel a need to hide things from him. I felt like I could share anything with him. He wouldn't judge me or share it with other people. He made me feel at home.
"Dick," I said before he could climb into the R.V.
"Yeah?"
I walked over quickly before leaning over to press my lips to his. It was only a matter of seconds before I pulled away again.
"Sorry," I mumbled, going to get into the R.V.
"Hey," he grabbed my hand.
He leaned over and kissed me again. It was just a few seconds longer than the first kiss. He grinned when he pulled away.
I took a deep breath and grinned back at him. "I... I love you."
"I love you too."
There was no hesitance in his voice. It made me look down as my face warmed up.
"Come on," he mumbled, pulling on my hand. "The rest of the team is waiting for us."
I followed him on to the R.V.
We were met by obnoxiously loud cheering from the rest of the team. I covered my face with my hands before plopping into my seat. Dick pulled the door shut before laughing to himself and getting in the driver's seat.
We looked at each other for another moment before Dick looked forward again. I bit my lip and looked out the window.
It felt freeing.
For once in my life, I felt truly free.
Everything Has Changed
'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" And your eyes look like coming home All I know is a simple name Everything has changed
--third person--
It was easier to convince Bruce to reinstate the Titans than Dick thought it would be.
Bruce had two major requests. One was Jason to join the team. The other was for Dick to meet someone that Bruce had run into a few times while doing his work. All he asked was for Dick to see if they would be a valuable member of the team.
Dick agreed to a meeting.
It didn't take long for (Y/n) to make it to Wayne Manor. They hadn't known about Bruce being Batman, but they didn't have time to ask many questions before Bruce greeted them and led them into another room.
Dick stood up when (Y/n) walked in.
Neither one of them could explain it, but something changed. Shifted around them.
There was a pause before (Y/n) could pull themself together long enough to introduce themself. Dick blinked a few times before shaking their hand.
(Y/n)'s mind went back to every romantic film they had ever seen. Rom-coms and Disney movies. All of the times they had heard about love at first sight. They felt silly for ever considering the idea, but they were having trouble denying what was happening right in front of them.
Dick tried to ignore how it felt like the breath was knocked out of him. His grin was a bit awkward. He would think about it a minute later, fearing that (Y/n) saw the grin as fake. But in the moment, he could only think about how dumb he felt with his heart beating as fast as it was.
If Bruce noticed the pair's behavior, then he didn't make it known.
The three of them talked for a while. Bruce talked about the work (Y/n) had down. (Y/n) looked away from Dick, feeling embarrassed by Bruce's rambling.
It was well known in that moment that Dick and (Y/n) would work well together.
And, in the end, the rest was history.
---------------------------
Navigation Guide
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
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deanwinchesterswitch · 7 months
Text
August 2023 Fic Rec List
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A variety of fandoms. A bit of angst and smut, and a good amount of comfort and fluff.
Enjoy!
Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume; heed the warnings for each fic.
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~DCU~
No Title ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Rick Flag x Reader)
~MCU~
No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Will You? ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author’s Summary: None (Drabble; Bucky Barnes x Reader)
~Star Trek~
Sweet Emotions ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Jim Kirk x Reader)
~Supernatural~
All I Need is You ~ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior. Author's Summary: A terrible day has stolen Y/N's joy, can Dean bring it back?
All In or All Out? ~ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior. Author's Summary: Dean needs an answer.
All That Matters ~ @iprobablyshipit91. Author's Summary: None (Dean Winchester x Female Reader)
Black Hole ~ @jay-and-dean. Author's Summary: She saved his life, and since then, she doesn’t want to live anymore… That doesn’t make sense… (Dean x Reader)
Brick by Brick ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)
Cracks In The Plaster ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: After a long day in the car, Dean’s got plans to relieve a little tension…
Devour Me-Part 1 ~ @zepskies. Author's Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)
Hotel California Masterlist ~ @muchamusedaboutnothing. Author's Summary: What first appears to be a reprieve on a long stretch of desert road turns out to be more than the Winchesters bargained for.
No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)
No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)
No Title ~ @supernaturalfreewill. Author’s Summary: None (Drabble; Jody Mills)
Now and Then Masterlist ~ @thinkinghardhardlythinking. Author's Summary: Y/N and Dean met a few years ago, both lost in the uncertainty of their lives which were so far from what they had hoped for them to be, but love affairs end, some with heartbreak. Y/N moves on but when her new life sends her crashing back into Dean’s orbit, she wonders if, for her, it will ever truly be over.
Sam Is Wearing Green Today ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Sam Winchester x Reader)
The Sweet Things ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)
Washed Away ~ @wearywinchester. Author's Summary: Dean helps you shower after a rough hunt.
~Top Gun: Maverick~
Live In My Memory, You'll Always Be There ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: Not long after moving to San Diego with your fiancé, Jake, he’s declared missing in action. The Dagger Squad rallies around you as you grieve his loss, and you grow closer to one particular member of the team than you ever imagined.
On AO3
Gone Too Long ~ @wayward-and-worn Drabble Series
Beau Arlen x Reader ~ Author's Summary: What happens when Beau is away from her for too long.
Benny Lafitte & Reader ~ Author's Summary: This is what happens when you keep them from their lover.
Dean Winchester/Reader ~ Author's Summary: This is what happens when he's away from her too long.
Soldier Boy x Reader ~ Author's Summary: Set in the same timeline as “Old Habits” but taking place in the time before Soldier Boy’s “disappearance.”  He’s back from a mission and he doesn’t want Countess.  He wants her. 
On Patreon
Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)
Another War ~ Author's Summary: Sam and Bucky are continuously bickering... even in the bedroom. (Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, F!Reader)
Keep Watching ~ Author's Summary: The journey is a long one and Y/N is tired of waiting for some fun... (Dean x F!Reader, Sam)
Stay With Me ~ Author’s Summary: Dean is into his second bottle of whiskey, desperate to drive his problems away. But he knows deep down, the booze isn't what he truly needs... (Dean Winchester x F!Reader)
Tremble Like a Flower ~ Author’s Summary: Soldier Boy likes to keep you for himself, using you whenever he feels the need to release a little extra tension... (Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader)
thinkinghardhardlythinking
Someone To Watch Over Me-Parts 23 & 24 ~ Author’s Summary: (AU) Y/N is married to a very rich, decidedly unscrupulous and powerful man.  A man whose inability to trust means he hires someone to watch over his wife while he isn’t around. He hires Dean Winchester, a handsome stranger to Y/N, who is soon to become a very big part of her life.
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whatsnewalycat · 2 years
Text
Just Dumb Enough to Try
Chapter 7: Good Vibrations
Word Count: 3.8k
Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: angst, swearing, smoking, alcohol use, pining, existential crisis, mental health spiral, attempts at jokes, sexual tension, cheating, boner in public bc i'm an asshole, emotional abuse
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Series Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it's 1998 and you're starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.
Chapter Summary: Our heroes go on a double date to the beach.
Notes: Chapter title from the masterpiece "Good Vibrations" by The Beach Boys. Fun fact: Brian Wilson spent 7 months and $400,000 USD in today's money producing Good Vibrations. It took 90 hours in the studio and 70 hours of tape to make it. I love The Beach Boys. ANYWAAAY - let's go to the beach and get an awkward boner. Spotify playlist for this chapter. Cross-posted to AO3 here (UN: glitter_diety). Update weekly on Sundays.
[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ]
Lake Casa Blanca, Laredo, TX
June 13, 1998
“You wanna grab the towels, babe?” Dan calls to you as he and Javi haul the cooler onto the beach. Kim swings a beach bag over her shoulder and slams the back hatch of your car closed after you grab the stack of towels.
The beach is crowded with people of all shapes and sizes. The guys find an unoccupied area on in the sand and plop the cooler down as you and Kim trail behind, side by side. She’s wearing a loose white t-shirt dress that’s so sheer you can see her red one piece swimsuit through it. Her long tousled chestnut brown hair is spilling down her back. She is the living, breathing, embodiment of Baywatch.
You look ahead to see Dan and Javier each grabbing a beer out of the cooler and taking their t-shirts off. Thankfully, you're wearing dark-tinted sunglasses, which hide the fact that you're gawking at the men. It’s obvious that Dan exercises regularly; his muscles fill out his tall frame. He’s tan and his beachy blond hair makes him look like a boy band dream boat. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from drinking in Javier in the full light of day. He looks so… soft, but also strong. Which, you think, is fitting.
Despite the view, this whole situation leaves you feeling like you would rather eat glass than be here, honestly.
You and Dan met Kim at the Pour House last night. At some point, Javier walked in with Chucho. Javier popped over to say hello to you and Kim. He introduced himself to Dan. You were able to yada-yada a reasonable explanation for how you and Javi met, which was close to the truth anyway.
"We met through my roommate in San Antonio a few years ago," you spelled out, looking over at Javi, catching his eyes, which made your heart jump into your throat, "We all hung out a few times. It was so bizarre to run into him again here, though."
Later, Kim jumped on the opportunity to invite him to go to the beach the next day.
"Like a double date," she told him.
The thought of him at a beach is amusing to you. He’s almost always in some variation of the same outfit: jeans, button-up, work boots. You wonder if he’s a speedo guy, because it’s entirely possible.
The mystique of seeing him in an environment this out-of-context almost makes it worth the complete misery of watching Kim flirt with him. She was batting her eyelashes and touching his arm while laughing at everything he said. He leaned into it, being the insatiable flirt that he is.
On top of that, Dan put his arm around you possessively and barely allowed you to speak the whole time Javier was near. You would start to chime in, and Dan would cut you off. Eventually you gave up on having a good time.
Javier, for what it’s worth, dismissed himself from the table shortly after you stopped engaging. He spent the rest of his time sitting at the bar with Chucho, frequently observing you from afar with eyebrows drawn together, jaw set, lips pursed.
“Question…” Kim states while you’re trudging through the sand, “Why did you ask me about Javier that one night if you already knew him?”
You choke out, “What? Oh… I, um, didn’t realize that was him. Neither of us recognized each other for weeks, it was weird.”
“Hmm interesting, ok,” she puts her hand on your arm in a reassuring manner, “Such a small word, like, oh my god, what are the odds?”
You reach the claimed spot and set the towels next to the cooler, keeping one to spread out on the hot sand. Dan takes off towards the water’s edge. Kim pulls the t-shirt dress over her head and discards it next to the towel you laid out.
“You coming, Javi?” she calls with a wink while following Dan to the lake.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he waves back to her.
“It’s so fucking hot out,” you observe while unbuttoning your high-waisted Jean shorts and shimmying them down your thick thighs. You glance over at Javier and notice he’s staring at you, “What?”
“I- I like your swimsuit,” he says lamely.
You look down at your black string bikini, then back up at him, smirking, “I like yours, too. Slightly disappointed it’s not a Speedo but…”
He chuckles, opening the cooler, “Want a beer?”
“Holy shit, please.”
He grabs two, twists off the bottle caps, and hands one to you. You chug about half of it right away, because you may need liquid comfort to make it through this day.
You’re hot, but not ready to emerge yourself in water yet, so you sit down cross-legged on your beach towel. Javier grabs a towel, spreads it out next to yours, and lays down on his back, propping himself up on his elbows.
“So… you and Kim? I thought you weren’t interested,” you ask, shading your eyes eyes and squinting out into the water. Your vision is quite poor, so you can’t tell who is Kim and Dan, but you think you see a red blob out there somewhere, which is probably Kim.
“You sound jealous.”
You glare at him, “Shut up.”
“Does that mean you’re admitting you’re jealous?”
He looks so pleased with himself. Which is irritating. You roll your eyes.
I’ll never admit it. But also, maybe. Yes. Definitely yes.
He looks out into the water, then down to his beer bottle, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, too.”
“Jealous of what?” you scoff. It came out a little more bitter than you had intended. He doesn’t say anything in return, just watches you.
A sigh escapes your lips as you try to let the negative feelings go. You bask in the hot sun and the wind rolling off of the water, enjoying the calm, until you remember that you haven’t applied sunblock. Cursing to yourself, you fish the tube of sunblock out of the bag next to you, open it with a pop, and start trying to rub it onto your face, neck, and shoulders.
As you’re struggling to get all the parts of your shoulders, Javi laughs, “Do you need help?”
You bite your lip and consider whether or not you’ll be able to keep yourself from coming undone if he touches you for longer than a moment. The memory of his warm, rough hands squeezing your tits while he begs you to fuck him replays in your memory, making your heart flutter and your face turn scarlet. Your hands tingle as you hand the sunblock over to him.
“Dan isn’t going to come over here and kill me for touching you, is he?” Javier chuckles.
“If he didn’t want someone else to do it, he should have stuck around to help me,” you grumble, “Should I lay down?”
“Sure.”
You flip around to lay on your belly, propping your head up on your forearms and closing your eyes.
You hear him squeeze some of the goop out of the tube. He asks, “You ready?”
A hum from your lips indicates yes, but you quiver in anticipation of his touch. All the air leaves your lungs as he places his hands on your shoulders and starts rubbing the sunblock around. He moves slowly and tenaciously, working his fingers over every inch, seeming to savor the skin-to-skin contact as much as you are. He gets to your lower back and grazes both sides of your waist. You surprise yourself by letting out a small moan and arching your back ever so slightly. He freezes for a second, then continues on until he reaches your bottoms.
“Do you want me to get your legs too?” he asks shakily.
You revel in the intoxication of the contact, desperately wanting it. “If- if you want to," you say softly.
“I’m asking you,” he responds firmly.
You gulp, “Yes.”
He squeezes more product into his hands and starts applying it, working up from your feet. His digits are sliding over the sensitive skin of your knees and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning again. Goosebumps break out once he reaches your upper thigh.
You gasp when his fingers trail along your bikini bottom, dangerously close to your inner thigh. You hear him move away from you and clasp the sunblock closed.
“I think that’s the best I can do.” He rasps. You roll over on your side, facing him, and he has folded his knees up towards his chest.
You roll over to your back, open the sunblock, and continue to apply it to your front side. First your arms, the fronts of your legs. You move at a lazy pace, dazed and slightly embarrassed of yourself.
Could I be more of a weirdo?
It seems like Javi is staring at you again, but it’s hard to tell with the sunglasses hiding his eyes. He looks far away and pained.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable ,” you mumble quietly while starting on your soft belly. You hope he doesn’t press you for more words because you really don’t want to say “ hey friend, sorry for getting turned on when you put sunblock on me” out loud.
His head jerks backwards and he frowns, “It did not make me uncomfortable, cariño.” He looks around, you’re assuming to check on the whereabouts of your fiancé, and looks back down at you as you reach your chest. His face looks tortured… and you understand.
Oh. Ohhh.
“You… look uncomfortable,” you tease, then let your fingers tips slide just a bit into your bikini top, making sure every spot of you is covered.
You feel the need coming off of him in waves as he tilts his head at you and practically pouts. You grin devilishly. He shakes his head, “You’re killing me.”
When he shifts a bit to get more comfortable, then reverts back to hugging his knees, your eyes wander down to his swim trunks. It’s not super noticeable if you’re not trying to see, but you catch a glimpse of the bulge straining against the fabric. You practically drool thinking about what it would be like to suck him off… for him to fuck your throat… what his cum tastes like…
Fuck me.
You avert your eyes as to remain undetected, but can’t help it when your whole body becomes flushed and jittery. It’s suddenly too fucking hot for you to be laying in the sun.
“Where are those Bakers?“ you sit up and look around, capping the sunblock with a pop. He points to a volleyball court down the beach a ways. You shade your eyes with one of your hands and mumble, “I don’t even know why I ask, I can’t see shit.”
“At least I think that’s where they are. I can’t see shit either,” he confesses, then squints, “I think Kimmy is that red… person in red over there.”
“Fucking blind leading the blind," you mutter and look back to him, “Wanna get in the water, or are you gonna play volleyball too?”
Or do you need more time for your raging boner to die down?
“If you want to swim, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Yep, you need more time for your raging boner to die down.
You pull yourself to your feet and dust the sand off your body. As you amble by them, you compliment the sandcastle some children are building. By the time you reach the shore, which isn’t more than 30 seconds later, it feels like you’re walking on molten lava.
One foot plunges into the water, then the other. Sweet relief. You wade forward, enjoying the feeling of soft sand squishing between your toes. It reminds you of time you spent on the lake at your dad’s cabin back in Minnesota. Once you’re deep enough, you hold your breath and let yourself sink completely underwater. There’s a great quiet all around you. Your skin gets over the initial shock of the temperature change and acclimates to the cold lake. When you can’t hold yourself under any longer, you emerge and float onto your back.
The sky above you is bright blue and cloudless. Sun rays kiss your exposed skin. Your eyes flutter shut. Children chatter and squeal with joy in the distance. You even hear the volleyball players yelling at each other further down the beach.
This is fucking bliss .
Water sloshes around as someone approaches you slowly. You crack open one eye.
“Feeling better?” you ask Javier, who is wading in your direction (sans tent in his swim trunks).
He sinks down to his shoulders so his face is level with yours, a few feet away, “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you smirk, “Just thought you might need some time to umm… cool down?”
He shakes his head and scoffs, “Ok, so you saw.”
“I hardly know what you’re talking about," you snicker.
He splashes you in the face playfully, which makes you flinch and sit up.
“Giggle all you want,” he moves closer to you and pulls his sunglasses on top of his head, “But I heard you. I think you liked it.”
You splash him back playfully, “You didn’t hear shit , Javi.”
“Oh, no?” He moves even closer, just a foot away from you, voice so low and quiet he’s practically growling, “I didn’t hear you moan ? When I touched you here?” His hands grasp either side of your waist, thumbs caressing your abdomen for emphasis, sending a jolt of electricity across your body.
You gasp, “Javi-“
His eyes flash hot, watching you squirm as his hands linger on your body underwater, trailing down to your hips, where he tightens his grip. The pressure sends a wave of pleasure through your body and makes your knees go weak. Your lips part as a small whimper escapes your throat. He inhales sharply, then utters, “I didn’t hear shit, huh?”
“M-maybe I did like it,” you admit. He doesn’t move his hands from your body. In fact, he pulls your hips a little closer to him.
Or am I doing that?
He rotates the two of you so his broad back is facing the shore and you’re concealed from view. Your hands find his chest and your fingers splay across his skin. The muscles underneath twitch and he groans.
Are you just as hungry for touch as me?
“What the fuck are we doing?” you whisper, finally acknowledging that the two of you are doing something . Dancing around it. Playing dumb. Passing a time bomb back and forth with every look that lingers too long, each touch that feels too good, all the flirting that only occurs when everyone else is at a distance.
Javier shakes his head, then exhales-
And a volleyball skids across the water, settling a few yards behind you. Your heart leaps from your chest and you kick yourself backwards away from him to go get it. Once you get ahold of the ball and turn around, you see Kim and Dan wading up to Javier. Javi turns around and greets them. He stands up and gives a side hug to Kim, who places her hand on his chest and keeps it there while laughing melodically at something Javier says.
A rage bubbles up inside of you that is truly not even logical, what the fuck.
You plaster a smile on when you return with the ball and ask Dan, “Did your team win?”
Dan wades over to you and takes dominion over the ball.
“Did our team win?” he scoffs, “Course we won, babe. Kicked their asses.” Then he plants an unexpected kiss on your lips, making you squeal and jump back.
“We’re playing again in a few minutes if you guys want to join!” Kim says, looking between you and Javi.
Your eyes flick to Javier and he looks… pained. Your guts twist into a knot.
“I think I’ll pass,” you inform them, which is not a surprise to anyone, explaining, “I want to draw a bit and swim while we’re here.”
“Shoulda figured. Javi? You in?” Dan asks.
Javier crosses his arms in front of himself and shakes his head, “No thanks.”
“Why not?” Kim questions, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t want to,” he shrugs. She glares at him and takes a step away.
“Really? Y’all are lame," Dan complains.
“It’s hot as fuck out, Dan. I’m surprised you were able to find anyone to play volleyball with you,” you observe while sinking back into the cool water, floating on your back and closing your eyes, “Just have fun. I’ll make sure Javier stays out of trouble.”
The Bakers concede and the four of you go inland to eat the lunch you packed in the cooler. Kim is obviously cross with Javier for not wanting to play volleyball, and he could give two shits less, which is amusing. You don’t say much because your head is occupied arguing with yourself:
We almost got caught. Caught doing nothing. It’s obviously something. But what is it? And what do we do now? How did I get here? Am I ruining my life? Am I saving my life?
But, thankfully, Dan and Kim share every play-by-play of their volleyball match, which doesn’t leave room for you or Javier to put a word in edgewise. Once they finish eating and drinking a beer, their new sporty friends are ready for a rematch.
Before leaving, Dan plants a kiss on your the forehead and quietly tells you to “not embarrass me now, ok?”
You sit up and nod once in acknowledgement, despite every atom in your body screaming fuck off.
Javier’s gaze is hard as it follows Dan. He sits down next to you, “What the fuck did he just say to you?”
“Nothing, never mind it,” you wave it off with a reassuring smile, but avoid eye contact. He grumbles under his breath in response. Ignoring it, you ask, “Can I bum a smoke?”
He wordlessly hands you a cigarette out of his pack and lights it for you. You look off into the water and sigh because you know more questions are coming.
“Is he always like that?” Javier asks gently.
“Not really… I mean, not at home at least.”
He waits a minute before continuing, “And what is he like at home?”
You blow a raspberry trying to recall what he’s like at home. Not there, you suppose. Or if he is home, he ignores you largely. Sometimes he talks with you, checking in with you, occasionally picking little fights, initiating sex, and telling you about things he's planning to do. There are nice things he does for you… like the way he gets your coffee ready in the morning before leaving, leaves you money to do things, buys you flowers. He can be really sweet.
“I don’t- we don’t have to talk about this,” You shake your head and put out the cigarette in the hot sand.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he raises his eyebrows.
“No,” you say firmly. He nods.
You take off your sunglasses, dig your drawing pad and pencils out of the beach bag, then stretch out onto your stomach facing Javier. He pulls out a book and flips it open to a dog-eared page about 1/4 the way through.
“Do you mind if I sketch you?” you look up through your eyelashes at him.
He lowers his book and furrows his brow, “Sketch me ?”
You nod. He looks… bewildered.
“I- I guess not, go ahead. But why?”
“I think that…” you flip to the first blank page you can find, considering your next words carefully, “you… are very handsome… and I would like to draw you.”
“I can’t argue with that kind of flattery," he grins down at you, “Do I need to move?”
“No, you’re perfect just like that,” you smile.
And you think that maybe… you were able to make him blush. Which makes you absolutely giddy.
While you sketch, the two of you talk intermittently about the book he’s reading. You try not to interrupt, but, c’mon, it’s Christine by Stephen King. He tells you that he read IT after watching the miniseries with you, and has picked up some of Stephen King's books every now and again. This fills your heart with pride. You didn't even think he remembered watching IT with you.
Your eyes flick over the top of the drawing pad to his face, “You should take off your sunglasses so I can get your eyes.”
He obliges, pulling the sunglasses up onto his head. The dark eyes search your face, eyebrows settling, softly knit together. He folds the corner of his page in the novel, then sets it down beside him.
“Sorry, you don’t have to look at me, you can keep reading if you want,” you tell him while concentrating on your pencil to paper.
“I’d like to keep looking at you,” he husks, “if that’s ok.”
Your face instantly turns red and you laugh nervously. You gather the courage to raise your eyes to his, “Of course.”
The quiet that settles is natural and comfortable. Your chest tightens each time you look up for reference and his eyes are already glued to you. It seems as though he’s studying you meticulously, which would normally make your skin crawl, but it doesn’t feel like you’re under a microscope. He asks questions about the artsy fartsy projects you've been getting into now that you're a homemaker. There’s no judgment present. It feels more like he’s learning you.
“Done,” you’re able to tell him eventually. You hand the drawing over to him. He smiles from ear-to-ear and you could just barf it’s so beautiful. He has fucking dimples . He raises a hand to his mouth and lets out a laugh. You laugh, too.
“This is amazing,” he grins up at you, “Thank you.” You steal one of his smokes, light it, and sit upright. He hands the drawing back to you and you tuck it away.
The second you finish the drawing, you start ruminating on this thing between you and Javier. You’re acting like horny teenagers that regret making a vow of celibacy. Finding loopholes that you know aren’t right.
Before you can start processing these feelings out loud, Javi interrupts your thoughts, “What movie are you going to see this Wednesday?”
Your face scrunches up in contemplation, “I’m not sure yet. The Truman Show looks good?”
“Do you want company?”
“That depends,” you squint and tap your finger to your chin, “Your company?”
“Obviously,” he scoffs.
You lean towards him and bite your lip, “I suppose.”
“Can I maybe… take you out to dinner afterwards?” he asks.
Your heart is pounding. A grin spreads across your face, “That would be lovely.”
He returns your smile, “It’s a date.”
[ Next Chapter ]
155 notes · View notes
doumekiss · 1 year
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My personal favorites of 2022
Books (Fiction)
Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint (Singshong)
The Murderbot Diaries Series (Martha Wells)
In other Lands (Sarah Rees Brennan)
Nona The Ninth (Tamsyn Muir)
Carrie Soto is Back (Taylor Jenkins Reid)
Nettle and Bone (T. Kingfisher)
The Nobleman's Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks (Mackenzi Lee)
A Wizard's Guide to defensive Baking (T. Kingfisher)
The Iliad (Homer)
The Odyssey (Homer)
Tracy Flick Can't Win (Tom Perrotta)
Amber and Clay (Laura Amy Schlitz)
Nothing to see here (Kevin Wilson)
Sorrow and Bliss (Meg Mason)
Sea of Tranquility (Emily St. John Mandel)
Books (Non-fiction)
Nothing to Envy : Ordinary Lives in North Korea (Barbara Demick)
Empire of Pain : The Secret History of The Sackler Dynasty (Patrick Radden Keefe)
On the move : a life (Oliver Sacks)
The Road to Jonestown : Jim Jones and The Peoples Temple (Jeff Guin)
This is going to hurt (Adam Kay)
Voices from Chernobyl : The Oral History of a Disaster (Svetlana Alexievich)
Rogues : True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks (Patrick Radden Keefe)
Mean Baby (Selma Blair)
An Anthropologist on mars (Oliver Sacks)
I'm glad my mom died (Jennette McCurdy)
Killers of the flower moon (David Grann)
Awakenings (Oliver Sacks)
Last Night at the Viper Room (Gavin Edwards)
The Man who mistook his wife for a hat (Oliver Sacks)
Cultish : The Language of Fanaticism (Amanda Montell)
Mangas/Manwhas/Comics
Dungeon Meshi (Ryoko Kui)
Witch Hat Atelier (Kamome Shirahama)
Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint (Singshong, Sleepy-C)
Sousou no Frieren (Tsukasa Abe, Kanehito Yamada)
Beware The Villainess (Bbongdda Mask)
The Trash of The Count's Family (Yoo Ryeo Han)
The S-Classes I Raised (Geunseo)
Fun Home (Alison Bechdel)
Semantic Error (Jeo SuRi, Kim Angy)
I think our son is gay (Okura)
Villain Initialization (CuZn Moyou Tangman Culture)
Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon (Coolkyousinnjya)
Couple of Mirrors (Li Zongchen)
Antique Bakery (Fumi Yoshinaga)
Sign (Ker)
TV Shows
Severance - S01
Yellowjackets - S01
Interview with the vampire - S01
Abbott Elementary - S01-S02
The Sandman - S01
Taskmaster - S12-S14
Spy x Family - S01
Dexter : New Blood - Minisseries
Our Flag Means Death - S01
Ghosts - S01-S02 (US)
Kevin Can Fuck Himself - S02
Kotaro Lives Alone - S01
Bocchi The Rock - S01
Chernobyl - Minisseries
Beastars - S01-S02
Movies
Pearl
Encanto
Fire Island
Everything Everywhere All at Once
X
What did you eat yesterday : The Movie
Perfect Blue
Bright Lights
Luca
House of Gucci
The Last Duel
The Eyes of Tammy Faye
Spiderman : No Way Home
Class Action Park
Our Father
52 notes · View notes
moonlit-imagines · 2 years
Text
Titan Slayer
Donna Troy x Batsibling!reader
warnings: blood, death mentions, guns, blades,
a/n:
prompt: anonymous: “Reader is Dick Grayson's younger sister and is dating Donna Troy, Deathstroke (Slade Wilson) kidnaps her instead of Jason and the team go looking for her. Only to find her beaten and bloody, Donna and Dick go after Slade.”
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“Hey, have you heard from y/n in the past few hours?” Donna asked as she stared at the last message you sent her, scrolling past the next few messages she sent that hadn’t even been read yet. It wasn’t like you to ignore her like this, she felt that something was off.
“Hmm…no, I haven’t.” Dick checked his phone for any texts or calls, shaking his head. “What’s the last thing they said to you?” Donna held her phone over to show him.
Gotta take care of something really quick, love you. He read your message and frowned.
“I know what that means.” Dick ran his hand down his face, pausing over his mouth while he started thinking, trying to get to the bottom of this. “What time was that?”
“About three hours ago.” Donna’s worry steadily increased every moment Dick silence lingered. “Dick? Does y/n still have their tracker from Bruce?”
“We took them out together when we first got back here.” He smacked his lips and Donna rolled her head back, both racking their brains for a solution. Dick walked off, heading towards the computer without warning, leaving your girlfriend to nervously go after him in hopes that he had a plan. Her’s would be to tear the city apart looking for you, but he was much more calculated here. He wouldn’t risk a moment with you in potential danger like this. “The best I can do is track their phone, maybe we’ll get some answers.” The clacking of the keyboard filled them both with dread, and the loading of the screen only made it worse.
LAST KNOWN LOCATION: 2 HOURS, 14 MINUTES AGO
“Shit!” Donna slammed her fists on the desk and tried to storm out, but Dick grabbed her by the wrist before she made any rash decisions. “Let me go, Dick. I have to find y/n.”
“I know, but you aren’t the only one who cares about them. Who loves them.” Dick slowly let her go once she reluctantly nodded at him, letting her cross her arms and look up at the monitor. “If this was y/n’s last known location, then their phone was either turned off, broken, or…”
“…Or they’re underground.” Donna set the map location on her phone and walked off. “If you’re gonna suit up, do it now. We have to go.” There was sternness is her voice and urgency in her movements, Dick knew that if he didn’t move right now she’d leave without him and do whatever it takes to find you. She’d march down the streets of San Diego and let nothing get in her way. “Are you coming?!”
“Yeah, let’s just go.” Dick got up and left as he was. He knew that she felt like she was reliving the worst days of her life again. Deathstroke was behind this and they both knew it deep down. You were smarter than this, maybe you had no intention of engaging but things went south. Maybe Slade caught you—oh, god, they hoped so badly that he hadn’t caught you. Or worse.
While they had been searching for you, your phone pinged once more. “They’re phone is back on.” Donna showed him. “They’re moving.”
“Call them. Maybe they’re okay.” Dick and her waited as the line rung, nervously awaiting your answer. Then it stopped.
“Hello? Y/N?” Donna asked, almost relieved that there was an answer.
“Hello, Wonder Girl. Looking for someone?” Slade’s gruff voice came through the speaker and their stomachs both dropped.
“Slade…” Dick froze in place, knowing his worst fears were just confirmed. “Where are they?”
“They’re alive. For now.” He answered, a dry chuckle to follow. “But you’d better get here soon, don’t you agree?”
“If you so much as lay a finger on them, I will break every bone in your body.” Donna’s threats were amusing to him.
“A bullet’s not a finger.” Slade told her and brought ever bad memory back in an instant. “And Boy Wonder? Every heard the saying, ‘an eye for an eye and blood for blood’?” Dick snatched the phone from Donna’s hands before she crushed it.
“I swear to God, if you hurt them—” He paused as soon as he heard you scream. “Slade! You son of a bitch!” Bystanders overheard his outburst and looked his way as they passed him by. “You’ve made a huge mistake. We’re coming for you.”
“Looking forward to it.” Slade taunted and hung up the phone call. All Dick could see was red, he could not bare to be the reason he lost his own sibling, the reason another person was lost in this war. Slade was the reason his life fell apart, and if he took any more from him…
Donna had already lost one love because of Slade. After Garth was shot down, she could never let go of the guilt. He was there because of her, she made so many rash decisions that led him to his end. Now you were in his clutches and he was determined to get back at the Titans, he’d go to any end to destroy this team, this family. He’d ruin all of you for satisfaction alone.
“Let’s go. They stopped moving again.” Donna pulled him away from the crowd of concerned civilians, pushing on to find you. Her heart was racing, her grip getting stronger.
“Ow! Donna, let go. We’ll find them.” He assured her emptily, taking out his own phone to track you. “It’s a few blocks away, we’ll make it.”
“You really believe that?” She snapped at him. “You’re acting awfully calm for someone whose sibling is walking the edge of a fucking knife right now. I can’t lose them! You can’t lose them! So start taking this seriously!”
“You think I’m not taking this seriously? I’m trying to keep a level head! I’m fucking terrified and you’re wasting my goddamn time arguing with me. We find y/n, that’s our first priority.” Dick held up the tracker and pointed to the stationary red dot. “This is all we have. All we know.” Donna rolled her eyes and continued on, stomping down the street, an earthquake in every step. Blocks away you were helplessly awaiting their rescue, muffled cries through your gag as Slade approached you.
“Crying? Really? I thought you Bats were supposed to be stronger than this.” He pulled the cloth from your mouth and you spat in his face.
“The tears aren’t for me and you know it.” You sniffled as the sweat, blood, and tears mixed on your cheeks. “You’re gonna be sorry.”
“I have nothing to be sorry for. If I felt sorry, I’d have gotten out of this line of work a long time ago.” Deathstroke unsheathed his sword and polished it off. “You and I are done here. For now. I wonder if you’ll bleed out before your friends get here.”
“My family.” You corrected him just before he shoved the gag back into your mouth.
“You don’t deserve family. Your ‘family’ took mine away.” Slade slapped you across the face and made his exit, leaving you for dead unless Dick and Donna could get there in time. And you were starting to fade in and out, dark spots in your vision, a horrible dizzy spell you fought back as hard as you did with your restraints. But breathing became it’s own battle and as it got shallower, your head fell forward and hung low once you lost consciousness.
Dick and Donna had searched high and low for you, finally finding you in the basement of an abandoned building. You were tied to a chair, beaten senseless and covered in blood. More importantly, you weren’t awake. Dick ran to you and checked your pulse. “Their pulse is weak.” He told her, who gently grabbed your face, pulled out the cloth stuffed in your mouth, and tapped your cheek.
“Y/N. Y/N, wake up.” She whispered gently, getting more impatient every second. Dick started on your binds while she continued. “Y/N! Wake up!” One good shake was all it took, taking you right back to Earth, where you felt an intense amount of pain. Everywhere. But especially your stomach.
“Fuck!” You cried, clutching to your abdomen and feeling the wet blood that soaked your black shirt. When you pulled your stained hand away, Donna’s eyes went wide.
“Dick?” Donna caught his attention to show him your wound, noticing you wouldn’t stay conscious or alive for much longer. It was hard enough to look at you when you were in so much pain, the bursted blood vessel in your eye, the cuts and bruises along your body, the blood dripping from your broken nose and trailing between your teeth. And now the injury that was life and death. Dick saw the blood on your hands and lifted the lower part of your shirt to fully reveal the stab wound, following it all the way to your back, where an exit wound was slowly leaking. “Take them to the Tower right now.”
“And what are you going to do?” Dick asked, watching her kiss your forehead and turn her back to the both of you.
“What do you think?” He had no way to protest, you were the most important thing to him right now. The number one priority. Dick lifted you gently from the chair and flat onto the floor.
“You’re gonna be okay, y/n.” He said to himself. “I’m right here.” While he got on his phone to call for backup, you reached for his hand and grasped it with all the energy you could muster up.
“I know.” You whispered as he made the call to Gar. His hand took yours a little tighter while he explained the situation and as you laid there awaiting a miracle, you faded out again. By the time your eyes fluttered open all you could see was fluorescent lighting and a couple silhouettes. “Where? Oh.” You started to put the pieces together. “So I’m alive.” You chuckled through the pain as Dick, Donna, Gar, and Rachel’s faces became clearer. They all looked so relieved to see you. “Hours or days?”
“Just hours. A couple of really long hours.” Dick leaned his chin on the side guard of your bed. “How you feeling?” He asked, peering up at Donna, who hadn’t said a word yet.
“Ow.” You muttered and reached your hand towards Donna, trying to get her to grab it. Her eyes were red, completely washed out from the hours before. You knew she’d been busy since you’d been out, you knew she was guilty, ashamed, scared, hurt. “Donna…hey.” You whispered and she slowly accepted your gesture.
“Maybe we should clear the room, guys.” Dick told Rachel and Gar, rubbing the top of your head as he said goodbye. “Feel better, y/n. I’m around if you need anything.” The three shuffled out of the infirmary and left you and Donna to it.
“What’d you do? You go after him?” You weakly asked and watched her look away. She took a seat beside you and shook her head.
“I tried. He disappeared on me.” Donna felt bad that she couldn’t get justice for you, but she was just relieved you were still with her. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”
“I’ve gone through worse.” You joked, trying not to laugh too hard in order to keep your stitches in place. “Remember—ow,” you sat up a bit, “remember when we were kids and Two-Face shot me twice? Now that sucked.”
“I sat with you the whole week you were on bedrest.” Donna chuckled and you felt you’d finally got her out of her rut. “I love you, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I love you, too.” You puckered your lips and got her attention. “Can’t move, come here, please.”
“You’re cute.” She leaned over and gave you a careful, tender kiss. “And I promise I’ll keep you safe from here on out…Just don’t go out on missions alone anymore. Please?”
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307 notes · View notes
turvi · 2 years
Text
Come Get Your Funky Lovestory
Pairings: Eddie Brock x Reader, slight Bucky x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic), Peter Parker x Reader (platonic)
Warning: Mention of death.
@preciousbabypeter
Whew, what a week! It was a rollercoaster. After everything went down, I kept close eyes on Peter. Even though he is an Avenger and everyone claims that he will be fine, I know he won’t be, because at one point I lost everything too. I was married when I first met Steve and Bucky in the 40s. Who knew my one wrong decision would lead me here.
After I lost my husband in the war, I took up the Hydra program for two years as means to earn money. I had a son Abel who now I had to look after and being a cook didn't give me enough income. But it was a domino effect after that. They had programmed the winter soldier to safe keep the Adaptoids. To make my escape, to find my son I had to fight the man for whom my feelings were growing, who was there to hold me when my world crumbled down, who kissed me that night at the carnival to keep my brain calm, and who gave me his jacket when it got chilly.
Steve was a big help (even though my hydra brain was initially trying to kill him) and after finding out my son was dead, after all the wars I just want a break. Not just for me but for Peter too. I can’t help but feel like a big sister to him. I tried to settle myself by getting a job in the Hell kitchen since that was what I did in the 40s. Yes, while the Avengers were trying to figure out how to defeat Thanos, I was perfecting Steak au Poivre.
While I thought I could rekindle my romance with Bucky it turned out fatal. I know he is trying but when you have spent 40 years with Winter Soldier it gets tough to explain your brain, he is not the same and it did break my heart to see him flirt with Sarah and here I thought if I will be able to fight away the thought that Bucky is not longer a threat to my life, we have a chance. But he didn’t even mention the kiss so I returned his jacket (to Sam I am not ready to have the conversation with Bucky why I still have his jacket).
I got an apartment that is surprise few blocks from where Peter is staying despite Sam and Bucky trying to change my mind and get me to stick with them and continue staying with Sam. I love them but even if I wanted to after my promotion to assistant chef, I had to move to New York full time and couldn’t slack like I used to because if I lose this job, I will lose my only source of income.
Peter was delighted to see me and I visit him time to time to check up on him, Bucky and Sam still think it is a bad idea to stay alone so far. I was told by my landlord that my neighbor has also moved in a week ago. Good we have something in common.
As I park my car near the building my phone buzzes. Bucky.
“Hey Buck”
“Hey Doll how is shifting going on?”
“It is hardly shifting Bucky I have one box with me I have to buy furniture so my neighbors don’t take me as a squatter.” I chuckled
“You met them?”
“No but I will meet them after I make them my special Chicken Cordon Bleu” I said taking my box out of the car. I think I should have asked Bucky for help because the box is quite big and kind of obstructing my view
“I feel like I am missing out, I could still come and help you doll”
I halted my movement at his words. This is what infuriates me about him. One moment he makes me feel like I am the most important person in his life and the next moment pretends I don’t exist.
“Oh shit” I scrunched my eyebrows when realisation hit me
“What happened Doll?” urgency in his voice
“I can’t make Chicken Cordon Bleu; I don’t know what their eating preferences are. I have to make something that can be eaten whatever their preference will be”
I said as I climbed the stairs leading to my apartment
“Also, I have been meaning to ask you what was Fury talking to you about? It looked quite serious”
“Well according to Fury, a parasite named Venom has been spotted in New York and has wreaked havoc in San Francisco and while I am taking my break I should also look out to any suspicious behaviour and bring him in”
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
“No definitely not, from what I have seen I’ll let Fury and his gang handle it I’ll just observe from far and not interact with the species and provide information to Fury. I think its quite easy nothing can go wrong –
I spoke too soon. Even before I could finish my sentence, I collided with someone causing me to lose my balance on my box but before it could slip the stranger took hold it his finger accidently brushing mine.
“I am so sorry I was distracted” I quickly apologised to the man in front of me. He is cute. His hair dishevelled, blue frowning eyes that quickly softened, tattoos on his arms, black leather jacket. He looks like bad news but he is cute.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking either” he said nervously chuckling
“I think I should help with that” He said pointing towards my box
“Oh no its just one box I can’t bother you with one box”
“It’s the most I can do given I just broke your bones” We both chuckle at his quip. Yeah, he is a burly man and has the ability to break my bones if I didn’t have superpowers.
“Doll?” Shit, I forgot about Bucky
“Uh, I will call after I get settled” I quickly cut my phone, he will understand.
He quickly took my box and started walking upstairs with me when he stopped again.
“What?”
“I-uh I forgot to ask your flat number”
“Its 313” I giggled. Since when did I giggle like this?
“313? I am in 314.”
“Oh, you are my new neighbour”
“Yeah, I just moved from San Francisco”  
“Oh, can I ask why?”
“Its not really a big deal I had my own news show, The Eddie Brock show but thought I needed a change so The Daily Bugle is my change”
We reached my flat as I fished for my keys, I asked him with a dopey smile
“Let me guess you are Eddie Brock”
He chuckled “Good girl, so smart” he quipped as shivers ran down my spine with his words. Gosh what is happening to me.
I opened the door and led him in. The apartment was quite cold and spacious. 
“No furniture?”
“Ugh well I just got promoted and lived somewhere not good so this apartment is the change in my life hence fresh furniture” I actually never got to live anywhere. After I was unfrozen by Zemo, I have been in one war after another.  
“What do you do?”
“I am working in Hell’s Kitchen just got promoted to Assistant Chef”
“Wow we should celebrate the great changes in our lives…. If you want to of course”
You know what fuck it
“Yeah definitely”
“Cool I’ll meet you on the rooftop the view is beautiful”
“Right now?”
“What better time than now?”
“Ok, I’ll freshen up and meet you upstairs” I can feel the heat on my cheeks for smiling for so long
“Ok, see you soon” he said with a big smile taking his leave
Wow that was unpredictable. I closed my distance with the door to lock it when Eddie peeped his head inside. Our faces were so close I could feel his breath on my cheeks
“Uh- I didn’t catch your name”
“Y/N Y/LN” 
Part 2
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Text
welcome to my blog!
requests: open
request answer speed: okay
(answer speed key:
great: within three days
fair: within one week
okay: within one month
poor: over one month)
undertale masterlist
marvel masterlist
fandoms I write for:
Undertale
Sans
Papyrus
Undyne
Toriel
Asgore
Mettaton
the following AUs (and all of these universes versions of the above characters):
UnderFell
UnderSwap
HorrorTale
ErrorTale
Inktale
DreamTale
UnderLust
DustTale
I'll write for other characters and AUs too, there's just too many to write. unsure? ask!
SCP
Jack Bright
Alto Clef
SCP-049
SCP-073
SCP-076
SCP-682
Merlin
Arthur Pendragon
Merlin
Gwaine
Leon
Percival
Morgana
Gwen
Marvel
(I won't write specific scenes from the movies, but I'll write other scenarios)
Tony Stark
Loki Laufeyson
Thor Odinson
Natasha Romanoff
Peter Parker
Steven Strange
Pietro Maximoff
Wanda Maximoff
Bucky Barnes
Wade Wilson
The Walking Dead
Negan Smith
Daryl Dixon
Glenn Rhee
Carl Grimes
Rick Grimes
Power Rangers
(more characters will be added as I rewatch the shows)
Jason Lee Scott
Tommy Oliver
Kimberly Hart
Billy Cranston
things I will write:
female reader
non-binary reader
male reader
x reader (romantic)
x reader (platonic)
x child! reader (will ALWAYS be platonic)
canon x reader
headcanons (for multiple characters, but please keeo them within the same fandom)
things I will NOT write:
smut (I will write suggestive things, though)
anything shipping minors with adults
SA
canon x OC
OC x OC
canon x canon
the following undertale aus:
swapfell
fellswap
glitchtale
lustfell
killertale
things I will SOON write:
Once Upon A Time
The Lord Of The Rings
i will write a fic based on a song (up to 3)
If you do not see something on this list that you would like to see, ask!
I have the right to decline any request that I am not comfortable with.
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thebisexualdogdad · 2 years
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can you write donna troy and daredevil reader hooking up
Donna Troy x Male!reader
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● you first met Donna when the Titans followed Deathstroke to New York 
● Wilson Fisk had enough of you meddling in his business and hired Slade to take you out for good
● they found you fighting Deathstroke in the middle of hells kitchen, giving you the assist 
● "you're the Titans right? I heard Fisk put a hit on me and figured you guys wouldn't be far behind Mr Wilson, thanks for the help" you say taking your mask off
● "Oh he's cute," Donna whispers to Kori
● "So I've been told," you chuckle and both girls are surprised, "I'm blind not deaf and all of my other senses including my hearing have been heightened" 
● you and Donna take a quick liking to each other and hook up before they leave New York 
● Dawn and Kori bug Donna for all the dirty details on the way back to San Francisco 
● you keep in touch after that talking on the phone nearly everyday 
● and a few weeks later make a trip out west to see her 
● you pretend like it's for work but everyone knows this trip is 25% work and 75% spending time with Donna 
● "are you sure he's even really a lawyer?" Gar asks
● "oh he's a lawyer alright, Bruce knows him and he got all the charges dropped that time Jason drove his first motorcycle through a bar," Dick says 
● "I knew I recognized him from somewhere, yeah that was impressive I really thought I was going to juvie again" Jason laughs
● neither one of you are at a place where you can relocate your lives to the other side of the country so instead you make monthly trips to see each other 
● the Titans know anytime you are in town not to bother Donna unless it's an emergency 
● your old friend Kingpin however is not happy to hear you're involved with a titan 
● "Great now not only do I have the defenders to deal with but now they are buddy buddy with the Titans, why did I ever hire that numbskull Deathstroke" 
● Donna was in New York visiting you and you guys along with Iron Fist knocked out an entire gang of Fisks henchmen 
● Danny "nice moves Donna, no wonder Y/N never stops talking about you" 
● "it doesn't hurt that she's easy on the eyes either" you tease giving her a kiss 
● with your crazy lives you take advantage of any lazy day in bed together you can get 
● "there's nothing better than waking up next to you Donna Troy" 
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redthreadoffate · 2 years
Text
likeevalikeeve’s mini-celebration
so i’m celebrating my 1,050 followers (i know it isn’t much compared to others but hey, i can be happy about it, right?)!
*more under the cut
wasn’t supposed to tag mutuals as to not disturb them, but... here we go! @trumpkinhotboy @angel-cap @everythingnerdyxoxo @mimatosstuff @himetsundere @dutchforstrangers @ri-ships-takari @tangledupblue @earlgreymon @ashandpikachu @singinprincess etc. no worries if you don’t want to participate! this is just a little thing. please tell me if you want to be removed!
as a thank you to those who follow me, and especially my mutuals, i will be accepting requests for any of these (i have the right to refuse though):
celebrities/influencers
anthony mackie x reader
ben hardy x reader
chris evans x reader
sebastian stan x reader
tom holland x reader
william moseley x reader
criminal minds
matt simmons x reader
spencer reid x reader
digimon
mimi tachikawa
hikari yagami
taichi yagami & sora takenouchi
yamato ishida & mimi tachikawa
takeru takaishi & hikari yagami
jianliang lee & ruki makino
koichi kimura
harry potter
george weasley & katie bell
oliver wood x reader
inception
ariadne
arthur & ariadne
eames x reader
law & order: special victims unit
sonny carisi x reader
marvel
bucky barnes x reader
sam wilson x reader
peter parker x reader
the chronicles of narnia
caspian x x reader
edmund pevensie x reader
peter pevensie & eva skye bellamy (*they’re my grandparents’ names, not mine)
top 30 animanga ships
akatsuki no yona - hak & yona
akkuma no riddle - tokaku azuma & haru ichinose
alice 19th - kyo wakamiya & alice seno
*bleach - ichigo kurosaki & orihime inoue
cells at work! - white blood cell & red blood cell
d.n. angel - daisuke niwa & riku harada
devils line - yuki anzai & tsukasa taira
digimon adventure - takeru takaishi & hikari yagami
*fate series - shirou emiya & rin tohsaka
ghost hunt - naru shibuya & mai taniyama
ginban kaleidoscope - pete pumps & tazusa sakurano
harukanaru toki no naka de - tenma morimura & akane motomiya
kamigami no asobi - apollon agana belea & yui kusanagi
kawaii dake ja nai shikimori-san - yuu izumi & micchon shikimori
*kaze no stigma - kazuma yagami & ayano kannagi
kenka bancho otome: girl beats boys - rintaro kira & hinako nakayama
koi to yobu ni wa kimochi warui - ryo amakusa & ichika arima
koroshi ai - ryang-ha song & chateau dankworth
la storia dell arcana famiglia - liberta & felicita
magic knight rayearth - lantis & hikaru shidou & eagle
mahoutsukai no yome - elias ainsworth & chise hotori
marmalade boy - yuu matsuura & miki koishikawa
shin shirayuki-hime densetsu pretear - hayate & himeno awayuki
shintei tantei yakumo - yakumo saito & haruka ozawa
*spy x family - damian desmond & anya forger
*tenkuu no escaflowne - van fanel & hitomi kanzaki
tesla note - kuruma tanaka & botan negoro
*yashahime: princess half-demon - hisui & setsuna
yu yu hakusho - yusuke urameshi & keiko yukimura
zombie-loan - chika akatsuki & michiru kita
(*super selected)
i will also be doing a top 30 + selected prompts thing, though I’m not going to do it everyday. i realized i’m too ambitious, hehe. so I’ll be doing this during my own free time. what i do need help with is which ships and prompts i should write for first; you can fill this form here.
and, another treat for anyone who wants, send me a “meet cute” prompt + a ship/reader insert (listed above) and i’ll write a super mini-fic about it (3-5 sentences). 
and for mutuals! send me a *🐾* and i’ll tell you my super first thought/s about you.
so that’s it! i know this wouldn’t be a big hit but hey, i tried, right? thank you!
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