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roosterforme · 10 months

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The Birthday Blues | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves celebrating your birthday. It's his favorite day of the year. But you're almost too upset to celebrate, and you don't seem to want to tell him why.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swears, mentions of trying to get pregnant

Length: 2800 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.

"Roo?" you mumbled when you thought you felt your husband touching you. Was it morning? Or were you still asleep? You must be having a dream, because you felt good. No, you felt fucking great.

"Happy birthday, Baby Girl."

You cracked your eyes open, searching for the source of your pleasure, and then you saw that Bradley was nestled between your thighs, eating your pussy.

"Oh!" you gasped. That's why you felt like you were melting into a pool of pleasure. Because you actually were. You watched Bradley's head bob slightly as he licked long, languid stripes along your pussy. The early morning light was turning his messy bedhead hair a pretty copper color, and when you pushed your fingers through it, he kissed your thigh before returning to his task.

It was your birthday. You were thirty one. And you were pretty sure he wasn't going to stop until you came at least one time on his face. So you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch the show.

"Is this my birthday present?" you whispered as Bradley's mustache brushed against your clit.

"Just one of many," he rasped before kissing his way up and down your slit. When you were sufficiently moaning for him, he wrapped those pretty lips around your clit while you played with his hair.

Each little flick of his tongue had you gasping and asking for more. But he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he was drawing this out on purpose. Every time your voice got higher in pitch, he eased back the pressure until you calmed down. And then he started all over again.

"Roo!" you whined, practically riding his face as he held your hips down on the bed. "Let me cum! It's my birthday!"

The devilish look he gave you should have been enough warning, but a minute later, he was fucking you with two fingers and sucking your clit just right. When you felt the prickle of his mustache on your skin, your head tipped back against the pillow, and you felt yourself squeezing his thick fingers as you whined his name until you were laying in a limp, boneless pile.

Then you felt his warm body weight on your sensitive skin as he kissed your lips. His mustache was wet, and he let you lick his face clean.

"I need to be on base in thirty minutes," he rasped, making no move to leave you or the bed. "Fuck, why didn't we take today off? It's the most important day of the year."

"Because we burned through all of our vacation time for our honeymoon," you reminded him.

"It was worth it," he whispered next to your ear before he climbed out of bed. You watched Bradley step into his flight suit before he disappeared into the bathroom. You desperately wanted to coax him back to bed, but you also really wanted Bradley to leave for work.

He kissed your lips one more time and said, "Birthday dinner at seven. I'll let Tramp out before I leave. I love you, Baby Girl."

And once he was gone, you dashed out of bed and into the bathroom. You dug around in the closet for the pregnancy tests you bought yesterday after work.

"Come on," you whispered, pacing around the bathroom and bedroom after you peed on the sticks. This could potentially be the best birthday present of your life, even better than a birthday morning orgasm from Bradley.

When your timer went off and you checked the tests, tears of frustration filled your eyes. You tossed the tests into the trash and got dressed for work.

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

It was actually unfair. Finding yourself on the verge of crying at work on your birthday shouldn't have been happening. And now as you sat in your office, swiping tears away, you realized you were just angry at yourself for taking the pregnancy tests in the first place.

But you had been trying for two months. And you'd spent the last decade trying your damnedest not to get pregnant. And if you knew there might have been something wrong, you'd have stopped taking birth control months ago. Because you and Bradley had been having very frequent sex for weeks now, and you felt like you were disappointing yourself and him, too.

You closed your computer and carried it down the hallway to your lab where your newest coworker Cat seemed to be having a great day. She was laughing with your other labmates just like you would normally be doing, but you weren't feeling like yourself. So you just kept your head down and got your work done.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, but you texted Bradley and told him you were simply too busy to make it down to the cafeteria for lunch today.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: really? everyone wanted to see you. i wanted to see you...

And then you started crying again. Because the negative pregnancy test was getting to you so much, you were letting Bradley down even more.

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

"I think you should wear the dress you wore on our first date," Bradley crooned next to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "You look so good in red."

You wiggled out of his grasp and finished unbuttoning your uniform shirt. As you removed your pins, you said, "Our first date was in the summer. It's too chilly out today."

Now he was looking at you like he was trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "I'll keep you warm. Or you can wear one of my sweatshirts over it if you want to. Or you can wear leggings and your oversized sweater. It's your birthday. And you're perfect. And you're going to look perfect."

But you really weren't perfect. You sighed and nodded at him. "I'll just throw on something casual. You said it doesn't matter what I wear."

You could tell he wanted you to wear that red dress. But you were feeling like punishing yourself for being in a bad mood on your own birthday. And you were bloated. Plus you'd gained a few pounds on the honeymoon and over the holidays. You'd look terrible in that dress right now. But Bradley just nodded his head once as you walked away from him. "Anything is fine, Baby Girl."

"Great," you muttered, pulling on the leggings and sweater. The car ride was painfully quiet, and as soon as he got on the highway, you knew where he was taking you. You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.

"Did I piss you off today?" he asked as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the hot sauce restaurant he'd taken you to on your first date.

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears you could once again feel. You were emotional because your period was starting, not because you were pregnant. And that thought was making more tears burn your eyes.

"Sweetheart, if you're not feeling it, we can go home," he assured you. "I won't be upset. I should have let you pick what you wanted to do today."

"No, it's fine, Roo. I love it here. You did good," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the excitement you usually felt when he surprised you with silly little things. Normally you would have been climbing across the seat to wrap your arms around him, excited that he brought you back here, but instead you climbed out your own door onto the sidewalk.

"Okay," he whispered a moment later, taking your hand in his larger one and kissing your fingers. "I'll let you order both meals and eat half of each one. I know you love doing that here." Bradley guided you inside as a smile found its way to your lips.

"I do love that," you told him. Soon you and he were sitting side by side in a booth, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pouring out little samples of various hot sauces onto your plate and tasting each one while Bradley sipped a beer. He helped you rank the bottles in order of deliciousness, and then you ate half of your meal and half of his.

"Let me buy you bottles of your top three draft picks," he joked, taking out his credit card to pay the bill and asking the waiter to add on a few bottles of the hot sauces you liked best.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered, kissing his cheek. This wasn't so bad. You'd get over this sadness like you had last month. It would just take a few days, and you could blame it on your period.

Your husband took you by the hand, but instead of leading you back to the Bronco, he crossed the street with you. "Thought we could walk along the pier? For old time's sake?"

You looked up into his eager face in the dim glow of the streetlight. He just wanted to please you, just the same way you always wanted to please him. So you nodded and started out along the pier where you'd spent plenty of time getting to know him and making out with him so many months ago.

When you leaned against the railing and looked out at the dark water beyond, Bradley rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. "Promised I'd keep you warm," he murmured next to your ear.

You smiled. "You should have put that in your wedding vows."

His soft sigh as he rubbed his hands along the front of your body made you feel a lot better. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday dinner. I wasn't joking, this really is the most important day of the year. My very favorite day of the year. Besides our anniversary."

"I love you even more than I love hot sauce."

The promise fell from your lips as he chuckled and said, "I hope you don't lose your taste for spicy food when you're pregnant."

The chilly night air started to seep through the fabric of your sweater everywhere that he wasn't touching you. Your face fell into a frown. The dark water no longer looked peaceful. Tears filled your eyes quickly, as if they had been right there at the surface, just waiting for another excuse to drip down your cheeks.

You tried your best to keep it together, but Bradley knew right away that something was wrong. He spun you in his arms until you were facing him. "Please, Baby Girl. Please tell me what's going on. If I made you upset, you need to tell-"

But you just shook your head and pushed him gently away from you, and Bradley looked like you had slapped him across the face. "I'm not pregnant, okay? I'm not. I took a pregnancy test this morning, because my period should have started today."

"Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. We have time-"

"Just stop it, alright?" you asked, wiping away your tears as he reached for you. "Please, just stop talking. Let's go home."

Bradley rubbed his hand along his lips and mustache before he nodded. When he held his hand out for yours, you didn't take it. Rather you just strolled back up the pier toward the street a few steps in front of him, continuously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands.

When you reached the Bronco and went to climb in, Bradley jogged up behind you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He didn't try to kiss you, but he did run his thumb along your knuckles as he whispered, "Love you."

But you pressed your lips together against the pain in your heart instead of responding to him. And then he took you home in silence, not even bothering to choose a playlist to listen to.

Now you'd upset your husband by telling him the truth about what was bothering you. He probably thought you were insane, losing yourself like this for the second month in a row. Blaming yourself for not being pregnant yet when you knew, deep inside your mind, that you hadn't actually done anything wrong. But you felt the uncontrollable, hateful desire to blame yourself anyway.

You were still dabbing at your eyes with your sleeves when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He killed the engine and turned to face you, but you were out the door and heading for the front porch before he could get a single word in. After wrestling with your key for a moment, you shoved the door open and nudged Tramp to keep him inside. But when you turned the lamp on, you froze in place.

Your entire house, literally every surface you could see, was filled with yellow flowers. Tulips, roses, daffodils and zinnias. Everywhere. Just like he had done for you last year. You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could feel Bradley's presence behind you.

After you sucked in a breath, you peeked into the kitchen and saw more flowers along with pink champagne in the ice bucket next to a beautiful confetti cake. Music was playing softly through the small speaker you kept next to the sink, and you recognized the songs as ones from a playlist Bradley made for you when he had been deployed. Your breathing was getting ragged as you sobbed into your hands.

"I'm sorry," Bradley murmured. "I had Nat and Bob bring everything over to surprise you. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get it cleaned up."

"No," you gasped, crying harder. "It's perfect."

You looked up at him through your tears, and just shook your head. He was hesitating to touch you now, and you hated that. And a second later, you were stumbling forward into his arms.

"Don't clean it up," you whispered. "I love it."

You could feel him slowly wrap his arms around you as you buried your face against his chest and sobbed until you couldn't cry any longer. He just held you there while your head throbbed, gently rubbing your back and shoulders until you were done.

As you sucked in a deep breath, he whispered, "You know, you're not alone here, right? You're literally never alone, because I'm here, too."

You swallowed down your guilt and looked up at him. When you nodded he kissed the tip of your nose.

"I don't want to have to keep telling you every month that you're not the only one trying for a baby. I don't want you to keep thinking that. This is 50/50 here, Baby Girl. You and me."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively silencing you before whispering, "You're not allowed to apologize on your birthday."

You smiled up at him, half laughing and half sobbing. "Fine. I won't then."

He pulled you flush against his body and you took his face in your hands as he said, "We've got plenty of time, Sweetheart."

You ran your thumb along his scars. "I just don't want to disappoint you."

"Never," he promised, his voice growing deep and raspy. "You could never."

"But-"

He kissed you hard again. "All you ever do is make my life better. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Instead of trying to argue with him, you just nodded and let him kiss you until you were smiling. He was right. You had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do together.

With Bradley's lips gliding along your forehead, you whispered, "Should we have some cake?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the piano bench next to him with Tramp in your arms, and Bradley played and sang Happy Birthday. He kissed you about a million times as he poured two glasses of champagne and sliced into your birthday cake. Then you stood in your kitchen which smelled like all of the floral arrangements, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind once more. You laughed every time he kissed your cheek and opened his mouth for some cake.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered before you fed him a bite. You'd make sure he had his favorites for his birthday, lemon cake and beer. And maybe with a little luck, in a few months when he turned thirty seven, you would be skipping the beer in favor of something non-alcoholic.

"I hope you enjoyed the best day of the year," he murmured. And you realized that all the best parts were when you were with your husband, living in the moment instead of worry about what you couldn't control.

Later, when you were ready for bed and snuggling up on his chest, you told him, "You could never disappoint me, either."

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

Once again, this one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. Don't beat yourself up, BG. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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modelbus · 2 years

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hiiii would you be willing to do a tommy x fem/gn reader where the reader doesn’t have a prom date and tommy offers to fly to america to be their date teehee … perhaps starting platonic and ending romantic ?

Starting platonic and ending romantic my beloved Also, uh, this got a bit long...

Pairing: CC!Tommy x gn!Reader (who wears a dress)

Perfect Prom

“Where have you been? It’s been ages since I’ve talked to you!” Tommy whines when you join his VC.

“It’s been a day.”

“You didn’t answer any of my messages!”

“Someone is clingy.” Tubbo coughs.

“Fuck off! No I’m not!”

You sigh, opening Minecraft to join him. His stream is pulled up on your second monitor so you can see his expressions while talking to him. It seems to be a chill day today. Or as chill as it gets with Tommy and Tubbo in the same stream.

“I was busy!” You defend

“Too busy for big man Tommyinnit? What were you even doing?!”

“Helping my friends shop for prom. It’s a whole day thing, you know?”

“Oh!” Tubbo exclaims, suddenly sounding eager. “Is your prom soon?”

“A week, yeah.”

“I expect photos.” He tells you.

You give an awkward laugh, moving your Minecraft character to try and find Tommy and Tubbo’s. “Uh, I’m not going?”

“Why not?!” Tommy yells.

This was the embarrassing part, the part you were about to admit to thousands of viewers.

“I, um, don’t really have a date.”

Your popularity started and ended online, leaving you completely and utterly alone. Sure you had friends, but they all had dates. And with prom in a week… well, you had just given up. It wasn’t like you wanted to go to prom that bad.

“What?!” At least Tommy seems outraged for you. “What about your friends?”

“All have dates. I’d rather hang out with you guys and stream anyways. Right chat? You’re more important than some dance.”

Chat seems to disagree with you, but that’s fine.

“So you don’t want to go to prom at all? Not even a little?” Tubbo questions.

“Nope.” You lie. “Now where are you at? I can find you.”

“Have you ever heard of the man cave?”

The topic doesn’t get dropped forever though, coming up later off stream. Tubbo had left the VC immediately after ending stream so it was just you and Tommy now.

“Genuinely, you’re fine with not going to prom? That’s super important, isn’t it?” He asks, breaking the post-stream silence first.

“I wish I could, but the administration has rules against going alone.” You shrug despite him not being able to see you. “Besides, what’s the point of buying a dress if I’m not going with anyone?”

“So you want to go?”

“You’re just rubbing it in now.”

“I’m not! All you need is a date to prom to go?”

How many times did you have to repeat this for him to understand?

“Yeah. All I need is a date.”

“Then I’ll be your date!”

Immediately, you choke on your own saliva in shock. “What?!”

“I’ll be your date to prom! So you can go!”

“Tommy, there’s a few problems with that. I’m in America and prom is in a week, for one.”

“I’m already looking at flights.”

“Second, you do realize a date is romantic right?”

“Platonic date then.”

“Why can’t you just let me be alone?!”

“Because,” he starts earnestly, “that’s shit. Besides, it’ll make for a pretty cool vlog.”

“Tommy, you know I couldn’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Say yes for the content if not for yourself.”

“…fuck this. Yeah. Come to America and be my prom date.”

He cheers, making you laugh.

“I’m gonna get to experience an American prom! No more content searching! There’s a flight out tomorrow.”

“Should we, like, ask Phil about this?”

“Probably, but I already bought my flight.”

“This is going to be a fucking mess.”

“This is so fucking stupid! Why won’t it stay in the fucking pocket?!”

You laugh, trying to adjust the pin pinning the flower in his pocket to no avail. “I told you the corsages were a bad idea!”

“Dream said to buy them. All or nothing.”

“And here we are, putting holes in your suit. Isn’t this a rental?”

“How dare you think me so low that I’d rent a suit instead of buying one.”

“Aha! The flower is on!”

You step back, taking in the sight of Tommy in his full suit. He had gotten you both matching corsages, red and white flowers that stuck out on his black suit coat and your wrist. Tommy turns to the bathroom mirror, filming with his phone.

“Oooo! Damn, I am sexy.”

“Okay, we’re going to miss the reservations.”

“Oh! The ones at Applebees?!”

“I still can’t believe you wanted to go to Applebees. We could’ve gone literally anywhere.”

“Okay, but Sapnap said-“

“Do you think Sapnap got any bitches?”

“Have you seen Sapnap?”

You stare at each other for a moment.

“He’s from Texas. Never trust a man from Texas.”

“So Applebee’s isn’t good?”

“I’ll let Applebees talk for itself.”

“Really? It’s that bad?”

“It’s… it’s something.”

With the newfound lack of courage in his choice of restaurant, you two set out for Applebees. Considering most people go somewhere nice on prom, it’s pretty dead. Maybe you’ll actually get good service for once.

“I swear the waitress just quit.” Tommy laughs, glancing around.

“Or maybe she’s disgusted by the fact you got a medium rare steak.” You suggest.

“Hey!” He yells, throwing a fry at you. “Don’t insult Dead Henry!”

“You named your food?!”

Dodging another fry, you start to throw your own back at him.

“This is fucking war!” He declares, grabbing a handful.

Under the sudden pelt of fries you half hide under the table. Tommy laughs maniacally, seemingly evil. And it’s all because you insulted his choice of steak. You should never get steak from Applebees to begin with!

“Excuse me, sir?”

Oh, of course the waitress comes back now.

“I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.”

Fuck.

“Oh.” Tommy says, apparently too shocked to find a response.

“I am so sorry.” You apologize, scrambling to try and find your card. Tommy’s won’t work because it’s English and Applebees isn’t refined enough to take English cards, so he promised he’d pay you back somehow.

“Yeah, you’re disrupting our other customers.”

Tommy glances around and mouths, “what customers?” to you.

“Mhm, mhm.” You hum as the waitress prints the receipt.

“…have a good day. I guess.”

The second the door closes behind you two, Tommy erupts. “What the fuck?! There were no other customers! It was just us! And she could’ve asked us to stop, not fucking kick us out!”

“It’s Applebees, Tom. What did you really expect?”

“America is the worst!” He laughs, “we really got kicked out because we threw fries, fuck.”

His words make you realize exactly how stupid the situation is. It’s prom night, Tommy came to America to be your date, and you both just got kicked out of Applebees.

Soon enough you’re both laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“How far is the boat?” Tommy asks after a little while.

Because your school was stingy on literally everything else they made up for it by going all out for prom. If you hadn’t known that then maybe you would’ve declined Tommy’s offer, but goddamn was prom meant to be cool.

“Walking?” You ask, pulling up Google maps.

“Yeah.”

“Uh, Google maps says fifteen minutes.”

He nods, offering you his arm. Without a second thought you take it, walking where he goes.

“Where are we going?”

“Prom.” He answers confidently.

“…wrong way.”

“Fuck. I knew that.”

The walk is only slightly cold, but after a few minutes you completely forget about the breeze in favor of joking with Tommy. You definitely owe him a lot. He came all the way to America just to be your date so you could go to prom!

Platonic date. You couldn’t forget that word: platonic. Because although your feelings before this were entirely platonic (were they really...?) seeing Tommy in person was changing that too fast for you keep up with your own feelings.

By the time you reach the docks it’s been well over fifteen minutes, tipping into thirty, which makes it perfect timing.

“When you said prom was a big thing I didn’t realize it was this fucking big.” Tommy says.

“Yeah, there's a lot of people." You agree, joining the line. "At least we're moving quick."

"I was more concerned about everyone dying at seeing my stunning dance moves."

"Oh, yeah, that's a pressing issue."

Soon enough you're both on the boat. It's actually really cool. There are three floors to the boat: the top one has an open-air dance floor, the middle has an indoor dance floor, and the bottom just has food and drinks.

By the time the two of you make your way to the top floor where everyone else is, prom is already in full swing. That is, to say, crowded and loud as fuck. Tommy grabs your hand so you two don't get separated in the huge sea of dancing people, pulling you a bit closer to him.

"Now what?" He asks.

"Dance, I guess?'

With a nod, he steps back and starts doing his weird dance moves. You can't help but laugh, although you do admire the confidence.

"Why aren't you dancing?! Dance with me!" He yells, eyes lighting up at a Taylor Swift song.

"Oh no no no, I am staying far away from you and your embarrassing moves."

"You're on the phone with your girlfriend she's upset!" He sings, grabbing your hands and forcing you to dance. After a second you give in, dancing with him.

The next songs pass so quickly in the blur of having fun with Tommy that you don't even realize he never dropped your hands. In the classic Tommy way, he's just dragging you around and forcing you to do his shitty yet wonderfully fun dance moves.

"Alright guys, we're over halfway through this thing, let's let the couples have some moments." The DJ announces.

As the current pop song fades into a much slower one, you start to head off the dance floor.

"Wait, we have to dance." Tommy quickly says. "Y'know, for the whole prom experience."

"Do you know how to slow dance? Because I don't."

"I am Tommyinnit the womanizer, of course I know how to slow dance!"

You laugh and loop your arms around his neck. "Alright then, womanizer."

He hesitates before placing his arms around your waist. The two of you just sway to the song, slowly relaxing throughout it.

"Thank you." You finally say, breaking the silence that had fallen between you two. "For coming."

"I came for Applebees, not you."

"Oh, of course, how could I not know." You roll your eyes.

He laughs, glancing around. "But of course I fucking came."

"You didn't just come though. You're in a whole suit. You're slow dancing with me."

"Because I'm your date."

"Platonic date." You correct instinctively. You've had to mentally correct yourself for a whole week now.

"...right. Yeah."

He doesn't sound entirely happy with that, and you can't help the way your heart leaps. It's foolish hope, but hope nonetheless.

"Actually, Wilbur's been telling me to make a fucking move for a while now." He suddenly says. "And that's why I offered. I know it's super shitty of me to tell you this now, but I just- you need to know, and I need to know, so I can stop getting my hopes up. I-"

Stopping your swaying, you cut his words off with a kiss. Maybe it's some Disney bullshit, but you swear this feels different than any other time you've kissed someone. Perfect, almost.

"What if I suggested we went to prom as a not-platonic date?" You ask.

"I'd say we're already fucking doing it." He responds with the stupidest grin you've ever seen him wear. "Wilbur's never gonna believe this."

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommyinnit mcyt #mcyt #dsmp #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit imagine

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be-my-ally · 1 year

Text

The Return Flight

Big Bunny #2

As always it's super late here, I will re-edit grammar etc tomorrow! enjoy!

Summary: It’s the next day and they’re off on their return flight. Elvis and Bunny get up to panicking and meditating, and then a couple hours of later one of the other bunnies joins them. Idk I just really can’t see elvis missing out on such a prime chance for a teeny lil bit of voyeuristic action.

I truly tried to wiggle the wrist weights in but alas, not to be today - next time though, next time.

Warnings: 18+, p in v penetrative sex, handjobs (v), oral (p and v), mentions of drug use, graphic description of a panic attack, f/f touching, elvis is kinda sweet in this one - except for the voyeurism + girl on girl action; TO CLARIFY - this is asked for by elvis + both parties consensually agree however, I am warning about very teeny tiny elements of internalised homophobia + the fact that reader implies she only does so (at least at first) to please elvis - she is not, however, reluctant nor unwilling.

wc: 11.4k

FYI: I’ve updated my bio to say I’m pausing requests - just until I get my inbox cleared down + posted! xx Also!!! I’ve had a couple of requests for a taglist - so this is my official mention of that; lmk if you want me to tag you in future posts! FINALLY found images of Elvis AND big bunny! pictured on the left and top right below!

Your brief encounter with Elvis had been your first experience of anything casual, or meaningless, and you’ve never had to navigate the emotions or situations before. It makes you antsy that you don’t know the correct procedure even before you’d left the plane; what do you even say to him? ‘Thanks for the sex, see you on the flight tonight?’ You’re not proud of it, but you ultimately panic to such an extent that you hide in the powder room until they’ve all disembarked. You’d not realised you’d have to hide from the other bunnies too though; they’d all converged on you as soon as you’d left - desperate for any morsel of information you would give. You’d somehow, thankfully for your dignity and the taxi driver’s ears, managed to prevent them from asking too many questions until you’d all arrived at the hotel where you would be staying.

You were looking forward to ensconcing yourself in the hotel room, a proper shower and time to relax for the night and day or so before the return flight. That was, however, not to be, and you were thankful that you’d had the chance to at least wipe yourself down before getting redressed on the plane; your sudden lack of tights had forced you back into your dress - unwilling to be so exposed in your bunny corset. Instead of the peaceful night you had planned Daisy and Maggie were forcing their way into the room (of course, they’d have been sharing with you anyway but you can’t say that you didn’t try to run in and close the door on them) with Darla and Michelle close behind; you forget sometimes that even though they may be more ‘senior’ bunnies, they were still only two years older than you. They sit down around you, demanding you tell them everything, wanting you to fill in the gaps between the assumptions they could make from what they’d heard and when things had gone silent.

“Oh lord, I just don’t know what to do -” You'd said after you’d recounted, blushing, the majority of the details; you’d left out him licking you, or that you think that might have been the first true orgasm of your life. You leave out that you think the hour you spent with him might have made you fall in love, and other ridiculous notions. And, for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a detailed description of him, trying to simultaneously protect him and to keep something just for you; you wouldn’t let them speculate on his size, or his stamina. But you had mentioned that he had a thing for feet, something that had been met with raucous laughter and clapping from the girls when you’d prefaced that with the story of your pantyhose being torn. You were, despite your embarrassment, glad to have these girls around you - you’d grown up in a fairly conservative part of town, and you know any of your close childhood or home friends would have been disgusted with you. They might have let it go - since it was Elvis, or have loudly judged you while silently expressing a level of jealousy but under no circumstances would they have encouraged the behaviour, or been so happy for you. Nor would they have interjected your story with their own, somewhat similar, although far less famous, tales. By the time the conversation had gotten back around to your dilemma with how to deal with Elvis again you were all relaxing on the two beds, piled up and crossed legged like a slumber party. “So really - what should I do?”

“Just don’t change a thing,” Daisy recommends, “If he wants to make something of it let him, but you have to rise above it all. Seem like you don’t care. “ Maggie offers you differing advice;

“If you want it to happen again, just be all over him, it’s not like you have to worry that he doesn’t like you.” You consider these opposing suggestions, silent, sipping the terrible hotel coffee. Michelle speaks up, Darla nodding in agreement;

“In my experience… you’ve got to subtly let him know you’re there and available, but don’t fawn over him, just … just say hello in a friendly way and it’s all in his hands then. Remember, be casual about it.” You consider this for a moment before agreeing. It does seem to be the way of the least mortification. You try to put it out of your mind for the remainder of the break, taking the time to try and focus on resting and relaxing before you had to be back in the air.

This time, there’s far less pomp and circumstance around his arrival; and you’re not surprised to see that it’s solely the same group again. Only Darla greets them on the tarmac - the rest of you already onboard and preparing for a quicker departure than last time. This time, you’re all in your little bunny suits, collars and cuffs, cottontails perfectly fluffed - since he’d requested it you all assumed it would save being made to change. This airport was, despite being private, closer in airspace to the larger international airport and your takeoff time was therefore far stricter than any of you would have liked. All knowing that sometimes these celebrities were as difficult to wrangle as herding a particularly difficult group of cats.

So you don’t have a chance to really look at him, take him in, until he’s brushing past you, his thick hands on your hips and waist moving you from where you’re blocking a narrower part of hallway with your body. He doesn’t say excuse me, or ask you to move, just manhandles you across him. You feel then, before you see, the soft plush fabric of his outfit, and when you glance over your shoulder at him you’re a little surprised that rather than the expensive, perfectly fitted, suit he was wearing last time, this time he was wearing a, clearly expensive but nonetheless fairly ordinary, tracksuit - navy blue, low zipper exposing the wide collared shirt underneath - his chest hair peeking out. Your tummy flips seeing him, and you stay very still where he’s put you, struggling to remember what your plan had been. He pats your ass, casually, in the blatantly chauvinistic way that should make you squirm, that implies he could and would do it to any girl at any time - although you hadn’t actually witnessed that yourself, and you’re mortified that at even that brief touch, without any words exchanged your breath hitches and your mind goes slightly blank. He’s gone by the time you try to open your mouth to say something and you try to clear your head by distracting yourself with the take-off preparations.

Michelle is eyeing you up when you’re finishing checking the door, and she opens her mouth but you’re frantically shaking your head before she can say anything, gesturing to not say a word. She frowns, but complies - a moment later only asking you to help her sort the food out. You do so, happy to disappear for a little while and let the others deal with them for a bit. It’s not long after that the pilots signal for take-off and you sit down briefly as the plane taxies down the runway. You’re distracted enough by the situation you find yourself in; are you making it more awkward not talking to him? That for once the take-off doesn’t bother you at all and soon the plane is balanced in the air, allowing you and Michelle to finish your preparations. Daisy pops her head around the corner a few minutes later saying you’d been requested.

You breathe in, deeply, as much as you can as a little bunny, plastering a smile on your face and you head out to the forward compartment where the group is sat. You expect to walk straight over to Elvis, but you’re stopped by someone else whose name escaped you - barely greeting you;

“Look babydoll, last night, you made me the best Mai Tai of my life, and I’m sure you’re all…” he looks sideways, “as well trained as each other, but honey, I’d really like it if you could do me another one?” You somehow manage to keep your face in check even though you want to scream at his barely concealed innuendo. Instead, you agree, customer service smile on your face, and turn to the rest of the compartment asking if they were all ready for drinks. There’s a resulting chorus of orders and so you head over to the bar to get started. Elvis hadn’t responded, walking out when you’d walked in - he’d gone right into the conference space and one of the boys had mimed a phone to his ear at another's questioning face. You were a little hurt to not be acknowledged but also, truthfully, a little relieved to not have to deal with him for the second. But it wasn’t to last long, upon delivering the other drinks with the other girls to many a relieved sigh, a different man had pointed through to the conference area, gesturing to the bar,

“Think you should take the boss a little pick me up too.” You nod in agreement but he hadn’t drank last time and you have no idea what that would mean making so instead you pour a short glass of cola, hoping that’ll do at least, and balancing the glass on the tray, head through the little curtained archway. You try not to show any emotion when you walk through, keeping your face neutral and concentrating on holding the drinks tray, the slight tip of the plane was liable to send a single glass sliding if you didn’t balance it perfectly. You hear him before you see him, curled against the wall with the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers twirling the cord as he looked out of the window, but with how dark it was outside he could only be looking at his reflection. You’d intended your poker face to display that you weren’t going to be the first to crack, to acknowledge anything but now you’re having to maintain it to retain dignity once you hear what he’s saying. He’s sweet-talking a girl, uttering promises and reassurances;

“No, honey, darling, no - would I be ringing you now? You don’t need to nag me baby, that’s right you’re my baby aren’t ya, ye-ah, put it on your card honey, on my card, yeah that’s no problem… you know I like you in blue…”

You know you have no claim on him; despite your activities together you’ve barely spoken to him, and you’ve only known the man 24 hours and yet a weird surge of possessiveness fills you. Or is it even possessiveness? Or just plain jealousy? Half the trouble was that you’ve never wanted someone like this — you’d never understood why the girls at school would fawn over a specific boy, it had never interested you. You’d never lain awake wondering what you should wear or how you should style your hair to best catch their attention. But today, just this morning, you’d nipped out to the nearest drugstore to the hotel and frivolously bought a new lipstick; you had no need for a new one, and certainly not in the colour you’d chosen - far flashier than you would usually wear, for some reason certain it would catch his eye, but you’d been unable to resist the temptation of putting on a bit of a show for him. To have that gone to waste, for him to ignore you, preoccupied with worrying about appeasing some other girl? Who wasn’t even there? You were annoyed at yourself, for being hurt by his actions and for doing it in the first place.

He finally spots you in the window and he turns, waving you over, reaching out a hand for his drink off of your tray. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge you, or pause in his conversation, simply demanding you come closer with an impatient hand raised. You come towards him, dipping to allow him to easily take the glass, and you watch as he immediately tips it back for a gulp and places the half-full glass back onto the tray. He makes a little mmhmm noise down the phone as he turns his attention back to the call, and the girl on the other end. You turn to leave, not willing to simply stand there and wait for him to want the glass again, jumping when you feel him swat at your exposed thigh. You whirl back around, ready to either playfully (or truthfully, actually) confront him - once was fine but twice? But, before you can he’s back giving his attention to the phone again, looking out of the window. You take it as the dismissal he meant it, and you hate that as you walk away you add an extra sway to your walk - bunny tail bobbing with the motion - just in case he’s looking, and that you can feel your slightly smug smile from even that touch.

It feels like hours, but it was probably only twenty or so minutes later when he returns to the forward compartment, settling down into the large sofa-seat in the middle of the cabin. You’re forced to walk past a moment later and he grabs your arm on the way;

“You look real good today Bunny - very cute.” You wiggle your tail at him and he chuckles; that deep laugh that starts in his chest but ends in his belly. His head rocks and it causes his loose hair to flop about, so different from it’s stiff look from the years prior. You beam at him, pleased to have been so entertaining. He looks you up and down again, still holding onto you,

“Like the lips darlin’. You wear that just for me?” You shake your head no, but he just laughs at you, “Ohhhh, you did it for ol’ Joe over there then did ya?” Feeling the catch-22 you’ve put yourself into you frown, you don’t want to admit that you did do it for him, but god do you not want him to even jokingly suggest you were trying to attract one of the other guys. So you do the next best thing, shaking your head and teasing him back.

“Nu-uh it was for me.” He laughs back at you, his eyes crinkling. When he calms back down he shakes his head in disbelief.

“ O’course it was honey,” You protest his condescending tone,

“It was!” You gesture down at yourself, “I don’t put all this on just for you,” He laughs again, eyes crinkling as he crows at you; shouting to the rest of the boys.

“Ooh-hoo we got ourselves a real-life feminist bunny over here!” He says it mockingly, adding a sneer; “Watch out Ms. Steinem!” He scoffs, “Now hon-ney, we both know it ain’t true… so why don’t you stop playing hard to get, admit you made yourself all pretty for me and come and sit over here. Right on daddy’s knee.” He pats his lap. You frown, you were a feminist, but his lap did look pretty inviting, and your heels were already hurting and you had wanted his attention. So, you do.

“I’m only doing this because you’re paying me.” He chuckles again, one hand coming around you to hold your waist, the other coming to hike your legs further up and across him, his broad hand rubbing your thigh as he does so;

“Sure thing honey - you want me to tip you a little extra for whatever we’re about to do in there?” He nods his head towards the back of the plane. You frown a little, you know he’s joking but you’re suddenly a little worried he does think you’re paid to provide him with extra services. ‘We naturally do not tolerate any merchandising of the bunnies.’ That’s what the bunny bible says. Its word is law, so it’s not true that any extra services are expected. But then, when you think about it, you were told to be…nice to him. The annoying thought then registers, less concern about whether what you’re doing is against the rules, that you hope he realises that you’re doing this because you want to and not just because you’ve been told to. You try to shake this thought off, be casual - c’mon be casual, the mantra running through your head as you attempt to push all other thoughts and feelings out. After all, you don’t want him to think you’re not fun, or reading too much in to anything.

“No-o, that’s, that’s, that’s just an added bonus.” You stroke down the zipper of his jacket, and he laughs again, grabbing your hand and kissing the knuckles. He spreads your hands in his, assessing them.

“God, you got such pretty little fingers baby, look at them lil’ nails - what’s that colour called? Call-Girl Red? Scarlet Tart?” You blush, but you’re able to laugh, recognising that he would only continue to suggest increasingly ridiculous names until you did. He holds you there while he finishes his conversation with the boys, fingers brushing over your skin, until finally, he pats your thigh phrasing an order as a question - “Come through to the bedroom, doll?” You stand up, waiting for him to lead the way to the bedroom at the back of the plane; instead he stands and gestures ahead of him.

“C’mon bunny, hop to it,” He pauses, grinning after his borderline tragic bunny pun as if waiting for a laugh; you comply with a polite giggle even though it’s really not that funny, and take his hand when he holds it out, “let’s go.” When you cross into the bedroom he lets go, leaving you to sit down on the huge elliptical bed while he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You try to breathe, wondering what he has planned when he returns.

You have no idea why you’re suddenly so nervous. There’s a rising sensation of breathlessness travelling up your chest, your stomach churning a little. You feel inexplicably sick, and for a moment you worry, as the plane bobs the tiniest bit - the motion normally soothing, that you might actually puke. He’s still in the bathroom, and you’re trying to calm yourself down - what will you say to him when he comes out? He’s expecting something now. You don’t want to miss out on anything, it had been so good last time; you didn’t want this to be the new lasting memory of your, however brief, time together. You try to tell yourself you’re being ridiculous - c’mon now, calm down, you’re fine - it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before - not like you haven’t done this before, why are you doing this - don’t ruin it for yourself - oh my god why are you such a little baby get a grip. But that clawing feeling is climbing your chest and you’re struggling to swallow - to breathe. You’re ripping off your little bow and collar as hurriedly as you can but it doesn’t make a difference. You sink down lower, practically lying down now, attempting to practice deep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s in that moment he comes bounding out of the bathroom - looking you over, as if he’d expected to be ready to pounce; not deal with you still fully dressed (as much as you could be in the bunny corset) and close to tears.

“Hey - hey honey what’s this?” He sounds panicked, and his pitch only increases at the tear falling down your cheek. You try to speak but can’t; “Just - Just talk to me bunny, what, what’s wrong?” You whine at him, trying to sit up and look at him rather than peep from your horizontal angle. He makes it easier by sitting by you on the bed and peering down at your face.

“Nuh-uh-thing,” You finally gasp out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just - just got myself all twisted.” A tear slips out, and you angrily brush it away trying to stem the flow. He looks concerned for a second, patting your arm.

“I won’t - we haven’t - we don’t gotta do anything baby, you know that? Not gotta do a thing you don’t wanna do.” He sounds unsure, like he’s not had to deal with this before, or like he’s nervous he’s upset you. It only makes the tears fall a little faster - at how nice he’s being to you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it.

“No-o no I know, I want to, I just can’t seem to stop,” You talk through your hitched breaths, trying to explain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t breathe.” He hums, looking over at the little table that ran the length of the wall, at the little black bag settled there before patting his thighs and sighing.

“Right. ‘nough messing about - lemme just get one of the boys to call Dr. -”

“No! No! No - I want you! I wanna do this!” You roll onto your side, scrambling upright and turning to grip his jacket, twisting it in your fist. “I wanna - Elvis I promise I’ll be fine in a second just need to calm down. Catch my breath.”

“Well, if its just you’re breathing all funny let me just give you a puff of an inhaler; they’ve barely got anything in them, just wet your throat really but- but they do help,” You shake your head and he sighs again, as if unhappy you’d refuse the offer. But then he nods, almost to himself, and taking matters into his own hands - hauls you up to be leaning against this thick, sturdy, chest. The zipper was a little lower than before and another button of his shirt has popped open allowing you to pillow your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you feel yourself come down. Shame creeping up as you become fully lucid at how irrational you’d behaved. You sit there for a little while - maybe as long as twenty minutes, but could be as short as ten. Elvis hums song after song at you, occasionally breaking into a little quiet verse, chest hairs tickling you as he moved. Finally you feel sane enough to push up a little, pulling away.

“Sorry - Sorry don’t know what came over me.” You stare at his chest, avoiding making eye contact. He brushes his hand over your chin, pulling it up to force you to look at him. He’s looking at you with an expression of tenderness that’s almost too much to bear.

“S’all right doll, told you - it’s all fine.” You give him a tentative smile.

“I’m sure that wasn’t very …sexy of me, but I do wanna give it another go, please Elvis?” He looks at you hard for a moment, directly in your eyes, as if attempting to judge you were being serious. He clearly decides you were because a moment later he’s leaning over you and moving his hand up your leg.

But when his hand grazes your upper thigh, travelling upwards you feel yourself tense, suddenly stiff as a board. He kisses your neck, and his hand retreats. He spends a long couple of minutes stroking your arm, kissing your neck - your ears. Before attempting it for a second time. Again he gets most of the way there before you go stiff and tense. He moves his hand back to your arm, talking lowly and slowly, practically whispering.

“Now, darlin’ s’ok - we’ve done it before baby.” He’s soothing you like you’re a skittish horse, crooning into your ear, “If you wanna do this I need you to relax for me darling. Can’t do anything otherwise.” You nod, agitated at the accusation that you’re not already attempting to relax.

“I’m trying Elvis - I want to too! I just, it’s involuntary!” He hums - looking over at the bag again -

“Look, honey, I’ve got some, some ‘ludes you can take,” You frown, you didn’t think Elvis was known for doing disco drugs. “I take ‘em to uh help me settle down baby.” You start to speak, perhaps to question the veracity of this claim or where he gets these from - considering his position on recreational drugs. But before you can he’s talking again; “Don’t get me wrong doll, I’m not - don’t get it twisted - they’re prescribed.” He pauses again - “But they’ll sort you right out, real leg spreaders. Won’t change your mind, if you say you want it you still will but, trust me, they’ll relax your body enough.” You shake your head at him, not admitting that while you would love to breathe the concept of not being in complete control of your body was terrifying, instead taking deep breaths to try and force yourself to relax a little more.

“No-no, no need for that, ‘m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me - I’m so nervous today - I just, sorry - just need another minute.” He sighs again, and although the irrational part of your brain worries it’s in annoyance you can tell he’s more annoyed about you consistently declining his offers of help. He’s still doing his best to soothe you, delicate fingers firmly rubbing your arms and sides, a constant motion. “I just - I know it’s ridiculous, but I still feel like I can’t breathe properly.” His fingers stop on the boning of the corset, and he taps it - as if he’s discovered an answer.

“Awh no this is silly now doll, who could all squished in there like that.” He gestures down to where your chest is threatening to spill out of the tightly laced and zipped bodice. You frown, you’re pretty sure it’s mental and not physical but now he’s drawn attention to it you feel like it’s tightening around your middle. You twist to attempt to unhook it yourself - moving forward to bend out of his lap; “No, no darling, let me - I’ll get this thing offa you.” He pushes you further forward a little way, and then with surprising skill deftly undoes the bunny corset. You don’t want to admit it but the moment the hooks fall away you do feel as if some of the air has returned to your lungs. He’s gently and firmly peeling it away from your body, pulling it down and off of your legs - tutting and stroking the little red marks where the seams and boning have dug into you a little - whether because it was just generally too tight or because you’d been contorted into a slightly awkward position.

“Lord almighty - they doin’ that to you every day?” You shrug, about to say that it wasn’t that much worse than some of your tighter dresses or your panty girdle. He holds it up though, looking at it with distaste, rather than the humour he had the first time he’d seen it off of you - as if seeing it for the first time. “They should make ‘em stretchier! Or - or - a better lining!” He frowns again, “I’m gonna ring Hef and tell him - it’s not right!” You shake your head, the conversation at least distracting you from your lungs.

“Elvis - it’s not like I’m meant to be naked right now. How would you supposedly know.” You gesture down at yourself, a little flushed at the realisation that you were, in fact topless and therefore nude from the waist up. He laughs at you, a little condescendingly.

“You ‘spect me to believe he doesn’t know what you’re up to?” He pauses, “Or that…, bunny, you know, I was, uh, warned that you girls would be… available.” You grimace, it makes you feel like a whore when it’s put like that and you try to return you mind to the point you were trying to make.

“Well, still, if it’s because of me that the boat gets rocked - I like my job, and it was at your request we’re proper bunnies today and not in our flight uniforms!” He rolls his eyes at you, huffing at the accusation.

“Ok, ok. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You laugh a little, and you notice your chest bobbing with the motion - it makes you suddenly very aware of your nudity, probably a sign that you’re starting to return to normal, and you wrap an arm around your middle while scrambling to sit properly upright instead of in a semi recline. He looks at you sideways, starting to lean down,

“Well - now we got that sorted - “ You cut him off,

“It wasn’t about that - it was just, I just got all caught in my head, I think I’m a little messed up; it happens every now and again. It just - anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Could you, sorry, would you pass me my bag from over there?” You nod towards the bag just inside the door, it had been a little presumptuous perhaps but you’d left it close enough that if you had missed the mark it wouldn’t have been tricky to move or hide it. “I’ll get changed now.” He frowns, he’s sat upright again himself, but doesn’t move for the bag, instead pulling your arm around and dragging you to sit over his legs again - he leans back, pulling your head to lie on his chest.

“Babe - there’s nothing wrong with you… you just gotta, gotta put a little of it into the air, believe it’s happening for a reason.” He pauses, one arm moving up to wrap around your waist, the other stroking your arm, catching on the little cuff that was still there. “You gotta promise you won’t - it’s no secret, not anymore, but I don’t share this with everyone - so you promise you won’t laugh?” You nod, as best you can - he sounds nervous. “My mama, she er, she always used to say I was real special, that I had a gift.” You nod again, assuming this is about to lead into him singing something to you which, while you didn’t think it was going to be key to ending these nerve attacks you keep having, is certainly not something you would discourage. “But, she uh used to say I had the power to heal things, and, and I think its true baby, so will you - maybe if we can; if I can give you some of my ‘nergy and we think about it - real hard - together, we might get somewhere? Just gotta, gotta connect - spiritually. Maybe if I, If I push on you, and we meditate together we might, it might help?” He looks so hopeful and sounds so earnest that, despite your misgivings about the veracity of these claims, you agree.

“Ok, ok - if you think, if it might help. I just, I do wanna do things with you, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t baby, you won’t.” He sits down, cross legged at the top of the bed, pulling you around to sit in front of him. He makes no mention of your nakedness, and you’re doing your best not to notice it yourself. “Ok, honey, so just, I’m gonna put my hands here, and you’re just going to breathe with me ok?” His eyes are bright, and his face open, like he’s simply excited to be able to share this with someone. You nod, placing your hands on top of where his are resting on his thighs. “Hold on baby, let’s get these offa ya too.” And he unbuttons your little cuffs, rubbing your wrists where they’d sat, “You don’t hafta, don’t need to think about anything ok darling? You just sit there, and focus on my hands and match my breathing ok? I’ll do all the hard work.” You nod again, and he shuffles himself a little, as if getting himself ready to settle in. “Oh - and I want you to close your eyes.” You look at him for a second, attempting to gauge that he’s being serious and this isn’t some kind of elaborate set-up. He gazes back at you, blue eyes completely calm, and you let your eyes slip closed. He hums a moment later, and then you feel him clasping your hands.

You can tell he’s focussing his breathing, slowing it down and drawing it out, and you match him as best you can, feeling him spread your fingers and press his palms into yours. It takes all of your attention and sufficiently distracts you from your panic and worry that quickly you don’t realise you’re no longer thinking about anything but the light pressure of his hand on yours and the air filling your lungs.

You’re entirely focussed on his slow, measured breaths, and your mind is blank - it’s almost a surprise when an immeasurable time later he flexes his hands, whispering at you to open your eyes. You come back up slowly, blinking in the artificial light of the plane, despite Elvis having used the dimmer.

Although you do, admittedly, feel better you’re still not wholly convinced by his healing properties. What you are grateful for however, is how happy he looks when you open your eyes, as if pleased to have been given the opportunity. And regardless of the ability to heal you, you also feel like something has changed. A shift in the energy between you.

His hand grasps yours, his fingers releasing you to trail up your wrist, up your forearm, and stroke back down to your palms again, brushing his fingers all the way down to your very fingertips and starting all over again. The motion of it, after the intimacy of the last half hour sends your nerve-endings alight, goosebumps forming over your flesh. You feel completely calm, completely ready for him again, your posture straight but relaxed. He moves his hands further up, brushing against your armpits and you gasp as he tickles you the tiniest amount. Suddenly, you find yourself up on your knees - leaning into him, falling into him. Your hands cupping his face, fingers tangling in his sideburns. He catches you in his relaxed arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rubbing against your nipples. He’s still breathing quite deeply, mouth parted - and it allows you to press your lips against his, tongue rapidly falling into his mouth. His hands spread across your torso, curving around your chest as you lean into him - trying to get as physically close to him as you emotionally feel.

His thumbs twirl in circles and your back arches as your nipples pebble against his soft touch - your pussy suddenly starting to feel unbearably hot in its three layers of tights and panties. You huff against his lips, pulling back to grasp the waistband of them all - determined to simply roll them all down together, saving them from him, and you do so in one motion almost immediately regretting that it left you completely bare while he was still fully clothed. He doesn’t give you a chance for it to be more than a fleeting thought though, lying you back, still focussed on making you breathless with his mouth. He kisses along your cheek to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on the sensitive patch just above where your collar bone joins your shoulder. You try to reciprocate, pushing the jacket off of him and struggling to unbutton the last of his shirt - exposing his chest and stomach. He bats your hand away when you go for the top of his pants, pulling away from you and he stands up - surveying you.

“You ready for me, baby?” You squirm a little under his gaze, and you’re not sure where the boldness comes from to reach a hand down, dragging a finger over your wetness, and spreading the folds of your labia open for him to see the glistening stickiness within.

“I dunno, what do you think?” His mouth gapes at you, breathing heavily, the motion as unexpected to him as it was to you, and as you sink a finger into yourself, moaning while you do, he hurriedly removes his pants - throwing them somewhere, his eyes never straying from your core. He pushes your arm out of the way a moment later,

“Think you look like a goddamn fucking centrefold - Jesus Christ, bunny, Lord, all for me, Halle-fucking-lujah,” He lowers himself back down, pressing a kiss to your chest, pumping himself a few times before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He sinks into you, slowly, letting you feel every inch of him that he guides into you. The slight overhang of his belly pressing against your middle as he holds you close, pressing into you as deeply as he can get. You feel every inch of him, every fold in his skin as he pushes in - you know he’s not huge, but it’s been so long that to have something in you two nights in a row, you can feel your entrance ache a little, and inside a slight burn from the stretch. He groans, feeling your tight walls clench around him as you shift, wrapping your legs around him crossing your ankles behind his back. He pants against your ear, kissing the sensitive patch of skin right behind. He’s encasing you in him, smothering you, the smell of him - he’d clearly showered after his show, the faint hint of neutrogena still clinging to him but his own scent, the mixture of his own musk and woodsy cologne layering over it - surrounds you. It altogether feels as intimate as the meditation did - just his and your bodies entangled together. He rests there, barely rocking into you, slowly, almost tenderly - before dragging himself out, rolling off.

“Gotta let you breathe, mama - wanna get deeper.” The concept seems impossible, but he’s pushing one of you legs to the side, rolling you slightly and clambering on top, straddling your other leg and kneeling down before he’s sinking in again.

“Oh - shit, shit - how’re you, oh my god Elvis, that’s - I’ve never,” He knocks against your walls, blindly, until he hits the little bundle of nerves inside you causing all thoughts to leave your head, unable to form a sentence past whimpering. You prop yourself up with one hand, holding onto him with the other, it’s new for you - to be able to watch someone’s face as well as watch them push themselves into you. Being able to look at his face, his mouth open, little grunts and moans flowing as his eyes half-close in pleasure is mind-blowing; beyond your wildest imagination.

“Oh baby, mama, you’re so - oh god, how are you still so tight, you ain’t been properly broken in yet, have you, fuck,” His hips are thrusting into you now, little jolts of pleasure running down your spine and you whine as he hushes you, rubbing a hand across your tummy, moving it up to grasp at your breast. He squeezes, on the edge of too hard, swiping his thumb across your nipple as he pinches it - causing you to clench down on him again, prompting a low groan out of his own mouth. He strokes down your torso, before resting his hand on you, it feels huge across your stomach, heavy and hot almost feeling like it’s burning through you. He slips his thumb lower, coaxing your clitoris out from hiding.

“Want you to go with me, C’mon now baby - c’mon bun, I’m close,” He slams his hips into you, “Al-most there,” His fingers rub over you a little faster, and your nails of your supporting hand dig into your own hair, the other clutching his arm, as you tumble over the edge, shouting,

“Oh - oh - oh, god, Elvis - daddy, god, fuck that’s - oh god,” You hear him swear, pulling out just in time and spraying over your stomach, his fingers coming off of you, allowing you to come down, your body still trembling for a few moments.

When you feel like you’re properly back on earth, a few minutes later, you’re still lying back, panting, while you hear him stand and get himself wiped off. Coming over to you to gently wipe away the mess on your tummy. He looks over at you, eyes still half-lidded,

“C’mon ‘lil bunny, time to get back to work.” He pats your thighs and you shakily stand up. Despite his hurry he behaves almost unexpectedly gentlemanly and fetches your bag for you from beside the door. “Ain’t gonna make you put that torture device back on - you can do the leather if you want.” You frown, thinking for a moment - everyone will know what you’ve been up to then, but then you laugh to yourself a little - everyone already certainly knows. You pause before getting your underwear back on, slightly surprised at his speed, looking over at him;

“You sure you won’t…don’t wanna go again?” He looks a little bashful for a second,

“ ‘m not, I’m an ole man now baby.” Is all he says in reply, but it does the job in conveying what he meant. You look over at him - not sure that you’d describe him as old, he’s what… 38, 39? But you leave it be - dressing in the little leather coat/wrap dress. As you sit to roll your tights over your legs though he stops you, looking you over. “Bunny? Leave off the hose.”

“Sure daddy, sure.” You obey, stripping them off again and pulling your boots onto your bare legs - undoubtedly you’ll get a blister but it’s worth it for the pleased way he looks at you and the kiss on the top of your head in reward for your obedience. You nip into the bathroom, trying to sort your hair and touch up your make-up, and by the time you’re ready to come out he’s gone.

You walk out with your head up, and while you’re greeted with a series of smirks and some whispers you’re not as panicked about it as before, and you’re relieved he came out before you, positive that he took the brunt of any teasing. He winks at you when you pass him, dressed without his shirt now, but otherwise ignores you. This doesn’t upset you like before - you’re content that only you and him truly know what’s just gone on and that your new, intimate, connection is safe and tucked away just for the two of you. It feels like you’ve been wrapped up in him for days and yet when you look over at the clock ticking away you realise you’ve only been in the air for an hour and a half. You feel a little like you’ve left a tiny part of yourself in that room with him, and that you should feel more vulnerable - more exposed than you do. Instead, you feel calm - your tension almost completely gone and with that you start to feel the possibility that you might actually be able to enjoy the next few hours.

A couple of hours later, you’re dancing in the disco room - providing entertainment although you’re sure most of them, certainly Elvis, should be sleeping; unsure where the burst of energy from everyone has come from. But still, you’re dancing about with the other girls, playfully messing around, when he - from his sat position, lavender tinted glasses now on his nose, pulls you down to whisper in your ear,

“C’mon bunny, give me a little show - pick one of ‘em.” He gestures to the other girls bobbing around you. You look at him, mouth open, a little shocked at his bold request - so different from the sweet, slow, intimate behaviour from earlier. It’s not something you’re totally opposed to, but….in public? It’s as if he’s reading your mind; reassuring you -

“S’ok, baby, s’just us up here - just me and m’boys,” He pats you on the thigh, “Go on - there’s a good girl.” You stumble forward a little and make eye contact with Maggie - who was already looking over, clearly eager to share his attention. You look back over to Elvis, watching him grin at her, pleased that she seems so willing, “Just wanna watch you two kiss honey, nothing more - don’t gotta be that dirty but just… just a little. Just for me.” You nod, steeling yourself. But Maggie isn’t reluctant in any way, threading her fingers through yours to pull you closer. The tie of your leather dress brushes against her bare thigh, still in the bunny corset, and you feel her shudder against you as you step completely into her space.

It’s a little strange, kissing her, different but simultaneously essentially the same. The startling difference was the … niceness of it, it was sweet and slow and gentle. Different from the lip biting and teasing of the men you’d kissed. You forget, for a moment, all the other people in the room, it’s narrowed to just the three of you although really you’re putting on a show for everyone, and you open your eyes - watching Elvis watch you. Despite Maggie’s lips on yours - her soft body still pressed against you - your focus is solely on him. His eyes are burning into you, and his legs are spread, thighs thick and inviting. You put a little more effort in, grasping her hair, rubbing down her back, and you listen to him huff a little chuckle when you jokingly squeeze her tail, and slot your leg between hers. You keep eye contact behind her head, watching him swallow, shifting a little to rub a hand over himself - completely unabashed at doing so in front of everyone. The sight of him sat there, looking like a sultan surveying his harem, blue eyes serious and intense, makes your eyes slip closed, and you put all your focus into the feeling of being watched and being kissed. You pull away, laughing as you both sway a little from the force of coming apart - you look over at him;

“That alright Da-El?” He beams at you,

“Perfect girls - so goddamn perfect.” He pats his thigh, the outline of his hardening cock almost completely visible, “Why don’t you come over here bunnies, let me have a better look.” You both do as he asks, giggling, as you tumble together onto his lap. It’s messier now, more fun, her hands scrabbling down your sides, and yours cupping her cheeks. You feel so hyper from it all that you almost feel drunk. His hand moves to support your lower back as you lean across to kiss Maggie again, giggling a little against her lips as she almost tips backwards until his arm catches her.

“God, men fucking dream about this dolls - two little bunnies sat in their laps. But this is just for me ain’t it? Just for me?” His head is tipped back, but he swings it forward to look at you both - intensely, possessively. How a man could be possessive over two women he’d only known 48 hours, on a plane he didn’t even own, was mind-boggling - the sheer confidence required for that kind of thought overwhelming. Yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it, your own head nodding insistently to reassure him. Maggie looks askance at you, but still rapidly nods - the slight lie going unnoticed. His thigh flexes and where you’ve leant forward has hitched your tiny skirt up high enough that you’re now entirely sat feeling the soft fabric encasing his thigh underneath you rub against your bare legs. You can’t help but rock against it, just the tiniest amount. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you three, and instead of the shame you expected to feel, your stomach tightens in arousal at the sensation of being watched. He lets out a little moan, and it only makes you work harder, slipping your tongue into Maggie’s mouth as she pants against your lips. You feel Elvis’ hand slide up your body to the side of your ribcage, his thumb brushing your breast. You pull back, and he gasps as you stroke the outside of his soft trouser leg, gently rubbing the fabric over his cock. Elvis abruptly stands, pushing you both off.

“Think there might be some important business I need to do in Hef’s office. Why don’t you two run along ahead - gonna need,” he looks sideways, jokingly, playing it up for your forgotten audience, “gonna need a couple of helping hands.” You give what can only be described as a polite smile, wondering what on earth has gotten into you that you were willing to display yourself like that in public. But for whatever reason you’re walking back into the bedroom again - this time following behind Maggie. You’re watching her from behind, and though you’ve seen her in uniform countless times you’re suddenly left wondering if her shape has always looked that inviting to grab - or if the teddy had always revealed so much of her ass. She seems far more at home in Hugh’s private quarters than you ever did the first time, and you realise suddenly that it’s very probable this isn’t her first time back here with a guest. The realisation shoots a burst of anxiety through you again, that you try to immediately brush away, that this whole thing really was just expected of you.

Elvis shuts the door behind him when he comes in, immediately setting the mood lighting. Before resting his hand on your back and pulling you in for a quick kiss. It’s strange kissing him again now, you expect for some reason his lips to feel rough in comparison to Maggie’s, masculine instead of her soft femininity, but as always his lips are full and buttery soft a perfect representation of the juxtaposition of his personality. He pulls away too soon and you find yourself leaning into him, eyes still closed, chasing the sensation, pouting when he laughs at you.

“You good to go honey, or do you need a hand givin’ me a show?” You’re confused by what he’s offering, until you notice he’s holding out his hand two little pills sat in it. “Just vitamins baby,” You shake your head, you’re a little nervous but despite the environment you’re working in you’ve not taken anything yet, and the concept of it scares you more than your nerves. You’re surprised though when Maggie’s hand comes from nowhere, plucking one of them out of his palm and swallowing it dry. He beams at her, “Atta girl.” Maggie giggles at him,

“Thank you daddy,” and he glances over at you, sideways, again before swallowing the leftover pill.

He claps his hands, before suddenly, playfully, throwing you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You’re shocked at the display of physicality - not expecting it at all, and even more surprised when a moment later Maggie is thrown in much the same manner, bumping onto the bed and knocking into you. He settles himself up by the cushions, looking expectantly at the pair of you of you sprawled out and he gestures to the rest of the bed. He shifts, settling his hands on his open thighs, the hard outline of his cock almost completely visible through his pants. He clenches them into fists, like he’s trying not to touch. He looks, with his hair wild and his glasses on, so classically - typically Elvis that it makes your heart rate increase just watching him.

“Go on then, pretty little bunnies - wanna see you two - wanna see you havin’ fun. Give me a show.” It’s not a request but a command, and even if you’d wanted to (which you didn’t) you can’t do anything but obey.

Maggie responds with a “Yes, sir,” as you move to situate yourself, kneeling at the bottom of the bed and she crawls over to meet you. This time she takes control, kissing you, her hands moving over the little leather coat-dress. It feels different having her lithe, nylon covered leg pushing in between yours instead of Elvis’ thick thigh. You wouldn’t go so far to say it’s better, but the friction against your thin panties and the way it allows your legs and thighs to stay fairly close, to clench and move is appealing. You can’t help but rock against her, clutching at her waist - she laughs into your mouth, pulling your hair a little as she presses gentle kisses down your neck. You gasp, head falling back, before you pull away to lean forward again, catching her face between your hands, you rub against her, drawing her front back towards you - you giggle, whispering,

“Mags’ I can’t - can’t believe we’re doing this...” Elvis chuckles behind you, clearly you weren’t as quiet as you thought, and that makes you laugh harder. It’s fun and flirty and you haven’t felt this chill about something in a while - the ability to just zone out and enjoy the sensations without having to worry about the future. You start to unbelt your dress, trying to move quickly - frantically, and as soon as you’ve got it unbuttoned Maggie is palming at you, pushing it down your shoulders. She moves forward a little more, and you lean back - letting Elvis get a better look at your newly uncovered skin. She moves her hand to brush against your panty-covered mound and you gasp. Your head falling forward onto her shoulder at the feel, so different from your own fingers or his thick digits, she moves her leg and you’re suddenly humping against nothing - you whine into the air, Elvis interrupting you as you try to pull her back.

“Sl-slow down girls, get tha’ dress off and go a lil’ slower - there’s no rush. No need to rush now - just slow - slow it down.” You nod trying to still your hips, gasping out,

“Ok, ok, daddy - well - we’ll slow -ah- down,” and Maggie pushes you, both of you tumbling backwards. You roll for a moment, the silk of Maggie’s costume rubbing against your skin, the coolness a welcome relief to your burning skin. You suddenly catch, out of the corner of your eye, Elvis shifting, his arm moving at a rapid pace and you don’t know why, considering what you’re currently doing, you’re shocked to realise he has his cock out, that he’s touching himself watching you. You accidentally make eye contact, and you’re taken aback by the look on his face, his lip curling in pleasure. To be watched with such burning desire is shocking, and would be enough to make you shy had you not had this overwhelming sexual confidence come over you from somewhere. You absently think that you should probably help Maggie out of her corset, the pufftail isn’t comfortable to lie in and she was probably wishing for more breathability right now, but before you can offer she’s stroking a finger down you and all thoughts fly out of your head. She looks up at Elvis, questioning something that you can’t hear through your single-minded tunnel vision and hearing, but you manage to catch his reply;

“No - no, just - just, just over top, honey, not - no, that’s just for me.” And she resumes to touching you over the top of the growing dampness of your panties, you groan at the sheer level of objectification; at being spoken about as if you were just there for his amusement, that you were his. Maggie renews her efforts though, and her fingers quickly, even over the soft cotton fabric of your underwear, find the spot to make you squirm, hips bucking into her. She soothes you, and you wonder if you should be reciprocating in some way but as her delicate fingers push the tiniest fold of fabric into you, you’re lost clutching at the fur throw, the slight friction easing as it gathers up your slick. She moves her finger to circle around your clit, bunching the fabric between her thumb and fingers and rubbing it against you. You somehow manage to blink open your eyes, leaning your head all the way back to look at Elvis; his entire focus is on what’s happening between your legs - it causes a shudder to run through you, and your stomach tightens as you feel your legs start to cramp;

“Go on baby, hold it for me, hold it - don’t - want you to keep her just there for me - that’s it. Stop stop, that’s just for me.” She pulls her hand away and your back arches as whine, so close to the edge.

He leans in gripping Maggie’s neck to kiss her and you can hear the wet smack of their lips together, he pulls back, briefly “Don’t worry, honey, don't wanna make you jealous…just wanna say thank you for such a lovely show - that’s alright isn’t it?” You can’t do anything but agree and he returns to her, hands on her neck and head to hold her in place. Watching it up close you can understand why he wanted to watch himself, you wonder if that’s what you look like with him too; all teeth and tongue and lips. You squirm, still feeling the possibility of your orgasm.

“Now go on, there’s a good girl, run along now, thank you darling - You gonna be alright? You want me to get one of the boys to uh, see to ya properly?” She shakes her head, almost fondly as if laughing that she might need his help to find a willing partner. “Well - You tell ‘em I said it’s ok.” He sends her on her way like he’s pimping her out for the night, you hate how it makes your core throb a little, and you can’t help but glow at being the very obviously chosen one; not just one night but two in a row. Maggie looks back at you, still lying on the fur throw, winks and leaves - sauntering through the door. When she’s gone Elvis turns back to you, rubbing sweeping circles on your stomach,

“Just wanna get you goin’ again for me,” His hand starts to trail down, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you put your own out - grasping his wrist to stop him wanting him to know;

“Daddy, I’ve never - that was my first time with,” He laughs,

“Oh, honey, I know, I know. Did you like it?” You nod, and he laughs again, “I’ll bring my camera next time baby, can’t believe Hef’s not got one installed in here somewhere. What a waste.” He tries to move but you hold his hand where it is, causing him to look calculatingly over you, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I…” You squirm under the pressure of his gaze and the tone of his voice.

“C’mon bunny, tell me what you want.” You nod, a bit nervous - but you had stopped his hand for a reason.

“Could you, would you… you know.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he responds,

“No, sorry, I don’t.” You whine,

“Ugh - would you, with your tongue?”

“Ohh - you want me to go back down on you? Have another taste of that sweet yittle bunny cunt?” You wriggle at his harsh wording mixed with his babying tone, but you frantically nod. He grins, taking his glasses off and throwing them somewhere on the bed.

“Well ain’t today just my lucky day.” He manhandles you into a better position, ripping your underwear off, pushing you against the cushions and shoving one underneath your hips - moving to situate himself between your thighs. He wiggles like a cartoon about to be served at a restaurant - almost certainly to make you laugh and you comply, nervously giggling, mind preoccupied with hoping that you taste alright now that you’ve asked for it. He spreads you open, kissing your inner thigh before moving closer to your core, and you can feel yourself pulse with anticipation.

He tentatively licks you, just a gentle, wet stripe and you immediately gasp - eyes flying wide open, startled at how sensitive you already felt. Although it shouldn’t come as any surprise, you’d been slick and swollen since you’d fucked earlier, and a bit sore since last night. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, and moves his fingers in to keep you spread open. Your hips buck of their own accord when he wets his lips and blows cold air onto you, watching you squirm and clench in response. You can feel his smile before he concentrates again his tongue lapping at your entrance. Your legs come up, needing more support to better grind onto him and your hands move down to grip his hair, thumbs digging into the side of his face, his sideburns, while your fingers find purchase in his long strands, gently holding him in place. He renews his efforts, flicking his tongue in your inner folds and he moves one of his hands to brace your stomach down as he moves to lick directly over your clit - your hips thrusting up enough in response for you to understand the necessity of his hand holding you down. You didn’t realise you could become addicted to the feel of something so quickly, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to live without someone, preferably him, doing this to you regularly. The warm wet pressure builds, and on top of where you were already on the edge it’s quickly building to be almost too much. He pulls back just as you think you’re about to go over the edge and you groan, but he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick.

“Oh god - is that, is that me on you?” He grins,

“Sure is baby, sweetest honey from my honey bun-bun.” He licks his lips, and you groan again, your tummy flipping from how close you still feel,

“Elvis - Daddy - need you, need more,” He leans back down, whispering, crooning in babytalk to your pussy;

“Oh baby, baby, poor little, yittle, baby bunny - daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, no more games baby, no that’s right, gonna get you right there,” He presses his lips to your clit kissing it, nose buried in you. Your entire focus is on the sensations as he moves down to spear his tongue into you, so different from a finger or cock and you almost choke from the force of the puff of air you exhale, as he curls it just so; you didn’t even know it was possible to do that and you wonder how much practice at this he really has.

You can’t bear to look down at him anymore, the sight of his long lashes brushing against you, reminding you of who it was between your legs, watching you almost too much and you throw your head back, eyes closing as he thrusts his tongue in and out. He moves to add his thumb in, rubbing over your clit as his tongue continues to do its job, soothingly licking where you’re sore around the entrance to your hole. Your stomach tightens as he maintains a steady pace and you clench around him, thighs coming to rest on either side of his head, as you rock on his tongue and fingers. It’s not long, only moments when the pressure and movement get you there, body jumping as you crest over the wave of your orgasm. He licks you through it, and it means you just keep going. It’s overwhelming, and not something you’ve experienced before, the extended shaking and shuddering as you jolt around, jumping with every fizzle of pleasure. Finally, he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again, panting as you force your body to relax.

A minute or so later you’re able to sit up a little more, opening your eyes properly again. You look over at Elvis and he’s got his cock in his hand - you’re tired but you feel like you have to show him some kind of appreciation for the best orgasm of your life so you lean up on your elbows, reaching a hand down to join his, you pump it once or twice before whispering to him,

“Let me Daddy,” and you sink your mouth down onto him. He gasps in surprise swearing

“Lord hav- oh god baby, bunny, oh shit.” as you hum around him, swallowing. He was clearly already very close and it only takes a couple of moments in the hot, wet, pressure of your mouth and throat before he’s warning you,

“Gonna, it’s, I’m gonna go off baby, it’s - I’m close, real fu-cking close.” And with that he thrusts once, twice, while you hollow your cheeks - sucking down hard and that’s all it takes for him to be spurting into your mouth. You flinch, surprised, despite his warning, at the speed the taste unexpected, but still you swallow it down. “Fuck - fuck, thank you bunny, thank you.” He’s sweet, offering more gratitude than you’ve ever received from a man. You kiss his tip as you pull away and once again fall onto your back. You lie back, panting, and he joins you, curling around you - cuddling into you for the first time since you started this whole thing. You roll into him, enjoying being cradled in his thick arms, trying to comprehend the events of the past forty eight hours and how you’re going to be returning back to your normal life in only another few hours, wondering what Maggie chose to do, when he starts to talk, fingers tracing circles on your arms.

“You know - my daddy’s - I got ‘im buyin’ me my own jet.” Your brow furrows a little, unsure where he’s going with this - “I uh, I - you’ll still have a cute little outfit, I like - like to dress ma girls up but, but I promise it’ll be … stretchy and uh, I won’t - I won’t assume anything but - but I sure would like it if you, you would come on board with me?” He perhaps should have stopped there but he keeps talking, “It also - it would mean more time together, bunny, fewer girls around. Well…fewer in uniform anyway.” You grimace a little - so what is he suggesting; you be his on call plane whore? You hate that you want it, hate that you’re so desperate for him, in any way you can have him - to whatever capacity he’s available that you’re going to agree.

“Of course - that would, that would be a dream come true Elvis, I would love to,” You’re not entirely stupid though. You smile at him, agreeing but not believing - this happens all the time in the clubs too; men promising things that never materialise - the drunker they get the more outlandish the claims; cars, houses, vacations, jobs. You know of too many girls who quit because they were promised a job as someone’s secretary only for the role to never materialise to put too much stock into his question. Besides, you still have two more flights with Elvis already in Big Bunny’s calendar - you were sure there’s more than enough time for him to make the offer again if he was really serious.

“Wha-what’s your schedule like?… You got a boyfriend?” You pause, uncertain where this is going, surely these were questions that should have been asked yesterday? You suddenly realise that you know he’s seeing someone if only from the overheard phone-call but that you also had no idea if you were turning into the other woman or something. Or if you were just a girl to pass the time with.

“I - uh, no. No, no-one. I’m not, we’re kept quite busy…” He frowns, kissing the top of your shoulder,

“Would you, you could come watch a show if you, I’ll get tickets for you and the girls if you want?” You smile,

“That would be lovely, thank you -” He continues,

“You could come a little earlier if you wanted, I’m playing somewhere new tomorrow, well - uh,” he looks over at the clock, grimacing, “Today. So I gotta check the sound and things, you could come to the rehearsal? I want you there baby,” You register some shock at his last words but nod, agreeing, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime and you go to say it but you suddenly realise, from the little puffing breaths on your shoulder he’s fallen asleep practically mid-sentence. You look around for the clock, before you, with some wonder, discover there’s still ninety minutes left of the flight and close your own eyes too. The others can do the stewarding, you’re doing the main job - keeping Elvis happy.

#be my ally #be-my-ally #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #70s elvis fanfic #big bunny #big daddy elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you

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captainsophiestark · 3 months

Text

Galentine's Day

Platonic!Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Natasha and her best friend are about to spend their first ever Galentine's Day apart, since Natasha's in Miramar for training. That is, unless her best friend has something to say about it.

Word Count: 2,683

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Happy early Galentine's Day to everybody who celebrates!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I'm sorry. I tried so many times to get leave, but I just couldn't make it happen. This training's mandatory, and there's no chance I can get away until it's over."

"That's okay," I said, giving my best friend my most convincing understanding-but-sad face. "We were bound to be in different places for Galentine's Day, eventually."

Natasha huffed. "I guess. It just felt like we'd always find a way to make it work, you know?"

"I know. But at least we can say a little Happy Galentine's Day via FaceTime!"

Nat sighed. "Yeah, I guess it's better than nothing. So do you have any plans today? I'm basically going from this call to lectures with brass to flying with a bunch of guys including the Bagman, so... not an ideal Galentines Day."

I grimaced. "That sounds rough. Try not to let them get you down! And, actually, speaking of plans... I'm so sorry, but I have to go. I promised to help a friend move, since we couldn't go do any of our usual celebration today, and they're expecting me in like ten minutes."

"Oh. Oh, yeah, that's okay. I should actually probably get prepared for the start of our training for the day, but... have an amazing day, alright? You're the best."

"Noyou."

We shared a smile that quickly faded. She clearly didn't want to say goodbye, and I'd ruin the surprise if I looked like I was in a rush to get off the phone.

"Well... I'll talk to you later?" I said, trying to sound hesitant. Nat took a deep breath and smiled.

"Yeah. Text me when you're free and we'll figure it out."

I nodded, gave her a little wave, then hung up the call. I grinned. That had gone perfectly. I was confident she had no idea I was outside the Hard Deck, right now. She was going to be so surprised.

My childhood best friend, Natasha Trace, and I had a long-standing tradition of celebrating Galentine's Day together to celebrate our friendship, get together no matter where in the world we were, and do whatever the hell we wanted as long as it was together. This was the first year where we wouldn't be able to do that—at least, as far as Natasha knew.

In reality, I'd found a way to cancel my schedule conflicts and buy a flight to San Diego to surprise her. I'd managed to get in touch with Rooster, one of her closer aviator friends, to get her schedule, and after keeping the secret for a month and a half I was finally going to tell her. She would be so excited.

I took a deep breath, then crossed the remaining parking lot space to get to the Hard Deck. I pushed open the door and stepped in to find more than a few Navy pilots hanging around, which tracked with just about everything Nat had ever told me about this place. It didn't take me long to find my friend, thankfully, as she was heading for me and the door with Rooster trailing behind her.

"Phoenix, don't you want to play another round of pool? We can't let Hangman win!" he protested, clearly trying to stall her. I smiled to myself and headed in their direction.

"No, I don't, Rooster," she said. "I've got some things to take care of, I'll see you at training, alright?"

Rooster looked ready to keep arguing, but then he looked up and caught sight of me. He stopped in his tracks and smiled at me, and I gave him a little nod before turning my attention to Nat.

"I hope you can ditch those things you've gotta take care of for your best friend," I said, an absolutely shit-eating grin spreading across my own face. Nat's head snapped up at the sound of my voice, and her jaw dropped when she saw me standing just a few feet from her.

"You- You're supposed to be- But- Dude!"

She rushed forward, absolutely beaming, and wrapped me in a bone crushing hug. I laughed and hugged her right back, just as tight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, incredulous laughter dripping from her words.

"Surprising you! Obviously!" We smiled at each other as we finally pulled apart, Natasha still shaking her head like she couldn't believe I was here. "When you said you couldn't get leave, I started problem solving to find a way to get time off work. It wasn't easy and I didn't want to get your hopes up, so I didn't tell you. Then once I got approved, I thought it would be more fun if I could surprise you! So I got Rooster to tell me your schedule and then I got on a plane!"

Nat whirled around to look at Rooster, who just grinned back at her, then turned back to me.

"That's sneaky as hell, but also incredible. Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," I said, grinning as I closed the distance to wrap her in a one-armed hug. "And I have everything planned for tonight, the minute you're free of Navy stuff. We're gonna do Galentine's Day right. But I didn't plan anything for this morning, so... what do you want to do?"

She shot me a look that I knew meant trouble.

"How about beating all the other Navy pilots at pool?"

"Sounds perfect."

We ended up at the pool table in the back of the bar for the better part of an hour, before the pilots had to leave for training. Nat and I had gotten good at pool in high school, since it was fun to absolutely run the table together at parties, and we wiped the floor with the other pilots in every round we played. By the time they headed off to training, Nat had at least one game each to hold over their heads until the next time they played.

Since Nat couldn't get leave, she still had to spend most of the day doing Navy stuff. Luckily for me, we were in San Diego. It was an absolutely beautiful day, so I killed time waiting for Nat by walking along the beach and relaxing in the sand. I finally left for my hotel room with a little over an hour to spare before she would be free from training.

We met up right outside the base at Miramar, after Nat had changed out of her uniform and flight suit. She grinned as she walked out to meet me at my car, and I grinned right back.

"So where are we going?" she called. I just smiled.

"Get in the car and find out!"

She shook her head, but she didn't protest, and within a few minutes we were on our way. I had our favorite playlist, one we made our senior year of high school, playing over the speakers, and it felt for a second like we'd never left our hometown, driving around in the evening together getting up to mischief.

"So, how was training?" I asked. She hummed.

"It was fine. We're learning a lot, actually, which I really didn't expect. We're all already the best of the best. Bagman's being obnoxious as always, which is the main downside."

"You like Bob though, right? Your new WSO?"

"Yeah, he's great. He's become a pretty good friend, too, which makes some of the other idiots easier to deal with."

"Thank God for that."

"No kidding."

We rode in comfortable silence for a little further, until Nat finally clocked our destination not far ahead of us.

"No. No, no way, we are not going there."

"Yes we are! Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I am not doing karaoke."

"You've done it before! You even have a good voice! What's the problem?"

"Because it's Galentine's Day, and I can pretty much guarantee you that at least half of the guys in my training group are in there or will be soon."

I shot her a look as I pulled into a parking space.

"You think a bunch of Navy pilots with giant egos are going to be at karaoke on a Tuesday night?"

"Yes. In fact, I know they are."

I snorted. "Well then they're ridiculous and have no leg to stand on judging us. We'll just ignore them, have a blast, and then move on to the Galentine's Day finale when we're ready."

Nat sighed and shook her head, but she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door anyway.

"Fine. Just be prepared to get heckled on a level our high school classmates could only dream of."

"Oh, I feel confident we can give back just as good of heckling as we get."

The corner of her mouth quirked up at the idea, and we headed inside. I'd booked us a table, and we could order dinner and drinks here to go with the singing, which made it absolutely perfect. We just had time to place our orders, put our names in the karaoke queue, and settle in before a loud group of aviators came stumbling over each other and through the front door.

I turned to Nat with my mouth open, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I can't believe you were right. Do they seriously have nothing better to do tonight?"

She just raised an eyebrow and gave me a look, and I sighed. This didn't really change anything, luckily for us. So we'd have a little bit of an audience that Nat knew. We'd done karaoke in front of our entire high school before, and this definitely wouldn't be more nerve-wracking than that.

The other aviators didn't notice us right away, giving Nat and I time to chat and catch up and swap stories from our lives in peace. Our drinks arrived, and not too long after, we were up for our first duet of the night. We shared a smile and did the handshake we'd come up with in middle school, then headed up to the stage.

A few of the aviators whooped when they saw us, and I saw Nat trying to hide a smile. Like pool, we were good at this, and if there was one thing I knew about my best friend, it was that she loved showing off, especially when she could flex on the guys.

The music started and Nat and I fell into our familiar, ridiculous routine, dancing and singing our hearts out to a performance we'd had down for the better part of a decade. The audience faded away a little as my best friend and I hammed it up, enjoying the opportunity to be silly with each other again. By the time we finished, the crowd was cheering for us, and I could tell from the looks on the faces of the other Top Gunners that they were well and truly impressed. As they should've been.

We spent the rest of the night laughing, drinking, and occasionally singing. Some of Nat's friends wandered over to talk or try to join us, but we chased them all off after a few minutes. They seemed nice enough, but the whole point of Galentine's Day was to spend it with my best friend, with no distractions (especially from men). The one and only exception for the entire night was Rooster, who convinced us to join him for a three-person song on stage. His energy matched ours enough that we said yes, and we had the whole place rocking and cheering and singing by the time our song was over.

"That was great! Phoenix, I didn't know you were so good at karaoke!" Rooster called over the noise of the bar as we headed off the stage. It was getting late, but the energy of the bar just seemed to be ratcheting up more and more, no one showing signs of tiring.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Rooster," she said, shooting him a grin. He laughed, then turned to me.

"You should be here all the time. Do you know what I'd give to regularly see Hangman lose at pool?"

I laughed. "Nat can take him any day of the week, with or without me!"

"Yeah, but he knows that. Watching you clean his clock was even better than usual."

"Well maybe next time I need your help planning a surprise visit, it'll be to surprise Hangman with absolute destruction in a bunch of competitions."

"All you have to do is say the word, and you can count me in to help."

The three of us shared a smile, and then Rooster gestured back towards the small karaoke stage.

"Should I put us in for another song?"

Natasha and I shook our heads at the same time, which got an eyebrow raise out of Rooster.

"Sorry, but it's Galentine's Day," I said.

"Which means we're not hanging out with any of the male population of my program. You got one exception, Roos, but that's it."

"It was nice to meet you in person, though! And thanks again for the help surprising Nat!"

Rooster just stared at us like he wasn't quite sure whether we were serious. We didn't give him a chance to formulate a question before turning around, arm in arm, and heading back to our table. I heard him bark out a laugh as we went, but neither of us turned around.

"So what's the plan?" asked Nat as she slid back into her seat. "Do we need to come up with our next song, or do you have something else on our itinerary?"

"Something else! So finish your drink, because we're out of here."

She raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't ask any questions as she did as I said. She knew me well enough to know she'd never get the details of a surprise out of me, if I didn't want to give them.

A few moments later, we paid and headed out of the bar. We didn't give the other aviators a backwards glance before stepping out into the cool night air of San Diego. I smiled, taking in a deep breath and linking my arm with Nat's again.

"So where are we going?" she asked after doing the same.

"Don't you worry. Just follow me."

She shook her head, but she was grinning nonetheless as we began our short walk. Less than five minute later, we found ourselves at the edge of the beach, looking out at the night sky reflected against the dark water. I dropped my arm from Nat's to pull off my shoes, then stepped out into the sand.

"The beach feels like a good end to the holiday to me. What do you think?" I asked, turning back to look at Nat with a smile. She grinned, quickly ditching her own shoes to join me.

"I think you're right."

The two of us walked along the surf for a little while, before finding a spot we liked to sit down in the sand, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the water while the waves gently lapped up on shore. I sighed, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the stars.

"I miss living near you," I mused. She sighed, dropping back onto her elbows, almost fully laid out on the sand.

"I miss living near you, too. But just think. When I eventually retire from the Navy, we can get houses next to each other and be ridiculous, chaos-causing women heading into our late middle age and still act like dumb twenty year-olds together."

I snorted. "Alright yeah, I'm definitely looking forward to that."

Natasha sighed, and we sat there in comfortable silence for a while, staring at the beautiful night before us. After a moment, I dropped my head onto her shoulder. We sat like that for a long time, just enjoying being in the same place again, at least for a little while.

I didn't want to leave in a few days; I wanted longer here, more time spent with my best friend in the world. But I knew, no matter how far apart we moved or how long we went without talking sometimes, she would always be there for me, and I would always be there for her. And no boyfriend, governmental agency, or other job or circumstance would ever come in the way of that.

We were forever-Galentines.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

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harlowsbby · 1 year

Text

Impalas and Air Force 1’s part four

"Jack hasn't been the same since Y/N left, I think I saw him once or twice today." Neelam told Nemo, Urban was just about to come around the corner and get a snack but stopped when he heard the two of them talking.

"What exactly happened? He didn't tell me anything." Nemo asked Neelam and she sighed.

"Well as far as I know Y/N broke up with him that's all he knows she wouldn't tell him why, but he's been hurting ever since she left." She frowne; everyone has been feeling pity on Jack ever since you broke things off with no explanation.

"So, is he basically like depressed?"

"Well, I'd say he is I mean you know Jack isn't one to show his emotions or talk about his feelings so

I'm not sure but l am guessing he is."

Urban felt horrible he didn't want Jack to be depressed he just wanted what was best for Jack and he convinced himself that the two of you breaking up was the best thing for him, but boy was he wrong.

"Well, he needs to cheer up before tonight he's performing at one of the most historic arenas in the world, we don't have time for him to be moping around." Neelam nodded her head in agreement.

"I agree with you Nemo let's hope he cheers up by tonight at least somehow."

"My biggest fear is he doesn't cheer up then what happens?" Nemo asked Neelam, she let out a big sigh.

"We might have to end this tour, Jack loves giving his all to his fans and if he isn't himself, they'll definitely pick that up."

Urban walked back to his room he had to figure out a way to get Jack and You back together he realized now that he was wrong, he realized that you were the glue to keeping Jack sane and going and he just prayed you'd be willing to take him back.

He sat at the edge of the bed and picked up his phone, his finger hovered over your name on his contact list.

"Here goes nothing." After a few rings you finally answered the phone. “Hello? who is this.” Ouch that hurt you didn’t even have his number saved which was understandable seeing as he’s caused so much stress in the last 24 hours.

“It’s me uh Urban.” You sighed and rolled your eyes wondering what he wanted now.

“What’s up Urban?” Urban licked his lips and closed his eyes praying that you’d take Jack back.

“Can you take Jack back.” He asked bluntly which honestly caught you off guard, why would you take Jack back especially after he cheated on you.

“Urban, are you hearing yourself right now? You just told me Jack was cheating on me so why would I go and take him back.” You weren’t sure what Urban was on or where he was going with this, but you honestly just wanted to hang up.

“I know if I explain it over the phone, it’ll be a mess, but it’ll be a mess in person but at least I’ll have a witness incase things take a bad turn.”

“Urban what time are we meeting up? My flight leaves for Atlanta later on tonight so it needs to be before then.” You didn’t want to talk to Urban but what else did you have planned; you were stuck in London with no friends or family.

“Meet me outside the hotel later on in about an hour or two and we can walk to the tea shop down the street, does that sound good?” Urban asked, you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Sounds good I’ll see you later Urban.”

“Let’s just hope things go well.” Urban told himself but he knew before he met you, he had to talk to Jack.

Getting up he walked over to Jack’s room on the way he had passed the living room where Neelam and Nemo sat, they looked up and gave Urban a few dirty looks ever since they found out Urban was trying to breakup Jack and You they haven’t talked to him since, they wanted him to fix things between the two of you and even though Neelam didn’t know Urban set up the fake texts she was just certain it was him.

He was a bit hesitant, but he knocked on Jack’s door anyways at first Jack didn’t answer but after a few knocks he eventually did.

“Urban? what’s up? you can come inside.” Jack let Urban in the room and his eyes widen seeing the state of Jack’s room.

He had a pile of clothes laying on the floor and I mean sure they were in a hotel suite so there wasn’t exactly anywhere for him to wash clothes but usually Jack had them tucked away in his suitcase, he had empty plates with pieces of food still on them. Jack wasn’t a messy person at all so seeing this surprised Urban.

Urban even had to plug his nose a few times the smell in this room was indescribable, he looked at Jack who honestly looked like he needed a long shower, he had stains all over his shirt which he assumed was once white, his curls were everywhere and sticking onto his forehead he just didn’t look like himself.

“Can I talk to you about something Jack.”

“Yeah, you know you can talk to me about anything Urban, what’s up?” Jack watched Urban intently he watched how Urban’s body tensed up.

“Well, you see I kind of made up a lie about you cheating on Y/N, I had Stassie text me as if I was you and made it seem like you were cheating on Y/N and I’m the reason why she broke up with you.”

Once Urban finished talking he let out a huge breath he didn’t even know he was holding in, Jack just looked at Urban trying to comprehend everything he just said.

“So, you’re the reason I’m no longer with Y/N, you’re the reason why everything just keeps going downhill.” Jack was pissed he felt betrayed he had let what happened the first time go he forgave Clay and Urban but for Urban to turn back around and do the same thing again was just intolerable.

“Jack it was for a good reason.” Urban tried to protest but Jack wasn’t trying to hear it.

“For a good reason? Are you kidding me right now what was the reason Urban please tell me so we can get this over with!” Jack yelled; he paced around the room running his fingers through his already messy hair.

“You weren’t being yourself she was turning you into some big softie and honestly I wanted the old Jack back.”

“The old Jack? I don’t want to be that version of me Urban why can’t you understand that this new and improved Jack is the version of me that’s here and staying, Y/N makes me happy she Kees be going even on those days when I don’t see the purpose in moving forward, she was my everything and you took that away from me once again.” Jack’s voice cracked as he expressed his feeling to Urban, Urban hung his head low he hated himself for even starting any of this drama.

“Urban I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying I was happy I was enjoying myself and my life and I know I should never depend on someone as my happiness, but Y/N was my happiness she was my home away from home.” Jack’s voice cracked while he spoke about you and that’s when Urban finally realized what he did was wrong Jack needed you and You needed Jack.

“I’m sorry Jack I promise I will make everything better.”

“How Urban? she blocked my number she won’t answer none of my calls or texts and I’m just supposed to believe that that you’ll find a way to fix it when you’ve been ruining everything.”

Jack flopped back into his bed and put his head in his hands, Urban was determined to make things right between the two of you.

“I promise Jack everything will come together.” Urban gave Jack a faint smile before getting up and leaving, checking his phone he had seen you messaged him.

Y/N

I’m on my way to the hotel

Making his way downstairs to the hotel lobby and outside, he waited around the side of the hotel where he said he’d be meeting you at. After a while of scrolling through his phone he was interrupted by someone tapping his shoulder. Looking up he jumped slightly at your appearance.

“Y/N is that you?” You always took care of your appearance; your nails were always done as well as your hair but now you looked a mess. Your hair was going in every and any direction a few of your nail were chipped, whenever you were frustrated, you had this bad habit of chipping and breaking your nails, you also had stains on your shirt just like Jack they weren’t as noticeable, but they were there.

“It’s me I know I look a mess.” You laughed, shifting from one leg to another suddenly feeling insecure. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I know you’re going to hate me but those messages I showed you the other day.” Urban spoke slowly you raised your eyebrow and waited for him to keep going. “None of those were true they were all fake Jack was never cheating on you I lied, and I feel horrible about it. Please take him back Y/N he’s a crying mess without you.”

You didn’t know what to say your first instinct was to slap him for making up more lies but you were just done you had no more energy for this.

“I’m sorry Urban but I just can’t get back together with Jack maybe everything you said was a lie, but I’m done I can’t keep doing this back-and-forth stuff anymore.” It was draining the energy and life out of you, and you had enough.

“Please Y/N you can’t do this to Jack he’s a mess you have to take him back if not Neelam and Nemo are cancelling his tour and you know how important this tour is to him, it’s his first world tour.” You did know how important this tour was to Jack and hearing that it might be cancelled made you feel bad.

“I’m sorry Urban but I’m done I just I can’t anymore.” You started to cry, “Y/N please come on you can’t do this.” You whimpered and covered your mouth to stop your lip from trembling. “I can’t Urban I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

Urban watched you leave he sighed heavily he fucked up and now you really weren’t taking Jack back, he had ruined everything he let his jealousy of his best friend having a stable and healthy relationship get the best of him he hated the way someone else was making Jack happy and he now knew the mistake he made.

Later that night

“Jack get up you have to get ready for the show it’s literally in a few hours.” Neelam shoved and attempted several times to removing Jack from his head, but he didn’t budge.

“Leave me alone Neelam I don’t want to perform tonight or ever again.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic Jack come on and get up.” Drama came into the room and shook his head at Jack. “I got this Neelam let me handle it please.” He told her.

“Jack man look I know things with Y/N didn’t work out but that doesn’t mean you sit around and feel sorry for yourself or reminisce on past events we worked hard to get to where you are today, remember that young man who came up to me and started rapping and was rapping his ass off to prove everyone wrong?” Jack was now sitting up in the bed giving Drama his full attention.

“Look how far you’ve came Jack you’re performing in sold out arenas all over the world you’ve been Grammy nominated three years in a row, you’ve achieved so much in this year let alone and you can’t mope around. If things with Y/N are meant to be then God will make that happen but for now you need to get up and get ready. you have about a million of screaming fans waiting for you to put on a show for them, can you do that or not?”

Drama was right Jack has achieved so much this year and if things between the two of you were supposed to be then God will make that happen.

“I can do this.” Jack smiled as well as Drama, he brought Jack in for a hug. “Now let’s get shit poppin.”

You were now on your way to the arena Jack was performing at, after Neelam called you, she had convinced you to come to his show and try and talk things out with him afterwards, it took a lot of convincing, but you finally agreed. You were nerves to say the least. You weren’t sure how Jack was going to react when he saw you again, the possibility of him already moving on was flooding your mind and you hated that.

“We have arrived Ms. Y/L.” The driver smiled at you through the mirror you gave him a smile back before stepping out of the car.

“Here goes nothing.”

“Y/N is that you?” Ace smiled when he saw you the mention of your name caught everyone’s attention.

“In the flesh.” you smiled and laughed as they all ran towards you taking turns hugging you. “What made you come?” Urban asked.

“Well, I realized Jack makes me happy and I make him happy, I don’t care what anybody thinks or feels anymore all I care about is my happiness and Jack’s”

“That’s all that matters.” Nemo told you. “Y/N I am really sorry for everything I’ve started I feel so bad.” Urban apologized you gave him a faint smile before pulling him in for a hug. “I forgive you Urban but if you pull something like that again you’ll be in the hospital.” Everyone laughed and you looked around the room wondering where Jack was.

“Where is Jack?” You asked and Neelam smiled before pointing behind you.

“I’m right here baby and I heard every single thing you said.” Your vision got blurry instantly with tears, you turned around and ran into Jack’s arms. He picked you up and spung you around a few times making you squeal before putting you down.

“I’m so sorry Jack I promise I’ll never leave you again.” You cried out and took his face in your hands God did it feel good to touch him again.

“I’m sorry too baby, I love you so much Y/N. You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“Well I’m happy for this little reunion but Jack you’ve got fans outside chanting your name so let’s go and put on a damn show shall we?” Drama laughed and Jack smiled but before he went on stage he gave you a kiss a real kiss filled with so much passion and emotion.

“You’ll be here when I get back right?” He joked and you laughed and shoved him back playfully. “I’ll be here Jack, always and forever.”

author’s note 💗

damn I can’t believe I finished my first series after starting so many before and never finishing 😌 but I hope you all enjoyed this mini series and let me know how you feel about everything.

tag

@heavyhitterheaux @nattinatalia @moody4world

@hoodharlow @mortirolo @softtcurse

@harlowthot @alowkeyvibe

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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mooncherrv · 2 years

Text

Meet the Family: Part 1 - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Character(s): Jake "Hangman" Seresin x FlightAttendant!Reader Genre: Fluff and some smutty undertones maybe Summary: In which Jake takes you to meet his family when you have a 3 day layover in Dallas. Author's Note: i just AHHHHHH ok anyways Masterlist | Part 2

"I can't believe you're ditching me to go hang out with your hotshot pilot boyfriend." your crew mate said as the two of you exited the terminal. "Hey. Not all of us can see our boyfriend constantly plus next time he's in San Diego he'll be on base so I won't get to see him much." you said as you dragged your suitcase behind you. "Fine fine. At least introduce me to him then. You've been together for 6 months and not once have I met him." she said. You turned and gave her a look. "What?" she asked. "You were there when I met him. What do you mean you never met him?" you pushed her lightly in the side. "Oh my god he's the airplane guy? YOU ARE DATING THE HOTTIE FROM THE ONE FLIGHT?" she said, rather loudly, causing a few people to look at her. "Yes. Now, go to your hotel loser. I'll see you on the flight back to SF." you told her. "Send me photos of you and airplane hottie! And be safe kiddo. Wrap it before he taps it!" she said in a sing song voice before walking off.

Jake: You look beautiful today ❤️

You looked at the text on your phone and began darting your eyes around to find Jake, eventually spotting him towards the exit and running towards him, now earning yourself a few odd looks from tired travelers. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Missed you darling" he said as he grabbed your suitcase from you. "Would love to hold you longer but the cops are gonna yell at me for taking the spot for too long." He said as he held out his hand for your to hold and led you to his car. One you two were situated in his car and on the highway he glanced over at you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. "So airplane hottie huh?" Jake smirked. You looked over at him wide eyed. "You heard that?" you said as you put your hands over your face. Jake laughed. "Your friend said that a bit loudly. So did you give me that name?" Jake questioned. "Maybe. Maybe not." You responded with a smile. Jake looked over at your with a smirk and shook his head. "You are very cute when you get a little shy." Jake said. "Hmm we can talk about the nickname later, now, eyes on the road mister."

Once the two of you arrived at Jake's house, the second he closed the door his hands were all over you. "Calm down Jake, I'm not going anywhere." Your arms wrapped around his neck while his hands found their way around your waist before he rested his chin on your shoulder. You pulled away and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Let me go take a shower and then I am all yours for the next 3 days."

One thing about Jake was that he is very observant and does many things for his partner without even mentioning it. You offhandedly mention you enjoy a specific meal? He learns how to make it. You seem to enjoy a specific candy? He gets it for you next time he sees you. In this case last time Jake was at your house in San Diego he took a photo of the shampoos, conditioners, body washes, and even lotions you used and he bought them and out them in the bathroom you used when you were at his house in Dallas. When the two of you decided to go from casual dating to a more committed relationship he immediately cleaned up his drawers and closet to make room for things you wanted to leave at his house. Despite all of this he never expected you to do the same, though you ended up doing similar things for him as it felt less lonely going home and seeing some of Jake's things laying around the house to remind you of him.

Returning from a shower you see Jake sitting on the couch watching the highlights of a recent football game. As he hears your footsteps his head turns and he smiles at you. "Enjoy your shower?" Jake asked with a smile. You nodded in response and sat next to him on the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder. "You got the stuff I use at home. Didn't have to do all that for me." Jake only hummed in response before he turned off the TV and faced you. "I have a question." Jake says. Your head tilted "I may have answers." Jake seemed nervous as he rested his hands upon yours. "Do you want to meet my parents tomorrow? I mentioned you would be in Dallas for a few days and she really wants to meet you. It would just be tomorrow and then it's just me and you for the other 2 days you're here." He held eye contact with you as he spoke. "I'd love to meet your parents Jake. It would have been nice to know in advance so I could have packed nicer clothes though." your arms wrapped around his neck and he lifted you onto his lap before he kissed your cheek. "It was last minute. She called me while I was driving to the airport." You lightly slapped his shoulder which resulted in a small "ow" to fall from his lips. "What did I say about talking on the phone while driving, Lieutenant." you said sternly before soft laughs left both of your mouths. "I've done worse while driving before love, you would know because you were there." he said with a smirk. "Pervert." you coughed. "What was that? Didn't quite catch that." Jake said as he pulled your body closer to his chest. "Huh? Nothing. Must have imagined that." you said with a sweet smiler, the smile. The smile he fell for the first time he saw you for the first time. "That's what I thought. Now, let's go to bed. It's late and you've been working all day." He said as he stood up, carrying you in his arms. "Jake, I'm not tired. I wanna spend time with you." you mumbled into his neck. "Oh, sweetheart, I can make you tired don't worry"

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader

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cap-ironman · 1 year

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Cap/Iron Man Remix 2023 Masterlist and Creator Reveals

Here it is: the final masterlist and the creator reveals for Captain America/Iron Man Remix 2023! Below you'll find all 17 remixes created, with 6 written for Remix Exchange, 7 for Remix Relay, and 4 created for Remix Madness. If you haven't checked out the works during the reveal period, please take a look at all of the wonderful remixes and leave some love for all the creators!

Sweet CHAIN

1. Unintended Consequences by Neverever (616, T, 3600 words)

Tony is sent back in time to fix a time anomaly, but in fixing the anomaly, he ruins Steve's life.

2. Time Is Right (The Remix) by navaan (616, G, 2418 words)

A time agent needs help with fixing something - and for some reason he needs Tony Stark for the job.

3. Looking Up (the fixed fates remix) by Lets_call_me_Lily (Marvel Noir, T, 2109 words)

Tony Stark, adventurer extraordinaire, treasure hunting expert, beloved of thrill-seekers everywhere, finds himself grudgingly fixing up a zeppelin. Luckily he's got some decent company. Unluckily, that decent company's not gonna last long.

4. crash (landing into you remix) by wingheads (Marvel Noir, T, Art)

tony had a lot of fun working with steve even though he doesn't get along well with the brass. he didn't know the hurt would be just as much.

5. Crash Landing (The Mile High Club Remix) by wynnesome (616, E, 6219 words)

Steve wants to join the mile high club, so he and Tony take Tony's new jet prototype for a private test flight. An alien craft crashes their private party. Steve goes down -- and not in the sexy way. Tony smiles, the grin that lets him feel lazy and but also razor-edged at the same time. "Official test flight's tomorrow, but what if I said I'm in the mood for a joyride today?" Surprise colors Steve's face a deepening sunset pink. He licks his lips, shining them up. "You mean..." Some time back, he'd confided in Tony that the idea of "the mile high club" was probably silly, but still sounded sexy. "We will absolutely make that happen," Tony had told him, rock-solid certain. "Right time and place. That is a promise." "Unless you're not in the mood?" Tony's just toying. He knows the answer. Steve's posture hasn't changed, but it's telling in the way Steve's almost visibly thrumming now, and those sky-soft jeans are showing it in stretch lines that frame the hard truth happening behind Steve's button fly. "Yeah," Steve says. "I'm in the mood."

6. Waiting and hoping by hkandi (MCU, G, 2668 words)

Steve, Tony, and Natasha are flying back after a successful mission, and the two men take a step beyond dancing around feelings. But then aliens show up, and it all goes sideways, or does it?

7. Flying with Love (It's Always Aliens Remix) by Neverever (Avengers Assemble, T, 1380 words)

When Tony and Steve go flying and run into aliens, Steve has unpleasant memories. At least Tony is there for him.

REMIX EXCHANGE

★ Blame It on My Star Sign (The Blue Heart Remix) by ralsbecket (MCU/Fantastic Four (Movies 2004-2007), T, 6457 words)

Fending off Doombots whenever Victor von Dickhead felt the need to throw a wrench in their plans was never exactly his definition of a perfect date with Steve.

Remix of Heart of Blue by geekymoviemom

★ Careless Whisper [A Shortcut to Happiness Remix] by Missy_dee811 (Ultimates, T, 2418 words)

Seconds later, the driver pulled up. He double parked across the street and waited, unhurried. It was just Steve who was uneasy. And just as he turned to see if Tony and the owner were still chatting, he felt a hand glide up the small of his back. Feeling more than hearing Tony’s lips move as he spoke. “Come home with me, darling.”

Remix of A Shortcut to Happiness by Fluffypanda

★ The End Never Came by geekymoviemom (MCU, T, 4664 words)

As Steve keeps watch over Tony as he sleeps, he is informed that he has a message, one that Tony recorded when he was adrift in space, expecting to die.

Remix of Before The End by navaan

★ My Dream, Your Nightmare (Again in the Dark Remix) by navaan (616, E, 1414 words)

Tony wakes to an empty bed and remembers a time when he was betraying Steve, because the world was threatened to be destroyed by incursions.

Remix of Dreams and Nightmares by Missy_dee811

★ out of the mouth of babes (a childish remix) by Fluffypanda (MCU, T, 3745 words)

Tony doesn't know how to deal with a child-sized Steve that seems to think they're friends.

Remix of Kid Steve by Neverever

★ Unexpected Heat (Pole Dancing Man Making It Rain Remix) by Neverever (Marvel Adventures: Avengers, T, 1667 words)

Tony worries about Steve during their mission at a local strip club, but he finds he should have other concerns instead.

Remix of Make It Rain Emerald Bills for Me by ralsbecket

REMIX MADNESS

★ Reaching Inside An Armored Heart by MayBiTheWay (Avengers Assemble, G, 3881 words)

Realistically, asking Tony Stark out on a date was a big deal, Steve knew he needed to do some convincing, but not in a million years he’d think Tony’s answer would be this certain, this final. But he was not about to give up on this, on Tony. It's just that there have been more pressing things to deal with at first, like return of the Skull or MODOK...

Remix of An Armored Heart by ishipallthings

★ watching seabirds fly (Nightcap Remix) by ishipallthings (MCU, not rated, 1060 words)

A beach wedding had sounded romantic. (In which Steve and Tony sneak away for a moment by the beach on their wedding day, and deals are made).

Remix of Nightcap by Neverever

★ Your Mouth Gives Me Bad Ideas (Kidnapping Day Remix) by ishipallthings (MCU, T, 3445 words)

The first time Steve kisses Tony, it’s in the cockpit of the Quinjet, right in the middle of Tony insisting that no, I’m fine Rogers, I don’t need to go lie down, and someone needs to fly this contraption properly. He knows it’s a bad idea before it even happens—he kisses Tony anyway. (Or: 5 times Steve kissed Tony even though it was a terrible idea, and 1 time it wasn't a bad idea at all)

Remix of Kidnapping Day by navaan

★ Consequences Of Living With Tony Stark (Consequences Of Living With Steve Rogers Remix) by tinystark616 (MCU, M, 1162 words)

Living with Tony Stark is not at all how Steve thought it would be. It is, in fact, much better. The only problem is that Steve is in love with him, and decides to keep his feelings to himself, afraid of ruining their friendship. That is, until he catches Tony touching himself and moaning his name.

Remix of Consequences Of Living With Steve Rogers by MayBiTheWay

Don't forget to leave kudos and comments on the works you've enjoyed! You can either browse through the individual links above, or go through the Remix collections on AO3:

★ 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Remix Exchange

★ 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Relay Remix

★ 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Remix Madness

And with that, we've wrapped up Captain America/Iron Man Remix 2023! Thank you to all of our participants, and we hope everyone had fun!

Participants, feel free to share and crosspost your work! If you're posting your work onto Tumblr, please use the #capimremix tag among the first five tags of your post so we can spot it and reblog it to the community Tumblr.

#stevetony #superhusbands #stony #capimremix #capimevents

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currently-stanning-bts · 1 year

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Who Are You -Namjoon x reader-

Namjoon x reader

Category- Angst no fluff

warnings- none, just some angst, if you don't like angst please don't read :) not proof read, so sorry if there are any typos!

Authors note: This really hurt me writing this tbh. But every time I listen to "who" by Lauv ft. BTS, I get ideas about writing something, and since Namjoon is my bias I had to write something with him in it. Don't worry all my Namjoon lovers!! I'll make it up to all of you!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You and Namjoon had grown up together and were practically inseparable. But that was years and years ago, now you two never talk. When you do, it is always work related. Something had happened, you're not sure what, but something in him changed. You had confronted him about it one day, but he brushed you off.

*Several years ago*

“Namjoon, what the hell?” you said annoyed. It was the tenth day in a row he had ignored all of your calls and texts. Namjoon looked at you, but chose to ignore you, making it seem like you weren't even there. “Kim Namjoon, if you don't at least say something to me, I’m going to be pissed.” you threatened. Still though, he said nothing. “Please, Joon. I just want to know what has happened. What's changed?” you tried speaking softer, but still, he chose to ignore your presence.

*three years later*

Namjoon was still ignoring you, you had tried over and over again to talk to him but he never listened. One day though, Namjoon came up to you during work. You worked at Hybe Corporation, and helped to form new k-pop groups. You were currently in the middle of packing for a trip. You would be a judge on the show I-LAND. You had been looking forward to it all month. You had been given information about the boys trying out prior to the day. You had even picked out two boys you hoped would do great. You picked Ri-ki or more commonly known as Ta-ki, and Nishamura Ri-ki also known as Ni-ki. You were in your office, you had to stop here before your flight because you had left something that you needed. Namjoon knocked on your door. “Come in,” you said, not paying attention to who it was, trying to look for that one important thing.

Namjoon walked into the room, he smiled when he saw you, his heart breaking slightly at how cold he had been to you the past few years. He truly regretted everything, but it wasn’t his fault truly! People had started dating rumors about him and another idol. Hybe threatened to put him on Hiatus if he didn't get cleared up soon. So Namjoon was forced to act as if you didn’t exist. These dating rumors though, there was some truth in them. Namjoon had given you a promise ring many years ago when he first found out you both had feelings for one another. He had promised you that one day you would be together, just not now. His career was just kicking off, plus, if Hybe found out he was dating someone, he could be forced to leave BTS.

Neither of you wanted that for him, so you thought it best to put off your relationship until he could work some things with Hybe out. Try to see if there was a way he could date someone without being let go. So far he hasn't been able to find a way. That was until today. Today he had talked to Hybe again, and they told him that since all of the rumors of him dating someone had left, fans had truly wanted to see him with someone. This person was someone who he was constantly with, and who would it be other than you!

Namjoon cleared his throat. You picked your head up, smiling at the person before your brain registered who it was. The color drained from your face, and your eyes went wide. You quickly pulled yourself together. “Hello Nam-RM,” you quickly corrected yourself, you didn't feel the need to call him that anymore with how he’s treated you the past couple of years. You saw Namjoon flinch slightly at the name correction. “How can I help you? It has to be quick, as you probably know already, I am getting ready to leave for I-LAND.” you said. Namjoon cleared his throat again, “I-I, um,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve treated you these past few years. I want to explain myself-” you cut him off with a scoff before you spoke, “tch, it's been how many years since you started ignoring me? Three? Four now? To be honest, I’ve lost count. I tried talking to you every damn day, but you chose to ignore me. Namj-RM, you looked right at me so many fucking times, and just ignored my existence. Now you expect me to sit around and listen to you ‘explain yourself’” you air quoted him. “Your stupid if you think I’ve waited all these years for you.”

That’s not true. You did wait for him. You kept the promise ring he gave you so many years ago, but your pride and anger wouldn’t let you admit that to him or yourself. It's funny because the thing you're currently looking for is the promise ring. You had placed it down when you had to do a monthly check up on BTS during their dance practice as well as vocal practice, when you got back to your office, you couldn’t find it to save your life. It had scared you, you couldn’t lose the one thing you still kept so dear to you.

“Please baby-”

“Don't call me that. You lost the right to call me that three years ago.” “I’m sorry, y/n please, just listen to me. I swear I never wanted to ignore you, but Hybe had threatened to put me on Hiatus because there were dating rumors about me and some other idol flying around. They weren’t good ones either, it was negative about me. ARMY tried to back me up with it, and somehow they were able to convince Hybe that I could date someone. It created a lot of positive buzz with the good side of ARMY, Hybe will let me date a person of my choosing! Plus!!! ARMY already knows about you, you’ve been in so many of our past Vlives, and vlogs, plus, they’ve seen you in some when you come in to do the monthly reports on vocals and dance! They want us to be together!” he told you, a smile on his face towards the end, before it went away, being replaced with a look of seriousness. “So please, y/n” he walked closer to you, you took a step back but he continued forward. You hit the front of your oak wood deck, and Namjoon was right in front of you. He took your small hands in his larger ones and looked you in the eyes, “please y/n, give me another chance. I swear to you I won’t fuck it up like I did last time.”

You shook your head, “no, Joon, you can't do this. You can't treat me like that then one day decide you missed me and come running back and think I’ve waited for you the entire time. I don't even know who you are anymore. Who are you? Are you Kim Namjoon, the man I fell in love with, or are you RM of BTS, the man that chose his career over his relationship? I need to know. ‘Cause you're not the guy I fell in love with. Something has clearly changed Joon, because you’re not the same, and if I’m being honest…” You paused for a second taking a deep breath to stop from letting tears fall before you continued again. “I really hate it. I’m sick and tired of waiting for you. And now I know that you're not the right one for me.” you felt tears in your eyes before you quickly blinked them away. You looked at the clock hanging above your door. You pulled your hands from him, “look, I have to go or I’m going to miss the taxi taking me to the airport.” You walked to the door, turning back to look at him one last time. He was just as handsome as the last time you saw him, when you were both on speaking terms with one another. “Thank you,” you started, “for coming to see me today, it means a lot. Thank you for telling me this, but just know, we” you motioned to you and him, “we wouldn’t be able to make it out there,” you pointed outside your office door. “I’m sorry RM, I truly am, maybe in another life where you are not an idol and I don't work for your company. In a life where you’re just a normal person, and we met on normal terms. But that won't be us anytime soon. So again, I’m sorry, but we can’t be anything.” and with that, you left, closing your office door on the way out.

Namjoon was left standing there alone. He felt tears form in his eyes before they fell down his cheeks. He walked over to the door and locked it, sliding down it after. In here he was just Namjoon, he didn’t have to deal with the outside world, being an idol, the rumors or anything. He placed a hand over his eyes as he looked up, tears spilling from his eyes. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He ruined something so beautiful just to try to keep that beautiful thing. He had ruined your relationship, the promise ring he gave you so many years ago meaning nothing anymore except for the empty promise he made. He truly fucked up, now he could never make it up.

*present*

You and Namjoon still don't talk, you had blocked his contact information, and you chose to work with a different group within Hybe. They let you work with ENHYPEN. You had hoped Ni-ki would get in and thankfully he did! He did such a great job too! You had also worked with Tomorrow x Together, you enjoyed working with them. A lot of this helped you forget about Namjoon, but part of you still longed to be with him. But you knew it was better this way. You could focus on work, and he could focus on making great music for his fans and the company. Namjoon however still longed to be with you, but he also knew better. He tried to contact you, but you had blocked him. So to ease his ever aching heart, he listened to your old voicemails and read over the old text messages you would send back and forth. He missed you deeply, but he knew he could never be with you, he wanted you so bad it hurt. But you could never be, you had said that exact same thing years ago, and now he believes it.

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falconcoast · 1 year

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traveling home | dainsleif x reader

day two. traveling home ft. dainsleif

event masterlist

you go home with dainsleif. or, well, you're supposed to. when your flight is delayed until tomorrow morning, dainsleif books a hotel room for you. years of pining come to light.

a/n: LATE AGAIN I AM AWARE had piano today why am i involved in so many extracurriculars. tbh i took a lot of creative privilege because i <3 this trope but anyways take a lil dainy he's so baby to me <3

tags: the best slowburn trope ever. you know what it is. no warnings apply! :D

as your childhood friend and roommate in your apartment, it was only natural for you to travel home together. you’d call it a blessing in disguise that he was willing to accompany you; he’d managed to drive through liyuean traffic all the way to the airport, carried all of your bags, and gotten to your gate with an hour and a half to spare. so when you had heard that your flight was delayed until tomorrow morning, dainsleif was quick to find a solution.

“oh, archons, how are we supposed to find a hotel room? it looks like everyone’s stuck here until tomorrow,” you lamented, looking at the bright red “delayed” notifications on the arrival and departure screen.

“i already booked a room for us,” dainsleif answered, showing you his phone. “shall we head out now? we can check in in thirty minutes.”

taking his hands in yours and squeezing them tightly, you grinned at him. “you’re a miracle worker, you know?!” you exclaimed, hugging him tightly around the waist.

a little over an hour later, you were in the hallway with dainsleif. the stormy weather outside batted at the windows of the hotel airport, violently wiping leaves across the panes. it echoed down the hall, where the two of you were the only occupants.

opening the door, you let dainsleif in first. “i’m so excited,” you chirped. “yeah, it sucks that we can’t be on the plane home right now, but at least we can, like, fully lay down now! and also not eat shitty airplane food. man, when i was going home for fall break, i--”

“there’s only one bed,” dainsleif interrupted your spiel.

“hey, i was talking about my--wait, what?!”

“there’s only one bed,” dainsleif repeated plainly, while you stuck your head through the door.

looking inside, he was making an astute observation. there was, in fact, only one bed with crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows. “oh,” you breathed out. you supposed that even a paragon like dainsleif could mess up every once in a while.

“there are no other rooms in the hotel. the rest have already been occupied,” your best friend declared, ushering you in and shutting the door. “it was a mistake on my part, y/n. i solemnly apologize. i will be sleeping on the floor to pay for my actions.”

“hey, what?! i don’t want you sleeping on the floor!” you pouted, placing your hands on your hips. “it’s really not a big deal, dain. you’ve been working overtime to make sure we get home safely. i’ll be the one sleeping on the floor.”

“absolutely not.”

“well, you’re not going on the floor whether you like it or not! not on my watch!”

…and that was how you and your best friend ended up sitting on the edge of the bed together in your pajamas together. it had been a long, long time since you and dainsleif had had a sleepover together. “reminds me of when we were kids,” you smiled, as he plugged his phone into the nightstand plug. “we used to watch scary movies in a pillow fort on nights when we had math tests in the morning.”

“yes. but we’re all grown up now, aren’t we?” he said, running a hand through his blond hair.

you stared at him after he said that. surely, if you were to tell your hometown friend that you slept in the same bed with him tomorrow, there would be a romantic implication to it.

you thought about it like you hadn’t had a crush on him since you were teenagers. dainsleif had always been there for you. hell, even today, he stood as your voice of reason in the chaos of getting home. he was like that when you were back at your apartment too. he always brought you a sweet treat when he came home from work, he offered a clean sleeve when you cried, and remembered the smallest things. it was impossible to not fall in love with dainsleif.

“y/n, you have been spacing out for a while. are you alright?” he asked, cradling your cheek. there he went again, being ever the gentleman. cheeks flaring with heat, you turned away and pressed your palms to your cheeks.

“it’s nothing!” you all but exclaimed, crawling to the headboard and diving under the sheets. a soft rumble of laughter erupted his chest as you hid under the comforter.

“good night, y/n,” he whispered, patting your covered figure on the head.

with a click of the nightstand light, the room disappeared into darkness. you still hid under the sheets, clutching onto the cold cloth for dear life. you were in proximity with the man you had had a crush on for years now and yet you still felt the need to hide, as if he could read your thoughts. the thought of him knowing tore your brain apart, and you knew it would only end with you losing your best friend.

you laid there for what felt like an eternity until you heard dainsleif shift. turning over, you shyly peeked from your position. surprisingly, he was already looking at you, and he was pouting. “did you need something, dain?” you asked softly.

the moonlight caught his eye, glowing an ethereal blue. “it’s nothing,” he replied, a bit too easily to be chalked up to nothing. you deadpanned. sighing, he turned away in shame. “i…i’m a bit cold.”

“aw, dain, that’s nothing to be ashamed of!” you grinned, shifting closer to him. “i dunno if i can provide any comfort, but i can come closer to you, if you’d like.”

you neared him, putting your hands together and placing them slightly in front of your chest. he copied your motion, drawing your bodies closer. “may i…?” he asked, fingers reaching out for your drawn hands. although you were slightly nervous, you nodded. his hand covered yours and it was both gentle and cold. staring at him again, you smiled before shutting your eyes.

you moved a little closer, so close you swear you could feel his heartbeat. after a small gulp, you decided that it was now or never. shifting your head, you laid it on his chest. opening your eyes to see his reaction, you looked away bashfully. “i’m a little cold, too,” you whispered.

dainsleif let a little note of contentment, he wrapped an arm around your neck, rubbing small circles into your back. your hand came to his chest, finally settled in a comfortable position.

his heartbeat steadily increased, thrumming in your ear. innocently, he kissed your forehead. “good night, y/n,” he said as you tethered onto the last bits of your sleepy consciousness. “i love you, ardently so.”

his words followed you into your dreams.

me when dain: (/▽＼*)｡o○♡

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dainsleif x reader #genshin impact reader inserts #genshin impact imagines

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roosterforme · 5 months

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How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey.

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead.

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person.

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you.

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much.

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that.

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one.

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first.

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

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

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave.

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway.

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back.

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you.

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long.

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes.

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times.

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could.

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

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

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him.

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day.

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing.

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night.

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again.

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped.

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far.

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend.

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier."

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter.

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top.

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you?

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider.

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing.

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him.

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't.

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried.

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him.

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

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was.

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately.

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave."

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed.

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey.

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month.

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave.

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic.

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug.

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real.

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect.

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you.

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table.

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb.

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea."

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight.

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house.

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

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

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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