asshlyyyy

[asshlyyyy]

You made me believe in right person wrong time

austin butler x reader

warnings: talk of break up uhm depression and talk of cheating maybe some swearing

Authors note; I worked crazy on this but it still kinda sucks my apologies

You were on a night out when you saw him and there was sweet music playing in the dark. Your friend saw how distracted you looked, as she stopped swaying her hips to the music, ¨you okay y/n?¨ she asked, which just made you nod your head a bit ¨yeah…yeah i´m fine¨. You said and grabbed your jacket then said your goodbyes.

You and Austin had broken up two years ago because… well it just didn't work out at the time and if you were honest you didn't expect you'd ever see him again. And maybe that was why you wanted to get the hell out of here. You didn't wanna face that confrontation because there is no such thing as right person wrong time is there?

You shook your head as you made your way outside until someone bumped into you. You looked up at the tall figure as you stared back into those familiar blue eyes. And you swear right then and there as he breathed your name out.

You could already feel yourself falling back in love with him just like you did all those years ago.

¨y/n?” he breathed his eyes and face lighting up. You smiled and nodded your head softly ¨hai austin¨ you spoke softly. As if the two of you never fell out of love, you and Austin met during the Cannes film festival .

the two of you clicked immediately and he asked you out not much longer after, the two of you made it official after like a month of dating. For some it may be fast but for you it was true love.

He really cared about you, some almost say he even loved you but he was never one to break old habits. Then he cheated on you and it absolutely destroyed you.. It took you two years to be you again and every girl he dated after you well,,, she was almost you..

¨how… How have you been?¨ he asked. You smiled and chuckled ¨i´ve been doing good what about you?¨ you asked politely. That's what he liked most about you were always so polite. There was no darkness in your heart whatsoever Only kindness.

¨i've been doing well…¨ he chuckled and smiled god that smile. ¨you uhm you´ve got some color back¨ he chuckled and you laughed. You laughed like you and she… almost laughed like you.. It wouldn't do. He wanted you, he needed you god if only he realized that sooner and he wasn't so stupid.

Some nights he got along without you very well and some other nights, he'd play your song over and over again.

He wouldn't know where to start but he did know he can't ruin this because this may be his only chance to make things right. What austin didnt know was the deep deep deep depression you fell into.

But that's all in the past now isn´t it? And little did Austin know that you were more than willing to give him another chance and start over again.

Austin looked over at his date who was clearly looking for him, you looked over and sighed softly ¨right you should probably get back to her.. I was about to leave anyway.¨ you spoke softly with a hint of sadness to it,

Austin nodded “bye y/n…” he whispered and you said your goodbye as well and left.

Meanwhile everything in Austin his body was yelling at him for how stupid he was being that was his chance! But… no way you would take him back not after what he did to you and he’d just have to accept that

As you got home you sighed softly and sat on your couch after getting changed into something more comfortable as your eyes welled up with tears, see you never believed in right person wrong time.

Because… if that person was so right for you.. why would the timing be wrong if you belong together? Honesty you could dwell on it for hours and you do.

Meanwhile in the bar where Austin still was with his date, and he wasn’t having a good time at all it was killing him really how could he be so so so stupid to let you go again honestly what was wrong with him?

After they left she invited him inside and he politely declined because she wasn’t you, don’t get him wrong he isn’t comparing you to her and visa versa but, there was something about you that would always lead him back,

when he didn’t have anything to think about he’d think about you and how badly he screwed that up. He just belonged to you and you to him.

Austin made his way to your house praying that you still had the same address and hadn’t moved in those two years, because how’d he find you then? Once he got there he rang the door bell with shaky hands.

You frowned slightly because who would be ringing your doorbell at this hour at night? You unlocked your door and there he stood those beautiful blue eyes, filled with tears and his hands in his pockets he looked like a little kid who just got scolded by one of his parents.

“A-Austin?” You whispered and looked at him rather confused because where is his date..? And that’s the next thing you ask “where’s your date..?” He chuckled because that was one thing he liked so much about you the way you wanted to make sure.

Others were safe and sound he admired that if he was honest sure he was a caring person but you just had so much love and kindness to. Offer the world.

“I brought her home don’t worry” he chuckled trying to hold back his tears as well as he could “listen I-im so sorry y/n, for the way I acted and the way I treated you a-and I hate myself for I-it I really do you didn’t deserve any of it,

I never was.. and I never will be. But I was wondering if you maybe consider giving me another ch-“ before he could finish what he was saying you grabbed his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss he stiffed for a moment.

Expecting anything but that as he grabbed your waist he finally returned the kiss after you pulled away from the kiss you smiled lovingly at him. Running a thumb over his cheek, “pick me up at 7 tomorrow?” You asked sweetly how could he say no to that.

“I’ll be here at 7 princess” he chuckled and kissed you once more, “thank you” he whispered once you pulled away again, you smiled at him and chuckled “you don’t have to thank me Austin. You made me believe in right person wrong time.”

Because that was the truth you were never a big believer of it but, Austin? Austin and you belonged together right back then the timing was just of. But now it was all okay again and the both of you have never felt better than to be back with their significant other.

#asshlyyyy recommends #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #austin butler imagines #austinbutlerimagine #austin imagine #austinbutler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Specific Chapter Warning: Death, Dying, Grief

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 19: I Lived

Smoke clouded around you and singed your nostrils as you felt the fires from the depths of the Underworld surround you. To anyone watching or listening, it would look and sound like your jet was hit with a missile, presumably killing you because there would be no evidence of an ejection.

Your bones creaked and snapped with each flap of your powerful wings as you gasped for air. Each breath you drew in felt like you were swallowing a thousand suns, but you had to push through the pain. You had to make it to Bradley.

By now, the Daggers and others on the boat would be coming to terms with the fact that you were dead. In a way, you already were. Transforming to save Bradley would seal your fate.

You accept it.

You could see him struggling, just up ahead, desperately trying to slow his decent. You flew fast towards him, stretching out your arms, reaching for him desperately before—thwack— his chest collided with yours as you pulled him close to you.

Normally, his weight wouldn't be an issue for you. But you were so weak. You struggled to hold onto him. You looked around. Frantically hoping for some place to land. You caught sight of some cliffs, just on the horizon. You could make it. You had to make it.

You beat your wings harder. Trying to get to the cliffs before your body gave out and you returned to mortal form. They were getting closer and closer, but as you approached, you could feel your power slipping. The flames surrounding you snuffed out. Dark spots clouded your vision before everything went black.

.............

A smokey, bloody cough and the sound of Bradley's voice slowly brought you back to consciousness. You could feel your body swaying. The light hurt your eyes as you slowly opened them, letting out a groan of pain. Glancing to the side, you could see that you were tangled in the ropes of Bradley's parachute. Looking up, you could see that the two of you were snagged in some stray branches growing out of the cliff you'd tried to fly to.

"Angel, hey, there you are. There's my girl." Bradley said as he smiled down at you. You focused on him, trying to check his counter, but it seemed as if it was glitching, flickering between the fifty years he'd had when you first met him, and just over thirty minutes.

As you watch the times change, never settling on one, you realized two things. One, a choice that Bradley would make in the next half hour would determine his fate. And two, that choice had to do with you.

"No." You breathed out, fighting to keep your eyes open. "They won't make it in time."

"Bradley, Love." You croaked out. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. "I'm right here, Honey. I can't reach you to untangle you. Just stay still. I triggered my ESAT tracker. Search and Rescue will find us and get us home." Bradley assured you.

That's when you knew what choice Bradley would have to make. There was no way you'd live long enough to be rescued, and you didn't have faith in the ability of the branches you two were tangled in to hold both your weights. Your arms were pinned to your sides. There was no way for you to cut yourself free. Bradley was going to have to.

Bradley was going to have to let you die.

"What do you mean. We're fine as long as we don't disturb these branches holding us." Bradley says, his voice wavering slightly.

"There's not enough time." You say as a violent cough racks your body as you struggle to breathe. Blood sputters out of your mouth and splatters on your face, and Bradley's cheek."

"Hades? You're hurt! Just hang on, everything will be okay!" Bradley cries out. He uses your real name. It's funny, really. It's been so long that you almost forgot what it sounded like when he said it.

"I'm not hurt, Bradley. I'm dying." You say in as soothing a tone as you can manage.

"No, you can't know that. You're a Goddess. Mortal things aren't supposed to hurt you!" Bradley tries to argue back.

"Bradley, Love, I've been keeping something from you." You sigh, about to come clean. " A few weeks ago, for the first time, I saw my own lifetime counter. It showed me I had a few months left. I was going to die on my birthday. Minthe came to visit me and said that the Fates told her my lifeline was crumbling because I spent too much time on Earth and because I was tethered to a mortal." You tell him. He swallows thickly.

"Minthe said I could ask Hera and Aphroditie to cut my tether to you, but I refused to. The Fates said if I completed my quest for worthiness, I'd be resorted. I thought I would be able to figure things out before something bad happened. But I didn't." You chuckle before coughing again.

"Minthe also warned me that if I turned into my true form, it would take too much of the life force I had left, and it would kill me." You tell him.

"Why—why didn't you tell me?" Bradley asks you. You see the tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Because you would have told me to cut my tether to you. To go complete my quest. That being with you wasn't worth my life." You shake your head. Bradley opens his mouth but quickly shuts it again because he knows you're right.

"But you're wrong about that, Bradley. That my life is more important than loving you. Because the truth is Love, I didn't have a life before I loved you. I was living, but I wasn't alive." You smile at him. "You gave me purpose."

Bradley smiles and lets out a small sob. "Why did you save me? Why did you save me knowing that it would kill you?" Bradley asks you tearfully. "You're my reason for living. You're my purpose, Bradley. Now that I've lived in a world with you in it, I couldn't imagine one without you. You're worth more to me than immortality." You tell him truthfully. "I love you."

"I love you too, Angel. There has to be a way to fix this. I can't lose you." Bradley sobs.

"It's okay, Love. I've accepted my fate." You sigh. "Bradley, I have had more than a hundred lifetimes. I have done and seen so much. And even though I have been alive so long, this is the first lifetime I have truly lived in. This is the only one I have enjoyed. I have loved and been loved by someone. I have made friends and been a friend to many, and most importantly, I learned to love who I was and that I am enough. You and our friends have given me more than I ever could have imagined." You say as you feel your own tears streaming down your face.

"I am not afraid to die, Bradley. And you shouldn't be afraid for me either. I know I'll be okay, and you will be too." You smile at him. "How am I supposed to live without you?" Bradley asks you, desperation in his voice.

"I'll always be with you. I promise." You assure him.

The wind blows the two of you, and you hear the creak of some branches snapping.

"There's not much time left, Love. I can't do it myself." You tell him as you struggle to try and reach your dagger.

"Can't do what?" Bradley asks you, panic in his voice.

"These branches can't hold us both. And I can't reach my dagger. Bradley, I need you to get the knife out of your boot and cut me free." You tell him. Horror flashes across his face.

"No. No! No, no, no, no! You can't ask me to do that, I won't!" He shouts through tears.

"Bradley, you have to. If you don't, we both die. And it's not your time, Love." You tell him.

"Hades—please don't make me." He cries.

"I wouldn't if there was any other way." You try to comfort him.

"It's okay. I promise. This is my choice. It's my choice." You assure him. "But—" He stutters.

"So much of my life has been decided for me. I've only really gotten to choose two things for myself. Loving you and my own death. I don't regret either of them. Please, Bradley. I need you to cut the rope." You try to persuade him.

You hold eye contact with him for what feels like ages before he slowly reaches for knife. You keep telling him it's okay over and over again as tears stain both of your faces.

"Love, before I go, I need you to promise me something." You say to him. "Anything." He tells you.

He moves to grab one of ropes, holding you. He drags the blade over it a few times before it snaps, and you drop a few inches. He repeats it three more times. When he gets to the last rope, you stop him.

"You have fifty years, six months, three weeks, five days, and eighteen hours left. Promise me I won't see you in the Underworld a second, too soon." You say to him. It feels odd saying his time out loud. You've never told him before.

"Hade—Angel—I" He trails off.

"Promise me, Bradley." You insist.

"I promise." He finally relents.

"Thank you. I love you. Remember, this isn't goodbye, this is see you later." You weep.

Bradley moves his knife to cut the final rope. Tears spill from both of your faces as you whisper "I love yous" to each other over and over again until the final stroke of his blade.

You don't feel yourself falling. It feels more like flying than anything. You look up just in time to see Bradley's time go back up on his counter, and you smile.

You stretch your arms out wide, accepting your fate as the air rushes around you. You're not scared. For probably the first time in all your centuries of life, you're at peace. You don't dread dying. You've been around death so much that it feels more like a memory, like an old friend welcoming you home.

You don't feel yourself hit the water. You don't feel the icy sting of it. Instead, you feel warm all over, like being wrapped in a blanket. You don't feel the water filling your lungs. Instead, you focus on watching the sunlight overhead start fading, more and more, until it all goes black.

............

The knife falls from Bradley's had as he tries to reach for the ropes attached to you, immediately regretting what he'd done. But it was useless. The cord slipped through his fingers as he cried out your name.

He could feel his heart breaking as he watched you fall further and further down. It shattered the moment he heard you hit the water.

Bradley was forced to dangled there, alone, staring at the waves you disappeared under for another two hours until he was rescued.

His eyes were red and practically swollen shut from the tears he cried. His throat was raw, and his voice gone from screaming in agony.

Maverick was waiting for him on the chopper. All it took was one look at him, and Maverick knew that Bradley knew you were dead. Only Maverick didn't know you died in front of him. He assumed that Bradley saw your jet explode. That's what everyone thought.

Maybe it was for the best, though. How would Bradley ever explain the truth?

When the rescue helicopter landed on the carrier, there were no cheers or victory celebrations. Instead, the Daggers, Cyclone, Warlock, and several others stood on the flight deck, all wearing matching somber expressions.

Maverick got off first. Bradley followed. His large frame practically dwarfed his uncle as he leaned on him for support. Hangman and Bob quickly rushed to his side, each grabbing an arm to help hold him up.

"Rooster—I—Bradley—I'm so sorry." Jake is the first to speak. "It's my fault. I'm so, so sorry." His voice cracks.

"It's not your fault, Jake. She knew the risk. We all did. She made her choice. We can't change it. All we can do is accept it and prove ourselves deserving of her sacrifice." Bradley tells him before wrapping his arms around Jake and letting out another sob and dropping to his knees on the flight deck.

It takes the Daggers and Maverick almost an hour to get Bradley back to his bunk. And even though it's beyond cramped, none of them dare leave Bradley alone. They're all too afraid of what he might do if he's by himself.

Maverick sits beside him on his bed. And even though it's small, Bradley manages to curl up with his head in Maverick's lap as the tears silently stream down his face. Maverick runs his fingers through Bradley's hair, trying to soothe him. It's the same thing he did back when he was a kid after Goose's death.

Maverick has to fight his own tears. He feels so bad for Bradley. Almost everyone he has ever loved is dead. Maverick knows he is the only family Bradley has left. He worries about what will happen to Bradley after he's gone. You were supposed to be there for him. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

...............

The rest of the deployment goes by in a blur for Bradley.

He's numb to everything around him. He doesn't remember debriefing about the mission. He just goes through the motion.

When they finally get back home, Maverick drives him to your house.

Penny and Amelia are there waiting for them with Hydra and Cerberus. When Bradley walks through the door, the two animals immediately rush to greet him. Bradley walks by them and sits down as they both stare at the door, waiting for you to walk in.

"She's not coming home. She's never coming home again." He tells them as he chokes back another sob.

Hydra and Cerberus each whine before coming over to the couch and sitting with Bradley. "She's gone, Hydra. She's not coming back, Cerby." Bradley tries to explain to him. He doesn't know if they understand yet, but he knows they can tell something is wrong. They don't leave his side for the rest of the evening. Not even as Penny makes dinner and cleans up or as Maverick makes himself comfortable in one of the guest rooms.

Neither of them leave Bradley's side as he trudges up the stairs to shower, nor do they leave when he flops onto the bed and burries his face in your pillow.

They are still there when Maverick rushes in later that night because Bradley woke up screaming from yet another nightmare.

He doesn't go back to sleep after that because every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is you, falling to your death and all he can think about is what he could have done differently.

.............

You thought you might have been in pain when you first woke up in the Underworld, or maybe cold. You'd never thought to ask the souls that stood before you waiting for judgment what it was like when they first found themselves there. It never occurred to you that you might be in their shoes one day.

But you certainly didn't expect to feel smooth silk sheets under your fingertips or a velvet pillow under your head. Nor did you think you'd be in such a pleasant, calm space. But that's exactly where you were as you slowly regained consciousness.

You sat up and stretched your arms out and discovered that your hair had been braided and you were wearing a flowing white gown with a gold belt around your waist.

"Is this what happened to everyone when they died?" You wondered.

You sat up from the bed you were laying on tentatively putting your bare feet on the floor. Taking stock of yourself, you were thankful to find that you still had all of your tattoos, the anklet from Bradley, and your wedding ring, but something felt off. You couldn't quite place it.

Standing up, you looked around the room only to realize that you weren't alone. There was a man standing a few feet away, looking out a window.

"Hello?" You called out to him timidly. He whipped around, and the tension from your body immediately melted away as you recognized him

"Poseidon! Brother!" You cried running to hug him. "Hades! Sister, you're awake!" He sounded startled as you jumped into his arms.

You pulled back and smiled at him, happy to see the brother you cared for and the only person from Olympus you actually missed.

"Si, it is truly wonderful to see you. Oh, how I have missed your brother!" You said as you hugged him tighter.

"Hay, I have missed you too, sister. You are truly a sight for sore eyes." He smiled down at you.

"Si, as happy as I am to see you, I'm curious as to why you're here." You tell him. "What you mean?" He asks you.

"I mean, why are you in the Underworld Poseidon? Why are you not with the others?" You ask him. He furrows his brow before he realizes what's happening.

Poseidon takes your hands in his, and both of you sit down at a stool in front of the window. "Hades, dear sister, we are not in the Underworld. You have been restored. We are on Olympus. Welcome home."

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#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x reader

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 18: Lose Control

The bed was cold without Bradley this morning. He'd left early to go to Maverick's workshop. The Bronco needed a few tune ups, and Maverick's shop had everything Bradley needed. He'd kissed you goodbye early this morning with a promise to be home by dinner. It had been a while since he'd been able to spend some time with his pseudo-father, and you encouraged him to have fun.

Resolving that you weren't going to get any more sleep, you rolled out of bed and stretched before meandering into the shower. Without Bradley in there with you, you felt the anxiety of being around water creeping in, causing you to spend less time in there than you would have liked.

You got out and dried yourself off before dragging your hand across the mirror to clear the steam.

You froze as you stared at your reflection.

There, looking back at you, was something you'd only see on other people. The neat row of numbers ticking away just above your head.

A lifetime counter.

How was this possible? You were a Goddess, never meant to die. But there, right above your brow, was the proof that you would. And what was worse is you didn't have much time. A few months. After doing the math, you realized your time would run out on your birthday. You'd barely get six months of marriage with Bradley.

You just didn't understand. It didn't make sense. But then you thought back to the cut from the mug at his aunts house. The soreness in your muscles. The fatigue you had. The bruises that seemed to come from nowhere that took ages to fade.

Something was wrong, and you needed answers.

You threw on some clothes and raced to your kitchen.

You grabbed a sprig of mint and quickly lit it. Moments later, Minthe appeared before you with worry written on her face.

"Hades." She breathed out as she took your hands. "I have horrible news, my lady."

"I'm dying." You say before she can speak again.

"How? How do you know?" Minthe asks. "I saw a lifetime counter above my head. I'm going to die on my birthday. But I don't understand. How is this possible? I thought I had one lifeline left." You say.

"Hecate and I weren't sure either. We were doing our regular check of the lifelines when we came across yours, and well—simply put, it's crumbling. It's very similar to when a mortal has a disease that kills them slowly rather than a fast snip of the line." Minthe explains to you.

"But I'm immune to mortal diseases." You insist. "Yes, we know that, which it was why we found it so strange. So we immediately consulted the Fates, and well—" Minthe sighs.

"What did they say?" You press her. "They said your lifeline is crumbling because you've spent too much time away from the Underworld and because—because you're married and tethered to a mortal." Minthe looks at you with sad eyes.

You swallow thickly. "So, if I go back to the Underworld, turn into my true form for a bit, that would help restore it?" You ask her.

"No!" She shouts at you. "Turning back into your true form takes so much of your strength. It would kill you!" She says. "The— for lack of a better term— best solution would be to ask Hera and Aphroditie to cut your tether with Bradley. That would give you enough time to complete your quest of worthiness."

"No." You state firmly. "I will not be doing that. Bradley is one of the few good things I have in my life. He is the first person to truly love me. He is my soulmates, and I will not cut our tether. If loving him means the end of my life, so be it." You tell Minthe.

.............

"I understand, my lady. Hecate and I will see what we can do to help stop your line from crumbling. But for now, please he careful. I do not wish to see you back home unless you are sitting on your throne." Minthe says. She takes your hands and gives them a squeeze before hugging you and disappearing, leaving only the smell of mint behind.

The rest of the day, you wrestled your inner demons on whether or not you should tell Bradley. On one hand, he deserved to know. But on the other, him knowing that he was the reason you were dying, it would kill him. So, you decided not to tell him, at least not yet.

You'd give yourself a few weeks to figure it out.

You could tell that someone was wrong the moment you and Bradley stepped onto base Monday morning. The air was charged with negativity.

You'd no sooner made it through the doors of the building before you were being pulled into a briefing room with Cyclone, Maverick, and Warlock.

"Gentleman," you began, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Commander Bradshaw," Cyclone cleared his throat, "we have credible intelligence that there is a cargo ship in the Pacific right now that is bringing a large amount of illegal weapons a bomb making materials to a nation that doesn't have our best interests at heart. It's currently being escorted by a foreign Naval aircraft carrier, which provides surveillance for it. We have been asked to take a small team out to destroy both the cargo ship and the carrier." He tells you.

"Admiral, when I came here, it was for a teaching position. I was brought here to train the next generation of aviators and to take the Daggers from good to the best. I did not come here to lead another death-wish mission." You say.

"Hades. We aren't asking you to lead the mission." Maverick chimes in. "Then what are you asking me?" You turn towards him.

"We are asking you how you would fly it. What would you do." Warlock tells you as he pulls up a graphic. You study the picture in go over the scenarios in your head.

"You're going to need five jets. Three singles and two doubles." You say after a long while. "Why?" Cyclone asks you.

A single and a double to drop a coordinated bomb strike on the cargo ship at the same time another pair strikes the aircraft carrier and then a single to provide back up in case you're spotted before taking them out and they launch their own airstrike." You reply.

They shake their heads, whispering amongst themselves.

"And of the Daggers, who would you pick to fly this?" Warlock asks you.

"Hangman, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy. Rooster as mission leader." You tell them.

"And why Rooster for mission leader?" Cyclone asks you. "Because he listens. He cares. He looks out for the whole team." You tell them.

"Well then, who would fly as the spare?"

"Me. Obviously." You say without hesitation.

"Commander Bradshaw, I'm sure you're well aware of Navy regulations and why you can't do that." Cyclone sighs.

"Admiral, with all due respect, I don't give a fuck about the Navy regulations." You chuckle. Everyone's eyes go wide.

"With the information you've given me, there is no way that our planes aren't spotted before delivering the payload. The other carrier will have time to launch aircrafts. The Daggers are going to need a spare ready to launch and go straight into a dogfight or tactical position. Who else has more experience in that than me? Furthermore, there is not a pilot, living or dead, in the Navy that's better than me. I'm not sending my friends and my husband into a situation like this without the best possible backup." You state.

"Well, Hades. If you're the best pilot in the Navy, why are you not naming yourself as the mission leader?" Cyclone challenges you.

"For the same reason you never put your best batter first in the lineup, you need someone to clean up the mess everyone else makes." You lean back in your chair.

"Commander Bradshaw, while your reasoning is sound. I can not send you on a mission of this caliber with your husband. I'm already bending the rules by keeping you on the same squadron!" Cyclone tells you sternly.

"Then I guess you'll have to find another squadron to fly this mission, sir." You chuckle.

"Excuse me?" Cyclone grits out, surging forward in his chair.

"Admiral Simpson, as you know, I have thirteen confirmed kills and zero failed missions. Do you know what thirteen confirmed kills and no mission failures get you in the Navy?" You ask him as you cock you head to the side. The men across from you are silent, their eyes fixed on you.

"I'll tell you what it gets you. It gets you a lot of friends. Powerful friends who are grateful for your work and owe you a favor. And I won't hesitate to go to one of those friends who out ranks you cash in one of those favors. Face it, you need me and the Daggers to fly this mission because no one else is as good as we are. So, either you bend the rules even more, or we all walk away. Your choice, Simpy." You click your tongue before crossing your arms.

You can see the rage in Cyclone's eyes. He knows you're right. Everyone in the room knows you're right. Cyclone holds eye contact with you, waiting for you to break, to call your bluff. But you're a goddamm Goddess who has never bowed down to a mortal and you're not about to start now.

"Fine." Cyclone breathes out when he realizes you're not bluffing. "I thought you'd see it my way, Admiral. Now, when do we leave?" You ask the men in the room.

"Friday. We will tell the rest of the Daggers today. That means every moment from now until we ship out is spent training. Is that understood?" Admiral Bates says.

"Understood. Now, if there isn't nothing else, I'd like to be dismissed to regroup with the rest of my team." Bates nods his head once, and you get up and exit the room.

..............

The news of mission doesn't settle well with the Daggers. You can tell they feel under prepared and caught off guard. You sympathize with them. Being given a mission of this caliber on such short notice, it's scary.

The car ride home with Bradley is silent. Neither of you know what to say.

The rest of the week goes by in a blur.

Soon, you're standing in a parking lot holding your husband's hand as you watch the rest of the Daggers, and the crew say goodbye to their loved ones.

Reuben holds his wife close, and Bob kisses his wife while cradling his son in his arms. Mickey's mom and dad hug him while Nat and Javy say goodbye to both of their families. Jake's girlfriend Jasmine clings to him as he buries his face in her natural curls and kisses her head. Maverick and Penny whisper hushed and tearful goodbyes before breaking apart and boarding behind you and Bradley.

You wish you could go up to all of the families that your friends are leaving behind and tell them that they are all going to be okay. You've checked. You know. The only person who might not come back for this mission is you. You'll keep them safe. You vow that to yourself.

You've decided to still not tell Bradley about your impending death. He has enough on his plate. You know that you probably aren't supposed to, but the two of you share a bunk. And even though the bed inside it is barely big enough for Bradley, every night, you're crammed in there with him, practically on top of him, soaking in every moment the two of you have together.

The night before the misson, you and the rest of the Daggers gather in the mess hall. You eat and talk, and it's almost carefree. But you and everyone else no better than to let your guard down.

That night, in that shared, cramped bunk, Bradley makes love to you like it's the last time he will ever get to hold you, and you love him back just as hard and just as fierce and with every ounce of your soul.

It's the early hours of the morning when the two of you finish. You both know you should sleep, but neither of you can.

"Everyone is going to make it. Right?" Bradley asks you as the two of you lay naked in the dark. You turn on your side using his tattooed bicep as a pillow. He drapes your leg over his hip and begins to trace the lines and patterns of your tattoos that he knows so well. Including the rooster that now adorns your hip.

"Yes. I promise." You say trying to make eye contact with him. It's dark, but you can still see the lines of his face relax. "I wish we could tell them, tell their families." Bradley says. "I know, me too." You agree.

Bradley cups your chin and brings your lips to his, and kisses you tenderly. "Why'd you name me mission leader?" He asks you. You'd been waiting for that question. "Because you're the best person for the job. You'll take care of everyone." You tell him. He opens his mouth to speak, maybe to argue with you, but a yawn comes out instead.

You both agree that you should rest. You need to be sharp for tomorrow.

A few minutes later, Bradley is fast asleep. Soft snores fall from his lips. You lay there in the darkness, gently tracing over his features. His forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his scars. You're committing all of them to memory just in case. Your lifetime counter hasn't changed, but you can't shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach that this is the last time you'll hold Bradley in your arms.

..............

The salt air stings your face as you stand on the deck of the carrier with your helmet in your arms. The sea breeze whips the stray strands of hair that refuse to stay pulled back around your face.

You and the rest of the squad have gone over the plan and your planes more times than you can count.

You hear a siren indicating that it's almost time. Everyone starts scrambling on deck. Bradley finds you and grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to face him.

You linger at the side of your jet, looking at your name, Cmdr. Y/N 'Hades' Bradshaw, in the thick, black, and blocky letters.

"We all come home." He says. "What?" You ask him, looking confused.

"We all come home." He emphasizes. You know exactly what he means when he says that. Bradley has your number. He knows that you wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice yourself for him or the others if it came down to it.

"Bradley—" You breathed out, but he cuts you off.

"No buts, Angel. We all come home. Six planes in, six planes out." He leaves no room for argument. "We are leaving this boat with eight souls. We are coming back with eight of them, too." Bradley says, as if speaking it into the universe will somehow make it true.

You check his counter. It's still got the same fifty years it had earlier today. You sigh and nod your head, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

................

Sitting in your plane as you listened to what was happening in the mission was torture. So far, everything was going according to plan.

Overwatch hadn't picked up anything unusual, and the weather made flying smooth. Maybe you were wrong, and maybe you wouldn't even have to deploy, and everyone would land back on the carrier safely, and they would unload you out of the catapult and tonight you and Bradley would stay up having wild celebratory sex.

But the idea of all of that was soon banished from your mind as you heard Coyote call about a rouge strike team.

You lowered the canopy, ready to be launched at a moments notice.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, beating so loud it filled your ears to the point that you almost didn't hear Cyclone screaming for you to launch.

You did so quickly. Your F/A- 18 sliced through the air as you pushed the throttle forward on your way to rescue your team. You were a few minutes out, and you could hear them calling out moves and counter moves to help each other stay safe.

Hangman was out of out of flares, and you could hear Bradley saying that he was coming to cover him. The closer you got to the team, the more smoke and gunfire you could see.

You quickly lined up a shot before sending a missle through the plane of one of the bandits that was on Phoenix. She and Bob thanked you as you circled back around. You directed them to head back to the boat and for Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy to follow them. You would help Bradley and Jake. There was only one other plane and you knew you could take them.

Jake called out desperately that he was out of ammo and missiles, and Bradley was almost out of flares. Thankfully, you were able to force the pilot of the enemy plane near some cliffs of some tiny island that ran along the shores' edge.

It confused their navigation enough for you to take them out. Quickly, you, Bradley, and Jake all made your way back towards the safety of the carrier while breathing a sigh of relief.

Only, it was short-lived because moments later, another bandit was on Jake's tail.

Before you could do anything, Bradley swooped in to protect him, using the last of his flares to throw the missile attack of, giving Jake time to fly ahead to safety, leaving Bradley with the bandit on his tail.

You were out of missiles and down to a few rounds of ammo left, but them enemy was locked on and so close to Bradley that if you fired, you might risk taking out your husband. You didn't know what to do.

Then, before you could think of a plan, you hear Bradley cry out that the other pilot and missile lock on him, and he had no way to deflect it.

You told him to quickly get as much altitude as he could. Bradley listened and jetted back up towards the clouds, giving you a chance to fire at the other pilot.

But you weren't fast enough. The enemy pilot was able to fire a final shot before plummeting into the water below. The shot was just close enough to clip the tail of Bradley's plane causing him to lose control.

You screamed for him to eject, panic setting in because you couldn't see his lifetime counter. You had no clue if this was the end for him. All you could think about was how it wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Thankfully, you heard Bradley eject and saw him burst from his cockpit before seeing the bright orange of his chute open.

But as he fell, you realized he was falling too fast. His parachute was tangled. If you didn't do something, he would surely crash into the sea below and die.

So, you ignored the warning that Minthe gave you because you knew what you had to do. You didn't think. You acted as you let the fire of your true goddess form burn through your veins one final time.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @sunlightmurdock @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @briseisgone @angelbabyange @marvelouslyme96

#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm fic #tgm #rooster smut

[asshlyyyy]

Strange love

Pairing: Nate Jacob’s x female reader

Warnings: choking angst a bit of fluff near the end cursing

Authors note: thank you to my wonderful wonderful girlfriend @asshlyyyy for the banner

you were at some stupid party you´re friend maddie dragged you to. and honestly? you were so over it already. you weren't the type for parties, a lot of people actually wondered why you and maddie were friends.

nate fuckin jacobs you fucking hated his guts he was ripped in every edge but you were ought to admit, he was a fucking master piece that wasn´t even why you hated him. he bullied you or well it was more like teasing. He called you ¨monroe¨ because your plan was to move away and become some big Hollywood star. honestly it almost seemed like he was jealous because he on the other hand. was gonna be stuck in this fucking town forever,

you walked to the kitchen and sigh softly, speaking of the fucking devil there he was in all his glory. he was wearing a white shirt, with a black button up and black jeans. you quickly looked away and grabbed yourself and maddie a drink. before the devil could spot you, to be fair you didn't feel like dealing with nate to be very honest you never felt like dealing with nate.

but before you could even walk out of the damn kitchen. you felt someone grab your wrist with a very strong grip. you just knew it was him, ¨fucking hell¨ you muttered to yourself. and turned around ¨Hello nate¨ you said looking up at the 6´5 man. who even is 6 fucking 5 it feels unncessary to be that tall, ¨nice outfit found it in you´re grandma her closet?¨ he chuckled sinisterly.

You rolled your eyes and was about to speak up but he put his finger against your lips preventing you from speaking. “Uh-uh-uh why are you here?” He spat as if he had an issue with you and not his ex girlfriend who was grinding on some random dude his dick.

¨because if you are here maddie is here¨ he muttered grabbing your jaw kinda harsh. ¨she is now what is it to you.¨ you said pushing him off ¨it's a party Nate people are gonna be there. get.over.it¨ you muttered and walked away. downing both drinks you sat down. next to rue she looked over at you ¨didn't think i'd see you here¨. she chuckled which made you laugh.

¨honestly neither did i, but oh well what can i say i´m a fucking people pleaser¨. you laughed as you leaned you´re head back on the couch. little did you know nate was watching your every fucking move. he wanted you hell he needed you. he wanted to make you laugh, but at the same time he also wanted to hurt you and see you cry.

an hour or so passed and you were still strung out on the couch talking with rue. ¨That's the beauty of a secret you know you're supposed to keep it¨ you laughed. until you were interrupted by no one other than Nate Jacobs himself. ¨get up y/n¨ he spat, you looked a bit confused and shook your head. ¨no i´m not getting up?¨ you spat through your own theeth.

¨i said get the fuck up before i fucking help you¨ he almost yelled. you shook your head once more brushing him off and going back to youŕ conversation. This is when Nate decided he had enough of your little attitude and picked you up, as he threw you over his shoulder. you started to hit his back. ¨put me the fuck down nate this isn´t funny!¨ you yelled at him. but he just seemed to ignore you as he walked into the upstairs bathroom.

he placed you on the sink and grabbed your jaw kissing you. you kissed back moaning softly into his mouth, ¨nate not h-¨ you tried to whisper. in between the kiss but nate just ignored you as he started to assault your neck, ¨why the fuck are you wearing this skirt? do you not see the way people are looking at MY girl¨ he muttered against your neck softly biting it.

¨i´m not your fucking girl nate maddie is and maddie will always be, the thing that happened between us was once, ONE FUCKING TIME¨ you said tearing up. this is what he wanted right? he didn´t fucking care about you, you were a replacement until he got back together with maddie.

¨don´t fucking say that y/n¨ he said grabbing your neck and choking you slightly as he pushed your back against the wall. you groaned ¨the truth nate? one day you hate my fucking guts and the other your madly in fucking love with me.¨ you muttered and it looked like he was about to open his mouth again but then you spoke.

¨ I can see it from the way you're looking at me, you don't even think i'm worth your time, you are so offended that I follow all the rules except for yours that. You don't care about the person that I might be but I am so much more than you can see i´ve had enough you hear me, ENOUGH I'M DONE¨ you said and pushed him off you walking out of the bathroom. you basically ran down the stairs and out of the house as you ignored Nate calling your name.

you had enough of this, honestly you had enough of life itself. you were sick and tired of it. but you couldn't just leave the people you love behind could you..? you sighed as you got home. Once again you were home alone but you didn't mind. you got changed into more comfortable clothes as you heard repeated. knocks on your front door you sighed knowing exactly who it was.

you made your way downstairs and opened your front door. ¨nate i really don-¨ you sighed crossing your arms as nate let himself in. ¨no your gonna sit down on the fucking couch and listen to me for once.” he muttered, closing the door and looking at you, you sighed and sat on the couch thinking to yourself ¨this must be good¨.

nate looked at you ¨don´t you fucking get it y/n, i´m fucking in love with you.. you´re all i think about sure i'll admit it.. in the beginning i was using you to get over maddie. but that changed that changed the minute you ended up in the fucking hospital because you decided to slit your goddamn wrist.¨ he yelled. you were surprised he even cared at all… you didn't think it affected anyone that much let alone him.

¨please just give me a chance¨ he spoke softly now sitting next to you, ¨i'm not saying it's gonna be perfect or anything but… i want you and only you¨ he said and caressed your cheek leaning in pressing his lips to yours. and you gave in, the kiss was rough but sweet at the same time. it's like he craved you just as bad as you craved him. ÿou crawled onto his lap and nodded your head ¨okay one chance don't fuck it up¨ you muttered against his lips pulling away slightly.

he smiled softly kissing you more gently this time and smiled. when he pulled away you yawned, hinting it was time for bed. He chuckled softly and got up kissing your head as he carried you to your room. He took his shoes off and his jeans, leaving him in boxers and his shirt.

he pulled you closer kissing your cheek, ¨goodnight y/n¨ he whispered and you smiled already half asleep ¨goodnight nate¨.

you said and soon you both drifted off to sleep you knew it wasnt gonna be a easy relationship but it was definitely gonna be worth it.

#asshlyyyy recommends #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs smut #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs #jacob elordi #euphoria #nate jacob’s ​imagine #nate jacob’s fanfic

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 17: Something Just Like This

Space. A place in this world to call your own. It's something you had always wanted—something you craved.

For a while, you had that here in your apartment with Hydra and Cerberus, and now Bradley. And you had loved the space you shared with them. Until she came along and contaminated it. Your home, the place that was supposed to be your safe space, had been desecrated.

Maybe that's why, when you woke up in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday, with Bradley still fast asleep, you found yourself scrolling through real estate sights looking at houses. You hadn't lived in an actual house on earth, ever.

The thought of having one never crossed your mind. Buying a house meant staying somewhere. It was a physical representation of permanence. Something you never had before.

But now, with Bradley, your husband, you wanted a place for the two of you. A place to raise your future family because you were done running. You'd found your place in this world.

You scrolled and scrolled until you found the perfect house. It was a four bedroom colonial. Two stories, fenced in backyard, and a large front porch. It had a pool, which you weren't thrilled about, but you knew Bradley would love.

It was in a quiet neighborhood in Coronado. The house had hardwood floors throughout, and the listing said it had been newly remodeled, which was evident in the pictures.

The outside had beautiful landscaping, which complimented the lime-washed brick of the exterior. The only drawback was the price. For most, it would deter them, but for you, who'd spent over a thousand years saving and investing on earth, it was a drop in the bucket.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you filled in your information to set up a meeting to tour the house at ten in the morning. You didn't want to tell Bradley because it's not something the two of you had talked about, but it felt so right.

So, in the morning, you told him you had some errands to run and a surprise for him when you returned.

When you came back home around two that afternoon, you were giddy with excitement. "Love, pack a bag." You announced to Bradley as you came through the door.

"For?" He asked you with a raised eyebrow.

"For Virginia Beach. I figured we might as well take advantage of this time off that we have. I know you've been wanting to go home for a bit, and I'd love to see where you grew up. So, I made a few calls, worked out a few things, and I booked us two first class tickets. Our flight leaves at five. You announce proudly as you go to your bedroom and pull out some suitcases and start packing.

"Woah, babe, slow down. What about Hyrda and Cerberus?" Bradley asks as you toss clothes at him.

"Penny agreed to pet sit for us." You tell him.

"Well, what about a place to stay? I normally stay with my aunt, but I can't just spring this on her." Bradley asks you concerned.

"Bradley, it wounds me that you don't have faith in me." You mock him as you turn around to face him for the first time. "I got us a hotel. Everything is taken care of. Now start packing!" You scold him as you return to your suitcase.

Bradley exhales, knowing that it's fruitless to argue with you. So, he relents and starts packing alongside you.

An hour and a half later, the two of you are being dropped off at the airport. You decided to Uber rather than leave either of your vehicles there.

The moment you get your bags out, a young man greets both of you. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw. I can take your things for you, and then you can follow me to the lounge."

Bradley looks a little surprised but hands your luggage over. The two of you follow the steward to the first class lounge and take a seat before getting a drink.

Bradley looks around as he settles into the plush chair with a glass of expensive scotch. "This is something else." He remarks. "Have you never flown first class?" You ask him.

"Never. When I fly commercial, I always try to upgrade to business because I'm too big to fit comfortably in economy." He shrugs his shoulders and continues to look around.

"You know, I sometimes forget that you're like, wealthy from being around so long. But then you buy me fancy watches and first-class plane tickets and I remember." Bradley chuckles.

"Bradley, Love." You lean forward in your chair. "I'm not wealthy. We are wealthy. You're my husband. For better or worse, what's mine is yours." You remind him.

"If you say so—still—it's a lot to take in." He sighs as he checks the time on his aforementioned expensive watch that you bought him.

A little while later, the two of you are on the plane tucked into your first class suite with all the bells and whistles, complete with lie-flat seats and a door.

Bradley is engrossed in finding out what all the buttons do when a flight attendant comes by with two glasses of champagne as you wait for take off.

"We didn't order these." Bradley says, but you pat his shoulder and chuckle. "They are complimentary. Perks of first class." You smile at him before grabbing the glasses and toasting. Minutes later, a dinner menu appears, and Bradley marvels at all of the choices, unable to decide.

You lean back in your chair and watch him over the rim of your glass. He's like a kid in a candy store. It warms your heart that you are able to give him all of this. You thought maybe completing your quest for worthiness was your purpose in life, but looking at your husband, you realize loving him is your true purpose.

The roughly six hour flight goes smoothly. After dinner, your suite is converted to a bed so you and Bradley can get some sleep. However, the two of you decide that joining the mile-high club was a better idea. You came with Bradley's hand firmly covering your mouth and his chest pressed against your back with him whispering absolutely filthy praises in your ear about how you were such a good girl for him.

By the time the two of you made it to your hotel late that evening, you were both thoroughly exhausted. You took a quick shower together before curling up to get some much needed sleep before meeting his family tomorrow.

....................

You woke up the next day extremely nervous.

Today, you would meet Carole's sister, Bradley's Aunt Marsha, her husband Tom, and their three children.

While the two of you were getting dressed, Bradley could sense that you were worried. The entire drive there in your rental car, he assured you that they would love you, and everything would be fine.

You felt nauseous as he pulled into their driveway. His aunt and uncle had a lovely home, and Bradley told you that they were great people, but this was all new to you.

You held his hand tightly as you climbed the couple of steps that led to the front door. Bradley rang the doorbell, and the two of you patiently waited for someone to answer. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze just before the door opened, and a lovely middle-aged woman with short blonde hair opened the door.

"Oh my goodness! Bradley! What are you doing here?!" The woman, who you knew had to be his aunt because she looked just like Carole, exclaimed as she pulled him in for a hug before cupping his face. She hadn't noticed you yet.

"Hey, Aunt Marsha! I had a few days off, so I thought I would fly out here and surprise you. I also wanted to introduce you to someone." Bradley said as you pulled you closer to him. "Y/N, this is my Aunt Marsha. Aunt Marsha, this is Y/N, my wife." Bradley smiled.

Bradley's aunt stood there silently for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face. You turned her head over her shoulder and called into her home. "Tom, Conner, Alyssa, Maddie, meet me in the living room. Bradley is here, and he brought his wife!"

Marsha ushers the two of you inside and directs you to her living room, where you sit down on the sofa.

"Marsha, what are you going on about?" And older gentleman, whom you assume is her husband, comes into room holding a cup of coffee before stopping in his tracks when he spies you and Bradley sitting on couch. You aren't sure what to do, so you shyly wave at him. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything, Bradley's cousin burst into the room. "Mom, what do you mean Bradley brought his—" a tall boy who has blonde curls similar to Bradley's stops short when he sees the two of you. "—Wife." He finishes in a choked tone. The two girls stand there silently, each mirroring their father's shocked expression with wide eyes and mouthed slightly agape.

Marsha stands up and scolds her husband and children. "Don't just stand there, introduce yourselves!"

All at once, the four of them move toward you. You and Bradley both stand up, and you shake hands with his Uncle Tom and his cousins Conner, Alyssa, and Maddie. You a sit back down, and there is an awkward silence in the room.

"Well, Y/N, tell us about yourself, honey." Bradley's aunt breaks the silence as she brings in cups of coffee for all of you. You take the mug and take a deep breath.

"Well, I'm a pilot like Bradley is, I'm originally from North Carolina. I'm thrity-one. I'm Greek. I have a dog and a cat, my rank is Commander, I graduated from the Naval Academy, and my parents passed away when I was nineteen. Oh, and my call sign is Hades." You say, telling them what you'd practiced on the drive over here.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry to hear about your folks." Marsha says. "It's fine, Mrs. Edwards." You shrug your shoulders. Bradley's aunt shakes her head.

"Mrs. Edwards is my mother in law. I'm Marsha or Aunt Marsha, whichever you prefer. We are family now." She smiles at you coming to sit by you on the couch and resting her hands over yours.

"Aren't you just the most beautiful woman. If there's one thing those Bradshaw boys can do, it's pick a beautiful wife. My goodness Bradley, she is gorgeous." Marsha compliments you. "Thank you." You smile back at her. "And she went to the Academy and is a Commander. That means she outrank you, doesn't it?" Marsha asks him.

"She sure does." Bradley chuckles. "Beautiful and smart. No wonder you couldn't stop talking about her when you came out to Maddie's graduation!" Marsha laughs, and Bradley blushes. You turn to him a quirk an eyebrow.

"Oh, honey, you should have heard him. He wouldn't stop talking about you!" Aunt Marsha says. "So, tell me the story, how did you two meet and all that jazz?" She asks you.

"Bradley was assigned to be my wingman, and we became friends and found out by accident that we were neighbors. We kind of danced around the fact that we liked each other for a while until Bradley asked me out on a date on my birthday. We went out the next day. Dinner and the boardwalk amusement park. He won me a stuffed shark!" You cheer as you tell them.

"Then Bradley got hurt, and I convinced him to move in with me, and last week, he proposed, and we eloped on the beach." You say, leaving out some of the more supernatural details before showing her your ring.

"This was your mother's ring, wasn't it?" Marsha asks with a few tears in her eyes. "Yes, yes, it was." Bradley says to her.

"She and Nick would have loved you." Marsha smiles at you. "You know, I never met two people who were more perfect for each other than my sister and Goose. You know he proposed after four dates. I guess when you know you know. I know Carole never loved anyone else after him. I hope they found each other in the afterlife and are happy together." Marsha sighs.

"They are." You sigh, and she looks at you confused. "I mean—I'm sure they are. Bradley has told me so much about them." You recover quickly. Marsha sighs before getting up to take your coffee cups. You offer to help her and follow her dutifully into the kitchen. You set the mugs down on the counter and turn to ask Marsha if she'd like help washing them.

But as you turn, your elbow catches the handle of one, and it crashes to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! Let me clean it up!" You drop to your knees to grab the broken fragments of ceramic. A sharp piece catches your index finger and you wince, drawing back at the pain.

You bring your finger up to examine yourself and notice the fresh, crimson blood leaking out of the cut. Your eyes go wide with shock. This isn't supposed to happen.

"Are you okay, dear? Here, let me get the broom." Marsha says as she scoops you to your feet and sweeps up the mess. "I'm so sorry." You say to her again.

"Oh, honey, don't you worry. There's a hundred more where that came from. Do you need a bandage? Come over to the sink and grab a stool, I'll clean you up." She says.

"I'm fine." You assure her as you wash the blood from your hands.

Hours later, you and Bradley's family, well, your family now, are gathered around the dining room tabled eating. The cut and dropped mug from earlier long forgotten.

The atmosphere is warm and welcoming and it's nice to sit down and have a family dinner where everyone wants you around.

It's nice to have a real family.

That night, when the two of you leave, Marsha and Tom insist that they have enough room for the two of you to sleep over, but Bradley tells them you already have a hotel room. His aunt makes you promise to come over again before you leave so she can show you some photo albums of Bradley through the years. When you return the next day, you spend hours flipping through them with her. Bradley blushes every time Marsha shows you one that he deems embarrassing, but you love every minute of it.

The two of you spend the next few days exploring. The day before you're set to leave, Bradley takes you to the graveyard where his parents are buried.

As you drive into the cemetery in your rented car, you hold tight to Bradley's hand. Afraid of what might happen if you don't.

He drives up a hill and stops at the top, pulling the car over to the shoulder and shutting off the engine. You both unbuckle, but you reach for his arm before exiting. "Bradley, wait," you say, catching him by the elbow.

"What's wrong, Angel?" He asks you with a soft expression. "I just—I just need to do something before we go out there. C'mere." You say to him as you pull him closer.

You lean over the console of the rental car and thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of Bradley's neck before pressing your foreheads together. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths hoping that your idea works.

You break apart and look down, and a smile graces your features as you see what you were hoping to see.

"What was that about?" Bradley questions you. "I was seeing if we were tethered." You tell him. He cocks an eyebrow, still unsure.

"Graveyards and one of the places that I can easily travel back to the Underworld. When I'm in my true goddess form, I can see the portals inside them. But when I'm in my mortal form, I can't. If I would accidentally pass through one, I don't know if I would be strong enough to make it back. But if I'm tethered to you, I have something connecting me here to the mortal world. It keeps me safe." You explain to him.

"How do you know we are tethered?" Bradley asks. "Look at your ring. You should be able to see it." Bradley looks down, and there's a gold string running between the two of you. "Holy shit." He breathes out. "How—how is that possible? How can I see this?"

"Because you're the King of the Underworld. And as much as I never thought they existed, Bradley, you're my soulmate. Only soulmates can be tethered. It's how they find each other in the afterlife." You explain to him.

"But, but I thought you said we couldn't be soulmates. That our marriage could never be real?" Bradley shakes his head.

"Ancient laws are tricky. But I think you made it real, Bradley." You say as the pieces fall into place in your mind. "How?" He retorts.

"Because you made me an alter the first time we made love. You said you would worship at my hips, worship me. You made me an alter, and so when we got married—"

"We married at an alter of the Gods, an alter for you." He finishes. "Exactly." You smile. "So what does that mean, Angel?" Bradley presses further. "It means they can't take you from me. Gods can't tear apart soulmates. Looks like you're stuck with me." You chuckle.

Bradley smiles and kisses you before stepping out of the vehicle and coming to open your door. You slip your hand in his as the two of you walk to the headstone that marks his parent's resting place.

The two of you walk up, and Bradley introduces you as if they were actually standing in front of you. He starts talking about you to them, and you can't fight the tears that slip down your cheek at his one-sided conversation.

It's moving to watch him talk about your love and your marriage to his parents. He does it in such an enthusiastic manner that it makes your heart swell. Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you close after a few minutes and the two of you bask in the silence.

"I've met them." You say after a few long minutes. "What?" Bradley whispers as he looks down at you.

"I've met them. In the Underworld. The day your mother passed. I was in the Underworld trying to figure out a way to stay. She walked into Paradise asking about "her Goose." I thought she was talking about a pet until she explained that Goose was he husband's call sign. I got to see them reunite. It was— beautiful." You say to him.

"So they really are together. You meant it when you said that at Aunt Marsha's house?" Bradley tears up.

"They are together and happy and still in love. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you really do look so much like your father." You say as you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes away some of his tears.

"I'm sorry I never told you before." You apologize. "It's okay. I understand why you didn't." Bradley says as he places his hand over yours. "I'm also sorry that I can't take you there to see them. If I was stronger—if I had my full powers—I could." You sigh, angry at yourself.

"It's okay, Angel. I know you could if you would." He whispers before kissing your forehead and pulling you in for a hug. The two of you stand there for a moment before you ask Bradley the question that's been on your mind. "Bradley, where do you want to be buried?"

He pulls back and thinks for a moment. "I never really thought about it. I always figured I'd either burn in, and there wouldn't be anything left of me or that I'd die alone and get boxed up and put in some military graveyard. But I think— I think I'd like to be buried here, with my parents. I'd like to have this view forever." He says as the two of you watch the hues of red and orange paint the evening sky.

"I think I can make sure that happens. Right here is going to be the perfect spot to spend eternity with you." You say. Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't say it, but he knows that he's going to die before you. But you've already promised him that you won't let him go without you. He just hopes you're both old and have lived a full life with that happens.

The two of you say goodbye to Goose and Carole with a promise to visit again soon before leaving.

Your flight home the next day is uneventful.

It's mid afternoon by the time you make it back. The two of you Uber back to your apartment before going to pick up Cerby and Hydra from Mav and Penny. You insist on driving to go get them. Bradley makes a fuss about it but ultimately gives in and hands you your keys.

"Angel, this isn't the way to Mav and Penny's." Bradley remarks as you make a turn. "I know." You hum back. You drive for a few more minutes before you pull into your final destination.

"Honey, who's house is this?" Bradley asks you as you pull in the driveway. "It's for sale. Let's go take a look." You say before hoping out of the car and bounding up the steps to the front door.

"Angel—baby—Hades, wait! We can't just go in a house that's for sale. We don't know if someone might be here!" Bradley scolds you as he follows you up the steps.

"No one is home, and we can go in if we have the key." You reply as you hold up the shiny piece of metal before unlocking the door. "How did you get that?" Bradley interrogates you as you step inside. "I have my ways." You laugh. "C'mon, Bradley, look around with me. Don't be such a kill joy." You tease him as you begin to flit throughout the space.

The bay windows along the back wall let in tons of natural like, and the floor plan is open concept with the kitchen, living room, and dining room flowing into one another. Gorgeous amber colored hardwoods run throughout the house and there is a fireplace along one wall.

The kitchen has beautiful light grey cabinets with white counter tops, and all the appliances are stainless steel. Bradley follows you up the stairs as he takes in all of the bedrooms before you lead him downstairs to the back patio and outdoor kitchen and the pool.

"Isn't this place amazing, Love?" You say to him with starry eyes.

"It's great, but—"He says hesitantly. "But what?" You ask him as you wrap your arms around his middle. "This is an expensive neighborhood and I know that you have money—"

"We have money." You correct him.

"We have money." He sighs. "But I don't want to spend so much of it. You earned that, and it's not fair."

You chuckle. "Bradley, I can't take it with me. And I've never had a reason to have a house until now. I mean, think about it. The yard would be perfect for Cerby and later on some kids. I mean, this would be the perfect home to raise our family in. You could teach them to swim in that pool while I make snacks in the outdoor kitchen. We could have our friends over. Heck, your aunt and uncle and cousins could come visit us. This place would be the perfect home for us!" You try to reason with him.

"I guess you're right. A place like this would be perfect for us to have a family. I guess we could talk to a realtor." Bradley laughs as the thought of you standing in the kitchen round and pregnant with his child while a toddler is running around the back yard with him creeps into his mind.

"We don't have to talk to a realtor, Bradley." You tell him. "I'm pretty sure we do, honey." Bradley chuckles.

"I'm pretty sure we don't. When we pulled up, you asked me whose house this was. Well, it's our house, Bradley. Welcome home." You say as you take a step back and dangle a key in front of him.

"You—you bought us a house? When? How?" He stammers, taking in your words. "The morning we left for Virginia. You'd be amazed what you can get done for the right amount of money.

"So you, you own this?" Bradley sweeps his hand around.

"We own this." You smile.

Bradley is silent for a moment before he picks you up and spins you around and carries you out the front door and onto the porch.

"Bradley? What are you doing?" You laugh. "I'm supposed to carry you across the threshold. It's tradition." He says with a matter of fact tone before doing just that. You break out into a fit of giggles as he sets you down and starts going through your home in earnest.

.................

Two weeks later, the two of you are all moved in. Your furniture fills the room, your photos and decor fill the walls and shelves. Your dishes sit in the cabinets, and Hydra and Cerberus have settled in nicely.

You've just come out of your huge new shower and are doing your nighttime routine when you notice a bruise from when you hit the corner of the kitchen island when making dinner, but you shake it off. As you apply some lotion, you notice the small scar on your hand from the mug you broke in Virginia.

When you go to inspect it further, you suddenly realize just how tired you are as you let out a yawn. You don't dwell on it because Bradley is calling you to come to bed, and the idea of being wrapped up in his big strong arms is the only thing you can be bothered to think of right now.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @sunlightmurdock @princess76179 @supernaturalvikingwhore @schoollover @cheyrenee @briseisgone @angelbabyange @marvelouslyme96

#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun rooster #rooster smut

[asshlyyyy]

Christmas

Fic Warnings: Mentions of possible miscarriage. Pregnancy, swearing I'm pretty sure...? If not, disregard this warning. Mentions of being sick, being sick, vomiting. There may be spelling and grammatical errors. Author's note at the end. Please let me know if I missed any warnings! Thank you!

Note: This could be read as a stand alone or as a part two to Thanksgiving!

Masterlist | Previous Part

You walked up to the front door and turned the handle opening up the door. You two never really bothered to lock the door since you were behind the gates. You only really locked it at night. You placed your car keys off to the side, away from Elvis’ cause lord knows he doesn’t know which key belongs to which car. You closed the door behind you and started to take off your coat. 

“Mama!” Your son’s voice filled your ears.

“Hi my sweet son,” You smiled and hung the coat up. You walked over to him and picked him up from the floor, Elvis was just sitting a few feet away from you. 

You had just come back from your doctor’s appointment to check on the baby. Elvis wanted to come with, but someone had to watch Theodore. You also couldn’t bring him because he doesn’t do the best in new places.

“How’d it go?” Elvis asked as he got up and made his way over to you. 

“It went well, he just told me to be careful.” You responded with a smile as you looked up at him. 

“So nothing bad?” He questioned as he placed his arm around you. You let out a hum and shook your head. 

“No, he just thinks it might be stress because of the holidays.” You responded as you kissed your son's head, holding him close to your chest. 

“Okay,” Elvis nodded and kissed the side of your head, offering to take your purse. Which you happily gave him. You sat down on the couch and just held your son close. You looked down at your belly and frowned lightly. 

For how far along you were, you were growing big. With Theo, you carried him small, but it looks like this baby wants more room. You knew that with each pregnancy you were bound to grow weight, it’s natural. Not only because of the baby but also because of how our body works. You were good at keeping control of it. 

“What are we doing for Christmas?” You asked as you looked over towards Elvis who was picking up the toys off the ground. 

“I think we were going to host again?” Elvis looked at you with a questioning expression. 

“We can, we would just have to go to the store. We just don't have ham or anything.” You explained to him as you rubbed Theo’s back gently.

“I can send someone out. The stores are probably crazy right now.” You nodded lightly at his response. Your heart felt… sad. It felt empty almost.

“Can you put him down for his nap?” You asked as you looked at the sleepy boy on your chest. 

“Yeah of course,” Elvis said as he took Theodore out of your arms. You mumbled a thank you and watched as he walked away. Elvis knew something was wrong the moment you walked inside. He just didn’t know how much truth you told him. 

You lay down on the couch and pulled the blanket down onto your body. You cuddled into the blanket and reached for the book that was on the coffee table. It was one of your sons, but it was a story either way. It was the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Did it give your son a light scare at first? Yes, but once he learned that the Grinch doesn’t come unless you are extra bad, he was okay. 

You actually had a lot of Dr. Suess books. In fact, you got Theodore the two that came out this year for his present. How you opted to do Christmas was that Santa gave the essentials, the ‘boring’ stuff some may call. He may give a toy here and there, but the fun stuff comes from the parents. You didn’t want him to see you guys as boring. To some kids, books may be a boring gift, but he loves to look at the pictures. He was still too young to read, but he liked to point at everything and ask, wha?

You heard Elvis as he began to walk down the stairs. His shoes hit rough against the carpeted stairs. Which bothered you to no extent. You wanted to keep a clean house. He would then argue that it was the maid’s job to vacuum and clean the floors. Some nonsense really.

“He’s all put down and- you’re reading one of his books?” Elvis questioned as he placed the white baby monitor down on the coffee table.

“It was the only thing nearby,” you replied simply. However, just on the opposite end near the lamp sat a copy of the holy bible. Maybe you were just in your feels and didn’t want a hard book to read. Nonetheless, something was wrong.

“All right, tell me what happened,” Elvis spoke as he appeared back into the living room. You tore your eyes away from the book and looked over at him. 

“I told you what happened.” You said, returning your gaze back to the book. Not really wanting to have this conversation. 

“And I know that there is more than what you told me.” Elvis came to the couch. He moved your legs out of the way and quickly sat down, resting your legs on his lap. You let out a sigh and looked over at him. You closed the book and laid it down in your lap.

“He said if I’m not careful I can lose the baby,” you spoke softly. You didn’t even wanna say those words out loud. It would just make it feel more real, and you felt your eyes start to water up. 

“Hey hey,” Elvis’ tone softened. “What? Why would he say that?”

“You know how I went because of a pain? That I felt… really sick.” You brought up as you wiped away your slight tears before things got too crazy.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“He says it isn’t normal to be really sick during pregnancy. Sure morning sickness is normal but… with the sickness and overworking myself. He basically bedridden me.” You explained to him, humming to the feeling of Elvis rubbing his hand up and down your leg. 

“We’ll get through this together okay?” He tried to reassure you, but you both knew deep down the Colonel would pull him away to film some random movie. The two of you repositioned yourselves and your back laid against his chest. His hand rested on your small bump and rubbed slight circles against it.

You played the rest of the day safe. Once your son woke up from his nap you played some games with him before one of the maids started dinner. You felt bad keeping them from their family, but you sent most of them home already. Only two decided to stay and you were thankful. 

Everyone was tucked away in bed before you knew it. Of course not until after you left out milk and cookies for Santa, which Elvis was gonna have to eat and drink later. Along with putting the carrots back in the fridge. He also had you write Santa a little note. Asking for some last-minute items, even though you told him it was too late. Theo argued his case and won.

Christmas Day came sooner than you expected. Well, three in the morning kind of soon. You sat on the floor near the toilet. Everything you had eaten at dinner down the drain of the toilet. It wasn’t just morning sickness anymore. This baby was just… taking everything out of you. So, you sat there until you were able to push yourself up.

Elvis was still sound asleep. He had these moments where he would be either a heavy sleeper or a really light sleeper. Today was one of those heavy nights. You rinsed your mouth out with some water and popped a mint before heading back to bed. You didn’t expect him to wake up every single time. Someone needed rest to watch after Theodore, and Elvis was just more capable of that.

Despite not being able to do much, you knew damn well that you were going to dress up for the holidays. So, as you walked down the grand white staircase, you heard laughter and voices coming from the living room. You steadied yourself on the railing and put on your bravest smile. 

Truth be told, you woke up and just didn’t want to move. And this is after the hour you had awake between three and four. Maybe you shouldn’t have ever moved since your doctor bedridden you. To say the least, you were grateful for your maids was an understatement. They would be the ones cooking and cleaning until this baby comes. Without them, you didn’t know how your baby would survive, not off of Elvis’ cooking that’s for damn sure.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and heard your baby boy’s voice announcing your arrival. “Mama!” He squealed in happiness. He got up on his feet and made his way over to you.

“Hi my sweet boy,” you said and reached down picking him up. You pressed multiple kisses on his cheek and made your way into the living room. “Look how beautiful you look, Y/n,” your mother complimented you.

“Thank you, mama,” you said with a smile. Though, you doubted you even looked that beautiful. No amount of makeup or pretty dresses will hide the fact that you weren’t feeling well.

Elvis got up from his place on the couch and offered you his seat, which you gladly accepted. “So honey, is there a reason you’re not cooking today?” Your mother questioned.

“Oh, I’m just not feeling that well today, so Janice is holding down the kitchen,” you said with a small smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that dear,” your mother responded. You replied with a smile node and reached over for Elvis’s hand. 

“I believe we were gonna open up presents before dinner, right darlin’?” Elvis looked over at you, seeing if that was still the schedule.

“Yes,” you nodded. “With everything planned out after dinner, Theo should fall asleep at his normal time.” You further explained looking over at your family. 

“What about your father, Elvis? Isn’t he joining us?” Your mother asked with her sweet-toned southern accent. 

“Unfortunately not, that b-“ Elvis quickly coughed to cover up what he almost accidentally said. “That wife of his has him over at their place celebrating. I think she’s still mad about Thanksgiving.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that son,” your father said. Elvis smiled softly at him as a way to express gratitude. 

“Shall we exchange gifts then? I know Theo must be dying to rip them open,” she let out a chuckle. Everyone joined in with her. You tickled Theo’s stomach and watched as he erupted in a fit of giggles. 

“Let’s have him pick?” Elvis suggested, though it sounded like he was asking for permission. He wanted to be careful with what he said, he didn’t want to cause you any stress. 

“Of course,” you responded and placed Theo down on the floor. At first, Theo just sat down, but with some encouragement from his family. He made his way over to the tree. 

You had to arrange some things around, but you placed the tree where the grand white piano is. You, more like you had Elvis, move the piano back so that you could fit the tree. You always thought it looked nicest there. 

Theo looked around trying to figure out what to grab first. Should he go for something big or something small? You just thought he was lost and confused about what to do. He was only two after all. Elvis kneeled down and placed his hand on your son’s back.

“How about we check the stockings? See if Santa filled them with some candy and toys,” your fiancé encouraged the young boy. Theo nodded excitedly at the sound of Santa, toys, and candy. 

You watched your boys make their way over to the fireplace and Elvis pulled down the stocking. He wanted it to Theo and you watched as he started to pull things out one by one. You hummed softly and leaned back, and nuzzled into the blanket that was thrown around you. 

Gifts took… an awfully long time. It was just, that every time Theo opened something he had to play with it right away. It would take anywhere from a minute, to five to get him to open up another present. Not to mention the tears he would shed because he couldn’t play with his toy. It was… a very emotional roller coaster.  

“I actually have one more gift to give,” your father spoke up as he stood up. “I think you’ll be very happy with it.” He looked at you as he said it. You looked at him confused and pulled yourself away from Elvis’ shoulder. 

“I found it the other day when I was cleaning out the attic,” your father explained as he pulled up a box that was hidden from your eyesight. 

“What is it?” You questioned as he placed the box in your hands. 

“Open it and you’ll see.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him and opened the box. You froze when you saw the old ragged, yet somehow in perfect condition, stuffed bunny staring up at you.

You lifted the bunny carefully and continued to stare at it. “Is this Miffy?” You asked as you looked over at your father. 

“It is, I thought… maybe you could pass her down to your baby once they are born.” You smiled softly at his answer and nodded. 

You got Miffy when you were a young girl. You would wear your pretty dresses and run around the yard. She slept by your side every night. Then she became a decoration on your dresser, and then soon she was placed in the attic. You never thought you would see her again, let alone in such great condition.

“I cleaned and fixed her up,” your mother spoke to you. 

“Thank you, this… this means a lot to me.” You started to tear up. You and your goddamn pregnancy emotions. You were quick to wipe your eyes and soon picked up your boy from the ground. 

The fear of losing your baby just kept coming back to you. You didn’t mean to think about it, but… seeing Miffy, and your dad suggesting giving her to your baby once they’re born. It brought that fear that if you are not careful enough, they’ll die. 

You held Theodore close and excused yourself from your family. You pulled on your coat and boots and walked outside. “Mama, oday?” Theodore looked at you worried as he snuggled closer under your coat. 

“Yes, mama is okay.” You replied softly and kissed the top of his head. 

Don’t stress over this.

The more stress, the more likely you’ll have a miscarriage.

Happy thoughts, Y/n, happy thoughts.

“Hey baby, everything okay?” You heard your mother’s voice. You turned your head and spotted her behind her fluffy coat. 

“Yeah, just got a bit emotional, is all,” you gave her a sad smile.

“May I offer some advice?” She asked gently. You nodded slowly and looked at her, your hand rubbing your son’s back. 

“You’re gonna face rough pregnancies every so often. At the end of the day, when you are holding your baby close to your chest… that is when it all matters. It may seem rough, and like your life is over, but at the end of the tunnel is God’s greatest gift. A newborn baby.” She spoke as she looked at you, never for a second leaving your eyes. 

“Do you think he sees us as sinners?” You asked with a sad expression. You may have not been heavily influenced by God, but he played a role in your life. Just as he did with your fiancé. 

“Just because you two aren’t married? Perhaps, but he knows that you two are down that road of getting married. He knows Elvis has a crazy schedule. I believe he made an exception just for you two.”

“How do you always know what to say?” You questioned. 

“I’m your mother, I’m supposed to.” She smiled and pulled you into a hug, being careful of the toddler against your chest. You leaned into her hug, not being able to properly hug back.

“Thank you.”

The three of you went back inside and waited for dinner to happen. The maids made a beautiful and tasteful dinner. The main course being the Ham. You didn’t understand the reasoning behind holiday meats. Thanksgiving was always served with Turkey, maybe a ham, but Christmas was served with ham. 

Your plate was full to the brim, hopefully, you’ll be able to keep it all down. You hardly had much to eat during the day. A bowl of oatmeal and fresh-cut fruit in the morning, and then dinner now. After everyone finished up their plate, everyone slowly but surely left. Your parents, your brother… Vernon made sure to stop by to drop off presents and say hi. 

Other than that, the maids cleaned up, you got Theo in the bath. Then you got him all ready to go to bed, with the help of Elvis. You then got in the bath yourself, figuring that would be the best way to destress. Before you knew it, you were in your pajamas and getting in bed.

You hummed softly as you pulled back the bed covers. You weren’t one to lie and say that the silk covers kept you warm during these cold months. Nonetheless, it made Elvis happy, and if Elvis was happy; you were happy. But- there was no way in hell you were gonna suffer while pregnant during the winter.

“Elvis,” you called out to him as you got into bed, slipping your legs under the covers.

“Yeah, darlin’?~~” You hum at his voice. You don’t know how, but he just sounded more southern at night. Maybe it was because he was getting sleepy. His voice was getting more raspy, the whole nine yards.

“We’re switching covers tomorrow.” You stated, not bothering to ask. You wanted your fleece sheets, not freezing silk.

“Hold on now-“ he came in from the bathroom, a toothbrush loosely hanging from his mouth. “What’s wrong with these?”

“Cold,” you answered simply, “and the baby doesn’t want to be cold. Mama doesn’t want to be cold.” You gave him that look. It was that very same look that said a million unspoken words. 

Elvis had a lot of say what got done in his house. Despite it being considered as both of yours. At the end of the day, it was Elvis’ name on the deed. He was the one to purchase it. He was the one who got to design and plan out the rooms. Then of course your son got a say in what went on in his bedroom. Despite the mess, he would make every single day. All you were asking was for a simple change of the sheets. 

“Fine fine,” he muttered under his breath as he returned to the bathroom. You choose to ignore it just this once. 

Does the bedroom bother you? Yes, it absolutely does. Compared to the rest of the house, it was dark and moody. It almost screamed vampire. You were more than happy with the blackout curtains, but you wanted it to look more lively. To match the rest of the house. Then again, you think it would kill Elvis if you put any sense of color in his bedroom. 

You reached over to your side table and picked up the book you were reading earlier. Joy in the Morning by Betty Smith. While Elvis was more into books that related closely to the lord, you were more of a romance fan. You liked your little romance novels because deep down you wanted your romance to be like them. 

That isn’t to say that the relationship you have sucks. You have your rough moments just like every other couple. In these stories though… it feels as if nothing ever goes wrong for them. That is what you wanted. A perfect life, a perfect relationship, a perfect… everything. Yet every night before you two signed off, you would read together a verse in the bible. One chosen at random. 

You would open the book, and go through the pages, stop at one random, run your finger along the page, and stop it at random. You two liked to take it as… a reading. Thought most of the time the verses don’t lead you on a path of anything. They are more or less… well, they are verses. Not fortune tellings, but you two still liked to take them as such.

The bathroom soon became dark and Elvis emerged from the doorframe. He made his way over to the bed and slid in next to you. Well, more like got in… then scooted over to you. He pressed a kiss to your head and pulled you into his warm embrace. You let out a light giggle and made sure to quickly save your space in the book. 

“You know, I haven’t given you your gift yet.” He spoke softly. You hummed softly and turned your head upwards to look at him.

“You’re giving me a baby, Elvis.” You spoke gently as you brought your hand up to his jaw. 

“I can give you one of those any time. This is a special gift.”

“And what does it have that the other special gifts don’t?” You raised your eyebrow. 

“I-,” Elvis didn’t know how to respond. He generally just needed the excuse of Christmas to give you more gifts. “God told me to.”

“Did he now? And what did he tell you to get me?” You played along with his statement.

“Well, that’s for you to find out,” he pulled out a neatly wrapped long box. You could already guess that it was some type of jewelry because of the box. Not a ring or earrings, could be a bracelet, necklace, or even a watch. The possibilities were endless. 

You took it out of his hands and ran your palm against it. “Let’s see if God chose correctly then.” You pulled the wrapped paper off and revealed a black velvet box. The words of a jewelry company posted on top. You opened it and saw a beautiful gold necklace with an oval, and an E engraved on it. 

You opened the necklace and smiled at the pictures already in them. A picture of you and Elvis, a picture of Theodore, and two more spaces to be filled. You looked over at Elvis and started to tear up. “Elvis,” you whispered. 

“Once our baby gets born we can add their picture… then we can do a family picture as well.”

“It’s perfect, I love it.” You threw your arms around him and pressed multiple kisses on his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he rubbed your back gently. “Merry Christmas, my darlin’,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and held his hand on your bump.

It may have started off as a rough day, but the ending was most worth it. Much like other things. The beginning may suck, but if you truck through to the end you will be rewarded. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips as you kissed him.

“I love you, and I love our baby.”

“I love them too,” you smiled alongside with him. Just think, next year you’ll have two kids for Christmas. It may be chaotic, but you were ready for this chapter. 

Special Taglist: @darlinboypresley @austinstyles

Author's note: I started writing this after the first part went up. But it took me all the day till the 19th to finish. I am not completely a hundred percent happy with this, but I think I want to turn this into a holiday fic. I don't think there will be one for New Years. I can see an Easter one happening, a 4th of July one, Halloween, loop back around I might do Veteran's day instead of Thanksgiving for next year. Then ending it again with Christmas. Of course the newborn being there.

In the original fic, the reader actually suffered a miscarriage, and I wasn't completely sure if I wanted to copy that over. So, I placed the idea in this fic, it does not mean it will happen, but it leaves the doors open for that possibility, though I kind of just said what would happen.

Next fic will be posted on Christmas Day. I hope to have it done much quicker then I did this fic. I hope everyone is having a wonderful holidays!

#asshlyyyy writes #elvis presley #elvis fandom #elvis fanfic #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #elvis imagine #elvis one shot

[asshlyyyy]

Authors note: Yay! I managed to finish the second part 🤩 I made it a bit longer because I didn’t want to miss any details. I thought it would be fun to introduce some characters a bit more and make a funny chapter. I might rest a bit and bring the next part after Christmas. I hope you like! 🥰

Word count: 4,2K

Warnings: sexist comments of the decade,teasing, cussing.

All shook up

(part 2)

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!" Mark, my boss, shouted with a very angry tone, banging his office desk.

My eyes started blinking rapidly, while my unfocused gaze became sharp. I was still daydreaming and remembering what happened last night.

"Yes, Sir… I'm very sorry. I was trying to protect Elvis" I answered, even without knowing what he had said previously, I perfectly knew what he was talking about.

"Trying? Elvis is like the fucking crown jewel of this hotel. He has to be protected at all costs while he is under our care" he said, his tone was becoming more and more annoying.

"I understand, Sir. It was a mistake, my fault for not taking the walkie-talkie. But he was alone at the backstage; something worse could have happened" I said, making him think it would have had worse consequences.

"I don't care what he does, he can even have an orgy on the terrace if he wants to. Your actions have caused damages to our client and our property. It took me three hours to negotiate with The Colonel about this, three! You are reckless and negligent. I knew I shouldn't have let a woman be in charge here," the boss exclaimed, outraging me.

"Sir, with all due respect, I am new to this hotel and I have tried to adapt as quickly as I could. I have never received any complain about my job, and I have never dealt with an earthquake before. Yes, I made a mistake, but even so, I did everything I could to keep Elvis and the other customers safe" I answered with confidence. I wasn't going to let him underestimate me.

The boss looked at me thoughtfully, taking a few seconds to respond. "Yeah, whatever. Now do us all a favor and go take care of those damn reporters outside. You're about the only person on this planet who can tame the hellhounds that are waiting out in the cold" my boss responded in a stern tone, tapping on the desk and slowly shaking his head.

"Alright, sir. I'm on my way"I replied obediently, not wanting to give a bad impression.

I got up from the chair and headed towards the door. When I came out, I felt that even the boss's hurtful words scolding me had not affected me. I was still in a cloud remembering what happened last night. Today was a great day, and I was happy after meeting Elvis, even if it wasn't the best moment.

On one of the floors of the building, I found Alex. He noticed something different about me, but he still didn't know anything about what had happened.

Alex approached me.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked him, greeting him in a friendly manner, trying to act normal.

Alex looked at me and greeted me with a genuine smile. "Y/n! Everything is fine. How about you?" He asked, raising his eyebrow in a curious way.

I began to laugh nervously and answered as best as I could. "All good, I guess. I'm alive and kicking! Well, what's today's plan? We have to go and calm down the press, right?" I answered, trying to change the topic.

As I was talking, Alex’s expression changed from a wide smile to a concerned look, as he slowly tilted his head. "Everything is alright? Something seems off with you" he asked in a curious tone.

"Yeah, you know, we gotta keep this place safe from reporters. They're all still after Elvis, but it's gotten a bit chaotic after the earthquake” Alex continued, in order not to seem like he was putting pressure on me.

Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the hallway. I was afraid to tell it, but I needed to tell someone. I needed a friend's opinion.

"Alex…" I said with an intriguing tone, while I grabbed his arm as if we were two old ladies, -a clear sign that gossip was coming- "Can I tell you something?"

As I grabbed Alex's arm, he was surprised but didn't pull away, allowing me to do so. He looked down with a look of curiosity, then back up at me with a warm smile. "Of course, sweetie. What is it that you want to tell me?" He asked, his voice full of understanding and support, wanting to hear me out and do whatever he could to help.

"Promise me you won't say a word about what I'm about to tell you."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything" Alex said impatiently.

"Yesterday… oh… I ruined everything, Alex. I got lost because of the earthquake and ended up at the backstage. I didn't even grab the walkie-talkie, and I got locked in. But guess who…" I said in a mysterious tone.

Alex's expression was sympathetic with my situation until he was caught by surprise that I had been locked up with someone. "Oh no, please don't tell me you were locked in with that security bouncer. That guy is obsessed with you. What a nightmare!" Alex responded in that characteristic tone of his that made us start laughing. It slowly became more serious as I looked in each other's eyes.

"No Alex, I got stuck with… Santa Claus," I replied, using one of the old-school tricks, mentioning ficticious names so that people wouldn't know who we were talking about.

"Who is Santa Claus, baby?" Alex answered confused. He knew it was a fictitious name, but he didn't know who I was referring to.

"You know, when Santa Claus comes to “International” town. Everyone is happy; he also brings his “Snowman”, Santa Claus's little elfs helpers…" I couldn't make it clearer.

Suddenly, Alex remembered that Elvis's manager, the Colonel, was called "Snowman," so he made the connection, turning himselft pale as if he had seen a ghost.

"Wait… The SANTA FUCKING CLAUS?" He answered by raising his voice loudly, as if we were alone. At that moment, all the staff who were working in the floor with us turned around abruptly to look at us. Some looked at us with dislike, others were surprised and curious, and others began to laugh since they knew that Alex had always been a bit kook.

His shout made me blush with embarrassment, and I had to shush him without stopping laughing. "For God's sake, Alex! It’s a secret, remember?" I whispered to him while laughing.

"Well, the thing is, I didn't take the walkie-talkie with me, and I put Santa in danger during the earthquake. But I must say…" I paused, unconsciously biting my lip” he flirted with me. But then Joe came, and they left." I added with a mischievous smile changing to one of sadness.

"HE WHAT?" He exclaimed, opening his eyes and mouth, surprised by the news. Are you serious right now? Elvis flirted with you? And who is Joe, Rudolf?” Alex said between laughs with a sparkle in his eyes, trying not to show his desire to know more about this unexpected secret.

Alex spoke so loudly that for the second time, the employees turned to look at us. “Alex, SANTA, call him Santa. Yes, Santa flirted with me,” I answered a little upset as I feared that someone would find out.

At that moment, Doris, the cleaning lady, was passing by us. She couldn't help but listen to our conversation, and she said: “Santa what? Oh young lady, I think you need a break from this job. Or stop taking those magic pills.” She addressed us like a mother, scolding us in a slightly unpleasant tone.

Alex and I stood there, stunned, exchanging glances. Doris was certainly a box of surprises—an endearing old lady, but at the same time, bombs could come out of her mouth.

Quick to act, Alex reassured Doris “No need for tablets, Dori. It’s just the North Pole drama happening right here.” He subtly said while grabbing gently her shoulders guiding her back to her cleaning cart. "Come on, none of your business" he added.

"Well, so that happened." I chuckled as Alex returned to my side, still amused by his unexpected comment to Doris.

With a smile, Alex met my gaze and said, "I'm so happy about this. But you have to be very careful, y/n." His warm tone shifted to one of concern. "You know it's forbidden to have anything personal with a client. If the boss finds out, you could be fired. You can ruin your reputation."

"I know," I sighed. "I remained professional, but my god... this man has a natural gift for seduction. It was so hard to keep my composure."

After the warning, Alex lightened the mood, asking playfully, "So… tell me! Have you been able to feel Santa Claus's candy cane yet? I NEED TO KNOW!"

"Alex, shut up!" I whispered as we headed towards the entrance, ready to handle the press outside.

Meanwhile, Elvis was in his room, deep in his thoughts, sitting in a couch, looking out at the city of Las Vegas from the window. Still processing the events that happened last night, he couldn't help but smile.

"Worried about the press?" Joe interrupted Elvis's peace, remarking, "Those bastards are going to hang around here all day."

"Yeah, those damn reporters still haven’t gotten the message, I guess. I just hope they don't make life here a whole lot more complicated" Elvis said with a slightly exasperated expression on his face, whishing they’d go away as soon as possible.

"Well, you gave them something to talk about last night," Joe added with a laugh.

Elvis was taken by surprise, "Please keep her out of this damn circus, Joe. Don't even think about that. Oh, and speaking of last night, she's not a tip-worthy pretty face. She's somethin’ else."

"Man, I was just talking about the earthquake." Joe, sensing Elvis's tension, wisely avoided delving into the topic but knew something significant had occurred the night before.

Elvis remained silent, deep in thought. Suddenly, the Colonel entered the room, exclaiming "My boy! My boy!" with a display of effusiveness. Elvis turned around quickly to see who had just entered the room.

"Hello, sir. What brings ya to the penthouse?" he asked calmly.

"Good news! I spoke to Mark, the International director, about the incident last night. He'll pay us 40 percent more in the next five performances. Elvis Presley, after this earthquake accident, is making a great effort, as neither the hotel nor its employees are safe anymore"

Elvis looked directly at him when he mentioned "employees," realizing he meant y/n.

Elvis's eyes widened as the Colonel proceeded to speak. After what had happened last night, it didn't surprise him that the Colonel was trying to get more money out of the situation. Observing the Colonel’s deamatic flair, Elvis remained visibly upset.

"Alright, so... 40 percent more for the next five shows, got it. Anything else, sir?" Elvis said, acting cold towards the Colonel and not giving him the sympathy he was hoping to get.

"Yeah, and don't worry, kid. The employees won't bother you or put you at risk again. Especially that damn woman," the Colonel asserted, pleased with the outcome of his discussion with the director.

"Is she fired?" Elvis asked in a darker tone, causing Joe to grow concerned about Elvis's reaction.

"No, son. But she's where she's most useful—dealing with the press out there. The less time she spends inside the building, the better," the Colonel said, adopting a tone that left unclear whether he was aware of Elvis's mood.

Relieved that y/n wasn't fired but annoyed with each response from the Colonel, Elvis asked "Where is she?" Darkness etched his face.

"Who?" the Colonel asked, confused.

"The director. I need to talk to him," Elvis said, attempting to be polite.

"Look, boy, if anyone has to talk to him, it's me. Don't worry and focus on your performance, okay?" The Colonel replied with authority.

Feeling helpless, Elvis didn't appreciate the Colonel's tone. He wanted to do something, and everything felt unfairly constrained. Moreover, he wanted to ensure y/n's safety.

Elvis stood up confidently, and headed to the door, prompting Joe to intervene, concerned about potential mistakes.

"Elvis, think carefully about what you're going to do. Please don't mess things up. Today is your show," Joe implored, meeting Elvis's eyes. He knew that the director was a powerful person in business.

Elvis, exchanging a knowing look with Joe, left his room.

"Boy! Don't you dare go alone!" the Colonel exclaimed as Elvis walked away.

Joe, realizing the importance of Elvis's intentions, stood between the Colonel and Elvis, who was moving further away.

“For God's sake, he's not going to war or something. He just goes to the office. We have a lot of men around and security” Joe said, placing a hand on the Colonel's chest to stop him.

Elvis, witnessing this from down the hall, he gave him a quick nod and a warm smile of gratitude and appreciation. Joe's support and understanding of Elvis's intentions didn't go unnoticed and Elvis felt grateful towards him.

En route to the office, Elvis, used to signing documents in his room, felt disoriented. Yet, he walked with confidence. Upon reaching the elevator, he found Doris.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed on the verge of a heart attack. “Good afternoon, Mr. Presley!”

Elvis's expression changed from a slightly frustrated tone to a more relaxed and calm one when he saw Doris, the cleaning lady. Her reaction caught him off guard, but he couldn't help but be amused by how spooked and surprised she was to see him at the elevator.

In his signature warm manner, he greeted her and said, "Oh, dear... Don't be scared, it's just me” he said, still laughing “How are you, darlin’?” Elvis asked in a friendly and endearing tone to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

“I… I'm fine. Everything… i-is… fine. Wonderful, I would say!” Doris said, trying to calm down, smiling at Elvis as if she were a teenager in love again.

Elvis, known for his warmth, turned to Dori, placing a hand on her back, and asked, “Just one question, darlin’. Would ya know where I can find the executive office?”

“Oh sure! He is downstairs, second floor. Turn right into the second hallway.” Doris answered with a wide smile.

"Thank you, honey,” Elvis expressed his gratitude, and they fell into silence. Doris looked at Elvis, and she eyed the elevator door, restraining herself as if she were about to explode. Together, they headed towards the second floor.

Exiting the elevator, Elvis bid farewell to Doris. As the doors closed, he heard Doris giggling and screaming inside the elevator. Unable to contain himself, Elvis burst into laughter.

Upon finding the office, Elvis entered Mark's office without knocking first, showing that he didn't really care to follow protocols or formalities in those kinds of situations. He was straight to the point and didn't want to beat around the bush.

Mark, the director of the International, was taken aback by Elvis's unannounced presence. “Um…uh…good afternoon, Mr. Presley, what a pleasant surpris-”

“Why did ya move the girl outside, Mark?” Elvis interrupted with a serious and concise question, making it clear he was there to address the issue.

Mark was surprised by the way Elvis entered his office and asked him that question. He wasn't expecting Elvis to be so straightforward and direct with his question. Mark was trying to come up with an explanation right away, thinking of ways to justify his actions and explain what he did. "Well... Uh... You see, Mr. Presley, the hotel has been receiving a lot of negative attention lately because of the earthquake, and we don't want staff members to interfere with our image and reputation. We thought we would be doing you a favour by moving her outside", Mark replied.

Elvis approached Mark to emphasize his words. “She didn't put me in danger; I put her in danger. I'm the one who put her in danger. Yeah, I shot the door, but I'll get that damn door fixed by the end of the day. I ain't gonna let no buncha sons of bitches take advantage of her in this weather. Ya hear?.” Elvis's tone and demeanor shifted, asserting his authority and rejecting Mark's approach.

“I already talked to The Colonel about it, don't worry about the door,” Mark said casually, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"I tell ya what, that's fine, but now I'm worried about her. I have never seen such a dedicated working woman in all my days. She was real professional with me, and she kept me safe with the best of her abilities. As for my men, some of them couldn't give two shits about me, meanwhile she's done more in one night than they have all week.“ Elvis stated, facing the director, refusing to let Mark overlook the matter.

Taking a sip of whiskey, Mark contemplated how to resolve the situation without jeopardizing his relationship with Elvis or clashing with The Colonel.

“I want one of her duties to be working for me.” Elvis declared bluntly, preempting any suggestions from Mark. Elvis knew precisely what he wanted.

Mark nodded slowly, acknowledging his weak position. Denying a request from Elvis was not an option. “Okay, Mr. Presley. Miss y/n will join you starting tomorrow to provide you her services.”

Mark slowly nodded his head, realizing he was in a weak position. He knew that to deny Elvis's request was not an option, so he had to agree to it while he could. "Alright, Mr. Presley. Miss y/ln will join us tomorrow to provide you with her services " Mark said, knowing that this was better for him than to deny Elvis.

Satisfied with the outcome, Elvis thanked the director and left the office. He headed to the elevator with a sense of justice, knowing he would finally be able to see her again and value her work as she deserved.

————

After dealing with the press, I was mentally drained. The countless questions forced me to improvise in order to avoid any misunderstandings. It was exhausting, and I couldn't stop thinking about Elvis. His presence haunted me all day long, and I felt as if he was inside my mind.

As I headed to the elevator to return to my office, the doors opened, revealing Elvis. I froze and blushed, despite hiding his gaze under those glasses, I could only focus in his eyes.

Elvis's expression shifted to surprise when he saw me. We looked at each other, happy to meet again, even if only for a few seconds in the elevator.

As time passed, the doors started closing again, we kept looking at each other and we seemed to lose track of time, but Elvis swiftly stopped the doors from closing with his arm.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Elvis approached me. “Well, well, if it ain’t my earthquake buddy. Meeting like this, who would’ve thought?”

“Elvis! What a surprise to see you again in the middle of this chaos.” I answered while stepping inside the elevator.

Elvis fixed his eyes on me, purring in my ear playfully, "Looks like we got stuck somewhere else pretty soon, darlin’. The universe is tryin’ to tell us somethin’."

As his calming voice washed over me, I couldn't help but react instantly. A wave of chills ran down my spine, as I felt my face turn red with embarrassment.

Elvis continued being playful. “So, how was your day, darlin’?” he lightened the mood, trying to ease the tension in my body. He seemed to read my body language very easily.

“Oh… well, after dealing with a somewhat difficult boss, I had to handle some clients and the press since everyone is going crazy over a certain 'Elvis Presley.'” I said, in a playful tone.

Elvis laughed, nodding in agreement with my comments about everyone going crazy.

“Do you know him by any chance?” I continued, jokingly.

“Mmm… I know somethin’ ‘bout him, yes, but I promise ya he's a good fella,” he said with a smile.

Elvis shifted into a charming mode. “M’sorry for any trouble I might've caused ya last night, sweetheart. But I'll make it up to ya”

“Don't worry, it's just that the guy from above is a little crazy, that's all,” I answered, referring to my boss.

Elvis fixed his eyes on my face and touched my cheek. “Oh, darlin', you near 'bout froze to death out there” he said in a worried tone, noting my red nose and purple lips.

I had never had Elvis so close; I could feel the warmth of his hand soothing my cheeks. I couldn't help but let out a whimper. As his warm breath approached, it seemed like he was about to kiss my lips.

He transported me to a kind of paradise without realizing the reality. Immediately afterward, the elevator door began to open. Swiftly, I returned to my position, with my arms crossed. Elvis kept looking at me few more seconds after he directed his gaze towards the elevator doors.

I was surprised to see that it was Doris who entered. She stared confused at me and Elvis, and vice versa, repeating the process several times.

Elvis, with a playful expression, turned to Doris, making an exaggerated bow. “Doris, darlin', your entrance shines brighter than any ol' Vegas show!” he said while smirked, twitchting his lip.

Doris's expression changed dramatically, softening at Elvis' words. She began to blush, and a special gleam appeared in her eyes as she looked at him with awe.

Despite my attempts to maintain a neutral expression, I couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. When Doris noticed my smile and looked me up and down with a sense of superiority, I could almost hear her thinking that Elvis would never speak to me in such a way.

If Doris only knew...

Doris, baffled but delighted, blushed and stammered “Oh, thank you, Mr. Presley!y-you are such a gentleman.”

Elvis, maintaining eye contact with me, decided to take the charm up a notch, throwing a curveball into the mix.

With a faux-serious expression, leaned in conspiratorially. “Doris, darlin', your job goes beyond the usual. You're the unsung hero 'round here, no doubt”

I just wanted to get out of that elevator so I could laugh at ease. I didn't know the fun side of Elvis. I tried to hold in my laughter as best I could and remain silent.

"I always thought my scrubbing skills were my secret weapon!" Doris was visibly nervous, fixing her hair in a futile attempt to compose herself.

With a wink, Elvis said, “Well, Wonder Mop!, your secret is safe with me.” He looked at me, holding back the urge to laugh.

I looked down at the floor and shook my head while smiling. Elvis was so cheeky. How could he be so sensually shameless? He knew exactly how to deal with any woman.

Finally I arrived at my destination floor, my time in the elevator seemed very short. I got out of the elevator and turned to them. “Have a good day,” I said, smiling and looking at Elvis intently.

“Have a good day, darlin’” Elvis replied back.

As I turned to start the walk towards my office after the elevator had opened, I heard the voice coming from the elevator, "Finally alone, Mr. Presley" Doris' declaration of her intentions was clear, although the elevator doors had yet to shut.

While my back was to them, I couldn't help but laugh as I made my way to my office. Elvis' laughter rang out as he heard my reaction, and the sound carried across the entire floor, filling the space with his cheerful roar.

~ Few hours later…~

After our meeting in the elevator, I just had a goofy smile the entire shift. Even though the hotel was full because of his performance, I was still happy. He will make it up to me... what does that mean?

With no warning, Alex burst into the hallway, shouting in a sharp tone.

“Y/N! Come to your office RIGHT NOW”. I looked at him a little confused, and started to worry. Many things went through my head at that moment, expecting the worst.

Upon entering the office, breathless and prepared to confront whatever challenges may lay ahead, I was met with a sight that took me by surprise.

Large box, adorned with white bows, laid on the desk, as Alex grinned at my entrance with a gleam in his eye, his excitement palpable. "I think Santa left you a gift" he remarked with a playful tone, curious to see me open the box and reveal the contents within.

Taking Alex's remarks in good humor, I replied, "I don't think it's him... right?" As I moved towards the box.

Once I untied the ties and managed to lift open the box, my surprise was immediate as I looked inside to find a white fur coat within. There was also a letter on top of the coat. As I opened the envelope, I had an instant reaction of curiosity and excitement:

“Don’t freeze out there while I’m not with you, baby. Meet me at midnight, backstage. E.”

And then my heart skipped a beat.

Need to recap? Part 1 here

#asshlyyyy recommends #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #70s elvis #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis fanfic

[asshlyyyy]

Authors note: Here it is! My first fanfic! It took me a long time I know, I blocked myself a bit at the end 😅. But it’s done. enjoy cuties!❤️ (and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes)

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, teasing, cussing, smoking.

All shook up

As I walked through the lobby, the click-clack of my heeled shoes broke the silence, almost like a constant drumbeat. It was just another day, another challenge.

I was staring into a blank space as if I were out of myself. Since its opening two years ago, the International has become one of the busiest hotels in Las Vegas. The reason? Elvis Presley.

His name was on everyone's lips, from my boss to the guests trying to find out more about him, it's a shame that I haven’t met him yet. And now, there I was: A young lady Guest Relations Manager having recently transferred two months ago into this male-dominated company. I often feel that the staff looked down upon me, seeing me as the mere "young and cute bossy girl." I felt that they were not taking me seriously and disregarded my suggestions. That was why I had to hide who I really am and present myself as a serious and professional person, to be respected.

At the entrance to the casino, I spotted Alex, one of my few friends here. He's the typical guy saving money for university, not taking the job too seriously but very friendly with me. A charming guy, though, nonetheless. His hidden talent is his ability to perfectly imitate Elvis, which he loves to show off whenever he can. Alex walked over to me with a big smile on his face.

"Heyy there she is, ya heard the King's comin' tonight? He's bringin' his mafia along. Ya know, with all this media buzz around him and the big show tomorrow night, he's gonna need special attention. The boss wants us to hold off the media too, so let's make sure his stay at the hotel is smooth. Hope we can make 'em feel welcome and without any troubles, ya hear baby?" He said mimicking Elvis’s southern accent to make it more interesting.

Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat. Elvis is coming. My hands began shaking and my mind was suddenly filled with a flurry of thoughts and insecurities. I've been a huge fan of him for years and was excited to see him in person, but this was different. I was here for work and was supposed to treat him the same way I would any other guest. But that thought only made my heart race even faster. It was going to be a tough night indeed.

“Are you serious?? Alright, we better start organising everything!” I said, stepping away from Alex. It was time to get started with the preparations. I had to handle everything; managing the media, securing the privacy of the other guests in the hotel, and, of course, ensuring Elvis Presley received a warm welcome at the International.

After a few hours passed, everything was in order. I started putting on my best uniform with a black blazer and skirt. I spent extra time doing my makeup, redressing my lips several times as I was feeling shaky.

My office phone rang, shaking me out of my reverie: "International Hotel, y/n speaking, what can I help?" I answered gently.

My boss cut through the pleasantries and interrupted my peace with a breathless "Elvis is in the building." Taken aback, I paused momentarily, then jumped to my feet and rushed to catch the elevator.

I found myself on the 30th floor, and all the elevators were moving very slowly, making frequent stops on each floor. In an anxious hurry, I furiously pressed the button with the feeling that my life depended on it, hoping to rush down and introduce myself to Elvis Presley. My limbs trembled, my heart was about to break free of my chest, and my breathing was quick and shallow. It was a sea of scenarios going through my mind, and I was pondering the best way to address Elvis politely.

Alex met me on my way down the elevator. Before I could say any word he said: "Hey! Where have you been? You missed Elvis Presley; he's so kind! He was very tired so he went straight to the penthouse. The Colonel asked not to disturb him, though" as the elevator began to descend again.

A wave of emotions washed over me and my stomach dropped when I realized I had missed my opportunity to meet him. I took a deep breath and tried to remain professional as the elevator doors opened and I faced my next challenge: keeping my cool, doing my job and dealing with my angry boss whose wrath I was surely to face after arriving late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting in my office during the night shift was torture. Boredom plagued me and the regret of not having met Elvis was too much to bear. I swore under my breath, angry at myself. The hours of the night seemed unendurable. What if I go up to the penthouse? It will get things worse… I knew this was my role and I would have to suck it up by behaving myself.

My frustration with the situation was growing and I kicked a nearby table, the sound echoing through the office. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and called myself silly for missing out on such an opportunity. Abruptly, the floor began to shake violently. I waited for a second to see if I had caused it with my kick on the table, but no, it was an earthquake! As the shaking increased, I scrambled around the hotel, searching for a safe place to wait out the disaster.

In a rush to evacuate, I made my way down the emergency stairs. Since I was relatively new to the hotel, I quickly got lost, the immense size of the building was contributing to my feeling of disorientation.

After several minutes of wandering in the dark, I spotted a dim light coming from a nearby door, the glow invited me to investigate further. Filled with curiosity, and desperate to make sense of my surroundings, I opened the door to take a closer look.

I cautiously entered the room, relieved to find the earthquake had ended, but my sense of relief quickly faded when a deep and gruff voice spoke out from the darkness.

"Hey, darlin'" The voice caught me off-guard and sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

“My, my, you're a jumpy one, aren't ya?” the deep voice replied from the darkness.

I shot back, “Well, excuse me, I wasn't expecting some kind of mysterious man in the darkness.”

I thought it might be Alex attempting to pull a silly joke on me and I was starting to feel a little annoyed. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" I inquired in a slightly irritated tone, assuming it was just a prank, considering that it was a difficult area to reach. “Seriously, Alex? Let’s go back to work and make sure everyone is safe. I didn’t have a good day and this is the last thing I need”

The figure got closer to me, gently pushed away my hair and whispered into my ear: "Sure thing, boss". I could feel his warm breath in my neck and sense the amusement in his voice, as if it were a game.

After a moment, the figure took a step back and lit a cigar, held between two ringed fingers and turned over to switch on a little lamp. When the smoke cleared, I saw the face of Elvis, with his captivating blue eyes, dark hair, perfect nose and lips. I was mesmerized by his smile, his voice was still ringing in my ears and the smoke from his cigar filled the air.

To my surprise, I discovered Elvis dressed in a black and red robe, accompanied by golden slippers. I could perceive a white item beneath the robe, but it was difficult to make out any more due to its loose cut. Furthermore, his bare, hirsute chest was appealing, and it was all that I could focus on.

My body was flooded with adrenaline, as if about to burst. I felt intimidated by Elvis's physical presence but also filled with excitement and an intense attraction. I was frozen, unable to process what was happening, my blood boiling with a cocktail of emotions.

Elvis noticed my reaction.

"Ahh, so you do know who I am?" Elvis purred, the deep voice sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

With a sly grin, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Sweetheart, I have to admit, I'm really enjoying this game. You're making this really fun to play."

He took a step back and blew out a big puff of cigar smoke, smiling broadly, savouring the moment and taking enjoyment in my reaction.

Even if I wanted to scream and go to his arms, I had to remain calm and professional. Actually, not reacting would be a nice strategy as he will see that his play game is not working.

“Mr. Presley, nice to meet you… unfortunately under these circumstances. I am glad you are enjoying the premises of this hotel. I would never have guessed you were in... in… “- damn, I didn't even know where I was.

“In the backstage of the showroom?” He chuckled.

“Hell, I’m more than enjoying the hotel, sugar. I gotta say the International is quite lovely. The room is very good and inviting. The bed is…” He changed his facial expression as if he was aware of something and started staring at my body while walking around me. “Oh boy, so comfortable and tender. I would sleep in there all night”

Is he talking about the hotel? I was getting confused by his words.

“Okay, the lobby was nice, but now, ya'll have to excuse my language, darlin', but the hallways in this hotel” Elvis pauses, his tone turning even friskier, his gaze never left my body, running from top to bottom and back again.

"The hallways are… oh gosh, phenomenal. And then the casino... the casino, dear god, that place is…” He takes a moment to catch his breath, his eyes moving slowly across my body once again.

"It's like a playground for sin, darlin', and I could be playing for hours.” He pauses, smiling slyly as he lets the words sink in and stare at my eyes.

Right, he is definitely not talking about the hotel.

Before I could even consider how to respond to what I had just heard, our feet began to feel a familiar vibration. The earthquake was back and even more intense than the previous one. As I noticed a tower of precariously stacked chairs near the door begin to shake, I realized that they were about to fall towards us. Elvis acted quickly, grabbing me and pulling me to the ground for safety.

All I heard was an abundance of noise, and I could not see any clear semblance of my surroundings. This was primarily due to Elvis's arms and body shielding me for protection, blocking my view. With my eyes tightly closed, I waited until the violent shaking ceased.

"There you go. Now we can finish our little talk, 'ya alright, baby?" Elvis whispered. I cracked my eyes open when the commotion ceased, finding Elvis on top of me. He was supporting himself with his arms each just inches apart from both sides of my face, close to either cheek, leaving me speechless. I had never been so close to him before, I could feel his accelerated breath and smell his cologne - a combination of manly and clean and woody scents mixed with cigar aroma that had a truly captivating effect on me.

I felt something cold against my chin, and when I took a quick peek, I saw a golden necklace dangling from his neck. It gave me a quick peek of his bare chest, I had to struggle to control my blushes.

Reality hit me hard. If my boss found out that Elvis was injured and I didn't do anything to help him, I would be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Mr. Presley!" I exclaimed with a panicked tone. "Are you hurt? I am so sorry; it's me who should've looked after you. Please let me help you," I continued, as the anxiety consumed my body.

Elvis's smile faded from his face, as he focused on something else. This worried me since I didn't know what he was looking at. Was I bleeding or something?

To my surprise, he put his hand on my chest. My heart started to race. "Well, bless my soul! What a fine name you got Miss y/n y/ln" he said, reading my employer badge. His smile returned, leaving me feeling a bit flustered and exposed.

"Mr. Presley, I understand that you wish to learn my name, but I don't believe it is the best time for that" I responded in an attempt to maintain my cool.

“Please Mr. Presley, let me check if you are alright” I requested, trying to free myself from him. “Sorry this place is a bit tight I can’t barely move if you could please stand for a second…”

Elvis chuckled again, his eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Oh darlin’ I ain’t hurt. But I appreciate your care. Don't ya worry, I've been in tighter spots than this" he said, standing up and walking over to the wall.

I couldn’t help but feel anger rising within me; I was convinced that he treated every woman in the same manner. Despite those emotions, I desired his compliments to keep coming; had I become insane?

"I think I need to leave to make sure that everyone is safe," I said, cutting him off. Setting my pride and responsibilities as my top priority.

“Darlin’ don't even try and hide it, ya know you’re blushing like a damn beetroot” He gave me a naughty smirk.

I looked at him, and I walked towards the door, intending to leave the room. I felt like he was objectifying me, and I was not going to allow such a thing. “Good night, Mr Presley” I replied politely.

“Hey hold your horses lil’ lady! And please call me Elvis”. He continued, his tone more relaxed and friendly after seeing my reaction.

With a sense of courage, I grabbed the door handle, ready to exit the room and leave Elvis behind. I wondered what would happen next. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be strong enough to deal with my boss and meet Elvis’s requests. Maybe the best choice would be to resign. Yet, I was still waiting for him to beg me: "Please don't go, please don't go." He had me completely hooked already. And then…

The door was locked.

“C’mere sweetheart, m’sorry… I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.“ he said as he was walking close to me. “it was just a little tease, I didn't mean any disrespect, honey. You're a truly amazing woman." Elvis continued, curling one lip cheekily, making me smile a little.

“Apologies accepted. But I’m afraid we have a little problem, Elvis.” His eyes shined when I called him by his name.

“The door is locked. I am sorry, I could not even bring a walkie with me in case of emergency”

“Ah sweetheart, ya ain’t have to be sorry. I like stayin' here with ya, but I’m impressed how good ya are and how much ya care about others, we gotta lot in common. We both put our hearts into what we do, no matter what, ya know what I mean? So I’ll understand if ya wanna leave”

His words shocked me a bit. I made the wrong judgment about him. Despite the enormous fame that comes with being Elvis Presley and being surrounded by people constantly, he remained very kind towards me. Even so, with the earthquake, he was still gentle and protected me. This man surely belongs to another world.

“Darlin’, ya want me to open the door for ya?” He asked, leaving me concerned.

“Oh no, please don’t push or bang I don’t want you to get hurt” I insisted.

“Honey. I’ll show ya how a real man handles a door. Step on the side” He said with confidence.

His words made me confused, I didn't know what to expect next. Elvis opened up his robe, reaching deep inside his chest where the white strip was. To my surprise, the white strip was a shoulder holster. he took out the gun and fired at the door as it was made of paper.

The noise was deafening, and made me scream in shock and take refuge in his arms. I thought the bullet might ricochet and come right back at us.

“Y'know, sugar, maybe that ain't your first scream, but I promise ya ain't gonna be the last one" Elvis joked while looking at me in a teasing way with his right eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked with an irritated tone. "You just fired a fucking gun right next to my ear!" He didn't seem to take me seriously, instead smiling slyly and wrapping his arms around me.

"Don't get angry, darlin'," he said, his breath making me shiver. His chest was still exposed, and I had to fight not to look.

"You're right, I shouldn't have scared you like this" he continued, his tone soothing. "But at least I did open the door, right?"

"You're right" I whispered back, my voice trembling. "At least you did open the door." I looked up at him, his gaze locked with mine, my breathing getting heavier.

"I think you're enjoying this little surprise,darlin’” was all Elvis said with a charming grin, caressing my back with his fingers while the other hand kept me firmly to him.

I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but his big and strong arms were impossible to pry free. And to be honest, I wasn't really trying so hard to escape his embrace, either. In fact, I was starting to feel quite...

"Yes, I think you like it." Elvis breathed deeply, his voice and breath coming across as both intense and sultry as he was feeling my heartbeat.

My irritation and annoyance started to disappear, and I couldn't fight the urge to look at him.

When I realized what I was doing. I pulled away from him to regain awareness of myself. I knew I shouldn't be acting this way, yet I was helpless against the charm that Elvis held.

Elvis chuckled softly as I pulled away and straightened myself. He looked at me with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something more.

Suddenly, we heard a sound, and I assumed that it was the rumblings of the earthquake. However, when the footsteps began to get louder, we realized that it was actually a pair of feet rushing towards us.

Eventually, Joe Esposito opened the door from the other side. There was a distinct look of surprise on his face when he saw us.

"Elvis? Elvis! Are you ok?" Joe asked, his voice tinged with concern. "We were looking for you and heard the gunshots, what's going on?" He inquired, relieved but also worried.

“Hey man, all good don’t ya worry. We just got stuck down here. But thank God miss y/ln was very professional and supportive. My clever girl…” Elvis winked at me and smiled.

"Good evening, Mr. Esposito." I had met Joe previously while working with Elvis and was aware of his efforts in coordinating everything around the hotel in advance for him.

"Thank you for locating us." I said in a grateful tone, "I've made my attempts to keep Elvis safe at all times while we were inside this room, and I'm grateful that you've come to assist us."

Joe remarked with a smile, "Miss Y/ln, thank you so much for your exceptional services. Now I know that Elvis was in safe hands. Let me give you my number to keep in touch, beautiful. You deserve a good tip."

Before Joe could proceed, Elvis stopped him and whispered something quietly to him and Joe stopped. I couldn't make out what was said, but Elvis's expression was serious. After the little whisper, Elvis looked at me with a warm smile.

"Well, Miss," Joe continued, "I better take Elvis to a safe place immediately. The Colonel is going nuts!"

“Absolutely” I replied "If you require any additional assistance, do not hesitate to let me know. Have a lovely evening, gentlemen."

As I flashed my customer-service smile, Elvis returned my expression with a sly, cheeky grin. I couldn't help but return the gesture, amused by his impish expression.

“Nice to meet ya Miss y/ln. Until we get locked again in another dark room sometime.” Elvis mumbled with a smirk as he walked down the corridor.

“Sure thing, boss” I smiled whispering to myself.

Part 2 here!

#asshlyyyy recommends #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis fanfic

[asshlyyyy]

Pretty Stars

PT .1

PT .2???

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x Rival! Rockstar! OC

WARNINGS: EATING DISORDERS, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, EXPLOITATION, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, inaccurate time lines probably, this is more depressing than my other stories, age gap (OC is 19 and Elvis is 23), foul language, Elvis is an asshole but so is OC, typical rivalry things, enemies to lovers

NSFW WARNINGS: NONE, it will all be in part 2 if this does well :)

Don’t be shy, request something!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Rosalee Marziel worked her ass off to get where she stood today, and she’d die before she let some stupid boy ruin it for her.

She’d lived in cities since she was a toddler, and growing up in such a hostile place causes you to realize that no one will help you but you. It took her losing her mother, her extended family, and a few boyfriends and flings to realize this. Once she had nothing, and was at rock bottom, of course she’d sign her life away. What more did she have to lose when everything was already lost?

The 1st amendment no longer felt like it applied to Rosalee. She was stripped bare of her former self, and instead embodied a new persona, Rose Marz. Rose Marz was confident, selfless, bold, and had no problems making a statement. She was a music, movie, and fashion icon all the way past France.

Truth was, she’d been groomed since she’d signed her life away when she was only 15. Groomed by the men around her who only wanted the greatest pleasures of life, and naive Rosalee Marziel was their ticket to that. ‘Wear less, and more of this’ they’d tell her as they held up skimpy playboy sets. She was 16. ‘More makeup, she’s aging.” They’d tell her makeup artists. She was 17. By the time she had reached 18, she’d corrected every little flaw they had pointed out. She spent hours covering acne scars, moles, and stretch marks.

She’d powder and cake herself in flawless natural makeup, which wasn’t so natural once you’d watch her apply a ton of it. She formed an eating disorder and lived off of eating Cesar salads with extra grilled chicken, and even then, she’d sometimes feel herself become sick. The smell, taste and feel of food made her vomit in her mouth. So, when she went to ball events, charity event, etc.; she’d stick to a glass of water and give tight lipped smiles when offered a plate of appetizers.

You’d think oranges were her favorite fruit, but she’d only eat them when she’d gain a pound or 2. Her stomach pains sometimes became unbearable, but beauty is pain, or at least that’s what her producers would tell her with money on their tongues. Sometimes she swore instead of feeling spit when they’d speak to her, she felt hard and cold coins. God forbid they found out she’d eaten that day, the comments would strike up.

The ones that formed her eating disorder in the first place. The ones that make her cry herself to sleep and curl into a ball. The ones that made her weep for her dead, junkie of a mother. The ones that made her throw up her insides till her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. And the ones that made her wanna not wake up the next day.

Roses first gig was a lousy bar her old manager booked for an hour. It’s one she’ll never forget, I mean, it’s what sparked her love for preforming in every sense of the word. On stage, she didn’t have to be the broken shell of a little girl, especially not when she heard people cheering her name. The rush of adrenaline shot into her veins was addicting and was a high she’d strive to chase any moment she could. In those first moments, she felt like her body was on fire, and the words slipping from her mouth held every ounce of raw emotion she would never normally say.

She had something other rising female preforms didn’t have, and that was a genuine love for music. They didn’t have the same spark in their eyes like she did. They weren’t passionate about the lyrics they wrote or sang. The only reason they were famous was because of their sex appeal.

Climbing the ranks in a male dominated industry wasn’t an easy task by any means, but Rose managed to do it. She sunk her perfectly manicured claws into their backs to rise herself to get to where she was today. Past Carl Perkins, past Johnny Cash, even past Jerry Lee Lewis. She was at the top of her game.

Showered in every luxury she could imagine. Queen worthy jewelry, the latest and hottest cars, 3 mansions and 10+ houses stationed all around America. Her favorite house was stationed all the way in Milan, Italy. She had an endless list of ‘friends’ and men throwing themselves at her feet for even a glance, but she wasn’t naive anymore. She could see right through them with the x-ray vision she swore to herself she had.

Hell, even the Kennedys loved her.

But none of it was ever enough. None of it made the throbbing pains in her head, chest, and stomach stop. It didn’t stop her from taking nearly lethal amounts of pills on her roughest days in hopes that just maybe she’ll find the courage to take a little more.

Rose was never satisfied with the life she had. And when they started throwing her in movies alongside people she didn’t care to know, she nearly lost herself. Rose? An actor? That couldn’t be right. She was a singer. But it’s what her fans wanted, which means it’s what her producers would make her do.

She was sure her fans adored her, and she was grateful that they did, but a small part of her detested them. A small part of her had wished she’d never became famous. If she knew this would be her at only 19 years old, she would’ve ran away from that man with a few papers and a pen all the way to across the globe. But she could never bring herself to hate the people who got her to where she is today.

They are the only reason she’s able to live the way she does, after all. Those little girls who look up to her, dreaming of being in her shoes and, wishing to be like her when they get older and cheering her on from crowds will always be the reason she continues to preform. But how badly she wanted to cradle them and tell them ‘careful what you wish for.’ Because she wishes someone had told her.

Though she was at the top of her game, there was still one large obstacle in the form of a southern man.

Elvis Presley.

No matter how many movies she starred in, or how many songs she made—no matter how many awards she won and was nominated for, he always somehow managed to beat her. Not to mention the constant comparison she was always faced with when I came to him. ‘Elvis does this better’ her manager would start. ‘So you need to do this’. He’d say.

I learned how to dance, and Elvis was the star of a dance musical called ‘Copacabana’ the next day. I mentioned i knew how to draw, and all the sudden Elvis’ art was plastered in museums. The list goes on and on of him trying to out-do her an coming out successful. Naturally, Rose wouldn’t care, but at the end of the day it was her having to hear her entire management team on her ass. One time her producer even phoned in about it.

It was a constant battle between the two and it seemed like an endless cat and mouse game. Not to mention Elvis throwing loads of shade at her when he was in the press a few weeks prior. Since then, anytime she’s been asked about their ongoing rivalry in the press, she’s said the upmost worst things about him. If it was any other A list celebrity, her manager would have her head, but it was the 2 most hottest people in America going head to head like bulls. Obviously it would make both parties become a more popular subject, and the more publicity, the better.

And now they want Elvis and Rose to preform together for a Valentines special? Hah, they must be crazy to think they wouldn’t claw each others throats out. Rose had never dared to protest against anything her producers and managers had planned for her—the last time she did she was beaten. But this—this is the one thing she wouldn’t go down without a fight for. After a good year and give or take a few months of going against each other, why would they now want them to make amends? The damage had already been done.

Rose was fortunate enough of never having to actually meet the man talking the upmost shit about her in person, till now.

As she sat in her dressing room, she could swear her makeup was sweating itself off, resulting in her panicking. Her eye makeup was dark and bold, and her lips were a faded cherry red. The dark mole above the corner of her lip just barely peeking through her pounds of foundation. Her hair was was naturally a brunette, but her main manager thought blonde would be a better look on her. So now she sat with her blonde hair teased and overly large, adorned in pink and red flowers to match the Valentines theme.

Rose felt her confidence begin to dwell as she thought of every possible terrible outcome this show could bring. Her brows furrowing as she applied setting powder aggressively while thinking of beating that stupid man, Elvis Presley, to a pulp if he tainted her imagine in any way, shape, or form.

A knock on her dressing room door brought her out of her thoughts. “Miss Rose, it’s almost time.” An annoying feminine voice said from behind the door. Rose huffed as she got up. “Alright, give me a moment.” She yelled back as she began to dress herself.

They’d chosen a white, tight fitted turtle neck long sleeved shirt for her to wear, paired with a short, light pink dress to go over it and a large white belt fit around her waist to seem more slim. The knee high white leather boots and different shades of pink and red heart earrings pulled the whole look together as she stared at herself in the long mirror in front of her.

She smoothed her hands down her dress as she took in a long breath of air before she finally found the courage to leave her dressing room.

When she stepped out, the narrow backstage hallways parted like the Red Sea at her entrance. Her manager, a short old man with the personality of a donkeys ass, stumbled his way over to her.

“Ah, Rose! There you are, come.” He said urgently as he tightly gripped her upper arm. Rose didn’t get a chance to respond, and instead winced as she was dragged along with him to wherever he was taking her. Their walk wasn’t long as they stopped at a tall man with his back turned to them.

“Mr. Presley.” Her manager coughed out, making his prescene known. Rose fought an eye roll. The man turned around and Rose swore her jaw could’ve dropped right then and there. The pictures and interviews did him no justice, as he was even more good looking in person, much to Roses dismay. Nonetheless, this god of a man was still her biggest rival and the only person stopped her from being deemed ‘queen of rock n roll’ on every cover of The Rolling Stone Magazine

Screw him and his charming smile. She hated his stupidly perfect hair—and she wanted to pull the little strand hanging out on the front out of his head. She wanted to punch him in his perfectly chiseled jaw, and same with his nose. She didn’t like the fact that he easily towered over her, even in heels, so she thought about kicking him in the back of his knees to bring him to the ground where she thought he belonged— below her.

Elvis on the other hand felt his breath get caught in his throat and her nearly dropped the cup of water held in his hand. There she stood, in all her terrorizing glory, was Rose Marz. But Elvis’ eyes couldn’t help but linger on the chubby fingers tightly wrapped around her arm, almost in a painful manner.

How could this little thing be his biggest competition? She was so small. So pretty. So- “fuck you.” So vulgar. That was the first thing she’d ever said to him, and he’d remember it for the rest of his life. He would’ve been offended if it wasn’t for the fact that she was so damn cute with her furrowed brows and pouty red lips.

Her managers face went pale as a ghost. “Aha!! She meant hello!” He nervously laughed as he glared at Rose through the corner of his eye. The small girl let out a huff. “Elvis.” She acknowledged, sizing him up with a quirked brow. He felt a chuckle rumble deep in his chest.

Rose turned her head downward to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks at his intense gaze, even as he talked to her manager. “That’s quite alright, Mr.Smith. How ya doin, Rose?” He said in that southern draw that made all the girls’ head spin and panties drop. Now Rose understood why, but she would never admit it aloud.

“Terrible since I seen you.” She said with an eye roll. Elvis pursed his lips. “I’m real sorry ‘bout what I said in the press about ya.” He replied with a nervous chuckle. Roses head shot up at that. “Liar!” She called out with a pointer finger.

“Jesus, Rose! Can’t you act civilized for one damn moment?!” Her manager screamed in her face. Rose went beat red in embarrassment, her hands clenched into fists. The old fat man looked at her pointedly. “Excuse my behavior, Mr.Presley.” She said through clenched teeth and false smile.

Elvis pondered for a moment as he took in the situation before him, before coming to a conclusion. “Lemme take ya to dinner to make up for it, Rose.” He said. Something boyish was swirling in his eyes and a certain hope was in his small smile he sent her way. Rose opened her mouth to reject his offer, but it seemed her manager had other plans. “Yes, of course she’ll go!” He answered for her.

Elvis merely glanced down at the obnoxious fat man. “I’d like for her to answer.” He stated with a glare. Rose paused. No one had ever stood up for her like that. No one batted an eye when people would yell at her, grab her, or even beat her to a pulp. She didn’t know what to think—or even how to act.

Her mouth was hung agape as he awaited her answer. “I—uh, sure.” She responded—seemingly in a daze as she gazed up at the taller man. His eyes danced all across her face before stopping at the mole she tried so desperately to hide. “Tomorrow night.” He said before his eyes snapped up to meet hers again.

Rose, absent minded, merely nodded her head.

“You’re on in 5!” Someone shouted over the loud backstage ruckus. That caught Roses attention as she quickly smoothed herself out and took in a deep breath. Elvis reached his hand out towards her. “Shall we?” He asked with a smirk.

Rose rolled her eyes as she slapped his hand away. “Let’s just get this over with.” She replied as she turned quickly away from him.

But Elvis didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

this wasn’t proofread

#asshlyyyy recommends #70s elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis presley fic

[asshlyyyy]

Thanksgiving

Fic Warnings: There are no warnings from what I know. Reader and Elvis do have a baby. Davada is mentioned for a bit, but this is just wholesome content. There may be spelling and grammatical errors. Author's note at the end.

Masterlist | Next Part

Thanksgiving. A day to get together with family. Yet, it is also a very stressful day for the cook. Which so happened to be you. Typically you had Thanksgiving at your parent's house, yet for some stupid reason, you spoke up and took the chef’s hat. You didn’t know the first thing about how to cook a turkey! Thank god they made Thanksgiving cookbooks because lord knows you would’ve messed up big time.

Your eyes fluttered open gently as you felt your body forcing you to wake up. You scrunched yourself up as you reached over for your husband. You let out a hum as his body turned over. You looked up at his face, your eyes still adjusting to waking up. The sunshine was slowly creeping past the blackout curtains. The sounds of birds chirping filled the air gently. 

“Mmm, mornin’,” Elvis spoke groggily, still trying to wake up himself. 

“Morning,” you responded back softly. These were your moments of silence before you two would be forced awake to tend to your son. “I have to get up, I have to start prepping dinner.”

“Already?” Elvis asked confused as he brought his thumb up to your cheek, caressing it gently. 

“Well, I have to do breakfast first. Then I think I read that the turkey can take anywhere between… two up to six hours.” You explained to him.

“That’s a long time…”

“It just depends on how many pounds it is,” you explained as you tried to pull yourself away. 

“Mm, come back,” he hit you with that thick, raspy, southern accent. You hummed at the sound as he pulled you back to him. 

“I have to get ready,” you said as you looked into his blue orbs.

“And I think we should stay in bed a bit longer,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses behind.

“We have a son to tend to,” you hummed as you lifted your chin, giving him more room.

“In a second,” he muttered and ran his hands up your shirt, grasping the two soft breasts. You let out a light moan and closed your eyes gently. You didn’t know what got Elvis in a touchy mood, but you weren’t complaining. Then again, you had to start prepping for Thanksgiving… You didn’t want to flop and no one wants to come to yours ever again. 

“Elvis,” you whispered. He hummed and pulled away knowing if he didn’t stop you would yell at him. 

“Alright alright,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. You returned the kiss happily and got up. You made your way into the closet, just as Elvis got up to check on your son. 

You had him when you two first got into a relationship. He was an accident, yes, but you both love him so much than that. Elvis was a little reluctant at first, not really knowing if he could handle kids. Yet, he turned out to be one of the best fathers ever. You both were scared honestly. 

You were only twenty-one at the time, Elvis was twenty-seven. You’ve known him for a couple of months before you two got together, but… for some reason you got pregnant, no matter how many times you two did it, you didn’t get pregnant till you were together. Weird how the world works out sometimes. 

As you came out of the shower you wrapped yourself up in a towel to dry off. You walked over to the sink and did some light skincare before going and drying off completely. You slipped into your robe and went over to your vanity to get ready. 

“There he is,” Elvis smiled as his son finally opened his eyes up. Your son responded by rubbing his eyes, confused as to why his father was waiting for him to wake up. “Mornin’ bub.”

“Hai,” Theo responded still tired from waking up. Elvis reached down for him and picked him up. 

“Do you know what today is?” Elvis questioned as he walked over to the closet, Theo’s hands tightly holding onto the robe Elvis threw on. 

“No,” he responded with a soft voice and a shake of his head.

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Elvis said as he made his way downstairs. 

“Wot danktdiving?” Theo asked confused as he picked his head up to look at his father. This was only going to be his second Thanksgiving, and even so, you knew Thanksgiving was gonna have to be explained for many more years to come. 

“It is a time when families gather together and feast upon a big feast while giving thanks for things we are thankful for,” Elvis explained, though he doubted Theodore picked up on any of that. 

“Wot you dankful for?” The young boy curiously asked. 

“Your mama,” Elvis answered in a heartbeat as he pulled out the milk. “Yourself,” Elis smiled as he tickled Theodore’s belly. Theo responded with a fit of giggles. He was surely awake now. 

Elvis placed Theodore on the counter and turned the sink on to warm water, just to warm up the milk a bit. “My family, your mama’s family. Ma fans, I’m thankful for a lot.” Elvis continued down his list.

“Mama!” Theodore explained. 

“Yes, I am thankful for her,” Elvis responded and handed him the milk bottle. Theo took it in his hands and started to drink out of the straw. You two always prepared a bottle of milk for him so you wouldn’t have to worry about prepping it in the morning. 

Elvis walked over to the coffee maker and started to get the coffee ready. He knew you both were gonna need a lot of coffee to make it through the day. He looked over at Theo to make sure everything was okay with him. As he did he noticed you coming down the stairs. Dressed all beautifully in Thanksgiving colors. 

“What?” You asked confused as you noticed two sets of blue eyes on you. “Is my makeup smudged?” You asked as you walked over to Theo and pressed your lips on the top of his head.

“You look beautiful,” Elvis admitted. You always looked beautiful in his eyes. No matter what you looked like or what you wore. He found you beautiful. 

“Thank you,” you responded with a smile and walked over to him. “You should get dressed.” You said as you smoothed out his silk robe.

“But-”

“No buts, now go on,” you whispered and pressed up on your toes and pressed your lips against his for a short kiss. Elvis hummed against your lips happily and placed his hand on your hips. Once the two of you pulled away he gave your hip a squeeze and made his way up the stairs. 

“Who’s ready for breakfast?!” You clapped your hands together as you went over to Theo, who had just finished his milk.

“Me!” He exclaimed with a smile. 

“Yeah? What do you want?” You questioned him with a smile. 

“Um…” Theodore started to think about what he wanted. 

“Do you want… pancakes?” You questioned. Theo responded with a shake of his head. “Oatmeal?” Another shake. “Eggs and bacon?”

“Wes!” He exclaimed happily. You smiled and picked him up from his spot on the counter, dragged over his high chair, and placed him in it. 

You went over to the fridge and pulled out the things you needed. Eggs, bacon, sausage, butter, jelly, hashbrowns, etc. You grabbed out a big bowl and started to make breakfast. You hummed lightly and worked elegantly around the kitchen. 

Elvis came down after he finished getting ready and opened the fridge. He pulled out glasses from the cabinet and started to fill them up. In the background, Theo was babbling about a story. “Yeah?” Elvis urged him to go on. You smiled looking over at him. “No way,” Elvis turned to look at him shocked. Theo giggled and nodded at his father. 

You two enjoyed breakfast and you cleaned up the kitchen while Elvis got Theodore ready for the day. You prepped the turkey and got Elvis to put it in the oven. You had some time to relax before you had to slave away in the kitchen. Elvis offered many times to help, but to be honest… Elvis in the kitchen can be a bit too much sometimes. He was best playing with your son.

The sound of the doorbell filled your ears as you worked on mashing the potatoes together. “Elvis! Hun! Can you get that!” You called out to him. You knew he was right in the family room next to the door, but it couldn’t hurt. 

Elvis stood up from the pile of toys he was in and made his way over to the door. He pulled it open and was greeted by your family. Both your parents and your younger brother. “Hey,” Elvis said with a smile and moved out of the way. “Please come in.”

Your parents both thanked the tall gentleman and walked in. As they did they started to take their coats off which Elvis offered to take. It didn’t take long until your mother made her way over to your perfect baby boy. Your father on the other hand made his way into the kitchen. They always say that a way to a man’s heart is through food. 

“There’s my hardworking daughter,”

“Hi Dad,” you smiled as you plugged the hand mixer in. “Mama with, Theo?” You questioned as you turned to look at him.

“You know it,” he chuckled lightly, “it smells amazing.” He complimented. You smiled softly as the words fell into your heart. Elvis was saying it all day, but to hear it from an outsider's opinion who wasn’t surrounded by the smell all day… it meant something more. 

“Thank you, Dad, it means a lot. I was actually nervous… but… we just took the turkey out and… it looks really good.” You didn’t want to speak too well on the subject just in case things would fall apart. 

“I’m sure everything will come together.” He smiled, and with that, he left you to finish up. There were just a few last things that needed to be put together before it could be eaten. Not to mention you were still waiting on a very important someone. 

“Oh my gosh, he’s just growing so big.” Your mother gushed at the two-year-old.

“He really is,” Elvis nodded in agreement. He felt bad for not helping you in the kitchen, but someone had to watch Theodore. He did help with the turkey though so maybe it wasn’t a total loss. He just didn’t want you to feel like you were a housewife, even though you were. He didn’t want to make you feel like you had to be one. 

Even if it was your idea to host Thanksgiving. Truth be told, you’ve been wanting to host for a while now, but Theo was one last year… then he was still just a newborn, and then you were pregnant. So the last three Thanksgivings weren’t a possibility. This was your time to shine, and you really wanted to make it perfect so that you could host again. 

It didn’t take long until the doorbell went off again. Elvis excused himself from your mother’s conversation and answered the door. His face dropped, and he swore his eye started to twitch. What was she doing here? Was all he could think of. He remembers specifically himself, and you, telling his dad HE was invited, not HER.

“Elvis,” Vernon said with a smile as he held a disclosed box in his hands. A favor you called in.

“Hi Daddy,” Elvis responded, but his eyes stayed on the fake Barbie standing in front of him. “What are you doing here, Davada?”

“Please, I’ve told you plenty of times it’s Dee, Elvis.” She laughed obnoxiously. He wanted to rip his ears off. They hadn’t even planned for her to show up, let alone with her three sons. 

“I hate to do this, but my wife simply hasn’t planned on this many people. We only planned for seven people.”

“You and Y/n finally got married?” Davada looked at him confused, ignoring that he was basically denying her entry. 

“Still engaged, but that’s none of your business. As I said, we simply don’t have the room or food to serve any more people.”

“Son,” Vernon put on a stern voice. 

“Daddy, I invited you. Y/n invited you. We planned for seven guests, not ten.” Elvis responded. You came out from the kitchen when you first heard her name, you only just came around the corner once you knew nothing was going to burn.

“Vernon,” you spoke with a small voice and a smile.

“There’s my daughter-in-law,” Vernon said with a smile as you welcomed him in with a side hug. “I got that cake you wanted,” he whispered in your ear. Your smile widened as you took the box out of his hands.

“You clean up very nicely, Y/n,” Davada broke you out of your calm thoughts. You let out a hum and turned towards her. 

“Hi Davada,” you spoke, refusing to use her nickname, “I’m sure Elvis has already told you, but there’s nearly not enough food.”

“Oh please, there’s always leftovers.” She tried to push herself in but Elvis stood his ground. There was one thing he wasn’t a fan of… strangers in his house. While she may have not been a stranger, he certainly didn’t like her. 

“Well, I planned according. There may be a few things left over, but not a lot. I do greatly apologize, but we had only seven people in mind for a month now at this point. I hope you do understand.” You responded to her. Elvis knew you meant business when you got fancy. You were always one to try and keep your cool, especially when your son was able to see you. 

“Well, I- Vernon,” she turned towards the older man for help. Vernon didn’t want to leave his family on Thanksgiving, but he also didn’t want to leave his wife and stepsons. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I’ll sneak you a slice of dessert.” Vernon frowned at his wife. Elvis felt a sense of happiness. He was honestly worried his father would either force her stay or leave with her. Shocked by Vernon’s response, Davada left upset. Elvis closed the door behind her and offered to take his father's coat. 

You made your way back to the kitchen and placed the cake in the fridge for safekeeping. At this point, everything was just about finished. You just had to wait for the buns to finish warming up. Elvis had already cut the turkey up… so all you really had to do was make your son’s plate. 

You picked up the plate that had divides in it and started to place the foods you knew he would eat. The turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, beans, and a little bit of gravy. You weren’t sure if he was going to eat the stuffing or cranberries but you put a little on the plate just in case. 

You heard the ding of the oven and placed the plate down. You walked over to the oven and opened the door and pulled out the buns, after putting on a pair of oven-safe gloves. You pulled out the buns and placed them over on the counter. You picked up your son's plate and brought it over to the dining room and placed it down on the high chair table. 

You made your way across the way and watched as your family played with your son. You smiled and walked over to Elvis where you wrapped your arm around his waist. Elvis wrapped his arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss on your head. 

“Dinner is ready,” you said softly as you looked up at him. 

“Yeah?” He rubbed your back gently. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.” He reassured you and looked towards the group around your son. 

“Dinner is ready y’all, head to the kitchen and fill up,” Elvis announced. Everyone muttered words and got up. Your mother picked up Theodore and brought him over to you.

“I’m sure everything will taste amazing, Y/n,” she said as she handed Theo over to you. With your son now in your arms, you smiled at your mother. 

“I hope so,” you chuckled lightly and fixed Theo’s hair lightly. 

“It will be,” she smiled and walked past you to meet with the others in the kitchen.

“I already prepped his dish ahead of time so we don’t have to worry about that. Can you get the wine though?” You asked your fiancé. Elvis nodded in return and pecked your lips before going to do that. 

You walked over to the dining room and placed Theo in his high chair. “Now remember to use your fork and spoon okay? No hands,” you said to him as you showed him his silverware. More like plasticware but… same thing in the end. You and Elvis were still trying to train Theodore to use silverware, but he got confused about when he should and shouldn’t use them.

“Oday,” he responded and picked up the fork. You pressed a kiss upon his head and walked into the kitchen. 

“Everything looks and smells amazing,” your younger brother, Johnston, complimented. 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to dig in. You did amazing,” Your dad added. You felt your face heat up from the compliments. You never thought of yourself as the best cook, but being a stay-at-home mom taught you otherwise. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly and walked over to the cabinet to grab the wine glasses out along with regular glasses to fill with water. 

Before you knew it, Elvis was back with the bottle of wine. He popped it open and poured it into the glasses you had prepared. He would fill two up, and you would take them out. Rinse and repeat until everyone had wine and water, and your son had juice. Then and only then did you and Elvis prepare your own plates. 

It didn’t take long until everyone was finished. Dinner was filled with laughs and stories, and some light tears from your son, but overall it was a very relaxed and happy dinner. 

“I hope everyone left room for dessert.” You spoke up once everyone had finished all their food. “It’s not your typical pie, though we do have some.”

“There’s always room for dessert,” your father spoke up, to which everyone laughed in response. You nodded at his response and stood up.

“Do you need help?” Elvis asked, to which you shook your head in response. You made your way into the kitchen and pulled out the box that you had Vernon bring. You brought it out to the dining room and placed it down. 

“Now I know that cakes are not typical on Thanksgiving… but this one comes with an announcement.” You explained as you opened the box up. In front of you was a round cake with a turkey made out of icing. It had four notable feathers. Each one with an initial. And Y/i for yourself, an E for Elvis, a T for Theodore, and then a question mark on the last one. 

Everyone looked at the cake confused, though it slowly clicked for each and every one of them. You turned your head over to Elvis, nervous for this reaction. You two have spoken about having more children before, just after you got married. Not to mention, things got difficult with his filming schedule. 

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke softly at first. You nodded softly answering his question, though, part of you knew he already knew the answer to that. Elvis stood up and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you. “When?”

“I found out last week. I’m eight weeks,” you replied. Elvis smiled and leaned down kissing you gently. You hummed against his lips and kissed back before you two shortly pulled away. You looked over at your family who congratulated you on the news. 

“Do you know when they are due?” Your mother asked.

“They’ll be a summer baby, no current date as for their arrival though.” You answered as you eased into Elvis’ side. 

“I hope they’re a girl,” she smiled softly. 

“I hope so too, but I’ll be happy with a boy as well,” you commented as you looked over at your son. He was your light in darkness just as Elvis is. They were your boys, and they were everything you needed in life. 

Special Tags: @darlinboypresley @austinstyles

Author's Note: Hi, I know it's been about... two months since my last post I believe? Well, my last fic posted. I had this whole list of what I wanted to do, and obviously... this is not the winning fic. I have been writing for different things. A fic I'm writing for my girlfriend (which will be posted once completed, I'm at five parts right now) Then just other things on my own.

I first came up with this idea back in 2017 for a different person, but I wanted to bring it back for the holidays. Yes, I know I am a bit late- but... There is a part two, for my annual Christmas post. It will be posted on the 20th to leave room for a Christmas post. Anyways, I want to get back into this account and finish some series... (I'm looking at you Fairytale. All you have left is one post!) Then I want to focus on my Personal Nurse fic. Since the original brought so much people to my account.

I'll see you again on the 20th, maybe sooner. Just know that those who still come and are active on my account I really appreciate it. I appreciate each and every comment received. Along with reblogs. They mean a lot, and it means more people can enjoy this.

#asshlyyyy writes #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you

[asshlyyyy]

I haven’t seen the movie yet, but the fact that people are hating on it because it makes him a “monster”. I think people forget that ‘Elvis’ was about the fame part of things. Completely skipping over the 60s. And ‘Priscilla’ while based off the book, is about her. He had anger issues, and you should “make it fail”. Jacob does a good job. He plays Elvis well. Austin plays Elvis well. You’re not a fan if you’re gonna hate on a movie.

I went to the priscilla movie and I read the book, allot of people will start calling me a fake fan because I educate myself on a topic I'm interested in, did it change my views on Elvis as a person absolutely NOT, I still love and adore that man the same maybe even more seeing such a vulnerable side of someone. There were parts in the movie that I don't agree with but besides that sofia Cailee and jacob all did a great job. Did he do better than austin? No, but he did play THIS version better. Everyone plays him in their own way and did their best and a good job.

If you're a fan on Tumblr and wanna watch the movie go watch it don't let the fans on Tumblr stop you, from what they're saying about it allot of people will tell you you're a fake fun because they don't wanna see reality of how he could be

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 16: cardigan

You don't remember climbing into bed or falling asleep when you beging to stir in your sheets.

Your eyes are puffy and sore, your head hurts, and you feel nauseous. You glance at the clock on your nightstand to check the time. It's almost eleven. You're so late for work. You've never slept in like this before.

You sit up too quickly, and the room begins to spin. You're about to get up from the bed when Bradley walks in.

"Hey there, beautiful." He smiles at you. He crosses the room to come and hug you, but you draw back from him. Retreating under the duvet.

"I don't feel well." You say softly. Your throat is dry and scratchy. "Let me get you some water and something to eat, and then we can talk. Okay?" Bradley asks you, trying to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Just some water. I'm not hungry. Why aren't you at work?" You question him.

"I called Mav yesterday. Told him we needed some time off." Bradley tells you. You nod your head and wrap the blankets tighter around your body as he leaves the room. You hear him pad down the hallway to the kitchen.

You don't know why, but you feel so exposed. You get up and go to your closet and pull out your softest wool cardigan and wrap yourself up in it before returning to bed.

The events from yesterday play over in your mind. You still can't believe that Persephone was in your home. You're also having a hard time processing everything that she confessed to doing to you.

For centuries, you thought you were a monster, but it turns out that she was one.

She had used you, damaged you, and then cast you aside, like an old sweater under someone's bed.

You wondered what Bradley would think of you now. Would he still love you? Or would he think of you as broken and unlovable? Your heart still hurt from Persephone's words about how Bradley would grow tired of you.

You wanted to believe that he would never do that, but the fear of him leaving you still crept into your mind.

You try to push the terrible thoughts from your mind, but they aren't the only ones that creep in. Your hand drifts down to your thigh, trailing over the valleys and grooves in your skin that your tattoos hide so well.

Scars from another time in your life when you wanted to feel something or when you felt low or like you deserved it. When you didn't know what else to do or how to process.

It's been years since you've done anything like that to yourself, but the hurricane of emotions brought back by Persephone has you thinking about the small obsidian knife you have tucked away in your nightstand.

You know you shouldn't, but the anxiety comes creeping in like an unwelcome guest and settles in your mind. You know that you should feel better for knowing that everything that happened wasn't your fault, but you've never felt more broken in your life.

So, maybe that's why you find yourself opening your nightstand and pulling the blade out before darting into your bathroom and locking the door.

You turn on the water in your bathtub as hot as it will go, hoping it will fill up quickly.

You press the tip of the blade to your upper thigh. The obsidian is a stark contrast to the water colors that currently cover it.

You strip down from your clothes before sitting on the edge of the tub. The small blade is in your hand. You grasp the handle so tightly that your knuckles turn white. Silent tears stream down your face as you slip into the water and draw your knees up to your chest.

You just want to feel in control

You draw it across your skin quickly, wincing at the pain, but you do it again and then again. It's not enjoyable, but it makes you feel better because it makes you feel in control.

The crimson of the fresh blood that you've just drawn mixes with the scalding water of your bath, turning it a light pink color.

"Angel? Are you alright in there? I hear the tub running." He calls through the door. "I brought you something to drink and a snack." He says as he reaches for the door knob. He jiggles it and finds it locked.

You're just about to draw your blade across your thigh again, when you hear Bradley knocking on the bathroom door.

Shit

"Angel. Open the door. You're scaring me." Bradley says again after a few minutes.

"Angel, why is the door locked? Is everything okay?" Bradley's voice rises a decibel. You don't answer him. Hoping he will take your silence as a hint to go away. You don't want him to see you like this. You'd never be able to explain this to him.

How could you?

"Go away, Bradley!" You practically yell at him as fresh tears fill your eyes.

"Hades, I will not go away. I am worried about you. Please, open the door, or I'll open it myself." Bradley says sternly. You start to panic as he jiggles the door handle again, more forcefully this time.

You quickly jump up from the tub and pull the plug, willing the water to drain as fast as possible. You grab a towel from the rack and wrap it around your body trying to cover your fresh cuts.

In your haste, you lose track of your knife as you quickly go to open the door because Bradley has started counting.

"Three!" You hear him breathe out just as you open the door. He takes a step back and looks at your face. "Why was the door locked?" He asks you.

"I just wanted some privacy." You tell him as you try to catch your breath. You are uneasy about something. Bradley can sense you aren't being totally honest with him.

He takes stock of you, and that's when he noticed the rivers of red running down your leg and staining the towel.

"You're bleeding." He tells you, alarmed. You look down and see that in your frenzy, you hadn't stopped the bleeding. "Why are you bleeding? Did you fall or something?" Bradley asks you, reaching forward.

"No, I must have just scratched myself." You hesitate as you take a step away from him and try to retreat back into the safety of the bathroom.

Bradley follows you in because he knows something is wrong. "Let me help you get cleaned up and make sure you're okay." Bradley says.

"I'm fine, honey, I promise. I can take care of myself." You back away from him, but he continues to invade your space.

You don't pay attention to where you're stepping, and your foot lands right on the handle of your misplaced knife, causing you to trip and fall to the floor. Your towel comes open, and you scramble to cover yourself, but it's too late. Bradley's eyes are wide with shock as shame fills your body.

"Angel—Angel what happened? Did you—did you do this to yourself?" Bradley's voice trembles as he drops to his knees to inspect the fresh cuts on your leg.

"Bradley, stop. It's not what you think. It's not what it looks like." You try to reason with him and push his hands away, but he grabs your wrists, forcing you to still.

"Angel. My beautiful girl—why—why did you do this? Why would you do this to yourself? Did I—is it something I did? Is it because of me? Please—please talk to me." Bradley cries, unable to hold back the tears.

"No, Bradley. It's not you Love it's—it's—" you don't know how to respond to him.

"You cut yourself. Why? Why did you hurt yourself? I don't understand. Please—just tell me why." Bradley sobs as he runs his hands over your thigh, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Bradley, stop. Just leave me alone. You wouldn't understand." You try to push him away, but he holds onto you tightly.

"Then help me understand." He whispers as he meets your eyes.

You sigh and blink back your own tears.

"It makes me feel in control." You whisper. Bradley cocks his head to the side, trying to process what you said.

"I've had so much happen to me that I couldn't control. And no one was there to help me process it. This was something I could control. Something I had power over." You say as you gesture to your ink covered thigh.

"You've done this before?" Bradley asks you. You nod your head before running your hand over your leg. The tattoos that were once there vanish, uncovering the centuries of scars that you've given yourself.

"Oh, Baby." Bradley breathes out softly as he gently traces over them. Silent tears stream down your cheeks as he cups your face.

"Angel, my sweet girl." He soothes you. "I don't ever want to see you hurt yourself again. I'm begging you. If you're struggling, talk to me. Whatever pain you have, give it to me. I can take it. I'm strong enough for the both of us. Okay?" Bradley gently wipes the tears from your eyes.

"You aren't alone in the world anymore. You have me, and I will always be here for you." Bradley assures you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lifting you off of the floor and placing you on the counter.

Silently, he grabs the first-aid kit and cleans your wounds before you put your tattoos back on. "Why don't I get you some clothes and lay them out, and while you get changed, I can go make some popcorn, and we can curl up on the couch and watch a movie. How does that should?" Bradley asks you as he cups your face.

"Sounds good." You nod. "Perfect," he smiles before helping you off the counter. You stay there in the bathroom a few moments longer, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes are puffy and red rimmed. Your skin is dull, and your hair is flat and kind of greasy, but you can't bring yourself to care. Bradley doesn't seem to mind either. You sigh and splash some water on your face before exiting the en suite.

Stepping into your bedroom, you see that Bradley has laid out one of his UVA sweatshirts and a pair of your soft leggings on the bed.

You pad over and pick up the navy-blue fleece and bring it to your nose. Even though it'd been through the wash and tucked away in the closet, the smell of Bradley hangs around on it, bringing you instant relief as you revel in his scent.

You slide the garment on it dwarfs you, falling to your mid thigh. Sometimes you forget just how big Bradley is. You forgo your leggings and plop your hair into a messy bun before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt so your hands are free.

You quietly make your way into the living room, and you find Bradley already perched on his side of the couch with a blanket thrown over him. The smell of freshly made popcorn lingers in the air, and you can see that Hyrda and Cerberus are curled up together in Cerberus' oversized dog bed at the far end of the room napping peacefully in the pale mid-day sun that filters in through the curtains.

You walk up to the back of the couch and slip your arms around Bradley's shoulders, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck and placing a few kisses there.

"Hi, Baby." He whispers to you as he turns his head to meet your lip. "Hi, Love." You echo back to him before making your way around and plopping down beside him as close as you possibly can. He wraps the blanket around the two of you as you tuck your feet beside you.

Bradley shifts both of you, stretching out before pulling you against his chest. He tucks you under his chin as one of his strong arms wraps around you, securing you against his chest while his other hand rests on the exposed part of your thigh. He traces lazy shapes along it as he starts the movie.

It's one that you've both seen before, a romantic comedy. Sure, you already know how it ends, but you still enjoy it. You love how Bradley's laugh rumbles in his chest while you're pressed against him. You also enjoy the sweet kisses he presses to your temple each time he leans down to feed you a handful of popcorn.

You tangle your legs with his and bask in the closeness. The sweatshirt you're wearing has ridden up partially due to your position on the couch and partially because of Bradley's wandering hand, which has now slipped under the material.

Currently, he's tracing long lines along between your rib cage and the elastic of your underwear. Every so often, though, his fingertips will head a tad bit further south and skim just under the band if your panties, or they will head an inch more north and he'll graze the underside of your breast.

But it's never anything more than a fleeting touch, over just as quick as it happened. You shift slightly, drawing closer to him, and you can feel him start to harden through the material of his sweatpants. But Bradley doesn't say anything. He's never pushed you to do anything you didn't want to do, and right now is no different.

You enjoy how close you are with him. Tender, quiet moments like this have been rare in your life. You love how safe and secure you feel right now wrapped up in his big, strong arms. You love how he makes you feel small. Not in a weak way, but in a protected way.

You sigh and turn so you can kiss him. Feathering light pecks along his neck until you reach the sweet spot behind his ear that has him letting out a contented sigh as he curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, securing you there for just a moment before cupping your jaw and kissing you.

His kisses are salty and buttery like the popcorn the two of you have been sharing as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. You slide up further, straddling him more as he falls onto his back, head resting on the arm of the couch.

You toy with the hem of his shirt before pulling it off of him. Not as a precursor to sex, but as a need to feel closer to him.

Bradley pulls you on top of him, chest to chest, as the two of you lazily get lost in the feel of each other's mouths. His hands rest against your thighs, respectfully as you wrap your arms around his neck.

You love how close the two of you are, but it's not enough. You want to be fully enveloped by him. You want Bradley to flood your senses. You want everything you can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel to be Bradley, all Bradley. You're close, but not close enough. You need more of him. You need all of him.

"Love." You whisper against his lips, drawing him to you.

"Yes?" He hums back in response.

"I wanna be close to you." You murmur. Bradley quirks an eyebrow at you. "You are close to me, baby." He chuckles and squeezes his arms around you to illustrate his point.

"Wanna be closer." You tell him, nuzzling into his chest, not quite sure how to articulate your point.

"Baby, you can't get much closer. Here." He says, slipping his sweatshirt off of your body. He pulls your now bare torso flush with his and sighs. "Is that better?" He asks as traces the length of your spine, trying to help you settle.

You squirm against him. It is better, truly, but it still isn't enough. You want to be so close to him that you can't tell where he stops, and you begin.

"Closer, please. I need it." You almost beg against his skin as you shift your hips.

And that's when it clicks for Bradley as to what you are asking him.

"Angel, baby, do you want to cockwarm me?" He asks you almost hesitantly. You nod your head against him. That's exactly what you want. You just weren't sure how to ask him.

"Okay, okay. I'm not— I'm not fully hard though." Bradley admits.

"S'okay. I'll get to feel you fill me up." You say.

Bradley smiled and kisses your lips before having you sit up enough for him to slide his sweatpants down. He pulls your underwear to the side and grabs your hips to help guide you down over his semi-hard member.

You whine until you're fully seated against him. Then, you sigh contentedly and settle against his chest. You squeeze your walls around him, and Bradley hisses at the motion , but doesn't protest.

He wraps the blanket around both of you before securing his fingers in your hair, gently running them through it.

You wiggle your hip slightly as you feel Bradley growing harder, until he has filled you completely, stretching your walls in the most delicious way, that only he is able to do.

"Feels so good. Love being so close to you." You praise him as you rest your chin on his sternum and look up at him with stars in your eyes.

"Yeah?" Bradley asks you as if he doesn't know that his tip is just grazing that sweet spot inside you that has your eyes fluttering closed.

A breathy moan passes from Bradley's lips. His grip on your hips tightened. "Sweetheart, if you keep doing that, it's going to be awful hard for me to lay here and not have you." He threatens weakly.

"You're such a good girl for me. You know that? Keeping me so warm, gripping me so tight." He praises you as he brushes a few stray strands of hair away from your face.

"You're my favorite person in the whole world, Angel. Don't you forget that." Bradley assures you. You preen at his praise and constrict your walls around him.

You pop up on your elbows and look him in the eye. "Then have me." You state. Bradley shakes his head at your audacity before experimentally thrusting upward.

You keen at the sensation as he does it again. Building a lazy rhythm that has your toes curling and your insides buzzing.

You collapse against his chest and let the feeling of him filling you over and over flood your system as you take everything that Bradley gives you.

You clench his length as you feel the blunt tips of his fingernails dig into your thighs. A telltale sign that he's close.

"Fuck, Angel—I—" He rasps out as he fights to stave off his orgasm, but it's no use. You're gripping him just right, and he was already so close from you cockwarming him that Bradley spills into you before he's had a chance to get you off.

"I'm so sorry, baby. You just felt so good, and you were being such a good girl, taking me so well, I couldn't help it."

"You're fine, Love." You chuckle. You're still laying on him. You can feel his spent cock throbbing inside you, neither of you making any effort to move.

Then, without warning, Bradley eases you off off him and onto your back. He sinks to his knees and carefully pulls your panties off of you.

He pauses to admire the way his spend drips out of you and runs down your thighs, marking you as his.

"Bradley, what are you doing?" You ask him.

"Rectifying the situation." He tells you. Before you can ask him what that means, his lips connect with your core.

You cry out in pleasure and surprise as he makes obscene slurping sounds from between your legs. If it didn't feel so good, you'd be embarrassed. But the sounds Bradley makes let you know that he's more than enjoying himself.

No matter how many times Bradley has been on his knees for you, he never ceases to surprise and amaze you at his eagerness to do so.

You sometimes wonder if he enjoys it more than you do.

It doesn't take him long to have you teetering on the cusp of an orgasm. He eases one of your legs over his shoulder and shakes his head back and forth as he laps at your cunt over and over again.

Your finish hits you hard and fast as it gushs out of you all over his face and the sofa. You scream so loud that it rouses Hydra and Cerberus from their slumber.

You have half a mind to be worried about the mess you've made, but Bradley doesn't care as he works your core until you're utterly spent and weakly pulling at his mused curls to get him to stop as the overstimulation sets in.

When you can open your eyes again, you find Bradley looking up at you with a dopey grin and a glistening chin.

"You're something else, you know that?" You huff out a laugh. "So I've been told." He says as he gets up to his feet and goes to the kitchen for a drink.

"So, another movie?" He asks as he comes back in like nothing happened. "Yeah, another movie would be great, just as soon as we get cleaned up." You chuckle and roll your eyes.

"I'm on it!" Bradley cheers as he comes and scoopes you up and carries you to the bathroom, peppering your face with sloppy kisses the whole way.

Later, when the two of you are cleaned up, cuddled back on the couch watching a movie and eating pizza, you can't help but smile.

Persephone may have tossed you out like trash, but Bradley—Bradley picked you up, dusted you off, and treats you like the treasure you are.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @sunlightmurdock @princess76179 @supernaturalvikingwhore @schoollover @cheyrenee @briseisgone @angelbabyange @callsign-minx @marvelouslyme96

#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster smut #tgm #top gun rooster

[asshlyyyy]

Since today is Halloween, here is one of my spooky-esk fics! I have a few other fics along with headcannons. I couldn’t get to any new Halloween fics this year ;-; but there will be Christmas ones!

Hayloft II (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Heavily based off of the song… Hayloft II… obviously. You could honestly listen to all three of the hayloft songs. The original, II, and then the smashup… I could see myself writing a second part that acts like a prologue… If you want to see that… Let me know.

I know this isn’t Just The Nurse, but I had so much fun writing this! I really hope you listen to the song while reading this. Without it… um… nothing will make sense. I had a lot of fun writing this, and this might be honestly really bad… but who knows. We’ll see. I hope you enjoy probably the most shortest thing you’ll read from me ever!

Italics are song lyrics and reader’s memories.

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Gun mention, Gun handling, Murder, Angst, Swearing, Sociopath Reader for a bit, Violence.

Word Count: 2.4k

Song: Hayloft II by Mother Mother

Whatever happened to the young, young lovers? One got shot and the other got lost in drugs and punks and blood on the street. Bla-blood on her knees, bloody history.

You breathed heavily and quickly. It was loud over the stereo as you pressed your foot against the pedal. You looked back in the review mirror seeing the dust that flew as you drove quickly away. The gun sat in the passenger seat, out in the open. Fresh blood dripped down your face. The scene you left behind… well… it could have you thrown behind bars.

You only knew one place to go… the only place that would understand what you had just done… he would understand… Elvis would understand. Your hands were shaking… your vision was slightly blurred. Your jaw hurt… your stomach hurt… you felt like you were going to throw up. You opened your mouth and let out a scream as you drove down the road. Tears fell down your face as around you the high-pitched voice bounced off every surface.

Graceland… it wasn’t that far from where you lived… where you were forced to live… You let out a hysterical laugh and shook your head. Your mind raced through thoughts as you inevitably cried through it all. 

Pulling towards the gates you grew more scared. There weren’t as many fans as there were during the day… but there were still quite a few. The security guard saw you and started to let you. When the gates opened enough you pushed through and pulled up to the front. You got out of the car and started to pound on the door. There was no pause in your knock… it was just loud repeatedly pounding.

Keep reading

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #austin butler fic #asshlyyyy writes #elvis fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austin!elvis #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Specific Chapter Warnings: Mentions of relationship trauma, mental abuse, grooming, use of the word "rape," manipulation

...........................................

Chapter 15: Would've, Could've, Should've

The first thing you notice as you stir from your slumber is how cold it is in your room. Even with the warmth of Bradley's torso pressing against your back and his strong arm wrapped around your waist, you still feel frozen.

You carefully extract yourself from his grasp and slide out of bed. Maybe a hot shower will make you feel better. You step into the en suite and slide back the door, and turn on the water. Within a few minutes, steam fills the room. You grab a couple of fluffy towels before stepping into the hot water.

You let it cascade over your skin, warming you down to your bones. You breathe in the steam and allow your body to relax. You've been tense ever since you woke up, and you can't put your finger on why.

A few minutes later, you heard the bathroom door open and felt a rush of cool air when the frosted glass of your shower slid open. Goosebumps covered your skin, but were quickly soothed away when you felt the strong arms of your husband wrapped around you.

"You left me alone." Bradley mumbled into your skin as he kissed the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

"Sorry. It was cold and wanted to take a hot shower. Didn't want to wake you." You reply, twisting in his arms and standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "I will never turn down a shower with you." Bradley says as he kisses you again, lifting you off the ground for just a moment. You squeal, and he puts you back down before reaching for your shampoo.

He pours out a generous amount before lathering it in your hair. He takes his time working his fingers through your strands and rinsing it away. When he finished with that, he grabs your fancy soap and carefully runs it over your body.

Bradley takes his time, kneading your skin and soothing the tension from your muscles. You sigh and lean back against him as his hands explore your skin while his lips trace kisses over your back and shoulders.

Once you're thoroughly relaxed, he turns off the water and steps out before you. He quickly dries himself off before grabbing another towel and wrapping in around you.

Bradley quickly picks you up and sets you on the counter between the sinks. He reaches behind you and grabs your favorite lotion. He scoops a good amount out of the jar and warms it between his palms before rubbing it down your shoulders and arms. He repeats the same action for your thighs and legs before standing up and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"What was all that for?" You ask him as you loop your arms around his neck to keep him in place. "Just wanted to take care of my girl." He shrugs before helping you off the counter. Both of you go back to the bedroom to get dressed in some comfy clothes. You have to go to the grocery store later, but right now, you just want to enjoy the morning with each other.

You leave the bedroom before Bradley does. On a mission to go to the kitchen and start some fresh coffee. As you make your way through your living room, a sense of dread falls over you. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You pause, ears perked up for the sound of a disturbance, but you hear nothing.

You let out a breath and shake your head. Your hand finds the wall, the kitchen is still shrouded in darkness, and you flick the light switch. Bright light fills the room. You turn back towards your kitchen island, and your heart drops.

You let out a blood curdling scream that echoes through your apartment.

Moments later, you can hear Bradley's heavy footsteps as he bounds through your home. "Angel—Angel. What's wrong?" Bradley asks as he searches your face. You're frozen in corner, tears staining your cheeks, and your shaking.

"I—it—" you stutter, unable to form words. Instead, you raise a hand and point towards the island. Bradley's eyes follow your arm, and that's when he sees them.

Sitting there on your counter was a fresh bunch of bright yellow narcissus flowers and a folded card.

Bradley goes to grab them, but you stop him. You pick up the small paper, and the words make your blood run cold. "Happy first day of spring. —P"

Your hands begin to tremble as you drop the paper and choke out a sob. "She was here." You choke out in a voice just above a whisper. Bradley comes to your side to steady you. Your knees are shaking and he is afraid you're going to collapse.

"She was here. She was in our kitchen. She was in our home!" You shout at Bradley. Your body is shaking so hard as you frantically try to draw in a breath. It feels like a elephant is sitting on your chest.

"Who? Who was here?" Bradley asks you. But he already knows. He just needs to hear you say it to be sure.

"Persephone. She was here. In our home, while we slept." You weep against Bradley's chest. He holds you close to him, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. Anger floods his system. How dare Persephone come back, after all these years, to try and hurt you again. Bradley knows he may be just a mortal man, but he would do anything to keep you safe from her.

You pull back from Bradley's chest as you try to take in some air, but no matter how hard you try, it's not enough. Black spots cloud your vision. The thought that your home, your sanctuary had be desecrated by her made you sick.

You pull out of Bradley's grasp and run to your bathroom. You heave over the toilet until your stomach is empty. Bradley comes in to hold your hair and rub soothing circles on your back.

"What can I do?" He asks you, feeling helpless in the situation.

"Take the flowers and get them out of here. Take them far away and throw them into the sea." You tell him as you lean against the counter. "I'll work on a protection charm for the home. In case she tries to come back." You tell him.

"Take Cerberus with you. You bear my mark, so she can't hurt you if she tried to attack you, but Persephone is afraid of dogs, too." You tell him.

Bradley nods his head and goes to get Cerberus and those offending flowers.

Once he is gone, you lock the door behind him. You quickly go into your kitchen and start tearing open cabinets and drawers, looking for all the herbs that you will need. While you knew some about charms and hexes, Hecate taught you more advanced ones.

You needed to protect your home

You needed to protect Bradley

You quickly gathered everything you needed and started assembling it on the counter. Hyrda hopped up on a stool beside you to watch you work.

Faster—you needed to work faster

Your hands were shaking with each movement. Knowing you had to be quick in case she came back. You were almost finished when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Hydra tensed up and hissed beside you.

You inhaled sharply as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You froze as the icy words filled your ears. "Hello,darling. Did you miss me?"

No—it can't be

The mortar and pestle that you were grinding herbs in falls from your hands and shatters against the floor. The sound echos through the room.

"Sorry darling, I didn't mean to frighten you." She says. You can hear the clack of the heels of her shoes tap against the tile of your floor.

"Well? Aren't you going to say hello?" She asks you. "You—you need to leave." You stutter out, trying to gather your strength. "What? You don't want me here? Hades, you wound me." You can hear the condescending tone in her voice.

Be strong

Don't let her see you falter

"I said you need to leave! Get out! You aren't welcome here!" You turn around and shout, facing her for the first time. You flare your nostrils as you take her in. "Careful now. Watch your temper. We wouldn't want a repeat of what happened, would we?" She taunts you.

She still knows what buttons to press

Persephone hasn't changed much since the last time you saw her. She still has her long auburn hair, deep green eyes, and sun-kissed skin. But you notice that her face, it isn't scared anymore. They're gone.

She's sitting at your breakfast nook, legs crossed, sizing you up. You notice she's brought a small pomegranate cake. It's sitting on your counter like some kind of piece offering, taunting you.

She stands up and crosses the kitchen towards you. You want to run—fight—something, but you're frozen.

Breathe

"Hades, don't be like that. I came here to make amends with you; to apologize." Persephone tells you in a sickly sweet voice. She reaches out her palm and cups your face. You jerk away from her. "Don't touch me!" You seethe. She holds her hands up in mock surrender.

Don't listen to her

She's lying

Little did you know, that small touch was all she needed to plant some pollen that she had created on you. Once it took affect, it would lower your inhibitions just enough for her to manipulate you into doing what she really needed you to do.

"I'm sorry for intruding like this. I've just missed you so much, darling, and I wanted to come see you. To talk to you. Please, can I have just a few moments of your time?" She almost begs you.

"You wouldn't have to miss me if you hadn't gotten me banished." You tell her gruffly.

"Hades, that was never my intention. I was trying to protect you!" Persephone tells you.

"Protect me? You called me a monster! A child! You said I scarred you on purpose because I was selfish! How is that protecting me?!" You scream at her.

Calm down

Control yourself

"Darling, you have to understand, I was afraid after what happened. You hurt me. I wasn't thinking straight. When Zeus summoned me and saw the scars, he made me say those things about you. I tried to argue with him and tell him I didn't want to be his wife, but he said he would kill you if I didn't say those things about you. He needed to make you the reason our union didn't happen because he didn't want to be seen as a failure." Persephone explains to you.

That—that does sound like Zeus

"After Zeus and the others banished you to the Underworld, I felt so awful for what I had said and done. It made me sick. I begged him to let me go and stay there with you. He agreed, but my mother told him that if he sent me there that she would cause a great famine. Zeus couldn't risk the wrath of Demeter. If there was no food, there would be no mortals. And if there were no mortals, who would worship him?" She continued.

What if she was telling the truth?

"If you were so sorry, why didn't you try to come to me sooner?" You ask her, you don't know why, but you can feel your guard slipping. "My mother used a charm to keep me bound to her side. It's taken me centuries to break it." Persephone tells you.

Maybe you had it wrong

"And your scars?" You question her. "I healed them with some herbs." She says. Persephone watched you closely. She can tell her pollen is starting to work.

"I'm beautiful again. And I'm here now. Ready for a fresh start." She smiles at you. "I always thought you were beautiful. Even with your scars." You tell her.

"Well, now I am even more so." She breaths out as she watches your eyes glass over. Perfect. Exactly what she needed.

"Hades, darling, why don't you come sit down, have some cake? It's made from the first pomegranate of the spring, just like I used to make for you." She gestures to the seat across from her.

What could it hurt?

Suddenly, your feet begin moving. It's like you don't have control over your own body. Then, a wide grin breaks out across your face as you sit down across from her. Hyrda is going crazy, swatting at your legs, trying to get your attention.

Persephone smiles at you. But it's not a smile. It's a wicked grin. You vaugly register that the twisted look on her face isn't a smile because you know what one should look like, and that's not it. But you ignore it in favor of picking up the fork that she handed you.

You always did love this cake

You cut into a cake, and sweet aroma fills your nostrils, bringing back the other times she has made it for you, and something doesn't feel right.

You're frozen again, mentally battling yourself. You scoop some of it up on your fork, but you don't bring it to your mouth. Something is telling you not to.

Persephone sees the hesitation in your eyes.

"C'mon darling, just take a bite. You'll love it. Don't you trust me?" She encourages you as she places a hand on your arm to sooth your worries.

"Don't you trust me?"

Her words echo in your brain over and over. Running through your memories and shining light on thoughts that were long hidden in the darkness. You had heard her speak them before. She had touched your hand just like this before. Two times to be exact.

Don't trust her

Suddenly, you feel like you've been struck by lightning as some of the missing pieces of your memory flash before your eyes.

You throw the fork down and push away from the table. Persephone gasps as she watches the haze vanish from your face.

"No." You speak deeply and forcefully.

"No? Hades, you're being ridiculous. I worked so hard on this for you. Please just take a bite." Persephone says, trying to push it towards you.

"No. I will not." You say again, standing up to you full height. "Darling. Eat. The. Cake." She punctuates each word. "You take a bite first, and then I will." You demand.

Persephone swallows thickly. She looks between you and the cake. She knows that her ruse is up. She inhales sharply. You watch her face contort from happy and sympathetic to one of anger and menace.

"Oh, Hades, it would have been so much easier for both of us if you had just eaten the cake." She sighs just before she lunges for you.

You don't have time to think, just react. You jump back and pull the Soul Sword from its home on your arm, aiming it directly for her.

Persephone freezes. The tip of your blade just a few inches from her throat. Hydra crouches at your feet, ready to attack her. Your chest heaves aa you tighten your grip.

"You lied to me. For years. I see that now. Everything time you gave me that cake, I lost part of my memory. It all makes sense now. You know, for centuries, I tried to defend you, us. I thought I knew what we were, but the more I think about it now, the less I know. So I want the truth. No more lies, Persephone." You grit out.

"You want the truth. Fine. I'll tell you the truth." She says as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I never wanted to marry Zeus. I never wanted to marry, period. But I especially didn't want to marry someone who would parade me around like a show pony. I needed a way to get out of it. I thought if I could trick someone into marrying me—someone who wasn't held in high regard—someone I could dump later, I would be able to get out of it." Persephone begins.

"I wasn't sure who I would use—who would be naïve enough to fall for my plan. That is, until you came along, darling. You were young and bright-eyed and eager to be accepted. But the other Gods looked down on you, treated you as a lesser being. So, when I saw your spirit was broken, I swooped in. I told you all the things you wanted to hear. I made you feel important, valued, loved. I moulded you into the minion that I needed you to be." She tells you in an unforgiving tone.

"You used me." You breathe out. Tears gathering in your eyes.

"Hades, it's your own fault—really. You made it too easy. You were so desperate for someone to show you the tiniest amount of attention. And when I did, you practically threw yourself at me. You bent over backward to keep my favor. You did this to yourself. I mean, did you really think someone like me could ever love someone like you?" Persephone laughs in your face as the first stray tear slides down your cheek.

You swallow thickly. "How could you? I loved you. I cared about you. I gave you my heart! And you trampled it beneath your foot!" You shout at her. Sadness thick in your voice.

"You were a means to an end for me. But I will say you weren't as bidable as I thought you would be. I knew that I would have to find a way to keep myself in the Underworld. I also knew that Zeus was extremely vain. So I worked out that if I could somehow disfigure myself just enough, I'd be in the clear. So, I had to get you to burn me." Persephone tells you. She shifts to the side, but you counter and hold your sword closer to her throat.

"However, you had a great mastery of your powers. So, I knew I wouldn't be able to have you accidentally do it. I knew I would have to weaken your mind—your will—just enough, so I made a pollen that would make you open to suggestion. Just like earlier." Persephone wiggles her fingers, and you think back to how after she'd touched you, your mind didn't feel like your own.

"But that still wasn't enough. So I researched and found out that if you crossed hemlock with pomegranate, it made a sort of neurotoxin. It inhibited decision-making as well as blocked memory forming synapses in the brain. Effectively, it made you a mindless cog and gave you temporary amnesia. A two for one, really!" She practically cheered.

"I knew I needed to test it before I wanted to put my plan into action. So I made you a cake with my creation. You ate it, and I thought it had worked. I was able to lead you to my bed and convince you to let me take your maiden-hood. But I didn't make it strong enough because you tried to fight back. I had to hold you down for you to finally submit to me." Persephone smirks.

"You took my maiden-hood against my will. You lied to me about it. You said the pain was normal. You—you raped me, Persephone." You choke out, appalled at her words.

"That's such a strong word. You came to my bed willingly." She tilts her head and clicks her tongue. "Because you poisoned me!" You scream at her, taking a step forward.

"I did what I needed to do. After I found out that my concoction worked, I waited until the first day of spring. I fed it to you again, and this time, you didn't fight me. I got you to burn me just so. Unfortunately, I may have given you too much because right after, you passed out. I had intended to go to Olympus and spin a story to Zeus about how you had accidentally burned me and that to punish you, I should have to stay in the Underworld so you could live with what you had done everyday. I didn't want him to kill you because I'm not a monster." She tries to reason with you.

"Zeus agreed, but my mother, well, she did not. The part about her threatening to cause a famine was true, and Zeus' need to be worshiped outweighed everything else. So, I told him what he wanted to hear. That you tried to steal me away from him and burned me to keep me for yourself. I called you a monster and a demon and a child because, well, you were. In the end, I got what I wanted and didn't have to marry him." Persephone smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"You did all of that because you didn't want to wed? You ruined my life! I was banished to the Underworld because of you! I lost my seat on Olympus because of you! I hated myself for centuries because of you!" You scream at her.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Because I'm not. I did what I had to do to survive. I mean, for God's sake, I was thirty-two, and you were nineteen. Were you really that ignorant to think what we had was real? Hades, my love for you was about as real as your marriage to that mortal is." Persephone throws her head back and laughs at you.

You feel your heart drop, and the last bit of sanity you have snap. Rage floods your body and consumes every ounce of your being. It was one thing to hear her say all of the terrible things she had done to you, but to compare herself to Bradley, that was the final straw.

You drop the Soul Sword down to its dagger form and charge at her. "You bitch!" You shout as your body collides with her and you pin her against your kitchen counter, with the silver blade of your dagger pressed to her neck.

.................

Bradley had been dutifully following your instructions. He and Cerberus had also stopped by the flower shop to get some poppies in hopes of cheering you up. They had just pulled into his parking place with he felt a pain in his chest, and Cerberus' ears perked up. Bradley knew nothing was wrong with him, and his mind immediately went to you.

He grabbed the flowers and Cerberus' lead, and the two of them took off towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. As soon as they reached your floor, Cerberus started barking, an angry protective bark, one Bradley had never heard before. Cerberus broke free of Bradley's grasp and charged down the hall to your door. Bradley sprinted behind him, fumbling for his keys.

The minute he got there, he heard you scream, and Cerberus was pawing at the door, shaking it on its hinges.

Bradley got the key in the lock and threw it open before following Cerberus inside.

Cerberus paused at the kitchen, growling on high alert. When Bradley rushed in, he was met with a concerning sight. You, had a women, who he knew had to be Persephone, pinned against the counter with your dagger pressed against her neck. Tears were streaming down your cheeks and angry Greek words left your mouth as she tried to push you off of her.

"Angel—Angel—Angel!" Bradley called out to you before you finally snapped your head to see he was there.

"Angel, what's going on?" Bradley asked you. He tried to take a step closer, but Hydra and Cerberus blocked his way.

"She used me, Bradley. She preyed on me. She groomed me and used me and threw me away like trash." You sobbed as you pressed the blade harder into Persephone's neck.

"She poisoned me and manipulated me to do what she wanted, and when it didn't work out, she lied about me and turned me into a monster!" You screamed through the tears.

Bradley freezes. He doesn't know what to do. But he does know that he can't let you kill Persephone. He won't let her turn you into something you're not. Bradley knows he needs to talk you down.

"Angel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. But killing her, that won't fix. It won't make it right. I know you're hurting, but her death won't undo what she did to you." Bradley tries to reason with you. He can only imagine how much pain you're in or what Persephone had said and done to you to bring you to this state of distress.

"She deserves it, though. She stole my girlhood. She stole my youth, my life, my freedom. She took it all from me!" You sob, and your hand begins to tremble.

"You're right. She does deserve it. But Angel, this isn't you. Don't be the person she tried to paint you out to be. You're so much better than that. Please, Angel. Put the dagger down." Bradley pleads with you.

He only knows what you've told him about Persephone and your past, and he knows that she doesn't deserve your mercy, but Bradley knows how much you would regret it if you did kill her.

You meet his eyes, the look down at Persephone, who is wide-eyed with fear. You squeeze your hand around the handle of your dagger and look back at Bradley before dropping it and sinking to the ground and sobbing.

Persephone pushes away from the counter and tries to run, but before she can, Hydra and Cerberus corner her.

Bradley wraps his arms around you to comfort you, shielding you from Persephone's view.

"Well, isn't this sweet. Enjoy it while it lasts, Hades. One day, he is going to get tired of you and throw you away just like I did. You aren't the kind of person that gets to be loved forever. You're just a pawn for us to use." She looks at Bradley and crinkles her nose. "You know I'm right." And with that comment, something snaps in Bradley.

He picks your dagger up from the floor and grabs Persephone by the arm and holds it in front of her face.

"Now I won't let you turn her into a monster. She's better than that. But I have no problem being one. I swore to protect this woman and love her until the end of my days, and I plan on doing just that. I don't care who the hell you are. Goddess, mortal, it doesn't matter. If I ever see you again or find out that you have come near my wife, I will send you to the Underworld myself. Now, get out of our home before I change my mind!" Bradley grits out before roughly shoving Persephone towards the door.

She doesn't protest. She knows that Bradley is serious. Persephone looks between Bradley and you before turning on her heels and vanishing.

Bradley turns back to you. Hydra and Cerberus have come to your side. Hydra is curled in your lap purring while Cerberus is sitting in front of you. You have your arms wrapped around his broad body and your face buried in his fur. It does little to muffle the sobs that pour out of you. Bradley kneels down on the floor and gently touches your shoulder. You flinch at his touch.

"Baby." He speaks to you softly. "It's okay. She's gone, and she's never going to hurt you again. Everything's okay now. I'm right here." He tries to calm you, but you can't stop the tears.

"Angel. Can you look at me? Please?" Bradley asks you as he rubs soothing circles on your back. You pull yourself away from Cerberus and Hydra and spin on the floor to look at him. Bradley's face softens as he takes in your red eyes and puffy cheeks. There is so much he wants to say to you, and at the same time, he isn't sure what to say. So he settles for propping himself up against the kitchen cabinets and opening his arms wide. "C'mere, Angel." He beckons you.

You wipe your eyes and nose on the sleeve of your sweatshirt before sliding closer to Bradley. He carefully pulls you onto his lap. You bury your face in his chest as one of his hands rubs your back while the other tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

The wail that you let out as you sob against him breaks Bradley's heart and brings tears to his own eyes. He so badly wants to ask you what Persephone said to you— what she did to you. But he doesn't want to pry, and if he did know, he's sure that he'd regret letting her go.

It hurts him to see you like this. Sad, angry, confused—broken.

Bradley wishes he could take your pain and put it on his heart so you wouldn't have to feel this way. He would be strong enough to take it.

He knows there isn't a lot he can do right now, so he stays there, content to hold you and sing to you and whisper words of love and affirmation on the kitchen floor until you're ready to get up. Until you're ready to talk to him. Even if it takes all day.

Bradley isn't sure how much time has passed, but eventually, your sobs turn into hiccuping whimpers. He looks down and you and pushes your hair back just enough to see that you've fallen asleep. Exhausted from the events that transpired.

Bradley pulls you closer to his chest and carefully lifts the two of you up from the floor. He cradles you against his body as he walks you to the bedroom. It's tricky, but he gets the covers pulled back enough to lay you down and tuck you in. You bury your face into his pillow as he quietly backs out of the room.

He finds his phone and calls Maverick, telling him that both of you need a few days, maybe the whole week off. Maverick can hear the concern in Bradley's voice and doesn't pry. He simply says okay and moves on.

Once he is off the phone, Bradley goes back into the kitchen to clean up the glass and mess that was left behind. He scowls at the cake that was left on the counter. He quickly grabs it and throws it in the bag along with everything else before taking it and tossing it into the dumpster behind your building.

Once he's back inside and has everything clean and wiped down, Bradley picks up the poppies he haphazardly tossed to the ground. He gathers them up and places them in a vase with some water.

After that's finished, he turns off the light and walks into the bedroom. You're curled up into a tight ball in the middle of the bed. Bradley peels back the covers and slides in beside you. You shutter in your sleep when he touches you. But even asleep, your brain knows that it's him and that you're safe now. Instinctively, you curl against his side.

Bradley doesn't sleep that night. Instead, he spends the night watching you, holding you, keeping you safe from anything or anyone that might be lurking.

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#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster

[asshlyyyy]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 14: Church

"Yes?" Bradley looks up at you to be sure. Afraid that maybe his ears are playing tricks on him.

"Yes, Bradley. I'll marry you." You assure him. He jumps up from the floor and kisses you. You lean forward and wrap your arms around him. You lose your balance, and both of you tumble to the title in a heap of giggles. Hyrda and Cerberus come to see what is going on, looking at the two of you more confused than anything.

"Wait! I haven't shown you the best part!" Bradley shoots up and darts back to your bedroom. He comes back moments later and reveals that he has already bought a matching band for your ring, and one for himself.

"You already bought bands? What if I had said no?" You ask him.

"I guess we'll never know." He replies with a smirk. "I know we can't have a real wedding, but I thought maybe we could go to Lookout Point, say some vows and exchange rings. If you wanted." He looks at you shyly.

"That would be nice, but, actually—I might have a better idea." You say to him. "What, Angel? I'm all ears." He tells you.

"I never thought I would get married, but even so, I always wanted a traditional wedding. In ancient Greece, weddings were a three day event, and technically, according to ancient customs, we are already married because we live together, but I'd like to have a semi-tradional ceremony. Could we do that?" You look at him sheepishly.

"Absolutely, just tell me what I need to do." Bradley smiles at you.

"Go put on something nice, and get the keys to my Cobra, and leave the rest to me." You tell Bradley. He nods his head and takes off to the bedroom.

Once he's dressed, you grab a scarf and blindfold him. His confused at first, but you assure him that it's in the name of tradition. He can't see you in your wedding attire beforehand. You sit him on the couch before returning to your closet. You go to the back and find the dark garment bag tucked away.

You unzip it and pull out a beautiful black lace dress with long, off the shoulder sleeves. You put it on along with sandals and simple makeup. You don't have a veil, so you find one of your driving scarves that match it the best. You tie it around your hair before going to the kitchen and grabbing a ceramic plate.

Once you have everything you need, you carefully lead Bradley, who is in a black suit with a crisp white shirt to your car.

He spends the entire drive, giddy, and talking to you about how happy he is and how excited he is that you're going to be his wife.

We you turn into Lookout Point, you're thankful that no one else is there. You quickly cast a cloaking charm so that it stays that way. Once you're parked, you help Bradley out of the car and walk with him towards the cliffs.

"Alright. We are here." You say to him. He unties the blind fold and his eyes light up when he sees you. A few tears spring forward, and his breath catches in his throat as he takes sight of you, his bride, his Angel.

"You look—wow." He tells you, unable to find the right words. "Thank you." You tell him with a teary smile.

"I know I told you that I wanted this to be as traditional as possible, and for that to happen, a high priest or priestess has to marry us, so I called in a favor." You tell him.

Moments later, Hecate and Minthe materialize before the two of you.

"Your Grace." Both of them curtsy to you. "Ladies." You acknowledge them warmly.

"My Lady, what a joyous day that it is. And I am honored that you called on me, but—but we are not at an alter of the Gods. Your marriage—it will—it will not be valid in their eyes." Hecate says with concern.

"I've spent too long caring what they think. I do not need them to tell me how to live my life. I love this man, and I intend to take him as a husband. Alter be damned." You tell Hecate. She smiles at you and nods her head.

She and Minthe both look to Bradley, who is beaming at you. "He is a fine man of pure heart." Minthe says. "Yes, yes he is." You affirm.

"Well, then, let us begin. Please join hands." Hecate says as you and Bradley turn to face each other.

Hecate recites marriage verses that have been used since ancient times. Bradley removes your makeshift veil from your hair. Symbolically saying that he takes you to be his forever. The two of you smash the plate you brought to ward off evil spirits and symbolize a new beginning.

Finally, Hecate turns to Minthe. She comes forward, holding a red box with gold stitching. Minthe carefully opens the box, revealing a small obsidian blade with a pearl handle neatly nestled in gold silk.

You could feel Bradley's hands tense in yours as Hecate took the object in her hand.

"Do you trust me?" You asked Bradley. He swallowed and nodded. "Good, give me your palm, and do what I do." You instructed him. Bradley nodded again and stretched out his left palm to face you.

You took the obsidian and made a small cut on his left wrist, not too deep, but enough that there would be a small scar. Drops of his scarlet blood rushed to the surface, and he winced slightly but didn't pull away from you.

You then dipped your fingers in the fresh blood and marked a crimson line from his forehead to the tip of his nose. "Your turn." You told him as you stretched your arm out to him.

Bradley took the blade from you and repeated the action.

Once he was done, you placed the cut he made on your wrist, directly over the one you made on him. "Now say what I say." You told him. He shook his head and before you spoke.

You looked him in the eye and held tightly to his arm before saying, "Eísai aíma apó to aíma mou, kókalo apó to kókkaló mou. Sou díno to sóma mou, na eímaste éna. Sou díno to pnévma mou méchri na teleiósei i zoí mas." Bradley, unsure of exactly what you said, still happily repeated the words after you.

Once you were finished, Hecate blessed your wedding bands before you and Bradley slipped them on. You had experienced many amazing things as a Goddess, but kissing Bradley—your husband, for the first time —was the most amazing of all.

"We are so happy for you, My Lady, and well, My Lord, now." Minthe said as you and Bradley broke apart.

"My Lord?" Bradley asked, highly confused.

"Yes!" You told him. "Minthe, did you bring the other thing I asked for?" You turned to her. "Of course." Minthe replied, producing an object covered with a black silk cloth.

"Perfect." You smiled. "Bradley, kneel." You told him. Still unsure what was happening, Bradley did as you asked and kneeled on the sand. You uncovered the object in Minthe's hands and smiled.

It was just as you imagined it, a crown, fit for a king, your king, your Bradley. It was forged from dark silver, moulded in a perfect circle with seven points around the diameter. Obsidian, rubies, and pearls adorned it, and sculpted into the silver were several beautiful poppies. You picked it up and turned toward Bradley.

"Bradley Alexander Bradshaw. Since I, Hades, Queen of the Underworld, and all its realms have taken you as a husband, and sealed our marriage with a blood oath, I can now bestow upon you a most prestigious honor. By the power of my hand, on this day, I crown you King of the Underworld and all its realms forevermore." You say to him before gingerly placing the crown atop his golden curls.

Bradley looks up at you and smiles. "You may rise, my King." You tell him as you help him to his feet. "Thank you, my Queen." He replies as he leans down to kiss you.

"Well, Your Graces, as much as we would love to say, we must return to the Underworld." Hecate says after a few moments. "I understand. Take these with you. We don't need them right now." You say to her as you had her the crown from your head and Bradley's. "Of course, we will keep them safe until the two of you can join us and wear them on your thrones." Hecate says as she accepts them. Then, just as quickly as Hecate and Minthe appeared, they vanished.

"So I'm King of the Underworld now?" Bradley chuckles. "Yes, but only a consort. I'm the regent. I make the laws. You just sit there and look pretty." You tell him with a smile. Bradley lets out a deep bellied laugh as he takes your hand, and both of you start walking to your car.

"So, I know I told you that I've been working on my Greek, but I didn't understand everything in our vows. Can you tell me what they were?" Bradley asks you.

"Of course." You smile at him. "They said, 'You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my body so that we two might be one. I give you my spirit until our lives are done."

"That's beautiful." Bradley breaths out. "And the wrist thing, and this?" Bradley asks as he traces his finger over the blood stain on your face. "In the ancient world, we sealed important promises with a blood oath. What promise is more important than marriage?" You say.

"You're so right, Baby. I can't believe you're mine forever now." Bradley blushes as he pulls you back to him and sweeps you off of your feet. "I was always yours forever, Bradley. I never believed in soulmates until now. But, I believe that we were supposed to find this—us. Even in a different life, you still would have been mine, and I would have been yours." You smile at him as he carries you to your car.

Bradley drives both of you home that evening. And that night, you make love to your husband until you're both too tired and breathless to move.

................

Sunday was a day to be lazy. You and Bradley had nowhere to go, and the only thing on your respective to-do lists was each other.

You wake up before Bradley does. Normally, you're an early riser, never one to be able to fall asleep and stay asleep. But with Bradley, you find more and more how easy it is for you to relax around him and let sleep come to you. More often than not, since you've been together, he's the one who is up before you, very true to his call sign. Though you have a sneaking suspension, his sleeping habits weren't what earned him the name.

You stretch your arms above you, wiggle your fingers and toes, and then turn onto your side. The soft sheets of your bed are loose around your bare skin from last night's activities.

The sun is just peaking through your curtains, casting a golden halo around Bradley. You look over at him. He's sound asleep on his back. Covers low on his hips. He has one hand tucked under the pillow behind him. He left hand is splayed out on his bare chest.

You trace the delicate gold band that live there now, grinning to yourself. You sigh as you admire your husband.

Husband. You husband.

What a beautiful thought. Just as beautiful as Bradley himself. He looks so calm as he sleeps, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. He lets out a small sore every now and then, which he would vehemently deny if you ever brought it up.

You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your hand over his. You smile again as you trace lazy shapes over his tanned skin. Your fingertips grazed over the toned planes of his abdominal muscles through the dusting of hair that covered his chest, permanently bleached from the sun, up to his pectorals and then to his collarbone.

You chuckle as you notice what is nestled right between his clavicles. "Oh, Bradley." You sigh as you trace your hands over the small golden cross that dangled from the chain he always wore. His father had one just like it, and Bradley wore it as a tribute to him.

You laugh to yourself as you push yourself up to place a good morning kiss on his lips. "Good morning, my husband." You breathe out as you kiss his lips, his nose, his forehead, and his cheeks.

"G'morning, my wife," Bradley rasps out, his voice still thick with sleep. He encircles you with his large arms and pulls you flush against him. Be pulls himself to a sitting position and props you up alongside him. "How did you sleep?" He asks you as you lay your head on his shoulder.

"Very well." You reply as you slip your arms around his torso.

You rest your head on his chest as Bradley just holds you there, enjoying the calm, the quiet—the peace that only he can bring. Your eyes are closed as you take a deep breath and inhale the scent of him. You're not sure how he does it, but your husband always smells like sunshine.

When you open your eyes, you are met once again with the sight of that golden cross resting on his tanned skin. You can't help it, but a laugh bubbles out of you. "What's so funny?" Bradley asks you as he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes

"Nothing." You snicker. "It's something. I can tell by that mischievous look in your eye." Bradley presses.

"Fine." You sigh. "I just think it's funny, you knowing what you know about me, that you still wear your cross necklace. Like I get, it's a tribute to your dad and all, but it's just funny." You try to explain to him. Bradley furrows his brows and looks down at you.

"Listen, I know you were probably raised to be a good Christian boy, and you were taught that if you prayed hard enough to God or Jesus or whomever, that you would go to Heaven, well, newsflash, that's not how it works." You say to him.

"What do you mean that's not how it works. Are we all damned to burn in the Underworld?" Bradley asks you.

"No, ugh, the Underworld isn't all flames and screams. It has two parts. Paradise and Purgatory. When you die, your good acts and bad acts are placed on a scale and weighed against each other. From there, I get to decide where you end up." You huff out.

"And all those prayers that people pray about where they want their soul to end up, they come to me. I hear them all—well—I did until I left the Underworld." You sigh.

"So you're telling me that you are the God I prayed to growing up? The one my mom asked to save my soul when I was a wild teenager?" Bradley asks you with a chuckle.

"I know you were expecting someone else, sorry to disappoint." You laugh at him as you sit up and swing your legs over him, the sheets falling loosely to your hips. You grab the thin chain of the gold cross around Bradley's neck, the object that had started the whole conversation, and wrap it around your fingertips.

"Oh, I'm not disappointed by any means." Bradley breathes out as he closes the distance and kisses you. "I just wish I could go back to Saint Greg's and tell my teachers they were wrong." You throw your head back in a breathy laugh. The irony of your husband attending Catholic School as a youth isn't lost on you. You move to kiss him again, but without warning. He flips you off of his lap and drops to the floor. He grabs your ankle and tugs you to the edge of the bed and parts your naked thighs.

"Bradley, what are you doing?" You ask him. You lean up on your elbows to see that your husband is kneeling before you.

"Growing up, I was taught that the best place to worship was on your knees. And, well, I haven't been on my best behavior lately, and it's been years since my last confession, so I came to the alter to repent." Bradley tells you as he leans closer, lips just centimeters from your core.

"Though, I'm not pretty sure this isn't what Father MacKenzie meant when he told me to recite my Hail Marys." Bradley smirks at you before flattening his tongue along your seam.

You throw your head back and gasp as he makes contact with your clit, the feeling sending shockwaves through your system.

Bradley pulls both of your legs over hus shoulders as he feasts on you. That may be a crude way of describing what he is doing, but you can't think of another word to describe it.

His hands find the swells of your ass and grips tightly. pulling you closer to his face as he drinks you in. His nose bumps over your clit with each stroke of his tongue deep into your core.

You grip his curls for dear life and tug at them sharply as suckles on your clit, earning a high pitched whine from you. "Oh Gods!" You cry out as he dines on your cunt like it's a five star meal.

It hurts you to think about the other lovers Bradley had before you, but you sincerely want to thank whichever of them taught him how to do this, because Bradley is particularly attentive when he goes down on you.

You cry out his name again as you feel the band winding tightly in your lower stomach. You're a sopping mess as Bradley licks long, purposeful strokes.

He loves the way you taste, sweet and tangy, like ambrosia on his tongue. From the first moment he tasted you, he knew he would never tire of it. Gluttony may be a sin, but Bradley would glady spend hours on his knees between your thighs if you would let him.

He knows that you're close. He can feel the way your thighs quiver around his head, desperate to close around him and keep his head in place, but he's holding you open.

Bradley takes his thumbs and parts your fold even further, granting him better access to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He takes it between his teeth and rolls it, and that's the final straw.

You cum hard on his face, and he laps up your arousal, drinking in everything you give him. He continues to assault your center, drawing out your high until you're grabbing him by his curls and pulling him away.

You sit up and meet his eyes, one hand still gripping his hair.

You look at him, cheeks flushed, ears tipped pink. His mustache is glistening in the sun, coated with a mixture of your release and his saliva. It's downright erotic the way he looks sitting there in his knees.

Without warning, you surge forward and kiss him, knocking him down to the hardwood floor of your bedroom. Your kiss with him is all teeth and tongue as the two of you grab at each other's flesh, aching to be as close as possible.

You hook your thighs over his, and you can feel just how hard Bradley is. His cock is press right against your ass, dying to be inside you.

"Angel—Angel—" Bradley murmurs against your lips as he pulls back slightly. He takes in the sight of you. Your lips are swollen and slick with spit. Your chest is heaving as you take in air. Your hair is wild, and there is absolutely desperate look of desire in your eyes.

"Bradley—I need you." You state. "Will you have me?" You plead with him. "Yes—yes I'll have you." Bradley assures you.

You waste no time rising up to your knees and gasping his firm length. You guide the head of him until it's perfectly lined up with your dripping center. You sink down on him with ease. You hiss at the stretch once you are full seated around him.

Bradley's hands quickly find your hips to help guide your movements. You start out slowly, barely rising up before dropping back down.

Once you're comfortable with your rhythm, you speed up, lifting almost all the way off of him each time and circling your hips as you do so. Your clit catches against Bradley's pubic bone with each connection, heightening your pleasure.

Bradley groans as he leans up, causing him to shift deeper inside of you.

"Fucking floor is killing my back." He says as he tightens his grip on your waist. "Oh, can you not keep up with me, old man?" You tease him. There is no malice behind your words. "Who are you calling old?" He teases right back. And he isn't wrong, but you still enjoy picking on him, even in moments like this.

You roll your eyes as he hits a particularly deep spot inside you, causing your his to stutter and your breathing to falter. "That's what I thought." Bradley smirks at you as he does the same movement again before leaving forward and taking a nipple in his mouth with a cocky grin.

You rolled your hips faster and pushed your chest against Bradley's warm, welcoming mouth. You sighed. Everything felt amazing, but you still needed more.

One of your hands anchored itself at the back of Bradley's neck. You could feel the cool metal of his golden chain between your fingers. You weren't sure why you were so fascinated by it, but you couldn't help yourself.

Your fingers twisted around it and and you pulled it taught against his throat. Bradley let out a gasp of surprise and pulled off your chest. You both froze. You quickly let go of the chain as you searched Bradley's eyes, afraid you'd gone too far. Neither of you had really discussed your thoughts about choking during sex. You worried that you'd crossed a boundary.

"I'm sorry—I—I don't know what came over me." You apologized as you waited for your husband to say something.

"Do it again." Bradley replied. "What?" You looked at him confused. "Do. It. Again." He punctuated each word with a snap of his hips as he grabbed your hand and returned it to its previous position.

You rolled against him before wrapping the golden metal around your fingers and pulling it again. Bradley growled as you tightened your grip.

"Oh, fuck baby, that's it." Bradley gasped out as the chain dug into his skin.

"You like it when I choke you? Yeah, you do. I can feel your cock trembling inside of me when I do." You moaned out. You let go of his necklace before bringing your hand to wrap around Bradley's throat.

Your thumb and forefinger settled over his airway before pushing him back to the floor with a thud.

You them swatted his hands away from your sides before stilling completely. A needy whine escaped his lips. You leaned down and placed your mouth close to his ear. "Tap my thighs twice if you want me to stop." You breathed out before sitting back up. Bradley nodded in understanding.

You smiled at him before tightening your hand and riding him.

You rode Bradley in earnest, keeping just the right amount of pressure on his throat to make it pleasurable, but also to let him know that you were in charge. He planted his feet on the ground and used that leverage to thrust up into you.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through your bedroom and mixed with the scent of sex that hung thick in the air.

You looked down at Bradley and admired just how fucking pretty he looked under you. "Oh, Love, you have no idea how good you look under me like this." You praised him before letting go and bracing both of your hands on his thighs as you continued to ride him.

While you were telling Bradley how good he looked, he was mesmerized by how ethereal you looked on top of him. He wishes he had a camera to capture how you look right now. Head thrown back, neck arched, and body flushed. You were every bit a Goddess in this moment, and Bradley felt so lucky to see you like this.

He loved watching you use his body, taking from him just as much as you were giving. You were close, and he could tell. One of your hands snaked its way to were the two of you were joined.

You drew tight circles around your neglected nub as Bradley continued to meet your thrusts. He couldn't help it, but his eyes were glued to the sight of you touching yourself.

He felt the beginnings of your second orgasm. Your walls fluttered around him before gripping onto him like a vice as the waves of pleasure cascaded over you with a cry of his name. Bradley only lasted a few more moments before his cum painted your walls white.

You collapsed on his chest. Hot, sweaty, and satisfied. Bradley would have loved to have stayed there with you all day, but he wasn't kidding about the floor killing his back.

After much protest, he got the two of you up and into the shower.

Both of you spent the rest of the day curled up on your couch with Hyrda and Cerberus.

"Angel, what are we going to do about work tomorrow?" Bradley asked you later that evening.

"What do you mean?" You asked him. "I mean, we can't show up with wedding bands. People will ask questions." Bradley explained. There was a beat of silence before you answered him.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. I've been forging paperwork for centuries. If anyone asked. We eloped over the weekend." You smile at him as you hold up your wedding rings to admire them. Bradley looks at them with you, but he notices something new, just peaking out from under yours.

"What's this?" He asks you as he takes your hand and slides the rings up to reveal a neatly tattooed "B" on your finger.

"Oh." You breathe out. "So, I only tattoo things that are important to me on my body. You're the most important thing to me, Bradley, so I wanted to have one for you." You say shyly.

Bradley sits there speechless with a few tears in his eyes. "When—when did you even have time to get this done?" He asks.

"I can't go to a tattoo shop and get them done. Mortal objects can pierce the skin of Gods. The blade we used at our wedding was a specially forged one. I give myself the tattoos. I just think about what I want and where I want it, and then touch that place and it appears." You tell him.

"Wow." He gasps. "It is pretty cool. Don't worry, I'll take them off." You assure him as you reach forward to touch the area again. But Bradley grabs your hand and stops you.

"Does it hurt?" He asks you. "No, it doesn't. See for yourself." You say as you touch his ribs. Bradley lifts up his shirt, and a neat spray of poppies is now etched on his ribcage.

"No, don't. I want to keep them. And can you—can you put an "H" on my ring finger too?" He asks you. You nod your head, and soon the black ink appears.

..............

On Monday, both you and Bradley head to Maverick's office first thing in the morning. You have your neatly forged wedding documents tucked away in a folder under your arm. Both of you are waiting when Maverick's comes down the hallway with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Oh no." Maverick groans when he sees the two of you.

"Whatever fuckery you have brought to me this morning, can it wait until after I've had my coffee?" Maverick asks the two of you. You and Bradley both shake your heads. "I was afraid not. Come in." Maverick sighs as he opens his door.

He takes a seat behind his desk. You and Bradley sit across from him. You open your mouth to speak, but he puts a hand up to silence you as he takes a long sip from his mug.

"Alright, Bradley, what did you do?" Maverick asks him. "Why do you assume that I did something?" Bradley defends himself. "Because I know you, Kid. I've known you your whole life. You've given me almost every single one of my grey hairs." Maverick says with a matter of fact tone.

"Actually, Captain Mitchell, we did something." You say.

Mav looks from you to Bradley several times before swallowing thickly. He inhales deeply before letting out a sharp breath and standing up.

"Bradley, I made your mother two promises before she died. Two! I failed at the first one, and now, if I have failed at the second one—I— Bradley Alexander Bradshaw, so help me, God! If you have gotten Commander Kolasi pregnant out of wedlock, your mother is going to come back and haunt me. I don't care if you are almost thirty-six. It was the only other thing she asked me!" Maverick rants before flopping back down into his chair and covering his face with his hands.

"Mav, I'm not pregnant." You tell him. "And even if I was, Carole Bradshaw wouldn't come back to haunt you." You tell him. "What do you mean?" Maverick asks as he slowly slides his hands down.

You and Bradley both hold your left hands up as the look on Maverick's face goes from one of horror to surprise.

"You two—you got married? When? Where?" He asks as he leans over his desk.

"Over the weekend. I had a couple of friends who were coming into town, and one of them is ordained. Bradley set everything up. He proposed to me over breakfast Saturday, and we got married at sunset. Here is all the paperwork you will need, as well as an official submission to change my name from Kolasi to Bradshaw." You slide the folder over to Maverick.

"It's that your mom's ring?" Maverick asks Bradley as he takes a look at your hand. "Yes, sir." Bradley nods his head.

Maverick smiles, obviously trying to fight back some tears.

"You did good, Kid. They'd be proud of you." Maverick says as he gets up to hug both of you.

The rest of the squad takes your news very well, and you and Bradley spend the first week of your new lives together as husband and wife in wedded bliss.

All was well in the house of Bradshaw. The two of you didn't seem to have a care in the world when you laid your heads down Friday night after celebrating at the Hard Deck.

What a shame that the two of you didn't realize that the stroke of midnight brought with it the first day of spring.

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#asshlyyyy recommends #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x reader

[asshlyyyy]

Okay, I am working on a lot of fics at the moment, very slowly… but I am still working on them. I wanted to jump on here and ask you guys what you wanted to read first.

You guys have a week to choose what you want. The closest one to being done is the Mutism fic. All of these have been started though, so it’s not like I would have to start a whole new fic.

#asshlyyyy upcoming works #asshlyyyy questions #asshlyyyy talks #elvis x reader #austin butler x reader

[asshlyyyy]

Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley

Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??

Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.

“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.

“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.

“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.

“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.

“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.

“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.

“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.

“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“

“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.

“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.

“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.

“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.

“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.

“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.

“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.

“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.

“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.

“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.

“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”

“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”

—

“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.

“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.

“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.

“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.

“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.

“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”

“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.

“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.

“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”

“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.

——

“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.

“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.

“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.

“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.

“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.

“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.

“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…

“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.

“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.

“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.

“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.

“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.

“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.

“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.

“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…

“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.

“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.

“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.

“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.

“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.

“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

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