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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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Would you ever consider writing out the Alley Boyfriends?

Tim's favorite brand of coffee since childhood- for one could not follow Batman and Robin around without losing some sleep- had always been the Heart Attack Coffee. It was known for its high levels of sugar and caffeine, with the added bonus of being cheap.

Heart Attack Coffee grew from a small family-run booth in Gotham's street market to five stores in Gotham, three in Bludhaven, and even one in Metropolis.

Their menu comprises about sixty percent of various coffees, but there are teas, fruit waters, and even pastries.

They rolled out signature drinks per season, and Tim was always the first one in line when the new menu was revealed. He preferred the winter ones- mainly because they were hot and always had a special kick to his coffee compared to the spring and summer that tended to lean more towards ice dreams like teas or fruit waters.

Tim adored Heart Attack with all his might. He collected their special cups, a book on all the different flavors he tried, and even cried for three hours straight after learning the Heart Attack team had made drinks inspired by the Bats.

He doesn't think he drank anything but the Red Robbin Rush for the three months the promotion ran. Yes, his heart was beating like a hummingbird in his chest the whole time, and he was a bit jitty, but it was worth it.

Then came the terrible day Bruce found out just how much caffeine was inside Heart Attack's coffee. Not enough to shut them down with health violations but enough to worry him.

He forbids the family from Heart Attack, suggesting another cafe that were safer. The thing is, Tim does not drink any other coffee. He tried of course, but unless he was the one that made it, the other coffee never came close!

That was Tim's coffee. His special coffee. He had one every day (that he was in town and not away on a mission) so much so the employees knew him by name and what time he usually showed up.

Sean, the morning cashier at the closest branch to WE, would have an experimental drink prepared for him. Sean would let him test out possible new flavors!

That's how valued he was as a customer.

Don't get him wrong, Tim tried to follow Bruce's mandatory boycott. But by the third day, his headache was killing him, and his hands were starting to get itchy.

Not only that. His whole day just felt off when he skipped out on his morning coffee or his after-work coffee. Tam had caught him re-organizing his office at least five times because his office just didn't feel right anymore. It wasn't balanced.

On the fourth day, he walked into a Heart Attack, and Sean smiled at him. He had a blond expresso Rush halfway made when Tim reached the counter. "Welcome back, Tim."

He placed a fifty in the tip jar grinning at the employee. He took his first sip of the golden nectar and felt his very soul breathe as it settled in his stomach. "Good to be back"

Tim figured that Bruce wouldn't notice because, frankly his adoptive dad wasn't the most observant when it came to Tim's habits. He got away with it for about a month.

Then came the faithful day Bruce reminded him why he was Bartman.

"I'm sorry, Tim, you've been placed on the Do not Serve Coffee list." Sean winces, showing the binder to the stunned CEO.

"I've been banned!?" He chokes, running his eyes over his own face in picture form. "What did I do!?"

"Not banned. You can still order caffeine-free teas or fruit waters." Sean reassures, but it means nothing. His apologies and his explanations mean nothing.

Sean-who he was half sure had been flirting with Tim for months- suddenly meant nothing.

Bruce has bought out Heart Attack was nearest WE in an effort to get Tim to cut back on his coffee intake. The man knew he did not like drinking any other brand, didn't function right without it, and still chose to pull this stunt.

Well, if he thought Tim wouldn't drive ten minutes to the next nearest Heart Attack, he was sorely mistaken. He got up twenty minutes early- and Tim loves to sleep okay. Just because he can't have too much of it with his busy life didn't mean he didn't adore sleep- and drove himself there to make sure he was on time for WE.

The employee gave him the same spiel, holding that dreaded binder. Bruce had also gotten to this branch. But Tim knew that while the branches could be bought out, the name was trademarked, so Bruce couldn't own them all!

He tried the Heart Attack that was thirty minutes away, showing up late to work due to him not planning the traffic for the morning rush, and still did not succeed in getting coffee.

. Then he tried the one that forty minutes, on the complete opposite side of his work, and that one failed too. By this point, a whole week had gone by since he last had a Heart Attack.

Not even on missions did he go this long. He usually bought those take-home packages when he knew the missions were going to be longer than three days at the most. They wouldn't even sell him that anymore!

The packages were just packs of Heart Attack instant coffee. It wasn't even the real deal!

He was feeling withdrawal; his headaches were getting worse, while his body felt slow with fatigue, and he was snapping at everything and everyone.

Just the other day, he yelled at Tam for sneezing. Sneezing.

Thankfully, she can give out as good as she gets. She reminded Tim why she was the one who tended to call all the shots around the office despite what others believed.

His skin was starting to burn, which didn't make sense since caffeine withdrawal did not include itchiness, but he couldn't stop scratching. Tim also hasn't slept in a while because his daily evening routines were all off now that he couldn't have Coco Connect!

He thinks he made all of his executives uneasy with his fidgeting and nasty scowl at the last meeting because he couldn't sit still when all he could think of was Heart Attack.

The last Heart Attack, the one right at the edge of the city, the one that was only a street away from Crime Alley and happened to be a forty-five-minute commute for both Wayne Manor and WE, was his last hope.

Out of all of the branches, this one was the least impressive. It was cramped with only three tables, the walls were painted a dark brown, and the light setting was all low.

It was nothing like the bright and spacious atmosphere of the other branches. It was even squished between two large buildings, the narrow doorway making it hard to even see. Tim was sure Bruce had not found this one yet.

When he pushed the door open, he jumped slightly at the chime from the bells on the door. His anxiety had been climbing to ridiculous levels, he needed his coffee.

At the counter, a boy who looked his age glanced up from his red bulky phone. He quickly slipped it into his pocket, giving Tim a friendly, if slightly bored smile. "Can I help you?"

Tim raced towards him, nearly tripping over his own feet. There was a slight note of deranged desperation in his voice as he responded. "Please, I just want a cup of coffee."

The boy nods, pressing a few buttons on his little cheap register. "What kind would you like?"

Tim's heart swelled with hope. "I want a large Blond Expresso Rush and a-"

The boy stops. He looks up slowly at the time, squinting his eyes as if trying to see into Tim's mind. Then, with a slow movement, he reached under the counter to withdraw a very familiar binder.

Tim's eyes burn with unshed tears as the stranger flips through the binder before stopping on a particular page. "I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-"

"NO!" Tim yells, causing the employee to jerk back. He knows he must look like a mess, with tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. This was his last chance. He can't make it to the branches in Bludhaven or Metropolis, not daily and certainly not without Bruce noticing. " THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!"

He places his face into his hands and wails. His body is shaking with his sobs, leaning against the counter because he lost all strength to himself up.

The employee stares at him with a strangely understanding expression. "Does this coffee mean that much to you? Is it.... an Obsession for you?"

Tim can only nod because words are hard to push through his cries. The teenager sighs, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward and whispering. "Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes, and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash."

Tim snaps his head up at once.

"How much? Five hundred, six hundred, or hell, even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want." He sobbed, knowing he looked sort of pathetic but beyond the point of caring about his dignity.

" Chill, dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine." The other says with a sort of uneasy smile.

"It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand, and Bruce bought them out to ensure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!"

The guy holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?"

Tim stumbles his way outside, reaching for his wallet. He has no cash, but he says an ATM is not too far down the street. He all but runs there and sprints back with a crispy twenties.

He stopped at a local flower store to ask if they would break it for him and was told he needed to buy something first. Not wanting to meet the coffee angel, he picks out a lovely bouquet of lavender roses.

He gets four dollars as his change and races back to the Alley behind Heart Attack. Just in time, too, because the back door opens and out strolls the cashier with a large travel container.

Tim throws the cash and flowers into his hands to rip off the lid and check the inside. It's a Blond Expersso Rush. Even just a sniff has something in him settling. He takes a sip, and all is right with the world for the first time in a while.

"That good?" The boy asks with a slight grin. Tim hums, smiling back as he takes another sip. "I'm glad. Want your flowers back?"

Huh? Oh yeah, he bought those. He shakes his head. "Keep them. Think of it as a thanks for doing this."

"Cool. Never had flowers as a tip before." He jokes, taking a sniff of the roses with a broader grin. "Name's Danny, by the way."

"Tim. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Tim tips his head back, letting the coffee burn down his throat. It's hot, but that hardly matters. Danny's mouth drops. "Dude, maybe wait for it to not be so hot?"

"I can't." He whines, downing the cup's contents, and only after it's all gone does he realize he forgot to savor it. He throws it over his shoulder in the direction of the trash can. "I don't know when I'll get a chance like this again."

"Don't worry about that. I'll make you more whenever you want. Here, have my number and text me when you're on your way so I can-"

Tim throws himself onto Danny. The other fumbles with the flowers, trying to hold them and Tim simultaneously, but Tim doesn't care. "You are the best person I have ever met! I think I love you!"

The other laughs, patting his hair. "I'm glad. You've been the first to give me flowers, so you're cool, too."

"When do you get off shift? I'll treat you to dinner."

"It's not a big deal, dude."

"I insist!"

"Well if you insist. I just finished, actually. Where do you have in mind?"

Tim leans back to smile at Danny, unaware of the two shadows that leap away from the still-embraced couple. They arrived sometime after Tim finished his cup, unaware he had drunk it since it was lying on the group near the other discarded cups in the trash.

They only saw Tim in the arms of a boy, holding flowers, which represented "Love at First Sight," and the way they heard Tim offer to buy him dinner.

"See B? Tim wasn't buying coffee. He was just meeting his crush!"

"Hmm. Based on what we saw, it's safe to say boyfriend. No one is comfortable with someone unless they have known them for a while."

"I think your right. I wonder when Tim will bring him over to meet the family?"

"Try not to push too much Nightwing. You know T values his privacy."

They both smile at each other knowingly, and even though Bruce suppresses it right away for his Batman persona they don't forget what they saw.

They pretend not to notice every time Tim disappears or that his GPS puts him back in that alley. They'll wait till he's ready to tell them. Besides, the barista seems good to him; Tim is far more energetic and bright these days.

A month goes by like this, where Tim is back to his normal self, no longer needing coffee to be happy. Bruce pats himself ion the back for his plan to help cut him off working so well.

Even though he seems to be texting constantly on his phone.

Neither Dick nor Bruce noticed the narrow eye stare of worry that Jason aimed at Tim whenever he slipped away to meet Danny. He has theories on what is inside those strange containers, but he hasn't gotten close enough to confirm his suspicions yet.

Jason prays he's wrong.

He waits until he knows Tim is gone (he is not. He likes to hide in the cave's shadows to overhear the latest family gossip) before turning to Bruce and Dick.

"Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention."

Predictably both men freak out.

"What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!" Dick wails, looking over all the pictures of Tim and Danny standing in an alley trading cash, flowers, and containers that Jason took.

"I also thought that was Tim's boyfriend, but if it's a drug dealer, we have to help him," Bruce grunts, eyes hard as he now sees Danny Fenton in a new, less favorable light.

And Tim, who is still hiding in the cave's shadows overhead, can only whisper a heartfelt "shit."

He rips out his phone to text Danny as the rest of the Bats below begin plotting. Thank goodness they don't know what Danny has been giving him exactly. Maybe they can steal Bruce's and Dick's ideas.

Meanwhile, Danny's tiny apartment across the city is starting to appear like a greenhouse with all the flowers Tim has been giving him. His small slip of loving flowers was all Tim needed to hear.

He's taken it as a personal challenge to always have some flowers for Danny as a thank-you for the coffee he made for him.

It was nice. It helped get rid of the boredom his life had developed. He looked forward to Tim's presence. He hadn't had this much fun or clicked as easily with someone since Sam or Tucker.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Danny grins as his phone dings and Tim's picture flashes on his screen.

If anyone asks you're my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny stares at the screen momentarily, before shrugging and texting back a confirmation. "Who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend."

He's never met any of Tim's family, but he doesn't think they will be too hard to fool.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alley Boyfrinds #Part 1?#Does the chat considered the first part?#misunderstandings #fake relationship #Danny was bored and this guy who looked to be on crack for coffee is funny #Tim was not aware of the flowers meaning. Neither is Danny #Everyone playing chess while Tim is trying to figure out thumb wrestling #Danny is not aware that Tim is a Wayne

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reiderwriter · 7 months

Text

The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet.

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body.

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once.

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-”

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you.

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long.

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words.

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?”

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-”

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.”

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right.

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step.

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care.

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one.

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed.

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion.

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you.

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day.

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his.

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out.

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home.

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now.

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust.

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys.

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk.

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance.

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock.

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.”

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away.

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember.

–X–

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead.

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time.

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day.

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them.

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions.

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?”

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it.

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway.

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.”

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women.

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it.

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…”

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue.

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession.

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed.

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.”

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued.

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them.

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around.

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.”

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you.

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued.

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her.

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out.

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in.

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word.

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-”

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?”

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve.

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added.

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly.

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?”

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them.

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.”

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.”

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things.

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess.

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen.

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly.

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came.

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left.

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.”

–X–

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning.

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?”

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.”

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.”

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly.

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said.

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time.

–X–

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him.

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions.

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider.

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies.

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed.

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin.

“I love you, please don’t cry.”

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.”

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again.

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body.

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again.

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another.

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time.

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again.

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes.

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied.

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively.

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly,

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question.

“Why did you run away the other day?”

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far.

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself.

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.”

“Y/N, please.”

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.”

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away.

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #maeve donovan #maturereiding

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kil-g · 9 months

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surprise

a/n: i got too sad after writing that last thing and needed to do something silly

summary: there's a new member of the household and you have to convince simon to like them.

g!n reader; civvy!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: simon being mean to a dog :(

---

“Hey, I’m…uh—I’m on my way home.”

“Oh!” You say.

There’s a certain exasperation to your voice that makes him think that you’re somewhere that isn’t the house. He puts his phone down in the cupholder and places both of his hands on the wheel of the car.

“In an hour.”

“An hour?”

“An hour.”

“Could you fuck off somewhere and maybe make it, like an hour and a half?”

“I’d like to go home.”

“I know, yes. I know. It’s just that I have this whole thing planned and I need an extra thirty minutes. You’d be doing me a pretty big solid if you fucked off for a little bit longer.”

“I’m tired and I’m hungry. I’m not gonna fuck off.”

“What, are we making this a race?”

“You can race. I’m going home.”

“Okay, we’re gonna race.” You say, halfway through laughter.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.” He says.

“Well, I love you and I need you to suck it up because it’s a pretty cool surprise.”

Simon blinks, keeping his eyes on the road. Then, he sighs and says, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Not if I see you first!” You reply, this time a little out of breath.

“I’m not racing you.”

“Scared you’re gonna lose?”

“Goodbye.”

“Love you!”

The line dies out.

Part of him wants to be annoyed. Surprises weren’t exactly his favorite thing in the world. He especially did not like such a surprise that would keep him from coming home after a very long month of trying not to die in a violent, fiery explosion. And, he deeply, desperately wanted to lie down in a bed with an actual mattress, real pillows, and clean blankets.

But, for the life of him, he could not think of anything more unbearable than the thought of letting you down.

It was almost laughable. Simon is first and foremost a soldier. And, when you’re a soldier first before anything else, like a friend, companion, romantic partner, let downs were par for the course. A birthday, an anniversary. Celebrating a promotion or any other achievement of the like. Those didn’t even come secondary or even tertiary on the line of things that needed to be cared about.

And, the worst part, is that you tolerated it. Sure, there was a certain disappointment to a missed call or text. Despite that, you loved him with a stability that he couldn’t possibly be more grateful for. It made him feel almost normal. Normalcy was a luxury someone like him couldn’t typically afford.

So, before he pulls his car into the driveway, Simon mentally prepares himself to be open-minded. Whatever the surprise was, he would do his best to actually try and enjoy it. That is until he unlocked the front door to the house and stepped in, only to be greeted with the sight of a dog sitting up, barking at him from within a metal crate.

She was clearly still a pup. Her paws are far too big for the size that she currently was. And, the more clear it is that Simon was no threat to her, the more she cries to be let out. Though, Simon makes no move to do any such thing. Instead, he sits on the couch and looks back at her until eventually, she stops making noise all together and resolves herself to sit quietly. Each time Simon accidentally catches her eye, her tail wags, bumping against the floor of her crate softly.

This goes on for about twenty more minutes before a key turns in the door knob once again. You step through, carrying bags of groceries.

“Sweetheart.”

“Can you help me with these?” You say.

Simon gets up, takes bags out of your hands and walks them into the kitchen. “Why is there a dog in the house?”

You lean down to lift the latch off of the door and the dog comes barreling out. “You couldn’t have opened her crate up for her? Why were you just staring at her like a weirdo? It’s a dog.”

“Why is there a dog in the house?”

“It’s our dog.” From one of the bags you were still holding, you pull out a bag of dog treats and throw it at Simon. “Give her one of these so she knows you’re not a complete hardass.”

“I’m not giving it anything.”

“Simon.”

He looks back at you. And, from the way you stare back at him, it becomes more and more clear that this dog is one of the very very few things that you simply won’t back down on.

In fact, there were toys all over the ground. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice them earlier. And, with an attentiveness that only slightly put him off, the dog fell into step beside you following you very closely while also looking up at you for any sign of praise or reward.

Simon inhales, then exhales. He grumbles under his breath, then rips the bag of treats open and kneels down with one of them in his hand. When the dog notices, she clumsily stumbles her way over to him and gratefully takes the treat from out of his fingers.

You appear at his side and kneel down next to him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Whose dog is this?”

“Ours.”

“I don’t want a dog.”

“You’ll learn to want a dog.” You say, jokingly. Your hands wrap around his arm and shake him gently.

“I’m serious.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly home very often. I think the decision is mine.” You say, firmly. “And, as sad as it is to admit, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t lonely, sometimes.”

He can feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He doubts that your intent is to guilt him–but if it is, it’s certainly working.

The dog nudges her wet nose into the palm of his hand. No doubt looking for more treats Her head is smaller than his hand. As gently as possible, he brushes his knuckles over her head.

“Does the dog… make you feel less lonely?”

“Yes. Most of the time.”

He rests his palm over her head now, brushing his thumb back and forth over the space between her eyes.

“What’s it’s name then?”

“Goose.”

“Stupid fucking name.” He says, softly.

“Fuck you.” You laugh. “You love it. Asshole.”

Goose walks in a circle in her spot, then sits with her back turned to him. She leans her weight against his knee.

“Not much of a guard dog.” He murmurs, and you reach a hand to scratch behind her ear. “Hardly did anything when I came in.”

“Because she’s a good girl.” You say.

He can feel her tail hit his foot at the sudden excitement at being praised for being anything. “If she’s gonna stay in this house, she’s gonna have to protect it.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Simon takes another treat out of the bag. Goose does absolutely nothing to hide her excitement. “And, how did this happen?”

“She got dumped outside of my work. No one wanted to take her so I took her.” You say. Simon looks at you and you look back at him. “No chip, no collar. She was wandering around our parking lot for hours, I think. Probably waiting for whoever dumped her. Vet said she can’t be any older than five months.”

“When was this?”

“About a month and a half ago.” You rub your thumb against his arm and press your mouth against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what do you think?”

Slowly, Goose sinks down closer to the ground and settles her chin over her far-too-big paws. She looks at Simon, blinking at him with big eyes before they slowly settle into a nap.

“I think that a dog is a perfect waste of space.”

“Okay, what do you really think?” You chuckle.

He sighs. A moment passes of complete silence. You’re hanging onto his arm, kneeling beside him as you both look down at this dog who can only get bigger and dirtier and stupider. This dog, who is also very soft and sweet. And, while (in his own opinion) he might be something of a monster, Simon couldn’t allow himself to be completely heartless. He couldn’t be the thing that takes away the bits of happiness that you can find for yourself.

“If it makes you happy, then I can hardly say no.”

You smile at him, give his arm a squeeze, and press another kiss on his cheek. You stand, “Do you wanna help me with dinner?”

“I’m gonna get cleaned up first.”

You hum in response but before you can fully turn away, he takes your hand and places a kiss on your cheek just below your eye, then another on your mouth. And in the moment that either of you are looking away from Goose, she gets up and begins chewing on his shoelaces.

“She likes you.”

“If I’m lucky it’ll pass.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say that it will.”

Another moment passes where it’s nearly completely silent, save for the sound of Goose’s mouth gnawing the little strings attached to Simon’s feet. Then, slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a squeeze.

Then, you pull away, picking up Goose with a labored groan. You walk her over to the back door, open it, and place her down at the threshold. She all but stumbles down the steps into the backyard.

“Well, go get cleaned up if you really wanna help me with dinner.”

Simon watches you empty out grocery bags, then sighs. You listen to his footsteps walk farther into the house. And, through the window, you watch Goose twist up and roll into a splotch of mud.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley reader insert #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost reader insert #mw2 x reader

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kirishima-eijirock · 4 months

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@katsuslover asked: Making katsuki jealous by talking w deku or something and he's all sulky and a baby and u show him why he's better

a/n: omg hell yessss I made it a little angsty but I hope he’s not too OOC

You narrow your eyes at the blonde sitting right in front of you. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a deep frown that you’ve never seen before. Clenched fists that are slightly shaking, he glares down at the floor with such an intensity that almost frightens you. Almost.

He’s been that way for the past half an hour, with no warnings at all. It’s weird, how this morning he wasn’t giving two fucks about anyone or anything at all, and now he’s just… furious isn’t even the word to describe it. Neither is rage. This is something else, and you knew it.

“Kats, just spit it out already.”

You’ve been trying to coax an explanation out of him for the past twenty-seven minutes, and yes, you’ve been counting. He’s never hid his anger from you. Or anyone, actually. But definitely not you.

“Kats, I swear to god, if you don’t start saying anything then I’ll go back to my conversation with Midoriya—”

“Get that bastard’s name out of your mouth.”

It was a quick mumble. A short demand. A command, if you will. He’s never said shit about Midoriya with such pure hatred that it did confuse you, and you started to question if you really understood Katsuki in the first place.

His brow furrowed and his teeth gritted, his glare shifts from the floor to your shoulder, avoiding your direct gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to glare at you, no. The last thing that he wanted to do was to direct his anger at you. You were one of the most precious people in his life, and he wasn’t gonna risk anything, much less even glaring, to fuck it up. But looking down and glaring at the floor looked utterly pathetic, too. So his eyes dart from the wall behind you, to your shoulder and neck, but never your face. You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t your fault, either.

He knew it’s not your fault, so why did it sting so much to hear you laughing with that bastard? He didn’t get it.

“Never mind. ‘M fine. It’s nothing.”

“Kats, you can’t be mad like that and not explain yourself.”

It’s true. He knew that he owed you an explanation, and a good one. Shame crept up on him as he realised that he snapped at you. That you were on the receiving end of his anger. The promise he made to himself— to never, ever make you upset, or to ever let you feel like the reason that he’s mad— was now broken in his eyes.

“I’m… sorry. For snapping at you. It’s not your fault,” he mumbled under his breath.

It wasn’t snapping, but he hated the fact that he still could have upset you.

“Kats, it’s okay. I’m fine, I promise. What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind, right?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled, though it’s clear that his snapping only made him more irritated with himself.

“It’s not nothing if you’re…” you trail off, not wanting to point out the current tears in his eyes.

“Huh? I’m what?” Still oblivious to the tears, he looked around and found nothing.

“Kats, seriously. Tell me, now.”

The firm gaze directed at him from your eyes made him freeze, and the gentle tone in your voice made him hesitate. He was surprised, to say the least, that you were still here, trying to help him while he stood there in front of you like an idiot. If you left now, he wouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, he understood why you would do that, and he couldn’t blame you. This emotional, vulnerable part of him finally showed for the first time in your relationship.

It surprised you, just a little. You knew he hated showing emotions besides happiness and the occasional happiness, but never tears. He never cried solely in front of you, at least.

He felt weak, so… pathetic.

And on the other hand, you were there, trying to help him and coax some coherent words out of him, before finally giving up with a sigh

“Kats, if you don’t wanna talk, then we can save that for another time. I won’t push you any further if you’re getting uncomfortable.”

He’s never felt comfort like this. Not warmth, or such gentleness either. It’s so new to him, but in the best ways that he couldn’t describe.

What was this feeling? His heart was bittersweet now. His loathing towards Midoriya was worsening, but the sweetness in your voice was making it fade away slowly.

“I promise I’m fine,” he rasped out.

“Okay, Kats. As long as you’re alright,” you murmured, not really pushing him to speak unless he really wanted to.

He took a deep breath, not sure how to address the issue.

“Look, I don’t know what to feel when you’re talking to that damn Deku,” he stated plainly.

“You don’t know what to feel? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not stopping you from having friends, okay? I just don’t like how giggly and shit you were with him,” he huffed.

“Well… why not?”

“It just bugs me, that’s all. Just feel like I should be the reason you’re laughing. Not him.”

Oh. It finally clicked in your mind. He was jealous. You wanted to point it out, but it could sour his mood further, so you decided against it for the time being.

“Well, if that was the case, you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

You were too sweet, too understanding. It was hard for him to believe that he deserved it. That he deserved you.

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Kats. You don’t need to worry that I’ll be upset, okay?”

He nodded slowly, still not used to this amount of sincerity and care from someone.

He was never this soft, or vulnerable to anyone. You, however, were an exception. He wasn’t afraid to show it to you, and even though he wasn’t used to it, he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

“Thanks…” a soft mumble of thanks left his lips, happy how this confrontation went.

@angelshimaa angst for you :)))

#kiri next and im gonna make two versions of this LMAO #bnha #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou

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ennabear · 2 months

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professor!abby hcs 😸

daily click | boycott tlou

as i’ve said before, if you have time to read this, you have time to help palestine in whatever ways are possible for you. do your daily click, sign a few petitions, boycott zionist companies, and donate if you can. there are so many amazing resources on tumblr, please please utilize them.

one thing about professor!abby is that she goes crazyyy when it comes to buying more books. her ideal date is strolling around a bookstore together, however, these dates always end with her buying a hundred dollars worth of books.

every single time you let that woman walk into a book store, it’s like you have to keep her on a leash. yes, abby, you can get that one. no, abby, we don’t have bookshelf room for a whole series. she’s unstoppable, she’s like a fat kid in a candy store. but she’s so adorable!!!

her goodreads account is insaneee!!! some of her students follow her, of course. she writes entire in depth reviews about EVERY book she reads. in fact, her favorite part about finishing a book is writing a goodreads review. and you best believe she updates her reading progress every night.

and she’s never not reading a book. she doesn’t prefer to carry a purse or a bag, but she’ll gladly put her book in your bag whenever you go out. she reads EVERYWHERE. at a dinner party? she’s reading. her best friend’s birthday party? she’s reading. at the gay club? reading. and she claims that it’s not rude because “everybody knows i read a lot. if anyone has a problem with it, maybe they’re just not a real friend!!”

she’s a little bit of a coffee freak. a surprising amount of her money goes to buying the most expensive and exotic coffee grounds she can get. there’s nothing she loves more than waking up to you making her coffee before work. sometimes, if she’s feeling extra emotional, she’ll hold your face in her hands and tell you how much she loves you while tearing up. what a big baby she is!!

our girl definitely has anxiety problems. if she ever has to leave the house without you, she’ll text you every 10 minutes asking for advice and reassurance. she trusts you so much, though. your advice is all she’s ever needed.

adding on to the last one, she’s a teeny bit insecure too. her past relationships absolutely wrecked her twenties and she never bothered to start dating again after that. sometimes she thinks she’s too old and unloveable for you, but she’s just being silly. she’s our little kitten princess and she deserves the whole entire world!!!!

on a more positive note, she loves the outdoors. sometimes she’ll wake you up before sun rises and force you to go hiking with her. no matter how much you complain, she knows you still like spending time with her, and the sunrise is always beautiful from her favorite spot.

i think before she became a college professor, she had to student-teach for 3 years, starting with first grade. imagine miss abby with baby muscles going over the spelling bee words with her littles, or playing tag with them at recess. miss abby was definitely their favorite, and a few of her students cried on her last day.

but i don’t think she’d want her own kids, just a dog is fine. it’s too much of a responsibility for her and she wants to dedicate all of her time and energy to you. but she does have a few nieces and nephews from her adopted sister, yara. and she’d be more than happy to babysit.

as much as she loves reading, she likes it more when you read to her. especially because most of the time, she’s exhausted from being awake and grading assignments for so long. so she likes to lay her head on your chest while you read to her, even if you have no idea what’s going on in the book.

watching movies with her is an absolute nightmare. if there was a book version, she’ll keep whispering “god… that’s not what happened in the book.” and then afterwards, she’ll explain everything they changed (aka did wrong) and why the book was so much better.

she definitely has a pair of reading glasses. i don’t think she uses them all the time but sometimes when she’s tired and just wants to read, she’ll use them because they make it easier for her to see the words through her sleepy eyes.

sometimes she so sleepy that she falls asleep while reading. it’s your job to take her book out of her hands and place her bookmark in it before it falls on the floor. on more than one occasion, she’s woken up at 2am to her book face down on the floor, no bookmark, with your head snuggled into her neck. it makes her a little bit grumpy because now, poor poor sleepy abigail has to decide between searching through all of the pages to find the one she was reading last, or taking her girl to bed and tucking her in. such a tough decision!!!

#professor!abby my beloved #aka me on my knees for older women #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #lesbian

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cutielights · 2 months

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Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

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gretagerwigsmuse · 3 months

Text

rocketman: part ii - from the back of the cab

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw finally returns stateside for just about the best damn homecoming he's ever had. it's been three months of countless emails and facetime calls between the two of you, but what awaits you both now that bradley's back? and what does it mean for your relationship going forward? [read part i here]

OR a homecoming 159 emails in the making

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 10k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, and suggestive content. a lot of the italic words are direct references to the emails in part i or direct quotes from the rocket man by ray bradbury (read at your own risk because if you picture bradley as the rocket man, you'll cry). the next part will pick up right where this one leaves off and hopefully won't take too long to get out!

from the back of the cab to the airport // i am happy you and i got this hour

Having multiple people, let alone multiple people who loved him more than anything in the world, waiting for him when he got home from a deployment, no matter how brief or long, was definitely a newer experience for Bradley. There was almost a giddiness about him as he said his goodbyes to Bob and Payback and the other pilots he’d flown with from Lemoore. He couldn’t wait to see you in twenty seconds after it’d felt like he’d been gone for twenty years.

The countless (actually one-hundred and fifty-nine - he’d counted) emails between the two of you had been his saving grace these last three months. You’d emailed him almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day, much to the jealousy of his colleagues. He’d become addicted to them almost.

How did your cooking class go? What was your day like at work? Yes, he would love to go on a trip to Mexico. No, your mom is an absolute idiot. How did you touch yourself at night? Were you being a good girl for him?

And in twenty seconds he’d have the real thing. He’d have you in his arms, hugging him, kissing him, talking a mile a minute about any and everything under the sun.

(He knew Maverick would be there, too. He wasn’t being flippant about it or anything - all Bradley had wanted for the last thirteen years was for Maverick to be there when he got home. Last year, when he’d gotten back from three months out near Guam, he’d unabashedly cried from behind his sunglasses when he saw Maverick, Penny, and Amelia waiting for him. Amelia had even made a sign for him with terrible puns and lots of glitter. They’d had Bradley over for dinner - a family dinner - and he had felt on top of the world. Until he’d had to go back to his brand-new, empty house. Bitter with the sweet, he supposed.)

Off to his right, Bradley could see Bob and Callie hugging, and Reuben fussing over his wife’s noticeable baby bump. He smiled at the sight and the thought that he wouldn’t want to leave you while you were pregnant briefly floated through his mind.

And then, like he had conjured you up, there you were. You hadn’t seen him yet. But Bradley could see you as you craned your neck and stretched on your tiptoes, bobbing and weaving and stretching to try and find him in the crush.

He'd known you were taking a half day to pick him up and you looked so soft and lovely in your off-duty clothes - a simple pair of cropped jeans and a pale blue oxford that he'd later realize was his. Pale blue in a sea of khaki with your sunglasses perched on the top of your head as the sun still beamed strongly onto the asphalt.

Like something out of a movie, you turned your head and locked eyes with him. The two of you couldn't have been more than thirty feet apart and it was like everyone and everything around you had stopped - just for a moment. A blip in time. And then a smile crept across your face and your eyes lit up and the world started again.

“Bradley!”

With nary a glance back at Maverick, who Bradley had just realized was standing next to you, you ran towards Bradley and into his arms with so much force that he staggered backwards. His seabag made a solid thud on the ground as he wrapped his arms around you - one around your waist and another around the back of your neck. You burrowed your face in his neck and he couldn't resist holding you tighter, lifting you slightly so that the tips of your shoes kissed the asphalt.

This - this is what he had been missing for the last three months. Home. Home. Home. Bradley was home. With you. And holding you.

"Hey, kid." You tightened your hold on him at the moniker. "You miss me?"

“More than anything.” Not even a second after he put you down, your hands were running across his cheeks and neck. "Are you alright? Do you need anything? I have snacks in the car if you're hungry or -"

He cut you off with a kiss, your first kiss in three months. Thirteen weeks. Ninety-one days. Two thousand one hundred ninety-one hours.

Bradley knew he would have a lot more of these homecomings - had even had some with you already. But he would never forget this one - his favorite homecoming. Two weeks, ten days, three days; it was nothing. Nothing compared to being in your arms again after three months apart. Nothing compared to kissing you again after three months.

There was so much genuine love and longing in you - in him - that Bradley already dreaded when he’d leave you again. Because there would always be another time.

At least until he broke the cycle.

(Don’t ever be a rocket man. Promise me you won’t be like me.)

But for now you were safe in his arms, feeling and smelling and sounding like home and god - for now that was enough.

Your voice was similarly muffled. “Oh, bubs. I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re finally home.”

“And I can’t believe you’re in front of me right now.”

He wanted to touch you everywhere. Your cheeks, your hair, your shoulders, your legs, your breasts. Everywhere. There was no way he could ever get enough of you.

You tilted your head up and smiled at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Let’s go home.” The smile that lit up your face could guide Bradley home on even his darkest days.

Before setting off, he gave you another kiss, this one just as sweet, and the two of you started making your way to the gate and by the other families milling around. It was a bit awkward balancing his arm around your shoulder with his seabag, but it was all worth it to have you tucked into his side again. You were so soft and warm and smelled so pretty. He couldn’t get over it. Everything about you felt safe and precious.

“I can’t wait for you to see the house! I have almost everything situated, just a couple seasonal clothes and coats at my old place. I thought maybe we could go after work on Tuesday - unless you’re in a debrief or something or have other plans?”

Bradley squeezed you closer to his side. “Nah, I should be done by Monday afternoon, so Tuesday’s perfect.”

You nuzzled your face against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re home.” And then softer still, “I’m gonna keep saying it because it still doesn’t feel real.”

“Well,” Bradley steered you both away from the crush, “I’ll try my hardest to make it feel real for you later.”

And, God, it went straight to his cock, the way you peered up at him, eyes slightly widened. You even bit your lip, cheeky thing. His seabag slipped from his grasp and he wound both arms around your waist pulling you close to him again. All he wanted to do was play out one of those cheeky little emails of ours in excruciating detail. With his girl.

His wonderful girl. His sweet girl. His smart girl. His, his, his, his -

It was definitely verging on improper, the way he was kissing you now. But Bradley didn’t care. Not when you felt and smelled and tasted so fucking good -

“- Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!”

You whined against Bradley’s lips when he pulled away. It felt like he’d just gotten caught necking his girlfriend behind the bleachers by his father - and well…

Bradley cleared his throat and hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. “Captain Mitchell…”

They exchanged salutes, Maverick’s face all serious until Bradley could see him fighting a smile. There was a beat and then Bradley wrapped his arms around Mav in a tight hug.

“Good to see you, kiddo.”

“You too, Mav.”

He let Bradley go to look him over much like you had. It warmed his heart to be fussed over by his dad. To have the two most important people in his life be there to pick him up and bring him home.

“Come on you two, ice cream? My treat?”

You gasped. “Now Captain Mitchell, you wouldn’t be suggesting we spoil Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s dinner with ice cream, would you?”

Bradley hadn’t had ice cream in weeks. And a vanilla soft serve with chocolate jimmies sounded like absolute heaven right now. But as much as he wanted to have ice cream with you and Maverick like he was celebrating a little league baseball win, Bradley wanted to go home with you even more. He would see Mav during the week while you were at the office.

Right now, he just wanted to go home with his girl.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna head home. But I’ll take a raincheck for Monday?”

Mav nodded. “Sounds good to me, I’ll bring the car round then?”

“Sounds good, thanks!” you chirped.

Wait, what? Before Bradley could even question him, Maverick was off towards the parking lot - leaving you in his direct line of fire.

Which, to be fair, you did look contrite. “Pete thought it would be easier if he drove, especially with all the people around…”

And was Bradley really going to be mad at Maverick for caring too much? For wanting to spend time with his kid after he got home from a three month deployment? No. Not even at the expense of a twenty minute car ride home alone with you.

“I should’ve told you earlier he was driving, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You both started making your way to the gate again. “Probably gave him an excuse to take the rest of the afternoon off, too.”

You giggled. “I asked if he wanted to get lunch beforehand, but he said he was wrapping something up.”

Bradley’s stride momentarily faltered. Right, he forgot about that - your little lunch dates with Maverick. Was it a little annoying and did it make him irrationally jealous? Sure. But it was also oddly sweet. There were a lot worse things than having your girlfriend genuinely like hanging out with your dad. Plus, Bradley’s didn’t think you really knew you had a crush on him.

“I’m sure you two had plenty of time to catch up while I was gone, but now you’re all mine, kid.”

You wrapped your hands around his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. With a few nods at his fellow aviators and other assorted crew members, you two made it through the gate and to the parking lot where Maverick was waiting in his 1962 Ferrari 250 GTE.

Otherwise known both as the smallest car in the world and Bradley’s inheritance.

The car was in really good shape and drove like a dream. But it was very much not designed for a 6’1” naval aviator - especially when one was relegated to the back seat. Because Bradley didn’t want you to be in the back seat alone and you had refused to sit in the front.

So, now his knees were up to his shoulders and you two were separated by an armrest because the damn Italians hated fun and had foregone a bench seat.

Though this did not stop you from laying a cheeky hand on his knee, inching it higher and higher up his thigh as you crossed the Coronado Bridge. You glanced over at Bradley and winked, stopping yourself from getting higher by holding his hand instead.

It was never a long drive back to his - your house, but today it seemed to fly by ever faster. Maverick was unusually chatty in the front seat, asking about your upcoming trip and if you needed a ride to the airport on Thursday morning, while also telling Bradley about the newly renovated ready room on base.

The chatter petered off into the background as Bradley suddenly zeroed in on the song playing on the radio - Everlasting Love. He found himself mouthing the lyrics.

Need you by my side, girl you’ll be my bride

You’ll never be denied everlasting love

That was you. That was you and him. Everlasting love.

He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. And while you and Maverick chatted and told Bradley some of the more lighter happenings of the last three months - mainly the raccoon garage saga - he was counting down the minutes till it was just you and him. Peace and quiet with his everlasting love.

Which was really everything he could ever want.

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

After a long shower with all his favorite products and even some new ones you had brought over, Bradley made his way downstairs and was greeted with the unfairly adorable sight of you chopping potatoes at the kitchen island. There was music playing, candles lit, and the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. He smiled, seeing you wearing the apron he’d picked out for you all those months ago and was relieved to see that it looked broken in from wear. Because, to be honest, it was nearly impossible to pick out clothes for you.

Originally, Bradley had wanted to get you some frilly old thing, dainty and cute and proper if only to feed some long repressed kink of his. But the denim apron was practical and you would get use out of it for plenty more years to come.

And he could always get you another one for special occasions. Because he had had a lot of time to think about all those special occasions with you while he was away…

A beautiful smile lit up your face as you saw him pad down the stairs. “My, my, don't you look cozy?”

Once his socked-feet were firmly on the hardwood floor, Bradley spun on his heels showing off his comfy joggers and plain, grey t-shirt. “Do I pass muster?” He pressed a kiss to the cheek you tilted up for him.

“I’ll think you’ll do, bubs.” He pulled you in for a hug from behind. “Mmmmm, you smell so good.”

He swayed you back and forth in his arms. “I should, I used all your shampoo…”

“Cheeky boy.” You craned your neck and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You want a drink while I make dinner? You can lay on the couch for a bit if you want? You must be exhausted.”

“Oh?” He hadn’t even considered going into the living room, not when you were in the kitchen. “Uhhh, sure, yeah. I’ll take a drink.”

You smiled and pulled back from him. “Old fashioned?” He nodded. You got out a rocks glass from the cabinet and went over to the bar cart in the dining room for the whiskey and bitters. “I got those fancy bitters at that liquor store you like.”

“Did you take care of everything?” He said it to hide his own reddened cheeks, but you appeared equally as bashful.

“Tried too.”

“You gonna have one, too?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but we’re also having wine with dinner, so just one for now - here you go. Got to start you off slow, Bradshaw.” You slid the glass over to him and held your own out to toast. “To your long awaited homecoming.”

Your eyes locked over the rim of your glasses and you had both barely set them back down on the table before Bradley pressed a kiss to your lips. You tasted like sugar and whiskey and felt like home.

“Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you, too, rocketman. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re home.” You kissed him again. “Now, you gotta let me finish cooking. The table’s already set, so there’s nothing for you to do, but relax.”

“Fine, fine,” he heaved out a great sigh, “banishing me already and I’ve only been home for a few hours, I see how it is - owww!” You smacked his ass with a dishtowel. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

The living room looked nearly identical to how it had when Bradley had left in December - minus the Christmas tree, of course - but there were still little touches of you everywhere. The pillows were arranged far nicer than Bradley had ever been able to manage and there were three new candles of differing heights on the coffee table. Plus, the cream colored cashmere blanket from your apartment that he always stole was artfully strewn across the back of one of the leather sofas.

With one glance back towards you in the kitchen - you were completely focused on some Russet potatoes - Bradley flopped onto the couch and tucked himself under the blanket. It was warm and cozy and so comfortable under there in his couch clothes in the house you two shared. Quiet, too, even with some Van Morrison playing from the kitchen. It was the kind of quiet that could lull Bradley to a peaceful sleep, especially after having been ensconced in constant noise for the last three months.

And he tried for half an hour - he really did. He thought of how excited you were to show him the perfectly organized closet and how you’d put all the little bits and bobs you’d gotten for him over the last three months in the guest room for him to look over at his leisure and how he’d corrected you on where the mail should go.

It was just - it was too quiet and too perfect and too comfy and he just wanted to be with you. Even if it meant sitting on one of the uncomfortable kitchen barstools.

You shook your head, but smiled as he approached. “You don’t have to watch me, you must be exhausted?”

Bradley shrugged. “Just wanna be near you, kid.” Were you nervous about cooking? Was that why you didn’t want him in the kitchen with you? He backtracked. “If that’s alright?”

You bit your lip and gestured for Bradley to sit at the island in front of you. There were a couple mise en place bowls laying around, but you quickly made room for Bradley and his drink.

“It’s like a taping of the Barefoot Contessa.”

You chuckled. “Let’s just hope the food’s as good as Ina’s.”

“Walk me through it.”

With a teasing smile on your face, you went back to mincing the garlic - with a glowing comment from Bradley on your newly acquired knife skills - and he just sat there, chin propped up on his hand watching you explain the next couple steps. You even got a yes, chef out of him when you asked him to turn the music down. The roasted potatoes smelled absolutely divine cooking in the oven and you had just finished snipping the ends off the asparagus when your demeanor suddenly changed. You fiddled with your apron tie and abruptly turned around to face him, looking almost surprised by the action, though you wouldn’t exactly look him in the eye.

“Actually, now that you’re here - or here at the table,” you huffed out a laugh, “there’s something I want to talk to you about that happened while you were gone - no, that’s not - something I was thinking about while you were gone?”

You put the burner down on the sauce pan, leaving the minced garlic to simmer before you were facing Bradley yet again. You looked nervous, unsure of yourself, as you played with the bracelet he had gotten you for Christmas. Had something happened while he was gone that you hadn’t told him about? Were you sick? Hurt? Was there someone - no, no, you’d never.

Bradley leaned back in his chair and hoped he sounded surer than he felt. “Sure, uhh, yeah, go ahead.”

“It actually has to do with some emails I sent you - last week, in particular. One of them is actually that email.” You looked down at the granite countertop as Bradley tried to think of which email would constitute italics. “But I also want to talk about one of the other emails, when I messaged you about that dream I had and kind of how that all falls into everything that we’ve been going through and probably will be going through -”

“- Because this is it,” he interrupted. Because you and I are it.

“Yeah. Because this is it,” you returned, equally as resolute. “So…”

Bradley sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat. “Which one do you want to talk about first?”

You fiddled with your apron bow. “Maybe the one from the thirteenth?”

“Which one was that?”

Now you definitely were avoiding looking at him. Your words came out slowly, like you dreaded saying them and Bradley had a sudden inkling that he knew exactly which email you were referencing.

“The one about me needing you. Needing you to take care of me,” you whispered the last part.

He could feel his cheeks coloring. “Oh. Right, yeah.”

Bradley had never received an email like that before. Had never even received a text like that before. It was just so raw and almost animalistic the way your need for him jumped off the page.

nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do. need you to call me good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl, anything as long as it’s yours.

“I shouldn’t have sent that one to you - especially since if I could’ve waited five more days, none of this would’ve happened. It’s just - I needed you so badly and wanted you - ugh, no! No, I shouldn’t have sent you that email. It wasn’t proper, it was embarrassing for you and me and I was just missing you so much and in such a different way that I’ve never experienced before when you’d been gone and - I couldn’t bear not telling you for another moment. Because no one was there to tell me what to do or -”

You threw your hands out and put them on the top of your head. God, it looked like you were about to cry. And it broke Bradley’s heart. He pushed his barstool back from the island and padded over towards you.

“Come ‘ere, kid.”

You let out a sigh and your eyes were swimming with tears as you fell into Bradley’s arms. You felt small in his arms - not necessarily in the physical sense, but like you were folding in on yourself. He needed to take care of you - take you, take you, take you -

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, whenever you want, it’s fine.” Bradley pressed a kiss to your forehead and squeezed you tighter. You held on to him tightly, which muffled your next words.

“I’ve never had someone who I need in that way. And it’s not even necessarily about the sex, itself. I could go months without having sex - had before I met you. It was never something I really needed to get by, I guess? I could take care of it on my own.

“But then - then I met you and you just? You make me need you - make me crave you, you tell me what to do, make me want to please you. And then you just leave for three months and I have to learn how to do all that on my own and it was just so hard? It felt like I dropped? Like everything caught up to me after all those months and weeks and I felt scared and lonely and needy and desperate for you and for you to tell me I’m a good girl and take care of me and be my d - be dominant with me.”

Your breathing quickened as you talked and Bradley felt you getting more worked up. He rubbed his hands across your back, hoping it would soothe the ache inside of you, if only a little bit. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, kid.”

i need you i need you i need you i need you bradley bradley bradley bradley

You sniffled. “I guess I just didn’t think - I mean, I knew other people would see it - and I did think that was kind of hot, especially when you called me out for it - it was only after, when I’d realized what I’d done that I saw how embarrassing it was for you.

“Like Joe from Comms being like hey, did you know Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s girlfriend is a horny, pathetic, subby mess for him? You gotta see it, man. She couldn’t even make it three months without getting fucked. He can’t even take care of his g -”

“- Stop it.” Bradley grabbed your chin. “You know that’s not true.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But I was already feeling shitty about my mom and being so busy at work and how I loo -” you broke off and Bradley desperately wanted you to finish the thought. “I guess it all caught up to me.”

“But I wrote back. I wrote back and told you everything I wanted you to hear and what you needed to hear. And god, I’d do it again, I’d do it in a heartbeat if it brought you comfort and I probably should’ve done it sooner.”

nothing stretches me out like you do, nothing makes me feel as small as you do, nothing makes me flush like the sound of your voice against my neck as i come, nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do

You squeezed your arms around his stomach and breathed him in. God, he loved you so much, he’d say anything and do anything to make you realize that.

“I needed it, what you wrote me, and I needed to tell you what I said, but I should’ve waited so, I’m sorry, can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, kid. You message me when you need me, no matter how.” He kissed your temple. “I know we’ve never really talked about how that part of our relationship would work while I was gone, so maybe next time we just make a plan?��

You nodded. “I’d like that. I know it’s not like that all the time between us, so I didn’t even think of it before you left.”

“I hadn’t either,” he confessed.

Long distance d/s relationship reddit would be Bradley’s best friend over the next few days. Neither of you would have to go through that again, not if he had something to say about it. The whole idea of not being allowed to use anything besides your fingers to masturbate was a good start, but it was just that - a start. Because like you’d said, you two weren’t in that dynamic all the time, but you both needed it. It was new for both of you. You’d just have to come up with a list together.

But just to give you a little encouragement in the meantime…

“And let’s not forget…” You peered up at him. “You did tell me you read my email seven times…”

You giggled and shoved his shoulder. “Might’ve been an understatement.”

“Oh?”

“I think I came three times that first night alone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhm.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the ends of his hair. “‘Kept picturing you in your bunk writing it while fisting your cock. And then I was laying next to you in your bunk - and it had to be a secret. I had to keep quiet - just like at Thanksgiving - and not make a peep.”

“But you don’t like to be quiet…”

He crowded you against the island and rolled his hips against yours. The thin fabric of his joggers did little to hide how much he desired you, especially after the conversation you’d just had.

His subby little girlfriend. God, he couldn’t wait to take you apart bit by bit later.

Now say thank you Bradley. Good girl.

Though, that’s not to say that you couldn’t partake in a little preview now. Bradley’s lips crashed against yours, caught up in the furor and headiness of it all, and your body melted against his. Three months later and you still responded so well to him. Your breathy little sighs as he bit your lip and pressed countless kisses along your jawline and neck sounded like heaven. You smelled so sweet, tasted so sweet, felt so sweet - he kissed you again, coaxing your mouth back open.

“Bradley, bubs, I -” you gasped against his lips, “I need to turn the stove off if we’re going to -”

Without taking his lips off yours, Bradley reached behind his back and turned off the gas burner. The garlic still sizzled in the pan, but now without the risk of burning the house down. You could put fresh garlic on later, now he just wanted you.

His hands went back to their place on your hips before the left slid underneath your oxford and up your body. You stiffened slightly, but welcomed his touch, if only for a moment before you pulled back from him.

“We have to - I have to finish dinner.” He nodded, albeit reluctantly. You pecked his lips again.

There was something deeply erotic about waiting - even if it was just for a couple of hours.

Where are you going to have me first?

In our bed, in our house, after you make me dinner in our kitchen.

Bradley cleared his throat. “You said you wanted to talk about another email? The one about your dream, right? The one with our kid.”

It felt right saying it - our kid.

God, Bradley, I wish you were here right now so you could hold me and tell me you loved me because I just want to feel your arms around me and know you’re real. I want to tell you about the little boy - the perfect mix of me and you

“We can wait until dinner - or even after dinner, if you want?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I’m sorry I’m dropping all this on you. I know you’ll say otherwise, but I shouldn’t have done this right when you came home - the dryer hasn’t even finished your first load yet. I know you’re exhausted and definitely have your own stuff to work through after being gone and we should be having sex on the floor or over the arm of the couch, not listening to me blubber -”

Bradley shook his head and interrupted you. He didn’t want to give you another moment to doubt yourself.

“- Hey, hey. I wanna talk about the heavy stuff with you, it’s okay. And I’d rather we do it now so we can really enjoy these next few days together - and maybe then have sex on the floor and over the arm of the couch. I don’t want this hanging over your head, kid.

“And you’re not alone in thinking about that over the last few months - it’s probably been even longer for me…”

You wiped at the tears pooling in your eyes. “Really?”

“You know you’re it for me, kid.” Have been since our fourth date went unsaid. “So, come on, walk me through it.”

You leaned against the back counter near the stove, while Bradley mirrored you against the island. You sighed.

“I love you so much - sometimes I’m scared that I love you this much and that it’s not quite been a year since we met. And I never thought I’d be so heart achingly in love with someone in the Navy, of all things, and just - sometimes it hits me that you’re not even fully mine? That a part of you will always want to be in the sky or out at sea because you have this other entity that tells you what to do? And when to do it and what to wear and how you should act? Where you’re Rooster and not my Bradley?”

Bradley frowned at the use of his callsign coming from your lips. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t sound right. He didn’t want to be Rooster around you. He liked that he didn’t have to be Rooster around you.

“And it makes me absolutely crazy because you love it and you’re not going to stop - and you shouldn’t stop, not for me! But, god, Bradley, sometimes I want to shake you and hold you down and beg you to stay. Like that fucking story.” You wiped your eyes.

“It’s all I wanted to tell you when I had that dream. About how I want you to come home so badly. I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave and to have that cute little boy who was the perfect mix of me and you and to have you here in my arms every night. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask or even make you think about it, but I want you right here. I don’t want you looking at the sky when you’re here and wanting to be up there. And I know you don’t either, Bradley. You give everything to everyone, you don’t do things by halves.”

You both stood there, Bradley stunned by your words, and you, seemingly stunned that you’d actually said them. He took a step towards you, but didn’t cross that final barrier to touch you. He remembered highlighting a particular passage from the story in his response back to you and how he never wanted you to feel the same way as Lily. He didn’t want to let it - flying, the Navy, all of it get a hold of him.

“Don’t ever be a Rocket Man.” I stopped. “I mean it,” he said. “Because when you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. Don’t start that. Don’t let it get hold of you.” “But-“ “You don’t know what it is. Every time I’m out there I think, If I ever get back to Earth I’ll stay there; I’ll never go out again. But I go out, and I guess I’ll always go out.”

You sniffled and wiped your eyes on your sleeve. “And I was so scared when you didn’t get back to me right away. Thought I’d scared you off…” You glanced down at the floor and played with your bracelet. It looked so fragile and dainty on your wrist. “I think I wrote five different responses to you after - deleted all of them.”

Bradley nudged your foot with his own and got you to look up at him. Even though it felt like his tattoo was burning into his skin - xxxix, xxxix, xxxix, the number ran through his head constantly as of late - he tried to put on a brave face. Everything you were saying was what he had been mulling over for the last three months. Thousands of miles apart and you both were still so in-sync. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“You turned my life on its head when you sent me that story.” Even weeks later, he was still in disbelief. “And I know it wouldn’t have changed anything - not really - but I kept - I keep wondering how my dad would’ve reacted to it? Or my mom? I don’t think it would’ve made anything different, but just knowing about it? Because I don’t want us to have kids and still be a ‘rocket man.’ I don’t want them - that little boy in your dream - to wonder if I want to be up in the sky more than I want to be with him. And be with you. I want to be around, I want to be their dad and your husband. I love it, I love flying. But I don’t love it more than being with you and having a family with you. I don’t want to die in an F18 with a family at home.”

You let out a sob and he wrapped his arms around you and slowly swayed you from side to side. “Kid, I got six more years and then I’m all yours.” He could feel your tears seeping into his shirt as you cried. “It’s like what I said after you sent me that story - I don’t want our kids chasing ghosts. Not like I did.”

“You’d give us your wild?” you whispered.

Bradley nodded and felt his own eyes welling up. “I want us to have what my mom and I didn’t. And it’s not that my mom wasn’t enough, but there was always a piece missing for both of us - Maverick, too.” You wiped the tears away from his eyes. “I love you, so, so much, kid. You know I’m gonna marry you. And I just want to be yours when it comes time for us to have a family.”

Honestly, it was a relief that you’d brought all this up. It only reaffirmed the thought that had been bouncing around Bradley’s head lately.

You two wouldn’t have kids until he was out of the Navy.

There were six years until Bradley could put in his twenty years and retire. It was a little fucked, honestly, and he was sure his therapist would have plenty to say about it. But why not avoid something that could end in tragedy for everyone involved?

Why run the risk?

Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home.

And he knew his logic wasn’t exactly sound. It didn’t entirely make sense even to himself. There would be plenty of times over the next six years where he could get into an accident or not come home from a mission. He understood that.

Except, currently, there wasn’t a kid waiting at home for him. There wasn’t a three year old Bradley waiting at home and being told by his mom that his dad wasn’t coming home. He knew that if you had a family, it would be harder for you to move on if something happened to him. And he didn’t want to put you and any future little nuggets through that. He didn’t want to be a rocketman with them.

Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home.

He wasn’t going to do that to your family. So, why not just wait to have a family until after he got out of the Navy? It seemed obvious. Perfectly so. The words had been ready to pour out of his mouth, except you beat him to it.

“I know,” your cleared the scratchiness out of your throat, “we talked about waiting to have kids until a couple years after we get married, but if you want to wait until you retire, we’ll do it. And then we’ll get all of you. I want to do everything with you, Bradley.”

Give you my wild, give you a child.

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and squeezed you hard. “I love you, I love you, I love you. God, I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead and cheeks and lips and tried his damndest to pour all the love he had for you into it.

“I love you, too, Bradley,” you said simply.

And maybe it wasn’t exactly healthy to wait and almost be consumed by this desperate need to control both your lives and have a countdown clock to when everything would be okay. Because maybe things wouldn’t be okay in six years? And maybe you and Bradley would get in a car accident tomorrow or maybe you both would have trouble having kids or or or…

But Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home.

He would need to talk about this with his therapist at some point. The therapist the Navy gave him eighteen months ago after he ‘recklessly’ went back to save Maverick. The therapist that he just never stopped seeing even though he was cleared from last April.

“We’re a bit of a mess, aren’t we?” Bradley asked after a moment.

You pulled back. “Maybe? And maybe it’s a little extreme for both of us to think like that, but we’ll make it work, okay? However we have to, we’ll make it work for us.” You punctuated your words with a quick kiss over his heart.

“Oh dear,” you said suddenly. Bradley tensed up. “I got tears on your shirt.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I know you can afford to get me a new one.” You shoved his shoulder and you both laughed. And just like that, the mood was lifted.

Bradley had been right earlier - he felt lighter. You looked lighter. And that wasn’t to say that you’d looked gloomy or upset or scared before, but your shoulders weren’t as tense and you kept smiling, at him, at whatever you were cooking, at nothing.

This could be his life every night. You could be together like this forever. Cooking dinner side by side, talking about where the mail should go (it very much was not on the hall table, that was for damn sure), complaining about Mr. Harrington next door or arguing over who should vacuum. All the little things that made that big life together. The one you both wanted so badly.

And contrary to your earlier statement, you did make you and Bradley another drink before dinner. In fact, it probably was what gave you the courage to attempt to flip the chicken in the saucepan like a regular José Andrés. (Even more surprising was the fact that you didn’t drop any.)

Once the potatoes finished, you swapped them in the oven for the asparagus, hoping the former would cool while the latter was roasting. All the while, you talked Bradley through everything - how much oil you added to the asparagus, where you’d gotten the potatoes, and the recipe for the chocolate cake you’d made for dessert.

It was - well, Bradley didn’t really have a word for what it was. His first thought was how nice it was seeing you so confident and capable and proud of yourself. But his second thought was that it was also oddly stirring seeing you do all this for him while he just watched.

Watched his pretty little girlfriend bopping around the kitchen, bopping around the house making sure everything was perfect for him. All you needed was a pretty little dress and a string of pearls to match your earrings. His pretty little housewife. Mrs Bradshaw. Bent over the kitchen island, wearing nothing but a frilly white apron and a pearl necklace as he fucked you from behind -

“All set!” Your cheerful voice interrupted Bradley’s fantasy before it could really start. He had zoned out while you’d been prattling on about the herb cutting scissors you wanted to get at Crate & Barrel. “Shall we?”

Bradley readjusted himself before getting up from his seat and helping you bring the drinks and serving dishes into the dining room.

Mrs Bradshaw.

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

“So, how is it?” you asked once the food had been served and the wine had been poured. You had your chin propped up on your fist as you watched Bradley take the first few, slow bites of food.

It was good. It was more than good, it was excellent. It was hot and perfectly seasoned and all the textures were just right. And it wasn’t just because he’d been on an aircraft carrier, eating out of the officer’s mess everyday. Because the food was actually pretty good on the carrier and the Aussies had even treated him to a couple meals.

But he wouldn’t be Bradley and you wouldn’t be you if he didn’t mess with you a little. He tilted his head back and forth, trying to look like he was mulling it over. “It’s good…”

You nudged his foot under the table once you saw the smile threatening to break out on his face. “You ass.” The words lacked any heat.

Bradley took another bite of potatoes before speaking. “It’s really good, kid, seriously. You killed it. Seemed like you really enjoyed it, too.”

“I did,” you nodded, “I just always used to be so nervous I’d undercook something and make everyone sick, you know? Or that people would be lying to me about the food and that it was burnt or under-seasoned or something? But those lessons really helped and made me more confident, which is exactly why you gave them to me, so thank you.”

Maybe it wasn’t exactly why he had given them to you, but…

“You’re very welcome.”

Dinner continued on with only light hearted conversation after that. What Reuben and Bob were planning for their leave (Reuben and his wife were going up the coast for a mini-break and then building out the nursery for their baby, while Bob was going home to see his parents), the work you had to finish up before your trip, and what you both were hoping to get out of your vacation (good food, a tan, reading plenty of books, and having copious amounts of sex).

All the while, Bradley had another helping of everything, except the potatoes, of which he had two additional helpings - you refrained from seconds entirely. You two must have sat at the table for over two and a half hours, talking and eating and laughing. It was perfect. Bradley helped you bring the dishes back into the kitchen; both of you were more than happy to deal with them a little later.

And then there was the dessert. The chocolate cake looked heavenly - Ina’s recipe, of course - and you asked Bradley if he wanted an espresso martini to wash it down.

“What? ‘You trying to get me drunk?”

You put your hand over your heart. “I would never! Though, I know your tolerance might be a little shot. Did that affect your stamina, too?”

“Ha, ha, ha hilarious.” He took the cake plate and knife from you while you went over to the bar to make the martinis. “I’ll have you know that the Aussies were very accommodating hosts.”

“The Aussies, huh?”

Bradley shrugged. It wouldn’t be an issue to tell you now, not after he’d been dying to mention it for the past few weeks. “It’s not classified or anything, they just don’t like us talking about it in the moment.”

“Wait,” you came back into the dinning room with a coupe half filled in your right hand. “Did you go to Australia?”

“Possibly…” You shot him a look. “We do this joint training exercise with them every year. Last year was my first year.”

“That’s so cool! Did you spend much time actually on land or…” You went back to preparing the drinks and tossed your next question over your shoulder. “When was it? I think I saw something about it in the news.”

“After you got back from London. It was just a week for the actual exercise, but there were a lot of meetings in the lead up, we did a couple war-games, too. We were mainly in New South Wales with the aviators, but went up to the North Western Territory for the actual exercises.”

Last year, Bradley hadn’t had the opportunity to really get too involved in the planning aspects and being on base - his promotion hadn’t come through yet, so he had been just a lowly lieutenant - but his elevated rank granted him that privilege this year.

“Wait, that’s so cool, I’ll have to read up on it more! I definitely remember hearing about it on the news, should’ve made the connection.” You came back over with the drinks. “How were the other pilots? This isn’t going to be some Manchurian Candidate bullshit, is it?”

Bradley barked out a laugh. “Nah, that’ll be Bob.”

“Did it have a fun name? They always seem to!”

Bradley took a sip of his martini. Damn it was delicious. “Exercise Talisman Sabre - R-E. You want me to cut the cake?”

You nodded. Bradley pulled the cake stand closer to his seat. The cake was stunning. The frosting was definitely homemade and the white piping on the top looked perfect. “‘You take a picture of it yet?”

“Of the cake?”

“Gotta commemorate this, it’s gorgeous. Need one with you, too!” You smiled bashfully as Bradley snapped a couple pics with his phone and then put it face-up on the table. The picture of the two of you at your Christmas party before his deployment smiled back up at him.

You sat back down in your chair. “Here’s hoping it tastes just as good.”

There would still be plenty of cake for leftovers, but Bradley thought the two of you deserved a little something extra tonight and measured the first piece a little bigger than he normally would.

“Oh. You can have that one. I’ll take a smaller piece.” He went to cut another piece, slightly smaller than his. “Little smaller.” He kept scooching the knife closer and closer for your approval until it was only about a third of the size of his piece. “That’s perfect, thanks.”

You took a huge first bite of cake and Bradley did the same. “Oh, god. It’s so good,” he said. “I need the recipe so I can make this every week.”

Your fork froze midair for a moment, before you took a slightly smaller piece this time. “I don’t know if I can handle this every week...” You chuckled.

Bradley moaned. “But the ganache! The whipped frosting on the top! Sweetheart, it’s so good. The world cannot be deprived of its beauty.”

That got a proper laugh out of you. “‘You writing sonnets about cake now?”

“I’ll write sonnets about you, this cake, anything you want, you got me in a good mood, kid.” He licked the frosting off his fork and then went back in for the final two bites.

“That might just be the martini talking, bubs. Here,” you slid your barely eaten plate over towards him, “you can have the rest of mine.”

Bradley frowned. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I had extra batter and made some cupcakes. Had one this morning. I’m chocolate cake’d out.”

He was a little dubious since you loved chocolate cake, but took your words at face value.

“But first,” you swiped some extra frosting off your plate and streaked it across Bradley’s cheek, “you got a little something on your face, bubs.”

“Oh no,” he laid it on thick, “guess you’ll have to come over here and help me clean it off.”

In a flash, you were on him - arms wrapped around his neck, legs astride his thigh. Your feet remained firmly on the ground, but Bradley wanted all your weight on him, reminding him that he was here in the house you shared and not back in his bunk on the carrier.

“There we go.” You swiped the frosting off his cheek and sucked the excess off your finger. “My pretty boy again.”

He smiled. “You say that like you haven’t wanted to fuck me since we got home.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. “I’m trying to draw out the anticipation!” Bradley squeezed your hips and you shifted your weight on his thigh. This time your words came out quieter. “Thought you wanted me in our bed the first time back?” You pressed light kisses across his neck and jawline until you nipped at his ear. “The same bed I’ve been getting myself off in every night since I brought my stuff over.”

“But just like I asked, right? Just your fingers?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

You ducked your head at the praise and then pulled yourself even closer to him before capturing his lips in a deep kiss. You tasted like espresso and chocolate and Bradley wanted to take you right there on the dining room table with little regard for the state of his stem and dish-ware. Slowly, you rocked your body on his lap and let out a breathy gasp against his lips. The seam on your jeans must have been driving you absolutely crazy, but you didn’t let up. And, frankly, Bradley didn’t want you to - all he wanted right now was to keep kissing you, keep pressing his chest against yours, keep grabbing at your hips over your shirt. Except that soon wasn’t enough.

He slipped his hand underneath your shirt and went straight for your lace bra. He smiled against your lips. Good girl. You wore his favorite one. His hand slid lower to drag his fingers across the soft skin of your stomach and side. God, you were so warm. So soft. But he couldn’t linger on the spot for too long after you pushed his hand away and gestured for him to get up.

Without separating yourselves for too long, you and Bradley made your way from making out on his dining table chair to making out on the couch. You were on your back, half wedged between the back cushion, and entirely under Bradley’s bulk.

God, had he missed this. Touching you, kissing you, holding you, fucking you. You’d already talked for hours, now he wanted to kiss you for them.

The couch felt ten times more inviting with you now than it had earlier in the evening when it had just been Bradley. Because now he had you underneath him with your head on the throw pillows he had made note of earlier, now the candles on the coffee table were lit and were the perfect complement to your perfume, and now the cashmere blanket he had always loved was half draped over you both.

This was where you’d watch movies together at night, where you’d open Christmas presents, where you’d ride him after a long day at work, where you’d have meals with the news on in the background, where your kids would watch TV.

“I love you,” you rasped against his lips. “I love you so much.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeated.

It could have been twenty minutes or an hour later, but now the two of you were just laying side by side on the couch. You were wrapped in Bradley’s arms, nestled against his chest, where you had been pressing little kisses against his neck for the last five minutes. Occasionally, you’d play with the ends of his hair or drag your finger across the scars on his neck.

Bradley pressed a light kiss to your temple. “This has been really nice, thank you. I’ve never had someone to come home to - not like this.”

You tilted your head up and bit your lip, looking adorably flustered. “I always want to be here when you come home. And I wanted to do something nice for you, make you happy.”

“You made me very happy, always do.”

“Always, huh?” you teased. You kissed his neck. Nipped at his neck.

Bradley mimicked your tone. “Well, not when I saw the way you put the mail on the hall table…”

“You gonna punish me?” There was a little glint in your eyes as you said it.

While the idea had plenty of merit, Bradley didn’t want that tonight, he wanted everything to be soft and slow, so he could really get his fill of you. Plus, you’d be so fucking tight for him, so responsive to his touch, he wanted to make that drag out as long as possible. He wanted you to babble, he wanted you to beg.

“Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow if you’re good for me?” He pinched your side and you let out a giggle and then suddenly sat up on the couch, almost startled.

“I should do the dishes, don’t want to leave them for too long. You can head upstairs, though.” You cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” he said the last word through a yawn.

“Nope!” You smiled over your shoulder and headed off to the kitchen. “You’re off the hook. I’m gonna finish putting these in the dishwasher and lock-up while you go upstairs and get ready, okay?”

Bradley scrunched his nose. “Is this gonna be a normal thing? You doing all the housework? Because that’s not gonna slide, roomie.”

“Oh, so I’m just your roommate now?” you teased. You bent over the dishwasher to put some larger plates in the back. “I see how it is, Bradshaw.”

He doubled back over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Got a feeling you’re gonna be my last one,” he murmured against your neck before he pressed kisses against it.

It was like you melted against him. God, you smelled so pretty and tasted so pretty and looked so pretty and sounded so pretty giggling. And Bradley had never felt so welcomed home before. He couldn’t wait to do this with you every night.

“Bradley,” you sighed and turned around to face him. “The sooner you let me finish, the sooner I can come upstairs…” You pecked him on the lips.

Upstairs. Where Bradley would take care of you.

Take care of you. Take you. Take you take you take you -

He groaned and gave you a longer kiss. “Okay, okay, okay.” He kissed you between each word. “But this is the last time you’re getting away with this...”

“I’ll hold you to it.” You kissed him again. “Now go! Get into something comfortable, powder your nose, touch up your hair -”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he promised. “Don’t be too long, we can always do everything tomorrow morning.”

You waved him off good-naturedly and went about setting the kitchen to rights. Bradley smiled at the sight of you already appearing so at home in his house - your house and headed upstairs. With startling alacrity despite the numerous drinks he’d had and the late hour, Bradley quickly brushed his teeth, did his skincare routine, and turned down the bed for your arrival.

Even a floor apart, he could still hear the sounds of you puttering around downstairs. If he concentrated really hard, he could imagine exactly what you were doing.

You had just opened the silverware drawer, probably had just washed and dried something - oh right, he had noticed you used the hand-wash-only salad tongs for the asparagus. Then you opened the tupperware cabinet and got out some snapware and eventually opened the freezer, putting the leftover chicken piccata away for another meal. Then there was the sound of the cake plate on the granite countertop and more snapware. He was still surprised you hadn’t eaten much cake, much of any of the food really, but chalked it up to nerves or excitement at his homecoming.

With a sigh, Bradley laid back against the fluffy pillows lining the headboard. God, he had missed this. His high thread count sheets, your fancy Laundress detergent, his side of the bed - and more importantly, you being on the other side. He stretched and let out a groan, getting comfortable.

This was perfect. He was home - in the house you now shared. You were going to come upstairs - probably in some cute little outfit - and give him a proper welcome home. Bradley bet you even got a new matching set just for the occasion. The two of you had gotten all the tough conversations out of the way - for the most part - so now you could really enjoy these next few days together before your trip.

And Bradley was so excited to go to Punta Mita with you. You had done such an amazing job planning everything. He had done some additional research on his flight home earlier and definitely wanted to hit up the spa and maybe sneak in a round of golf over the ten day trip. Plus, you definitely had the cutest fucking outfits planned. He always liked that, imagining what you were wearing while he was gone. The sporadic pictures hadn’t been enough. You always looked so pretty and he always needed to tell you.

Pretty, pretty, pretty. His pretty girlfriend. Downstairs, making sure everything was all set. He yawned. Mmmmm, he hoped you’d be upstairs soon. His eyelids were getting heavy.

And it was so warm and comfy and his stomach was full and everything smelled so good and he was here.

Finally, he was here with you.

In your house, talking about your future.

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes. Maybe if he just took a quick nap…

a/n - sorry for the cliff hanger, but it's the PERFECT spot for a break! next part will have that first night back AND the lead up to their trip, which will be in the final part! couldn't have gotten this done without all the encouraging messages and texts over the last few weeks - special shout out to @sometimesanalice @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @cherrycola27 @heartsofminds and @greenorangevioletgrass xxjordan

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun imagine #rooster x reader #bradley fic

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wings-of-sapphire · 5 months

Text

HELLO THERE LOVES I MADE A WISH REWRITE

I watched Wish twice (once on early screening day and once on the offices release date) and I fuckin loved it. But I feel like while this was a great movie, it was Disney’s 100th anniversary one and it needed like twenty minutes more or so to develop the characters and make it a truly spectacular celebration of 100 years of Disney.

I recently read about the concept pictures for Wish— Asha being the daughter of Magnifico, Star taking a human form and having a relationship with Asha— and I liked the idea of changing up the “quirky main character” idea as well. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with girls like Rapunzel or Mirabel. They’re fun, they’re optimistic, they’re hardworking and determined. Buuuuut as more of a pessimist myself I found my favorite character to be Gabo. The short pink sarcastic side friend based off of Grumpy. Yes, the friends are based off of the seven dwarfs. But ANYHOW— I thought maybe a return to the Classic Disney Princess attitude would be nice. So I chose Kusco. Because he’s the best Disney Princess out there.

I’ve been rambling long enough. Full rewrite under the cut! Will explain more in future posts! Ask any and all questions you’d like! Now, presenting my Wish rewrite~

💫 Asha is the princess of the kingdom of Rosas. Her parents, Magnifico and Amaya, built Rosas after Magnifico’s old kingdom was burned by greedy Wishers who used magic to give them whatever they wanted, which led to their own destruction.

Asha grew up in her kingdom learning that because her father kept the magic in check and only he granted wishes, Rosas could stay safe and happy. Asha gives tours of the city to people who sail in, and as they give their wishes to Magnifico, Rosas grows stronger and safer.

Welcome to Rosas

(Though she’s on carpets and stuff and there’s servants swarming her and she’s comfortable while giving the tour— we see Asha being kind to the child of the tour group)

Asha puts on a happy face for the tourists. But the people of Rosas say they know the “real” her. They hate their princess, truthfully. But they love her parents.

Asha doesn’t really have friends. She’s above that. She’s a princess and her parents founded this kingdom that literally granted people’s wishes. Sure, she sometimes lingers in the kitchen to hang out with Dahlia, the head chef. And sure, sometimes she wished wanted to hang out with them. Dahlia and her six friends whom Asha could never remember the names of. She calls them nicknames based on their characteristics. Easy and efficient. Dahlia is Doc, since she always patches her friends up. She said Asha couldn’t call her friend Stoner, so his name is Dopey (Dario). There’s Happy (Hal), Sleepy (Simon), Sneezy (Safi), Bashful (Bazeema), and Grumpy (Gabo). They’re all close-knit and trust each other with everything.

Asha doesn’t have that.

But she’s their princess. And she remains that way. Untouchable. Unbreakable.

Until one day, Grumpy Gabo says she’s not above them for any reason other than her title. That if ranks were stripped away, she’d be talentless and left behind.

Of course Asha can’t have that.

Soooooo she sneaks into her father’s study to get some of his magic.

What? He has a ton of it.

But then stuff goes awry. Asha tampers with Magnifico’s forbidden books and… nothing happens.

Grumpy laughs at her and Asha threatens to have him imprisoned if he doesn’t treat his princess with respect. Dahlia and the gang stand up for Grumpy and Asha storms off.

Amaya tries to comfort Asha when she runs to her room and throws herself on her bed and cries, princess-style, and Amaya and Asha talk about how Asha dreams of a group of friends she can have fun with and trust, and Asha says her brain knows what her wish was, and it was to become the most powerful sorceress princess in the lands just like her papa. Amaya says that a dream is a wish your heart makes, and Asha’s heart didn’t want to be the untouchable princess of Rosas. Her head may tell her that, but everyone needs connections.

It’s Magnifico that ends up cheering Asha up by bringing her to see the wishes of Rosas again.

At All Costs

Asha calls Magnifico “Papa” and Amaya “Mama” by the way

That night, Asha tosses and turns, and we see the magic swirls from the book start to gather around her, then shoots into the sky as she shoots up, panting.

Turns out she accidentally ripped a star out of the sky. Asha runs after the giant comet fall, where a young man is floating in a crater in the forest.

The star had taken the shape of a young man. Who can fly. And bring objects to life for a bit.

He’s glowing yellow and wears a dark teal-blue velvet cape and his glow turns pink when he spots Asha.

When Asha freaks out and grabs the boy— she’s calling him Star— and hides his glow with her pajama cloak, and asks how the heck did this happen?

Star shrugs and says he was just chilling in space when the force of someone’s dream pulled him down to land.

Asha quietly excitedly stims, saying she can’t wait to rub Star in Grumpy’s face, and Star is like please don’t rub me in someone’s face, sweetheart.

Sweetheart?

Asha glares at Star, who smirks.

Asha exclaims that anyways— she knew she was a powerful sorceress, and Star says he senses no magic on Asha.

Asha says she must’ve had magic in her, or else how could she have ripped a star from the sky?

Star says people can learn magic but right now, Asha was inexperienced. It was probably because of her connection to the stars.

That means—

No, it’s not just you. All people are connected to the stars.

You’re a Star

Asha takes Star back to her room and says they can’t let her dad know she used his books to summon Star— but maybe Grumpy would need more proof. Maybe she could sneak a peek at his book again, and summon more stars to prove to Doc and the gang that she has talent and she was sooooo qualified to be their fr— sorcerer princess.

She tells Star to stay put in her room, and she’d sneak out and take a quick look.

Star asks if he can come with.

He just got ripped from the sky and needs some more exposition than “I don’t know.” And he’s too impatient to wait for Asha to come back.

Asha says he’ll have to learn and Star magically locks the doors until Asha explains something about how he was brought here.

“You made trees dance the hula and we rode here on a singing deer.”

Star gives Asha a look.

Asha pinches the bridge of her nose and explains that her papa’s whole family was killed because of the greedy wishmakers. With him in charge, he gets to choose, and people are safe.

Star says that the people deserve more, and Asha snaps that get family decides what everyone deserves because they’re the rulers of Rosas.

Star smirks at her and says she’s adorable when she’s mad. But, she’s wrong. The people deserve a chance to get their wishes returned so they can become dreams that can be achieved by pure hard work.

Asha says they’re the same thing, and Star shakes his head. “A wish you give away. A dream you keep with you to work hard and achieve your heart’s goal.”

“Wow, you have a great personality.”

Asha rolls her eyes and says Star can come, but he has to be quiet.

In Magnifico’s study, Asha sees Star heading to the wish room, and before she can grab him, he opens the doors and sees the wishes of Rosas.

Star is amazed and Asha sighs and walks up next to them. She looks up and closes her eyes and bathes in the feeling.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah… they are.”

Star quickly turns to look at the wishes above them, his glow pink.

They end up arguing again because Star wants to return the wishes to the people so they can become dreams once again and Asha says her father worked hard on protecting them

Out in the hallways, Asha ends up shoving Star into a nearby room when she hears Doc and her friends come by

Asha smooths down her skirt and holds her head high as she walks by and calls to Grumpy. She smirks and says unfortunately, they were incorrect about her being talentless. In fact, she was so powerful, she ripped a star from the sky.

Behold.

She opens the door (which turns out led to the chicken coops) where Star was chilling in the sunlight where his glow looked normal.

“You brought us all here to check out your boyfriend?”

“Hal!”

Asha rushes to explain that no, Happy, he was the star. She orders Star to step out of the sun.

Star crosses his arms.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Dahlia and her friends all gasp and start planning Star’s funeral.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m a star. If you ever want your dream to come to fruition you have to be nice to people you want to befriend. Go on. Apologize and then ask me nicely.”

Dahlia and friends are now forgoing that funeral, there will be no remains left to bury.

But then Asha flares her nostrils, taps her foot, then glances at Doc. She averts her eyes and mutters, “sorry for being mean to Grumpy. Star, can you… can you please show them?”

Jaws: dropped. Wigs: snatched. Princess Asha of Rosas, apologizing and saying “please”? Sure, she cared for her people. But she never apologized if she accidentally ran into someone for walking in their way! It was her way! She was the only one who’s way mattered!

Star smiled and thanked Asha, then steps out of the sun to reveal his glow.

Jaws: even dropped-er. Wigs: even snatched-er.

After the initial “ooh”s, [something something]

Asha tells everyone that because she’s a star, she was able to be this powerful. They should all be impressed.

Star then corrects her by saying everyone was made of stardust and therefore had a connection to the stars and magic.

When Gabo laughs, Asha throws a fork at him and tells him to do that to himself.

Magnifico is calling Asha for a family meeting, and she says it’s probably about tonight’s wish ceremony. Dario’s Sabi who’s turning 100 today wants to get his wish picked. He doesn’t remember what it is as all wish-givers forget, but he knows it has something to do with his sickness. Asha tells everyone else to keep quiet about Star, or else. And with that, she leaves the room.

Star opens his arms and asks which of the group wants to help him commit a crime.

“What?”

He wants to break into Magnifico’s study and return the wishes to the people of Rosas.

Gabo snaps at him that they can’t just steal from the king and queen, and everyone else agrees. But Dahlia purses her lips. “Why?”

Dario asks if he wants to betray his girlfriend like that, to which Star turns pink and rolled his eyes saying they were not dating, in fact, they were enemies! She was uptight and didn’t care about anything but her title, scoff!

“Uh huh. Sure, buddy.”

“Gabo, stop talking.”

“Yes Bazeema.”

Star explains that losing people’s wishes made them lose a part of themselves. The most beautiful part, their heart’s dream. He tells Simon that his heart is sad.

He asks that if he returns Simon’s wish back to him, and it does make him whole again, then would they believe him?

Dahlia shakes her head and says they wouldn’t be part of this. But… they wouldn’t mention anything to Magnifico or Amaya. For the time being.

Star thanks Dahlia, and she says this was for Simon. And if Asha also changes her mind, then that’s a bonus. Then she smiles. “Good luck, kid.”

Magnifico called Asha to talk with her and Amaya about a threat that’s happened to the kingdom. Last night, someone harnessed the magic of a star and ripped it from the sky, which disturbed the wishes and his magic. Someone has threatened him, and this was a warning that something was to come. He couldn’t let that fire happen again.

Amaya and Asha calm his worries, and Magnifico says he doesn’t want the people to lose faith in him. Amaya says she will explain to the people about the giant light last night since they were asking questions, but they shouldn’t let it worry them.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’ve got this, papa. I’m sure whoever bashed that light meant you no harm.”

“Thank you, Asha.”

Star asks Asha to spend the day with him, to which she agrees until the wish ceremony that night. The two have a day in Rosas, Tangled-style. Romantic montage, beautiful moments, Star sneaking glances at Asha when she isn’t looking and Asha doing the same for him.

Star shows Asha how to be messy and see the beauties of life while Asha shows Star how she actually does have good in her and cares for her people, truly. Star gives Asha a small wand to practice some small magic as a gift. While she shows him the study, he sneaks into Magnifico’s office and steals Simon’s wish.

Star returns to the seven and gives Simon back his wish. His dream was to become the kingdom’s best knight— and now he could achieve that! They show Asha how much happier Simon is with his whole self again, and while Asha is happy for Simon and that the seven are being kind to her (after she’s been kind to them), she asks Star to promise not to steal stuff from her papa without running it by her first.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

Safi asks Asha if she can get her papa to grant his Sabi’s wish, or at least return it so he could have a chance at fulfilling his dream like Simon now can. Maybe it would reveal a way Sabino could live longer.

Asha hesitates.

In her room, Asha paces. Her papa said that if people kept their wishes, they’d be dangerous and bring another fire to burn down their kingdom. But Simon seemed so happy. She didn’t know what to do.

Later, in the wish ceremony, all her friends are happy and excited for Safi’s Sabi. Sabino only has a few weeks left to live, and if this month his wish is granted, Safi can keep his Sabi with him.

Asha did talk to Magnifico but Amaya reminded her of the dangers of people chasing wishes in the wind. They showed Asha that Sabi Sabino’s wish was too dangerous, his heart’s dream was live forever. Sure, he was sick now, but once he gets better from that, who knows what immortality will do? Magnifico revealed the true story of their home using magical glass shards—

Backstory details that’s tragic and sad

Basically a king wanted to be immortal and it led to him going insane which led to the destruction of his kingdom

He sent his son away before the whole place burned to ashes

Magnifico was that son

A Wish Worth Making (?)

Asha agrees with him that that can never happen, and Sabino’s wish must never be granted and only the royal family can keep Rosas safe.

At the ceremony

Magnifico doesn’t grant Sabino’s wish and Amaya makes a public statement about how wishes were kept with him to stay safe and anyone who tried to oppose that rule was a danger to everyone in Rosas and a traitor to the crown.

Star calls them out for this and while Simon hides his glow with his huge body, the seven create a ripple effect through the crowd with questions that question the king and queen’s authority. They bring up how Amaya reassured them but this contradicted her words. Magnifico ends the ceremony and storms up to the royal master room with Amaya.

Asha and Star have an argument, with her saying her parents were good people and him saying that Safi’s Sabi will die because her parents were scared, and with that Asha flares her nostrils and says that she is the princess, and as their superior, they should watch their tone before something bad happens.

Safi is heartbroken. Without that wish, his Sabi will die.

Dahlia comforts him, and Star steels himself.

Star tells the group that they’re going to steal all the wishes. And return the dreams of the people back to them. Especially Safi’s Sabi.

“But Asha—“

“I’ll tell her when she comes back. We need to do this now.”

Back at the castle, Magnifico is pacing angrily in his room with Amaya. How dare these people question them? They’re doing everything in their power to prevent that (points to a burned tapestry of young Magnifico and his family) from happening again!

This is the Thanks I Get?!

Amaya also joins in

Cutscenes of the seven + Star breaking into the wish room again

Meanwhile, Asha goes back to talk to her parents. Maybe talk to them about Sabino again, maybe tell them everything, who knows—

Wait. There’s a noise in the wish room.

Asha uses her magic wand to open it and sees Star using his magic to lift the roof open to free the wishes. But it isn’t enough. They need more people; the roof is too heavy.

There’s a small magic scuffle with Asha and her wand against Star and his magic, and Asha ends up beating Star (much to his surprise and he’s totally not turned on by this which is why he’s bright red he’s not at all attracted to powerful women). Her heart breaks and she yells at him and all the seven and says if they ever show their faces around her again she’d banish them from Rosas.

“Sweet—“

“Don’t call me that name! Just— just go!”

“Asha, please. Safi’s Sabi—

“Go!”

Star stays and says he’ll be back to free the wishes and return them to the people. Sabino’s sickness has gotten worse, and he can’t wait another month for Magnifico to turn him down once again.

Asha snaps and yells at him a lot and blames him for everything that’s happened lately, the chickens, and the chalk drawing, and the dancing in the city square, and especially that sticky feeling in her chest when Star’s giving her those sad looks. So she doesn’t want to see him again.

She goes to snitch then sees the Epic Celestial Villains her parents had shifted into. Both of them used forbidden magic in the other section of the book Asha used. She asked if she had forbidden magic in her too, but they tell her she wasn’t powerful enough to handle this magic.

Their magic swirling fog is telling them via shapes that Asha was the one that ripped a star from the sky.

They’re acting different— they barely acknowledge Asha and demand that she tells them where Star is.

They crushed wishes to give them power, and Asha is of course horrified.

She saw how happy Simon was, and now those people…

Her parents weren’t survivors.

They were just power-hungry.

And now this forbidden magic was changing them.

They demand Asha tells them where Star was so they could siphon his galaxy magic and become the supreme rulers of Rosas— no one would never question them again.

Asha tells them she doesn’t know, and Magnifico uses his magic fog on Asha to make her tell them that Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, Sneezy, and Doc probably did know.

Amaya tells Asha she was grounded. She says Asha should sit down in her room and wait for the new era to rise.

Asha runs back to her room and cries, princess-style, and speaks out to the sky, to Star, that he was right. He was telling the truth, her parents weren’t good. And now she didn’t know what to do.

This Wish

Yeah she says she’s the first to stand in line but she’s been told that all her life okay

Magnifico makes an announcement to the people of Rosas that the entity that came from the sky was named Star, and he, along with Simon, Gabo, Hal, Dario, Safi, and Bazeema were conspiring to commit treason. He says to find them all and get him Star’s powers do he can grant all of their wishes!

Asha runs after the seven and sees them arrested by other citizens, with Gabo cursing everyone out. Magnifico waves his hand and mutes Gabo. Asha commands the soldiers to give her the satisfaction of imprisoning these traitors and interrogates them in the carriage driving them to the prison with guards posted by.

She asks all of them where Star was, and they refuse to listen to her. They’re cold because she sort of beat them up with her magic. She says as their princess, they have to tell her.

“You all are underneath me. I am your future queen. Tell me where Star is. This is important.” She turns to the shortest in the carriage. “My parents are looking for him. Gabo, if you know where he is, you have to tell me.”

Gabo’s eyes flicker up at her saying his actual name. He glances at Dahlia, who sighs. She says that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t hand Star over, because he was already gone. He was at the place Asha first starting falling in love with him.

The guards raise an eyebrow at Asha, and she says the fools were so simple-minded that they believed her lie. Then she tells Sabi to shut up and stop sneezing.

She says the forest was where she first found Star, and Magnifico creates a dark fog horse to ride out and find Star.

Once she’s sure he’s gone, Asha whips out her magic wand and blasts the doors open. She apologizes to the seven and says nothing could make up for imprisoning them and lording her title over them, but she needed their help to help Star.

Asha and the seven run back to the Rosas town square where Star is rallying the people and telling them the truth about Magnifico and Amaya. The crowd gathers to help pull open the roofs to free the wishes.

Knowing What I Know Now

Asha joins in and leads the people

Asha apologizes to Star for yelling at him and he apologizes to her for going behind her back. He says she deserved to know. Before they go, Asha tells Star to wait.

“That… feeling. That I mentioned before? I think… I think they’re feelings. For you.”

Star’s glow slightly turns pink. “Like, do you mean…”

“Yes. Feelings of affection. I just… wanted to let you know.”

“Sweetheart, you should know I feel the same. Have since I first laid eyes on you.”

“I am pretty beautiful.”

“The beautiful-est.”

Asha laughs. “That’s not a word.”

“She’s right, it’s not,” Dahlia quips.

The two pull back and laugh awkwardly.

The seven lead the people of Rosas to help lift the roofs, but Amaya catches them and there’s a magic battle where Amaya turns into a dragon a la Malifacent. Star helps Asha suck out the evil magic, and Amaya falls to the floor. The roof is opened, and the wishes began to flow out.

Then Star is grabbed from the back by a fog hand and Magnifico tuts, telling Asha he’s disappointed in her. But now that he has the power of a Star, no one will ever question him again.

He ties down every single person and closes the roof, draining Star’s essence into his magical staff.

Asha yells and uses her magic wand against him, and the two have a giant blast of magic against each other, but the energy is draining Asha while Star’s is giving Magnifico more strength.

Star weakly whispers to Asha to remember where she came from.

Magnifico snarls do Asha that she is nothing, and Asha remembers.

“We… are… stars.”

Asha’s blast of magic is battling Magnifico’s but he’s still stronger.

Asha cries out a plea to the people, these stars just like her, and Dahlia responds.

This Wish (Reprise)

The strengths of these stars give Star enough energy to break free from Magnifico’s staff and fly over to Asha’s side, and the magic blast shines bright and blasts Magnifico back, burning away the evil magic.

When the dark clouds clear and the night sky is sparkling once again, Magnifico isn’t moving. Amaya and Asha run to him, and Amaya cries over his body. She apologizes to Star for what they did, and asks if she can help her husband.

Star sadly tells her that his powers weren’t strong enough for that.

Amaya cries, and kisses Magnifico’s lips. Then, her star soul orb thing in her chest glows bright, and Magnifico’s does too. His body glows that shimmering yellow and he’s lifted into the air and the last bit of evil magic is burned away.

Asha asks Star what he’s doing and Star says he’s not doing anything!

Suddenly, Magnifico’s eyes open and he gasps, then falls.

Amaya and Asha rush to catch him, and Magnifico asks what happened.

Star shrugs and says some sort of True Love’s Kiss.

Magnifico and Amaya walk up behind Asha and address the people of Rosas. They apologize for what they did and they know nothing could ever make up for it. But… they promise to keep working to be the best king and queen they can be. If the people will still accept them. Also, they should have what’s rightfully theirs.

Magnifico uses his magic to lift the roof and release the wishes of Rosas back to their people. Amaya tells them that now they have a chance to fulfill their dreams, and she and Magnifico will be behind them every step of the way.

Dahlia steps foreword and thanks them for apologizing.

Basically they can still remain king and queen but they start a council of representatives where people can address them directly about problems and stuff

Then, Asha turns to the seven and says she has to apologize to them. For treating them all so poorly in the past.

They forgive her, and when she asks how they can do something like that so easily, Dahlia smiles. “It’s what friends do.”

“…friends?”

“Do you have a hearing problem, or something?”

“Gabo!”

“Sorry, Bazeema!”

Asha laughs and turns to Star who spins her around.

“I have friends!”

“You have friends!”

Meanwhile, Gabo whispers to Simon how they ever feared the princess. She was just a sad, lonely, friendless girl.

Asha turns to her wand and discovers it broken in half when she was blasted backwards.

Star restores her wand, and she says she’s going to be the most powerful sorceress in the history of ever and Gabo says she looks like a stupid fairy.

Asha glares.

“A fairy godmother,” Gabo smirks.

Star laughs and says that sounds amazing and Asha groans and bites back a smile.

Star smiles at the family, but he looks sad still. Asha holds his hands and he rubs her thumb.

“You have to return to the sky, don’t you?”

“If I had a choice, I’d choose to stay by your side.”

“I’ll keep on wishing on stars. I’ll find a way to bring you back.”

He tells Asha that they’ve learned that sending your greatest desires into the universe in hopes that they’ll be answered doesn’t do anything. It didn’t work for Magnifico, and it didn’t work for Asha. Instead, the people of Rosas should work to achieve their dreams.

Asha says she’ll work to achieve a way to find him again, then. Since she was going to be the most powerful sorceress—

“Fairy godmother~”

“Shut up Gabo.”

—she’d find a way.

Star smiles and says she’s his dream girl, and Asha jokes that’s he’s got to work to achieve her.

Star flips his cape and says it’ll be easy since he’s so absurdly handsome, and Asha snorts as she pulls him down and raises an eyebrow at him. Star turns a bright pink, then rolls his eyes as he smiles and pulls Asha up in the air with him by her waist, and the two kiss.

When they finally separate, Star is vibrating happily and he accidentally shoots out a magic blast at a nearby chicken, which makes it grow big and lay a giant egg on Gabo.

Star winks at her and returns to the sky.

EDIT BC I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO ADD THIS BUT

ASHA DOES END UP USING HER FAIRY GODMOTHER POWERS TO HEAL SAFI’S SABI

MAYBE SHE MAKES A MAGIC FLOWER FROM A SUNDROP AND DAHLIA COOKS A PETAL INTO A COOKIE THAT HEALS SABINO

THEN BEFORE STAR LEAVES HE PROMISES TO HIDE THE GLOWER IN A FAR AWAY KINGDOM EHERE NO ONE WOULD BE ABLE TO EXPLOIT IT FOR IMMORTALITY (*side eyes Gothel*)

HE DOES END UP GETTING HEALED OK THE PEEPAW DOESN’T DIE

#disney wish #princess asha #wish asha #wish movie #asha wish #wish disney #wish 2023 #king magnifico #queen amaya #wish #disney #disney 100 #disney anniversary #walt disney animation studios #rewrite #au #rewriting #writing by sapphire

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writingdumpster · 1 year

Text

an idea

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, oral sex mention, fisting, squirting, praise kink

summary: eddie tells you he wants to fist you. pure porn.

word count: 2,150

Eddie had been eating you out enthusiastically for the last twenty minutes, pushing you into your first orgasm of the night. He leaned back onto his knees as you evened out your breath, enjoying the sight of your twitching body. Eddie ran his hand along the outside of your calf, his fingertips faintly drawing lines along your soft skin.

“I have an idea,” Eddie said. You laughed.

“Uh oh,” you joked. He grinned. “What is it?” You asked.

“Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?” He requested.

“Eddie, you are crazy,” you teased him. He smiled bashfully. “C’mon, tell me,” you pushed.

“I thought maybe you could let me…fist you,” Eddie said, a red blush spreading across his cheeks the moment he said it. You thought for a moment.

“Have you ever done it with someone else?” You asked. Eddie shook his head.

“No, I’ve never told anyone I wanted to before,” he confessed. You smiled warmly. The two of you had started out as a casual hook up, but for the last month the two of you had been growing more and more romantic with one another. You were pleased that Eddie felt comfortable enough to share his fantasies with you.

“You saw it in a porn then?” You asked. Eddie blushed.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Did it look like it hurt the girl?” You asked. Eddie shook his head.

“No, she was…enjoying herself,” Eddie said with a smirk. You chuckled.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I trust you.” Eddie felt his heart skip a beat at your words. He was starting to truly care about you and it was getting harder for him to hide. Eddie crawled over to the edge of the bed and grabbed the bottle of lube on his bedside table. He returned to his place between your legs. He squirted a generous amount of the lube onto his hand and rubbed the excess on your already soaked cunt.

“We’ll work our way up,” Eddie said as he slipped two fingers into you. You hummed gratefully as he began pumping them slowly in and out of you. The wetness from your first orgasm and the copious amount of lube was making filthy sounds as Eddie moved his fingers. His wrist flicked as he moved in and out of you, rubbing his fingers against your g-spot. You hadn’t used words since Eddie had slipped his fingers into you, but you had been making plenty of noise.

“You sound so pretty, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured. “You ready for another?”

“Yes…” You whispered softly. Eddie felt a rush of pride at the need lacing your tone. He slowly eased a third finger into you. You gasped as the new addition stretched your walls.

“Feel okay?” Eddie asked. He kept his fingers buried in you to the knuckle but was hooking them inside you to rub your spongy wall with his calloused fingertips.

“Feels good,” you mewled. Eddie reached up with his other hand and pushed his fingers over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “Ohhh, Eddie,” you cried and arched your back away from the mattress.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie growled as he watched you.

“I’m gonna come!” You cried when Eddie’s movements on your clit sped up. Eddie chuckled darkly. His eyes were locked on your body, trying to absorb every inch of it at once. He couldn’t decide which part of you he liked looking at the most.

“Go on, angel. Let it happen,” Eddie encouraged sweetly. You let your orgasm wash over you, electric pleasure running through your veins while your pussy clenched down on Eddie’s fingers. You threw your hips into the air as you cried out in pleasure. “That’s it, good girl,” Eddie cooed. You let your hips fall back down to the mattress as you caught your breath.

“Eddie,” you sighed contentedly. “More.” Eddie smirked. He pulled his fingers out so the tips of them were just dancing between your soaked lips. He turned his hand vertically and began running four of his fingers up and down your slit. His index finger was hitting your clit each time he got to the top of your cunt, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

“You ready for four, sweet thing?” Eddie asked, voice like honey.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I want it.” Eddie ran his fingers up and down your pink lips before slowly pushing four fingers into you. You gasped in pleasure as you felt the stretch of Eddie’s four fingers pushing into your tight cunt. Eddie had gotten past his first two knuckles when he let out a guttural groan.

“I can feel you opening up for me, angel. Your little cunt wants more of me,” Eddie murmured. He moved his other hand back to your clit and started rubbing the swollen little bud back and forth causing you to kick your legs against the mattress. You moan in ecstasy.

“Fuck, Eds,” you whined. “It’s so good.” Eddie got all of his four fingers into you and began sliding them in and out of you. He pulled his hand away from your clit and grabbed the bottle of lube laying by his knee. He flipped the top open and poured more lube over his hand and your pussy. You moaned as Eddie’s hands began making even louder squelching noises.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Eddie murmured as he turned his hand inside you. You moaned at the sudden change. Eddie started hooking all four of his fingers against your g-spot. You moaned as the pads of his fingers rubbed against you in just the right spot.

“I’m gonna let you do it again,” you mumbled back. Eddie chuckled.

“Whatever you want, sweet thing,” Eddie called down. He leaned over you to kiss you sloppily. He continued moving his fingers in and out of you, hooking them gently and letting you stretch around him.

“Eddie,” you called. “I want the whole thing,” you told him. “I’m ready.”

“You sure, princess?” He asked. “We can stop if you want.”

“No!” You said a bit more aggressively than you intended. Eddie smirked. “Don’t stop. I want it all,” you pleaded.

“Alright, sweet thing. You know I just want to take care of you,” he cooed. He pulled out of you once more and put more lube on his hand for good measure. He looked down at you and made eye contact, giving you an encouraging smile. He closed his hand so that his fingers were all pushed together like he was making a puppet of his hand. Really, he was going to make a puppet out of you. Eddie locked eyes with you again. You gave him a small nod.

“I’m ready,” you told him again. He slowly began pushing his hand into you. He was rubbing your clit with his other hand, trying to distract you from the painful stretch with pleasure. You found you didn’t mind the stretch though. It felt incredible to feel yourself opening up to accommodate Eddie. You’d never felt so aroused before. Eddie had gotten his fingers into you, but he had just arrived at the knuckle, where you would have to open the widest to accommodate him. The two of you made eye contact.

“Take a deep breath and relax, angel,” Eddie cooed. You nodded, inhaling deeply before exhaling and letting every remaining ounce of tension leave your body. As you did you felt Eddie pushing his wide knuckles past your opening. You gasped and moaned involuntarily at the stretch. You felt your gummy walls tighten around Eddie’s wrist as his hand slid all the way into your cunt.

“Mmmhhhooohh, Eddie,” you moaned up at him. Eddie could feel your cunt clenching down on his hand.

“Does it feel okay, sweet thing?” He asked, his hand motionless inside you. He pressed a small kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“It feels fucking incredible,” you told him. “I feel so full.”

“Is it alright if I start moving then?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” you said breathily. “Please.” Eddie began to slowly turn his wrist so that his palm would be facing up inside you. You moaned as you felt his hand moving inside you, stretching your wet hole. He began thrusting his hand in and out of you shallowly, not moving out enough that you would have to accommodate his knuckles as he did. You moaned roughly at the feeling.

“That feels good?” Eddie asked.

“Feels really good,” you assured him. You clenched down on his wrist.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight, even with my whole hand inside you.” He stopped thrusting. “Look at me.” You turned your eyes to meet his soft brown ones. He smirked devilishly but before you could question him you felt him close his fist inside you. You moaned in shocked pleasure. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your legs kicked and your back arched away from the mattress, your body moving as if by Eddie’s command. He ran his hand up and down your thigh to soothe you.

“Open it,” you whimpered as you caught your breath.

“Open it?” Eddie asked.

“Your hand. Open it inside me,” you said. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not all the way. Just enough to stretch me.” He nodded. He slowly began to open his fist. You started moaning immediately as you felt his hand moving.

“Ohh, fuck, Eddie,” your voice was low and sultry. None of the sounds coming from your mouth were being controlled and their volume was growing higher than it probably should have been.

“You sound so sexy, sweet thing. I love your moans,” Eddie called. All you could do in response was moan out another incoherent sound. Eddie’s hand was now open flat inside you, fingers still pushed together. He was rubbing against your walls tenderly when you reached up and touched his chest, gaining his attention. He looked at you, eyes wide, waiting to follow whatever instruction you had for him.

“Fuck me with your hand,” you begged. “Make me come.” Eddie smirked.

“You sure?” He asked, his voice laced with the cockiness that had gotten you in his bed the first time.

“I’m sure,” you said. He nodded

“Lay back, angel,” he cooed. “I’ll take care of this sweet little pussy for you.” He began thrusting his hand in and out of you, just letting your lips open around the width of his knuckles before pushing back into you again. You were moaning wildly. The neighbors had surely heard by this point. The wet sloshing of your cunt was filling the spaces between your moans.

“Faster,” you called. Eddie complied at once. His hand was still stroking your thigh softly. You reached down to your clit with your own hand and began rubbing circles against it. Eddie moaned.

“Yeah, baby, touch yourself,” he groaned. You whined back in pleasure.

“I’m gonna come, Eddie,” you told him.

“I know, angel.”

“Gonna make a mess,” you warned. Eddie grinned.

“You gonna squirt for me, sweet thing?” You nodded furiously. “Go on. Make a mess all over me.” Eddie started moving his hand more quickly, pulling it out of you past the knuckle before pushing it back in again. Your cunt was making the dirtiest sound you’d ever heard and you couldn’t have contained the moans coming out of you if your life depended on it, but you would’ve died happy anyway.

“Ahhhh! Eddddiieee!” You cried. You came hard. Eddie could feel you clenching and unclenching around his hand as he kept fucking it in and out of you. After another second you were spraying clear fluid all over his arm and sheets as you continued coming.

“Yeah, that’s it, come,” Eddie groaned. Your chest was heaving as pleasure continued to run through your body but slowly you caught your breath. You looked up at Eddie with heavily lidded eyes as he gently pulled his hand from you. He wiped it off on the leg of his pants and then looked up at you.

“Hi,” you said softly. Eddie grinned.

“Hi,” he said. “You feel okay?” He asked. You nodded.

“That was great,” you said. You reached down and grabbed his hand. “Can I take care of you now?” You asked. Eddie blushed.

“You, uh, don’t…need to,” he mumbled.

“I want to,” you said.

“No, I mean…I…” You glanced down and saw the wet spot staining his pants. You smirked. Eddie looked away from you in embarrassment.

“That’s hot, Eddie,” you said.

“It’s hot that I came in my pants like a teenager?” He asked. You nodded.

“Really hot.” Eddie chuckled.

“Whatever you say,” he agreed.

“See, you’re starting to get how this works,” you teased. He smiled.

“Well, girlfriends are always right and boyfriends are always wrong, right?” He joked. Your eyes widened and you smiled bashfully.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, the hope in your voice unavoidable. Eddie smiled. He laid down beside you and pulled you into his arms. He gave you a sweet and loving kiss.

“Yeah, baby. Girlfriend.”

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things smut

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esamastation · 6 months

Text

Shizuroth, part twenty-two

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one

Professor Hojo is in the middle of an important experiment, when an overly excitable technician from the SOLDIER floors calls in to disturb him.

"Professor, I am very sorry for disturbing you, sir, but you need to see this!"

That is such an uninformative, insipid thing to say that Hojo mistakenly gives the man the benefit of the doubt and expects him to say more, to explain himself. When the man doesn't, he scoffs. "See what? Be more specific!"

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir - it's SOLDIER First Class, Sephiroth - he's in the training room."

Useless! "Sephiroth is often training, that is hardly anything to get excited over."

"Sir, by our estimation he's held a sustained Limit Break state for the past twenty-five minutes! And he isn't fighting!"

Hojo perks up at that. "Was he fighting when the Limit Break began?"

"No, sir, he's just, sort of… swinging his sword around? There's no enemy AI, he hasn't been in active combat at all!"

And yet he entered a Limit Break state? Sustaining it for twenty five minutes? Setting aside the utter incompetence of the tech for not calling him earlier, Hojo strokes his chin. Limit Break is caused by stress in life and death situations - a surge of strong emotions activates certain chemicals in the brain, which in turn push the body into a higher state of alertness and cause it to use all potential avenues for survival. It can increase a person's power output on all fronts, even doubling it - but only for a brief moment in time. Longer than that, and the muscle strain alone becomes detrimental.

It is a primitive instinct, a last ditch effort in the face of death, which Mako exposure has made slightly more commonplace in humans - and very commonplace in SOLDIERs. Mako acts as a natural stress trigger - and at the same time it acts as a well of power for SOLDIERs in Limit Break to use.

Much research had gone into intentional activation of the Limit Break state, with less than satisfactory results. If Sephiroth has figured out how to trigger the state outside combat…

"I'm on the way," Hojo says. "Do not tell him and do not let him leave."

"Yes, sir!" the overly excitable technician cries, and Hojo snaps his PHS shut.

As he strides to the elevator, Hojo considers the reports he had gotten, of Sephiroth's unusual activity in the last two days. Request for time off, unusual purchases, shopping trip with Hollander's failed project… coping mechanisms, he'd thought with disappointment. Sephiroth had dealt with the incident with a disheartening show of what could only be called mental weakness, striving for some semblance of control by spending money on frivolity.

But though an unusual reaction from Sephiroth, Hojo has seen worse, and so he'd been satisfied letting it slide, for now. If the usual behaviour continues it might require correcting, but only if it affects overall performance, and results are still pending. Further observation is needed.

The elevator carries him down to the SOLDIER floor, and he finds it unpleasantly busy. There is a crowd in front of the training room, SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds vying for a view inside. They're almost all babbling amongst themselves.

"He never trains here - I thought the virtual scenarios were kinda beneath him."

Yes, Hojo thinks with some satisfaction, they usually are. Though Hojo had been thinking about adding to the programming, to bring the virtual training chamber up to actually usable standards, for now it has very little to offer for someone like Sephiroth, a truly superior specimen.

"Do you think they're recording him? Do you think we'll get to see the recordings?!"

A very worthy thought, it's good to see there's some sense among the experimental subjects. There is much the lower ranks of SOLDIER could learn from Sephiroth.

"Did you see what he was wearing?"

Bah. "Will all of you move!" Professor Hojo says, irritated now, and watches with a displeased curl of his mouth as the SOLDIERs finally notice him. "You are in my way."

"Professor Hojo!"

"The professor is here!"

"How scary -"

"Sorry, Professor -"

Hojo waits until they've cleared the way, wondering if he should take a firmer hand in the program. Clearly standards have been slipping since the time he was directing the program personally. Sadly, he doesn't have time to manage grunts these days, there's much more valuable work to be done, but perhaps a message to Deusericus would set things to rights.

Something to deal with later.

Hands clasped behind his back, Hojo enters the training room observatory. The technicians both quickly rush to greet him, and he waves them off, walking up to the viewing window.

Sephiroth is performing Wutai sword forms, slowly moving between stances and attacks, with all the grace and precision Hojo has come to expect from him.

And he is, indeed, putting off enough energy for a Limit Break - even though the holographic setting, the glow around him is visible.

"What have you recorded?" Hojo asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Everything from the moment he entered, sir," the overeager technician tells him while the other one fumbles with a pad, handing over the latest printout. "His level is showing in the low fifties range!"

Low fifties? "Then he's not at Limit Break," Hojo scowls, scanning through the readings.

"But, sir, the signature glow -"

"Sephiroth's resting level is forty eight," Hojo says impatiently. "His Limit Breaks regularly go to the upper seventies and beyond. Whatever this is, it's not a Limit Break."

But it is most definitely something. The energy output of Sephiroth's little session started uneven and then slowly levelled out as he continued. It had even decreased, which normally would be cause for concern, but seeing the steady, regular energy output now…

Hojo smiles, feeling the beginnings of a giggle in his gut.

Clearly, Sephiroth is figuring something out about himself and his enhancements. He has unlocked a new ability, a sixth sense, perhaps even a whole different way of controlling energy. Something he inherited from his mother, but wasn't yet able to use.

There is only one explanation. The incident in the lab has pushed Sephiroth forward. The excess Mako or the moment he was technically dead - one or both together had broken through a human limitation.

The experiment has evolved.

Ick.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #svsss #professor hojo #Sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which cruel fate leads you and jungkook to bright places.

> fluff, a little twinge of angst? / wc: 4.2k

> warnings: none really. but if you’ve read the grocery store drabble, you really get lost in this one. hehe

note: oc!!! stop making him worry like this. cries in i love sweet boy jungkook sooo much. + i enjoyed writing this :[ <3 listened to cigs after sex while i was at it. and as you can tell i got very. carried away. scratches head. researching about pokemon bread was also kind of fun?

—

love is selfless— it’s what they often say. however, on his way home from work, jungkook finds himself admitting his ugly truth: he is selfish. when he arrives at your shared space, he will tangle his limbs with yours and let you drag him across the floor to wherever it is you need to go. he will hold on to you, and never let go. he will abandon the concept of time at the farthest corner of his mind, along with his exhaustive musings and responsibilities. instead, he will be consumed by you.

and sometimes, he finds that the telepathy connecting the two of you is baffling.

because he’s definitely not thinking about anything else but you. he’s scouring the entire apartment for any trace of life, but you’re nowhere to be found. the bed is still made. the bathroom lights are off. the pillows on the couch are organized. the center table is spotless. the kitchen is clean. he opens the trash bin, and the last thing tossed in there is still the egg tray he discarded this morning. he checks the laundry room, but the only clothes of yours in the laundry basket are from yesterday.

he ends up deciding that you’re not playing hide-and-seek with him like he originally thought. he sits on the counter top, anxiously playing with his lipring as he calls your number. again. and again. and again.

you did tell him earlier that you were going to visit the library, but it already closed an hour ago, so you should be home by now. moreover, if you were going to drop by other places, you would’ve updated him that you’d be home later at night. but you didn’t. the last text you sent him was a captured photo of page 73, an overview about thyme. you reminded him that he once mentioned that he wanted to grow some herbs in your balcony, so you’re doing some old-fashioned research about them in the library.

and thank heavens you answer the call on his fifth try, because he’s about to have a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

“jungkook!”

not to be dramatic, but if he was standing, his knees would’ve collapsed on the tiled floor at the sound of your voice. he swallows the lump in his throat, breathes deeply to unload the weight sitting on his chest.

“where are you?”

“oh, right! about that-” you chuckle nervously, and he can already imagine you tapping your foot against the floor. “wait. let me just-”

“how long? i can’t wait. i miss you. tell me where you are and i’ll pick you up.” he hops off the counter, making a beeline to the front door.

“yes, pick me up. please. i’m not sure where i am exactly but i just checked and my location is still turned on with you.”

oh shit. the location feature. why didn’t he think of that? and what do you mean by-

he pauses on his tracks, car keys back in his hand not even twenty minutes since he got off his car. “baby, how do you not know where you are?”

“uhm, i fell asleep in the bus . . . then i panicked and got off because i thought i missed my stop. but you’re not gonna believe what happened next!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers massaging his temple because he has a bad feeling about this. “okay. try me.”

“i realized i actually got on the wrong bus. stupid, right?” you giggle through the phone speaker, and it’s both endearing and ridiculous that you can still laugh in this situation.

nevermind that, he’s just relieved that you’re safe.

“i walked for a while and found this convenience store with a charging station. i emptied my battery trying to book a taxi but none accepted me!”

your whiny voice makes him smile, although he looked forward to hearing it more when he planned to be disgustingly clingy and affectionate.

“i’ll go, baby. just wait for me there, okay?” he presses the down button, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“okaaay.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

he puts you on speaker mode when he enters, checking on your location to see how far you’ve strayed from home. you got on the wrong bus. no mistake about that.

“you’re an hour and three minutes away.”

he hears you choke out a cough from the other line, most probably on a drink. “an hour?! by foot, right?”

“no,” he chuckles. late night drives with you aren’t new, so he doesn’t mind it one bit. “by car.”

silence fills the air for a few seconds. “then i’ll drive on the way back. i’m about to eat ramyeon so i’ll be energized!”

“let’s see if i get too tired to drive. just stay on the phone for me, okay?”

“wait- i’m hungry. need to go put hot water in my noodles. let’s switch to video call.”

when he accepts the video call, he’s greeted by the candy and chocolate shelf in landscape view. you probably propped up your phone on the charging station, so he adjusts his phone’s position to match yours. and you . . . are nowhere to be found. again.

he’s already driving out on the road when you appear on his screen. you smile at him, waving the chopsticks in your hand.

“i’ll do a live mukbang for you in a few minutes.”

he takes a brief glance, memorizing the way you look before reverting his attention to the road. a small smile grows on his face, a huge wave of love flooding his system. “you look so pretty today.”

“thank you. it took me thirty minutes to pick out my outfit.” you chirp happily before revealing the hand hidden behind your back, holding up a special item you stumbled upon during your little adventure. “look what i found! do you want it?”

“what is it?” he asks as he makes a turn.

“team rocket’s pokemon bread. it’s chocolate.” you inspect the bread again to confirm that you’re correct. “it’s the last one on the shelf so i just bought it.”

his eyes widen in surprise, lips forming an ‘o’. he personally knows many people who have been visiting stores until the late hours to buy them. it’s all the rage nowadays.

“oh? you actually found one?!”

“don’t you think fate led me here for this?” you gush excitedly.

he finally stops at a red light, taking a good look at you with fondness. “you’re giving it to me?”

“yes. enjoy it, okay? i walked in boots for this.” you point at the camera threateningly.

so adorable. he misses you so much.

he obediently crosses his fingers to forge a promise. “i won’t leave a single crumb uneaten.”

“good boy,” you poke the camera as if you’re booping his nose. “i left my food too long. i’ll go get my overcooked ramyeon now.”

you disappear again, and he resumes his journey leading to you. you return moments later, devouring a cup of ramyeon. you’re holding it with some tissue paper. you were never really good with touching hot things— you drop them without thinking twice . . . which is a health hazard.

and it stays like that for a little while. as jungkook drives, he looks at you and the navigation guide every now and then. just to make sure he’s turning to the correct lefts and rights as the voice says; and to give himself the assurance that you didn’t stray somewhere else again. you, on the other hand, is too focused on your food to give your boyfriend a smidge of attention. that’s how mukbang asmr is, right? only eating sounds?

the cashier is probably thinking of you funny for eating infront of your boyfriend via video call in a public place. you couldn’t care less. it’s been a long day, and staying still in this small corner of the earth feels oddly comforting.

you’re in the middle of sipping down the leftover broth at the bottom of the cup when you hear movement from the aisle behind you. being nosy as you are, you find yourself taking a peek. you take quick and light steps back to jungkook to tell him about what you saw.

“babe, they’re restocking the pokemon breads. i’m the only person left here.” you whisper with one hand covering your mouth from the side, as if you’re sharing a secret. “i’ll buy more.”

he unconsciously copies the gesture and the volume of your voice. “do they have the other flavors too?”

“yes. keep driving safe. be right back.”

you dash to the other aisle, and jungkook and the long row of kitkats play a staring contest in the middle of traffic yet again.

familiar with your nature, it is entertaining to watch you participate in the pokemon bread hunt out of the blue. very on-brand and-

“so competitive.” he laughs to himself.

—

“hi!” you beam at the camera, hugging the paper bag inhabited by your new prized possessions. “uh, we have eight in total. i bought one of each flavor so there’s two team rocket now. and three jigglypuff bread just because- um-”

jungkook stifles his laughter. oh, of course you did.

“it’s so cute. i couldn’t help myself.” you sigh, slightly feeling guilty. other people do hoard them and buy everything off the shelf, so you think about that to feel less bad about taking all the jigglypuffs.

fuck. if you’re being this cute over a jigglypuff bread, he might just have to join everyone and do convenience store raids, too.

“you’re kind for still leaving some. i saw a person in the internet buy all the pokemon breads in the store they went to.”

“right?! i saw that, too.” you exclaim, relieved that you had the same thought as him.

“did you get me my pikachu, though?”

“of course. pikachu must always be present!” you answer proudly as you unplug your phone after seeing that it’s already at 50%. “i’m getting bored here. there’s a thrift shop just beside this, so i’ll go see if they’re still opened.”

jungkook drums his fingers on the steering wheel, following a beat he’s making up on the spot. “alright. i’m only fifteen minutes away, so don’t go anywhere else.”

”yes, sir.”

“and don’t end the call.”

“i won’t. you’ll miss me.”

he clicks his tongue before sighing, expressing his frustrating sorrow. “i already do.”

—

the air from outside is warmer, and it engulfs you the second you pull the door open. it makes your skin feel sticky and uncomfortable. the thought of going back inside enters your mind, but the idea gets shot down immediately after. might get tempted to buy more bread.

the thrift shop heavily contrasts the vivid conveniece store. there is no door. racks of pre-loved clothing greet you by the entrance, leading to more of them inside. a lone warm lightbulb illuminates the cramped space, hanging in the middle of the dirty white ceiling. and the smell. oh, the smell— it causes nostalgia to rush throughout your body.

a woman emerges from the wooden counter. she’s in her 50s, if you had the guess. you make eye-contact, and her kind eyes eases your uncertainty about whether you’re allowed to enter or not.

“you can still look around if you want. i’m just cleaning before i close up.”

“oh, thank you!” you politely bow before approaching the long rack of shirts and long-sleeves against the wall. you’ve been eyeing them since the moment you arrived.

left with no other choice, you leave the paper bag of pokemon breads on the floor, under one of the racks. you carefully lean your phone against a shoe on the shelf above it, just a little higher than your eye-level. you smile unbeknownst to yourself. your jungkook looks extra handsome when driving. while he admittedly has a short attention span, he’s very focused on the road when he’s behind the wheel.

you’re already browsing through the clothes when he glances at his phone. he can only see half your face, but he also hears your fast hands pushing back the hanger of the ones that don’t capture your interest.

your love for shopping doubled when you entered a relationship with jungkook, because purchasing items you think he like or need also brings you an unexplainable joy. it’s not limited to clothes or accessories. for example, you bought him white and blue acrylic paint two months ago because you noticed that he used them all up for a project.

after more or less ten minutes, there are already two t-shirts and one sweater hanging on your forearm. one of the t-shirt is yours. it matches with one of your trousers that you barely wear.

you’ve walked past the camera frame when you stumble upon a black bomber jacket, looking so cool and brand-new, which explains why it’s a bit on the pricier side. and you know jungkook has a lot of other black jackets back at home, but you just can’t help yourself because it reminds you so much of him.

it’s so jungkook. you can’t allow it to live in another person’s closet.

you approach the counter with the clothes you picked out. the woman halts her sweeping outside, leaving the broom against the wall before wiping her hands on her long skirt, the floral print noticeably faded with time. you hastily grab the belongings you left unattended, putting your phone’s microphone on mute to keep your little surprise.

there’s no paper bills left in your wallet after spending all your money on food and clothes. with a grimace, you drop it inside your bag. you were only supposed to go to the library today, spend a little money on bus fare and lunch. perhaps, spontaneously add in a little snack in between. however, this is called spontaneity out of hand.

“are these for your boyfriend’s birthday?” the woman asks in a hushed, yet teasing, voice as she folds up the jacket.

two pairs of eyes fall on the phone you’re holding, and you smile sheepishly. “i’m trying to make everyday his birthday.”

“he’s very handsome. you better take good care of him!”

you cover your face in embarrassment, silently laughing. “we take good care of each other! he’s coming to pick me up because i couldn’t find a taxi.”

“oh dear, are you new here?” she stuffs the jacket in the big plastic bag, along with the other clothes you bought. “there’s barely any taxis here after 9pm. everyone just walks. many complaints about it, but good exercise for my rusty bones when they ask me.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time.” you wrap your left arm around the bag of clothes, sliding it off the counter until you’re carrying its full weight. “thank you again. have a great night! and stay healthy!”

you stumble on the single step leading outside because the weight of the breads and clothes are unbalanced. thankfully, you make it out of the shop without a scratch. the woman bids you a safe trip and picks up the broom, the melancholia of night-time quietness blanketing her home once again.

you look down at your phone to find that the video call with jungkook has ended, but before you can question him, a familiar voice sings your name from a close distance.

“jungkook!” you call out to him, crossing the distance between you in high spirits. “you really came for me!”

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “you really thought i’d leave you here stranded? you always make me worried.”

“i never do it on purpose.” you frown, shoulders sagged with guilt.

“that makes it more worrisome.” he breathes out a sigh. “come here. i missed you.”

“i want to hug you, but my hands are full.”

he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight embrace. he feels you give a chaste kiss to his jaw before leaning your cheek on his shoulder, and just like that, his anxiety melts away. your favorite perfume invades his sense of smell. as a person with a sensitive nose, many perfumes often give him a headache. he is in love with yours. it’s sweet and subtle; it feels like coming home.

“i was so excited to come home but you weren’t there.”

“i’m sorry for always making you worry. i’ll be more mindful next time.” you apologize to him with a kiss on the cheek, and you feel it rise against your lips when he smiles. “oh no, wait. the bread- they’re going to get all mushed up.”

he reluctantly untangles himself from you, taking away the heavy load you’re carrying without you having to ask. this is when you swiftly snatch the car keys from his hand.

“i want to drive this time.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief. “oh my god, thank you. i’m getting sleepy.”

—

it’s impossible not to quickly look over to the passenger seat when a bright flash fills the vehicle. surprise, surprise! instead of sleeping, jungkook is taking pictures of the packs of pokemon bread he eagerly arranged on his lap.

“that flash is brighter than the sun.”

he throws a thumbs-up with an overly enthusiastic voice. “samsung!”

you swear, every chance he gets he promotes thei-

“don’t you dare steal my jigglypuff.”

he raises his arms in surrender, making balloons with his cheeks. “i just didn’t know they were strawberry flavored. i’m tasting team rocket’s chocolate rolls first. namjoon-hyung likes it.”

he carefully tears it from the other side to keep team rocket’s image unharmed. he takes a bite from the choco roll, and feeds the remaining half to you.

“mhmmm.” he hums, eyebrows furrowed in sheer delight. “it’s so good? i’m glad you bought another.”

he divides another roll in the middle. he munches on his share as he waits for you to finish your first bite. while he does as such, he suddenly perks up when he remembers the story he was supposed to tell you.

“i saw a group of guys enter the convenience store when i arrived earlier. they were looking for pokemon bread, too.”

“how’d you know?”

“i heard one of them say ‘this one better have the gastly bread or i will cry.’” he imitates the stranger’s deep voice speaking in a whiny manner. “it was funny.”

“then he’s probably on his way home crying now.” your giggles create a harmony.

that store did not have gastly bread, unfortunately.

—

“moment of truth.”

jungkook locates the pokemon sticker after you finish the rest of the bread. you wait with bated breath as he unveils the first out of eight stickers.

he gasps as he comes face-to-face with- “it’s snorlax! number 143 . . . 143.” he freezes as he scans his memory for the special meaning of the number code. “doesn’t that mean ‘i love you’?”

“it does,” you confirm with a grin. “i told you it was fate! isn’t it the best love confession?”

while living with you is a type of intimacy he values greatly, and protects everyday, getting lost in unfamiliar places with you has a charm of its own. it’s one of the days when he allows himself to say: jungkook, you lived well today.

he presses the sticker on your cheek, giving you a kiss through snorlax. “i love you, too.”

—

“since we can’t finish all these bread tonight, we’ll open the rest tomorrow.” jungkook announces as he sets down the plastic bag on the floor. in the meantime, snorlax is kept in his wallet for safety purposes.

he carries the clothes to his lap next, curious eyes and curious hands taking out the items one by one. he squeaks a sound of amazement. “you found quite a lot in that shop.”

“they had a lot of good stuff. i got the dark green-ish shirt. the rest are for you.”

he holds the baby blue sweater by the shoulders, letting the rest of it unfold and hang suspended in the air. “this one is so pretty.”

“oh! i really like that one. might borrow it a lot.”

“you’d look pretty in it. especially in the winter.” he says fondly. the mental image of you wearing it surrounded by snow is making him miss the season that just passed.

you pout. “but i got it for you. so wear it more than me.”

“i will. i want to wear it to work right after laundry day.” you beam in contentment, and he pats your head appreciatively. “you’re so fucking cute, baby. thank you for buying it for me.”

the black jacket catches his attention next, and the galaxies in his eyes sparkle as he takes in its the details and overall appearance. “this is totally my style! how does it look so brand-new?”

“right? it’s a steal so i had to buy it!”

jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a conscious effort to restrain himself from attacking you with hugs and kisses. buying treats and gifts for each other on random days— it’s grown to be a second nature in your relationship. this is why you always go on trips on birthdays and anniversaries instead of buying big gifts. he loves that there’s no pressure, and the element of surprise never fades. he loves that he knows what you like, and you know what he likes. a huge part of what makes him who he is has permanently resided in who you are, and vice versa. he will carry you with him for the rest of his life, just like the food he learned to love because his childhood friend forced him to have a bite, and how he adds a bar on top of the letter J because it reminds him of the number 7.

so from now on, he will refuse to wear any other jacket but the one you bought him, and he will think of you every time the sky is baby blue.

“i think this is going to be one of those clothes i’d wear all the time. like the first sneakers you got me.”

“oh god,” you chuckle at the old memory. if people didn’t know he was rich, they would’ve thought he only had one pair of shoes. “you really wore those out.”

“that’s how much i loved it!”

“okay, but you need to wash it before wearing it.”

“i’ll wake up earlier to do laundry.” he starts planning out his day inside his head as he folds up the clothes to put back inside the bag. but then he traces his thoughts two hours backwards, and he is reminded physical affection he’s been craving the whole day.

“can we cuddle when we get home?”

“of course, my love.” you raise an eyebrow in question. “when do we not cuddle?”

“i just missed you a lot today.” he sighs, turning over to his side to look at you. perhaps, also to memorize the street lights reflecting on your face, and how your beige cardigan has slipped down your shoulder. oh, the urge to write a song at this magical moment.

“what’s wrong? did anything bad happen today?” pure concern adorns your voice. you hate it when he’s sad. so much. you want to shield him from everything bad in the world.

“nothing.” his face starts to feel flushed, one of the dead giveaways that he’s emotional. “i just love you, that’s all. you get it, right?”

you have never been more grateful to meet a light that just turned red.

you solely focus on him momentarily, combing his hair with your fingers because it always helps him to relax. “feeling a little overwhelmed, is that it?”

he only nods as a reply. he catches your hand in his to give your knuckles a kiss, plushy lips caressing the tough bones of your doting hand.

“we’re almost home. wanna cuddle in the bathtub?” you propose when you recognize the familiar scenery through his window. the promising comfort and safety of your home causes exhaustion to come crashing down on you. your muscles are suffering the consequences of your actions, and therefore, are asking for compensation.

jungkook seems to be relishing in the idea, doe eyes sparkling instead of shining with unshed tears. “please, that sounds nice. but i’m sorry for when i fall asleep in there.”

—

you laugh nervously as you enter your parking lot. you do have your license, but you don’t drive very often. maybe three times a month at most. you find driving to be energy consuming despite being seated, so you much prefer commuting because it also serves as your rest time before and after attending to your duties.

“i need to reverse park before we can get into the bathtub, so you have to help me.”

and yes, additionally, you just simply hate reverse parking with burning passion.

“why do you hate reverse parking so much?” your boyfriend asks out of curiosity.

good question.

“i know we have cameras now, but i’m still always scared of bumping into other cars.”

he flashes you his old-fashioned captivating smirk, resting his hand behind the driver’s seat. what makes it funnier is that you’re not even looking. you’re too preoccupied with finding your parking space.

he raises his eyebrows teasingly, doe eyes turning into small slits as they do when he’s playfully flirting. “you don’t have to be scared of such thing, baby. i’ll pay for the damages.”

“you’re jinxing it! i’ll definitely mess up that ferrari now!”

—

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topguncortez · 11 months

Text

A Supposed Miracle || Bradley Bradshaw

Top Gun Celebration | Main masterlist

synopsis: A year ago you survived the unimaginable, but you weren't sure if it was actually the miracle they said it was. Written as part of my 1 Year TG Celebration:)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: Uranium Mission, description of injuries, mentions of PTSD, amnesia, paralyzation, cursing

prompts: "I don’t care if we are fighting, or if you’re mad at me, I’m still gonna be there for you.”

Rooster wasn’t sure what he was doing. What had possessed him now, of all days, to show up at your front door, he wasn’t quite sure. The last time he had seen you, you were barely alive. Blood seeping from your body, your temperature near dangerous levels, breaths so shallow and pulse so weak, Rooster had to press his ear against your chest just to hear your heart beating.

When the two of you were rescued, you were whisked off into the belly of the ship while he was being flocked to by sailors commending him for a good job.

“I didn’t do anything right,” He remembers saying to Maverick, as he sat on the cold metal exam table.

“Yes you did, you both survived-”

“I paralyzed her!”

Rooster knew that it wasn’t all his fault, but he had no choice but to move you. You were sitting ducks in the middle of the snow-covered field, wearing your green flight suits. You had cried and begged for him to leave you there, telling him you would rather “die on the battlefield in glory” than live a life where you could no longer walk, or take care of yourself. But Rooster wasn’t about to do that when an enemy helicopter arrived and opened fire on the two of you. He didn’t think twice as he picked you up in his arms, despite your cries and hits against his body as he carried you into a wooded area.

“You fucking dick, Bradshaw! You should’ve left me to die!”

“You can blame me for saving your life later.”

Three days. Seventy-Two Hours. Four thousand three hundred twenty minutes. two hundred fifty-nine thousand two hundred seconds.

That’s how long the two of you were out in the snow-covered woods. Both of your beacons had been crushed when you intercepted the SAMs to save one another. Rooster, who had merely a concussion and some bruised ribs did his best to try and keep you alive. He wasn’t sure where all the blood was coming from, too scared to cut away your flight suit to find out. He did his best to stop the bleeding, switching from packing snow against your body, to pressing a hot wire against the exposed skin. The two of you split an MRE that somehow managed to survive the wreckage. He could remember you making a joke about it.

“Not sure if we should be even eating something that can survive a jet fire.”

But Rooster made sure to save the last Twizzler bites in the package for you. He had hardly slept, forcing himself to stay awake to make sure you were still alive, and keeping a watchful eye for any wolves or other wildlife. He knew that his defense against a wolf was going to be useless, but he had gone over in his head what he would do to make sure you lived. On the last night, you were out there, Rooster held you tightly in his arms, the both of you coming to the realization that you might not live to see another sunrise out in the woods.

“You need to be the one to tell him,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your skin was sunburned and your lips chapped from dehydration, “He won’t try and fight you.”

“He hates me, Reap, he always has,” Rooster said, gently rocking you back and forth.

“Jake doesn’t hate you,” You shook your head, “He is intimidated by you. He knows that you are the better pilot. But if it’s anyone else that tells him I didn’t make-” Your voice broke, “That I didn’t make it. . . he’ll drink himself to death. He’ll want to know everything.”

Rooster looked up at the night sky. All the stars seemed to be out, shining brightly above the two of you.

“I loved you first,” Your voice pulled Rooster away from his analysis of the stars, “You broke me when you left. Didn’t say why or where…you just left.”

“And I have regretted that day for all my life,” Rooster said.

He could so vividly remember seeing your acceptance letter to USNA sitting on your desk when he came home from one of his classes at the local community college. He didn’t even know you applied, let alone were interested in the Navy. But he was so mad, so angry that you had gotten something that he had wanted his whole life. Instead of waiting for you to come home from work, he quickly packed a bag and left, not so much as leaving a note to explain. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that the two of you had finally reunited.

And now, you were going to die in the arms of your first love.

“I love you, Y/N,” Rooster said, and he felt your body tense for a moment, before it relaxed in his arms, “I have always loved you. I have never stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you.”

You squeezed Rooster’s hand, “I… Love…”

Rooster looked down at your face, seeing the light go out in your eyes, “No… No, no, hey,” He shook your body, patting your cheek lightly, “You don’t get to do this,” He laid your body gently down on the ground, placing his hands in the middle of your chest and starting compressions, “C’mon, Reaper! C’mon! Don’t…” Rooster looked up at the sky, “You son of bitch, you give her back to me! You give her back to me right fucking now!”

— — —

They called it a miracle. But it felt like anything but that to you.

You spent a whole month, unconscious in the ICU in England, before you were moved back to the US, where you spent another two weeks hooked up to machines. When you woke up, you had no recollection of the last several years of your life. You didn’t know that the blonde man sitting next to you was apparently your fiance, or that you had graduated top of your class at TopGun, or hell, that you had even made it to TopGun, to begin with. You didn’t know what had happened out in the woods, other than that you were paralyzed from the waist down, and you would never fly again.

The only person that you did recognize was Maverick, and even those memories were a little hazy. He had helped you get settled into your house (which had been totally renovated to be wheelchair accessible). Your fiance, whose name you learned was Jake, helped you get reacclimated to most things. He was nice and was doing everything he could to help gain some memories back. Over time you remembered certain things like Jake’s birthday, or that you had a 1972 mustang mach 1 sitting in Maverick’s hangar, or flashes of the last mission you were on. But the most prominent memory in your mind was of coming home to an empty house and that blue Bronco gone from the driveway.

You had asked Jake about Rooster several times, and he just danced around the subject. He told you that Rooster was a part of the mission, and he had taken a different position instead of staying in North Island with the rest of the team. You also remembered that when Jake lied, his right eye would twitch.

You had spent the better part of that year in intense physical therapy. Your doctor believed that you could probably regain some function and learn to walk with assistance. You thought that hell week at USNA was hard, but nothing would prepare you for this journey. Day after day, Jake would pick you up from therapy physically and mentally exhausted. Learning how to walk again at age twenty-seven was a lot harder than toddlers made it look.

Between your doctor, various therapists, Jake and Maverick, by the time the one-year mark of the mission came around, you were able to stand and walk with the help of your walker. Being able to graduate from physical therapy felt better than any promotion you might’ve received from the Navy.

But now here you were, a year to the day later, staring at the man who had been constantly on your mind. You had actually started to believe Jake’s story about Rooster taking a job somewhere else because, for the last year, he had been totally MIA. Jake had taken you to the Hard Deck and out several times with the dagger squad in the past year, and every time, Rooster wasn’t there. Nobody mentioned him. Nobody even talked about him if you were around. There had been no texts, no calls, and no letters from him in the past year.

You were actually starting to wonder if maybe he was dead.

“So you are alive,” You scoffed, “Congrats.”

“Reap-”

“No,” You shook your head, “You don’t get to fucking call me that. Do you even know the hell I have been through in the past year?!”

“I’m sorry,” Rooster said simply, “I just couldn’t face you knowing that I put you in-”

“A wheelchair?”

He sucked in a breath and looked down at his shoes. He looked a lot like the man you remembered. Sandy brown hair, sunkissed tan skin, those sweet baby cow eyes that you had fallen in love with. He was wearing a pair of Levi’s that hugged his thighs just right, and one of those infamous Hawaiian shirts that used to belong to his dad. His Rayban caravans dangled off the chain of his dog tags that were tucked underneath his white tank top.

Rooster licked his lips and looked up at you, for probably the first time since the standoff had started. You had cut your hair, it was shorter than what he remembered, sitting right above your shoulders. He could see that your face had some new-age lines to it. Your arms now had more black and colored ink than clear skin on them. And your eyes, those once soft and loving eyes, were cold and hard as you glared at him.

“I’m sorry,” Rooster said again.

You shook your head, “Why are you here?”

“Because I-” Rooster still wasn’t sure why he was here. He thought he would have more time to figure that answer out before you asked, “Because I wanted to see you. I heard that you are coming tonight and I-”

You scoffed, “So you decide now, a year later, that you wanna show your face?”

“Look,” Rooster was trying to keep his cool, but his patience was starting to wear thin with you, “I don’t care if you hate me. I don’t care if we are fighting, or if you’re mad at me, I’m still gonna be there for you.”

“But you-”

“You weren’t the only one who lost something out there!” Rooster yelled. You looked taken aback by the sudden increase in his voice, “Okay? You weren’t the only one out there for three days. You weren’t the only one. . . planning a fucking funeral in your head. You weren’t the only one who lost something out there.” You looked down at your lap, hearing Rooster take several deep breaths to calm himself. He knew that he fucked up but not coming to see you sooner, but he wasn’t sure how he could face you.

“Did you tell Jake to lie to me?” You looked up at the man.

“No,” Rooster shook his head, “I asked him about you almost every day for about three months. I wanted to know how you were, what you were doing if there was any update on your injury, or if you gained your memory back, but Jake just kept it to a minimum. Eventually, he told me to stop asking.”

“Fucking Jake,” You rolled your eyes, “I broke up with him about three months after I woke up. It was just too hard to pretend to love a man when I hardly knew him.” Rooster nodded, “But to make you feel better. . . I asked about you too.”

Rooster clenched his jaw, trying to push back the tears in his eyes. You held your hand out to him, and he walked forward, placing his large hand in your smaller one. You squeezed it, just like you did when you died in his arms a year ago.

“I’m sorry.”

The two of you let out a soft chuckle as you spoke at the same time.

“You first,” Rooster said.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you when you found me. I just knew right away I was fucked and I didn’t see any point in living a life where I can’t fly. But I realized how fucked and selfish that was to tell you that. You saved my life, Bradley, a-and. . .” You blinked a couple of times, trying to find the right words, “Thank you for that.”

Rooster’s jaw dropped slightly, and he gave your hand a squeeze, “I’m sorry for being too scared to come and see you. I let my own fear and self-hatred get in the way. And you saved my life too.”

You smiled at him, “Do you want to come in for a drink?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @bradshawseresinbabe @Munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @Sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @genius2050

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I just wanna say a quick shoutout to @a-reader-and-a-writer for sending in this request and being just an all around awesome person. you guys don't see it on here, but I'm in a discord with Vee and she is one of the most reliable, and knowledgeable, and nicest people I have ever had the opportunity to interact with. I can always count on Vee to pop in with an answer to my questions or a funny one-liner or angst that hurts so deliciously good. She's an amazing writer and friend and fandom-dweller (. . . yeah that's the word). She's always so positive and works hard to create an awesome and safe space on her blog, on the dash, in the server. She's just amazing <3

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the-common-cowgirl · 7 months

Text

Greater of Two Evils - Part 2

Summary: Aemond’s presence looms within you like a bad drug. You can’t deny him, you can’t run from him. He confines you to your own, private circle of the seven hells like you’re his property. His broodmare. His trophy.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit, +18, MDNI

Warnings: Modern AU, DUBCON, Smut (fingering, p in v), manipulation, pregnancy test, forced pregnancy, misogyny, swearing, defensive dissociation, DD;DNE

Word Count: 4K

A/N: I wasn’t originally going to make this a series but y’all liked it soooo…..

Series Masterlist

Negative.

“Fuck yes,” you nearly cried as you held up the pregnancy test in disbelief. Covering your mouth, trying not to draw attention to yourself in the apartment’s bathroom. Your brother was home; on the phone and upset about a deal a certain politician had blocked.

You were so happy though. You squealed into your hand as you looked at the door, hoping he wouldn’t come barging in and wondering the reason for your happy squeals.

He couldn’t know. Fuck. He couldn’t know.

Taking the test box and the strip, rolling it in toilet paper, you snuck to your own room down the hall without a second glance from your brother in a heated argument in the kitchen with Gods knows who.

You stuffed the rolled up test strip and box into your backpack before grabbing your Political Science book. You had a plan to throw the test away in a University trash bin and if your brother questioned you, you’d have an alibi: Political Science study group, meeting at 4 a.m. this afternoon, in twenty minutes. But thankfully, you went unnoticed as his discussion was heated and he paced the kitchen.

You hadn’t waited long for the bus -you had refused your brother’s offer of a private driver when you started University and for once, he accepted your refusal - before a strange black car pulled up. With no one around in the broad daylight, you weren’t frightened but you did take a step backward as the back passenger’s side window rolled down and then, your heart sank when you saw familiar silver locks.

“Get in,” Aemond commanded.

“I’m waiting for my bus.”

“Where are you going?” He nearly chuckled as if he knew you didn’t actually have a study group to get to.

“None of your business.” You looked anywhere but the car, trying to stop the bus that was due to come.

“Get in or I’ll have my people send pictures of you buying a pregnancy test to every media outlet in Dorne.”

Fuck.

You had no option but to open the door and slide into the car next to Aemond. Unfortunately, there was a dividing wall between the driver and the backseat and you grew nervous in Aemond’s presence alone. Silently hoping he just wanted information on your brother.

“What was the result?” He looked at you expectantly as you stared at the wall in front of you.

Oh Gods, oh Gods, no.

“Negative.” Cold, terrified.

“Hmm,” unamused, as if you told him a bad joke. He then placed a hand on your knee and every hair on your body stood at attention.

“And what did your brother think of my little game?”

He was referring to blocking your brother’s trade deal, not backing it, making it fall through.

“He was on the phone when I left,” seeing no reason to lie to the literal Devil, he’d find out one way or another. “He’s,” you paused, gulping as Aemond moved up your thigh, “angry.”

Aemond let out one dark chuckle, “Good.” He looked out the window, the car was driving aimlessly, “Where were you going?”

His question, this time, proved an opportunity to escape so you gave him the same lie you had prepared for your brother. “Political Science study group.”

Before you could think, Aemond grabbed your backpack and pulled it into his lap. You were too stunned to reach for it as he opened the bag and pulled out your Political Studies textbook. It was a heavy book, thick with a hardcover. If you didn’t hold it in two hands, your hand would cramp but Aemond, of course, held it in one, turning it over to confirm it was as you had said. He hummed and set the heavy book aside before digging through your bag to find the rolled up pregnancy test box with the negative strip inside.

Fuck.

Aemond procured the single lined strip and carefully inspected it before scoffing, “You’re going to a study group with a pregnancy test in your backpack?” He looked at you carefully, waiting for you to explain yourself.

You gulped, “Well, I-”

“Stop,” he cut, putting the negative test in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, “I don’t want to hear your lies. Driver-” he rolled a small window down and leaned forward, “Take us back to her apartment complex.” Aemond grabbed your phone from between your thighs and unlocked it, showing your face. Again, you were too stunned to do anything in retaliation, feeling like a dumb little girl in Aemond’s presence. You could see that he added your number to his phone and sent you a text, handing your phone back to you.

Tomorrow. 8pm. Tell your brother you’re going to a fall dance. Wear the green dress.

You looked from your phone to Aemond, wondering what he wanted you to do tomorrow and a pit started to form in your stomach. “My brother will never let me go to a dance.”

He chuckled, “He’ll be too preoccupied with tomorrow that he won’t care.” The car rolled to a stop, you looked out your window to see your apartment complex and every fiber in your being made you want to leap out of the car as fast as you could but you knew, deep down, it wasn’t safe to show Aemond how scared you were. He seemed to be a man that fed off the fear of others. You slowly opened the door and stepped out with your bag, phone and book - not entirely everything you had when you first entered the vehicle.

“Remember,” Aemond called from the car and you leaned down to look at him, “do as I say. Green dress. 8pm. Look presentable.”

You didn’t know why but his last words seemed to cut you deeper, look presentable. Did you not look so now? And why did you care what this psychopath thinks? Why did he have this invisible hold on you?

You didn’t know, but you nodded and watched the car drive away.

The next evening, you had showered, done your hair into loose waves, and fixed your makeup sultry but subtle. You paired everything with red lipstick and finally, it was time to slip into that damn green dress. The green dress that started everything. As you pulled it on, you felt your stomach lurch with the memories of that night. That night when Aemond played a game with you in the event space for the public’s eye only to play an even more, more sinister game with you upstairs. Gods, you were an idiot for allowing him to play with you. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him do it again this time, but silently wondered how serious you were as you looked at yourself in the full length mirror of your bedroom. You looked ravishing, honestly, and you wondered why you let yourself look this nice with a man that had done what he did to you.

Before you could think deeper about your situation, your phone pinged with a text.

Outside. Don’t keep me waiting.

You grabbed your handbag and walked into the apartment where your brother was sitting in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entirety of the west wall of the apartment. “I’m going out,” you called and your brother only raised a glass of whiskey in reply, not taking a glance your way as he worked away on his laptop.

He was stressed. He only drank at home when he was stressed. Whatever Aemond had done to make your brother’s night miserable had worked. You wondered what all Aemond had a hand in. He did not seem to be like a regular politician, or really, what you believed politicians should be.

Walking out of the apartment complex, you spotted a black sport’s car parked where the larger black car had been the day prior and you wondered if Aemond had driven himself.

Confirming your suspicions, a silver head got out of the driver’s seat and walked around to the passenger’s side to open the door for you. He was in all black, adorned with silver accents. His long silver hair was pulled into a low bun and his suit jacket was slim fitting. He looked hot. Of course, he always did.

You slipped into the passenger’s side but not without asking, “Where are we going?”

Aemond chuckled, “To make us official,” before shutting the door. You gulped in dread at his meaning of that comment. He slid into the driver’s seat beside you and started to drive. You noticed he was an aggressive, defensive driver, which was on par with everything else about him. “You’re not going to say anything that would indoctrinate me.” You started to sweat, worrying about where you were going. “Not if you want your brother to have a job tomorrow.”

You looked at Aemond this time, “What did you do?”

He chuckled and kept his eye peeled on the road, his large, pointy nose shielding his scar from view. “Rhoynar Industries is looking at a major split if Targ Co. keeps getting intercepted by failed trade legislation.”

You took in a deep breath that filled your lungs soothingly, worrying for your brother. “You’ve got your hands in a lot of different things don't you? It’s not just politics.”

Aemond’s hooded gaze flits over your silky green dress from your collarbone, to your breasts, to your knee at the slit of the fabric. His large, warm hand comes to rest on your bare knee and your hairs stand on end. “By the end of the night, I’m sure they’ll be in you too.”

HIs promise was revolting but for some reason, your body betrayed you and you felt a slight twinge of heat in your core.

He pulled up outside a fancy, five-star restaurant you’ve eaten at with your brother once before on a work dinner. Opening his door and giving his keys to the valet, you wait for him to come around and open the door for you, trying your best to please him and make him look like the perfect gentleman from the very start so maybe tonight, he’d just drop you off and leave you alone. You walk together toward the front of the restaurant, your arm wrapped snugly around his as he gives his last name and a waiter escorts you through the building to a private dining room where you notice some other silver headed people. Aemond pushes your chair as you sink down into it, only to sit beside you. A dark haired man is sitting next to you on your left and he offers his name, “Criston Cole,” before you offer him your own.

He eyes you suspiciously, that is, until Aemond leans forward and addresses him, “Mr. Cole.” It’s cold. Aemond is always cold but this is colder.

Criston’s lips thin, “Aemond.” Not, Mr. Targaryen, Aemond. Something akin to resentment was shared between those two men in their simple words and long stares.

Aemond’s hand snaked around your waist and he leaned in, “Be good,” he warned. You started to sweat.

“Aemond, when can we expect this trade legislation to be resolved?” A brown, curly haired man said from across the table. Smiling between you and Aemond suspiciously, as if he knew something that no one else in the room did.

Aemond straightened, seemingly all eyes were on him, “Roynar Industries is currently under a little….”he chose his word carefully, chuckling softly before he said it, “heat. We are expecting it to be resolved if all goes well tonight.”

Another silver haired man leaned in, resting his elbows on the table, “And what are we banking this on? If all goes well tonight with whom?”

You shifted in your seat, uneasy. “I believe my date’s brother is currently working on that.”

And suddenly, all eyes were on you. Heat pooled in your cheeks. Embarrassed and stunned, unsure what to say. It felt like the members of, what you believe Targ Co, were staring at you for several minutes, waiting. Knowing you’re different and also, the frenemy.

Finally, you procured a thought, “Yes, he’s working hard tonight.” You grabbed your water glass and sipped it slowly, hoping that your simple sentence would be satisfactory.

The silver haired man across the table chuckled, “Your date is the sister to an exec at Rhoynar? Isn’t that a little bit of a conflict of interest for you?”

“I don’t see why that concerns you Daemon.” Aemond’s tone was flat with finality and although the older silver haired man seemed like he would like to go on about this, he decided against it for whatever reason.

Dinner was served. Aemond had ordered for you. Lamb chops with mashed potatoes and green beans. A fancy version of a cheap meal, interesting. You did not eat, too sick with worry. Too worried to do the wrong thing. The group disbanded and said their goodbyes.

While you waited for the valet to bring Aemond’s car, you subconsciously rubbed your arms in the chill. Dorne was naturally a very hot place but the nights were cool. The brisk night air nipped at your exposed skin and suddenly, your arms were draped in Aemond’s coat. His scent surrounded you, his cologne spelled expensive, sharp, sultry, with a hint of cigarette smoke. You muttered a weak, “Thanks,” as he stepped around you and put his hand on your lower back as he guided you toward his car.

Ever the gentleman in public, he opened the door for you, allowing you to slip in gracefully before he walked around and slid in, firing up the loud engine and pulling away from the restaurant.

You had hoped you were good enough that he'd just bring you back home. You had hoped you were on a good date and played him up well, just wanting to go home. You had hoped you answered the questions you got perfectly and he’d let you go home.

But he didn’t.

Aemond pulled along the coast to a secluded area and you felt like you could cry.

Killing the engine, he stared over at you and you gazed down at your shoes. “You did good tonight,” he praised.

“Then let me go home,” you retorted almost angrily if you hadn’t been so scared.

Aemond chuckled and leaned over to you, grabbing the side of your face harshly and forcing you to look at him. You did and saw his eye was blown nearly black with lust, power, control. Barely any blue visible. “Get in the backseat, finish being a good girl and I’ll let you go home.”

You shivered as he released you, getting out of the car and wondering if it would be smart to just make a break for it, sprint as fast as you could down the coast. Could he chase you there? Was he faster than you on sand? You’d have to take off your heels beforehand and Aemond would know something was up then. But if you-

Your thoughts were cut short by him grabbing your forearm, looking down his nose at you, “Run then, run if you like. I like the chase.” Chills ran up your spine and you figured it would be safest to do what he said.

Aemond opened the door and sat in the backseat, pulling you atop him as he spread his legs and forced your legs over his own. He hiked up your dress to your hips unceremoniously and tore your underwear off you, making you gasp at how quickly and desperately he was working. He plunged two of his thick fingers inside you, making you whine in pain as you had not been prepared nor were the least amount of wet. Grasping his shoulders for purchase as he thrusted his digits inside you mercilessly.

“Please,” you begged, “please-gentler.” You knew you couldn’t beg for him to stop, he wouldn’t, but he might be kinder to you.

He purred a dark chuckle from his throat, looking at you through his hooded gaze. “Not my style baby,” pumping a few times even harder, “get used to it or don't. I don’t fucking care.” He leaned forward and sucked in your collarbone, neck, jawline, underneath your ear, and though, he did not ease up on your aching pussy, you did become wetter and wetter, relaxing around his and even pleasure building in your abdomen before he completely pulled out and away from you. His absence nearly made you whine and you immediately wondered what had come over you, whining for this demon’s fingers inside you again.

He pulled his throbbing, hard length with his freehand and pumped himself twice before lining up with your entrance then grasping your hips and forcing yourself down on him. You both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. You both sat in silence as the pair of you adjusted to the other. “Fuck yourself on me,” he demanded huskily, “ride my cock and I might let you come.”

The promise of an orgasm on the best dick you’ve ever taken outweighed the fact that it was attached to a monster and you began to spell your name on his dick, just like your friend in your English 400 course had said. You gripped his shoulders harshly, trying to steady yourself as you felt like everytime you sunk onto him again, you were splitting yourself in two; like a wedge hammering into a firewood. He’d make you burn. You knew it. You felt it in your very being as you left your morals and fears aside, your value and freedom aside, and gave in so quickly to this sadistic fucker. He was going to make you burn in his own, personal ninth circle of the seven hells.

“What a good girl she is,” he cooed, grasping a hip with one hand, beginning to grope your breast and play with your clothed, hardening nipple with his other hand. “Such a good girl for me this time around.”

He thrust up gently against your motions and made you gasp, pushing deeper than you were riding him initially. “Fuck,” you moaned and threw your head back, lost in ecstasy, lost in the fire he was setting upon you, lost on him.

Aemond’s long thumb traveled from your breast, up your throat and crooked into your mouth, hooking on your bottom jaw to harshly pull your head to look at him. “A dirty mouth on her,” he thrust up against your hips, kissing your cervix roughly, making you gasp against his thumb. “Not very lady-like. Not how the future Mrs. Targaryen should act.”

You stop your minstations to look at him, feeling the heat within your abdomen dying quickly, even against the spasms of his cock still inside you. “What?” Then immediately remembering he wanted to marry you, but only if you were pregnant- and you weren’t. He had no hold over you now, at least, none that extreme. “No, no, I’m not marrying you.” You moved to slide off of him but he gripped your hips firmly, feeling his cock bounce in you. “Aemond, what the fuck! I’m not fucking pregnant. This is a one-time thing!”

“I think you need to look at that test a little closer,” he grabs his phone from his dress pants around his thighs and unlocks it, sliding through his photos before clicking on a negative image of the pregnancy test you had taken afternoon before… and there it was, a bright line next to a faded, barely there line.

But how had you missed it?

Aemond clicked his phone off and threw it in the front seat, “I thought I saw another line, though faint,” he began explaining, “research is a wonderful tool to use and it only took a little bit to find that turning an image negative makes faint HcG lines prevalent.”

You felt numb, blank, barely absorbing his words.

“How many days late are you?”

Unless this was another manipulation tactic, not even your own test. Maybe he just grabbed a test from online.

“I asked you a question,” Aemond said more sternly this time, causing you to look at him like a deer in the headlights. “How many days late are you?”

Four. You were four days late. Only four days late…that’s nothing. “Four.”

Aemond nodded and thrust his still hardened cock into you, nearly taking the breath out of you as you had completely forgotten about the foreign object in your body, focusing on another.

Aemond sighed, “I suppose you don’t believe me.” You only looked back into his eyes, blankly, still too stunned to form a word. “I bought you another to convince yourself.”

Another test. A second chance at a negative.

He pushed you off of him and stuffed himself back into his pants unsatisfied and frustrated. Leaning forward into his glove compartment, he grabbed a box and handed it to you.

“Take it,” he ordered sternly and you could only look at him, blankly. “Now.”

“Here?” You were so confused, looking out of the window of the car, suddenly worried about other cars that were not there.

“Go behind the car or something.” He instructed, leaning across you and opening your door, and shoving you out.

You walked, confused and still shocked to the back of the car. Shaking legs carrying you the entire way. You felt numb, but also, your entire body shook with anxiety at what the test would read.

Bending down shamefully, feeling dirty, you urinated on the test strip and just leaned against the back of the car, watching the digital reader dance back and forth as it read your text for two minutes.

Finally….it read.

Pregnant.

Dread pooled in your stomach, sweat procured from every orifice in your body, you felt your legs nearly buckle.

Unsure of what to do, how to process anything, you climb into the backseat again, not taking your eyes off of the test that read your life-sentence.

“Satisfied?” Aemond asked, looking over at the test too and smiling.

“Why me?” Your voice was broken, far away.

“You’re his sister.” He said it simply, as if it made sense.

You looked up at him, glassy eyes with tears threatening to fall. He leaned forward, running a thumb through your pooling tears. “I need a good image. I need a family. A good wife.” Your brow furrowed, wondering why he chose this fucked up way to obtain it. “And your brother is in my way, it’s like a two for one deal for me.” Of course, everything was about him. His family, his wife, his life. Nothing was about anyone else to him. “Just help me bring your brother down and we will live happily-ever-after. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

You gulped with trepidation, “I just want to be happy.”

“Then I’ll buy you whatever happiness you need. Just give me what I need. I can’t buy that.” He always spoke as if everything he said made perfect sense, like you were a child and him the adult. “Marry me.”

“I don’t want to.”

Aemond huffed a sinister, frustrated chuckle, “Then you, your entire family and most of all, your brother is ruined. I have my finger on the trigger right now.”

“My mom and dad have nothing to do with this-”

“No but you love them,” he smirked at you, “and that’d hurt you.”

You threw your head back, covering your face with your hands. You wanted to cry, scream, hit him, hit yourself. “What,” dragging your hands slowly from your face, “happens if I say yes?”

Aemond smiled, grabbing one of your hands and bringing it to his pointed lips, kissing softly, “I’ll arrange for a wedding soon.”

You jerked your hand away from his hold, “I never said yes.”

He furrowed his brows, both scarred and untouched, and looked at you as if you were a circus act to amuse him, “Do you really think you have a choice?”

Taglist: @croatianprincess @toodlesxcuddles

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#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon aemond #aemond #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #dark fic

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thecuriousquest · 7 months

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May I request a scenario where Yandere Levi takes a liking to a new cadet. She is sweet, innocent, and just so cute. He plays favourites with her, gives her special treatment, and makes her 'help' him with paperwork, etc. (grooming her, basically.) Reader is oblivious to his intentions. She is just happy that such an important person, and her role model, is even sparing her a glance. One day, they are in his office and Levi is feeling particularly bold. He is all touchy-touchy with her. She is feeling uncomfortable but tries to brush it off. Then he tries to kiss her and she freaks out. She immediately pushes him away and rejects his advances. Levi is pissed. He thinks she is being ungrateful. He was done playing patient and nice with her and decides to take her right there, even when she cries and begs him to stop. Reader is left feeling utterly devasted and betrayed.

A Good Cadet Follows Orders

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, rape, manipulation, grooming, slapping, virginity loss

Checkout my Master List here.

———

“With me, cadet,” is all Captain Levi Ackerman throws over his shoulder as he walks towards the his office building.

“Yes, Sir!” you exclaim, bringing your training to a halt as you run after him. You don’t feel bad in the slightest for having to cut things short. The captain needs something from you, and you think about this with a smile on your face as you walk behind him, just as he has taught you.

Arriving at his office, you stand with your hands behind your back, folded delicately at the base of your spine.

Levi sits down at his desk and begins shuffling through a couple of papers. “Clean yourself up and then sit down with me. I want you to help me with some paper work.”

“Yes, Captain.”

You walk over to the mirror and see that there are traces of dirt on your cheek. Your hair is untidy as well. This simply won’t do. How could you have let yourself get this filthy during your training? And to be in the presence of such a refined captain? You can barely tolerate the thought.

You know better than to speak out of turn, but maybe if you apologize, it might ease things between the two of you. Although, there isn’t any tension in the air, you still feel disgusted with yourself. In a way, you feel like you have let him down just for walking behind him covered in filth.

You wash your face with the pot of water and basin in his office. It feels refreshing to relieve yourself of such dirt. Taking your hair out of the low pony tail that has several locks falling out of place, you redo your hair in a tight braid that Levi would approve of.

Feeling better about your appearance, you present yourself to your captain. Anxiety riddles you as he inspects your form.

“Very good, Y/N. Sit down now. You can work on these,” he explains as he hands you several forms, all of which have been given to him by Erwin.

“Thank you, Sir,” and you mean it. You are so grateful that he thinks a low tier cadet like you could help him in any way, shape, or form. It means a lot to you.

Twenty minutes in, he looks over at you and demands that you stop. “What did I tell you about rushing your penmanship?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Captain. I didn’t even realize…”

What could you say to make this better?

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. Keep in mind that this is going to the higher ups.”

“Yes, Captain, I’ll do better.”

Out of nowhere, he tells you, “I like your hair braided better than in that low style you usually wear.”

Your mouth drops a little, and you nod as you bite on your lower lip. “Thank you, Sir. I can wear it more often like this.”

His eyes lower back to the forms on the surface of his desk. “Only if it’s something you’d like to do.”

“It is. I mean, I like it like this too, and it isn’t complex. It would be just as easy for me to put my hair in a braid. It probably wouldn’t get loose either.”

“Well then, I look forward to seeing you train hard with your hair out of your face.”

Smiling, you can’t think of anything to say as you’re overcome with giddiness. “Yes, Sir,” is all that tumbles from your mouth.

———

“Fuck, Captain Ackerman is just such a hard ass. If I had the choice between training with him and being eaten by a Titan, I’m not sure which one I would pick,” you hear some lowlife cadet complain in the dining hall.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” you can’t help but interject in your teammate’s conversation.

“Oh, look, it’s the teacher’s pet kissing his ass when he’s not even here.”

“I…I am not kissing his ass. You’re just being an ungrateful jerk.”

He makes a kissy face at you with his eyes scrunched closed, and you punch him square in the jaw. The asshole rocks back on the bench, falling onto the floor with a groan.

“With me, cadet,” you hear the deep and familiar voice behind you, and you instantly go cold with fear.

Your captain just saw you commit an act of violence towards a teammate. What will he think of you now? Thoughts like this fill your head as you walk behind him, hands folded at the base of your spine, hair still pulled back in a tight braid.

You reach his office for the second time that day, and he turns to you with crossed arms.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, cadet?”

Dropping your eyes to the floor out of respect, you bite your wobbling lip. Shaking your head, you try to control yourself.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“I’m sorry for the disrespect I displayed tonight with my actions towards you and my teammate. I will apologize to them as well. I was angry, but that’s no excuse. I will work to do better and to be better.”

Levi seems to be considering all of this. “Why were you angry?” he inquires.

“Oh, um, well…”

“What have I told you about mumbling?”

“…Not to.”

“Go on and explain yourself clearly.”

“Yes, Captain. I was angry because he was saying things about you that I didn’t like.”

A bit of pride puffs up in Levi’s chest, but he forces himself not to let the smile he’s feeling show.

“Hmmm, do you think what you did deserves a punishment?”

Punishment…you can’t fathom it. Will he hit you, make you do extra training, clean something a million times?

“Only if you think I do, Sir.”

You hear him walk over to his desk, but you don’t see what he’s doing as you keep your eyes glued to the floor. All too soon, he’s standing in front of you holding…is that a tea cup?

He hands the tea to you and guides you over to his desk. He pushes his plate of food towards you and gestures for you to eat.

Is this how he plans to discipline you?

“Captain-”

You want to ask what is happening, but he cuts your sentence off.

“Eat, cadet. No talking.”

Not sure if you should say “yes, Sir”, you stay quiet and begin your meal. It’s warm, filling, and the tea is comforting. It somehow manages to soothe your sore muscles. When finished with your supper and tea, you look at Levi, waiting for him to give you an order.

“You look like you have something to say. What is it?”

“I just wanted to thank you for this, all of this.” You hope he can understand your meaning without you specifically explaining every single thing that you’re thankful for.

To your chagrin, he nods in return. “You’re very welcome.”

“Do you need me to clean up the dishes?”

“No, that’s alright. Why don’t you go and get some rest? Be back in my office after training.”

“Yes, Sir. Have a goodnight.” You smile as you leave and head to your quarters. The quirk of your lips never leaves until you fall into a deep sleep.

———

Captain Ackerman is making his presence behind you very clear as you sit at his desk and work on more forms. He seems to be…in some kind of mood, one you’re not quite familiar with.

He touches your braid again. At first, you thought he was inspecting it, looking for anything out of place. Sometimes, he makes you redo your hair if he finds a few loose strands.

However, this is different. He seems to be feeling your hair rather than scrutinizing your braided locks. He places his hands on your shoulders and leans into your ear.

“Very nice penmanship, cadet. Much better than yesterday.”

Nervously, you force yourself to keep still as you clear your throat. “Yes, Captain, thank you. I remembered not to rush.”

“I’m glad the lesson stuck. You’re such a good learner, a good cadet. It seems like I’ve trained you very well.”

“Yes, Sir, I’ve been trained by the best.”

Your feelings are mixed with confidence from his praise and anxiety from his touches. What is happening?

Then, something you never thought would happen happens. You feel lips on your neck, and you jump out of your chair. Turning to look at him with confusion and disbelief, you see one emotion clearly expressed by him: rage.

“Sir, why did you do that?” you ask with a high pitch in your tone as your hand clutches the spot he just kissed.

“Isn’t it obvious, L/N? Please, tell me you’re not that much of an idiot.”

His advances are fast, his feet stopping just in front of yours. You have no time to react as you try to block him from grabbing you.

He laughs as you try to use his own moves against him. He trips you, and you lose your balance, thus losing your ability to parry his attacks. From fear of falling, you stick your hands out in front of you.

Levi takes this moment to grab you like he originally planned to. He grips both of your arms and positions you on the desk so that you’re looking up at the ceiling.

You cry out as his hands begin ripping apart your uniform. The sturdy cloth that has withstood training time and time again is now being torn apart by your savage captain. He’s like a feral animal, and you’re his prey. Fear overcomes you, and you desperately try to preserve your modesty by clutching your bare crotch.

“Please, stop! I don’t want this! You can’t do this, Captain!”

“I think you’ll find I can do anything I please, you shitty brat.”

As you try to pick yourself up, he slams you down on your back again, pinning your shoulders to the surface of his desk. Paperwork be damned.

Standing between your legs, he works his way past the apex of your slit before thrusting himself inside of you. It’s jarring, even more shocking than when he kissed you, and you feel a sharp thrumming of pain down there. It’s unlike any other pain you’ve felt before. It burns, stings like a thousand wasps.

You don’t remember when you started sobbing, but your tears are all you can focus on now as the tears roll sideways and drip into your ears.

Betrayed. Utterly disgusted with betrayal is how you feel. Your captain whom you so adored is now invading you in a way that you wanted to save for someone special. Your captain was supposed to be your mentor, your guiding light; he wasn’t supposed to be some depraved monster assaulting you.

Did he ever want anything more from you than what’s between your legs to begin with? All of those months you worked with him in his office, all of the special things he’d do for you, was it all just for this moment?

A heart broken wail rips from the depths of your lungs as you look into his stone colored eyes. A sharp slap connects with your cheek, and you feel dizzy. For a singular second, you’re no longer aware of him between your legs until an uncomfortable shape pokes your cervix.

“Be a good girl now and stop crying,” he warns you as he continues to thrust in and out.

You try to take a deep breath, but the tears never cease. You feel something warm and sticky gather between your legs as he pulls away from you.

“We have a lot of training to do. I don’t want you crying like a bitch every time I fuck you.”

You don’t listen to him. You can hear him talking, but you don’t understand his words.

“I t-trusted y-y-you! D-defended y-you!” is all you can scream at him.

Levi adjusts his clothes. He regards you lazily with a glance from the side, and you feel a new wave of sobs wash over your exhausted body.

“Go to the mirror and clean up, cadet. Redo your braid as well. I see a couple of hairs got loose.”

What can you do? What else is there to do?

“…Yes, Sir.”

You sniffle with a note of somberness as you obey. What was it that the captain always used to say? “A good cadet follows orders.”

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #attack on titan #snk levi #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi attack on titan #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi smut

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