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roosterforme · 11 months

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Batting Practice Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: All week long, you and Everett were enjoying some quality time with Bradley. The Tiny Eagles were still undefeated, and you were starting to think about how nice it would be if Bradley moved in with the two of you. But on Sunday, when Danny is supposed to be spending the day with Everett, you get an upsetting call.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

The further your week progressed, the more loved up you were feeling. After practice on Monday, you watched Bradley carry Ev up to the parking lot on his shoulders while they sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame.

On Tuesday, Bradley came over for dinner. He helped you cook, and then he helped Everett do his homework while you lounged on the couch with a glass of wine.

On Wednesday, you and he had a quickie on the stairs after Everett was in bed. That was something you had never done before, but also something you definitely wanted to do again.

But on Thursday, a rare thunderstorm moved in, and Bob decided to cancel practice. "Want to come over and watch a movie instead?" you asked Bradley when he called.

He scoffed and asked, "Are the Phillies the best team in baseball?"

You laughed as you looked outside at the dark sky and pouring rain. "That's definitely a yes."

"That's a hell yes, Kitten. I'll be there soon."

When he arrived, Everett opened the door for him and said, "We're going to watch Toy Story!"

Bradley tousled Everett's hair and laughed as he removed his wet baseball cap and jacket. "How did you know that's my favorite movie?"

Everett's eyes went wide. "Is it really your favorite?"

"Top ten, easily," Bradley replied, and as he made his way into your living room, he pulled you in for a kiss. His mustache was wet from the rain, and you had to reel in your need for him in front of Everett.

"I'll make popcorn," you whispered, and when you returned with it, they were both already cozy on the couch.

"Ready?" Everett asked as he held up the remote.

"Yep," you replied, eating some popcorn before you passed it to Everett where he was perched between the two of you. And you had to laugh, because apparently Bradley hadn't been lying. He had most of Toy Story memorized, and the two of them kept quoting parts together and laughing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Bradley asked, tossing some popcorn at you. "This movie came out when I was like eleven. I was obsessed with it."

"You are adorable," you replied, catching some of the popcorn in your mouth when he threw more at you.

He just sat there looking smug for a bit, and then when the part came on that always scared Everett, Bradley let him cuddle up against his side. "It's okay. The ending is happy," Bradley murmured, and you took the empty bowl so he could rub Everett's back.

"I know," he whispered. "But getting to the end is scary."

Bradley met your eyes, and you wanted to say something while Woody was about to get blown up by dynamite. But nothing seemed adequate. Everett was going to be spending the day with Danny on Sunday while you and Molly went wine tasting a few towns away. But you just had a feeling that Everett was going to come home upset or maybe even in tears, and it hurt your heart. But you didn't know what else to do. You just wished Danny cared about Everett even just a fraction of the amount that Bradley obviously did.

"Scary parts over," Bradley whispered, and you realized that Everett had been hiding his eyes. "Almost time for the happy ending."

"That's the best part," Everett said, once again vividly interested in the movie. He sat perched on the edge of the couch with rapt attention.

You swallowed your guilt down and let yourself enjoy the rest of the movie as Bradley's hand found yours along the couch.

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Bradley carried Everett upstairs by his ankles, letting him dangle in the air while he absolutely screeched with delight. When Bradley set him down on his bed, Everett said, "That was so cool!"

"That was your reward for not getting too scared by the movie. And for helping your mom clean up all the popcorn we threw at her."

Everett laughed more before he stood to go brush his teeth. "Hey, Bradley?"

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

"I like it when you're at our house. Do you have a house?"

Bradley smiled and said, "No. I have an apartment. And it's not as good as your house, because your mom doesn't live there. And you don't live there."

Everett looked at him very seriously before he walked to the bathroom. "We have an extra bedroom. You should move in here. And you could bring the rest of your baseball cards and stuff with you."

Bradley pressed his lips together and tried not to laugh. "Something to consider, I guess."

Once Everett was in bed, Bradley went back downstairs where he had left you relaxing on the couch. "Come here, Coach," you said softly as you lifted up the end of the blanket for him. He slipped underneath it next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled his hips. "I was just listening to the storm."

Bradley sighed and ran his hands along your thighs to your butt as you kissed his cheek and let your fingers sink into his hair. "Thanks for inviting me over for the movie."

"Well, Everett insisted. And I had no idea you were such a Toy Story fan," you said with a giggle that made him feel a little weak.

"I used to watch it with my mom all the time. She liked it, too," he whispered as your lips found his neck. "You're a good mom, Kitten." You paused and looked at him, and Bradley was suddenly trying to figure out what he did wrong.

"Everett is spending the day with his dad on Sunday."

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "Danny? He made Everett cry. That's all I can associate with him. The fact that he made Everett cry and he wasn't good to you."

You swallowed hard and hid your face against his shoulder. "Maybe I'm not a good mom. I keep trying to give him a chance, and he just doesn't seem to take it."

"Shhh," Bradley whispered, coaxing you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. "That's just because you care so much. You want Everett to have everything. Even if it's hard for you."

You sniffed and kissed him as you said, "I love you." Then Bradley carried you up to bed after you fell asleep.

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

The weather in San Diego was never bad for long, so Friday evening, you agreed to a date with Bradley. A date for the three of you.

"Somehow I ended up being the one left out here," you complained with a smile as Bradley held your hand and just shook his head at you. He had taken you and Everett to the flea market near the beach to look for baseball cards.

"If you stop whining, I'll buy you a three dollar burger, Kitten."

"Oh!" you said perking up and helping them look through the tables of cards. That damn burger had been delicious when he bought you one last time. "What am I looking for?"

"Phillies players," Bradley and Everett mumbled in unison, and your heart clenched. Then you pulled a card out of one of the boxes and held it up, and Bradley's eyes went wide.

"Don't set that one down," he said, kissing you hard on the lips. "I've been looking for that one."

After he had purchased a few cards, including a novelty Phanatic card for Everett, he took you both for burgers and fries. "It's getting a little late," Bradley said as he checked the time on his phone. "Think we have time for the batting cages?"

Everett gasped so loudly, and the smile on Bradley's face had your heart pounding. "Yeah," you replied. "I think we have time." Because now there was no way you could deny either of them.

Bradley took both of you back to the location of your date. That date that he insisted wasn't your first date but was instead your third date, because he counted the snack bar and park outing as real dates. Then he got you and Everett outfitted in helmets and helped you pick out bats. He took the care and time to teach Everett how everything worked, just like he had done for you.

"Safety first," Bradley said, kneeling in front of Everett. "Keep your helmet on, and don't stand directly in front of the machine. Got it?"

"Got it, Coach!" Everett nearly shouted, practically vibrating with excitement. And then you watched from the corner of the cage with amazement as Bradley started the machine. By the third pitch, Everett was hitting every ball, and some of them looked like they were hit well.

"Yes!" Bradley cheered. "Now move your right foot back a bit. Right there. Watch for the pitch."

He was good. Much better than you had been. And he only needed minimal help from Bradley. You watched your son hit dozens of pitches while you took some photos and videos. And when he turned to look at you while you were recording him, he looked absolutely delighted.

"You're up, Kitten," Bradley said, turning off the machine and reaching for you.

Everett came over and pushed you into place when you protested. "I'm not as good as the two of you!"

"You just have to practice," Bradley murmured, bending to kiss you before he handed you a bat. "Remember how to stand?''

"I think so," you replied, but his hands were already on your hips and waist, gently but firmly getting you into the proper position. He let them linger. You wanted to do this every Friday night. He squeezed you with both of his big hands, and then he turned the machine on.

You managed to hit a few of the pitches while Everett cheered for you. "Mommy! You're good!"

"Thanks, Ev," you said with a laugh. But after a dozen pitches, you said, "Come on, Coach, show us how it's done."

"Yeah! Please, Coach?"

With a soft groan, Bradley took your bat from your hands and kissed your cheek. And when you stood in the corner with Everett, you realized that this was the first time your son ever got to see Bradley batting. And it was just as impressive as the last time you were here. With the speed set to high, Bradley hit every single pitch like a pro. Dozens of pitches flew up into the mesh, but they looked like home runs to you.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, and neither could Everett. He stood in front of you with your hands on his shoulders, completely transfixed. "Wow," Everett muttered.

"He's good," you whispered as Bradley nailed another hard pitch with ease. When he turned the machine off, both of you were still gaping at him. "You better play in that summer league, Bradley."

His smile as he swung the bat over his shoulder made your insides melt.

"You have to!" Everett said, jumping up and down. "And you can pitch and Coach Bob can play in the outfield. And Mommy and I can watch and we can keep your stats if you teach us how."

When Bradley responded to your son by putting his hand gently on Everett's shoulder and guiding him out of the chainlink cage, you were prepared to beg him to play in the summer league. But then he said, "I already sent in my application, Kiddo."

"Why didn't you tell us?" you asked as he held the gate open for you.

"I haven't been selected yet. But I think they'll call me to try out."

"They'll pick you! They have to!" Everett insisted. And you could picture it so clearly: sitting on the bleachers at the Navy ballpark, you and Ev wearing matching Bradshaw shirts with Molly in a Floyd shirt. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you just wanted that more and more.

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

"I think he's asleep," you mumbled against Bradley's lips, grinding down on his thigh on the couch. Bradley had collected you into his lap to talk after Everett was in bed, but he wasn't mad about where you decided to take things instead. "But we should go out to your Bronco just in case."

Without a word, Bradley hauled you to your feet and practically dragged you out to your driveway in the darkness. "You can get a little loud out here, Kitten." He opened the back door and helped you climb in, and you were peeling your shirt off before he even had the door closed behind him. "Up here," he coaxed, rubbing his thigh, and you were on him immediately.

"You should sleep over tonight," you groaned as Bradley tossed your bra across the seat and put his mouth on your tits.

"Mmhmm," he hummed against you. "Just need to leave early before the game to go get my stuff."

"Would be easier if your stuff was here."

He paused, popping your nipple out of his mouth, but you were already so far gone, you were guiding his mouth back into place. He got you completely naked while he stayed mostly clothed, and you rode his dick nice and slow. You put on a real show for him, your hands touching yourself everywhere as your eyes went hazy.

"You're so fucking pretty," he growled when your fingers dug into his hair as you rode out your orgam with your head tipped back. "Jesus, Kitten." He sucked on your tits until your cries quieted, and then he stretched you out on the seat with your back against the soft leather.

You pulled him down for more kisses while he fucked you into the seat. When he came, it was to your voice softly telling him that you loved him. His fingers tangled up in your necklace chain as you pulled his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. "I love you, Bradley."

He kissed your collarbone and let his hand settle against your belly. "I love you. And I love your son." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight.

When he finally got you clothed enough for you to walk back inside, Bradley set an early alarm on his phone and then took you up to your bedroom. While you got changed, he checked on Everett, lingering in the doorway while his tiny body rose and fell with each breath. Today was another perfect day.

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

After the game on Saturday, the whole team was buzzing. "One more game to go, and still undefeated!" Everett said as he hugged you afterwards. He and Piper had both scored in the last inning to win the game for the Tiny Eagles, and now you almost lost your voice from cheering.

"Her kid does well, because the coaches give her special treatment," Sandra said. But you just ignored it because not only was Everett a better player than Henry, but you were actually dating Bradley now. You didn't want to start a fuss.

When Bradley and Bob were finished talking to the other team's coaches, they both came over. "I was hoping Mo would be here today," Bob told you, still glancing up at the parking lot.

"Mo?" you asked, gaping at Bob. "That's the cutest thing I have ever heard! I think Mo stayed to work some overtime this morning."

Bob blushed a deep pink while Bradley chased Everett to try to get his clipboard back. They ran around the bleachers laughing while Bob said, "I'm going to ask her to move in with me, even though it's moving really fast. But I think she's going to say no, because of her work hours."

"There's no harm in asking," you replied, making a mental note to tell Molly she better move in with Bob or else.

He looked at the ground. "We haven't really talked about that kind of stuff yet or my deployments. Do you think... If I get deployed for six months, is she going to break up with me?"

You burst out laughing so hard, he looked like he was going to cry. Meanwhile your little sister had asked you the other day if you thought Molly Floyd sounded cute. And when you told her it sounded adorable, she said she really wanted her initials to be MF which made you both giggle.

You managed to reel in your laughter. "No, Bob. I don't think she would break up with you, even if you were gone for a year." You patted his cheek gently, and he finally looked like he believed you.

"You're too fast, Ev," Bradley called, chasing after him and panting. "Shit, I'm actually worn out. That kid is fast as hell."

"He needs to play real ball next year," said Bob as the flushed pink color started to fade from his cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm gonna work with him this summer," replied Bradley nonchalantly as Everett finally ran back over with his clipboard. And the casual way with which Bradley talked about the future made you smile.

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

"I don't want to go!"

Everett was practically in tears the next morning when you packed up some snacks and his ipad in his backpack. And honestly, you were barely holding back your own tears.

"It's just for the day, Ev. And your dad is excited to see you!"

"No, he's not," he whispered, kicking his shoes across the living room and running back upstairs.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the feeling of panic rose inside you. But you were doing the right thing, weren't you? Spending time with his dad should have been beneficial to everyone. You just needed Danny to get used to this or alternately pay child support. And since there was no way he was going to be paying you anything, this would just have to do. He'd come around after a while. Maybe you'd even eventually work up to some sleepovers for Everett.

"Ev, Sweetie, I'll be back around dinner time. I promise," you called. And a second later, his head poked around the wall at the top of the stairs.

"You better," he whispered and stormed down the stairs with a scowl on his face.

When you got him in your car, he was silent for the entire drive across town to Mission Beach and Danny's townhouse. For someone who couldn't pay child support, his neighborhood was a lot nicer than yours. You sighed and looked at Everett in your rearview mirror after you parked, and he was still scowling.

"You can play on your ipad," you reminded him. "And maybe your dad will let you use some of his paints like last time."

"That was months ago," Everett mumbled. "And he got mad when I spilled some on the kitchen counter."

You pressed your lips together and thought about calling your sister to cancel the outing and going back home instead. But then Danny opened his front door and looked at you expectantly.

"Okay, there he is," you said brightly, and when you walked Everett up the sidewalk, you felt a little better.

"Hi," you called out to Danny as he opened the door wider for Everett to slink past him.

"What time will you be back?" he asked, not bothering to greet either one of you.

You just shook your head and swallowed your guilt. "Around five."

He gave you a severely annoyed look and then mumbled goodbye as you called out, "Have fun, Ev!" And then the door was closed and you walked slowly back to your car.

When you picked up Molly, she rambled on about Bob and work, and you were thankful that you didn't have to say much. The wine tasting was a treat from Bob, and since he wasn't a big drinker, he told Molly to take you.

"He's such a sweetheart, Mo," you said with a chuckle.

"He's not always sweet in bed," she replied, looking out her window with a smile.

"Oh my God, Molly," you said, smacking her arm as you headed out of the city and toward the vineyard. "Please don't elaborate. I like being able to look him in the eye."

"All I'm saying is Coach Cute Glasses has got moves. And a bit of a dirty mouth."

"Please stop," you mumbled, seriously ready to blast the radio if she kept going.

"Okay, fine. I'll stop. But just know, he's so much bigger than Casey was."

"Molly!" you screeched as she cackled. When you threatened to leave her on the side of the road, she finally changed the subject to Everett's birthday and the Padres game. And she asked you how things were going with Bradley, and you thought about mentioning the backseat sex as revenge for being told too much about Bob, but you didn't. And then you had reached the vineyard.

After a tour, the two of you tasted every wine that was offered, and then you argued for a long time while you put them in order of favorite to least favorite.

"This red one was disgusting," Molly told you, moving one that you liked to last place. "You have questionable taste."

"No, I don't!" you complained.

"Two words: Danny. Frank." She kept rearranging the wines in her preferred order while you scoffed.

"Thank you for not grouping Bradley with them."

"No. He's alright now," she said, sounding more impressed. "God, he was dumb for a bit there, but he sorted himself out. And it was fun to make him sweat about losing you and Ev."

"Fun?" you asked. "That was not fun."

She shrugged and ordered two sangrias. "It was kind of fun for me," she said apologetically. "Plus it let me know he really cares about you."

"I might ask him to move in with me and Ev soon," you blurted out. And now you were thinking about what Bob told you. And you started rambling about something that happened at work, and you realized you'd already had a lot to drink.

"Let's order food," Molly suggested. And you sat outside in the sun with your sangrias and your lunch and got very tipsy.

Molly took about a million selfies of the two of you, and when you saw one that actually looked cute, you said, "Send me that one. I want to text it to Bradley."

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think I've been texting them to this whole time?"

"Bob?" you replied as your waiter dropped off more drinks.

"And Bradley," she said with a smirk. You took her phone from her hand and looked at the thread she had with him.

"Oh my goodness," you whispered. She had sent your boyfriend about a dozen photos of you in varying degrees of ridiculousness. "What is wrong with you?"

"Look what he said!" Molly urged, moving her phone closer to your face.

Your sister is gorgeous.

I miss her, do you know what time you're heading back?

Everett looks so much like her, what a lucky kid.

You handed the phone back to her and pretended to melt off of your chair while she laughed. "You're drunk!" she accused.

"Yeah, so what?" you asked as you laughed at her.

"I love it!" she chanted. "You never do this kind of stuff with me!"

You groaned. "Gotta always be alert for Ev," you mumbled, checking the time on your phone. You'd have to wait a bit before you could drive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Molly said. "But if Bradley moves in with you, he'd be around so we could go do fun stuff like this."

"That's true," you told her as you stared up at the passing clouds. Then your phone rang and when you reached for it, your heart sank.

You accepted the facetime call from Everett's ipad. "Ev?"

"Mommy?"

"Yeah! I'm here. Are you having fun?" Molly helped you block the afternoon sun so you could see the screen more clearly. And then you saw his face. "What's wrong?"

He looked to his right and then turned back toward the screen, his sweet little forehead scrunched with worry. "Are you coming to get me soon?"

You could feel the wine coursing through your body, and now you wanted to throw up. "Pretty soon. Is something wrong, Everett?"

"I don't know."

"Where is your dad?" you asked him, scooting to the edge of your seat.

"In his room with Tori."

Your eyes went wide. "Who is Tori?" you asked at the same time as Molly.

Everett kind of shrugged. "She got here a little while ago. She said she was his girlfriend."

"What the fuck?" Molly muttered, reaching for her water glass, and then she immediately started drinking. You were too drunk to drive, and so was she. And you weren't even in the city anyway.

"Are you okay, Ev? Can you sit on the couch and play more games? The charger should be in your backpack if you need it."

But he still looked nervous.

"Just tell me what's wrong," you prompted as your heart pounded.

"Well, it smells weird in here now. It smells gross."

You froze and looked at Molly who looked like she was going to rage. Danny was smoking pot with his presumably barely legal girlfriend while he was supposed to be spending the day with his son. Now you really were going to throw up as you stood and walked out toward the vineyard, afraid you were going to have a panic attack.

"Just sit on the couch, okay? I'll come get you as soon as I can." But that would be hours from now. Your hands started to shake as Molly ran up behind you with two glasses of water.

"I just paid for everything, but we need to sober up," she said.

You took one glass from her and sobbed as you asked for her phone. "Here, talk to Ev, okay?"

She nodded and traded phones with you and started to ask her nephew a series of riddles. When you called Bradley from Molly's phone, he answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Molly. You two having fun?"

"Bradley!"

"Kitten? What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath to keep from crying. "I need your help."

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If Everett cries again, so help me..... Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 20

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

Text

offering

pairings: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader

summary: angsty; joel thinks more of your accidental visit, you think he still views you as one of his whores.

pt. 2 to winter coat

word count: 2.1k

warnings: explicit (18+), mentions of sexual actions, sorta manipulative n emotionally unavailable joel, but nothin' too dark, age gap if you squint.

notes: i'm sorry for taking ages! i got accepted in college so things r easier now. pls let me know if u want a smutty pt.3 lol

In the beginning, Joel Miller thought that it was pity.

Morbid curiosity was a close second. It’s like being stuck in a Monday morning traffic jam on the highway and as you creep along at a snail’s pace, a terrible collision happens. Although there’s nothing in particular that’s knotting you and the accident, you feel the sickening curiosity to observe the damage. To stare, to take a good look at the misfortune. For him it’s more than peeping, it’s sticking his nose in the messy pie. Swirling the jam with his dirty, bare fingers.

He liked to watch you crawl out of the grimy one-bedroom flat you like to call your home. A pretty smile snug on your lips, smelling like the 2003 Bath & Body Works vanilla body spray you got from him. He enjoyed you making pathetic attempts in being friendly with him. You always made sure to pursue, pursue, and pursue, even when the thin line under his unruly mustache was an obvious no. Always made sure you brought him a can of old soda, a half-empty tin of mints, or unlabelled cassette tapes whenever you’d return from wherever it is you go to scavenge. The things you’re offering him sometimes still baffle him.

With a twinkle of admirable optimism, you’d try to bribe your way into Joel’s collection of things. A winter coat first. Then, gloves and expired Christmas cookies. It was a small collection per say, but it’s much better than the left over items you find on your so-called ‘runs’ around Boston. Things are always already picked out everywhere in the city and you could never seem to build up the courage to leave the gates. You’re too weak and foolish to route your way out in the wild. A kiss with death wasn’t exactly your thing. It was Joel’s thing.

He relished in the fact that you and him both knew that deep down; you’re tethered to him.

Joel Miller pitied you with every inch of his aching body and perhaps that’s why he’s constantly finding himself waiting for you. Legs spread on his half-sunken couch, vodka in hand as he expected you to knock on his door. Three was the number you’d always knock. Thursdays and Sundays were your favorite days since you’re usually free of duties. Ten was the amount of steps you took. Sweet was your scent and darlin’ was your name.

You’re his favorite pastime show. That’s why he's bothered when you stopped coming on schedule, stopped following the sacred routine. Joel’s first instinct was of a petulant child. At first, it was reaping new helpless damsels to pamper. Then comes the unnecessary aggression. Quarrels that had him littered in royal blue bruises and everyone that crossed him dead in a ditch. But you never came. Never knocked on his door again.

Until now.

You’re gone before he knows it. Cookies were your offering this time, decent ones that don't taste like sandpaper. Does this mean you’d need him again? He swore he tried to wait it out. Tried to sit still in the qualms of his home, hoping for you to be the one to relapse into his tousled salt-and-pepper and sharp pine scent. But you didn’t. You hadn’t come over to knock three times on his door on a Thursday afternoon and took ten steps to get wrapped up in his fingers.

He’s now actively seeking for you. Asking around as subtle as he could to figure out what exactly you do these days. Tommy said a seamstress, others said preschool teacher, then a few said stablehand as well. Every time he barged his way into a shop, calmly asking for your whereabouts, he’d always be met with a head shake. You’re a ghost it seems. The more he searched for you, the more you delve deep into nonexistence. That or you’ve deliberately played cat and mouse to avoid him. Afraid that he’d be dragging you back to the trenches of Boston, of who you and him were.

It’s not hard to catch a whiff of Joel Miller when he’s coming your way. He’s tall and brooding. A cloud of grump, stomping his way through town. People will talk. Anytime someone mentions his trudging footsteps, you’d be out of that facility in a second. Your role in the commune was to help out in a multitude of jobs, which means endless hiding spots from the thunder that’s tailing you around. You knew that scurrying away from him means avoiding him for just a limited period of time. You knew that he’d end up figuring out your pretty little tactics like he’s always had, but it’s better than the alternative: confrontation.

An odd rush of dread coursed through your veins at the mere sight of him.

Everything came back to you in an instant. The thing is, there used to be a locked chest on the back of your head. A place where you managed to compress the terrible things you’ve witnessed and comprehended throughout all these years of surviving. All the death, vile gore, the things that teared away every inch of your humanity. It’s all jumbled up with the scarce romance and twisted affection you received in between. Your Pandora's box has grown dusty from the years you’ve spent in Jackson, draped by a blanket of comfort and pushed even further into where no one could reach. Sure, it’s unresolved, but at least you don’t have to look at that ugly part of you ever again.

Those steely eyes of his was the key and even without having him say anything, he’s unleashed the flipside of what you are. Alarms blared in your head. The red and blue lights flashing brightly in the gathering gloom of winter evening. He was trouble and you knew it.

You were quick to shut the door close again, but he was even faster in lodging his arms between the door and the frame. He didn’t push forcefully like he’s interested in breaking in. He’s just stopping you from closing the door, effectively creating a gap. Carrying heavy logs of wood and slabs of meat might’ve increased your strength by a bit, but Joel was no match for you. It’s impossible to beat him in the one thing he’s good at.

You gave up.

From your warm lungs came white clouds as you heaved in front of him, knuckles grown equally white against the edge of the birch wood. You looked up at him. He’s looking down at you and now you two are engaged in some fucked up version of a staring contest. Three apparent lines of horizontal wrinkles appeared on his forehead, then a couple in between his knitted brows. You could watch his rounded brown eyes droop, a gleam of hope flourished. He’s silently begging you to undo your resolve.

You gave in.

Your front door creaked open. The dense brick wall you’ve built for five consecutive years was torn away at his arrival. Brick by brick, little by little. Your bodies’ slight tilt to the side was your idea of a warm welcome into the heavenly space you’ve considered home. It’s infinitely better than the flat you owned in Boston. It’s a lot more personal; cluttered with old photographs, borrowed books, and lukewarm herbal tea. Most of it was just ways to fill the empty shell you’ve become. He took a step forward, then politely toed his muddy work boots off near your neatly arranged shoe rack. Wordlessly at that.

“Joel.”

The older looked back at your imposing figure, heart pounding against his ribcage at the trivial mention of his name.

“What are you doing here?”

You sounded distant, unlike the cheery version that came up to his doorstep the previous day. Yet your tone still reeked of the same old youth and innocence.

He swallowed thin air, hoping that it’d relieve the bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

“Your cookies.”

He uttered like it held some sort of relevance. When he’s met with a cute quirk of your eyebrow, he tounged the insides of his cheek. Nervous.

“It’s an offering, isn’t it?”

He questioned. Joel was unsure, you knew that much from the way he’s searching behind your expressive eyes.

An offering was a phrase you haven’t heard since you’ve last met him. Flashes of memories replayed like old film shot on an analog camera on the back of your head, blurry and vague. You remembered the heat of the summer, the busy chirps of cicadas. He joked about how you’d always bring him an offering every time you needed something. How it reminded him of a fat tabby cat who’d always bring him dead rats in exchange for tuna treats back in the day. You remembered how you sulked, all pouty, because he’d just compared your small gifts to a dead rat. He’d then comfort you and peppered heated kisses. Scruff against the smooth of your skin.

Why are you remembering all this?

“No, Joel. It wasn’t– I don’t.. I don’t do that anymore.”

Your gaze grew pensive, wondering if he thought you're still the same girl you were. The same girl who’d suck his cock for a stupid periwinkle winter coat. There wasn’t anything wrong with prostitution, especially when it’s the only thing keeping you alive and well. It’s just that you’ve grown so much from that place. Your hair stopped shedding from the terrible diet you used to survive on, a bite of a dehydrated protein bar and tap water. Your cheeks were fuller, even when it’s still flushed with the exact same hues. You weren’t constantly freezing and jittering. Jackson shaped a new person out of a broken mold.

“I wasn’t.. implying on that. I was just– Well, I thought..”

He took a sharp breath.

“I thought you needed me.”

He confessed. Joel took another risky step forward, wooden boards creaking an ugly tone beneath his feet. You felt raw at his confession. The scabs were picked and yanked apart at every edge. There was nothing to hide your throbbing pain away with. No blankets of kind words. It bled quietly under his longing gaze. You knew where he's heading and no matter the name of the town it's nowhere good.

“I’m not the same girl, Joel.”

“I know, it’s just–”

“I don’t need you to protect me from anything. Do you think all my problems get solved when a big strong man shows up? Well, guess what–”

“No, I–”

“No. You listen to me.”

“I need you.”

You scoffed at what he said. A look of disbelief curved your eyebrows upwards and left your jaw slacked, as if you just heard the world’s stupidest joke coming from the world’s largest asshole. Did he really think sweet dolled-up words would help him get you right back in his lap? Ready for him to use whenever and wherever he pleases. Ready to get discarded once again as if you’re some sort of one-use paper cup in a shabby office. He took another step forward. This time, the light from the fireplace hit him in a way that made him look the same way he did five years ago. The glint of hope, the unspoken words, the twisted sense of belonging.

“Don’t say you need me when you leave and you leave again.”

You swore you could feel the agony making its way to the lilt of your voice. It’s bitter against the back of your throat. It didn’t matter that you were the one who physically left him when you disappeared out of Boston. He’s never even there to begin with. Not one inch of his heart was ever present when you were splayed out naked on his mattress, or when his fingers curled around your plush insides, or when your legs hooked around him, or when you told him how much he meant to you despite only being a quick fuck for him.

Silence fell over the both of you. You felt his frown and the way his warm ragged breath penetrated the cold air. You heard the ticking of your clock as you counted every second passing and the heavy, doubtful steps he took. You saw him curling a large hand against your skin to cup your cheek, testing the currents and seeing whether he’d managed to crack your resolve like he’d always have.

Everything felt so right. So familiar. Even when it’s wrong.

You’re crumpling, slotting right into the safe net he’s providing. A tear rolled down your cheek. The crowbar swung in slow motion, even when you’re doing everything to stop it. Joel Miller rendered you helpless. He made you feel like the girl you were. Then, like a poorly edited movie, there is no impact or sound of breaking glass, only a raining down of fragments sharp enough to pierce your firmness.

You sobbed. He cradled you in his arms, gently, like you actually mattered for once.

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #tlou x reader #tlou imagine #tlou fic #joel miller angst

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blegh-110 · 2 years

Text

Have I found you, flightless bird? (2/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Summary: The night finally comes where Tangerine makes his move.

Chapter Warnings: Obsessive behavior, criminal activity, talk of nonconsensual drugging (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Happy Monday! Hope this makes your day a little better! Just fyi, I got a job so the next chapter might take a while to come out. Anyways, happy reading!! :)

Tangerine was feeling stressed. Really fucking stressed and worried.

If anyone knew he was an assassin, a brutal one at that, they would have found his state comical. Who knew that someone who kills others as an occupation is feeling sick to his stomach because the girl he likes is no more than fifteen feet away from him.

Tangerine stares at the back of your head through the door for a few more seconds then goes into the bathroom to compose and settle himself down. Fixing any wrinkle in his coat, smoothing out his hair and mustache, as well as putting his rings and necklace into place. He needs to look absolutely perfect and presentable for you.

Before he walks out and makes his way back to you, he reminds himself that there is no way he could lose you. He and Lemon made sure of it. They both had bought all the tickets for the night, so there were no other passengers on the train but you two. This will give Tangerine some alone time with you, as well as the chance for you to know him. He had also bought a ticket that had his assigned seat directly across from you. Next, they paid the workers to help him keep you on the train, as well as some more to keep their mouths shut after tonight. The last thing they did was ask and pay the conductor, who controls opening and closing the doors on the train, to keep the doors closed and locked the entire night. There is no way you were getting off the bullet train until you two arrived at Tangerine's home, which will soon become your new home.

While these thoughts were bouncing around in Tangerine’s head, you were sitting in your seat waiting for the train to take off when you realize just how empty the carriage is. Which surprises you. There would usually be at least half the seats taken, so seeing it empty was a bit weird. Especially when you look out the window and see hundreds of people in the streets. The difference makes you feel just a little uneasy and you start to get bored, so to distract yourself, you dig into your bag and pull out a book and begin reading.

After the first few sentences, you start to get sucked into the story. It’s like the world around you slowly fades away and you are inserted into the novel. You eventually feel as though you aren’t even reading anymore because the words on the pages turn into a movie in your mind. You can clearly picture the descriptions of people and places, and feel what they feel, and-

“Excuse me, miss.” You hear someone say behind you, making you flinch in your seat at the sudden voice with an accent that sounded familiar. You place your book on the table before you turn around, and immediately want to disappear. It’s him again, you would’ve recognized that mustache anywhere. You feel a sense of deja vu as your cheeks heat up and your brain turns into mush as you stare up at him. God, he’s so handsome.

What makes this situation worse was that after being so immersed into a book, you would often get a little woozy because the world had a wiggle to it for a few seconds. So you were feeling extra disoriented.

“I think my seat is across from you, love.” He says gently, giving you butterflies once again, and points to his seat. And just in a short amount of time, seconds, you felt a mixture of emotions. One, that feeling when you can’t breathe or think properly because there is an extremely attractive person in front of you and he called you love again. Two, the feeling of terror because that said person is going to be sitting three feet away from you and you have to somehow act like you’re heart isn’t about to explode. Three, despite the fear, there was a small part of you that was thrilled to have someone so perfect be so close. Plus, he smelled good and you were pretty sure you had already fallen in love with this man.

Meanwhile, Tangerine genuinely cannot believe he is in front of you. After weeks of looking at you from a distance, he can’t help but stare down at you and take you all in. And he isn’t subtle about it either. He feels no shame when his eyes wander from your hair to your nose to your lips and all over tired face.

“Oh, okay.” You hope you sound normal and not like a nervous wreck. The man smiles at you and sits down. The sudden realization really sinks into you that he was going to be sitting across from you for however long. Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour. You just wish the burning in your face would go away, you were getting sweaty in such a short amount of time and it was uncomfortable. A part of you also curses him for choosing the seat across from you and not any of the empty ones all around you.

As he’s settling in his seat and taking off his coat, you quickly pick your book up again, right in front of your face so he doesn’t see you, but don’t even try to read the text. You’re in no state of mind to comprehend any sort of sentence but you just want to take a moment and pull yourself together. But Tangerine doesn’t want to wait anymore than he should. While he understands that he probably should take his time at this stage, he doesn’t want to wait ten minutes sitting in silence, then make his move.

He also thinks that at this point, you’re practically his and he’s yours now, so what’s the harm in speeding up the process just a little?

“My name is Tangerine, by the way. I’m gonna be here for a while, and I, uh, assume you are as well?” He made sure to talk quietly and slowly, not wanting to scare you off. Lemon had told him that he could be a little too straightforward, well, a lot actually. And to not dive straight into the abduction part of his plan. Tangerine was also well aware that you were a jumpy little thing, so he uses his tone and chooses his words carefully.

“Tangerine?” Your eyes peek over your book and Tangerine resists the urge to coo at your shyness. While your agitation doesn’t completely go away, some of it is replaced with confusion. You had never heard such a name, but it was cute. And strangely fitting how someone so intimidating and with a large frame was nicknamed something small.

Before answering, Tangerine decides he wants to mess with you a bit as he’s slightly entertained seeing you squirm in your seat and avoid any sort of contact. Although he isn’t as skilled as Lemon was with reading people, he can still see people’s true character and feelings to an extent. You also aren’t someone who is good at hiding their feelings, you’re an open book and that just made it easier for Tangerine to understand your personality more.

He nods then tilts his head in faux uncertainty, “You know, you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“Uh, yes, actually. Like three months ago, I think.”

Tangerine’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, feeling offended that you don’t remember. Two months ago, He corrects you in his head.

“It was only a few seconds though.” You continue.

Tangerine nods his head again, not putting away his confused expression and furrowed eyebrows which makes you nervous. He’s looking at you like you're doing something wrong, “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

Now you’re really at a loss for words. What could you say to that? The answer was obviously no, but the question and his genuine concern shocks you to your core. And you’re aware that your lack of a quick answer makes you look suspicious and you start to feel even more nervous as his eyes are dead set on you.

“I- no, I’m not I promise-” You shake your head and start but then cut yourself off when you see a smirk make its way on his face, one that makes your heart swoon but you also want to slap him for his “joke”. Even though this furthers you more into humiliation, you feel your lips curl into a smile that you try to hide by looking away outside the window.

“That was really funny.” You try to say with indifference but you can’t help but smile widely and let out a breathy laugh that Tangerine wants to remember forever.

He gazes at you for a little while longer. Which, at the moment, is difficult because you're facing away from him and hiding behind your hair. But through the strands, he can see a grin and you stifle a laugh. His concentration is soon broken when you both hear the sound of a door opening and Tangerine sees a woman pushing a cart with various colorful snacks and drinks.

You immediately sit up and dig back into your bag for your wallet, excited for your treats after another long and awful day at work.

“Hello, would either of you like a snack or a drink?” The kind lady asks with a smile. Tangerine nods to you, silently telling you to go first while he reaches into his pocket for his own wallet.

“I’d like a fish biscuit, please, and a…” You pause for a moment, inspecting the numerous flavored sodas and juices in front of you and trying to decide which one sounded good. Tangerine smiles adoringly at you. He finds your serious expression absolutely adorable, the way your eyes went from bottle to bottle with furrowed eyebrows reminds him of a small but angry kitten.

“I’ll have the mango juice. Thank you very much.” You say and are about to hand her the money when Tangerine speaks up suddenly.

“I can get that for you, darling. Here you go,” Tangerine gives the woman five times as much money making your eyes widen, “May I have four more of those biscuits and juices, please?”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to-” You begin but the woman is already placing five biscuits and five drinks on the table before she states that the train will be going in about a minute or so, then she leaves.

“I really don’t mind, it’s nice to have a friend right now,” Tangerine wants to shoot himself after saying friend. Just the thought of you being anything but his lover makes him feel irritated. But that sweet smile and starry eyes you give him as he pushes the pile of snacks towards you is enough to make his heart slow down. You’re too cute for your own good… and my own good, Tangerine thinks. “Also, think of this as an apology for my joke.” He refers to him asking you if you’ve been stalking him.

“Oh, yeah. That was really mean.” You say in a teasing tone while smiling. You reach for a biscuit and mango juice, ready to eat but the plastic wrapping around the lid slows you down.

“And I’m truly sorry for it, love.” His tone is nowhere near sympathetic and there is a small smirk on his face.

“Well you’re forgiven, and thank you, this is really nice of you, Tangerine.” You look at him shyly then quickly back down to the cap you’re still trying to open. He is so gorgeous and kind that it’s overwhelming to look at him longer than three seconds.

You give up unwrapping the plastic from the cap with your hands and bring the bottle up to your mouth, ready to use your teeth to tear it when Tangerine stops you.

“No, don’t use your teeth. Give that to me.” He takes the bottle away from you and easily tears through the plastic, then gives it back. You let out a small thank you, once again, your heart fluttering at the smallest amount of his attentiveness he gives you. As you’re taking a sip, you watch Tangerine grab a fish biscuit and open it before placing it on a napkin and pushing it to you. Again, a small action that probably didn’t mean much to anyone, but it meant everything to you.

You can’t remember the last time someone showed you an ounce of kindness. And here this stranger is, treating you decently and raising your expectations of men in a blink of an eye. Even though you didn’t have much to offer, you want to repay his kindness back, so you do the same thing, minus the drink part because you struggle to open it.

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart, thank you.” Tangerine wants to lean across the table and kiss your warm cheeks when you push a biscuit and drink to him. You really were an angel, a silent dream. How you remained this way through your asshole coworkers and viscous parents, Tangerine does not know. He would have lost his shit long ago and taken his frustration out on anybody that crossed him.

Before he takes a bite, he takes his blue blazer off and rolls his sleeves up, revealing a couple tattoos and veins running down his forearm. You gulp and have to force yourself to look away, thinking how a man like him is real and attractive and at the same time, not insane or a jerk.

“You’re welcome.” You say timidly and begin eating, trying not to stare. Tangerine chuckles at your response, finding your manners incredibly cute.

“Also, sorry for having a seat so close to you, the guy selling me the ticket didn’t let me choose my seat.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You give him another smile that goes straight to Tangerine’s heart and he withholds himself from wrapping his arms around you and wiping away the crumbs on your lips.

For the next fifty minutes, it felt as though you and Tangerine were detached from the rest of the world. The two of you were completely caught up with each other, acting like little kids who liked one another. You listened intently to the stories Tangerine had about him and his brother, Lemon, when they were younger. You laughed at their silly antics and awed at how he talked about him like he was his whole world. And just by listening to Tangerine, you could easily tell that he’s the type of person who loves passionately. Growing up in a household where you saw your parents fighting more than anything, it was lovely to hear about their brotherly love. And you couldn’t help your mind wander off, wondering what it would be like to be loved by someone like Tangerine, or by Tangerine himself.

You guys also talked about your own hobbies, which he surprisingly liked as well. You brought up Jersey Shore being your comfort tv show, which made Tangerine laugh and ask you why. And you explained that it was just mindless and entertaining television. Then you gave him the full rundown of the infamous note Jwoww and Snooki gave to Sammi Sweetheart in season two, this engrossed him completely, which made you laugh.

Along with this, the books you read and loved, Tangerine did as well! You both discussed events and themes and different characters from different books. He even let you talk about ones you hadn’t read but wanted to. He listened to everything you had to say like it was the most important thing, because to him, it was. Tangerine had been on the sidelines watching you and doing nothing else for two months, and he was longing to know you. So he was more than content to sit back and let you ramble, he felt it was a privilege to hear you speak and know what you were thinking.

You were aware that you were talking a lot and surprisingly, you liked the attention he was giving you. You liked the look he gave you with his chin in his palm and liked that he gave his own commentary and thoughts. This was the first human interaction you had where you didn’t want to run away or were waiting for it to end.

It had not even been an hour, but for the first time in long while, you were happy. You hadn’t smiled widely for so long your cheeks hurt, or felt comfortable enough to want to tell Tangerine everything about yourself. It was overwhelming the emotions you felt, but at the same time it wasn’t enough. But even with this happiness, you felt it was only temporary. You knew that in about five minutes, the bullet train would be at your stop and you would have to get off and go back to your apartment all alone, most likely never seeing Tangerine again. These thoughts came up when the intercom announced that the bullet train will be stopping soon and you physically felt your high spirits evaporate.

“It was really nice getting to know you, Tangerine. Seriously, this has been the best part of my day.” You smile at him sadly as you get up from your seat when the train slows down.

Tangerine doesn’t respond, instead he’s waiting for one of the workers to show up and do their job. He starts to become impatient and irritable, wondering where they were and why the fuck they were taking so long. As you’re gathering your stuff and putting on your coat, you hear the door to the carriage open and one of the workers comes through.

“Hello, I’m very sorry miss, but we can’t get the doors to open at the moment. They seem to be broken.” The woman says apologetically.

“That’s okay, I can just go through the next door.” You shrug and start to walk away when she quickly blocks you from going through the door to the next carriage, “None of them are opening right now, miss. Please sit down and we’ll begin our ride to the next stop.”

Your eyes widen, “The next stop?”

“Yes.” She smiles at you like this situation is not a big deal, like this is a normal day for her, which baffles you. She is about to leave when you're the one stopping her.

“Wait, can’t you just-I don’t know, stop the train for now and fix it? I really need to get home” You don’t mean to sound whiny, but you were extremely tired and just wanted to lay down. You also have another early day at work and need all the sleep you can get so you’re not too inadequate.

While you try to convince the woman to talk to the conductor and ask him to not leave the station, Tangerine is sitting in his seat watching the whole thing, trying not to show any signs of satisfaction or excitement. He was only getting closer and closer to his plan being complete. But that goes away and is replaced with worry when another worker comes in and waves at him to come close. He sighs with annoyance and gets up, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong. The worker leads him to the next carriage.

“Um, mister Tangerine. We’re having trouble with the doors in carriage fourteen, they seem to be broken and they won’t close.” Although it seemed like a small issue, Tangerine was an assassin. And his job required that he think of every single thing that could go wrong in a mission. And right now his mind was immediately going to you walking further down the train, noticing the doors were open, and you slipping through his fingers. He needs to get back to you quickly and make sure you don’t wander off.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want me to do about it then?” His voice was quiet and calm, but the worker knew he was pissed because of his clenched jaw and intense eye contact. He also wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well don’t just stand there, you twat. Get someone to fuckin’ shut the door.” Tangerine doesn’t let the man speak as he walks back and he sees you slumped in your seat with a tired look on your face. He immediately wants to sit next to you and hold you in his arms and tell you to go to sleep, but he is not at that stage yet. But his patience is wearing thin, and he feels he is close to snapping.

“This doesn’t make sense, why are we even going to the next stop when the doors aren’t even working?” You grumble in your seat and look out the window. Tangerine finds your pout cute and has to look away so he doesn’t smile in adoration because he knows you're annoyed and doesn’t want to make you feel worse.

He understands that this is a huge inconvenience for you and that you had the right to be annoyed. But at the same time, he wants to tell you that you won’t ever have to work anymore and that he’s going to love you and take care of you from now on. As cute as your angry little face is, knock that attitude off.

With every station the bullet train arrives at and the doors don't open, the more infuriated you become. And when you become like this, you don't want to speak to anyone, you simply don’t have the energy or interest. And this is a problem for Tangerine, all he wants to do is talk to you. Because of this, his mood drops as well. He is ready to knock some sense into you and reveal that you were going home with him and staying there. He sees you look at your phone to check the time and you huff. This prompts him to check his watch. 8:49.

“You know what? I can’t just sit here and wait anymore. There’s fifteen carriages and two doors between each one, one of them has to work.” You say angrily and start to gather your stuff again. While on your small rampage, you don’t even look at Tangerine once. As far as he knows, you were talking to yourself. And when you’re about to walk away, you don’t say goodbye. And this really hurts and makes Tangerine angry. He’s too caught up in his emotions that he forgets about the doors at carriage fourteen. But he realizes at the last second

“Y/N, sit down!” His tone is a combination of his panic and anger, which causes him to shout and this scares you. It reminds you too much of your father screaming and you flinch, waiting for a door to slam loudly, but it never comes. You don’t move an inch, you’re frozen in your spot with your heart picking up and mind becoming hazy. Tangerine sees your uneasiness and quickly calms down, the absolute last thing he wants is to scare you and make you feel anxious around him.

“Love, I am sorry for my tone, but there is nothing you can do right now. The doors don’t even open until another ten minutes. So just sit down and relax, please.” Tangerine says in a softer tone, but it does nothing to soothe you.

“I don’t want to sit down and relax, I need to get home and sleep! And when they fix the doors, how am I going to get back to my stop?” Your frustration combined with your tiredness causes your voice to waver, indicating that you were close to crying. Tangerine sees your watery eyes and he feels his heart hurt.

“Oh, darling, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. C’mere.” He very gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you into his body. And you let him and it feels wonderful to be held so tenderly. Despite the rational part of your brain asking you why you’re letting a complete stranger touch you, you ignore it in favor of the warmest arms you’ve ever encountered. At the same time, it feels strange to have arms wrapped around you, you can’t remember the last time anyone has held you this close.

You close your eyes with your cheek resting on his chest, trying so hard to not let the tears fall and taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart. You feel your face heating up with embarrassment at the fact that you were on the verge of crying like a baby and a grown adult who you barely knew was trying to console you. So you try to swallow the lump in your throat and breathe through your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sniffle. Tangerine of course notices you holding back, and is quite impressed with how quiet you’re able to be, but he’s not going to let you continue with this, not anymore.

You feel a warm hand begin rubbing your back with a firm touch. Up, down, left, right, all around, slowly. You feel another hand stroking the top of your hair, it feels nice. And with his chin resting on the top of your head, you are engulfed and surrounded by Tangerine. All you feel and see and smell is him. Something about the way he’s holding you and making you feel safe makes your tears fall. This is all you ever wanted.

“That’s okay, I know. You can let it out, it’s no good to hold it all in.” Tangerine whispers into your hair when he hears the first sniffle. He doesn’t stop his hand movements when he feels you shaking in his arms and hears your sobbing, but he does tighten his arms around you.

Your cries and heaving breaths are reduced to sniffles and hiccups. You are suddenly aware of what you have just done, feeling like a nuisance.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m fine, I promise.” You pull away enough to look up at him and find him already staring at you with concern. Tangerine shakes his while gently swiping his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for the way you feel. And I can very clearly see you are not okay, and there is nothing wrong with that. Sit down, please, let me get you some water, don’t want you feeling ill, do we?” You shake your head and sit back down, feeling cold and drained. It was strange that not even an hour ago, you were the happiest you had ever been. And now, your eyelids were feeling heavy and like someone had just thrown sand in them.

Tangerine sees that you’re close to falling asleep, he doesn’t think you even know you’re about to fall asleep. He quickly runs to the kitchen for some water, hoping to get you hydrated so you don’t get a headache. As he’s rummaging through the fridge he silently curses himself for buying you all those sugary snacks and drinks, that can’t be settling well in your stomach. But when he returns to you, you are fully leaning against the window and he can hear your snores.

He doesn’t know what to do next, so he decides to give Lemon a call for some advice.

When you wake up, you don’t feel any better. Your mind immediately goes to the fact that you are probably further away from your stop, and you’re still tired. The urge to close your eyes and go back to sleep is strong, but you sit up and feel something slide off of you. You look down and see that it’s a jacket, the one you saw Tangerine wearing earlier. You then realize that he is nowhere to be seen, but there is a bottle of water on the table that your dry throat is begging for.

While drinking it, you wait for Tangerine to return from wherever he is but he still hasn’t come. Feeling impatient, you get up and start walking up the train. But with every carriage you walk through, there is not a single person you see. There is a slow feeling of panic arising within you, it feels everyone in the world abandoned you and you were the only left. Before you enter the next carriage you hear Tangerine’s voice and you stop, feeling relieved that he was still on the train with you. You’re about to go back to your seat, but you hear him start to talk.

“Is this really my last resort?... Alright, how much do I give her?... The whole bottle? Lemon, are you fuckin’ insane?”

Many thoughts and questions are going through your head right now. Lemon? His brother Lemon? What are they talking about? What is he giving to who? Why does he sound so angry?

“I’ll give her half the amount, I only want her knocked out so I can get her in the car… She’s asleep right now.”

You feel all the air in your lungs disappear, your stomach is in knots, and a fear so deep in your bones that it’s difficult for you to think or move. You can only hear his side of the conversation, and with each sentence he says, the more terrified you become. If you’re hearing this correctly, Tangerine is talking to his brother about drugging someone, who is most likely you, and taking them to his car after. Then doing who knows what.

“I’ll pour it in her water or something and have her drink it, actually that strawberry soda she likes would be better.”

That was enough to confirm that he’s talking about you. You slowly back away from the door, being careful not to make any noise. When you’re far away enough, you take off to find the closest person who works on the train.

Your heart beats so fast and hard you feel like it’s going to burst out of your chest, not even hours ago you felt the same way for Tangerine, but it was for different reasons now. You run faster through each carriage, not knowing when Tangerine would get off the phone and continue with his scheme. But you feel relieved when you arrive inside the kitchen and see a woman filling up the cart with more snacks. But she looks horrified to see you.

“Oh, thank god. We need to get off right now. That man I was with is going to kill me, we need to go, please.” You grab her and try to drag her to the nearest door, but she’s shaking her head and looks at you apologetically.

“Miss, I am very sorry, but I cannot let you leave at this moment-”

“No, you don’t understand, you have to! There’s a man, his name is Tangerine, he’s trying to kidnap me, please help me-”

“Y/N?”

Your heart stops when you hear Tangerine’s voice. He’s fast.

You don’t look back, you continue to stare at the woman in front of you and silently beg for her to stay. She sadly pats your shoulder before turning away and walking out the same door Tangerine came from.

“Turn around please.” You do as he says, afraid that if you even step a toe out of line, he would pull a knife out and stab you. When you look at him, he doesn’t say anything, he only stares back. But that friendly face you witnessed earlier is gone, instead, a frown is settled on his lips and his eyes are showing dissappointment. You think it’s because of you, but Tangerine is really angry at himself for not putting a careful eye on you. He took his eye off of you for a second, more like an hour actually, and his plan has gone to shit.

“Y/N, I’m not sure exactly what you heard-”

“You were going to hurt me.” You whisper, mentally hitting yourself for interrupting him. You have no idea what he’s capable of, but if he has access to drugs that could “knock” you out for a few hours, then surely he has some sort of weapon on him.

“Not too much. Just enough to… leave you unconscious for a bit. I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy.”

“You think drugging someone without their consent isn’t ‘too crazy’?” You say this with just a smidge of anger and disbelief. You truly cannot believe what you are hearing. He’s fucking insane if he thinks what he was going to do isn’t extremely violating and fucked up.

“I really don’t appreciate that tone, love.” He says with irritation. And you’re back to being absolutely disturbed, that tiny amount of bravery is gone. He takes one step towards you.

“Tangerine, you’re scaring me.” You whisper while backing away slowly from him, afraid that if you went any faster he’ll pounce on you. While stepping back, you hit one of the carts that had the snack and drinks, and you grip it with tight fingers behind you.

“Love, that’s not my intention. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” Tangerine’s irritation is gone and he says this as gently as possible so as to not scare you, but the quick mood switch only increases it more. You're appalled at his honesty and bluntness, he isn’t even going to try and give a bullshit lie explaining what you heard.

“I don’t even know you, please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone, please.” Your voice wavers in fear and the image of him becomes blurry with your tears, cracking Tangerine’s heart

“I just want to take care of you-” He takes a big step toward you and you quickly bring the cart in front of you and, with all your strength, shove it towards him. Genuinely surprised by your actions and sudden strength, Tangerine stumbles back and watches you sprint out the other door. He looks at the clock and realizes it’s exactly 11 o’clock, all the doors in carriage fourteen are open.

You can't remember a time where you had run this fast in your life, everything in your peripheral was a blur. You’re slowed down each time you stop at each door, trying to open them then banging your fist on it in anger when it stays closed. Your thoughts go to Tangerine only getting closer, and this makes you run just a bit faster.

You cannot believe the turn of events. All of your infatuation and feelings for Tangerine were gone in an instant when you heard his plans to drug and abduct you. They were replaced with disbelief and terror. You also feel incredibly stupid, you fell for his charm and they way he made you feel special and cared for. You even let the man touch you and hug you. Now knowing he only did that as a way to make you feel comfortable enough to catch you off guard and snatch you makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. You’re really about to vomit, your whole body is shaking, you’re lightheaded and can’t think straight.

“Shit.” You whisper when you’re in the second to last carriage. You doubt that the last pair of doors will open, which means that you were screwed if these ones didn’t open. You never prayed before, but this time you do as you ran to the doors and hope to god that they open. You barely stepped in front of them and the doors slid open. You felt a huge portion of worry lift off of you in exchange for relief, but you weren’t done yet. You step out of the bullet train and the first thing you see are two security guards

When you run up to them, they look startled. You think it’s because of the way you look, all out of breath and panicked.

“Please help me, t-there's someone on there trying to hurt me. I h-heard him say he’s-”

“Miss, you can’t get off the train at this moment, please get back on.” One of them says and tries to lead you back on.

“What? No, there’s a man on there that tried to hurt me-”

“Yes, and I understand, but you need to get back on.” The other one says.

“You understand? What the- no, you’re not listening to me- hey, what are you doing, stop!” Their hands are suddenly around your upper arms and they begin dragging you towards the train. You feel another wave of panic and confusion hit you at the same time, and the tears come back.

“No, no, no, let go of me! Stop! Help!” You scream and chant so loud that your throat hurts. You dig your feet into the floor as hard as you can and thrash around in their grip, this catches them off guard and you manage to escape, but only for a few seconds before they catch you again. Their hands around your arms is reminiscent of the two cooks that you worked with and you would much rather be with them right now.

When they have you in front of the train they still have you in their hands before you find yourself on the floor. Inside the bullet train. You feel a familiar pain in your knees along with some sort of liquid, you look down and see blood. You begin crying in pain, but you stand up on wobbly legs and try to escape one last time, but you're once again on the floor when they push you back in.

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying on the floor, but long enough to know that the doors have closed and won’t be opening soon. Then you hear the door to the carriage open, along with the sight of two shoes.

This is it. This is how I’m going to die.

“Oh, darling.” Tangerine sees your bloody knees and makes a mental note to “talk” with the two guards that did this to you. He kneels down beside you, making you flinch. Tangerine ignores your action and takes a closer look at your knee, that’s when he remembers your bruised skin. You’re probably still healing from your bruises and those two guards made it worse.

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” Tangerine places one arm under your knees and the other under your back and lifts you up. This quick action surprises you and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall. Being so close to him makes you nauseous again, along with the copious amount of sugar you consumed and the running you did. You can feel your stomach turning and bile making its way up your throat. You start to cry again when you realize you are about to throw up.

Tangerine looks at you and very clearly sees how sick you look. He quickly takes you to the bathroom, places you on the floor, and lifts up the toilet seat. But you shake your head and lean away, you are absolutely terrified of throwing up. The thought of the contents in your stomach shooting back up in a hot, gross substance makes you gag again.

“I know you don’t feel good right now, but you’ll feel much better after, I promise.” Tangerine puts one hand on your back and pats it, while the other hand gently gathers your hair in a loose ponytail. His heartbreak when he sees your endless tears dripping down your face and hears your sobbing, it reminds him too much of when you would cry alone in your apartment. Only this time he’s here with you. And as much as it pains him to do this, he wants you to feel better. So he starts patting your back harder, starting from the bottom to the top.

You try to squirm away but he has a stiff hold on you. Then you moan in pain when you feel your stomach churning, it feels like it’s literally twisting inside your body. With Tangerine patting your back, you feel the contents shoot up your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut as it ends up in the toilet. You aren’t exactly sure what happens after that, only that Tangerine somehow got you in a private room on the train and you’re still crying.

“It’s done now, you’re all done now, love. You did a great job, I know that hurt.” It really shouldn’t, but the way he speaks to you calms you down and reduces your sobs to small sniffles. But there’s still a fear of the unknown of what he’ll do to you. You then become completely aware of your surroundings and find Tangerine with a damp towel in his hand and a first aid kit next to him. And he’s kneeling on the ground.

“May I?�� He gestures to your injured knees. You might as well let him clean your wound, he’s got you trapped anyways and you’re sure if you try to escape again you won’t make it very far. You nod at him and look away. Tangerine carefully rolls up the bottom of your pants above your knees, quietly apologizing when you whimper when the fabric brushes against your cuts.

The complete silence kills you. You don’t know what to say. But you’re extremely confused and still trying to process the last two or three hours, or four hours. You have no idea what time it is.

You first meet Tangerine, and it’s nice and all, but too good to be true. You find out that the whole time, he was planning to kidnap you. You thought he would have killed you by now or done something else horrific, like sell you to a group of human traffickers. Instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, wiping the blood off your knees and bandaging them up with soft touches.

“Thank you for sitting still, did wonderfully.” He carefully pulls back down the bottom of your pants and puts your shoes on. You didn’t even realize he took off your shoes. And again, you definitely should not be feeling this way, but he’s being so gentle with you that it makes it hard to breathe. You want to kick yourself for feeling this way about a man that wanted to drug and take you away.

You watch his every move as he gets back up and walks to the bar, ready to take any harm he gives you. But he gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, opens it, and places it on the table in front of you. While you thought this was cute and gentlemanlike hours ago, you now know his true intentions and don’t want anything from him.

Even though your throat is burning and there’s a lingering taste of vomit in your mouth.

“Drink it, Y/N.”

You say nothing and look away, hoping that he’ll go away and never show his face again, or maybe the ground of the train will swallow you whole. That would be lovely. You hear Tangerine let out a frustrated sigh and you prepare for a smack or something physical.

“Y/N, please don’t make me ask you again. I understand you’re exhausted and have a ton of questions, but you’re not going back home. You’re coming with me and staying with me from now on. So just accept that and drink your water… please.” Despite Tangerine’s obvious frustration over the matter, his plan hadn’t gone his way, he completely understands where you are coming from. He knows what he’s doing and what he’s done is fucked up and deranged, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew if he ignored the urge then he definitely would have grabbed you off the street or dragged you out of your apartment into the trunk of his car.

And you do not deserve that. He wanted to ease you into his life, lure you in slowly and nicely, then pull the string and trap you in his cage. He wants to show you the wonderful and loving life he can give you, how much he can truly care for you. But with the whole door situation in carriage fourteen and you trying to leave, it’s all a mess now.

When he says this to you, you want to be angry and call him obscene names and ask him what gives him the right to take you like you're an object. But you are not that person, you were never that person to show your anger in a truly furious way. What you do when you become this emotional is cry, but with all the tears you’ve let out today, there is no more. You’re drained. And all the fight in you is gone.

You grab the water and drink from it. The cold liquid feels like heaven when going past your dry throat.

“You should sleep now, you’ve probably tired yourself out.” Tangerine says softly. You nod your head in complete defeat and close your eyes, hoping all of this was a nightmare and you’ll wake up on your old mattress in your tiny apartment. But you knew what had just happened was real.

The only thing you can truly wish for is that whatever he has planned for you, he doesn’t cause too much harm.

—-

What was your favorite part and what are you excited for in the next chapter??? Again, your comments really motivate me to keep writing!!🥰

#tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train imagine

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mynameismckenziemae · 5 months

Text

She’s a Fire-Chapter I

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OFC/Reader (no use of y/n)

She’ll be my 3rd degree

(next chapter here)

Warnings: dry humping, fluff, etc.

A/N: I don’t believe you have to read Ain’t No Sunshine but I think it might help.

You pull into Penny’s a little before 11 and she meets you in the driveway.

“Rowan, how nice to see you again! How was the drive? You must be exhausted” she says as she takes a bag from you.

“Nice to see you too! It wasn’t bad, I tried to pull over and sleep but I couldn’t. And yes, I am pooped,” you laugh as you follow her up the stairs. “Thank you so much for this and everything, Sunny too. You have no idea how much stress this has taken off me.”

“No problem at all. Sun left most of the furniture except her bed, she said you were bringing yours?”

“Yeah, my apartment in Denver was furnished, but I bought my own bed. I think the movers will be here Monday, they’ll get the majority of my other things too.”

“Sounds good, I hope you don’t mind, but I made up the pullout for you.” She says as she unlocks the door for you.

“Oh, you are a lifesaver. Thank you! I was gonna crash on the nearest flat surface.”

“You’re welcome. Here’s the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom is here and the bedroom next to it. Do you want help getting anything else out of your car? Otherwise, I’ll get out of your hair and let you rest.”

“Oh, thank you, but that’s okay. I’ve got everything I need for now in these 2 bags, I’ll bring up the rest later.” You yawn.

“Sounds good, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at the party later, I’ve got to take Amelia to her dad’s first”.

“Great. Thank you again.”

She squeezes your shoulder and closes the door behind her.

You slip your shoes off and set an alarm before plugging your phone on and falling into a deep sleep.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A few hours later you arrive at the Hard Deck; showered, hair curled into loose waves down your back, and clad in a green sundress. You feel great and look even better.

It’s only 3:40, so you take a seat at the bar while you wait. The door swings open and you check out the hunk who walked through. Tight jeans on thick thighs, a white tank stretched over his pecs under a godawful Hawaiian shirt. He somehow pulls it off, same with the mustache he sports. You look away before he sees you staring and poke at your drink.

You check your phone in your lap to see if Sunny’s texted, but nothing. There’s movement to your right, someone’s taken the empty seat beside you. It’s the pornstache hunk. You can feel him staring after he orders.

“Before you ask, yes. The curtains match the drapes.” You say with a smile, not looking at him.

He chokes on his drink. “What? I didn’t- I wasn’t going—“ he sputters, choking on his beer.

You laugh as you turn towards him. He’s even more handsome up close. Brown eyes, a strong nose, and scars on his cheek add character. A flush is crawling up his neck, you caught him off guard.

He’s looking you over too. Deep green blue eyes, pouty painted lips, long red hair.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I’d remember you.” He says, eyes dipping to your lips.

“You’re right. I just moved here from Colorado.”

“What made you decide to come here?”

“Job offer and I wanted a change of scenery”.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“Chemical engineering.”

He whistles lowly.

“What about you, pornstache? What do you do for a living?”

“Pornstache?” He chuckles. “I’m a naval aviator.”

“Ah, I see. Call sign?”

“Rooster.”

You glance at his groin before meeting his eyes again, cocking a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice a little husky. He clears his throat and takes another drink. “You here alone?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m meeting a friend here, she should be here soon. You?”

“Same, who are you meeting? I might know them?”

“Her name is S—oh shit,” you say as a drunk uniform spills his nearly full beer in your lap.

“Ohhh, my bad. Need my help taking your wet dress off?” He slurs, his stale beer breath hitting your face.

“No thanks,” you say, sighing as you try and mop it up.

“Come on, I was just kidding. You should lighten up” he leers, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“She said no thanks. Apologize and get the hell outta here, Ensign Johnson. I’ll be having a discussion with your commanding officer on Monday about teaching you to respect a lady.” Bradley says from behind you with a commanding tone.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t know she was with you, Rooster, I mean Lt. Bra—“

“It doesn’t matter if she’s with me or not. You spilled a drink on her, didn’t apologize, and then tried to hit on her. Now, apologize.” He rises to his feet.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, for the drink and…and”

“It’s fine, you better go now.” You reply, still trying to mop the mess.

He and his buddies scurry away.

“Come with me, I can get you some towels. I used to work here.” He says, holding out his hand.

You take it. “That’d be great, thanks.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He brings you to a storage room and hands you some clean towels.

“Damn it. It’s no use. It’s satin, so even when it dries I’m still gonna look like I peed my pants” you laugh, holding the wet material off your thighs.

“Could your friend bring you something to change into?” He asks, taking the wet one from you.

“I’m sure she would. Wait, I have clothes in my car yet. Know how I told you I just moved here? Well…like literally moved here today and didn’t bring all of the boxes in yet. I’m gonna soak my underwear thought if I don’t get this off soon.”

“Do you want me to get you something from your car?”

“You’d do that?” You asked, surprised. You were used to men who did the bare minimum.

“Of course, gotta show you how most naval men act, not like that jackass. Give me your keys and I’ll grab you something.”

“Thank you, it’s the white Volkswagen in the back. There’s dresses on top in the trunk, any of them should work.”

“You got it, be back in a second.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You unzip the dress and step out of it as soon as he leaves, unable to stand the feeling of wet satin sticking to your thighs. Leaving you in your heels, bra, and lacy boyshorts. You turn to look for something to put it in and you see a box of plastic bags on the top shelf. You stand on your tiptoes and almost have it…

“Does this one work? I think it’ll look nice with your eyes. Shit, sorry!” You hear the door close and he turns around.

Oops, he was back faster than you thought.

“No worries, I just had to get it off, it was irritating my skin. I figured this is no different than seeing me in a bikini” You walk up behind him. He flinches when you touch his shoulder to turn him around to take the dress.

He slowly turns to you and gulps, looking towards the ceiling, trying to be respectful.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you as you step closer and ‘accidentally’ brush the bulge growing in his jeans as you reach for the dress.

“Yeah, Rooster makes sense.” You smile as he sucks in a breath and drops his head to look at you.

You rise to your tiptoes to kiss him, which he returns immediately with enthusiasm. His hands go straight to your ass and squeeze, groaning into your mouth. He’s an ass man apparently.

His hands slide lower and he lifts you, turning to pin you against the door, his jean-clad erection pressed right against your core. You pull off his lips with a whine, and he kisses a path down your neck, his mustache tickling in the best way.

His hips continue rocking against yours, and he groans as he can feel your wet heat through the layers.

“Keep going, just like that” you pant, surprised that you’re getting close.

He groans again, lower this time, and sucks a bruise below your collarbone. The little zing of pain is enough to push you over the edge. Your legs tighten around his waist and your hands weave into his hair to tug his head up for a kiss and he swallows your whimpers.

Once you catch your breath, he sets you down, “That was so fucking hot” he pants against your lips.

You smile and bring your hand to his zipper, ready to return the favor but his phone dings, startling you both.

“Shit! What time is it? My friend was supposed to be here at 4.” You say, pulling your dress on and smoothing your hair. Thankfully the dress covers the mark he left by your collarbone.

“4:33, my friends are here too.” He says, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry about your…situation, but I really gotta go find my friend but I’ll be here for a while tonight, come find me?” you ask as you grab your purse.

“It’s okay, I gotta go too. I just…need a minute,” he chuckles, “but yeah, I’ll find you”.

You run your fingertips across the front of his pants and kiss his cheek. “See you around”.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You spot her curly hair from across the bar.

“Sunny!” You say, wrapping her in a hug.

“Row! Sorry I was late, I was uh-preoccupied?” Well, that explains her baby giraffe legs. “Hey, this is Bob, my boyfriend.” She says.

“Nice to meet you finally, I’m Rowan,” you say with a smile, shaking his hand. He returns it.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed.” Sunny asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little nervous is all.” Yeah, she’s not gonna buy that.

“Don’t be! Everyone’s gonna love you. Oh, there’s Bradley now. I’ll introduce you.” Sunny says, waving someone over.

Pornstache’s eyes widen when he sees you behind Sunny.

“Bradley, this is my good friend Rowan from college. She’s the engineer moving here from Colorado, staying at Pen’s apartment,” Sunny turns to you, “and this is Bradley, my childhood friend. Our dads flew together in the Navy”.

“Rowan. That’s a pretty name. What does it mean?” Bradley asks you.

“Little redhead. I bet you can figure out why my parents chose it” you smirk, holding out your hand. “Great to meet you, Bradley.”

He takes your hand. “Likewise” he murmurs, looking at your lips, which turn up into a seductive smile.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Wellllllll there’s part one. Whatcha think? Lmk if you want to be added to this stories taglist!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #she’s a fire #robert bob floyd

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topguncortez · 1 year

Text

The Professor | Chapter 7

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: You meet Bradley, who just so happens to be Jake's friend, while hiding from Jake. Jake decides to wave the white flag in the gift of Orange Roses.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: age gap, power imbalance, mentions of sex, Jake calls College girl a slut, mentions of parental death, feelings.

The blank doc that sat on your computer screen was mocking you. It was ridiculing you and your stupid brain for thinking it was ever a good idea to start sleeping with your professor. It was making fun of the fact that you couldn’t put a single thought towards this essay assignment that was due, the only thing running in your mind was the harsh words Jake had spoken to you. You groaned and pushed your laptop away, and drank down the whiskey that was sitting in front of you.

“Bad day?” The bartender asked, as he refilled your glass.

“Bad fucking semester,” You mumbled and took a sip of the brown liquid.

“What’s your major?”

“English,” You said and he nodded. He was rather cute, curly brown hair, honey brown eyes and a mustache on his face. His eyes looked you up and down, and a sudden surge of confidence filled your body. You sat up a bit in your seat, and closed your laptop, “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bradley but everyone calls me Rooster,” He said and held his hand out to you, “Care to tell me why you’re sitting in my bar at 10 o’clock at night, doing homework on a monday drinking whiskey? Wait. . . let me guess. . . boy problems?”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” You smiled and raised your glass towards him. Bradley raised his arms in celebration which caused you to giggle.

“So, out with it. Tell Doctor Bradley what brings you in today.”

You chuckled again, and crossed your arms over your chest, “I read the situation wrong, and he made fun of me for it, now we aren’t talking.”

“What a dickhead,” Bradley said, and poured himself a drink, and then placed a glass of water in front of you. You nodded in thanks and took a sip, “Do you think it scared him? And that’s why he laughed?”

“I really don’t know,” You simply shrugged. And it was the truth, you really didn’t know what had happened in that hour or so you were asleep. The only conversation you have had with Jake since that night was strictly school related, and even then, it was short, strained answers.

“Well, I think he’s an absolute idiot for that,” Bradley leaned over the bar, getting closer to you. You licked your lips and looked at him. His eyes were a perfect mix of light and dark brown, the swirls in his orbs pulling you in closer, “I’m done in five. . . I can take you home?”

“I’d like that,” You said and Bradley smiled at you. You watched him walk away and go over to another bartender, telling her something. You gathered your laptop and put it in your backpack, and glanced down at your phone. You rolled your eyes seeing a message from Jake.

‘I need you tonight.’

You smirked as your fingers tapped on the characters on the screen: ‘Can’t.’

“You’re in luck, I can bounce early,” Bradley said, now on the other side of the bar. He held his arm out for you to take, and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, and walked out of the bar.

Jake’s green eyes were still locked on the message that you had sent him last night. Just one simple word ‘can’t’. It gave a clear answer, but it was unlike you. Usually, if you couldn’t come over you gave an explanation, never just a one word answer. But he guessed, it was what he deserved after the way he kicked you out the other night. Jake sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, the words he had said sat heavily on his mind.

After you had left in near tears, Jake retreated to his bathroom, and slammed the door shut. He didn’t even bother to watch to make sure you got to your car safely, or send his ‘text me when you get home’ message like he usually did. Instead, the words that his sister Nancy had said replayed over and over in his mind like a broken record. He had thought when he told them that family time was over, that his mother and sisters had left, but Nancy decided to stay. She poured herself a glass of wine and was waiting in the kitchen for Jake to come down.

“She’s an energetic little thing isn’t she,” Nancy said, causing Jake to jump.

“Jesus, Nance, what the hell are you still doing here?” Jake asked. He walked over to the fridge and got himself a bottle of water for you and himself.

“Just want to talk to my baby brother,” Nancy shrugged.

“I’m a year younger,” Jake shot back, “And haven’t you said enough tonight.”

“No, I don’t think I have. Jacob, I am worried about you,” Jake scoffed and Nancy continued, “She’s young, Jake, very young. She doesn’t have what it takes to-”

“To be what? A future stay at home mom like you?” Jake said and Nancy clenched her jaw, “I’m aware that she’s young.”

“Then what are you doing with her? Do you love her, Jake?” Jake paused for a moment and looked up at his sister, “Oh my god. . . you do. . . But you told Amelia that she’s just-”

“I know what I told Amelia and I’m starting to fucking regret it,” Jake ran a hand down his face, “Look, you guys were never supposed to meet her or find out about her. But Mom started talking about Allison and saying how happy she looked when she saw her the other day and I just. . . I didn’t know what to say.”

“My god, Jake,” Nancy shook her head, “You need to end this with her, now.”

“What?” Jake questioned, “I just told you I love her and-”

“You don’t love her, Jacob,” Nancy laughed, “You lust for her. There’s a difference. She’s too young for you to love. Too immature. You’re probably another name on a list for her. Do you think you’re the only man that she lies next to? I mean come on. . . Jake, you’re not dumb. Girls like her. . . with parental issues. . . they will look for anyone who has money to take care of them. It would be smart for you if you-”

“Get out.” Jake snapped, “Get the fuck out of my house! Or so help me God, Nancy, I’ll fucking do it myself.”

Nancy gapped at her younger brother, but had seen the ugly side of him before and knew how he could be when he was angry. She nodded, and finished her wine before getting up from her chair. She grabbed her purse and brushed past Jake.

“But Jacob. . . you know I’m right about her,” Nancy said as she opened the door, “You may say you love her. . . but it’s not going to end well for either one of you.”

Jake clenched his jaw as he threw his phone across the room, tired of looking at that one worded message from you. He hated that Nancy’s words also had an effect on him. He knew that he had never told you that you couldn’t go out and see other guys, but he didn’t think you were. But he knew that it was probably dumb of him to think that you were exclusively his. That he was the only man you were touching, kissing, making love with. But Nancy was right, you were young, and beautiful, and energetic and also immature. You needed someone who was going to be able to match that. Not someone like him, who was probably going to work until he had a heart attack from yelling about Jane Austen.

With a sigh, Jake got up from his desk, and walked over to where his phone lay on the ground. Surprisingly the screen wasn’t cracked, but there was a snapchat message from Rooster. Jake hated the app, he thought it was dumb. The only reason he had it was because Nancy, Liz and Kathelene liked to send snaps of their kids. And occasionally you would send him a snap throughout the day as well. Jake clicked on the message from Rooster and immediately regretted it.

He would recognize that thin cursive tattoo anywhere.

The tension in the office was thick, you could cut it with a knife. You sat on the far end, Jake on the other. He had gotten a desk delivered to the room so you had somewhere to properly sit instead of on the leather couch. You had even gone as far as to decorate it, adding some pictures of your friends, your parents, and even a small succulent. It was the first time since the night of meeting his mother that the two of you had sat in a room by yourselves. You had been to lecture, and Jake had tried to talk to you, but you were ignoring him, still angry about what he had done.

Jake, on the other hand, was thinking of different ways to try and start a conversation with you. The biggest thing he wanted to ask was what you had done with Bradley. The picture of your bareback had been etched into his eyelids since he had seen it. And the snaps of you didn’t stop there, he had gotten another one from Bradley the other morning, and it was of you putting on your shoes by his front door. Jake knew that he had no right to be mad, that there wasn’t any possible way that you knew that Bradley was his friend, but he still didn’t like the fact that you had slept with him.

You were typing away at your computer when your phone went off, a loud ding cutting through the tense air. Jake looked over at you, watching as you cracked a smile at the message and typed something back. You put your phone down for a second, only for it to go off again. And again you picked it up, read it and smiled, putting it back down and another ding.

“Can you put your phone on silent?” Jake finally said, breaking the tension.

“No,” You answered back, right as your phone went off yet again.

“It’s fucking distracting.”

“Okay.”

Jake groaned, “Are you going to be this fucking childish the whole time?” You didn’t say anything, which made Jake’s blood pressure rise. He swore he was going to be diagnosed with hypertension sometime soon, “I’m fucking talking to you!”

“No, you are yelling at me,” You said, “Talk to me like an adult, and I might answer.”

“God,” Jake rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

The silence filled the room once again as you both returned to your projects before your phone went off. Jake couldn’t stand it, standing up and charging over to your desk, snatching the phone off before you could grab it.

“Give it back,” You demanded. Jake’s green eyes took in the sight of the message notifications from Rooster on your lockscreen. He clenched his jaw and handed your phone back, “You had no right to-”

“You’re fucking my best friend.”

“What the hell did you just say to me?”

“Rooster, the man you’re slutting it up with via text, is my best friend.”

“I’m not fucking him,” You shook your head, “And it’s none of your fucking business if I am! We aren’t dating, we aren’t together. I can fuck and see and date whoever the hell I want to fuck or see or date.”

“The hell you fucking can!” Jake yelled.

“And why not?” You took a step forward, standing toe to toe with him. He looked down at you, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Jake grabbed your waist, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. You pushed him away, and slapped him.

“What the fuck?” He asked, holding his red cheek.

“No, you what the fuck!” You yelled, “You don’t get to kiss me after the shit that you fucking pulled the other night.”

“You fucked my best-”

“I didn’t fuck him!” You screamed. Your chest heaved in anger as you started to pace the floor in front of your desk, “If you must fucking know, I didn’t fuck Bradley, okay, I literally slept next to him. I was at the bar, and he took me home and he invited me in for a drink. We watched a movie and fell asleep next to him.”

“You slept next to him?”

“Yes.” Jake suddenly felt like a dick, his anger somewhat subsiding, “And it shouldn’t fucking matter what I do. I am not yours.”

“I care about you.”

“But do you?” You asked. Jake felt like he had gotten punched in the gut by your words. Of course Jake cared for you, he considered you as a friend. He knew Bradley, and knew that you could do better than Bradley. Bradley didn’t have any big goals in life, other than running a bar. You had dreams, ambitions, things you wanted to see and do.

“I care about you, Y/N, and I want what's best for you.”

“Then you should be okay with me seeing Bradley.” Jake looked away from you, “Bradley is nice, and I want to get to know him.”

Jake knew that he should be okay with you wanting to get to know Bradley, but something deep within him was not okay with it. He knew that the words that left his mouth were harsh and he regretted them, but he didn’t know what else to say. He was too scared of his own feelings and wanted to push them away, to completely forget about the burning in his chest.

“My sister was right. . . You are just a slut with daddy issues.”

Jake watched as your face fell, and your eyes filled with tears. He wanted to move, to grab you and hold you and apologize profusely. But instead, he watched as you quickly grabbed your stuff. You brushed past him, purposely hitting your shoulder against his.

“Call me when you decide to stop acting like a little bitch.”

— — —

The day you met Lucy was one of those memories you looked back on often. You had done a random roommate assignment for your freshman year. Zeke had advised you to live in the dorms your first year, so you could meet some new friends. He loved you like a sister, and was ready to help you and watch out for you as you navigate your first year on your own, but he also wanted to see you prosper and meet new people. You hadn’t met Lucy prior to moving in, but when you knocked on your door, and a girl with bright red hair opened it, you knew right away you were going to be best friends.

Lucy knew everything about you, she could tell your mood from a mile away. So when you came home from class one day and went straight to your room, she knew something was wrong. She had let you have the night to yourself, letting you wallow in your sadness and listen to Taylor Swift at max volume. She gave you your space, making sure to keep an eye on you waiting for the moment when you needed her. Lucy was also privy to the emotional date that was fastly approaching.

You and Lucy didn’t talk about your parents’ deaths. It wasn’t necessarily a topic that came up in passing conversations. Lucy only knew because you had a panic attack during a bonfire one night freshman year. Zeke had been there and was able to help you through it, while Lucy watched with tears in her eyes. Zeke had told Lucy that night about the fire that claimed your parents' lives.

Currently, Lucy and Zeke were sitting on the couch, watching an episode of The Good Doctor, partially paying attention to the laughter and conversation that was flooding in from the kitchen. It was the third night in a row that you had Rooster over. Lucy didn’t mind it at first, kind of happy that your sour mood had started to improve. You didn’t tell her or Zeke what had transpired the night of Jake’s dinner fiasco, nor did you tell them about the fight that went down between him and you in his office. But Lucy also knew this mode of destruction. You got this way every single year.

“Luce? Can you get that?!” You called out as the doorbell rang.

“Yeah!” Lucy said, getting off the couch and walking towards the door. Zeke smirked and slapped her ass as she walked by, “Hey!” She scolded and Zeke held his hands up in defense.

Your laughter rang out again as Lucy opened the door. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the bouquet of orange roses sitting on the doorstep with a card attached. Kneeling down, Lucy reached for the card which had your name scrawled across it. On the back of the card in fancy print were the initials ‘J. T. S’ and Lucy knew exactly who the flowers were from. She sighed, picking up the bouquet.

“Orange Roses,” Zeke said, standing up from the couch.

“Yep,” Lucy nodded and walked towards the kitchen, Zeke trailing behind her. They were met with the sight of Rooster standing in between your legs as you sat on the counter, kissing you. Lucy cleared her throat and Rooster pulled away from you.

“Flowers,” Lucy said, holding them up, “Orange Roses.”

“From who?” You asked.

“Secret admirer,” Zeke answered, as Lucy set them down on the counter near you. Your eyes locked on the bouquet and like always, Zeke knew what you were thinking, “Bradley, I uh. . . I think you should go.”

Bradley looked between you, Lucy and Zeke, before nodding. He leaned up and kissed your cheek, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” You nodded and Rooster squeezed your thigh. He grabbed his coat, swinging it over his shoulder as he walked past Lucy and Zeke, saying goodbye to them. Once the front door closed, Lucy spoke up.

“I don’t shame you, I really don’t,” Lucy started, “But whatever you are doing, you need to figure it out, cause the only person that’s going to get hurt is you. I’m not going to force you to tell me what happened between you and professor Seresin, but it’s not good to bottle it up. Especially with what’s coming up.”

“Do you think I’m fucked up? From losing my parents?”

“Did he fucking tell you that?” Zeke demanded, getting heated.

“No!” You exclaimed, “He didn’t say anything. . . his sisters did though.” You hopped off the counter and grabbed the bouquet, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucy sighed in defeat as you walked out of the kitchen, your footsteps retreating down the hall. Zeke walked over to his girlfriend, and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned against his chest and Zeke placed a kiss on the top of her head.

You were starting to think you had lost brain cells as you were sitting in your car outside of Jake’s house. Actually, no, you knew that you had lost some brain cells because of the fact that you were sitting outside of Jake’s house. But you couldn’t sleep, not with the large bouquet of Orange Roses sitting on your desk. You didn’t even read the card that came with it, you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to do it. You had been sitting in your car on the street for nearly twenty minutes, talking yourself up for going up to the door.

“Alright, don’t be a bitch,” You took a deep breath, and opened your car door. You had prepared your speech on the way over, to thank him for the flowers and to make him actually talk to you. You were tired of the ignoring game between the two of you. It was like walking on glass around each other. You hadn’t even crossed over the sidewalk yet when the front door opened. You froze in your spot as Jake stood there, looking at you.

“Why are you-”

“Thank you,” You said, “For the roses.”

Jake nodded his head slowly, “Enthusiasm and Energy. You said in one of your papers that your mother only planted and kept orange roses around for that reason.” You smiled and looked down at your feet. It was silent as you stood on the sidewalk. Jake closed the door and stepped out on the front porch. It was dark, except for the warm glow of the street lights, “My mother also likes orange roses.”

“Smart woman,” You nodded, “I uh. . . I should be going.”

“Or. . . , you could come in,” Jake offered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Only if you want to.”

You thought about just turning around and going home. It was probably what you should’ve done. But instead, you walked towards Jake, his green eyes watching you the whole time. Jake held his hand out to you, and you took it, interlacing your fingers as he opened the door. The two of you walked up the stairs in silence, Jake’s hand never leaving yours. He pushed the bedroom door open, and you took in the sight of the orange roses sitting on his bedside table. It made your heart flutter as he let go of your hand, shutting the door softly.

“Got some for yourself?” You asked.

“I did,” Jake walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around your middle. You tilted your head, giving him access to your neck as he kissed your skin. Your knees buckled as he kissed the spot behind your ear, “I needed some color in here. . . something energetic.”

You turned around in his arms and wrapped your own around his neck and brought him in for a kiss. Jake walked the two of you backward, until your knees hit the bed. He gently laid your body down on the mattress, caressing your skin. It felt like deja vu, his gently yet rough hands on your body as he hiked your leg over his hip, and grinded his already hard length into your pelvis.

Every touch he bestowed on your body was carefully executed, just how it was a few nights ago. Jake took his time as he plowed into you, slow thrusts that hit all the right angles. The sounds you made were like an angel’s chorus, as sinful words dripped from his lips. He held you close, as if he was scared you’d disappear. He came deep inside of you, you could feel the hot release coating your womb. Jake rolled off of you, laying next to you breathless.

The second you felt your heartbeat start to stabilize, you rolled over, only for a hand to be wrapped around your wrist.

“I’m finding-“

“Stay,” Jake said, and you furrowed his eyebrows, “Hall pass. You got one, only fair that I get one.”

You didn’t say anything, as you laid back down beside him, and let his strong arms pull you into his embrace.

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smallgodseries · 11 months

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[image description: A handsome green-eyed man with a well groomed black mustache. He wears classic western togs, A dark violet jacket, a blue vest, a nice green shirt, and a red tie with a pearl-topped stickpen. His head is round, and he's a ripe rich berry color. The background is bright green foliage. Text reads, “19, Gay Lussacia, the small god of HUCKLEBERRIES”]

This isn’t what he expected his life to look like, but he’s not complaining.

Harvest gods are quite literally a dime a dozen, or a dollar for a bushel, and as a god of bilberries, Gay had never aspired to much beyond a place at the farmer’s market, a warm spot of sun, and maybe occasionally being part of the kind of pie that inspired someone to moan his name in between bites of flaky crust and vanilla ice cream. He was comfortable with his lot in divinity. He was content. He was never going to be important or essential, but he was going to grow in his own small way, and that would be enough.

That would have to be enough. Those who reach too far find their boughs broken and their leaves wilted, and he had no desire to lose his growth in such a way.

When European colonists reached North America, they found bushes growing there which fell under Gay’s domain, and called their fruit huckleberries. Tart and sweet and delicious, they expanded his profile, and filled his pie pans with fresh harvest. As time passed, he became known more and more by his new name, and less and less by the old.

Well, that was fine. “Huckleberry” sounded better anyway. It ran trippingly off the tongue, it tasted sweet against the back of the throat. And so he was content with what he was and what he had, until the day someone invoked him when what they meant was “I love you.”

It was a sweeter shock than all the sugar in all the pies in all the world.

And it began to happen more and more, people invoking him because they loved, because they wanted, because they needed. And as this happened enough to be common, his hands spread wide to grant his benedictions, and his blessing. He is a god of a small and specific love, and he treasures it all the more because it is less common than some other kinds.

Only call upon him, if you need him. He’ll gladly be your huckleberry.

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

Artist Lee Moyer (The Doom That Came to Atlantic City, Starstruck) and author Seanan McGuire (Middlegame, Every Heart a Doorway) have joined forces to bring you icons and stories of the small deities who manage our modern world, from the God of Social Distancing to the God of Finding a Parking Space.

Join in each week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many tiny divinities:

Tumblr: https://smallgodseries.tumblr.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/smallgodseries

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/smallgodseries/

Homepage: http://www.smallgodseries.com/

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fourthwingfan · 26 days

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Madness - Chapter 13

Hi, everybody. I hope you all had a pleasent Easter! Now, we continue our story. Threshing is just starting. It's a really short chapter, I'm sorry, guys. :( But I plan to post the next one on Saturday.

There is nothing quite as humbling, or as awe-inspiring, as witnessing Threshing…for those who live through it anyway.

—Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind

October first is always Threshing.

Monday, Wednesday, or Sunday, it doesn’t matter where it falls on any given year. On the first of October, the first-year cadets of the Riders Quadrant enter the bowl-shaped forested valley to the southwest of the citadel and pray they come out alive.

I will not die today.

I didn’t bother eating this morning, and I pity Ethan, who’s currently heaving up the contents of his stomach against a tree to my right.

A sword is strapped to my back, the hilt jostling against my spine as I bounce, stretching my arms across my chest one at a time.

“Remember to listen here,” Professor Kaori says from in front of the 147 of us here, tapping his chest. “If a dragon has already selected you, they’ll be calling.” He thumps his chest again. “So pay attention to not just your surroundings but your feelings, and go with them.” He grimaces. “And if your feelings are telling you to go in the other direction…listen to that, too.”

“Which one are you going for?” Liam asks quietly.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. At this point, Mira knew she wanted to seek out Teine.

“You memorized the cards, right?” He asks, lifting his brows. “So you know what’s out there?”

“Yes. I just don’t feel connected to any of them.” I shrug. “And what about you? Do you have this ‘feeling’?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He says. “I thought I felt something.”

“Which one was it?” I smile at him. He totally deserves to be chosen.

“One of the reds.” He grins. “I felt strange when you dated with the greens.”

“Hey! It wasn’t a date. I really thought that I’m done for good.” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have called it a date. I don’t want to upset a certain wingleader.” He winks.

“Liam!” I hiss and elbow him in the ribs.

And he just laughs. God, he’s annoying. A little. But I like him.

We’ve only seen professors this morning, but I know the second- and third-year riders are scattered throughout this valley in order to observe.

„If you go in groups, you’re more likely to be incinerated than bonded,” Professor Kaori argues with someone near the center of the valley. “The scribes have run the statistics. You’re better off on your own.”

“And what if we aren’t chosen by dinner?” a man with a short beard to my left asks.

Looking past him, I catch Jack Barlowe running a finger across his neck at Violet. So original. Then Oren, Rio and Tynan flank his sides.

So much for squad loyalty. It’s everyone for themselves today.

I better watch them. They’re a nasty group.

“If you’re not chosen by nightfall, there’s a problem,” Professor Kaori responds, his thick mustache turned down at the ends. “You’ll be brought out by a professor or senior leadership, so don’t give up and think we’ve forgotten about you.” He checks his pocket watch. “Remember to spread out and use every foot of this valley to your advantage. It’s nine, which means they should be flying in any minute now. The only other words I have for you are ‘good luck.’” He nods, sweeping his gaze over the crowd of us with such intensity that I know he’ll be able to re-create this moment in a projection.

Then he leaves, marching up the hill to our right and disappearing into the trees.

My mind whirls. It’s time. I’ll either leave this forest as a rider…or likely never leave.

“Be careful.” Liam pulls me into a hug and he tightens his arms around me.

“You too.” I squeeze him back and am immediately swept into another pair of arms.

“Don’t die!” Ethan orders.

That’s our only goal as what’s left of our squad separates, each heading in our own direction like we’ve been flung apart by centrifugal motion, at the mercy of a spinning wheel.

***

Guessing by the position of the sun, it’s been at least a couple of hours since the dragons flew overhead, landing in the valley in a succession that sounded like thunder and making the earth shake.

I’ve come across two greens, a brown, four oranges, and—

My heart stumbles and my feet freeze to the forest floor as a red steps into my field of vision, its head just under the canopy of enormous trees.

This is not my dragon. I’m not sure how I know, but I do.

I hold my breath, trying not to make a sound as its head sweeps right, then left, and my gaze plummets to the ground as I bow my head.

For the last hour or so, I’ve seen dragons launch into the air with a cadet—now a rider—on their back, but I’ve also seen more than a couple of plumes of smoke, and I have no desire to be one of those.

The dragon huffs a breath, then continues along its path, its daggertail flicking upward and catching one of the lower-hanging branches. The limb falls to the ground with a monstrous crash, and only after the footsteps recede do I finally raise my head.

I’ve now come across every color of dragon, and none of them has spoken to me or given me the sense of connection we’re reportedly supposed to feel.

My stomach sinks. What if I’m one of the cadets who’s destined to never become a rider? One who’s thrown back time and again to restart first year until eventually something puts me on the death roll? Has this all been for nothing?

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be useless. I don’t want to be seperated from my friends.

I feel happy with them. For the first time in my life I feel important. And I don’t want to lose them. Liam. Violet. Ethan. Not even Xaden, despite our strange relationship.

The thought is too heavy to carry.

Maybe if I could just see the valley, then I’d get a feeling like Professor Kaori was talking about.

I spot the nearest climbable tree and get to work, scaling branch after branch. Pretty sure the higher branches aren’t going to support my weight, so I stop about three-quarters to the top and survey the immediate area.

There are a few greens in plain sight to my left, standing out against the fall foliage. Oddly enough, this is the one time of year when oranges, browns, and reds have the highest chance of blending in. I watch the trees for movement and spot a couple more directly south, but there’s no pull, no aching need to head in that direction, which probably means those aren’t mine, either.

Relief hits me embarrassingly hard when I count at least half a dozen first-years wandering aimlessly. I shouldn’t be so happy that they haven’t found their dragons, either, but at least I’m not the only one, which gives me hope.

There’s a clearing to the north, and my eyes narrow as a flash, like a mirror, catches the sun.

Or like a golden dragon.

Guess the little feathertail is still out here appeasing its curiosity.

There’s another movement. There’s a woman with wihitis hair. Violet.

Then I spot three man entering the clearing.

Shit. They must be Jack and his group.

I climb down and keep my footsteps silent and race across the forest floor as fast as I can.

I am thankful I grew up playing hide-and-seek with Violet in the woods. This is one area of expertise I can confidently claim.

The clearing is closer than I realized, so I kick up my speed, my gaze darting between the leaf-covered path I’ve chosen and where I think they are.

The meadow is big enough for ten dragons, ringed by several large trees, but the golden one stands alone in the center, in front of the dragon is Violet.

I was right. The group I saw was Jack’s. They surrounded Violet.

Four man against Violet, and a dragon. Probably a baby if based on it’s size.

I feel my anger rising. I will kill them.

I unsheathe my sword but before I can say anything or take a step, I hear a low threatening voice.

„I would strongly recommend you rethink your actions,” a voice—his voice—demands from across the field.

My scalp prickles as each of our heads swivel in his direction.

Xaden is leaning against the tree, his arms folded across his chest, and behind him, watching with narrowed golden eyes, her fangs exposed, is Sgaeyl, his terrifyingly beautiful navy-blue daggertail.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #sgaeyl

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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nah bc now i have someone to share my dbf!tangerine thoughts with. like dbf!tan is a menace. always teasing r with a shit eating grin. this man has little shame and will get under ur skin and rile you up at a party/gathering whatever as he likes watching u squirm. he’s an asshole in the best flirty way when he finally corners you i just. phew

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.

Tangerine's hand stretches clear across your face, thick fingers blocking your lips from parting. The way that his cock slams into you makes you want to scream, though, and the air fills your lungs even if it can't escape.

"Quiet," He grunts, leaning in to nip at your jaw, "Don't want dear old daddy to hear, do 'ya? Don't want him to start wondering why you take so many odd jobs at my house. 'Think he knows you wear a maid outfit when you clean my kitchen, angel?"

Every cocky, boastful brag that comes out of Tangerine's mouth only makes the agonizing drag of his cock against your walls better, pleasure searing at your insides like the grill marks on the bugers your dad is making downstairs. Your bedroom window is closed so that none of the guests at your family's little barbeque find out that your dad's buddy has more of a taste for you than for the beer in the cooler on the deck.

It's like he's been summoned; at Tangerine's mention of your father, you hear his footsteps on the stairs. Your eyes go wide, and you scrape your teeth against Tangerine's hand, silently begging him to stop moving and rustling the sheets.

"Y/N?" Your dad knocks, but thankfully the door is locked, so it wouldn't matter if he turned the knob anyways, "You want cheese on your burger?"

Tangerine slowly, carefully, and silently takes his hand off of your lips. You part them with a shaky inhale, voice raspy from withheld pleasure as you shout, "No thanks, dad."

"Okay," He speaks, still muffled from behind the door, "Hey, have you seen Tan anywhere? He said he was grabbing something out of his car but I never saw him come back."

That's because he'd ducked behind his car and climbed up into your window around the side of the house.

"Uh, no, sorry dad." You call back, your wide, mortified eyes meeting Tangerine's dark ones, "I'll let you know if I see him, though."

"Thanks, honey." He calls, then his footsteps recede, and he's gone.

"Good," Tangerine croons, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a sweet, searing kiss. He starts up again, pace slow but steady, just until you're accustomed to the feeling again, then he rocks his hips into yours faster, "Good job, angel. You're a good little liar, y'know that? 'Starting to think I'm not your only secret."

"You are!" You gasp, the feeling of Tangerine's thick, strong fingers pinching around your nipple and squeezing, "You are, Tan. 'S just you, only you."

"'S right," He hums, satisfied. He kisses at your jaw, mustache prickling against your skin as he nips at the skin there, "Only me, darling, only us."

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writing-my-time · 3 days

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SMOKE BREAK (PART ONE)

Note: This ended up taking a vastly different route than what I initially had planned so... two parter!

Pairing: Steve Murphy X F!Reader Word Count: 1.75k Warnings: Angst, swearing, allusions to cheating, nicotine withdrawal. Summary: It’s been a week since Steve’s quit smoking cold turkey, and his withdrawals are making him worse by the day. Everything comes to a head when he offers to drop you home late at night.

Connie’s calling him again. His lip is curling, and you watch the way the pads of his fingers meet the coarse hairs of his mustache, absent-mindedly wearing the same snarl he’s had on for the past few hours. With the phone pressed firmly against his cheek, and his free hand gripping his armrest, the man is a vision of pent up frustration. All you can tell is that the second he puts it down, he won’t be happy. A week ago, you’d at least have the assurance that he’d soothe himself with a cigarette.

Today, you don’t have that luxury. He’d explained to you last Monday that he’d decided to quit for his health, or something. Truthfully, you hadn’t really been paying attention when he first explained his reasoning. At the time, you were far more occupied with restocking the printer when he’d approached your desk. With your head down and ass up, trying your hardest to funnel fresh paper into the impossible machine, you only caught every other word. Regardless of the why’s, Steve wasn’t smoking, and he was making that everyone else's problem. Now, you’re stuck watching the man try to keep his cool over a personal call. Had it not been his wife on the phone, you’d be trying to catch his attention. Maybe you’d chew on the nib of your pencil, throw him a wink or a smile. Instead, your cheek is in your palm while you simply listen in to their spat.

“Yes, ma’am.” The agent growls into the phone. “Understood.”

His teeth clamp together, flexing the muscles in his jaw as he slams the phone back on the receiver. Unlike you, Javier doesn’t even flinch at the noise, instead he almost tauntingly raises his own cigarette to his lips. There’s a clear glint of pure, mischievous joy in his face as he exhales a plume of smoke, and you fight the urge to scold him in Steve’s defense. You know if you did, it’d only open you two up to more teasing from the other agent. That’s the last thing he needs. Rapidly pulling himself to a stand, Steve grumbles under his breath about needing a break. As he stomps out of the office with long strides, you can't help but focus on the way his hands are continuously flexing; Only releasing their tension once he reaches the door handle.

When the door slams shut, a weighted silence fills the room. Neither you nor Javier dare exchange a glance, instead you both stare at the now empty desk. A part of your conscience is posing the idea of following Steve, the other part knows that'll only make it all worse. While you yourself are no stranger to being grouchy in the office, cold turkey Steve is a different beast entirely. It was only day three when you had to stop him throwing Javier against the wall (again).

Enough time passes by for the concern to subside. By now, any attempt to bring Steve back to the office would be futile considering how much of the day his storm-out has wasted. You check the ticking clock on the wall with a sigh. Home time. After collecting your things, and a quick ‘goodbye’ to Javier, you head out of the heavy doors with your bag held tightly to your chest. Despite being well established in Colombia, walking to your home still fills you with dread; something that's only gotten worse with the cartel’s recent escalations. Just as you're about to step onto the pavement, you hear someone clear their throat.

“Walking home’s a bad idea, señorita.”

It’s Steve, bringing himself to a sluggish stand as you make your way down the steps. Clearly, his form of getting a break was sulking on the concrete outside. He’s been dragging his hands through his hair, having dirty blond strands now fly up in a disheveled mess. In truth, it’s a surprise that he’s still actually on the premises. Was he waiting? Surely not. While you know it’s not really the time to tease him, you can’t help yourself.

“Oh, you’re finally practicing some Spanish? How long have you been here now?”

“Funny. Really funny.” He asks you with a raised brow, definitely not in the mood for the usual joking around. “You want a lift or not?”

“Please.”

—

Normally, you appreciated his offers to take you home, having only started carpooling once Connie left for Miami. This time, however, you feel yourself pushed into the seat from the weight of the silence. Steve is practically choking out the steering wheel, white-knuckling the leather as his eyes stay on the road. Dim street lights illuminate his face, casting a warm orange glow against his angular features; The blonde hairs on his head that have strayed away from their combed state dangle forward. Whatever Connie had told him clearly got under his skin enough to ruin his usually calm state. He drags his tongue over his bottom lip, continually tensing his jaw as he remains deep in thought. You suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

It’s enough to shut you back up, immediately turning your eyes toward the window instead. In your time at the embassy, you’d grown accustomed to the frequent brooding behavior of the men at your workplace. To your side, you hear Steve sigh. Then, he exhales deeply through his nose, dragging his free hand down his mustache as he does. Against your better instinct, you speak again.

“I got smokes in my bag if you wanna-”

“-I don’t.”

“I just figured since you were angry I-”

“-I’m not angry.”

“Interrupt me one more time and I will be.”

It’s Steve’s turn to shut up, his steely blue eyes just about rolling into the back of his head. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, once again clenching his fists against the wheel. Silence returns to the car, now only quelled by the occasional breath. Not much longer until you're home.

“Sorry.” He mutters, releasing his now-chewed lip from his bite. “I'm just… worked up I guess.”

“No shit, Murphy.” You huff back, folding your arms to your chest as you lean back in the passenger seat. “Doesn't take an agent to recognise that. You really think quitting smoking is a great idea right when-”

You cut yourself off, knowing better than to shoot a man while he's down. Sure, the point you're making is valid. Steve's choice to ditch the cigarettes right after he's lost his free ticket to pussy isn't one that would lead to happy endings. Despite your efforts to censor yourself, the way his hands flex around the wheel make it clear he knew what you meant. The next exit ahead is yours, but instead, he stops the car. He's pulled over onto the dimly lit side of dusty road that graces the entrance to your street, leaving the car nearly pitch black inside. Steve turns to you, brows lowered and warning.

“You think I need a vice to be a good agent?” His nostrils flare.

There's a thickness in the air. It's one that forces you to gulp down a hard lump in your throat. You haven't seen this side of the agent before. Javier had mentioned over work drinks that Steve had an intimidating side; something you doubted at the time. Not now. The man's gaze bores into your own, daring you to answer in earnest. You gulp down a shaky breath, not used to the piercing look in his eye.

“I just think you need to cool it before Messina gives you the can.”

“Cool it?” He scoffs, slapping the wheel as he does. “I need to cool it? How am I meant to do that?”

“Well since you're adamant about quitting smokes I'd suggest you get laid, Murphy.” You growl, quickly growing tired of the borderline tantrum happening in the seat over.

“I don't know if you noticed, but that's not exactly something I can achieve right now, given the fact that my wife has fucked off back to Miami. So unless-” He stops himself by biting his tongue. “You know what? Now I'm angry.”

You can't help but roll your eyes, knowing full well the stories of infidelities that have been passed around the office grapevine. Steve's wife wasn't the thing stopping him, that's for sure, but you can't quite tell what thing is stopping him. Before you can even think about a response, he starts up again.

“You know what we should get into, sweetheart? What's up your ass, huh? You aren't exactly peaches and cream in the office, either. Always too busy with your own shit.”

“Oh here we go-”

“-Yeah, here we go. What? You think I'm about to let you tell me to cool it when you're in the office acting like a goddamn bitch?”

“Steve!” You exclaim, eyes wide and mouth agape.

He has no grounds to stand on, and you wonder if he knows that. The way his hands are back to white-knuckling the wheel tells you everything you need to know. Steve's looking for a fight; you assume this is his new way of feeling something. Cold turkey quitting turns people into assholes and Steve is no different. Swirls of bitterness mixed with something you can't quite place take root in his gaze, punching you right in the gut as his words settle in the silence. His Adam's apple bobs, and you sniff back a snarl. You don’t deserve this shit. Before he can speak, you cut in first.

“Thank you for the lift. I can walk from here.”

“Hey, no, come on-”

“Don’t, I’ll see you tomorrow, Steve.”

There’s no chance for him to diffuse the situation, as you’re already tearing the car door open while he comes to terms with what he’s said. He’d had a go at Javier, he’d been mouthy to Mesina, too. Shit, the man had even been getting snippy with Connie over the phone, but he didn’t expect to get wound up with you, too. You slam the door in his face, blatantly ignoring the look of remorse on his face as you begin to walk away. The last image you have of him is of him pressing his forehead as harshly against the wheel as he can. At least that makes you feel better. Lucky for you, he’d only pulled over a short walk from your apartment. Lucky for him, you’d left your bag in the footwell.

___

A big thank you for reading! Part two coming after I finish off my to do list :)

Tags for those requested: @foerthesakeoffics, @toxicanonymity

#boyd holbrook #steve murphy #narcos #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #javier peña #goose writing

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keylovesstuff · 5 months

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Omg guys stop what you're doing I actually wrote instead of just playing out scenes in my head lmao!!

Can I offer you guys a little update on this fine Monday?

Little events Ch.2

AO3

FFN

"Why don't we just let her stay here with us?" Questioned a Green toad from the opposite end of the table.

Toadsworth looked up from an unsearched area on the map and fixated his companion with a perplexed look. It had been three months since the little girl they decided to call Peach wandered through the pipe to their little village. Naturally there were questions from others upon seeing the child the next day and the scouts answered. Toadsworth, being the leader of their group, felt a sense of obligation to get her back home safely. They started their search going through the pipe directly from where she came only to find the town completely abandoned. They weren't expecting to find the area like this and Peach didn't seem to have much of a reaction to the place. Nevertheless they decided to hang around for a while in hopes they would encounter someone looking for the child.

The day came and went without anyone showing up and Peach had started to grow restless as the day grew later. There were only so many things around to keep her entertained. The group returned to their village and for the rest of the week, they came back to the deserted town, even going as far as visiting during different hours of the day. When they saw that routine was going nowhere they pulled out their map and looked for areas where humanlike creatures resided. This method proved to be better but not by much as people who were willing to hear them out didn't know who she was. Now here they are and there is only one place left to go. If nothing comes out of this visit could they really just raise her on their own?

"Absolutely not" Toadsworth raised his voice slightly after causing everyone's eyes to widen "We face enough challenges taking care of our own. The needs of humans are too much" he rationalized to the group and to remind himself.

"Well what do you propose we do if we don't find her a home today?" One Toad raised a hand and asked.

Toadsworth thought about it for a minute and couldn't come up with anything. Before he could say as much another Toad spoke up with an idea.

"We could take her to an orphanage or something... She'll be around other kids and someone who wants her will adopt her" The toad finished and added "Maybe her family's looking for her at one of those places you never know" they added.

The mustache toad considered it for a minute with fingers on his chin. On one hand the thought of just leaving the child alone to be given to just anyone scared him a bit. There was always a chance that the people who would take Peach, not being able to give her the love and life she deserved. Then again, the toads themselves were pretty much taking their own chances with each person they approached offering to give her to because they 'supposedly were or knew her parents' so to an extent the solution was similar. On the other hand no one has done this in their three months yet so he had some faith that whoever would take her would give her the world.

Maybe it had to do with how short of a time they have been caring for her but, Toadsworth has been growing rather fond and protective of Peach. He was starting to think that the longer she resided with them, the harder it would be for him to let her go and return back to his old routine. With that final thought, he came to the conclusion that today had to be the day they found her a new home and family.

"Very well, I'll keep that in mind as we go about our day." He nodded to the toad's suggestion, adjusting his glasses. "Be prepared to leave in thirty minutes. I'll see you gentlemen at the gate" After everyone was dismissed, Toadsworth followed heading straight to the area where all the kids gathered every morning.

Bright blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb but at the same time she looked so natural sitting in the circle chatting and laughing with the smaller toads. Peach's blue eyes met his beady ones as he approached the group. Wide smile she hopped up from her spot and skipped over to him while nine other kids followed.

"Good morning Mrs Toadsworth" they all greeted him happily. Peach wrapped her arms tightly around his body as if she didn't just see him an hour ago and did the same thing.

"A pleasant morning to you kids as well" he replied while rubbing the top of Peaches head. "You all go back over and finish your breakfast now." He told them after noticing half empty plates of fruit and crackers where they once were.

"Are you taking Peach to another place today?" One of the children asked him as they walked back over to their spot. He nodded in response.

"Can we come too? Peach says you guys always have fun." Another one chimed in with a question of their own.

"Certainly not, you all must stay here and tend to your work." He shook his head as they all sat down in their places. "Besides we don't go to have fun, we're taking her home today" he finished explaining.

"You say that all the time Mr.Toadsworth but she always comes back" yet another child stated in between bites of apple slices.

"Yeah 'sides Peach says she likes us and wants to stay here" a purple spotted toad spoke up as well and Peach nodded along eagerly.

Of course Toadsworth knew that. Days where they didn't go out searching, Peach would always come to him expressing how much fun she had that day with her friends. She'd tell him how she wished she could stay with them all forever. Everytime he bought up the idea of her maybe being happier with people like her, he'd always get a nonchalant 'maybe' before she returned to playing and talking more about the day. He always chalked those moments up to that just being an excited child's attention span but she'd give the same answer when settling down for the night. The kids were still talking to him while he was lost in thought and he only focused back in when another voice joined the conversation.

"Alright kids, let's finish up and stop bombarding Mr.Toadsworth with questions. We got a big day ahead of us." Toadannie sweetly told them while handing over Peach's clean clothes to Toadsworth. "Wouldn't you guys want someone to get you back home if you got lost?" She asked them. Some of the kids shook and nodded their heads.

"No, because my mom and dad always make me eat gross vegetables and go to bed early. My new family wouldn't do that" One of them said and the whole group laughed, some of them agreeing.

"Ok I hear you all. I'm sure Peach will come and visit us with her family. Right honey" Toadannie asked her and she nodded. "See? Her hair has already been brushed" she directed the last statement to Toadsworth who was going to ask that question next.

"Thank you Ms.Toadannie. let's go now Ms.Peach, we have a big day ahead of us." He cleared his throat and offered his hand to help Peach up. She took it and they waved the other children off as they left to go about their day with Toadannie.

"Do I really have to go home today?" Peach looked up and asked Toadsworth as they headed back to his place.

"That's the plan my dear. We all have a good feeling about today. You're going to love it." He told her in hopes of getting her excited. The desired effect wasn't given.

"If you say so. I love being here with you all more" Peach told him staring straight ahead.

"We all love you being here with us too but we also want you to be around others that can give you what you need. You'll understand it when you're older, I promise." He finished as they made it back to his house, opening the door. "Now you go get changed, we have to meet up with everyone in fifteen minutes time." He looked at the clock on the wall and handed her her clothing.

Once she disappeared into his room he gathered some extra snacks from his pantry like usual and placed them in the bag by the door. He did some last minute thinking about the future really hers to himself. Are they really doing right by Peach with the lengths they are going to when it comes to wanting her with her own kind? If they were willing to give it a try, could they actually be enough to raise a human child into a proper adult? While he had many doubts about these things, there was a little trust that it all could work out. If only her guardians wherever they were would just show up, take her home, and care for her. He was once again pulled out of his thoughts by her voice.

"I'm ready" she called out to him. Toadsworth gave a once-over of her appearance and there was only one thing out of place.

"Your shoes are on the wrong foot my dear Peach." He chuckled, bending down to help her fix them. "There we go, now you're ready." She giggled and reached out to his hand and he took it.

They held onto each other tightly and left the house.

__________

The search went by as it usually went. Five minutes in from the moment they entered the town, of course Peach had a million of things she needed that they all had to attend to. After a few potty breaks, some lunch, and getting her to take a nap they were finally able to talk to the locals asking their usual questions. Toadsworth asked an additional question to those who were willing to listen about places that housed and took care of abandoned children. Turns out the place wasn't too far from where they were and people had nothing but positive things to say about it along with the staff. While the words did make him feel good about maybe leaving her there, he wanted to see this place with his own eyes.

That's exactly what he decided to do around two in the afternoon. He left Peach in the care of his two companions at a park along with a few other kids. The place was about a five minute walk from the playground. That was a pretty good distance he thought and surely they don't let the smaller children roam about on their own without some sort of supervision. The building itself was pretty tall, about three stories as a matter of fact and well taken care of on the outside. The lawn was well-kept as the grass was short, bushes were trimmed, Flowers scattered about, and with what little he could see of the backyard looked pretty much the same.

There's more to things than just the outside, that's what he told himself. Toadsworth wanted to see and talk to those on the inside. Before he had a chance to knock, the door opened and out ran a boy that looked older than Peach, though not by that much. There was an older woman behind the desk who greeted him with a smile.

"Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?" She asked, standing up from the seat and approaching him.

"Ah yes well you see we have this child and we aren't sure where she belongs. We were referred to this place and I wanted to learn about how you all run this establishment. If you don't mind" He told her.

It took a little minute for the women to say something. The longer they stood in silence, the more convinced he thought she would decline his offer and turn him away. Instead after what seemed like forever she led him to the office behind the desk. The door was left slightly ajar as they both took a seat, her behind a computer. Toadsworth learned a lot more things from the worker after explaining the events from the past three months. Apparently a lot of kids of all species were brought here by others after stumbling out of pipes. Although she never saw someone take care of a child for this long before bringing them here.

"We thought we'd find them or even a lead by now but nothing." He told her "We just think she'd have a better chance of finding someone better fit for her needs." He added with a thoughtful smile.

The women seemed to understand him fully and gave him a brief rundown about how things were run around the place. Everything Toadsworth was told made him feel even better about the decision of leaving her there. They make sure all the kids are provided with a balanced three meals everyday and have availability to get snacks throughout the day if they want. All kids are well supervised throughout the day, especially the smaller ones who aren't allowed to leave the premises alone without an adult. There are plenty of things for them to do both inside and outside in the front and backyard for them to do. They do their best when it comes to teaching the smaller children reading, writing, and math skills before they are old enough to go to the school they have them all go to. All of that sounded really good to him but his next questions went along the lines of how they make sure the kids who do get adopted are going to live with good people.

Again she gave him an answer that was great to hear. They make sure to do routine background checks on adults prior and during the adoption process. They make sure the condition of the home is up to satisfactory standards. Once the process is complete they send in random wellness checks on these kids to make sure they are being treated well.

All questions answered, Toadsworth felt that Peach would be in really good hands staying here and even after leaving. They have plenty of clothes for her however long she stays. He told them all about her little quirks he's noticed throughout his time with him. They did some paperwork before he left to go get Peach and bring her here to meet everyone. Along with saying his final goodbyes to her.

Toadsworth returned to his companions at the park where he left them. One of them was pushing Peach on a swing while another one was sitting on a bench. Spotting the older toad he shook his head silently communicating to him that they still hadn't found anyone willing to take her during his time away. That was something he was used to by now but, today is different and he was ready to share what he learned from his little visit. They too felt good about leaving Peach in this place's care and while they were also feeling a bit sad about seeing her go, they knew it was best for her future.

After having Peach get acquainted with some of the adults at the place and asking him one final time if this is what they all really wanted to do, they were getting ready to say their goodbyes and head back home. Toadsworth told them to keep their farewells short so as not to cause a huge scene. While the other two toads were waiting patiently, he was the one who's been hugging Peach for almost an entire two minutes.

"Remember to be nice and use all your manners that I taught you ok?" He reminded her. She sniffled out an 'ok' nodding her head. "You just be your little bubbly self and everyone you meet is going to love you. Yes?" Again she nodded against him and he pulled back with arms still wrapped around her.

"Will you come and see me?" She asked him while rubbing the snot from her nose.

That question broke him just as much as her red face and tear streaked cheeks. He had to be truthful even if it would hurt her more. The thought of coming to visit her for a little while a few days out of the week till she was gone crossed his mind a couple of times. In the end he concluded that it would be more detrimental to her finding a home. Peach wouldn't want to go with anyone cause she'll always be looking forward to spending time with him and that was far from what he wanted to happen.

"I'm sorry dear but, I won't be able to do that." She cried harder after he finished saying that and she immediately wrapped her arms back around him "It's better that way. You'll understand it when you're older.ok?" He promised.

It took a little minute for her to calm down but once she finally did, he pulled her away again and reached out to wipe her face and held her hands in his.

"Hey now, we'll see each other again one day. I'm sure about that." He told her with a smile "you're far too pretty to have that look on your face and I don't want to leave you like that. Can I see your little happy face before I go?" He asked her hoping that would be enough for her to comply.

Instead of doing so she reached out and touched the red bow tie he wore around his neck. A silent request that he could easily give in...even if this was his favorite. He reached behind himself to loosen and pull off the tie.

"Now you make sure to take good care of this." She nodded as he wrapped it while not too tightly around her wrist. "When you don't have that blanket around your neck you can have someone help you properly put it on. " He chuckled and she giggled with him, finally giving him that smile he would always remember.

Satisfied he gave her one last hug before leading her up to the steps of the place to the person waiting. The pair waited at the door as Toadsworth headed to the others. Both sets of people waved one final time before the toads took off in the direction of home.

They began to walk. The other two toads made small talk about random stuff and looking forward to getting home for the day, Toadsworth was quiet. Peach was finally the one step away from getting the life she deserves and yet here he was with an empty feeling in his heart. He knew that with time this feeling would dissipate but how long would that take? How could something or someone being in his life for such a short amount of time cause him to be feeling like this? If he was willing to put in the effort could he have been the best guardian for her?

For the umpteenth time that day, he was lost in his thoughts and not paying attention he bumped into one of the toads who stopped suddenly. Toadsworth was about to ask why they stopped until he heard her crying and footsteps right behind him, the woman slightly behind calling out her name.

"Daddy! I want you" she called out to him jumping into his arms when he turned around. He easily caught her and was only shocked momentarily before he tightly held onto her. Peach continued repeating the second statement.

Toadsworth was caught up on what she called him. He felt that his heart would leap right out of his chest. The other toads stood there watching the scene in just as much shock.

"Peach" was really the only word he could say as she clutched tightly to the back of his vest.

"I think she already knows where she wants to call home" The woman said aloud with a smile.

"Hmm... Peach, is that true? Do you want to stay with us?" Toadsworth asked, trying to pull her away to face him. A futile effort as she held on tighter in order to stay in place. She nodded her head frantically.

At her age, she seemed to have complete trust in him to do right by her and wouldn't take anyone else for an answer. He still wasn't sure if he could do it all alone and was about to return her to the lady when another thought came to mind. Like all the children in their little village, everyone did their part to make sure they were well taken care of. They would adjust accordingly as she grew and she would surely be fine. They could only really give her their best so that is what they would do if she would allow them.

"Alright dear I hear you loud and clear. We'll honor your decision." He said, patting her back in a soothing motion.

#Key Posts #For some reason I feel like I added a lot of unnecessary things into this but at the same time it's like... its needed lmao #finished this last night but got too sleepy to actually post it so I am doing it 20 mins before I have to leave haha #Anyways I hope you guys have a lovely day and you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.#random note I have the deafen key on my laptop set to 'n' and have typed it so many times and I've heard that 'ding' sound so many times #ugh #Super Mario

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley hadn't stopped thinking about you since Monday. When Bob decided they needed a Team Mom, he sees an opportunity he can't pass up.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

When Bradley arrived on base Tuesday morning, he saw Bob right away.

"I can't thank you enough, Rooster. Piper had so much fun yesterday, and I really think this is going to be good for her. The other kids seemed excited too."

Bradley zipped up his flight suit and grabbed his helmet. "The kids were easier to instruct than I expected. They made it fun." His mind automatically pictured Everett. And Everett's mom.

"So you'll be back for practice on Thursday?" Bob asked, reaching for his own helmet.

Bradley scoffed. "You think I'm going to bail on the Tiny Eagles? No way. We have a championship to win, and I plan on being named coach of the year."

Bob laughed. "That's the spirit."

Nat strolled over, sipping coffee inside the hangar even though you weren't supposed to. "How was pee wee football?" she asked with a smirk.

"We've been over this before, Phoenix," Bob said with a sigh. "It's tee ball."

"She's just fucking with you," Bradley said, looking from side to side before he stole Nat's coffee and took a big sip.

She groaned in response. "Just finish it," she told him. "So, tee ball? How was that?"

"Fun!" Bob exclaimed. "Piper loved it. All the kids were great. And all the moms came up at the end of practice to introduce themselves and tell us we did a great job."

Nat burst out laughing as Bradley finished her coffee. "Yeah... I'll bet they did! They would probably love to show you two even more gratitude."

Bob looked confused, but Bradley just smiled against the coffee cup. "Moms are not my type. I told you that already, Nat." But he felt like such a liar. He could picture you so clearly in his mind, and he could remember how your voice sounded. Really, he was more excited about practice on Thursday than he should be, simply because you and Everett were going to be there.

Maybe he would wear a Phillies hat to match with Everett.

"Rooster... every woman is your type," Nat said, patting him on the shoulder as she grabbed her helmet and headed for her Super Hornet.

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

Work was insanely busy, and Thursday arrived before you knew it. You were still answering client emails when Frank knocked on your door at lunchtime.

"Come in!" you called, and thankfully he brought you a sandwich. You jumped up at the prospect of actually having something to eat, but Frank wrapped you in his arms before you could take a bite.

"I've missed you all week. You work too hard," he whispered, placing a soft kiss next to your ear. "Wanna come over this weekend?"

You should say yes, especially since Everett was going to have a sleepover at your sister's house. Plus, this would be your last free Saturday for a while, since tee ball games would be starting up.

"I'll have to let you know," you told him as his lips connected with yours.

But you were thinking about how it might feel to kiss Coach Bradley with his mustache.

Where had that thought come from? You let out a startled gasp, and Frank slipped his tongue between your lips.

Bradley would definitely be a better kisser than this.

"Frank," you managed to say. "I'm starving, and I have so much work to do."

He sighed and squeezed your waist through your suit. "Try to come over this weekend, okay baby?"

You just nodded and unwrapped the sandwich as he left. Only four more hours until tee ball practice. You couldn't believe you were as ridiculous as the other moms, but here you were, thinking about your kid's coach while you ate lunch.

But it didn't stop there. After you picked Everett up at school, he rambled on about tee ball and his coaches for the entire drive to the ballfield. And you started thinking about Bradley again.

"Can we go see the Phillies play again this year?" Everett asked as you pulled into the parking lot.

"You know, Ev, it was supposed to be a surprise. They play the Padres on a Sunday afternoon, and I've been planning on getting us tickets."

After hesitating for a beat, you parked next to the Bronco again, which you were smart enough to know was a really dumb thing to do.

"Yes! Can we take Coach Bradley with us too?"

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. "Sweetie, he's your coach during tee ball hours. I don't think he's going to have time to go to a baseball game with us."

Everett jumped out of the car and looked up at you as you took his hand. "But he likes the Phillies. I think he might want to go."

Once again you changed into your sneakers while you walked across the grass. You didn't want to get your son's hopes up, and you couldn't help but think that he wouldn't be so starved for attention if Danny came around more often. Your ex was legitimately the worst.

"We can talk about it later, okay?"

You almost tripped over your own feet when you looked up and saw Bradley. He was talking to one of the overzealous moms, and he had his arms crossed over his chest, nodding along with whatever was being said. His biceps looked good, but you also immediately noticed the Phillies hat on his head.

Bradley's eyes shifted to the side as you approached the bleachers, and he kind of smirked at you. He didn't even seem to notice when the other mom placed her hand on his forearm. But you did. You wished it was you touching him instead.

"Mommy, I need my bag," Everett said, and you shifted your attention to your son. You helped him get his cleats on, and then you waited for the coaches to blow the whistle to start practice.

"Can I have everyone's attention for a minute?"

You looked up to see Bob heading toward the bleachers where all of the parents were sitting. So you took the spot next to Everett on the bottom row, and Bradley shifted to stand closer to your end.

"I just wanted to reiterate how excited we are to coach your kids this season," Bob said. "Coach Bradley and I have worked out most of the scheduling and whatnot, but we do need to have a Team Mom or Team Dad to help us with some tasks. Things like bringing extra snacks and drinks, and being in charge of sending out texts if the weather is bad. Also they would need to be available to help us with anything else that might come up."

You let your gaze shift from Bob to Bradley, and he was already looking at you. He nodded once as his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" Bob asked. Almost every mom around you raised her hand without hesitation.

Bradley didn't look away from you, and it was making you feel flushed. He slowly, purposefully put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow as if to say c'mon, raise your hand.

You didn't have time to be the Team Mom. You didn't even really want to be the damn Team Mom. It was something extra that you really didn't need to do.

But... you felt your hand slip up into the air as if gravity no longer had any hold over it. Bradley's smile grew as you sat in front of him like a little girl hoping he would call on you.

Just as Bob was about to choose a different parent, Bradley nudged him with his elbow to stop him.

"Right here," Bradley announced, nodding and gesturing to you. "She's our Team Mom." You slowly lowered your hand, and you felt a little giddy at being selected.

Bob looked a little confused with the abrupt decision, but he just smiled at you and said, "Sounds good. Thanks for volunteering. Now let's get started with our practice."

He blew his whistle, and Everett launched off the bench. You could hear him tell Bradley, "You wore a Phillies hat! Just like me!"

Bradley laughed and said, "Sure did, kiddo. Thought we could match." He glanced at you one more time before he led the kids out onto the field.

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

Bradley shouldn't feel so proud of himself right now. But he did anyway. He didn't even know what he was playing at with you. But as soon as Bob told him they needed a team parent, he wanted it to be you.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath as he set the ball on the tee for Henry to try to hit. You were probably married. Bradley probably just made himself look like an ass. But you raised your hand anyway when he tried to silently encourage you to.

"Nice hit, Henry!" Bob said, and Bradley clapped as the kid ran for first base.

Bradley set the ball up again, this time for Everett.

"You ready?" Bradley asked, earning him a big smile. "Just keep your swing nice and steady."

He watched Everett absolutely nail the ball and hit it right past Bob. He looked up at Bradley in surprise.

"Run, Ev! Run to first base!"

Bradley watched him take off like a shot and run past Bob, only stopping once he had stomped on the base.

When Bradley glanced over to where you were sitting, the smile on your face had him fumbling to get the ball back on the tee. You waved your fingers toward where Everett was jumping up and down, and then you looked at Bradley and bit your lip. Then you waved your fingers at him too before ducking your head.

He forced his focus back to the next batter who also hit it hard enough to take a base.

"These kids are actually good," Bradley told Bob as he helped guide Amber to first base while Bob pointed Everett to second. "But we need to practice running bases next week."

"Can't wait to play the Tiny Hawks next weekend," Bob said. "The Eagles are looking good."

Bradley and Bob high fived as the kids all gathered around them in the infield at the end of practice. "Great practice, Tiny Eagles," Bradley told them. "Now get some good rest this weekend, and we will see you on Monday for our next practice!"

The kids all started to run toward the bleachers, and the coaches followed them at a more leisurely pace. "Damn," Bradley muttered when he looked toward the parking lot.

When Bob gave him a concerned look, Bradley shook his head and said, "Everett's hot mom parked by me again. I've actually been thinking about her since Monday."

Bob's mouth dropped open. "You mean the Team Mom?"

"Yeah," Bradley whispered, nearing the bleachers and watching you switch Everett's cleats for sneakers.

"You have a crush on our Team Mom?" Bob asked a little too loudly for Bradley's liking. "That's why you picked her? Is that a good idea?"

Bradley just shrugged and took a deep breath. "Too late now, yeah?"

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

You felt a tingle wash down your spine and goosebumps break out on your skin. You glanced to your left, and sure enough, the coaches were standing right there. Bob was looking at you, and Bradley was running one hand over his face and readjusting his Phillies cap.

Maybe you had imagined it. But you could still remember how he was looking at you, goading you, urging you wordlessly to raise your hand earlier.

Because he had a crush on the Team Mom? On you? There was no way.

But as you stood, Bradley headed in your direction. He smelled good again, and he was so handsome. And his voice was so deep. You really wished your other two senses had experience with him as well.

"Team Mom," he said with a smile. "Can Bob and I get your phone number for future correspondence and incidentals?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, and when he handed you his phone, you added your name and number for him.

"Thanks again for volunteering," he said with a smirk.

You didn't know what to say, and you could feel your face growing warm as your nose scrunched up in embarrassment. "No problem," you managed, but instead of leaving, he inched closer, and his smile grew.

"I hope you don't feel like I pressured you."

You just shook your head, mesmerized by the low register of his voice. "No. I'm happy to do it."

Everett suddenly popped up next to you, standing on the bleachers. "Mommy, check to see if Coach Bradley wants to come with us to see the Phillies this year. Please?"

You turned back toward Bradley, about to tell him that Everett was just being overzealous, but Bradley was grinning at Everett and adjusting the bill of his cap.

"I don't know if your dad would like that, kiddo," Bradley said, examining your face carefully.

But then Everett's face really lit up. "He wouldn't care! He doesn't even live with us anymore."

You scrunched your nose again in embarrassment. Nothing like having your kid basically announce to a hot guy that your ex husband ditched you.

But Bradley's lips curved into a smirk. "How about your mom and I talk about it, kiddo?" he asked, and Everett gave him a high five. "Now that I have your number?"

You just nodded as you started to shove everything you brought into the gear bag.

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

You had scrunched your nose up again, just like a kitten, and Bradley felt the urge to reach out and touch you. He'd love to take you and Ev to a baseball game. He thought he might even like to hang out with you one on one, now that he knew Everett's dad didn't live with you any longer. But now he was wondering if you were single or seeing someone else.

Bradley watched you hurriedly packing up Everett's gear while he ran off to say bye to Bob. But Bradley didn't walk away, instead he texted you so you would have his contact information as well.

When you checked your phone, you looked up at him again and laughed. "Your name is Bradley Bradshaw? Brad Brad?"

He groaned and pretended to be annoyed, but he really wasn't. "My parents probably thought they were hilarious."

Your laughter had him grinning again. "It's not a bad name! I'm sorry I laughed." But you were still laughing.

"You're not sorry," he said with a playful glare.

When you scrunched your nose again and ducked away from him, you said, "No, I'm not."

Then Everett streaked back over and asked Bradley to walk to the parking lot with the two of you, and Bradley was helpless to say no.

"You have fun again today?" Bradley asked him as he bounced around, full of energy.

"Yes! I even hit the ball!"

"Yeah, you hit it hard. You'll be a power hitter when you make it to the major league. We just need to work on your fielding."

You were smiling but looking straight ahead at your car.

"What position do you like to play?" Everett asked, eyes wide as he looked up at Bradley.

"Usually shortstop. Sometimes second base."

"Did you used to play for the Padres or something?" Everett asked, completely in awe.

Bradley just laughed. "No, kiddo. I played in college. Then I joined the Navy, because I definitely was not good enough to play for the Padres."

"You're in the Navy?" you asked him as Bradley opened Everett's door and took the gear bag from your shoulder. Even touching your body through your suit coat was enough to require Bradley to take an extra breath before answering you.

"Yeah. So is Bob. We're both aviators."

"Wow," you whispered. "Impressive."

"Mommy! I'm hungry!" Everett called from the backseat as Bradley placed the bag on the floor.

"Me too, Ev. I'll get dinner ready as soon as we get home," you promised him, and Bradley could tell you were a good mom. You kind of reminded him of Carole Bradshaw, if he was being honest.

"Be good, and listen to your mom," Bradley told Everett as he closed the back door and then opened yours. "See you on Monday."

"See you then," you replied softly, slipping into your seat before Bradley gently closed your door.

He waved at Everett who was reaching his arm out the window as you pulled away, and then he climbed into the Bronco and headed to the Hard Deck.

Bob was already there when Bradley arrived, and Nat was on them right away. "You two look adorable in your matching Tiny Eagles jerseys."

"Thanks, Nat. I feel adorable. Do you feel adorable, Bob?"

Bob just blushed and walked away with his cup of peanuts.

"So how are the moms treating you?" Nat asked as they both waited for drinks at the bar.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Just fine."

"Are you hooking up with one of them yet?" she asked casually.

"What the fuck, Nat? No! I'm there to coach the kids!"

"Chill, Rooster! It's so easy to get you riled up when you're trying to hide something! Bob said you have a crush on one of the moms."

He just shook his head and thanked Jimmy for his beer. "I don't. She's just cute is all. Not my type. Never gonna be my type," he promised, heading toward the pool table. And as if he was trying to make his point to Nat, he chatted up the first woman who approached him and left with her number. He wasn't going to call her, but Nat didn't need to know that.

He didn't even save the number in his phone, because yours was already in there.

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

In an effort to get that mustache and those biceps out of your mind, you called Frank on Saturday afternoon and agreed to head over to his place.

He never cooks in his condo kitchen, and he hates when anything is messy, so you're not sure if you want to stay over or not. But you pack a bag just in case.

When you get there, he has Thai takeout waiting along with a bottle of prosecco. "I'm glad you decided to come over," Frank whispered, running his hand up along your leggings while you tried to eat.

"Yeah," you agreed halfheartedly. "Me too."

How had your life been reduced to this? Sleeping with a man you didn't have feelings for after ending a marriage to a man who never loved you? You wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it for too long.

"Let's head to the bedroom," he told you, snatching you out of your seat as soon as you finished your last bite of food.

As Frank ran his hands along your body and undressed you, it was easy enough to close your eyes and let your mind drift a little bit. Then his hands felt good, running up your sides and removing your shirt. It felt nice when he removed your bra and squeezed your breasts. It was even lovely when he pushed you down onto his bed and pressed you into the mattress with his weight. But when he started fucking you, it was just so mediocre. He somehow lasted too long, and you knew that you'd never be able to get off with him tonight.

"You're so sexy, baby. Am I making you feel good?" Frank asked you softly.

You let your disappointment wash over you, but Frank didn't seem to notice the sad little gasps you made as he came before withdrawing himself and removing the condom.

You checked your phone as you got dressed, and you nearly dropped it on the floor. You had a text from Bradley. A screenshot of ticket options for the Phillies vs Padres game the following month.

Bradley Bradshaw: Do you think Ev would prefer to sit behind home plate or in the outfield?

Now your heart was beating faster. Now you felt a little silly inside. Now you could imagine getting yourself worked up for a healthy orgasm.

"Everything okay? You keep looking at your phone," Frank said as he pulled his underwear back on.

"Actually...." you started, and the lie was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "It's my sister. I need to go pick up Everett. But thanks for dinner."

Frank kissed you softly, holding your body against his before you broke away with a quick goodnight. You practically ran across the parking lot and jumped into your car with a smile on your face. Then you responded to the text.

Everett is going to think any seat is the best seat.

Bradley responded almost immediately, which shocked you since it was eight o'clock on Saturday night.

Bradley Bradshaw: Well then why don't you tell me where you'd like to sit.

You pictured yourself sitting in his lap, and you felt very warm. When you started your car, you turned on the air conditioner as you drove away.

His lap.

You could picture yourself there so easily, like you'd already spent time snuggled up with him.

What was wrong with you?! You barely knew this man!

It only took you five minutes to get to your house, and as soon as you walked in, your hand was sliding down inside the front of your leggings and into your underwear. You eased yourself down onto your couch as you touched yourself exactly how Frank never seemed to be able to.

You stroked your clit just right with your middle finger, and then you came so quickly, it surprised you.

When you caught your breath, you located your phone and responded.

Your call, Coach. What view do you like the best?

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

Bradley was sitting at his kitchen island, considering all the filthy things he wanted to send back to you.

You were definitely flirting with him now, right? You had to be single, right?

He quickly typed out his response and hit send before he could change his mind.

Any seat where I can see you.

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

I am thrilled by how much love you all had for the first part of this story! I hope you keep on loving Coach Bradley! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 3

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