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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 days

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Bad Day

Summary: The reader's been kidnapped while working a lead in Montana. But her old friend Beau doesn't seem all that thrilled when he finds her...

Pairing: Beau x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, minor kidnapping

A/N: Wrote a little Beau to get over some writer's block. Enjoy!

_________

You sighed behind the tape over your mouth. God this was embarrassing. Held hostage by a pair of idiot drug dealers. You couldn’t believe it. To be fair, you weren’t expecting a guy to come around the corner of the house with a shotgun in hand.

A door kicked in nearby, your eyes darting to the left. A familiar shadow fell over the room, your shoulders relaxing as Beau cleared the space, jaw hard set. He frowned as he approached you, kneeling down slowly, careful as he pulled the tape away.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, leaning you forward slightly so he could cut through the zip ties behind you.

“Only hurt my pride,” you said, stretching your arms out in front of you. Beau’s face was grim though and churn formed in your gut. “Did someone get hurt?”

“No,” he said, pulling you to your feet. He grabbed the radio off his belt, focus back on the doorway. “I got her. She looks alright but make sure a paramedic looks her over.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, not expecting the cold shoulder from Beau of all people.

“Just be quiet until we get the all clear.” You took your turn to frown. You’d known Beau a long time. Hell, he’d been your senior partner when you were a rookie back in Houston when he was still doing street patrols. It hadn’t been that long a run as partners but you’d always been friends, would run your cases by each other. Shit, that’s the whole reason you were up here, Beau helping you with a case you tracked this way. He didn’t still see you as that kid who didn’t know anything, did he?

After getting caught though, who the hell knew. You were disappointed in yourself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were too.

A long sixty seconds passed before everyone had checked in, Beau’s stance easing. You brushed past him and went upstairs, find your own way outside and over to an ambulance pulling up the drive. They examined you, wrapping up a scrape you’d gotten on your arm but otherwise you were fine.

Beau stormed out of the house grumpily as they were finishing, stalking over to where you sat at the end of the open abundance.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah. Minor bumps and bruises.”

“My officers are bringing two suspects out of the woods any minute. I’m told they’ll need medical attention.” Beau nodded towards a red truck and then his large hand was wrapped loosely around your bicep. You stared at him as he urged you forward, scanning the area once before your gaze shot to where he was focused straight ahead.

“I can walk on my own,” you said, tugging on your arm once but Beau ignored you. You opened your mouth but he ripped open the passenger side door, practically shoving you inside. You glared when he slammed the door shut, Beau behind the wheel quickly. “What do you think-”

“Can you just-” He bit his tongue, backing the truck out as you shook your head.

“What the hell is your problem? Yeah, I let two guys get the jump on me. That doesn't make me weak or a bad cop. It certainly doesn’t give you the right to treat me l-like I’m some sort of idiot. I asked your for help because my trail led me up here. I found that, that was my work. I am not-”

“Y/N, could you stop for one fucking second?” Beau snapped. He quickly pulled over and got out of the vehicle, walking on the shoulder. He stopped ten feet away from the truck, leaning over, hands on his knees, head tucked down low. You slipped outside, one hand on the door.

“Beau?” You took a few steps closer, Beau righting himself, hands on his hips. “What’s wrong?”

He laughed dryly, lowering his head as he spun around.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he asked back, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders as he raised his head to face you. “Em found a dead body five months ago. She was kidnapped. I barely managed to convince Carla to let Em stay so I could be there for her. I have just, just stopped hating myself for not being able to protect her and what happens again? Another fucking person I love gets kidnapped.”

“Beau…” You stepped closer, grabbing one of his hands as he took a deep breath. “I’m a cop. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I don’t care if you are capable, Y/N.” Worried green eyes watched you, an unease in them you didn’t like. “You are still mine to protect.”

You wanted to argue that you weren’t weak but his hand cupped your cheek in a so not friendly way, sliding back to your ear to brush a sweaty strand of hair aside.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, his hand starting to pull away. You caught it, Beau leaving it on your shoulder, playing with the ends of your hair. “Beau.”

“I should have been investigating with you. You could have been so hurt, darlin’.”

“For a chatterbox you know how to avoid a question, don’t you?” His lip nearly twitched up at that and you smiled softly. “Talk to me, Barlen.”

“Such a stupid nickname,” he chided, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You always liked it.”

“I did.” He swallowed thickly, tracing his thumb over your lip again. “You were always a good friend but when you came up to Montana without me even calling when you heard about Em…you were so good with her, keeping her mind off stuff while I found us that bigger place…I think I finally saw you for the first time. I was so goddamn scared you would get hurt today. I couldn’t think straight and I have only felt that helpless on other case before. Em’s.”

Beau leaned in close, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pressing soft, moist lips against you. It was slow, oh so slow, but you could feel the heat behind it. The need for more. He moved away too soon though, fixing your hair once more as he did so.

“I didn’t mean to be an ass earlier. I just…didn’t want my team seeing me freaking out.”

“...We will discuss that later,” you said, wrapping your arms around his trim waist. He raised an eyebrow as you smiled. “Come on, we both had bad days. Give me a hug and kiss to make it better.”

“You…what are you saying?” You playfully growled, pressing your forehead against his strong body. “Do you…like me too?”

“It’s a miracle you were married once before. We’ll figure out labels tomorrow. Just kiss me, Barlen.”

“Fine, but only cause I was holding back on that last one.”

__________

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #beau x reader #beau arlen fanfic #big sky fanfic #beau arlen x #beau arlen x you

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fuckaperioddrama · 28 days

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Sunday Morning | Blaise Zabini

Warnings: N/A

All Fluff | G/N Reader

Author's Note: A very small blurb. I wrote this at 1am while listening to Whitney Houston. I feel like I should start a series for things I’m inspired to write after listening to music early in the morning. Half of my drafts are inspired by songs I found myself dancing to between 1:00 - 5:00 AM.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

Masterlist

Summary: Being in love and savoring every second of it.

Your laughter echoed through the room as Blaise spun you in his arms. His fingers lightly touched the hand above your head as his other hand grabbed onto your waist. Once you were facing him he smiled at you and lowered your hands slowly, now holding them to his chest.

As you moved around the room, candles illuminated the space, casting a warm yellow hue against the skin of your bodies. The storm outside competed with the sounds playing from the victrola on Blaise's desk. The pitter-patter of raindrops and cracks of thunder overpowered the music, but neither of you seemed to mind.

It was Sunday, your favorite day as it was the one where your boyfriend was completely and utterly yours. No studying, no friends, no quidditch, his only focus was you.

Blaise had planned a picnic, but the weather decided against that. Upon waking up to the thunder outside you and Blaise rearranged your plans for a lazy Sunday in.

Your ruined date was soon forgotten as you basked in the feeling of holding each other in bed. Your cheek rested against his chest with his hands slowly moving up and down your back. You spent hours wrapped up in the covers. There were no responsibilities, no engagements and no commitments other than to each other.

Now you were wrapped in his arms as you two swayed to the music, feeling yourself fall deeper and deeper in love with the man before you. Blaise was your happy place. He made you feel safe and loved and you could tell he felt the same. The once serious and emotionless guy before you now twirling around his room without a care in the world.

You watched him, the feeling of admiration overpowering your mind. Sometimes it was overwhelming, all of the love you had for him. It’s easy to imagine what love could be like, but to experience it is another feeling within itself. It’s indescribable what you have with Blaise. How someone could come into your life one day out of the blue and in a matter of months they become your lifeline. This person you spent years not knowing existed has somehow overtaken your entire sense of being.

Sunday before felt like just another day. Now it’s the one day you can’t live without. The day you get to spend with him.

The music slowed to a stop. Blaise moved his hand from yours and lightly slid it across your cheek. The warmth of his skin contrasted the cold air of the dungeons and you couldn’t help but lean into him, easily giving yourself over.

“What are you thinking about?” Blaise asked as he pulled you closer and rested his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he gave himself over to you too; the feeling of you, the smell of you, all of you.

“I love you,” you smiled tilting your head up to press a kiss against his lips. The once small peck turned deeper and a moan of contentment escaped the both of you.

The beginning notes of the next track started to play and Blaise slowly moved one hand to the back of your head as the other kept its hold on your waist. You gasped as you felt your body dip towards the ground.

Blaise lifted you back up and spun you into him with your back now against his chest. Soft kisses traveled up your neck before landing against your ear. He took the lobe between his teeth, nibbling slightly as his hands slid lower and lower down your body. “I love you too.”

Blaise moved you both over to the bed, lying you down and crawling on top of you. He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, moving to your chest and stomach before stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “I love you so much.”

—-

#blaise zabini #slytherin boys #Slytherin boys fluff #blaise zabini x reader

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tweaktweakkk · 4 months

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Getonmyelevel

#spun nation #smoke meth #houston spun

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months

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Lavender - Ch. 25

You bond with a student and try to take matters into your own hands at the clinic. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-24 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut! (Unprotected P in V sex - don't be dumb), canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+.

Length: 5.6k

Tuesday, September 14, 2021 - Five and a Half Years Later

“So fucking cool.”

The small girl standing in the corner of your classroom hadn’t noticed you yet.

You’d gone down to refill your water bottle at the start of your lunch period, leaving an empty classroom and coming back to find a girl you didn’t know running her fingers over the worn spines of the books on the bookshelf you’d made out of scrap wood and cinderblocks. You just watched her silently for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, as she worked her way to the mural of the solar system you had on one wall. You’d been meaning to touch it up but it kept falling to the bottom of the list of things to get done.

The girl didn’t seem to mind, craning her neck as she took it in.

“Strong language,” you said, finally speaking up. She jumped and spun, her eyes wide.

“Shit,” she said. You smiled.

“I don’t bite,” you said, pushing off the doorframe and going for your desk. “Though I’d appreciate if you cut down on the swearing in my classroom.”

“Sorry,” she said. She looked around the room a bit more, her fingers tapping on desks as she did.

“You’re not one of my students,” you said, sitting down and taking a sip of water before grabbing some jerky out of your bag.

“How do you know?” She frowned.

“Well, I know my students, for starters,” you smiled a little. “But also, I’m guessing you’re a year or two young for my classes yet. How old are you?”

“I’m 12,” she said. “I think, anyway. Not really sure about my birth date.”

You nodded slowly.

“So you’re not one of my students,” you said, watching her. “And you’re too young to be in my classes. But you’re in my classroom. So, tiny human, what brings you by?”

She smiled a little at the title.

“I had some science questions and my friend told me that I should come talk to you because you were cool,” she said. “And that you’d probably help me find the shi…stuff I was looking for.”

“Dang,” you shook your head.

She frowned.

“What?”

“Your friend said I was cool?” You asked. She nodded. “Well now I’m going to just have to do whatever you want, my primary goal has always been to make teenagers think I’m cool. Who’s your friend?”

“Riley?” She asked it more than said it.

“Dang,” you said again. “Riley’s a good kid, that makes it worse. Alright, what do you want to know about?”

“She said everyone calls you Doc,” she said. “So are you like a doctor doctor or someone who just got a bunch of degrees and shi…stuff before the world ended?”

“Doctor doctor,” you said. “So if you have questions about biology, I’m your gal. Other stuff I might need to do some research on.”

“Oh,” her face fell a little bit.

“I can do some research though,” you shrugged. “I like research.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “Pretty much the whole reason I became a scientist to begin with, research is fun. So tell me what you want to know about and I’ll see what I can find for you.”

“I really want to know about space,” she said, sitting at the desk closest to yours in the front row. “It’s just so fuck…freaking cool and huge and we only just started sending people up there before the world ended and we never really got to do anything with it…”

“Space is very cool,” you said, getting up from your desk and going to the bookshelves. “I lived in Texas for a while. I went to the space center in Houston with a friend and his daughter once. Definitely something to see…. How comfortable are you reading? Do you like reading? Good at it?”

“Reading’s cool,” she shrugged. “I like comics best but I read other stuff, too.”

“If I’m grabbing anything that’s too hard, just let me know,” you said. “Any specific questions you have about space?”

“Mostly what people actually did up there,” she said. “People left the freakin’ planet, do you know how cool that is?”

You smiled a little. That was pretty cool.

“OK,” you said, making a small pile of magazines and one book. “These are the magazines I have that talk about space a lot. Give those a read, tell me what you think is most interesting and I’ll find you more about that. Go ahead and make a list about any questions you have, too. Either words or concepts you don’t know or anything you want more information about, I’ll see what I can answer for you and then I’ll find you answers for the rest. And then, for fun, there’s A Wrinkle in Time, a book about traveling through space time. I think you’ll like Meg, she’s the best.”

You grabbed a clipboard with a piece of paper and a pen on it, handing it to her.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need your name to loan these out to you, though,” you said. “Put your name, the date, and just write space stuff on the ‘what I’m borrowing’ line, I’ll know what you mean.”

She took the clipboard and filled it out. You took it back, looking at her blocky writing.

“OK Ellie,” you handed her the pile. “Think you can come back by a week from today and bring back what you’ve finished? Doesn’t have to be everything, I just like keeping an eye on my library.”

“I can do that,” she nodded. She glanced quickly at a corner of your classroom where you’d set up some beanbags before looking back to you. “Thanks for…”

“Want to sit and read in the beanbags unit your next class?” You asked. Her face lit up. You smiled a little. “Go make yourself at home. You can come by here at lunch and read anytime you want, my door is open.”

“Cool,” she smiled, taking a magazine to the corner and flopping down on the bean bag. You pressed play on the tape deck at your desk, a mix tape that someone had probably made for a girlfriend decades ago but it had a good mix of music to it. You turned the volume down low and read while eating, glancing up at the small girl curled up on the beanbags now and then.

Ellie read, a serious look on her small face, until the bell rang. She looked surprised that time had passed so quickly but she gathered her things and stopped at your desk.

“It’s really OK if I just come here at lunch?” She asked. “Riley has a different lunch period than me this year so I don’t really have anyone to sit with…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Come by anytime. And don’t forget to take those notes so we can do some research, OK?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

You hoped Ellie would keep coming back. She was clearly a bright and curious kid, this school was almost certainly failing her at every opportunity.

The school had never been great. It was part of the reason why you stayed, you felt someone needed to be invested in the students and their education and if no one else was going to do it you were. But it had been steadily declining the last few years, just like the rest of the QZ.

A lot of infrastructure that had just been hanging on since the outbreak started to fold around the 15 year mark, more now that you were closing in on 20. It had been two years since you’d last had hot water, the hot water heater in your apartment going out after being repaired half a dozen times in the years prior. It finally gave up the ghost and so, too, had hot showers. Buildings badly needed repair and maintenance and the Fireflies had continued to make things worse by blowing up the stuff that didn’t.

It seemed like the school you taught at now was just doing what it could to bring students up to be soldiers, not give them a proper education. When you’d started here, FEDRA needed people who could do a multitude of things, so a comprehensive education was necessary. The last few years, they just wanted muscle. Muscle didn’t need to know about the nervous system or the water cycle or the history of the United States. You were half waiting for FEDRA to drop all the pretext and stop educating students entirely. But, in the mean time, you tried to make your classroom a safe space for them, give them access to as much information as you possibly could.

Your value to the QZ as a doctor gave you some leeway here, too. You were pretty sure they wouldn’t tolerate your methods and would just do away with you if you weren’t one of the few medical resources the QZ had.

Of course, that value was seeming more and more limited now, too. FEDRA kept cutting back on resources. Most of the drugs that came in were opioids now, hardly anything for actual treatment, just managing symptoms. Tess was checking pharmacies for you on every run now and you were going out more and more frequently to find what you needed - Joel a silent wall who pretended you didn’t exist and you mostly happy to do the same. Even though you caught yourself looking at him more often than you cared to admit.

Derek was less than thrilled with the situation. He still didn’t know much about Joel - your history became even easier to hide once you started actively avoiding him again - but he didn’t like your leaving the QZ so much.

“There has to be another option,” he said one night as you were getting ready for bed, your bag packed and ready to leave in the morning. “It’s dangerous out there…”

“Trust me, I’m not exactly itching to go out there,” you said, rubbing the lotion you’d left at Derek’s house into your hands before climbing into bed. “It’s hardly a picnic. But FEDRA hasn’t really given me another choice.”

“Do you think other QZs have people out risking their lives to see what drugs they can scavenge?” He asked without giving you a chance to answer as he got into bed beside you. “Because I can just about promise you, they don’t. It’s not reasonable for you to be going out there all the time, you can’t help anybody if you get yourself killed…”

“Then I’ll just try really hard not to die,” you kissed him. “It doesn’t matter if no one else is out there doing what I’m doing. I just can’t live with myself if I’m not doing everything I can. Soon things will be gone or so far out of date that they’re useless regardless of dosage so this is kind of a finite thing, anyway. But for now we have these resources so I intend to use them.”

“I still don’t like it…”

“Can we not fight the night before I leave?” You asked, pressing yourself against him. “I can think of way better ways to spend our time…”

You kissed him and, at first, he reluctantly kissed you back. But it didn’t take long before his hand went to your ass, fingers sinking into your flesh, pulling your hips tight to his. He rolled you onto your back, nestling himself between your legs as your arms went around his neck, grinding his hips down against yours. You groaned into his mouth as his hands slid down your body to your underwear, hooking his fingers in them and tugging them down, tossing them aside before sinking two fingers into you.

“See?” You said, grinding against his hand. “Way better than fighting.”

He just bit your lower lip in response, making you laugh. You shoved his pants down before nudging him into sitting up. You moved with him, straddling him, reaching between your bodies to grip his cock while his thumb rubbed your clit. He quickly added two fingers to your pussy, pressing into you firmly as he kissed down to your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth. You rose up on your knees just enough to notch his head against your entrance and slowly took him inside you, his face buried in your neck as you did.

You rode him slowly, rising and falling on him in long, firm strokes as his hands and mouth ranged over your body, his hips pressing up into yours so his cock would bottom out inside you.

“Don’t want to lose you,” he groaned, his mouth against your throat.

“You won’t,” you gasped back, your body tightening around his cock. His arms went around your waist, pulling you so tight to him that the only way either of you could move was him thrusting up into you, his face buried in your chest. The tip of him pressed into the place inside you that made your head spin and you came around him with a shuddering gasp, his orgasm not far behind.

His grip on you loosened after he filled you, his head tipping back to look you in the eye.

“Promise you’re coming home to me, Love,” he said.

You kissed him gently.

“Promise.”

The trip had been relatively uneventful. You’d run into one group of raiders, but you’d heard them coming soon enough that you and Tess were able to stash yourselves safely away while Joel talked with them and they moved on, no blood spilt. You came home with only a few dozen usable bottles. You knew you had a year, maybe two left of being able to scavenge anything like this at all. You weren’t sure what anyone was going to do then.

You were still thinking about Ellie that afternoon at the clinic. It had been so long since you had a student seek out knowledge quite that aggressively. You really really hoped she came back. You were going to tell Andrew about her but he just looked exhausted.

“You practically have a kindergartener,” you teased. “There’s no way you can blame lack of sleep on the kid.”

“I can blame it on the future kid,” he groaned. “Jess was tossing and turning all night, she’s at the severe discomfort stage.”

“As a medical professional, I can tell you that all stages of pregnancy are the severe discomfort stage,” you smiled. He glared at you. “But yeah, she’s getting pretty far along.”

“I think she’s ready to come here, hand you a scalpel and say ‘please cut this thing out of me,’” he said. “She’s so done, wants to have the baby here and skip the rest of the pregnancy and labor part.”

“If only,” you said. “How is young Miss Elizabeth by the way? I haven’t seen her this week.”

“Eating everything in sight,” he said. “Think she’s having another growth spurt…”

“Does she need cookies?” You asked. “Because I can make cookies.”

You’d become enraptured with Andrew and Jess’ daughter, Elizabeth, from the second she was born. You could watch her do anything and everything, wanted to give her whatever her heart desired.

Jess had asked for you and Andrew with her when she gave birth and watching that little girl draw her first breath had been one of the best moments of your life, even as it was tinged in the bittersweet thought that you’d never experience that with your own child. They’d named her Elizabeth, after Jess’ mom, but had given her the middle name Sarah in honor of the girl who you’d loved like a daughter. You sobbed the first time you held her, her soft perfection blurry behind your tears.

“I think we will pass on the sugar high, thank you Auntie Doc,” he smiled.

“Hey Doc,” Kristen hung her torso into the waiting room. “Need you on a consult.”

“Cookie offer still stands,” you said as you headed back. “If she wants cookies, I’ll make cookies.”

You could practically hear him roll his eyes. You looked to Kristen.

“Whatcha got?” You asked.

“Well, it’s basic,” she said, keeping her voice low. “But there’s a pattern…”

She opened up the chart. It was for a woman you’d treated before, Penny. Small things over the past few years, a few broken bones, lacerations that needed stitches… You frowned at the locations, the frequency.

“I see what you mean,” you said. “What’s her living situation?”

“Just her and her husband,” she said. “But he’s a guard…”

“Shit,” you sighed.

“Doc,” she looked at you. “It’s bad this time. I’ve tried to do safety checks before but…”

“I got it,” you sighed, heading to the door. You knocked once and let yourself in.

“Hi Penny,” you smiled, forcing yourself to hold it. She’d gotten the shit beat out of her. One eye was swollen shut, there were bruises around her throat. Kristen had already set a broken wrist. “How are you doing today?”

“Oh, I’ve been better,” she tried to smile but her cut cheek kept it for being too wide. You did a few quick checks, seeing if she had signs of a concussion or internal bleeding before pulling up a stool next to the exam table.

“So,” you said, looking at her. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“It’s not that bad,” she said quickly, but her eyes were welling up with tears. “Really, I just…” She started sobbing. “I don’t know what to do, he’s a guard so no one will arrest him, I can’t just leave town…”

“Hey,” you said, putting a hand gently on her knee. “I understand, OK? We’re going to figure the out. To start, we’re going to keep you overnight at least for observation. Maybe a few nights. Maybe a week. I’ll try to see what we can get worked out in the meantime, but for now, you’re going to be safe and in here, OK?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “OK.”

You gave Kristen a few instructions and went back out to the front. No one was in the waiting room, but you lowered your voice, anyway.

“Andrew,” you said, standing close to him. “I need you to find Penny’s emergency contact sheet, find out who her husband is.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said with a frown, going over toward filing. You hovered by the front desk, trying to think of a solution.

The QZ was small, too small for her to stay hidden for long. You could maybe see if she could travel as a passenger on a convoy headed to Atlanta under a different name. Elias might be able to make that happen. Then it would just be a matter of hoping that no one traveling with her knew her or her husband, especially not the guards. And that you could get her out of the city before he fucking killed her. You sighed. It seemed like things that were problems before the outbreak were just bigger problems now. Like the world had decided to go to shit in the most extreme way it could possibly find.

You still hadn’t come up with a solution the next day beyond keeping Penny in the clinic for a bit to at least keep her out of harm’s way for now. She was getting anxious, though, certain that her husband was going to track her down and cause problems.

She was right. That evening, you were in with a patient when you heard some screaming from the entry, a man’s unfamiliar voice and Andrew’s forceful baritone back.

“Excuse me,” you smiled to the woman you were treating before peeling off your gloves and leaving the exam room. There was a heat in you, building, spreading through your body. White hot, vengeful, righteous. You’d fought for years to make this place safe and someone was threatening it.

You ducked into a surgical suite on the way and grabbed a scalpel from an area that hadn’t been sterilized yet, holding the handle in your fist like a talisman. You went into the waiting area to find a man in a guard’s uniform - hulking, at least six feet tall - screaming at Andrew, who was standing behind the desk.

“I will burn this fucking place to the ground if you don’t bring me my goddamn wife!” He yelled.

“Hey!” You yelled, stalking up to him. He turned his attention to you quickly. “Get the fuck out of my clinic before I make you get the fuck out of my clinic!”

“The fuck you going to do about it?” He started toward you and you whipped the scalpel forward, slicing the palm of his hand. He hissed, yanking it back in surprise and you took the opportunity to put the blade to his throat.

“That,” you snapped. “Get the fuck out.”

He scowled at you.

“This isn’t over.”

“It is for now,” you said. “Leave.”

He held your gaze for a second, spittle on his lips, before he stepped back.

“Fucking kill you too, you little bitch,” he stalked off.

The second he was out of the door, you looked around. Everyone in the waiting room had cowered back into a corner.

“Everyone OK?” You asked. No one said otherwise. Andrew just looked at you.

“Alright,” he said, coming over and putting his arm around your shoulders. “Come on…”

He steered you into the break room before carefully pulling the scalpel from your hand.

“You good?” He asked, searching your face. You realized then that your hands were shaking. “Yeah, didn’t think so, where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” you were hyperventilating. “I just heard him, I knew it was him, I knew what he was after and I just wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone here on my watch and the only thing I could think to do was that…”

“Look, I love that you threatened to shank a FEDRA guard,” he said. “That’s the dream. But he’s going to come back and if the guards won’t do anything…”

“I know,” you were shaking. He pulled you into his chest.

“It’ll be OK,” he said, stroking your hair. “We’ll talk to Elias, there has to be something we can do…”

You just nodded into his chest. But you had a different idea, one that you couldn’t afford to bring Andrew in on.

You ducked out of work a few minutes early. Andrew had volunteered to stay the night to fend off any potential acts of aggression. It made you nervous but he could handle himself. There were weapons on site in case of an outbreak, so he was armed and ready at least. You, on the other hand, walked straight to Joel’s.

He opened the door quickly when you knocked, frowning when he saw you standing there.

“Tess ain’t here,” he said.

“Not here for Tess,” you replied. “Here to talk to you. I’m calling in a favor, think you owe me a few at this point, Miller.”

He sighed, opening the door and letting you in.

***

You refused to properly sit down, instead just leaning back against his kitchen counter as he stood opposite you, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

To say he was surprised to see you was an understatement. You tolerated him on trips outside the QZ but said as little to him as you possibly could. You’d made it very clear that you were done with him. It killed him every time.

“What do you want?” He asked, as though he would drive some kind of hard bargain. As though he wouldn’t just give you whatever you asked for.

“I need you to tell me how to kill a person,” you said, chin out, defiant. “In a ‘make them disappear’ way.”

He looked you up and down. He knew you were in your 40s now but you didn’t look it. Even after all the years in the QZ there was still something soft about you, something safe and warm and kind. You weren’t a killer.

“Why?” He asked.

“I have a patient,” you replied. “Her husband damn near killed her. Came into the clinic today threatening to burn the place down if we didn’t give her to him. I had to put a scalpel to his throat to get him to leave…”

“Tell the guard,” he shrugged, watching you closely.

“He is a guard,” you replied, shaking your head. “They won’t take down one of their own. He threatened to kill me today as he was leaving… I’ve thought about it and the only way to do this is to kill him. But I’ve only ever shot infected or euthanized people, I’ve never… I don’t know how to do what you do. I need you to tell me so I can do it.”

His jaw tensed as he strained to hold himself back. Someone had threatened to hurt you - a guard, no less - and you just wanted a guidebook on how to handle it yourself.

“No,” he said firmly.

“What do you mean no?” You snapped. “Like I said, I think you owe me a favor or two at this point, Miller, I’ve spent a decade and a half helping to keep you alive…”

“Derek know you’re asking for this?” He asked, all but spitting the man’s name out. He had no reason to, he seemed like a decent enough guy. He just got to touch you and he hated him for it.

Honestly, Joel owed Derek at least a thank you. He’d picked you up with Tess from Derek’s one morning to go on a run and Derek had invited them into his apartment while you grabbed something you’d left in his bedroom. There were photos spread out on the kitchen table. Joel caught a glimpse of one of you. You didn’t look like you even knew the photo was being taken. You were folded into a threadbare armchair, a book in your hands. Your hair was a little wild, a ribbon holding it back from your face. You legs were bare, he could just see a hint of tank top and cleavage over the top of the book. Your face was the real draw though, totally absorbed, as though there was nothing outside of you and the page in front of you in the world. He hadn’t seen you like that in years. When Derek turned his back, he pocketed the photo.

“Why would Derek know?” You asked. “He’s not involved. No one knows I’m asking for this and I’m just trusting that you won’t turn me into FEDRA for it. Tell me how to make someone disappear.”

“Can’t just tell you how to kill someone like that, Kid,” he said, crossing his arms. You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “What’s his name.”

“What?” You frowned.

“His name.” He said. “Give me the name, where I can find him. I’ll take care of it.”

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m not asking you to kill someone for me, I can handle my own shit…”

“No, you can’t,” he said. “You really think you can just kill a guard? You, who hates killin’ and hurtin’ anything thinks you’re going to just waltz into some guard’s living room and put him out?”

You glared at him.

“You’re right,” he said. “I owe ya. I owe ya a lot. Give me the name.”

“You know what, Joel,” you snapped. “If you don’t respect me, just say so, OK?”

“Never said I don’t respect you,” he frowned, confused. Ever since you’d found out he’d sent Tommy away, you automatically jumped to the worst possible conclusion about anything he said or did.

“You respect strength and skill and you clearly don’t think I have any,” you snapped. “I still know you, Joel…”

“Apparently you don’t if you think I don’t respect ya,” he snapped, closing the distance between you quickly, caging you back against the cabinets. Your breath hitched. “I know you’re smart, I know you’re capable and I know you’re not a fuckin’ killer, let me keep you from turnin’ into one and give me the goddamn name!”

His body was against yours for the first time in years. You still felt the same against him. He still wanted to touch and hold you in the same places, still wanted to knot his fingers in your hair and kiss you until your lips were swollen with it. You still smelled like lavender. You still would rip him open and destroy him if he let you.

You slowly reached into your pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with a name and address. Your eyes never left Joel’s. He took it, stepping back from you.

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” he said, putting it in his pocket.

“Joel,” you said softly.

“You should go home,” he said. “Make sure you’re in before curfew.”

You nodded once.

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you turned to leave.

Joel waited until he knew you were gone to fuck his hand while thinking about sinking into you. What would have happened if he’d kissed you. How he’d have held your face, touched your breasts, fingered you until you came around him. The sounds you made when he ate you until he was drowning in you. The way you felt when you came around his cock as he drove deep inside you, so wrapped up in you that he almost didn’t know where he ended and you began. He came harder than he had in months, the memory of the feel of your body against his so close but so far.

Joel got an early start the next day, going and waiting near the address you’d given him. He watched a man come outside and shook his head. He was huge, he’d have taken you apart. It would have been almost funny, you thinking you could kill this man without the help of a gun, if he hadn’t threatened to kill you.

He let the rage fill him then, soaking in the heat of it. Killing this man would be justice. Killing this man would be a good thing. Killing this man would protect you.

He came along side him, glancing to his name tag before he took his knife and put his arm around the man’s shoulders, pressing the knife into his side.

“What the…”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you on the street,” Joel snapped. “Walk with me.”

He steered him into an abandoned building, taking him toward the center of it.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing,” the man snapped. Joel shoved him into the room.

“You beat your wife?” He asked. The man just blinked at him in shock. “Say you’re going to burn down the clinic? Threaten to kill a doctor?”

“That fuckin’ cunt send you?” He snapped. Joel wasn’t sure if he was talking about you or his wife but he didn’t care. “Look, I don’t have any problem with you…”

“I’ve got one with you,” Joel said. “You threatened her so I’ve got a big fuckin' problem with you.”

“That little doctor bitch?” He snapped. He was getting worried now. Joel liked it. “I’m sorry about that, OK? If that’s your problem, nothing needs to happen with her, I’ll leave her be, I just want my fuckin’ wife back…”

“That’s not how it works,” Joel shook his head. “I don’t take risks with her, not with pieces of shit like you.”

The man tried to charge him but he sidestepped him and thrust the knife into his gut, twisting and pressing it deep as the man gasped in shock. He felt the blood spill onto his hand and he pushed the man to the ground. He yanked his knife free as the man gasped and blinked up at him in shock.

“Now,” Joel knelt beside him. “You’re lucky, You hadn’t hurt her yet, or this would be worse. Sounds like you deserve worse, anyway, but…” he shrugged. “Rather be quick with it.”

He slit his throat and waited until he was sure he was dead before he cleaned his knife on the man’s clothes and grabbed the blood splattered velcro name tag from the man’s uniform. He pocketed it, gave himself a once over to ensure he’d missed the worst of the blood, and left him there. With the building’s state, it would likely be weeks before they found him, if at all.

That afternoon, he went to the clinic. Andrew frowned at him.

“She here?” He asked gruffly.

“I’ll grab her,” he said, looking Joel up and down for a moment before disappearing into the back. He came out with you and you just froze in the doorway to the exam rooms.

Joel allowed himself a second to just look at you. He’d always liked how you dressed the days that you both taught and were at the clinic - a combination of bright and cheerful for your students and professional and serious for your patients. It seemed most like you. His mind lingered on the feeling of unbuttoning your shirt when you got home, feeling how you melted against him after your long day.

He wordlessly walked over to you, pulled the name tag out of his pocket and pressed it into your palm. You looked down at it for a moment, running your fingers over the stitching before looking back up at him.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He just nodded once and left before he gave into his urge to touch you.

A/N: YES THAT'S RIGHT WE HAVE ELLIE! WE'RE GETTING SO CLOSE!

Next chapter will likely be the last all pre-canon QZ based chapter (maybe one more after but I doubt what I have planned to wrap up all the OC QZ stuff will take more than one chapter) and then we will be off on the quest to bring Ellie west :D

(Also note, though it wasn't by name, Ellie heard her first Joel story today, did you catch it?)

I have a taglist, please let me know if you'd like to be added by commenting below :)

Thank you, as always, for reading and interacting! Love you all :)

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic

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bradleyr00sterbradshaw · 2 years

Text

I Wanna Dance With Somebody | Rooster x Reader

A/N: Okay, before we get started, I'd like to specify something about the timeline in this fic. Top Gun: Maverick's timeline is really fuzzy. Although the movie came out in 2022, it was filmed in 2018/2019. However, during the movie, it's mentioned that it's been "nearly thirty years" since the events of the first Top Gun. Therefore, I've made the executive decision that this fic was set in 2016/2017, making Rooster around 34 in the present timeline. Reader is 26. Hope this clears up any confusion!

Warnings: Argument, breakup

November, 2011

A grin broke out on Rooster's face as he spun you around your kitchen, swaying to Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody", your new engagement ring sparkling in the dimmed lights.

Laughing as the two of you did the pretzel, he began singing along, "Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat—" He spun you around again, "With somebody. Yeah I wanna dance with somebody!"

Rooster twirled you into a dip, one hand on the the small of your back and the other on your waist, "With somebody who loves me..."

Straightening back up, your eyes met his and you leaned in, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

For the first time since his mother passed, he was at peace. He was happy. And he was in love.

______________________________________________________________

January, 2012

You were sitting on your hand-me-down couch, your feet propped up on the coffee table, laptop on your stomach as you scrolled through countless wedding venues.

Rooster came in not long after, kicking the door shut behind him. Thinking nothing of it, you smiled, calling out to him, "Hey, honey, when you get the chance, we really got to get cracking on these venues. We only a few more months away and if you want that summer wedding like you said you did, we're running out of time."

When you didn't get a response, you craned your head, trying to get a good view of the hallway. It's then that you saw your fiancé bracing himself on the wall by the entry table, his head bowed.

Placing your laptop to the side, you got up off the couch, walking over to him, "Hey... Everything alright, Roos?"

He exhaled, shaking his head.

Your hand settled on his back, rubbing the fabric of his shirt in small circles, "Let's sit down, okay? You can tell me about it then. You need something to drink? Some water? I think we've still got some orange juice left over from breakfast if you want it—"

"I don't want fucking orange juice, Y/N." He said, his voice low.

Shrinking back, you nodded, "Well what do you want?"

"Beer."

"I think we're out... I can check the fridge. Give me one second—"

He shook his head, "Forget it, Y/N. Just forget it."

"Bradley..." You trailed off, your hand moving to his shoulder to try and turn him towards you, "Talk to me, baby."

Rooster turned towards you, jerking your hand off of him, "Maverick pulled my fucking papers from the naval academy."

Shock crossed your face, "He what?"

"He just set my career back at least four years, maybe five," He hissed, "Jackass..."

"Did he say why?"

He let out a breathy laugh, "Get this: he said that I'm not ready."

You fell silent. As much as you loved Bradley Bradshaw, there was one thing that always bothered you about him: he was a bad mix of reckless and cocky. Not quite on the level of Maverick, at least from what you heard, but a different kind. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be like his father. But in trying so hard, he wasn't. When he tried to be, at least.

From what you had heard, Goose was laid back and carefree. He was there to have a good time. Rooster had picked that up from him. That and the mustache, sunglasses, and affinity for Hawaiian shirts. But when it came to flying, they were polar opposites. Goose let Maverick take control, meanwhile Rooster waited for the right moment. Every. Damn. Time.

You had seen it yourself, sitting next to one of his old colleagues who explained to you everything he was doing. You then explained why he did it. Because of his father. Because of his need for Maverick's approval. Because, because, because.

It killed you to see him hurt then, and it killed you even more to see him hurt now.

"What?" Rooster asked, studying the look on your face, "Why are you looking at me like that? What, you don't think I'm ready either? Typical. Fucking typical..."

"Bradley," You frowned, smelling the alcohol on his breath, "How much have you had to drink?"

He scoffed, "Does it matter? My whole career is being set back and you're worried about the amount of alcohol I've had?"

"I'm worried about you." You said, growing frustrated, "I'm trying to be here for you, but I really need you to meet me half way."

"I need you to stop being down my damn throat!" He exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air.

Your lips quivered, trying to keep yourself together, "Is that really how you feel?"

"All the time!" He said, "You have no idea, no idea how hard my life has been."

"But I can try to help you through it," You bowed your head, "When I lost the internship in New York—"

"This isn't some random job in New York, Y/N!" Rooster hissed, "This is my whole future!"

You took a step back, "Rooster, that internship would've been huge for me. I was devastated. Trust me, I know how you feel. And I'm sorry. It sucks. And you're going to have to get through it. But I'll be right by your side, every step of the way."

"Maybe I don't want you by my side..." He said, refusing to meet your eyes.

"You don't mean that," You said, "It's the booze talking."

"No, no it's not," He said, "If you can't see what a big deal this is to me, then maybe you just don't know what I want in life."

Tears began falling down your face, "I thought you wanted me, Bradley."

"I thought I did, too."

______________________________________________________________

June, 2012

When Rooster had left you, mere months before your wedding day, you had been heartbroken. Devastated. You felt like your whole life had come crumbling down right before your eyes.

You thought of every possibility as to why. Why he left you. Was it really because you weren't "supportive enough"? Was it the age gap between the two of you? The two of you were a good nine, almost ten years apart. You were nineteen when you met, he was twenty seven. But that had never been a problem for him before, so why would it now? Maybe it was something deeper. But you'd never know.

So you sat on your front porch, tears streaming down your face with a bottle of champagne in your hand, watching the sunset, your heart setting with it.

Today was supposed to be your wedding day.

______________________________________________________________

2017

Walking into The High Dive, you didn't know what to expect. One of your friends from college had begged you to check it out, telling you it had the best drinks in town.

But when you walked in, you immediately regretted coming. Everywhere you turned, you saw pilots. Pilots that you knew all too well. Or, at least, you thought you did. They were just like him. Or you thought they were. The truth was, nobody was like Rooster. Nobody.

That's when you saw him. Rooster. Blending in with the his copilots in the sense that there was a familial bond between them, but standing out in so many ways. His hair was shorter, he had grown a mustache, but he wore the same sunglasses and tacky Hawaiian shirts.

You gazed at him for what felt like forever, taking him all in. Then you turned on your heel, fighting back the urge to break down into a sob.

Walking up to the bar, you slipped into one of the black leather barstools, ordering an amaretto sour.

The bartender looked you up and down, a hand on her hip, "Do I know you from somewhere...?"

You were about to respond when you heard the start of a piano. The start of "I Wanna Dance With Somebody". Your whole body stiffened and you gripped your drink tightly in your hand, slowly turning on your stool to look behind you as the song started.

"Clock strikes upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade..."

He looked up at you from under his sunglasses, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys.

"Still enough time to figure out, how to chase my blues away."

You inhaled sharply, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

"I've done alright up to now," His voice cracked, and he sniffled, "It's the light of day that shows me how."

A tear fell down your cheek, and you were quick to wipe it away, hoping no one saw it. But someone did. He did.

"And when the night falls, loneliness calls..."

That's when the whole bar started, jumping up and down and singing along. It drowned out the piano, drowned out his voice. He rose from his bench, walking over to you.

Setting your drink down on the counter, you met him halfway.

Rooster took your hands in his, giving them a light squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bar continued to sing, "I fucked up, Y/N. The biggest mistake I ever made was letting you go."

"You hurt me, Roos, more than you know."

"I'm sorry. For everything. There's a lot of things I'm still figuring out. But I'd like to think that I've been doing better." He bowed his head, momentarily taking a hand back to remove his sunglasses, "But I do know one thing: that I'm in love with you. And that hasn't changed. It won't change."

You nodded, "If we give this—us—another chance, you have to promise to talk to me."

"I promise. I'd promise you the world if I could."

"You are my world."

He pressed his forehead to yours, "And you're my sun, moon, and stars."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time. And while you eventually let go of each others hands, you kept each others hearts.

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