#I feel like I’m just stuck in limbo- waiting waiting waiting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

Iris is giving Jake head under the desk in an office when Mav walks in, almost busting them in the act but Jake plays it off and thankfully the desk is solid to the floor so Mav can’t see under it.

Even better, Iris giving Jake head at Mavericks desk after Mav asked Jake to do some administrative stuff for him while he was out at an appointment.

I.R.I.S Masterlist

P.S: I got so carried away with this one.

Warnings: Blowjob under desk. Male receiving.

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Maybe it’s during that limbo period where you’ve just come back from a lecture and don’t have anything until after lunch so you’re sauntering through the halls just looking for trouble.

“Rebounds been chatting mad shit about the fact he almost had you in that last run.” You barged into your father’s office, having spotted Jake sitting at his desk. Rebound – He’d been in so many rebound relationships that the name just stuck. As a double entendre, it is believed that his F18 must have made of rubber, since he couldn’t figure out landing…till graduation day at flight school. “You seemed a little distracted up there? What gives?”

Jake knew he was catching feelings. He had to act fast. Make sure that wasn’t a possibility. That couldn’t even be in the realm of probability, ever. Not with you. Not with Mavericks kid.

Jake wasn’t in the mood for your antics. He was stressed. He was trying to focus on the admin crap that made no sense to him and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Mav asked him of all people to do it for him. Bob seemed like a great candidate, he just looks like the kinda guy who knows how to use excel.

“Do you need something?” You just stared at Jake blankly, not having expected such a shape and monotone answer. Hell, Jake didn’t even look up from the computer to look at you. He just frowned as he rubbed his chin and leaned a little closer to the monitor because, well, was that a speck of dirt or a decimal point?

“I may have been told a time or two that I need an attitude adjustment but besides that? Nothing really, just thought I’d come hang.”

“You and I don’t hang, Iris—“ Jake took a second to peel his eyes away from the monitor in front of him to finally look your way. “You’re Mavs daughter.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” You let out a gruff as you slumped in the chair across from your dads desk. Jake looked a little too fucking good in his service tans.

“Well it’s probably time you start acting like it.” Jake just replied, again—as sharp as ever. You frowned at him, really trying to read the expression on his face. He had little frown lines running across the expanse of his forehead, worry in his eyes. Jake Seresin was stressed and for once it wasn’t about you. It was about his work. “I really need to focus, I can’t have you in here doing whatever it is that you do.”

“Lieutenant Commander, I think you need a little stress reliever.” As you rose to your feet, biting your bottom lip, Jake rolled back on the office chair, pointing a finger at you.

“Don’t you come anywhere near me.” It was all bark no bite. “I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

“So—“ You began, stalking closer and closer to your dads desk. “If I told you that I had some time to kill and that I’d be pretty willing to give you head under this nice, sturdy oak desk, you’d say no?” Jake thought about it for a moment as you leaned over the desk. He was debating if he should, he knew his moral compass had been a little off lately since he’d first spilt those beers on you, three weeks ago. You were still here for another ten and Jake had to start being the bigger person at some point.

“Damn don’t have an aneurysm thinking of an answer.” You scoffed, pushing off the table when Jake didn’t respond. “There’s Advil in the top draw, for the looming headache.”

“Iris, wait.” Jake sighed, running his hands through his hair as he held onto whatever shred of decency he had left. “We just can’t keep doing this, alright?”

“Doing what?” You played dump, you wanted Jake to say exactly what he meant. Something was eating at him, you could tell. Something had changed, something shifted in Jake but you just couldn’t figure it out.

“You know what I mean, this—“ Jake sighed as he tried to get back to his work, he didn’t have time for games or impressionable honry Mitchell’s who can’t take no for an answer to anything.

“No.” You chuckled softly, you knew what this was. It was casual sex. There was nothing to it. No emotion, no connection, just pure sex. But despite that you felt a little hurt, a little used. Jake knew who you were because you’d told him who you were. He was the one who started this. He was the one who still took you back to his and fucked you sensless knowing exactly who’d you’d be to him.

You’d always just be Pete Mitchell’s daughter. Mirimars resident Nepotism baby.

“No say what you actually mean, Hangman.” You challenged Jake as your emotions began to bubble, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him with a blank gaze. “You mean that you can’t keep doing, me.”

“You’re gonna cost me everything!” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as he watched the way your usually overly confident self slumped at his statement. “My job, my whole career Iris, everything I’ve ever worked towards, gone because you’ve got daddy issues and decided to use me as a pawn in whatever fucking therapy technique fucking your TopGun Instructors is!” Jake didn’t mean what he was saying, but if there was a chance he felt a deeper connection to you then just a quiet fuck he knew that it was possible for you to. “Think about it, you came in here, with every intention to cause trouble.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't.” You had, but Jake didn’t need to know that trouble also meant you’d brought an extra Gatorade from the vending machine because you knew that blue razz was his flavour of choice and that the vending machine guy took forever to restock it when it ran out. So you got him the last one. “If you really think that about me then why did you fuck me that night? You know, after I told you who I was?” Jake just looked at you, there was a look in your eye he’d never seen before. You were usually so confident, so effortlessly in control of everything happening around you. So much like Mav in his ability to be a shit stirring little shit that Jake forgot that you had feelings besides a labido. “Why did you let this go on so long?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say or what you wanna hear?” Jake groaned, you’d called him out and he didn’t have an answer to give. “This just isn’t normal Iris!” It wasn’t normal to catch feelings for your mentor's daughter, that's what wasn’t normal about this. You knew this had to be about more than just the risks. Risks be damned, you and Jake were having fun. There were no strings attached. You were both consenting adults, your dad and his opinions didn’t scare you. They never had.

“Yeah, well just because you’re struggling with your moral compass doesn’t mean you have to project that shit onto me.” You snapped, scoffing as you shook your head and bit back the lump in the back of your throat. “Nice knowing you asshat.”

Jake should’ve left it at that. He should’ve let you walk away then and there, he should’ve kept his mouth shut but he didn’t. He watched as you stormed off towards the door and a pain slung in his chest.

Fuck.

“I’m still your superior officer, you can’t talk to me like that.” Jake stood from the chair he’d been sitting on. He squared his shoulders and pointed directly at you. “Remember your rank when you’re addressing me, Lieutenant Mitchell.” Stunned, you paused in your tracks, what the hell had he just said to you?

“Oh so you wanna play that way huh?” You chuckled to yourself, Jake looked so stupid up on moral outrage hill. “I’m still your student, yet you fucked my ass two nights ago! Now you’re telling me that you’ve had a change of heart?” You hissed back. “Fuck you Seresin, you wanna take the moral high ground be my fucking guest but don’t piss on my parade because you don’t have the guts to admit you’re fucking obsessed with me!”

“That’s not what this is about!” It was. It was all this was about. Jake could feel the heat in his cheeks rising. Surely his face was red by now.

“Bullshit! You’re falling in love with me around you, you fucking sap.” It was a rush, you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. “God I should’ve known, but I’m not interested in marrying old men—“ That was a lie if there ever was one. “I just like to fuck them.”

“Enough!” Jake growled, he hated that he was straining against his slacks, pre cum was just oozing into the fabric of his boxer briefs. He hated that he loved this, this fire and lust and anger. It was infatuating, you were infatuating. “Shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.” Oh, oh there it was. You took the bait willingly and took one step forward toward where Hangman stood, sending steam out of his ears and nose. Red in the face. “Don’t be a brat Iris, it doesn’t look good on you.”

“Or what!” The way you asked? The way you challenged Jake? It kinda scared him. He knew you were a ticking time bomb. A hot headed inferno, so when he saw the fire in your eyes he backed up. You could still tell any of the admirals about any of this and it would be Jake's head on the chopping block.

“Okay, you know what? We got off on the wrong foot here—“

“That’s all you got Jake! two wrong feet and fucking ugly shoes to match.” Jake was speechless as you kept stalking towards him. He was bigger, stronger, had a hell of a lot more pull around here than you do if you considered the ranks you both had—but as you backed him up into the corner of your dads office? Jake Deadman Seresin nearly came in his slacks.

“You can’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror because you’re infatuated with someone you’ll never have!” Jake had had a gutful of your attitude as he bit his tongue, watching through hooded eyes as you backed him into the nearest wall. “You caught feelings and that’s supposed to be my problem? No—!” You weren’t going to let Jake treat you like someone lesser than. “I hope I ruin every other woman for you.”

“You have!” Jake admitted as he finally snapped back. Finally reached out to cup your face and pull you close into his chest. Hot and lusty lips on yours in seconds of his admission. “That’s my fucking problem here Iris! You’re off limits! Nothing good comes of this entanglement or whatever you wanna sugar coat it as.” Your hands worked to undo Jake's belt as he pulled away from your lips. “All you do is cause trouble for me.”

“And yet all you do is crave me more?” Oh how Jake loved and hated you at the same time. Because even if you wouldn’t admit it? He knew you and him drank the poison from the same vine. Trying to hide all of your sins from the light of day would be far harder than he ever thought it would be, because as he leaned in to take your lips hostage, leading you back towards the desk, Jake let you undo his belt, unzip his fly, and palm him off through his boxer briefs. “Tell me to stop and I will.” You mumbled into Jake's mouth. All he did was moan in response as you pulled the elastic of his boxer briefs back and snapped it against his lower abdomen. “Hangman—“

“Under the desk.” Jake managed to get out as his chest tightened, leading you back and down to the floor. “Just do what your told for once in your life Iris, get under the fucking desk.” You did as you were told and got under your dads desk. Giggling wildly as you did so with adrenaline pumping through your veins and nectar soaking into the panties you wore under your flight suit.

“Gonna shut me up?” You asked as Jake sat down and fished himself from his slacks. He was throbbing, it nearly hurt how hard he was. No other woman had ever affected him the way you could. The way you did. Jerking himself off for a few seconds as he rolled forward. “Fuck my mouth—“

“I was going to.” Jake growled as he cupped your chin, rolling closer so you could take him in your open and awaiting mouth. “I’m sick of the shit that’s coming out of it.”

It was on from there on in. Jake sighed in relief as you worked him over, expertly sucking his length under your fathers desk. Jake couldn’t control the way he wanted to buck his hips up to meet your lips or how he wanted to push your head further and further down on him.

“Oh fucking Christ your mouth is perfection—“ Jake moved your head up and down his length as you hollowed your cheeks, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you sucked him off from under the desk. “Ohhh—ahuuggh, fuck that’s it Iris—“ Jake had you sipping on his soul like wine, trading glances like you were both loaded. “Tell me if you taste my motive baby, fuck.”

You would have answered except Jake pushed you down, held you down until you gagged around his tip and gasped for air as you pushed off him. There was a trail of spit connecting your plump bottom lip to his tip. The sight alone made Jake want to cum them and there. He was a fucking goner.

“I think you like me out of focus.” You pointed out. All it took was a little head and Jake was putty in your hands, his guard was down and suddenly that stoic broad shouldered ass that brought up your daddy issues, was gone. Replaced by a man sick in love with you.

“I think I like you in the moment.” Jake replied as you went back to work, know exactly how to move your mouth on Jake’s length to get him where you wanted him, just on the edge but not close enough to fall. “Fuck Iris, keep doing that baby, just like that.” It was Jake's hand on the back of your head, coaxing you up and down at a rhythm he couldn’t get enough of, that had you giving some of the best head you’d ever given. You were determined to ruin Jake for any other woman. “Feels so fucking good.”

It was at that moment, that all important moment where you were just about to kick things up a notch and deep throat the ever living shit out of Jacob Seresin, that the door to your fathers office opened. You felt Jake stiffen and roll the chair further up the desk, pushing you back and further under.

No, it couldn’t be.

“Mav!” Jake acknowledged Pete’s presence. “What’s got you back so soon?” You froze, trying to get a read on the situation.

Holy shit, yes—yes it was.

“Have you seen Iris anywhere? I gotta have a chat with her.” Mav asked as he walked into his office, sitting in the chair across from Jake as he went back to working on the computer. You knew there was no possible way that your dad could see you, so what better way to rile Jake up than to keep sucking him off.

“N-no!” Jake tried to keep a level head as he felt you take him in your mouth again, spreading his legs under the desk as much as he could to give you more room.

“You right?” Pete just asked, all Jake did was nod with his lips pressed together in a line. Because how do you say: yeah, I’m good man, your daughters just sucking the ever living Christ from my cock as we speak, without having your head caved in?

“Yeah, I just hit my knee.” You couldn’t help but to smirk around Jake cock as he twitched in your mouth. He tasted of self loathing and denial. “But no, I haven’t seen Iris since this morning's training session.” Mav just nodded, he was angry, Jake could see it written clear as day in the lines on his face. “What’s up?”

“I just got back from an appointment—“ Pete scoffed. “Or a meeting really, with the Admirals because apparently six of the recruits complained to Admiral Simpson.” Pete sighed, he hated every minute of this. “They threatened that if Iris placed at the top of the class they’d call for an internal review.” Immediately as if you’d been shot in the chest you stopped what you were doing.

“You’re kidding?” Jake frowned, his voice dropped into an octave of concern you didn’t recognise. “Why would they do that?” You pulled away and just sat on your knees, listening in on the conversation you were trapped under the desk listening to.

“Wish I was, something about favouritism, nepotism.” Mav explained as he leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “If anything she’s had to work twice as hard to prove herself, because she was never gonna get a free ride from me, the kid always knew and respected that.”

“Well it’s not her fault she’s the best in the bunch.” Jake felt your hand come up to rest on his knee, he moved his hand over yours under the desk as he played it off on the surface that the only two people in the room were him and Mav.

“No, but it’s our problem because we’ve been told to pull her point.”

“That’s bullshit Mav, how’s that fair on her?” Jake argued. “Why do these guys get to cry about the fact they suck ass? Now they’re taking the easy way out and blaming their incompetence on the fact Y/n is this generation's Maverick.” You felt your heart skip a beat at the compliment.

Fuck.

“They’re jealous sir, I want names—“ Pete just shook his head in response.

“Cyclone wouldn’t give me names, but hey, I’ve gotta go chat to Bradley about this too—he’s basically her brother so it won’t look good if he keeps grading her name off at the top of his list after every class.” With that? Mav stood. “I was gonna tell her, but now I’m not so sure if I will.”

Your dad left soon after he questioned if he should tell you or not, he was defeated—but not as defeated as you when Jake rolled out and offered to help you out from under the desk. An offer you didn’t take as you crawled out and stood up with a soullum look.

“Iris—“

You just shook your head. Humming as you pressed your lips together. You hated this, being here in this stupid office with your guard down and your emotions all out of sorts.

“You’re worried about what getting involved with me will do to your career?” You just asked as you wiped the corner of your mouth clean. Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you tried your best to not let him see how much you hated yourself right now. “Least you have a chance to end things between us Lieutenant Commander, cut the cord, quit while you’re ahead and I really wouldn’t blame you for wanting to.” You had to pause, hold your breath and count to three. “Because at least you can do that, I can’t run from myself can I?”

“Iris—“ Jake tried again but you just turned around and made a beeline straight for the door, making your way out of the room before Jake Seresin saw a side to you that you never let anyone see.

“At least you have a career to worry about Hangman, mine was over before it even began.” You turned, looking at Jake over your shoulder.

He didn’t recognise you, the look on your face was something he’d never seen in you before. “You were right, we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

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mavrintarou · 7 months

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[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [5]

I know, you all have been patient with me on this series. Really want to finish WYE with an explosion lol so please continue to bear with me on that one.

Warning: none, just two humans trying to be better...

Fourth part Sixth part

Y/n waited patiently outside their units by the elevator for Toru and Mateo.

At last, their door cracked open and Toru stepped out with Mateo strapped to his chest in a baby carrier facing outward. “Oh!” Toru’s eyes widen, “how long have you been waiting for? You should have come over.”

Y/n smiled, shaking her head. “I wasn’t waiting long, I figured you guys would come out eventually.” She stepped forward and held her hands, “give me the diaper bag, I’ll carry that.”

Toru was reluctant to but gave in. “Thank you.” He turned so Mateo could see her, “say hi, Teo.”

“Hi, Mateo!” Y/n cooed, rubbing his cheek. He smiled bashfully and Y/n spotted a tiny white tooth appearing. “Is that a tooth?”

“Yep, he’s teething and drooling everywhere,” Toru answered, indicating the bib around his neck, was already damp with drool.

She had gone a few days without seeing them but they had made plans to go out to the new restaurant that opened down the street.

Y/n slipped the backpack pack and pressed the button for the elevator, “shall we head down?” Mateo answered excitedly kicking and flapping his arms.

Toru reserved a private room that was closed off from the public area. Although he played professional volleyball for another country, Toru held a large enough fan base in his home country. He was often recognized out in public and bombarded with questions and requests for autographs.

Mateo sat in the high chair patiently waiting to be fed by his dad.

Toru’s phone buzzed for the second time after he silenced the first call. He sighed, “do you mind if I take this call?”

Y/n nodded, setting her chopsticks down so she could take Mateo’s feeding spoon and his baby food. “Not at all, go for it.”

Toru gave her an apologetic expression and exited the room before answering the call.

Mateo immediately blabbered, eyeing his food in her hand. “Okay, okay,” Y/n giggled quickly feeding him. “Yummy, right?” He smiled, showing his gummy smile. “Goodness, you’re so cute, Mateo!”

Y/n couldn’t deny that he held a special spot in her heart. She has always been softhearted for babies in general but something about Mateo, he had her wrapped around his chubby tiny fingers.

She wiped his mouth and continued to feed him when Toru reentered the room, she could immediately sense the irritation in him even if he quickly tried to mask it with a smile. “Is everything okay?”

He hesitated but sighed, he took a seat again and wiped Mateo’s mouth. “It was the head coach for Japan’s volleyball team. He’s trying to recruit me to play for them now that I’m back in Japan.”

“You… don’t want to play anymore?” Y/n grabbed Mateo’s cup, giving him some water.

He remained silent for a few seconds before uttering a quiet, “no.” He inhaled sharply, looking at her before continuing, “with the piano, do you ever have moments where you question your passion? Like you’ve plateaued and don’t know where you’re going with it anymore? That’s where I’m at. I don’t know if I just don’t care for it anymore or I’ve done all that I can and I’m ready to start something new now.” Toru lets out a chuckle, “I never thought there would be a day I would say that,” he looked over at Mateo, reaching over to brush his hair, “until this little guy came along. I want to spend as much time as possible with him because I know how hectic it’ll be if I continue to play professionally.”

Y/n nodded, understanding him. “I feel the same way too.”

Toru’s eyes locked with hers, “about your career?” She nodded to his question.

“For a few months now, I’ve been stuck in limbo contemplating what I want to do with my career now. I was blessed to play alongside some of the greatest and most amazing musicians and traveled for my career,” her voice paused as if she was reminiscing on old memories. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Toru nodded, “that’s exactly what I feel too, got to play for an international team and traveled, played professionally… what more do I want or can I do now?”

“Do you feel like… you just need a break? A breather?”

“Yes,” Toru answered with a smile, understanding exactly what she meant. “To be clear, I’m not saying I’m done with volleyball, I think I just need a break like you said. A long break.”

Y/n looked over at Mateo who was blowing bubbles, she smiled lovingly at him before looking at Toru. “Well, if you’re looking for a sign to take one, I’ll be the sign. I give you permission to take a long break, Oikawa Toru.”

Toru’s eyes water as he looks down, chuckling. “Why are you always making me cry, Y/n?”

Y/n’s eyes widen, “don’t cry! I’m not making fun of you, I promise!”

He shook his head, looking up and wiping his tears away. “No, I know you’re not making fun of me, it’s just… you’ve been saying everything that I just need to hear and it’s so relieving. So, thank you. Thank you for giving me permission to take a break.”

. .

Toru came out of the men’s bathroom shortly after he entered and looked at Y/n with a face she couldn’t quite decipher.

“That was… a fast diaper change,” Y/n’s tone was filled with half sarcasm and amusement.

Toru made a face, “I’m really sorry to ask this but the men’s bathroom doesn’t have a changing table…”

“Ah,” Y/n reached for the diaper bag and took Mateo, “come on, Teo – let’s go change your poopy diaper.”

“Thank… you…” he watched the two of them march and disappear into the women’s bathroom happily.

His heart raced with a mixture of emotions. Gratitude welled up within him, an unspoken appreciation for Y/n’s boundless kindness and loving heart. Each passing day seemed to deepen his feelings for her, as he found himself falling for her even more.

Toru knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist letting the scenarios in his mind play out temporarily. Observing how wonderfully Y/n interacts with Mateo, he couldn’t help but envision the possibility of them forming a small, loving family.

He doesn’t have the heart to admit how he has been longing to complete his little family and he knows Y/n means no harm by it but he couldn’t help but just wonder… how does she feel?

Will she be willing?

Can she see a future with him and Mateo?

He knows he’s getting ahead of himself and he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t have such expectations. He should just be thankful that Y/n wants to associate herself with them.

“What?...” Toru mumbled when he felt the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. His balance wavered as he swiftly realized that an earthquake was occurring at the very moment.

Screams and shouts echoed around him as he scanned his surroundings. Cars had come to a halt, and buildings were shaking violently. The tremors beneath his feet intensified, causing windows to shatter and fall from various directions.

“Y/n!” Toru shouted, deftly avoiding falling debris and frantic people in his rush to reach the women’s bathroom. “Y/n!” he cried out, as a group of women inadvertently surged past him in their haste to exit the restroom. Amid the chaos, he was jostled and pushed back from the women’s bathroom, but he stood firm and pressed onward, still shouting, “Y/n!”

“Toru!” He heard Y/n’s scream, “Toru, we’re still inside!”

With no time to spare, he rushed into the bathroom, pushing aside any concern. He advanced further until he turned the corner, where he discovered Y/n hurriedly trying to get Mateo off the small changing table. He swiftly collected Mateo’s belongings and stuffed them into the backpack. “We have to leave quickly,” he urged.

“I think it’s safest to remain here, the walls are cemented and there’s no windows.” She pressed Mateo close to her chest, a protective hand over his head. She looked down at the changing table, “this table is large enough to cover us, we should get under it.”

Toru nodded and followed Y/n who scrambled underneath the table, securing Mateo tightly in her arms.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. It’s okay,” she whispered soothingly as he started to cry. She pulled him tighter in her embrace, murmuring soothing words to calm him.

Toru’s arms enveloped them protectively, drawing them close as the ground shook even more violently than before. Dust and other debris began falling from the ceiling. The lights in the bathroom flickered and then, with a final quiver, lost their connection.

It was the longest few minutes of their lives holding their breath and praying for the earthquake to pass.

The ground had finally grown still, no longer quaking.

“Is it over?” Y/n whispered, her breath unsteady. She looked down at Mateo who calmed down and suckled his pacifier, staring back at her with wide eyes.

A light illuminated the closed-in bathroom as Toru turned on his flashlight on his phone. He looked at Y/n and Mateo before letting out a sigh of relief. “I think so.” He held his phone up, “I don’t have any signal.”

“Cellular towers must be down too,” Y/n shifted Mateo in her arms and gazed at the baby, “are you okay?” Having no clue what he had just gone through, he spat out his pacifier before smiling brightly at Y/n’s words, his dimples appearing on his chubby cheeks. Her heart melted and leaned to kiss his cheek. Her eyes widened for a split second, realizing what she had just done in front of Toru, and blushed, thankful they were still surrounded by the darkness. “We should… probably wait until they give us the green light to leave, we might be best staying here for now.”

Toru sighed and rolled his neck. “Yeah, I agree.” He reached over and let Mateo wrap his chubby fingers around his, “you are a trooper, not even realizing you just experienced your first earthquake.”

“It’s a story we’ll need to tell him later,” Y/n remarked.

Hearing her say ‘we’ll need to tell him later’ caused Toru’s heart to swell to the point of almost bursting. Those were simple words, but they filled him with hope that maybe she would continue to be part of their lives. He smiled as he watched his son burst into laughter while Y/n made funny noises and tickled him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before uttering the words he’d been dying to say. “I love your interactions with my son.”

Y/n turned her head, eyes wide before she smiled at him, “it’s hard to not adore him, Toru. I enjoy spending time with you two but I hope you don’t think I’m trying to evade your privacy or boundaries. I do – don’t want you to think I’m trying… to be his mother…”

“Can I be completely honest with you?” Toru murmured, gently tucking her bangs behind her ear. When Y/n nodded her head, he smiled warmly. “You are the most incredible female figure Mateo has ever had, and you’ve never crossed any boundaries or invaded our privacy. In fact, I’m sure Mateo agrees with me that we both would love for you to spend more time with us.” He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. “I just want you to know… and I hope what I’m about to say won’t scare you away because I don’t know what Mateo and I would do if you no longer want anything to do with us anymore but I can’t keep it to myself any longer, but God, Y/n, you have no idea how much I wish you were his mother.”

Mateo squealed loudly as if he understood and agreed with his father.

Y/n adverted her gaze momentarily, clearing her throat. “I once heard a quote: ‘Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child,’” she began. Then, she turned her gaze back to Toru. “I won’t deny that what you just said caught me off guard, but it certainly didn’t frighten me.” Her eyes met his, silently conveying that she shared his sentiments. “To be completely honest also, I’ve been longing for a child for a few years now,” she admitted. She shifted her focus to Mateo and playfully wiggled his arms. “That’s partly why I lost my passion for the piano. I didn’t exactly know how I was going to make it happen, but…” she chuckled, feeling a rush of embarrassment. “Let’s just say I’ve been on the baby-fever bandwagon for quite some time, and meeting Mateo… it truly was a blessing.”

Toru shifted, sitting with his back against the wall and staring off into the darkness. “It goes both ways, Y/n. You are a blessing to Mateo and me.” He reaches towards Mateo, who instantly grabs a hold of one of his fingers. “I – I was wondering… are you… seeing someone?”

It took Y/n a few seconds before she answered, “no, I’m not. That man you saw the other day was Woojin. He’s also a musician, and that’s how we became acquainted. But that was the last time I’ll be seeing him, we decided to go our ways.”

A small smile appeared on Toru’s lips, his heart was going through all sorts of emotions but at this moment, it was warm hearing Y/n confirm she was not seeing anyone.

“What about you, Toru?” Y/n inquired, “are you seeing someone?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I am not seeing anyone.” His breath trembled and his heart raced as his mind screamed at him, here’s your chance. “Although… I do want to get to know someone.” He glanced at Y/n to see her reaction before continuing, “if I should be so bold as to ask, are you open to seeing someone, Y/n?”

Y/n’s breath quickened, and her heart raced as her mind grappled with how to respond to him. She couldn’t deny that over the past few weeks since she’d met Toru and Mateo, she imagined and daydreamed about what life with them could be like. She also couldn’t deny that after she heard about Lucia, she had secretly wished she could have been the one to carry and give birth to Mateo, the sweet boy in her arms. The idea of considering a man who already had a child with a previous partner had never crossed her mind before, but in this situation, with Toru and Mateo, she realized she wouldn’t mind at all.

She cast him a shy glance, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. “If I’m allowed to be as bold as you,” she replied with a hesitant smile, “and if it’s you, then yes, I’d be open to seeing you.” She is immediately hit with the idea that she might have misunderstood his question and she quickly adds rashly, “oh my goodness, I just totally assumed you were referring to… you and I… I’m so emba – “

Her sentence was abruptly interrupted as Toru gently pressed his lips against hers, hushing her words. He gave her lips two tender pecks before pulling back, his gaze fixed on her rosy lips before meeting her eyes. “I’m referring to you and me,” he whispered.

“Toru,” Y/n whispered.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me again.”

His lips curved into a boyish grin before he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers softly. His hand comes to cup her face, taking it slow…

Toru’s breath hitched with Y/n’s mouth shifted and her tongue teased at his lower lip before he smirked and met her eagerness. He did not peg Y/n as one to take the lead in a kiss but he wasn’t going to complain if she preferred it. Cool chills ran down his spine as Y/n let out a soft moan against his mouth and all he could think about was how he wanted to hear more of it.

The moment was interrupted by their phones dinging with a notification informing them of the status of the aftermath. Seconds later, the lights in the bathroom flickered on.

Y/n was the first to pull away and Toru chuckled at the annoyed and slightly disappointed expression that briefly crossed her face. She then quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks flushed with a blush.

Mateo cooed, reminding the two adults that he was still present. He suckled his fingers, drooling everywhere.

Toru playfully poked his son’s cheek, “sorry son, didn’t mean to make you the third wheel.”

Upon their return home, they found the apartment building’s management making announcements. They explained that the external structure of the building had not suffered any damage, but this assessment did not extend to the interior structure. Each unit would undergo inspection to ensure it met safety requirements.

As soon as the three stepped out of the elevator, Mateo was sound asleep in Toru’s arm.

“That was quite a day,” Y/n remarked, shifting her weight onto her heels. “Get some rest, and I’ll catch up with you…”

“On a date. I’m going to take you on a date, is that all right?” Toru finished her sentence for her.

Y/n nodded her head, a bright smile on her face. “I’d love that.”

“You go in first.” He jutted his chin towards her door, “have a good night.”

Y/n walked backward, maintaining eye contact with him until she gently bumped into the door. “Good night,” she whispered before disappearing into her unit.

She dreaded the idea of finding her place in disarray after the earthquake but to her surprise, when she reached the living room, only a few items lay scattered on the ground. Her piano was not a concern; she had it secure in place specifically for situations like earthquakes, and there was nothing near it that could have caused damage.

She tossed her purse on the couch and turned her heels to head for the kitchen when she froze and turned her heels 180 degrees.

Her hand covered her mouth as she muttered, “oh my gosh…”

A big portion of the thin wall that separated her unit from Toru had completely collapsed, and as Y/n stood there in shock, she met Toru’s mirrored expression of surprise.

. . .

E/n: Will be back to edit.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchia-98 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abcde12345 @shotenvinsoot @princess-sunshyn @anonymoussimper @junglewoos

#haikyuu oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fluff #oikawa scenarios #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru fluff #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you

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hearts4hughes · 7 months

Text

lacy | mark estapa

( mark estapa x fem!reader )

a/n: i know i should be working on my bday celly, but this song has been stuck in my head since i first heard it. olivia so perfectly captured the feeling of insecurities within girls and others. this is sooo short and it’s devastating writing mark angst, but i had to write something for this song!

warnings: mentions of being insecure, being led on, no part two!

Lacy, oh, Lacy

Skin like puff pastry

Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell?

Dear angel Lacy

Eyes white as daisies

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doin' well?

the bar was loud- so loud it hurt your head. then again, maybe it was also the result of the countless drinks you’d lost track of, each one seemingly going down easier than the last.

why had you agreed to go there? why had you agreed to torture yourself?

just a week ago mark had his arm around you. he was whispering sweet nothings into your ear, giving you the impression he wanted more than to just be best friends. yet he never acted on it, never followed through. so you waited on this confusing limbo. you didn’t know what you were waiting for- perhaps for your crush on your best friend to magically disappear or for him to finally act on all those mixed signals.

now, mere days later, he had his arm around her- treating her as he had just treated you. his arm rested comfortably around her waist. their height difference made him have to lean down to whisper in her ear, just as he had done with you. and he looked at her with those unmistakable heart eyes. you wanted to believe that she had lured him in with some siren song, or maybe cast a spell on him, but you didn’t believe in magic. that’s why lacy almost didn’t seem real. she was impossibly perfect.

her long, blonde hair was tied back with delicate pink ribbons, matching with her adorable slip dress. but when you wore pink, it washed out all of your features, leaving you feeling less then feminine. with lacy, it was different. pink accentuated her plump red lips and those piercing blue eyes of hers. she embodied femininity in every way.

why couldn’t you look like that?

Smart, sexy Lacy

I'm losin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like bullеts on skin

Dazzling starlet

Bardot reincarnate

Wеll, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

you were jolted as she gracefully moved away from mark and headed in your direction. she sent you the sweetest smile, showing off her pearly white teeth. it was the kind of smile that could uplift anyone that was lucky enough to see it.

“oh my goodness, you look like an actual goddess!” she complimented, her eyes filled with sincerity and awe. there was no devilish undertone or hidden agenda in her words, so why did it feel like bullets against your skin?

you smiled in return, yet it didn’t reach your eyes. “speaking of looking like a goddess, darling, that’s you.” you replied with sincerity, even though the gnawing feeling in your stomach hinted otherwise.

“thank you so much, cutie! i channeled my inner bardot with this look.” she said, though she didn’t need to channel anyone. she was a modern-day brigitte bardot herself. “anyways, catch you later; i’m going to get drinks for mark and me.” she beamed, planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, and strutted off to the bar.

you wanted so desperately to find a flaw, to mock her in some way, but it was impossibly- she was genuinely one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, and it left you conflicted, torn between admiration and insecurity.

you couldn’t do this. you couldn’t sit here praying on the downfall of her and mark’s relationship. it was time to accept the painful truth: you were just a pawn in his game, leading him to her- his queen. your trembling fingers found their way to the heart pendant necklace around your neck, and with a determined tug, you broke the clasp. gazing at it in your palm, you remembered how mark got it for you for your one year ‘friendiversary’. what once was such a special piece of jewelry, was now a mockery of your failed relationship.

tears welled up in your eyes as you stomped over to mark. he didn’t notice you were next to him until you shoved his shoulder. he looked at you with confusion as you opened his hand, shoving the golden pendant within it.

“what’s going on?” he asked, peering down at the necklace. “why are you giving this to me?” foolish was the only word that could describe him.

“i can’t be friends with you anymore, mark. you’re tearing me apart and i don’t even think you notice it.” you confessed, tears streaming down your face. his eyes were laced with hurt. what had he done to lose his best friend?

“y/n-”

“no, don’t say anything!” you snapped, your breath hitching in your throat. “you don’t get to say anything after what you did to our friendship. you ruined it! you’re the one who ruined it.” your words were slurred, fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

he didn’t respond or ask for clarification; you both knew exactly what had been done to ruin such a solid connection.

as the weight of your confession hung in the air, you turned away from who once was your world, leaving him behind with the heart pendant in his open palm. there was a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you- pain, anger, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

pushing through the crowd, you made your way to the exit. lacy waved you bye, clueless of what had just happened.

you stepped out of the bar into the darkness. tears clung to your lashes, but you didn’t let them fall. your phone vibrated in your pocket, but you ignored it- too nervous that you’d see mark’s contact picture staring back at you.

and you left, leaving everything you once cared about behind you; leaving that cruel chapter of your life in the darkness of the open night.

Lacy, oh, Lacy

It's like you're out to get me

You poison every little thing that I do

Lacy, oh, Lacy

I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

#hearts4hughes #nora’s writings 💐#mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa blurb #umich hockey #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl imagine

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xxacademy · 1 year

Note

Hello!

Love your work!

Can you do headcanon of Leon and the first * I love you * said with his So ? I always wondered how'd he'd say it. Or if he'd even say it first ? I'm torn lol

thank you so much anon,, it means a lot !!♥️ but truly i’m gushing over the thought of leon saying i love you for the first time. i decided to write more of a one-shot for this one because im obsessed. might make a legit head-cannon post alongside this though.

literally smiling and kicking my feet writing this agggh <3 hope you enjoy !!

she/her reader. pure fluff, only a little nsfw.

head over heals in love is the only way to describe the way you feel for his stunning blue eyes and gentle soul. leon, the man you’ve been seeing for a few months *formally* asked you to be his girlfriend. he was rather reserved at first, and opened up to you slowly. gradually letting you into the beautifully strung web of his heart. it wasn’t a question of if you loved him, but rather if you should even tell him how you felt. it was nerve racking- the man of your dreams fell into your lap and the last thing you wanted was to throw it all away to a premature confession of your love.

so, you gave it the time you felt it deserved.

all the while leon treated you like a princess. he would pick you up on his motorcycle and drive you around the city. your arms encircled tightly around his waist, getting lost in the dream-like glimmer of the nighttime skyline. he would serenade you with his thoughts, telling you the most unbelievable stories imaginable. often while snuggled up on a park bench overlooking the horizon.

leon was unbelievably romantic, he spared no expense to shower you with little compliments. “my gorgeous girl” he often said, his eyes always fixed on you.

he made love to you in a way you have never experienced before. it was overflowing with passion. he touched your body like a work of art; a work of art that solely belonged to him. between his whimpers he would let out little love swept praises. “my girl, my beautiful girl, all mine.”

but what made you fall even deeper for him were the heart-melting moments of domesticity you shared. he comes over to your house after work and you always greet him at the door with a kiss. one that usually turned into him pinning you against the wall, his hands resting low on your hips. only to break it off by saying you prepared him dinner. he will insist that you didn’t have to. but, you always assure him that it was no trouble at all. just another bespoke limb of your affection.

at the dinner table he will go on in great detail about his day. little moments like these made you feel like his wife, and my god, you wanted to be his wife.

and in every one of these moments those god forsaken word’s were begging to come out. plagued by your own insecurity, you were stuck in the limbo of two soul mate’s afraid to say to “L” word.

…

it’s about 11pm and you’re getting settled into bed. you’re wearing nothing but the t-shirt leon had “accidentally” left at your house. it smelled irresistible, his sent lingering strongly in the black cotton. you mindlessly scrolled your phone, constantly switching back to leon’s messages. impatiently waiting for the just got home, are you having good night, baby? text he normally sends you.

knock knock knock

abruptly you get up, running to the door. confused and racking your mind as to who could be knocking. you chalk it up to being a neighbor- because who the hell else would show up unannounced at nearly midnight.

you open the door; just a crack, careful not to expose your lack of dress.

“hey pretty girl.” of course it’s leon, wearing all black, dangling a helmet in his hand.

“leon! oh my god! what are you doing here? i’m sorry, i’m not really dressed” you fumble.

“is that my shirt?” he asks with a smirk.

you blush, whispering a shy “yes..”

“i mean who wouldn’t wanna come home to their girl wearing his shirt?” he embraces you, resting his head in the nook of your shoulder. he whispers “i missed you.”

“is that why you’re here?” you tease.

“well, i wanted to talk to you.”

your heart skips a beat, for whatever reason feeling a sense of dread. is he going away for work? is going to break up with me? it’s not really rational to think that way, but leon isn’t exactly predictable.

“no need to get nervous, it’s good- i think”

“what’s good?” you ask, trying not to jump to any conclusions.

“here c’mere, let’s sit”

you sit in the couch comfortably under leon’s arm. he diverts the subject and tells you about his day, like he usually does. and you tell him about yours. leon’s a sweet talker, his deep and calming voice relaxing you. and without intending, he allows you to be yourself, you feel safe.

“i’ve been thinking about you, about us.” leon says, running his hands lazily along your exposed legs.

“yeah?”

“you occupy so much of mind, and i—uh— i really dunno how to put it, you just mean so much to me.” he pauses, shyness apparent on his blushed cheeks.

“honestly… and i really mean it— i love you”

leon looks nervous, anticipating your reaction. hoping that if rejection comes it’s quick and over with.

“i love you, leon.” with no hesitation you say the words he was always hoping you’d say. leon’s smile is bright, one of true happiness. he kisses you with fervor, pulling you closely to his chest.

“you’re all mine, my love” he says into the kiss.

“delightfully so.” you reply.

your heart is filled to the brim. swept off your feet by your charming boyfriend, truly in love.

#academy headcannons ☁️#academy drabbles 🫧#this is so fluffy and cute im <333 #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fanfiction #leon x you #leon kennedy x you

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

Blow by Blow | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

“Okay, um — no, no,” Natasha winces, shaking her head at you. She grabs your knee and pushes it back down. “No legs — no kicking.”

Jake snorts at the other side of the gym, leaning his head back, then remembering he’s supposed to be spotting Javy, who’s failing out of a bench press. “Oh shit.”

He catches the bar and helps his friend lift it back onto the rack.

“But… I saw on TV—“

“Different sport, kid.” Payback chuckles from the side of the ring, leaning against the ropes. Your lips part slightly, confused. Bradley leans against the doorframe to the office, arms folded over his chest.

You nod slowly as Natasha guides you back into the correct stance. You squint at the heavy bag, readying yourself to go again.

In the month since you’ve moved in, you’ve gotten better at this — but there’s still a lot you don’t know. Still, Natasha has enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell.

Interviewing each of the staff members for the website really helped. Sitting down with each of them for a couple of hours and doing a video interview with them to post on the About section of the website, just a friendly Q&A to make people feel more comfortable coming in and meeting the team.

If it helped you warm up to the idea of training here, then it would help others too.

Bradley is the only one that you haven’t managed to pin down for an interview yet, but he has been busy — he has the most clients around here because he’s been around the longest

Maverick has been loving your ideas so far. He thinks you’re a tech genius for some basic website design and creative ideas.

This entire month has been like a dream that you’re just waiting to wake up from. Even that evening, after hours spent at a local bar — you’re on cloud nine.

Maybe a couple too many drinks, maybe it’s just because you’re so happy, but you’ve been laughing all night.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at home? — It’s on my way.” Payback offers, dangling his keys from his index finger. He’s got a fight coming up and he has cut out all alcohol, but he just has a tiny little sports car that won’t fit everyone. Bradley lives closest.

“Well, yeah — I’m not going to let her walk home on her own,” Bradley answers as he shoots a quick look over to you, grinning with Bob and Mickey as the three of you make plans for the weekend coming. “Besides, it’s not that far out of my way.”

Jake nods his head and pats Bradley’s shoulder, taking Bradley’s spot in that tiny little sports car, “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t forget you agreed to take care of my eight a.m. session.”

Bradley calls out an agreement and waves the two of them off as he walks over to you.

“You ready?” He asks gently.

“Oh — yeah. Okay, bye guys, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You stick your arms out and they hug a side of you each, then call out their goodnights to the each of you.

“What did you guys end up deciding to do this weekend?” Bradley asks, reaching past you and curling his fingers around the empty glass in your hand. He takes it and sets it onto the table beside you, then catches hold of your hand and turns you towards the door.

You comply wordlessly, letting him steer you towards the exit. He drops your hand and lets you walk ahead of him.

“Bob knows this hiking trail that has some really great views, and I’ve never been on a real hike, so we’re all going to take Tank with us.”

He hums behind you to show that he’s listening, stepping outside into the night right behind you. “Sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to come?” You offer, turning your head to look at him, your features soft and expectant. Not quite hopeful. Rooster shakes his head.

“Can’t, I’m working this weekend.” Bradley answers. It’s not a lie, he should be working this weekend, but he’s also kind of the boss and hasn’t ever taken notice of the hours that he’s supposed to be working.

You inhale softly, not bothering to argue with him about it. You kind of don’t want him there, anyway. Being all brooding and weird — it would be more fun without him there. That feels mean. It’s not that you don’t like Bradley, it’s just that he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

“You alright? — you’ve gone all quiet, all of a sudden.” Bradley nudges his hand into the back of your bicep as you walk ahead of him. You turn and look over your shoulder once more.

Maybe it’s all the fresh air, but you feel a thousand times more buzzed out here than you had in there.

“Could we walk back along the marina?” You slow down so that you’re at his side. Bradley nods his head, it’ll only add an extra ten minutes to the walk, and sometimes it’s nice down there at night time.

You walk ahead as he pushes his hands into his pockets and watches you. Bradley trained with Jett for a couple of years, he had known from the first session that Jett was an asshole — he just hadn’t realised that it went further than that. Maybe he could have done something earlier.

Your skin cools quickly with the ocean air, goosebumps rising on your skin from the sudden change in temperature.

Finally, you round the path and grow close enough to see the boats, the lights of the city and right out over the bay. You slow down to take notice of it.

“So, do you live near here?” You ask Bradley without looking back to him, gaze turned out over the water. Bradley watches you walk in front of him, his eyes on your legs as you narrowly miss each crack in the pavement. Inches from stumbling, somehow staying on your feet.

“Near Little Italy.” He answers you.

You scrunch your brows and turn quickly towards him, walking backwards without slowing. His features tighten, eyes on your heels — there’s a rock on the path, your shoe lands centimetres from it and you escape breaking your ankle.

“This is out of your way, then.” You realise.

Bradley lifts his gaze, looking at you with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. He nods slowly. “Yeah. But it’s alright.”

“I didn’t say thank you.” You remind him, lips quirking up into a playful smile. His mouth toys at a smirk. He likes it when you forget yourself around him, leave all of that worrying and quietness behind. He can see why the others like you so much when you’re like this.

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nods again. He smirks back at you, “That’s alright too.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. “If I keep training with Nat, pretty soon you’ll be asking me to walk you home.”

He chuckles lowly. “Is that right?”

You nod your head and slow down, letting him catch up to you. He slows, standing in front of you, brows scrunching. He opens his mouth to question your motives, then stops as you turn your head and look out over the water.

Salty sea air, fuzzy bright lights around the harbour, warm skin as you lean forwards into him. It’s a half-intentional move, you want to be closer but you’re also just tipsy and not that steady on your feet.

Bradley’s hands find your waist, unfazed as you tip your chin to look at him. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but you aren’t in the slightest bit bashful about staring at him.

He lets you, glancing down at the patterned florals on your dress as his fingers lay still over the material. As his eyes meet yours again, they’re especially dark in this light, almost black. Nothing like the golden hue from this evening’s sunset.

He inhales slowly. Pomegranate, vanilla violet, mahogany wood and amber. His fingers smooth softly over your waist, eyes not faltering from yours.

You press closer into him, palm splayed out open on his chest, warm muscle under your fingertips. He stares at you, for a second questioning whether or not you’re about to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He leans into your touch, letting your lips press softly into his.

His breath stops in his airways. You mouth on his, just for a moment. As you go to pull back, his lips chase yours. You hum softly into him, meeting him with another gentle kiss. His bottom lip slotted between yours as his fingers curl into the fabric of your dress.

Pulling back slowly, you look up at him through your lashes and take one step back. Bradley loosens his hold on you, then drops his arms back to his sides.

You turn away from him and continue ahead.

“What was that for?” Bradley’s brows scrunch. You take a deep breath and sigh contentedly as you continue along the path, walking ahead of him once again.

“I just thought it would be a good spot for a first kiss.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands cold as you trail along the path at the side of the marina. Bradley walks just a pace behind you, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.

Just when he thinks he’s got you figured out, you’re off ahead of him again. He shakes his head softly. A good spot for a first kiss.

He squints at the back of your head — that implies that there will be more kisses to come, is he meant to kiss you again?

Your heels clack across the parking lot, around the side of the building. As you near the base of the metal steps up to your apartment, you turn back around to say goodnight.

His hands press into your hips, curling into the fabric of your dress as he walks you back — your breath hitches in your throat — a soft sound is knocked from you as your back hits into the red brick of Bradshaw’s exterior.

Rooster takes a second, looking you over, searching your features for a sign of doubt before he leans forwards and presses his weight into you. You swallow softly.

He lifts one hand, curling it around your jaw, turning your chin upwards and pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, tender like yours had been. Then, he presses himself harder into you, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you harder into him.

A surprised hum slips out against Bradley’s mouth, but as he urges his tongue past your lips, the sound is followed by a delightfully contented moan.

Your hands slide up his chest, coming to rest against his ribs, almost like you’re going to push him off. You’ve got no intentions of stopping this just yet. Bradley pushes himself forwards, needing to be closer.

Bradley uses his height against you, crowding you against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into yours and slotting his thick, denim-clad thigh between your legs. Your dress bunches up out of his way, not hindering his access in the slightest.

He squeezes your hip and slides his arm around your back, grinding himself forwards into you. You’re supposed to be shy, always so quiet. Now, you rock yourself onto his thigh, fingers curling into his t-shirt.

Lifting your leg to graze it against his thigh, your heel knocks gently into the bottom step. He presses you harder into the wall, caressing his tongue into yours. The ding of your heel against the metal step is soft enough to have not disturbed you. The loud bark that comes from upstairs following that gentle ding, though — that makes you flinch.

You pull apart, lips parted. Staring up at him, breathing heavily. Your skin burns as you realise who you’re with and what just happened — and where you are.

“Um… I should,” You breathe out, blinking at him, “I should go and let him out.”

Bradley nods his head. It’s a couple of seconds before his brain catches up and he finally lets you go, stepping back and freeing you from being trapped against the wall.

“Okay.” He nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Natasha. Whatever happened between you and Jett. It was probably a bad idea to—

“Do you want to come up?”

He stares at you for a second, lips quirking up at the sides. He exhales softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Sure.”

You aren’t even sure why you asked him, it seems like a bad idea before you’ve even said it — it seems like an even worse idea when he’s headed up the steps behind you.

“You have to stay here and let Tank sniff you or he’s going to freak out.”

Rooster nods his head. It can’t be that bad, he has learnt his lesson from last time. He waits outside whilst you go in and calm Tank down, clipping him into his leash to let him out.

Once Tank has sniffed him, you allow Rooster to wait inside while you get Tank settled. He’s waiting by the counter with his arms folded over his chest by the time you’re done. It doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe the moment has passed. You swallow softly, shifting uncomfortably as Tank settles down into his spot on the couch. Glancing across, you open your mouth to comment on how Tank is finally warming up to him. Tank growls lowly, a warning for Bradley to stay where he is.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and hums, “Maybe I should go.”

“But…” You start out softly.

He steps towards you and Tank growls again. You swallow softly and shoot a look to your dog. Bradley takes one more step towards you, and Tank is silent. The second that Bradley reaches out for you, he growls again.

This has got to be some kind of divine intervention from Natasha. He shouldn’t be here, doing this.

“Alright, Bambi — I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. You open your mouth to protest. He pats your shoulder platonically and heads for the door. You close it again quickly.

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. This really hot guy, who you have to see every day, who just rejected you. You close your eyes for a second and sigh. You let him leave without a word.

…

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #blow by blow #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw x reader

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avastrasposts · 10 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 18

Finally some good news for our sweet Frankie and his girl, stuck in this nightmare The Last of Us universe that I so cruelly created for them!

Happy Frankie Friday!

Chapter 19

Series Master List

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings have their own post.

Life in the QZ is strange. It’s like living in limbo, it feels like you’re waiting for something but you don’t know what. A return to normal life? Or for this to feel normal? But at the same time there’s an ever present knot of fear in the pit of your belly, that the infection will spread inside the walls, or that the infected will get inside. Sometimes you forget about the knot but then something happens, a loud noise, someone shouting, a gun firing in the distance, and the fear returns. Having Frankie close helps, you always feel safe with him next to you. But you both work, mandatory for all inhabitants in the QZ if you want to eat. So most of the time he’s not by your side and you bite back the fear and try to get on it with.

The first week you try to figure out your role in this new setting, how to talk to people about everyday things while you, and everyone around you, has gone through a type of trauma you couldn’t have even imagined only a few months ago. Your new co-workers all seem to handle the situation differently, some say nothing unless they have to, others never stop talking about what life was like before the outbreak. The worst ones complain about everything, the food, the work, the accommodation, until your supervisor tells them to shut the fuck up and docks their rations cards for the day. You didn’t even know that was a thing so you keep your head down and do your job. You’ve thankfully been put on kitchen duty, your skill as a cook the one thing that was deemed useful in the QZ. You spend your days inventing new ways of combining beans and rice, the two dry goods staples that there seems to be no shortage of, into new dishes for the FEDRA soldiers, including Frankie.

Frankie has patrols and guard duty most days. He doesn’t tell you much about what he does, saying it’s all routine. Until one evening when he comes back late and there’s blood on his uniform and a bright cut on his cheek, his hands shaking as he unbuttons the shirt. You’re standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching him struggle with it, so you gently push his hands away and slip the buttons from their holes, your fingers staining red with blood.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, looking up at him as he looks down at your hands.

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to hear it, cariño,” he says but you know that’s not how it works anymore.

“You need to talk to me, Frankie, you can’t keep all the bad stuff inside just to protect me.” You push the shirt off his shoulders and drop it in the sink, filling it up with cold water, letting the t-shirt go the same way as he pulls it over his head.

“I see some pretty grim stuff out there, I don’t want you to know how bad it gets,” he sighs as you gently push him down on the toilet seat, taking out the first aid kit.

“You may want to protect me, but the people in the kitchen don’t care, they talk about all the stuff they’ve seen or what they’ve heard about from other soldiers,” you say, “I hear about the grim stuff every day.”

Frankie seems to scan your face for a minute while you clean out the cut on his cheek, when you’re done he gently takes your hand and presses his lips to your palm.

“I had to learn how to push the grim shit to the back of my mind when I was in the military,” he says, still holding on to your hand. “I made myself indifferent to the pain and suffering I saw others go through, just so that I could get on with the mission. Indifferent to the pain and suffering I inflicted. I don’t want you to have to do the same, cariño.”

“If I ask you to tell me about the stuff you go through, I’m doing it to help you, I’m not going to be indifferent to that, Frankie,” You slip your fingers between his and make him stand up, unbuttoning his cargo pants and pushing them down. They’ve got dark mud stains along one side and you pick them up and dump them in the laundry basket. “I want to know what you go through, because I love you and I want to help you, so you don’t have to carry it all on your own. That’s kinda part of the whole ‘wife’ thing you asked me to be.”

You see his mouth quirk up in a small smile as you poke his chest, “Get in the shower, Morales, and tell me about your day.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Atta boy.”

The second week of your time in the QZ sees your routine start to crystalize; get up, quick shower, breakfast with Frankie if your schedules match up, otherwise you head over to the big kitchen you work in and have breakfast there. You always stop by the service center first and scan the notice board that contains lists of people in this QZ and any updated lists of inhabitants of other QZ’s. So far none of your friend’s names have appeared on any lists. Only Benny and Hannah so far and Frankie hasn’t been able to get through to him yet, he only had a short message from Ben saying Hannaha and him were ok.

Once you’re done with breakfast you spend the rest of the day preparing and planning meals for the soldiers. The kitchen is in an old high school building, the large school kitchen ideal for preparing meals for big groups. The cafeteria now serves as a mess hall for soldiers rather than high schoolers and it’s bizarre seeing the high school banners and colors hanging on the walls over rows of men and women in army fatigues. You usually have the early shift and then you’re done by mid-afternoon, free to do what you want within the confines of the QZ. When Frankie’s shift ends around the same time he’ll meet you in the high school gym. He’s started training you, as he promised in his note for you, teaching you basic fight techniques and how to get away if someone grabs you. It’s exhausting, Frankie is not going easy on you, making you drip with sweat as he encourages you to punch his flat palms harder. Trying to break free of his grip is even harder, his weight and length makes it easy for him to just pin you down. But he makes you practice a few basic moves over and over until you are able to throw him off balance and break free most of the time. At the end of your second week in the QZ your body is aching, your knuckles are raw, but the bruise on Frankie’s jaw from is proof that you’d managed to learn something useful at least.

On Monday afternoon of your third week you leave the kitchen and head for home. Frankie’s got a late shift and won’t be home until dinner time. You drop off an application for some clothes that you need at the donation center and take a new route home. You weren’t familiar with the city before the outbreak and Frankie had tasked you with learning your way around all the streets. He’d said it was a safety precaution in case something, anything, happened and you needed to move swiftly through the city. You hoped you’d never need the skill but you still took different routes home every day, wandering aimlessly, mapping the streets in your head.

Today you come to a small square where some people have set up makeshift stalls, really just blankets on the ground, to sell anything they didn’t need. People would barter or trade for ration cards, the inofficial currency of the QZ. After a few miserable rainy days, the weather was nice again and it seemed to have brought out more people than usual, making you have to weave and dodge around the crowd as you make your way across the marketplace. You don’t notice the dark haired man crouching down by one of the blankets, talking to the owner selling an assortment of shoes. But he seems to sense you, maybe he catches a glimpse of your hair from the corner of his eyes, and he stands up, staring at your back as you weave past the last of the people.

You hear your name called, a tentative tone to it, questioning if it’s really you and you turn, looking back at the crowd of people. At first you don’t see him, but then he steps forward, looking like he doesn’t trust his eyes.

“Pope!” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you take a step towards him and it makes him spring into action. In a few quick steps he’s on you, his arms thrown around you, hugging you tight as you wind your arms around his neck, holding onto him as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Pope, you’re alive!” you sob, your heart feels like it’s about to explode with relief and happiness, “You’re actually alive!”

“I am, and so are you, hermana, I can’t believe it,” Pope’s laughing into your ear as he hugs you tighter, “I can’t fucking believe it!”

He pulls back, his arms still tight around your waist and looks down at your tear stained face. “Frankie?” he asks, his smile giving way to a pensive look and you beam at him through your tears, nodding.

“He’s alive, he’s here too!”

Pope blows out a loud sigh of relief and hugs you tight again, “Thank fucking god, I would’ve killed him otherwise.”

“I’ve got so many questions,” you say, still buried against his shoulder, and he pulls back again, “what happened after you left the cabin?”

Pope sighs, loosening his grip on you but his hands still holding on to your shoulders, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, so much shit went wrong.” He suddenly grips you harder, his eyes wide with fear, “Lucía? Is she with you, please, fuck, please tell me she’s with you!”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you don’t know how to get the words past your lips, but he sees your face and understands, without words he understands exactly. He drops his hands and steps past you, walking away from the market, and from behind you see him raise a fist to his mouth. You follow him, further away from the crowd, and when he stops you stand in front of him. He drops his fist, his eyes wide, staring towards the sky and you can see tears collecting in his thick lashes. When he drops his gaze down to his boots tears drip down and you reach out and hug him, folding your arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head. He doesn’t sob the way Frankie does, he trembles under you, shaking, but no sounds come from him, just his ragged breath.

“How?” he asks eventually, lifting his head from where he’d dropped it on your shoulder.

“We got to her house Monday afternoon, they’d been evacuated by soldiers, taken to Franklin. So we followed but…” you hesitate, the memory of the pile of dead bodies on the side of the road floats up to the forefront of your mind. Lucía’s mom with bullet holes, Lucía’s dress, Frankie’s voice when he thought she was alive, and the inhuman scream from her as she tried to attack him. The gunshot.

“It was a nightmare, Santi,” you whisper. “They’d killed all the evacuees, they were all on the side of the road, shot.”

“I heard rumors about them executing people who weren’t infected, but even children…”

“They were infected, or at least some of them were,” you interrupt him. “Lucía was infected, she…” you draw a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the memory. “She was infected when we got there, we thought she was alive but then…Santi…” you look at him, dreading telling him the worst part of Frankie’s trauma. “She…Frankie had to…” you can’t bring yourself to say it, but he understands, his dark eyes reflecting your pain.

He wraps his arms around you again and together you stand still, holding each other up as the images from that day swirl in your head again, and Pope begins to understand what kind of state Frankie will be in when he finally sees his best friend again.

Pope puts his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk to your apartment, not talking much, he tells you where he’s living and skirts your question about what he’s working with. It raises a twinge of suspicion in you but you drop it. A lot of stories will need to be told to cover all the time that’s passed since you last saw Pope in your old apartment back home, and you’d rather have Frankie with you for that. He’s not home yet when you unlock the apartment door, he’s not due for another half an hour, so you point Pope to the couch and start dinner.

“I have news about Benny and Hannah,” you say as you pull out a pot to boil rice. “They’re in the Arlington QZ, Frankie had a message from him a couple of days ago.”

“Oh shit, really?” Pope says, sitting up straight on the couch, “are they ok?”

“We don’t know anything except that they’re there and the soldier who told me hadn’t heard anything about Benny having a brother so we think Will isn’t with him.”

“A soldier from the New York QZ told me recently about a guy who sounded very much like Will, but I haven’t been able to verify it. I’ve been asking around every chance I get.”

“How would Will end up in New York though? That’s hours away even if you could drive the whole way.” You look over at Pope who just shakes his head, and shrugs.

“I have no idea why he would be there, but that’s the only lead I have.”

A key in the front door draws your attention and Pope stands up, he’s directly in line of sight of the door and he’s grinning when the door swings open. Frankie’s got his eyes on a note in his hand as he walks through the door.

“Cariño, they’re turning off the water tomor-” He stops dead in his tracks as he spots Pope.

“Cada día eres más feo,” Pope grins at Frankie’s stunned face before taking two steps and grabbing hold of his jacket, pulling him in for a bear hug. Frankie stumbles into him, hugging him back, still dazed.

“Pope..how?” He pulls back from the hug staring at his friend, his face splitting into a grin as he claps Pope’s shoulders, “Where the fuck did you come from, pendejo?!”

“I ran into your girl on the street, she told me you guys just got here and invited me over.” Pope’s grin is as wide as Frankie’s and he’s grabbed hold of the other man’s face, looking at him like he can’t believe he’s real.

“Fuck, you make it sound like you just dropped by for a fucking house warming,” Frankie says, pulling him in for another hug, “It’s fucking good to see you, hermano.” He lets go of Pope and, still grinning, kicks off his boots as Pope walks back to the living room. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter with a smile, looking at the two men reunite. Frankie comes over to you for a kiss before turning back to Pope.

“Where have you been, how did you end up here?” he asks, sinking down on the couch and Pope joins him, grabbing hold of Frankie’s shoulder. You grab three glasses and a bottle of whiskey Frankie had found while on patrol, you’d been meaning to use it to trade with but this was better use.

“Frankie,” Pope says, his voice suddenly serious as he looks at the other man, “I heard…about Lucía.”

Frankie gives a short nod and drops his eyes, looking at his hands for a second before he grabs one of the glasses, you can see his hands start to tremble.

“I can’t talk about it,” he says, before downing the whiskey, grasping hard at the empty glass as he looks up at you, seeking your support.

“I get it, man, I’m…” Pope drifts off, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fuck.” He draws a deep breath and accepts the glass of whiskey from you, you refill Frankie’s and then your own.

“So you guys go to the cabin?” Pope asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah, we got there early Sunday evening, we saw your note and left for Lucía’s place early Monday morning.” you say, sitting down next to Frankie on the couch. “After…” you glance over at Frankie who’s dropped his gaze back to his hands, “after we went back to the cabin. And we stayed there until a few weeks ago, hoping any of you guys would turn up but no one did. We survived on Denny’s supplies but when they ran out we had to head out and find more. Things went bad and we got attacked by looters, they took the supplies we had left and held us prisoner at their farm.” You shudder at the memory, still too fresh in your mind. “Frankie got us out, killed them, but our supplies were lost so we had no choice but to come here.”

“I tried getting back to the cabin but I was injured,” Pope says, pulling up his shirt and showing a fresh scar on his right side. “I was on the bike, just as I was getting into Lucía’s town some fucking hillbilly took a shot at me. I crashed the bike, managed to kill the guy when he came after me, but then I lost consciousness. Next thing I know I woke up with a rifle against my chest, nearly got shot again.” Pope takes a sip of his whiskey, shaking his head at the memory. “It was a military convoy going through town collecting evacuees, probably the same one that picked up Lucía. They were killing anyone infected or injured but I told them I was Special Ops and they patched me up.” He looks over at Frankie’s who’s lifted his eyes and is looking at Pope as he tells his story.

“Frankie, if I’d known…they told me they were taking the whole town to the QZ, so I went with them…I…”

“It would’ve been too late,” Frankie shakes his head, “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know how she got infected and it would’ve been too late even if you’d gotten there before the soldiers.”

You look over at Frankie, he’d never said anything about how she got infected before and as he sees your questioning look he takes your hand.

“It was the fucking pancakes, the box mix. FEDRA has information about the infection starting in the food supply, in cereal products like pancake mix. Her mom always used the fucking box mix even though I told her it was shit.” His shoulders sag and he takes another long sip of the whiskey.

“Fuck…” you breath, trying to process the information.

“I’d heard rumors about that too,” Pope says, “that’s what people are saying but FEDRA has never confirmed it.”

“Why do you think they serve only beans and rice to the soldiers?” Frankie says, looking over at Pope, “I’ve got fucking beans and rice coming out of my ears.”

“What happened after you got to the QZ, Pope?” you ask.

“It wasn’t set up like it is now, they had a temporary set up, blocked off streets with barricades while they set up a fence.” Pope shoves his hand through his thick hair, his eyes suddenly very tired, “I don’t remember much, I got septicemia, I was out of it for the better part of a month, they didn't have enough antibiotics, most of the supplies got destroyed in the outbreak. The major hospital here caught fire and burnt almost clean to the ground.” He leans back against the couch and sighs, “It’s not been good in here, by the time I was back on my feet the wall had gone up, FEDRA had taken control and they control who leaves the QZ, and who comes in. You’re not allowed to leave unless you’re being transferred to another QZ.” He looks over at Frankie, still in his uniform, “And you’re working for them, Fish?”

“Yeah, it was the only way we could get in,” Frankie says, “And it comes with benefits, but I’m starting to see some sides of FEDRA I don’t like.”

You nod next to Frankie, you’d heard the stories too by now. The staff in the kitchen would complain loudly about the food, the work they had to do, the accommodation, but never about FEDRA so that the supervisors could hear. But at breaks, and in whispered conversations in the dry good storage, you were told about the injustices in the system FEDRA had put in place. From small things like docking rations when you turned up late to work, to things that made your skin crawl, FEDRA soldiers abusing their power by demanding services from women in the QZ, especially those who didn’t have family to protect them. One of the women in the kitchen had looked at you with envy, “You'll be protected, your guy´s one of the officers, just make sure you know where he gets any extras he comes home with.” You’d told Frankie about the conversation and his eyebrows had furrowed, a dark look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve stayed away from them,” Pope says, “I gave them a fake name when they put me in the hospital.” You raise your eyebrows in a questioning look and he chuckles, “Some habits die hard, I try to stay under cover when I can.”

“So that’s why I haven’t seen your name on any of the lists of residents!” you exclaim, reaching over and slapping his arm, “We’ve been looking every day for you, pendejo!”

“You teaching her the bad words now, hermano?” Pope smiles and bats your hand away. “She definitely picked that one up from you, I’m sure,” Frankie retorts with a grin and you can’t help but feel happiness bubble up inside you as you see his smile, having Pope back was a god send, especially for Frankie.

“I’m gonna plate dinner, you guys wanna keep up with the whiskey or switch to water?”

“Water,” Frankie immediately says, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”

Dinner stretches on late into the night, despite Frankie needing to get up early the next day. You talk about your friends, about memories from before the outbreak, all three feeling the need for a break from the grim reality you now live in. Halfway through dinner Pope notices the ring on your left hand ring finger and grins big. “Congratulations,” he smiles and points to your hand and you grin as you look down at it.

“Thanks, Frankie decided to be a romantic despite the world ending.”

“Good job, Fish, told you she’d say ‘yes’.”

“You knew?” you ask with a surprised look on your face.

“Of course! I helped him pick the ring. Although, the one I suggested had much bigger diamonds, just so you know.”

Frankie gives him a friendly slap on the arm, “Shut up, you know why I picked this one and not your fake looking iceberg.”

“Why did you pick this one? I meant to ask you but I forgot with everything that happened.” You hold up your hand so that you can look at the thin gold band, three small diamonds in a row.

“Three diamonds, one for you, one for me, one for Lucía,” Frankie says, his voice low. “And room for more diamonds if we have kids together.”

“Frankie…” you whisper, taking his hand and pulling it to your heart. He gives you a small smile and Pope slaps his back.

“Go on, Fish, kiss her, I won’t look.”

That makes Frankie chuckle and he pulls you onto this lap, making the old chair creak under your combined weight as he holds you close for a long kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair until Pope clears his throat and pours more whiskey, calling for a toast.

In the end Frankie tells Pope to crash on the couch rather than walk home, the curfew is about to go into effect anyway. Frankie gives him the spare blanket as he pulls his sweater off, you disappear into the bathroom for a quick shower.

“I’m really happy she found you, man,” Frankie says, putting his hand on Pope’s shoulder, “It’s a fucking weight off my chest seeing you in one piece.”

Pope grabs Frankie and pulls him in for a hug, grabbing hold of the back of his neck to hold him tight. “Same, man, it’s good to see you. And I went through fucking hell leaving her at your apartment, Fish, but she wouldn’t leave you behind. And the relief when I saw her today, you have no idea. And then you too.”

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbles, his arms tight around Pope, “she’s been my rock, she never gives up on me. Even when I’m about to give up on myself.”

Pope pulls back, looking at his friend’s dark eyes, “Shit got dark, I almost walked away, after Lucía…” Frankie shakes his head, dropping his eyes from Pope’s steady gaze. “I knew I had to keep her safe, but then, when I got her somewhere safe, I was gonna leave, let her get on with her life without my broken ass. But she never gave up on me.”

“If you’d walked out on her, I would’ve tracked you down and slapped your sorry ass,” Pope’s voice is gentle despite his words as he pulls Frankie’s head against his so that their foreheads are touching. “I know the shit you’ve already gone through, Frankie, before all this, and I can see the shit you’re dealing with now. But you’ve got her, and you’ve got me, and I’m not fucking giving up on you this time either.”

Frankie gives a small nod, and Pope lets go of his neck.

“Better get some sleep, hermano, early start,” he says, picking up the blanket and shaking it out over the couch.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning, Pope,” Frankie says, giving the man’s shoulder a final squeeze before he heads into the bedroom. You join him a few minutes later after saying good night to Pope too. Curling up next to Frankie, his arms wrapping around you, you grab his cheeks between your palms, pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

“I’m never giving up on you either, Frankie.”

Early next morning Frankie drags himself out of bed and you follow him, getting breakfast ready for the three of you as he’s in the shower. Santi is sitting bleary eyed on the couch, rubbing the crust out of his eyes.

“How’d you sleep? Not sure how comfortable that couch is,” you say to him as you get the coffee going. Thank god for endless coffee shops, at least there’s plenty of coffee to go around for now.

“Between the whiskey, good food and finally knowing you guys are safe, I slept like a baby,” he yawns. “I was thinking though, we should try to get a message to Benny, see how things are in Arlington. Maybe it’s worth transferring there, team up with Benny and we could all go back to our old apartments, if they’re inside the QZ.”

“From what I hear, it’s not too hard to get a transfer, the difficult part is actually getting to the QZ,” you say, pouring milk into Santi’s coffee and handing it to him as he comes into the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t be using your rations on me, hermana, I’ll pay you back,” he says but accepts the coffee gratefully. You pour another mug for yourself and Frankie before you pull out the powdered eggs and tinned ham .

“Don’t be silly, Pope, you know it doesn’t work like that, we’re family, now more than ever.”

“I’m grateful anyway, you know that.” He hooks an arm around your shoulder, giving you a squeeze, before he sits down at the small table. Frankie ambles into the kitchen, pushing his fingers through his damp hair and grabs his coffee too before pulling out a frying pan to cook the ham while you deal with the “eggs”. Before long you’re all sitting down for breakfast.

“Pope thinks we should try to talk to Benny and see how things are in Arlington and maybe get a transfer.” You say to Frankie and he nods.

“I was thinking the same thing, we have a good chance of getting a transfer there as it’s our hometown. The trick is actually getting there in one piece, I’m not risking your life again, cariño,” Frankie puts his hand on your leg, but Pope shakes his head.

“I heard FEDRA does convoys with supplies between cities, you’re military, you’d get a lift with that, both you and her, no problem.”

“And you? How’d you get transport?” You ask, giving Pope a worried look, “you’re not even here under your real name.”

“I’ve made a few connections, a couple of people owe me big favors,” he grins, “I’m sure I can get a seat on a convoy.”

“Always making deals, always have a way, you don’t change, Pope,” Frankie says, looking at his friend who raises his coffee mug in mock salute.

“You know it, Frankie!”

“When do you think you can arrange for a radio call with Benny?” you ask Frankie. He’s the one who has the best chance at getting a radio call approved, with his rank in FEDRA.

“In a couple of days probably, I’ll put in the request today. I’ll try to schedule it for an afternoon that you’re not working, all three of us should be there.” Frankie looks over at Pope, “What are you doing for work? You’re not in FEDRA, but you’ve got to eat, right?”

Pope waves his hand in a vague gesture, “A bit of this and that, I do those daily jobs they’re always looking for people to do.”

“The stuff no one else wants to do?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, “I hear they’re really nasty jobs, burning bodies, sewage details, that kinda stuff.”

“Better me than some poor civvie,” Pope says with a shrug, “I’ve seen much worse, I can handle it.”

“Santi…” you say, shaking your head, “you could do a lot better than that, FEDRA will take you any day, you could patrol with Frankie.”

“And have Fish give me orders?” Pope chuckles, giving a mock salute at Frankie, who grins. “No, no offense, Fish, but I don’t think FEDRA is the way to go for me. There's a bit more to be done on the private side.” He drains his mug and pushes back from the table, getting to his feet, “Besides, I’m staying with a woman who’s good enough to share her rations when I bring home useful stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘bring home useful stuff’?” Frankie asks, looking up at Pope who’s got a sly grin.

“You know, stuff ration cards don’t cover, or stuff that’s hard to find. You know me, I always had a nose for finding useful things.”

“Pope, man, are you going outside the wall?” Frankie says, standing up and looking at his friend with knotted eyebrows.

“Never, too risky,” Pope says immediately and you both know he’s lying through his teeth with how fast his reply is. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, gonna go see if I can pick up a job today. Let me know when the radio call with Benny comes through, ok?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come find you as soon as I know,” Frankie says and Pope pulls him in for a hug. “Mantente a salvo, hermano.”

“Tú también.” Frankie claps Pope’s back before the younger man heads out the door.

“He’s definitely lying about not going outside of the wall,” you say to Frankie after Pope has left.

“Yeah, he’s a world class liar but not good enough for his friends,” Frankie shakes his head. “FEDRA puts people who got outside the wall in lock up, repeat offenders are locked up for good, transferred to a prison near San Antonio. I hope he’s fucking careful, both for his sake and for ours.”

“I just hope he doesn’t get himself infected,” you say, “I hate that I have to worry about him too now, not just you.”

Frankie takes your hand, taking the dirty dishes from you and putting them on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “Pope’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and he doesn’t need you worrying about him.” He leans down and puts his forehead against yours, looking at you so that all you can see are his warm, brown eyes. “Don’t worry, cariño lindo.”

“I can’t help it, I know what you face some days, and it scares me.”

“I’m better trained than almost everyone in FEDRA, and I’m extra careful, and do you know why?”

You shake your head gently, Frankie’s hands coming up to cup your cheeks, running his thumbs over the soft skin.

“Because I have you to come home too. Every decision I make when I’m out on patrol is based on you, coming home to you, that’s my priority, everything else comes second.” Frankie brushes his lips over yours, “Hermosa….” his warm breath ghosting over your skin, “Every morning I leave your warm body in our bed, and every second of every day it’s the one thing that keeps me going, knowing that I get to come home and crawl into bed next to you.” He presses his plush lips against yours and you feel yourself melt into him as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble into his mouth and he tilts his head, slipping his tongue in between your lips.

He is late that morning but only five minutes and when his C.O. asks why he says he was stopped by civilians asking for directions. And it turns out it’s lucky he’s late because everyone else has already gone down to check out their guns from weapons storage when the radio call comes in from Arlington QZ and he gets sent up to answer it.

“Franklin QZ, Captain Morales here. Go ahead Arlington, over.”

“Fuck me! Catfish! Is that you?!” Benny’s shocked voice comes over the radio, forgetting all radio commands.

“Benny!” Frankie yells down the microphone. “Yeah, it’s me! So good to hear your voice, man! How are you?!”

“I’m good, Fish! I couldn’t believe it when I heard you both made it to Franklin! I’ve been worried fucking sick about you and the rest of the guys!”

“I’ve got even better news, pal,” Frankie laughs, “Pope’s here too! Ran into him out of the blue and he’s been here the whole time, got here a few days after the outbreak.”

“No fucking way! That’s awesome” Benny laughs down the radio channel but Frankie swallows, he knows he needs to ask about Will and he braces himself for bad news.

“Benny, I’ve got to ask, is Will with you?” The silence that follows is telling and Frankie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his knuckles into the eyelids.

“No,” Benny’s voice comes back after a long pause, “I haven’t heard from him since the outbreak. I was meant to have dinner with him and Hannah that night, but then shit started popping off and when he didn’t come home Hannah and I got really worried. She stayed behind at their house, and I took the car to go look for him at the office. I tried getting to it but there were infected everywhere, and…” The line goes quiet for so long Frankie starts to think the connection’s been lost before Benny’s voice finally comes through the static. “The building was on fire, that restaurant by the entrance, something must’ve made it catch, because it was blazing. If he was still in the building…or in the street…”

“Pope said he’d spoken to a soldier from the New York QZ who mentioned a guy who sounded like Will,” Frankie says, just to give Ben some semblance of hope.

“I’ve asked everyone, Fish, every QZ we’re in touch with, no one has heard of William Miller.” Even through the crackling line Frankie can hear Benny’s deep sigh, “I’m not giving up but…Hannah’s grieving him, she doesn’t think he made it, and the more time that passes…” Benny’s voice drops off.

“I’m really sorry, Ben, I really am, man, but I’ll keep asking here too, ok?”

“Frankie, when Ingrid told me about you guys being in quarantine she said it was only you and your girl…?”

Frankie was expecting Benny to ask but he still feels his throat close up as the memory of his daughter surges to the surface and he clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. He shakes his head, his eyes on his hands, before he remembers the other man can’t see him.

“She didn’t make it,” he presses out between his teeth and the tension in his voice lets Benny know, through the patchy radio line and miles that separate them, how fragile Frankie is. He’s quiet on the other end when Frankie lets go of the button, pressing it down on his end to speak but he can’t find the words, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again. Finally, after what feels like minutes he just breathes out a low Fuck over the airwaves.

“Yeah,” Frankie’s voice comes through, low and tight, and the silence stretches between them again untill Frankie shakes his head to clear it, “Listen, Benny, I’ve got to go, what’s the message for HQ?”

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to keep you,” Benny says, picking up a folder at his end. “There’s a convoy coming through, ETA Monday next week. Three transfers, agreed upon supplies and ammo, all accounted for.”

“Ok, got it, I’ll pass it on.” Frankie responds, jotting down the information on the pad next to the microphone. “Listen, we were talking about applying for a transfer over to Arlington, all three of us, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely man, put me down as a reference on the application, I’ll get it through. I don’t think Arlington is in any better state than Franklin but at least we’ll be in the same QZ.”

“Ok, good, we’ll get that done. I’ve gotta sign off now, Benny. Fucking great hearing your voice though, man.”

“Same, Fish, really fucking same, stay safe, all of you.”

Benny hesitates, Frankie can hear it in his voice, years of knowing Benny and he can all but see the look on the younger man’s face. “I’m really sorry about Lucía, I loved- love her.”

“Thanks, Benny,” Frankie pushes his nails into his palms again. “I’ll talk to you soon, man, ok?”

“Yeah, talk to you soon and see you soon, gonna be good, man.”

Frankie signs off and leans back in his chair, taking a moment to shove the memories of Lucía into the back of his mind before he goes on duty. He hears steps in the corridor and looks up, his C.O. looking in through the door.

“Everything ok, Morales?”

“Yes, sir, just gonna pass this message from Arlington to HQ.”

“Good, sign out your gun when you’re done and join Johnsson in the training yard.”

“Yes, sir”.

He pushes up out of the chair and gets to work, forcing his mind into soldier mode for the rest of the day.

Chapter 19

A note on how Pope greets Frankie: "Cada día eres más feo" (Every day you're uglier). It's what Frankie says to Pope when they greet each other in Triple Frontier (so it felt fitting to use here), except Pedro says something along the lines of "Ca´día más feo"if I'm hearing it correctly. I had to ask the latino husband and he says it's basically just sloppy Spanish, dropping half the words and mashing the rest together. So I went with the grammatically correct version, husband approved. 😅

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction

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luis-block · 1 year

Note

You know what? I'm in the mood for some angst.

How about a reader who's the twin sister to Narinder, making her the bishop of Life to his Death.

And while she wasn't sealed away like her brother was (she tried very, very hard to deescalate the situation.).....She was still gravely injured by Nari, and the rest of her siblings became extremely distrustful of her and in some cases verbally/mentally abusive (Heket).

So one day she just vanishes....no one knows where she went, not even her closet followers know, and when they search her personal chambers they find a note and.....her crown, the note reads that she couldn't take it anymore, that she's left the lands of the old faith, her position as a bishop and godhood, and that she's.... denounced everyone, even Nari as her family....

oh my heart

Warnings: Sad

The One who Gives (reader) meets the Lamb

The lamb looks to the large cave on the small island in the middle of the sea. He knows this is were she is, where she has been hiding out for almost a thousand years. He looks back to Plimbo, who gives him a thumbs up in encouragement. “This is were she’s got to be! Its got her sign on the entrance and everything! But I’m sure not going in there, not sir. Fighting that mad goddess would be like back talking my Mother-in-law!” He said laughing at his own joke. The lamb shakes his head and goes into the cave.

He hears… crying, sobbing actually. God tears are everywhere, like someone was stashing them in the walls of the cave. He had gathered various intel from her siblings (now followers) about her. She was the closest with Narinder; as the life to his death, the kind to his cruel, the only one of his siblings to refuse to chain him in her realm. It was what he took from her in his selfish rage that hurt her the most, taking half of her heart and switching it with his.

She apparently was ridiculed by her siblings for letting herself miss the One who Waits openly, Heket being the worst of all. The stories differ from sibling to sibling, but all expressed missing her soft and kind demeanor and love for bringing spring and summer so Narinder could bring fall and winter to the region. But how she will act now is the question, Narinder is her twin, so his thoughts weighted down on the lambs mind the most.

“Angry, she has half of my heart and soul in her. The part of her heart in my chest is the reason I feel some happiness and compassion now. I suppose she got my rage in return..” The former god of death said solemnly in private. “I just want her back, she was the sun to my moon, my only sibling would that opposed my imprisonment, and she is the only one I regret hurting in my rage.”

The lamb sees her, (Y/N), The One who Gives, the goddess of life and 'former' holder of the White crown. She has no crown, but still retains her height and magic aura like the others, as none of her followers or her siblings let anyone put it on. She wears a red robe with a white strip down the middle, as a morning robe. So, she is stuck in godly limbo, which one could say is worst that purgatory. The lamb stops as the crying comes to a sudden end, a cat-like growl coming from the dark corner she has resided in for a thousand years finally being disturbed.

“Who are you lamb? You wear my twins crown, but what do you want?” She snarled, coming out of the darkness. She was a fluffy white cat, having three eyes that glowed white with red pupils. She looked worse for wear, but still looked well enough for a fight. “I am here to take you home, your family are followers of me now. They all asked me to come and save you, one way or another.” The lamb said calmly as he circled with her around the cave, trying to stay parallel to her.

“To save me?! I don’t believe you, little lamb. I loved them all unconditionally, and what did I get? Distrust, words of accusation and malice and half of my heart taken and switched! I wish not to see any of them ever again, leave me to suffer alone for eternity.” She said coldly, sounding so different than her families description of her. She turns to walk away but stops dead in her tracks when the lamb simply states “No, you are coming with me! I am the god of death, One of two of the last bishops of the old faith. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, you still are a bishop. You left your duties, and I have come here to make you the follower you deserve to be.” You turn in shock, then the lamb noted your three eyes turning fully blood red. It was as if your eyes did the opposite of Narinder’s eyes, showing your connection on a deep level.

“Fine, If you want to fight O' new god of Death, then come fight me! I know all of the tricks of the red crown! And even without the White crown I can still beat you!” She seethes, floating with her face covered in eyes and rings of light and eyes circling around her quickly. This was going to be a long fight, the lamb thought as he took the first attack.

#cult of the lamb reader #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl lambert #cotl lamb

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training4theapocalypse · 2 months

Text

Finders Keepers Ch 17. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, a little bit rough but, like, in a romantic way, author once again refusing to acknowledge she has a hand covering mouth during sex kink

Summary: At Seafarer's Beacon you feel stuck in limbo. McLaggen is determined to do something to give you purpose again.

A/N: I'm sorry I teased a little subby moment with McLaggen at the end of the last chapter but this chapter took so many rewrites because it turns out I don't have a dominant bone in my body so you'll need to pretend it happened off-screen. Anyway...

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 17: Purpose

You spot a tiny white spatter on the t-shirt you’re wearing as you finish brushing your teeth before bed in the bathroom. It’s clean. Or at least was until your spearmint toothpaste marked it. Freshly laundered so it doesn’t smell like him in the way you’d prefer. The shoulders are too broad. The seams hang loosely around your arms. But the old Gryffindor Qudditch training top fits you like you’re wearing a piece of his soul.

“I’ve got toothpaste on your top,” you remark absently to McLaggen next door in the bedroom.

It’s not like you’ve said something profound but when McLaggen doesn’t reply it sticks out like a splinter. You often bat snippets of unremarkable things to each other, like two beaters at bludger practice. If he finds something useful from a book from his uncle’s collection, he just reads it aloud and says “I should remember that,” instead of writing it down. As if imprinting the words on you means he’ll commit it to memory.

But when he doesn’t fire something back, you open the bathroom door. He’s sitting shirtless in his plaid pyjama bottoms. Even though it’s the coldest Christmas Eve that you ever remember experiencing, your bedroom at the top of the lighthouse is warm. Heat from the hearth in the kitchen on the bottom floor rises the whole way through Seafarers Beacon, making everything feel warm and cosy. You tilt your head, waiting for him to lower the copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet but he doesn’t notice you standing in the doorway - he’s holding it so high that it’s covering his face.

“Are you still reading that?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

You glance at the white, frosty landscape outside the window as you wander over and climb into bed beside him, reading over his shoulder. The development he’s reading about isn’t significant - a short paragraph assuring the wizarding community that repairs to Azkaban are ongoing - but there’s a tiny quote from his dad that he read out to you this morning. And he’s been reading and re-reading all day, ever since his eyes first landed on it on the kitchen table while the rest of you were talking and buttering toast.

“I’m sorry you can’t see your mum and dad tomorrow.”

It’s not that you’ve been having an unpleasant time at Seafarer’s Beacon. But Christmas here has felt like a strained effort to replicate Christmas at home, or even, to some extent, Christmas at Hogwarts. Marietta has spent the past few days decorating the kitchen at the bottom landing of the lighthouse. Paper snowflakes whirl around the empty space in the middle of the empty space between the staircase spiralling around the outer walls and up the seven floors.

“It’s fine,” McLaggen says and clears his throat. “I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine.” You rest your hand on his arm and he lets the Daily Prophet fall to his lap, still staring at the small paragraph with his dad’s words. “I wish I could see my mum and dad too - it’s okay for us to be sad about it.”

He nods. “I know - I miss them. Especially after reading about Dad today. But this time of year makes me… I - I dunno. It’s complicated. I still haven’t really forgiven him for handing you over.”

“Cormac -” you hesitate. “- your dad… he did what he had to do. I forgive him for choosing to save you and your family over me - someone who’s practically a stranger. I mean, if I was in his position…?”

He presses his palms hard into his eyes. Usually so bright and green, tonight they’re bloodshot. “You’d really make a choice like that?”

“All I know is that right now, I’d do whatever it takes to keep us safe.”

“All of us,” he affirms, sitting up properly.

“Well… yes -” You say slowly. “But if it comes to it, what I meant was you and I.”

“Don’t talk like that. We’re all in this together.”

“Cormac, you had to choose between me and Eddie when you had to get one of us out of Azkaban -”

“That was different.”

“Every single time we’re faced with a difficult decision it’s different. It was different for you. Different for your dad. We’re in the middle of a war and that’s how war is.”

McLaggen tosses the newspaper aside. “I just wish we could do something. Something to win the war. I feel useless stuck in here.”

“I don’t think there is.”

Because you’ve already racked your brains. You and McLaggen have had this conversation several times already.

Both breakouts from Azkaban have rendered you almost completely isolated from the outside world. Now that Marietta and McLaggen are both assumed kidnapped, your insider knowledge of the Ministry has been shut off. With Krum and Davies here, you’ve got no idea what’s happening internationally. The only real source of information you have that isn’t Ministry propaganda is Potterwatch, and aside from reporting deaths and other swathes of bad news, they don’t seem to have much more information than you do holed up here.

“What about the snatchers they mentioned on Potterwatch? Couldn’t we go after them?” he asks.

“And what are we supposed to do with them? We can’t hand them in to the aurors. It’s not like they’re doing anything illegally - this is all Ministry sanctioned,” you remind him.

“I was more thinking along the lines of teaching them a lesson.”

“What? Like, kill them?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Nah just scare them - rough them up a little.”

“Cormac, we’re not gonna start dealing out vigilante justice. And especially not when half of us are Undesirables. It could go seriously wrong.” You tilt your head, feeling slightly worried that being so cooped up, being away from his parents and the rest of the outside world is making him want to behave recklessly. “And you’re supposed to be kidnapped, remember? If you’re seen outside again people will get suspicious. All we can do is wait,” you say softly, touching your lips against his bare shoulder. “Wait here and stay safe.”

He shakes his head. “We should be training. Like when Potter was in charge of Dumbledore’s Army. Duelling. Practising defensive spells. If we’re prepared then maybe, just maybe, none of us will have to make a difficult choice about who to save.”

You nod and rest your head on your white down pillow, looking at him as you lie on your side. “Let’s start the day after tomorrow. First thing on Boxing Day.”

“Yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow as if he was worried you’d think it was another bad idea.

“Yeah, it’ll give us something useful to do - I’m kind of sick of doing nothing.” You sigh. “Being here has made me realise how slowly time passes without Quidditch… I wish there was enough room to fly properly.”

Cormac rests his head on the pillow too, lying on his back and looking up at the curved, coral ceiling thoughtfully. His brow is slightly furrowed in concentration.

“I could try to work out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm?”

“You can do that?” You blink. Your heart soars at the idea that you might be able to feel the wind in your hair again.

“I mean, it definitely won’t be easy but - yeah, I think so. I’ll get it sorted if it’d make you happy. Who knows how long this war will last? You might as well have someplace to fly.”

God, he’s so sweet.

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to. Instead you curl into the crook of his arm and you both drift off. You, wrapped in his arms as your dreams take you to the sky once more.

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

Training breathes new life into Seafarer’s Beacon. Everyone is invigorated by the opportunity to do something that isn’t just lounging around, existing. You’re Dumbledore’s Army, after all. You’re part of the resistance.

McLaggen and Eddie spend days working out how to do an extremely complex piece of magic to extend the perimeter of the Fideleus charm so you have space to fly. You think you could cry when you get onto your broom and fly properly for the first time since your mission to Azkaban.

Marietta gets to work transfiguring a scarecrow into a working duelling dummy and creating so many duplicates you feel like you’re facing a small army when you step into the garden one spring afternoon.

Cho scours the Daily Prophet - her curious intellect and keen eye for detail help her read between the lines to make sense of what’s really happening. She sends coded letters with her theories to Lee Jordan so he can confirm them with his contacts and inform Potterwatch listeners. You all huddle around the radio every other night and you squeeze her hand when Lee’s reporting follows her leads.

Katie and Leanne find that there’s more than just fiction in McLaggen’s uncle’s old bookcase and find an extensive collection of defensive spells and healing potions that can be used in combat. They forage herbs in the lighthouse’s magical garden and order rarer potion ingredients by owl post.

You, Krum and Davies, put everyone through flying drills until even Marietta is confident on a broom. Everyone practises casting curses while flying - it’s much harder to keep balance than it looks. When Krum finds out just how talented a Seeker Cho is, you can practically see little hearts forming in his eyes. When you toss an apple her way one day in the kitchen and she catches it one-handed without even looking, you think Krum might propose to her then and there.

Even as the months slip by, the Ministry is taking your threat about breaking into Azkaban again seriously. There have been no more Muggleborns sent to prison. And you tell yourself that as long as you’re here, and the Ministry knows you’ll retaliate, you’re doing something to help win this war.

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

“See anything?” asks McLaggen, one late May evening as the two of you finish clearing up the garden after duelling practice. You can hear the others in the kitchen having final cups of tea before bed except for Cho who had to run upstairs to wash her hair after you sent such a powerful disarming spell your way that she’d ended up flat on her back in the rather muddy vegetable patch.

“I think something might have cracked a window pane on the greenhouse?” You suggest as you wave your wand over a heavily battered and burned duelling dummy. “Reparo!”

“On it,” says McLaggen, wandering over to assess the damage. “...I can’t see anything” He calls from behind the greenhouse.

“I definitely heard something smash,” you say, frowning at a slightly squashed courgette in the vegetable patch and making a mental note to cast a protective charm over them next time you’re practising in the garden. “I hope it’s not one of the lighthouse windows.”

You follow the garden path around past the greenhouse to find McLaggen standing at the other side of Seafarer’s Beacon, pointing his wand at a window. Beautiful, warm light cascades across his handsome face. It’s late evening but the sun still hasn’t set.

“Found it. It was a window. Easily fixed though,” he says, lowering his wand and turning to face you. “You’re getting much better at duelling by the way. That last one with Cho was pretty evenly matched.”

“I’m just glad I’m not the worst anymore. I think I’m better than Marietta now. Maybe Eddie too - on a good day.”

“Not everything has to be a competition,” laughs McLaggen before kissing the top of your head and pulling you into his chest.

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re winning. You’re the best at duelling,” you grumble, although you’re not jealous. The thought is a comforting one, you think as you close your eyes and inhale his dark, spicy scent.

“No, I think Krum is probably the best,” says McLaggen thoughtfully.

You look up at him. “Y’know when I first met you, I don’t think you’d ever have admitted someone was better than you at something,” you tease.

He chuckles softly. The garden hums with the sounds of nature as McLaggen holds you to his chest and stares out at the amber sky as the sun sets over the sea, interrupted only by the distant echo of laughter from the kitchen from inside - the unmistakable noises of the others joking together before they retire to bed.

��Thank you for doing all this,” you tell him. Just being on a broom has - ironically - grounded you. It’s made everything feel alright again. And now that you’re spending every day outside in the fresh air and every night insight surrounded by your new found family, the shadows of Azkaban have long left your face.

“It wasn’t just me. Eddie helped with the Fidelius Charm -”

“Not just the Fidelius Charm. For giving us all purpose again. And somewhere safe to stay.”

“It’s my Uncle’s house -”

"You know -" you cut across him, " - when you volunteered to apparate home with Mary Cattermole, I was furious with you because I was scared." Your eyes meet his green ones, finding the warmth and strength that’s become so familiar. "But I should have expected it from you. You always go way beyond what any ordinary person would do in that sort of situation. And I mean, for goodness sake, who else out there can say their boyfriend got them out of Azkaban?"

McLaggen exhales in an embarrassed sort of way and turns his head back from the window. “It’s not - I mean when you say it like that it sounds much more impressive than it is. I’m just doing what anyone else would do. ”

"Most people would save their own skin.” You put your hand directly above his heart, feeling it beating through his chest. "That fact we’re all still alive isn’t because of this lighthouse. It's because of who you are,” you tell him fiercely.

You look up at him, bathed in the warm light from the sun against the backdrop of the whitewashed lighthouse. He looks down at you with an oddly reminiscent look on his face.

“You’re more like yourself again.”

You nod. The past few months have made you feel like you’re the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain again. You love getting to fly with Cho and Davies again. It’s just like old times. But you never dreamed you’d be flying with Viktor Krum, never mind have him actually take direction from you when you yell mid-air about flying formations for combat.

Cormac curls a finger under your chin and kisses you. You link your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close to him. Everything slots together perfectly. Well, almost perfectly - you need to stand on your tiptoes but to you, that just makes him more perfect. Like he’s your missing piece of a puzzle.

He parts his lips and your tongue finds his. Your fingers become entwined in Cormac’s messy curls as you press your hips into his. The world outside the Fidelius Charm might be chaotic, fraught with fear and devastation and death but in this pretty, seaside garden where the evening light warms your back as you kiss Cormac, you have the sanctuary of each other.

Cormac’s large hands roam the curve of your waist under your t-shirt and you feel callouses on his palms and fingertips from so much flying and duelling. And you know he believes if you all train enough none of you will ever fall in the war. He trains so hard because he thinks that if he does when the time comes, he can protect everyone. Save everyone.

And you hope beyond hope that you’ll never need to put your training to use. But you’ve been listening to Potterwatch every night. The tone has been subtly shifting since your giggled huddling and listening back before Christmas. You know things are getting worse out there. Something in the air tells you that you’re going to have to act - and soon.

But not right now.

Right now all you want to think about is each other.

“You know, you don’t have to be so selfless all the time,” you say, unfastening Cormac’s belt and getting to your knees on the grass in front of him. Fuck, he looks even taller like this.

He wastes no time helping you and pulls his cock out from his boxers. You blink up at him, taking a shuddering breath when you see him - already thick and hard and ready for you. Even after all this time together, your stomach flips when you’re reminded that his cock is just as beautiful as he is. You take him in your hands and place tiny kisses along the underside of his length.

“You can let me do things too,” you whisper, his tip just brushing your lips as you breathe the words. Cormac leans his head back against the curved exterior wall.

You can’t take your eyes off him as you slowly wrap your lips around his head and circle it with your warm, hot tongue. The light makes every hair visible on the small strip of skin on his lower abdomen, shining and golden. The tiny freckles on his arms are getting darker now the early summer sun has been cascading down on you while you’ve been training in the garden.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he tells you, threading his hands through your hair. He’s messing it up but the ache between your legs is pulsing too pleasantly for you to care. It would almost be distracting if you weren’t so preoccupied with sucking and swirling your tongue around him. “My pretty girl.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes as he swallows thickly and leans his head back. His adam’s apple is visible as he swallows back a steadying breath. Just seeing him enjoying the feel of your hot, wet mouth makes you moan around him. The vibrations make his eyes snap back towards you just in time for him to watch you swallow his entire length down your throat. His grip tightens in your hair when he bottoms out and lets out a groan.

You don’t hold back. You press your head down as much as you can, blocking your own airways and feeling saliva dripping down your chin as his cock fills your mouth up. Cormac gently pulls back, letting you briefly take a gulp of air but the way you eagerly take him again makes him pant harder, his shoulders rising and falling with his breathing as you work your mouth.

“Fuck, let me fuck you.” You detach from him with a gasp and shake your head, blinking back tears. His grip tightens. “I don’t want to cum. Not yet.”

“Be selfish for once. Finish here. Please,” you say through laboured pants as you jerk him off in your hand and present your tongue. You go to take him in your mouth again but he grabs your upper arm.

“I am being selfish.” Cormac hoists you to your feet. Before you know it, you’re being spun around and pressed up against the wall. You feel the bumpy whitewash paint under your palms when he whispers in your ear from behind. “You think I want to fuck you as a favour to you or something?”

His hands unbutton your jeans and he pulls them and your underwear down over your ass. You’re able to turn your head just enough to see him casting his eyes over your body with that appraising smirk that makes you fold every fucking time you see it. It’s been over a year and a half since that stupidly gorgeous dimpled smile made you feel butterflies in a way you hadn’t expected. Just that look is still enough to make you feel like you’ve been knocked off your broom.

And to him, the way you look right this second - dishevelled and pouting because you’re not getting your own way - is equally captivating. Everyone thinks you’re the loud, domineering one in the relationship and that it’s him who goes along with whatever you say. But Cormac doesn’t care what they think because he knows the truth of it. Even when you take the reins, climbing on top of him or setting the pace, all it takes is a single whispered word from him, or his hand gently guiding you at your lower back that keeps your dynamic exactly how he likes it.

And here you are once again, as malleable as if he’s used a softening charm on you.

Before you realise what’s happening Cormac’s tongue sucks your earlobe as he presses your body between his and the wall. You open your mouth to argue but instead take a sharp inhale when he slaps your ass, followed quickly by his hands groping and massaging all over your body - going from squeezing your backside to groping your tits and back again like he doesn’t have enough hands to touch you everywhere he wants to at once.

“I - I wanted to make you cum with my mouth,” you complain as he pushes your bra up to pinch your nipple between two fingers but you don’t protest any further - you’re too turned on to care. From how flush he’s pressed against you, you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your backside, wet with your saliva and his precum.

You’d think after a hard day of training, Cormac would be exhausted - that he’d have no testosterone left in his body. But you know from experience over the past few months that this isn’t the case. You’re not sure whether it’s seeing you fight that turns him on or if his ego is slightly bruised from having Krum as fierce duelling competition - either way, he comes to bed most evenings murmuring sweet things in your ear and slipping his Gryffindor training tshirt off our your body before you’ve barely had a chance to wear it.

This evening is only different because he can’t wait until you’re back in your bedroom to have you. He kisses your neck and draws the tips of his fingers along your slit, dragging your wetness over your clit.

“I couldn’t let that happen. Not when all I can think about is how wet this cunt is for me,”

You let out a low, shaky breath. Fuck, you love it when he gets in this mood. He’s so filthy. Talking to you like how you sort of expected he would when you first met him. Before you found out how sweet and soft he is.

Usually.

Fuck.

Your legs twitch involuntarily when Cormac drags the pad of his middle finger across your clit and dips it through your sopping-wet folds. You can’t move much but you can’t stop your hips from grinding with his fingers, chasing the feeling of him toying with you.

“Yes. Ah fuck - yes,” you squeal as he draws the words from you with his touch.

“Shh, shh, shh…” He soothes, tutting gently. He pulls his wet fingers back over your clit, swirling in circles around the throbbing clutch of nerves. “The others are through the wall. You need to be quiet.”

As if testing you, his wet strokes over your clit pick up pace - his calloused fingers feel so deliciously wet and rough all at once. You whine pathetically.

“Can’t you - oh, god, can’t you cast a sound-dampening charm?” you whimper, your fingers searching for something to grip. Your palms just claw helplessly against the surface of the exterior wall as his chest presses into your back.

“I don’t think so. I think you need to show me you can be good.”

You squirm but there’s nowhere you can move while you’re pressed between him and the wall. “I will. I’ll do whatever you say,” you pant. The pads of Cormac’s fingers continue pressing circles the pressure building inside you as your walls clamp around nothing. You need him - you need his fingers, his cock - fuck, anything inside you. “Just fuck me. Please, Cormac.”

You know the drill. You know he loves hearing his name. Having you beg for his cock. And you’re running out of time - your twitching and convulsing is picking up pace. “Q-q-quick, please, I want to cum on your cock.”

Cormac’s hands leave your body so he can take his cock and tease you between your folds. You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance and whine. Fuck, you need to cum. You bring your hand between your legs to start rubbing yourself in his absence but he moves your hand out of the way.

“Keep your hands where they were.”

You place your palms flat against the wall, splaying your fingers, and feel your knees buckle when Cormac sheathes himself into you with one forceful roll of his hips.

He curls one arm around your chest and the other slips down your body to play with your clit as he jerks his hips up, each thrust sends his hips smacking against your skin.

The burning ache in your pelvis crackles and fizzes inside you while Cormac fucks you. Your hands scrabble against the wall and you feel chalky, white paint crumbling under your fingernails as the walls of your cunt spasm, grateful for Cormac’s long, thick cock to grip onto.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” The curse tumbles from your lips. You’re so boxed in that your cheek presses against the rough surface of the wall. All you can do is close your eyes and fucking take the way that Cormac is brutally slamming himself into your tight heat while his hand dances perfect, rhythmic circles over your clit.

You seize up and cry out and the arm that Cormac had wrapped around your chest claps over your mouth, pulling your head back and dampening your wailing. “Let it all out for me - quietly,” he growls in your ear.

There’s a drop like when you descend in the air on your broom too quickly - your body reacting after your brain. Your core plummets and everything implodes as you sob against his palm, melting into his touch.

“Good - that’s it, baby,” he says, more softly this time as your orgasm, blinding hot, makes your cunt convulse and clamp around him.

You cum so hard that you think your legs give way - you can’t tell because his strong body pushing yours against the wall keeps you upright. Tingles spasm from your core right down the backs of your thighs.

Cormac groans too. He moves his hand from your mouth so he can push his hips against your ass and shove his twitching cock as far as it can go inside you. When you whisper his name shakily and tell him you love him, he’s done for. Warmth floods your insides as he cums, filling you up as he grunts into the column of your throat against your racing pulse.

Even as you’re pressed up against the wall with his cum leaking out of you, you feel like he belongs here with you. Not in the lighthouse - or against the lighthouse - necessarily. Just here. Inside you. With nothing but the sounds of your heaving breathing and waves crashing against the cliffs in the distance to interrupt you.

Eventually, his mouth breaks into a smile against your skin and his laugh tickles your neck.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“We’ve got a perfectly good bed upstairs and we’re still sneaking around like we used to do under the Quidditch stands at school.”

He pulls out of you carefully and offers you his t-shirt to clean up the mess. You decide it’d be less conspicuous to wash your jeans and underwear in the laundry tomorrow morning than for McLaggen to return back inside suddenly missing a t-shirt.

“We never did that under the Quidditch stands,” you say, turning around and leaning your back against the wall so you can button up your jeans. “We’d have been expelled if we were caught.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure Madam Hooch would have been totally fine if she caught us just doing hand stuff,” he grins.

“Well, we were stupid back then,” you laugh.

“It was fun though. I kind of miss those Quidditch stands.”

“Even when we’re old and married and I’m winning the Quidditch World Cup. I’ll want to meet you under the stands afterwards to celebrate.”

“Yeah, right. If I wait for Scotland to win the Quidditch World Cup for our next fumble under the stands, I’ll die without ever doing it again.”

“You really think I won’t go out of my way to win the Quidditch World Cup just to prove you wrong?”

“Anyone else? No. But you? I’m counting on it.”

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

When you quietly come back inside the back door to the empty kitchen, you insist on making a cup of tea for yourself and a cup of coffee for McLaggen while he goes upstairs - you insisted that he needs to let you do something for him for once. That beautiful post-sex warmth nestles into your chest and makes between your legs ache pleasantly. Nothing can go wrong when you feel like this. You boil the kettle and set to finding yours and McLaggen’s favourite mugs in the cupboard when a yell from upstairs makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Cho?!” It’s McLaggen’s voice. The urgency in his voice makes the hair stand up on the back of your arms.

You run to the bottom of the spiral staircase and skid to a halt, looking up at all the seven floors winding above you. You crane your neck upwards to see McLaggen on the topmost floor looking over the bannister - a small, gold something glints in his hand. A galleon?

“Cormac? Did you see?” Katie’s head appears diagonally across from McLaggen on the floor below. She looks down at you standing in the middle of the kitchen and then up to McLaggen at the top of the lighthouse.

“Whazgoin’on?” yawns Davies, coming out of his bedroom opposite Katie’s. “Are the others back from Puddlemere?”

“Not yet. But they’re about to be.” Leanne pads out onto the landing directly above you in her pyjamas, closely examining a galleon in the palm of her hand. “Merlin’s pants…”

“Mine just came through too!” Marietta too appears outside her bedroom door, followed by a bleary-eyed Carmichael. She looks up at Katie, Davies and McLaggen.

“Guys, this is it,” says Cho leaning over the bannister across from McLaggen. Krum curiously joins her, looking equally as puzzled as you are.

“Can someone please explain what is going on!?” you bellow from the bottom of the staircase as if calling everyone to attention in Quidditch practice.

“It’s our coins from when we were in the D.A. The old D.A., I mean,” says Marietta. “It’s what we used to find out when the next meetings were.”

“And? What do they say?”

“It’s Neville Longbottom. He says they’re getting ready to fight at Hogwarts and that we’ve to join them,” says Cho.

“Fight?” Your stomach drops. “Fight who? Why?”

“Only one way to find out,” McLaggen replies as you look up at him in disbelief.

He nods at you reassuringly and you take a deep breath. This is what you’ve been preparing for after all, right? It’s not just pretend. You’re simultaneously more and less prepared than when you broke into Azkaban. You’re much better in combat now but god, you need a plan. More details. Something you can control.

You nod. “Alright. Well, we’ll get some rest and meet up first thing tomorrow with Wood and the others so we can come up with -”

“No,” says McLaggen. “Now. They’re fighting now. We need to leave. Right now.”

You look up at him. Absurdly, all you can think now is that you really need to change your jeans.

Chapter 18: Calling

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Hiii!! I just came across your blog and I seen you are doing requests and that you hit over 100 followers. That’s amazing! Congratulations I was thinking about requesting one of your prompts!

#5 Person A kissing person B in the rain. With Jake

He knows the reader has always wanted to be kissed in the rain but the opportunity never comes til he tries to propose to her! And obviously she has yes! Mayjor fluffy!!

Again congratulations!!

Hi Elizabeth! Thanks so much for this request! It's kissing in the rain, and I know you'd mentioned Reader always wanting to be kissed in the rain, but I took it a bit differently! I hope you like it anyways! Here's Fluff Prompt 5 with Jake, Person A kissing person B in the rain.

Welcome Home

Nowadays, when you get asked what your favorite place to go in the world is, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to name a place. In truth, your favorite place isn’t a place but rather any place you go with one specific person. Even trips to the grocery store or hardware store are fun when it’s with Jake by your side. Any trips you take, and domesticity you share with Jake are always on a timer controlled by the US Navy. But you still wouldn’t trade your relationship for anything in the world.

You’ll even willingly wake up early in the morning to fight San Diego traffic on the way to the waterfront in the middle of the worst rainstorm San Diego has ever seen to meet Jake’s aircraft carrier as it docks to bring your heart home. You’re not alone, either. So many people are waiting at the docks littering the pavement in small groups huddled under umbrellas. You know it’s to welcome family and friends home.

Out of the fog shrouding the water, you finally see the hulking gray bulk of the ship as it approaches its’ berth. There are uniforms milling all around the upper deck. You’re immediately at attention, craning your eyes to look for a glimpse of aviator green among all the khaki-clad souls onboard. No matter how you search, you can’t see even a glimpse of him. From prior experience, you know the aviators are always the last off of the ship. But no matter how cold you are or how the rain is finding its way into your boots, you won’t move. It feels like your legs are frozen to the ground, stuck in a limbo zone of worries and tension until you can see his face again.

Finally, you can see the crowd of Navy personnel being dismissed. They leave the ship in waves. All around you, you can see the happy reunions around you. There are so many families in the crowd. Small children run to meet their fathers and mothers who have been serving for months away from home. There are very few dry eyes in sight. It makes you crave the opportunity to give him that, too. To see little legs toddle a small body right into Jake's arms. To see the smile on his face when he knows that he's home safe and sound with the people he loves most in the world.

Finally, the aviators disembark. They're a milling crowd of olive green flight suits. It's like divine intervention when a break in the crowd shows you Payback and Rooster. That's when you begin to jostle your way through the crowd. Your heart and mind are both fixated on one person. Your pace slows as you approach them, neck craning as you search for Jake. But he's not there. Your heart falls at the thought of a flag being all you have left of him. Phoenix sees you first. She must also see how your face falls because you’re soon being hugged tight.

"Hey, Natasha. How are you?" Your voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the rain pouring down.

"Hey! I’m doing alright. It was a long deployment. I still feel like I’m on board even when I’m standing on solid ground." She's smiling. She wouldn't be smiling at you if he was gone, right? "You're looking for Jake, huh?" She releases you from the hug and then turns you around. "Well, there he is."

It takes you a while to figure out what Natasha’s pointing at. You can’t comprehend what you’re seeing. It’s Jake alright, hale and hearty and whole. It’s that he’s on one knee in the pouring rain that you’re glazing at in shock. Your umbrella falls out of your hand as you step forward. You don’t care that you’re getting drenched. All you can see is Jake.

“Hi, Cowboy.” Your voice is soft as you take his outstretched hand. “What’s all this?”

“This, sweetheart, is me telling you that I love you. I love coming home to you. I love seeing you every day, whether you’re in your pajamas or dressed up to go out. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you for accepting my life-long affair with the US Navy. Marry me? Make me the happiest man in the world?” You can’t hold back your sobs as you drop to your knees on the wet pavement and kiss him as fiercely as you can.

“Is that a yes, darlin’?” You’re smiling at the huge grin on his face.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jake! I will marry you!” You’re crying as he sets the ring on your finger before kissing you again. You can’t resist kissing him over and over again. Your knees are aching and stiff when you finally stand. You don’t care, though, not when you’ve got Jake wrapped around you and your friends all around you.

Your ebullient mood extends through the rest of the night. Though the squadron offers to buy drinks for you and Jake at the Hard Deck, you just want to get your fiance home. There’s also the little fact that both of you are drenched, and your teeth are already chattering from the cold. The rest of your night is easy as you pop dinner into the oven and enjoy spending time with your fiance. There will be time enough to call your families and share the happy news. The two of you are just happy to be in the same place at the same time again. The domestic bliss sinking through your veins is a feeling you want to keep for a long time. And thankfully for you, you can have it too, once you marry the love of your life. For now, you’ll stick to cuddling into Jake’s arms and sleeping for once easily.

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

#star writes #100 follower celebration #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fluff #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fluff

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celestie0 · 1 month

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Idk if this is weird to ask but can you tell more about your situationship?😭 I’m curious since it inspired the story idkkk

nooo not weird at all haha, i had plans to share more ab it once i was done w kickoff but i dont really mind sharing a bit now (will literally always take up any chance to talk ab it it’s an impulse i cannot resist)

basically i met this guy like halfway through my freshman year of college at a frat event, it was a bit different from kickoff dynamic in that we started hooking up pretty soon after that, just a casual thing, but then the pandemic hit and so he went back home to live w his grandpa/family in new york (i live in cali) once campus shut down and stuff. obviously we couldn’t hook up anymore LMFAO but we still talked a lot and i think it was during this time of just talking to one another that i really started to catch massive feelings for him :”)

i went through some bad anxiety during covid, struggling a lot w my career and if i still wanted to pursue the things i thought i wanted (i think a lot of college students went through this w the pandooski) but he would always be there for me and would stay on facetime calls w me if i was struggling to study, he’d cheer me up w pics of his tibetan dogs lol, just reallyyy sweet ugh when we were long distance i rly saw a side of him i didn’t before and i think that’s what made me fall for him

i confessed to him first, similar to reader in kickoff, n told him we could do long distance until he moved back here. but then he hit me with the “i’m sorry, i can’t date you, i’ve got commitment issues”. in his case, he had a long-term girlfriend in high school for four years who he also was dating into college (before he met me), but he found out she had been cheating on him for a long time w not just one but multiple of his friends 😭 so..he said he has really bad trust issues, and that he really wanted to try to date me, but he just felt like he couldn’t

i was really hurt, obviously, but i think in hindsight maybe it was a responsible decision on his part to not throw me into a mess of a relationship w him, one he knew he wasn’t ready for. but at the time, i just thought that it was bc i wasn’t good enough to change his mind. anyways, he asked if we could still talk and be friends, and i said sure bc i didn’t really want to lose him. i figured i could just wait for him (and i told him that i would)

yeahhh well the waiting was way more fucking painful than i thought. he flew to cali once to visit me when flights were sort of resuming, which is just fucking insane because you’ll fly to see me but you won’t date me 😭, and i told him that it’d be the last time he ever sees me! and it was :”) maybe it was an impulsive decision by me, but idk. yknow when you get stuck in a limbo for what feels like forever that you make a decision just for the sake of making one (it was such a short amt of time in reality, but it felt like forever) he made a comment to me in our last conversation about how he really wished he didn’t have to be someone i had to wait on to change, and that really fuckin stuck w me lmao i cried so hard the drive home from the airport. i think all the “what-ifs” kinda sunk in at that moment

ch7 of kickoff was basically me trying to get inside the head of the guy from my situationship, and see what it’s like to have fears hold you back from wanting to experience something for yourself, something that could be beautiful if you would just give it a chance. i felt like if i wrote it from that angle, i’d have more understanding of my situationship (i dont have commitment issues myself, tbh i’ve never rlly understood the concept. like, i’ve been fucked over by ppl in my life too but i’m never one to punish the next person for it. dealing w my situationship was really hard because of this, i would get really frustrated, but writing ch7 from gojo’s character’s perspective made situationship guy’s feelings make more sense to me, i think, there was a sense of closure in that)

but anyways, i was in love w him for sure. like, possibly infatuated. there was a time where we got into a big argument about something and i think i legit i cried myself into a fever 💀 it was all so crazy and powerful, the feelings, i’ve been involved w other guys since but of course none of it really compares. idk, i guess there are just some people that can make you feel that way, there’s really no use in understanding why.

this sounds so sappy, lmaoo i swear i truly am “over” him in that i hardly think of him that much anymore, n tbh i don’t think of him specifically all that much while i’m writing kickoff, but there are moments where i can’t help but bring those feelings into the story.

there’s a line in ch8, near the end of the bed scene, where reader has a thought like

“You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to.”

yeah. that’s basically how i felt about him.

#damn sorry this is long asf #kickoff #kickoff backstory #asks #anon

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sepublic · 10 months

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Acknowledging that I may be missing the point by trying to figure out the in-universe explanation and logistics, rather than focusing on the metaphor and symbolism behind Emesis Blue;

I think the Plague Doctor might be Fritz Ludwig from the future, possessed and/or under control of his alter ego (Hence the uncharacteristic act). There’s the obvious fact that Jeremy treats Fritz with hostility and fear, and Fritz’s own hallucination of killing Jeremy’s mom. He has the gouged-out eyes and smile, which Fritz receives at the end of the film after crashing.

At the end of the film, Fritz is brought back in the respawn machine, amidst a bunch of fire. In Archibald’s PSA to newly-respawned mercenaries, there’s an inexplicable fire that enters the room just offscreen, so I think there’s a deliberate connection. The only other possibility is that Fritz respawns as the Conagher Slaughterhouse burns down near the end of the movie (note that this would require someone to perform the manual input on the respawn machine, possibly the Plague Doctor). The abrupt fire at the end of the PSA feels too deliberate of a detail to otherwise ignore. Note that right after the video ends with fire, we cut to some photos taken presumably around that time, including of a burning Fritz…

Likewise, we have an example of time travel being an actual thing, and not just a Diazepam-induced hallucination (note Soldier claiming to have never taken any of the pills, only to later interact with his future self). This would explain how Fritz is in two places at once, which he needs to be, given we see him drive past Soldier in his ambulance, followed by the Plague Doctor’s hearse arriving just moments afterwards.

Now Fritz normally would have no reason to kill Jeremy’s mom, but that’s assuming it’s him in control; More than likely, it’s his alter-ego. Now I’ve watched TheWhat Show’s video on Emesis Blue, so I’m inspired by a lot of what he suggested here. But if we go with the idea that Fritz is being possessed by the spirit of the Tenth Class, this may explain a bit...

Dell’s Bar seems to be the limbo, the purgatory, the waiting room that the mercs and others who go through respawn wait in. And we know the respawn machine creates a fresh duplicate of one’s body, meaning respawned mercenaries can interact with their previous corpses; Hence the motherload of identical dead bodies all over the place.

There’s also the hallucination Fritz has, where he’s trapped in a casket inside the church, while the Plague Doctor watches; Foreshadowing both the church he kills Pyro in, and later his own funeral assassination. But it could also symbolize Fritz’s mind/soul being locked away in his body, or perhaps in a briefcase/limbo, while the Plague Doctor takes over...

If we go by the theory that the Plague Doctor is the vengeful ghost of the Tenth Class who has possessed Fritz, I think things begin to come together. After crashing at the end of Emesis Blue, Fritz’s soul is stuck in limbo, awaiting his next respawn. Due to time loop shenanigans, he is respawned in the past as Archibald records his PSA, possibly with only the Tenth Class’ soul inside; Fritz’s soul may have been left behind in limbo, which may be located within the briefcase. Either way, the Tenth Class in total control now.

The fire is an interesting detail; Did the respawn machine malfunction? And this malfunction caused both the flame and the retrieval of future Fritz, instead of his current self? Or maybe, and this is a bit out there but I just want to say it; Maybe the Tenth Class’ soul was plucked straight from Hell, and in doing so brought some hellfire with him that burned the Conagher Slaughterhouse, the first time. We see an apparition of the Tenth Class when Soldier is about to jump over the chasm leading to ‘Hell’, after all; Maybe the Tenth Class went there.

Something I find interesting is that the Plague Doctor seems to be working with BLU Heavy, Pyro, and Zed and Maynard Conagher. Somebody else was holding up Mama Scout’s head when Pyro kidnapped Jeremy, and it appears BLU Heavy was supposed to pass the briefcase to the Plague Doctor near the start of the film. The Plague Doctor’s hearse is a convenient vehicle to transport BLU Heavy’s body to the Conagher Slaughterhouse, to later be revived by RED Medic into a Mr. X reference.

We know Maynard was the one to lock up Jeremy, “according to specification” as he tells Zed. And the Plague Doctor’s hearse is seen right outside the Conagher Slaughterhouse, burning just as its driver did when he first arrived in the past... Obviously the Plague Doctor isn’t being totally honest with the Conagher brothers, since he presumably gave the key to Jeremy’s casket to Fritz; Zed is confused as to how Jeremy escaped.

If the Plague Doctor is a possessed/evil Fritz from the future, that could explain how he has the key; That, or there's a second copy of the same key that Zed and Maynard don’t know about. Maybe there’s only one key and they threw it out, only for the Plague Doctor to retrieve it behind their backs... OR, Fritz held onto the key after freeing Jeremy, bringing it with him all the way to the film’s end; So when he respawns in the past, he has the key with him. And he slides it under his past self’s door near the start of the film.

What puzzles me is what the Plague Doctor’s goal and motive is; Did the Emesis Diazepam lead to memory loss, meaning he doesn’t realize he’s reliving the same events, just from a different role? Is he trying to end the cycle? Set up Soldier to arrive at the Conagher Slaughterhouse, learn the truth, and kill Redmond and Blutarch, breaking free? How did he convince BLU Heavy, Pyro, the Conagher brothers, and presumably RED Sniper into working with him? Is Archibald aware of and working with these guys? Being led to believe they’re helping him lay low, when in reality he’s just bait for Fritz, BLU Soldier, and BLU Spy?

RED Sniper asks Soldier if he wants to die for something worth dying for, after deriding Archibald; Indicating he’s knowingly a part of some plan to end the Gravel Wars. But why try to kill Soldier at the start? Was that just Plan A, and Plan B was to inspire him to end it? Is BLU Heavy even collaborating with the others after being revived, or has his undead state turned him into an uncontrollable monster on nobody’s side?

#emesis blue #tf2 #team fortress 2 #fritz ludwig #speculation #theory #analysis

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noorpersona · 1 month

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The Saga: Tsukishima x Reader Pt. 3 (Pt. 1)

Being on a level in which you were ‘okay’ with Tsukishima Kei was odd.

You still teased each other sure, but that was simply in both of your natures. There was a lack of venom; a lack of hatred in the jabs you took at each other. It was just simply something that you weren’t used to. Ever since that night where you ‘confessed’ to him, he’s began treating you with a sense of neutrality. The change was small, but it was very much impactful.

Even other people were starting to notice it.

“You two seem to be doing better,” Yamaguchi had commented once, while you were giving him and Kei some advice on an English assignment. It was a sort of abrupt comment, said while Kei was off getting a drink from a nearby vending machine, and one that you didn’t expect. It caused to you look up in slight surprise. Yamaguchi stuttered at your expression.

“N-not that you- you two had an-any trouble in the beginning-“ Your laugh cuts off his rambling, “Please, Yamaguchi-kun, don’t pretend like Kei is the nicest person to be around.” You chuckled, watching Kei from afar waiting for his drinks. You didn’t realize, but you were smiling. “But you’re right. We’ve kind of come to an…” You pause, trying to find the right word for it, “Understanding.”

And you really had. You had asked him to start treating you better, and he did. On the nights that he could, he would walk home with you, join you on dinners, and all in all was just more amicable.

You were happy with this evolvement, but that didn’t mean you were satisfied with it.

Because it seemed to bring up so many questions.

You knew that Kei liked you, and you knew that he knew you liked him, yet nothing ever came of it. You were both in that were place, a kind of limbo between just being friends and being more than that, and you seemed perpetually stuck; unable to decide to come down, or march on forward. And Kei wasn’t helping.

He never brought up that night. In fact, it seemed as though he pretended it never happened, and that bothered you. You knew that you shut it down that night, and you would do it over if given the choice, but you couldn’t tell whether he wanted to put in the actual effort to start it up. And while you never had the guts to bring it up with you two doing so well, you could tell that it lingered in the air between you two. Like an awful smell that grew and grew more potent with every moment you ignored it.

But what could you do?

Nothing. You couldn’t do anything about it. You were never one for emotional confrontation, and you’d avoid for as long as you possibly could. If you had the choice between not knowing and being happy, and knowing then being embarrassed and crushed, you’d take not knowing any day.

Yes, because that seems very healthy.

You’re torn from your thoughts when you feel a soft knock to the top of your head. You look up to a suspicious looking Kei.

“What are you thinking about?” Over the past couple weeks, you’ve grown pretty good at masking your facial expressions; so instead of heating up at the idea of telling him that you were in fact thinking about him, your expression remained light and neutral as you quickly thought of a white lie. “About how your tall ass is blocking my sunlight. Move.” You push at his legs, moving him out of eyeline, knowing that he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“I’m going to be leaving for the weekend. Volleyball finals.” He’s extremely short with his sentences. It’s almost as though if he saves his words for the possibility of insulting someone or something. Still, you’re quite used to his abrupt nature, so you nod.

“Tough competition?”

“Should be.”

“You’ll be fine.” He looks down at you, face still passive and neutral as ever.

And if you were being completely honest, you were getting tired of neutrality.

“I didn’t ask for reassurance.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “It’s called being polite, asshole.”

“Insinuating that I’m worried about my skills for the finals, is polite?” Kei has a kind of glint in his eyes, and a sort of upward tilt on his mouth when he tries to start an argument or tease you. Something that used to drive you crazy a couple of months ago, is now something that you realize you yearn for.

You can’t help but smile back at him. A wide teasing one, and it made your stomach flutter.

“If that’s your interpretation of what I said, maybe you’re projecting.” Kei is about to respond, when the bell to signify the next class rings; one of the only classes you two don’t share. You go to pick up your things.

“I’ll be heading home early today. So I’ll see you later, yeah?” Kei only nods, and with that you’re only somewhat charged conversation dries out. You do your best to hide your disappointment and begin to trudge to your next class; slouched and unsatisfied. The whole class is a blur while you try to settle the slush of agitation at the situation and yourself, because you’ve let your emotions block your education once more. The lunch bell rings but you still haven’t settled yourself.

You walk out of the classroom knowing that you’ll need to teach yourself the lesson once you get home tonight, trying to find a quiet place to sit and relax before your next period. Usually, you’d sit with your group of friends or even Kei if you found him, but you seriously wanted to avoid the possibility of someone asking questions on why your face was on a permanent and unmovable downturn.

And it would’ve gone so well had whatever God not have different plans for you.

“Hey it’s her!” It’s a yell full of excitement and amazement. Like the kind you’d hear at a zoo or festival. It surprises you a little, but the boy’s voice was definitely not directed to you anyways. Probably some girl he’s had eyes on, or something like that. You don’t turn around and keep walking towards the stairwell.

“Hey stop!” The voice again.

Okay, that felt a little directed towards you.

You look around, to find a lot of people staring at you and somewhere behind you.

Shit. Those calls were for you, weren’t they?

You slowly turn around, trying to keep your grimace at a minimum when you spot the source of the voice. A short, ginger-haired boy with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a person waving at you like a maniac as he jogged towards you, being accompanied by a taller dark-haired boy that seemed to have a permanent look of disdain on his face.

Like night and day.

“Can…Can I help you?” You ask meekly, your eyes shifting to the other students heavy and unyielding stare, extremely confused as to what they wanted. You couldn’t shake the thought that the both of them looked somewhat familiar…

“I’m Hinata Shouyo! And this guy’s name is Kageyama!” The ginger pointed to himself and his friend respectively, and then it clicked. “And we’re—”

“You’re Kei’s teammates, aren’t you? From volleyball?” Hinata smiles wide, nodding enthusiastically, while he goes to open his mouth when Kageyama cuts in. “You really do call that pretentious shit ‘Kei’.”

It wasn’t even a question, moreso a statement of bewilderment as you hear Hinata’s hiss of warning to the taller player. You didn’t know how to respond, only laughing nervously with a hint of strain in your voice. “Force of habit I guess? Listen, I really gotta—”

“Wait, we need your help!” That made you pause. What could they possibly need you for?

Did something happen with Kei again?

You wait for him to continue. Hinata takes a deep breath like he’s been preparing for this. You have to hold back a slight chuckle at the ridiculous amount of effort he seems to be putting in.

“Your first language is English right?” Ah. Immediately you knew where this was headed.

It was quite clear that you were a foreigner. Your Japanese wasn’t perfect, and there was the more obvious hint that you weren’t Japanese. As well, being in the countryside didn’t help you in looking in-place.

Far from it actually.

Most days you stuck out like a sore thumb. But you didn’t mind it as it never really caused you any harm or benefit. What it did cause though, was an increase in people thinking you were some kind of Messiah in English.

Yes you were in an advanced English class, despite being a first-year, but still. The assumption in itself got you a lot of requests for help with test prep, assignments, readings…

Hell, Kei’s asked you to look over something at least once.

Your expression turned tired as you gave a simple nod. They seem to sense your mood shift. “W-well, we both have this huge assignment due, and you probably know we have the nationals this weekend,” You remember Kei mentioning it earlier.

He never said it was the nationals though. Must be pretty damn important.

You’re a little upset he didn’t tell you just how important it was.

“—We don’t want to let the team down, but if we don’t finish it, we can’t go! Will you help us?” Hinata’s pleading places you back in reality, looking into the desperate eyes of the two boys. Kageyama passionately yells out a ‘Please!’ causing you to step back a little in surprise. You hesitate, unable to keep their unyielding gaze. You really want to tell them that you can’t, make up some fake situation you urgently need to attend to.

But Volleyball is really important to Kei, and you don’t know if you could be at the hands of the team’s loss. Even if it is second-hand.

Plus, these two terrors seemed unrelenting.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your eyes a little. “I… Guess I could look them over?” You could’ve sworn you saw stars in their eyes.

The next few moments were a slew of praise, thanks and plans becoming instantly created as to how you were going to your evening.

And your lunch.

#fanfic #writing #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #hq x reader #hq x you #humor #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio

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