The Flower And The Serpent : A Walt De Ville X Reader FF : One

Bottom of the River Masterlist

Tim Bradford was known to be many things. Hardass, stickler for rules, vengeful, angry. Words like these had been tossed around tirelessly to describe him. If anyone met him today, they would think he was born stuck in his ways, a man destined to be encompassed by the negatives in life. 

But, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't always like he is now. He wasn't like this when he still had his wife.

Tim Bradford x Reader

Act One - Rebirth

Chapter One - Missing

Chapter Two - Searching

Chapter Three - Preparing

Chapter Four - Discovering

Chapter Five - Shooting

Chapter Six - Questioning

Chapter Seven - Waiting

Chapter Eight - Hurting

Chapter Nine - Bargaining

Chapter Ten - Returning

Chapter Eleven - Remembering

Chapter Twelve - Breaking and Entering

Chapter Thirteen - Risking

Chapter Fourteen - Storing

Chapter Fifteen - Realising

Act Two - Revolutions

Chapter Sixteen - Adjusting

Chapter Seventeen - Talking

Chapter Eighteen - Noticing

Chapter Nineteen - Conversing

Chapter Twenty - Hostage Taking

Chapter Twenty One - Photographing

Chapter Twenty Two - Looking

Chapter Twenty Three - Briefing

Chapter Twenty Four - Conspiring

Chapter Twenty Five - Beginning

Chapter Twenty Six - Listening

Chapter Twenty Seven - Playing

Chapter Twenty Eight - Mirroring

Chapter Twenty Nine - Planning

Act Three - Reaping

Chapter Thirty - Drinking

Chapter Thirty One - Conferring

Chapter Thirty Two - Bartering

Chapter Thirty Three - Skiving

Chapter Thirty Four- Hiding

Chapter Thirty Five - Staging

Chapter Thirty Six - Predicting

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @rookietrek @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon @alessiamargaux @rexit-mo @ladespedidas @wonderland2425 @niktwazny303 @the-dino-geek

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Moved On (Andy Barber x Wife!Reader)

A/N: Thanks for this request! I attempted an Andy Barber fic once but tbh I wasn’t happy with it and deleted so thank you for sending this one in so I could have another shot. <3 This fic takes place three years after the series. A few things deviate from the book/television series, but I you like this, anon.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Wife Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, Laurie Barber.

Length: 2.4k words

Andy crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the granite kitchen island as he watches you in pure adoration while you go about setting the table for dinner. He knows that he should probably be helping you out, but he simply can’t help himself as he stands there and stares at you in complete and utter awe—he never would have believed that this was the life he would be living. Sometimes he can’t believe this is the life he’s living, even after all this time. It often feels like a dream, a blissful dream he's afraid that one day he’ll wake up from.

If someone would have told Andy three and half years ago that one day he would be remarried to the love of his life, expecting his second child, and that his teenaged son would be healed, healthy, and happy, he would have scoffed right in their damn face. After everything that had happened—the murder trial, the near fatal car crash, and Laurie being put behind bars for nearly killing herself and their son, Andy could have sworn that his life was over. Laurie had been put in the psychiatric unit of a women’s correctional facility to serve her four and a half year prison sentence and shortly after that, Jacob had come out of his medically induced coma with an incredibly long and painful road to recovery ahead of him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, Jacob had been wounded so deeply by everything that had happened and Andy feared he wouldn’t be able to be the strength his son needed to go on. He’d been left all on his own to pick up the shattered, jagged pieces of the world he once knew, with no idea of how to even start putting them back together again.

But then you happened.

Andy never saw this coming—never saw you coming.

When he first met you, from the first hello you two exchanged, Andy couldn’t have possibly imagined that you would end up being exactly what he and his son needed.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You tease, smiling over your shoulder at him.

“Sorry, honey.” Andy chuckles and shakes his head, uncrossing his arms as he pushes himself away from the kitchen island. “What can I help you out with?”

“Can you pull out the salad from the fridge and bring it over to the table?”

He quickly nods and does as you request, bringing over the bowl of salad that you’d chopped up earlier to the table. He sets it in the middle of the table before taking his seat at the head of the table. “Where’s Jake? Let’s get him down here, I’m starving.”

“Jacob!” You call out loudly. “Dinner’s ready! Let’s go, shut off that video game!”

Andy frowns. “Video game? Isn’t he supposed to be studying?”

“It’s Friday, so I let the kid live a little.” You wink at your husband as you take a seat beside him and drape a clean white cloth napkin across your lap. “And besides, he’s been doing really well in his classes. His counselor e-mailed me the other day. Jake’s grades have never been better.”

“He has a good influence.” Andy reaches over and places his hand over yours.

At that moment, your seventeen year old stepson comes down the stairs and takes a seat across from you. He has a white envelop clutched in one of his hands.

“What do you have there, bud?” Andy questions suspiciously as soon as he sees it. He raises an eyebrow at his son. “You’re not in any trouble, are you?”

Jacob doesn’t reply, and instead, he simply shoots you a nervous glance.

“Go on,” You encourage him, grinning excitedly. “Tell him, Jake.”

Andy glances between the two of you, confused. “Tell me what? What’s going on?”

“It’s an acceptance letter,” Jacob informs him, handing it over. “My first one. It came in the mail earlier today.” He shoots his father a sheepish look. “I was going to wait for all three of us to be together to open it, but I couldn’t wait and neither could she,” he explains, tossing you a quick smile. “We figured we’d just tell you over dinner.”

Andy opens it and he beams with pride as his blue eyes glaze over the document in his hand. “Northeastern University?”

Jake nods. “I’m going to e-mail the school and commit first thing on Monday for the upcoming semester.”

Andy’s smile fades ever so slightly. “Commit? Already? Are you sure this is where you want to go? You’re still waiting on other letters, Jacob. Isn’t it a little too soon to make the commitment?” he asks, setting the letter down. “You still have a couple of months left in the school year. Don’t you want to wait?”

“Not really. This school is the closest to home, dad. I don’t want to move somewhere too far for college, especially since I want to be close enough come and see my little sister after she’s born.” Jacob turns from his father and his eyes meet yours. “I want to be a part of her life as much as possible. I can’t do that if I ship myself off too far for school.”

You place a hand on your growing baby bump. “He’s got a point, Andy.”

“Well, if that’s your decision, than you have our full support.” Andy puts a hand on Jacob’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “I’m so proud of you, Jake. We both are. We know you’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

“Thanks, dad.”

After dinner, Jacob excuses himself from the table to watch television—normally he’s the one to help you clear the table and clean up, but Andy decides to give him a pass for the night and volunteers to help you himself. You’re in the kitchen tossing scraps into the silver, stainless steel trash can when Andy walks in, takes the plate from your hand and sets it down on the counter. He then grabs you and takes you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss that sends chills up and down the length of your spine. As his hands start to wander, you break away from him ever so slightly, resting your hand gently on his chest.

“Mm, someone’s feeling extra affectionate today,” You murmur against his lips.

“I’m just really happy, is all. Ridiculously, deliriously happy.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Andy moves his mouth to your neck and starts to trail his way down to your chest.

You laugh, lightly pushing him away. “Let’s finish cleaning up first, lover boy,” You tell him, eliciting an impatient groan from him. “I cleared off the dishes for you, can you just load them into the washer for me?”

“Fine.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “But wait until I get my hands on you later tonight. I had dinner, now I want my dessert,” he smirks at you. “My sweet tooth is aching for you.”

“Jesus, Andy! Jake is in the room next door! Save it for the bedroom,” You remind him, blushing as your attention turn back to the trash can. You grab at the bag, tying together securely before pulling it out of the component. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to go take this outside.”

Andy shakes his head and reaches out. “Sweetheart, let me do that for you—”

“Andy, I’m pregnant, not wounded. I’m perfectly capable of taking out the trash,” You tell him, shooting him a look. “I’ll be right back.” You make your way through the house and out the front door, stepping out into the chilly, evening air. You walk down the long driveway towards the black garbage can, lift the lid open and quickly toss the bag inside, letting the lid slam shut. As you turn and begin to walk back up to the house, you stop when you get the sudden feeling that you’re being watched by somebody. Furrowing your eyebrows, you slowly turn on your heel and let out a gasp when you see her standing there right beside Andy’s Audi.

Laurie Barber.

You and Andy have been hearing faint whispers around town about Laurie’s possible early release due to her improvement and good behavior. After the car crash, Laurie and her defense lawyers had taken a plea deal from the prosecution in order to avoid having to go to trial. While her sentence may have been light considering the serious nature of what she had done, the mandated court order to stay away from Andy and Jacob had been much harsher. She was not allowed to come into contact with either of them after her release or it would violate the terms of her probation. And yet, here she is, standing right in front of you, outside of your family’s home.

You stand there, frozen solid on the spot, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Laurie stares at you, her eyes falling to your swollen midsection.

Instinctively, your hand goes to your stomach.

Her eyes flicker to the diamond ring on your finger. “You must be his new wife,” she says, rigidly. “I heard he remarried. But I didn’t know he was having another baby.”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and you clamp it shut.

Unsure of what else to do, you give a small nod of your head.

“I’d heard the rumors that he’d completely moved on,” Laurie says. Despite the stiff, and cold tone of her voice, you can see that her eyes are brimming with tears. “Part of me refused to believe that he could forget about the life we had together, just like that. That he could move on so quickly.”

“Laurie, you shouldn’t be here,” You finally manage to say. “You need to leave.”

“How’s Jacob?”

“Laurie, please, you need to leave right now before Andy sees you—”

She ignores you, firmly repeating, “How is Jacob?”

You let out a small sigh, feeling conflicted.

One on hand, you can’t stand the woman for what she had done. But then, on the other, you can see the remorse in her eyes and you know that she’s desperate to hear about her son. “He’s doing great, Laurie,” You tell her. “Jake is thriving. He’s doing well in school, he’s been accepted into a good university. And most importantly, he’s healthy and he’s happy.”

“I need to see him.”

“You can’t. The judge ordered you to stay away from him.”

Laurie steps forward and grabs your arms. “Please! I need to see Jacob—”

“Get your fucking hands off my wife!” Andy’s growl comes from behind you, startling both you and Laurie. He snatches you out of her grasp and pushes you behind him, his broad shoulders squaring protectively. He speaks again, his tone venomous as he faces his ex-wife for the first time in over three years. “What the fuck are you doing here, Laurie?”

She lifts her chin, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m here because I want to see my son.”

“After you tried to fucking kill him?” He nearly shouts. “Are you fucking insane?”

“I made a mistake, Andy! I wasn’t in the right frame of mind! After everything, after the trial, everything was just falling apart and I couldn’t take it!” Laurie shouts back at him. “It was a fucking terrible mistake!”

“A mistake that nearly cost our son his life!”

You step beside your husband and place a hand on his chest. “Andy, please! You need to calm down before Jacob overhears and comes outside.” You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. You can see the anger, the pain, all of his emotions swimming in them and your opposite hand slips into his, lacing your fingers together. You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please, just calm down.”

Andy nods in agreement and takes a deep breath before turning back to Laurie. “I don’t know where you got the nerve to show up at my door,” he says. He’s certainly calmer than before, but there’s still an angry edge to his tone. “How you can even show your face around here after what you did is beyond me.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurie whispered. “For everything. Andy, from the bottom of my heart, I’m so fucking sorry. You have to believe me, I wasn’t in a good place. Mentally, or emotionally.” At this point, the tears were now streaming down her face. “I love my son, and I live with the guilt and the shame of what I did every damn second of every damn day. I never meant for any of it to happen, Andy. You have to believe me. I love Jacob.”

Her apology doesn’t faze Andy, but it fazes you.

Perhaps it’s the pregnancy hormones that have you on the sensitive side. But you just can’t help but to feel some sympathy for Laurie Barber.

“Please. I just want to see my son. I want to tell him I’m sorry. At least let me do that,” she pleads. “Let me apologize to him, face to face.”

Andy is about to protest when you place a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Let us talk to Jacob, first. And if he decides he is up to seeing you, then we can contact our attorney. They can speak to the judge and perhaps we can arrange something if he allows it.” You glance between Andy and Laurie. “It’s a decision that Jake should make. And everyone will respect his choice as well as the choice of the judge. Can we all agree on that?”

“Okay. I can agree to that.” Laurie nods. “Andy? Do you agree?”

His lips press into a tight, thin line. “You’re lucky my wife is here to be the voice of reason. Because if it were up to me, you’d never fucking see him again. Not a fucking chance. Now leave my property before I call your probation officer.” He grabs your hand and starts pulling you towards the house. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”

“Wait!” Laurie reaches for your opposite hand, holding you back.

Andy’s nostrils flare. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

She ignores him, her desperate eyes meeting yours. “If Jake decides that he wants nothing to do with me, can you just do me a favor?”

You nod slowly.

“Look after him for me, please. From a mother to a mother. Please, just look after my boy for me.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing all along, Laurie,” You tell her in a low voice. Before you can stop yourself, it slips out, “I’ve been the mother he’s needed for the last three years.”

Laurie releases you, feeling stung by your words.

“Let’s go,” Andy says firmly, pulling you towards the house.

Pretending You Can't

Pairing: Adam Karadec x fem!cop(analyst)!reader

Summary: You're touch starved and wishing to make friends in the LAPD, but you move divisions so often that it becomes difficult. While working with the Major Crimes unit, you find a solution to both problems.

Warnings: depiction of touch starvation, discussion of difficulty making friends, murder case, fluff, comfort, OOC Karadec

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I love Karadec so much. Hope someone can enjoy this.🫶🏼

“Melon alert,” someone whispers as they rush past you.

You roll your eyes and turn to the next page of your report. Lieutenant Melon is annoying, but he has yet to request your direct assistance. That is one of the few benefits of being quiet and reserved in a Los Angeles Police station. It is, however, far outweighed by the downfalls. You’re lonely, and you want to make friends at work, even though you are quiet. Each time you meet someone you think could be a friend, you get moved to a new desk or a new division and have to start all over. Maybe, you think, I’m just not made to have friends.

You stand and stretch your arms over your head. The report on your desk must be signed by Melon, but he’s busy, so you walk down the hall to stretch your legs and get something from the break room.

“Sorry,” you apologize as your shoulder hits someone backing out of the elevator. It feels like the skin on your shoulder is on fire, and pain like pins and needles travels down your arm. This would have been a good indicator something was wrong if you hadn’t already known you were touch-starved. Shaking your arm, you see the large box in his arms and ask, “Do you need help with that?”

“Please,” he answers.

You slide your hands under the side opposite him, and he lowers it to rest between your chests.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Detective Osman, right?”

He nods and somehow knows your name, too. You look around briefly as he leads you through the door into Major Crimes. This is one area you have not worked in, but you think you’d like it. The people in this division are kind when you see them in the station, and they do good work. Your gaze hits Detective Karadec, and you look away quickly, telling yourself it’s because you need to watch where you’re going.

“It’s too much,” he says, his shoulders moving up in a short shrug as he nods. Something about his body language disarms many people, but every time you see him, you’re drawn in by him.

Lieutenant Soto exits her office, pinching the bridge of her nose. Detective Osman sighs as he looks at her, then thanks you quietly. You smile and nod, then walk toward the door. Before you reach it, Soto calls your name. Turning slowly, you raise your brows and hold your hands against your stomach.

“Yes, ma’am?” you answer.

“You worked in the gang unit last year, correct?” she inquires.

“Yes, but only for a few months in the spring.”

“Are you familiar with the name…” she pauses to look at a sticky note in her hand, then says, “Victor Kwang?”

Nodding, you explain, “I did the paperwork for his arrest warrant, the affidavit, I mean, and some research into his accomplices and manufacturing.”

“Did you find the factory in Westlake?” a woman in a cheetah-print skirt asks.

“Excuse her,” Karadec interjects as he spins his chair to face you. “This is Morgan Gillory.”

You’ve heard about Morgan, or as Melon calls her, the cleaning lady, but if she already found Kwang’s Westlake factory, she’s better than you thought.

“I did,” you tell her. “It wasn’t operational at the time, but it was searched. Turned up practically nothing.”

“Okay,” Morgan drawls slowly. “It’s not in the report.”

Karadec watches how your brows pinch, and your eyes shift like you’re thinking.

“There’s another report,” he guesses.

“I only worked on one.”

He nods once before spinning his chair to use the computer. Opening the report they’re going on, he scrolls to the bottom of the first page to see who completed the report.

“It wasn’t this one,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Detective Daphne Forrester.

She raises her hands and says, “It’s the only one that came up when I typed in Victor Kwang.”

You focus on your memory of completing the report and ask Daphne, “Are most of his arrests for assault?”

“90%,” she replies.

“Wrong Victor Kwang,” you say. “When that case was open, there was a lot of.. discontent, I guess, in Koreatown. The DA said they had every right to be treated exactly the same here as in Korea.”

Karadec scoffs and shakes his head. You agree; it didn’t make sense, but you complied.

“So?” Osman asks.

“His arrest record and the reports from that investigation have his Korean name on it. Kwang Kyu. Surname first, given name, and everything we have on him is in that file.”

Soto raises her brows at Karadec, unseen by you. He looks between you and his lieutenant, then to Morgan.

“Who are you reporting to now?” Soto asks you.

“Lieutenant Melon,” you reply. Quieter, you add, “Technically.”

“I think it’s time for a change,” she muses before returning to her office.

“Did you do this whole report?” Daphne asks, looking up from her computer. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you answer softly. Without Soto as a buffer and the contained topic of police work, you’re unsure how to talk to the detectives you’ve looked up to for so long.

Soto returns from her office and smiles as she instructs, “Pack up. You’re coming to Major Crimes.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Oz asks.

Soto looks away from the door that just closed behind you and levels her gaze on Karadec.

“I think she can help,” he states. “Morgan didn’t catch that the report was for the wrong guy.”

“You didn’t either,” she argues.

“Where does she usually work?” Daphne wonders aloud. “I see her around from time to time, but never in the same place twice.”

“She jumps around,” Soto explains.

“Why?” Oz adds. “Hard to work with? Trying to find where to use a golden ticket?”

“She’s good,” Karadec answers. “She can do close to everything. Chief decided to pass around the talent.”

“And how do you know that?” Soto challenges, her brows raised knowingly.

He looks at her from the corner of his eyes, then shakes his head.

“If Kwang opened a factory in Westlake, he probably did it to get away from the suspicions about what he was doing in Koreatown,” Morgan muses. “His factories form a parallelogram with an overlaid pyramid. When you look at those on a map, they center around one place.”

“Being?” Karadec presses, sounding more tired than he had with you.

She moves closer to the caseboard and examines the map briefly. “Hotel Normandie.”

“Koreatown?” Daphne clarifies.

“Yep. 605 Normandie Avenue.”

“And what is that supposed to tell us?” Karadec sighs.

“I…” Morgan purses her lips to trace her nail along the map.

“You’re missing another shape,” you point out as you return with a small tote bag of your things.

Soto’s eyes widen, and she presses her lips together to hide her smile. You’ve been here for less than five minutes, and you’re providing information Morgan can’t. They all know it’s because of how long you spent studying Victor Kwang, but it’s still interesting to see.

“Hotel Normandie is one of Kwang’s favorite spots. It’s less than thirty minutes from the Hollywood Bowl, Griffith Observatory, LA County Museum of Art, Natural History Museum, and Dodger Stadium. That’s a-“

“Pentagram,” Morgan finishes. “He could get around to all of them and back to the hotel in 2 hours without traffic.”

“Add Forest Lawn,” you add, setting your bag on an empty chair. “And you’ve got a hexagon.”

Karadec stands at the word hexagon, and you wonder what they’re working on.

“DB was called in this morning,” he tells you as he slides his cell phone and a bottle of hand sanitizer into his pocket. “It was found at the corner of Wilshire and Crenshaw. There was a note in the vic’s pocket with the name Victor Kwang written repeatedly. The note was folded into a hexagon.”

“And that intersection is in Kwang’s criminal hexagon,” Morgan adds.

“The victim had his visa,” Daphne says as if she’s reading your mind to answer your questions. “ID’ed him as Chang Shirong. Came in from China four months ago, so he likely would have been traveling back within the next few weeks.”

“Six months. He had a B-1 visa?” you realize incredulously. “What business activities was he conducting?”

“I’ve got that,” Oz interjects, holding an open file. “He had a relatively legitimate clothing business and was negotiating contracts with Lids and Fanatics.”

“How long ago did he get approved for the visa?” Morgan asks.

“Five years ago,” Daphne answers.

You fall silent and listen, happy to stay here and complete their paperwork while they go out in the field and put Kwang back in jail. Provided that he’s found guilty, of course.

“When was Kwang released after the sweatshop factory fiasco?” Karadec asks, though his gaze strays to you.

“Five-and-a-half years ago,” Oz reads. “Could have easily gotten in with Chang to move operations overseas.”

“The Government Accountability Office would’ve had Kwang on a short leash,” Soto states. “If Kwang broke that kind of labor law, he wouldn’t have been able to conduct business of any type, not for a while at least.”

“Not necessarily,” Morgan counters, raising her finger.

“Here we go,” Karadec murmurs, holding his fist against his chin.

“AB633 holds California garment manufacturers responsible for sweatshop conditions. It ensures workers are paid minimum wage and overtime. Because of that, the Labor Commissioner can bring lawsuits on behalf of the whole workforce to guarantee wages and – this is the important part – revoke the registration of the manufacturer that fails to pay a wage award. They up new registration fees, but can't legally keep someone from reopening a business based only on wage crimes.”

“Sounds like you need to look into the sweatshops,” Soto says before telling everyone where to go.

You pull a chair to Daphne’s desk to help her trace Kwang since his release from prison, and she smiles as she whispers, “Teach me your ways.”

You send her a small smile and immediately decide that you want to be friends with Daphne Forrester. The longer you sit beside her and across from Oz, the easier it is to open up and offer your ideas and theories.

“Oz,” Morgan calls as she returns a few hours after leaving. “Karadec needs you to throw a phone book at someone.”

“We still don’t do that,” he replies as he exits the office.

“What are we working on?” Morgan asks as she takes Oz’s chair.

“We found Kwang’s quote ‘professional’ activities since leaving prison,” Daphne explains.

“Any theories?”

“I don’t have any.” Daphne gestures toward you as she adds, “This one has some great ones.”

“Lay ‘em on me,” Morgan requests. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“You must be a very good mom,” you murmur.

“I have a teenager,” she says, “I know the signs of someone not wanting to talk to me. I also notice when someone’s eyes wander to a certain detective.”

“Karadec?!” Daphne exclaims, tapping her hand against your arm and igniting invisible flames beneath your sleeve.

You drop your head and wring your fingers together. “I think Kwang met someone in prison who could set him up with an overseas businessman. Your victim flew in on a visitor’s visa a week before Kwang was released and stayed for nearly two months. If they met then, Chang had a reason to get a business visa and make regular trips to visit his business partner.”

“Any idea who could’ve known both of them?” Morgan wonders.

“That’s where we found the hiccup,” Daphne answers.

You have an idea, but it doesn’t make sense, so you stay quiet. Morgan and Daphne look at you, then at each other. Morgan nods before she stands.

“You’re coming to my house for dinner,” she says. “It wasn’t an invitation or a question, you’re coming. Let’s go.”

Daphne nods and tells you to have a good night, so you follow Morgan out of the station. While you walk into the parking lot, she slows and looks toward you.

“You like Karadec,” she begins. “When you’re not incredibly focused, your eyes stray to him. It happens when you’re not confident in your statements, too.”

“I- he-“ you try before deciding to say, “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. I notice a lot, and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Maybe you should try to just talk to him tomorrow, share one of those good ideas you kept to yourself today.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Morgan smiles. “If it gets Karadec to smile, I’ll relinquish my duty to you for a day.”

“Why would that make him smile?”

“You can figure that out, detective.”

Morgan begins walking again, and as she opens her car door, you call, “I’m not a detective!”

The following morning, you enter the station early with a mental list of names and information to look into. Walking into Major Crimes, you’re not entirely surprised to see Karadec already at his desk.

“You’re early,” he muses. “You can use Oz’s desk.”

“Thanks.” You lower into Oz’s seat and use your station login to access the police database.

“Help yourself,” he offers, gesturing to a donut box.

You smile and take one of your favorites. If you had to guess, you never would have assumed that Karadec was the one who brought the donuts every week. Maybe they take turns, you think.

As you work quietly beside Karadec, you run through each idea you have. Each search that fails to provide a helpful result discourages you more than the last.

“Pass me the Kwang file?” Karadec requests.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes the extended file. He thanks you, but you don’t hear it as your nerves alight. You try to hide the pain in your hand as you place it back on the keyboard. Failing to remember the last time you were hugged or even simply touched in a way that lets you know someone cared about you, you force yourself to focus. Your hand curls into a fist as the pain subsides, and then you return to work.

With your focus on the lack of touch you’ve experienced recently, you don’t notice Karadec watching you. He’s known since before you joined their team that there is more to you than people think.

As the rest of Major Crimes begins arriving, you log out and pull a chair to the corner of Daphne’s desk to continue working with her. Karadec tries to focus, but when you are close, he finds it hard to do.

“Good morning,” Morgan greets, sitting beside you. She lowers her voice to remind you, “Talk to Karadec.”

“All of my ideas turned up nothing,” you explain softly.

“And?” Oz asks as he approaches the other side of Daphne’s desk.

“She likes Karadec,” Morgan replies.

Your eyes widen as you look over at her. Daphne stifles a laugh, and Oz shrugs as if that isn’t new information.

“Yeah, yeah,” Morgan murmurs. “Et tu, good report maker. Seriously, tell him something. You have more ideas; I can see it.”

“Any new theories?” Karadec asks, turning his seat to face Daphne’s crowded desk.

“I think the order of the hexagon was wrong,” you blurt out.

“Why would the order matter?” Oz inquires.

Karadec watches you, listening carefully. Morgan smiles and shakes her head knowingly before she winks at Daphne.

“If the route matters, then traffic, travel times, and when the places are actual targets changes.”

“Targets?” Karadec repeats.

“I assumed you were evaluating the places based on their proximity to his former sweatshops,” you explain. “So, he could use them as alibis, to recruit workers, or in this case, to lure Chang into his previous enterprise to undermine Chang’s business.”

“Like a sightseeing tour for bad guys,” Oz translates.

“Alternatively, they were on their way to one of these places and Chang dropped some news about taking a larger profit margin or something, Kwang was outraged and killed him.”

“In which case, he’d want to get another shop up and running ASAP,” Morgan comments.

“Let’s run with that theory,” Karadec decides. “We’ll split up and check the different points on the hexagon. Use Kwang’s previous warehouses for ideas about where he’d be holed up or operating a new factory.”

“Someone from Immigration is here with Chang’s visa information,” Soto says.

“I got it,” Oz offers. “Go find this guy.”

“I’ll go with Daphne,” Morgan announces.

“Okay,” Karadec agrees, standing. “Which direction do we go?”

“Hotel Normandie faces east,” you answer. “Most people turn right when leaving a building, so he’d be pretty likely to go South. The art museum would either be first or last because it’s west of the hotel.”

“We’ll take the southern locations starting with the Natural History Museum. Then we’ll hit Dodger Stadium and go around. Daphne and Morgan, go west to the art museum then north toward Griffith Observatory. Overlapping visits should double our chances.”

“Yeah, that’s not how percentage of chance works,” Morgan replies. “I’ll explain it later.”

“Oh, good,” Karadec deadpans.

“So…” Karadec begins as he drives toward the natural history museum. “What did you want to do when you joined the department?”

“At first, I didn’t know. Then I realized I wanted to become a detective,” you answer. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Never know. What made you decide?”

“A lot of detectives worth looking up to. Including you.”

You realize what you said and chew the inside of your bottom lip as you wait for Karadec to say something. Anything.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment. “Although you had better options.”

“I didn’t know Daphne yet,” you joke, pulling a rare smile from him. “Hey, slow down. That building should be condemned.”

Karadec slows as he steers the car onto the gravel shoulder. He watches the shadows moving in the covered windows and radios for backup.

“ETA two minutes,” dispatch replies.

“Uh, Karadec?” you interrupt.

“Yeah?”

“Door just opened.”

You watch Victor Kwang exit the warehouse in an expensive suit. He notices the car and then runs along the side of the building. You don’t hesitate to exit Karadec’s car and chase him, ignoring Karadec’s yells for you to wait.

As you round the western side of the warehouse, you speed up and push off your right foot to tackle Victor Kwang. He grunts as he lands in the dirt, and you pant through your recitation of his Miranda rights. Karadec approaches behind you and passes you a pair of handcuffs.

“Maybe we should let you carry those next time,” he says. “Is that your car, Mr. Kwang?”

“Lawyer,” Kwang replies as you turn him to make him sit up.

“In that case, I’ll go ahead and get it towed to the station in violation of California Vehicle Code 22500,” Karadec says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

You look at the car and smile. “Section f: A person shall not stop or park on a portion of a sidewalk.”

“It’s my sidewalk!” Kwang argues as sirens approach the front of the building.

“It’s the city’s sidewalk,” Karadec says. He takes your place and pulls Kwang’s arm to make him stand. “So, we’ll be searching your illegally parked car when it arrives at the station.”

After an officer takes Kwang, you take a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Karadec checks, laying his hand on your shoulder.

Your muscles tense, pulling into a tight knot before immediately releasing to be more relaxed than before Karadec touched you. He feels every movement and realizes by the movement that you are devastatingly touch-starved. Karadec does not like touching things or people, you’ve noticed, but you’re both acutely aware of how well his hand fits on you.

“I’m okay,” you answer quietly.

The moment ends abruptly when Karadec’s phone rings. He removes his hand from your shoulder to answer Daphne’s call, but his warmth lingers as you follow him back to the car.

After Kwang confesses to receive a plea deal and offers up the international crime matchmaker who introduced him to Chang, you return home. Your hand raises to your shoulder, where Karadec touched you. Now that the case is closed, you’ll likely be transferred out of Major Crimes again and lose the four people you think you could have been friends with. Again.

Someone knocks on your door, and you approach it quietly to look through the peephole. Sighing, you open the door and silently invite Karadec into your home.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. “Soto told me I could finish the reports in the morning.”

“No, that’s fine,” he replies, looking briefly around your living room before bending back slightly with his hands in his pockets. “I… I think I can help you.”

Your mouth opens, but you take a moment to find the right words. “Do you mean that the other way? Can I help you again?”

“No, no,” he answers with a smile. “Can I just show you?”

“Sure,” you say slowly.

Adam pulls his hands from his pockets as he steps toward you. You inhale quickly at his proximity, and when his hands raise, you hold your breath. Tensing your muscles as Karadec lays his hands on your waist, you swallow. His thumbs brush wide arcs between your ribs as your body relaxes at his touch.

“Oh,” you realize under your breath.

“You said you looked up to me as a detective. I admire you as a lot more than that.”

The initial pain of his touch fades, and you seem to melt beneath his hands. If you’re going to react like this, Karadec thinks, he may never take his hands off you.

“I thought you didn’t like touching things with germs,” you remember.

“Found an exception.”

Karadec smiles as you argue, “Soto won’t like that.”

One of his hands slides from your waist and catches your hand. You instinctively try to pull away because it hurts, but he holds you tighter, drops his smile, and whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod and shift your hands to interlace your fingers with his.

“If you want help with this,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “I’m here. But you tell me when to stop.”

“Why?” you inquire.

Karadec doesn’t answer, and you admit, “I have feelings for you. Like… feelings. I understand if that makes you feel different and you don’t want me close anymore.”

“Feelings?” he repeats, using the tone you used the second time. “Should it make me feel different?”

Your brows furrow and Karadec returns both hands to your waist.

“It doesn’t,” he assures you, dropping his hands.

“There’s hand sanitizer in my bag, behind you,” you offer.

“Soto sent me over to tell you she wants you in Major Crimes full-time,” Karadec interjects. “It’s up to you, though.”

“Would that… Do you care if I say yes?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“You’re not really helping me here.”

He nods in a small circular movement which tells you he doesn’t care about that. His smile, however, makes you smile.

“I have wanted to be a detective for a long time,” you muse.

“Anyone you’d be leaving behind in the other divisions?”

“Oh, yeah,” you answer sarcastically. “I’m just swimming in friends, hence the extreme touch starvation.”

“Give Soto your answer in the morning,” he requests. “I’ll see you there?”

“Of course.”

You watch Karadec leave, and when you wrap your arms around your waist, nothing happens. No pain, no pins or needles, just warmth and the memory of Karadec's touch.

When Karadec enters Major Crimes the morning after visiting you, you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Daph!” he calls. “Where is she?”

“Morgan?” she clarifies.

“She’s finishing paperwork,” Oz answers. “Transfer papers, I’d guess.”

“I need signatures,” Soto says, exiting her office.

“Beautiful,” Daphne whispers as she signs your completed report.

“Yes, it is,” Karadec agrees, though his eyes are up, watching you enter the office with a smile.

“Where’d the grumpy persona go?” you whisper as you place a donut box on your new desk.

“I’d guess wherever he left it last night,” Soto answers, looking between you.

Morgan enters, spouting theories about another case but stops when she sees you. “I told you! You just had to stop pretending you couldn’t do it.”

“Hey,” Daphne calls, pointing at you with a sprinkled donut. “No ‘will they, won’t they,’ okay? Do it or don’t, but I can’t watch my friends dance around each other.”

“We’re friends?” you repeat.

“Duh.”

“So…” Morgan begins. “Are you okay with a group hug or do you need some more time?”

You look at Karadec, who shrugs, and then you nod. As you’re wrapped in warmth and care by your new friends – and Karadec, who you hope can be more than a friend – you realize that you finally found where you belong, and you’re not pretending anymore. You can do this. You can do the job, the friendships, and the openness.

The Rookie Prank War!

Tim Bradford x Rookie!reader [PLATONIC] — Ongoing series: Like Father, like Rookie.

A/N: Okay, so, I may have had a mini writer’s block—but! Hopefully this lengthy oneshot makes up for it. 😭

Summary: You start a (mostly) harmless prank war with one of the other rookies. Tim doesn’t care—until you drag him into it. Now he’s torn between helping you win and making sure you don’t get fired.

Pranks weren’t technically against department policy.. but that didn’t mean Tim Bradford approved of them.

Tim Bradford didn’t play games.

He didn’t do pranks. He didn’t do childish antics.

He especially didn’t do rookie nonsense.

For the first two weeks of your ongoing prank war with Aaron, Tim had stayed blissfully uninvolved. Sure, he rolled his eyes when he caught wind of your antics, and yeah, he warned you at least three times that you were playing a “dangerous game.”

But he had other things to worry about, like actual police work and making sure you didn’t get yourself killed.

So long as you weren’t embarrassing him, he didn’t care.

Yet here he was.

Stuck in the middle of a full-blown prank war between his own rookie and Aaron Thorsen.

And it was entirely your fault.

It all started when you strolled into roll call one morning looking suspiciously innocent.

Tim, unfortunately, knew you well enough by now to recognize that nothing good ever came from that expression.

He barely glanced up from his clipboard before sighing.

“Kid.”

You blinked at him, wide-eyed, the very picture of fake innocence. “Yes, sir?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

Across the room, Lucy snorted, barely looking up from her coffee. “Because you always do something.”

Before you could fire back, the doors burst open like a dramatic courtroom scene.

Aaron stormed in, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust from sheer rage. His usually pristine uniform was slightly disheveled, his patrol belt slightly askew, as if he had been fighting for his life.

He pointed an accusing finger at the room.

“Okay, which one of you messed with my shop?!”

You barely bit back a grin. “What happened, Thorsen?”

Aaron glared, breathing deeply like a man trying to suppress a violent outburst.

“…Every time I hit the brakes,” he gritted out, “my car starts blasting ‘Barbie Girl.’”

Silence.

For a full three seconds, the briefing room held its breath.

Then—

Chaos.

Angela doubled over, wheezing, gripping the table for support. Meanwhile, Nyla had to physically turn away to wipe the tears forming in her eyes.

Lucy? Clapped.

She actually clapped.

Tim sighed loudly, rubbing his temples like he was regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

Aaron threw his hands up. “Do you think this is funny?!”

Angela barely choked out, “I—I just—” She gasped for air between cackles. “It fits your whole vibe, man.”

“My vibe?!”

Nyla, still wiping away laughter tears, nodded seriously. “Yeah. Rich kid turned cop? Total Ken energy.”

Lucy lost it at that. “Oh my god, Thorsen’s a Ken!”

The laughter doubled.

Even Grey—Grey, the literal sergeant who had the patience of a saint (and zero tolerance for rookie nonsense), tilted his head like he was mildly impressed before exhaling sharply, looking away like he was suppressing a smirk.

Aaron, however, looked seconds away from committing a felony.

Tim, watching all of this unfold, finally turned to you, exasperated.

“You’re lucky Grey isn’t in the mood to suspend anyone today,” he muttered.

You beamed, utterly unbothered. “That means I win this round, right?”

Aaron’s glare deepened.

“Oh, you’re so going down.”

And just like that—

The war escalated.

Tim just sighed deeply, wondering what debt he had left to pay that had led to him being responsible for you.

By the next day, you knew you were in trouble.

Aaron had resources.

Specifically? Money.

Which meant he had somehow managed to hire a professional prankster to help him.

You came back from patrol to find everything in your locker had been individually gift-wrapped.

Every. Single. Item.

Socks? Wrapped. Notebooks? Wrapped. Your taser? Wrapped, complete with a bow.

The squad was losing their minds.

Tim, walking past, barely spared it a glance. “That’s what you get, kid.”

You turned to him, desperate, your hands clasped together as if you were praying for a miracle, “Sir, I need your help.” you whined.

Tim scoffed, turning on his heel to face you with a stern look, one that screamed ‘I don’t have time to play around.’ “Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You leaned in. “Come on. You hate losing.” You argued.

“I’m not in the game.”

You cheekily smirked as if you were in on a joke that he had no knowledge of, “Not yet.” You cooed with a knowing look.

Tim eyed you warily, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You just grinned, giving him a firm pat on the back, “You’re already on my team, sir.” You exclaimed, already daydreaming of all the possibilities of how this prank war was going to end.

Tim frowned. Hard. “Kid, no, I’m not—”

“You gave me a direct order to win.” You said, raising a brow.

Tim blinked, staring. “I did not—”

“Ohhh, but you did.” You tapped your chin, feigning deep thought. “Just this morning, you said—what was it? Oh! ‘Don’t let him get away with that, kid.’”

Tim groaned, already regretting every decision that led to him being stuck with you. “That wasn’t—”

“Sounds like encouragement to me,” Lucy cut in as she walked by, smirking.

Angela who’d been watching this whole ordeal unfold with arms crossed, grinned like this was the most entertaining shit she’s seen all day, “Oh yeah. That’s definitely involvement.”

Wesley, who wasn’t even part of the department but just happened to be visiting Angela, sipped his coffee and muttered, “That would hold up in court.” Adding his very valuable two cents in.

The whole squad was watching now, entertained as hell.

Nyla leaned back in her chair, nodding like she was considering the argument, “You do hate losing, Tim.” Gaining a nod of agreement from Nolan who’d just come back from returning war bags.

Tim turned to her. “Not the point.”

“Sounds exactly like the point,” Nyla countered.

Tim exhaled sharply, looking toward Grey who was strolling past like maybe—just maybe—he’d be saved.

Grey just raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to stop walking, or taking the risk of hearing things he didn’t wanna hear, “I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t make my life harder.” He casually said, already disappearing into his office.

Tim groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine.” He pointed directly at you. “But if I help you, it’s only to make sure you don’t get fired.”

You beamed. “That’s a win in my book.”

Tim muttered something under his breath—probably regrets and prayers—but you didn’t care.

Because Tim Bradford was now on your side.

And that meant?

Aaron didn’t stand a chance.

The next morning, Aaron strolled into the locker room, yawning as he reached for his locker.

He unlatched it—

And immediately stumbled back as a dozen overstuffed balloons burst out, each one exploding mid-air and showering him in a relentless, ungodly amount of glitter.

It got everywhere.

His uniform. His hair. His soul.

Aaron froze, hands outstretched in horror as the last bits of glitter floated gently onto his already-ruined uniform.

The room?

Absolutely lost it.

Angela gasped, eyes wide. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Nyla leaned against the lockers, impressed. “Okay, I gotta ask—how did you even set that up?”

You shrugged, innocence personified. “Trade secret.”

Lucy wiped away actual tears. “It’s so evil.”

Wesley, who somehow kept getting roped into this nonsense, just sipped his coffee and muttered, “That’s a felony in some states.”

Tim, standing beside you, pinched the bridge of his nose like a man deeply regretting his life choices.

“Don’t get cocky, kid,” he muttered.

Aaron, still frozen, wiped a slow, agonized hand down his glitter-covered sleeve.

Then, very carefully, very deliberately, he turned his deadliest glare on you.

“You,” he said, voice deadly calm, “are so. Dead.”

You?

You just smiled.

Because this?

This was only the beginning.

From that point on, it was war.

Aaron, never one to back down from a challenge, retaliated by slipping red food coloring into your hand sanitiser.

You stared at your hands in horror—bright pink, you raised your hands in the air like you’d been caught in a crime scene. “What the fuck?!”

Aaron, smug as ever, gave a short laugh. “I thought it would be a nice touch.”

Tim, ever the reluctant mentor, simply sighed deeply from his desk. “Here,” he muttered, tossing a pack of tactical gloves your way. “Wear these until it fades.”

You, still sulking about getting caught up in Aaron’s prank, slipped the gloves on. “You’re the best, sir.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples like he was at peak regret already. “I regret everything,” he mumbled, half to himself.

But you weren’t done yet. Oh no, this was only getting started.

The next move? You reprogrammed Aaron’s entire shop GPS to only speak in Tim’s voice.

You watched with barely-contained glee as Aaron got into his shop, fully unaware of what awaited him.

It didn’t take long for the magic to happen.

A few miles into his patrol, Aaron pressed the GPS button.

The voice crackled to life, Tim’s voice, smooth as ever.

“In 500 feet, make a U-turn, rookie. And try not to embarrass yourself.”

The entire squad, who had been waiting outside, erupted.

Angela gasped, barely holding her coffee. “Oh my god,” she half-laughed, half-choked on her drink.

Nyla actually slapped her knee. “You are a genius.”

Grey, who normally maintained a wall of composure, actually snickered and cleared his throat, turning to Tim. “You sure you didn’t record those lines yourself?”

Tim was staring at you, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and something that could’ve been admiration.

“Kid.”

You beamed, leaning against the counter casually. “Yes, sir?”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he gestured vaguely toward the car. “Where the hell did you get a recording of my voice?”

You just grinned and leaned back, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “That’s a trade secret too.”

Aaron, furious, slammed the car door, his face flushed red, glaring at you through the windows. But you didn’t even flinch.

Because you knew…

You’d won again.

By the end of the week, Aaron was running out of ideas.

But you?

You were winning.

Each day, you upped the ante, pushing the limits of what could be considered acceptable behavior in the workplace.

You’d switched his shop keys for ones that didn’t fit. You’d swapped out his patrol jacket for one covered in pink rhinestones. You’d even clipped a “kick me” sign to his back when he wasn’t looking.

Aaron’s frustration was at an all-time high, but you were still going strong.

Unfortunately, Tim?

He was growing more and more exasperated.

“If you get fired,” he muttered as you and Aaron stared each other down across the room, “I’m not writing your recommendation letter.”

You grinned, unphased. “I would never get fired, sir.”

Tim glared. “You put silly string in Aaron’s patrol air vents.”

You paused, looking innocently at him. “…Okay, fair, but—”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “I helped you. I am complicit.”

You grinned wider. “That means you’re an accessory.”

Tim groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I hate you.”

Angela, who had been watching this whole thing unfold with an amused smirk, chimed in. “No, you don’t.”

Tim turned to her, exasperated beyond belief. “They’re worse than Lucy.”

Lucy, who had been silently enjoying the drama from her corner, gasped in mock outrage. “Hey!”

Tim pointed directly at you, almost accusingly. “This is your fault. You encouraged them.”

Lucy just grinned that mischievous grin she always wore when chaos was afoot. “I am so proud.”

You raised an eyebrow. “See? Lucy gets it.”

Tim rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead as though he were moments away from walking out the door and never looking back.

“I really regret this,” Tim muttered under his breath.

But no one was listening—because you were too busy preparing your next move.

The prank war had reached its peak.

Aaron was tired. You were unstoppable.

But it wasn’t until Grey finally had enough that everything came to a grinding halt.

“If I see one more prank,” Grey called out from his office, voice like a thunderclap that cut through the chatter, “you’re all pulling double shifts.”

The squad froze.

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over everyone. No one dared to speak. You glanced at Aaron, who shot you a murderous look, but both of you knew—this was it.

The war was over.

You stood up, offering your hand to Aaron with all the grace of a seasoned negotiator.

“Truce?”

Aaron sighed, rubbing his temples as though trying to physically push the frustration out of his head. But then, after a beat, he reluctantly extended his hand.

“Truce.”

And just like that, the tension dissolved.

But not without Tim watching from the sidelines, his expression ageing five years in a matter of seconds. You could practically hear him thinking, What did I get myself into?

The squad, still thoroughly entertained by the spectacle of the entire week, immediately pulled out their phones and gathered together in front of Aaron’s locker, now completely covered in glitter, to take a group picture.

Angela, still laughing, wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “This is definitely going on the wall in the break room.”

Nyla, wiping tears from her eyes, nodded. “I’ll print out a copy, frame it, and put it next to Grey’s desk. For posterity.”

Grey, who had been leaning against the doorframe, gave a low grunt of disapproval but didn’t stop them. “You’re all ridiculous.”

But even he couldn’t help but smirk.

And Tim?

Tim stood a little farther away, arms crossed and looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was trying to hide the fact that, despite everything—the pranks, the chaos, the countless headaches—he was proud.

He refused to admit it, of course. Not in front of anyone.

But watching you outsmart Aaron every step of the way? Watching you win in ways he never thought possible?

Yeah.

He was definitely proud.

taglist: @its-ares @nevereclipse @chezze-its @mcckunty

Pull This Move

0.8k+ words of chaotic Tim Bradford fluff

A/N: Have you guys seen the "when he's copying your snaps so you pull this move" thing? I saw a drawing of it with the Batboys and then this happened.

“Tim never keeps his ringer on,” Lucy muses after your phone buzzes again. “Is that a cop-to-cop thing?”

“Yeah, some people have problems with it, others don’t mind,” you explain. “I usually have mine silenced, I just forgot.”

“Do you know why Tim is off today?”

“Just needed a break,” you explain. “Have to have to a balance in a job like this.”

“And Snapchat gives you that balance?” Lucy teases as your phone chimes with an incoming photo. 

“If it’s from who I think it is, maybe,” you answer cryptically. 

“Who do you think it is?!” she inquires loudly. 

“Hold that thought, we’ve got a reckless driver ahead.”

During your lunch break, you open the new Snapchat and roll your eyes. 

“So,” Lucy says as she sits beside you. “Who is it? New boyfriend? Potential boyfriend?”

“Let’s go with really good friend,” you reply. “Who doesn’t know how to use the app and just copies my snaps.”

“Cute!!”

You hum, then think of the snap you wish to get. So, you open the app and move the phone to one side to capture your flexed bicep. Lucy gasps as you lock the screen, and you furrow your brows at her. 

“What?” you ask. 

“It is a guy! Why else would you flex to have them copy it? Tell me everything!”

“New rule, when I’m substituting as your TO, you have to talk to me like Tim.”

Lucy sighs and raises her hands in surrender when your phone chimes again. Yet, after you unlock it, she snatches your phone out of your hand. 

“Lucy!” you yell as she stands. “No, stop- listen. I will blue page you, Chen!”

Lucy freezes. Half-standing with your arm extended over the table, you exhale. 

“Give it back and I’ll- I’ll let you see the picture. That’s it, and you have to learn to respect boundaries.”

“Will you tell Tim?” she asks, blocking your phone with her free hand. 

“Not if you listen.”

Lucy nods and passes your phone back with a quiet apology. You sit, and Lucy pulls her chair beside yours. You click the red square in the app and lift a brow appreciatively at the muscled arm on the screen. There is a familiar gray shirt stretched tightly around the flexed bicep, and you hold the screen for several seconds to prolong your enjoyment of the picture. 

“There,” you say, shifting your hips to slide your phone into your pocket. “Happy, Chen?”

Lucy doesn’t answer, and you turn toward her. Her jaw drops as she stares at you. 

“What?”

“Was that Tim?” she asks. 

“Why would you think that?” you say rather than answering. 

“He wears a lot of gray shirts, and you… I don’t know how to say this without getting in trouble again.”

You cross your arms below your powered-off body cam and lean back in your seat. “Speak freely, Lucy.”

“Everyone knows you have a crush on him,” she blurts out. 

“So, a gray shirt and a workplace crush lead you to believe that Tim - officer stoic and serious - would send me a Snapchat?” you challenge. 

“Well when you put it like that,” Lucy mumbles, “it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’ll give you something if you give me something,” you offer. “I need some dirt on Lopez. Help me get that, and I’ll tell you something.”

“Done,” Lucy agrees. Then, she asks, “Wait, why? What’d she do?”

“No questions. Agree or don’t,” you reply. Lucy nods, and you say, “I’m going on a date with the guy in the picture tonight. We’ve been dating for a while.”

“Will you tell me more later? If things work out and I get something on Angela?”

You stand to return to the shop and say, “We’ll see.”

Walking into your house after your shift ends, you sigh. 

“Did you actually help my boot today or just send Snapchats?” someone asks from the kitchen.

Laughing, you enter the room and lean your forehead between your boyfriend’s shoulder blades. 

“Lucy saw the picture,” you say. “It was a really good picture, though.”

“How?” he asks, holding your arm as he turns toward you. 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t tell her much, and she’s helping with our Angela problem.”

“Your Angela problem,” Tim corrects. 

“Which will become our Angela problem when she finds out that my fiancé and my least favorite sergeant are the same man,” you point out. 

“Shouldn’t have told her you were engaged.”

“I didn’t!” 

Tim chuckles, so you sigh and fall against his chest. 

“It’ll be fine,” he assures you. 

“As long as you keep showing those Bradford biceps,” you grumble against his chest. 

“Hey,” Tim begins carefully. 

You pull back and narrow your eyes at him. 

“If Angela already has an idea, and Wade knows… maybe we should ask them to help,” he suggests. 

“You want Wade and Angela to be our witnesses?” you clarify. After a moment, you concede, “It could work. She’d keep it a secret if we let her come to the wedding.”

“Not what most people think about when they’re wedding planning.”

You smile and kiss Tim, thankful that your relationship is anything but average. Most people don’t have Tim Bradford going down the aisle with them, you think.

Till Death Do Us Part masterlist

I wanted to use the “flustered Bisexual mess(Faelyn)/absolutely knows and shows no mercy(Walter, Viktoria, Lucy)” trope along with the “shy smol/flirty tall” and also “you won’t like me when I’m angry/oh god they are hot when they go feral”

TEASER

Cast

Prologue

DNA is a Bitch

The butler’s a dick but the Lord can dick me down

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

Taglist:

@mrs-fanfiction-2001

@bunnyboo12

@yor72

@weepingwitchofthewest

@stabmemaybe

@frozenhuntress67

All The Reasons We Can't

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (Lucy's roommate)

Summary: When you move in with Lucy Chen, you don't expect to fall for her ex-boyfriend.

Warnings: unspecified age gap (r is younger than Lucy), angst, fluff, spoilers for s6! (it's canon-divergent but still has spoilers)

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

A/N: If you are looking for a happy ending for Lucy and Tim, this is not the fic for you lol.😆

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Lucy!” you call, waving from your seat in the back of the restaurant.

She rushes to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming,” she whispers into your embrace. “I needed this.”

“You’re my best friend, Lucy, I’ll always be here for you.”

Lucy nods as she releases you. You take the seat beside her rather than across from her. She’s dealing with a lot, and you know that she needs a friend right now.

“So, how long are you staying in town this time?” Lucy asks as she picks up the menu.

“Uh, about that,” you begin slowly. “I was thinking I’d just stay this time. You’re here, a lot of other things I love are here, and I just- I think it’s time to stay in LA for good.”

“You’re moving?” Lucy exclaims. “Please don’t be kidding, I can’t take that right now, girl.”

“I’m serious,” you promise her. “I’ve been looking for a new job and a place. Lucy, I want to be close to you; I need you in my life all the time, too.”

“It’s been too long,” Lucy agrees as she takes your hand. “I do have an idea though.”

You hum, inviting her to share, and her smile grows.

“Why don’t you move in with me? Tamara moved out, so I have the room. Even if it’s just temporary until you find your own space, I’d love to be roommates.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of change, Luce, and I don’t want to get in the way of you processing everything.”

“I’m really sure.”

“Then, yeah, I’d love that, Lucy.”

Lucy squeals, drawing the attention of an older couple sitting across from you. You wave awkwardly before they look away, then laugh with Lucy. Moving in with her sounds perfect and being right there for each other is part of why you decided to move.

“Hello,” you greet when Lucy returns from work. “Dinner is in the oven.”

“You’re the best friend ever,” Lucy sighs. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Wasting time until we met online mostly,” you answer. “How was today?”

“It was- uh, it was better. Tim and I still have a lot of work to do, mostly on ourselves. We’re going to try to be friends, though, because there’s no way either of us could ever just go back.”

“I get that. Being friends will be good for you, Lucy, even if it’s hard. Especially since you have to see him every day.”

“Yeah, it’s just still hard. Really hard sometimes, to wake up and remember he’s not there.”

You pull Lucy into a hug, which she gladly accepts. The oven timer dings, and you release her with a smile and an apology to finish preparing dinner.

“What would make it better?” you ask. “I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

“Honestly, I know I’m not ready to get out there yet, but I think seeing Tim with someone else – even just platonically – could help. He deserves it, too. For everything that he did and didn’t do, he’s a great guy, and he needs a friend or two that he can be himself with. Or does that sound selfish, like I’m trying to push him away to forget?”

“It doesn’t sound selfish at all, Lucy. You want the best for him, and if he’s trying to be friends, it seems like he wants that for you, too.”

“Yeah.” Lucy taps her fingers on the counter.

“I’ll get you a sign for the door,” you joke, trying to make her smile. “Lucy Chen, Platonic Matchmaker.”

It works, and Lucy smiles as you slide two plates onto the counter. She’s your best friend, and if she thinks Tim Bradford needs a friend (even after breaking her heart), then you trust she’s right.

“Hi,” Tim greets softly when the elevator opens.

Lucy nods once in greeting as she steps inside. “Good morning.”

Tim presses his lips together in the awkward silence. He knows he made the right choice by letting her go to get the better things she deserves, but it doesn’t make this part easier. “Big plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” Lucy replies. “My roommate is making me dinner tomorrow night and we’re just going to hang out, I think. Tamara and some other friends are coming over this weekend.”

“That’s good. You got a new roommate already?”

“I did. A friend I met a few years ago moved here, so…”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.” The door opens and Lucy steps forward. “Plus, she knows every little thing there is to know about me and you.”

Tim’s eyes widen and Lucy laughs as the elevator door closes behind her. Shaking his head, Tim smiles because Lucy looks happy again. His phone buzzes with another reminder about her cop-iversary, a term she coined to celebrate the anniversary of when she graduated to short sleeves. It’s the first year he hasn’t celebrated with her, but he’s still celebrating for her.

On the day of Lucy’s cop-iversary, you wake up early to surprise her with her favorite breakfast. When you have the food done and decorated for her big day, you realize that she should be awake by now. You walk to her bedroom door and knock lightly.

“It’s open,” Lucy calls from inside.

Gently pushing the door open, you see her finishing her hair. With the last clip in place, she sighs and looks at you. Her eyes are bloodshot, she looks tired, and there’s no sign of excitement for her big day.

“What happened?” you inquire.

“Yesterday was awful. A cop got shot, and I got roped into an undercover thing that almost blew up in my face… I’m just stressed and tired, I think. Everything’s piling on, you know?”

You extend your arms toward her, and Lucy hugs you tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “What is that amazing smell?”

“That’s your cop-iversary breakfast. Go eat, I’ll tidy up in here for you.”

“I love you,” Lucy sighs. “You’re the best person, friend, roommate, human, ever.”

“Back at ya,” you reply happily. “Now go before you run out of time.”

Lucy presses her hands together in another silent thanks as she walks backward out of her room. If she hadn’t told you about the rough day yesterday, her room would have. There are some clothes spread around on the bed and floor, her desk is disorganized, and there’s an overflowing backpack shoved in the corner. Her go bag, you realize. You pick a place at the back of the room and begin gathering the loose items; it’s the least you can do for your best friend.

In the kitchen, Lucy takes a bite of food and closes her eyes in appreciation. Before she can continue eating, someone knocks on the door. As she stands, she grabs a piece of food from the edge of her plate and pops it in her mouth on the short walk to the door.

“Kojo!” she squeals.

She drops to her knees without greeting Tim, opting to welcome Kojo into the apartment rather than the man who brought him over. Lucy takes the leash from Tim and leads Kojo to the couch.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks from the hall.

“Yeah,” Lucy answers, not looking away from Kojo. “What are you two doing here?”

“Heard about yesterday,” Tim says as he closes the door. “Thought you might want some Kojo comfort.”

“Kojo comfort is my favorite.”

“Happy cop-iversary.”

You survey Lucy’s room once you’re finished. With a satisfied nod, you turn toward her door. As you open it, you realize that Lucy has company.

“Sorry,” you say softly as the man looks toward you.

You recognize Tim Bradford from Lucy’s description of him and the pictures she refuses to delete. Now that they’re friends, it’s fine, but you didn’t approve of the folder while she was lying awake every night.

“I’m just gonna…” you trail off and walk toward your room.

“No, you can stay,” Lucy says. “You live here, too. This is Tim. Kojo and I will be right back.”

Lucy stands, and Kojo follows quickly behind her. She gathers her plate from the counter before she and Kojo disappear into her room and the door closes behind them.

“Hi,” you tell Tim. You remember that Lucy never actually said your name and offer it.

“Nice to meet you. And glad to see Lucy got a good roommate,” Tim replies.

You nod and look toward her door before you drop your voice to say, “Thank you. Lucy told me how you’re trying to do everything right after the breakup. Friends and all that. Plus, she needed to see Kojo today.”

“It is quite literally the least I can do,” Tim replies.

“I disagree. You seem like a great guy, Tim, and the fact that you’re trying at all means a lot. To me, at least.”

Tim isn’t sure how to respond to that. He blames himself for so much of what has happened recently, yet as he stands here with you, that guilt and the memories fade. He just wants to know about you.

“So, you and Lucy have been friends for a while?” he asks.

“Long-distance friends. We met online and then ran into each other in person a while back. Everything just kind of fit between us.”

You’re taking up every thought in Tim’s head, he realizes. Even as you’re talking, he wants to know more, to know you. But then a small voice in him points out that you’re young. Whatever it is he’s feeling doesn’t matter; you’re younger than him, younger than Lucy, and there’s no way you’d be interested in him. The realization fails to silence the other voice that whispers about how he feels alive, like himself again.

“How are you?” you ask. “Not just like how are you, I mean. Uhm… How are you doing with everything?”

The whispering voice rises to a yell. Tim’s heart knows exactly what it wants. Back to life in his chest, Tim acknowledges its cry that he needs you. Tim Bradford has feelings for Lucy’s younger roommate.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping your boundaries,” you add when Tim doesn’t answer. “It’s just that Lucy had me, Tamara, plenty of people to talk to after the breakup. From what she’s told me, you may not have had that same community to help you.”

“I don’t,” Tim agrees. His heart hammers in his chest as he wishes he could come home to you and your arms, where nothing else would matter.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs half-heartedly and offers a small smile. You see right through them to the sadness and guilt beneath. Living with Lucy has accustomed you to touch and physical affection, and you don’t think twice before you hug him.

Your arms wrap over his shoulders, and the brief moment where you think he will pull away ends when his strong arms tighten around your waist. He drops his face to your shoulder and holds you tighter as he clings to you. You feel it, and Tim does too, as he melts in your arms and releases the baggage he’s been carrying for far too long.

“You have people now,” you whisper.

Tim nods against you and raises one arm toward your shoulder to deepen the hug before he pulls away.

“Do you have your phone?” you ask, your hand still on his arm. “I can give you my number so you can call or text any time you want.”

Tim passes you his phone and watches your eyes as you type your contact information. As you place it back in his hand, you repeat your invitation.

“Anything you need, just to talk or listen, I’m here, Tim.”

“Thank you,” Tim replies. He holds your eyes for a moment then asks, “Is Lucy going to give Kojo back?”

You tilt your head back and laugh, and Tim smiles at the sight and the melodious noise. “Nope,” you answer.

“Maybe I should take her roommate to get even,” Tim jokes.

You smile at him as you shake your head. “Take a seat, she’ll be a while. There’s plenty of food, too, so help yourself.”

Tim happily takes a seat, more than willing to pass the time with you while Lucy gets comforted by Kojo. The minutes pass quickly as you and Tim get to know each other. When Lucy’s door opens again, Kojo trots to Tim’s side and Lucy calls that she’s just getting her stuff and she’ll be ready.

“Great, I’m a chauffeur now,” Tim grumbles.

“Tim, you should come over more often,” you suggest. “Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course. I think it would be good for all of us, though.”

You pat Kojo’s head as Tim promises, “I will. And if you ever want to come to my place or meet somewhere, you have my number.”

Lucy emerges before you can answer Tim, and she hugs you tightly to thank you for the cop-iversary present. She tells Tim he’s free to go, to which he rolls his eyes but leaves anyway. You know that you’ll be texting him soon.

“You hugged Tim,” Lucy accuses after he leaves.

“What?” you ask, turning back toward her after watching Tim leave.

“I’m not mad. You’re really good for him.”

“Lucy, I promise it was not my intention to-“

“I know,” she assures, reaching for your hand. “But Tim and I are friends, he clearly likes you… If you want to try, I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks.”

She picks up her bag and steps toward the door. “You didn’t ask how I knew you hugged him.”

“Cologne?” you guess.

“Happiness. I saw it on him too, and it’s been a very long time since it was that obvious.”

After she leaves, you unlock your phone and see that Tim has already sent you a text. With his comments and Lucy’s approval, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t pursue whatever it is that’s blooming between you.

“Thanks for the hug and the talk,” you read. You smile as you type a reply: Meet at my favorite restaurant on Friday for more?

The message says ‘delivered’ then ‘read,’ but there’s no reply. A minute passes and you lock your phone. Maybe you misread everything, and he really did just need a hug, and now he’s done. You try to shake it out of your head and begin to clean the kitchen. You’re nearly done when your phone rings.

“Hello?” you answer as you dry your hands.

“Why?” Tim asks.

“Hmm?”

“I’m older than you,” Tim points out. “And I dated your roommate and then dumped your roommate. I kept secrets and lied and nearly lost my job. There are more reasons than I can count that this wouldn’t work.”

“I know you’re older than me. And I don’t care. Tim, for all of the reasons you just told me that this- that we wouldn’t work, did you think of any reasons we would?”

Tim exhales before he admits, “No.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday, because both of our hearts already know, and for every reason that your brain tells you no, my heart is telling me yes. If yours isn’t, tell me now and we walk away.”

“Mine is too,” Tim whispers.

“Good.” You smile as you say, “Hey, can you get the early bird special, so our first date is cheaper?”

“What do you care? You’re not paying,” Tim replies, an addictive, teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m glad you came over today, Tim. I needed that hug, too.”

“See you on Friday for more.”

GRRRRRR I NEED A STILES FIC WHERE'S UR LIKE THE COACH'S KID OR SMTH AND HE FINDS OUT. IT'S NOT FUNNY I NEED STILES IN MY VEINS AAAA. Who said that guys...

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “You’re coach’s daughter!?” ♬⋆.˚

╰┈➤ requested!

pairings(s)- stiles stilinski x reader

Summary- You and Stiles have been talking recently but he finds out who your dad is.

category- fluff

warnings- american school system, coach, greenberg, slight shy!stiles, not proofread

word count: 2670

masterlist; teen wolf masterlist

a/n: I hope this fits what you wanted!!

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

You had switched to Beacon Hills High School during your sophomore year of high school. Your father is a coach and teacher for Beacon Hills so you went to a different school, you and your dad (mostly you) thinking it was for the best.

But you hated it, the reachers were annoying, the school was crazy strict and you just didn’t fit within the school so you asked your dad if you could transfer to Beacon Hills where be taught at. He was more than overjoyed to now have you attending his school, he signed the transfer papers fairly quickly.

You had only transferred at the beginning of the school year, showing up for the first day like any of the normal students.

Now it was the 3rd month of school and no one knew you were Coach Finstocks daughter except for the two of you, and the principal. Your parents split up when you were little, your dad getting full custody of you though you do see your mom here and there. When you were born you got your mothers last name, something to do with her culture or the way she was raised so that was another reason no one knew you were Bobby’s daughter, you guys didn’t have the same last name.

When you arrived at the school your attention was immediately taken by a certain boy. His name was Stiles Stilinski. As soon as you saw him you thought he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, everything about him was literally perfect in your eyes. So what did you do? You talked to him…but not until like a month and a half of school had already passed

On the first day of school when you walked into class is when you noticed him, you also noticed him staring. So you walked towards the empty seat behind him and sat down. That day when you had sat in that seat, he and his friend turned around slightly and you just gave them a smile.

Almost 2 months had passed since the first say of school and that was when the two of you first spoke. The both of you remembered that day distinctly.

You walked to your usual seat in first person and sat down, right behind Stiles like usual. When the teacher began class you took a breath. You had finally grown the balls to talk to him, since he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Leaning forward slightly in your seat, your hand reaches forward and gently taps his shoulder twice, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment, not enough for someone else to notice, but enough for just the both if you to notice.

The boy quickly turned around, he knew it had to have been you since you sat behind him but when he turned around and actually got view of you actually trying to talk to him he lost his breath. His mouth dropped open slightly, his jaw slightly moving as if he was trying to talk but the poor boy just couldn’t get the words out.

In response to his awkwardness you let a smile overcome your face, trying your best to not laugh at his expression. “do you have a pencil I could borrow?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb the teachers lesson. Now, after a while of wanting to talk to him all you did was ask if you could barrow a pencil (which you had in your bag anyways), but it was better than nothing!

Stiles’s mouth snaps shut and he swallows, nodding quickly he turns around and grabs a perfectly sharpened pencil out of his bag. He turns back around rapidly and holds the pencil up between the two of you like it was a prize. The smile on your face grows wider all while he just stares at you with wide eyes, as if he’s in a trance. You reach forward and grab the pencil from his hand, purposely making your hand graze against his. The boys expression hadn’t changed, still looking at you as if you were a princess or something.

Stiles could have sworn his heart skipped a beat and no actually probably stopped when he turned around to see you looking at him with a gentle expression.

He had wanted to talk to you since the very first day of school when he saw you. Before that day he had never seen you, so clearly you were new to Beacon Hills, or at least new to the high school. He just never had the guts to actually speak to you, he was never good with girls. Especially very pretty ones like you. When he first turned towards you he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, you were up close and asking him a question and you looked like a princess. In that moment he would do anything you asked, when you asked for a pencil and finally snapped him out of his haze he was grateful. One of those reasons being because he thought he looked like an idiot staring at you like that, and second because he really liked your voice.

From that point forward the two of you spoke regularly. After a couple of days you guys ended up exchanging numbers and you talked 24/7. He still didn’t know that your dad was one of his teachers and his coach but you were going to tell him soon.

Last week Stiles was shockingly able to ask you on a date. You were shocked that he was able to stand in front of you and get the words out but you obviously said yes, happily. And when he got that answer he lit up like a kid at a candy store and did a celebratory movement. You had compromised a day in which you knew your dad wouldn’t be home, you didn’t want your dad to know just yet and you didn’t think Stiles would want to be heavily interrogated on your first date.

The date had went great, the two of you were just as amazing together as you were outside of romantic feelings. Although you guys just recently met, both of you could see a great relationship together and it was definitely something you both wanted to explore.

Just five days after your date with Stiles it was now a Wednesday and you were at school, the two of you were supposed to be having another date tonight. Right now it was your free period, usually you would go to the library to either read or catch up on work but the library was currently closed for the day seeing as the librarian had to leave early. It was too cold to go outside seeing as it was transitioning from fall into winter. So you decided you would go to your dads classroom seeing as his office is connected to the room and you knew he would let you chill in his office while he taught his class, what you didn’t know was that Stiles was in that current class.

You walk through the halls of the school, bag over one of your shoulders. Your phone in your hand with headphones connected to your phone and one of the buds in your ear.

When you make it to your dads classroom you bring your hand up and knock on the door. He opens the door and looks down at you with a confused expression “what are you doing here?” he asks, not rudely or in his usual tone of voice but in pure confusion and slight worry which shocks the other students, never having heard him using an abnormal tone of voice on a student.

Bobby steps aside and lets you walk in even further slightly. Upon seeing your frame Stiles perks up, a smile immediately casted onto his face and his curiosity spiked. “Free period and library’s closed. Can I chill in your office?” you ask your dad, slightly stepping further into the classroom, avoiding looking at any of the other students. “yeah go ahead” he looks down at you a nods. He moves back towards the front of his desk while you walk past.

As you were walking you felt eyes on you. You were about to turn around when your dad speaks up. “Greenberg! Stop looking at my daughter!” he says harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut slightly and turn towards your dad with raised eyebrows. Still feeling eyes on you, you turn your head slightly and see Stiles looking ahead at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. At further notice everyone in the classroom was looking between you and your dad in shock, well except for Greenberg, he had his head down after your dad’s comment.

“shes your daughter?” Stiles says loudly in shock, his finger pointing at you. His mouth was open in a jaw dropping way and his eyes were wide. You take a deep breath and walk into your dads office, ignoring the eyes of your fellow students and more importantly Stiles

It was now the end of the school day and you were getting longer stares from students, clearly word had gotten around. You truly didn’t care but now everyone would be questioning why neither of you said anything.

And let’s just say you were slightly avoiding Stiles, well not really…you only avoided him after that class. You were now at your locker, packing up your school bag so you could head home when a presence is suddenly next to you. “Coach is your dad!?” the voice exclaims, breaking slightly at the end. You let out a breath and grab your bag, then closing your locker.

Stiles’s face was revealed once you closed your locker. His face was filled with pure shock, he looked at you as if you had two heads. Your lips press together into a thin line and your grip on your backpack adjusts. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, I was going to I swear!” You try your best to reassure him.

His face confronts from shock and into confusion, looking at you with pulled eyebrows but his mouth still slightly open. “Wha- I just cant believe your Coaches daughter!” he exclaims loudly, everyone in the hall turns towards the two of you and in response to his loudness you raise a singular brow at him. He grimaces slightly “sorry” he whispers. “I just cant believe you, like you standing in front of me came from him, it makes no sense!” he exclaims, definitely more on the quieter side this time around.

You fight a smile on your face, Stiles always brought one to your face. When he sees you smiling a smile is immediately pushed onto his face as well. “Well I am” you respond quietly, looking up at him.

“And you know thats very scary but who cares?” Stiles shrugs, one of his hands coming up to grip onto his backpack strap. Your face lights up in response, you were scared he would want to see you anymore just because of who your dad is. You let out a small laugh at him saying your dad was scary but then you look up at him happily “so, our dates still on?” you ask, swaying your body lightly.

He pulls a face and looks at you as if you asked the dumbest question ever. “Are you serious? You’re the best girl ever of course I want to go on that date, you’re like amazing, your pretty, funny, kind, great clothes- Well uh um unless you dont want to go on the date which is totally-“ He rambles, moving his hands theatrically.

During his rambling you couldn’t help but smile. Sure the compliments weren’t out of this world creative or poetic but when you could tell they actually mean something from who they’re coming from means a lot. Before he could continue to ramble and stress about if you wanted to go on the date or not you bring your hand up and cover his mouth. “I want to go on the date, Stiles.” you assure him, nodding your head slightly with a smile

Stiles lets out a little nervous laugh and nods as you remove your hand from his face. He tucks one of his hands into his jean pocket and looks down at you bashfully “good, cause I was- am really excited about it” he tells you, bouncing on his feet lightly.

“me too” you respond, looking up at him with a matching smile.

It was now later in the day and you were ready for your date with Stiles. You were dressed in a cute turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans, Stiles said he was surprising you so you had no clue where the two of you were going.

Now, since the cat was out of the bag you didn’t see too much of a problem in the fact that your dad would indeed be home all night. So he would be here when Stiles picked you up and dropped you off, which was definitely nerve wracking knowing who your dad was and knowing how Stiles is, Oh! and the fact that your dad had no clue you were going on a date.

You were putting in your last earring when the doorbell rang, you quickly grab your jacket and throw it on, as well as grabbing your purse as you walk out of your bedroom. As you were walking down the steps you hear your fathers naturally loud voice ring out so you stop, not being seen by either of them. “What are you doing here Stilinski? and with flowers?”

“uh um your-“ before Stiles could even finish his sentence where he was going to tell Bobby the flowers were for you he jumps in.

“for me?” He asks dryly, knowing they weren’t for him yet at the same time not knowing they were for his daughter that was currently eavesdropping.

“Yeah! actually! As a thank you for being the best coach” Stiles stammers, pushing them forward and into your dad’s hands. From on top of the steps behind the wall you let out a giggle and finally decide to put Stiles out of him misery.

Your dad looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand then back up at an awkwardly smiling Stiles in pure confusion. Not a single thought in your dad’s brain or a feature in his face didn’t hold confusion.

You walk forward, now stepping in between the two boys. “Dad. Stiles and I are going on a date” you tell him confidently. To be sure to win your father over him you show him one of your award winning smiles that always had an effect on your dad.

“Stilinski? You’re going on a date with Stilinski? Actually no, my daughter’s going on a date?” Bobby exclaims, pointing his finger at each of you accordingly.

“yup” you say happily, popping the p

“oh god” Stiles whispers, silently praying for his safety

“since when do you go on dates?” Your dad asks uncomfortably yet in his usual stern voice. He didn’t like seeing his little girl grow up.

“since now, dad” you respond, quickly pulling him into a hug and pecking his cheek. “Make sure to put those in water!” you say hurriedly while grabbing Stiles’s hand and speed walking to his car

“Have her home by ten!” Your father exclaims, his hand holding the flowers raising and shaking sternly with his words.

“Yes Coach! Oh uh Sir!” Stiles exclaims back to him, clumsily almost tripping over his feet but your hold was there to balance him. He opens the door for you and lend you a hand to get inside before running around to the drivers side of his precious Rosco.

“At least it wasnt GreenBerg” Bobby mutters, running a hand over his face and through his hair as he closes the front door.

Charlie Gets Over the Waitress (charlie kelly x afab reader oneshot)(SMUT!)

*it’s always sunny intro music plays*

pairing: charlie kelly x afab! reader (gender neutral up until the cut i’m pretty sure)

tags: smut!, age difference mentioned but vague (mostly just for a bit with dennis lmao i couldn’t resist), slight size difference, very cliche and weak plot, charlie has soft dom vibes, praise, slight possessiveness, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, some dirty talk, some fluff

i tried to make the intro kinda read like a typical iasip episode. the nsfw starts after the cut! this story is very self-indulgent lmao but thanks for reading!

charlie comes into the bar one day where dennis and mac, who were bored out of their minds, turn their heads to greet him. dennis was behind the bar while mac sat in front of him nursing a beer.

“nice of you to show up for work, charlie,” dennis says dryly. but as charlie sits down on a stool with a small pout, dennis knows exactly why he’s been gone all day so far. “been catching up with the waitress again, huh?” dennis guesses, putting charlie’s stalking problem lightly. charlie huffs and rolls his eyes dramatically, confirming his suspicions.

“man, you’ve got to get over that girl.” mac chimes in.

“yeah, she’s crazy.” dennis scoffs.

“and not even that hot..” mac adds.

“ugh, shut up.” charlie interrupts them and buries his head in his arms on the counter. after a pause, he speaks again, his voice muffled and soft. “i know.. i know i have to get over her.” charlie agrees, taking his friends by surprise. not that they cared that much..

“you know, maybe you could try finding someone else? someone who actually likes you back. or at least, like, get laid.” mac suggests and dennis nods, neither of them really thinking much of the comment or expecting charlie to change his ways. but mac’s words make charlie pause.

“maybe.. you’re right.” charlie lifts his head up, a gleam in his eyes all of a sudden as he looks between dennis and mac. as if they’re reading his mind, they instantly try to backtrack, talking over each other and saying no. charlie interrupts them again.

“no, no guys! you’ve got to help me. set me up on a date!” charlie stands up now and approaches mac and dennis enthusiastically, giving a desperate look to both of them.

“bro..” mac sighs, hanging his head in his hand in exasperation.

“no way, charlie. it was just a suggestion.” dennis shakes his head. the two men are clearly not interested. they share a look, both of them thinking it would be nearly impossible to get any sane person to date charlie.

“oh, come on!” charlie yells, gesturing wildly with his arms. “i.. i’ll..” he stammers, trying to think of something he could do to reward them. “i’ll give you guys the week off. i’ll do all the work, including charlie work.” he finally promises, looking between them hopefully.

mac gives another dramatic sigh while dennis looks annoyed, but thoughtful.

“fine. i’m in.” mac says, standing from his seat.

“fine. but this better work,” dennis huffs, coming around the bar to point sternly at charlie. “you have to promise us that this is worth our time, that you’re actually going to try and get over that waitress.”

“i promise!” charlie celebrates as soon as they accept, pumping his fists in the air as his two friends head toward the front door of the pub. “oh yeah! just come find me whenever you got the goooods. i’ll be here.” he smiles and does finger guns at them, trying and failing to act cool. dennis grimaces, the weight of their task starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders.

“right, just.. take a shower or something, charlie.” he grumbles on the way out, slamming the door. but charlie doesn’t care at all about how irritated his friends are with him. all he’s thinking about is possibly getting lucky tonight. it wouldn’t be the waitress.. but for once a distraction, at least, is welcome.

“where the hell are we going to find someone crazy enough to go on a date with charlie? he’s a freak!” mac yells as he and dennis get in the range rover. “seriously, i love the dude. but anybody could spot that a mile away.”

“i don’t know, man. just forget about the ‘charlie’ of it all for now. we’ll go on the prowl, find ourselves a candidate and butter ‘em up. then we can throw them at charlie and just hope things work out somehow.” dennis suggests with a shrug. “sure, we’ll do our best. but we’re not miracle workers. we just gotta look for someone desperate. or stupid. or both, preferably.” he sighs. being able to find a serious companion for charlie didn’t even cross his mind as a possibility. “if all else fails, i’ll get frank to buy him a hooker or something.”

with that, they head to the mall and decide to pop into the first trendy clothing store they see. dennis scans the area for potential options while mac follows. “just leave it to me, buddy. i know exactly how to find the person we’re looking for.” he says with his typical air of superiority, both of them trying to act casual as they pass through the clothing. they wander around for a bit, but then, dennis spots one person in particular.

“ah, ah, ah. i think we might have a candidate,” he stops mac and leans in close for only him to hear, pointing at someone who was minding their own business looking through the t-shirts. “not bad, a little on the plain side. but i think that’s exactly what we want, way higher chance of being desperate. plus, they’re here all alone, probably lonely.” dennis analyzes them as if he was a genius, but really he was just being creepy and making assumptions. but mac, of course, goes along with it without question, looking impressed.

“man, you are good! they look a little young, though..”

“even better,” dennis comments, almost forgetting he wasn’t the one looking for a date. mac gives him a look. dennis clears his throat and quickly clarifies. “naive.” mac’s stern expression softens and he nods thoughtfully in understanding. with that, they approach.

“hi there,” dennis gives a charming grin. “i’m dennis. this is my buddy, mac.” he introduces him and mac and you look at them, a little confused.

“um, hello. i’m (y/n),” you reply, waiting for them to say what they’re approaching you for. dennis breaks the silence.

“ah, nice to meet you, (y/n). beautiful name. well, me and my friend here just wanted to say hi. we were both saying how good-looking you are, right mac?”

“right! you’re super hot-” dennis elbows his side. “i mean, uh, attractive!” mac gives a big smile, both of them pausing to see how you react. this is the real test. if you fall for this, you might just give charlie a chance.

“r-really?” not used to this kind of attention, your lips curl into a bashful smile, looking a little like a schoolgirl. the boys’ eyes light up. this is what they want to see.

“oh, yeah. most beautiful in the mall, hands down,” dennis winks, turning up the charm. “but hey.. listen, we’ve got a good friend named charlie. he’s been having a real rough time trying to get over this one girl. he’s a real sweetheart, and it hurts seeing him so down, you know?”

falling for the sympathy card, you frown. “oh, that’s horrible..” you reply.

“right? it sucks.. but we were thinking it might be nice to set him up with a date, get his mind off things. show him that there’s other fish in the sea, so to speak,” mac continues, easing you into their true purpose here. “would you be willing to meet him?”

your eyes widen, not expecting the request. a date for yourself was long overdue, not to mention whoever this mystery man was that they spoke of. and it’s not like you had anything better to do. and hey, if you didn’t like him you could back out, right? after considering for a moment, you slowly nod. “yeah, i guess so. why not?”

with that, the three of you leave the mall, going to a hole-in-the-wall bar they apparently own in south philly called paddy’s pub. you all walk in, and when you don’t immediately see charlie the two men instruct you to sit in a booth while they go find him.

but when dennis walks into the office, he finds charlie sitting behind the desk flipping through photos on a camera. dennis already has a feeling he knows what he’s doing, but charlie’s suspicious jump when he comes into the room says all he needs to know.

“what are you looking at there, charlie?” dennis asks pointedly, putting his hands on his hips.

mac comes in behind him. “what, what’s he got?”

“nothing!” charlie says quickly. “it’s nothing, man, just some random pictures. nothing special-“ he tries to brush it off before dennis snatches the camera away and quickly flips through the photos to see blurry, far-away photos of what looked to be the waitress. not even bothering to give charlie the benefit of the doubt, too annoyed after trying to find a date for him, he storms out of the room completely giving up.

“well, i’m sorry, but this man is a lost cause!” dennis rages while charlie gets up in a panic and follows him into the bar, not even processing yet that dennis was talking to someone else. mac rolls his eyes and goes to pour himself another beer.

“hey, hey, wait man! it’s not what it looks like!” charlie yells after him, lying poorly as he tries to get the camera back. that’s when his eyes catch you sitting in the booth. he stops and stares, forgetting all about the pictures for a moment, taking immediate interest.

“listen here, this man stalks the girls he likes. and that position is already filled. sorry to waste your time.” dennis announces to you, his anger pointed at charlie.

you just sit there, completely confused and unable to do anything but watch the chaos unfold.

“hey! i’m not a stalker, and l-let’s not jump to conclusions, man!” charlie tries his best to backtrack what dennis has unveiled, caring about your impression of him despite not even knowing you. stalking tendencies he may have had, but now that he’s looking at you it could be that that ‘position’ dennis spoke of just opened up.

as this strange interaction goes on before your eyes, you study the shorter man. he’s really handsome. definitely weird, a little disheveled. but funny, animated. cute. you probably should be running away, but the seriousness of their conversation starts to go right over your (possibly sick) head.

“you can stalk me if you want. i don’t mind,” you blurt out in a flirty, joking sort of way, looking right at charlie with a smile. this makes everyone in the room take pause. dennis eyes you incredulously as if he’s realizing you’re crazy. mac just raises his eyebrows and takes a swig of his drink. but charlie, he looks strangely flattered.

“really? i mean! i-i.. you got it all wrong. i’m not a stalker,” charlie says, raising his hands up at his sides.

“he is.” mac and dennis say in unison, making charlie grit his teeth.

“would you get out of here?!” he snaps. mac and dennis actually listen and head towards the door, not knowing what to think but happy that their job is over.

“see you in a week, bud.” mac says before the door to the bar slams. you just watch, not thinking much of it before turning your attention back to charlie.

“charlie, right? i’m (y/n).”

“uh..yeah, hi (y/n).” he replies, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward sort of way. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to..” he mumbles, not expecting you to want to be anywhere near him after hearing about his problems. he glances in your direction, wanting to kick himself for ruining another potential relationship. for some reason the waitress falls off of his mind when he looks at you.

“i’d like to stay. i think you’re cute.” you reply, making his ears turn rosy. “is that okay?”

“u-uh, um..” his eyes widen and it takes him a second to recover, not expecting this response at all. “y-yeah! that’s fine.. great, actually. would you, uh, would you like a drink? on me.” he smiles, remembering his manners and getting a sudden burst of joy now that his plan is actually coming to fruition. maybe he’ll be able to get over the waitress after all. and if not, maybe he’ll have a good night this with new person anyway.

you tell him your drink of choice and he makes it for you, taking a beer himself. he sits down across from you at the booth and you get to talking, the conversation flowing easily between you, an instant chemistry blooming. you both just met, but right off the bat there is a lot he really likes about you, and you can say the same for him. you like his scruffy beard and his smile. you like his quirky demeanor. the way his eyes brighten when he laughs and the expressiveness he has when he talks. his fluffy hair. and his hands. they’re soft yet manly. you start to imagine what they would feel like on you. this leads to wondering what he’s like in bed. he is a goofy sort of guy, but something tells you that he knows what he’s doing.

and as the alcohol blooms in your systems, these kinds of thoughts start to dominate both of your minds. you’re both starting to slur your words and giggle at everything. someway or another, you start comparing your heights.

“well, you know, i’m shorter than dennis and mac.. they always call me a little guy.” he says, shrugging. neither of you know how you got to this topic.

“how tall are you? i wanna see,” you say, suddenly getting out of your seat and motioning him to follow. you make him stand right in front of you, putting your hand on top of your head and moving it towards him to see where it lands.

“you’re taller than me.” you say with a small smile, your face inches away from his. oh, he likes that. he just nods. then you reach for his arm and start to compare your hand to his. hand to hand, your fingertips barely reach the first knuckles of his fingers. he swallows hard.

“you’re a little pipsqueak, aren’t you?” he smirks, teasing you. you pout slightly but he continues before you can reply. “don’t deny it. i’m one of the smallest guys i know. and you, my friend, don’t even compare.” he chuckles, enjoying the soft blush that colors your cheeks.

“yeah, yeah. whatever..” you roll your eyes, looking away.

“you’re cute.” he says.

“i am?”

“mhm.”

your hands still connected, he slowly interlocks your fingers. when you look at him he’s looking right into your eyes. his mind is running wild with all the thoughts of what he wants to do with you. to do to you. and by the look in your eyes, you feel the same. but he wants to hear you admit it first.

“whatcha thinking about?” he asks in a nonchalant way, a teasing look in his eye as he watches your face.

“i want to kiss you.”

“oh?” he raises his eyebrows playfully, pretending to be shocked. “how much have you had to drink?” he jokes as if you weren’t both knee deep in liquor.

“just- just a couple..” you pout again, the buzz making you easily embarrassed.

“you’re so cute.” he repeats with a laugh. this time, he brings his free hand up to your cheek as if he couldn’t resist.

“please?” you murmur when he doesn’t immediately kiss you. he smirks at this, before giving you a nod.

____________________________________________

he leans in, connecting your lips with his. it’s gentle, soft, and warm. your linked hands disconnect, his going to your waist while yours go around his shoulders, the action bringing your bodies closer together. feeling your curves underneath his hands and pressing against his body, he growls lightly and kisses you deeper.

things heat up fast, he’s walking you backwards until your butt meets the booth table, and he’s helping you to hop up and sit on it. one hand plants itself on your thigh, encouraging you to spread your legs so he can step between them and be all that much closer to you.

you break the kiss only to catch your breath. his free hand goes up to tangle in your hair while his mouth purposefully moves from your lips to your jawline and down your neck, angling you to give him better access. you’re beginning to think that your earlier suspicions about him are dead-on.

you let out a gasp as he sucks the sensitive skin beneath your ear into his mouth, nibbling there and leaving a small mark. he does the same around your pulse point, copying the action at multiple areas until you’re breathless and practically grinding against him.

“pretty,” he murmurs as he pulls away and admires his work, his voice taking on a husky quality that makes your stomach flip. he pulls away from your neck and his fingertips tease just beneath the hem of your shirt as he looks down at your flushed face.

“can i?”

you nod. he slides his palms underneath the fabric, feeling your soft skin as he helps you out of your shirt, tossing it aside. he sucks in a breath when he sees you in your lacy bra, before helping you out of that next.

freed from the fabric, your breasts spill out and into view. you shiver slightly, your nipples already hardening in the cool air.

he stares, entranced for a moment, licking his lips. his fingers twitch with the urge to touch but he forces himself to hold off, a mission in mind.

“i wanna see all of you.” his eyes flit back to yours, silently asking your approval, to which you nod eagerly once again.

with that, he moves to undo the button and zipper of your jeans in a flash, helping you lift your hips and wiggle out of them. when he catches sight of your panties, the gusset already damp with arousal, he bites back a groan.

“fuck, (y/n),” he rasps before bringing a hand to tease you through the thin fabric. you let out a whimper when his thumb catches your clit, and he looks like he can barely contain himself from devouring you whole right then and there. his other hand cups one of your tits, tweaking the nipple between his fingertips as your hips start to grind into his hand.

“you’re so responsive,” he chuckles softly, almost in amazement. he can hardly believe that this is all happening. you’re so sexy. you almost make him forget about his own needs, his cock hard and straining against his jeans. “feel good?”

“yeah,” you breathe out, in shambles already. he can tell you want, need more. and oh, he’s going to give it to you.

he leans in and presses a kiss to each breast before kissing down your stomach. to your surprise he kneels, now face-level with your clothed pussy.

“charlie..” you whine, the sight of him so close to where you need him most driving you crazy. you feel shy and desperate all at once.

he just hums in response, spreading your legs wider and beginning to plant soft kisses up your inner thighs, alternating between them. they’re meant to soothe but they just rile you up even more. you can feel his beard lightly scratching your skin on the way and it makes you nearly tremble with need.

this continues until he reaches your center, where he kisses at either side of your panties. you whine again and he grins to himself, satisfied, before finally taking the waistband between his fingers and pulling the last thing that’s covering you down your legs, revealing your soaked slit.

he takes hold of your legs, guiding them to rest over his shoulders and he brings a hand up to your pussy, gently spreading you out with his thumb. you can feel his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh before he gives you what you want.

his lips meet your cunt, his warm tongue sampling your wetness with one broad lick from bottom to top. you shudder at the sudden contact, letting out a gasp. he takes a firm hold of your hips, holding you in place before devouring you with gusto. lewd sounds fill the air along with your moans. he alternates between pressing his tongue inside you and sucking your clit, swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes your hips buck and your hands grip the table for dear life.

fuck, he could eat you out all night. listen to the sounds you make, savor your sweetness, feel you grind against his face. but that wouldn’t help the throbbing happening in his pants. getting a little selfish, he decides to move things along in a way he knows you won’t complain.

at the same time he draws your clit between his lips, he shifts slightly. bringing a hand down, he traces a finger between your folds, wetting the digit in your abundant slick before pushing in slowly but surely. you nearly squeak from the sudden combination of his mouth and fingers, your back arching off the table.

he soon adds another finger and pumps them in and out. when his fingers curl upwards and graze that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a high-pitched cry and begin to tighten. you’re getting close. he lifts his head for a moment, still fingering you steadily.

“(y/n),” he breathes, pupils dilating as he takes in your blissful state, head lolled back and skin flushed with pleasure. “can you cum twice for me?” he asks, eager to push you over the edge.

you look down at him, the hunger in his eyes and the evidence of your arousal on his lips nearly making you finish right there. you nod, mouth dry.

“good.” he hums, eyes flitting down to watch your pussy soak his fingers before looking back up at you. “want you to cum on my fingers and then on my cock. sound good?” he asks, making your head spin.

“yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. his fingers start to fuck you faster and deeper.

“mm,” he just grunts, biting his lip as if in a trance as he savors the sight of you before diving back in.

his lips pull your clit back into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers fuck you open. it doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge, his name on your lips and your hands in his hair.

“oh fuck, charlie-” you whimper, your thighs quivering on either side of his head. he groans his approval against your pussy, the vibrations making your eyes roll back, and drapes a firm arm over your pelvis to keep you in place.

before you know it you’re moaning uncontrollably and writhing on the table as your orgasm crashes over you. he continues to stroke your fluttering walls and gently lap and suckle at your clit, letting you ride it out, in no rush at all. when you finally settle, he pulls back to see the aftermath.

he gently pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to clean them off before getting to his feet and leaning forward against the table, hovering over you.

“all good?” he asks, confidence clear in his voice as he takes in your dazed expression.

“absolutely.”

he grins. “you taste delicious,” he watches with satisfaction as you blush. “ready for more?”

you’re a bit winded, but still beyond aroused. “yes.”

he starts to undo his pants, but when he’s about to pull them down he pauses, looking down at you.

“are you comfortable?” he asks randomly.

you’re laying on a cheap bar table, so the answer is probably obvious. but you don’t really care about that sort of thing at a time like this.

“i’m okay.” you reply. but he clicks his tongue, not convinced.

“nah, come on. get up.” he instructs, taking you by the waist and guiding you up.

once you’re on your feet again, he sits down in the booth. you watch as he shimmies his pants and boxers down.

“c’mere.” he calls, motioning you over. and god, he looks sexy.

you do as he says, not really knowing what his plan is. but as he helps you to straddle his lap, you understand.

“there you go. perfect.” he murmurs, his encouragement in that soft, raspy voice making you melt. his hands find your hips, kneading lovingly at them before bringing one hand down to position himself underneath you.

“ready?” he grins, his eyes sparkling as they meet yours.

“mhm,” you nod, your breath catching a bit when you feel the head of his cock seek out your entrance.

“good girl, just let me in.” he coos as you start to lower yourself onto him. the praise makes your pussy flutter around him briefly and he bites back a growl at the feeling, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

eventually you sink all the way down and he bottoms out deep inside of you. the stretch, the fullness, it’s divine. you can feel every ridge, every vein, every curve molding your insides into his unique shape. you curse softly, savoring the feeling as you melt against him, your hands going to shoulders for support.

charlie feels your cunt pulse around him again and he groans. “god, you’re so sensitive aren’t you?” he teases, though he’s genuinely a bit amazed at how well you’re milking him already.

you nod with a light pout, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. he’s not sure how you look so cute at a time like this. “you feel so good,” you whimper, rolling your hips on his lap. he chuckles at this, watching you with half-lidded eyes.

charlie’s content with letting you grind and cockwarm him like this, enjoying the feeling of himself deep inside of you. but the more selfish side of him wants to push you a bit, see how much you can take. plus, he doesn’t know if he can control himself much longer if you don’t move.

“i know, i know.. but, i believe we had a deal..” his lips curve into a small smirk as his eyes dance with yours. “you want to cum on my cock, don’t you?” he asks bluntly. you didn’t think you could get more turned on but you stood (or sat??) corrected.

“..yes.” you nod shyly. he chuckles lowly again and grabs your hips more purposefully.

“then ride me, baby. c’mon, i’ll help you.” he coaxes sweetly, his hands gently urging you to move. when you do, lifting your hips and sinking back down in one smooth motion, both of you moan. “fuck, that’s it. tight, wet, perfect little pussy..” he mutters between gritted teeth as his head falls back, his composure faltering.

as you build up the pace mewls fall past your lips. he lets you ride him by yourself for a little while, enjoying watching your tits bounce and your hair fall in your face before he can’t resist stepping in, unable to resist the urge to fuck you any longer. and so he starts to help you up and down, meeting your downward motions with his own upward thrusts. you gasp sharply, knowing instantly you won’t last long at this rate.

“that good?” charlie bites out cockily between panting breaths. he knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it.

“god, yes.” you reply quickly, your face scrunching up from the pleasure. when you tighten around him he knows he’s on the right track, a primal, determined gleam in his eye as you start to fall apart. his cock twitches at the thought of you convulsing around him.

“can you rub your clit for me?” he asks.

“y-yeah..”

“go on.”

you reach down to do as he says, and this combined with him fucking up into you makes you see stars. your breath hitches and you let out a series of pornographic noises. you’re climbing rapidly to your peak for the second time of the night.

“mm, you look like heaven..” charlie rasps, his eyes raking over you greedily, so lost in pleasure and taking it so well. there’s no way he’s letting you go after this. “let go for me, baby. you can do it, i know you can.” he encourages, snapping his hips up a bit faster.

your fingers dig into his shoulder as you reach the edge. you cum with a broken cry and a string of curses and his name, riding it out until your head falls forward into the crook of his neck and you’re panting for breath, your arms wrapping around him as your orgasm settles.

“perfect, so perfect,” he grunts, still pulling you up and down on his cock. it was his turn to reach his peak, and he earned it. you whine into his neck, overstimulated and officially brainless, and he gently soothes you, contradicting the way he’s absolutely wrecking you. “shh, sweetness, it’s okay. just a little longer, you can take it.” he whispers, his voice turning to a low, possessive growl as he continues. “so fucking tight around me, jesus.. made for me..”

he fucks you a bit longer, mumbled words of praise and filth slipping out between grunts of pleasure. the veins in his neck pop out and his grip on your hips becomes tight enough to leave bruises. but soon he tenses up, cursing as he buries himself to the hilt one final time and finishes.

“fuck..” he pants as he comes down from his high, his hands immediately softening on your sides. his arms wrap around you and his lips graze your temple. “you okay?”

“mm..” you just hum, completely satisfied and exhausted.

“what’s that?” his lips quirk upwards, pulling back to look at your face. he’s looking for a full answer.

“i’m more than okay.” you tell him.

“good. same here.” there’s a gleam in his eyes as he looks at you, affection in his gaze. he didn’t want to let you go, but you couldn’t exactly stay like this in the middle of paddy’s pub. “let’s get you dressed and home safe, m’kay?”

he taps your hip gently, helping you off of his lap. he tries hard not to stare at the mess of your juices and his cum between your legs, the sight nearly making him hard all over again. he slips his pants back on and stands, finding your articles of clothing scattered on the floor and handing each to you.

once you’re dressed he walks you to your apartment which happened to not be that far away. at your door, both of you pause.

“you, uh.. you have a number or something?” charlie asks you, leaning against your doorframe. you smile and nod, pulling out a scrap of paper from your bag and writing it for him. he takes it and puts it in his pocket.

“alright, cool, well.. goodnight, (y/n)..” he smiles back, but doesn’t immediately move to leave. neither do you move to head inside your apartment. instead, you frown slightly, unwilling to say goodbye.

“would you want to stay the night?” you ask, looking at him hopefully.

“really?” a night away from his crappy futon sounds great, and the idea of sharing a bed with such a lovely companion instead of frank for once sounds heavenly. you nod and he happily accepts with a “hell yeah!”

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Manny Rivera x Blakc!OC (can be read as reader though)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Manny and Naoya’s meet cute

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - swearing, grammar errors,

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬! - It’s been a while…a long while. Sorry for any mistakes or errors, as if said, it’s been a long while and I sort of forgot where I was going with this storyline without having to watch season 2 over. Plus, I also just took what you guys were saying and started at the beginning of the season where Manny shows up. I wanted to get there quickly as well. Most of my fics for characters do follow the show/movie they come from because I’m not that creative, so spare me please. I also have to come up with ideas for just some one one one time between him and the reader, if you guys want to see anything in particular let me know. Also, this is just a little some to hold you guys over for the time being. I plan on editing t this afternoon little before the other chapters come out. I wrote this sleep deprived.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭! - 5,895

“Yurrr!! What it do Camera Crew?” Ava beamed as she opened the doors for the infamous camera crew. “Welcome back to the house that Ava built. It’s been a while.” She grinned.

“It’s not like they’ve missed anything,” Naoya said in a monotone as she came out of the office with papers in her hands. She then flashed them a small, but genuine, smile. “Nice seeing you though.” She said softly.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Melisa said as she got into step with them. “What’s it’s been? Like, five months? How you doin'?” She grinned.

Gregory then came out of his classroom, seeing his fellow coworkers and the new and improved camera crew. “Oh, what’s up? We still doing this?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Naoya and Ava answered, although their tones varied.

The cameraman then turned around at the sound of excited giggles from afar, catching Jacob beam at the sight of them. “Oh, my God! You guys! Hey!” He cheesed as he jogged up to them, bumping into the cameras. “Oh! Sorry.” He said as he straighter the camera up. “Um, wow. You got new equipment. Look, I don’t wanna say I told you so, but—.”

“I will!” Naoya said, pushing her friend so she could be in view. “You should’ve listened to me and Jacob when we said to make a right on 30th street instead of a left that night.” She said, squinting at them with a point before walking away. Ava nodded in agreement.

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“You want me to tell you what happened to you?” Ava asked the person behind the camera confused. “Oh, right. Tell the people.” She said before her usual grin spread across her face. “So, they got robbed.” She stated bluntly. “Because they thought it’d be cute to walk around West Philly at night with all this camera equipment. Hell, I’d have robbed you if I was there.” She told them. “Anyway, here we are, five months later because that’s how long it takes for three people with art degrees to save up for new cameras. Welcome back! It’s Career Day today.” She finished enthusiastically before it all dropped within a second. “Unfortunately.”

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“Why would you not listen to someone from Philly when they say don’t do stupid shit in the city?” Naoya asked, looking at the people behind the camera. “We tried to tell you and look what happened. You’re lucky you weren’t held at gunpoint.” She said as she crossed her arms. She paused, looking at the face of the camera crew. “You were held at gunpoint? Oh…” She cringed. “Why the hell did you come back? Are you getting cut a check? Because it must be good.” She stated. “And if you are I want in, I don’t care how much money you think I have.” She said.

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The camera crew then caught the teachers walking into the library as they all waited for some meeting by the district. Naoya took her seat in front of Ava, flashing a confused look at the other when she saw the glasses on the woman’s face.

“Ava!” Barbra yelled, spooking the woman awake. “Not planning on being conscious for Career Day?”

“This is a district initiative. They can handle it.” She frowned, relaxing back into her seat with those glasses still on. “Anyone else feels like the people from the district have been more annoying than usual?”

“They’re not all bad.” Barbra waved her off.

“I think they’re cool.” Jacob chimed in from the other table. Naoya looked back at him, squinting. “Stay at your own table.” She told him, causing Jacob to frown at her in confusion, even though he didn’t take it to heart.

“I actually like them this year.” Gregory chimed in.

“You too,” Naoya said again.

“Shocking,” Melissa said, giving the man a knowing look that he tried to avoid.

“I don’t know, I feel like they’ve been unequivocally and universally worse than they’ve ever been. From unhelpful to unbearable.” Evan complained.

“Wow, what big words for you Ava.” Naoya jutted with an evil smile, turning away before she could see the woman lift her glasses to give her a dirty look. Naoya just continued to smile, looking into the camera even though she could feel the hard gaze on her back.

“Good morning Abbott Elementary.” Janine grinned as she walked into the room with her district coworker behind her. Naoya smirked as she looked her up and down, slightly nodding her head at a chipper and well-dressed Janine. Her eyes then caught a familiar pair behind the short woman, the man smiling at the woman sitting before him. Noaya flashed him a quick smile, causing his to grow as they stared at one another. She tilted her head, looking up at him as he leaned against his weight against the table behind him.

“Hey.” He mouthed to her, not taking his eyes away from her.

“Hi.” Naoya cheesed, lighting biting her bottom lip as she looked into his warm gaze.

“Good morning Abbott Elementary.” Ava mocked from behind her, then received a tap from Barb. Janine smiled, seeing the camera crew was back.

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“So, yeah, I work for the school district now.” She beamed. “You guys missed a lot.”

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𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫…

Janine gave the camera a quick smile and wave as she walked into the auditorium, moving to find a spot in the chairs lined up. She chose to sit in one of the empty spots next to Gregory, who was behind Naoya, who was across from Jacob.

“Left for right?” The man asked.

“Uh, left.” She answered before taking the seat.

“Good choice.” Gregory grinned.

“Thank you,” Janine said. Naoya frowned, raising her eyes from the handbook in her lap and making eye contact with the cameras a few feet away. She didn’t move her head, not wanting to be obvious, but her face showed enough.

“Girl this development day has me developing a migraine.” Barbra groaned from her seat next to Melissa, who was popping a pill into her mouth before downing water in her cup. The pair sat in front of Jacob.

“Let me have one of those aspirins, please,” Barbra asked, holding out her hand.

“It’s a sleeping pill,” Melissa said. “Wake me if there’s a fire, a tornado, or a volcanic eruption.” She sighed. “I know that’s right,” Naoya mumbled to herself, not looking up from her papers.

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“What?” She asked with a shrug. “I told you guys I hear and know everything. I’m nosy, okay? That’s isn’t a crime.” It was silent for a moment before the woman gave the person a confused look. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?” She asked as she lifted her hands to her face.

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“Good day to the fine teachers of Abbott Elementary,” Ava said into the microphone. The majority of the teachers in the room then turned to look at Gregory and Naoya, who was shocked by the odd attention she’s been getting as of late. The pair sat there awkwardly, Naoya more so trying to convince herself that they couldn’t be staring at her.

“What?” Ava asked them.

“No comment about Gregory being “F I O N, fine?” Melissa asked.

“Or whatever’s different about Noaya that’s making her more attractive this year.” Jacob chimed in, causing everyone to look his way, but he was too busy staring at his friend across from him. Naoya gave the man a confused and slightly disturbed look. “Aren’t you gay?” She asked him

“I’m starting to question it.” He said, making her eyes widen and look away from him.

“No, Mr.Hill and Ms.Schemmenti.” Ava chimed back in a little aggressively. “I was speaking to everyone. But since all eyes are on them, uh, Mr.Eddie would you mind reading from the first paragraph of your immaculately assembled binder?” She said a polite smile on her face. If Naoya wasn’t so disturbed, she’d frown her the woman’s behavior, but she couldn’t help but spiral inwardly due to the way everyone was acting.

“Sexily?” Gregory asked unsurely.

“Excuse me?” Ava asked. “That’s is not only suggestive but highly inappropriate in front of our company,” Ava said before gesturing over to the trio that stood at the other end of the stage. Naoya’s eyes jumped to them, eyeing the tall man in the sweater for a brief moment, who just so happened to already be glancing her way. At the newfound attention, the man called his throat before speaking, looking away from the woman. “Uh, hi. Hi, everybody.” He said as she made his way into the center of the over to the podium for the microphone. “We’re from the school district. Principe Colman invited us to come, observe, and collaborate with you all on this Development Day.” He said.

Naoya slightly tilted her head as she analyzed the man, admiring his obvious strive appearance.

“Yes!” Ava said in the mic. “The importance of collaboration is one of the many things I learned while I was matriculating at Cambridge.” She boasted. Naoya gave the camera a deadpanned look.

“We’re super excited to be here.” The man spoke again. “On behalf of the new superintendent, John Reynolds. I’m Manny. That’s my dream team over there.” He gestured to the pair from his original position. “That’s Emily. That’s Simon. And we don’t come empty-handed. We’ve come with some iPads and SMART boards for your classrooms, loaded with learning apps.” He explained, causing the teachers to clap. Naoya just sat there though, her hands clasped over her crossed legs with a disinterested look on her face.

“New and improved model,” Melissa stated as she leaned closer to Barbra.

“Same old engines.” The other woman said. “These people aren’t going to change a blessed thing, except how many bodies are in the room.”

“Thank you. We’ll see you around.” Manny finished with a grin, his eyes trailing back to Naoya. She sat there, face blank as she looked the man up and down. Manny smirked at that, before looking away as he made his way back to his team.

“Gregory, we still need you to read from section ‘A’., there in your binder,” Ava stated.

Gregory stood from his seat, binder in hand. “ ‘Section A. Welcome back.’ That’s concluded section ‘A’.” He said before closing the booklet.

“Thank you, Mr.Eddie. You may be seated.” There was light applause after that, most uninterested or highly confused.

Softly, as if she wasn’t away she was in front of a mic, Ava began to read from her notes. “As the teacher, if they have any ideas from over the summer they’d like to implement. Try to make it fun.” She said to herself. She sighed before moving away from the podium. She struggled for a bit before doing a small dance, asking the question over again. “Does anyone have any ideas from over the summer that they’d like to implement?”

Janine raised her hands.

“Janine!” Ava said. “One of our most…teachers at Abbott.”

“So I was thinking over the summer while I was spending time with myself and just thinking about, like, what really led me to this point in my life.” She began.

Melissa yawned. “Get to the point.” She groaned with her head back.

“Get to the point, Janine,” Barbra said.

“Yeah, okay. So, a Career Day?” Janine suggested. “We should do career day at the school because I checked and we haven’t had one since the only jobs for women were typists, moms, and wet nurses.” She explained. “I think it’s a great way for the kids to see all of the amazing jobs they can have. And that’s it. That’s my idea. I’m done. Career Day.” She quickly finished before taking her seat. Naoya nodded, turning in her seat to look at the girl.

“That was an amazing idea, Neen.” She said, causing the shorter woman to smile. Naoya nodded as she looked at her friend for a while longer. “How much time did you spend alone, exactly?” She asked, causing Janine's smile to slightly drop. Before she could answer, Naoya waved her off. “It doesn’t matter, I was alone too.” She said, letting out an awkward chuckle. “I’m gonna say my idea now.” She said before Janine or Gregory, who was listening, could comment on anything.

She raised her hand, catching Ava’s attention, as well as the people on the stage. “Yes, Miss Lovell.” She said. Naoya jerked her head back at Ava’s use of her professional name before she just shook her head at it. “I was thinking of a librarian.” She said. “A better library program, actually. New books, more books, better books. Just an improvement of that old wretched system that keeps losing the books I put in there.” She said through a strained smile at the thought of all the books she’d donated, only for them to end up missing. Manny looked the woman up and down from his place on the stage, watching the way the sun seemed to shine through the room only for her, dressed in fun colors and her quirky glasses.

“I could name a plethora of reasons those Ideas won’t work.” Ava began, barely listening to their suggestions. “Scheduling, previous failed attempts, that’s the fact that it’s was your ideas.” She said, gesturing between the two. Naoya jerked her head back at the woman’s audacity while Janine tried to save herself.

“Right, but there is a way—.”

“But I’m just gonna go ahead and say no and save yourself the embarrassment.” Ava cut in. Janine leaned back in her seat while Naoya raised her middle finger at the woman on stage, not caring for the guests who were visiting the school.

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“I’m never suggesting anything again.” She hissed as she leaned against the lockers. “It’s one thing to try and embarrass me in front of my coworkers who already live pathetic lives and make less money than me. It’s another to do it in front of sexy company. She’s gonna pay one way or another.”

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Naoya was walking next to Janine, the shorter woman looking her friend up and down. “There is something different about you that I just can’t put my finger on.” She said skeptically, causing Naoya to slightly frown at her. “You are glowing though.” She shrugged.

Before Naoya could speak on the matter, they were intercepted by the voice. “Hey, Janine. Ms.Lovell.” They said, causing the girl to turn around. “I’m Manny, which I said up there.” He stumped as she held out his hand. Janie shook his first before he moved into Naoya. The man hiked as he looked her in the eye, Naoya’s face blank as she placed her hand into his, giving his large hand a firm shake.

“You can call me Naoya.” She said with a small smile. She couldn’t help it. She tried to stay stoic in front of the man but there was something about him that just made her all giddy and gooey inside, especially now that they were up close and she felt his skin on hers, even if it was a simple handshake.

“Naoya.” He tested the name on his tongue as he continued to look her in the eye, both parties loving the way it sounded. “I love that.” He said until he was aware of what he said. And also aware that his hand was still in hers. “Name. I love that name. It’s cool and different.” He said, before pulling his hand away. Noaya nodded, letting out a small huff of a laugh. “Thanks.” She said, placing her hand behind her back. Janine’s eyes snapped to the cameras near them, slightly shocked written onto her features.

“Uh, I just wanted to say, that, uh, Career Day and the Library Program sounded good.” He began. “They’re good ideas and I would love to hear more.”

“Thank you!” Janine said. “So you guys are new at the district?” She asked.

“Yep. Just started over the summer. Loving it so far.” He explained, looking between the two. “Feel like we’re going to make a lot of positive changes and do what the last administration didn’t. Nobody embezzling funds in my watch.” He joked, causing Naoya to giggle. Janie was taken aback, looking at her and the cameras at Naoya's unusual behavior. “Funny.” The taller woman simply stated before beginning to make her way out of the auditorium.

“Oh, hey.” Manny began again, stopping her while Janine stayed stationary. “Actually one of the things we wanted to do today was shadow some teachers. Are you two up for it?” He asked, looking between them. Naoya glanced at Janine, who shrugged, before looking back at Manny and doing the same. “Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna be setting up my classroom.” She said.

“Same,” Janine stated.

“Exciting!” Manny grinned.

Naoya nodded, a fond smile on her face. “It’s is exciting. I’m a pretty creative and free spirit.” She grinned. “Yeah? Well, I’m just gonna grab my coworkers.” He grinned. “They're talking to Principle Coleman over there. You guys are so lucky you have such a good principle.” He said. Janine awkwardly smiled while Naoya just pursed her lips.

“Yeah.” Janie agreed, nodding as the man walked away.

Noaya watched him with a small smirk before sighing and twirling around, her straightend hair flowing behind her. Janine squinted as she watched the woman practically skip away in glee, Manny not too far behind.

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“That’s what it is!” Janine grinned primal at the cameras. “She’s not wearing her contacts.” She grinned proudly. It didn’t last long though, slightly dropping as she looked at the camera, thinking it over more.

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“No,” Naoya said to the camera, an almost offended look on her face. “I wear my glasses almost all the time. Granted, these are new frames, but why the hell? These people know nothing about me.”

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“So, where’d you teach before picturing to the school district?” Noaya asked as She, Janine, Manny, and his crew walked to their classrooms.

“I didn’t, actually.” Manny averted sheepishly. Janine flashed a look to the camera while Naoya hummed in acknowledgment with a purse of her lips. “But I grew up here, though.” He quickly added. “My first-hand experience is more from when I was a student in the area.” He said as Janine led them into her room.

“Oh, alright.” The shorter woman nodded. “Well, you know, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to teach at Abbott.” She said. “Because I was a student in the area, as well, so…” She shrugged. “This is my room.” She said to them.

“What are you making here?” Emily asked, gesturing to the table where a tone of colored paper and glue was laid out.

“Oh, A ‘Welcome Back’ sign for the kids. Naoya was helping me paint.” She grinned, gesturing over to the woman next to her. “We’re gonna decorate it together so that everyone feels included. I try to implement a lot of color. I wanted to go with blue because that inspires focus.” She began to explain.

“And calm, which is so important for primary classes.” Manny chimed in. “I read about that in Chalkbeat.” He grinned. Naoya tilted her head at that, flashing the camera a Quick Look as she glanced between the two.

“You read Chalkbeat?” Janine asked, a smile starting to spread across her face.

“Mm-hmm.” Manny hummed.

“I basically live in the comment section, so…” She chortled.

“Oh, my God. Are you @JTeaguee215?” He asked as he stepped sideward a little, an excited grin on his face. “Yes!” Janine said enthusiastically. Naoya softly nodded her head, glancing at the camera when it tried to catch her tense facial expression at the exchange.

“And @JTeagues267 when I wanna spice up the discourse.” She continued.

“Ms.Teagues, I’m @MannyFromTheBlock. I’m always using this emoji.” He said before doing a salute. Janie gaped at him in shock. “That’s you!”

“That’s me.” He grinned.

“I love your comments,” Janine stated with a grin.

“I love your comments.” He smiled back.

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“Fuck!” She yelled in the hallway, turning away from the cameras as she her fist j to the lockers, making a loud sound.

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Janine continued onto fine before glancing at Naoya, who had taken several steps back and looked to be on her way out of the room. When the other woman saw her looking, she flashed a tight smile before looking away. Janine eyes subtly squinted in confusion before she continued. “Anyways.” She began, brushing the interaction off. “Naoya wanted to paint the walls blue last year, but you guys—the district—didn’t like the idea of pinging walls, so…” She shrugged, explaining for the other woman.

“What!? Why not? That’s is so good.” Manny responded, his eyes sifting to the distant figure of the other woman. “I think that’s exactly an idea that we could and should implement.” He said softly, examining her awkward grin. The woman just nodded, rubbing the back of her neck while Janine glanced at the cameras at the tension hiking within the room.

“It’s a low-stakes, high-reward improvement,” Emily stated, glancing Naoya’s way.

“Yes. Let’s revise that.” Simone grinned. Janine pursed her lips, making a funny face as she looked away from them. The trio looked at the woman funny. “Are you okay?” Simone asked.

“Yeah,” Janine asked. “Just a lot of positive reinforcement. I usually only get that from Ms.Love back here.” She awkwardly chuckled, pointing to the woman next—behind—her. That caused all of their eyes to drift to the woman, who seemed dither than she was before. She stood by the other door, her hands stuffed in her pockets now that eyes were on her while she was almost away from them.

“Are you okay?” Janine asked, looking at the woman confused, her mood a complete flip from earlier.

“No,” Naoya said simply before twirling around and skipping to her room. Janine paused, glancing back at the trio as they all watched the woman leave, Manny with a small smile on his face. “She’s a wonderful woman.” She began, stealing out of the door. “A soft chocolate chunk cookie with crispy edges. Her words not mind, they’re in her Twitter bio.” She said, trying to fill the air with something. The trio nodded at that. Janine lightly cleared her throat before making her way to Naoya’s room. “Let’s follow her, shall we.” She said softly, the others trailing behind her.

They made it to her door, looking into the classroom as Naoya rearranged the comfy furniture she had the way she wanted it.

“Wow.” Manny sighed from the door before making his way into the room. Naoya turned at the voice to see the group, said the man looking around as he trailed in.

“This is really nice.” He said softly before letting his eyes fall on her.

Naoya’s face held a small grin as she nodded. “Thank you. I try.” She shrugged.

“It’s cozy in here.” Emily grinned as she made her way around the different sections.

Noaya's eyes snapped over to her as she pushed a small couch over to the rug she had laid out in between the bookshelves. “Yeah, I try to keep it that way.” She said, pairing the seat. “I hate—The kids hate fluorescent lighting.” She chuckled nervously, shooting them a quick look. “But some do come on when it’s instruction time.” She added to save her ass.

Manny grinned at her as he nodded his head. Janie looked between them with a small smile before glancing at the watching cameras, her expression dropping.

“That’s actually really important.” He began. “Such lightening for long hours does nothing for brain stimulation.” He said. Noaya glanced at him, lightly nodding. “Yeah, it actually has the opposite effect. Weakens memory retention causes migraines” She said. Manny hummed, looking at her. “It’s why they have them in prisons.” She added, quickly turning away from them and then moving over to a box that sat on a table. Manny’s eyes tricker after her, not wasting time before stepping closer as he watched her.

“What’s this section for?” Simone asked, watching as the woman set a box on the ground in front of an empty shelf, flanked by small bookshelves on either side. “Oh, this is my relaxation saltation.” Naoya grinned as she lifted the clear top of the record player, and then reached down to pull out a vinyl from the box. “Well, that’s what it is now.” She said as she placed the Minnie Riperton record onto the player. “It used to be where I taught the kids music. As best I could though. We didn’t have a music teacher here for a while.” She said sheepishly, glancing at them. “Now it’s called the relaxation station. The kids like coming over and picking out their songs. It’s a reward for good behavior.” She shrugged before pressing the machine on, the classroom then being filled with the soft sound of Les Fleurs by Minne Riperton.

“Wow,” Manny said softly, not taking his eye off the woman. “That’s amazing.” He said, this team nodding as they looked around the comfy section. “Naoya glanced at him, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you.” She said softly. They stayed each other in the eye for what felt like forever before the woman gulped and looked away from him, trying to find something to occupy herself. She looked down, her eyes going to the box of records she needed to put away. She squatted as she began unloading them into the section at the bottom of the shelf. She handled the old-school records with care, not wanting to damage the already torn covering and hurt the disc.

Manny couldn’t help but watch with a fond look in his eye, the colorful woman in her own world as she worked, her lips softly singing the song playing in the background.

“What’s this on the board?” Emily asked from the other side of the room, catching their attention. Naoya had just finished when she stood up, rubbing her hands against her jeans. She quickly glanced at Manny, who was already looking at her, before her eyes trailed to the questioning woman near the board, who pointed at the Kanji.

“Oh, those are just words I she a lot so I put Kanji next to them so the kids become familiar.” She said as she walked closer. “We also didn’t have a language teacher here for a while so…” She tried off with a shrug. “I was teaching them the Spanish I learned from the bodega guy growing up but he wasn’t saying anything children should be.” She grinned tensely at them. “Now I just inform them on Japanese when we have free time or if they’re curious, which they usually are.”

“Why Japanese?” Simon asked. Naoya glanced between all of them, a small smile on her face.

“I’m Japanese.” She said with a small smile. “It’s my first language. My mom was a nurse and an English teacher over there for a long time.” She sighed. The other hummed, surprised at the new revelation while Manny admired the woman.

“My mother was a teacher as well.” He said, causing the woman to look his way. “It’s part of the reason why I work at the district now.” He said softly. Noaya started at him, mother of the faces faltering from their soft expressions. She just nodded at what he said. Because she could speak, as if she was going to, Janine spoke up.

“What’s this one mean?” The woman asked, pointing at the unfamiliar Kanji on the board.

“Oh, it’s just love.” She shrugged. “I put it on the board at the beginning of each year because if I was a teacher in Japan, that would be my name.” She said. “Sensei Ai or Ai-aan.” She stated in Japanese, ignoring the impressed looks she gathered from the crew as she continued to explain. “Even though Ai is the general term of love and affection.” She shrugged.

“That is so amazing,” Simon said with a proud grin, looking at the woman. “There is such a diversity of cultures and learning in this classroom. What grade do you teach?” He asked. Naoya was slightly taken aback by his apparent enthusiasm, looking at the man with a small smile. “Fourth grade.” She said.

“Mhm, that’s when all the magic starts to happen.” He said, causing Naoya to nod. Manny glanced between the two, his smile slightly strained as he watched them interact.

“Yeah,” Naoya said. “There is a significant development in their cognitive abilities. The children become more logical and critical thinkers, alongside increased independence, stronger social connections with peers, and a growing awareness of social hierarchies, often navigating feelings like peer pressure and the desire to fit in. They also start thinking more about abstract ideas, and not just about things they can observe.” She explained. Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock, taking in the information she just dumped on them.

“I majored in Psychology for Human Growth and Development. I was gonna be a children’s therapist but I realized my heart can’t really handle all that.” She said. Some hummed with the other nodded at the woman.

“Well, aren’t you the gift that just keeps on giving? Full of unexpected but pleasant surprises.” Simone said, grinning at the woman. Naoya laughed, waving him off before turning to find something else to do in her class. Manny’s eyes trailed after hard, glancing between her and his coworker.

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Noaya was walking down the hall, talking to Gregory when Janine came out of her classroom, spotting the two. “Oh, hey! Fancy seeing you here.” She joked, speaking to Gregory. “Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing to the boxes the pair held.

“Just bringing the books in.” The man said. “Oh, there is a ten-for-ten sale at Nichols Schola Supplies, by the way.” He said while Noaya nodded.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Janine said, catching the two off guard.

“What the hell?” Noaya stated in shock.

“Trying out cursing. Still getting the hang of it.” Janine sighed, seeing their confused and shocked faces. “No was Baltimore?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Noaya sighed, sensing where the conversation was going, and moved to carry the box she held in Gregory’s classroom.

“It was so flat!” Was the first thing she heard from Gregory when she exited the class after luring the box down. She cried in confusion, looking at the cameras before making her way over to the pair.

“What’s you do over the break?” Gregory asked her before glancing over when Naoya came closer, squinting at her. “You too, now that I’m thinking about it.” He said.

“I just spent a lot of time with myself,” Janine answered. “And it was good for me. I feel, sure, centered, good.” She listed with a content smile. “Oh, Jacob, Noaya, Erika and I started going out to brunch together. We’re calling ourselves the Brunch Bunch.” She joked.

“Why not just the Brunch Bunch?” Gregory asked.

“I thought it was just the Brunch Bunch? That’s why I named the group chat.” Naoya said, her brows furrowed.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Janine said. Naoya pursed her lips while Gregory let out a tense exhale, Janine, looked between the two.

“It’s just not working for me, is it?” Janine asked.

“Not quite there,” Gregory said.

“Fuck, no.” Noaya scoffed. Janine snapped her fingers, pointing at the woman. “See, that sounds so much better.” She said. Noaya cocky shrugged before her eyes caught a finger coming up behind Janine.

“Hey,” Manny said. “Teacher of the Year. Gregory Eddie.” He said in his odd accent that she couldn’t help but find endearing. “I heard about that garden you made out front. Really cool, man.” He said.

“Oh! Thanks.” Gregory said. “I like to do it and it makes the school and the street look nice.” He explained with a small shrug.

“Sure does,” Manny said before looking between the two women. “Uh, Ms.Lovell, Ms.Teauges, could I speak to you two for a quick second? Sorry to interrupt.” He said to Gregory. Janine nodded. “Oh, yeah. All good. And you can call me Janine.” She said as she led the man into her room. Gregory and Noaya shared a look before they glanced at the cameras. They then went their separate ways, her into Janine’s class while he went into his own.

“Well, uh, Janine.” Manny begun. “I was talking with the other from the school district. And you two seem to have a ton of great ideas.” Manny complimented, looking between the pair. Janine smiled proudly at him while Noaya shrugged softly.

“There’s this fellowship—.”He started again. “The Robeson Fellowship at the district. We want somebody with in-field experience to come to enhance what the district can do to make schools as efficient as possible.” He explained.

“That sounds like a great opportunity,” Janine said. “I'm pretty sure I can help you find somebody for that.” She stated, glancing at the woman next to her.

“Well, no, I had one of you in mind for it,” Manny said, glancing between the two. Noaya’s eyes widened, immediately shook her head. “Oh! That’s amazing but.” She chicken’s nervously and in shock. “I can’t.” She sighed, trying to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t.

“Yeah.” Janine echoed. “I’m flattered but, you know, the summer is when I get a little bit of a break away from school.” She said, causing Noaya to point over at her in agreement.

“This would be doing the school year,” Manny stated.

“But that’s when we’re doing the schooling,” Noaya stated, brows furrowed as she gestured to her class.

“Yes, well, a sub would take over your class. While you’re with us for your duration of the fellowship.” He said. Naoya’s brows raised as she nodded at his words, taking them in. Janine, on the other hand, scoffed out a chuckle. “Sorry, but no.” She said. “I can’t imagine being away from my students, so… I’m flattered but, no, thank you.” She said.

Manny grinned, letting out a small chuckle. “Okay, alright.” He said before he then turned to Naoya, who had her hand behind her back. Her eyes widened slightly, taking in what the man was saying. “Uh, I’ll think it over.” She said with a nervous smile. “I would have to plan so much and, you know, I only have so many ideas.” She shrugged.

“And I bet they’re all great,” Manny told her, his voice very sure of himself as he looked at the woman. Noaya nodded her head, offering him a small smile. “Okay.” She said. Manny nodded before moving his way out of the room. He was on his way out of the room before he turned around, looking between the two.

“Just give it some real thought, okay?” He said, his eyes mainly on Noaya. “You can help make some real change around here. Creative and culturally diverse ideas—.”His eye then trailed to Janine. “And painted walls are just the start.” He gave Noaya another smile, showing his there before making his way out of the room.

Once he was away Noaya sighed, throwing her head back. “I’m gonna go complain to Jacob.” She sighed before exiting the room to make her way upstairs.