It's Your Life, But Let Me In

Not my kid!

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

Summary: When Angela and Lucy are wholeheartedly convinced that you and Tim have the most ‘I don’t get paid enough for this shit’ father to ‘I love making Tim’s life harder!’ child-like dynamic in the precinct, Tim is stuck with the fact that they won’t shut up about it.

Tim Bradford had been through a lot in his years as a cop. He’d survived war zones, worked under some of the worst training officers the LAPD had to offer, and somehow managed not to strangle Aaron Thorsen on a daily basis. He’d seen it all.

And yet, nothing in his career had prepared him for you.

“Kid, I swear to God—”

You guided the criminal into the backseat of the shop with a grin, entirely unfazed by the exhaustion in his voice as you shut the door. “I got the guy, didn’t I?”

Tim exhaled through his nose, standing on the curb and leaning against the shop. “You got the guy by jumping off a dumpster, nearly breaking your neck, and landing on top of him like some kind of rabid squirrel.”

“Worked, though.”

“You are going to give me a stroke.”

“Eh, you’re too tough for that.”

Tim turned his head just enough to shoot you a look—one of those deadpan, barely-contained irritation looks that had made rookies before you crumble under the weight of his judgment.

But you? You just smiled, perfectly comfortable in the way you leaned back against the shop like this was just another normal day.

Meanwhile, Lucy and Angela were having the time of their lives eavesdropping into you and Tim’s conversation as they walked towards youse.

“I mean,” Lucy mused, arms draped over the front seats like she was settling in for a show, “it’s kind of impressive. You have to admit, Tim—”

“I do not.”

“—that it was a solid takedown.”

Angela, arms crossed but clearly holding back a smirk, nodded. “If a little reckless.”

You lifted a hand, like a lawyer presenting evidence in court. “A calculated risk.”

“Bullshit,” Tim and Angela said at the same time.

Lucy snorted. “You’re getting soft, Tim. Back in the day, you would’ve—”

Tim’s glare cut through the air like a warning shot. “You wanna ride with me for the rest of the month, Chen?”

Lucy grinned but lifted her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?” you asked, head tilting in curiosity.

Angela smirked. “The way you two act like a single dad with a hyperactive kid.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

Tim groaned. “No.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up, her smile downright smug. “Absolutely. He’s all rules and structure, and you’re just out here doing parkour, making his life miserable.” Her expression practically screamed, ‘Did I lie, though?’

Angela tilted her head, considering. “And yet, if anyone else tried to parent them, they’d end up in a ditch.”

You turned to Tim, expectant, eyes bright. “Sir?”

Tim exhaled sharply, staring dead ahead like if he ignored the conversation long enough, it would cease to exist. His jaw tensed, hands gripping his vest as he muttered under his breath—

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Lucy let out a delighted laugh. “Oh my God, that was the most dad thing he could’ve said.” She exclaimed to Angela, the two of them borderline snorting of laughter as if you and Tim weren’t there.

Tim made a mental note to start requesting solo patrols.

Meanwhile, you were still grinning like you’d just won the precinct lottery, leaning into your seat with the kind of self-satisfied energy that made Tim’s eye twitch. “So does that make Lucy the fun aunt?”

Angela snorted. “She wishes. If anything, I’m the cool aunt, and Lucy’s the big sister who has to keep you alive while Dad’s at work.”

Lucy gasped, clutching her chest like she’d just been hit. “That’s… painfully accurate.”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face like he could physically wipe away the conversation. “You’re all insufferable.”

You, unfazed as ever, nudged his arm with your shoulder, practically radiating warmth and mischief. “C’mon, sir. You know you love us.”

Tim had been a cop for a long time. He knew how to lie. Knew how to keep a straight face. Knew how to bluff his way through situations that should’ve killed him.

And yet, when you said it like that, with all the unshakable confidence of someone who had already decided he was stuck with you, Tim didn’t have it in him to argue.

He sighed instead, looking into the shop windows as if there was something more important to focus on besides this conversation, and muttered under his breath.

“Not my kid.”

Angela leaned against the shop, arms crossed, the smirk on her face downright smug. “Oh, please. You act like it’s just us seeing it, but literally everyone knows.” She said, holding a hand up as if to say ‘Oh, you don’t get to talk just yet.’ when Tim opened his mouth to protest.

“Grey watches you suffer on purpose. Nolan says you remind him of when he first became a dad,”

“Lopez, shut the hell—“

Angela only continued, “West told me he once saw you instinctively put an arm out to stop them from stepping into traffic—mid-lecture—like a stressed-out parent.” Her voice laced with a knowing tone as she crossed her arms, “And me? I’ve personally witnessed you yank them back by the collar when they tried to chase a suspect barefoot because, and I quote, ‘I had to know if I could.’”

A small ‘Ohhh, I remember that.’ left your lips, huffing a laugh at the memory that was personally hilarious to you, but excruciating to Tim.

“Not to mention, just last week, you scolded them for getting blood on their uniform like it was grass stains on a kid’s soccer jersey.” Angela raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “So tell me again how they’re ‘not your kid.’”

Lucy whistled, “Damn, Wesley been teaching you a thing or two.” she smirked.

The sidewalk fell into a momentary silence, save for the hum of the engine and the distant chatter of dispatch over the radio.

You, still grinning like you’d just won some unspoken battle, hopped into the shop and settled into the passenger seat, clearly pleased with yourself.

Lucy exchanged a knowing look with Angela, both of them reveling in Tim’s suffering as they walked back to their own shops.

And Tim? He just exhaled slowly, staring at the road like it held the answers to all of life’s problems—like if he focused hard enough, he could pretend he wasn’t stuck in a moving circus.

But deep down, buried beneath the exasperation and the ever-present headache that came with being responsible for you, he knew the truth.

He’d never admit it out loud, but he was stuck with you. And worse? He didn’t actually mind.

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

Giving Zoro Head On The Ship Deck 18+

Aka- Getting dick on the deck

Imagine the crew docking to boat at the nearest island and going into town. Leaving Zoro and You alone. It had always been a fantasy of yours to have sex on the deck. The thrill of someone possibly seeing you. But your mind is consumed with the need to pleasure him. Tears dripping down your face. Saliva dripping down your chin.

He would periodically stroke your cheek while praising you on how well you take him. The feeling of pride takes of you when he’s so overwhelmed with pleasure all he can do is throw his head back and moan. Even when he dose finally release into your mouth you don’t stop until he has nothing left to give.

Pulling off of him and sitting up all you could do was aww at how beautiful he looked is this moment. The usual composed and tough man was almost like putty in your hands. His cheeks flushed and sheen of sweat was on his face and chest.

As he was about to gently push you onto your back to return the favor. You both heard Luffy loudly asking Sanji, “what and when they were having dinner.” because he was starving. Even though he just ate so much meat in town not even ten minutes ago.

So Zoro had to compromise and tell you to meet him later that night so he can show how much he appreciated you. Safe to say you wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep that night.

Authors note:

By the way this is a really shitty pic I just took photos off of Pinterest and mashed them together.

Also this is my first time writing. Please be some what nice.

Thanks for reading.

Kinktober Special Part 3

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 3) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Zoro x afab!reader

WC: 3100

TW: Grumpy Zoro, Big Dick Zoro, accidental voyeurism, handjob, bathtub fondling, doggy style, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, being walked in on, piledriver, name calling, dirty talk, degradation, Zoro is mean :( Zoro is also cute :( poor Usopp :(

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3: The Swordsman  

It was a quiet night aboard the Sunny. After dinner, you played cards with Usopp and Chopper for an hour before you started yawning. As the chatter of your crewmates and activity aboard the ship died down,  you felt your body begin to notice the aches of your long day at sea. You excuse yourself from the game and made your way down to your room. With each dragging step towards your door, you felt your legs getting heavier and heavier. You reach your room and slump into it to push it open. 

The sight of your bed makes your mouth water almost, so fluffy and cozy and waiting for you to swan dive into it. However, you look down at your grungy clothes and realize you haven’t showered or bathed yet today. Normally you would say skip it and do it in the morning, but your skin was extra salty and grimy. *a bath DOES sound nice…* You thought to yourself.

So, you stripped yourself of your sea-worn clothing and grabbed a fresh towel from your closet. You wrap the towel around your torso and head towards the bathroom for a quick soak. Popping into the bathroom a few doors down from your own, you walk over to the large tub to sit down on the edge and turn on the hot water. After putting in the plug and leaving it to fill, you moved from the tub to the bath cabinet, searching for something to make your relaxing bath just a bit more indulgent. You found some scented bath bubbles and brought them over to the tub and dumped a bunch in the running water. 

You waited for the tub to fill in by sitting on the edge of the tub and rubbing your sore feet. Once the tub was filled to the brim with hot, steaming water and giant, white fluffy bubbles, you unwrapped the towel from your body and folded it nicely to place next to the tub impending your departure from the water. You stepped gingerly into the tub and began lowering your aching body into the warm embrace of the bubbles. You audibly moaned as you finally seated yourself fully in the tub. 

You rest your head back onto the edge of the bathtub and let out a long, relaxed sigh. You were so glad you didn’t wait until tomorrow to bathe, this felt so good- 

*WHAM*

The door to the bathroom slams open. You shriek on instinct while sitting up on your knees in the tub, sloshing a large amount of water and bubbles over the edge in the process. 

“Ah!” You put your hands up in defense instinctively. 

“AAAH!”  A very confused, slightly tipsy swordsman had burst into the bathroom without knocking. 

“Zoro what the FUCK!” You shouted at him. He looked around the room briefly to register where he was and then his eyes zoned in on your naked, wet chest. 

“Hello?” You ask when he doesn’t respond, still staring at your breasts. His eyes finally snap up to meet yours and he takes a step backwards.

“I—y/n I— I thought this was my room!” Zoro stutters out, eyes darting from your body to your face, trying to keep his composure. 

“Why the FUCK would this be your room? You LIVE on this ship, HOW does this keep happening? Also WHY do you open doors like that?!” You weren’t upset, just still startled by his sudden, loud intrusion. 

As a man who isn’t easily criticized, Zoro immediately snapped out of his daze and and started yelling back at you.

“Oh it’s MY fault that YOU didn’t lock the bathroom door?! Also, as a fighter it is important to ALWAYS SLAM DOORS OPEN just in care there’s an enemy behind them! I can open this door any way I want, you-!” 

“Goodness, Zoro. Relax.” You interrupted his rant. 

Zoro breathes heavily. 

“I think a little TLC would do you some good, Mr Swordsman…” From your position on your knees you lean your body forwards towards the edge of the tub, arching your back and poking your ass up. It was shining with water and covered in bubbles. 

“Why don’t you join me? The water’s still hot…” You lean back again and squeezed your soapy breasts together, your cunt starting to heat up at the thought of finally having the green haired swordsman naked in front of you. 

“Hmm…” Zoro looks at your slick body and considers your offer. “I guess it would get everyone off my back about smelling. Fuck it.” He closes the door behind him and turns towards the tub.

You smiled and sunk back into the tub on your stomach this time, and folded your arms together over the edge of the tub and laid your head on them, so eager to watch him undress. He gently laid his swords down first before removing each layer of clothing piece by piece. 

He had no idea what he was doing to you. Reading the room was never his strong suit. You remind yourself to close your mouth, realizing that it had dropped open slightly as he began untying his pants. 

He lets them fall to the ground and steps out of them towards you. 

*Wow… more like four sword style…* You thought to yourself.

As Zoro walks towards the steaming tub, he notices your eyes on him. 

“Enjoying the view, pervert?” He smirks at you. 

“Very much so, actually, thanks for asking. Now get in here.” You smile seductively and lean back in the tub making space for him between your legs. He steps into the tub one foot at a time and lowers himself in. Once slotted between your legs, he leans his broad, muscular back into you, leaving your pebbled nipples pressed against his skin. 

He lets out a sigh as he feels the warm water comfort his body, sore from all his training that day. You start to rub at his huge shoulders, trying to alleviate some of the tension. He smelled like sake and sweat. He hums in approval as he leans back further into your adept touch. As you work his back and shoulders, you felt him starting to relax under your hands. Your hands eventually make their way towards his scarred chest, rubbing and caressing him there, so small and dainty against his large torso. 

“Y/n… what exactly are you doing?” Zoro asked as one of your soft hands made its way to his pelvis and started rubbing small circles on his hip bone. He leans his head back onto your left shoulder and turns to look at you. 

“What? I’m just trying to help you relax… is that so bad? Is it that terrible to let go for a little while?” You shoot him a wink. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt… it’s been a long day.” 

Taking that as the go ahead you reach for his half-hard dick under the bath water and wrap your hand around it. He flinches slightly. You begin to stroke him painfully slowly underneath the bubbles. He grows erect under your hand, his length and girth becoming even more impressive. You apply more pressure and he lets out a low groan. 

“Does it feel nice, Zoro?” You purr into his ear. 

“Obviously. But this isn’t what you want.” You were confused, this is exactly what you want, this was what you were here for, after all. 

“Of course this is what I want, I want to make you feel good.” You reassure him how happy you were just sharing this intimate moment with him, finally seeing him relax. 

“Jerking me off in the bathtub isn’t the way you want to do that, is it?” He turned again to look at you from where his head was resting on your shoulder. His lips looked so soft… how you wanted to feel them on your body… Okay maybe he was right, maybe you wanted something else… 

“Zoro I-“ you try to continue. 

“I know you well enough by now, I’ve heard you with the others. You’re insatiable, always screaming for more… You don’t want this, do you? You’d much rather have me throw your body around this bathroom right now and use it as a personal fuck-doll until you’re screaming and crying to be full of cum, right, y/n?” Zoro says so casually. 

His nonchalant delivery of these filthy words made your cunt clench with arousal. He was right, you’d love nothing more than being manhandled and railed by him at his full strength. Maybe he felt the slight twitch in your hips but he doesn’t wait much longer for you to respond. 

“Hmm? Am I right?” He asks you again. 

“Yes…” You breath out even lower than a whisper. You felt your cunt start to ache with need. You were perfectly fine with stroking him to completion in a nice warm bath, but now with his mention of fucking you it was the only thing you could think about. 

“Sorry I didn’t hear the rest of that… yes what?” Zoro teases you further with his voice, needing to hear you say what you truly wanted. 

“Yes I want it. I want what you said. I want you to fuck me hard, without stopping until I’m full of your cum. I want you to use my body for your pleasure. That’s exactly what I want.” 

“Hmm.” Zoro smiles before rising up from the tub. He steps out and grabs the towel you set on the side of the tub to dry himself off. He tosses it aside and grabs another towel from the counter and lays it out on the wooden floor of the ship's bathroom. “Well? What are you waiting for princess? A formal invitation? Get the fuck over here. I don’t have all day.” 

You quickly hop out of the tub and scramble over to the towel and lay down on your back, propped up on your elbows. Your head was foggy with lust as he stood over you, body still damp and large cock standing at attention. You spread your legs as far as they would go, putting on a little show for him. Your body was wet from the bath water, but he could see the sticky, slick arousal on your throbbing clit and pink inner lips that were swollen and peaking out at him. Now you were the impatient one, you were trying to incite him to get on with it already, fill you up.  

“Now let’s get some things straight. I’m not anything like that stupid shit-cook. I don’t ‘make-love’ and I don’t ask for permission. I’m going to fuck you the way I want and you’re going to take it like the good little slut I know you are.” 

The way your pussy clenched around nothing did not go unnoticed by Zoro. “Please just fuck me, Zoro. Fuck me hard, I need it.” 

“Hmm.” He smirks at you pleading for him from the floor with your legs spread impossibly wide. “Face down, ass up for me baby.” 

You quickly shifted onto your front and held your body up on your hands and knees. You spread your legs so he would have access to your throbbing core, while arching your back and poking your ass up in the air at him. Zoro walks over to where you’re presenting yourself to him and gets down on his knees behind you. He lowers his face so he can get a better look at your leaking pussy. 

“This worked up already? I haven’t even fucking touched you, you dirty slut. You love being treated like this, don’t you? Look at the way this pussy squeezes when I call you a little slut… You just need cock so bad, huh?” 

You hang your head down, so flustered by his filthy mouth, letting out a big sigh and pushing your hips back pleading for him to get inside of you. 

*SMACK* 

“AH!” You shriek out as Zoro delivers a harsh slap to your pussy. 

“I asked you a question, princess, I expect an answer.”

*SMACK* with this slap, you moaned.

“OH- YES! Yes I need cock I need your cock, please just fuck me now, please!”

“Oh don’t worry, I will. I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to regret begging for it. Now take this cock and be good-“ He says with a wicked glint in his eye. He spreads your lips and cheeks with his hands painfully far and lands a gob of spit onto your pussy. After chuckling to himself, he begins to slide his thick length into your sopping hole. 

“Fuck!” You throw your head back and slam your eyes shut as you steel your body to accept the large intrusion. “Fuck, finally, yes-“ You gasp out desperately. 

Once Zoro was fully seated inside you, he doesn’t give you more than a second before he pulls out and slams back in at full force. You scream. He continues to pull himself out to the tip and drill himself back into you, speeding up his pace. 

“God damn, princess. Still so tight? Such a sloppy little pussy I hardly expected it to feel this good.” Zoro continues slamming into your cunt while he keeps a tight grip on your hips. You moan with every thrust, losing yourself in the immense pleasure. You head fell forward again. Zoro used one of his large hands to pull your hair in a tight grip and snap your head up. 

“Head up, slut.” He kept his grip on your hair, pulling hard as he continued fucking you. He landed a harsh smack onto your ass cheek and you squealed out as your battered pussy squeezed his length. 

“Oh you like when I hit you like that? So fucking nasty! A little painslut!” He smacks your ass 3 more times in quick success and you cry out his name. 

“Yes,” you pant out. “I love it so much, please give me more!” You while staring at the bathroom door in front of you. You felt that familiar pressure begin to build in your abdomen. You began to slam you hips back onto Zoro’s cock, desperately chasing your orgasm. Suddenly, you’re pulled up by your hair and flush against the swordsman’s scarred chest as he wrapped his free arm around your front and harshly grabbed your breast, squeezing your nipple painfully. You loved it.

“Uh uh, princess. I’m fucking you, not the other way around. You stay still like a good little fuck toy, or this is gonna hurt.” Your cunt clenched around him again, pushing out more sticky arousal to drip down past his balls. 

Zoro breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

“Seriously? You want me to fuck your shit up that badly? Fine, you asked for it.”

He flips onto his back, pulling your body with him, his cock never leaving its spot nestled deep inside your cunt. Zoro hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs as far as they would go and put his hands locked behind your head, forcing you to look at your sloppy, speared pussy that was currently swallowing his dick whole. 

“Gonna absolutely fucking ruin you…” Zoro grunted out while he planted his feet and pounded into you from below. You felt your orgasm quickly approaching due to the angle he was hitting your spot from. 

“Zoro I’m going to-“ You couldn’t hold it anymore, it was happening so fast. Your body started cumming before you even registered what happened next. 

The bathroom door that Zoro neglected to lock was ripped open by an unsuspecting Usopp. You screamed at both the intrusion and at your body that started spasming and your pussy squirted right as he looked down at you from the door frame. 

“OH MY GOD- YOU GUYS?!” Poor sweet Usopp had just watched you cum on Zoro’s dick, thinking he was coming in to catch a quick shower before bed. 

“A bit busy here?!?” Zoro growled at him from underneath you, not faltering in his thrusts, being so close to cumming himself and not giving a shit who sees him wrecking you on the bathroom floor. 

Usopp was gone in a flash without a second word, the bathroom door slamming behind him. Zoro continued to fuck you at an inhuman pace as you babbled unintelligibly, tears streaming down your face. 

“Fuck you got so much tighter, you thought that was hot? Having him watch you squirt like that? You’re so fucking filthy. I’m going to fill this filthy little pussy up, just like you want so bad.”

You find your words finally and yell out at him, 

“yes… Please! Cum in me! Need it!”

“Take it, princess.” Zoro emptied himself inside of you, burying himself deep to the hilt as he did it. 

Both of you gasping for air, you laid on top of him for a few moments trying to catch your breath. He picks you up off his cock and wraps you in a towel, your hands still shaking from the intense fucking he just gave you. Zoro puts his clothes back on and picks you up bridal style. 

“Alright, let’s go to bed.” 

He carries you to your room and strips you of your towel and lays your underneath the covers in your bed. It was dark and you hear him walking around in your bedroom, figuring he was heading to the door. To your surprise, you feel the mattress sink and Zoro climbs under the blankets next to you. 

“You don’t strike me as the sleepover type, Roronoa.” You yawn as you finish your sentence. 

“I’m not, you just wore me out and your bed is way more comfortable than mine. Shut up and go to sleep.”  Zoro lays next to you on his back, slipped out of his clothing as well. You turn towards him and wrap an arm around his chest and throw a leg over his pelvis. You didn’t expect a response, but he uses his arm behind you to wrap around your shoulder and pull you in further to his chest. 

"I think we scarred Usopp for life..." You mutter to him as you recall what happened earlier in the bathroom.

"Ehhh whatever. It's about time he finds out what sex is." Zoro yawned loudly.

You chuckle.

“Goodnight, swordsman.” You smile to yourself.

“hmm.” He was already asleep. 

xx

Bradford Bingo

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: Lucy makes Bradford Bingo for the station. You try to keep it from Tim, but you win in front of him. 1.0k+ words of fluff

Lucy slips a paper into your hand without comment, then walks away and does the same to Nyla. Nyla raises her hands in question and turns to you. You shrug and look down at the paper. It’s a bingo card, but not any bingo card; it’s Bradford Bingo. Your card has “calls someone boot,” “yells at another cop (besides you),” “gives the disappointed look,” and more.

There has to be something behind Lucy roping everyone in the station into a silent game of Bradford Bingo. You flip the card and see Lucy’s handwritten winner gets a prize ;) note.

“You ready?” Tim asks as he approaches you.

You hold the bingo card behind your leg and nod. Without knowing what the prize is – even if there was no prize – you want to win Bradford Bingo. There’s no doubt that he isn’t aware of the game, so you keep the card hidden from him as you sit in the passenger seat of his shop.

“Did Wade tell you why I’m riding with you?” you inquire as he pulls out of the garage.

“Yep,” he answers.

You press your lips together and mark “doesn’t offer additional information” off your card.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Making a note.”

You interact with other officers, listen to radio calls, and witness people marking blocks off their bingo cards throughout the next hour. Tim has clearly noticed the unusual attention and people marking cards. He doesn’t care enough or isn’t bothered enough to ask for more information.

“Ask your TO, boot,” Tim snaps as you leave a scene.

You mark the square and chew your bottom lip in thought. With only one square left in your diagonal line, you have a real shot at winning. Tim just needs to yell at an officer who isn’t you.

“7-Adam-19, requesting backup for signs of violence on scene,” Aaron radios.

“7-Adam-100, responding,” Tim responds before steering into a left turn.

“I love that you get to tell me what to do again,” you murmur as Tim parks outside the scene.

Tim turns in his seat and glares at you for a moment, then shakes his head and opens his door. That’s the disappointed look, but it’s still not the bingo you need. You mark it regardless and follow him to the front yard.

“You thought it was okay?” Tim demands, his voice rising. “You do not think on this job, you do!”

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Bradford,” the officer replies.

“Oh!” Tim's jaw tightens before he yells, “That makes it all better!”

You see Lucy approaching with Nolan, and don’t hesitate to yell, “Bingo!”

“What? Already?” Lucy asks, rushing to take your card. “It’s been two hours!”

You nod excitedly, then remember Tim is standing beside you. He simply looks at you, watching as Lucy congratulates you. The call takes precedence, so everyone shifts their focus from the game to the case.

When you get back in the shop, Tim doesn’t move.

“It was Lucy’s idea,” you begin, looking at your hands. “It was just fun, you know, nothing against you.”

Tim extends his hand toward you, palm up, and you place the card in it. He reads the activities you’ve marked off before giving it back.

“Why’d you play?” he asks.

“I… I knew I could win,” you admit.

“You think I’m that bad to ride with?” he challenges.

“Uh- no- no, sir, just…”

Tim fails to hold his laughter in when you call him sir and snorts before covering it with a cough. He moves his hand to cover his smile, and you look at him in shock.

“Why would you do that?” you exclaim.

“You could get another bingo with it.”

You roll your eyes and complain, “I don’t even know what the prize is.”

“Care to make a deal?”

You narrow your eyes but shake Tim’s hand anyway.

“If someone else gets a bingo, I’ll give you a prize in addition to Lucy’s.”

“That’s terrifying, Tim.”

 “Deal’s a deal.”

“Alright!” Lucy calls in the bullpen. “We had two bingos in today’s game! First prize is a gift card for free dinner!”

“How long have you known?” Tim asks Wade, watching the awards ceremony from inside his office.

“Who do you think offered the gift card?”

“No ulterior motive?”

“You’ll never know, Bradford.”

Tim raises his brows as you approach your car. You offer the gift card to him, but he knocks your hand away and opens your car door for you.

“My place,” he tells you before closing the door.

You prepare a dozen different apologies as you stand in his living room, waiting for him to tell you what’s going on.

“Tim-“

He raises his hand to stop you, and asks, “Did you know you got the only card without a free space in the middle?”

“I was riding with you, it probably made it fair.”

“Grey and Lucy worked together.”

“To make the game?”

“To show you that you…” Tim pauses to find the right word. “Tolerate me.”

“I-“

“We’re going to keep going in circles.”

You nod and admit, “It’s what we do.”

Tim pulls a bingo bard from his pocket and says, “This is the one Lucy was going to give you, but apparently she chickened out.”

The card has a red square in the middle, but instead of being a free space it says, Admit it already.

“Tim, I- I told Lucy about my feelings, but I didn't think-"

Tim cuts you off, his hands on either side of your face as he pulls you against him. You silence and look up at Tim as your hands meet his waist.

“Do you tolerate me?” he asks.

“You know I do more than that.”

“Enough for a lifetime of Bradford Bingo?”

You smile, wrap your arms around him, and kiss Tim. His fingers move to the back of your neck, tugging you closer as you melt into one another. Your legs hit the couch as you step back, and Tim spins so he falls back, and you barely manage to catch yourself above him.

“I’m really glad I won,” you pant, holding yourself up on the back of the couch with one hand.

“Maybe Lucy should make another game, one I could win.”

“I don’t have Bradford stereotypes.”

“Not yet.”

You don’t argue but smile before you shift your weight, wrapping your arms around Tim’s shoulders as you lower to meet him.

how about something where peter and reader are having sex but reader gets a bad calf cramp midway. peter tries to help by massaging the leg but he's just laughing really hard. overall v funny and crack. love your work btw!

w: smutty smutty, a little name calling.

Your arms are glued to Peter’s while he thrusts into you, you grip him tightly trying to keep him close. The sheen that covered his body made him both sticky and sweaty. 

“Fuck!” 

The back of your head rubs against his pillow, his hands push higher on the backside of your knees, you’re fully spread open and he continues to push further, you’ve never felt him so deep. 

“Baby, you’re… fuck,” you can’t even compliment him, you’re a million percent cockdrunk at the moment. 

You could kiss your left knee with how high Peter had it pushed up, he grunts at the new angle and thrusts deeper. You shoot out a cry of pleasure, his words come out between clenched teeth. 

“So good, you’re doing so good for me.” 

You whimper and whine along with his praises, you’re so lost your words tumble out. 

“Thank you, thank you, you know me so well.” 

Your boyfriend grunts but a smile takes over, he slows down and puts a hand on your cheek. Your mind races but his touch grounds you a little, you push your hips into his, trying to get back the momentum. 

“Are you thanking me for fucking you?” 

You try to clasp your hands around his neck and he narrowly misses, you roll your hips into his taking control. 

“You were being so nice, now you’re being mean.” 

A sarcastic pout takes over his face, he pushes his body down, anchoring himself into place with an arm by your head, the other hand takes your leg to push it over his hip. In one fluid motion he thrusts into you hard, you lose your breath and gasp against the pillow. 

“This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you hard and deep?” 

He keeps going, drilling in and out and your mind spins with pleasure. 

“C’mon, baby. Said I was being mean, is this better?” 

Your fingernails pierce the skin on his shoulders, your boyfriend's aggressive words made you slicker, you can hear the difference in sounds and know he can feel it on his end. 

“Like that? You like when I make you needy? Like you’re a dirty slut who-” 

A punch to his chest, panicked words usher from your mouth. 

“Out! Get out of me!” 

He didn’t mean to take it that far, he thought you liked it, it felt like you liked it. Peter paused, his motions stopped but he didn't move. 

Your leg had slipped down on his thigh and you were met with a wicked cramp that you needed to step down on to fix it, the pain and pressure was spreading up your thigh, a true life or death moment. You pushed at his chest to get him to move but he was frozen, you let out a yelp and threw his shoulders away the best you could. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” 

More aggressive than you meant but, fuck, charley horses were the worst cramps imaginable. 

Peter finally snaps into motion and pulls out of you quicker than he normally would’ve, you hiss at the feeling but jump from the bed, he watches you with scared eyes. He shouldn’t have said that, called you a dirty slut, he was just talking in the moment. 

The second you’re able to stand you deflate with air, the pulling motion eased. You finally had control of your leg back, it was tender as all hell from being locked up but it was your leg again. Picking it up and pressing your weight back down you felt ready enough to finish what’s been started. 

You flop back down to the bed and open back up, “ready.” 

Peter doesn’t move, you look down at the foot of the bed. His eyes are focused on yours, he looks scared. 

“Are you-” 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and it was a just in the moment thing and I didn’t mean it.” 

You squint your eyes and look at his face, “what?” 

Peter’s arms fly out to cup your face, you have squished cheeks and are forced to look in his eyes as he hovers over you. 

“I don’t think you’re a slut. Like, at all.” 

You bat his hands away, “I didn’t think you did but, thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

Well, now he has no idea why you threw him off. 

“I thought you didn’t like it.” 

You sit up with him, “calling me a slut?” 

A nod, you retraced the steps and let out an “ohhh,” then shake your head and smile at your boyfriend. 

“I had a cramp! I feel like you know how much I liked you saying that.” 

Peter’s hand was thrown over his chest, telling his heart it can stop going so fast. 

“I thought you did, but then I thought I went too far, thank god.” 

You scoff and tilt your leg open more. 

“Not far enough, now give my leg a rub down and fuck me like a dirty slut.” 

His fingers dig into the plush of your calf, already tenderizing the area, “yes, ma’am.” 

The Right Choice - Walt Deville Imagine (The Invitation)

Title: The Right Choice

Pairing: Walt Deville X Reader

Word Count: 1,458 words

Warning(s): presence of a gun

Summary: A glimpse into (Y/n)'s life with Walt after choosing their love and freedom. And the interruption that tried to get in the pair's way.

Author's Note: I need to stop writing for him before I watch this movie. I just can't help it. Look at him.

Part Two to "Freedom" (Read Here)

PART THREE HERE

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

I felt guilty every time I walked into the manor after a hunt.

I would take all the steps I could apart from stripping on the doorstep. I would pull off my shoes, my socks, my jacket. I would place my weapons in a bucket of soap and water that Mr. Field would put out some time before I came home.

But still, with all those steps in place, I felt like I was dragging in pieces of the last hunt. Blood, dirt, sweat. It all sat on my skin like another layer of clothing.

The first time it happened, I felt sick to my stomach the entire night. Walt spent all night soothing me, promising that all he could think of was how thankful he was that I was okay.

He made a habit of meeting me at the door. He would kiss me with no concern for the mess on my clothes and skin. His hands would pull me as close to him as possible. He would barely pull away to mutter out how glad he was to see me.

Now, the guilt seemed to only last as long as I was in the house without Walt greeting me.

He left me to my own devices to shower and get dressed, but the rest of the night would be spent with him almost attached to my side.

He would guide me downstairs to ensure that I ate before going to sleep for a very long time. He'd rarely eat with me. He'd usually entertain himself by my side; asking about the hunt, leaving gentle kisses and touches on my skin to comfort me.

After that, he'd follow me upstairs.

I would lay under the covers. He would sit or lay next to me, refusing to leave until sleep had set in. I only knew that he left after that because I would often wake up on my own. He would be off on his own, taking care of something.

It was such a normal pattern now. After months of staying in the manor, everything felt so easy. Natural.

Walt had given me the freedom, the love that he had promised me all those nights ago.

But of course, true perfection is an unrealistic thing to strive for. Everything was going to have a flaw, a bump, a twist in the story.

It was the day I had gotten home from a hunt. Weapon cleaned, shower taken, food eaten. I had gotten home early enough that my rest had taken most of my day. It was dark by the time my eyes opened again.

It was a rare occasion where Walt was still next to me when I woke up. He was sitting on the bed, leaning his back on the headboard as he read a book. I didn't speak when I woke up. I simply shifted, forcing my head under his arm and onto his chest.

He chuckled at me. "I hope you slept well, my love."

"I always rest better with you next to me," I muttered. "How are you?"

"Better with you safe."

I scoffed a bit at him.

I moved a bit, so my chin was resting on his chest. He grinned down at me. I shifted up, pressing my lips to his. He hummed against my lips, kissing me back.

There was a muffled thump of his book hitting the mattress before his arms wrapped around me, guiding me to straddle his lap. I pulled away a few moments later, resting my forehead against his. His thumbs traced circles on my sides.

"I feel like I should thank you," I mumbled. Walt's eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "I've never felt so... at peace. I finally feel like I'm not running from place to place. I can barely explain how much that means to me. I just... I-"

Any thought I had was stopped when there was a slam downstairs. It was loud enough to echo through the house.

I pushed myself off the bed and opened one of the bedside drawers to grab the gun I had put there.

"When exactly did you put a gun there," Walt asked.

"When I first moved into your room," I shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because I thought sleeping with it under my pillow would worry you," I explained.

I walked out of the room before he could ask any more questions.

I didn't get a few of what was wrong until I got to the top of the stairs.

"Oh no..."

I walked down the staircase as soon as I saw who it was.

My old hunting partner had Mr. Field shoved into the wall, getting in his face and muttering something I couldn't hear.

"What are you doing here," I asked.

My hunting partner stepped back, looking at me in shock. "You're alive."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"I... I came to find you," he stammered out. "Take you home."

"It took you months to find me?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "You're the one who sent me here. It's not like this was some difficult task."

"I... I know," he replied. "Come on, let's go home and we can figure all of this out."

"No."

"What?"

I heard Walt's footsteps walking down the stairs to stand with me.

"I'm not going with you," I explained, shrugging.

"This is your fault," my old partner said, turning his attention to Walt. "How'd you pull that off? How long did it take to get them to repeat you blindly-"

I stepped between the pair of them, pointing the gun at him.

"(Y/n)-"

"I am choosing to stay here on my own," I snapped. "I am free here. I am more than simply useful. I am more than what you convinced me that I was. I am loved. Truly loved. Loved and wanted and desired... all the things you could never make me feel. I stopped following your orders."

His jaw clenched.

"And I'm in love," I muttered. They were almost the same words that had died on my tongue earlier that night. The weight of them still sat on my shoulders and made my heart speed up. "You don't get to take that from me."

"(Y/n), this isn't you-"

"Mr. Field," I said, ignoring his pleas to get me to come back. "Will you escort or... guest out? If he refuses to leave, then you can take whatever steps you see necessary."

"Of course," the older man nodded to me once. "Have a good evening."

"You too," I replied before turning around and walking up the stairs again.

I was almost embarrassed. I didn't want to address anything that had happened. I would've rather curled under the covers and let myself forget that any of this had happened.

The door to the room closed quietly as I put the gun back in the bedside drawer. I took a deep breath before looking at Walt. He stepped over to me with a grin on his face.

"I'm so sorry about what happened," I said. "I don't know why he came here. I assumed he just didn't care. I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he stopped me before reaching up, so his hand cupped the side of my face. "I have no interest in what he did beyond how it hurt you."

"I... I'm okay," I promised.

"You're sure?"

I nodded, grinning a bit.

"Good," he kissed the cheek that his hand hadn't been touching. When he leaned back, he kept his face close to mine. "You're in love with me?"

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I was going to say something earlier, but then everything happened tonight, and I didn't get a chance to. I wanted you to hear it under different circumstances-"

Walt leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him. My hands touched his shoulders as he did.

The kiss was slow, patient. It felt like he was attempting to commit the whole moment to memory as perfectly as he could. Every detail, feeling, moment... every piece of it. At least, that's what my mind was trying to do. I was simply hoping his mind was doing the same.

Walt pulled away slowly. He was smiling at me when I opened my eyes.

"I love you too," he said quietly.

I smiled back as one of my hands moved to rest on the back of his neck, gently playing with his hair.

I had never been so calm in a moment like this. There was no pressure or worry. It was all just love and affection and... perfect.

It was all that I needed to confirm that this was all that I truly needed.

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

Author's Note: My ability to ignore the existence of his wives is truly impressive. Don't worry, I'm doing it intentionally, I'm not just stupid.

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

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A Daughter Who's a Boot

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (3/?)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Tim interrupts your dinner date with Lucy with a cryptic call that leaves you concerned. Lucy stays beside you and you remind Tim that she's important to both of you (and that he cares about her, even if he won't admit it).

Warnings: mention/depiction of domestic terrorism, banter, fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your phone buzzes with a text from Tim while you watch for Lucy. Tonight’s dinner date with Lucy has been planned for weeks, but Tim seemed reluctant to let you go. Whether his sudden borderline clinginess was because you’re spending time with Lucy instead of him or something more, you’re unsure. Regardless of the reason he’s texting, you promise to let him know when you’re on your way home and encourage him to enjoy his time alone. Since you married Tim, he’s grown used to you being around, but you thought he would enjoy a night to himself. It seems you were wrong.

The restaurant door opens again while you place your phone back in your bag. You look up quickly and wave to Lucy, whose smile grows as she rushes to your table.

“I ordered your favorite drink,” you say as she sits across the table.

“Thanks, Mom!” she replies, still smiling.

“Someone is going to think you’re serious and have some intense judgements about me,” you scold playfully.

“How was your day?” Lucy asks, ignoring your faux protest.

“It was pretty good. I’m more interested in how yours was.”

“Busy, but fine. I’ve been counting down the seconds to this dinner, though.”

“We should do it more often.”

“Like your husband would allow that,” Lucy scoffs. “He’s so jealous of me and how much time we spend together.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Tim cares about Lucy just as much as you do, but he has a very different way of showing it. Lucy knows that, but she enjoys teasing him and trying to get under his skin. After the waiter approaches and takes your order, he turns to Lucy. Your phone lights up in your bag, and you politely excuse yourself before you look down to check it. There’s a missed call from Tim that went to voicemail less than a minute ago.

“Tim?” Lucy guesses as the waiter leaves.

“Yeah,” you say, furrowing your brows. “He knows we’re busy.”

Your phone rings again, and this time you answer it immediately.

“Tim?” you ask as the call connects.

“I need you to come home. Now,” Tim says before your phone beeps.

You pull the phone away from your ear, and when a text comes through from Angela, you know Tim is serious.

“I have to go, Lucy. I’m so sorry,” you explain as you gather your things.

“I’m coming with you,” Lucy offers.

“No, Luce-“

“You’re rattled, and now I’m worried too. So, I’m coming with you.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

You leave some cash on the table for your waiter and tell the hostess there’s an emergency as you rush past the greeting stand. Your mind races with what could be this urgent, but you resolve to remain calm and composed as you race to get home.

Lucy walks into your home behind you and nearly runs into you when you stop suddenly. She peeks over your shoulder and sees a map covering your dining table. Tim and Angela are leaning over it, marking seemingly random locations with bright red dots.

Tim looks up, and when he sees Lucy, he tells you, “I told you to come home, not Lucy.”

Lucy opens her mouth to apologize, but you speak before she can.

“Tim, you said to get home and then hung up on me. You should know that she wouldn’t let me leave alone after that. She’s worried, too, so either we both stay, or we both go,” you respond.

Angela gives Tim a that’s your wife look before he sighs and steps toward you. When Tim lifts his arms, you willingly move toward him and let him wrap you in a hug. He apologizes against your shoulder as he rubs a warm hand along your spine.

“So,” you begin as you step out of the hug. “What was the cryptic call about?”

“Interesting question,” Angela muses. “We have enough reason to believe someone is planning a huge attack on downtown LA. Like, they want to level it huge. But we don’t actually have enough evidence to get the FBI involved or do anything about it.”

“Not yet,” Tim adds, glancing at you.

“Of course,” you agree without being asked. “Tell me what to do.”

“Us,” Lucy corrects, stepping to your side. “Tell us what to do.”

“The locations marked in red have the most foot traffic, we think those would be easy targets because no one would be able to see anything,” Tim explains.

“But that doesn’t take into account rooftops, abandoned buildings, flight paths, anything that wouldn’t rely on a diversion,” you deduce.

“Right,” Angela agrees. “But we have a notebook in evidence with some details. Techs are trying to piece it together but they’re not making any progress.”

“Do you have pictures of the notes?” Lucy asks.

“Of course we do, boot. We’re not incompetent, just behind,” Tim answers as he passes a tablet to Lucy.

“Thanks, Dad,” she replies as she scrolls through the pictures.

“Hey, Angela,” you call, ignoring Lucy and Tim bickering behind you. “Can you pass me that stool?”

She nods and brings a stool from your kitchen island to your side. You position it beside the table before you climb to stand atop it.

“Don’t-“ Tim begins, but you’re already up. He sighs as he walks past Lucy and places a hand on the back of your thigh to keep you steady.

You rise to your tiptoes, aware of Tim’s hand pressing against your leg to reassure himself just as much as you, and snap a picture of the map from above. Tim takes your hand as you jump down and examine the angle you photographed.

“Am I seeing things or do the red marks spell something?” you ask, passing your phone to Angela.

You squeeze Tim’s hand, which is still wrapped around yours.

“I can see two letters,” Angela cheers. “D, something, T.”

“A dot,” Lucy fills in, zooming in on a scanned page from the notebook. “It’s marked on a map, looks like 100 Main Street… is that a real address?”

“It’s not a dot, it’s DOT!” you exclaim. “Department of Transportation, D-O-T. Caltrans has a headquarters on South Main, downtown.”

“It wasn’t going to start multi-target,” Tim realizes.

“If they can hit Caltrans, they can take out more than downtown, they can take out all of Los Angeles,” Angela adds.

“I thought traffic was bad now,” you murmur as you join Lucy’s side to view the mastermind’s notes.

“I’m going to alert Caltrans, LADOT, DHS, and anyone else I can get in touch with,” Angela says as she picks up her phone. “Thank you so much for your help. Sorry, I ruined dinner.”

“Tim ruined dinner,” Lucy corrects.

“I’m okay with shifting the blame to him. I’ll see all of you at work.”

“Bye, Ange,” you call after her. You tilt your head to look at Tim while Lucy continues scrolling through evidence pictures.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Seriously?!” you ask incredulously. “You scared me. Calling twice in a row, telling me to get home, and then hanging up on me is not okay.”

Tim nods, seeing just how upset you still are. All because he worried you. The last time you were stressed because of someone close to you was when Lucy accidentally lured a former convict to her apartment. Now, it’s completely Tim’s fault that you feel this way, and he knows he could have gone about it differently. Tim pulls you into his arms and apologizes again before promising never to worry you like that again. It’s not necessarily a promise he can keep, but you know he’ll try. You nod against his chest and wrap your arms tighter around his waist.

“Hey, maybe I’m worried about you too, Dad,” Lucy interrupts. “Can I get in on the hug?”

“No,” Tim answers shortly. “But thank you for coming.”

“No problem.” Lucy smiles at you and says, “Goodnight, Mom. Call if you need a break from him.”

“Goodnight, Lucy. Thanks for everything,” you reply. You release Tim to hug Lucy before she leaves.

When she returns the hug, Lucy whispers, “Is Tim a good hugger?”

“No,” you lie quietly. “He’s the worst.”

“I knew it.”

Lucy leaves, and when your front door closes behind her, you turn to Tim, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“If I’m such a bad hugger, you can live without another one,” he says.

“We may fight all the time, but you need me, Bradford,” you reply.

Tim stares into your eyes before he pulls you roughly into his arms and kisses your forehead.

“Hey, since you interrupted my dinner with Lucy, I’m crashing your breakfast with her next week,” you threaten lightly.

“I’m ditching her,” Tim replies. “Breakfast with you sounds a whole lot better.”

“She’s our daughter, Tim, you’re gonna have to learn to get along with her eventually.”

Tim pulls back and cups your face before he explains, “She’s a boot, not a daughter. Keep that straight.”

“Sure,” you agree. “Just remember that next time she’s in danger and you call me panicking.”

Tim releases you and steps back dramatically as he accuses, “Traitor. Kojo, let’s go somewhere we’re appreciated.”

Hearing his name, Kojo trots into the room with you and sits beside your feet. He looks up at you and wiggles happily as you reach down to pet him.

“You’re outnumbered, Bradford,” you remind Tim. “And you love us.”

Tim returns to your side and distracts you from Kojo as he kisses you. “I do love you,” he says against your lips. “Remember that.”

Little Star

18+

A high school reunion, a sexually frustrated lawyer, and a secret pornstar. This should be fun.

My submission to Aphrodite’s Manor Challenge <3 (and my first ever challenge submission 🥺)

@geminixevans-stan @fineanddandy @jamalflanagan @cocobutterqwueen @syntheticavenger @sunshinexsin @boxofbonesfic

Content Warning: Andy Barber x Pornstar!Reader, mature themes, flirting, sexual language, cheating, smut (dom!andy x sub!reader, multiple orgasms, public sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, spanking, facial)

“I cannot believe you made me come back to this place,” You grumble, running your finger around the rim of your martini glass. “Nothing but bad memories.”

“Oh, come on,” Yanic coos, squeezing your shoulder as he leans in closer. “High school wasn’t that bad.”

“Maybe not for you,” You say with a glare. “You were in with the popular kids. You were practically a jock!”

“Being kept on the bench every single game hardly made me a jock,” He chuckles. “You had some fun here, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but smirk. “I guess senior prom was pretty fun.”

“Didn’t you fuck Andy Barber under the bleachers that night?” He asks with wide eyes. “Now, that was unexpected.”

Keep reading

First Day to Live

After Last Day to Live

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: Tim leads you into forever together, making the first day of the rest of your life perfect.

Warnings/Word Count: 1.1k+ words of fluff

A/N: Thank you @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for this idea! It was supposed to be a blurb but I got carried away😅 | Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

You sigh, rolling your stiff shoulder forward as you push the door closed behind you. After you set your bag aside, you walk farther into the house, listening for Tim. He’s off work today and the rest of the weekend. After the last few days of being in the field with your team, you’re looking forward to a quiet weekend with him. 

As you enter the kitchen, Tim looks up from the counter. He’s got a dish towel tossed over his shoulder, and your favorite food is cooking behind him. 

“You’re the best,” you sigh, smiling as you lean against the end of the cabinets. 

Tim smiles, but his eyes flit between your shoulders and your face. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You’re favoring your right arm,” he points out. He sets his utensil aside and then wipes his hands on the towel as he walks toward you. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “It’s fine though, just a little stiff.”

“From?” Tim asks, brushing his fingers lightly over your collarbone toward your left shoulder. 

You shiver under his touch and unconsciously lean closer to him. “I landed on it. The impact rolled it a little. Might bruise overnight, but nothing serious.”

Tim smiles and repeats, “From?”

Sighing, you answer, “Street, Tan, and I had to jump off a roof.”

“You jumped off a roof and it’s nothing serious?”

“Tim,” you say, laying your hands against his chest. “It was a patio roof and we landed in soft dirt. We’re fine. The alternative was way worse.”

“The explosion this morning,” Tim remembers. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Remember my promise?” you ask. 

“The promise to think about the outcome before you act? Yeah, and clearly you considered all the possibilities of jumping off a roof.”

You smile at his sarcastic tone, but you both know you did what you had to do. There were no self-sacrificial motives, no better options, and a stiff shoulder truly is the best outcome you could have had. Tim cares about you, and you’ve been more thoughtful about what you do since he accused you of treating every day like it was the last to live. You want to come home to him… and you don’t want to get yelled at again. 

“I’ve got ibuprofen in my system,” you say. “So I’m ready for anything.”

“No, you’re not,” Tim argues. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“I can smell that,” you reply, smiling brightly. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Tim taps your waist softly, then directs you to change. He’s already put your favorite comfortable outfit in the bathroom. You return to the kitchen once you’re ready for a night in. Tim is putting prepared plates on two trays, and you lift your brows. 

“What are we doing?” you ask. 

“Follow me.”

You take Tim’s hand, following him to the back door. He leads you to the patio, and your jaw drops when you see the evening he’s prepared for you.

“This is amazing,” you murmur, looking at the decorations and comfortable setup beneath the Los Angeles sunset. 

“That’s all you,” Tim replies, gently patting his front pocket.

Tim pushes your sleeve out of the way to look at your shoulder before he pulls you against his side. Every moment you spend with Tim is perfect, but a quiet evening is what you both need. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Tim asks. 

You look toward him, and he gestures to Kojo, sprawled across Tim’s lap and keeping him in place. 

“Sure,” you answer. 

“Can you get some socks out of my drawer?”

Pinching your brows, you remain in place and stare at Tim. 

“Please?” he adds softly, brushing his hand over your hair. 

You nod, despite his odd request, and stand. Kojo grunts behind your back, but you don’t turn around as you pull Tim’s drawer open. You reach for a pair of socks but stop when you see a small black box atop the neatly rolled socks. 

“Tim?” you ask softly, lifting the box. “What is this?”

You turn as you speak, not expecting to see Tim smiling up at you on one knee. He nods toward the box, and you inhale shakily as you open it. The ring inside is perfect. Pressure builds in your eyes as you run your finger over it. 

“I love you,” Tim begins. “And I don’t want to live another day without you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Every moment at your side is like a breath of fresh air.” He smiles, taking the ring box. With the ring in his fingers, he tosses the velvet box aside. “I love you with every part of me. Will you marry me?”

You don’t answer, but Tim’s smile grows as you sink to your knees before him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He removes your left arm from his neck, lowering it gently before he cups your chin in his hand and kisses you. 

“I love you,” you reply. “You are all of my tomorrows. You make every day feel like the beginning.”

“Is that a yes?” Tim asks. 

“It’s a yes. It will be a yes every day for the rest of our lives.”

Tim slides the ring carefully onto your finger before he kisses you again. Kojo whines from the bed, and Tim chuckles against your lips before he lifts you into his arms as he stands. On the bed, you pull back and press your forehead against Tim’s. 

“Wait, that’s why you mentioned your sock drawer?!” you exclaim. 

“I thought you took away my chance to propose,” Tim defends. “It slipped out.”

“You… I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Kojo pushes his head between your stomach and Tim to rest in your lap. You pet him, looking down at your engagement ring as Tim moves to your side. 

“You know how to plan a proposal, Mr. Bradford,” you applaud. 

“I try. You made it pretty easy.”

“So you mean my reckless behavior didn’t interfere?” you tease. 

“Which one of us jumped off a roof today?”

“Street jumped first.” Tim rolls his eyes, and you seize the opportunity to mess with him. “Did you ask Deacon for his blessing?”

Tim’s eyes widen comically. “Should I have? I mean, I know you’re close, but-“

“No,” you interrupt with a laugh. “It was perfect. You’re perfect.”

“And we’ll be perfect tomorrow,” Tim adds. “Maybe this can be the first day to live. The first day or forever.”

“Tim!” you exclaim, moving carefully to hold his face. “You said something romantic!”

“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, softening under your affection. 

“You’re going to be my husband, that means I get what I want. I stop being reckless and you start being like this all the time. Deal?”

Tim kisses you rather than shaking your offered hand. As it grows later, you look forward to a new day, a new beginning, and forever at Tim’s side. 

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Two)

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part two of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks, difficult relationship with dad!Giles, reader doesn't like Buffy much.

You did, it turns out, like Spike in a way you hadn’t realised until you had spent some time with him. It made sense now, all the time you had tried talking to him and clinging onto the small amount you had learnt about him while he stayed with you for all those months. The amount of Passions you watched just to spend time with him.

He fascinated you, made you feel at ease in a way that no one ever had, despite the casual threats of death.

You knew, however, that if you stayed where you wanted to be, with Spike, there could be trouble. Not only with the Scoobies. You were still hurt by what had happened with your father. You felt like a failure, you had never meant to lose the jobs or disappoint your Dad.

You just hated the expectations he had and the pressure he had always laid on so thick and it made you want something completely different. What this different thing was, however, you weren’t sure.

You were sitting on a stone tomb, watching as Spike walked towards you, slamming himself down beside you while he waited the last agonising minutes for the sun to rise.

“What’s happening in that mind of yours?” He asked, using two fingers to tap his own temple. He had caught you staring into the distance again, reliving that horrible moment with your father.

“What do you mean?”

“Can tell there’s something up from a mile away” He shook his head adding, “Not that I care much that is”

“I feel like a bad person” you sighed, folding in on yourself.

“You ain’t bad, believe me, I know bad”

“Maybe I haven’t killed anyone like you but if I was a good person, Dad wouldn’t have-” You started to let your mouth run as fast as your thoughts, before he cut you off, a flash of anger behind his eyes at how you had been made to feel.

“Don’t start with all that rot, what dear Rupert did was evil even by my standards. If anything, love, you’re painfully average verging on boring” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke.

“Thanks, I actually really needed that,” You laughed through the tears that had started to well in your eyes. You paused for a moment, before asking, “I don’t think you’ve ever spoken to me this much. Why wouldn’t you talk to me at Dad’s?”

“Couldn’t risk it”

“What do you mean?” Your words caught in your throat as you asked.

“Well, you know, send in the pretty one to play good cop and all that crap” he explained, elaborating that he had thought that you were playing him to get information out of him about the Initiative for Buffy and the others.

You smiled softly at the way he spoke about you. You sat in silence for a while, smiling at him softly, leaning back against the threadbare sofa. He did the same, lying back, his head turned towards you until there were mere inches between you.

He was watching your lips curve in that way he found so pleasing. It made him feel something deep within, a tensing, a fluttering of something he couldn’t describe. God, how he wanted to lean into you, press his lips against you. But he couldn’t let himself go there. He didn’t like Watchers or Slayers. In fact, he hated you. Yep, definitely. Hate. That was what this was.

Later on, after you had stayed for a couple more days, you began to worry that you had outstayed your welcome but he had never actually asked you to leave. It had been confirmed to you as Spike burst through from the lower level of the crypt and kicked some of your old clothes you had set aside to go to a laundromat later.

“Bloody crap everywhere! Can’t move for all your human bollocks” He kicked a bag that was leaking clothes onto the floor. You had sneaked back into your Dad’s place to grab more of your stuff and had overheard him on the phone to someone, once again assassinating your character.

“You’re right. I should probably find something more human-y and permanent” You shrugged, “Thanks for, uh, letting me stay and all”

“Where you gonna go?” He stopped what he had been doing, his brow furrowing in that way that you found so cute. His head cocked to the side as he asked the question.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find something”

“Can’t have that, love, stay until you’ve got somethin’ more proper figured out”

“You want me to stay?”

“’S not that. You could be eaten up tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a toss,” He insisted, slightly more half-heartedly than normal, “Just wouldn’t be right to see you out when you’re perfect bait for anything nasty that walks it’s way in”

It was true, the two instances that a demon had found their way into the crypt, they had made straight for you. Thus, ignoring Spike and letting him gain the upper hand on them both.

His eyes lit up at the way you smiled at his words. Despite the cruel appearance of his words, they made you smile. You had found yourself fond of his threats, his way with words. You had it bad. He drank in your form, eyes lingering first on your lips then slowly along your cheek and before slowly moving to meet your eyes.

He snapped himself away, after spending too long with that unmoving gaze. He snatched up his book and began to read by candlelight sat on one of the stone tombs, again waiting for the sun to set so that he could grab some blood and other necessities.

You stayed on the sofa, lying back and thinking about everything that had brought you to this point.

The turning of the pages and the soft candlelight, the occasional whisper of Spike’s voice as he murmured words that he was reading under his breath. It made you yawn, eventually slipping into a slumber. The atmosphere made you feel so comfortable, comfort in such a way that you had never experienced before. You weren’t afraid of being attacked or judged for your decisions. You didn’t have any pressure or expectations to live up to.

You felt… safe.

After placing a blanket over your sleeping form, Spike decided to make a little trip out. He needed to get a few things, he was starting to enjoy having a roommate. Especially one that he found so attractive. Not that he particularly let himself think on this for too long. He was trying so desperately to stop the feelings from growing, denying it the light of day to bloom.

You hadn’t noticed it to begin with, the way that the crypt started to resemble something not far from cosy. There was a tv set, a little makeshift bar with a fridge and it had been decorated with fairy lights and he had even sourced a real mattress for your room on the lower level. It was split into two, Spike had the bigger room, his explanation was that he deserved it being the only one providing for the house while you tried to find a job. 

After a couple of months, you and Spike had been dancing around feelings that had started to grow, not that either of you recognised that the other felt the same. Spike could be grumpy and still often threatened to drink from your brainstem if you left a mess around the place. He was surprisingly particular about how his home was made, especially considering that you were in a crypt and half of it was covered in cobwebs.

“Fancy a proper drink then, pet?” He asked one night.

 You had grown fond of the pet names and smiled at his words, you would never have thought your relationship with Spike would become something akin to a friendship. You adored him and allowed yourself brief daydreams where you reached for more.

“I haven’t got any money, Spike, you know that”

“On me”

“I don’t like being in debt to people”

“I’m sure we can work out some kind of repayment” He arched his eyebrow suggestively before snatching up his leather duster and gesturing for you to follow him.

Turns out, there was no repayment necessary as Spike stole the liquor and two glasses from behind the bar and topped up your drinks all night. You never thought you would feel so normal drinking in a demon bar. You did get a few suspicious looks but when Spike glared back they assumed that he was just going to eat you later himself.

You sat in a booth, leaning into him so you could hear what he was saying over the music that was playing. He told you all sorts of stories about his ‘glory days’ and you hung onto every word. You could tell he was exaggerating some of them to impress you and it only made you enjoy them more.

“Spike?” You asked quietly after a while.

“Mm?”

“Is this a date?” You asked, eyes not able to meet his. You instead pretended to find the contents of your glass incredibly interesting.

“Depends, love”

“On?”

“If-” He started, never able to finish what he had been about to let slip. Luckily or unluckily, depending on which mood he was in, he didn’t have chance because a gang slammed the entrance open and started to smash the place up.

He immediately got up and positioned himself in front of you, blocking you from the threat. He smirked and rolled his eyes when he saw you get up and stand beside him in his peripheral.

They were clearly looking for someone that wasn’t you, but when their eyes did land on you it was all that they were interested in. It was the Scoobies. They had clearly heard some edited version of why you had left from your father as they looked at you with suspicion.

“I should have known that you would sink as low as this. To dance with depravity like this is truly reprehensible” Your father spoke first as the other three whispered to each other.

“Spike’s done more for me in the last month than any of you put together. These people haven’t done anything to you-”

“Apart from the fact that they’re not people, they’re demons,” Buffy reminded you. You ignored her.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore Giles, I don’t care that I’ve disappointed you and I don’t care that you think I’m all “evil” now for having a couple of drinks in a demon bar. Surely someone that was educated so well couldn’t be so stupid?!” You rolled your eyes

“Y/n-”

“Take your Slayer and go” You warned. They had just been looking for information anyway, Giles decided to do as you said (for probably the first time in your life). What you had said affected him. He had been visibly taken aback before you watched him walk back with the rest of the Scooby gang.

The bartender announced free drinks for everyone to celebrate their unlife lasting at least another night now that the Slayer had left. You weren’t exactly feeling it anymore though, so you both left.

You assumed Spike was going to say something mean in answer to your questioning that had been interrupted. But he truly had almost said it had been a date. If you had wanted it to be. He would have done anything, so long as it had made you happy. He knew this now. Knew for certain his desire, his love, was a force that could not be curtailed. The way you had stood up for yourself, even for him. He was used to the insults that were hurled his way by Buffy and the others. He had forgotten what it was like to have someone in his corner.

He was doing that thing again, watching you with that look. The one that told you he knew you, could see directly into your soul. The one you would so gladly offer up to him had he asked.

You were grateful for his presence beside you as the adrenaline from the argument still draining from your body slowly. It had still not properly subsided by the time you both arrived home.

Home.

Funny how a place like this could make you feel such relief. It was simple, but you had never felt that way coming ‘home’ before.

You stood close, his face close to yours, so close that you could smell him. Thick smoke and some kind of cologne that you had never noticed before. You leaned in further, not knowing if it was leftover adrenaline or just pure need, you caught his lips with yours.

He had been leaning towards you at the same moment, his hand sliding up your arm, lingering against your neck. He cradled your neck as his lips moved to meet yours. He pressed himself against you, desperate and wanting. Needing your touch, your kiss. Your everything.

His touch made your kiss deepen, you pulled his shirt, balling it in your fists as you tried to pull him even closer. He tasted good. Too good.

You moved away from him, breaking the sweet contact you had been wanting for so long now. You stepped back again, telling him to go and make himself comfortable. You needed to grab a few things and that you would be back.

“Bloody tease!” he called after you playfully as he did what you had said. He’d have listened to anything you had said to do that again. To touch your body so intimately. It had been all he had fantasised about. All he had been consumed by.

You didn’t immediately understand why you did it.

Why you left the crypt and didn’t look back, walking away into the night.

Leaving him waiting for your return.