𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

Lonely in Misery

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here: Lonelier in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.

Warnings: mention of motorcycle accident, pure fluff (the title and summary are misleading, my bad)

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: @newobsessionweekly here's some soft Tim if you're interested🥰

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Let’s go!” your chief calls. “Motorcycle accident on Wilshire.”

You nod as you gather your equipment. Being a paramedic is stressful, but you work with an amazing team. It’s too bad you don’t have the same kind of community in your personal life. Working with your best friends is great until you can’t hang out or talk to anyone because they’re on different shifts.

“Single rider?” you ask as you climb into the ambulance.

“Dispatch didn’t say. Only called for one ambulance, so I assume,” your chief replies.

“Hey, maybe it’ll be a single guy and you can nurse him back to health and finally get a date,” your teammate in the driver’s seat jokes.

“Ignore him,” Bailey says, rolling her eyes.

“Ignore who?” you tease.

As the BLS rescue ambulance pulls out, you sit back in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asks softly.

“Fine,” you reply. “Just… I don’t know.”

“I get it. We, uh, we haven’t been able to hang out in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Work, eat, workout, sleep, repeat.”

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of mopey.” She reaches her hand toward you and smiles when you lay your hand in hers. “This job is hard enough without being lonely. Why don’t you go on a date or just go hang out somewhere, meet somebody?”

You shake your head and brush off her concern with a half-true promise, “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to when our schedules give us time to be friends again. If I can get out away from Nolan, of course.”

Bailey smiles and rolls her eyes but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You know she isn’t convinced that you’re fine. Your job is more important, though, so you decide to focus on the motorcycle rider who needs your help rather than the empty home, the empty life you’ll go home to after your shift ends.

“Hey!” Tim yells harshly. “Socialize on your own time, boot!”

His new rookie ducks his head and walks quickly after abandoning his conversation. Tim has been grumpier than usual lately, and he’s taking it out on everyone in the station. When he yelled at Sergeant Grey, who only shook his head and told Tim to take a breather, Nolan knew what was happening.

“He’s lonely, right?” Nolan asks Angela.

“Incredibly,” she answers without hesitation. “It’s been worse, though, so his sports buddies must have gotten busy, married, something.”

Nolan nods. He has an idea, but he knows better than to suggest Tim go on a date where he could overhear or be told. As he walks toward his shop, Nolan makes a mental note to ask Bailey if she knows anyone who would be willing to go on a date with Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Do I look like I care about your engagement party?” Tim asks across the garage.

“Hey,” Nolan says as he walks into the house.

“Hi,” Bailey replies.

Nolan hugs Bailey and sighs against her.

“I need your help with something,” Bailey says.

“Anything,” Nolan replies as he steps back. “But I need a favor, too.”

“My best friend is lonely and needs a date.”

Nolan’s brows raise as he adds, “My coworker is lonely and needs a date.”

“Did we just plan a blind date in under thirty seconds? Are we really that good?”

“Depends. Is your friend interested in someone like Tim Bradford?”

Bailey considers the pairing for a moment but smiles as she pictures you balancing Tim and him providing an edge that you haven’t experienced in years.

“Oh, yeah,” Bailey decides. “She’ll be interested.”

“Great! Now I just have to convince him to actually go on the date,” Nolan muses.

“Good luck.” Bailey laughs before she realizes, “I have to get her to let me set her up too.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Tim, appeal to her misery.”

“Yeah, because it’s better than absolutely nothing and complete unhappiness is the perfect way to pitch a date,” Bailey scoffs. “I’ll get my friend there, and you convince Tim your way.”

“I hope this works,” they say together.

“What’d you do last night?” Bailey asks as you exit the locker room.

You step back in surprise at being ambushed the moment you arrive but recover quickly. “I made dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed. Why?”

“Because you’ve got a date tonight, so we’re switching it up.”

“Bailey,” you begin.

“No, no, hear me out before you decline. Please? I’m doing this as your best friend, I promise.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Pitch this guy. But, Bailey Nune, if you say it’s Nolan’s brother Pete I will find a new best friend.”

“Oh, no. I love you, I would never do that. Besides, the whole point of a blind date is that I don’t tell you the guy’s name. But…” She raises her finger to emphasize as she adds, “Nolan and I both know him well and he’s a great guy.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more. I don’t want to go on a date just to say that I didn’t spend another night alone, Bailey.”

“Completely. I know you, though, okay, and this guy he’s- he can do and be everything you want. The romance, the connection, the best friend that is also your life partner, what you are looking for in a guy, this is it. I promise. And, if I’m wrong, I’ll bail you out of the date and I will clean your equipment for the rest of the month.”

You purse your lips as you think about her offer. She does know exactly what you want in a man, and you trust Bailey’s judgement. “Fine. I’ll go on the date.”

“Yes!” Bailey cheers as she hugs you. “I’m so glad. You’ll feel so much better after you’re not miserable and lonely anymore.”

“You should’ve been a motivational speaker,” you deadpan. “Now don’t mention it again until we get off. This can’t be the topic of conversation for the rest of the day; I’ll never live it down.”

“I’ll stay quiet and think of the perfect outfit for you,” Bailey says as she follows you into the heart of the station.

“Officer Bradford,” Nolan calls as he walks across the bullpen.

“Yeah?” Tim asks.

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Or a question, idea, whatever you want to call it.”

“Then spit it out, Nolan.”

“Right, yes, sir. Bailey has a single friend, and we want to set you up on a blind date.”

Tim’s face remains impassive as he shakes his head. “Pass. Ask Aaron.”

“No, Tim, I’m asking you.”

“And I’m not interested,” Tim argues.

“Look, you’re lonely and miserable, so you’re making all of us miserable. I know you – sort of – and I know this woman. She could be really good for you.”

“If you’re wrong? Because I think you are.”

“Then leave the date! You’re not losing anything more than a few hours.”

Tim takes a deep breath before he asks, “Why do you think she’d be good for me?”

“She can be the balance that you need, and she understands some of what we deal with daily.”

“Don’t tell me she’s a lawyer.”

“Oh, no, I know better than that. So… is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes,” Tim answers. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Tim nods once before he walks away to reprimand a rookie. Nolan watches him yell and hopes that he and Bailey are right. Because if they’re wrong and the date goes poorly, Tim will be worse in the morning.

You sit in the front of the restaurant and await your date. Bailey said he’d arrive after you. She never explained how you were supposed to find each other, though. As you watch people come and go, you grow discouraged. You shift your attention from the door to your hands. Several minutes pass before the door opens again, and you look up but don’t expect anything.

“Tim?” you ask.

You’ve seen Tim Bradford several times in passing. At wrecks, crime scenes, and various Los Angeles law enforcement meetings. He’s always been kind to you, and you remember that you may have mentioned finding him attractive to Bailey before.

“I’ll assume you’re my blind date, then,” Tim replies. He smiles as he adds, “I’m not as disappointed as I expected to be.”

“Wow,” you say through laughter. “If I’d known you were such a flirt, I would’ve asked Bailey to set us up sooner.”

Tim shakes his head, and you join his side as he gives his name to the hostess. As you walk to the table, a sudden awkwardness descends. There’s no good way to begin a conversation on a blind date, you realize. Tim takes his hand against the menu but looks similarly lost about what to say.

“I guess being lonely and desperate worked in my favor,” you joke.

“Oh, I can guarantee that I was lonelier and more desperate,” Tim replies. “Nolan used that to convince me to come tonight; said I was making everyone else miserable with my misery.”

The mood lightens with your playful jokes, and you smile at Tim.

“Since you’ve had to pull an arson suspect off me before, should we skip the small talk?” you ask Tim over your menu. “Or do this the normal way?”

“There’s nothing normal about this,” Tim comments.

Your phone buzzes in your bag, but the Are you still miserable? text from Bailey goes unread.

“Okay, I hate this,” you murmur as you set the menu aside. “Can I just sit beside you?”

Tim’s smile grows as he stands and offers his hand. Once you’re seated beside him, where you don’t have to lean across the table to talk, you don’t even remember the miserable feeling that led Bailey to set this date up.

Tim leans over to whisper, “I’m glad I agreed to the date,” and you move closer to him as you answer, “Me too.”

As you walk out of the restaurant with your hand in Tim’s and a joyful smile on your face, you don’t want the night to end.

“Same time next week?” you ask as Tim slows.

“What about the same time another day this week?” he suggests. “I had a great time, and I want to go out again. If that’s what you want, of course.”

You pull your phone out and hand it to Tim, ignoring Bailey’s text. He puts his number in and texts himself, so he has your number, too. You grow giddy, something you thought was a thing of your past.

“I think this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you tell Tim as you begin walking again. “Thank you.”

“Nolan and Bailey are gonna take credit if we tell them the blind date worked,” Tim points out.

“Yeah,” you agree, drawing out the word. “But I don’t think I can hide how happy tonight made me. Not from Bailey, at least.”

Tim nods like he understands as you stop. You turn to face him, and he raises the hand that isn’t in yours to hold your cheek. There isn’t a question or doubt in your mind as you kiss Tim. What was supposed to be a date to cheer you up and get you back out of your mundane, lonely life is already becoming so much more. As Tim releases your hand to hold you and pull you closer, your entire world brightens. Neither you nor Tim are lonely, let alone miserable, with the prospect of a new relationship with one another. You pull back when you can’t stop smiling against Tim’s lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“All of it.”

Tim smiles and brushes his thumb under your bottom lip. “If I don’t see you before Friday, I’m looking forward to our date. And I’ll pick you up at the fire station.”

“Are you sure about that?” you question. “Bailey will tell John.”

“They’ll have to learn sooner rather than later that there’s no room for them in our relationship.”

Your smile grows at our relationship, but you lick your lips to keep your excitement from showing. “They’re both born meddlers.”

“Let’s stop talking about them,” Tim murmurs as he leans in again.

Bonus:

When you arrive home, you see the text from Bailey and answer: More miserable than you can imagine. I’m going to sleep to escape it. Sure, you left off the part about being sad because the date ended, but she’ll find out soon enough.

Venom To The Rescue- Venom/Eddie Brock x Reader

Summary: Venom comes to readers rescue when she’s harassed by John Walker

Word Count: 1, 710

CW: *does have a scene of sexual harassment so TW for that*

*Want to be tagged in any future Venom/Eddie fics? Click here*

The excess room in the transport van was much appreciated, as you, Eddie and Venom travelled to meet the famous Avengers. Eddie stayed with you for most of the journey, but Venom wanted to take over every now and then, complaining that he wanted to see you and that he was bored.

You knew the main reason for the van was to act as a somewhat transport cage for Venom, especially with the armed guards behind you and one in the passenger seat, but you understood.

Being with Eddie and Venom for the past two years and seeing what Venom could do, you completely understand peoples caution. Venom tried to act innocent and like he didn’t understand the need for armed guards, but he knew why, and you think deep down he was a little proud.

“Are we almost there?” Venom continued to complain.

“I think we’re pulling in now, Vee,” you smile sweetly and patiently at the large alien.

“Mr. Brock, it might be best for you to be the one to meet with the Avengers first,” the armed guard in front of you informed.

“What?! That’s not fair!”

The guards pulled their guns, and Venom smiled wide as he licked his fangs, obviously excited for a fight. You knew this was stressing Eddie out and that Venom could easily take these guys out, so to calm the situation you gently placed your hand on Venoms bicep.

“Hey, V, think of it this way, they see Eddie first and think it’s fine, and then when the times right you can make a big appearance, wowing and scaring everyone.”

You always knew how to stroke Venoms ego to make him behave.

“Very well,” he simply spoke as he let Eddie come back.

Seeing Eddie’s face and body once again, you both sighed a sigh of relief. Holding onto Eddie’s hand tightly, you see the van is slowing down and a woman in a professional looking pants suit and tablet is ready waiting for you.

Giving Eddie’s hand a last squeeze of encouragement, you both step out of the vehicle.

“You must be Eddie and Y/N, welcome to the Avengers headquarters. My name is Maria Hill, and I’ll be introducing you and ah- your friend to the team.”

Maria was sweet, although you could tell a little nervous. You and Eddie knew that the Avengers had seen lots of different and dangerous things, but it seems Venom is still a challenge for them.

Walking down the halls to the planned meeting area, Maria is pointing out different things about the building, where things are, what things do, who certain people are.

As you’re all about to step into the elevator together, you hear someone running over.

“Hey, hold the elevator!” You hear someone yell.

Turning around to look at who the voice belongs to, you notice it is no other than John Walker, aka Fake Cap, as you, Eddie and Venom call him. You knew you’d most likely encounter him today, and you all had to prepare each other to meet him, and be on your best behaviours.

“Ah, John good to see you,” Maria told him, obviously trying to hide a wince, “this is Eddie and Y/N. Eddie is a new potential recruit and Y/N is his partner.”

At hearing you were dating Eddie, something seemed to pass John’s eyes, a look of both intrigue and mischief, but whatever it was, it put you on edge.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke only to you as he stepped into the elevator with you, a little close for your liking.

Eddie put his arm around your waist and you could hear Venom growl. Eddie and Venoms protection of you seemed to amuse him, as he smiled creepily, and his eyes leered at you.

Facing the doors for the rest of the lift ride, you could still feel John’s eyes on you the whole time. Eddie’s grip on you got tighter and tighter as you could tell he was trying to hold back Venom.

You comforted them as they protected you.

Walking into the large lab-like room, the rest of the team stood around an area that was no doubt designed for Venom to show himself. Venom had a crowd and a podium, this is exactly what your little drama queen wanted.

After Maria had introduced you to the anxious group of heros, you let go of Eddie and encouraged him to step forward.

While you watched Venom appear through Eddie, you tried to ignore the way John’s eyes obviously bore into you, as if he was studying your actions. Venom stood to full height and waved at you like a kid at a talent show, your wave back seemed to interest John as his stare became even more intense.

Luckily for everyone, Venom was a little too busy showboating to notice how close John now stood to you.

“Alright, Vee, I think that’s enough, sweetheart, time to bring Eddie back,” you called to him as you could see he was getting a little too excited.

Being with both Eddie and Venom could be challenging sometimes, especially when Venom acted like a toddler, but you knew there was more to him than that. You knew how to wrangle him in, and he knew how to make you laugh and look after you.

The team seemed almost amazed that you could bring him back so easily, but the amazement quickly turned to relief as Eddie appeared again. Everyone parted for Eddie to stand beside you, except for Maria, who had most likely practised keeping her cool, this kid Peter who was more excited then scared, and of course, John.

“Alright well, if it’s alright with you Y/N, we’d like to talk with Eddie in private now. Please feel free to wait in the common room I showed you and we’ll come get you once we’re finished.”

You felt a little worried to leave your boys alone, but you made sure to give Eddie a comforting hug and whisper a stern ‘behave’ into Eddie’s ear, before you left.

********

The common room was nice, it was about midway up the tower with large glass windows to see all over the city. After such a long trip it was to your delight that the room was empty, so you could have any of the big comfy couches all to yourself.

Once you made yourself a drink from one of the fancy machines in the kitchen area, you got yourself comfortable and began to read with your warm drink.

It seemed the meeting with Eddie was taking longer than you thought it would, as you finish a chapter and your drink. Standing up you decide to go back to the kitchen to get a cool drink of water. Unfortunately as you turn toward the kitchen however, you almost run into John.

Seeing him alone, and now standing so close, you try your best to calm your breathing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting?” You asked, trying your best to sound pleasant.

Instead of answering, he simply gave you a sly shrug and smile, as he pushed you against a table, trapping you between it and him.

“What the fuck, John?”

You try your best to shove him off, but it’s no use. Looking into his eyes with fear, his stare only appears predatory as one of his hands rests on your hip.

“What? You’re not gonna call me ‘sweetheart’ like you did with the monster? Hmm? Pretty thing like you dating both a man and a monster. What Brock not man enough for you? Need a monster to fuck you too? You really are a kinky little bitch. I like that.”

You were petrified, frozen in fear, as you prepared for him to kiss or grab you, but it never came. Instead you feel his body weight leave yours, and you see him thrown around the room.

Venom lets out a loud growl as he pinned him against the wall by his neck.

“How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you touch her!”

Still frozen from shock, you can’t move to stop him, and it seems like none of the rest of the team want to do anything either. John thrashes about in Venoms grip, and the team look like they’re trying to work out if and how to save him.

“This guys growing on me, I say we let him join,” Bucky laughs to Sam, everyone’s attention on Venom and not you.

Sam simply rolls his eyes at his friend and groans, realising he’s the one who has to stop all this.

“Alright, I think he’s had enough, big guy.”

You knew Sam wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and you didn’t want someone innocent being hurt by Venom.

“Venom!” You finally find your voice and call out.

You try to think of more to say, but as he and Eddie look at your trembling form, it’s enough for him to stop.

“My sweet,” Venom strides over to you, with each step he turns back into Eddie.

“Let’s get you outta here, sweetheart,” Eddie’s hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Um huh hmm, Eddie and Y/N, if you’d like to follow me, I can show you to a room for you to stay for the night,” Maria awkwardly interrupted, attempting to soothe the situation.

As if in a numb state, you simply followed Eddie while he gently drags you along. You seem to zone out the whole trip there, until you hear a buzz of your door opening.

“Come on, baby. Get you into bed and I’ll hold you.”

Eddie gently pulls you into the room, and begins to make you comfortable. Sweetly laying you down on the double bed, he takes off your shoes and socks, pulls the covers over you and crawls into bed on the other side of you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he gentle coaxes as he opens his arms.

The second you lay on his warm chest, a floodgate of tears fall down your face, and the fear and anxiety hits you all at once.

“I’m sorry, baby. We love you so much,” Eddie coos as he rocks you, safe in his arms.

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.”

Hello! I don't know if you're still taking requests, but if you do, could I please request an imagine where the reader and eddie are best friends and the reader gets really injured when Venom is in a fight, bonus points if eddie has to do cpr to revive her. Thank you so so much!

~Hazard of Our Friendship~

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: drowning mention, knives, graphic depictions of violence

Genre: fluffy angst

Summary: Your best friend has a symbiotic alien sharing his body which means sometimes he gets attacked while you're just trying to discuss a movie.

A/N: Oh darling my asks are always open~! xo hope you like it!

***

You scoff as you listen to Eddie talk. You can't believe what he's saying.

"You're crazy! You seriously think that was better than the second one?" You ask incredulously.

"I think each movie gets better than the last." Eddie says.

"What're you smoking and how do I get some because you are clearly on something." You snort.

"I liked it I don't see the problem." He shrugs.

"That's not the question though! I liked it too but it's NOT better than the second one was!" You shake your head.

"You do this every time we see one of these movies." Eddie chuckles.

"Because the second was the best! It's in a league of its own they're never gonna do better than that." You say.

"Okay fine ye of little faith and quick judgment- what could they do to make the next movie better than the second movie?" Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.

"The second movie was just iconic! When they realize and manage to replicate the intensity with which that movie hit emotionally, they'll have another masterpiece. It's not about duplicating though, they shouldn't repeat the plot, they just need to figure out how to create a similar pull. That's what I'm looking for I need a pull and the newer movies just haven't been pulling me."

"You're insane you know that?"

"I think you need to rewatch the second movie. Clearly you aren't properly remembering the absolute magic of the second movie dude." You shake your head.

"Clearly." He snorts. A moment passes and notice something change abruptly in your friend's demeanor.

"What?" You frown at him.

"What?" He snaps his head towards you.

"Your energy shifted, something changed. Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He says quickly.

"You're on edge. I can see it so don't lie to me. Especially because you're starting to stress me out." You tell him.

"Venom's a little- freaked. He thinks we've got company." Eddie admits.

"Not the good kind I'm guessing. Based on your... disposition."

"Just- stay close, it'll be fine." Eddie says gently resting his hand on your arm. He's clearly on high alert, eyes scanning every darkened alley you walk by. You catch movement off to one side and grab Eddie's attention.

"E- could those be our visitors?" You ask. Eddie follows your eye.

"Fuck me- it's fine, just stay behind me." Eddie steps forward and uses his arm to nudge you behind him.

"Come on Eddie, they're just some guys. This should be easy." You say.

"Unfortunately if they've come for me it's never just some guys." Eddie sighs. "Look guys- I'm sure you don't want any trouble, whatever you think you're gonna gain from this, you'll lose a lot more- trust me." Eddie tells the group. There's maybe 5 of them it seems, but you can't be sure others aren't lurking nearby.

"Yeah- that's the bastard." One of the guys grumbles and Eddie's eyebrow furrows.

"Wait sorry- do you know me or something?" Eddie asks, tilting his head.

"You fucking jackass-" The guy is clearly appalled by Eddie's perceived audacity and starts towards you and Eddie.

"Venom." Eddie calls.

"COPY." Venom replies before overtaking Eddie. You step back a bit to accommodate the size change. Also to give him room, Venom's fighting style is- messy from what you know.

You've never actually seen them fight, although Eddie didn't try to hide Venom from you, he was very intentional about limiting your exposure to him. You're not totally sure why, but it doesn't stop you from making nice with him. Eddie swears the relationship between them is mostly symbiotically beneficial, which means he'll probably be around for a while. Which means he'll be around you for a while, and you want that to be a net positive. So you always ask about him and include him in your relationship with Eddie, and bring him chocolate any time you hang out with them. Eddie swears you spoil him so you hope that means he likes you.

Venom seems to be handling the fight pretty well, I mean he can grow appendages at will, no matter how many of them there are, they can't outmatch him.

"You're coming with me." A gruff voice says wrapping a hand around your wrist.

You snap your head around quickly.

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You take your index and middle finger and jam them into the inner corners of his eyes.

He screams as you dig your digits in deeper.

"You're ruining movie night." You drag him forward by his eye sockets and bash his head into your knee knocking him out. "Asshole." You huff.

"Eulgch gross now my hand is covered in eye juice." You frown. You bend over and wipe your hand on his shirt.

"That's better I guess." You say stepping over the guy to wear Venom has dragged the fight, near the pier.

"Not so fast." A voice grits out behind you as arms encircle your body, trapping you.

"Hey let go of me you bastard." You grunt squirming against his hold.

Your movements stop abruptly with a sharp gasp when you feel cool metal against your throat. A knife.

"Really? An 8 foot monster is stomping out your little pals and you go for the one who isn't doing shit? Coward." You scoff.

"Shut up." He spits through clenched teeth.

"Eddie!" You call out. "No rush but when you get a second some help would be nice! VENOM!" You shout, the blade digging ever so slightly into your skin.

Venom snaps his head towards you and immediately changes his focus, heading towards you and the person holding you hostage.

Your captor walks you backwards as Venom closes in but as he reaches an appendage towards you one of the others pulls out a flamethrower. Where did he get a fucking flamethrower?!

"Venom look out!" You shout but you're not quick enough.

The fire hits him. He lets out a roar of a sound. And then retreats into Eddie, who falls to his knees.

"Eddie?!" You call frantically.

"I'm fine! Just- gotta give Venom time to recover." Eddie grunts.

"If you're fine get up and turn around you dumbass!" You shout. The guy with the flamethrower is closing in on Eddie, luckily he's dropped the thing. Not really a smart move in your opinion but it makes Eddie's chances of beating him without Venom higher.

Eddie spins on his heel just in time to dodge a wild swing from mister flamethrower.

"Woah. Shit." Eddie says. He punches the guy directly in the face and the two start a proper fist fight.

"Hang on y/n I'll be right there!" He tells you between throwing and dodging punches.

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on going anywhere!" You say.

"Could do without the sass at this moment dude!" He says.

"I've got a knife to my throat I'll do whatever I want to cope with it!" You shoot back.

"Sorry about all this!"

"Hazard of our friendship! I know how this goes!" You say.

Eddie finally takes down his opponent and turns to you. He runs in your direction, Venom at some point taking over and freaking out your captor. For a guy holding a knife to your throat he's moving incredibly reckless, stumbling backwards and dragging you with him. Right over the edge of the pier. You scream as you fall back, at least you've been released it seems. Your assailant, in trying to save himself has freed you from his grasp.

The water is a bit chilly, it's not as bad as it could be, but it is only August so it'd be weird if it was ice cold. Water fills your mouth as you sink below the surface. You try to swim up, but the other guy wraps his hand around your leg. You can't swim super well as is, the extra weight hindering your movement pretty much renders your attempt to save yourself futile. Still you flail and desperately kick at your attacker's hand, hoping that you can get him to let you go before your lungs give out. They're already starting to seriously burn.

You hate open water. Besides the fact that you're nowhere near a strong enough swimmer based on the dangers of open water like this, you can't see anything and not knowing what lurks nearby stresses you out even more.

You're starting to panic. The longer you're down here, the more undersea monsters you seem to be able to imagine. You're going to die down here and some random swimming creatures will start eating your decaying flesh and your family won't even have a body to bury when they have your funeral. Or if they manage to find you, you'll be so destroyed by critters they'll have to keep the casket closed. Honestly at this point you hope they cremate you.

The panicking isn't helping. You know it's not, and yet it's all you can do as your vision is starting to blacken around the edges. You still can't get this guy to let go of your fucking leg, and dammit you're getting too weak to keep fighting him. How is he still holding on? You feel your body go limp as you lose consciousness.

Eddie's heart drops as he watches you go over the edge of the pier. You can barely swim, you hate the open water, he has to get you out of there and fast. The only problem is it feels like these goons keep multiplying and if they have to keep fighting he'll never reach you in time.

"We have to get to y/n." Eddie says.

"WE WILL." Venom says ready to fight the next guy.

"No, now V! Fuck the fighting I don't care eat them if you have to. Just get to her!"

"GREAT PLAN." Venom's smile is enough to freak out the person standing between them and where you're currently drowning.

Eddie's counting the seconds as Venom traipses towards the water, biting off heads on the way. There's not even enough movement near the surface for Eddie to tell if you're still alive down there. It's taking you two long to come up.

"YOUR STRESS IS MAKING THIS MORE DIFFICULT EDDIE."

"I'll stop stressing when we get y/n out of the fucking water!" Eddie snaps.

"FINE!" Venom dives into the water and manages to find you surprisingly quickly, dragging your lifeless body out of the water.

"Put her down we have to do something." Eddie says.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Venom asks.

"You watch my back while I try to remember my high school CPR class." Eddie tells him, kneeling beside you.

Pressure.

There's a pressure against your chest.

It's rhythmic, consistent, and just a couple of pascals short of risking a broken rib.

Your nose is pinched and something touches your lips. Air flows into your mouth in bursts and then again with the pressure.

Suddenly you feel water coming up and you lurch forward to expell it, coughing painfully as your body tries to get rid of the water forced into your lungs when you nearly drowned.

"God drowning sucks." You choke out, your voice coming out very raspy and it honestly hurts to say even that short sentence.

"Thank fuck." Eddie sighs, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"YOU'RE ALIVE! EDDIE WE SAVED HER." Venom pokes his head around over Eddie's shoulder.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Eddie whispers, cupping your cheek gently.

"I'm almost offended you thought I'd go out that easily." You joke, coughing again.

"Stop talking! You'll hurt yourself." Eddie says.

"Oh would you relax. I'm not dead, talking won't do me in." You roll your eyes.

"YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE IN PAIN." Venom says.

"Thanks V." You snort.

"Venom she just almost drowned dude." Eddie shakes his head.

"I AM TRYING TO CHECK ON HER. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't you two start. Just- can you take me home?" You groan forcing yourself up. Eddie scrambles to his feet, helping you up until eventually Venom simply takes over and lifts you into his arms.

"Venom I'm pretty sure I can still walk ya know." You say, admittedly a bit nervous in his hold. Not that you think he'll drop you, you've just never interacted with him so directly.

"YOU SHOULDN'T STRAIN YOURSELF. AND WE ARE TAKING YOU TO OUR APARTMENT."

"What? Why?"

"SO WE CAN TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE YOU GET BETTER."

"Get better? All I need to do is shower and go to sleep, I'll be fine." You scoff.

"EDDIE WANTS TO SEE THAT FOR HIMSELF."

"You're very lucky I don't have any more energy to argue about all this." You mutter.

Eddie counts his blessings when he hears that. Of course it would take you nearly drowning to finally allow him to look after you. Little victories he supposes. Granted saving your life is definitely way more than a little victory. You are the single most important person in his life. If he wasn't sure of that before this he's absolutely sure of it now.

***

Playing Favorites

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: Tim trains you differently, uncaring that he's accused of playing favorites. When he realizes that the scars your trauma left go deeper than your approach to police work, he accidentally falls in love with you, and you're beside him for it all.

Warnings: touch starved reader, brief angst, depiction/discussion of past traumas, allusion to past domestic violence, canon-typical injuries and violence, fluff, comfort, obligatory makeout sesh

Word Count: 3.2k+ words

A/N: I used this fantastic idea by @nevereclipse!! As someone who is touch starved, I loved every single aspect of this dynamic and hope I did it some justice🤍🫶🏼

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Less than a minute after your TO slams on the brakes, declares he’s been shot, and demands you tell him exactly where you are, the radio crackles. Officer Bradford has been quiet since you answered him with the nearest cross streets and the direction the shop was facing, and his silence is something you assume you’ll have to grow used to. It’s better than the yelling, you think.

“7-Adam-19,” the dispatcher radios. “Domestic disturbance in your area.”

“Responding,” Tim replies. “What’s standard procedure for domestic calls, boot?”

You stiffen, straightening your back against the seat as you answer robotically, reciting your list of dos and don’ts for this type of call. Tim listens, glancing at you every few seconds. He has a reputation for judging his rookies quickly – and usually, he’s right in his judgements. Yet, he held off on deciding whether or not you would succeed. Though it’s your first day, Tim has, until now, been unsure what to think of you. You know your stuff; there’s no question of that.

“Good,” he murmurs when you finish. “Follow my lead.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim slams the door to the shop, but when he walks past you to approach the front door of the dilapidated house, he realizes something. You’ve endured hard things, experiences you’ve probably kept to yourself and dealt with all alone. Despite that hurt and the devastation Tim knows comes with it, you decided to become a police officer. Whether to be the person you needed during the bad days and dark nights or to stop someone from going down the wrong path is irrelevant to Tim. All he knows now is that your potential outweighs your response to your memories, your dedication is stronger than your past. Tim will have to change his ways because you have what it takes to be a success story.

For the first time in his TO career, Tim adapts his training method to fit his rookie rather than molding his rookie to fit his style. For you, he can be different: gentler, kinder, quieter. You need to learn and grow, and Tim will do everything he can to help you...

Right after he kicks the front door in and starts yelling at the couple fighting on the kitchen floor.

“337.6,” Tim says.

Pinching your brows, you answer, “Unlawful use of a California Horse Racing license? Do you really think that will come up?”

“It’s not about whether or not you’ll need it,” Tim explains, “but whether or not you know it.”

“Okay.”

“Why do you know that one?”

“Why do you?” you challenge, smiling.

Tim shakes his head as he turns on to Pico. “628.5.”

You think for a moment, then remember, “Information attained during prosecution for criminal activity in relation to massage therapy is made available to the California Massage Therapy Council.”

Tim scoffs, though he's impressed by your knowledge of Penal Codes.

“I don’t remember the Business and Professions Code section, though,” you add softly.

“That’s fine,” Tim replies.

You stare out of the windshield, pulling your shoulders toward each other as you curl in on yourself.

“Boot,” Tim says. “You don’t have to know the whole code, just the premise.”

“What if it comes up?” you question.

“You’ve got a phone with internet and the entire LAPD dispatch at your disposal. Asking for help to fill in the blanks isn’t frowned upon, it’s good policing. You may ride alone someday but you are not expected to do this job by yourself.”

“10-50 multiple vehicles, at northeast intersection of Pico and Hauser,” dispatch alerts. “Service technician ETA seven minutes.”

Tim pulls the radio from the dashboard and attaches himself and you to the call. You flex your hands as he turns around and drives toward the accident scene.

“What would you like me to do, Officer Bradford?” you ask as Tim parks behind the wrecked cars.

“Get these people out of this lane,” he answers, opening his door. “We’ve got a few cones in the war bags, make them work.”

“Yes, sir.”

You open the trunk as Tim joins the other officers on the scene. While he checks for injuries and ensures statements will be taken, you direct a driver to go into the other lane.

“But I need to turn right!” he calls through his rolled-down window. “I’m late to a meeting!”

You walk to his car to assist him after checking that no one is trying to get through. “Go straight through when it’s clear, turn right on Carmona, and it’ll take you up to San Vincente,” you direct.

“But I’m going to Olympic,” he rambles quickly, gesturing to his GPS.

“You’re from out of town?”

“That obvious?”

You smile and point straight. “Go through this light. Right on Carmona, which merges into Masselin after you cross San Vincente. That’ll get you straight to Olympic.”

“Okay. Right, right.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks, officer.”

He pulls up to the white line at the intersection just as the light changes to red. Tim says your name, then gestures to the traffic backed up in the Northbound lane.

“Sorry,” you say.

As you turn to jog across the street and direct traffic, Tim calls your name again.

“One thing at a time,” he reminds you. “Good work.”

You nod, then look both ways. You’re out of earshot and are directing drivers to merge before crossing the intersection when Officers Lucy Chen and John Nolan look at your TO with wide eyes.

“What?” Tim questions.

“You just said good work,” Lucy says. “To a rookie.”

“You’re being… nice,” Nolan adds.

“I had to remind myself not to cry on numerous occasions as your rookie, but you tell her good job? I didn’t know you played favorites, Tim.”

“I’m not playing favorites,” Tim defends. He looks over his shoulder to check on you, then sighs. “Are we going to move these cars out of the way or talk about my teaching style?”

“EMTs are here to check the drivers, so we could do both,” Nolan suggests.

“Go put the sedan in neutral, Chen,” Tim instructs. “Nolan, you’re pushing.”

The service technicians arrive as Tim, Lucy, and Nolan get the first car out of the lane. As they take over, and another thanks you for your help and begins directing traffic, Tim leans against the shop and watches you return.

“Are you okay, Officer Bradford?” you inquire.

“How many times did you get flipped off?” he asks rather than answering.

“Four,” you answer. “Sir.”

“Should’ve written them tickets.”

Your brows raise, and you press your hands against your legs to stop yourself from wringing your fingers together. “Really?”

Tim shrugs as he says, “Up to the officer. In a backup like that, no, but if any of them had gotten hostile, absolutely.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I know you will,” Tim replies, pushing off the shop. “Let’s go.”

As you buckle your seatbelt, a robbery in progress call comes through, and you gladly accept Tim’s offer to take the lead when you arrive at the nearby drugstore, smiling at his faith in you.

 “Did you know Tim has a favorite officer?” Lucy asks.

“Yeah,” Angela replies. “It’s me.”

Nyla barks a sarcastic laugh, then smiles when Angela glares at her.

“Who is it this week?” Nyla inquires.

Lucy looks around, then leans forward to whisper, “His boot.”

“Tim?” Nyla asks, still sarcastic. “Falling for a boot? Who would’a thought it.”

“What we had was not this,” Lucy argues. “We were a fling, and now we’re friends. He’s- he’s nice to her, talks to her without yelling, corrects her without getting mad. It’s weird.”

“Lucy,” Angela begins. “As a TO, you have to do what is best for the rookie, not for you. Maybe that’s what she needs. For some people, the yelling and obnoxious reprimands are too much.”

“Tim Bradford does not care about being too much,” Lucy points out.

“Got a point there,” Nyla agrees, leaning back in her chair. “He breaks boots’ spirits, regardless of what they need. There must be something else going on.”

Angela juts her chin toward the door, and Lucy and Nyla turn in time to see Tim leading you into the station. You’re walking side-by-side, and he’s nodding along as you speak. Tim watches your face, then glances at your small hand motions. When one side of his lips quirks up, and he shakes his head, Angela and Nyla look at each other.

“See?!” Lucy exclaims when you turn out of sight.

“Oh, we see,” Nyla replies.

“So, what does it mean?”

“Ever heard of kindred souls?” Angela asks.

Lucy hesitates as Angela and Nyla stand to leave, then decides, “Tim is not kindred anything.”

“Maybe not to you,” Nyla says over her shoulder.

“Is she okay?” you ask.

Tim scrubs an antiseptic wipe across his knuckles as he returns from the ambulance. You were expecting the worst when you got a call for a possible 187, but walking into a home with two screaming teenagers and a bleeding child was far worse.

“Paramedics aren’t sure,” Tim answers. “They’re rushing her to UCLA Children's.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you murmur.

“No,” Tim agrees. “The detectives will figure out what happened, but unfortunately, we rarely get to play a part in deciphering the puzzle.”

You nod, tapping the toe of your right boot against the asphalt. If you’d gotten here faster, if you’d urged Tim to go inside the back door, or radioed for an ambulance as soon as the call came in, maybe the young girl fighting for her life would have a better chance.

“Hey,” Tim says. You don’t look up, so he lays his hand on your upper back and says, “It’s not our fault.”

You stiffen beneath his hand. Unable to remember the last time you were touched like this, you fight the urge to push him away as pain like pins and needles erupts under the warmth he gives. Then, suddenly, it passes, and the only thing you can feel is the comfort he provides.

Your muscles relax, and your shoulders drop as you unconsciously lean against his hand. Tim spreads his fingers when you seem to melt beneath him. At first, he thinks you’re going to fall. But, as quickly as you went from tense to wholly relaxed, a voice in his mind says, Oh.

There was no question that you’ve had hard times and seen and experienced difficult things that shaped who you are today, but Tim missed your touch starvation before now. With his hand on your back, Tim watches you take a deep breath before you look at him.

“There’s,” he begins, trailing off.

“I know it’s not our fault,” you say softly. “Thank you.”

Tim swallows as he nods, wondering why his hand fits so well. A car pulls over on the other side of the street, and Tim withdraws his hand when Nyla and Angela exit the front seats.

He nods to you before you begin speaking with the detectives, and the admiration you had for your TO and his knowledge begins shifting into something more.

“You alright?” Tim asks.

You raise your hand to your shoulder, press it lightly, and nod. Your frown tells Tim differently, and he gently hooks his finger beneath the collar of your uniform. He doesn’t have to pull the fabric far to see the redness of your skin.

“Get in the shop,” he says. “We have to get that checked.”

“It’ll be fine,” you reply. “Just sore.”

“Wasn’t a question.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you answer with a salute.

Tim shakes his head and shifts the car into drive. It’s been nearly two weeks since Tim laid his hand on your back, and he’s lost count of how many easy touches he’s given you since then. But it works for both of you. You’re an even better cop than Tim expected. If he’d ask, you’d tell him it’s because of him.

The shop is filled with a tense silence as you drive back to the station. Tim is sitting like a statue in the passenger seat, and the man behind you stares at the back of your head as if he’s trying to make it explode.

You’ve known since the very first call of your training – a domestic disturbance – that Tim’s past affects him. Maybe you can see his trauma because you have your own, or it's evident because you cared enough to look. Either way, you know that calls like this affect him.

Finding a little boy hiding in the closet with a bruise on his cheek and drywall dust in his matted hair broke your heart, but it made Tim angry. You had to pull him off the man sitting behind you, and it’s only because of your demands and warnings that they’re both sitting in silence.

When you pull up to the station, an officer is waiting to take your arrest into custody, and you thank him before you return to the streets of Los Angeles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask after several minutes alone.

“No,” Tim replies.

“Yeah, me neither,” you agree. “Wanna talk about the Braves?”

Tim jerks toward the door, his eyes wide in shock.

“Welcome back,” you mutter.

“It...” Tim begins.

“It’s hard,” you finish for him. “Especially when it reminds you of something or someone you recognize. I get it.”

“I know you do,” Tim murmurs.

“That’s why you’re so nice to me.”

“I’m just teaching you.”

You smile as you slow, parking outside a small strip mall. Turning toward Tim, you explain, “I’ve heard the stories, Officer Bradford. I know you don’t treat all of your rookies like this. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Tim nods. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not today.”

“Wanna talk about the Dodgers?”

“You’d like that.”

“You wouldn’t?”

Your smile matches Tim’s, and everything feels lighter when Angela interrupts to ask for assistance with a new case.

“Big day tomorrow,” Tim reminds you as you walk out of the station together. “Get some sleep, don’t overstudy, and know you’re going to do great.”

“That’s it?” you ask. “No warning? Now if you make less than a 93, it’s a failure?”

“Lucy?” Tim questions.

You shrug, but Tim raises his hand, wrapping his fingers around the crook of your elbow to stop you.

“You are not Officer Chen. You are not a copied version of me. You are your own officer, your own person, and you do what you are capable of doing.”

“What if I’m not capable of doing this?”

“You are.”

“Only because of you,” you whisper.

“You did the work. I just offered an assist.”

You glance at Tim’s hand on your arm and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly, you smile against his shoulder as he returns the hug. His light touches changed your life, but initiating physical affection and taking what you want is different.

“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.”

“You did the heavy lifting,” Tim replies.

As you step back, Tim’s hands pause on your waist. He looks at you, almost like he wants to say or do more. But then he steps back and wishes you a good night.

Alone in your apartment after graduating to short sleeves, you raise a glass and congratulate yourself. Your favorite movie is queued, you picked up dinner from the best restaurant in Los Angeles, and a congratulations card from Detective Lopez is now displayed on your bookcase. Yet, it feels like something is missing. While the movie plays, your thoughts wander to Tim.

A loud knock on your door distracts you from your daydreaming and the quiet night in. Pausing your movie, you walk to the door and look through the peephole. You smile as you open the door and invite your surprise visitor inside.

“Tim- Officer Bradford,” you greet. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re off the clock,” he reminds you. He sees your table and asks, “Celebrating?”

“Yeah.” Shrugging, you explain, “I figured, I made it this far.”

“It’s a big accomplishment. Have room for an extra guest?”

“Depends on the guest.”

Tim smiles and offers you a card. You thank him and set it on the counter as you offer to get him a drink or something to eat.

“I’m good, thank you.”

You nod, leaning against the counter as you look at him. He meets your eyes, and the silence around you is anything but awkward as you stare at one another.

“I came to congratulate you,” he says after a moment.

“Thank you.”

“You were right. I trained you differently.”

“Why?”

“Because I could tell that you were different. Whatever it was in your past that led you here, it made you special. It affected you, so I wanted to use that, let it help you rather than hurt you.”

“You never asked,” you muse.

“People who want to talk about it tend to start that conversation themselves.”

“Which you never do.”

“Not often, no.”

“Whatever happened to you, Tim, whether it made you the man you are or if you are here today in spite of it, you’re a good man.”

“Same to you.”

“You think I’m a good man?” you joke, smiling after the serious moment.

“It’s not obvious?” he replies.

You raise your hands to playfully push Tim away from you, but he catches your wrists and holds your palms against his chest. Standing together, you continue looking into his eyes. You’ve seen more in each other during your training than anyone else has ever cared enough to look for.

Falling in love with Tim was not intentional, and it wasn’t like free falling. After he touched you, he brought you back to life, and every day after, you fell a little more for him.

“Why’d you let me hug you?” you whisper.

“Because I wanted it, too,” he replies.

Tim brushes his thumb over the pulse point on your wrist. He releases your hand and cups your neck, tracing your jawline. You lean toward him while he pulls you closer.

Tim’s kiss feels like entering a new world, like coming home and finding paradise simultaneously. Sliding your hands up his chest, you shiver against Tim when his arm wraps around your waist. Tim bends slightly, lowering his hand to your hips before he lifts you. You don’t break the kiss as he sets you on the counter, and as his fingers tangle in your hair, you hold his jaw and lose yourself.

Through each breath, each movement, you give a piece of yourself to Tim and accept the pieces he offers you. Remembering that you stiffened and considered pushing him away the first time he touched you, you chuckle against Tim’s lips.

“What’s so funny?” he questions, pulling away and straightening your hair.

“I was touch starved a few months ago,” you reply. “And now you let me take whatever affection I want.”

“You’re welcome.”

You push your hand against Tim’s abs, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“Some people think you were playing favorites with me,” you muse, looking up at him.

“I was,” he answers. “Still am.”

“Lucky me,” you murmur before kissing his jaw and tugging his shirt to bring him close again.

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. 

“Adultère”

Adultère: French for Adultery. 

pairing: Andy Barber x WOC!fem!Reader

Warnings: CHRISTMAS, emily trying to be a good fanfic writer and pretending she knows shit about male underwear, cheating, insecurities but y/n is THAT bitch though, swearing, smut: degradation, andy puts the pussy on a pedestal (as he should), unprotected sex: P in V (zon’t do it. zon’t do it….), light daddy kink + subspace, use of the word “cunt” ihkzlkadj, cheesy happy ending 

A/N: THIS IS FOR MY MAIN GIRLY JASMEEN ILY JAS THEE STALLION CAUSE ITS HER BDAY AND IT MOTIVATED ME TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR ONCE!! ❤️💞🥺 @cloudystevie

For Siri’s  @stargazingfangirl18‘s Happy Hoelidays Challenge! 

Prompt: Character A is having a sad, lonely holiday when Character B unexpectedly shows up to spend it with them

Since i’m a lazy, incompetant person, this is also for the Happy Hoelidays Challenge! Love u Siri, hope you’ll like this

chile not me giving y’all the bare minimum every two months. listen to Lana Del Rey and wake up your sugar baby instincts for maximum experience. Also, i didnt watch defending jacob cause as much as I love chris and shows in general i’m poor and lazy… And i wrote about boston. LAST TIME. my ny ass had a hard time rbhnkjdik // Also, i’m not that good with christmas stuff like.. I really don’t care that much about the christmas spirit and i’m so sorry cause IK you can feel it throughout the whole fic.

Word count: 4.6k+ 

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Kinktober Special Part 2

Mo’s Kinktober Special

The Crew’s Whore (Part 2) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your power 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 skill. 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: Franky x afab!reader

WC: 3100 I'm so sorry

TW: IS THIS A SAFE SPACE?!?! Banging a robot, alcohol consumption oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, crying, forced orgasm? face shot, heavy use of pet names, cringe, his body is a sex toy idk, cringe, so much cringe, please forgive me I love him, idc

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Robo-boning uder the cut:

Chapter 2: The Cyborg

It was a breezy evening aboard the Sunny as you sipped from your wine glass while leaning forward against the railing of the deck. Sanji had once again prepared the crew a fantastic meal and you felt full and comfortable with the cool sea wind blowing through your hair. It was late, most of the crew had returned to their quarters. Zoro was up in his crows nest dojo having a late night workout, Franky had returned to his workshop to fiddle with some new cannon technology, Luffy was in a food coma and snoring loudly laid up against the mast, and even Sanji had finished dishes with Robin’s help and excused himself to bed. Robin was always so helpful with the dishes with her Devil Fruit powers and all. 

You were alone out here with only the sounds of the waves crashing against the hull and your captain’s aggressive snoring. You thought about how you missed your old life, but also how happy you were with the Straw Hats. You loved your job at the brothel and it certainly was less dangerous… but this new life? It was… exhilarating. You loved it. 

*I think I need something stronger* you thought to yourself…

You looked at your empty wine glass and walked into the galley for something more exciting. It was spotlessly clean and empty. You opened up the liquor cabinet and perused your options. Vodka, tequila, gin, rum.. hmm… 

*It’s a pirate’s life for me, I guess.* You giggled and grabbed the bottle of spiced rum off the shelf. You realized that taking it straight from the bottle was a little barbaric for a late night solo cocktail and went to the fridge for a mixer. Orange juice, mineral water, nothing suitable to mix with rum. You wracked your brain, what would go well with rum?  A lightbulb went off in your brain, there’s an obvious choice. Cola! 

Rum and cola went together like peanut butter and jelly, like pancakes and syrup, like tea and honey. Your mouth watered at the prospect of a tasty drink… You knew there wasn’t any cola in the kitchen, but you knew exactly where it was. You filled a glass from the cabinet with ice and held it in one hand and the bottle of rum in the other. You pushed past the swinging galley door towards the hallway that went to the center of the ship. You skipped down a flight of stairs until you reached a wooden door marked with blue cartoonish stars. Blue lettering adorned the top of the doorway reading ‘Franky House.’ 

*So nostalgic of him* you chuckled to yourself before knocking twice. 

“What’s up?” You hear Franky’s booming voice from the other side of the door. You opened the door and sidled in with your glass and bottle in hand. 

“Oh heyyy pretty thing, what are you doing up at this hour?” Franky turned on his stool next to his workbench to look at you. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You smiled at him as you strode confidently towards the fridge you spotted in the corner of his room. “Fancied myself a rum and cola, figured you’d be the guy to call about finding a bottle of cola around here.” 

“Yeah babe! Mi cola es su cola!” He flashed you a winning smile before he turned back towards his work bench and continued fiddling with whatever gadget he was working on before your intrusion. You grabbed a bottle of brown syrupy liquid from the fridge and brought it over to him. You said nothing, just pointed the head of the bottle in his direction. He barely looked up as he reached his large hard out and popped the cap off of the bottle for you. You smiled. 

“Thanks, handsome.” 

You returned to the desk in the middle of the room where you had set your rum and glass, setting the cola down. You picked up the rum and poured a GENEROUS amount over the ice. You topped it off with the freshly popped cola and brought the glass to your lips. Holy shit you over did it with the rum but damn, that’s good. You took a few more sips and let out a big sigh. 

“Rough day, sweet cheeks?” Franky laughed after hearing your exasperated sigh. 

“Hmm.. I guess. Just feeling a bit nostalgic is all.”

Franky’s hands continued to manipulate the mechanical item on his work bench.

“Yeah I get it. It happened to all of us, ya have this whole life and then all of a sudden you’re a pirate. It’s super weird. You’ll get used to it, y/n, we all do. We can talk about it, if ya like.” He doesn’t turn around. He had always been so good at expressing his emotions, such a tender and kind soul. He knew how you felt, and wanted you to feel heard. 

*Such a sweet heart for a robot* you thought to yourself. But he wasn’t a robot, he was still a man. Sure, his body was more metal than flesh at this point, but it didn’t take away from what a gentle spirit he had. You started to wonder what other human instincts he had left… 

“Honestly Frank? I’m kind of trying not to think about it. What are you working on?” You walk over to his work bench and lean up next to him, against the table backwards, able to see the item on the table but facing his body. 

“Oh this? Nothing totally crazy, just something I was thinking about for my forearm cannon. You see this part here…” He was excitedly telling you about his work, clearly passionate about his science. You nod and give him “hmm”’s here and there. You pour another strong drink and bring it back over to Franky’s work bench. You set the glass in front of him.

“I can’t be the only one indulging tonight, right?” You say seductively as you slide the glass towards his massive chest. 

“Well little lady, I’m usually a cola purist, but I guess one drink won’t hurt.” Franky grabs the glass in his large hand and slams the drink in one gulp. He hisses out, not prepared for how strong you made the cocktail. 

“My god girl, you’re trying to get me drunk?!”

You laugh out loud and pour yourself another drink. 

“No no, just trying to get more comfortable!” You laugh again. “Now tell me more about this hydraulic, fusion combustion, thingy again…” 

You say this as you set yourself down on Franky’s wide lap, drink in hand. 

“Okay so if you can see this piece right here…” Franky continued explaining his latest project to you as you became distracted by his handsome features. He had a strong, chilled jaw, defined abs, incredible thighs and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to his swim briefs. Was it still real? Did he have anything or was he like a doll?

You let your thoughts get the better of you and you set your glass down on the workbench. You slid to your knees in between Franky’s spread legs and let your head rest on his thigh. 

“WoAAhhh sweet thing, something else on your mind?” He dropped what he was working on and lifted his sunglasses onto his head as he looked down at you. He leaned back. You giggled up at him while stroking his crotch slowly. 

“mmmm yes. How could I not wonder? I’ve thought about it so much. Never had someone like you before…” You drew your face closer to the growing bulge in his swim briefs as you palm him. 

“Are you sure? How much do you want it? It might be too much for ya, doll face…” Franky puts his large palm on the side of your face, seemingly a bit concerned. 

“I want it. I can take it, please show me.” Your fingers worked at the hem of his tight black speedo before he helped you bring it down to his ankles. You pull them all the way off and return to your kneeled position between his legs. 

“Wow…” 

His cock was so gorgeous. It had to be real. It was so long, thinner than you’d like, but the length was truly impressive. The base was decorated with tufts of blue hair. 

“Is this good for ya, babe? Tell me what ya like and I can make it happen." Franky stroked your hair as you were staring at his cock from between his knees. 

“What?” You didn’t know what he was talking about. Was he that confident in his sexual abilities? You felt your cunt clench in anticipation. 

“No, this," He nods his head down at his erect cock. "I can make it anything you want. Too big?” You stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“Want bigger? Maybe you’re a little size queen?” Franky smirked at you with those last words. 

“No no,” You stuttered out. “Could you… could you maybe make it a little… thicker?” You were so embarrassed, you felt so silly asking for this man to change up his own cock for you. 

“Of course doll, if you want to be stretched out real good, who am I to deny you?” Franky smiled as he pressed his metal nose. 

You stared at his erect penis as it became grittier right before your eyes. 

“No way…” You gasped quietly to yourself. 

“Yes way baby! You really thought I would rebuild my own body and not give myself an incredible dick?” He grinned down at you between his legs. “Now… where were we?”

You felt his hand gently push the back of your head towards his newly engorged cock. You were snapped out of your stupor and grabbed the thick length with both hands and began to pump it slowly. 

“Perfect….” Franky cooed at you as you stroked him. 

You leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth. He groaned loudly. You knew he would be loud, he always is, why would now be any different?

You gradually took more and more of his cock into your mouth and bobbed your head up and down. With each pull backwards you slurped and dragged your tongue across the bulbous head of his dick. 

“Fuck, shit, just like that…” He tried so hard not to ram his hips into your face, knowing it would scare you off. His body was too strong. 

“Shit baby… You’re way too good at this… get up here and let me stuff you.” 

Once again your pussy squeezed around nothing, pushing out a drip of your arousal. Franky leaned down and grabbed your hips to pull you upward. 

In a moment you were on your back on Franky’s workbench, his projects swept to the the floor with one brush of his huge forearm. He was man handling your body to pull all your clothes off of you. You lay back down on the table, now fully bare in front of him.

“Franky, fuck me. Please. I want it.” 

He hovered over you, massive body eclipsing yours. 

“And you’re sure? I told you it might be too much… Once I start… well it can just be a lot for someone who isn't used to it.” Franky asked you for the last time, making sure you knew what you were getting into. 

“Yes, Frank. I’m so sure.” 

He pushed you down forcefully, but you protested by rising to your elbows and catching his lips in a wet kiss. He accepted your kiss and forced his tongue past your spit covered lips. You groaned at his dominance, such a change from how you were used to being with your other lovers. 

After making out for several moments, you whined a bit too loudly when he pinched at your nipple. 

“Okay okay needy girl, I’ll give you what you want now. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” 

He pushes your thighs up with one hand as he lines his perfect cock up with your sopping hole with the other. He squeezes himself in slowly. 

“Holy FUCK, my GOD Franky…!” You shout out as he sinks balls deep inside of you, having you in a mating press with one hand due to his large stature. 

“Oh pretty lady, we haven’t even started.” He begin to pull out and shove himself back into your cunt, slick coating his cock more and more with each thrust. You slammed your eyes shut in pleasure, his dick was hitting all the perfect spots inside of you almost like it was made perfectly to fit your body… oh wait… it was. 

All of a sudden you felt a new sensation along with his heft length splitting you open. Was he… vibrating? Your neck snapped up and your eyes shot open to meet his above you. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. Had to add something for the ladies pleasure, right?”

“FRANKY!” Your body lurched forward and grabbed his biceps. You had never felt anything like this before. It’s like your body was lit up by electricity. The smooth drag of his vibrating cock against your g-spot was complete sensory overload. 

Franky chuckled. He continued railing into your tiny body, chasing his own pleasure, not worried that you’d reach yours. 

“Frank I’m going to-!” You yelped as your body tumbled over the edge in pleasure. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your spasming cunt pushed out your release all over your lovers abdomen and legs.

“Wow doll face, I never thought you’d be a squirter!” Franky laughed over you as he drilled his hips into yours further, not concerned about your recovery from your intense orgasm. Your body was limp in his hold now, not able to produce any sort of coherent phrase. 

“Franky wait, I feel like-Ah!“ 

You were cumming again. It was only a few moments after your last orgasm and your center was  squeezing and creaming on Franky’s thick robotic cock again. You had lost full control over your body, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You screamed. You had no idea what words you were trying to scream, but you screamed. 

“You like that, huh baby? How about one more for me? I think you can do it, right?” Tears streamed down your face as you laid on his workbench, boneless. Your cunt was throbbing in both pain and pleasure. You were being thrust into so forcefully that your body slid back and forth on the table, your breasts basically hitting you in the chin as they bounced so aggressively. 

“Mmmm.. Hmm. FUCK! Yes I can do it, I can take it!” You felt drunk on pleasure, barely able to keep your eyes focused. The sensations in your pussy were unlike anything you’d ever experienced. As your cyborg lover pounded into you at an impossible speed, you felt the familiar wave of pressure bubble up from your center, but this time far more intense than the others. 

“There it is baby, I can feel it, I knew you could do it for me sweet thing.” He coaxed you into tipping over the edge. Your back arched and you shrieked up at him. You vision went completely white for a moment as you felt your massive release splattering against Franky’s thighs and cock. Wet, sloppy noises filled the room as you felt your cunt start to tingle with numbness and overstimulation, 

“Can’t… it’s too much!”  You whine loudly at him as you make a feeble attempt to push at his abs, not entirely sure what you wanted yet. 

“That’s just fine doll face, I’ve got something else in mind anyway.” He flashes you a huge grin before grabbing you around your ribs and setting you down on your knees on the floor in front of him.

“Open wide, pretty lady!” He held your hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand and stroked his massive cock in front of your face with the other. 

Obviously after 3 earth-shattering orgasms you were putty in his large hands. You stick your tongue out and look up at him. After seeing the makeup smeared on your face from spit and sweat and tears, there was no way he could hold back any longer. 

“Fuuuuuuuck…!” He groaned out as he painted your eager, wrecked face with simply so much cum. It dripped off your cheeks and your chin as you happily kept your mouth open for him. He finally finishes his release and taps his cock on your tongue, so you can taste the last bit. 

“Shit you look so super like this!” Franky beamed down at you covered in his thick cum. You grin back up at him, delirious from exhaustion, cum dribbling down your neck. “But I guess I can’t leave ya like that huh?” He grabbed a clean rag from a drawer in his workbench and started wiping his seed off your face, you were so exhausted your eyes fell closed and you held your head in his free hand. 

“Hold on hold on doll, I’m almost done then I’ll put ya to bed.” Franky finished cleaning your face and picked up up off your knees and set you down on his bed. He tucked you in and went to put back on the little clothing he had on in the first place. He moved towards the door of his room. 

“Well thanks for the break, little lady! I have a repair I need to finish up on the deck tonight, but you get some rest.” Franky says from over his shoulder on the way out to the rest of the ship. You close your eyes and relax your bruised and exhausted body into Franky’s mattress. 

"Hey, if you’re feeling up to it when I get back, we can have a round 2! You haven’t even seen half the super stuff I can do, I just went easy on you!” He shouted as he left the room with his toolbox and the door closed behind him. 

Your eyes snapped open.

“WHAT?!”

---

a/n I again, am so sorry lol but Franky needs more love. Justice for Franky Fuckers.

Tape

Description: Bruce and Y/N’s sex tape leaked

Warnings: Cursing, sex tape, suggestive,

Word Count:0.8k

“Bruce, wake up,” Y/N startled her husband awake. Normally she tried to let Bruce get at least four hours of sleep but this was an emergency.

“What? I’m up,” Bruce’s first thought was either the Manor was on fire or one of the kids was about to set the Manor on fire. He knew Y/N shaking him awake meant something bad had happened.

“It leaked,” Y/N speaking in vague terms didn’t help Bruce relax in this situation. He was much too tired to attempt to decipher whatever she was talking about.

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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.