Save You Again

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.

Rook Book

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!metro!reader

Summary: When you return to the Mid-Wilshire station for a Metro inspection, you don't expect to run into your former TO, Tim Bradford.

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, incorrect police procedures

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Boot, let’s go!” Tim urges. “You can talk to your friends later.”

“Good morning to you, too, Officer Bradford,” Lucy replies. “How’d you-“

“Shop.”

“I just-“

“Shop.”

Lucy sighs before walking away from Tim. She’s used to his grumpiness by now, but she can tell by his attitude that there will be a few Tim Tests today. The war bags are already in the trunk, so Lucy isn’t sure what the rush is.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s been a while,” Wade says as he shakes your hand.

“Too long,” you reply with a smile. “When my captain mentioned this, I knew I had to take the assignment.”

“So, what does Metro want with a station review? Isn’t that usually IA’s thing?”

“Typically, yes. I think my role here is best described as a scout. Cap wants some new blood and we’ve got a couple of Metro openings. We need the best, and for some reason, I get to choose them.”

“You’ve already chosen one, I’m sure.”

Wade smiles as you furrow your brows. He shakes his head and reaches for something on his desk.

“Who?” you ask.

“If you don’t know, I’m not telling you.”

Someone knocks on the door, and you turn around as Smitty steps inside.

“I thought you quit,” he says when he sees you.

“I think I know who I won’t be choosing,” you tell Wade.

He tosses you a set of keys and waves. You leave his office and glance around. The station hasn’t changed much since the last time you were there, but you’re sure the people have. As you walk through the bullpen, you see someone you recognize.

“Bradford?” you call.

Tim freezes at the sound of your voice. He hasn’t seen you in years, yet hearing his last name come out of your mouth takes him back to when he was a rookie. Walking several steps ahead of him, Lucy stops and turns at the call of Bradford’s name. She’s expecting to be held up for a minute or two, but when she sees Tim turn slowly toward you, she knows that it’s more than that.

“Hey,” Tim says.

When he sees your smile, he relaxes and steps toward you. You don’t miss his initial reaction, though, and it makes your smile grow.

“I did not think you’d still be here,” you begin. “Maybe I should’ve done a better job.”

Tim nods, and Lucy rushes to his side. She smiles and extends her hand toward you before she speaks.

“Hi, I’m Lucy, uh, Officer Chen. How do you know Officer Bradford?” she asks.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply before telling her your name. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Tim’s rookie.”

“You’re a TO?” you ask incredulously as you turn to look at Tim. “Seriously?”

“Lucy,” Tim begins, “this is my TO.”

Lucy’s jaw drops and you chuckle. Wade calls your name, and you look over your shoulder at him. After he beckons you to return to his office, you turn back to Tim.

“I’ll see you around,” you say.

“Why?” he inquires.

“Metro’s recruiting.”

Tim watches you go and doesn’t move until you’re out of his sight. His shoulders are tense, but there’s a small smile on his face that Lucy hasn’t seen before.

“You never mentioned her!” Lucy exclaims.

“Because she was my TO, not yours,” Tim argues.

“She doesn’t seem that much older than you.”

“I’m not that much older than you.”

Lucy raises her brows but remains silent this time.

“Our ages don’t matter. Aren’t you supposed to be in the shop?” Tim argues.

“Aren’t you?”

Tim tilts his head to the side, and Lucy decides this isn’t a battle worth fighting. She’ll ask about you later, anyway. After Lucy walks away, Tim glances towards Wade’s office once more. He remembers every moment he spent with you, and the memories are making it hard to focus.

“You drive,” Tim tells Lucy as he enters the garage area.

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever unserious?”

Lucy nods and takes the keys from him. As she climbs into the driver’s seat, she realizes why he doesn’t want to drive. He can’t, for some reason.

“You had a crush on your TO,” she accuses quietly.

“Do you want me to quiz you on everything in the rook book?” Tim replies. “Because if you keep this up, that’s what you have to look forward to.”

“You don’t have one.”

“No, because I actually know everything in it. Now, you can pick. Be quiet and drive or I start asking questions about cavity search procedures.”

“I will be quiet and drive,” Lucy decides. “For now.”

Tim takes a deep breath as he remembers the rook book you kept with you when he was a boot. Every memory he has of you is good, and now he’s concerned that Lucy is right. Not that he did have a crush on you, he knows he did, but that he still does.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “I need you and Chen to return to the station.”

“Copy that,” Tim responds.

“What do you think that’s about?” Lucy asks.

“The Metro inspection.”

“I didn’t know about a Metro inspection.”

“I can tell you’re about to burst, so you can ask one question before we get back to the station,” Tim offers.

“Ooh! Wait, just one? How am I supposed to choose? Because I want to know about what kind of TO she was, but I also need to ask if she knows that you liked her.”

“Choose one.”

Lucy taps her fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before smiling. “Did she test you like you test me?”

“Are you asking if she had a version of Tim Tests?”

“Yes.”

Tim nods as he answers, “Yeah. She gave me tests. It’s one of the reasons I started doing Tim Tests. Practical knowledge and experience are important, but she’s the one who taught me that.”

“That’s so cute! You based your teaching style on your teacher crush.”

“Chen,” Tim warns.

“Okay, okay. Then did she quiz you on the rook book, too?”

Lucy knows she is pressing her luck with asking another question. Tim doesn’t answer, and as she nears the station, Lucy expects he’ll make her do pushups later.

“Yeah, she did. Always had a copy of the rook book with her. Sometimes, she’d read it while I drove around and would only talk to me to ask me questions.”

Lucy smiles to herself, now completely convinced that Tim had a crush on you. The way he talks about you and remembers you, though, makes her think those feelings may still be alive. Once the shop is parked at the station, Lucy decides to get to the bottom of Tim’s relationship with you, and if there isn’t one, she needs to make something happen.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, thanks for coming back so quickly,” Wade says. “Head into my office. Chen, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy replies.

“There’s a Metro inspection happening today, and I need you to take the Metro officer around, show her everything she needs to see, make introductions, whatever she asks.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucy tries to hide her smile because she suspects that you are the Metro officer she’s about to spend a bunch of time with. Maybe you’ll be more open than Tim. When you approach her with a smile, Lucy knows that her investigation of your relationships will be more fun than your inspection of the station.

“Officer Chen, sorry to pull you from patrol, but Sergeant Grey said you were one of the best,” you greet.

“No problem,” Lucy says. “And you can call me Lucy if you want.”

“Okay, Lucy, I would love a tour of Mid-Wilshire station. It’s been a long time since I was here, so walk me through like it’s my first time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lucy turns and leads you toward the front desk, to start the tour as she would with a visitor.

“Lucy?” you ask. “What’s Tim like as a TO?”

“He’s great. I mean, he’s grumpy and has a ton of Tim Tests, but I like riding with him.”

“Tim Tests,” you murmur under your breath. “Cute.”

Lucy smiles at your reaction before she begins the tour. You don’t mention Tim again for a while, and Lucy thinks that you are too focused on your inspection to think about him. As you near the bullpen at the end of the tour, Tim is exiting Wade’s office.

“You abducted my boot for a personalized tour?” Tim asks you.

“Lucy mentioned Tim Tests,” you say, changing the subject. “Don’t tell me copied my rook book move, too.”

Tim rubs his thumb across his jaw before answering, “I didn’t.”

“He told me that you used to carry a rook book around and would ask him questions,” Lucy interjects. “I’m really glad he didn’t take that idea.”

You look at Tim with a smile as you ask, “That’s all you told her?”

Lucy looks back and forth between you and Tim, but neither of you seems to remember she’s there.

“The rook book wasn’t a rook book,” Tim says after a moment. “It was just a book that she put the cover on. Those days that she didn’t want to talk to me, she’d just read through our shift and ask me random questions to make it look like she was doing her job.”

“Yeah. Because I’m the one who had trouble doing my job,” you reply with a laugh.

Tim shakes his head, and Lucy suddenly feels the urge to interrupt before he says something out of line.

“How’s the inspection going?” he asks instead.

“How’d your meeting go?” you counter. “Because the inspection is just a cover and we both know it.”

“Cover for what?” Lucy asks.

“She’s recruiting for Metro,” Tim explains. “Looking for the best talent in our station to move to a new team.”

“We’ve got three openings,” you remind him. “Just think about it, okay?”

Tim looks toward Lucy, but you give him a knowing nod. Lucy feels lost like a kid listening to her parents talk about something she hasn’t experienced yet.

“Thanks for the tour, Officer Chen,” you say. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

You say bye to Tim before walking past him. His fingers flex at his side as you pass, close enough to touch. Tim closes his eyes for a moment before turning to Lucy.

“Let’s go. Patrol isn’t over yet,” he says.

“Are you sure you don’t want to grab a book first?” she responds. “I know, shop. I’m going.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After the day of your inspection, Lucy doesn’t hear your name again. Tim returns to his high-stress tests, driving, and random procedural questions. You clearly made an impact on Tim just by being near him, and as Lucy’s rookie exam gets closer, she wonders if Tim pushed you away.

“Can I ask a question?” Lucy asks.

“Depends. Is it about the exam? Because that’s all you should be concerned about,” Tim says.

“No. Well, sort of. Did your TO help you study?”

“Are we talking about my experience as a rookie or about my TO?”

“Your TO,” Lucy answers softly.

“Fine. Ask away.”

“Why hasn’t she been back?”

“She has a job. Metro is busy, so she doesn’t have a lot of time to make personal visits.”

“Did she offer you one of the positions?”

“She did.”

“And you didn’t take it? Why not?”

“Because you’re still a rookie. I have to get you through this.”

“You could’ve handed me off, that happens all the time. Did you say no because of her?”

“I didn’t say no, Chen. I said not yet.”

“Metro positions don’t open every day! You can’t throw away your career to drive me around for a few more months!”

“Lucy!” Tim yells. “Drop it.”

Lucy sits back and presses her lips together to stay quiet. Tim’s cell phone rings, and he glances at it before raising it to his ear.

“Hello?” Tim answers.

Lucy looks over in shock. Tim has never answered a personal call in the time they’ve been riding together. Whoever is on the other end speaks for a moment, and Tim listens intently.

“Got it… Yep, see you then.”

Tim ends the call and drops his phone to continue driving.

“Who was that?” Lucy asks.

Tim looks over but doesn’t answer. He says, “Read your rook book,” and keeps driving.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Bradford,” you call as he and Lucy enter the station.

Tim leaves Lucy and walks to you. He stops beside Wade’s office and waits for you to begin. You told him on the phone to come straight to the station when his shift ended and he’s ready to know why. Nolan and Jackson enter behind Lucy and silence as they watch Tim talk to you.

“Who is that?” Nolan whispers.

“Tim’s TO,” Lucy answers.

“My captain wanted to call you, but I thought it would be better to tell you in person,” you begin. “You passed the Metro test, and your spot is waiting for you.”

Tim smiles, glad he has his back to the rookies. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything I haven’t done before.”

“Which is?”

“See potential in you.”

Tim nods and thanks you again. You look over his shoulder and the rookies look away quickly, but they’re less than stealthy and it is obvious they’re trying to listen in.

“Has Lucy been asking about me?” you ask.

“Nonstop. Don’t look so happy about it, though.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Mostly if I had a crush on you.”

“We both know you did,” you say.

Tim doesn’t argue, and your smile grows.

“I know you told her about my tests and the rookie book, but what else does she know?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s interesting. Because I don’t know any more than that and I’ve known you a whole lot longer.” You glance down at your Metro uniform before adding, “Oh, and my captain also said that Metro officers are allowed to have interpersonal relationships as long as they don’t interfere with work.”

Tim looks up quickly with wide eyes. You stifle a laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

“So… are you ready to admit you had a crush on me?” you ask.

“Something like that.”

You wave at Lucy and step away from Tim. He reaches an arm out to stop you, but you only wink at him before you continue walking.

“Are you going to do something this time?” Wade asks as he exits his office.

“We’ll see,” Tim answers. “Lucy has to pass the rookie exam first.”

“It looks like she just got herself a tutor.”

Tim turns and finds you and Lucy talking excitedly. You smile at him, and Tim feels like a boot again.

“This is gonna be fun,” Wade and Lucy say simultaneously.

Neither you nor Tim hear them, too busy looking at one another.

> part 2: Rook Book to Remember Me By

It's Bubba

Here is a new Evan Buckley imagine, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Birthday Wishes (Prequel)

Summary: When Evan's parents come into town, they aren't happy to find their grandson prefers Bobby over them. And they take their frustrations out on (Y/n).

Enjoy.

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(Y/n)'s lips curved into a grin and she couldn't help the relief that overwhelmed her when she realised who was at the door.

"Come in." (Y/n) opened the door wider and took a step backwards to allow Bobby inside.

Her eyes followed him as he stepped into the hall, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other stretched down to push the small pedal bike through the hall. She closed the door, pressing her lips together to dampen her smile that threatened to reach her eyes. She watched Boby push the pedal bike towards the stairs so it was just out of the hallway so it wouldn't be a trip hazard.

"All fixed for the little man." Bobby stuffed both hands in his pockets and turned to face (Y/n) as she stepped past the stairs.

James had spent the weekend with Athena and Bobby and the three year old had tried riding his bike around the block, with Bobby's supervision of course. The four year old was rather fast when he had his training wheels but one of them came loose and the bike took a tumble.

Bobby had fixed the wheels back on and checked it over and he knew James would want the bike to play on before next weekend when he was due to spend the night with him and Athena again.

"Thank you, he'll be very pleased."

"Is he around?"

(Y/n) gave Bobby's arm a squeeze and pointed into the lounge. She stayed close behind him as he walked into the living room and took a peek around. Cartoons were playing on the tv, there was a colouring book on the table and crayons scattered along the floor.

And there was James, curled up in a ball on the sofa, head almost hanging off the edge and arms bound to his chest. Drooling onto the pillow as he dozed off in a power nap.

"Want a coffee?" (Y/n) kept her voice quiet, not wanting to wake James just yet when he had only been asleep for a good ten minutes or so. He would wake up soon and he would be thrilled to see Bobby when he did wake up. The three year old was under the impression that Bobby was his grandad and nobody would or wanted to correct him on that.

"Sure." Bobby patted his hand on the back of the sofa, grinning at the little boy that always stole his heart, before he spun on his heels and moved towards the kitchen.

He had come round today because he had the day off and Bobby hated to swing by and leave in a hurry. The one time he had tried to do that James had cried when Bobby didn't come inside for a drink or stay long. He wanted to hang around and chat to his grandson when he woke up.

"So, how are you?" Bobby took a seat at the kitchen table while (Y/n) flicked the kettle on and got some mugs out ready.

"Did Evan tell you his parents are in town?"

The way (Y/n) arched a brow and glanced over her shoulder at Bobby made him whistle lowly and hang his head for a moment.

No, indeed, Evan had not mentioned that little fact. Although it did explain why Evan had been restless on shift yesterday and why he had been so twitchy and distant instead of involved and forever bombarding the team with facts and new information he had learned.

"Oh, so that's who you're expecting?" He noticed (Y/n) had seemed a little jumpy when she opened the door.

(Y/n) didn't want her in-laws turning up when Evan wasn't here. She never knew what to say to the Buckley parents, things were always tense and awkward and she needed Evan to play referee and keep the peace and the tension down.

They were in town now and they had visited Maddie this morning and they should be coming to visit (Y/n) and James anytime soon. (Y/n) was dreading it, but if Bobby was here it might calm the waters a little. She hoped.

"Evan's on shift, how lucky." (Y/n) joked and placed a cup down in front of each of them, using the table as leverage to ease down and try to shake the discomfort in her back.

She slouched back in her seat, pushing her knees forward into the table while her shoulders jabbed back into the chair. The looser she sat, the easier the pain was to handle in her back and stomach.

(Y/n) hadn't been in this much pain when she was pregnant with James, but then again, she was having twins this time.

She almost wished Evan and Maddie hadn't told their parents she was pregnant. They wanted to come down more often now they knew she was having twins, just like they visited a lot when they had been expecting James. They rarely visited Evan before then, but once James was born they were down every other month and kept calling to see how he was. Evan had never had so much contact with his parents since he moved out at eighteen.

It was nice that they were trying to make an effort, but it was too little too late. They were in contact much more often now that Evan had his own family, but it still wasn't enough. Going from almost nothing to a few visits didn't make James see them as his grandparents. He thought of (Y/n)'s parents as his grandparents and he saw Bobby and Athena as Evan's parents, therefore they were his family.

Bobby had been there when James was born, he had seen him almost every day and cuddled him and took care of him. He and Athena were always taking James on days out and having him sleep over and were teaching him to ride his bike. They were his grandparents.

"I'm sure he doesn't feel very lucky. Does the little man know they're coming?"

"No, just in case they don't turn up today."

(Y/n) didn't see any point in telling James in case the Buckley parents didn't make it here today or something came up. And she knew James wouldn't be excited to see them like he would when he saw Bobby. James didn't spend a lot of time with Evan's parents and it had been months since they had last visited and over a year since they had taken him out anywhere.

They pledged when he was born that they would spend a lot of time with him and take James out places, because he was their first grandchild. So far they hadn't kept up with that ideal, and Evan hadn't expected them to either.

"Oh," (Y/n) took a quick sip of her coffee, pursing her lips when it burned the back of her throat. She set her cup down and moved her hands to the table, pushing herself up despite only just sitting down.

She aimed for the fridge and pulled down the latest scan photo Evan had pinned with a magnet, next to James's latest drawing. Which happened to be a stick figure James said was Evan, stood next to a bright red fire truck.

"Here," She couldn't hide the smile from her lips when she slid the photo over to Bobby and sat back down.

Her left hand moved to glide across her stomach where both twins were kicking up a storm. Her right hand began to tap against the table as she watched a soft but proud smile flutter across Bobby's face as he skimmed his thumb across the picture. He still had the first picture Evan had given him to announce he was going to have his first kid. Now he was having two for the price of one this time.

"For me?" He murmured quietly, wafting the picture before he got his wallet out his back pocket to keep the picture safe when (Y/n) nodded. "Only two months left."

"I can't wait." As much as (Y/n) was happy to be pregnant, she was eager for it to be over and to have both babies in her arms.

The timing was hopefully going to work out though. They had been warned (Y/n) could go into early labour because she was having twins, something which had put Evan on red alert and set off his anxiety. But (Y/n) was hoping that wouldn't happen because in three weeks it would be James's fourth birthday. Which happened to be on the same day as Evan's thirtieth birthday.

She wanted to get the party out the way and celebrate both her boys before she had the twins. The last thing they wanted was her to go into labour just before the party and ruin the day for James or take the attention away from him and Evan. Or to go into labour now and have two screaming babies disrupting the little family party they had planned out.

Maddie had taken the lead in organising a party, of course Evan had to know about it because it was for his son, but he didn't know the details. All he knew was he had his birthday off work and so did his team so they could all have a big get together. Evan didn't know where it was happening, what time, what was planned. Nothing.

It was a big birthday for him and Maddie and (Y/n) wanted to celebrate.

Evan had been head over heels when the day before his twenty-sixth birthday, (Y/n) went into labour. And when James was finally born, they looked at the time and realised it was three in the morning. Officially Evan's birthday. He got to share his special day with his boy and it had been the best present he had ever gotten.

"I'll bet. So, what's he asking for his birthday this time?" Every time Bobby asked James what he wanted or what he was expecting, he seemed to ask for something different.

"A fire truck. Like, a real one, he wasn't impressed when Evan told him he couldn't get one."

James had sat in the truck before and been for a ride and he was enthralled by the work his dad and grandad both did. He loved the trucks and the ambulance and he asked if he could have one. Evan politely explained the best he could do was get his son a replica toy truck for now which made James cry.

He wanted Evan to bring the truck home. James was under the impression that since his dad was a firefighter, he should be able to drive the truck whenever he liked and use it as his personal car.

The doorbell broke apart the conversation and (Y/n)'s shoulders visibly slumped and the way she flopped her head forward had Bobby's face softening.

He reached out to pat her arm before she pushed up and sighed, trudging out the kitchen towards the front door.

They were here. (Y/n) couldn't imagine it being anyone else at the door, she wasn't expecting anyone and she knew Maddie would be on shift this afternoon which was why her parents had gone to see her first this morning. It had to be Evan's parents.

Please don't stay until Evan gets home!

She had a horrible gut feeling that they would hang around all afternoon and stay until Evan came home from work so they could see him. (Y/n) didn't want to have to entertain them all day, but it seemed like that was a big possibility. Part of her hoped she could manage to persuade them to leave later this afternoon and come back tomorrow when Evan was off.

It would be easier for everyone, (Y/n) wouldn't be so drained if they turned up tomorrow, Evan would be home and recuperated after a good nights sleep and James would be a bit more lively.

The calmest, controlled look (Y/n) could muster plastered across her face when she opened the front door and was met with the sight of her in-laws.

Their smiles were warm and made some of the nerves in (Y/n)'s stomach die down, but it still didn't feel right to see them without Evan being here. He always controlled the situation, he steered the conversation and stopped his parents from causing any arguments. And if an unsettling topic arose, Evan squashed it immediately.

Despite everything Evan had been through with his parents, somehow, he was always calm and composed and (Y/n) didn't know how he did it.

"Hi, you made it. Come in." (Y/n) moved to let them in, watching the way they shrugged off their coats and hung them up as if they were round here every week rather than every couple of months.

They were more at ease than they used to be, but they still looked and seemed out of place here. Not like when they visited Maddie. They were happier visiting her, and for the longest time (Y/n) couldn't understand why. Until it was made clear why Evan had been born in the first place.

"Do you want to go into the kitchen?"

(Y/n) led them into the kitchen, locking eyes with Bobby who took another sip of coffee and stayed seating. He didn't feel the need to stand up or shake hands or try and make any effort in a big hello with the Buckleys.

"Would you like a drink?" (Y/n) rolled her lips together and watched her in-laws as they dithered, debating whether or not to sit down at the table or stand near the counter. They seemed to settle on sitting opposite Bobby at the table, although they looked perplexed as if wondering why he was here.

"A cup of tea would be nice."

She rattled through the cupboard for any teabags. Evan could drink coffee like it was water and most of the team had a preference for coffee, but not many of their friends and family drank tea. (Y/n) used to have a taste for iced tea when she was pregnant with James, but she hadn't drank much of it since.

An old pack of teabags was still in date and (Y/n) set to work making them each a drink.

"How have you been? You remember Bobby,"

"Yes, yes, Evan's Captain. We're well, we missed little James, where is he?" Margaret nodded towards Bobby and watched him raise his mug towards her before his eyes flitted over towards (Y/n).

Bobby couldn't help the nagging feeling that clawed behind his chest. They weren't asking how (Y/n) was. God knows when the last time was that they had seen or talked to her, and here they were not bothering to ask how their pregnant daughter in law was doing in herself.

But he held his tongue. There was no sense saying anything, Bobby didn't want to start an argument and he knew it wasn't worth it.

"I'll go see if he's awake."

With their cups placed in front of them, (Y/n) smiled and slowly padded through into the living room. She didn't want to wake James, she wanted to let him sleep because he needed it, but if she didn't wake him now and Bobby left, James would get upset. He would want to see him and Evan's parents wanted to see him.

They always made the effort with James, maybe because they knew they had messed up so royally with Evan and were trying to make amends through his son.

A smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she saw James was still in the same place she had left him earlier, cuddled up on the sofa.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to lean on the arm of the sofa and lower herself down to her knees. She smoothed her hand across her stomach, settling the twins while her other hand moved out and brushed through James's hair. She brushed her fingertips across his temple and moved his messy hair back on his head which roused him.

His tired eyes blinked open like headlights and be brushed his fist against the tip of his nose, squeaking a yawn while he stretched his arms above his head.

"Someone's here to see you." Her voice was quiet and she leaned across to kiss his cheek which puffed out into a smile.

That was all James needed to wake himself up. A shiver tore through him and he sat up straight, stretching and wriggling like a worm on a hook before he scrambled down off the sofa. He didn't have to know who was here, James loved visitors he would attach to anyone who came by.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) heaved herself back up to her feet and followed James through into the kitchen.

"There he is." The happiness in Phillip's voice was surprising, but it was James's reaction that had (Y/n)'s heart jumping up into her throat.

Panic fluttered across James's face when he saw his grandparents sat at the table. He could see Phillip's arms stretched out towards him like he was waiting for James to run into his arms. And Margaret was leaning forward with her hands clasped together and a sickly sweet smile on her face. But James didn't want to go over to them.

He didn't want hugs or kisses from the two people he didn't know very well. The grandparents that were more on the phone than they were in person. The ones who held his hand too tight when they sporadically took him out. Who were more often than not arguing with his parents or visiting his aunt Maddie. The ones who upset his mum and didn't often speak to his dad.

The three year old paused in the doorway, hands wavering in front of him as he tried to work out what to do. He didn't know whether to back up and cling to his mum or go over and let them hug him.

He didn't have to decide.

The moment James looked up and realised there was another person standing in front of the sink washing a cup, he seemed to become animated again and come back to life.

"It's bubba!"

Excitement flooded James's voice and his arms stretched out as a grin as broad as his arms fluttered across his face.

"Hey, there's my little man." A quiet 'oof' left Bobby's lips when the three year old barrelled into him like a bullet. He leaned down and scooped James up, setting him on his hip so the little boy could curl his arms around his neck and cuddle up close.

He pressed a kiss to Bobby's cheek and clung tightly to his neck, giggling and shimmying when Bobby swayed him from side to side.

Although James could say Bobby, he never called him that. Since the moment he began to talk, he could never pronounce Bobby and it always came out wrong. So James ended up calling him bubba, something which Evan had called James when he was a baby. Now that was James's special name for the person he classed as his grandad. He thought bubba meant grandad and no one corrected him on that.

Just like when he saw Athena, he called her 'nanny Nash' and she loved it.

"How are you, hm?" Bobby kissed his temple and eased back against the counter, jostling James in his arms. His eyes flitted across to (Y/n) when she sat down at the table across from her in-laws who could do nothing but stare at Bobby and their grandson.

"You fix the bike, bubba?"

"I did, it's all fixed and ready for you."

The squeal James let out had bobby's smile broadening and he let James pull him down by the neck so he could snuggle their cheeks together. He murmured "Thank you," and squeezed Bobby tighter.

The glares Bobby could feel being sent his way made him hug the little boy tighter like he was suddenly afraid they were going to try and snatch the little boy from him. He kissed James's temple before he leaned forward and set him down to his feet again.

"I think I'd better get going, I'll be on shift to see your dad soon."

"You leaving?" James grabbed Bobby's hand and swayed their arms back and forth between them for a few seconds, the disappointment clear in his voice which made Bobby shiver. He didn't want to go but he had to, he couldn't impose and he did have to get ready for shift soon.

"I gotta go, but you'll see me at the weekend, okay?" He kissed the top of James's head and rubbed his hand across his back when James let go of him to hug his legs.

Part of him wondered if the toddler was going to let him go or not, but James eventually unravelled himself with a soft "Love you," which Bobby returned.

He watched James clamber up onto (Y/n)'s lap and his smile softened when the three year old wiggled onto her knees and huffed at her stomach which seemed to be in his way. His hands tapped down on the table as he leaned back into (Y/n), curving around her stomach while she kissed the top of his head and wrapped both arms around his waist.

"I'll speak to you soon."

"Thank you." (Y/n) reached up and gripped Bobby's hand when he held her shoulder as he passed.

Part of her wanted him to stay. She wanted back up, help, a friend to stick around until Evan came home. But they both knew it would be easier if he left, and he had to get ready for work, (Y/n) wouldn't delay him just because she didn't want to be on her own with her in-laws.

(Y/n) was ready for a lie down.

She was ready for Phillip and Margaret to either make their departure or for Evan to come home and save her.

She rested her head on her hand and looked across the table at her little boy. James was sat on Phillip's knee, munching on a biscuit, pushing a toy truck across the table. He didn't look impressed, he wasn't settled.

The couple had interrogated James for almost an hour, asking him questions, trying to check on him and how he had been doing. What he liked to watch and play with and of course, James had told them all about Bobby helping him to ride a bike.

"Tv?" James looked across at (Y/n) who reached for a biscuit herself. She didn't like eating in front of Margaret, not after a few years ago when her mother in law liked to tell (Y/n) what she should and shouldn't eat. And she doubted Margaret would agree or listen if (Y/n) tried to say she was eating for three, which she was.

"Go ahead baby."

He needed no more permission than that to scuttle away from his grandparents and rush into the living room.

"Evan should be home soon." (Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair and leaned her head to one side. She tried to smile, but she felt exhausted. She wished she and James were visiting because then it would be easy to make an excuse and go home. She couldn't exactly kick anyone out of her own home, it wouldn't be right and they were Evan's parents, (Y/n) didn't feel like she had the right to tell them to leave. That was Evan's job, his responsibility.

"Why did you let him call him that?" Margaret's words took (Y/n) by surprise.

Her brows furrowed and she looked over at her with confusion in her eyes. What was she talking about? Why did she have that look of discern in her eyes and something foul on her lips?

"Call who what?"

"Bubba."

"Oh, well that's- that's what he's always called Bobby, he could never pronounce Bobby properly." (Y/n) smiled fondly at the thought, even though she knew Phillip wouldn't see this so happily.

It was just a name that stuck, something that James found comfort in calling Bobby. A name that he loved, but whenever it was Bobby's birthday or Christmas or a special event, James would get him a card that said grandad on the front. He saw Bobby as Evan's dad and therefore as one of his grandparents, and that was the way they all liked it.

"But I'm his grandad. You let him run right past me to get to Bobby, and he's not even family. James barely spoke to us just now."

They couldn't blame (Y/n) for that.

It wasn't her fault that they weren't around enough for James to feel like they were his true family, his true grandparents. He couldn't help being close to Bobby when Bobby was always in his life and they weren't as close to him. Bobby had cared for him when he was a baby, looked after him, took him out most weekends and dealt with his temper tantrums and checked in when he didn't feel well.

If Phillip and Margaret didn't bother to check in or be around for most of James's life and the important things, they couldn't expect him to be close to them if they didn't do things in return.

"He is Evan's captain, not his father and James shouldn't be calling him grandad-"

"He's been in James's life since he was born, he's as good as a grandparent." (Y/n) turned away from them, twisting to the side on her chair to stop looking over at them.

"No he isn't, I'm his grandad, you shouldn't let him call Bobby that, it's wrong."

With a scoff, (Y/n) shook her head and used the table as leverage to push herself up. This wasn't fair and she didn't have to sit and listen to them chide her for something that wasn't her fault and wasn't even a problem to begin with.

"How can it be wrong? Bobby's prominent in his life, you see how much James loves him."

(Y/n) threw her hand to the side, wishing she could just project her thoughts and memories into their minds so they could see this from her point of view. They couldn't just expect things to go both ways and want James to be attached to them if they didn't put the effort in and see him often enough.

She padded over to the sink, dumping her cup before she tried to tidy the counter. She needed something to do before they sent her up the wall.

"You didn't even say anything to him. He completely ignored us and you let him, he can't get away with everything-"

"He didn't do anything wrong." There was no reason for (Y/n) to tell James off if he hadn't acted out or done anything wrong. He had been affectionate and happy and he was now entertaining himself in the living room, he had been as good as always today.

With one hand gripping the counter, (Y/n) moved her other hand down to cradle the side of her stomach. She didn't feel very well.

When was Evan coming home? Couldn't they wait for him to have this argument?

"And what was all that about a bike?"

(Y/n) couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes and she was glad they were sitting behind her so they wouldn't see.

"Bobby's teaching him to ride a bike, they had a collision at the weekend so Bobby fixed it for him." She motioned to the hallway but she was rather surprised when Phillip got up and actually went to take a look. As implied, there was a blue pedal bike in the hall that both of them had completely overlooked when they came in.

She spun on her heels when she heard Phillip tut and gasp and her eyes widened when Margaret had tears in her eyes.

Her free hand moved down to her stomach that twinged like a coil within her had been pulled and she let herself slump into the counter to keep herself upright. Adrenaline was coursing through (Y/n)'s stomach and fluttering up to her chest, making it harder to breathe and her fingers were starting to turn numb.

"We could have- I could have taught him. For goodness sake (Y/n) that man isn't family. I'm his bloody grandad."

"Wasn't it Maddie who taught Evan how to ride a bike?" She couldn't help the snappy response or the way her nose crinkled and her upper lip curled into a grimace. They couldn't be pulling this one on her. They didn't teach Evan to ride a bike or show any interest in helping him and watching him grow up. Maddie had been both sister, mother and father to Evan.

That was the reason Evan was so desperate to be there for all of the moments with James. He didn't want his son to feel as left out, cold and alone as he did growing up and it was why Evan wasn't surprised when his parents fell through on their promise to be around for their grandson.

So if Bobby wanted to step into that role and keep up the pretense of being a grandparent and actually love James, Evan was more than happy for his Captain and surrogate dad to do that for them all.

"And he stays with this Bobby on the weekend? You've never let him stay with us," Margaret moved her hand to cover her chest like there was a hollow pain she was trying to blot out and it made (Y/n) feel infuriated.

Dread crept up the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she could feel tears burning in her eyes. She looked around them to try and peek into the living room, but James was none the wiser to what was going on. He was sat on the floor with a few toys scattered round him and a Scooby Doo cartoon playing on the tv, he was happy in ignorant bliss.

"I never- that's out of order."

Both hands moved to her stomach as tears welled up in her eyes from both fury and agony. She was starting to feel like a boombox, her heartbeat pulsing under every inch of her skin making her vibrate. And the twins were starting to shift around so much it was becoming painful. Her abdomen was tense and tight and weighed heavy making (Y/n) want to lean forward more than usual.

"You've never a-asked for James to stay with you." They had never asked, but even if they did, (Y/n) wouldn't agree. James may be a social butterfly, but he didn't settle with many people, only close family.

He wouldn't cope being away from home to stay with Phillip and Margaret, he would be crying and wanting to be back home. Bobby and Athena were different, James had been staying over with them every other weekend since he was one. It was what he was used to, and he was often staying with Maddie and Chimney when she wanted time with her nephew.

(Y/n) reached her hand out when James came toddling into the kitchen, toy truck cradled to his chest and a worried look on his face. He stared between his mum and grandparents, unsure what was going on. But he didn't like the way Phillip had his hands on his hips and how Margaret looked a mix between angry and upset.

"You need to have words with him, (Y/n). You're turning him against us-"

"Stop it."

"Well you shouldn't-"

"Don't shout at mummy." James stomped his foot down on the floor and moved to stand in front of (Y/n). He lifted his chin and looked up at them with a defiant look that matched Evan one hundred percent. He didn't know why they were arguing or what they were talking about, but he didn't like the way they were talking to his mum.

He knew if his dad was here he would of already manouvred in front of (Y/n) and would have told his parents off already. Without Evan here, James felt the need to stop them shouting at his mum.

"Sweetie I- we weren't-"

Both of them paused when a quiet "Oww," tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she hunkered down. Her nails scratched into the kitchen countertop and her other hand pushed up into her abdomen like she was trying to lift up the weight of the twins to relieve the pain she was now feeling.

She couldn't help the way her knees bent forward and she lowered down like she was trying to crouch or do a squat behind James.

The tears welling up in her eyes started to fall freely down her face as her chin tucked into her chest that was starting to shake. Her stomach was hurting, more specifically, her lower abdomen. Sharp, striking pains hit her like a knife and she shuddered through her next breath, begging for the pain to disappear.

This wasn't right. (Y/n) was on observation by the midwife, she was having extra check ups to make sure she wasn't going to go into early labour and to control things if she did. She wasn't likely to make it to her due date with twins and now, (Y/n) had a horrible feeling that this might be labour pains.

She couldn't go into labour now. She was thirty-one weeks, they had two months left before this should be happening, or in the very least, one more month before they should be thinking about this.

Her in-laws were stressing her enough to cripple her body down in pain. If they had distressed her enough to enforce contractions, Evan was going to hit the roof when he found out.

"Honey, what's the matter?"

"I- I don't…" Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) shifted to grip the table but her knees were almost scraping the floor.

She shuffled, bending her feet oddly to get herself across to the chair and she shook off Margaret's hand when the older woman tried to reach out for her. (Y/n) didn't want her help when she was probably the reason for (Y/n)'s sudden pains.

For a few seconds, none of them said anything. Both elder parents stood hovering by the table, unsure what to say or what to do to help. Margaret looked like she was going to reach out for James but he moved quicker. He stood beside his mum, leaning into her just a little in case she didn't want his touch, but he wanted comfort and security at the same time.

(Y/n) tried to take a few deep breaths and ward away the tears, she hated being upset when James was around to see. She didn't want to scare him like that, but when another pain tore through her abdomen, she couldn't help the way she started to shake.

Her body coiled forward and she swallowed down a whimper, moving her hand back and forth across her stomach but it didn't do anything, not that she was expecting it to take away the pain anyway.

"Call Maddie." (Y/n) spat the words through gritted teeth as she stared up at the pair of them through blurring eyes.

"She's at work-"

"Then call 911!" Her voice changed to a low whine and she slammed her hand down on the table to get their attention. She felt the way James jumped against her but he stayed close and did well not to cry too. If Maddie was at work that was better for (Y/n), Maddie could give them the advice they needed and get help. She could do something and call someone because Bobby was now at work and they didn't know if Evan was on his way home or not.

(Y/n) needed help and she needed Maddie if she was going into the hospital because she didn't want Phillip and Margaret to be the ones looking after James.

She needed someone she trusted who James would feel comfortable being around and Maddie was the only person they could call right now when everyone else was at work, including Evan.

Slouching to the right, (Y/n) flopped her right arm on the table and dropped her forehead down onto her arm. She could feel herself beginning to shake when another pain wracked her stomach in a low, dull throb. The first one felt like a contraction, (Y/n) knew what that felt like even after four years. And she would guess that this was some sort of stress pains but whatever they were, she shouldn't be having them.

A quiet mewl left her lips and she wanted to smile when she felt James tenderly kiss her arm and smoothed his hand up and down her back like he wanted to do something to help her.

She wanted Evan. They both wanted Evan.

… Evan could feel himself trembling, legs close to giving way as he rounded the corner and set off into another sprint down the corridor. His hands balled into fists at his sides and his chest was heaving, threatening to strain and break free from his shirt.

The moment his eyes locked on his family, a small puddle of relief started to bloom in his stomach. He felt better for seeing them, but he still didn't know what was going on.

His lips rolled together when his sights set on James. The three year old started to whine and wriggle on Maddie's lap, previously settled leaning into her chest until he realised Evan was finally here. He kicked his legs out and slid beneath Maddie's arms, sliding down to the floor so he could set off into a sprint.

James's arms deadlocked around Evan's legs and he tilted his head back, looking up at his dad with tears in his eyes and his chest panting and heaving.

"Daddy."

Leaning down, Evan scooped James up, allowing his boy to grip his neck and snuggle close into his chest.

"I'm here, I've got you."

Evan danced his eyes around his family. Maddie pushed up from her chair and stepped closer, her hand already on his arm giving a light squeeze to try and calm him down and give whatever comfort she could. Their parents remained seated in the corridor, hands linked together, worried eyes gazing up at Evan as if he was a profit that had just appeared in front of them.

"What happened?" Evan didn't know what brought them all here.

He had only just climbed off the truck after a two hour call out when the shift lead told him to call Maddie because dispatch had gotten through to the station that he had a family emergency. And all his sister told him over the phone was that (Y/n) had had pains and they were taking her to the hospital to get checked out.

He let Maddie steer him a few feet away down the corridor and her eyes flitted to James, but the toddler wasn't listening. He was happily humming into Evan's chest and drawing patterns on his shirt. Evan didn't have chance to change. He had sped from the station down here to the hospital so he was still in his shirt that was black with smoke, damp with water backsplash and tight and crumpled from heat.

"She started getting cramps, the doctor said it was the start of labour pains."

Evan could feel his upper lip curling and he tilted his head back, trying to dull down the ache in his lower chest and the fire burning behind his ribs.

"Why? It's too early… when I left last night she was fine. Where is she?" Evan wouldn't have gone to work if he thought (Y/n) wasn't well or if he'd of known she would go downhill like this. There was nothing to suggest she was going to go into labour and it was too early for that, this would be premature for the twins and dangerous.

Evan bounced James up and down in his arms and cradled the back of his head, tilting his head down so he could kiss the top of his head.

"They've given her something to stop the contractions."

"Thank God, Maddie what happened?"

The way Maddie looked across at their parents made Evan's stomach drop. What had gone on while he had been at work? Something had to have happened, (Y/n) couldn't just go into labour out of the blue when she had been fine last night and there had been no problems before now.

"Mum and dad were round to see them… (Y/n) said they were arguing with her."

"They did this?" His tone was dark but it was the look in his eyes that set Maddie on edge even more.

She watched the way he leaned down to try and set James back on his feet, but the little boy wouldn't let go of Evan's neck. He clung to his chest and wriggled in his arms, whining to try and get Evan to keep hold of him.

"James, baby let go for a minute-"

"They shouted at mummy."

Evan paused, crouching down with James stood between his knees with his arms bound tight around his neck. His hands squeezed James's sides and he kept him close, trying to stay calm.

"What did they say, baby?" He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer or not, but Evan wasn't impressed in the slightest that James had clearly heard something he shouldn't. Had his parents really shouted at his wife? Had they argued with her with James nearby to hear them? Had they upset his wife enough to cause all of this and panic his son too?

"They were arguing about Bubba, and the bike… they were being mean." James leaned his head on Evan's shoulder and pushed into his chest until Evan held him tighter and kissed his temple.

"Okay. Okay, baby you stay with aunt Maddie for a minute, then we'll go see mummy. Bubba's coming soon to see us all too."

Evan shared a look with his sister and he chose to ignore the panic in her eyes while he carefully nudged James across to her. He waited until she had her arms wrapped around him before he got up and advanced over to his parents. Both hands curled into fists at his sides and he took a glance over his shoulder to make sure James was at a safe enough distance away not to hear anything, although that meant Evan was going to have to keep his voice down.

"Evan-"

"I was in the middle of a double shift, and I get a call to say (Y/n)'s in hospital, so I come down here to be told she's in labour after arguing with you. And you have the nerve to stick around? What the Hell did you say to her to cause this?"

He hadn't even finished his twenty-four hour shift before he got called to come here. Evan thought maybe (Y/n) had had some sort of fall or she was sick or having some kind of pains with the twins. He wasn't expecting her to be in labour- which hopefully had stopped by now. And he wasn't expecting his parents to be the cause of all this.

"She got herself worked up-"

"Labour doesn't count as worked up, mum, it counts as fucking stressed out. What did you say?"

"James wouldn't come near us today, he's rushing around with that Captain of yours, calling him his grandad and spending weekends with him. She's turning him against us Evan, we are his grandparents."

A horrid shuddering breath rocked Evan's system. His hands found his hips and his foot began to tap against the floor as he looked up at the ceiling. He could feel his fingers puncturing into his hips and his chest ached at their words.

How were they blaming (Y/n) for this?

She hadn't done anything to warrant any of this. It was their own doing and now they had stressed his wife into labour when she was supposed to be resting and taking things easy until the twins were born.

"Just leave."

"Evan, don't do this, please."

"Bobby is James's grandad, always has been, always will be. He doesn't stay with you because he barely fucking knows you and I wouldn't trust him with you either. Look what you've done today, we'll be lucky if she doesn't go into premature labour now after this." Twisting to the left, Evan motioned his hand out towards James. "Come on, we're gonna see mum."

As soon as James trotted over to him, Evan grabbed his hand and steered him straight ahead. He wasn't stopping to argue and he wasn't having James getting worried or upset any further than this. He wanted to see (Y/n) and make sure she was alright.

He could feel Maddie close behind them and he rapped his knuckles lightly on the door before he headed inside.

His lips curved into a smile before he could stop himself and something warm flooded his eyes when they set on his wife. The moment her arms stretched out for him, Evan let go of James so he could move forward.

Evan almost melted on the spot when (Y/n)'s arms looped around his neck. He wound his arms tightly around her waist, trying not to squeeze too much and cause her any more pain or discomfort. His face burrowed into the side of her neck and he inhaled her scent, smothering his lips against her skin while he felt (Y/n)'s hand run up and down his back.

"Are you okay? What did the doctor say?"

Evan let his weight slump down on the side of the bed and he didn't miss the way the bed groaned beneath him and he felt it shudder when James scrambled up on the other side of the bed.

(Y/n) gripped Evan's hand and opened her other arm out, mumbling "Hi baby," when James crawled up and plonked himself down beneath her right arm. She didn't miss the way Evan's eyes kept moving to her stomach and she gently moved his hand to rest on her stomach. She wasn't tender or made of glass, he could reach out for the twins like he always did without fear of making her feel any worse.

"Contractions have stopped, but I'm here for twenty four hour observation to make sure they don't start again. They're both doing okay."

Evan mumbled his relief before he leaned forward and pressed his lips down against her stomach. His lips curved into a grin when he felt James's fingers brush through his hair, something the little boy had always seen (Y/n) do often.

"Sorry to drag you away from work."

"Hey, if you're not well I need to be here. Bobby's coming down soon, said he'd look after a certain someone for us so I can stay with you."

He could see the panic that fluttered across (Y/n)'s face and he felt her grip tighten on his wrist when she looked towards the door before she looked back at Evan. It wasn't that she didn't want Bobby to come by, of course she did, it was sweet that he cared and that he was willing to help them when he didn't have to. But Evan's parents were outside that door and (Y/n) didn't want another fight breaking out if they saw the Buckleys.

"Evan, you parents-"

"Aren't staying. Everyone who matters is right in here, so no worrying. Everything's okay."

They were all in here and when Bobby arrived, that would be their immediate family right here in this room. His parents had been told to go and Evan doubted they would hang around after what had happened today. He wasn't going to let this happen again.

Talk to Me, Baby

Requested Here!

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

Summary: Your son loves to talk to you. Unlike his dad, Tim, he doesn't try to make you shy.

Warnings: FLUFF! Angela and Tim act like siblings

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

A/N: Happy birthday @sweetheartlizzie07! I hope you enjoy!🤍

“Hi,” your baby boy says as you approach his crib.

“Hi,” you reply happily. “How are you?”

“Hi,” he repeats with a nod.

You shake your head in amusement and lift him from his crib. He’s only a few months old, but he enjoys talking to you as if he understands exactly what the conversation is about. As you carry him into the living room, he clings to the collar of your shirt and babbles quietly. Your phone rings, and you lower him onto a play mat to crawl around before you sit on the floor beside him and answer your phone.

“Hi, Angela,” you greet.

“Hey! The kids and I are in the neighbourhood, and I wanted to ask if we could drop by for a few minutes?” she asks.

“Of course, come on over.”

“Is everyone awake? I don’t want to interrupt naptime.”

“Yep,” you assure. “You’re not interrupting anything.”

“Perfect! Thank you so much!”

You end the call and look toward your son, who is on his hands and knees to press the buttons of a toy phone.

“Aunt Angela is coming over,” you tell him.

“Ange!” he cheers.

“Yeah, Ange. And she’s bringing your friends.”

“Hi!” he says, waving excitedly toward the door.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t get your people skills from me or your dad,” you mumble. “Where’d you learn to talk like that?” you ask him. “All those books we read?”

He nods and crawls toward you, so you pull him into your lap and kiss his plump cheeks. He giggles loudly at your attention, and you continue playing with him as you blow raspberries against his skin. You pull your knees up so he’s upright and kiss his forehead as he calms down from his giggle fit.

“Can I get one of those kisses?” Tim asks.

You look up quickly, surprised to see him. He smiles at you, and you look back at your baby, so he doesn’t see your shy smile.

“If you want,” you answer softly.

“You’re right,” Tim says as he walks toward you. “I don’t want one. I want more than that.”

He sits beside you and takes his son from your lap. You lean toward Tim and rest your head on his shoulder. After he kisses the top of your head, he gives his attention to his son.

“Hey, buddy,” he greets.

“Hi, dada!”

“Angela is coming over,” you tell Tim.

“Friends,” your baby says.

“You’ve got a better vocabulary than Lucy,” Tim praises, raising his voice to a higher pitch that makes your baby smile.

“Boot,” he says, sounding it out slowly, like ‘buh-oo-t.’

“And better word association,” Tim adds.

“He’s going to start calling people boot if you’re not careful,” you say against Tim’s shoulder.

Someone knocks on your door, and Tim raises one hand to help you stand. As you walk toward the door, he holds your son close to his chest and pushes himself up. Angela comes in with both of her kids, and you point her to the bathroom when Jack asks to go.

“It’s almost mama’s birthday, bud; let’s practice,” Tim says behind you. “Happy.”

“Hap,” your son says.

“Happy,” Tim repeats. “Birthday.”

“Hap birth-ay.”

“Good job, my little man.”

You walk to Tim’s side, and when he raises the arm not holding your baby, you wrap your arms around his waist and settle under his arm. Angela may want to talk while the kids play, but Tim just got home, and you’ve been missing him since he returned to work after paternity leave.

“We read Goodnight Moon earlier, and he finished some of the lines,” you tell Tim.

“Because he’s smart like his mom,” Tim replies.

You hide your face against Tim’s shirt as you say, “And his dad.”

“I think we should read him the rook book. Give him a head start.”

“And that’s why we wonder how you ever got married and had a baby,” Angela says as she returns.

“Don’t like the competition?” Tim taunts.

“How do you deal with him?” Angela asks you.

“I usually don’t,” you answer. “He’ll just make it worse if I try.”

“That makes me sound like a horrible husband,” Tim interrupts. “But I’m not. Ask this guy and he’ll say I’m the best dada.”

“Best dada!” he cheers, bouncing against Tim’s arm.

“See?”

Angela shakes her head as she pulls her phone from her pocket. She types something quickly before she looks at you.

“I have to go. Maybe we can schedule an actual play date soon so your genius son can teach Jack that crayons are for coloring and not sniffing,” she suggests.

“Nothing wrong with sniffing crayons,” Tim defends. “It builds character.”

“If you sniffed crayons and turned out like this, I need to make him stop before it’s too late.”

Angela rolls her eyes at Tim as she hugs you, and then she gets a high-five from your son before she leaves. Alone again, you return to Tim’s side and lay your hand on your son’s back.

“I got you something,” Tim says. “We arrested a counterfeiter today who had a ton of books that he used for ink matching, and evidence cleared the books. So, the backseat of my truck is filled with children’s books.”

“Little guy will be thrilled when he wakes up.”

You point to your son, asleep against Tim’s shoulder, and smile. He loves reading with you and Tim, which you accredit to all the time you spent reading aloud while you were pregnant. Tim thinks that’s also the reason he can talk so well already.

Tim walks to the couch with you and sits beside you. Seeing him with your son on his chest makes you fall more in love with him each day, even if he does tease you for watching them. Sitting at Tim’s side, you have a clear view of his profile. When you tip your chin up and kiss his cheek, Tim smiles and turns his face toward you. You kiss him and sigh against his lips.

“I love you,” you say as you pull back.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

“Love you,” your baby says against Tim’s shoulder.

“Has he said that before?” Tim asks, wide-eyed as he looks at you.

You shake your head and quietly scold Tim for trying to wake him up to hear it again. When you kiss Tim’s jaw, your baby boy gets another shot at peaceful sleep, while you fight not to shy away from your husband’s affection.

Giving Zoro Head On The Ship Deck 18+

Aka- Getting dick on the deck

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

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

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

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

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

Authors note:

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

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

Thanks for reading.

First and Second Steps

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!wife!reader (first-time parents!)

Summary: Deacon has missed a lot of important moments, but when you surprise him at work, he gets to watch his baby's first and second steps.

Warnings: FLUFF!!!!!!!!!! (I don't specify if it's a son or daughter, nor the age, so that's up for interpretation/preference!)

Word Count: 1.2k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (we don't get to see Deacon smiling enough, especially considering how pretty his smile is!!!)

“Deac?” you mumble groggily, reaching out across the bed. “David?”

“We’re right here,” Deacon answers from the rocking chair in the corner of your shared bedroom.

“We?” you ask, rubbing your eyes as you turn, following his voice.

Smiling as you see him holding your baby, you toss the covers aside. Deacon has your baby against his bare chest as he enjoys the quality time he can get. You walk to stand before him, sitting on the fluffy rug below the chair.

“I’ve missed so much,” Deacon says, rubbing his hand over your baby’s back.

“You’re an amazing father, David. From the pregnancy check-ups you made it to, being by my side when I went into labor, to right now, you’ve been here. We’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, laying a hand on his knee as you lean toward him. “Besides, not much has happened so far. Other than ‘dada’ being the first word.”

“Because I’m a great dada, right?” Deacon asks, winking at you before he looks down at the sleeping kid on his chest.

“You are,” you agree. “And the massive amount of overtime is ending soon, so when you get back to a regular schedule, you’ll be here for every dirty, smelly moment and the adorable ones in between.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, David Kay, and your baby.”

Deacon waits until you stand, letting you take the baby from his arms. While you feed, Deacon gets ready for work, hugging you both close before he leaves. You kiss his jaw, waiting for his promise to come home to you before you let him go, with another reminder that you love him.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ 

“Deacon,” Hicks calls as he enters the situation room. “Deacon… David!”

“Yeah? Sorry,” Deacon answers, looking up from his phone.

“What’s going on with you this week?”

“I just- I miss my kid and my wife.”

“I can understand that, but your baby’s not brand new. It usually sets in before this, those paternal instincts that make you want to stay close, be there for everything and protect them.”

“I missed so much of the pregnancy, and with this overtime and everything happening, I’ve barely been home since we got home from the hospital. It was a miracle that I managed to be there for the birth, but I’m missing first words and growing. Maybe it shouldn’t bother me…”

“Deacon, your family is your priority, so you decide what does and doesn’t, should and shouldn’t bother you. We’re getting these cases wrapped up, and the moment I can, I’m sending you home for a few days. Until then, just know that we’re here for you, all of you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you. Uh, what’d you need?”

 “Oh, there’s someone here to see you. My office.”

Deacon nods, thanking Hicks again as he walks toward his office. He’s expecting a DA or captain, so when he opens the door and sees you smiling, he rushes to close the door and get closer.

“What are you doing here?” Deacon asks, hugging you tightly.

“We missed you,” you answer, sighing against him.

“Dada!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Deacon replies, turning.

You raise a hand to Deacon’s chest, holding him in place as you both watch with wide eyes. Watching your only (so far) child standing clumsily, you clutch Deacon’s hand as you witness the first step. With a giggle, your baby rushes toward Deacon, falling as he gets close. His superpower-like abilities and dad reflexes allow Deacon to catch his baby before he hits the floor, laughing before he cheers.

“You didn’t miss that,” you say, pressing a hand between Deacon’s shoulder blades. “Someone was excited to see Dada.”

“I’m excited too, baby! You did so well,” Deacon says, turning toward you.

Your smile grows when you see the pure joy on Deacon’s face. This moment makes up for so much of what has been missed, and Deacon’s excitement about being here for the first steps reminds you of why you love him and what makes him a good father.

“May I?” you ask, extending your arms.

“Mama.”

Walking a few steps away, you sit on the floor of Hicks’ office, setting your baby on the floor, hoping to see another race toward Deacon. Following your lead, Deacon kneels, watching happily.

“Maybe I’m more likable than I thought,” you whisper.

“I like you,” Deacon agrees. “A lot.”

Hicks knocks before he opens the door. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

“First steps,” Deacon answers happily. “Maybe second, too, if Mama stops hogging all of the attention.”

“Wow,” you respond, and Hicks advises, “Take it easy, Deacon.”

“Yeah, David. You don’t have to get jealous, there’s enough of me to go around,” you add.

Deacon doesn’t reply, his eyes widening as you slide back, giving room for second steps. After a few wobbly steps, Deacon pulls his giggling baby into his arms, cheering just as excitedly for the second walking trip. You stand, walking to Hicks’ side as Deacon falls into a happy conversation with a miniature version of himself.

“Thanks for letting me surprise him,” you say. “He’s been upset about missing so many firsts.”

“I understand. I wasn’t home for a lot of my kids’ firsts, and it can weigh on you. We’re dads, so not everyone expects us to want to be involved.”

“But you are good dads and good husbands, so you do.”

“Right, and Deacon’s the best of us.”

“I’d have to agree.”

Deacon says your name, drawing your attention to your kid standing before Deacon, holding one of Deacon’s hands out as he steps in place.

“Of all the things you could have given him, you gave him your energy,” you say sarcastically. “Thanks for that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m giving him some time off, so they can wear each other out,” Hicks tells you kindly.

“Hug?” Deacon asks, raising his other arm.

“Hug!”

“Got Deac’s touchy tendencies, too, huh?” Hicks murmurs.

“Oh, yeah,” you agree. “You can’t imagine what it’s like for me. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Hicks smiles before turning away to answer his phone. You stand beside Deacon, smiling down at him as he relishes in a hug.

“Good news, Deac, 20-David just got released from standby. If you want to take the rest of the day,” Hicks begins.

“I do. Thanks, Hicks, see you later,” Deacon answers quickly, standing as he speaks.

With his arm around you and your baby held against his side, Deacon leads you to the locker room, gathering his things quickly before leaving S.W.A.T. HQ to spend as much time with you and his baby as possible.

“Congratulations,” you say, smiling as you kiss Deacon.

“For what?” he asks, looping his arms around your waist.

“Having a great kid and being here for the important stuff.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. And, really, you should be congratulating me for my excellent timing on deciding to surprise you today.”

Deacon chuckles, pulling you into another kiss, leaving a trail of kisses up your cheek before he replies, “I should, shouldn’t I?”

“You’re going to get touchy, aren’t you?” you mumble against his neck as you return his hug.

“Oh, we both are. We have a lot to celebrate.”

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

A Picture of Happiness

Pairing: Adam Karadec x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When your robbery investigation and Karadec's missing persons case intersect, Morgan notices that there's more between you than professional collaboration.

Warnings: fluff, soft Karadec, Melon alert, case involving abduction and drug trafficking

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

A/N: The final scene is inspired by an idea posted by @venommie but I'm also planning a fic based more heavily on it!

High Potential Masterlist | Masterlist Directory | Request Rules/Info

“Oh, no,” Daphne murmurs. She leans back, turning slightly to look into Lieutenant Soto’s office. “Our vic was robbed last weekend.”

Selena sighs, then raises her phone toward her ear. “I’ll bring in Melon.”

“Oz, what’s the latest on the car?” Karadec inquires as he returns to the bullpen with Morgan.

“Still waiting to hear back from the DMV,” Oz answers.

“Daph?”

“The victim was robbed just over a week ago,” Daphne explains. “Part of a string of B&E thefts slowly progressing from simple wallet snatching to larceny. Lieutenant is alerting Melon.”

“Fantastic,” Karadec grumbles. “Are we thinking that the B&E went south? Homeowner was there, they can’t graduate to murder yet, so they snatch him?”

“From that house?” Morgan clarifies, her brows raised. “Not a chance.”

“Even the most prepared people can get caught off guard,” Oz points out.

“He had a Glock in his nightstand, he wouldn’t have let someone get that far into his house, or that close to him, without fighting back. Was there any sign of that?”

“No, there wasn’t,” Daphne says. “CSU isn’t done cataloging the weapons, so we’re not sure if any are missing.”

“I don’t see this guy getting caught off guard,” Morgan muses. “Not by some stranger sneaking in through a loose window.”

“The neighbor who wouldn’t talk to us this morning is in interview 2,” Karadec adds. “Lawyered up, but I think he’s just covering his own-“

“I heard a cry for help,” Lieutenant Melon interrupts, smiling as he enters the bullpen.

“Yeah,” Oz deadpans. “That’s what this is.”

“Quite the robbery spree you’ve stumbled upon. Estimated $2 million in property losses, even higher insurance payouts if we don’t start recovering things soon.”

“What’s the MO?” Morgan asks, flipping through the missing persons' case file.

“Initially, broken window, a few little, moderate risk items stolen.”

Morgan looks up, surprised to hear a voice she doesn’t recognize. She looks at you, then at Melon, then Karadec, and back at you.

“Yesterday morning, reported robbery used a crowbar to pry open a sliding glass door and cleaned out the safe,” you continue. “No sign of forced entry into the safe, just the door.”

“Strange,” Daphne murmurs.

“So, what can the missus and I do for you?” Melon asks. “Solve your case?”

“Missus?” Morgan repeats. She notices how Karadec shifts, pushing his jaw out as he rubs his jaw. It’s evident that he wants to speak but stops himself.

“We’ve been undercover,” you explain. “Trying to get this guy to rob a new, naïve rich couple.”

“Translation: she’d never settle for Melon,” Selena interjects.

“Hey, I’m a catch,” Melon argues.

“More like someone would catch something from you,” Oz adds.

You smile, and when you lock eyes with Karadec, you both shake your heads.

“Yesterday’s robbery wasn’t the same thief,” Morgan interrupts. “The approach pattern was completely different.”

“Approach pattern,” Melon repeats softly.

You look over Karadec’s shoulder to their case board. Tapping the simple black band on your left ring finger, you mentally review the facts of the case. Adding a missing person to a robbery case means the criminal is progressing. If more than one criminal is working here, your job becomes harder.

“Bottom to top,” Morgan says. “Your average thief works from the bottom up. Makes it easier to rifle through drawers because you don’t have to close one to get to the next. That’s where we get the whole ripped apart scene cliché. Yesterday’s case – and our missing person – produced scenes that were relatively neat. Because… any guesses?”

“The perp worked top down,” you and Karadec answer together.

“Right!” Morgan snaps, turning toward the case board. “So, if we remove these two cases… That gives us one planner, someone unafraid to go straight from- what’d he take?”

“From which scene?” Melon inquires.

“Yesterday.”

“Uh…” Melon opens the case file and skims it quickly before he answers, “A pair of diamond earrings, a Degas copy, and a thumb drive. Total estimated value: $14,000.”

“The earrings are most of that,” you add. “Apparently the thumb drive was empty, because the report didn’t value it in any way.”

“No intellectual property,” Daphne agrees. “Then why steal it? Not like they’re expensive or hard to come by.”

“There is something on it,” you realize. “Something he didn’t want the police to know about.”

“Maybe something worth kidnapping someone for,” Karadec adds.

“Whoa,” Melon interjects, raising his hands. “That’s a bit of a jump. It’s a thumb drive owned by someone who is not your victim.”

“Interior,” you say.

Morgan nods excitedly while Melon turns toward you with a sigh.

“The Degas copy was ‘Interior,’ which depicts a meeting between a man and a woman. It’s tense, dangerous, also called ‘The Rape.’”

“Make the connection, dear wife,” Melon pleads.

Karadec tips his head to the side, holding Morgan’s attention with his reactions to how Melon speaks to you.

“Follow me,” you invite.

Karadec moves first, falling into line behind you. You walk into Melon’s office without asking permission, and he scoffs when Morgan and Karadec join you.

“Get over it, Walter,” you encourage, uncapping a marker to alter his board.

“Is this even in English?” Morgan inquires, squinting to read a sticky note.

“Ha, ha,” Melon mutters. “What are we doing here?”

“This,” you answer, circling an address on the board. “The robbery from yesterday. Compare this address to the one of your missing person.”

Karadec’s eyes bounce around the board as he thinks. “454,” he realizes. “They’re a number apart, and the street names are just a few letters off.”

“As if someone had part of an address and was looking for something specific,” Daphne adds.

“And covering their tracks by taking something worth missing,” Oz says.

“He was looking for the thumb drive,” you deduce.

“Why?” Morgan asks. “None of our suspects – none of yours, either – have a clear connection to the victim.”

“Where was the Degas purchased?” Selena asks.

“Art dealer in downtown LA,” Daphne answers.

“Maybe someone should go look for another,” she suggests.

“Like a well-to-do married couple?” you ask, smiling.

“Precisely what I was thinking.”

“Well done,” Karadec says.

“Thank you,” you reply. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I need to feign an interest in impressionist art with my husband.”

Morgan’s eyes widen as she watches Karadec. He doesn’t react as before; instead, he lets you take his hand and lead you out of the office. There’s no sense that he doesn’t want you to touch him, no second-guessing of your intentions, or startled expression. He’s used to that, she realizes.

“So, what’s the deal with Karadec?” Morgan asks, back in the Major Crimes bullpen.

“What do you mean?” Daphne replies.

“He was ready to knock Melon’s teeth out. Followed a certain officer out of here like a lovestruck puppy.”

“Notice that, did you?” Oz interjects.

“What am I missing here?”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Daphne teases.

“Karadec just texted,” Selena calls. “They found something.”

“Need backup?” Oz asks.

Selena chuckles rather than answering, and Morgan slaps her legs.

“Seriously, what am I missing? Are they some kind of dream team or something?”

“What did you see?” Selena asks.

“Karadec longing for her, but- wait. Seriously?”

“Can neither confirm nor deny,” Oz answers. “But the first part wasn’t that hard to notice.”

“What do you see?” Karadec asks softly.

“Some of these frames are hollowed out,” you whisper. “There’s more than paintings in here, but before we start talking, we need to know what it is they’re moving.”

“Drugs or money.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Cover me,” you request.

Karadec nods, straightens his shoulders, and buttons his blazer as he walks toward the man at the desk. You walk toward the back of the store, pretending to look at the paintings as you locate the cameras overhead. Directly beneath one of the lenses, you bend your knees to lower, then run your fingers along a delicately beaded frame. Slipping your fingers over the corner, you examine the narrow slotting in the wood. When you run into a small plastic pouch, you pull your hand back and look at your fingers. The white powder on them could be wood or printing materials, but it’s not likely.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you apologize as you return to Karadec’s side. “There’s just so much to see… to do.”

“Your husband was telling me that you’re a fan of Degas,” the man whose nametag reads Antonio states with a smile. “We’ve got no shortage of quality prints.”

“I saw my favorite at the back,” you reply. “They’re beautiful, very well done. We were actually referred here. One of our friends who shares our appreciation for arts, and its many influences, mentioned that his friend Leonard loved your service and the purchases he’s made.”

“Leonard is one of our best customers,” Antonio responds. “Any friend of Leonard’s is a friend of ours. Perhaps I could walk you through a bit of the influences we’re passionate about here.”

“We’d love that,” Karadec agrees, smiling at you as he traces his finger down your finger beneath your wedding ring.

“Two cases closed in one afternoon,” you muse as you fall into your seat. “Drug running secrets stolen, people abducted to procure more product, the American dream. You’re welcome.”

“We helped solve your case too,” Daphne points out.

You crack one eye open before you argue, “I had to pretend to be Mrs. Walter Melon for no reason.”

“You deserve a medal,” Oz says, shuddering for emphasis.

“You also pretended to be married to Karadec, no?” Morgan asks.

You turn toward her, then look at Oz and Daphne. “She doesn’t know?”

“We’re not legally or morally permitted to tell anyone,” Daphne replies.

“Under threat of bodily harm,” Oz adds.

“Promise of bodily harm,” Karadec corrects. “And, no, Morgan, we weren’t pretending for that part.”

Morgan’s jaw drops, and she turns quickly to look between you and Karadec. She’s observant and brilliant, so you fully anticipated that she would have figured out your relationship status already.

“Breathe a word of it to anyone,” Karadec warns.

“Yeah, yeah, bodily harm, I caught that.” She leans toward you and whispers, “I have so many questions.”

“No.”

“Wasn’t talking to you Karadec.”

He hums, repeats, “No,” and tosses you his keys.

You wave over your shoulder, and Morgan’s excited chattering seems to follow you through the station.

Karadec watches you, spinning his ring on his finger. You feel his eyes on you but don’t say anything as you prepare dinner. When the food is in the oven, you wash and dry your hands, then walk toward Karadec. He looks up at you from his seat, and you smile.

“You’re brooding,” you point out.

“I don’t brood,” he argues.

You hum and move between his knees and the coffee table. Karadec leans back, spreading his knees apart so you can stand comfortably between his legs.

“Want to talk about it?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting to all day.”

“Save the sarcasm, Adam.”

He lifts his brows, barely containing his smile as he lifts his hands to your thighs.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I know he does it just to get under my skin.”

“Then don’t let him,” you encourage, rubbing your hands down your husband’s forearms.

“Not that easy,” he argues.

“Yes, it is. He’s Melon, and I come home with you. Whatever he says or does, just ignore him.”

Karadec nods, and you scratch your fingernails gently over his wrists.

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you.”

“I also threatened to punch Melon today.”

“Should’ve carried through,” Karadec muses. “Sorry for letting him in my head. It’s been a weird few days.”

“I get it. No hard feelings. As long as you’re not grumps.”

“Did you just say ‘grumps'?”

You smile, and Karadec shakes his head as he tugs your hips forward. Before you can catch yourself, he pulls your knee to his side so you drop into his lap.

“Ah,” you murmur. “You don’t like that Melon acts all soft and loving when we’re undercover and you think you have to do it in private.”

“I thought you were a good detective.”

You inhale, playing up your offense at his taunting. Before you can reply, Karadec slips his hand beneath your shirt and rests it against your waist. Lifting your hand, you cup his jaw and lean toward your husband.

“Have anything else you need to talk about?” you inquire softly. “A case? Personal stuff?”

“No,” Karadec answers. “Not right now.”

“Right. No talking.”

Karadec nods, pulling you closer. “That sounds like a good idea.”

You smile, then kiss your husband. He holds your waist in one hand and cups the back of your head in the other while you hold his face, brushing your thumb over his beard and up to his cheekbone. Moments like these are your favorite, and make you remember why you love Karadec so much.

Although your relationship may not be common knowledge, you’re happy, content, and secure. The quiet nights after the long, hectic days make it all worth it. No one notices or questions why you carry around hand sanitizer and keep an eye on Karadec during joint operations. You appreciate the privacy, but they’re missing out on a picture of happiness, love, and pure joy.

I have a (The rookie) Tim Bradford x shyreader request please?

Tim and shyreader just recently start dating and one time when Tim, shyreader and his cop friends are at a restaurant “Denny’s” (I always order pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages with Coca Cola) and Tim cop friends are meeting shy!reader.

Tim is surprised when Lucy and shy!reader have secret new best friends handshake and everyone finds it cute while Tim is being sad and surprised puppy asking himself when did this happen. https://youtube.com/shorts/WUON5Q4HDuc?si=4cot1jSQiyi5F-zI

Such a cute request; thank you! 0.7k+ words of fluff (I couldn't figure out how to make it longer without it being super boring. I hope this is okay!)

Secret Relationships, Handshakes, and Pancakes

“It’s been a month,” Tim points out.

“Five weeks and two days,” you correct softly, looking at Tim’s hands rather than his face.

“That’s worse.”

You glance up at him, unsurprised to see that he’s looking directly at you. He hides his smile and lifts his brows.

“Breakfast with a few of my friends can’t be that bad,” he assures. “I don’t even like spending time with them, but I’m still going.”

You push your hand against Tim’s chest before you ask, “Will Lucy be there?”

“Yes,” Tim answers, wondering why you’d ask about her. He’s told you stories about all of them, but this is the big day (Angela’s words) when you finally meet them.

Nodding, you agree to go, then wrap your arms tightly around Tim’s waist. He uses your grip on him to get you out of the door and into his truck. It’s not that you don’t like spending time with Tim or don’t want to meet his friends, but it’s hard being around new people when you’re shy, and you don’t want to make a bad impression and lose Tim forever.

“It’ll be right out,” the waitress says after taking drink orders.

“Thanks,” you whisper to Tim.

“For what?” he replies, lifting his brows innocently like he doesn’t remember ordering for you.

“Tim!” Lucy calls as the door to the restaurant opens behind you.

You smile and turn, then stand and hug Lucy. She pulls back and offers her right hand, which you take in yours. Tim watches as you shake her hand, then flip your fingers to hold her wrist before sliding your palms against one another. Laughing as you hook your fingers with Lucy’s, then snap, you almost forget that other people are around.

“Um, excuse me?” Angela interjects as she stops beside you. “I want a handshake.”

“It’s reserved for best friends,” Lucy argues. She winks at you as she sits beside you.

Angela groans, then smiles and introduces herself and Wesley Evers. You shake their hands before you lower to your seat. Tim’s eyes are on you, but your neck is already warming, so you keep your gaze forward.

“I was under the impression we were all meeting you for the first time today,” Angela tells you, looking pointedly at Lucy.

“We met at the station,” Lucy explains. “I recognized her from one of Tim’s pictures.”

“When did you see my pictures?” Tim interrupts, momentarily distracted from his internal wondering of how you and Lucy hit it off so quickly.

“Anyway,” Lucy deflects, “Nolan is running a few minutes late, but he’ll be here soon.”

“Did you come up with the handshake yourself?” Wesley asks you.

“I did,” you answer softly. “But it was Lucy’s idea.”

“Were you on the clock?” Tim inquires over your head.

“No,” you and Lucy answer together.

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down to ask, “How long have you been friends?”

“About a month,” Lucy answers.

Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress returning with drinks for the table. After Angela thanks Tim for remembering her favorite, Tim gently taps his elbow against your arm. You turn toward him and interlace your fingers beneath the table.

“So, while I was fighting to get you to talk to me, hold eye contact… you were hanging out with Lucy and making secret handshakes?” he accuses.

“Bet you’re wishing you’d picked up Nolan,” Wesley tells Lucy.

“Wasn’t the goal of breakfast to let us bond?” Lucy defends for you. “We just bonded early.”

“He’s mad that you stole his girlfriend’s limited attention,” Angela explains. She meets your eyes and smiles. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you promise. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Tim.”

Tim sighs and murmurs, “I suppose there will be even more handshakes now.” As Angela cheers, he reaches across the table for a straw and uses his arm as cover to whisper, “I’m the only one who gets secret kisses, though.”

You nod, fighting the shy smile growing at his words.

“Hey, Nolan,” Wesley calls. “Lucky for you, no one else has to talk once John gets here.”

Tim takes your hand under the table, and as his thumb brushes over your knuckles, you know your relationship is better than all the secret handshakes in the world. But then he orders for you, and the women at the table act like it’s the sweetest thing anyone has done since Fitzwilliam Darcy walked to propose to Elizabeth Bennet. You turn to hide your face against his arm.

“Wait, handshakes?” Nolan exclaims a moment later. “I love handshakes!”

“No you don’t,” Tim warns, his hand warm against your back.

𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: author! ransom drysdale x touch starved! girlfriend! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have the perfect cure for Ransom's writer's block.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content! filthy smut, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, swearing, creampie

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

“Fuck!” Ransom slammed his fist down on the dining room table. He ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. With a sigh, he slowly closes the lid of his laptop. He had made no progress on his novel despite working for hours on the first draft, all the words he typed out seeming forced and not flowing right, resulting in him deleting everything and starting over.

“Ransom!” Y/N’s voice rang out, drawing his attention as she entered the dining room. His eyes lifted to meet hers, taking in her appearance in the silk nightgown that stopped just above her knees.

For a moment, he contemplates telling her to leave, but he can't bring himself to do so. Instead, he sighs and runs his hand through his tousled hair once more.

She approached Ransom, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind as she stood behind his chair. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, but he remained steadfast in his determination to meet his deadline.

Her concern and desire were palpable in her tone as she whispered into his ear, "You've been working all night. Come to bed. For my sake, baby?"

He sighed, his lips slightly parting. "No. I've got a deadline. You know how important this book is to me." His stubbornness was clear in his tone, but Y/N wasn't yet done. She knew how much his writing meant to him, yet she was unwilling to give up.

After hearing Ransom's response, her desire to be with him outweighed her concern for his writing deadline. Her hands slid down his chest as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, her lips brushing against his jaw. He still refused to give up writing, but at that moment, all she wanted was for her boyfriend's attention to be directed at her...and her only.

“Ransom, I need you,” she begs, one hand inching closer to his belt buckle. And before she can move another inch, he snatches her wrist, surprising her.

He smirks when he hears her gasp. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?” Still holding her wrist, he pulls her down onto his lap, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her in place. 

While the other glides down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You think you can just waltz in here and I’m gonna give you what you want? Hm?”

“Ransom, please—?” He interrupts her, cupping her mouth with his palm. His other arm still holding her against him, his growing bulge pressed against her ass. “You feel that? That’s all me, baby girl.” She clenches her thighs together, a familiar honeyed heat pooling in her lower belly.

Ransom grins when she doesn’t answer. “Here’s what’s going to happen; you’re going to do what I say, and if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

She nods as he leans back against his chair, arms loosely falling to each side. Leaving Y/N free to move about, but she remains sitting. Eyes pleading for some sign of what she’s meant to do, Ransom takes note, but he says nothing. He hums, his fingers trailing over her shoulders, pushing down the thin strap. “Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to ride my thigh. Show me how much you want me,” he whispered in a seductive tone.

Y/N takes a deep breath and forces herself to move, shifting so she's now straddling Ransom's thigh while he sits in his chair. She can already feel the tension in her own body, as she stares at his handsome face in anticipation. She can also feel the heat building within her as his fingers trail over her shoulders and down the thin straps of her nightgown.

Hands clinging to the fabric of his sweater as she started to move against his leg. Soft whimpers and moans escaped past her glossy lips, and he hummed his approval. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat when his hands trailed up her bare thigh, the cold of his rings grazing the sensitive skin. 

“Mmm. Good girl,” he praised. His hands moved up her sides, dancing under the fabric of her nightgown, slowly teasingly inch by inch. 

With her eyes closed in pure bliss, she threw her head back. He pushed the hem of her gown up, licking his lips as he felt his thigh begin to get damp from her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re doing so great for me, sweetheart,” Ransom groans against her ear, and a moan escapes her lips, rocking back and forth against him faster, losing all composure.

“C’mere,” he drawls as his thumb slides to her front, brushing her swollen lips, collecting her wetness. Ransom smirked devilishly, a hungry gaze overtaking his lust-filled blue eyes when she gazed down at him, finding satisfaction in the neediness her body provided.

She trembled at Ransom's devilish smirk, her breath catching in her throat as his thumb brushed against her swollen folds. As his thumb continued to collect her wetness, she felt herself growing even more aroused, yet she couldn't help but feel vulnerable as she gave in to Ransom and his touch.

She rocked back and forth, her body pressing harder against him as her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her lips seeking his own. Ransom grunted in appreciation and pleasure as he tightened his grasp on her thighs and leaned in closer to her. His hunger for her was palpable in the way he gazed at her with longing and lust in his eyes.

Ransom smirked, taking his thumb into his mouth. His tongue curled around his thumb with a guttural groan. He loved it—craved the taste of her desire. He gripped her chin, forcing his lips on her.

She melted into the kiss, tongues swirling as their breaths melded into one. Y/N groaned softly when the loss of contact, only to shiver when his icy blue eyes pinned her with their intensity.

"Get up. Bend over, arms spread out on the table," he told her after a moment, his voice still filled with lust. But as she started to move toward the table, Ransom pulled her back, turning her toward him again.

"On second thought," he told her, “I want to see that pretty face as I pound into that tight cunt. Face this way, like that... yes, baby—perfect.” His fingers trailed between her slit, his fingers dangerously close to her entrance.

Y/N whimpered when Ransom pressed his knee between her thighs, spreading her open for him. Leaning forward to capture his lips, her nipples hardened against his chest. “Uh-uh. Hands-on the table,” he snapped. “Spread.”

She did as he ordered. He looked down at her, taking her in, and bit the corner of his bottom lip. His mouth pressed into a smug grin. “Fucking perfect.” Ransom slid his hands back down the softness of her inner thigh, gripping tighter as they made their way to the apex of her sex.

Two digits teased her soaked opening, plunging them both inside of her warmth at a slow pace, dragging in and out. Her hips bucked upward against his hand, and he groaned at her eagerness.

Her hands curled, gripping the edge of the table. Her breath grew heavier and heavier as his fingers moved in and out of her. “Mmmm,” she whimpered.

“You are so wet and hot,” Ransom hissed into her ear. “Do you know what that does to me?” She watched him unbuckle the clasp of his belt, her eyes heavy with lust, watching every movement he made, admiring the muscles that danced underneath his thick white sweater as he slowly dragged it over his head and cast it aside.

He smirked at her, enjoying her wanton eyes, needing him as much as he did her. He stepped close to the table, pulling his cock free, and stroking it in his hand. She felt her mouth salivate.

“This is mine... all mine,” his eyes narrowed on hers. He brought the head of his cock against her slit. It jumped and pulsed against her slick core. The hardness was driving her mad. She pouted up at him.

“That look,” He exhaled harshly. “is why I’m going to give you whatever you want. Tell me what you want...don’t hold back. If you want my dick, then tell me, be the dirty girl I know you can be.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, leaned down, and kissed her deeply. “Let go... give into the pleasure. Release the pent-up desires you’ve kept bottled inside.” Y/N couldn’t handle it; she’d gone far too long without having the weight of him over her body and the touch of him upon her skin.

The words flew from her lips freely. “Ransom, fuck, I need you...” she muttered, followed by a quick hitch, “I need to feel it in me.”

He smirked, pleased. “Yeah, baby?” She nodded; the next thing, his cock plunged deep inside of her with a grunt. “Ransom...” she moaned as he pulled back out slowly, leaving his tip to catch on the edge of her throbbing sex.

 Her fingers gripped the edge of the table for purchase when he pushed his way inside, filling her so completely with himself. There was nothing between them, they were one.

Ransom placed his hands on her hips, his fingertips biting into her flesh as he ground his cock deeper and harder against her. She wrapped her arms around his body and held on as he pumped into her.

“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is my dick what you missed when you touched yourself? Did your own hand bring you pleasure?” She mewled out her approval when his thumb caressed against her lower abdomen, making it press harder on the spot that made her head spin faster until, finally, her cunt pulsed with every wave of electricity that crackled through her body. She felt every nerve within her clamp down and cling to his length as it filled her to her brink.

His palms pressed to her breasts, pinching the perked buds as her pleasure rose. Ransom picked up the pace, pushing into her harder, hitting that delicious spot that had her back arching.

“Tell me. I want to hear you say it, baby.” Her walls clenched tighter around his length, sucking him in and not releasing. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, nibbling on the sensitive spot beneath her jawline, earning more melodic moans from her.

“You. I want you, all of you—God, fuck yes,” she cried out as he slowed the pace of his thrusts, holding her still as his pelvis hit her clit. Each time he drew back, it left her needy and wanting. Ransom placed her ankle atop his shoulders, looking down between them as his cock slid into her, glistening with her slick. 

The sounds of their pleasure mingling echoed off the empty walls of the Drysdale residence. Ransom groaned loudly as his eyes closed, letting the sensations roll over him like a thunderous storm. She rolled her hips to meet his thrusts. His balls slapping against her ass. He grunted, loving the feeling of her pussy, the tight heat, and velvety walls.

“Such a greedy girl, always wanting to be full of my cock—fuck! Just like that baby, cumming already...” He slapped his hands onto her hipbones and rode her harder. She could see stars behind her lids, a telltale sign that she was nearing release. 

His mouth dipped low, suckling at the peaks of her breast and pulling one taut nipple into his mouth, alternating between them. “I fucking love these tits...” he mumbled against her skin. “Just seeing you like this—fuck, baby, you make me feel things I never thought possible.”

“I love you, Ransom,” she whimpered when he drove into her in short, brutal jabs. He slowed and stared down at her. He smiled and caressed her face.

“I know,” he said as he kissed her. Her orgasm slammed into her, shattering her from the inside out, and she trembled from the sensation as she lost control of all faculties.

Her toes curled against his back, and her heels dug in. She shook against him and clawed at the smooth wood as Ransom continued to slide into her, slowing his movements while she rode the high.

His chest rumbled in a feral growl as his seed shot forth and flooded her core. He stilled for a moment and waited until he was spent. Pulling from her, he admired the sight before him. His cum slowly seeped from her slit and dripped from her folds onto the floor. A dark sense of satisfaction settled over him, and he gave a smug smile.

When she recovered, she sat up slowly, wincing slightly. Her sore muscles ached, but she felt sated in all ways. Ransom pulled her up against him, wrapping his arms around her. She breathed him in, sighing happily. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Sorry, I got carried away,” he kissed her neck.

She laughed. “No, but I will be tomorrow, but it will be worth it.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused.

“I have a few ideas,” she grinned as she looped her arms around his neck.

Ransom laughed and peppered kisses over her neck. “It seems I created a monster,” he quipped, “but don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of underwear. You knew what you were doing, you little devil.”

“What can I say? When it comes to you, I can be quite needy. Besides, how else would I get you to stop working?” Ransom scoffed, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissing the top of her head.

“You head up to bed. I’ll be there soon. Okay, baby?” he asked. She nodded.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be waiting for you,” she replied as he helped her to her feet and walked over to grab his discarded clothes. He watched as she left the dining room.

Once she was out of view, Ransom sat back down in his chair. As he tried to resume his work, all he could think about was his girlfriend upstairs in their bed. The sounds of her soft cries, the feel of her under his touch. He licked his lips.

Who knew writer’s block could be such a blessing?

As he saved his document, he smiled and shut the lid of his laptop. Work could wait another day. For now, he had something more important to take care of.

banner credit: @.saradika