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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days

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Lonelier in Misery

Part 2 of Lonely in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: After you first date with Tim, you decide to keep your relationship from Nolan and Bailey for as long as possible.

Warnings: brief angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Titles are hard sometimes. This is one of those times.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The morning after your first date with Tim, feigning your continued misery isn’t hard. You miss him already, even though it’s been less than twelve hours since he kissed you and turned your world on its axis. He changed everything, and you never want to go back to how it was before. Now your absent smile and downcast demeanor are because you miss Tim; you miss someone rather than not having anyone. It’s a nice change, but you’re still craving another kiss.

When you arrive at work, Bailey runs across the station to meet you. She pulls you into a tight hug, and you slowly wrap your arms around her in return.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I thought it would work out with Tim.”

“Oh,” you murmur as you realize she’s still making assumptions based on your text from last night. “Right.”

“Don’t take this as a sign or anything, though. I promise I will do better next time! Just tell me what you did and didn’t like.”

“Bailey, you don’t have to set me up again.”

“No, you need someone. I hate seeing you like this. Being lonely sucks, and with our job, we deserve to have a person to go home to.”

“I agree, but a blind date isn’t-“

“You have to give me another chance. Nolan has more friends, plenty that aren’t cops, so I can find you the right guy.”

Bailey turns when the battalion chief calls her name, and you’re left alone again. You’ll have to convince her not to set you up on another date later. The problem is that you can’t tell her why, not unless you want her to insert herself into your relationship with Tim. Bailey is great, she’s your best friend, but she meddles.

You sigh as you pull your phone out. Tim has responded to your good morning text, so you send a quick warning: Bailey wants to set me up on another date since last night ‘didn’t work out’

Tim answers quickly, and his message brings a smile to your face.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle all the dates from now on.

While you avoid answering Bailey’s questions, Tim is dealing with his own line of inquiries about the date last night.

“How did it go? You like her, right? I know you’ve met before,” Nolan asks quickly.

“It was fine,” Tim answers.

“Fine… Is that it? I don’t get more details?”

Tim shrugs and repeats, “It went fine.”

Nolan tosses his hands up in exasperation. Tim won’t elaborate, he already knows that, but he needs to know if he and Bailey were right about their idea that you and Tim would be perfect for one another.

“Sergeant Grey!” Nolan calls. “Bradford and I can deliver the safety brochures to the police station.”

“You want to do a rookie’s assignment for them?” Grey asks, his skepticism audible.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah. I know you’re just going to visit Bailey, though, you’re not smooth, Nolan.”

“Never expected to be. Thank you, sir!” Nolan turns to Tim to say, “Let’s go.”

“Why?” Tim asks.

“Because I want to hear from both of you. Fine isn’t good enough.”

Tim grumbles as he follows Nolan to the shop. “I’m driving,” he yells when he catches up.

You’re restocking an equipment kit near the open garage door when a police car parks outside. As you set your gear aside, you see Tim exit the driver’s seat. You smile at him, but he shakes his head just before you see Nolan on the other side. It’s not a friendly visit, then.

“Good morning,” Tim greets. “We are here to drop off these public safety cards.”

“Great. Thanks,” you reply as you take them.

Your fingers brush over Tim’s and you feel the same jolt as when he kissed you last night.

“Where’s Bailey?” Nolan asks.

“Kitchen, I think,” you answer.

He nods to thank you, then walks past the fire engines to find Bailey. You raise your brows and look at Tim, but he just sighs. It’s not far-fetched to assume Nolan gave him treatment similar to the one you got from Bailey.

“Alright,” Nolan calls. He returns with Bailey beside him, and you sigh with Tim this time. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

“What happened last night, Tim?” Bailey asks. “You get to the restaurant, and?”

“She’s not who I expected,” Tim answers. He glances at you quickly, and you immediately decide to play along.

“Exactly,” you agree. “Blind date usually implies that you don’t know the person. We’ve met before.”

“Okay, but there’s no animosity or anything. You get along,” Nolan argues. “So, why’d you leave just as sad as when you got there?”

“Because I was still lonely,” you answer.

It’s not a lie. Neither you nor Tim will lie, but you’re going to answer the questions without admitting that they were right. They’ll never let you live it down if they can take credit for your relationship with Tim.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t enjoy yourselves,” Bailey says. “But your relationships are your decisions. And I already have another guy lined up that I want you to meet.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Tim winks at you before you speak. He told you not to worry about it, so you won’t.

“We need to get back to the station if you’re done with the interrogation,” Tim tells Nolan.

“Sure, yeah,” Nolan responds.

You wave discreetly as Tim leaves, and your internal countdown to when you’ll see him again resumes.

As you walk out of the fire station after your shift ends, your phone rings.

“Hi,” you answer.

“Hi,” Tim repeats. “Are you off?”

“I am. I’m leaving right now.”

“Then you should come over for dinner.”

“I’d love that.”

Tim texts you his address, and you smile for the entire trip to his house. When he opens the door and pulls you into a hug, you feel complete again.

“Whoa, it smells amazing in here. Are you cooking?” you ask.

“Maybe,” Tim answers. “That depends on if you have any stereotypical views that I can’t because I’m a man and a cop.”

“I think you can do everything and look good doing it,” you reply happily.

“Then, yes, I’m cooking. And thank you.”

You follow Tim into the kitchen and settle at his side as he finishes preparing the meal. Everything looks great, but you’d do just about anything as long as you were with Tim.

“I’m sorry if I pushed everything too far today. I know we don’t want them in our business, but if you want me to stop covering things up, I will,” Tim offers.

“You didn’t go too far. I thought it was kind of fun. Plus, I like being with you, even if we are lying to my best friend.”

“Lying,” Tim scoffs.

“By omission, yeah.”

Tim rolls his eyes but tugs you closer to kiss you. His hands rest on your cheeks and as you move with him, you know that it is impossible to feel sad or lonely around Tim Bradford.

Two days later, you find yourself pacing beside your ambulance. Tim texted this morning, just: I won’t answer for a while.

There hasn’t been anything on the news or the radio channels about big police operations, so you’re left to worry about him with nothing more to go on. You try to convince yourself that he’s just in a meeting or on patrol with someone, so he can’t use his phone, but then your mind wanders to a dangerous situation where using his phone could get him killed.

“Oh no,” Bailey murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you answer, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “I’m just stressing. For no reason.”

“Get your stuff.”

“What? Why?”

“You need a distraction, and John Nolan is my favorite distraction. Tag along with me?”

You consider it for a moment. If you stay here, you’ll just be worried and alone. “Yes, please,” you decide.

When Bailey parks at the Mid-Wilshire station, you follow her inside and force yourself not to check your phone again. Tim will reach out when he can. Someone calls your name, and both you and Bailey stop.

“Hi, Detective Lopez,” you greet when you see Angela.

She hugs you tightly as she says, “Stop, it’s Angela. Especially now that you’re dating my BFF.”

“What?” Bailey interrupts.

Angela’s eyes widen, and she whispers, “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone knew. He told me, so I just assumed.”

Bailey says your name and points at you, ready to accuse you of lying to her and keeping secrets. Before she can, Nolan yells, “Why?!” from somewhere else in the station.

A few seconds later, he walks into the bullpen with Tim following closely behind him. Tim is talking, sternly and meanly, based on his stance. Nolan sees you and Bailey and quickens his pace.

“Bailey,” he begins.

“I know!” she replies. “They’re liars.”

“Why would you lie about that?” Nolan asks.

Tim steps to your side as you answer, “Technically, we didn’t lie. We answered your questions.”

“You just didn’t ask the right questions,” Tim agrees. “Which is part of your job, Nolan.”

“No, no, no. Don’t make this about me,” Nolan argues.

“Wait, so then are you going out again?” Bailey asks.

“And did you actually consider that to be a date? Enjoy it and everything?” Nolan adds.

Tim takes your hand as they continue asking questions, and you wave kindly to Angela as he leads you away. You smile as you follow him blindly. Once he has you away from the bullpen and the endless questions, he stops and pulls you close.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “I’ve been worried.”

“I’m sorry. I got called into a meeting to consult on a UC operation. Everything is confidential, so I couldn’t have my phone on me.”

“I’m not mad. I feel much better now that I know you’re okay.”

“It’s Friday,” he reminds you. “We have another date tonight.”

You nod, and Tim moves his hands, one on your waist and one on your jaw. He dips his chin and kisses you in the empty hallway, and you wonder what did it feel like to be miserable again?

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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ellecdc · 7 hours

Note

just had an idea for a fic/drabble!

poly!wolfstar where reader is self-conscious/insecure about like her stomach being a bit chubby (or something like that) and wolfstar catch her looking at herself in the mirror, and Sirius is all like touchy and hugging and Remus is all like telling reader about how he is insecure about his scars?

idk the idea just popped into my head lol

thank you mother :)

- 🌙

thanks for the prompt, lovie <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who was feeling insecure about her appearance today

CW: poor body image on readers part, discussion of body issues/insecurities, mostly fluff I think

You took a heaving breath as if the simple action of slipping off your jeans and unclasping your bra had actually given air better access to your lungs.

It had been one of Those Days™; a day where every article of clothing felt too tight on your body, your brain felt too critical of your appearance, innocent comments felt too pointed, and your body felt too heavy for your legs to carry.

You spent the day in a state of masochistic self-sabotage by slowing your pace in order to stare at your reflection in passing windows and cars, looking at the disappointing view in the glass doors of the frozen section in the grocery store feeling terribly sorry for everyone else who had to look at you too.

And you were still doing it; even now after shedding your unflattering and restrictive clothing in place of one of Remus’ large jumpers, you stood in front of the mirror and scrutinised your form, hand pulling the fabric tight over your middle exposing the outline of your stomach alerting you to the fact that you were, indeed, no longer a sprightly little teenager.

“Admiring the view, dovey?” Remus asked as he leaned against the dresser to your left; you only tuned in at his petname for you, however, meaning you didn’t realise he had a) asked you something, or b) knew more than he was letting on.

“You’ve got great taste, dollface.” Sirius added as he came up behind you and hooked his chin on your shoulder; eyes roaming your body that seemed equal parts hungry and adoring. “It’s one of my favourite sights too.”

You looked up to meet his gaze in your reflection to correct him, only to realise he knew what he was doing - or better yet, he knew what you were doing - looking at you with one eyebrow arched as if daring you to contradict him.

“What’s that head of yours telling you now?” Remus asked as he positioned himself beside the mirror and admired you and Sirius.

You sighed as you returned your gaze back to yourself, simultaneously annoyed that you couldn’t seem to hide anything from your boyfriends and grateful for the fact that you didn’t seem to have to.

“I’ve not felt very pretty today.” You offered slowly, not daring to look at either of them for their reactions.

Remus hummed in acknowledgement and Sirius tightened his hold on you. “I’m sorry you’ve not felt that way.” Sirius offered cautiously and just as slowly after a beat of silence. “But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t - pretty, that is; you know that, right?”

You made a sound of disagreement causing Sirius to hum sympathetically.

“You’re hardest on yourself, dovey; I think when you spend so much time looking at yourself, you stop seeing the appeal.” Remus tried, causing you to chuckle slightly.

“I look at you boys all the time and I never stop seeing the appeal.” You admitted shyly, causing Sirius to chuckle as he swayed your bodies back and forth.

“I could look at the two of you all day.” Sirius offered salaciously; trailing a hungry gaze over the length of Remus’ body as the two of you delighted in the fierce blush it elicited from your boyfriend.

“I could too.” Remus said somewhat chidingly; his gaze softening as it moved back towards you. “That’s my point; I’m not always pleased with the reflection I see when I stand in front of a mirror - but I very much enjoy looking at the two of you.”

“But…you’re so handsome.” You offered bemusedly, truly not understanding how someone who looked like Remus sodding Lupin could feel anything but gorgeous.

“So you’ve said.” Remus replied with a smirk.

“And we’ve told you how gorgeous you are, so why argue with us? Don’t you think we know what we’re talking about? Two of the hottest blokes snagged the hottest girl around, why are we even talking about this?” Sirius joked, earning him a warning pinch in the side by Remus for his cheek. “What!? It’s true!”

“While I agree it does seem absurd to try to convince such a beautiful girl how truly beautiful she is, Pads, not all of us walk around with an ego the size of Buckingham Palace.”

“Play nice you two.” You chided; placing your hand atop of Sirius’ where it lay lovingly on a part of your body you wished he’d not pay any mind to, though he seemed to feel nothing but love for it.

“You’re the one being mean to our sweet girl, dollface. You play nice.” Sirius replied, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your neck.

“I’ll try.” You agreed, smiling at Sirius in the mirror before flitting your eyes slightly to the left to see your other gorgeous boyfriend watching the two of you with the warmest and softest gaze you’ve ever seen.

You may not always see yourself as beautiful, but dammit when you had your two boys looking at you with that much love and affection, you couldn’t help feeling at least a little beautiful.

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turtletaubwrites · 1 day

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Numbers Game ~ Part 25

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4880

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Dancing took a lot out of you, but maybe you can fit in a break before dinner starts. Wouldn't want to miss the party favors!

Author's Note: I am thoroughly enjoying all this uncle hatred. I wonder how you'll feel after the dance 🤔 !! CW REMINDER !! I hope y’all haven’t forgotten that the Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS!!

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~~~~~~

Hope was forgotten when your uncle’s unforgiving grip forced you to obey.

Mihawk had carried you like a dream, like an artist holding his favorite brush.

Uncle Cedrick carried you like you were a beast to be tamed, a horse to be broken.

“I’m impressed, Y/N,” he lied, holding you close enough to choke you on his cedarwood cologne. “You have outdone yourself. At least you’ve proven that you’re tired of being bored.”

“Everything in your world is boring.”

Your voice couldn’t reach disinterest or disgust. Just that weak, childish retort that made him chuckle.

“I’ll be sure to let Kat know how you feel.”

He let out a tiny grunt when you stiffened, his cold fingers digging in while he fought to control you, to hold up that pretty picture for the sniveling crowd.

“What did you—“

“What did I do,” he laughed, keeping up the pleasant façade. “Your sister has been worried about you ever since you ran off with that homicidal clown. You can’t really blame her, can you?”

“She told you…”

“Of course, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick soothed, cold fingers pretending to be less cruel for just a moment. “Kat knows that I’ll do anything to protect our family. You’re such a smart girl, Y/N. I’m sure you know that too.”

“Our CFO has some duties to attend to.”

“But, of course,” Uncle replied to that deadly voice, giving a nod to Crocodile. He placed your hand into that large, dangerous one that seemed to be vibrating. “I’m looking forward to our nightcap.”

You tugged on that hand like a leash when Crocodile looked ready to tear your uncle’s throat out any second.

He didn’t sell me…

“You needed me for something,” you asked, feeling foggy, lost.

“Need a break, sweetheart?”

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

Crocodile needed to break things.

Couldn’t think. Couldn’t stop to breathe, couldn’t leave a single moment of space in his mind for thinking.

He could only think of this shitty bar that he’d terrorized everyone out of.

Only this liquor.

Only broken tables, broken glasses. The wood, the floors, the ugly hanging lights. Everything broken.

I break everything.

“Gods, damn it,” he cursed, wondering how many things his voice could break.

Crocodile’s hook felt heavy today. He stared at it until he couldn’t take the sight of it anymore, smashing it through the wooden bar, useless splinters raining around him.

His hook.

There’d been blood on his hook. So much blood had been stolen by its sharp point. So much blood had coated the metal, dripping, dripping down.

But that blood...

Monster. He’d already known that. Crocodile had chosen to embrace his worst desires. He wanted to be a bad man.

He had always been a bad man.

Monster’s are untouchable. They shouldn’t care who they hurt. They shouldn’t care whose blood…

“Fuck!”

That blood had long since been cleaned from his hook, yet he could smell it now. Pouring liquor over the deadly weapon didn’t get the stench off. Shattering bottles around the tavern couldn’t take the image out of his mind.

“I didn’t mean to…”

The only thing that could stop this feeling was acceptance.

Get over yourself. You’re a fucking monster. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Crocodile tossed his cigar behind him as he left that unlucky tavern, letting the evidence of his regret go up in flames.

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

“Yes, please,” you nodded, keeping up a smile as Crocodile led you off the dancefloor. You assumed he’d take you to the bar, or to sit at a table, but your face went hot when you realized his destination. “Why…”

“You deserve a break, sweet girl. Let’s get you away from the leeches.”

Too many things. Too many things were happening.

Yet you still followed Crocodile to the conference room that you’d spent most of the dizzying morning in.

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

“Are you alright, sweetheart,” he urged, going to his knees to touch her hair, to see her face.

“I don’t…” Y/N looked at him as if she didn’t understand what he was saying, as if nothing made sense.

“All you gotta do is tell me what you want,” Crocodile rasped. She was the only thing that made sense now. “Tell me what you want me to do to him. Tell me what you need, please.”

I’ve done it again. Violence. All I know.

“You’re not lying,” she asked, her quivering lip causing him physical pain while he held himself back from pulling her against him, forcing her to believe him. “You promise you didn’t sell me?”

His own cruel words filled his mind as he let out a strained breath, head falling back to look at the ceiling before he could move through his shame enough to answer her.

“I promise,” he pleaded, surprised that he knew how to do it. “I wish I hadn’t been a monster to you. You’re everything to me, babygirl. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll kill every fucking leech at this stupid party. I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt you.”

He clenched his eyes shut, struggling to stop his violent heart. Fear gripped him when he looked back at his sweet girl, his breath catching at the sight of her shaking hands, her widened eyes.

She’s terrified of me.

This was defeat. This was what he’d sown, the pain he now reaped.

I’m just a monster.

“I want you to be happy,” Crocodile choked, letting her go. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. I won’t force you to stay. I won’t ever force you again. If you wanna go—“

“Daddy!”

Crocodile couldn’t remember this feeling. Hadn’t known he could feel it.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her soft breath going ragged while she seemed to struggle against tears.

“Shh, babygirl,” he hummed, carrying her to lay across his lap as he sat against the wall, cautious with every touch to that pretty dress. “I’m right here. Daddy’s here. Just tell me what you want, it’s yours.”

It was true. He really would destroy everything just for her. Just for that beautiful spark that was returning to her eyes.

Those lovely eyes fluttered, and she let out a sigh when her body loosened in his hold.

“I want to forget,” she whispered, her unclear words sending tension through him. He couldn’t tell what she needed. “I want you to take care of me, Daddy. Please.”

Y/N reached for his hand, pressing his palm against her chest.

She’s hurting. She’s scared. That piece of shit is making my sweet girl sad.

“I want you to touch me, please.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart."

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

Crocodile seemed just as surprised as you were when you giggled while helping him navigate under your dress.

How could this frightening man feel so comforting, so soothing?

You shoved down the worries those thoughts dragged out. Shoved down the sound of your uncle’s voice, the fear that everything was over.

You shoved it all down, and let him take care of you.

“My sweet girl,” he purred, leaving a barely there kiss to your temple. His extra gentle touches to keep your hair and dress from mussing made you melt in his lap, melting even more when those large fingers teased along your inner thighs.

He was so cautious, searching for you without pulling or tugging at the lovely fabric.

“Just relax for me, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed. His fingertips were already wet after trailing them over your lace panties. “Daddy’ll take care of you. Is this what you want right now?”

“Please,” you begged weakly, needing this. Needing a fucking break.

“Good girl,” he rasped, pushing your panties aside to plunge one of his strong fingers inside of you.

“Gods…”

“Mm, there ya go, sweetheart.”

Trying so hard to be mindful of your appearance, you held yourself quiet, held in your movements, held in everything.

But nothing could hold in the pleasure Crocodile was giving you.

One finger turned into two, and his thumb teased your clit until you had to fight, failed to fight against twitching.

He hushed, and soothed, and praised, staring down at you like you were precious.

Crocodile used to look at you like you were precious. Treasure. His most prized possession.

This was different. There were no more cages, no more chains in those silver eyes. Whatever was there now made you shiver, until you were clenching your teeth to keep from screaming.

His fingers could reach so far, curling around the spot that made you forget. You forgot everything but his eyes, his fingers, and his praise. Everything but the pleasure that rocked through you, arching your back.

“Squeezing my fingers so fuckin’ tight. That’s it, babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. Let Daddy take it all for you. I’m right here.”

Blissful numbness. His warmth, his voice. You would have loved to fall asleep.

“Not yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled while he took out his pocket square. Humming, he cleaned you with that expensive cloth before tucking your mess into a hidden pocket. “Unless you’ll let me kill all the vultures so you can take a nap.”

Another small, but real laugh left your throat.

This isn’t safe. I shouldn’t feel safe.

Yet somehow, this villainous man always made you feel safe.

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

I have to keep her safe. I should send her away, as far from me as possible. I hurt her.

I need her.

Crocodile was a selfish man, and hearing her laugh again made him greedy. So fucking greedy for her.

He’d sworn to himself that he’d let her go, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t a good enough man to hold his tongue.

“Y/N?”

She looked up with fear in her eyes, so he shook his head, smiling softly at her need for comfort.

At his need to comfort her.

“Sorry, sweet girl. I just have something to tell you,” he breathed. A buzzing feeling pushed through his body when her eyes went soft again. It felt as though he were about to lose control, to fall into a million, tiny pieces, leaving his girl with nothing but sand.

“I’ll never be a good man,” he struggled with the truth. He couldn’t lie to her, but he hoped it would be enough. “I’m a terrible man, Y/N, but I wanna be a good man to you.”

The crease between her brows could have meant so many things. He’d pushed himself, straining through those words while he held her in his arms, wanting to hold her forever, never let her go.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Crocodile confessed, these new words slipping out as though they were always meant to, wrapping warmth around them both. “I didn’t know I could love. My heart was as dead and deadly as sand, but now I love you.”

He couldn’t resist touching her beautiful face now, his thumb tracing along her cheek. She didn’t seem to be breathing, but his words, now freed, couldn’t be stopped.

“I don’t know what you did, Y/N, but I’m yours. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always take care of my sweet girl, if you want—“

“Please excuse me for the interruption,” squeaked an usher through a crack in the door, their eyes going wide at the look of death on Crocodile’s face. “The dinner and show are starting, and President Buggy will be introducing you. Would you like…”

“I’d like you to get out of my sight.”

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

The terrified staff member let out a tiny yelp before closing the door, leaving Crocodile to help you up. He went over your dress, making sure everything was in place. You hoped he wasn’t lying when he reported that your face and hair were still presentable, if that’s what, “beautiful,” meant.

Luckily, it seemed that the presence of leeches had helped you regain your ability to hold in your tears.

Yet Crocodile had helped you let out that stress without any tears. Not all the stress though. Not even close.

He led you through the banquet hall while every eye was trained on you. The guests had all made it to their seats, and it felt like trudging through a swamp to keep that perfect smile going, holding it up while you joined Mihawk at the head table.

“Did you two have a relaxing break,” Mihawk purred when the lights went down.

“Behave,” Crocodile teased in a hoarse whisper, and the lightness between them made you shiver.

“Hello again, honored guests,” Buggy called, leaving his feet to hover above the stage. He lounged in the air, as though he were laying across that green, velvet couch.

Guests were already buzzing from this small act, and you saw that satisfied smile grow on your clown’s face.

“We have many mysterious and masterful performers here for you tonight. Please, enjoy your meal, enjoy the lovely company around you, and enjoy the delightful and dangerous show that the Cross Guild has prepared just for you.”

Applause began before he’d finished, and he bowed, taking it in before flying over the tables. The spotlight followed him, and he winked down at you before showing you all off.

“Let me begin by introducing my executives, whose names and reputations I’m sure you already know. You have to know, don’t you? Sir Crocodile, and Dracule Mihawk!”

They glared at the crowd, and you almost laughed.

“And most of you are already lucky enough to know our Chief Financial Officer, the lovely and talented, Miss Y/N Sylvad!”

A flood of memories of being announced at boring parties poured through your mind. Even through the spotlight, you could see those greedy faces. Your name was blood in the water, calling every shark to circle around you, just waiting to take their piece.

Crocodile patted your back, and you realized that you’d missed the end of Buggy’s speech, lost in your own mind.

You hated being lost in there.

Buggy sat on Mihawk’s other side, but he sent his hand behind the table until he found yours, squeezing until you gave him a small smile.

“Breathe, little rabbit,” Mihawk rasped, his voice already enough to make you sigh. “What can we do to help when you’re overwhelmed? It’s going to be a long night.”

“Hurt me,” you whispered, huffing a laugh at the disgruntled noises the three of them made before you explained. “Just enough to get me out of my head.”

You glanced at the swordsman, finding concern on his face that you didn’t want anyone else to see.

“You don’t happen to have a tiny sword you can poke me with if I space out, do you,” you joked, hoping to wipe that concern away.

“Actually, I do,” he chuckled, tapping a finger on the large cross pendant he wore.

“No,” you breathed, having to force your mouth to close instead of gaping at him. “That’s been a blade this whole time?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t hunt little rabbits with a cannon, now would I,” Mihawk teased, jerking his head toward Yoru. “I’ll help you stay in the moment, love.”

“Thank you,” you laughed, another real laugh. This one was cut short by the tension in Crocodile’s hushed words.

“Fuck, I forgot to tell you again,” he started, pulling away before reaching for you in front of the crowd. “We’re starting the bounties tonight, sweetheart. We’ve got—“

Music filled the space, though not too loud, as you still needed the guests to psych each other up. The sword swallowers and fire breathers alternated between hypnotic dancing, and making the crowd gasp with fear and awe at their dangerous talents.

“I know what we’re doing here,” you declared, eyes traveling over all the terrible people in the room. “People are going to die because of me. All for a few berries.”

“This isn’t just for berry, darling,” Mihawk assured, a cold anger in his voice that you could tell wasn’t for you. “The Marines have been abusing their power for far too long. They have declared war on the free of this world. That amount of unearned arrogance deserves to be punished.”

“What does earned arrogance deserve,” Buggy teased, breaking the tension, and allowing everyone to take a breath.

“Keep up the good work, and maybe you’ll find out, pretty clown.”

You had to look away from the pleased shock that took over Buggy’s face, the swordsman’s heated promise making even Crocodile chuckle.

The sight you landed on when you scanned through the crowd gave you a headache.

Shanks was grinning, leaning in close to Uncle Cedrick, those brown eyes far too soft.

What the fuck?

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The red haired pirate was sipping his fourth drink instead of downing it, waiting for his prey.

Waiting while his mind roared, Buggy’s voice echoed through his skull along with Y/N's, his lovely star. She wasn’t in the room when he'd left Buggy backstage again, and Shanks had to gulp down his panic.

Did I already fail?

There he was.

Cedrick Sylvad glided to his seat beside him, giving an annoyingly charming smile to everyone at the table.

Is that what I look like? Fucking–

“Red Haired Shanks, I presume? Or do you prefer your other title, Emper–”

“Call me, Shanks,” he grinned, taking Cedrick’s hand while he tried to exude that image of himself he’d believed in before he came to this cursed island. “You must be Mr. Sylvad.”

He gestured to the card on the table, that dangerous name too unexpected to have been etched onto shining metal like all the others.

“Cedrick is fine, thank you.”

Before Shanks could dig into the man’s brain, all eyes turned to her.

Y/N managed a feat that should have been impossible. She walked beside Sir Crocodile, a giant of a man, a frightening, fascinating monster, yet she was all anyone could stare at. Shanks smiled to himself at how graceful she looked compared to when she tried to dance.

Even as lost as she was, Y/N had something precious about her.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Sylvad.”

“Please, call me Arbo.”

It was rare for someone’s voice to carry that much ease while a known pirate was sitting before them. The man’s eyes held a warmth that seemed to draw people in, even from behind his exquisite and domineering desk.

“How could I resist a meeting with the infamous Red Haired Shanks?”

The pirate’s breathing relaxed, sensing that the friendly banter from this lumber tycoon seemed to be genuine.

“I don’t know about infamous, yet,” he smirked, tilting his head back and forth. “But maybe you can help me with that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t,” Arbo apologized, a wistful smile touching his lips.

“But I haven't told—“

“You want me to procure lumber from a Jewel Tree Adam so you can build yourself a new pirate ship, don’t you? Just like dear old dad did for Roger and Tom way back when?”

Shanks gave a shocked laugh, finding he was enjoying himself, even though his request had been declined so quickly.

“So, why can’t you follow in your dad’s footsteps? We can make it worth your while.”

Arbo shook his head, rubbing the pad of his thumb across some colored lines that marred the wood of his desk.

“My daughter has informed me that ‘the Adam Tree’s are precious, and only bad guys would chop one down,” he chuckled, his brows lifting when he met Shanks’ gaze again. “She can be very persuasive.”

No wonder Roger liked this family.

“Guess I’m out of luck then,” Shanks laughed, letting this tiny dream go with more ease than he’d expected. “Your daughter sounds very wise, how old is she?”

“Too young for pirates,” Arbo scolded with a smile, pouring amber liquid into two glasses. “But I’m not too old to hear a few pirate tales if you’d like a stay for a drink.”

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Why didn’t you get a fancy placard,” Shanks flirted, tapping his fork against the metal of his own nameplate. “If I know much about your family, you should have the fanciest one here.”

I can help them. I’ll help her.

“I don’t need the pomp and circumstance,” Cedrick laughed, a bit of satisfaction curling at his lips. “Seems we share that in common, Emperor.”

“If you’re making fun of my clothes, go right ahead,” Shanks smirked, smoothing his hand over the wrinkles of his nicest pants. “Although, if I make a few friends at this party, I might have more berry to spend on fancy suits.”

“There are only a handful of worthy ‘friends’ in this crowd,” he scoffed, his voice low. “Just what would a friendship with an Emperor of the Sea entail? The world is changing fast, and you—“

“Mr. Sylvad,” cooed a woman half buried in silks and furs. “I had no idea I’d be lucky enough to meet you at an event like this. Isn’t it fabulous? It’s about time something like this…”

The table attacked at that opening, pulling Y/N’s uncle into endless, simpering small talk that made Shanks want to haki the whole place just to shut them all up.

Fuck.

“In case we don’t get the opportunity to speak later,” Cedrick hushed as he pushed a card across the table, avoiding the ridiculous amount of silverware in the way. Shanks winked, tucking it away.

It's something.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

Your clown had inhaled what he could of his meal before flying down to lead the last performances. His voice, his energy, and his wit made even these judgmental assholes smile.

He looks so happy like this. Maybe… Maybe I don’t have to—

“Ow, fuck,” you startled, shaking your hand from the sharp pain. You rubbed a thumb over the back of your hand, the tiniest pinprick of blood showing on your skin.

“I’m sorry, love,” Mihawk rasped, his hands flexing as they stayed away. “You looked like you might cry, and you said—“

“Thank you, I’m okay,” you laughed, gasping softly when Crocodile touched your arm. Turning to your other side, his heavy eyes sent chills over your skin.

“It’s time,” he started, and you could hear the struggle in his words, even over the music and voices bouncing through the hall. You cut him off before he could continue.

“You’re going to be a monster,” you breathed, twisting your fingers on your lap. “But not to me. Never to me.”

An almost laugh left his throat, a tentative, but pleased smirk touching his lips.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

~~~

“Are we all sated? Or are we still ravenous for more?”

Buggy’s voice was twisted now, tempting and overwhelming. Crocodile had joined him on the stage, and the crowd went silent.

“Everyone in this room has at least one thing in common,” the clown noted, spinning a web of wicked words around the guests, pirates and leeches alike. “We all have a desire for more out of life, and we won’t let anyone stop us. No matter what kind of silly uniforms they wear.”

His gestures while he paced the stage were mesmerizing. Your shining star embodied this tantalizing image of what people wanted mania to be, and it was impossible to look away from.

This clown had the vultures eating right out of his gloved hand.

Buggy riled them up until they were practically frothing at the mouth before he tossed the reins to Crocodile.

“You are all people of influence,” he began with a hint of annoyance that faded as he got to work. “You know that times are changing, and we know that you’d like to keep making berry, no matter which way the wind blows.”

Crocodile was captivating in his own way, his deep voice almost taunting. Goading them into playing along, into giving him what he wanted.

“Hear, hear,” a man called out, raising his glass until everyone toasted to money. Always money.

Silver eyes found yours, and you chewed your lip at his little smirk. Crocodile had almost caught you rolling your eyes. You started to scold yourself for not being better at hiding, but it was getting harder to stamp it out the more you saw them, the more you heard their voices.

Maybe…

“Care to lend me a hand with the party favors, Mr. President?”

Buggy cackled, his floating hands snatching the roll of mock bounties from Crocodile’s grasp. Delicious, true laughter fell from your shocked lips, even more when he dropped a poster onto the table in front of you, sneakily tugging your ear before calling everyone’s attention back to the stage. Crocodile stood beside the wheel, using his hook to tear down the large sheet that had been covering it all night.

Buggy stood on the other side, grinning while he pointed his thumbs toward the enlarged poster that was plastered to the wood. A black and white photo of a marine’s face was frowning at the crowd, with question marks in place of a reward. The buzzing in the room grew serious, until silence fell once again when that golden hook tapped against the wheel.

“Captain Tront here has been causing quite a bit of trouble for some of you, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Damned ferret.”

“He’s been a nuisance! All that trade…”

“Honestly, I don’t know what they were thinking promoting—“

“Been costing you quite a bit of berry with his crackdown on your more refined shipping operations, hasn’t he?”

Crocodile looked smug, with Buggy basking in the glow, almost giddy.

What easy marks my old clients are turning out to be...

That name on the posters was one that you’d written down in your notes multiple times. You’d heard so many complaints about the strict Captain Tront, how he’d been cramping so much fun, keeping so much morally gray business from passing through his newly appointed territory.

More voices than you’d expected agreed with Crocodile, then gasped when Buggy floated above the stage again.

“If this little captain is gonna keep costing you all that berry, wouldn’t it make more sense to get him off the seas, and out of your hair? Or out of your wallets,” he suggested, his voice light, but coiled with sinful temptation.

More vicious excitement moved through the hall, the vultures salivating at the promise of more money and power to hoard for themselves.

“How much would you pay for someone to take care of this little problem for you,” Crocodile prodded, stoking the flames of their sick greed.

An auction of sorts began, a competition for who would be responsible, who would be the hero of the day, and take credit for destroying the nasty pest.

The ostentatious Mayor Kottley won out, a surprising contender until you remembered that he traded in bodies. That wasn’t a good that the World Government approved of, no matter how willing the bodies were.

The slaves that the nobles stole for themselves were the exception, of course.

As insufferable as he was, at least Kottley’s goods had chosen that line of work, and were said to be the best of the best. Not being able to send his employees out on their “business trips” had put a damper on his profits.

“Would anyone like to add to the bounty, an extra incentive if the Cross Guild provides express service?”

The fervor with which these pigs fought to pay for a man’s death was sickening to watch.

My work put that face on the board. I’m no better.

“Such forward thinkers,” Buggy praised, his hands floating the contracts down to be signed by the Cross Guild’s first official clients. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Crocodile scanned the signed documents before catching your eyes again, another moment of hesitation.

I’m a bad person too, Daddy.

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Please don’t be scared of me, sweetheart. Please don’t leave.

Crocodile couldn’t stall any longer, knocking loudly on the wheel once more.

“Alvida, bring out the real party favor.”

That gorgeous, wicked pirate smirked while she dragged a struggling body onto the stage, more bruised and bloodied than he’d been earlier. She must have had to keep him quiet while they waited in the wings.

There were shocked gasps, surprised laughter, and a smattering of impressed applause while the guests watched Captain Tront be strapped to the wheel.

She’s gonna hate me.

“Since tonight is a celebration of your generous support, we’ll be holding this execution in person to show our gratitude,” Crocodile announced, noting the gluttony on all those faces. Leeches did seem to be an appropriate word for this crowd. “If you’d rather not witness the dirty work, please follow the ushers to enjoy some after dinner drinks and music down the hall. We’ll try to keep it down in here.”

He chuckled, and the laughter was echoed throughout the banquet hall.

Not a single, wretched soul rose from their seats.

“Guess it's time for the finale,” he smirked, holding his hook to the marine’s throat.

Crocodile couldn’t stop himself. He had to look at her.

Y/N gave him a soft smile that filled him with equal parts shame and pride. A sick pleasure that he knew he should fight.

But he had always been a bad man.

Maybe my sweet girl can be a sweet, little monster with me…

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Morals? Who needs 'em 🤷‍♀️

Part 26

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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nightdncer · 3 days

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“ 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 , 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 ”

✦ synopsis : coming back home from a restaurant , and your horny boyfriend just wants some head on the road

✦ warnings : smut , oral sex , deep throat , pet names , hair pulling , overstimulated , teasing , fem!reader , fem!reader x Satoru Gojo , married , minors + ageless blogs do not interact or you’ll be blocked !

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

“come on, get in.” he commands softly while opening the door for you as you sit and he shuts the door right after you. he then walks to the driver seats and starts driving.

you couldn’t help but to leans against him and rest your head on his shoulder, not excepting much of a reaction from him. after all, you’ve done this multiple times before. rest your head on his shoulder or maybe sometimes lap.

you watched the busy city streets get more and more bigger, causing traffic to start. “we’re gonna be here for a while, dear.” he says, with a slight teasing tone as he ruffles your hair gently. “hmm….” he huma, thinking about something deeply.

and just before you know it, his eyes widen and he starts blushing. “why are you blushing, Toru?” you asks, looking at his face. he sighs softly and shakes his head to the side. “I…” he mutters out, “I wanna feel it again.” he finally spits out his sentence.

you seemed confused until it clicked in your head. he wants head! “seriously, Toru?” you tease, giggling softly. “yes, wifey….” he says, seemingly to be ashamed of him wanting head on the road.

“you’re lucky our windows are pretty tinted.” you commented, before unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers enough to show his length. “don’t get so distracted…” you tease once again before leaning down and letting your lips suckle on his tip.

“f- fucckk….” he pants out, gasping while petting your hair, looking at the unmoving roads. you look up at him to see how he looks like.

𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤.

such a fucking pathetic man who’s trying to focus on the road while getting sucked on by his dear wife. you continued to suck of his tip, just before he forces you to take all of him, while pulling your hair.

he was guiding you on how to suck him off, most likely because he wants so much pleasure. you seems to already giving him a lot even though you just started, him panting and gasping for air. “hah…. ahhh, b- babe…!” he softly whines, already having tears in his eyes.

you slightly gag on him, but continue to deep throat him while continuing to watch his reactions. “f- fuckk…” he says as he gasps for air, “can’t fuckin’, agh…..” he whines again, tears of pleasures coming out of his eyes already.

he lets go of your hair as he stays still in the car, letting you take a breathe as well. you let his length slide out of your mouth, his length brushing against your cheek as his pre-cum slobbers against your cheek.

“oh, aren’t you so horny? just wanting to feel my-” before you could even finish your sentence, he tugs on your hair roughly and forces you to take all of him, causing you to let out a soft yet loud gagging oise.

“yeah, fucckk….” he says, trembling from pleasure as he tries to focus on the roads, even though it wasn’t moving.

he was definitely overstimulated.

“t- too good….” he pants out, as his come flows through your mouth. it was so much and was pretty hot. it obviously tasted sweet.

after all, he eats a ton of sweets and if it’s doesn’t give him a cavity or anything bad, it’ll just create the flavor of his come.

you slid his length out of your mouth, his length having your saliva and his come all over it as you try to swallow it all, but some drips out of your mouth and onto him length. “hah….” he pants out as he’s able to gain composure and he starts driving again.

you suckle on his tip to swallow every bit of him. “we’re…. home…” he says, still panting softly as he zips back up his pant and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“we’re finishing this at home…” he coos in your ear, causing your eyes to widen in surprise, knowing what’s gonna happen next.

#nightdncer #fem!reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

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therealflickerman · 3 days

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Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part three

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: Spiderman takes you for a swing and shows you why he does what he does.

word count: 4.6k

chapter contents: reader is intended to be fem! , language, a little banter and a little fluff, reader is anxious and a mess, idk anything about school in america or school in general, small mention of injury ig

note: Ya’ll I’m so sorry that I haven’t uploaded I’ve been so sick the past few days the fanfic author curse is coming for me, also im sorry yall I gave in, I had to make the reader a little bit of a horror fan. I hope yall enjoy!!

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three (ongoing!)

Your foot taps rapidly against vinyl flooring, eyes locked on the one question that you can’t wrap your brain around, it's a longer question with a few points riding on it, and you wrack your brain as to how you’re going to answer it. You’d flown through the rest of the test with confidence, yes this was partially due Peters and his perfect note taking skills but you’re choosing to ignore this fact. You reread the question before giving into your temptations, flicking your eyes to the front of the room to find the familiar mop of brown hair, Peter seems to have finished his test and now sits tapping his pen against the table softly, he looks so sure of himself, as per usual, and you suck in an anxious breath before turning your eyes back to the test with a newly found sense of determination.

It takes you a moment though you’re now knee deep into the question, letting out a breath of relief as you write away you feel pressure drop from your shoulders.

Finishing up the question you flip through the test, reading over your answers and editing bits and bobs where you need to. You catch the time on your watch and notice there are still twenty minutes on the clock, a small smile curls on your face.

You notice Peter turn in his chair and you look to meet his gaze, he sends you a cocky grin and flashes you a thumbs up before turning it to a thumbs down, trying to gauge where you’re at. You send a smile with a thumbs up in return and he nods softly before turning to look back up at the board.

The bell for lunch rings and you’re quick to grab your things, handing your test to the teacher without a word, you skip a step trying to make it past students as they pile out of the room.

“Peter,” you yell softly across the hall and he barely catches your voice over the volume of student chatter. He turns his head, searching for whoever it was that called his name, a grin curling on his lips as he sees it's you dodging through the crowded hall. “So, how’d it go” you huff, catching up with him, “wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins stupidly and you retort with a, ‘why do you think I asked’ and an eye roll.

“It went great thanks for asking,” his tone is teasing, “how about you”.

“I think I’ll pass,” you grin.

He hums a laugh, “and… do you have anyone to thank for that?” He raises a brow.

Yours furrow as you think for a second, “no one comes to mind,” he nudges you softly.

“I wasn’t planning on giving you the satisfaction but seeing as you though saved my ass” you preface with a smile, “thank you Peter for your notes”.

He watches you with a cocky smile, “You’re welcome.”

Your brain thinks back to the conversation you had with Spiderman last night and you swallow a nerve. “Hey I was thinking maybe we could study together some time,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, sinking your teeth into your lips, you watch him grin. “Were my notes really that good?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and you roll your eyes.

“Forget I asked,” you grin.

“I would like that,” he wears a smile and the both of you sit in an awkward silence for a moment.

“Well I better… I um have to print photos,” he points his camera in the direction of the photography room.

“Course,” you nod, “I’ll see you,” you mumble.

He gives you a wave and heads off.

______________________________________________________________

For the first time in the past week you feel a pressure lift off of your shoulders. Humming softly along with your music you put one foot in front of the other as you walk home, a smile adorns your face as you think of Peter. You’ve had a hard time making friends, putting yourself out there and letting people in. You’ve also spent hours watching as friends study on picnic blankets, listening to the giggle of teenage girls as your mum picks you out ugly sweaters at the mall, watching friends struggle to find a lunch table that accommodates so many people. You've felt the twist of jealousy in your gut more than you’d like to admit and you’re more than sick of it.

You push open the door to the apartment complex, letting out a huff as you start the climb to the fifth story. As much as the stairs hurt, Spiderman's way of getting around is far more frightening and your feet are grateful for their contact with the ground as you stomp up to your floor.

You feel around in your pocket for your keys, wiggling them around in the old lock as they struggle to turn, the lock eventually gives way and you push open the door with your shoulder.

Letting out a content sigh you head straight to your room. Ripping out your ear buds, pausing your music and flopping your phone on your bed before following your phone and collapsing face first. You lay for a second, enjoying the comfortable silence of your room, the only sounds to be heard are the hum of cars outside your window and the low buzz of the fan that you forgot to switch off that morning.

A groan slips from your lips as your phone rings, its volume is jarring and without moving from your position you aimlessly grab for the phone that lays on the bed above your head. Getting your grasps on it you answer and bring it to your ear.

“Hey love, I’ll be home late tonight,” your mum’s voice rings from the other end, you let out a lazy hum in response and she lets you know there’s leftovers in the fridge that you can have for dinner. Oscorp had recently been working on a big new project, something to do with a DNA rebuilding serum, though it was ‘top secret’ and she ‘really shouldn’t be telling you this in the first place’. This meant all hands and deck in the labs, and therefore your mother had been out working hard until two a.m. most nights.

You wish her good luck, telling her you think you did well on your test and that you would see her in the morning before hanging up the phone.

The next few hours manage to escape you, you’re not quite sure how, though you do know what one moment you were studying quite happily, and now you’re sat in your bed with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a pillow clenched between your arms, your face contorted in disgust.

‘The Thing’ plays on the screen and despite having seen it a thousand times it never fails to make you squirm, another body get ripped to shreds as a knock rings out from your widow and you jump, your eyes flicking to the window across the room from you, you spot a body of red and blue standing on your fire escape.

Pausing the film and pushing your laptop to the side you jog to your window, sliding it open the old window with as much muscle as you can muster. “Do you know that you pick the worst times to sneak up on people,” you let him into the warmth of your room.

He lets out a soft laugh, “so I’ve been told,” you can hear the grin in his voice.

Taking a seat on your bed, you give a nod, motioning for him to sit down at your desk.

He swivels the chair and takes the seat, you watch his eyes explore your room, noticing the covers on your bed, the posters hung up on your walls, the bits and bobs that litter your desk. “Nice posters,” you let out a small laugh, “thank you”.

“So, what are you doing here?” you question with the raise of an eyebrow,

“I told you I was going to take you on another swing” he grins, you can hear it in his voice.

“No, no no.” You mumble with a shake of your head, “no way,” your voice is final and a laugh bubbles in his chest.

“C’mon… you’ll like it I promise.”

“I’m not quite sure I trust you” you tease with a furrow of your brows,

“If you hate it I’ll take you right home,”

You sit in though for a quick second with a bite of your lip, “fine, but you take me straight home if I hate it okay.”

“Okay, you got it,” he laughs.

You pull on a pair of shoes and his hand guides your back as the both of you slip out your window.

You brush off nerves with a shake of your hands, looking down from the fire escape, “and you’re like one-hundred percent sure you won’t drop me” you breath looking up to meet his eyes. “I’ve held a semi trailer from Queensboro bridge for half an hour, I think you're good.”

“Show off,” you mumble under your breath.

Letting out a nervous breath you give him a nod, “okay I’m ready,”

“Are you sure becaus-” he starts with a stupid mocking voice.

“Shut up. I’m ready,” you nod with a determined face, he lets out a soft chuckle and places a tight arm around your waist before shooting a web. A small scream escapes your lips and your stomach drops, you slam your eyes shut and your arms shoot to wrap tightly around his neck.

“Holy shit,” your voice wavers as wind rushes through your hair and past your ears, the newly familiar feeling of plummeting to your death sends shivers down your spine.

“Open your eyes,” you can feel Spiderman's voice in your ear. If it weren’t for his mask his breath would run down your neck. “I don’t know if I can,” you yelp, holding onto him tightly as you fall for a particularly long second before he shoots another web propelling the both of your forwards.

“C’mon, you’re missing the view,” he coaxes you softly, raising his voice ever so slightly so you can hear him over the sound of the wind. Hesitantly, you crack an eye and you’re met with the most beautiful view of the city that you love. The lights that reflect off of building windows dance just as the stars do, it's the first thing you notice as you take in the sight, you let out the breath you’ve been holding in as your eyes look to the streets below, your stomach flipping as you notice how high up you are.

Spidey watches you with a soft smile sat behind his mask, his eyes flick to the towers in front of him, focusing on his swinging before flicking back to watch the look that lights up your face.

You try to catch the view as you fling through the streets, your eyes flick through beautiful streets, an open park full of food trucks and people, a church lit up and seemingly holding a late night service, a string of expensive restaurants where the rich eat their meals, you’re seemingly ripped from them every second or so as Spidey swings you through each scene.

The both of you fly upwards swiftly, he swings you both upwards towards a tall building in the heart of Queens that sits higher than its neighbours, your feet land softly against the roof and your arms slowly drop their grip on Spiderman.

“Oh my god,” you swallow a nerve, a breath of relief escaping your lips as a big grin curls on your lips.

“I told you you’d like it,” he watches your face as you take weary steps towards the edge of the tower. “It’s amazing,” you push the words out as you struggle to know what to say, it was like seeing the city for the first time.

“Still terrifying though,” you add with a grin, “I think I peed my pants just a little” you giggle and he shakes his head with a laugh.

“You get to see this everyday,” you watch the busyness of the city below, the cars look like little ants in their respective colonies as they follow the flow of traffic. You can barely see the people about their everyday lives as you sit so far in the sky, though you watch business men and women sitting at desks in neighbouring buildings, all in their own small cubicles, each the same as the story below them.

He hums with a nod, his eyes trail on yours as you watch the world go by.

“I think I like it here where I’m not focused on falling to my death,” you tease, turning to meet the gaze that burns holes into your temple. “I can understand that,” he smiles down at you and this time he’s cursing the stupid mask that adorns his face.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence looking down at the view, the air is filled with the distant honk of cars and chatter of people.

“I asked Peter to hang out… kind of,” you break the silence, you meet each other's gaze, “really?” he asks, putting on a smile and swallowing a pang of guilt. “Yeah… it went well enough” you nod, looking back down at the view, “I mean we have these bursts of awkward moments and I feel like I want to claw my eyes out for even starting the conversation, but I guess that's just a part of it” you shrug.

“Apart of it?” he asks.

“Making friends, being acquaintances…I don't know what we are” you mumble and it comes out as a question.

“You’re friends.”

“What makes you say that?”

He shrugs, “I have lots of friends, I know how it works” he teases and you roll your eyes.

You hum, “sure you do” a giggle escapes your lips.

“I do!” he defends although it’s not entirely convincing.

“That's why you spend all your time with some high school chick that you met on the side of the road.” you tease with a grin.

“That’s because you’re my closest friend,” he mocks, elbowing you softly.

“Some friends you must have,” you giggle and it draws a laugh from his lips.

“We should get back out there,” he nods his head towards the city and you give him a silent nod.

You shut your eyes tightly gripping onto him as he jumps from the building, dragging you down with him.

“Web something asshole!” you shout not daring to open an eye at the velocity in which the two of you were dropping. A smirk grows beneath the mask before he shoots a web to a nearby building and the two of you glide forwards through the air, you force your eyes open and watch as you glide between cars, you send sheepish smiles to civilians as they eat their dinner outside of expensive restaurants before Spiderman slings you both higher into the sky.

The two of you spend the next few hours swinging through each and every corner of Queens, stopping to talk and look at the view before repeating the cycle. You’ve never felt so free and a part of you finally understands why he does what he does.

Your feet land firmly on your fire escape, and you already miss the freedom of the webs.

“Told you you’d have fun” he grins and you roll your eyes, “yeah yeah”, a big smile spread across your face.

“Thank you Spidey,” you nod with a sheepish smile and a wave of shyness flows over you. “Of course,” a genuine grin sits behind his voice and you smile at his words, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a small second before there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. “I’m home love, why are you up this late, who are you talking to?” your mothers voice is muffled through the door and your eyes widen as you place a hand on his chest, softly pushing him towards the window. “Uh, yeah mum just on the phone sorry,” you call out in the most believable voice you can muster in the moment of panic.

“Goodnight” he whispers sweetly and you send him a quick smile, before shutting the window on his face and running to crack open your bedroom door.

He peeps over the bottom of the window, watching as you make up a frantic excuse sending your mum a goodnight and a hug before shutting the door a little louder than you had planned.

He cracks the window open ever slightly, "It's good you stayed calm,” he mumbles keeping his voice low. You turn abruptly and send him an eye roll, kneeling before your window you meet his face on the other side, “go home psycho,” you whisper with a smile and he laughs, “okay.”

He sends you a look before jumping from the fire escape, shutting the window you’re conscious to leave it unlocked before you slide into bed for the night.

______________________________________________________________

When spiderman had promised to take you swinging again he had meant it, in fact you’d practically patrolled with him every night for the past week, he would pick you up from your room or your way home from work, dragging you into the cold so the two of you could explore the city and talk about anything and everything. You had to admit you felt like you were distracting a very important person from doing a very important job though that thought quickly crumbled as you stood wide eyed, watching from afar as Spiderman beat in the face of a man who had been mugging and beating young high school girls who were just trying to get home from school and work. The sickening crack of the man’s nose breaking rang out into the empty alleyway, as did his pathetic whimpered apologies, part of Peter had wondered if he had maybe gone too far that night and if it was maybe because the man's choice of victims struck a small nerve deep inside him.

Needless to say from that point on Spidey didn’t take you out swinging so late into the night, although did make it a habit to visit you every night after patrol.

______________________________________________________________

You tap your pencil rapidly against the plastic of the science room desks, the boy next to you, Adam you think his name is, asks you ‘what you wrote down,’ for the third time that period as the two of you complete the worksheet to go along with the practical the class completed today. You blink for a moment, finding the kindness within you and sliding your booklet his way, “why don’t you just copy it all down,” you give him a pressed smile.

Your eyes flicker to Peter's seat, it’s as empty as it was the last five times you checked and you let out a sigh.

He had been in English class that morning and you had seen him in his usual spot sat by himself during lunch, and you’re sure you’d seen him running through the halls just before this period though his seat remains vacant.

Your eyes flick up as your teacher announces that he’s handing out the results of the Bio test and a smile curls onto your lips.

“Good job,” Mr Khan smiles down at you, placing the test paper on your desk, “Adam, you see me after class,” he musters a smile and the boy looks up from copying your work with a shrug.

“Um sir,” you blurt as he attempts to move on from your desk, “Peter wanted me to grab his test result for him,” you put on the most convincing smile you can muster.

He gives a knowing smile, “I’m sorry but you and Mr Parker should know more than anyone that I don't give out test results to other students, Peter will just have to wait till tomorrow to get his results.”

You roll your eyes as he passes you and you flip over your own results, you find a ‘98%’ in a big red circle and your lips curl into a small smile, you had prayed over and over for a 100% but you have nothing to complain about as you read the 49%, ‘see me after class’ from Adams results and you send him a pressed smile.

Swerving through the slow herd of students, you gently nudge past a group of particularly sluggish friends as they take their time groaning about their science grades and how ‘their parents will kill them’. It had been a long day and you simply want to make it home as early as possible, if you hurried now you’d have a chance of making the early subway and effectively cutting twenty minutes from your trip. Jogging softly you keep your eyes tracked on the ground in front of you, focused on the task at hand, you pay little mind to the quiet murmurs of students that fill the air, that is before you hear the soft spoken name of ‘Spiderman,’ your head shoots up in an instant and you clear your throat softly as you realise you look pathetically eager with your eyes darting around the buildings trying to spot him.

Your eyes soon catch his as he swings past the school and you send him a soft eye roll as a small grin curls onto your lips. The chatter around you rises as students watch him fling through the streets before dying down as they lose sight of him, though your eyes track the direction he swings in and you slip through traffic, crossing the road and heading through the backstreets to meet him.

“You know if you keep showing up around my school people are going to find out you’re having some weird friendship affair going on with a high school student” you sneak up behind him as he stands waiting for you.

You had spent a lot of the past week attempting to sneak up on Spiderman, though you had failed to consider his stupid ‘Spidey-Tingle’, which he had affectionately named it, and how it would pretty much ruin any and all chance you had of getting the payback you seeked.

“Would that really be so bad?” he teases turning to greet you.

“Well the tabloids would either paint you as a big fat pedo or they’d find out about your secret high school student identity.”

“I told you I’m not in high school,”

A sceptical hum slips from your lips and a soft smile curls on your face, a laugh bubbles in his chest and he extends you his hand, “would you like a ride home?” “That would be great,” you grin, taking his hand before wrapping your other arm tightly around his neck.

To say you were at ease now with swinging was an understatement, it took you a night or two to get used to it, the stomach turning feeling, the emptiness between yourself and the ground, now it was by far your favourite part of your day. It was the feeling of freedom you loved the most, it was more than your first car or the moment you turn Twenty-One, it was like flying, like not even gravity could control you, and Spiderman had chosen to share it with you.

At first you found it a little strange that it was you he had insisted on taking you swinging almost every night although the more that the both of you had sat and talked for hours you decided that he must just be young, and lonely, and had found a friend in your company, and you had more than happily made a spot for him in your life.

“Thanks Spidey,” you lean against the window sill of your room.

“Just doing my job,”

You hum a laugh and your lips curl into a smile, “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Course,” he hums and wishes you congratulations on your test results and good luck on our study session.

You hum along to the soft music playing from your phone, laying amongst your sheets you work on finishing up your Maths homework, your brows unconsciously furrow and a lip slips between your teeth as you think for a particularly long minute about the question on the textbook in front of you before you complete it and write it down in your book.

There's a thud on your window and your head swiftly flicks up, a smile quickly plastering itself across your face as you push your work to the side, your homework papers get muddled together but you fail to care as you watch Spiderman slowly crawl through your window.

“How was your night bugboy?” you ask though your smile falters as you watch him clutch his side before collapsing into your desk chair.

“Why do you have a desk if you’re just going to study in your bed,” he teases, releasing a strained breath.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, ignoring his question.

You spring off your bed and come to his side, your hands hovering over his ribs as his own grip them tightly.

He hums in response, “there's this, big… I don't know…” his words roll over on his tongue, “Lizard guy.” His eyes meet your, you can feel his gaze through the mask.

“You’ll see it on the news” he adds, “got me pretty good,” a soft laugh bubbles in his chest, a spit of anxiety bubbling in your own.

“Is there anything I can do,” you feel the wideness of your eyes though you can’t seem to help it.

You hadn’t known Spiderman long though you’d been waiting for the moment something like this had happened, and though he sits in front of you, not a speck of blood nor a tear littering his suit, promising you that he’s fine, you can’t help but feel a small sense of unease boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“What about an ice pack?” you push.

He hums a soft laugh, “I’m okay.”

You nod and the two of you sit in silence for a small second.

“What happened… I mean with the Lizard?” you question, meeting his gaze.

“He was tearing up a bunch of streets, flipping cars and sending them into restaurants, he also sent me into a restaurant,” he hums another laugh and lifts his hand from his ribs.

“Shit” the word escaped you in a soft mumble.

“Did he get away?”

He hums with a nod, “I was helping a kid out of a burning car, and he slipped away. He seems to have gone back home for the night but I’ll get back out there to be sure though,”

“It’s late Spidey…” the words hang on your tongue.

“I know but if he’s still out there…”

“You have school in the morning” you nudge him softly and he lets out a wince of pain alongside a small laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble with a sheepish smile and he shakes his head, “it’s okay,” he laughs.

The two of you sit in silence, you want to say more but you don’t want to push him, he knows far more about what he’s doing than you do.

“I better get going, I just wanted to let you know that I was okay,” he mumbles softly and you can hear the tiredness laced in his voice.

“You go home Spidey,” you whisper

“Okay,” he gives you a nod, “I will.”

You send him a smile and wish him a goodnight.

He climbs onto the fire escape and returns your sweet dreams, “you lock this window okay… I know that you keep it unlocked for me,” he mumbles and you give him a small grin, “okay.”

He gives a small goodbye and swings from the ledge.

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frudoo · 14 hours

Text

Full Hands Pt. 4

Warnings: Mentions of wanting to have children (i.e. get pregnant, give birth, nurse, etc.)

Full Hands Masterlist

You knew the job was temporary when you took it. You were simply filling in as a nanny for the kids until their family was stable enough for the mother to stay home. You just didn’t expect it to be so soon. The man got a notable promotion at his place of work, and the raise that came with his new position meant that his wife would no longer need to sustain a job. You were happy for them, truly—you could see how she clung to her children in the mornings, the sadness in her smile as she bid you and the kiddos goodbye—but you had grown to love these kids like your own.

Yesterday was your last day, a bittersweet thing. The little miss helped you cook a special breakfast of blueberry pancakes, insisting on mixing the batter. To your surprise, she didn’t spill a drop and even helped hold the bowl for you as you dropped some batter into the pan. The now nine-month-old boy, instead of fussing at you to help him eat, decided to be Mr. Independent and grab the bites of torn-up pancake all on his own. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, watching these children grow up so quickly only to withdraw from their everyday lives.

Of course, you’d still see them from time to time, either to babysit or in passing. Their parents had made it clear that you were still their friend and welcome in their home anytime. As for now, you were jobless, posting your information on corkboards all over town and praying that a kind family would give you a call. Even John and your closest friends were keeping an eye out when they could, sending you links to local mom groups on Facebook that you could join and advertise in. So far, nobody was in need of a full-time care provider, so you’ve been scheduled to babysit for multiple families for a night or two.

It’s like the universe is taunting you. Everywhere you go, you see mamas bouncing their happy babies on their hips, daddies carrying their toddlers on their shoulders, parents swinging their children by the arms as they walk. Today, you find yourself at the park where you and the kiddos would frequent, apparently set on torturing yourself. It’s a Thursday so most school age children are in class, leaving only stay-at-home moms and their young kids to roam the colorful chalk-covered sidewalks. There’s so much laughter and giddiness and joy, and-

God, you need a baby. It’s abundantly clear in the way tears spill down your heated cheeks as you watch a little girl, no older than two years at most, give her pregnant mommy an open-mouthed kiss on the belly. A job isn’t enough anymore, not ‘holding you over’ the way you kept telling yourself it was. You crave the bond that comes with motherhood, the unmistakable features of your stature on the face of a chunky baby that you get to call your own. You want to nourish a life with your body, grow and birth and nurse. The desire practically screams for you the way you cry for it.

With a drawn-out sigh, you stand from the white wooden bench and brush the tears from your eyes, wiping the salty residue on your white skirt. It’s about an hour before you’re supposed to go on a date with John, so you decide to go back to your place and clean yourself up a bit. You can feel the dried mascara on your cheeks and you can’t imagine that you look presentable enough to even be in public, let alone on a date with your ridiculously handsome boyfriend. You trudge down the sidewalks and zone out until your hands make the familiar motions of turning your key into the lock of your flat.

You shriek at the sight of a looming figure before you, standing in the complete darkness of your unlit home, and it takes his low shushes and soft chuckles for you to realize it’s just John. You hit his chest softly, relieved giggles escaping your throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in for a soft peck.

“Sorry, darlin’. Thought I’d surprise ya and show up a bit early,” he hums, large, warm hands engulfing your face as he pulls you in for a longer kiss.

You hum contentedly as his hands wander down to your waist, fingernails gently scratching the nape of his neck before you finally pull away with a dazed smile. His kisses tend to do that to you, leave you utterly speechless. You turn on the lamp that rests on your kitchen counter and before you can move to switch on the rest of the lights, John cusps your jaw firmly in his hand, dark eyebrows furrowed in concern. You yelp a little, not from pain, but surprise.

“You’ve been cryin’,” John observes, eyes scanning over your tear-streaked face now that it’s illuminated.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug with a soft grin, gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist to coax him to let go of your chin.

“It’s not nothin’ if it made you cry,” he insists, intertwining your fingers and guiding you into the living room.

John sits on your couch and pulls you onto his lap, rubbing away the black stains on your cheeks with a sturdy thumb. He presses another short kiss to your lips, then your cheekbone, then your forehead.

“Talk to me, love,” he whispers, gaze flickering between your quickly dampening eyes.

“It’s stupid,” you laugh. “I-I just… I miss the kids, and finding new work is difficult.”

It’s not a complete lie—you do miss keeping the children, and finding a new family to nanny for has proved to be a hassle—but it’s not the entire truth either. It’s just that you and John haven’t talked about having kids yet, or anything about the future, really. You didn’t want to scare him off with that kind of talk. The last thing you want to do is add to his already overflowing list of stresses, but he can see right through you.

“What else?” He presses, fingertips running through your hair and massaging your scalp in a soothing motion.

You hesitate before sighing, shutting your eyes which only urges hot tears to spill from your waterline. John tuts, rubbing his thumbs over your eyelids to get you to look at him once more.

“Tell me,” he whispers, cradling the back of your head in gentle palms.

“I wanna be a mom,” you sniffle, a breathy sob escaping your parted lips. “I want a baby that’s mine, not one that I just take care of for a few hours a week, mine.”

John hums, and it’s quiet for a few moments. You cry a little harder, thinking you messed up and now this man that you adore wants nothing to do with you, but your sobs are interrupted by a fit of laughter from the man whose lap you sit on. You furrow your eyebrows, hurt that he thought your confession dumb enough to laugh in your face about. Your worries cease when he nuzzles his nose against yours, peppering short, sweet kisses to your swollen lips.

“If I were a worse man, I’d dare say I told you so,” John grins cheekily, kissing away the tears from your heated face.

“What are you talking about?” You huff, confused by his onslaught of affection.

“Don’t you remember, love? When I first met you and the little ones that day, you just had this… look about you. I could see the love, the longing in your eyes, and I asked if you wanted to be a mum.”

The memory hits you like a freight train, and you remember the way his words caught you off guard, made you blush until you were sure your face was red as a beet. You had forgotten all about it until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, darlin’?” His voice drops to a kind timbre, affection clear in his warm gaze.

“We haven’t even been together a year,” you frown. “I didn’t want to… y’know, scare you away.”

“Scare me away?” He asks breathlessly, his voice cracking, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was in pain.

“Never. Nothing you do could ever scare me away, sweet girl. I would rip out my heart and present it to you on a silver platter if you asked. Hell, I still would even if you didn’t ask me to. Don’t you get it, darlin’? You’re my girl. I would do anythin’ and everythin’ for you. Whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

“Even a baby?” You giggle through a scratchy throat, wiping the snot from your nose with the back of your hand.

“Especially a baby,” he hums with a wide smile, and you trace the soft lines that form around his eyes tenderly.

John cups your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss that steals your breath and all of your worries away, like he’s trying to take the burdens off of you and absorb them into himself. All he wants is your happiness, your smiles, your laughter. If he could, he would take away anything that dares make your lips twitch into something that even resembles a frown. When he pulls back, his grip on your face tightens ever-so-slightly, and his expression turns stern.

“I’m serious about you. Y’know that, yeah? Doesn’t take a year for me to figure that much out,” John murmurs, thumb tracing over your plush bottom lip. “But if you aren’t ready, or even sure that you want to be with me, then-”

“I do,” you interrupt hastily, muttering a small sorry when you see his eyebrows raise in surprise. “I do want to be with you. I’ve known that for a while now.”

“And is that because you really want me, or because I can give you a baby?” He jokes, nuzzling his face into your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle.

You tug at his hair playfully, sharp breaths heaving through your chest as you try to shy away from his relentless teasing. His movements still after a moment and he presses a chaste kiss to the skin right beneath your ear before he leans against the back of the couch. John wraps his arms around your waist and guides you to rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his firm body. He rests his cheek on top of your hair, hands aimlessly roaming your back.

“Marry me,” he whispers after a good moment of silence, and you stiffen.

“What?” You lift your head to look at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Marry me,” John repeats, his bright blue eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “We want to be with each other, yeah? Why waste anymore time?”

“John, I…” you trail off, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

“I love you,” he interjects, rough fingers squeezing your waist affectionately. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’. You’re all I think about.”

Fresh tears form in your eyes, and John’s heart drops. Perhaps he was the one to scare you away with his bluntness. With trembling hands, he wipes away your tears and shushes you sweetly. He thinks that being skinned alive would hurt significantly less than seeing the way your bottom lip quivers as you cry.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, or even at all if that’s what you want. I’ll wait as long as it takes, darlin’, I’ll-”

“Stop talking,” you sniffle, giggling under your breath as you press a finger to his lips. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

For the first time in your relationship, you see him blush, his entire face and the tips of his ears reddening rapidly. He clears his throat and suddenly he’s the one that can’t look you in the eye. You cup his bearded cheeks in your hands and tilt his head up to look at you, that sweet smile he fell so head over heels for adorning your face.

“I love you,” you confirm, and watch as his eyes glisten with unspeakable happiness.

John pulls your face down to lock his lips with yours once more, small puffs of relieved breaths mingling with your own. Your mouth has never felt softer, never tasted sweeter, never pressed so perfectly against his own. All the hell he’s been through, all the hardships he faced, the pain he’s dealt and the wrongs he’s suffered are all worth it now, with you in his arms. If it meant that you would be his every single time, he would spend every life after this one pursuing you until the end of the world.

He just wishes that time could stand still for this very moment so he can cherish it for eternity.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #captain john price #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain john price x reader #john price x female reader #fem!reader #f!reader #cod x reader #captain price fluff #john price fluff #captain john price fluff

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whoopsyeahokay · 10 hours

Text

October Sun

summary: Wally had needed a moment alone since you two had parted ways earlier that morning. it had given him a chance to lay out the facts and finally see what trainwrecks of ghosts he and the others had been.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

blessings, blessings, everyone. i come bearing new(ish) content! 🫶

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.15

Wally skulked into the teacher's lounge, bypassing the gathering in the main space where Mr. Hartman held court. The words 'footprints' and 'service road' filtered above a firing squad of sharp questions as Wally made his way to the back, into the kitchenette, where he grabbed an empty mug off the rack.

Obviously, the police had been in touch. He wondered vaguely if Maddie had heard the news. He hoped so. It would be tremendously weird if he knew something about what had happened to her before she did, the feeling like sludge in his throat.

Wandering back out, he kept an ear open to Mr. Hartman's speech and set himself up at the coffee machine. Filled the mug almost to the brim, added two sachets of brown sugar, and stirred. Placed the dirty spoon in an abandoned, half-empty glass of water and then tucked himself quietly away back in the kitchenette.

Mr. Anderson wasn't amongst the faces Wally recognized as the teachers who held senior classes. A good thing since Wally was still pissed. Never mind that the guy might be solely responsible for Maddie's ghost; how he'd behaved toward you last night left a nasty taste in Wally's mouth. Made his knuckles itch to punch until Mr. Anderson swallowed his own teeth. Until his eyes pulped and his nose caved in. Until Mr. Anderson was one of them.

Although, Wally thought with bemusement, he didn't want to be stuck with Mr. Anderson. If what you'd said was true—that Wally and the others were trapped—Jesus, imagine having to exist for the rest of eternity in proximity to a monster capable of abusing women.

And that was the crux of his somber mood right there, wasn't it?

Trapped.

They were trapped.

He was trapped.

Wally sagged in his chair, staring at nothing. Steam wafted over his chin and cheeks as he took an absentminded sip of his coffee, the heat and bitterness burning when he swallowed. He set the mug down, held it, and continued to stare blankly ahead.

In the absence of your closeness, a chimera of pain-hurt-betrayal sunk its teeth into his heart and spread under his skin like poison, coming to erupt out of him in an uncharacteristically violent display.

The mug crashed against the wall. Ceramic tinkled to the floor. Wally dropped his head into his hands and heaved a dry, noiseless sob that ended as soon as it began.

He was supposed to have had the chance to say goodbye. To his friends, his girlfriend, his parents—fuck. Even though they wouldn't have been able to hear him, those moments were meant to be HIS.

His choice, his freedom, his right.

But, he'd been denied. Locked in with no escape because he'd had the bad luck to die in a place infected by, what, malevolent devil-cult energy? A witch's final hex on the land? Disrespected ancient fucking burial grounds?

According to the notes you'd written him, even crossed-over, Wally would've been able to reach out and reassure his mamma that he was fine. That he missed her and loved her and everything was going to be alright—

The dull sound of ceramic being placed on vinyl interrupted the barrage of hate, rage, grief storming through Wally. Head shooting up, he saw Ajay stepping around the small table to take the seat beside Wally, sad smile and sad eyes mirroring the pain Wally felt.

When he glanced across the table at the wall, the broken mug and splattered coffee were gone. Reset and then remade and delivered to Wally in an unspoken offering of support.

Eventually, "Are you okay?" Ajay asked, slightly accented tone even.

Wally didn't look at him, couldn't find it within himself to fake a smile and pretend. Ajay was a divine kind of perceptive and would see through it in an instant, anyway.

So, Wally opted to avoid giving Ajay an answer by asking a question of his own, "Have you ever thought about why we're having such a hard time crossing over?"

The weight of Ajay's gaze spoke for itself. He didn't say anything for several moments, watching Wally watch the wall—acute, analytical. What Ajay said, when he finally responded, made Wally jump to attention.

"You're talking to her, aren't you?" A statement disguised as a question. Ajay's features conveyed mild amusement.

Wally hesitated and then squeaked out, "Who?" though he could tell that Ajay knew. Had clearly known about you for a while. But, just to be safe, "Maddie? Dawn? Dude, we know a few chicks, you'll have to be more specific."

"Bro," Ajay deadpanned.

"Bro!"

Ajay leveled Wally with a flat look, mouth a slash of disappointment, "Bro..."

Wally's knee began to bounce under the table, sweat beading at his hairline. "Bro?"

"Bro."

Ajay folded his hands on the table and leaned in, as if about to divulge classified information—heavily redacted and for Wally's eyes only, the introduction to which was a kick to the gut.

"My parents," Ajay began, "Were deported the day before my funeral."

Wally released a puff of air from his cheeks, gaze dropping to his lap. His problems suddenly felt minuscule in comparison. "I'm sorry, man, I had no idea."

While it had seemed completely off-topic, Wally considered Ajay a close friend and was familiar with how he operated. Every word he shared had meaning, and, sure enough:

"Neither did I." Ajay said, matter-of-fact. "Her sister was the one who told me almost a decade after they were forced to leave."

Stunned, "Her sister went here?"

"Graduated the year before Katelynn died."

Wally did the math, "Damn, that's an age gap." That put her in her early thirties. Your mamma had either been very young when she'd had your sister, or you'd been an unexpected surprise...Or both. "She can see ghosts, too?"

"Naw, but she can feel us."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"She's an empath." Ajay explained, "She used her senses to feel me out. Apparently, when I'm happy, I smell like my mother's biriyani." He chuckled lightly, gaze distant, fond, tinged in the creases by the hurt of missing someone important.

Wally sipped his coffee and gave Ajay a minute to reminisce. Once Ajay's eyes were focused again, Wally asked, "Was it different for her? Because she couldn't see you, I mean. 'Cause the way my girl put it, she'd get into some serious shit if she spoke to me."

Ajay snorted, shook his head, and waved a hand, "Absolutely not. Ora had to follow the same rule. 'Don't interfere' or whatever." He slouched sideways over the table, head in one hand, fingers of the other tracing nonsense patterns into the vinyl surface.

"But she did it anyway?"

"She didn't see how the rule applied to her. How could she interfere when she couldn't even tell if anything was going on." Ajay rolled his eyes the way people did when they talked about their siblings' antics. "I cared more about it than she did. That's why I never told you." His voice sobered, "I never told anyone."

He got up and fetched himself a drink. Took a glass from the cupboard and moved to the sink to fill it from the tap. One sip. Two. Three.

Back still turned to Wally, Ajay further professed, "I knew she was Ora's sister as soon as I saw her. They could be twins," He shuffled back to the table, sat down, "The resemblance is uncanny, I'm telling you. She looks so much like how I remember Ora." A tender smile, "As soon as I confirmed it, I kept an eye on her. Doing what I can to keep the others from discovering her abilities."

"But not me?"

"Oh, believe me, I tried. But it was like herding fucking cats, man. Something greater than all this," Ajay motioned to encompass beyond the room they were in, "Kept working against me. You two found each other no matter what I did." Aggrieved, "Her sophomore year was a bitch."

A laugh burst out of Wally unbidden as memories of that fateful year rolled across his mind like old film, only now the scenes played from Ajay's perspective.

Yeah. It'd probably been a bitch.

As confident as he was that Ajay wouldn't betray him—or you—Wally needed to be doubly sure: "I guess I don't have to ask you to keep our secret then, huh?"

Ajay mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key, punctuating the promise with a friendly wink. "I'll never utter a word."

Wally breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping both hands around his coffee and relaxing into his seat.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes as Wally collected his thoughts. He returned to the conversation he'd had with you that morning, and then to how Ajay had responded to the question of crossing over. As if he'd been guided to the same truth you'd revealed to Wally. Had your sister—Ora?—figured it out when she'd been a student?

"Why us?" Wally voiced the thought aloud. "Why the school?" He glanced at Ajay who was studying him closely, like a professor watching their pupil solve an unsolvable riddle. "Why can't we cross over?"

"And why did Janet get to?" Ajay granted with a sour line under her name.

On paper, Janet had been as polite as had been expected for a young woman raised in post-war America. All quaint mannerisms and Christian smiles. Voice always set to a reasonable decibel. However, there'd always been a current of disdain underscoring every interaction Janet had had with Mr. Martin.

Of their ragtag ensemble, Janet had been the most hostile toward Mr. Martin's brand of gentle parenting. Unlike Rhonda, who was openly resistant, Janet had playacted through the Group sessions she'd deigned to attend and had giddily punched holes in Mr. Martin's logic whenever she'd had the chance.

It didn't make sense, then, that she had been the first one of them to move on.

"Did you know we're supposed to be able to leave?" Wally said apropos of nothing. "We should be going to movies and bars and, fuck man, I should be able to go to the mall and get a pair of goddamn jeans."

Ajay laughed, adding, "And I could get some real food," with a demonstrative look of yearning.

"Whatever's trapping us here, in the school...what if that's why it's taken so long for one of us to cross over?"

"It makes sense." Ajay shrugged. "Ora never said that it was weird that we couldn't leave the school, but she said enough that I figured it out, and—" He stopped himself abruptly, mouth snapping shut with a clack that made Wally flinch.

Ajay seemed reluctant to continue, eyes zipping left and right as he weighed the pros and cons in his head.

Just when Wally thought that was it, Ajay cleared his throat and scuffed his chair as close to Wally as he could get it without sliding into Wally's lap.

"There's something I think you need to see." He whispered, eyes on the doorway, as if afraid of being overheard.

"Yeah, alright." Wally dragged his chair back and was on his feet in a flash.

Pressing his lips in a regretful line, Ajay nodded toward the clock in the main space of the teacher's lounge. It was empty now, save for a few teachers whose classes didn't start until later.

"Mr. Martin wants us in the gym soon." He pointed out, "But after that, I'll show you."

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. It's just me and you, buddy." Ajay rose and clapped Wally on the back before leading them out of the teacher's lounge and into the hallway. After about a minute, Ajay broke their amiable silence and said, "So, you and the baby Paranormal Activist, huh?"

"I'm telling her you called her that." Wally groused without bite. "And I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh, you don't need to." Ajay assured, "I heard enough about that already."

Wally choked on a swallow. Eyes watering and tongue stuck in his throat, he coughed, "How!?"

"Mina saw you two last night," Ajay revealed, deceptively nonchalant. Before Wally could protest, Ajay signaled that there was nothing to worry about. "She won't say anything. My baby's a vault."

Wally choked again on the endearment, missing a step and staggering forward for two. "Your what!?"

Passive, teasing, "Bro, it's like you don't know anything about me at all," Ajay heaved an enormous, theatrical sigh.

"How does it even work!?" Wally demanded once he recovered. "How long have you two been together??"

With a sly, cheeky look, Ajay simply responded, "Come on, buddy, I'm a gentleman, I don't kiss and tell."

Wally halted on the spot. Sputtered indignantly for a few seconds before he put his hands on his hips and glared at Ajay's retreating back, "Oh, you are such a dick."

💀___________________________

PART FOURTEEN

note: hey my beauties!! thank you so so so so so MUCH for bearing with me as i ironed out the kinks in the plot's fabric. i feel a lot more confident about how to move forward. things just make more sense. i hope everyone is cool with the changes made and that you're still willing to ride this through til the end with meee 🫶

if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Sun

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penkura · 3 days

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Fever Dream [2/2]

Note: Hi! This is part 2 of the request from the lovely @xxchaosjojoxx for Penguin x Reader! :) I finally got it done, I really hope you guys will like it as much as the first part! It may have gotten away from me, sometimes I don't know how to stop myself and just add more parts, that's probably why the WCI chapter of 'knowing' was almost 8k words. :')

Oh well, again, hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 here!

Taglist:

@bby-deerling | @xxchaosjojoxx

Penguin doesn’t think anything is wrong the next day, not at first anyway. He’s finally over his fever with strict orders from Law to take it easy and let others help him out, which he promises to do with the threat of toilet cleaning duty over his head, the thought of asking you or Shachi more than anyone else, especially when he goes to greet you that morning before breakfast.

Only, you give him a wide-eyed look before shouting your own ‘good morning’ and quickly walking past him, saying you’re starving and want to get breakfast right away, when Ikkaku asks what’s wrong. When your best friend sees Penguin is the reason you’ve run to the kitchen faster than she’s ever seen, Ikkaku just smiles a bit, laughing slightly.

“Oh it’s you, Penguin. Morning, happy to see you’re better!”

“Ha, thanks, Ikkaku,” before she gets past him to kitchen, Penguin grabs her wrist to stop her, “Is [Y/N] okay…? She’s never run away from me before.”

“Mm,” nodding, Ikkaku keeps grinning like a devil before Penguin lets her wrist go and she pats him on the shoulder, “She’s doing great, thanks to you.”

Ikkaku doesn’t tell him anything else, not even when Penguin tilts his head in confusion and tries to ask what she means, she just continues on to the kitchen. He follows suit shortly after, catching your eye again and giving you a smile, but it falters when you look away quickly, turning to Jean Bart and asking him something. That’s not normal for you, anytime Penguin speaks to you or gives you a smile, you always reciprocate, you have from the very beginning. When you joined the Heart Pirates you seemed so nervous about everything, Penguin made it his job to help you get comfortable, he didn’t really expect to fall in love with you over that time. He seriously thought you felt the same, that he’d be able to ask you out soon and start courting you.

But now he has to wonder what he did to make you be like this around him. A few of your crewmates notice the difference, shaking their heads at Penguin or snickering over it, especially when you finish your breakfast and take off before he can stop you. It starts to frustrate him, to the point Penguin looks at everyone still around with a frown, though some of them don’t meet his eye (granted they can’t even see his eyes but still).

“…what the hell happened?”

+!+

You don’t stay around Penguin for very long that day, if you can help it. Law paired you both up briefly to wash the dishes, Penguin being surprised when you put your headphones on and ignore him this time. Whenever you do any task together, the two of you would have a blast, chatting or swapping jokes or book recommendations, time flying by and you both feeling like you’ve gotten closer. You’ve been a Heart Pirate for five years now, there’s still so much Penguin has to learn about you he feels like, but if you won’t even talk to him now, it feels like your growing relationship, still a friendship, is starting to backslide.

And he doesn’t know why. You were fine two days ago, what happened yesterday?

“Shachi…” Penguin’s whining pulls Shachi’s focus from his task of checking supplies, Law wanting one more run to the island before you all take off. He barely looks at his lifelong friend before going back to making notes on what the ship could use extra of, since the next potential stop is weeks away from the current one.

“What’s up, Pen?”

“[Y/N]’s been ignoring or running from me all day!”

“Oh yeah?” He snickers a bit, knowing exactly why, Ikkaku had told him and Shachi may have let it slip to a few people who knew how smitten you two were with each other. He really did hope this was the push you both needed to get your relationship going.

“I can’t figure out why, and everyone keeps shaking their heads at me! Did I do something??”

“…wait, you don’t remember?” Shachi stops writing to finally look at Penguin, who shakes his head with a pout.

“No! And if someone says that one more time, I’m going to—”

“Dude, you told her you love her.”

Penguin stops ranting and rambling when Shachi says that, his eyes widening as he barely manages to get a quiet ‘huh’ out before his friend nods.

“Ikkaku said that [Y/N] told her you thought she was Ikka, and were asking how to tell her that you love her—”

“I don’t—” Penguin feels his face turning red and starts to pull his hat down over his face.

“—and then you kissed her before passing out from your fever. That’s the basic gist of it, man.”

Shachi is somewhat amused seeing Penguin fully cover his face with his hat, a bright red blush showing through what’s visible. Twenty-eight and still nervous as hell when it came to romance, no matter how times he’s flirted with other women in the past, it stopped the second he met you when you joined them. It was like a flip switched in Penguin’s brain that told him ‘she’s the one!’ and he’s been enamored with you ever since.

Not like you didn’t feel the same, he’d heard it from Ikkaku constantly. She tells him everything about what you say regarding Penguin, how much you like him back and wish you could make a move but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship in the process. A fair reason, though if you’d only known sooner how in love Penguin was, you probably wouldn’t be running from him all day. Penguin probably wouldn’t be going through such mental anguish and feeling like he’s done a terrible thing by kissing you like that.

He keeps muttering about how that was so wrong, he messed up, you must hate him now. How could you not? He probably just stole your first kiss! And without even asking if he could kiss you! That wasn’t fair to you, he just feels awful about it.

Letting him have a few minutes, Shachi eventually pats Penguin on the shoulder, giving him a smile.

“You should go sit down and talk to her. You guys need to work this out, but I doubt she’s mad at you.”

“Shach—”

“She’s probably more embarrassed than anything, based on what Ikka told me. So just go give it your best shot, Pen.”

+!+

Law pairs you up again that day to work on the crew’s laundry, something that shouldn’t take long or cause Penguin enough stress to make his fever come back. The only thing really stressing him out is the fact you still haven’t really spoken to him, except when you tell him you’re taking clothes to their respective owners. The few times you leave to do so, he tries to hype himself up and convince himself to just talk to you, see if you’re mad or if you’re willing to work things out with him.

When you come back the last time, no headphones in sight, he feels like he has a chance.

“Captain wants me to help him with something, can you finish here?”

His shoulders slump and he’s about to say that he’ll be fine, but instead Penguin shakes his head.

“No, uh, I mean, yeah I can, but…can we talk?”

You bite your lip a bit, Penguin not looking at you, and you shake your head slightly.

“What’s there to talk about? You were sick, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“But what I did was wrong, even if it was because of my fever.”

The way he sounds when he speaks almost sets you off, you almost start telling him that no it wasn’t a big deal, you have the same feelings for him. You were just shocked he returned them! Okay maybe a little embarrassed still, but that was all on you, he’s the first person you’ve ever kissed, you don’t know how to handle it yet.

“I,” you want to tell Penguin he really didn’t do anything wrong, but even though you can’t see his eyes for that hat, you feel like he’s giving you puppy dog eyes and you’re going to absolutely break down and try to kiss him if this keeps up, “I need to go!”

“No, wait, please!!” Penguin grabs your arm, nearly begging you to stay, “I…I’m sorry for kissing you! But I…I love you! So please…stop running away from me.”

You’re both silent for several minutes, you still don’t look at Penguin and it makes him so much more anxious. He needed to apologize, right? That would fix it, it would fix everything. He was delusional and didn’t think that fever dream was reality, he made a mistake and kissed you without permission or knowing he was even doing it. He felt so bad about it, that’s not how it should’ve gone!

“This wasn’t…how I wanted to tell you…”

“…how did you want to tell me?”

“I…I wanted to take you on a date,” he quietly speaks, while you turn around and watch him, Penguin doesn’t lift his head to look at you, “I was going to take you out yesterday but, well, you know…”

“Yeah, I know,” the laugh you give when you respond makes Penguin finally look back to you, he’s almost shocked to see the blush on your face as you slip your hand into his and lace your fingers together, “I would’ve said yes, if you asked.”

“…yeah?”

Nodding, you let Penguin pull you closer to himself, slipping his other arm around your shoulders in a hug that you return. He’s honestly glad to hear that you’d agree to a date with him, finally deciding to ask you today.

“So…will you go out with me tomorrow? Before we leave the island.”

“I’d like nothing more, Penguin.”

“And,” he takes a breath and sets his forehead against your own, giving you a better look at his pretty blue eyes and the blush across his own face while you smile, “Can I kiss you…for real this time?”

You giggle a but and nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“To your heart’s content.”

You’ll probably have to talk about things more later, but the grin Penguin gives you before properly kissing you makes you forget about anything else you wanted to say.

At least until Law comes looking for you and has to break you apart before you two take things too far, deciding that he’s not going to be pairing you up for tasks again anytime soon. You and Penguin making out isn’t what he meant by taking it easy.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #penguin x reader #op penguin x reader #fem!reader

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allisluv · 16 hours

Note

Haymitch giving you a goose for your birthday because he doesn't know what to give you 😭

ANON IM CACKLING YOURE SO RIGHT!!! haymitch doesn’t know how to express his feelings so he gives people geese as his love language — but if you point that out hes saying that he needed to get rid of them anyway 😭🫶

#the hunger games #grace talks🐚🌷#thg #headcanons #fem!reader #hcs #haymitch abernathy

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bunnis-monsters · 1 day

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Just find it so cute when a puppy!hybrid does something wrong so they roll onto their back and expose their belly hoping you’ll forgive them by showing submission…

And it’s hard to stay mad at them when they’re making kneading motions in the air and giving you those puppy dog eyes… but fortunately you’re a human, not a hybrid, and those puppy mannerisms only get them so far.

So you get on top and punish them with blowing raspberries on their belly, keeping them pinned under you. They yelp and squeal, kicking their legs and letting out little barks until you pull away, satisfied.

“Stop chewing up my stuff, pup. You know better. Next time, I’ll bite you too.”

But this just makes them all horny, feeling hot and bothered at your asserting yourself…

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angelsright · 1 day

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𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Satoru Gojo x Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: Fem! Reader, Established Relationship, Just Fluff, Mentions of Geto, I turned it into angst halfway through🥲

Satoru Gojo who brings you treats when he comes home from jujutsu high or whenever he comes back from a mission.

Satoru Gojo who comes to you for comfort for whenever he misses Geto.

Satoru Gojo who complains whenever you eat his sweets.

Satoru Gojo who tries to comfort you whenever he sees you’re struggling or hurting.

Satoru Gojo who doesn’t know how to raise kids.

Satoru Gojo who struggles with communication to his students and wife.

Satoru Gojo who gets offended when you don’t answer his text messages in 0.2 seconds. (He thinks you’re leaving him like Geto)

Satoru Gojo who annoys you on a daily but you still love him.

Satoru Gojo who doesn’t know what personal space is.

Satoru Gojo who you love but want to kick off the bed because he takes up too much space.

Satoru Gojo who side eyes you whenever you show him your favorite male actor.

Satoru Gojo who will love you no matter what, even in the afterlife.

Satoru Gojo who reassures you that he’s never dying.

Satoru Gojo who loves to tease you about things but never let’s anyone tease you.

Satoru Gojo who just hands you his credit card whenever you need something from the store.

Satoru Gojo who brings a gift back home everyday. Whether it be flowers or a new set of jewelry.

Satoru Gojo who makes sure you’re well taken care of without the worrying of bills.

Satoru Gojo who shows you his favorite movies and shows, even if you’re secretly not interested in it. You still love him enough to pretend.

Satoru Gojo who gives you a kiss on the lips and a promise to return before going to Shibuya to deal with business.

Satoru Gojo who doesn’t text you back as you wait at the front door almost everyday, waiting.

Satoru Gojo who doesn’t return home, only to get a call from Shoko that leaves you in tears.

Satoru Gojo whose promise remains broken.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #fem!reader #jjk hcs #fluff to angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #lobotomy kaisen #suffering #jjk x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk satoru #༆Imperial Writes

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days

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Defend Myself - Part II

Part 2 of Defend Myself

Summary: You agree to teach a self-defence class at the police station. There, you meet Tim Bradford again, as well as some unexpected guests.

Warnings: Tim gets nervous and awkward, fluff!! lots of mentions of winning fights

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

A/N: Not proofread yet! I have to go to work so I'll do it tonight. :)

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Alone in your studio classroom, you tap your toes against the floor as hold music plays from your phone. It’s been two days since you met Tim Bradford and learned about the opportunity to teach a free self-defence class at the station. As you wait to talk to the community liaison, you can’t help but think about Officer Bradford again.

“Hello,” someone greets. “Sorry about that wait.”

“No problem,” you reply. “I was calling to find out about teaching a self-defence class for the public. The officer I just spoke to told me you were the person to ask.”

“Of course. I can definitely help you with that. We’ve got several openings for community courses in the coming weeks. Are you a certified group instructor?”

“I am.”

“Perfect. That will help you get in here faster. This means your next step is just to choose a date and time and complete some paperwork. After that, we’ll spread the word in the community, find volunteers to assist you, and get everything in order before the course itself takes place.”

“Great, thank you so much. Is there any chance I could get started on the next step today?”

“Yes, we can do that. Most instructors come into the station to view the community area and complete the necessary forms, but we can send those papers over electronically as well.”

“I’d be happy to come by the station.”

“Excellent. I’m available all day today and tomorrow afternoon if you’d like?”

“Today works.”

You decide on a time with him before you end the call. After your last class of the day, you lock up and head for the Mid-Wilshire police station. Though Officer Bradford said he’d be willing to volunteer for your class, you doubt you’ll ever see him again. LA is a relatively big place, and the chances of seeing the same cop more than once can’t be very high.

At the front desk, you provide your name and the details of your appointment. You’re quickly led through a door and into a large room where police officers are milling about.

“Nice to meet you,” the community liaison greets you as he welcomes you into his office. “I’ve got your paperwork here. Just a few simple liability forms and a background check.”

“Thank you for meeting with me so quickly,” you say as you take a seat.

You begin filling out the forms as you tell him what you plan to teach. He seems impressed by your willingness to host a free session and explains that fewer and fewer people are reaching out to him, despite the compensation they offer.

“That’s the last of them,” he tells you as he accepts your final paper. “I want to get started on these right away, so I’m going to pass you off to another officer to give you the tour.”

“I appreciate that.”

You follow him to the door and see several officers talking near a glass wall.

“You mentioned Officer Bradford in your call, didn’t you?” the liaison asks.

“I did.”

“Great.”

He waves someone over, and you smile when you see Officer Bradford again. He’s not alone, but he smiles at you before he begins introductions.

“This is my watch commander, Sergeant Grey,” he tells you. “Grey, this is the woman who did my job for me at the hockey game earlier this week.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sergeant Grey says as he shakes your hand.

“Good things I hope,” you reply.

“Of course,” Tim interjects quickly.

He seems nervous, but you brush it off as him trying to do his job and carry a conversation. In reality, Tim Bradford is awestruck by you, your abilities, and how kind and compassionate you are despite how easily you could win a fight against anyone in this station.

“Any chance you’d still be willing to help me with the class?” you ask Tim. “I’d hate to mess up and never be invited back.”

“You’d have to fire your service weapon in the station for us to not invite you back,” Wade says. “Which has happened, but we’re desperate.”

“Then I’m glad I can help. And the more people who can defend themselves, the better.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “And, yeah, I’d be happy too. I can show you where you’ll be teaching.”

“Great!”

There’s a commotion near the door, and Tim and Sergeant Grey stand straighter as they watch. A security guard steps in with an officer, and then two cops follow on either side. Tim has positioned himself directly beside you, whether to keep you back from whatever is happening or just to get a better view you aren’t sure. When another man walks in, flanked by more security guards, you gasp and hit Tim’s arm with the back of your hand.

“Ow,” he mumbles quietly as he jerks back slightly.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Do you know who that is?!”

“I take it you do.”

“Sergeant Grey,” an officer calls. “We’re early, I’m sorry about that.”

“No problem. We can meet in the roll call room,” Sergeant Grey replies.

Three large men stand feet away from you, and you link your fingers together as you try to hold your excitement inside. You smile at the man nearest you before you turn back to Tim.

“Bradford, can you sit in?” Grey asks. “Or do you need to finish here first?”

“Oh, please go, I can wait,” you answer for him. “They’re way more important than me.”

“I don’t know about that,” someone says beside you.

You turn to see which man spoke and laugh before you argue, “You have a game to win, Mr. Konecny, you get priority here.”

“Are you a fan?” Travis Konecny asks.

“Yes!” you answer loudly. “Sorry, I’m excited. Yes, I’m a huge Flyers fan.”

“Do you have tickets?” Sam Ersson asks from beside him.

“I do. Nosebleeds, but tickets are tickets.”

Travis clicks his tongue and looks to one of the security guards to say, “Get her a seat on the ice. And anyone else in here who wants one. Their job is much more important than ours.”

You thank him and shake his hand before he passes. As Tim leads Travis Konecny, Sam Ersson, and Jamie Drysdale into the roll call room, you wait nearby. You just met the Philadelphia Flyers! As if seeing Tim again wasn’t exciting enough, you just had a once-in-a-lifetime encounter with some of the best hockey players in the country. Maybe the day can’t get any better.

“Hey,” Tim calls as he returns. “Are you ready?”

“Sure. Thank you again, for everything,” you reply.

He nods as you stand, and then leads you through the station.

“I…” Tim begins.

“Yeah?” you encourage.

“Would you maybe want to go to the game together? They gave me a ticket too.”

“I’d love to! Are they nice? Wait, don’t tell me if they’re not.”

“They’re very nice, and they seemed very happy about meeting a fan.”

“Sorry again for hitting you.”

“It’s fine,” Tim assures with a smile. “It hurt, but that just makes me even more impressed by you.”

“Impressed?”

Tim opens a door for you and shakes his head when your eyes meet his. “Like you can’t tell.”

On the day of your self-defence class at the police station, you wake up early to prepare everything. Most of your equipment is already packed, but you want everything to go well. Once you finish this, you’ll be even closer to your date with Tim. Self-defence, an attractive man, and hockey all in one week is like a romcom made just for you.

Tim is waiting outside the door when you arrive to set up. He smiles and opens the door before he takes a bag from you. As he helps you arrange your minimal gear and go through your sets and cues in a practice run, he makes easy conversation with you. Getting to know each other seems easy, even if this is only small talk and surface questions. He’s someone worth the time and effort of learning.

When the last person leaves your class (after telling you several times about how much she enjoyed it and would like to come to another one), you sigh and shake your arms out. You had been nervous that no one would show up or that they wouldn’t like it, but you were wrong. The room was full, and everyone participated and seemed to enjoy themselves.

“That was fun,” you tell Tim. “I want to do it again.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Grey will try to make you a permanent fixture,” Tim teases.

“I might like that. Although, I’m more excited for our date.”

“Date?” Tim asks, standing up quickly. “I mean, I wanted it to be a date, but didn’t know if you were-“

You smile as you interrupt him to say, “Yeah, it’s a date, Tim.”

“Good,” Tim says softly. His smile grows as he repeats, “Good.”

The night of the Flyers game, Tim picks you up at your studio. He’s the first gentleman you’ve been on a date with in a while. Each moment with him increases your excitement for a hockey game date.

“Wait,” you tell him when he reaches for his door handle. “You’re cheering for the Flyers, right?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers slowly. “Why?”

“Because I was going to sit with someone else if you said no. Please continue.”

Tim smiles a look that knocks the breath out of you like a well-timed punch. He takes your hand and keeps it in his as he leads you to the perfect seats you were gifted. You gasp as you look out on the ice, and Tim watches you rather than the skaters warming up. One of the guys shoulder-checks his teammate before they point at each other, and you and Tim laugh with them.

“I’m pretty sure you could beat up both of them,” Tim says in your ear.

“Do you just like me for my fighting skills?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Not just for that!”

You laugh and bump your shoulder against Tim’s. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders, and you happily lean toward him.

“This is way better than the last hockey game I went to,” you murmur.

“That’s not a compliment,” Tim argues.

Before you can explain what you mean, the Flyers skate to the panel before you and bang on the divider. You smile and Travis, Sam, and Jamie hold up a jersey with ‘LA’s Finest’ on the back. After they skate away, a woman in a Flyers shirt approaches you and hands you a bag. Inside are two of those jerseys, and you quickly pull yours over your head.

“LA’s finest,” Tim reads. “I have to agree.”

“Back at you.”

Tim stays at your side for the entire game. You cheer together, yell together, and enjoy the night in each other’s company. You want Tim Bradford at your side for a very long time, even if he does make endless comments about who you could challenge to a fight.

“We should invite them to the wedding,” you say when the game ends.

“An entire hockey team?” Tim questions. You notice he doesn’t argue against the idea of marriage, just the number of people you’re already adding to the guest list.

“Yeah. Plus, the whole LAPD, right?”

Tim pulls you under his arm and leads you back to his truck. You can invite as many people as you want, he thinks, as long as he’s there with you.

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