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probablyreadinsmut · 10 days ago

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The Mrs Clause.

Jackson Joel Miller X Afab!Reader

Named after the 2002 Tim Allen Christmas movie - The Santa Clause 2.

Summary: You and Joel are Patrol partners who have been dancing around your feelings for each other for the longest time. Tommy has had enough of it and decides to intervene, setting Joel and you up as Santa and Mrs Claus.

Warnings/Tags: No smut in this part, but there will be in part two. One use of the word 'cock'. Just a lot of awkwardness from both parties (they're both dumb for each other okay?). Tooth rotting fluff in parts. Tommy being a meddling matchmaking menace, Maria enabling him like the good wife she is. Language (Swearing). Mention of pet loss. Nicknames. Tension. Implied legal age gap (nothing more 25-35 years ish, Joel would be about 57 in this). Reader has breasts and a vagina. Reader wears a skirt and heels but it's part of your costume. No mention of height, weight, skin colour or specific age. Images used in the banner above are just for aesthetic purposes, you are the main character in this fic. If I missed anything let me know!

Divider credit: @strangergraphics thank you for these adorable Christmas dividers! Merry Christmas to you! ❤️🎄

Banner made by me on canva which is why it's a little janky but we move (pls don't zoom in on it lmao)

Joel

It's Christmas time in Jackson! The town Square was beautifully decorated with twinkling fairy lights and leafy garlands with holly and pinecones weaved into them, wrapped around the street lamps. The freshly cut pine tree stood proudly in the centre of it all with more lights carefully spiralling around it and a bright star on top.

While Joel is making his way to his therapy appointment that day, he notices a crowd gathering around the town notice board, everyone is abuzz with excitement about something and his curiosity piques.

Making his way to the back of the small crowd that's formed in a horseshoe around it, he sees Tommy and Maria, with little TJ on her hip, pinning something to the board.

It's when Tommy finishes up and turns around that Joel locks eyes with him. The slow shit eating grin that spreads across his face sends alarm bells ringing in Joel's head.

As Tommy steps out the way for the residents at the front to take a look at the new announcements, the snickers and stares start. People turning and whispering, looking directly at him. Joel's cheeks heat up and his brow furrows into a deep scowl as he muscles his way through the crowd heading straight for his dumbass baby brother.

"What did you do?*The tone is accusatory right off the bat, Joel ain't messing around.

"Well take a look big brother, we're just tryin' to spread a lil holiday cheer around here and I was jus' thinkin', what grizzly old man could I get to be our Santa this year? And then it hit me"

"You didn't."

Joel could punch that grin right off his brother's face right now, as he steps aside and reveals the post pinned to the board. "Oh. I most certainly did."

There in a swirly red and green font, it reads:

🎄 Come and meet Santa Claus! Jacksons 3rd annual Christmas grotto: 12pm - 5pm December 21st. Fun for all ages! 🎄

And then there's a list underneath, containing the names of residents he and Maria have roped into helping.

Santa's Elves. Ellies name amongst them. Tommy must have a deathwish.

The names of the stabled horses next to 'Reindeer'

And then he sees it. His name.

Joel Miller as Santa Claus!

It had to be some kind of joke. Tommy's sick way of getting back at Joel for making him dress up as the easter bunny for Sarah all those years ago.

He rears back in horror, looking at Tommy like he'd just kicked a damn puppy in front of him. "Absolutely fucking not, Tommy! You must be insane to think I'm gonna do this!"

"Oh c'mon it'll be fun! TJ would love to see his Uncle Joel as Santa, wouldn't you, little guy?" Tommy smirks, keeping direct eye contact with Joel as he tickles the baby under his chin.

Maria then chimes in, shifting the giggling little boy in her arms. "Joel I know it's not your idea of fun-"

"Not my idea of fun!? That's a damn understatement if I've ever heard one!"

She holds her free hand up in a placating gesture. "Alright I hear you, perhaps Tommy should have asked first" She glances at Tommy, who's got a faux innocent 'who me?' look on his face now "But, the kids love it and usually we'd ask Richard to do it but he broke his leg a few weeks back out on patrol, so he can't do it this year. We'll make it worth your while, won't we Tommy?" She elbow nudges him in his ribs.

"Oh yeah! I've got a 40 year aged bottle of whiskey with your name on it, unopened. Sound interestin'?"

Tempting. Very tempting. But no, there was no chance he was gonna do all this just for a bottle of whiskey, no matter how good it sounded. "You're gonna have to do better than that, I'm talkin' new gun or knife kinda interestin"

"I knew you'd say that, big brother, which is why..."

Tommy jabs his pointer finger further down the announcement board, showing Joel exactly what else he has to offer to sweeten the deal further.

And there in the same green and red swirly writing. Mrs Claus with your name beside it.

A beat passes and Joel's permanent frown slowly forms into something of a half grin.

The two of you had been patrol partners for months and anyone with eyes could see how hard you were crushing on each other, both of you too chickenshit to make the first move, so here's Tommy and Maria, giving Joel the best early Christmas present he could ask for.

"I'm in."

You

Two days. You had been working tirelessly for two days on your Mrs.Claus costume, trading with the towns sewing circle for any scraps of red velvet you could get your hands on, fashioning the white fluffy edging out of an old blanket. It was far from perfect, it was rushed but there was no way you were going to pass up on this opportunity.

"Alright I'm coming out, no peeking, promise you won't look until I say so?" You call out to Maria, just finishing getting your outfit on in their living room as she waits for you in the kitchen, feeding TJ his lunch at the dining table.

"Cross my heart! Now c'mon show me what you've got, Mrs.Claus!" Maria chuckles and covers her eyes with her hand, giving you the all clear before you step into the kitchen.

It's a two piece outfit, the long sleeve top flaring out at your waist with a slight v-nexk, nothing too risque, the grotto is considered a family event after all. Then there's the skirt, just above knee length, hugging your hips and thighs in all the right places. Paired with a pair of red short strappy heels that you'd managed to borrow from one of the more fashionable Jackson residents, in exchange for some personal supplies for her. For a rush job, you were damn proud of yourself.

"Okay... You can look now!" You exclaim, straightening out an invisible crease on your top.

Maria drops her hand to look, her jaw follows quickly after. "Oh my god! Well hellooo Mrs. Claus!" She wolf whistles playfully. "Santa isn't gonna know what's hit him."

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck at that particular thought. How Joel would react when he sees you. "Y-yeah? It's not too much is it? I mean I'm not trying to go for sexy, but I'm not not trying if you know what I mean?"

"No it's perfect! Look at Mrs. Claus, TJ doesn't she look beautiful?" Maria attempts to guide the youngest Millers gaze to you but he's too busy chomping down the banana pancakes she'd whipped up for him.

"Ah well... Speaking from experience, the older Miller men are much more attentive. And appreciative." Maria remarks coyly, lips curving into a sly smirk.

The two of you devolve into fits of giggles, not even hearing Tommy arriving home until he enters the kitchen "Ho-ho-holy shit!" Maria says his name in a scolding tone for cursing in front of the baby, he flashes her a guilty grin before continuing "Look at you darlin'! Joel, come take a look at Mrs. Claus!"

Joel. Joel's here with him.

Before you even have a chance to protest, Joel's stepping into the kitchen behind Tommy and right there and then is when you're pretty sure your heart stops.

Jaw slightly slack, brown eyes now near-black as his eyes drag up your body, lingering for a moment too long on your hips and breasts before landing in your face, noting the nervous gnaw of your lip. He clears his throat, forcing himself to act casual, ignoring the twitch of his cock in his jeans. "Y-yeah you... Wow. I mean... Wow.."

Flustered. Joel Miller is flustered. The usually stoic and self controlled aging scavenger is now a bumbling mess, even if he's trying his hardest not to show it.

A knowing look passes between Tommy and Maria, like the irritating old married couple they are, sharing small grins that mirror one another.

"Thanks... I um.. Can't wait to see your costume too!"

Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder with a loud bark of laughter. "Oh I sure am lookin' forward to that too! I think we all are, managed to find a mall Santa outfit a few years back, got the beard and everythin'. Usually it's a little big on Richard but I think Joel here won't have any trouble fillin' it out" He teases, prodding at Joel's soft tummy, earning him a brotherly punch to the arm.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" Now it's Joel's turn to be scolded by Maria, giving her the very same guilty smile as Tommy had done previously. The Miller genetics are truly a marvel.

It's the morning of the Christmas Grotto and your nerves are running at an all time high. Putting together the last of your costume, opting for a pair of black tights under your skirt instead of going bare legged what with the fresh snow that had settled in recent days.

Staring at yourself in the bedroom mirror, you had to admit to yourself that you looked hot and with the appraising look you'd received from Joel yesterday fresh in your mind, a big part of you was actually looking forward to today, even if you'd originally been less than thrilled at being put down for the role without being asked. The moment Maria had told you Joel was going to be santa, it had sealed the deal for you. You'd be the best damn Mrs. Claus this town has ever seen.

A little while later, it's go time. You're walking into the mess hall, the tables have been pushed aside to make room for the crowd that will be shuffling in and out. There are townsfolk dotted around dressed as elves and the horses are hitched just outside in a make shift petting zoo with makeshift Reindeer antlers on their heads. That was a cute touch. You're sure they're going to love being fussed over and fed carrots all day long.

At the far end, is the 'Grotto' which is actually just a red back drop hung up on the wall, a chair that's been decorated to look like Santa's throne, a bowl full of homemade candy canes beside it and a Christmas tree with gifts surrounding it. It's nothing special, but at the same time it's perfect No sign of Joel though, yet.

"Well don't you look pretty!" A semi sarcastic voice sounds from your left, Ellie, dressed as an elf, chewing on a candy cane.

You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle the laugh. She looks ridiculous and you can tell she's not happy about being asked to do this.

"Oh my god. Don't tell me Tommy roped you into this too?!"

"Sure did." She grumbles. "But he said Dina would be doing it to so..."

Looks like you're not the only one going along with it because your crush is involved. You give her a knowing smile, glancing around the mess hall. "Is um... Is Joel coming any time soon? People will be lining up in the next twenty minutes or so."

She grins as she takes another bite of candy cane "Oh yeah he's coming alright. Why Tommy thought he was a good fit for jolly old St. Nick, I'll never know! Least he's got the old part down." She trails off as she gets distracted by something over your shoulder, you turn to see Dina walking in, wearing an equally ridiculous elf costume. "Uhhhh gotta run! Good luck today!" Ellie smirks as she darts by you heading straight for her. Subtle.

Soon enough, the line starts to form and Joel is still nowhere to be seen, you're standing beside the throne, shifting from foot to foot, feeling a little anxious that he might not show up now.

And then you hear it.

"Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!" it's not exactly enthusiastic and Santa has a texan twang but there he is walking in, greeting the townsfolk and children. With the classic costume on, a fake white curly beard with his pink plush lips poking out, the hat tilted jauntily atop his head and a sack over his shoulder.

Why the hell are you attracted to this?

Do you have to add 'Santa kink' to the ever extensive list of kinks you have? Oh god, let's not go there right now.

The faces of the kids in line light up though and seeing the way Joel smiles back under the beard, warms your heart. He's a softie deep down.

"There you are, cutting it fine aren't you Santa?" you murmur to him when he sits down, setting the sack next to him. The way he immediately manspreads and looks good doing it even dressed like this, should be criminal.

Then he gives you an assessing stare, just like yesterday, unable to help himself from subtly checking you out. Subtle to anyone else who might be looking, but to you? You felt like time slowed down right then and there, noting the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. The next five hours were either going to be pure torture or sheer agony. You truly couldn't decide which one.

"Sorry Mrs. Clause. Was doin'a little last minute gift wrappin'" You're about to open your mouth to tell him that maybe he should have a better sense of timekeeping but it's then that Ellie pipes up, cupping her hands either side of her mouth to make her voice louder. "Alright folks, who's ready to meet Santa?"

The next 5 hours were a blur, it was a constant stream of people coming to meet Santa but it was probably the most fun you've had in a long time. Tommy and Maria had set up a few games in the mess hall to make it a real event for the kids of Jackson and he'd procured some disposable cameras to take mementos of the day.

You could have killed that man when he did this though:

"Hey Mr & Mrs Claus! Lemme get a picture of the two of you!"

You'd sighed but you'd take any opportunity to be closer to Joel honestly. You moved closer to the throne, posing beside it with a beaming smile. Apparently that wasn't good enough for Tommy.

"Nooooo get closer c'mon, you're supposed to be a married couple"

"Yeah and also non existent" Joel mutters under his breath so none of the kids hear him, elliciting a giggle from you.

"Hm, what was that Santa?"

"Nothin'!"

You perch on the arm of the throne instead to appease him. "This any better?"

"Nooooo no no! Get closer!"

"How am I s'posed to get any-- oh!"

You squeek as Joel pulls you into his lap, sitting you side ways on one of his thighs.

"This okay Darlin'?" He whispers in a drawl. It's both sweet that he's checking that it's not pushing your boundaries too far but also sexy as hell. You reply with a slow nod

It's your turn to be flustered now, feeling your body temperature rising a little, along with your racing heart. You're having an internal meltdown about being in his lap.

"Earth to Mrs. Claus! Hellooooo!" It's Tommy's voice that snaps you out of it, blinking rapidly as you look up at the camera.

"S-sorry! Yes okay, I'm ready." You cross your legs and lean back into Joel just a tad, feeling his hand slipping around your waist to hold you steady, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the velvet there. You wonder if he even knows he's doing it."Take the damn picture Tommy!"

"Alright hold your horses!" Every second in Joel's lap feels like a year. So close, close enough that his intoxicating scent floods your senses, peppermint from the candy canes, coffee and... Sawdust? You think? Would make sense considering his woodworking, you suppose. It's too much, but at the same time it's not enough.

"Alright Mr & Mrs. 3.. 2.. 1.. Say jingle bells!"

You both repeat it, smiling ear to ear as the flash momentarily blinds you.

Before you know it, it's nearly time to call it a day. You were thankful for the small heaters that had been placed nearby, it had started snowing heavily outside now and with the way the mess hall was pretty open, made it chilly. It was bearable though.

Joel had been so sweet with the kids today, it was a side of him you hadn't seen before. A stark contrast to the man you went on patrols with. You knew he was good with kids. Older kids though, like Ellie, but seeing him with the younger kids? Christ. Your ovaries damn near exploded.

Right now he has the last kid on his lap, a little girl with big brown eyes and tight curls. She's possibly the sweetest little thing you've ever seen.

"Alright sweetpea what's your name?"

"Sarah." She answers shyly.

It's then that you notice the way his shoulders tense slightly and the way his eyes get a little glossy. What's that about?

"S-Sarah? Well... Ain't that a pretty name for an equally pretty girl." The momentary hiccup seems to have passed and he's back to being sweet again. "How old are you darlin'?" She screws up her little face as she looks at her fingers trying to figure out how many to hold up before she holds up four of them, looking at who you assume is her mother for confirmation, she just chuckles and nods.

"Four? Well ain't that nice. Now tell me sweetpea, what do you want for Christmas?" So gentle, he's so gentle with the little kids, you really didn't know that there was this side of him hiding in there.

"A dinosaur!" She's come out of her shell a little now, excitedly mimicking a dinosaurs roar, to which Joel roars back and chuckles, this rich deep sound. So fucking cute.

"A dinosaur? Well little missy I'm not sure 'bout gettin' you a real one, I'm sure your momma wouldn't wanna clean up after one buuuuuut--" he reaches down into the nearly empty sack of presents and pulls out a small plushie T-Rex. "Here. Darlin' Merry Christmas."

She squeels with happiness and throws her little arms around his neck, catching him off guard for a moment. You can see the surprise in his wide eyes, but a genuine warm smile graces his lips. "Thank you Santa!" She pulls back, gently taking the plushie from him, holding it up proudly for her mom to see.

"Well you're welcome, sweetpea. G'on now, go show your momma and have a Merry Christmas... Sarah." The way he says her name, almost wistful, he watches her clamber off his lap, running to her mom to show her the gift she got, there's this longing look that you don't recognise in him.

"Joel?" You ask, gently placing your hand on his shoulder.

His head snaps in your direction, immediately changing his demeanor to a happier one, whether it's forced or not, you don't know. "God, sorry Darlin'! I was miles away."

"You okay?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, course I am! Just... Been a long day is all. You okay? It's getting cold in here."

You smile at the way he's concerned about you, shaking your head softly. "I'm fine, not really feeling it"

"Now why don't I believe that?" He does a little smirk under the beard as his eyes rake over you quickly, it making your heart do a little flip. "Here." Before you can protest, he's taking off his red jacket, handing it to you as he's left in a fitting white tshirt underneath, suspenders holding up the pants. The little roundness of his tummy is something else. You were never a fan of overly muscular guys, you'd seen the magazines from before. Jacked up men with washboard abs just wasn't your thing. This though? The dad bod he was rocking was absolutely your thing.

"T-thank you." the waiver in your voice does nothing to hide how much he's effected you. It's not fair. You put the jacket on around your shoulders and it feels as though you've been enveloped by his scent. It's dizzying and addictive.

By 6pm, all the helpers had the mess hall cleared and back to how it was before, the tables back in place and the shutters down to stave off the snow storm that was picking up outside.

You'd stayed behind to help Maria dismantle the 'Grotto' while TJ slept in his stroller, Joel was still here, Santa hat and beard now gone, much to your slight disappointment. He was busy talking to Tommy, they seemed to be sharing a moment. Tommy's hand is on his shoulder, gently squeezing it with a sympathetic look on his face, you can't make out what they're saying but whatever it is seems deep.

Maria notices you looking, smiling to herself before she speaks. "So... You gonna finally make a move or what?"

With wide eyes you turn your attention to her. "Maybe keep your voice down?"

She chuckles lightly "Oh honey they can't hear us from all the way over there. C'mon... What's stopping you? He likes you. You like him. Just go for it."

"Okay but what if things don't work out? Jackson isn't that big y'know? Imagine bumping into your ex every day. Awkward."

"Don't have to imagine. Before Tommy got here I dated one of the guys on patrol and sure it was awkward at first but we're all adults, I moved on and married Tommy and he's moved on too. It's not a big deal. You know what I think though?"

"No but I'm sure you're about to tell me" You huff in amusement through your nose, putting away the last of the props into a box.

"Damn right I am. I think you're afraid and making excuses. Just like he is. You're focusing on the negatives like 'what if it ends badly' instead of 'what if it never ends?' and that is what you should be thinking about. Seriously. You'll regret it if you don't at least try."

"See you back at the house Joel!" Ellie calls out to him as she leaves with Dina. Tommy and Maria had left a short while ago when TJ started getting fussy. So now, under the twinkling lights above you, you're left alone together with Maria's words swimming around in your head.

'What if it never ends?' she'd said it so simply, like you'd get your fairytale ending. Of course she hadn't meant it like that. Not in this world, not in this life. But, if it meant you could have just a fraction of a fairytale ending? Maybe she was right about making the leap.

So as you wring your hands nervously, your feet are moving you towards him of their own accord. He's crouched down rifling through the present sack, just in the exit doorway. You stop just behind him.

"Joel? You got a minute before you leave?"

"Oh! Yeah actually, I um..." He pulls something out of the sack, putting it behind his back as he rises to his feet, knees creaking as he does so. "I wanted to talk to you to... I uh..." His brow is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He's nervous too. "I... Got you somethin... It's not much but..."

And then he pulls out a small gift wrapped box from behind his back, tied up with a red bow and everything. Your eyes soften when you take it from him, fingertips brushing against his accidentally.

"Joel... You didn't have to get me anything... I... I didn't get you anything. I feel bad now!"

"Pfft. Don't be silly darlin'. I did this cause I wanted to, not because I felt like I had to. C'mon open it." He gives you that lopsided grin that makes him even more handsome somehow, rocking back on his heels absentmindedly.

You oblige, carefully unwrapping the bow, tearing away the paper, all the while you feel his eyes on you watching and waiting. When you lift the lid off the box, you let out a small surprised chuckle. Gently lifting the gift out to admire it.

A small carved and painted chocolate labrador dog. Just like your childhood pet. You remembered telling him about her on one of your patrols, Lana was her name. You'd lost her in the initial days of the outbreak and thought about her often. It had been months since you'd told him about her and he'd remembered. Even going as far as carving her name onto the base. You feel your eyes misting over as you take it in, it's possibly the best gift you've ever received.

"Joel I-- it's... It's beautiful. You... You made this for me?"

His shoulders relax a little as he sees the way your expression shifts, he was worried he'd upset you. It was a risk because all he wanted was to make you happy.

"Yeah I did... That's um... That's actually why I was almost late today. Was putting the finishing touches to it, wanted it to be perfect. Y'know... Like you are."

"L-like I am?" You gaze lifts from the carving in your hand to meet his own. Staring back at you with those soft brown eyes that you just want to get lost in.

As he takes a small step forward, encroaching into your personal space, it feels like the room just became too small. More intimate than it was before. Nothing has changed and everything has changed. "Yes. Like you darlin'. You... You're..." He reaches up, softly brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, making your breath catch in your throat. "You're perfection"

That's when you see it, above the two of you in the doorway. Mistletoe. You'd wondered how you'd missed that. It was like it had just appeared out of thin air, but more than likely it was a part of Tommy's meddling because it definitely wasn't there before.

He follows your gaze upwards, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Well would ya look at that."

You can't help the small chuckle of disbelief that leaves you. "Yeah would you look at that. You planning on doing anything about it, Miller?"

Now his gaze his dropped back to you, drawing your face in closer to his. His voice dropping to a low whisper. "Don't have to tell me twice, darlin'"

The moment your lips touch his, you feel like you're floating on air. It's reverent and slow, tilting his head with yours as he savours the taste of your lips. His big hand engulfing your cheek, thumb stroking over it with a tenderness that you hadn't initially expected from him.

You blindly set the carving down on the ledge beside you so you can wrap your arms around his neck as his free hand slides downwards to your lower back, holding you against him as the kiss deepens and evolves into something more desperate.

It's all consuming. Everything you could have hoped for. He's everything you hoped for.

There under the mistletoe and twinkling lights. Santa and Mrs Claus. Sharing their first kiss.

Part two coming soon!

Tagging my moots, happy holidays my lovelies:

@drewharrisonwriter @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @bitchwitch1981 @kirsteng42 @morallyinept @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @almostempty

Special mention to @lovely-vamp-princess added a part about Joel's tummy in there just for you ;D

If you'd rather not be tagged lmk and a big thank you if you do read 💜

#jackson joel #jackson joel miller #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #Joel Miller Santa #christmas smut #fluff #christmas fic #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

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Party Favors, Bribes, and Sharks

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!(goth!)fem!reader

Summary: When Tim finally invites you to meet his friends, it takes more than party favors and promises to convince you to go.

Warnings: fluff, brief depiction of anxiety/nervousness, teasing

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“What are you wearing?” Tim asks, frozen in the open doorway.

“A shark,” you answer softly. “It’s a hammerhead.”

Tim presses his tongue against his cheek and nods. He’s seen you in nearly every outfit imaginable over the last year, except for bright colors… or, as it seems, sharks.

“I didn’t know your fascination had extended to clothing,” he mumbles as he finally closes the door.

“It’s a hooded blanket,” you explain. “And it was on sale.”

Tim nods again, unable to take you seriously with the plush hammerhead pulled over your hair or the patterned sleeves your arms are in. He drops his bag and sighs as he sits beside you. It’s been nearly a week since you saw him. As you offer him one side of your shark blanket, he smiles.

“We solved the case,” he says, laying your blanket over one of his legs.

“I knew you would,” you murmur, looking at his neck rather than his face.

“And we decided to have a little get-together to celebrate.”

You hum, straightening the edge of the blanket along Tim’s thigh.

“You should come,” he adds, placing his hand atop yours.

Frozen, you pinch your brows and consider what he said. You’ve been dating for about a year but haven’t met any of his friends or coworkers yet. For good reason, you think.

“Funny,” you whisper, looking away from Tim.

“I’m serious,” Tim assures. “I’m inviting you to the… Lucy’s calling it a party. You can meet everyone.”

You look at the television screen, the rainy night ambiance video threatening to weaken your resolve. “Tim,” you begin. “I’d rather eat my own eyes."

Tim tips his head back and laughs, not at you or your shyness, but at your graphic response. You’re all things darkness, but Tim knows the softness and shyness lying underneath.

“C’mon, you have to come with me.”

“No, I don’t.”

Tim sighs before he turns toward you and places his hands on your sides. “If you come with me, I’ll get you fresh strawberries from that farmer’s market in Santa Monica you love so much.”

Your eyes widen at the idea. Those strawberries are the best things you’ve ever had. Unconsciously, your hand raises to your neck, and you toy with the strawberry charm tucked beneath your other jewelry.

“We can go this weekend and buy as many as you want,” Tim continues. “Maybe even eat some on the beach.”

“I… Tim, I can’t just go,” you argue softly.

“Yes, you can. Listen, I promise that everything will be completely fine. This isn’t a huge thing, it’s casual, you can be yourself.”

You scoff and look down at Tim’s arms.

“I’m serious,” he says firmly. “They’re going to love you. So, if you’re just nervous about them not liking you, that’s not enough of a reason to say no.”

You purse your lips to think. It’s not fair that Tim knows you so well or is willing to use your love of strawberries against you.

“Fine,” you whisper. “But if it doesn’t go well, I stand by my eye-eating comment.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

The day of Mid-Wilshire’s celebratory party, you’re a mess. From the moment you wake up, you’re stressing about every little thing and growing more nervous. You peruse your closet, then turn to Pinterest for outfit ideas, but you keep questioning what Tim meant when he said casual. His casual and your casual are very different, and you don’t want to wear the wrong thing and make the night even more nerve-wracking or awkward than you’re sure it will already be.

“Breathe,” you remind yourself.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and exit your room. After a break in which you have a snack, watch a short shark documentary, and wave to your neighbor’s cat out the window, you return to your closet. This time, the outfit seems to jump out at you.

As you lay a pair of baggy jeans on your bed, the rest of the look falls together effortlessly. You choose a black sweater with a skeleton made of stars, black Converse with colorful jewels on the laces, and your daily rings and necklaces. The strawberry charm Tim got you on one of your first dates gets lost among the dark, gothic jewelry, but you know it’s there.

With an outfit picked, your heart rate slows, and your nervousness eases slightly. There’s plenty you could be concerned about, but your question will be answered soon enough.

“Worst case scenario,” you murmur as you straighten your outfit in the mirror. “They hate me, and Tim leaves me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Tim says, suddenly behind you. You turn quickly, and he pulls you into a hug. “You’re perfect, and everything is going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that,” you complain against his arm.

“I brought you something to help convince you.” Tim steps back and pulls his backpack off the floor. “I’ve been holding onto this for a special occasion, and this seems like a good time.”

You watch as Tim pulls a stuffed animal out of his bag. You want to make a joke, but then you see what it is. The shark plushy is colored like a strawberry; it combines your two favorite things in the world. Things that Tim knows make you melt. Your shyness and worry are forgotten as you hug the strawberry shark to your chest.

“This is like Halloween!” you cheer.

“You mean Christmas?” Tim counters.

“I mean my favorite day of the year.”

Tim nods, kisses your forehead, then steps around you to get ready. As you wait with your shark, you allow yourself to be distracted. When Tim returns a few minutes later, you reluctantly set the stuffed animal on your bed and pat its back.

“Thank you,” you tell Tim. “I love him.”

“Is that why he’s in my spot?” Tim inquires with a knowing smile.

You smile and look down, clasping your hands together behind your back. Until you get to the party, you won’t know what to expect. You’ve heard Tim talk about everyone in attendance, but that’s different than meeting them, seeing them face-to-face, and allowing them to judge you. These people mean something to Tim; they’re his family, and if they don’t like you, there might be a risk of losing him.

“Are you ready to go?” Tim asks, offering his hand.

“Is it down to that or eating my eyes?” you question.

“Yes, and I happen to like your eyes.”

You grumble under your breath and take Tim’s hand. He leads you to his truck and whispers that everything will be fine. You try to believe him.

Halfway through the drive, your leg bounces so hard that the entire seat shakes. Tim turns, then places his hand on your knee, brushing his thumb over your leg. He has seen you nervous, but never like this.

“You’re fine,” he promises.

“What if they-“

“They’re going to love you.”

“But I don’t want to-“

“We’re here.”

You look up from Tim’s hand and sink in your seat. He squeezes your knee gently, opens his door, and rounds the truck to help you get out.

“Tim,” you whisper.

“I got you,” he promises, smiling despite your obvious concern. “Trust me, and then we’ll go get strawberries.”

“I like my rocks better than you,” you complain quietly, sliding out of the truck.

“Remind me who found your favourite rock.”

You huff, unwilling to acknowledge that the rock that looks like it’s covered in raindrops is your favourite or that Tim found it in your backyard. He takes your hand and leads you to the door. When you step behind him, Tim allows you to pull his hand with you, reaching behind his back to comfort you. Although, he knows you won’t need a buffer.

“Tim! You made it!” a woman cheers as the door opens. She gasps and drops her voice to add, “And you finally brought her!”

Tim lifts the hand not trapped in yours toward her, and you assume he motions for her to take it easy on you. Your eyes are on his back muscles, visible through his shirt, rather than anything or anyone around you.

“I was beginning to question if I’d see a night off,” another voice says.

“Tell me about it! Especially when Oscar called.”

Everyone groans, and you look up, still hidden behind Tim but able to see some people in the room. They’re dressed casually, you notice, and one of them is wearing an outfit similar to yours, minus the skeleton design.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” the woman who opened the door answers.

You step to the left and raise your chin, accidentally locking eyes with her. She smiles but doesn’t move toward you or speak. You appreciate it and return her smile.

“Thanks for letting me come,” you say before introducing yourself.

After you say thanks, she moves to your side and pulls you away from Tim. Away from him and the others, she directs you to sit with her.

“I’m Angela, and I’ve been waiting so long to meet you. When Tim slipped and told me he had a girlfriend, I, well, I didn’t believe him at first, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she explains. “He’s been so happy with you! He refused to show me pictures, but you’re even prettier than I expected.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly. “Sorry, I’m not great at, uh, anything interpersonal.”

“Then you’re perfect for Tim.”

You laugh at her friendly teasing and are surprised when you fall into a short but easy conversation with her about how you met Tim.

“Give her some room, Lopez,” Tim calls from the doorway.

“It’s okay,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Timothy,” Angela replies. “It’s okay. It won’t be once she meets Nolan and Lucy, but I’m her new best friend, so you need to watch your back, Bradford.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he nods. He waves for you and Angela to join the others when you’re ready, then retreats around the corner again.

“I’m still nervous,” you admit to Angela.

“Well, now you have me. Just remember these two things: one, Nolan never shuts up, but he doesn’t actually say much.” She pauses as you chuckle, then raises another finger to add, “And we all tease each other, but there’s nothing except respect and care between us. You’re going to fit right in, I promise.”

“As my best friend?”

Angela loops her arm through yours after you stand and replies, “You understand already.”

You sit between Tim and Angela at the table, and less than ten seconds after she joins you, Tim's friends begin asking questions.

“Guys,” Angela interrupts. “Okay, this is Lucy, Nolan, Wade, Nyla, her husband James, and my fantastic husband, Wesley.”

“Why did he get a fantastic husband?” James challenges.

“You heard me.”

“Okay, how did you meet Tim?” Lucy inquires.

“We just ran into each other,” you answer nervously.

“Did he ask you out?” Nolan adds.

You nod, and they continue taking turns to better understand your relationship with Tim. A few minutes into the conversation, your answers are louder and contain more words.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Wade asks in the first lapse of silence.

“Sharks,” you and Tim answer together.

“Tim!” Lucy exclaims, clapping her hands together.

You laugh and realize at that moment that Tim was right. His friends are chill, open, and seem to like you.

“I don’t get why you’re with Tim,” Nyla tells you on the way out, “but I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” you answer. “I’ll see you around.”

“Count on it!” James calls.

Tim helps you into the truck and then reaches into the backseat. He passes you the new strawberry shark, and you clutch it tightly.

“Your friends are great,” you tell him.

“I tried to tell you,” he responds lightly. “And they’re your friends now, too.”

“I like that.”

Tim nods and murmurs, “You didn’t like it before I agreed to get you strawberries and watch Halloween movies.”

“We’re watching Halloween movies, too?!”

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

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fancyfeathers · 4 days ago

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Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

I’m thinking about Daughter!Darling and Mother!Darling spending the holidays with the Batfam and sure it is quite a nice time of year because all of the parties mean they are out of the manor more, but it also means they spend more time with their family. Dick wants to take her out places, the park for snowball fights and sledding and maybe when she is little take her to go see Santa. Jason just wants to relax, maybe wrap his little sister up in a blanket and watch a Christmas movie or read her a book before bed. Tim takes her out shopping to get her to buy presents for everyone with his money and take her out to lunch after or something. Damian didn’t really grow up celebrating the holidays so he wants to join in on his sister’s and stepmother’s traditions like making Christmas candy, which he doesn’t understand why they would want to make it themselves since it is hot and it could burn them and it could be much higher quality when someone else makes it. Stephanie, Cassandra, and even Barbara take her out shopping for a Christmas dress since that was a tradition she had with her mother and Stephanie and Cass are like her sisters now. Even Kate comes by to take her favorite girls out, and they are over at her apartment, Daughter!Darling snuggled between her mother and Kate while watching a movie. When Duke comes along he takes her ice skating since no one else will since they are scared she will fall and break something, but he’s there to protect her.

Then Bruce takes her to holiday parties and galas with him, her all dressed up in the dress Stephanie probably picked out for her, her mother on Bruce’s arm and in a dress that probably costs as much as a house. When she is little she is fawned over by all the elites, telling Bruce and her mother that their little girl looks just like a doll. When she gets older the parties get a little more bearable, because of her boyfriend sneaking her off during the parties, sneaking off outside and giving her his coat and hiding from her father and siblings.

Then there are the gifts, it’s always things they want her to like, doesn’t matter is she does or not, a set of paints, signing her up for ballet classes, taking her to get her ears pierced, a book of French poetry, you get the idea. There are only three people who get her gifts that show they actually know her, her mother, Selina Kyle, and her boyfriend even as crazy as he actually is.

Her mother remembers her own family traditions from before she married Bruce, and one of them are handing down family heirlooms and that tradition becomes very important to her daughter just like it did with her mother. So every year her mom gives her something that has been passed down through her family, an old necklace, earrings, bracelets, books, you get the idea.

Selina Kyle becomes her mother’s best friend and kind of an aunt to her daughter so on Christmas Eve when she comes to see them she discretely hands her a little box with a silver heart locket inside, she remembered overhearing that she always wanted one but didn’t want to ask her mom because her mom would get it in the blink of an eye and she already gives her the world. Just don’t ask where she got it because she may have broken her clear streak to make her happy.

Then her boyfriend, as rich as he is he knows it’s the little things that matter. So instead of some grand gesture for a present, he pulls her aside at a party and gives her a book, a scrapbook he made of photos of them with little paragraphs, letters to her and what he feels. Sometimes something handmade can be worth more than any diamond necklace. He’ll save a ring for when they get engaged along and a court of owls mask is for when they get married.

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brucewaynehater101 · 8 months ago

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I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.

So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.

Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.

So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.

That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.

Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.

I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.

I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.

I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #young justice #young just us #thank you for the ask!!!!

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papurgaatika · 2 days ago

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Keep A Leftover Light Burning

Pairing: joel miller x Ceramicist! reader

MINORS DNI WITH MY WORKS PLEASE !!

A/N: howdy howdy and welcome all now this is a very special fic for @burntheedges for the @pedrostories secret santa event!! I hope you like it and find it as fun as i did. I think this isnt a trope that we see very often, but after a healthy dose of tiktoks (and watching the scene from ghost again) this came into being. As always thank you to my beloveeeeeeed @carlynkurin for beta reading, and peace and love on the planet earth from me, xoxo Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! tags: Ceramicist reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), publicish sex, strangers to lovers, lots of wet clay, joels arms require their own tag Word count: 3.4k Summary: Sarah forces joel to go take a day to himself, pushing him in the direction of your pottery studio. Despite calling yourself professional and priding yourself on your morals, you can’t help but… fantasize about the man in front of you.

Joel needs to take time for himself. He’s always on, always ready to go at the flip of a switch, never taking time to sit and breathe. Everyone knows how hard he works, and despite what he says, Sarah knows that he needs to do something calming. Something that doesn’t involve carving wood or going to the shooting range with Tommy on the off chance that both of them are free for long enough. So being the perfect daughter that she is, she enrolls him in a ceramics workshop that she had gone to once. It was a small studio, tucked away next to the Palace Theatre in downtown Georgetown, soft and quaint in the suburbs, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sarah managed to get a hold of you over the phone and explain the situation, a smile threatening to creep onto your cheeks at the sheer amount of care she had for her father. You tell her not to worry about the price and that you would stay open for an extra hour next weekend just to get him in, a squeal on the other side is all the confirmation you need as you pencil it into your schedule.

Sunday rolls around and Joel… Well, he was being Joel. Stubborn and groaning as Sarah essentially pushes him out the door to make the drive up IH-35, complaining about “I build things for a living,” and “it’ll be a waste of time.” but Sarah is hearing none of it and one look from her has Joel slipping on his boots. In any other circumstance, he would have praised her for holding her ground, but right now he just sighs and gets into his truck realizing just how much of his stubbornness had rubbed off on her.

He ends up at the studio just before 5, the sun starting to dip under the horizon, casting beautiful pinks and oranges around the sky. He’s still bitching and moaning as he makes his way to the building, taking a deep breath as he steps inside. You barely even hear the jingle of the little bell above your door, too busy fighting with your sink: now clogged with clay from your last class with 3 kids under ten who didn't understand that when you told them not to dump clay inside the sink. You had meant it. “Fucking thing!” you groan, poking a paintbrush into the drain, hoping to get enough clay out of it so that it would run again.

Joel stares at you, half confused and half amused with the scene in front of him; your hair a mess, your apron covered in clay and paint, hacking into your sink in ways that he knows won't do you any good. He clears his throat after watching you struggle for about 30 seconds, stifling a smirk when you jump and look back at him. “Need some help? I’m s’possed to have a class now- my daughter-” he shakes his head at the idea of sharing the whole story again “Did I get the wrong time?”

You look absolutely mortified, dropping the paintbrush in the basin and giving the man in front of you a weak smile “No! No, I just got a little... occupied… you’re on time” You wipe your hands on the front of your apron, not even bothering to attempt to fix your hair, before walking over to greet him. Properly this time. “You must be Joel. Your daughter was very persuasive on the phone.”

Joel’s smirk shifts into a full-blown smile at the mention of Sarah, the pride he has for the girl shining through. “Yeah, she’s a good one.” he praises. Despite his reluctance to listen to her advice, he knows just how good her heart is, and how much she cares about him. I “Ain't sure what she told ya, and to be honest she hasn't told me what I'm s’possed to be doing here either”

You can't help but smile at his words, the pure adoration for his daughter combined with the slight nervousness in his voice was endearing in ways you weren’t sure how to describe. “No worries, I promise it isn’t anything scary.” You glance around the studio. Outside, the sky had begun to darken, the soft lighting of the different lamps inside the building casting the both of you in a warm glow. The glaze on the ceramics you had on display was a wide assortment of colors: intricately painted motifs, bright splashes of colors, silly cartoons, almost anything you could think of. You pick up a faded apron and hand it to him, watching him stretch as he puts it on. A brief flicker of guilt passes through you as you ogle him, but then you see the way his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt and the guilt gives way to something primitive.

He turns back around and you look away with a cough, a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks when he raises his brows at you. “Right um-” you stumble over your words, more unrefined than you would have liked to be “Sorry, sorry. We’ll start with choosing what you’ll want to make. I always recommend something easy, like a bowl or a spoon rest..” you pick up a pencil cup that had been painted to look like a pencil and a spoon rest that was a simple blue color, to show him “I already have the clay prepped so we can get started straight on th-”

Joel cuts you off as he glances around the studio, pointing at a lidded cookie jar “That one.” His words leave no room for argument but certainly bring questions up to the surface. “I'm gonna do that one.” You had been making ceramics for years, starting with air-dry clay in school, continuing to use the wheel throughout university, and eventually quitting your day job to start the studio. You knew the skill level it took to make a jar, the precision and technique to keep it balanced, and it just wasn’t a beginner project.

“I'm sorry, the cookie jar?” You try not to let your voice betray your disbelief. It wasn't that you lacked faith in the man in front of you, you made sure to be confident in all of your clients, it was simply an issue of skill. “I don't know if that’s the one for you to start out with, it’s a little advanced-”

But Joel was having none of it. If he was going to be forced to sit here and make something to “calm him down” then damn it it was going to be something that takes skill and effort. Something that he could bring home to Sarah and brag about slightly. Was it a little strange that he wanted to one-up his daughter and prove that he didn't need to be here? Maybe a little bit, but he didn't dwell on it. “Yes ma'am.” His voice is set in the decision. “I'm sure it can't be that bad, let me at it.”

Never one to truly tell people no, you simply nod and get the prepared clay out. It was soft and slippery, staining your hands a taupe color as you brought it to the wheel, plopping it down on the wheel, and pressing down on the sides to make sure it stuck. “Alright, so with the jar..” you gesture for him to take a seat in front of the wheel, moving to stand behind him “It’ll be a little bit more involved than something simple, but you're in good hands I promise.” Your words are soft, and frankly, you were excited. You didn't throw fun projects with clients as much as you’d like to anymore, focusing more on teaching the basics, so this was honestly a welcomed surprise. “We’ll just start with getting the basic shape of it, you’ll take your hands like this, and we’ll work it up.”

You sit on your stool behind him, usually, you’d be able to reach around and help with hand placement but good god was he broad. You adjust and readjust your position a few times, finding it oddly difficult to find the right mix between comfort and functionality, eventually ending up with your legs spread a little bit past their comfort level, so that you could lean over his shoulder and help him with the shaping. You squeeze some water onto his hands, moving them to cup the base of the clay and pop the wheel to life. His hands were big under your smaller ones, the roughness contrasting both the soft clay and your skin. You can't help but feel a twinge of something stirring inside you as you help him bring the clay up and down, your hands guiding his. Joel’s brows were knit together in concentration, both endearing and attractive as you watched him focus on the clay. The movements of his hands under yours were careful, almost hesitant, his eyes peeking back at you every so often for assurance.

Once the clay was at an appropriate size you moved your hands off of his, the wheel slowing to a stop. You swear that you see his hands twitch to stay under yours, but your mind might be playing tricks on you. “Now call me unartistic but this ain't really lookin’ like a cookie jar yet.” Joel raises his brows, a slight hint of teasing hidden in his southern drawl, and you can’t help but snort at the comment.

“I will not call you unartistic, it isn't supposed to look like a jar yet.” You hum and wipe your hands on your apron “We’ll do the lid to it later, but you have to actually make it into a bowl first.” your thumbs gently press down onto the center of the clay to form a soft dent. The wheel starts back up again slowly and you start to open the center up a little bit. “Right so now you just gotta take your thumbs like I did and- perfect!” Joel manages to press his fingers slowly against the clay, working it open, and god you wished that was you more than anything at that moment. You press on the sponge, the water dripping down his hand and onto the clay, almost sensually. Your eyes are locked on the way his thumb dips into the clay, the way the clay comes up onto his skin. Your mouth is dry, and you cough as you stand up, needing to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel's voice rings out from behind you as you move to take a drink of water, and you swear if his voice was just a tinge deeper, you would have choked right then and there. In the rush of getting up, your brain had ceased to realize that moving off the pedal would stop the wheel from turning.

You feel like an idiot. A stupid, hormonal, completely unprofessional idiot. You take a moment to scold yourself mentally before turning around to face him again. “Yeah, yes. Sorry I just realized how thirsty I was, I just needed water.” You move back to your stool behind him, halfway composed, and move to start the next step. If you'd been in front of him for one more second, you would have seen the knowing smile on his face. There was no denying the attraction between the two of you. Pressed up against each other, hands touching, dim light surrounding you both, it was inevitable. You move your hand to show him the right finger position “so you’ll want to take your middle and ring finger-” You press the two of yours inside of the bowl to give him an example and you swear he laughs a little bit.

“Oh, believe me, darlin” his voice rings out, big fingers expertly finding their way into the exact position. “I know all about this one.” You watch his fingers glide up and down the inside of the bowl, your hand on top of his, steadying his wrist. You bite at your lip, fingers shaking slightly on top of his. Your chest was pressed against his back and you could feel your nipples hardening. You were annoyingly turned on. This wasn’t normal for you, this wasn't something you do, get the hots for a client, but here you were. And with the way Joel's fingers were methodically moving over yours, you were begging that he felt the same way. “Wouldn’t mind showin’ ya all I know about it.” The want in his voice makes you clench subconsciously, your breath faltering for a second.

You hold your breath for a moment as if trying to make sure you hadn’t imagined his words in a haze of horniness, only to be broken out of that haze when he shifts and pushes his stool back, and turns around to face you. Both of your hands were covered in wet clay and your aprons were messy, neither of which stopped you from pressing your lips against his. You sigh against his mouth as your hand's fist in the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric with readily drying clay. “I don't usually do this,” you murmur when you pull away for air, your lips swollen and red.

Joel just grins at your words “S’alright, honey,” his lips find their way to your jaw and move down to your neck, his nose nudging at the fabric of your shirt. “Don't gotta explain anything to me.” His voice is like molasses, smooth and syrupy, keeping you stuck on his every word. You let him move you around, the small wooden stools were less than ideal for either of you. In the mess of standing up and finding a table to bend over your shirt comes off and he groans at the sight of you, his hands grabbing at your waist, staining your skin with water. “Good god… sight for sore eyes…” You can't help but flush slightly at his comment, feeling more exposed while you stare at his fully clothed figure.

Joel picks up on it, his hands moving from your waist to his shirt and apron, a frustrated noise leaving his mouth when the knotted strings keep him from taking it off. “Let me,” you whisper, reaching around to undo the strings, the fabric of the apron sagging and then getting tossed to some other corner of the room. You stare at him. You couldn't not stare at him. At the hair covering his chest leading down to his belt, the soft yet strong features of his body, at his hand undoing his belt. Your own shorts had been removed, your hands moving to reach into his jeans until he stopped you, a pout and protest forming on your lips.

Joel just shakes his head at you, picking you up and setting you on a relatively clean table, his body wedged between your legs. “My momma raised me to be a gentleman,” he hums against your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts, nudging your nipples with his nose before giving each of them their own kisses “I didn't take ya to dinner, at least let me get my fill yeah?” Your back fully arched into his mouth as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles were white. The feeling of his tongue flicking against the hardened bud had you moaning out in ways you had never imagined you would, and you swear you could feel him smirk even as he licked a stripe down the soft skin of your tummy.

His knees crack as he settles between your legs and the sight of him is so sinful you can't help but moan softly. He raises his brows at you, a warm chuckle leaving his mouth at the sound, his lips pressing against the inside of one of your thighs “Look that good?” His voice is laced with a gentle mocking as he presses another kiss, a hair's breadth away from your aching cunt “think I got the better view though.” You don't even have the time, nor the brainpower, to reply before his lips press against you, a groan vibrating against your skin as he tastes you. “Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had… could get damn addicted.”

Your lips are parted as his tongue swirls around your clit, your whines and moans spurring him on even further. “F-fuck joel-” you manage at some point, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs spread apart, despite how much they’d like to clamp around him. He was good at this and he knows that, moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, the words giving him a newfound energy. You feel his warm palms against your thighs keeping you spread open for him, and you almost whine when his tongue leaves your clit, only to cry out in ecstasy when his tongue prods at your pulsing hole. His nose is pressed up against your clit, giving you just the right amount of friction as he gathers your slick on his tongue, cycling between fucking it into you and laying it flat over your cunt. “Joel- joel oh fuck-” Your moans are frantic as he continues to send you closer and closer to that edge, his motions only getting faster as your hand fists in his hair. “Oh my god- fuck fuck fuuuuck-” your legs shake around his head, his hands keeping them apart as he works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were spent and hazy, laying back on the table with shuddering breaths.

Your eyes were pressed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of your orgasm, only to peek open when you hear the clink of his belt. His mouth was covered in the sheen of your orgasm, a hungry look in his eyes as he spits into his hand and pulls his cock out. “Tasted like a damn dream,” he groans while he strokes himself. “Gonna remember this forever…” Your eyes are locked on the motions of his wrist, the steady pace, the pearly precum that was leaking from his tip. “Fuckin’ perfect… makin’ me feel like a damn teenager again.” You wait with bated breath as he continues to stroke himself, wiggling your hips in order to entice him.

“Joel,” your voice is soft, but so heavily full of need it was almost painful “Please… I want you.” If you were being honest, you thought that it would take more convincing, that you would have to ask more, but Joel was desperate, maybe more so than you were and so when he sinks his cock into your dripping cunt it was ecstasy for both of you. Your eyes fall shut again at the feel of him, the stretch so much but so good. “Oh my god…” you whine, pushing yourself onto him further, your breathing stuttering when one of his hands palms at your breast, the other one gripping your hip with so much strength you think it would leave a mark.

“That’s it…” he groans, slipping into you all the way. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy, like she was made for me.” His words are punctuated with shallow thrusts that fill you up again and again. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. The feeling of his hips pressing against yours is something you would never be able to get out of your memory.

You both lay there, bodies pressed against each other, his hips rocking into you slow and steadily, the dim lighting of the studio casting an ethereal glow over the scene. His hips move at a steady pace, keeping you full of him as the coarse hairs around him press against your clit with the right amount of friction. It doesn't take much time until he's panting on top of you, your lips pressed against each other's in a heated kiss as you feel him spill inside you.

“That was…” you were breathless, his chest still against yours, the rhythm of your hearts syncing up.

“Yeah…” He grins, pressing a kiss against your forehead gently. “I know I told ya I was a gentleman but, I really would like to see you again… of course no pressure if you don't want to or anything-”

You cut him off with a small laugh before he can keep going, nudging your head against his. “I want to, Joel.” You smile gently at him “Plus, you didn't finish the jar.” You grin, looking in the direction of the unfinished work of art he had started. “And then I have to fire it, then glaze it, then fire it again, then… well you get the point, I think I’ll be seeing you quite a few more times, Joel.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

#papaya writes <3 #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #pedro characters #pedro pascal

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misteria247 · 4 months ago

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Okay but like Timmy clinging to his friends whenever he's uneasy, Danny being one of his major go tos. Like-

The first time Timmy does it is when he's still 10 and Danny's 14. Things aren't looking great, Cosmo and Wanda are out of commission from using all their magic to protect the two boys. Danny's lost in his head. Trying not to crack under pressure because the adults can't take the lead at the moment. And as his thoughts are going a mile a minute he suddenly feels it.

A tiny, trembling hand gripping the sleeve of his ghost suit.

Danny's glowing green eyes snap downwards to see who's grabbing him only to see the top of a pink hat and fluffy brown hair. Timmy hasn't looked up at Danny, his blue eyes flickering around for a possible threat. A gleam of unease shining in them. His hand is clinging so tightly to Danny's sleeve it's almost like it's attached. His frame which is usually so full of confidence and mischief and bravery is now small like. And it's this sight that makes it really obvious to Danny Fenton that Timmy Turner, the boy with the childlike wonder and care free spirit, is in reality a child.

And it hits him hard, the reality of this 10 year old fighting in battles like this. Timmy's not supposed to be apart of something like this. To fight in a fight that could end up killing him. He's a kid, who's still afraid of stuff like the boogeyman and who believes in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny and all that shit. And yet here he was, next to Danny in a fight to save their worlds, giving it his all like a grown adult and fooling everyone with how well he does it. But now with his fairies down and his back against the wall his act has begun to crack and like any child whose becoming overwhelmed he unintentionally latched onto Danny.

It's this fact and the sight of it that puts Danny back into action. That clears his thoughts and makes him focus more on the situation rather than the other factors. He doesn't mention Timmy's tight grip, instead using his other hand to grip Timmy's shoulder and give it a firm but gentle squeeze. An effort to help ground the boy. He keeps his voice low when he talks to Timmy. Asking him questions about the place their in which is apart of Timmy's dimension. All the while keeping that reassuring grip on his tiny shoulder. Before Danny knows it, Timmy's grip slowly loosens, not completely letting go but giving him enough wiggle room to get the blood flowing back into his arm. Once Timmy's back with him, it's glaringly obvious that the boy's embarrassed. His stance tense as he waits for the teen to make a sarcastic comment or nasty jab at him.

But to Timmy's surprise, Danny doesn't say anything. The ghost acts completely naturally, pretending that the moment of Timmy giving into the feelings he's felt beneath the usual front had never happened. He doesn't mention that Timmy's hand is still holding his suit sleeve, nor does he mention how close Timmy's gotten to him. Instead opting to make a plan for attack, including Timmy in them to help him focus. Once things are settled and the teams reunited and everything's saved, Danny thinks that's the last of it.

But he's wrong.

For the next several years, in moments where things are bleak and terrifying or when emotions are strung high or rubbed raw, Danny finds himself becoming the anchor for Timmy. It's almost as if that one moment had been a silent okay for Timmy to rely on him. To let the ghost see past the first barrier that the magic user keeps up. And every time Danny never says a thing, never grows annoyed with Timmy's touches or closeness in those moments. Having learned from watching the youngest member interact with his parents that him doing this was a natural thing when he was overwhelmed by everything. Even as Timmy, now 16 and Danny a grown adult in his 20s, Danny just doesn't have the heart or will or want to stop Timmy from seeking him out for comfort.

Perhaps it's a bit selfish, but Danny likes being a safe space for Timmy to go to. He likes that Timmy's comfortable enough to trust Danny, the boy who's half alive and half dead. Likes that instead of unease or fear or mistrust that there's someone out there who doesn't feel that around him. So he never probes, afraid of shattering this trust between them. So when Timmy one day tells him-

"You know.....out of everyone here, you're the I feel the most secure and safe around. I mean I love the others and trust them with my life and my parents are one of the best things in my life. But......with you it's different. It's like.....you get me in a way that no one else can."

And Danny he's just........stunned when he hears this and he completely understands exactly where Timmy's coming from. He completely gets what the buck tooth teenager is trying to express. Because Danny feels the exact same way. In a single moment, they'd become the other's safe space. The sibling that the other didn't even realize they needed till a small 10 year old boy gripped a 14 year old boy's sleeve all those years ago. And Danny he just gives Timmy this knowing stare, before playfully messing up the boy's hair. Making him squawk in displeasure and swat at the older man and as they settle into their normal quips and sarcastic remarks towards one another, there's an air of contentment and peace between them. Both of them reassured that they'd always have each other.

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something-tofightfor · 12 days ago

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To: You, From: Santa (1)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,952

Summary: Participating in the office Secret Santa exchange shouldn't be nervewracking ... but when Tim Rockford is involved, that changes.

Rating: M, just for language though.

Author's Note:

I meant to have this done for Christmas in July, but didn't... so have my annual cheesy Hallmark Christmas story for actual Christmas instead. Also, it was supposed to be like 6 k max, and now it's pushing 17. whoops.

This is not connected to Black Days. Reader works in Tim's precinct, but not as a fellow officer/detective. I have no idea how the actual evidence rooms work, so suspend disbelief here a little when it comes to chain of custody, please and thank you.

Part 2 is completed and scheduled to post on Wednesday, December 18.

Thanks for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

He was paid to figure things out, but Detective Tim Rockford was stumped when it came to choosing a gift.

He’d happily joined the department’s Secret Santa exchange, filling out the form with his name and his interests along with a few gift suggestions - just like everyone else. And he’d hoped that whatever name he’d drawn would be a simple buy - a gift card or a pair of thick socks or even a bottle of wine or chocolates, like it was every year.

But the moment he’d unfolded his chosen name, Tim had known that things wouldn’t be that easy. Because he hadn’t drawn Betty in accounting or David in dispatch. It wasn’t as simple as getting his partner’s name and cutting the season’s gift buying number down by one.

Instead, Tim had drawn your name … and that was a problem - which meant that he’d need to take drastic measures to solve it.

Your job was typically an easy one, with long lulls between in person interactions.

As an evidence officer for the police department precinct, you had it good. It was a lot of paperwork, but it was easy, and it meant that you could zone out and listen to music for the majority of your shift. It was much better than the last assignment you’d had, and despite the difficult situations many of the people that came to see you were in, they were usually pleasant enough.

Especially Tim Rockford.

He had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but whenever he came down to see you, he was nothing but friendly. You assumed that it had to do with the fact that without you - and your help - his job would have been much more difficult, but you liked to pretend that that wasn’t the case.

You also liked to think about what it would be like to see him in normal circumstances.

You imagined sitting in the courtyard with him, talking about things that had nothing to do with police work or evidence, his glasses discarded on the table beside him as he leaned in closer. Other times, you let yourself daydream about seeing him at a bar or a restaurant, or even a store, and the two of you conversing without a time limit.

But in reality, you’d never said more than a few words at a time to him outside of work requirements - nothing more in-depth than a hey, how’s it going? or a have a good weekend, get some sleep. Because if there was one thing you knew about Detective Tim Rockford, it was that when he was at work, he was focused.

It was why he had the second highest close rate in the county. It was why other departments and divisions turned to him for help, sending over files and evidence that you needed to check in and out to him. It was one of the reasons why you’d chosen to admire him from afar for the year that you’d worked with him.

You heard the rumors about his dating life, because the other women in the department liked to gossip. In the rare moments you were up on the main level of the building, you’d glimpsed him interacting with other officers and employees, his lips quirked into a small smile as his attention was focused on them. You had a feeling that he could truly turn on the charm when necessary, and while part of you was very interested in finding out exactly what being the focus of that felt like, you knew that it was probably a terrible idea at the same time.

So you kept to yourself for the majority of your day, ensuring that the evidence logs were organized and everything was accounted for.

You talked to the people that came down for various reasons, and helped them find things when it was necessary.

You did your job and did it well, the praise coming in emailed memos from your bosses and coworkers, and in the form of treats like cups of good coffee and snacks from some of your favorite local places left at your window or handed directly to you across the counter.

It made the days go faster, and it gave you a chance to get to know some of the men and women that relied on you at the same time. Which meant that it didn’t surprise you when Amy, one of the dispatch girls, came up to you in the break room one day just after Thanksgiving, shaking a small box back and forth.

You were thrilled to participate in the Secret Santa exchange, and looked forward to shopping for whoever you picked from the remaining names - until you unfolded the paper and saw familiar handwriting scrawled across the different sections.

It was just your luck that out of about 50 possible matches, you’d pulled Tim Rockford’s name.

You had one headphone in and were scrolling through your phone, a half eaten bag of chips on the table in front of you when you heard his voice. “Can I sit?” Glancing up, your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Tim Rockford standing just beside your table, a grease-spotted paper bag in one hand. “All the other tables are full.”

“Sure.” Nodding, you gestured to the chair in front of him. “I’m almost done anyway, so you’ll have it to yourself soon.” You still had nearly 20 minutes before you needed to be back downstairs, but the truth was that you didn’t know if you trusted yourself to be in his presence for that long, or if you’d be able to make coherent conversation with him if he was interested in talking.

Because that day, Tim was a little more disheveled than usual, his hair messy and tie loosened so that the top button of his shirt could be undone. You liked the way it looked - probably a little too much - and didn’t want what would likely be the longest conversation you’d ever had ruined by your awkwardness about the peek of skin at his throat.

He unpacked the bag, pulling out a white container that you recognized as from the preferred Chinese restaurant for most of the department. It was followed by a small plastic tub of wonton soup. “This is probably the first time in weeks I’ve gotten to eat while my food’s still the right temperature.”

“Yeah?” You pulled the earbud out, sliding it back into the case and snapping it shut. “No cases to crack?”

“We actually just wrapped one up,” he started to speak while he opened the container, dumping in the bag of crispy noodles that had come with it. “The Boulton case? That old lady who -”

“Oh, the one that killed her husband all those years ago?” Tim noded, carefully stirring the soup before lifting a spoonful to his lips. “It’s done? I wondered why you hadn’t come to visit me in the evidence room lately.”

“It’s done.” He confirmed with a nod, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses. “Made the final arrest this morning, and now we wait for the trial.”

“Congrats, Detective.” You raised your drink in salute, giving him a smile. “That had the whole department stumped.”

“It did. We were all going in fucking circles.” He chewed, nodding as he narrowed his eyes and looked at you thoughtfully. “And there’s plenty more for me to work on, but I decided …” He leaned in, grinning. “Fuck it, I’m taking the rest of the day to myself.”

It was officially the longest conversation that you’d had with Tim, but you’d already learned something valuable to you - and your search for the right gift for him. And it’s got to do with his food preferences. “And yet you’re still here, eating take out, and -”

“I’m observing.” He wrinkled his nose. “I have to figure out what to get my Secret Santa, and I’m not going to do that by going home.” He pointed at the door, shaking his head. “I’ve already done my rounds and talked to a few people, asked a couple questions.”

“Who do you have?” Leaning back in your chair, you cocked your head to the side. “Maybe I can help. I’m in here a lot and -”

“I can’t tell you that.” He took a bite of rice, rolling his eyes. “Defeats the whole purpose of a secret Santa, hmm?” It did, he was correct, but you’d still had to try. “Who do you have?”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling.” Eating one of the chips, you scowled at him. “It’s only fair.” Plus I want to see if I can figure something out for you that isn’t a gift card or a magazine subscription. He laughed again, returning to his food. “Why don’t you just get one of the things they asked for? We all filled out three suggestions, so that makes it simple.”

“I’m a detective.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, staring at you. “I should be able to figure out something that’s not a standard $25 gift.”

“I have faith in you.” You finished your drink, twisting the cap back onto the bottle and setting it down. “I’ve seen the way you go through evidence. And you’ve still got like two and a half weeks.”

“I do.” He sighed, rubbing a hand against his jaw. “And now that I’m not thinking about this case 25/8, maybe I’ll have time to figure it out.” That made you laugh, and after a few seconds Tim joined you, the sound of it filling your chest with warmth. “At least tell me this.” He crossed his arms and then tapped his finger a few times against his bicep. “Are you buying them something that they put on the list?”

“I hope not.” Giving him a onceover, you shrugged. “Nobody puts personal things on these damn lists, though. It’s all ‘candy’ or ‘a gift card’ or ‘fuzzy socks’ or ‘lottery tickets’.” You checked the time, sighing as you realized your break was almost over. Get one more question in. “What did you put on your list, Tim?”

He pressed his lips together and then reached up, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table before he rubbed at his eyes. “Lottery tickets, a gift card to the grocery store by my house and the first throw blanket that came up when I searched Amazon because my feet get cold when I lay on my couch and watch movies.” You tried to hold back your laugh and failed, because even though you’d known that those things were on his list, hearing him say them was amusing. “I know. It’s a shitty list, but me telling my family what I want is just as bad.”

“You just want to win the lottery so you can quit your job.” He chuckled, his smile soft and his deep brown eyes glittering in the fluorescent lighting. No one should look that fucking handsome in this lighting. No one.

“But if I quit my job, I won’t have lunch breaks like this one to look forward to.” You sighed, pushing to your feet and gathering your trash so that you had an excuse not to meet his eyes. He’s not flirting. He can’t be. “Time to go back?”

“Yeah, I’m going to turn into a pumpkin unless I get back to the evidence locker on time.” He snorted, poking his fork into the container again, though he didn’t look away from you. “Have a good rest of your relaxing day, Detective Rockford.”

He assured you he would, nodding once before you turned away and headed for the door. You were proud of yourself for holding an actual conversation and not making a fool of yourself. You’d even made him laugh without trying too hard. All in all, things could have gone much worse.

The only problem was that that single conversation had turned your manageable crush on Tim into a full-blown interest, and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

Over the next few days, Tim turned his attention to other cases, painstakingly making his way through information that he’d previously collected and trying to see if there were things he’d missed. He found a new clue here and there, adding information to the files and making a few phone calls to talk to witnesses and others that had been involved. He even made a couple appointments to meet with people, scheduling them out so that he had time to prepare.

But he hadn’t made his way down to the evidence locker at any point, because there’d been no need to. And that disappointed him, because after the conversation you’d had in the break room, Tim wanted to talk to you more.

He’d gotten no good ideas from you for your gift, which was to be expected. That didn’t mean he hadn't learned anything, though.

The short conversation across the table had shown him that you had a sense of humor. It told him that you could keep up with his jokes, and that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. It also told him that your face lit up when you were amused, and that you made eye contact when you spoke directly to people, even if it took you a few seconds to warm up.

It would have been easy enough for him to ask you out. He knew from others in the office that you weren’t seriously seeing anyone, and that you’d moved to the area after a long term relationship had ended. He’d also looked through your social media for more clues about who you were outside of work, and what he’d learned, he liked.

You liked reading. You liked movies. You liked coffee and animals, and had a penchant for using emojis in your comment replies to family and friends online. He’d also learned that you were planning on taking almost two weeks of vacation at the end of the year, beginning just after the holiday party and timed so that you had both Christmas and New Year’s off.

It would mean that for those two weeks, he’d be dealing with Anthony if he needed access to your storeroom or anything in it, and at the realization, Tim’s nose wrinkled. That’s enough of a reason for me to request time off then, too. He didn’t, though, only entertaining the thought for long enough to consider the fact that his Lieutenant had said they’d be short staffed over the holidays as it was. And so I stay here.

He replayed your conversation over and over in his mind while at work and at home. By the time he actually needed visit to the evidence room again, he was almost desperate for a second one, which was out of character for him.

You weren’t at the window when the elevator doors opened on your floor, and so Tim did the only thing that he could think to do: he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, trying to peer around the corner and see if maybe you were down one of the aisles. It wouldn’t be unattended. No way.

He was right. When you appeared a few seconds later, two boxes in hand, he let out a breath in relief, pushing away from the wall and heading toward you. “Afternoon.” He nodded twice, settling his hands on the countertop. “I’m sure this comes as no surprise, but I need your help.”

“Of course you do. Why else would you be down here?” You set the boxes down and then picked up the phone, dialing out. “Give me two seconds.” He waited, keeping his eyes on you as you completed the call and let someone know that you had their evidence ready, and all they needed to do was come down and sign for it. You looked tired, and when Tim saw you stifle a yawn, he briefly wondered what it was that had kept you from sleeping soundly. None of my business, though. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“Need to take a look at some evidence from an open case.” You nodded, clicking on your computer screen and then looking expectantly at him. “Malwes. From about three months ago.” You nodded, typing, and then a few seconds later, you tapped on the screen, your smile widening.

“Got it. Are you signing it out, or just using the room to go through it?” He’d planned on taking it back up to his office, since the main thing he needed to look at was a logbook. But unless he was mistaken, there was a hopeful tone to your voice. Does she want me to stay?

“I’ll stay down here.” He scratched the side of his neck. “Can’t hurt.” You tapped a few more times and then reached for your sign-out sheet, sliding it across to Tim. He took the pen from you and scrawled his name in the right space, watching as you initialed it and entered the time before unlocking the door.

He entered the room and once the door was shut - and locked - behind him, you spun away from the counter and motioned for him to follow you. “Should be right at the end of the shelf. I remember seeing that name the last time I was in here.” He eyed you as you walked ahead of him, confidently leading him down the aisle before reaching for the box and handing it over. “See? I was right.”

“You were.” Your fingers brushed against his when he took the evidence from you, but you didn’t bat an eye, instead just grinning before you pointed back at the lobby, letting him know where you were headed. No, I want to see you. “You want me to sit out there with you? I didn’t know if you’d want me to hang out in here.”

“If you don’t mind.” Sighing, you lowered your head. “It’s really dumb, but the guy I just called to come get files? He’s … asked me out a couple times, and I figure maybe if someone else is sitting there, he won’t do it again.” He felt his jaw lock into place, and Tim watched your posture as you spoke, trying to figure out just how bothered you were. “He’s not being a creep about it or anything, but just hasn’t gotten the hint yet.”

“Of course.” He set the box down and then slid into one of the seats while you headed back for the counter, leaning against it to look over at him. “So you don’t want to go out with the guy?”

“No.” You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. “I just don’t think we’d have anything in common. He’s not my type.” And what is your type? He watched you for a few seconds longer and then hummed in agreement before turning to his work.

He glanced over at you a few times over the following few minutes, watching as you sipped from a plastic cup that was half filled with ice and some sort of liquid. He smiled when he heard you grumble about the ice never lasting. Hmm. That’s helpful. But it wasn’t until the elevator doors opened that he truly let his attention waver.

Tim halfheartedly flipped through the pages of the book as he listened to you talk to the other person there - a younger officer named Marty. You were friendly, though you made no attempt to engage the other man in additional conversation, Not like she did with me. When you stepped away from the counter to head back into the file room for a different box, Tim finally looked all the way up, meeting Marty’s eyes and giving him a single nod.

“Didn’t see you back there, Detective.” He sounded disappointed, and Tim was barely able to hide his reaction, biting the inside of his cheek to conceal his smirk. “Decided to visit the evidence cave today, too?”

“I did.” He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “Sorry I’m using the table.” The younger man waved him off, rising onto his tiptoes to peer around the corner and look for you. “Which case are you working on?”

“Drug bust with weapons. I need to check some numbers and make sure one of the serials matches the -”

‘Here.” You appeared again, holding up a small bag. “Not in a box.” You stepped back as Marty began to rifle through what was in front of him, occasionally scribbling something down into a notepad that he’d pulled from his pocket. He slid everything back toward you when he finished, and you marked down the time in your ledger, tucking that back beneath the counter as you gathered everything up to carry back to the shelves.

“Got any plans this weekend?” Seriously? “There’s a movie theater at the mall that’s rereleasing a bunch of holiday movies between now and Christmas, and this Saturday’s Edward Scissorhands. Tickets usually sell out pretty quick, so I thought I’d ask now.”

“Saturday? I …” You sighed, and Tim could see that you were trying to come up with an excuse. She shouldn’t need to. “I’m off work, but -”

“She’s going to help me out.” Tim cleared his throat, gesturing with one hand. “I’m stumped with my Secret Santa gift, and need someone to tag along while I shop.” Marty frowned, disappointment evident on his features for a few seconds. Good. “I figured we’d go later in the day and grab dinner as a thank you for her help, so…” He finally looked over at you, unsure of what to expect - and was floored with the gratitude he saw in your expression.

“Didn’t they give you like …three ideas for gifts?” Marty tucked the notebook away, frowning. “Just buy something from that list. That’s what I did.” Of course it is.

“I could do that.” Tim nodded, adjusting his glasses. “But my giftee only gave me one idea, and it was a hat, and I have no idea what to get.” He paused, thinking. “What other movies are they showing?”

“I…” Marty was flustered by the question, but recovered quickly. “I don’t know. Gremlins I think. Die Hard. National Lampoon. Elf. They -”

“Die Hard’s one of my favorites.” Tim laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “People say it’s not a Christmas movie, but it definitely is.”

“I agree.” You spoke up, the attention of both men immediately on you. “My family had that argument a lot “ Tim’s smile widened while Marty’s expression went even more sour, the second man sighing loudly. “And I appreciate you asking, Marty, but even if I wasn’t going with Tim, the answer still would have been no, just like it was last time. I’m not trying to send any mixed signals here.”

“That’s fine.” Marty shrugged. “Just trying to be nice. I won’t ask again.” He spun away from the counter and headed back for the elevator, you and Tim staring after him.

But neither of you spoke until the doors closed, and it was you that did first, covering your face with both hands and muttering good, you jackass. He shifted in his chair, angling his body toward you, but Tim kept quiet, waiting to see if you’d say anything else. “Thank you, Tim.” Lowering your hands, you shook your head. “You didn’t have to say anything. I just … I don’t think he liked being turned down in front of someone, and -”

“No is a complete sentence.” He shrugged. “You’ve said no before, he shouldn’t keep asking.”

“Some people just don’t get the hint.” Biting down on your lower lip, you gestured to the boxes and bag. “I’m going to put these away. If anyone comes down, can you tell them I’ll be right back?”

“Sure.” He watched you go, chest rising and falling as he replayed the previous few minutes. It had been a kneejerk reaction to make up plans that involved the two of you, but your reaction hadn’t been what he was expecting. Does she actually want to go with me?

No one came down while you were gone, and when you reappeared, Tim looked over at you, stunned to see that you were nervous. “I don’t know if you really meant that you needed my help on Saturday, but I don’t have plans.” You paused, and he watched as your fingers flexed, curling in toward your palms. “So if you want -”

“I meant it.” His heart thumped in his chest, Tim fighting to keep his smile from erupting. You have no idea how much I meant it. “Shopping and dinner. But only if you want to.” He jerked his thumb toward the elevator. “If you tell me no, I’ll accept it.”

There was a silence that stretched for a few seconds between you, and for a moment, Tim wondered if you were going to turn him down. But then you grinned, nodding your head and dropping back into your chair without taking your eyes off of him.

“I bet you don’t hear no too often, Detective.” Arching a brow, you continued. “And you’re certainly not going to hear it from me.”

It was just an afternoon of shopping and a quick dinner, so you didn’t know why you were so anxious about it.

Tim had offered to pick you up because of limited parking options, and you’d agreed but that only made it worse. It meant that you’d be in the car with him for almost a full hour between the two destinations, which meant filling those rides with small talk.

You were almost certain that he was interested in you - at least physically - based solely on the way he looked at you. His brown eyes focused on your face when you spoke, though you’d seen him eyeing you almost greedily when he thought you hadn’t been looking. It didn’t bother you in the way that it did when other men leered, though. Because you believed Tim when he said he’d respect your decisions, and his disgust with Marty’s behavior hadn’t been for show.

But knowing that he reciprocated your interest was one thing - and finding the right way to act on it was another.

He pulled up a few minutes before he’d planned to, and when you stepped out to meet him, you wrinkled your nose at the fine mist that was falling. Pulling your hood up, you made a dash for the car, surprised to see that Tim had exited his side and was moving toward yours. “No, Tim! It’s gross out, stay inside.” You waved him off, laughing as you flung the door open and slid into the front passenger seat, Tim getting back in next to you and groaning.

When you looked over, you laughed harder at the sight of the lenses of his glasses, which were covered in water droplets. “I was just trying to be nice.” He grumbled the words out as he reached for a cloth to wipe them clean. “Hi.” He looked over at you once they were situated on his nose again. “You ready?”

“Hi.” He was even more handsome up close and in the confines of his car, the interior of it almost cozy. It’s warm and it smells like his cologne. “Thanks for coming to get me, Tim.”

He nodded in reply and then pulled away from the curb, staying quiet until you were on the main road. “I thought we’d go to the mall. There’s a lot of stores there, so I can look for a couple things that aren’t for my Secret Santa, too, if that’s alright.” He looked over at you, waiting for your nod. “And then we can pick somewhere in the mall or around it for dinner, as long as you’re not sick of me by then.”

“I might be sick of the crowds, but I don’t think I’ll be sick of you after a couple hours.” You nudged him with your elbow. “I hope we find something today.”

“Me too.” He sighed. “I’m running out of days off.” Laughing quietly, you settled into the seat, briefly closing your eyes as you inhaled. If the first few minutes were setting the tone, the rest of the day was going to be fun.

You made small talk until you parked at the mall, choosing an entrance via one of the department stores instead of the main one. It worked to your advantage, and when you were inside, you and Tim stepped off to the right of the doors, making a gameplan. He wanted to go into four stores, but they were in different sections of the mall, which meant that you’d pass others on the way.

“You said you’re looking for a hat?” He nodded as you started to walk through the store, Tim walking to your left. “You won’t tell me who, but can you at least tell me if it’s for a man or a woman? Or if you’re looking for something universal? I need something to go on if I’m going to help you.”

“It’s for a woman.” He eyed a rack of clothes as you passed it, and then turned his head to look at you. “But I don’t want to buy anything over the top. She wrote in a color preference.” That helps. But if she said that much, he could have picked something. “Blue, green, or black were her top three colors.” You nodded, thinking. “What about you? Do you need to look for your gift while we’re here?”

“No, actually.” You stopped to browse a rack of hats and gloves, flipping through piles that you were certain had been neatly folded earlier in the day. “I took care of mine earlier this week.” Looking up, you gave him a broad smile. “Ordered it online, and -”

“What did you get?” He moved to stand next to you, picking up a black hat and then making a face when he saw a giant bow on the side of it. “Was it something on their list?”

“Nope.” You held up a hat in hunter green, Tim reaching over to take it from you to look at the design on the interior fabric. “And I’m not telling. But it’s something for them to use and not just to have.”

Part of you hated teasing him, but you knew that once he opened his gift, he’d immediately understand your clues. I just hope he likes it. And that he’s not … that he doesn’t assume anything. “I could interrogate you.” You both stepped away from the display, Tim once again walking beside you. “I’ve been told that I’m pretty good at it.”

The thought made you weak in the knees, and though you wanted to believe you could handle his questions, deep down you knew that it was more likely you’d cave almost immediately under the intensity of his gaze. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m sure you are.” You exited the department store and stepped into the mall, the sound of Christmas music and an assortment of chatter from the other shoppers loud in your ears. “And I’m sure you could, but that wouldn’t be fair, Tim.”

“Probably not.” He laughed, stepping closer to you to get out of the way while a group of teenagers passed in the opposite direction.”Do they always move in packs?”

“They do.” You pointed at a second group, which was gathered around a pair of benches in the center aisle. “Gives them more confidence for when they’re being annoying little shits.” That made Tim laugh again, and you were pleased to realize that he didn’t move away even when the crowd thinned, giving both of you more space.

“It’s been so long since I was a damn high schooler. I must be out of practice.” He guided you toward another store with a single touch to the back of your arm. “And speaking of high schoolers, I have to pick up a game for my nephew. It should be waiting for us.” You liked the way that sounded - us - but didn’t say that out loud. It would be weird.

There was a short line at the counter, and while he waited in it, you looked around, trying to keep yourself busy. It also gave you time to think - and to process Tim’s behavior in the little while you’d been together. The touching was new, and so was the joking, at least to the extent of it that day. So would it be ok if I touched him back? There was no way you’d do anything as bold as taking his hand or putting your arm around him, but looking through shelves and displays meant you’d be near enough to rest your hand on his back, or even squeeze his arm to get his attention.

It was silly, and in some ways as juvenile as the behavior of the teenagers you’d seen, but there were plenty of factors to consider when it came to being forward with Tim. Namely our jobs. You could have just asked if he was interested. You could have told him you were, just to see what happened. You could turn up the charm and flirt enough to let him know you were open to hooking up with him. But I don’t know him well enough to begin to guess what he’s thinking. So I won’t. I’ll just -

“Got it.” He stood in front of you, holding up a bag. “Ready to brave the crowds again?” You nodded in agreement, giving him a onceover as you did, and letting your gaze linger - just for a few seconds - on his face.

For someone as perceptive as Tim, you decided that subtlety was the way to go - because if he caught it, then it meant that he was watching you just as closely.

He was almost certain that you were flirting with him, but he didn’t know what you wanted him to do about it.

There was a chance that it was just because for the first time, you were together outside of the precinct. He was getting to see you outside of work, to talk to you about whatever came up and without the end of a lunch break or the approach of someone else that needed one of you looming.

And you’d been staring at him occasionally, especially when you’d thought he was otherwise occupied. The truth was that he liked it, and it had been a little while since the feeling things out stage of a friendship had excited him.

He thought that if he asked you point blank if you were into him, you’d answer honestly. He also had a feeling that if he made his interest in you known, you’d respond well to it. But if she doesn’t, then … it complicates things. It would make working with you awkward, and it had the potential to make you feel uncertain about him and his intentions. The fact that he’d driven you to the mall was another consideration, because he didn’t want you to feel trapped. So we’ll just do this.

You made your way through the mall, looking into niche stores as well as ones that sold winter clothing, and Tim was enamored with the fact that you took shopping seriously, even when it was for things he was looking for.

He had no intention of buying you a hat, and was actually searching for one based on his niece’s preferences. But being near the hats also put the two of you close to the other cold-weather accessories, and that was helpful. He watched the things you looked at, making note of the ones you picked up to take a closer look - a pair of gloves compatible with a touch screen in soft gray, a fringed scarf that had a pocket near each end for you to stick your hands in, and a slouchy hat that you contemplated trying on but then decided not to.

You tried to stay focused, though, redirecting the your attention to him and asking more questions about his shopping goals … but you managed to sneak a few more personal ones in there, too. He answered them, being mindful of oversharing, but also found an opportunity to ask a few of his own in at the same time.

He found out more about your holiday plans, and about your vacation time. He learned what you’d already bought in the way of gifts for your family and friends. And even though it was potentially overstepping, he decided to ask you the most personal thing he’d mentioned that day while the two of you stopped to take a break, planting yourselves at one of the food court tables with drinks.

“Do you have anyone special to buy a gift for this year?” He worded it specifically to see what type of answer you gave him, and to Tim’s relief, you didn’t disappoint.

“Do you mean a guy?” He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “No, I don’t make it a habit of buying gifts for men that I go out on one date with before deciding not to see them again.” You removed your coat as you talked, draping it over the back of your chair. “I broke up with my long term boyfriend about a year ago, and ended up having to move. That’s why I wound up working this job.”

“That’s a long time.” You rolled your eyes, sipping through your straw while you shrugged. “Nothing since?”

“Nothing worth talking about.” Pushing your drink to the side, you linked your fingers together and narrowed your eyes. “But since you brought it up … if a year’s a long time to be single, what about you? People talk, Tim, and nobody’s talked about you having a girlfriend in the time I’ve been there.”

“Dating’s shit with my hours.” He dragged his thumb over the top of his cup, thinking. “It’s unpredictable. Women don’t like that.” He thought of the arguments he’d had with the woman he’d most recently dated, wincing at the memory of her accusations of feeling ignored. “I’ve tried, but nothing lasts. My Secret Santa gift will be the only gift I get this year for a woman I’m not related to.” You laughed at his words, closing your eyes as you nodded in agreement.

“There are plenty of women in the precinct that would date you.” Biting your lip, you blinked innocently at him. “I hear them talking. I’m sure you do, too.”

“That gets complicated.” He frowned, trying to figure out if you were trying to bait him into digging deeper, or if you were just making conversation. “Messy, especially when there’s different ranks involved.” Is she trying to get me to ask who’s interested in me? “And I like my job, so…”

Your face fell - just briefly, but it was enough to make him certain that you were in fact one of the ones interested in him, and that the thought that nothing could be done about it was upsetting to you. I should reassure her. I should -

“Detective Rockford?” He recognized the voice and groaned at the sound, both of you turning toward the source. “I just wanted to let you know that it’s cruel to put an old woman in jail right before the holidays.” His gaze flicked over to you, and he saw confusion written on your features as you stared at the redheaded woman, your head cocked to the side. Shit.

“Ms. Boulton, we shouldn’t speak to each other outside of the -”

“I don’t want to talk to you, I just want you to listen.” She stepped closer to your table, and for the first time, Tim noticed the shopping bags hung over her arm, some of them bulging. “My grandmother did nothing wrong. And she’s going to prove it in -”

“We wouldn’t have arrested her if we didn’t have evidence. I understand that she’s family, but …” He stood up, turning his attention onto you again and hoping that you recognized the pleading look in his eyes. “But it’s still an ongoing case, and I can’t say anything more than that.”

“You’re dating someone that arrests old women.” She turned her attention on you, her body angled toward where you were still sitting, fingers wrapped loosely around your cup. “Old women that did nothing wrong except try and keep their family’s legacy alive.” She pointed at him, head whipping back and forth. “So that’s the kind of man you-”

“If Tim arrests someone, he’s got a reason to.” You stood then, reaching for your coat. “And if he is wrong about your grandmother? That’ll come out in court.” Zipping your jacket, you straightened it once you were done. “But you causing a scene in a mall food court isn’t going to help anything, so I suggest you listen to his advice and don’t make this worse for yourself right now.”

Tim watched the redhead’s expression shift from anger to disbelief and then back to anger before it softened into defeat. It sucks for her, but holy shit that was hot. “I can’t believe you.” She spun away and stormed off without saying anything else, and Tim watched as you watched her go, your features set in a thoughtful expression. She’s amazing.

“I’m sorry about that.” He bit his lip and stuck a hand on his hip. “I didn’t think -”

“That from your case last week?” You finally looked at him, your expression softening. “I can’t blame her for being upset, but I don’t … I don’t know what she thought was going to happen.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been approached in public by a family member or friend, and it won’t be the last.” He sighed, reaching for his shopping bags with one hand and the empty cup with his other. “I’m just sorry you had to deal with it, too.”

“Don’t apologize.” You headed toward trash cans and then to the opposite side of the mall, Tim once again beside you. “You can’t control what other people do.” You were right, and when he mumbled a thank you, he was rewarded with a bright smile and a wrinkle of your nose. The combination of the two lightening the mood immensely. “You ready to finish shopping?”

He nodded once, and then after only a moment of thought, he reached out with his free hand, setting it gently against your back, urging you forward.

“What about this one?” He held up a deep green hat with metallic thread woven into the pattern and a puffy ball at one end. “Would you wear it?”

“I would.” You took it from him, nodding. “It’s big enough that it’ll fit over just about any hairstyle and onto anyone’s head, it’s slouchy enough that it doesn’t have to be pulled tight over someone’s ears to make it look good, and the color is nice. I think this is a winner, Tim.” He beamed at you, and you were happy to see that the interruption from Maddie Boulton hadn’t put a damper on the remainder of your day. “You want to go pay?”

“Sure.” He nodded twice, dropping his gaze from your face back to the display. “Unless there’s… oh, shit, look at those.” He stepped to the side and you followed, confused as he reached for pairs of fuzzy socks, which were haphazardly loaded onto a circular display. “These are…” He laughed as he picked up a pair featuring penguins on candy cane skis, holding them up to you. “Who comes up with this?”

You reached past him, grabbing a pair that had dinosaurs in Santa hats on them. “I don’t know but these are great, right?” He chuckled, returning the first pair to the pile and then pawing through them to grab a second. “Oh, reindeer with lights in their antlers? A little predictable, but still a classic.”

“I like ‘em.” He shrugged, eyeing the socks before he set them down. “They’re soft. Probably really warm.”

“You should get yourself a pair. You said your feet get cold, and you might not get that blanket you asked for.”

“Today’s not about buying myself things, or I would.” He looked back at you. “We can go pay, if -” Tim frowned and stopped mid sentence, reaching for his pocket and then pulling his phone out. “Shit, I have to take this.” He answered the phone. “Hey, I’m here. Give me one second, alright?” He reached toward you, holding the hat out until you took it, keeping the phone pressed between his cheek and his ear. “Take this, if you want to go pay, that way we can get out of here and you won’t be standing and waiting for me." Tim took money out of his wallet and handed it to you, still smiling. “I’ll meet you by the exit. It’s work, so…”

He trailed off but you agreed, taking the money, too, and watching as he returned to the phone call. He greeted another detective by name as he spun away from you and walked back the way you’d come. It was an abrupt change in pace for the day, but as you eyed his retreating shoulders, you realized that it also gave you an opportunity. He’s not getting the blanket from me, but the socks… I can get him the socks.

You selected the pair with the reindeer and then made your way over to the nearest cashier, getting in line. It went fast, even with two transactions, and after you’d stuffed Tim’s socks into the interior pocket of your jacket and zipped it shut, you headed off to find him.

He was still on the phone, but smiled and nodded as you approached, holding his hand out to take his change - and then the bag - from you, mouthing the words thank you before returning to the conversation.

You didn’t want to hover, so you walked a few steps away and sat down on a bench, pulling your own phone out. You figured that dinner was next on the agenda since Tim had finished his shopping, and while part of you was relieved that the outing had gone smoothly, another part of you didn’t want it to be over.

Hanging out with Tim was nice. Getting to know him was even nicer. And being the focus of his attention for longer than the span of a single conversation at work was the nicest thing of all, if you were being honest. Maybe we can do it again sometime. You looked up and over at him just in time to see that he was sticking his phone back in his pocket, lips set in a thin line. That doesn’t look good.

When he made it over to you, though, he gave you a small smile, holding his hand out to help you up from the bench. You liked the way it felt to have his fingers curl around yours and were sad to lose the contact when he let go. “Everything alright? That was a long call.”

“Yeah, he was just updating me on something with one of our cases. They made some progress while working on something else, and wanted to ask my opinion. It’s important, but not important enough to cut this,” he said while gesturing between the two of you, his smile growing, “short.”

“But you’re done. All we’d miss out on is dinner, so if you need to go, I can -”

“No. Dinner’s the part I’ve been looking forward to most.” He stepped next to you while you started walking again, Tim close enough that his arm hit yours every few steps. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I am.” Your chest filled with warmth, and you wondered if he caught the smile you attempted to hide by looking down and turning your head to the side, away from him. “So where do you want to go? Somewhere in the mall? We can eat at the food court.”

“I’m not taking you to dinner at the food court.” He laughed, tossing his head back and giving you an incredulous look. “We’re going to figure something else out.” You agreed, letting your mind wander to contemplate what was between your house and the mall. But when you felt Tim’s hand on your arm again, you stopped, focusing on him. “Oh, shit, this must be the movie theater Marty was talking about.”

You looked to the right and saw that instead of the usual ‘COMING SOON’ posters, one wall to the side of the theater was adorned with posters depicting Christmas movies and dates that they were playing. Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize we’d walked this far. “It must be.” You pressed your lips together. “Looks like tonight’s sold out, though.” Pointing at the poster, you sighed. “If only I’d agreed to go with him, we could be sitting inside the theater and watching it snow.”

“You’d rather be here with Marty? I’m offended.” Tim nudged you, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time I think about asking you to hang out.” Your heart soared at the implication that he wanted to see you again, even to do something as mundane as run errands. But he said it. And even if he’s joking, there’s still some truth to it.

“I’m perfectly happy here with you, Detective Rockford.” Cocking your head to the side, you took a deep breath. Just go for it. “If you ask me to hang out again, I would not require an outside excuse in order to turn you down.” That got another laugh, but you also saw his nod, Tim’s eyes glittering as he stared at you.

“Even better.” He rubbed a hand over his cheek and then looked over your shoulder and to the box office, the tip of his tongue flashing against his lips as he wet them. “But I really kinda do want to see Die Hard, so if you give me a second, I’m going to go and see if I can grab tickets.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took a second to respond. “You’ll have the night off?” He nodded, one corner of his mouth rising as he smiled briefly. “I’ll wait here.” He spun away from you and you watched him go, fingers curling into a loose fist at your side. I hope it’s sold out. Otherwise …

The afternoon you’d talked about it in the breakroom, you’d gone online and bought two tickets to the movie as Tim’s main Secret Santa gift. Since the showings were discounted, you’d still had some budget leftover, which was why you’d chosen the socks - and still had a couple extra bucks remaining for the final part of his gift. But the tickets might be redundant if he buys one tonight.

There was no way for you to clue him in without giving yourself away, though, and so you watched and waited as Tim stood in line, occasionally glancing back in your direction. You wondered if it was just one of his mannerisms; constant awareness of his surroundings was a big part of his job, after all. But another, more hopeful part of you believed that he was specifically looking back and for you.

When he turned away from the counter and headed back to where you waited, you felt a cautious optimism. And that feeling intensified when he rolled his eyes at you, frowning. “They were sold out.” He confirmed the news when he was only a few feet away, dodging and weaving through people to get back to you. “Just haven’t updated it yet.” That’s great.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. That’s too bad.” He agreed, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing toward the direction you’d come from.

“It’s the night after the gift exchange at work, so maybe I’ll just stay at home and watch it. Some streaming platform’s gotta have it on there, right?”

“Right.” Stepping closer to him to avoid a teenager on a motorized elephant racing their friend - who was riding a panda - you groaned. “Those things are the worst damn addition to the mall. It’s always a herd of them zooming down the aisle.”

“I always hope the batteries die.” He leaned in, turning his head so that he could talk into your ear. “Them scattered everywhere is still less in the way than people riding them around.” He was right, and you shivered at the way his low voice sounded in your ear, the end of his confession lifting slightly into a laugh. It felt right to be joking around with Tim, both of you quick to catch onto each other’s quips and moods. It’s almost too easy.

Neither of you said anything else until you were back at the car, Tim opening the trunk so that he could put his bags inside. “Did you think more about dinner? We should probably decide before we pull out of the parking lot.”

“We should.” He leaned forward, eyes locked with yours. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” You crossed your arms. “Of course I do.”

Tim stared at you for a few seconds without blinking and then he closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Ok. Good. Get in.” He opened his eyes and then winked at you before arching a brow. “That alright?”

It was more than alright. I don’t think he even knows hes flirting. “I’ll let you know after we get there.” Instead of giving you a verbal reply, Tim tapped one hand on the top of his car and licked his lips again, turning toward the door.

But I definitely do.

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #detective tim rockford #christmas story #hallmark christmas 2024 #to: you from: santa #tim rockford masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #writing #merge mansion #merge mansion fic #part 1

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florisa6s · 1 year ago

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A idea- Birdflash/Jayroy/Timkon

I feel like Damian has the worst luck seeing all his brothers boyfriends getting kissed by this man...Santa Claus.

I imagine Damian going to see his brothers only to see each of their lovers getting kissed by Santa (aka his brothers) and he's been feeling guilty for not telling his brothers that their significant other is cheating.

Until one day Santa visited the manor while everyone was there and he just blurts out when he sees Jon talking to "Santa"

------

Damian: Get Away From That Fiend!

Jon: what why?

Dick: yeah don't you like Santa little D?

Damian: No I do not! I'm sorry Grayson... Drake, Todd I'm not as sorry as I am to Grayson but I've got to tell someone about this.... Your significant others....cheated on you!

Roy, Wally, Kon, Dick, Jason, Tim: WHAT!

Damian: yes it's true...this fiend 'Claus' has been kissing your Lovers! He is a horrible creature snatching people's significant others! That's why I hate him!

Jason: oh...thank goodness it was only Santa Claus for a second I thought I would have to kill someone

Tim: wait you think that was...

Dick: oh little D that wasn't-

Wally: wasn't what Dick? That was totally Santa Claus...roll with it Jon and Damian still thinks Santa is real!

Damian: and that's also why you are no longer allowed to be near that monster Jonathan.

Jon: Santa kissed everyone? What about my mom?

Damian: yeah he probably got to her too for now on you must stay with me until Christmas is over!

Tim: Damian I don't think-

Kon: shush...let them have their fun

#dc prompt #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #jon kent #batman #roy harper #kon el #wally west #birdflash #jayroy #timkon

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intimidating-fettuccine · 1 year ago

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Christmas at the Mansion (+ the castle)

I'm posting this now because I leave for a trip for the holidays tomorrow (and I don't know how my schedule will be), although I also have an old holiday scenario queued up for Christmas day :) If you celebrate anything, Happy Holidays, and if not, have a nice end of the year! I'll still be around to answer questions and post quotes and stuff at the very least.

Like with Thanksgiving, first and foremost, Slender is cooking and baking a fuck ton of food. But, he's got a lot more company in the kitchen this time as LJ, Candy, and Jason are all making a whole bunch of candy and cakes and other desserts as it's their time to shine. LJ actually has his own candy-pulling hook, and he makes homemade candy canes for everyone in whatever flavors they might want that year (they usually vote on them and he'll make a few batches), and everyone snacks on them while waiting for dinner to be ready.

I think they probably do Secret Santa in the mansion because there are just so many of them, and if they want to get an extra gift for specific people they're allowed to do that too, although those gifs are usually exchanged privately, although Slender gets at least one gift for every resident. They all get up early in the morning, and Slender will make a big yummy breakfast with pancakes, homemade cinnamon rolls, and hot chocolate for everyone, and they'll sit around the giant tree and exchange all the Secret Santa gifts. Some years they might do themes, but most of the time they just all try and get something that they think their person will enjoy. After they exchange those gifts, if anyone got an extra gift for specific people they usually pair off and exchange those.

After the gift exchange, it's Christmas movie time. They'll go into the big living room and they take turns picking Christmas movies to pass the time while Slender is making Christmas dinner. Everyone snuggles up with their hot chocolate and just relaxes, telling jokes and funny stories while they watch Christmas movies they grew up on, and it's fun for the creeps that were/are human to show movies to the demonic residents who haven't seen them yet. For lunch, Slender will usually have Tim prepare some food for everyone, and by that time the candy canes are usually ready so everyone snacks on those as well.

By the time dinner is ready everyone's excited and rushing into the dining room to have Slender's famous Christmas feast. Slender usually has his brothers and his mom over for Christmas dinner, Toby invites his mom over, and Natalie invites her younger brother. Everyone is happy to be surrounded by the family they love, especially since Mrs. Rogers and Slender's mom always bring extra dishes that taste so fucking good. It's one of the most lively dinners in the mansion because everyone's bantering and sharing stories about each other, and the room always fills with laughter and smiles. I think Slender's mom would probably also get gifts for all of the residents (and the extra guests) too, and she'd share them after dinner was over. After dinner, everyone normally just hangs out and plays video games or board games, especially if someone got a new one for Christmas, and they'll just spend time together laughing and having fun until everyone gets too tired to stay awake anymore.

On the other side of the Underworld, Zalgo also tries to have a Christmas for his employees as well. He and the best cooks of his employees will prepare a gigantic, lavish feast for all of the workers that reside in the castle, and they'll all eat together in the large dining room in the castle meant to fit all of them. Zalgo also takes care to provide a gift for all of his employees, and while he has well close to 100 including his castle and the employees of his assassination company, he makes sure to get them a gift they'll honestly enjoy. Of course, they always get him gifts as well, even if he tells them that he doesn't need them, but the blush and shy smile on his face at their generosity makes it worth it for them to do so. Zalgo will have to return to some work eventually, but he does his best to provide a good holiday to his workers, as he feels they deserve it for all of the hard work that they do.

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peppermintmagicianlynn · 9 days ago

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TimBer Week 2024: Gifts from In-Laws

TimBer Week 2024 Day #2: Gifts from the In-Laws

“Personal opinion: a song like Santa Baby has some pretty obvious connotations to it; everyone knows. It’s not a secret. So if you’re trying to do a male version of it but you wimp out on the gay energy, you shouldn’t have been trying.”

“Bernard!”

“I’m just saying! If he wants to try and call Santa ‘buddy’ and act like he’s a very rich friend into a sugar daddy, the word ‘coward’ is going to be thrown around. Even if that man does have a voice to die for.”

“Seconded!” Stephanie declared, raising her hand to high-five her fellow blond. Barbra also threw in her two-cents which got an outraged look from Dick.

Tim facepalmed at the entire conversation and decided he needed to get away before he was asked to weigh in on any part of it. He made a hasty retreat from the living room, leaving his boyfriend and siblings behind to find a less mortifying place to hide.

The kitchen was his best bet. Bruce and Kate were holding a conversation there while Alfred cleaned up the dishes from their Christmas Eve dinner. Everyone had worked like crazy this year to be sure they’d spend at least today together and somehow, they’d made it work. What made it even better: Tim got to bring Bernard along this year, their third Christmas together but he first with him openly in the know about their family secret.

Bruce let Tim take his seat at the kitchen island as he stood up to refill his cocoa mug. Tim asked for some as well, wanting to bring it out to Bernard. This got him a soft look from Bruce that made him blush before his father turned to take two more mugs down from the cabinet.

“How are the kids doing out there?” Kate asked, setting her drink down to grin at his face. “Is Bernard not getting along with the group, or is he getting along too well?”

Tim groaned in exasperation, which earned him a teasing pat on the back from his aunt. But after a pause, he admitted honestly, “It’s actually going surprising well. They’re having a lot of fun together which I figured they would because God knows they’re all crazy. But he already fits in so well with them. With us.” He couldn’t contain the relief that took over his voice and forced a smile to his lips. “I’m really glad.”

Kate’s grinned, happy for him. “That’s great, Tim.”

He nodded. And since he felt a little more comfortable, he had a question for his more experienced aunt. “So, in your opinion, how many Christmas presents are an appropriate amount for a situation like this? Because I kind of panic-bought a bunch of stuff last month and I wasn’t sure what he would want, so I was thinking I could just…”

She cut him off with a sigh. “Like father, like son”.

Between holiday movies, Dick suddenly declared it was time for presents. As was a tradition started in his first years as Bruce’s ward and well into Jason’s arrival on the rare occasions Dick would be in the manor. Dick got to pick when the presents were opened but Jason could pick who opened them in what order. Their biases had caused more than a few tussles each year, but that was fine. Childish moments like these made family events normal and fun.

They passed down the line of people, revealing gags gifts but also some truly sentimental ones. On Bernard’s turn, he opened the singular gift Tim had left under the tree (the others were hidden away in the in-home gym) and gave his boyfriend a playfully exasperated look at the WayneTech laptop. “You have a problem, babe.”

“How could you say that?” Tim demanded, trying to look as innocent as possible. “You said you needed a new one before the next school term. I was just looking out for your academic success.”

“Right. And this has nothing at all to do with the dirty looks you kept shooting my old model, or the ads for computers that were popping up on your desktop.”

“Complete coincidence.”

The blond snorted, not buying that for a second. Despite that, he cupped Tim’s cheek and pulled him in for a quick peck on the lips. Tim hooked pressed into it, turning it to a proper kiss while ignoring the jeers of his family for the PDA. They pulled apart soon enough and turned to see who would next be given a present, when Duke passed a box their way.

“Another to Bernard.”

Bernard sent Tim an actually exasperated look but the raven-haired man shook his hands. “This one isn’t from me. I swear.”

“It’s from…Bruce?” Bernard gawked at the gift tag before both boys turned to the patriarch. Bruce gave a nod, wearing a contained smile that meant he was up to something. Bernard looked down at the professionally-wrapped box, tension rolling off his shoulders, until Tim reached over to rip the paper down the middle. His boyfriend squawked in outrage, which earned laughter from the other bats. But it did get him over his nerves enough to pulled away the paper and open the monogrammed box inside.

It was a dinner suit, from a high-end store in the Diamond District. “I heard that Condiment King ruined your clothes when he attacked at the Thanksgiving Gala,” Bruce explained, reading the terror in Bernard’s eyes. “So consider this my Thank-You gift, seeing as you helped direct the civilians to safety. It’s the least I can do.”

The pieces were made of a dark fabric but the jacket was embroidered with beautiful flowers that made it tastefully eye catching. Perfectly Bernard.

If this was a few years ago, Bernard might have keeled over at the very idea of accepting such an expensive gift. Tim was a little proud to see he’d gotten the other used to things like that. He definitely did not have a problem.

“Wow, thank you, Bruce,” Bernard said, his voice breathy with awe as put the box lid back on. “I’ll have to find a good time to try it out.”

“If I may, Mr. Dowd,” Alfred stepped forwards, pulling an envelop from his jacket, “I believe this might be just the place for such a garment.”

Th envelope passed from Tim to Bernard, though the vigilante looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he pulled out two tickets to the Gotham Theatre house. “Oh, that’s for that spring performance. The one Lisa Adder has a part in, right?"

Bernard’s excitement was palpable. “I’d haven’t seen her since Grieves closed, but I’d heard she’d gotten into this show. I wanted so much to see at least one of her performances. Thank you, Alfred!”

“It’s my pleasure, young man. Anything to support a love of the arts.”

Tim took both the suit and the tickets, setting them aside with Bernard’s new laptop. But by the time he turned back around, there was yet another present being handed over to his boyfriend.

And another. And several more.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” Bernard stuttered, unsure of what to do with all of this sudden attention. He looked over each wrapped box like it might contain a king’s treasure. Like he wasn’t worthy of all of it and much much more. “I didn’t…I’m not…”

“You are Tim’s person,” Cass said, stepping forwards to take his hand in hers. “You are a part of us now.”

“Geez, Cass,” Tim muttered, face blushing at her insinuation. She winked at her younger brother, then handed over the next gift for Bernard to unwrap. Jason made a noise of annoyance at his Order Decider rights being neglected, but he made no actual attempt to interrupt. The others leaned in to see what Bernard's next reaction would be.

Tim turned to Kate, lounging in one of the armchairs, flipping her dog-tags around on their necklace chain. She smiled back at him.

‘You knew,” Tim communicated with a squint of his eyebrows.

‘They wanted to surprise you too,’ she telegraphed back with a shrug.

Tim watched his family interact with his boyfriend, pulling him just a little more into their world. Showing him they cared.

He looked back at his aunt with a smile to say ‘Thanks.’ And was answered with a returning ‘Anytime.’

Tim wouldn’t be able to give Bernard the other Christmas gifts after this; his head would be spinning for weeks. But that was perfectly okay.

He’d just have to save them for Valentine’s Day.

---

I didn't have time to put in the other gifts, but be sure some of them were evidence of the bats' stalking habits. Bruce and Alfred can at least be subtle about it. Tim will act all defensive about that...mostly because they figured out gifts for Bernard that he hadn't even considered.

#tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #dc #robin #timber week 2024 #batfamily #batfam #kate kane #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #wayne family adventures #batman wfa

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ladamedusoif · 1 year ago

Text

Cookies (Tim Rockford X F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 26

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Word Count: 1455

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Established relationship (Reader is Tim’s wife); workplace sex; fingering; unprotected but safe PiV sex (Reader is on birth control); no use of Y/N; no physical descriptions of Reader; strong language; when we say “fuck the police” this is what we mean

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist!

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my work.

Tim kisses you on the cheek as he heads down to the precinct on Christmas Eve, overcoat in hand.

“I hate leaving you all, baby, but…”

You wrap him in a tight embrace and return his kiss. “Tim, you’re a good man. I’m sure Corinna appreciates you taking the Christmas Eve cover, so she can be at home for her baby’s first Christmas.”

Your husband’s ears pink up a little at your praise. “I guess. And older cops did it for us, too, when the kids were tiny.”

He looks over your shoulder into your mother’s kitchen, where your daughters are excitedly asking their grandma whether the Christmas cookies are cool enough to decorate. You turn and smile at the scene.

“I love you, Detective Rockford. We’ll save you some cookies. Come home safe.”

***

The cop at the front desk is thanking his lucky stars as he sips his umpteenth cup of filter coffee. It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and - other than a couple of minor call-outs for the guys out in the patrol car to break up bar fights - he hasn’t had to book a single person into the cells.

It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

And then the door buzzes. He sighs in exasperation and checks the CCTV. A woman, wearing a winter hat and carrying a tote bag. He presses the button to let her in.

“Hello there, ma’am. Now, I have to warn you, as it’s Christmas Eve we don’t have a full complement of officers in tonight and - oh! Hi there, Mrs R!”

You smile as you take off your hat and scarf, and hand him a small tin. “Hey, Bryan. Tim in his office?”

“Sure is. Hey, these some of your famous cookies?”

You’re already climbing the stairs to your husband’s office. “Maybe. Open it and see if Santa thinks you’ve been a good cop this year.”

***

Tim’s at his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up and tie slightly loose, flipping through some papers with his glasses on. The desk lamp bathes him in a warm light, highlighting his handsome features, and you pause for a moment to take him in before you knock on the door.

He looks up in surprise before a broad smile spreads across his face. “Hello there, miss. What brings you to the precinct on a Christmas Eve?”

You carefully close the door and turn the little lock on the handle, before pulling down the blind. You reach into your bag and produce another cookie tin, sauntering over to Tim’s desk and placing it in front of him.

“So, everyone was tucked up in bed at home, and would you believe it? I met Santa Claus, leaving gifts for the girls.”

Your husband chuckles and pulls you onto his lap. “That so?”

You nod. “The man himself. And you know what he said?”

Tim shakes his head, eyes twinkling. You lean in and kiss him softly.

“He said that Tim Rockford had been a particularly good boy this year, and he should get an extra special gift.”

Tim’s eyes turn to the cookie tin. “The cookies?”

You shrug, reach for the tin, and open the lid. “You could say that, I guess. They’re part of the gift.”

He bursts out laughing when he looks inside and takes out a gingerbread man perfectly decorated to resemble - well, him. White shirt, black pants, dark hair and moustache, tie, and even a pair of shoulder holsters.

“Your handiwork?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “Damn right. Why wouldn’t I make cookies that look like the most delicious man I know?”

He eyes you up suspiciously, but a smile plays on his lips. “You said the cookies were part of the gift.”

You stand up and move his paperwork out of the way, clearing enough space on the desk so that you can sit up on it. “The other part is under my coat.”

Tim’s eyes widen as he reaches for the buttons on your knee-length woollen coat, unbuttoning them eagerly and pulling the coat open.

His mouth falls open. “Holy fuck, baby.”

“You like what you see?” You fight against all the anxieties and insecurities that haunt you about your body, focusing on the look of astonished desire that’s burning in your husband’s eyes.

Tim’s eyes roam over you, taking in the dark red bra and matching, high-waisted panties trimmed in black lace, the sheer black stockings. He carefully eases off your coat and throws it to one side, running his big hands gently over the soft skin of your shoulders as he slips down the straps of your bra.

“I love what I see.” His voice is a rapt whisper.

He slips his hands to your back and waist and pulls you tight to him as he kisses you deeply, moaning as you twine your fingers through his dark, grey-streaked curls. You bring your hands to his belt buckle, working it open and undoing his pants so you can palm his cock, already hardening under your touch.

Tim brings his mouth to the side of your neck and begins to softly bite and lick the sensitive skin, working his way down to your breasts as one hand holds you in place while the other tugs aside the lacy fabric that covers your pussy. “I fucking love what I see,” he grunts, pulling down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts. “I love you. My sexy fucking wife.”

You whine as two thick fingers trail across your folds before settling on your clit, working it steadily in the way only he knows. “I’m going to get you good and wet for me, my love,” Tim murmurs, encouraging you to lift your hips so he can ease off your panties.

“Mmmm… and then what are you going to do to me, Detective?”

He slips his fingers into your cunt, pulling a delighted gasp from you. “And then, Mrs Rockford, I plan on fucking you hard right here on this desk. But only if you come for me first.”

A hook of his fingers and you’re squealing with pleasure as Tim spreads you out in front of him, standing between your thighs as you continue to stroke his dick. He fucks you over and over with his fingers, watching you writhe and buck as you near your climax.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours. “You look so beautiful like this, all spread out and ready to come on my fingers. Can’t fuckin’ believe you’re mine, sometimes.” Your pussy tightens around him and he knows you’re about to come.

“Tim…Tim, fuck, I’m - oh, fuck, baby.” He keeps fingering you through the orgasm, sucking on your nipples as he extends the wave of pleasure running through you.

You reach up and undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, hitching up his under vest so you can feel the soft, warm skin of his belly against yours as he pushes himself inside you and begins to fuck you. You hitch up your legs around his waist to hold Tim in place, slipping your hands under his shirt and gripping his broad shoulders firmly as he takes you on his desk.

“Feel good?”

“Fucking incredible, Tim - you?”

He leans his head against your chest and flicks his tongue over your nipple. “Baby, you always feel amazing but this - fuck, this is so fuckin’ good. Feels so tight and wet for me. Listen to that.”

For a moment the only sound in the office is the lewd wetness, skin on skin, and your pants and moans.

“Can’t believe you did this for me, baby,” Tim grunts, speeding up his rhythm and making you whine, arching your back. “Came down here in nothing but lingerie, ready to fuck me…fuck, you’re incredible.”

You giggle a little. “Got lonely at home, my love. Needed to have my man.”

Tim’s faltering rhythm tells you he’s nearly there as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You’ve got him, baby. All yours. All…”

And he’s there, spilling inside you as he collapses on your chest.

***

Cleaned up but still a little dishevelled, you sit on the floor of the office and eat some of the cookies, accompanied by weak coffee.

In the distance, you can hear chimes signalling the hour.

“Hey. It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Detective Rockford.”

Tim kisses you, tasting of ginger and sugar and spice and all things nice.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Rockford. And thank you for my extra-special gift.”

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford smut #detective tim rockford #merge mansion #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days ago

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The Best Present

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!(implied cop)!reader

Summary: You want to ask Tim to be your date to a Christmas party, but he's going with another woman. When you're caught under the mistletoe together, you give Tim more than a present.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, brief angst. 1.2k+ words

“Tim!” you call as you exit the locker room. When he stops and turns toward you, you smile and ask, “Can we talk?”

Tim begins to nod but is interrupted by Angela reminding everyone of the Evers-Lopez Christmas party tonight. As she tells the surrounding officers about the gift exchange, food, and fun she and Wesley have planned, your eyes stray to Tim. It has taken over a week to convince yourself it isn’t a terrible idea, and now you’re ready to ask Tim to go with you to the party. Your fingers tap nervously against your hip, though you’re oblivious to Tim’s repeated glances at you.

“Who’s bringing a date?” Angela inquires. “I need to make sure we have enough food.”

“And mistletoe?” Nyla guesses.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Angela deflects. “Dates? Timothy?”

“Yeah, I’m bringing someone,” Tim answers.

Angela’s jaw drops as you and everyone else swing your head to look wide-eyed at him. She had been kidding when she called him out specifically and certainly didn’t expect him to say he had a date. Tim says her name and where they met, but you can’t hear anything over your heart pounding and a week’s worth of doubts swirling.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Tim remembers as the surprise diminishes and people begin leaving the station.

“Yeah…” you answer. “It can wait, though. Enjoy your date.”

You could’ve still asked him or told him the truth of what you wanted to talk about, but it’s easier this way. You’ll be at the same party. Tim with his date and you with what’s left of your Christmas cheer and a heart crushed like peppermint.

Tucked into a corner with one of Lucy’s Christmas cookies, you watch the party from a safe distance. Tim’s date is gorgeous, as you expected, and you fight to keep your attention away from them.

“Hey,” Lucy greets as she approaches your safe haven. You send her a close-lipped smile, and she lays her hand on your shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing worth talking about,” you say. “These cookies are amazing by the way. Peppery ginger snaps, who knew?”

“My aunt. But, seriously, if you decide you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“I do. Go enjoy the party.”

“As long as you do, too. I’m getting your gift during Dirty Santa and if Tim even thinks about stealing it, I’ll tell Angela about his bad attitude last week.”

“I think I’d like to see that.”

Lucy sends you a heart with her hands, and you finish the last bite of your cookie. Walking through Angela’s house to either get another or throw away your plate (you’ll decide when you get there), you keep your eyes down until your shoulder bumps into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking up.

“You’re on a mission,” Tim muses. “There’s no more cookies, but if you’re nice to Nyla, she might tell you where she’s hiding them.”

“I could just get something else,” you murmur, thinking it would be easier to get someone else, but you want Tim.

“Uh, guys?” Nolan interrupts. “You’re under the mistletoe.”

Tim tips his head back and spots the green leaves hanging sneakily above a doorframe. You shake your head at Nolan, but he waves Angela over despite your protests.

“It’s tradition!” she argues. “You have to!”

“Yes!” Lucy agrees when she realizes where you are. “Kiss!”

Several of your friends cheer, and you shake your head again.

“Don’t be such a Scrooge!” Lucy tells Tim.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Tim complains.

“Tim, you’re here with a date,” you remind him softly.

Tim clicks his tongue, then raises his hands to the sides of your neck and jaw. “We have no choice,” he points out.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you lean in and kiss Tim. The noise of the party fades as you grip Tim’s waist and move with him. When Tim pulls back, you notice that the crowd beside you has dissipated.

“Where’s, uh…” you begin.

“My date?” Tim guesses with a barely contained smile.

“Yeah.”

“She left ten minutes in, decided this wasn’t her scene – her words.”

“How is a Christmas party not someone’s scene?”

Tim shrugs, and you apologize for his bad date.

“It worked out,” Tim replies.

“Gift time!” Angela yells from the living room.

You find a place on a small loveseat by Tim and watch as the white elephant gift exchange begins. After the moment beneath the mistletoe, a feeling of magic lingers within you. You must tell Tim about your feelings for this to go beyond Christmas.

“Don’t get attached to that,” Nolan says as Wesley opens an expensive tool set.

Laying your head on Tim’s shoulder, you don’t feel him freeze beneath you. He watches you laugh with his friends, content in an environment – his environment – when his date couldn’t even tolerate walking past the cookie table. As Tim relaxes, welcoming you into his space, and feels the same warmness he had while kissing you, he unknowingly gives you his heart. You give him yours in return, and it’s the best gift exchange you’ve ever participated in.

Lucy opens your gift and squeals before tucking it under her sweater.

“I’m stealing that, so make it a little easier to get to,” Tim warns her.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Angela, Tim yelled at me last week.”

“She can’t save you now,” Tim tells Lucy. “I need that one.”

“Why?” Angela asks, raising her eyebrows as she glances toward you.

“You’re a detective, Lopez, figure it out.”

“Let me give you a ride home?” Tim asks in your ear.

You nod and accept his hand as you stand. After receiving hugs and gifts from a few friends, you follow Tim outside, and a soft white powder falls from above to greet you.

“Is that what I think it is?” Tim whispers.

Extending your hand, you catch some on your fingers and raise it to your nose. “Only if you think it’s powdered sugar.”

“Chen!” Tim barks. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Lucy asks from behind him. “Is that snow?”

“It’s close enough!” Nyla answers.

“Nyla?” you ask, stepping out into the powdered sugar snow. “Wade?!”

Tim follows you onto the walkway. His eyes widen when he sees his watch commander perched on the roof and spreading fake snow through a sieve.

“Act like I’m not here,” James adds, pouring more sugar into his shaker.

Nyla rolls her eyes and looks at Tim to demand, “Just kiss her again and put us out of our misery before New Year’s.”

You don’t have time to question her command before Tim pulls you in. The door clicks closed as you taste the powdered sugar on Tim’s lips, and you smile against him as the fine confectioner’s treat covers your clothing.

“I was going to ask you to come with me,” you admit, leaning your forehead against Tim’s as his arms wrap around your waist. “Like a date.”

“Raincheck for New Year’s Eve?” Tim suggests.

“Will it be like this?”

“I hope not.”

Nyla scoffs, but you kiss Tim in the makeshift winter wonderland rather than replying. You have been in love with Tim Bradford for longer than the duration of this party, but learning that he loves you too is a Christmas present that will never be topped.

#fluentmoviequoter hot cocoa bar🧤❄️🎄#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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butcherlarry · 1 year ago

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Weekly Fic Rec 47

I'M BACK! I hope everyone had a Happy Holiday and a lovely New Year :) I think this might be my longest fic rec list yet! Enjoy everyone!

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manon + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam - Batfam, complete. Part of the Settle Our Bones series. Tim joins the batfam early. I'm pretty sure I've read this fic before, but I really enjoyed it. It was nice to read while I was on break.

Rail-Splitter, Brain-Splitter by motleyfam - Batfam, complete. Part of the same series as above. Dick, Jason, and Tim go on an outing together and Dick gets a killer migraine. Hurt/Comfort ensues.

locked in, locked out by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. Bruce gets stuck in a dating simulator. Shenanigans ensue.

Reborn as a scum villain in a novel by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, wip. Bruce dies and is transmigrated into the scum villain character in a novel. Shenanigans ensue.

Steady hands (ragged breathing) by loosingletters - Batfam, wip. Instead of growing up as rich heir to the Wayne family, he grows up as Bruce Kane, bastard child of Thomas Wayne, in the Narrows. Don't worry, he still becomes Batman :)

My Thanks to Ms. Monroe by loosingletters - Batfam, complete. Domestic abuse. Janet and Tim leave Jack. They go to Bruce for help.

everybody talks, everybody talks by fantalaimon - Superbat & Batfam, complete. Clark and Dick start a Bruce support group with other batfam and loved ones. Bruce finds out, feels ensue.

I saw dad kiss Santa Claus by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat & Batfam, complete. Clark dresses up as Santa and kisses Bruce. The kids catch them in the act.

A kindred bond by Nyszu - Superbat, wip. Bruce gets kidnapped by an evil Superman, but is rescued by his Superman. I might have done a happy dance when I saw this fic update again :D :D :D

anything in your life more wonderful by januariat - Timkon, complete. A lovely, smutty Timkon fic :)))))

slow dancing in the dark by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. Omg, I loved this fic SO MUCH. I remember one of the updates happened when I was driving 10+ hours to my parents for the holidays. It was a nice little treat to read at the end of the day to decompress :) Anyway, Bruce and Clark get temporary amnesia, sleep together, get there memories back, but continue to sleep together as a "Friends with Benefits" thing. These fails when they both catch feelings for each other. Shenanigans ensue.

Sure on this shining night by mediant - Superfam, complete. Kara tries to recreate a Kryptonian dish for one of their holidays. It fails, but she gets some help from Martha, as well as some bonding time with Clark and Kon.

flash in the pan by shipyrds - Superbat, complete. Another fic where the whole "Friends with Benefits" thing fails miserably. Clark and Bruce get caught in there civilian personas making out at a gala. They try to do some damage control by fake dating and then an eventual break-up. Feelings ensue.

everybody says shipyrds - Superbat, complete. Bruce gets kidnapped by some aliens that say he's Superman's soulmate, and they want to use him as leverage to get Superman's help. The whole soulmate thing is news to Bruce. Shenanigans ensue.

Place we were made by loosingletters - Batfam, complete. An interesting take on Omegaverse! Omegas can claim territory, so Bruce (an omega) as Batman claims all of Gotham as his territory. Shenanigans ensue.

a diamond sky by TheResurrectionist - Pennywaynes, complete. Pennywaynes my B E L O V E D. From a room full of coral series. A look at Alfred, Thomas, and Martha's relationship in an omegaverse setting.

'Cause Heaven Only Knows by loosingletters, papered_king - Batfam, complete. NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JA-

glitter & silk by sparkycap - Batfam, complete. A newly adopted Jason meets some of Bruce's friends after a night out as "Brucie". A neat fic about Bruce being bisexual, hanging out with some lady friends (painting his nails! love!!), and comforting Jason.

So Sweet Saluteth Me by Lishalalalalala - Batfam, complete. A sleep deprived Jason hangs out with Dick and they go to a farmers market. The sleep deprivation is why Jason agrees with Dick to take lunch to Bruce. Yeah, sure :)

bitty batty baby vigilante crew by deargalileo - Batfam, complete. BABY TIM AND STEPH AS VIGILANTES!!!! This causes some minor (major) stress for Batman.

Half in Love by timeturners - Superbat, wip. Another identity porn fic! I'll always read them, you can't stop me!!!

incendiary by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Fem Bruce tries to hide her feelings about Clark. This fails. Sexy shenanigans ensue.

Darkest Little Paradise by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, complete. It's New Years Eve! Bruce is lonely at a gala and Clark is alone in Metropolis, so they both need someone to kiss to bring in the New Years. Kissing happens, as well as other, lovely smutty things :)))))))))))))

i told you something safe by quidhitch - Superbat, complete. Batman and Superman get injured and pinned down in an explosion with Kryptonite. Clark almost dies. He deals with the realization that he almost dies and the emotions that come with it. Bruce helps.

hold on loosely by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, wip. A 5+1 fic! Five times the batkids get sick and benched and the one time it happens to Bruce.

10 times they slept together, and one time SLEPT TOGETHER by JarJarBlink182 - Superbat, complete. A 10+1 fic! I think the title speaks for itself :)

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. THIS FIC!!!!!!!! IT'S FINALLY COMPLETE!!!!!!!!!! If you haven't read it yet, PLEASE give it a read!! An identity porn fic where Clark becomes a fic writer to pay some bills. He writes for the ship Bruceman (Batman/Bruce). Bruce becomes a fan artist for the ship too. SO MUCH SHENANIGANS ENSUE.

The Brothers Wayne by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. Bruce Wayne and Wade Wilson (Deadpool) are brothers. NEED I SAY MORE????

Toes in the Sand by minnow_doodle_doo - Batfam, complete. Ngl, I was sobbing at the end of this fic, it was sooo gooood! A peak into the future, where Jason has kids and Bruce is a grandpa :)

Just A Little Bit... by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. What if Clark was a little more alien and Bruce (as well as Gotham) was a little more eldritch? The latest chapters have been A TREAT to read!!!

Patchwork Pod by KtKat9 - Superbat, wip. Mer Bruce fic! Connor is getting to know Clark and Mer Tim a bit more. Adorable sheep are involved :)

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions - Superbat, wip. The latest chapter of this identity porn fic almost had me on the floor laughing, omg. Robin stole the whole chapter for me, he was so ADORABLE and SASSY!

Emergency Contract by Elegitre - Batfam, complete. Tim lists Bruce, his next door neighbor, as his emergency contact, not expecting him to ever be contacted. GUESS WHAT HAPPENS???? :)))))))

a sky of honey by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, wip. More of the omegaverse Superbat fic that I have been OBSESSED about. Jason finally meets Superman. Unfortunately, he was not aware yet that Clark is Superman.

Happy reading!

#weekly fic recs #fic recs #fanfic recs #fanfiction recommendations #superbat #batfam #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman #batman

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glorified-red · 2 years ago

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Christmas Preparations

summary: The Manor was full of bustling activity as everyone helped decorate for the upcoming holiday. Damian invited you over to help, he didn't intend for what happened next.

word count: 2,530~

warnings: pure fluff, a small reference to Jason & Martha/Thomas Wayne's passing.

Merry Christmas! This is for the discord 2022 Secret Santa event as my gift to the wonderful @birdy-bat-writes hope you enjoy, my love :)

Check out the other Secret Santa Gifts!

@birdy-bat-writes

@unmotivatedwrit3r

@quillsareswords

@citrinesparkles

I have to thank @unmotivatedwrit3r for sitting on call with me to get me to actually finish this in time and sitting through me trying to figure out what word I was thinking of. They helped me plan out these head canons! that gave me some fun context to this fic. 10/10 go support them.

Christmas in the Manor was always a beautiful sight to see. Evergreens cascaded down every railing, accentuated with vibrant red ornaments and matching ribbons. Icicle lights were hung from every balcony as if snow itself made its way into the house. Wreaths, carefully adorned with their own lights and ribbons, lined each corridor to fill the hallways with warmth and light.

Bells chimed under doorways where mistletoe lay hidden. Traditionally decorated trees, with vibrant ornaments and bright lights, stood tall in almost every room. The grandest tree of all was the centerpiece of the great hall, tall enough to be touched from the balconies of the second story.

It was the iconic Wayne touch to every charity gala this time of year. Christmas could truly begin in Gotham once the star was placed atop that tree at the end of the Thanksgiving Speeches, where hundreds of people gathered to watch as the blindingly bright star was positioned just right. A toast and Christmas began.

But what truly made Christmas feel real, was up the staircases and into the den. A magnificent brick fireplace sparked to life in that room, shadows of red and orange spilled out of the room in the dark of night, welcoming every worn soul who wandered in. Just above the fireplace were seventeen stockings, all traditional red with gold embroidery spelling each name in swirly cursive. From Thomas and Martha all the way down to Alfred the Cat, each stocking was hung with care.

“It’s a lot more uniform then I thought it’d be,” Damian heard you comment from below him. He hummed in response from atop the ladder, feeling the plush fabric of the stocking under his fingertips as he hung each one.

“These stockings are purely for publicity’s sake, they aren’t our real ones.”

“They aren’t?” He reached for another brick hanger from your hand.

He lodged the metal onto the next brick over. “No, this is to keep nosy reporters happy.”

You snorted, he caught the edge of your smile when he turned around slightly to grab the next stocking, a smaller one that read “Titus”. He turned around to refocus. “Where are your real ones then?”

“In the cave,” he said simply, feeling as though it was absolutely normal for a family to have a separate set of stockings hidden underground. All personalized and barely matching, ranging from traditional red to eggplant purple to knitted white, they were home, all seventeen of them. With what started as Bruce and Alfred’s old stockings from Bruce’s childhood, slowly gained more traction as Dick entered the scene.

They couldn’t find a matching stocking, as the ones from before were old, worn, and used, so Dick found the closest he could: red with simple white embellishments. It couldn’t dream of matching the embroidered names on the older stockings, or the ribbon that tied around them, but it was his, he had a home. Then came Jason’s plaid, hung always, even when it was empty some years later.

Then Barbara’s fancy stocking, with plaid sections and embroidered designs. Tim’s knitted white and Steph’s vibrant purple followed soon after. That was the year Tim found the Mr. & Mrs. Wayne stockings that matched Bruce and Alfreds, the same color and swirly cursive.

Three stockings were empty that year.

Then Damian’s own velvet green, a dark emerald. That year came the four small stockings, plaid with the pet names written in Damian’s handwriting. Cass chose a midnight black, the stars of Gotham caught in the fabric with glittered thread. Duke who followed shortly after, with his white and filled with gold embellishments. And Selina, who flickered in and out before solidifying her place in the family with her own cozy stocking, cat and all.

They were clunky at best. Each year a new stocking was hung aside the rest but they all remained in age order on the cave walls. Some, for the members who picked them out at stuck young ages, had childish handwriting on its top. Others had stockings that matched their homes while for others, this was their first stocking ever.

Barely the same height or size, they looked slightly off, but they were always endearing.

It was a slice of normal in the chaos of this family, yet even the normal had the same cozy feeling of mayhem.

Even now, with the manor bustling with activity, it just seemed normal to Damian, the chaos of the holidays was something he’d grown used to. There was so much decorating to be done this week as the Wayne’s prepared for the biggest event of the year. All hands on deck as all of you scrambled around the manor to decorate every inch of the place.

Poor Alfred couldn’t decorate the entire place alone (as much as he wanted to), instead, he focused his efforts on creating the delicious dishes that would be catered at the event. Jason was more than happy to trade pie recipes while keeping Roy from raiding the pantry and Kori far from the oven. Wrapping paper was strewn across the floor of the Great Hall as the trio of Cass, Barbara, and Steph wrapped empty boxes to place under the tree, for a grand tree would look pitiful without its vibrant gifts underneath. The room was a mess and tape was caught on everyone’s feet, but the laughter filled the air.

Bruce and Selina were off hanging mistletoe and wreaths while Tim and his friends were up on the rooftop hanging lights—you didn’t know why that chaotic bundle of friends was allowed up there but you trusted the indestructibility of the Core Four helped. Dick and Wally were out on the lawn figuring out the tangled mess of lawn displays, and by that, you knew Dick was doing most of the work while Wally kept commenting about how much faster he could make this go. (“No powers outside the cave, KF.”) Somehow Duke ended up helping after that tangled mess got the two stuck together.

So here Damian was, with you, tasked with putting up the numerous fake trees in the main rooms of the manor only to get sidetracked when you found the gorgeous red stockings.

“Have you put the other stockings up yet?” you asked him. You held the ladder in place as Damian leaned over slightly to reach for the last stocking placement.

“Not yet,” Damian spoke, “I imagine they’ll be put up later tonight now that everyone is here.”

With the stocking box now empty, he climbed down from the ladder and collapsed it swiftly. He caught your eye when you picked up the empty box. “It sounds like fun. Do you have a tree down there, too?”

Damian took note of your smile, watching the fire light dance in your eyes. He blamed the warmth for why his hands felt so fidgety against the metal of the ladder. He turned away to put the ladder off to the side, diverting his attention to the unopened boxes.

“We do. It's abysmal, I don’t think a single tree should hold so many ornaments, especially when those ornaments are outdated. Father doesn’t admit it, but he is getting nauseatingly sentimental.” He heard you break down the box from behind him as he opened the long one that held the tree for this room.

“I think you just don’t want to see your old middle school photos printed onto ornaments,” you teased. You remembered the photos Dick showed you the second he found out Damian brought a friend over, far too happy for this kind of information. “You looked very adorable with your ruffled hair and scowl.”

“It was not supposed to be ruffled,” Damian retorted, “and I was scowling because I spent all morning perfecting my hair only for some imbecile to ruin it.”

Your laugh cut through his defense with ease, his shoulders relaxed slightly from their defensive position. “You say that, but you scowl all the time, Dames, even right now.” You poked his cheek with the butt-end of a box cutter.

He slapped it away and scowled even harder to spite you. Instead, you laughed, with crinkles around your eyes and vibrant fractals dancing across your pupils—he couldn’t keep the scowl on any longer, though he tried.

You both unpacked the parts of the tree and set to building it one section at a time. Damian paused when he held two branches.

“You’re building it wrong,” he noted.

Your head popped out from behind the tree, surrounded by tiny pieces of green plastic. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.” He held up the uneven lengths of green PVC. “This one is longer than the center part you already connected, this,” he lifted the section of tree in his hand for emphasis, “is supposed to go on first, then that one.”

Your eyebrows scrunched slightly and Damian hated how he noticed the tip of your nose moving in tandem. You cimbled out from inbetween the corner of the room and the tree to look at it from his perspective.

“Huh,” you said. He could hear the stumped consonants in your voice that made your confusion obvious. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

You bumped his shoulder hard. “Arrogant ass.”

Damian bit back a snort.

Four sections of spiky plastic and a million branches to unbend, Damian’s hands felt a million prickles in them. A sharp jab as opposed to the heat that radiated from the crackling fireplace beside him.

“Should we put tinsel on this tree like the one in the drawing room? Or focus on ornaments like the one we did in the dining hall?”

Damian turned around to see you holding up a silver garland of tinsel in one hand and a tube filled with colored ornaments in the other. His eyes flickered between them both but couldn't help the apathy he felt towards either option.

“You choose,” he settled on, the same answer he gave when you asked this question every other time you set up a tree.

You huffed, “You’re no help.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He busied his hands with the cord connected to the tree and its matching remote.

“You would end up choosing the one you preferred either way, it’s much simpler to let you choose from the start.” Plastic poked the sides of his body as he leaned through the branches to plug in the tree.

“I would not!” you scoffed, “I respect your decisions so long as you make the obviously correct one.”

Damian rolled his eyes, knowing that you could tell by his lack of response. When he leaned back out, he saw you had picked the tinsel. He looked at you with a bored expression. “You chose tinsel?”

“Yes?” you responded, as if you were offended he doubted you. You matched his judgment with your own easily. “I want to try the falling tinsel look.”

“Falling tinsel,” Damian repeated back slowly, not quite understanding your artistic vision.

You hummed, sure of yourself as you made your way to the tree. “Like this.” You plucked a few strands of tinsel from the garland and draped them over a single branch to make it look like the tinsel was similar to that of falling icicles.

The tinsel shifted as you shoved the garland towards him. “You try.”

“You want me to dismember the tinsel.”

“Don't be so morbid.” He watched you smile despite the roll to your eyes. “It’s not like the tinsel is sentient.”

“I suppose not.” Damian ripped a few strands off himself, feeling the aluminum coating soothe the earlier pricks on his hands. Together, you draped silver across as many branches as you could see, even the ones at the back of the tree despite Damian’s protests.

“You can’t even see it.”

“So?”

He let you work, holding the garland for you to reach as you squeezed behind the tree. Eventually, you stepped out as Damian picked up the tinsel that lined the floor. “I think it needs some ornaments,” you said softly, no doubt speaking to yourself.

Damian peered upwards at the tree and hummed in agreement. Soon enough, every other branch held up a sleek round ornament that shifted in the firelight, reflecting the soft glow of the room.

“Turn on the lights, Dames. I wanna see how it looks.”

He clicked the remote on and the tree bursted to life. Small bulbs of color illuminated the entire room with vibrant hues of Christmas. It was no doubt the best tree you’d done today, perfectly timed for it was also your last.

“It’s beautiful,” your voice was soft and full of wonder.

Damian’s eyes followed yours around the tree, remembering each tinsel that your hands placed so carefully and each ornament you debated placements for. He could see you in the creation of something so beautiful, purely because you had made it.

His eyes jumped to the top. “It’s not quite done yet.”

Your eyebrows scrunched in thought, it was a flicker of a movement before it smoothed out, but Damian saw it just in time before it slipped into obscurity. Slowly, a smile crept onto your lips. “The star! I almost forgot.”

The giddy and excitement in your voice was enough to rub off on Damian. His heart felt a flutter as his body filled with coziness. He watched from beside the tree as you dug for the topper from the boxes.

“Here it is,” you said, holding up the gold encrusted decoration, sparkles and diamonds covering the entire surface of the lavish item. “Put it up there,” you handed the star out to him.

Damian shook his head slightly. “You should do the honors.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Do you honestly think I could reach that high? You do it.”

And ruin the moment between you and your creation? “I’d rather not,” he said. “I’ll lift you.”

A soft snort escaped you. “There’s a ladder that’ll work just fine.”

“I already put it away. Just come on, unless you’re a coward?” Damian challenged, his arms stretched towards you that left very little room for you to argue. You shook your head, not surprised in the slightest. You slowly walked towards him with the topper secure in your hands.

Damian felt his heartbeat ring in his ears as his arms wrapped around your upper thighs. It only got louder as you balanced yourself with your hand on his shoulder, a whirlwind of annoying butterflies pattered against his lungs and chest. He looked up, breathless, as you reached for the top of the tree, much easier now that you could reach.

From here, he saw the stars in your eyes as the vibrant lights reflected onto your skin in small bursts of green, red, and yellow. Your smile was nearly as bright as the room around you both, with its fire and lights, Damian swore he could see the brightest star of all trapped in your happiness. The tree was no longer beautiful simply because you created it, it was a reflection of the beauty he saw in its creator.

And all at once, the world stopped.

Oh.

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

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