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gpcwsl · 10 days ago

Note

Leah and others are speeding because they're late to training, reader is police officer and stops her. Reader is a no nonsense officer and seems serious and intimidating, has many tattoos and is built. Whatever you want after that 🫶🏽

Leah Williamson x Cop!Reader

Speeding

WC: 783

MasterList

Warnings: Strong Language, Reckless Driving, Law Enforcement Interaction, Flirting with Authority Figures, Mentions of Kinks, Mild Betrayal, Humor & Shenanigans, short?

Song: Playing Dangerous - Blue Shore

Leah Williamson was already having a terrible morning.

Her alarm hadn’t gone off (or maybe she just slept through it, but she refused to take the blame for that). Alessia had been knocking on her door for what felt like hours, yelling about how they were already late. Kyra was waiting outside, arms crossed, looking like she was deciding whether to kill Leah or just let Rénne Slegers do it.

And now? Now she was speeding down the road, foot pressed a little too hard on the accelerator, because if they were late, they were dead.

“Leah, slow down!” Alessia snapped, gripping the handle above the door like her life depended on it.

“Yeah, mate, I’d rather be late than in a ditch,” Kyra added, bracing against the dashboard.

Leah scoffed. “We’re already late. I’m just trying to get us there before Rénne decides we’re bench material for the next five years.”

What she didn’t notice—because she was too busy being stubborn—was the police car parked on the side of the road. The blue and red lights flashed to life the second she sped past, and Leah’s stomach sank.

“Are you serious?” Alessia groaned.

“You absolute idiot,” Kyra muttered, sinking into her seat.

“Maybe they’re not pulling me over,” Leah said, but as soon as she did, the sirens blared.

“Pull. Over. Now,” Alessia ordered.

Leah let out the longest groan of her life, slamming her palm against the steering wheel as she slowed down and pulled onto the side of the road. She didn’t look at Kyra or Alessia, but she could feel their judgment.

“You’re so dumb,” Kyra said under her breath.

A firm knock on the driver’s side window made Leah jump.

“Roll it down,” came a voice—stern, no-nonsense.

Leah turned her head, and—okay, well, this was unexpected.

The officer standing outside was… intimidating, to say the least. Your arms were crossed, muscles straining against the sleeves of your uniform.

The tattoos covering your forearms were the kind that told stories—intricate designs Leah wanted to trace just to see where they led. Your sharp gaze flickered from her to the rest of the car’s occupants, and for a moment, Leah forgot she was in trouble.

“Window,” you repeated.

Leah scrambled to roll it down. “Good morning, officer,” she said, flashing a hopeful smile.

“Licence and registration,” you deadpanned.

Leah swallowed. “Uh, yeah, one sec.” She fumbled around for her wallet while Alessia and Kyra sat in complete silence, staring straight ahead like they wanted no part in this.

As Leah handed over her ID, she swore she saw the corner of your lip twitch, just slightly, before you schooled your expression back into something unreadable. You looked down at her licence, then back at her.

“You in a hurry, Miss Williamson?”

Leah cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’re late for training.”

“You do realise speeding isn’t going to make that better?”

“I do now,” Leah muttered.

You sighed, glancing over at Kyra and Alessia. “And you two?”

“Oh, we told her to slow down,” Kyra said immediately.

“Multiple times,” Alessia added.

Leah shot them a betrayed look. “Wow, thanks for the support.”

You handed her ID back. “I should be writing you a ticket.”

Leah winced. “But…?”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “But I’m giving you a warning. No ticket. This time.”

Leah blinked. “Oh. Wow. Thanks, officer.”

You didn’t reply, just gave her one last look—one that sent an annoying shiver down her spine—before turning on your heel and walking back to your car. Leah sat frozen for a second, watching the way your uniform pulled against your back as you walked away.

When you got into your cruiser and Leah was sure you weren’t about to change your mind, she started the car again and pulled back onto the road.

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“She was so hot,” Leah blurted.

Alessia groaned. “Leah—”

“I mean, did you see her? The tattoos? The arms? The voice? I think I just developed a cop kink.”

Kyra gagged. “Oh my god, please shut up.”

“She could’ve arrested me, and I would’ve thanked her,” Leah continued, eyes still wide, voice filled with far too much admiration.

“Leah,” Alessia warned.

“I would’ve asked her to frisk me.”

“I’m jumping out of the car,” Kyra announced.

“I’m so serious,” Leah went on. “I might start speeding in this area on purpose.”

Alessia shot her a glare. “You do that, and I’m telling Rénne.”

Leah gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Oh, I would.”

Leah sighed dramatically, finally falling silent.

For a moment, there was peace.

Then, under her breath—

“Bet she looks good in handcuffs.”

“Leah!”

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gpcwsl · 3 months ago

Text

Warnings: kissing, making out, suggestive.

(Thank you for who ever requested this. I lost the request )

Leah Williamson x Police!Reader

- Officer Charming -

MasterList

Leah Williamson had always prided herself on her calm, collected demeanor. Whether it was during her football days, facing down roaring stadiums and unforgiving opponents, or in her current life as a youth sports coach, she rarely let anything phase her. But all of that went out the window every time she saw you in uniform.

Your crisp navy-blue police uniform, the polished badge glinting on your chest, the confident stride—it all made Leah’s heart race in a way nothing else could. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone (yet), but she might have been developing a slight obsession with your job.

You first met Leah at a charity football match a year ago. The local police department had put together a team to play against retired professional players, and you had begrudgingly agreed to join. You weren’t much of a footballer, but you could at least kick a ball without embarrassing yourself.

Leah had been the opposing team’s captain, her natural charisma drawing attention even off the pitch. You had noticed her immediately—her sharp passes, her authoritative presence, and, later, her easy laughter during the post-match drinks at the pub.

“You’re not bad for a copper,” Leah teased, handing you a pint with a cheeky grin.

“And you’re not bad for a retired footballer,” you shot back, earning a mock-offended gasp from her.

The banter flowed effortlessly after that, and by the end of the night, you had exchanged numbers.

Fast forward a year, and the two of you were officially dating. Leah had adapted surprisingly well to your unpredictable hours and occasional late-night callouts. She even joked about the perks of dating a police officer, like always having someone to help her parallel park.

But there was one thing she hadn’t expected: how much she liked seeing you in uniform.

“Are you seriously just standing there staring?” you asked one morning, raising an eyebrow as you adjusted your utility belt.

Leah leaned against the kitchen counter, unabashed. “I can’t help it. You look… authoritative.”

You snorted. “I’m going to work, not a photoshoot.”

“That doesn’t make it any less distracting,” she said, her grin mischievous.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the flush creeping up your neck. Leah had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel electric.

One Friday night, Leah convinced you to join her and her friends for drinks at a local pub. It had been a rough week for you, and you were looking forward to unwinding.

Midway through the evening, one of Leah’s friends, Georgia, leaned over with a teasing smile. “Does Leah make you handcuff her for fun, or is that just a perk of the job?”

Leah nearly choked on her drink, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. You, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and played along.

“Only when she gets out of hand,” you said smoothly, earning a chorus of laughter from the table.

Leah shot you a mock glare. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Is that so?” you teased, leaning closer.

The banter continued, but later that night, as you walked Leah home, she tugged you to a stop outside her door.

“Do you actually have handcuffs with you right now?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

You smirked. “Leah Williamson, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” she said, pulling you closer by the collar of your jacket.

You didn’t need any more encouragement. Your lips met hers in a heated kiss, the tension of the evening bubbling over into a moment of pure connection. Her hands found their way to your shoulders, pulling you even closer as the world around you faded away.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Leah rested her forehead against yours, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Let’s just say I’m a fan of your job,” she murmured.

One afternoon, Leah decided to drop by the station to surprise you with lunch. She walked in, carrying a bag of your favorite takeaway, only to find you in the middle of interrogating a suspect.

She stood by the door, watching you work with a mixture of pride and amusement. Your no-nonsense tone, the way you commanded the room—it was mesmerizing.

When you finally finished and stepped out, she greeted you with a grin. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

You laughed, taking the bag from her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I wanted to see you in action,” she said, giving you a once-over. “And I wasn’t disappointed.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

Leah had always been a bit of a prankster, and one day, she decided to test your patience. She swiped your hat from the kitchen counter and put it on, striking a pose.

“How do I look?” she asked, her tone mock-serious.

“Like you’re about to get arrested,�� you replied, fighting back a laugh.

She grinned, stepping closer. “And what if I don’t go quietly?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Then I guess I’ll have to take you down myself.”

The tension between you crackled as Leah closed the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was equal parts playful and passionate.

“Careful, officer,” she murmured against your lips. “You might enjoy this too much.”

Leah had always been an excellent driver—at least, that’s what she claimed. But one day, while you were on patrol, you spotted a familiar silver car parked on a double yellow line outside a café.

You frowned, pulling up behind it. Sure enough, the license plate was unmistakable: Leah’s.

Shaking your head, you got out and strolled into the café, where Leah was seated by the window, happily sipping a latte. She froze mid-sip when she saw you in your uniform, your arms crossed and an unimpressed look on your face.

“Oh, hey, love,” she said with an innocent smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing your car outside on a double yellow,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Leah blinked, trying to feign ignorance. “Is that… illegal?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” you deadpanned, pulling out your notebook for effect.

“Wait, wait!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly. “You’re not actually going to write me a ticket, are you?”

You pretended to consider it. “Rules are rules, Leah.”

Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might.”

Leah narrowed her eyes, a playful glint replacing her initial panic. “Fine, but if you give me a ticket, I’m putting pineapple on your pizza for the rest of your life.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Leah grinned, stepping closer. “That’s what I thought, Officer Killjoy.”

Later that evening, you both recounted the story to your friends, who unanimously agreed that Leah deserved at least a warning.

Leah had always been curious about your work gear. One evening, after a long day, you came home to find her examining your handcuffs with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, kicking off your boots.

“Just… looking,” she replied innocently, holding the cuffs up. “These seem pretty sturdy.”

“They’re meant to be,” you said warily.

Leah smirked. “How do they work?”

You gave her a pointed look. “Don’t mess with them, Leah.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll arrest myself?” she teased, already fiddling with the mechanism.

Five seconds later, there was a loud click. Leah’s triumphant grin faded as she realized she had successfully cuffed one wrist to the kitchen chair.

“Uh… love?” she said, her voice suddenly sheepish.

You stifled a laugh as you walked over. “Did you seriously just handcuff yourself to a chair?”

“It was an accident!” she protested, tugging at the cuffs. “A little help, please?”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave you here for a bit.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, but her attempt to look intimidating was completely undermined by the chair dangling from her wrist.

After a few more moments of teasing, you finally unlocked the cuffs, shaking your head. “You’re a menace.”

Leah grinned, rubbing her wrist. “You still love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said, pulling her into a quick kiss.

Leah’s love for your uniform reached new heights when she discovered your old academy photos.

You were tidying up one weekend when she stumbled upon a framed picture of you in your cadet days. You had a clean-shaven look, your hat slightly too big for your head, and a proud but nervous smile.

“Oh my God,” Leah said, holding the photo up. “Is this you?”

You groaned, snatching it from her. “It was my first day at the academy. I look ridiculous.”

“You look adorable,” she said, trying to grab it back. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“Because I knew you’d never let it go,” you replied, tucking the photo into a drawer.

Leah crossed her arms, smirking. “I’m going to need you to recreate that look for me.”

“Absolutely not.”

But a week later, you came home to find Leah wearing a cheap police costume she’d bought online, complete with a toy badge and plastic cuffs.

“What do you think, Officer?” she asked, striking a dramatic pose.

You burst out laughing, doubling over as she tried to look serious. “That’s… that’s terrible,” you managed between laughs.

“Terribly accurate,” she quipped, tossing the toy cuffs at you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, pulling her into your arms.

“And you love it,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

One evening, as you were both cuddled on the couch, Leah turned to you with a mischievous look.

“If I ever got arrested for real, would you bail me out?”

You snorted. “Depends. What did you do?”

She pretended to think. “I don’t know, maybe I stole something… like your heart.”

You groaned, pushing her playfully. “That was awful.”

Leah laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “You love it.”

And, of course, you did.

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