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bloodyjuls-blog · 3 months ago

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NOTHING MUCH(Russo's sister X Leah Williamson)

Kay Russo had always been Alessia’s shadow. Since they were little girls, Alessia was the star of the family: the one who shined on the football field, the one who made her parents proud, the one who had a solid group of friends who seemed to want to crush anyone who didn’t fit into their perfect world. Kay, on the other hand, was “the other.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t talented; it just never seemed like enough.

As they grew up, the differences became more pronounced. Alessia had a clear path: Manchester United, the English national team, and eventually Arsenal. On the other hand, Kay was stuck in mediocre jobs and awful comments from her parents and sister. “Why can’t you be more like Alessia?” was a phrase she heard all too often.

The relationship between Kay and Alessia was tense, but the breaking point came one night, when Alessia, along with a group of her friends, began to make fun of Kay in front of everyone at a family gathering.

“And you, Kay?” “What have you been up to lately?” Alessia said with a venomous smile. “Did you find a job or are you still living off of mom and dad’s money?”

Laughter echoed around the room, and though Kay tried to keep her composure, she felt her stomach churn with shame. That night, locked in her room, Kay collapsed on her bed with her eyes filled with tears. She knew she had to change something in her life and escape that toxic dynamic. It was then that while surfing the internet, she saw an ad for the Royal Navy: “Find a purpose. Discover your potential. Join the Royal Navy.”

Kay didn’t think twice. She knew that enlisting was her ticket out, but she also knew that her family would never understand. So she made a drastic decision: she didn’t tell them anything. The following week, the recruitment process began.

A few weeks later, Kay received confirmation: she had been accepted. The date to report was marked on her calendar, and as it approached, she felt a mix of nerves and relief. One night before she left, she decided she should at least tell her family something, but not everything.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll be gone for a while,” she said over dinner.

Her mother looked up from her plate with disdain.

“On vacation? With what money?” she asked sarcastically.

Kay took a deep breath, trying not to lose her cool. “Never mind, I just wanted to let them know.”

Alessia laughed softly and murmured, “Always so mysterious.”

Kay gritted her teeth, finishing her meal in silence. That would be the last dinner she would share with them for a long time.

The day Kay left, she left home early, carrying a backpack and leaving behind a short note on the kitchen table: “I’m gone. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Take care of yourselves.”

The months that followed were a whirlwind. Basic training in the Royal Navy was brutal, but Kay held on to it with determination. Every physical exercise, every lesson, every grueling hour felt like a step toward freedom. Here she wasn't "Alessia's sister," she didn't have to endure her family's hurtful comments. Here she was simply Kay, someone trying hard to find her place.

After completing her training, Kay was given her first leave. She decided to return home, even though she knew it would be difficult.

When she arrived, the reception was cold. Alessia wasn’t even there; she was away on a trip with her team. Her parents barely showed any interest in hearing about her experience in the Navy.

“So what’s next?” her father asked in an indifferent tone. “Are you going to be here long?”

Kay felt the knot in her chest grow bigger. That night, as Alessia posted pictures on Instagram with her teammates, Kay sat alone in the backyard, wondering if she would ever truly belong in this family.

It was during one of those visits home that Kay met Leah Williamson. Alessia had invited some of her teammates over for dinner, and though Kay tried to stay out of the way, she couldn’t help but run into them. Leah was kind, something Kay hadn’t expected. They had a brief but meaningful conversation, and in that moment, Kay felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: connection.

Kay returned to her base after that brief visit home. The experience only reinforced what she already knew: her family would not change. But one thing remained in her mind: Leah Williamson. They had exchanged a few words over dinner, but there was something about her warmth, the way she seemed to see Kay as a person, and not as a shadow of Alessia. Leah didn’t know her, she was unprejudiced, and that made her different.

The day Kay had her first chance to visit London while on leave, she remembered that Leah was playing for Arsenal. She decided to take a chance and attend a match. It was strange to be surrounded by thousands of fans excited about something that, until recently, had been a source of insecurity for her: football and the shadow of her sister. Alessia was not on the team yet, which made the experience a little more bearable.

After the match, Leah, who had played spectacularly, was surrounded by fans and media. Kay watched her from a distance, trying to convince herself that she would simply leave without saying anything. But Leah saw her.

“Kay!” she called from the field, waving excitedly.

Kay froze for a moment before shyly approaching.

“What are you doing here babe?” Leah asked, clearly surprised but pleased.

Kay shrugged, trying not to look nervous. “I was in town and thought I’d come to watch the game.”

Leah smiled, and something in her expression made Kay feel less invisible. “I’m glad you came. Do you have plans now?”

Before she could stop herself, Kay shook her head. That night, they ended up having dinner together at a small, low-key restaurant near the stadium. It was the start of something unexpected.

As the months passed, Kay’s visits to London became more frequent. She always found an excuse to see her, and Leah seemed to enjoy her company as much as she enjoyed Leah’s. They talked about everything: life in the Navy, the challenges of being a professional soccer player, and, occasionally, Kay’s family struggles.

One night, as they walked through the quiet streets of London after dinner, Leah stopped and looked at her seriously.

“Kay, why don’t you ever talk about Alessia much? I know you are sisters, but you almost seem to avoid mentioning her.”

Kay looked at the ground, feeling her chest tighten. Talking about Alessia was like opening a wound that never healed.

“It’s complicated, Leah. I’ve always been… different to them. Alessia’s the star, the one who shines. I… I just exist on the periphery.”

Leah took her hand, an unexpected but comforting gesture. “That’s not fair, Kay. You shouldn’t feel that way.”

Kay looked up, surprised by Leah’s sincerity. It was at that moment that she knew this connection was something special.

As her relationship with Leah grew stronger, Kay knew there would be trouble sooner or later. Leah was a public figure, and although she hadn’t revealed details of her personal life to the world, speculation was constant. The Arsenal team was full of rumors about who Leah’s partner could be, but no one suspected Kay. Alessia, still playing in Manchester, had no idea that her younger sister was getting so close to one of her friends.

Kay also knew that her family wouldn’t approve of the relationship, not only because of who Leah was, but because the idea that she could have anything valuable in her life seemed inconceivable to them.

Everything changed when Kay received the news of a new deployment abroad. It was a high-risk mission, and although she was used to challenges, this time was different. Now she had something to lose. When she told Leah, the reaction was immediate.

“How long will you be gone honey?” Leah asked, trying to remain calm.

“I don’t know but it could be months.” Leah nodded and cuddled her, but Kay could see the worry in her eyes. That night, as they said goodbye, Leah hugged her tighter than usual.

“Just promise me you’ll come back, okay?”

Kay didn’t answer, because she knew that was a promise she couldn’t guarantee.

During deployment, Kay was severely wounded in an ambush. The bullet that hit her back damaged her spine, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. Doctors told her she would never walk again. The physical pain was immense, but the emotional blow was even worse.

When she was finally able to reach Leah from the military hospital, the conversation was brief but full of emotion.

“I’m alive,” was the first thing Kay said, her voice shaking.

Leah, on the other end of the line, let out a sigh of relief, but she couldn’t hide her worry. “What happened, Kay? Tell me the truth.”

Kay closed her eyes, feeling the tears begin to flow. “I’m in a wheelchair, Leah.” I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.

The silence on the other end of the line was painful, but when Leah finally spoke, her voice was firm. “I’m going to be with you, Kay. No matter what.”

Kay spent weeks in the military hospital, facing the reality of her condition. Doctors stabilized her, but the words she most feared hearing finally came: she would never walk again. She wasn’t ready to face it. Her life as she knew it had changed forever. The military, her only refuge, was also out of reach.

London became her next destination. The medical staff recommended that she be transferred to a civilian hospital where she could receive specialized treatment and subsequently begin the rehabilitation process. When Kay thought about where she could stay afterward, only one person came to mind: Leah.

Leah waited for Kay at Heathrow Airport, visibly worried. Even though she had received constant updates about her condition, seeing her in person would be an emotional challenge. When Kay appeared in the wheelchair, pushed by a hospital attendant, Leah felt her heart tighten in her chest.

Kay wore a stoic expression as if she was using all her strength to keep her emotions in check. Leah could see past that, though. Kay’s eyes, once full of life, now reflected exhaustion and pain.

“Hi my love" Kay said quietly as she came to her side.

Leah leaned in to hug her, ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of a crowded airport. It was a long hug, one they both needed.

“Welcome home baby,” Leah said softly leaning against her and kiss her deeply.

Kay wanted to correct her, reminding her that London wasn’t her home, but she couldn’t find the words. Maybe, after all, Leah was the closest thing she had to a home.

Leah’s London flat was cozy but small, and the modifications needed to accommodate the wheelchair made the space feel even more cramped. Leah had worked tirelessly to get everything ready, installing ramps and rearranging furniture. Kay felt grateful, but also deeply uncomfortable.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Le” Kay said as she scanned the space with difficulty.

Leah, who was making a cup of tea, turned to her with a calm smile. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone.”

Kay nodded, but inside, guilt and frustration were growing. She wasn’t used to depending on anyone, let alone someone as important to her as Leah.

The first few weeks were a mix of intense emotions. Kay tried to keep a routine, attending physical therapy sessions and learning to adjust to her new life. However, every little failure—not being able to reach something, needing help with simple tasks—felt like a monumental defeat.

One night, while Leah was cooking, Kay decided it was time to talk about what had happened at the military hospital. It was a weight she had carried alone for far too long.

“Leah, can you sit down for a moment?”

Leah stopped what she was doing and sat across from Kay in the living room. The concern on her face was evident.

“What’s wrong, Kay?”

Kay took a deep breath, her hands shaking slightly. “There’s something I need to tell you about what they did to me in the Navy before all the injuries happened.”

Leah nodded, her expression becoming more serious. “I’m listening.”

Kay began to speak, her voice shaky at first, but gaining strength as she went on. She told him about the treatments she’d endured: the electroshocks they justified as “experimental therapy,” the times they’d left her alone for hours without help, and the “rehab” sessions that often included pushing her physically to the limit.

“There were days I thought… I wasn’t going to get out of there. They yelled at me that I needed to be strong, that if I couldn’t take it, I didn’t deserve to be in the military.”

Leah clenched her fists as she listened, her face reflecting a mix of anger and sadness.

“How could they do that to you?” she finally asked, her voice cracking.

“It’s the price of being weak in their world, Leah. They couldn’t stand someone like me not being “useful” anymore.”

Leah leaned forward, taking Kay’s hands in hers. “Listen to me, Kay. What they did was inhumane, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

The tears Kay had been holding back finally began to fall. Leah didn’t say anything else, she held her, allowing her to release all the pain she had built up over the months.

Alessia’s arrival at Arsenal added a new layer of tension to Kay’s life. Although both had avoided any confrontation, Alessia’s passive-aggressive comments were quick to appear.

One afternoon, while Leah and Kay were at home, Alessia arrived unannounced. Leah had forgotten to lock her door, and Alessia walked in like she owned the place.

“So this is where you’re hiding, Kay?” Alessia said, with a sarcastic smile as she looked around the apartment.

Leah, who was in the kitchen, quickly came out upon hearing Alessia’s tone. “What are you doing here, Alessia?”

“I just wanted to see how my long-lost sister lived. It seems you’ve been busy… or should I say ‘well-kept’?”

Kay, who was in the living room, turned to face Alessia. “What do you want, Alessia?”

“I want to understand how you went from being a ghost to… this.” She pointed at Leah with a nod.

Leah, clearly upset, stepped in. “Alessia, if you come here to cause trouble, you can leave.”

The exchange escalated, and Kay felt old wounds reopening. Alessia had always known how to touch her weak spots, and Leah was caught in the middle. Eventually, Leah had to ask Alessia to leave, leaving Kay emotionally drained.

Despite the conflicts, the relationship between Kay and Leah continued to grow stronger. The emotional connection they shared was evident, and small displays of affection—a hand on the shoulder, an unexpected hug—began to evolve into something more.

One night, while watching a movie together, Leah leaned slightly toward Kay, resting her head on her shoulder. Kay, surprised at first, allowed the gesture and smiled.

It was a small moment of intimacy, but to Kay, it meant more than Leah could ever imagine.

Winter had come to the city, and with it, the streets of London were filled with Christmas lights and decorations. Kay, however, barely noticed the festivities. Her days were divided between physical therapy, medical adjustments, and increasingly intimate moments with Leah. However, the conflict with Alessia and the memories of the abuse at the military compound weighed on her like a constant shadow.

One morning, as Kay tried to adjust to the new exercise routine her physical therapist had recommended, Leah received an unexpected text from Alessia. She wanted to “talk.”

“Is it a good idea to give her space after what happened here?” Kay asked from her spot in the living room, as Leah checked the message.

Leah sighed, leaving her phone on the table. “I think it’s not just you, Kay. Alessia… she has issues to work out with herself.”

Kay raised an eyebrow. “Don’t justify what she does. She’s always found ways to make me feel like I’m worthless.” Leah walked over and knelt in front of Kay, placing her hands over hers. “No one has the right to make you feel that way. Not even Alessia.”

Kay wanted to believe her, but the years of emotional abuse she had endured were not easy to forget.

That afternoon, Leah went to Arsenal Stadium to meet Alessia after training. Alessia, who had been in a bad mood all day, was quick to spill the beans.

“What the hell are you doing with Kay?” Alessia asked bluntly as Leah closed the door to the meeting room.

Leah, trying to remain calm, replied, “I’m looking out for her. Something no one else is doing.”

“Looking out?” Alessia let out a sarcastic laugh. “Since when do you need to play savior?”

Leah frowned. “This isn’t a game, Alessia.” Kay has been through things that neither you nor I can imagine, and instead of supporting her, you--

“Don’t lecture me!” Alessia interrupted, slamming her hands on the table. “Kay has always been a burden. Every time I tried to stand out, she was there, ruining everything.”

Leah felt her patience wearing thin. “You know what ruins everything, Alessia? Your inability to see her as anything more than a reflection of your insecurities.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Alessia hadn’t expected such a direct response, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“This isn’t over, Leah,” she finally said, before leaving the room.

That night, Leah returned to the apartment emotionally drained. Kay noticed her expression and decided it was time to share something she had been holding back.

“What happened?” Kay asked as Leah plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Your sister… doesn’t understand anything,” Leah replied, massaging her temples.

Kay sighed and looked out the window. “It’s because she’s never seen me as her sister, Leah. I was always ‘the other Russo.’ The one with no talent. The one who didn’t fit in.”

Leah turned to her, surprised by the tone of vulnerability in her voice.

“You want to know why I joined the Royal Navy?” Kay asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Leah nodded, knowing Kay needed to vent.

“I saw an ad online while I was looking for a job. It seemed like a way to escape everything… from Alessia, from my family, from myself. I wanted to prove that I could do something for myself, something that no one could take away from me.”

Kay paused, her hands shaking as she recalled those days.

“But even then… it was never enough. And then… then came the hospital.”

Leah took her hand, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

Kay shook her head. “I need to. Because if I don’t, those things are going to keep haunting me.”

Then, Kay began to speak, detailing the horrors she had endured. She described the time when she had arrived at the hospital very badly injured thinking that what had happened was her fault, or that it was all karma for being fragile and not facing things, where she would rather a thousand times have her die than have a partner who had a family that loved him.

“There was a doctor… I will never forget her face.” She told me I was a failure, that someone in a wheelchair was nothing anymore, that I was wasting valuable Navy resources that could be used on soldiers who would go back into combat, I… I can’t take it anymore.” Kay paused, taking a deep breath.

Leah hugged her tightly, unable to hold back her tears. “God, Kay… I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

“I don’t want you to see me as a victim, Leah.” Kay rested her forehead on Leah’s shoulder. “I just want to be someone who deserves… something.”

“You deserve everything, Kay. And I’m here to remind you of that every day.”

Despite everything, Kay began to find small moments of peace in her life with Leah. They began to spend more time together, sharing stories and laughing despite the circumstances.

One night, as Leah read a book on the couch, Kay leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder. Leah smiled and set the book aside, putting an arm around Kay.

“You know?” —Leah said after a while. —I never thought I'd find someone I wanted to share so much with.

Kay looked up, surprised by the confession. —And me?

—You're that person, Kay. My person, my forever.

For the first time in a long time, Kay felt like maybe, just maybe, she had a place in the world where she truly belonged.

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #woso imagines #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #alessiarusso #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #woso one shot #woso imagine #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal x reader #lionesses x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago

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Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly! Part 2 Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: Tim recruits you to aid in a Metro op. When you ignore his direct orders, you dare him to arrest you, but you have a request.

Warnings: this is pure fluff and banter!! the song reference part is a teeny bit suggestive I guess, but it's completely clean/sfw as always!

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

cop cuties, cute and on duty. navy blue booties, go ahead and lock me up. arrest me, but make it sexy.

You’ve been a patrol cop since you completed your rookie training with Tim Bradford. Throughout the last few years of working alone, you’ve trusted him enough to ask for advice, offer to work for him and reach out when he was injured. Most cops don’t stay close to their TO, but Tim was always more than that. Somehow, against his will, you think, you and Tim became friends. He knew from the beginning of your training that you were going to be a great cop, which is why he decided to recruit you for a new job.

“Officer,” Tim greets as you walk into Wade’s office.

“Sergeant,” you reply. “I take it I’m here to see you and not be yelled at by Grey.”

“Why do you need to be yelled at?” Tim asks, raising his brows as he crosses his arms.

“Absolutely nothing, sir.”

“Sure. Metro is working a forgery operation, and we need an extra set of hands. I think you’re the right cop for this job.”

“You do?” you ask, suspicious of why he chose you over the hundreds of other choices.

“Yes. But you get to decide. Do you want to join the team and complete your first Metro op?”

“Yes, sir,” you agree. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“You still have to prove that I’m right,” Tim reminds you. “Gear up, we’re leaving in ten.”

You nod before you exit the office. Working with Tim is something that you’re used to, but not in a Metro team.

“Get to the corner,” Tim orders.

You stay in place, watching the forger. He’s in plain view, waiting for something and checking his watch every minute or so. That makes him dangerous and reckless. The overview that Tim gave you and the Metro squad at the station didn’t place the suspect outside of his studio.

“Corner, now,” Tim repeats.

“He’s outside,” you radio.

“And you’re not in position.”

You huff and move your hand off of your radio. There’s no chance of catching this guy if you move from your current position. Tim is still going off the original, incorrect intel. Not to mention, moving could spook him and ruin this operation.

Tim says your last name over the radio, and you wait for him to continue. “Get in position.”

“There’s no point,” you argue.

Tim radios for someone else to cover his position as he moves toward you. His approach is nearly silent, but as he squats beside you, you don’t look over at him.

“You have to follow my orders out here,” he reprimands quietly.

“Even if they’re stupid orders?” you reply without looking away from the suspect.

“That’s not your call. This isn’t rookie training where you get input because you’re learning. You do what I say or you’re off my team.”

“I understand that.”

“Then get in your position at the corner,” he orders again.

You don’t listen but remain quiet rather than argue with him again. Tim sighs beside you and clenches his jaw.

“Do you remember where you’re supposed to be?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

“Then get into that position and be ready for the next phase of this op.”

“No, Sergeant Bradford.”

Tim looks at the side of your face. He’s had enough of you acting like a partner who can argue with him. As much as he trusts you, you’re still his subordinate and this is unacceptable, especially in the middle of a Metro operation. Leading Metro is the most rewarding yet challenging position he has had as a cop, and he won’t let you compromise his position or the trust his team has in him.

“You know I can still make arrests, right?” Tim asks harshly.

You raise your brows and turn toward him to snap, “So, what; are you gonna arrest me? For what?”

“For disobeying direct orders! I can arrest you now and put you on desk duty and break room fridge refills for the rest of the month.”

You look back at the suspect before you stand. Tim follows your movement, and you lean toward him to push your finger against his chest.

As you crowd him, you dare, “Arrest me, Officer Bradford. But make it sexy.”

Tim looks between your eyes before he grabs your right shoulder. He spins you quickly and pushes you against the cinder block wall behind you. He wraps one hand around both of your wrists behind your back as his other hand rests against your hip, just above your holster.

“You want to say that again?” Tim asks.

“Not that I expect you to know what a real Degas looks like, Officer,” you taunt loudly, “but the gallery you just destroyed is worth more than your life!”

“What are you doing?” Tim whispers in your ear.

“Go with it,” you request.

“Excuse me!” the suspect calls as he approaches you and Tim. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m an art connoisseur, of sorts. What seems to be the problem?”

Tim pulls his handcuffs from his belt and puts them loosely around your wrists. He pulls you away from the wall and against his side as he turns to face the art forger.

“This woman is an art forger,” Tim answers. “So, unless you purchased a Degas painting from her, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“I fear that’s impossible,” the man replies. “Degas is nearly impossible to forge. The paint age and brush strokes are dead giveaways.”

“Spoken like a true enjoyer,” you say.

“Shut up,” Tim demands. “Sir, if you’d like to have your art checked by our experts, I’d be happy to make that call for you.”

You nod, a small movement you hope will make the man trust you. The art experts know his signature, so if they can get a look at his work, Tim’s work will be done, and another forger will be behind bars. The crime itself seems too white-collar for Tim’s skills, but a successful arrest is a successful arrest.

“I would appreciate that, Officer,” the man answers. “I can give you access to my collection now.”

Tim radios for the art experts waiting nearby to come in. He keeps a hand around your wrist, his pinky occasionally brushing between your skin and the metal cuff. After the experts enter the warehouse, it only takes two minutes before they radio to Tim that they have the evidence they need.

“You’re in luck, sir,” Tim tells the suspect. “Looks like the only forgeries in there are yours.”

Tim moves his hand from your wrist to your waist and pulls your handcuffs from your belt.

“You’re under arrest for art forgery, possession of stolen goods, and unlawful sale of property,” Tim says as he secures your handcuffs onto the suspect.

Another Metro officer rushes past you and takes the man from Tim to lead him to a waiting patrol car. Tim turns to face you and pulls a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket before he puts them on.

“You’re welcome,” you tell him.

“There are better ways to tell your superior officer that a different approach may be better,” he responds, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ignoring orders isn’t it.”

“You weren’t listening!”

“I listened at the end. You did well, but don’t ever do that again.”

You smile and step forward until you nearly hit Tim’s folded arms. “Scared I’ll take your job?”

“You are stubborn, uncompromising, and have no respect for authority,” Tim lists. “My position is safe from you.”

You tilt your head to the side and shrug. Tim radios a code 4, then walks away.

“Are you going to take these cuffs off?” you call after him.

Tim turns and stops a step away from you.

“You’re the one that wanted to be arrested,” he replies. He shrugs and asks, “Was that sexy enough?”

“I mean, yeah, it worked,” you answer. “But defying your orders got you the arrest, so…”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Tim begins.

He continues reciting your Miranda rights as he leads you to his car. His hand trails down your right arm as he puts you in the backseat. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, you realize that the handcuff on your right wrist is loose enough you can get your hand through.

“Defying direct orders is wrong,” you muse. “What if I start a verbal flirtation while you take me to your station?”

“I will arrest you,” Tim threatens.

“With what cuffs?” you ask, spinning his on your finger. “You gave yours away and took mine.”

Tim shakes his head and pulls over. He opens the back door, and you hand him his handcuffs as you climb out.

“If I had to get arrested, I’m glad it was with you,” you say before you round the back of the car to get in the passenger seat.

“I was considering mentioning you for a Metro promotion,” Tim begins as he drives back onto the road. “But after that stunt today…”

“You’ll never see me the same?” you guess.

Tim looks over at you, though you can’t see his eyes past his aviators.

“Something like that,” he murmurs.

“You liked it,” you accuse playfully. “Admit it.”

Tim adjusts his sunglasses and says, “Maybe.”

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

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tnsfrbc · 1 year ago

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Indian Navy Recruitment 2024 | Central Government Jobs 2024 Official Website:https://agniveernavy.cdac.in/

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romcomxdd · 9 months ago

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AU where Mav n Ice managed to convince Bradley not to join the Navy.

(stick with me there’s hangster in here i promise-)

Instead of pulling Bradley’s papers, Mav and Ice sat down with Bradley and explained his mother’s wishes and their concerns. Really, they just had an adult conversation about it. Of course, Bradley was pissed, but more so at his mum than Maverick or Ice. Eventually he agreed, much to the older men’s relief, though Mav did feel a bit guilty about it. He knew Goose would have loved to see his son take after him.

Bradley took a few weeks to explore some other career options, he knew he still wanted to fly in some capacity. With his dads all being pilots, he’d had plenty of off the book lessons from them and all his honorary uncles. He had a knack for it. And he knew he wanted to help people. He had volunteered at his local fire-station for a few years and had acquired his basic first aid qualifications through that. But beyond that, he was lost.

Until he heard about Wilderness EMT’s. It was at at a careers expo Ice had dragged him along to after school and he really didn’t want to be there.

They wandered the expo for a while, until the first responders area caught his eye. Bradley looked through the police and fire rescue stalls first, took some pamphlets and asked a few questions, but nothing really struck him.

As Ice wandered off to look at the Navy section out of curiosity, Bradley lined up to look at the Paramedics stall. As he talked to the lady at the front for a bit, they got onto the topic of the specifics of her career. Before she had taken a job in recruitment, she had been a Wilderness EMT, basically a branch on paramedics where she was trained in search and rescue, providing medical aid to remote areas. This immediately sparked Bradley’s interest, it had the adrenaline he had been looking for, all whilst making a real difference for real people.

By the time Ice had returned, he had quizzed the lady for almost an hour and to say that he was excited was an understatement. The teen was practically bouncing out of his seat on the drive home.

‘I just need to get my general EMT certification, then do a wilderness specific training course as the basics.’ Bradley was grinning ear from ear. ‘Then from there I can do swift water, high angle rescue training and disaster response training. And a bunch of other short courses- but I can do those quickly- And that’s not even the best part!’

Ice bit his lip and kept quiet. He was happy for Bradley, of course, it was nice to see him so excited about something, but this sounded dangerous. It wasn’t the Navy, but still.

‘She said I can finish getting my pilots license and use that for search and rescue. And if I can get my helicopter license I can still fly!’ He grinned. ‘And it’s not gonna be dangerous like your job, but it’s still so cool.’

Ice nodded, still worried, but Bradley seemed serious about this. They’d already stopped him from one career opportunity, if they told him he couldn’t do this, Bradley may never talk to them again.

And as it turned out, he was dead serious about it. Within three years, Bradley had flown through his Paramedics degree, and got a job as a regular EMT. Whilst he worked, he continued with his helicopter license, and began ticking off the required courses. Another two years later, he was a fully qualified Wilderness EMT.

It had taken a while for Mav to get on board with the idea, but after seeing the fufillment in Bradley’s face when he came home after saving a life, he could help the pride that flowed through him. Goose would have been over the moon.

Bradley quickly excelled at his job, showing just how disciplined he was, both in the field and with the patients. His bedside manner was impeccable and had an incredibly cool head under pressure. He progressed fast, becoming a team leader in no time. There wasn’t as much room for advancement as there was in the Navy, but Bradley did what he could.

He loved his job and though it had one of the highest burnout rates in the country, he couldn’t see himself quitting anytime soon. He lived for the adrenaline of his work. Every day was different, he could be providing help to flooded communities, or hiking mountains in search of a missing person. It could be anything from pulling someone from an avalanche, or airlifting someone who’d twisted an ankle and didn’t feel like walking out.

And the sense of satisfaction he got after saving a life. Made him feel like he was in control. Like he could make a meaningful difference in someone’s life by getting them home safe.

Of course there were hard days. When someone died in transit, or they just couldn’t get them out in time. When their missing person just didn’t turn up. It could be traumatising, but he made sure to talk with Ice and Mav about it, or his work friends, there were so many people around him who knew how to cope. He figured it out pretty fast.

One day Bradley’s team got called to a pretty notable rescue. An F18 had gone into a flatspin during training somewhere over a mountain and the pilot had ejected. A pilot by the name of Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Hangman had ejected safely, but the descent through the trees had fucked up his ankle, and he couldn’t walk.

The Navy’s equipment hadn’t been advanced enough, so they had called on the WEMT’s, whom for this kinda mission was their bread and butter. (shush i’m taking creative liberties)

They found him quickly and Bradley was the one to cut him out of his parachute and bring him up to the helicopter. Just imagine Jake being half unconscious as a handsome moustachioed angel leans over him and tells him everything’s gonna be alright.

The ride back included an ever exasperated Bradley and a lovestruck delirious Hangman who had decidedly not injured his mouth and would not shut up. As they reached the hospital, Jake asked him out. Bradley surprised even himself by agreeing to it, he hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years, it could be nice to get back out there.

They grew close, fast. Though Bradley never explained why he knew so much about Jake’s job. Not until Jake was finally invited around to ‘meet the parents’. Just imagine his surprise when he walks into the Admiral Kazansky’s home, who is apparently married to his instructor. Bradley thought the look on his face was hilarious and he would bring up the moment at any opportunity for the next few years.

#top gun #as an aspiring paramedic this was fun to write #definitely not accurate but OH WELL #i kinda gave up at the end #yeehaw #hangster #top gun au #paramedic au #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #top gun fandom #tassieshcs

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sillyhanako · 5 months ago

Text

❀．LET US SING THE SAILOR SONG ﹗

☆★ WINDBREAKER BOYS as pirates !! ft. umemiya hajime, akihiko nirei and sakura haruka 𖥔 ࣪ ˖

☆★ sfw. 496 WC ࣪ ˖

cw :: nothing crazy just umemiya being umemiya, profanities used in sakura's part, sakura and sugishita being on eachothers throats

☆★ notes :This was so much fun to make!! This was also inspired by the strawhats pirate crew roles!! So i cant be sure if the roles are 100% accurate to the real thing and for that im sorry 🙁 can you guest my mind was blank at sakura's part? 😭 sorry for sakura's content eaters 🙁🙁

. . .UMEMIYA HAJIME the captain // leader

pretty obvious one! Umemiya is super confident and positive, even when his ship is being chased by a whole bunch of navy ships. He goes from island to island, recruiting crew members from all over the place, no matter who they are.. (hiragis on life support) In his many adventures, he makes friends with all sorts of people. Some say that the Bofurin Pirates and the Shishitoren Pirates are extra close pals! Maybe even drinking buds?

He also has this little garden where he spends most of his time in, growing and caring for his vegetables and will go batshit if an attacker ruined it.

Hiragi : can you pass me the salt?

Umemiya : huh?? The what?

Hiragi : the salt.

Umemiya : HUH?

Hiragi : *long suffering sigh*

Hiragi : ...the ocean cocain?

Umemiya : Oh yeah sure

Umemiya : am i going too far??

Hiragi : No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now we're going to prison.

. . .AKIHIKO NIREI the navigator

At first, I wasn't sure if Nirei would be an archaeologist or the ship's navigator. But, I decided to make him the latter. As a member of the Bofurin Pirates, Nirei is responsible for guiding the ship and its course. Even though he just joined the crew, he will sometimes give orders when needed to keep the ship and the crew safe. Nirei is still getting used to having this job, but he's determined to do his best since Umemiya trusted him with the role!

Nirei's room is filled with a jumble of maps and charts of various islands he and the crew have visited. Did you know? that each map is accompanied by a collection of pictures and personal notes detailing unique features and characteristics of each locale?

Tsubakino : you're so sweet !! ><

Nirei : thank you i have abandonment issues

Nirei :i feel silly for admiting this but, im actually really nervous this is my first time on a shi-

Sakura :

WE'RE GONNA CRA

. . .SAKURA HARUKA the combatant

Due to Umemiya's empathetic nature and genuine respect for him, Sakura agreed to join him. His unflinching loyalty to Umemiya pushed him to persevere through even the most difficult situations. Sakura feels a strong desire to train diligently to protect both the ship and the crew, and would wipe out any threats, hes always striving to meet new rivals to horn his reflexes and learn new fighting styles.

Sakura is often spotted snoozing on deck, lounging with both Suo and Nirei (though he is reluctant to admit it), or simply relishing the delectable meals prepared by the ship's cook, Suzuri.

Sakura : im not passive-agressive. Im just aggressive. I dont even know what passive means. That doesnt make me stupid. I'll fucking kill you *unsheathes sword*

Nirei : you know what would be cool?

Sakura: what

Nirei : if we had a pet! pirates always have a pet of some sorts

Sakura : who needs a pet when sugishita is right here.

Sugishita : what did you say-

ー﹕m.list﹐

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pinkslaystation · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost of A Connection

Ghost and Staff!Reader

In which you work at the nearest store at base, Ghost being your least favourite and unfortunately, most frequent, customer. Is there a connection there, or is it in his head? yALL - all these COD stories on tumblr got me hyped! So here I am tryna catch some clout ;) Be warned, this is possibly a very inaccurate version of military life, but then again, it's just a story. Word Count: 2.5k

Man, post-graduate life is hard.

Graduating top of your cohort of nearly 300 students in your masters degree within Psychology was impressive. Saving enough money from shadowing your senior Psychology professor and moving out to your apartment was impressive. Owing your own car was impressive.

What wasn't impressive though, was nearly hitting the 6 month mark of unemployment.

So here you are, stuck calling all your classmates for any open roles. You're so desperate at this point, you'd go for anything!

"Hey, Mahir! I know we didn't quite end of good terms...um-you know...when you asked for the mid-terms answers last year, and I- um...left you on delivered, and you had to retake the exams...but um, I hear you started working at the University as a Researcher and you're looking for a assistant? Well gee, don't forget how smart I a-"

Disconnected.

"Yooo, Josephine, it's me! From the Psychopathology group project! Yeah, I'm sorry I shouted at you for not doing your part on the project, and filing a complaint against you, haha...although, like, come on, it's your fault - you're 25, not a 5 year old bab-"

Blocked.

Wow. You were not liked.

So one evening, when you were on the phone to your childhood friend, Jordan Biggs, and had managed to slip out how desperately broke you were, he kindly offered a potential role at his workplace.

"Shop keeper? What, like a convenience store?" Remind me where you work again? Aren't you in the navy? What stores are you talking about?" You rambled, I mean a possible job - finally?!

On the line, Jordan chuckles, "Slow your roll, man. I've been been with the army for around 3 years now, I'm currently on a mission but we'll be home soon. Our base has a shop, that sells, you know, tactical gear-"

"GUNS?!" You interrupted.

Jordan laughs, then in shushed by, what you assume to be his teammate, "No, not any weapons. Just, tactical gear, MREs, bits and pieces of uniform. Sometimes you might be asked to clean the base, set up rooms for meetings. And ooh my favourite - work at the canteen. We serve the country, you serve us food." Jordan explains.

So you complied.

I mean, yeah, your degree isn't being utilised, but we're in a cost of living crisis, for Christ's sake.

And here you are, clad in a plain dark grey fleece, and straight black trousers, trying to look as professional as possible.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your first day was silent. You found that you lived only 30 minutes away from the base, so you didn't struggle with the early shifts, working almost full days at the base, with a surprising decent salary.

You learnt you had replaced the previous worker, Katherine, a grumpy senior who quit, being fed up with the stench of these sweaty unkempt soldiers, and their rowdy behaviour after missions.

You also met your staff at the base, being the youngest one there gave you no surprise, with most your colleagues being double your age. You liked it. It was quiet, having met a few of the soldiers.

Your role was relatively simple. Consisting of various tasks such as ordering enough food to satisfy the recruits, more training equipment, when a recruit seemed to damage one. All in all, you were satisfied, especially when the first pay day rolled in.

You also noted that your colleagues, without fail, always seem to talk about a specific group of soldiers, such as Friday evening, when you all found yourself eating an early dinner.

"Soap is so sweet! He's always so generous when we talks to me, although I can't lie, I don't know what the fuck he says half the time." Your colleague rambles, shoving a spoon full of Friday's roast dinner into his mouth.

Another agreed, "Nothing beats the dilf of a man - Captain John Price. I may be chewing steak but that ain't the meat I want in my mouth, if you get what I mean-"

You choked, "Margaret, you're married with grand-kids, lord."

After a quiet but much needed conversation, you learnt about the most well-known team within the base, Task Force One-Four-One, lead by Captain John Price, forming of Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, and the one you were most curious about - Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

"But like, why Ghost? If he's close to this Soap dude, why not call yourself Shampoo or something?"

Your colleagues laughed at your naivety glancing at each other.

"My dear, I don't dare to call him anything other than Lieutenant. He's entered a 10 metre radius of mine, and I've already pissed myself." One stated.

"I've heard he threatened to attack Katherine, just because she overcharged him, long story short, she quit." Another replied.

It seemed you didn't understand how feared Ghost really was...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you all had finished dinner, the staff split up, some going back to the canteen to prepare dinners for the soldiers finishing training, some going to clean up the barracks, and you found yourself going back to your designated shop.

Aah, this is peaceful. You mumbled, drinking your hot chocolate, whilst sorting out all the army boots on display.

As the clock strikes 10 p.m. though, the silence is broken and you hear a stampede of soldiers, once you assume had come back from a month long mission. The majority of them, from what you'd heard, sprinted to the canteen to rid themselves of their strictly MRE diet, and finally eat some home cooked food, whilst others ran off to their freshly cleaned barracks to get some well-deserved sleep.

Your little shop also seemed to be quite busy, a long queue waiting to buy water bottles, bandages, blankets, you name it. From nearby chatter from the tired soldiers, it seems most of the teams had arrived back from Afghanistan, a successful mission with no death and a few minor injuries.

An hour goes by and the queue dies down to around 6 people, with one at the till: Jordan.

"So a water bottle, that would be £1.50, payin- my God, Jordan?" You smiled, getting in front of the counter and pulling into a hug. He smelt like dusty and you joked that 1 bottle of water wouldn't suffice to rinse him of the smell.

"I haven't seen you in forever, it's been like 6 months? How's the job been treating you?" He enquiries, placing a kiss against your forehead. By now, the nearly empty shop turns to face the both of you, many assuming the situation to be a couple reuniting.

You and Jordan continue to catch up on everything - his mission, your job...Margaret's obsession with which positions she can take Captain Price in...

"Bro, she was going so in depth into the many ways she can contort her waist for, what she calls, the Price penis?!" You pull your most fake-disgusted face, as Jordan cackles loudly.

But his laugh falls short as a deep scruffy voice interrupts him-

"The only thing being wasted right now, is my time. Hurry the fuck up and pay for your shit. You act like we have all the time in the fucking world."

You jump slightly at the harsh words, although this is a military base, you should be used to this foul language.

"My guy, she said waist, not waste-" Jordan begins, before straightening his back and realising who he was talking to.

He turns around to face the man's voice, his back now turned to you, obstructing your view of the unknown soldier.

"Lie-Lieutenant. My apologies! Lemme grab this water and get out of your way," Jordan nervously chuckles, you can't see who he's talking to, but you can tell this was a man of higher authority, given how Jordan stutters. "Ooh, I see what you wanted to buy! Gloves, nice, socks, cool, Coc-Coco pops?!"

"My fucking God Biggs, the only thing big about you is your stupidity and your pussy attitude, grab your shit and go. Stop holding the fucking line, mate." The male's British accent is so prominent with every word enunciated, and you wish to never run into this stranger again.

"Sir!" Jordan turns to you, handing you a fiver and awkwardly side hugging you, "Have fun with this jerk wad." He whispers into your hair, before running out the shop, his water bottle still on the counter.

"Jordan your bottle-"

Holy shit.

After Jordan moves, your eyes feast before you, revealing a godly 225 lb man, standing at an impressive 1.89 metres, dressed in his dark and intimidating casual attire, his face hidden behind a skeleton mask, his piercing eyes squinted and penetrating into your shorter frame, his biceps bulging out of his sweatshirt, his shoulders broad, his trousers failing to hold his impressive bulg-

"Are you going to continue gawking at me like a fuckin' donkey or should I not pay for this shit?" He huffs out in disappointment.

Rude. Plain rude. Sexy...but rude.

Now you know why Jordan couldn't move a muscle when faced with this guy. Putting 2 to 2 together, you clocked. The way other soldiers left the shop as he entered. The way one look from him gets them to shut up so quickly. The skeleton mask-

This is Ghost.

"We- I- Um-" What the hell? Why can't you form a damn sentence?

"I- I- I don't give a damn. My shit, here." He mocks you, slamming his items on the counter. By now, the other customers have scurried off in fear. It's now you and Ghost in the shop.

You nod, humming a yes, eyebrows furrowing at his unkind words.

The next few moments are followed by near silence, the only sounds being the scanning of the items and your quickening breath. His foot begins tapping rapidly, as sign that you're taking to long.

It's uncomfortabl-

"The old hag before you's gone then."

Yes, Ghost, she is. And if you keep acting like this, I will be too. You grunt a response, unable to find the right words.

"£28.50" You say curtly, after a while. He hums in response, pulling his wallet to pay.

You watch him nervously, you did not expect to see one of the most respected soldiers in front of you so soon. Someone so handsome, someone so fucking sexy, but someone so fucking bitchy...

Oh. You said that last bit out loud.

Ghost pauses his actions, his head slowly craning upwards, his gaze drinking you in.

Your eyes meet his, quickly looking back at the counter, unable to meet his furrowed but amused glare.

"'m so bitchy, but you seem to love it, sweetheart. So red, like you're fucking in love with me or something." He scowls, slapping a £20 note on the counter.

"Maybe next time stopping droolin' over other men when you have your own cunt of a boyfriend." He mutters, before taking his shit and leaving. You don't fail to catch the smirk in his voice, as he exits your shop, loud footsteps booming behind him.

Oh my god.

You were at a loss of words. You were also at a loss of £8.50.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jordy, you don't fuckin' get it! Dickhead left the place, without paying the full fucking price, mind you." Frustration was evident in your voice.

"Bitchy and broke," Jordan snickers.

"And the audacity to call you my boyfriend? Bye." You huff in annoyance, whilst Jordan chokes on his spit. If anything, he was a like a brother to you!

A week has gone by since that first encounter and your conversations with Jordan at the shop, when he passes by, always seem to end up at the topic of Ghost. The way he glares at you as you walk past him in the corridors. The way he sees you struggling when you carry boxes upon boxes- oh he won't help you, by the way. When you ask, he simply scoffs, "You're getting paid and you don't even want to do your job?"

Since that day, you've met all of the Task Force members. Price was as Margaret mentioned, sexy. Soap, comical, Gaz, kind-hearted, Ghost...yeah, he's there.

"But you don't get it man, he's so big- like over 6 foot! And those eyes- man those eyes. So condescending...but so hot..." you continue.

"Damn Margaret wannabe, we get it." Jordan jokes, drinking his can coke - which he didn't pay for. You'll tell him later.

As you both converse, loud footsteps enter the store.

Ghost. Again.

Did I mention he's been in here every day since the first time?

8 a.m. sharp, the moment you clock in for your shift, and 10 p.m. on the dot. Fucker's so annoying, he'll stay around the shopfloor, lazily looking at the various protein bars, even after you state the shop is already 10 minutes past closing.

But you don't mind. His silently stares at you, as if trying to remember the exact location of every beauty spot on your face, the consequent reddening of your cheeks, the slight touches of his rough callous fingers brushing against your own. All this unspoken tension, leads to your every thought being consumed by Simon Riley.

And when he enters the shop, wow. Buys the most random unnecessary shit ever. You notice how he walks in and purchases his singular Coco Pops cereal bar, day after day. This man isn't sick of them?

I mean, come o-

"Your obsession with me is flattering." He states.

Oh, forgot to mention, he's still an asshole. But at least after rehearsing to yourself in the mirror, you can actually speak up for yourself.

"Guh- buh- we- u-" Fuck's sake.

But he actually laughs this time. A loud imploding chuckle exits his mouth, and you actually smile a little at this unfamiliar emotion.

You can't tell what his face is doing under the mask, but his voice suggests a small smile rests on his face, but it soon disappears before he coughs awkwardly.

"Your boyfriend's in the infirmary by the way." He looks away, emphasising boyfriend a little too roughly.

You stare in confusion. Boyfriend? He picks up on this.

"Biggs. Rolled his ankle or some shit. Dunno why he can't just man it up. I've had worse injuries." He mumbles, smiling under his mark slightly, assuming Jordan isn't in fact your boyfriend.

Your eyes widen, "Jordy? Wha-who-how?"

"He-" But before he can answer your question, you're running out the shop to the infirmary, stealing a snack from the shelf for Jordan.

You fail to notice that you'd left a dejected Ghost at the counter, who'd picked up 2 coco pops instead of 1 this time, his smile faltering, as he planned to give you the 2nd, as a token of apology for his impolite behaviour.

In the end, he realised he'd been holding onto a ghost of a connection, overshadowed by the presence of another man.

He winces, being left alone at the till, hoping to actually strike up a conversation with you, as he gathers his (unpaid) belongings and walks out the door, off to shout at any rando that dares get in his way.

yALL its 2.30 a.m. and i'm craving coco pops-

#ghost angst #simon riley #call of duty #task force 141 #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #cod #john price #ghost

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