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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months ago

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What I Didn't Know I Had

Requested Here!

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

Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.

He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.

“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.

“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”

“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”

You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.

“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”

“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”

“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.

“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.

“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”

“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”

“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”

“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”

“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”

“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.

“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.

“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”

Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.

“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.

“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”

“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”

“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”

You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.

“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.

“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.

“ACHBINF?” you ask.

“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”

“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”

“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”

“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”

“Stay in position,” Tim radios.

A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.

“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.

“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”

“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”

You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.

“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.

With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.

“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.

He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.

“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”

“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”

Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.

“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.

“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.

“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.

Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.

“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.

“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”

“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”

“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.

“You really meant that,” he says.

You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”

“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”

Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.

“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“

Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”

You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.

“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”

“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.

“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.

“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”

“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.

You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.

“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.

He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.

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

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moody-alcoholic · 2 months ago

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On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 5 - You Should Always Check Your Sources

CW: Angst, language, mentions of torture

Previous parts - masterlist - next

When you enter the room with John, Kate stands up looking over at you. She picks her laptop up like she’s packing to leave.

“Stay.” You say. You don’t want to be alone in a room with John. She looks at John waiting for his nod of approval before sitting back down. He walks over to a drawer pulling a file out. He hands it to you. You open it, the first pages are just generic report stuff. You flick through it until you come across some pictures.

Pictures, well CCTV screenshots of you. In London, you have no idea where they were taken or when but it looks like you. The same hair, even the same coat you wear. You’re meeting up with someone for coffee from the looks of it. You don’t recognise the other person though.

“What's this?” You ask confused. The next page shows the transcript of a call between you and someone else.

“A phone call between you and a man called; Andrei Nolan. He’s Makarovs right hand man.” John says you look up at him frowning.

“I’m assuming he’s the man in the photos too?” You ask flicking back to them. You look up at John who nods. You don’t even recognise the guy, he could have been someone you just hooked up with or bumped into. You try to think back but the date on the CCTV screenshot is marked out.

You hand the folder back to John.

“I don’t even recognise the guy.” You say. You cross your arms, you don’t expect him to believe you.

“We caught him in Russia about a week ago. He was more than happy to talk about your meetings.” John says.

“Meetings?” You question raising an eyebrow. You don’t like this, this is feeling all too familiar to the last few days. You’re one step away from having a rag pressed on your face again.

“We assumed you were selling secrets to him.” Jon says. You scoff, looking over at Kate who tips her head slightly watching you both.

“What changed your mind?”

“Our mole in Konni gave us intel that exonerated you.” Kate says.

“That’s why it took so long, we had to assume the worst until we could prove any different.” He sighs, you look at him. “We had to do our job. If we didn’t we could have been accused of harboring a traitor, giving you special exemptions.”

You laugh, you can't believe what he's saying. You can feel tears welling back up in your eyes. You turn away. You won’t let him see you cry. You hear him take a step towards you, you freeze. He sighs almost like he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“I really am sorry. I never thought it would come to this but our hands were tied we-”

“You had a choice.” You snap, turning back to look at him. “You always have a choice. You told me that once.”

“I-”

“No! You had a choice and you chose this. You could have let me rot in a cell for a few days. Or suspended me, hell I would have taken a flight back to the UK as a traitor. Instead you-” The words catch in your throat tears escape your eyes. You step back away from him, swallowing hard.

“I want a transfer.” You say finally trying to keep your voice level. You wait for his response, your eyes digging into him. He straightens up, now he looks like he’s about to cry. Good, you hope they feel horrible for what they did.

“Why don’t you think about it for a few days. You don’t have anywhere to be, you can take some time to rest.” Kate says. You look over at her.

“Rest?” You scoff, looking back at John. “I can’t sleep without being back in that room over and over again. I can’t wash my hands or take a shower without having flashbacks. Everytime I see you I panic, thinking something new will happen, more ‘evidence’ against me and I’ll be back in that room again.”

John doesn’t say anything, his eyes are relaxed, his lips pressed together. You hope the guilt is eating him alive. You can see the dark circles under his eyes, the way he clenches his fists when you talk to him.

“I want a transfer.” You say again holding your ground. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything, just nods his head slightly. You let out a shaky breath. You nod back at him and turn to leave, you thought it would feel like a weight has been lifted but instead you feel worse.

You’re turning your back on the people you love, the people you spent the last 2 years with. The people you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. It hurts. Maybe more then the torture at least the physical part. The betrayal, the emotional toll of having the people you love hurt you so much.

“Johnny knows by the way.” You say as you open the door and you leave without looking back.

—--------------

“You need to calm down Johnny.” Simon says as Johnny’s trying to get out of bed.

“He’s right Soap, you’re no good to anyone like this, you've just had major surgery.” Kyle says trying to help Simon get control of the situation.

“Fuck you.” Johnny snaps, pulling his arm out of Simon's grip and swinging his legs out the bed.

“What’s going on?” John asks as he enters the room taking in the scene.

“You tortured her. For 4 days you made her suffer, what were you thinking?” Johnny asks John in almost disbelief. “The snakes really? Low even for you.”

“Does it matter?” John asks, coming into the room sighing.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Johnny asks scoffing and looking between Simon and John.

“Of course it fuckin’ matters. She’s our girl cap. Or did you forget that?” There's spite in Johnny’s voice as he digs his eyes into John.

“Get back into bed.” John says walking up to the bed.

“Fuck no. I want to see her.” Kyle pushes Johnny back, keeping him in the bed.

“You know she’ll just drag you back here.” Kyle says. Johnny grunts, giving up pushing against him, he’s too weak anyway. He sighs, shaking his head.

“You really thought it was her?” He asks.

“The intel we had was solid.” John says. Kyle scoffs this time, Johnny looks up at him raising an eyebrow.

“Does it justify 4 days of torture though?” Kyle says, there’s spite in his voice too. John sighs, he can regret it all he wants but it happened and that's on him and Simon.

“Regardless, we had to act on it.” Simon says coming round to the end of the bed.

“We should have done it differently.” John says.

“You think?” Johnny snaps looking over at him. Johnny shakes his head again. He swings his legs back into the bed, Kyle lets out a breath of release.

“I can’t believe it. You fucking broke her. The person we’re supposed to love. 4 days, 4 fucking days.” Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s silence in the room, tension thick in the air.

“What are we going to do?” Johnny asks no one in particular.

“Nothing.” John says, everyones eyes turn to him. “She’s asked for a transfer.”

—--------------

You walk into Johnny’s room around midnight. You couldn’t sleep again. You’re sick of sleeping. The pills don’t help, they just make you feel trapped in your dreams. You try to silently enter and pull a chair up to his bed but he stirs awake.

“Hey lass,” he says, turning in the bed to face you. He looks sad, his face puffy. He’s been crying.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whisper.

“Come up.” He says shuffling in the bed and pulling the covers out the way.

“I shouldn’t-”

“You should.” He says cutting you off. You smile and reach town to take your boots off. He moves to get more comfortable as you climb into bed next to him. He immediately wraps his arms around you pulling the thin hospital blankets over you.

You lay there for a few seconds, breathing him in. He smells of hospital, but there’s a hint of Johnny there, the lingering smell of gunpowder and whatever musky cologne he uses. It makes you smile as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asks, kissing the top of your head. You hum.

“Me too.”

You’re comfortable laying up against him. Suddenly you feel bad for leaving, you don’t know how you’re going to tell Kyle and Johnny. You need to go though, it's better for everyone. You can’t work with them again, not after what they did.

Johnny and Kyle will understand. You’re sure they will.

“I’m sorry you got shot.” You say, it feels like something you have to say.

“Shh, you saved my life love. I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for you.” He says kissing your head again. His hands are running over you like it’s the first time he’s touching you. You know that’s a lie, you have to convince yourself they can save themselves. They would be lost without each other, they wouldn’t be lost without you.

You’re going to miss him. You close your eyes, breathing him in relaxing your arm over his stomach while he strokes you.

You’ll see them again, keep in contact with Kyle and Johnny at least. You just can’t work with them anymore.

“I love you Johnny.” You say, it hurts. For the first time ever it hurts to say it.

“I know love. I love you too.” You smile letting him hug you tighter. You try to stay away but your eyes are heavy, the sounds of the machines lulling you to sleep.

You’ll tell them tomorrow you promise yourself.

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drewsbuzzcut · 9 months ago

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The Best Of You, Honey, Belongs To Me

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: some jealousy and smut, mentions having a baby and drinking alcohol, and mentions marriage

Takes place September 2026

“Ryan’s here,” Mat groans while unbuckling Nolan from his car seat.

Your sweet boy kicks his legs in delight, ready to be in his daddy’s arms while simultaneously distracting Mat from his distaste. You clock just where Mat’s line of vision was previously directed, Ryan’s car.

“You memorized his car?” You ask with a smirk after you round the corner to get to your two boys.

Mat doesn’t usually get jealous, so when he does you always feel a little smug.

“It’s not my fault he’s always around,” Mat mutters against Nolan’s chubby cheek.

“Dada,” Nolan squeals, his body leaning into his daddy’s chest.

“Aw baby, don’t be jealous. I’m all yours,” you say, holding up your left hand to showcase your rock for an engagement ring. It catches the rays from the sun and gleams, making Mat smile gleefully.

“I love you,” he says with his lovesick eyes that you love so much.

You walk up to him, long silky smooth legs on display, and reach out to move some hair away from his forehead. His hazel eyes sparkle in the sun, luring you into his chest. Or maybe it was his large hand on the curve of your ass pulling you to him. You seal your mouth to his and welcome his tongue as it passes the seam of your lips. He hums into you, tasting the cherry flavor of your lip gloss.

“Fuck. Can I just take you home?” Mat asks, breathlessly after he reluctantly pulls away.

He keeps his eyes closed for a while, memories of your night before flashing through his mind.

“Sorry, hotshot. We need to be here at least 3 hours before we can think about leaving,” you sigh, turning to adjust Nolan’s wrinkled shirt.

He gives you a single-tooth smile and you can’t resist kissing his cheeks, eliciting his precious giggles.

“Mama,” he coos and puckers his lips for a kiss.

“My boys and their kisses,” you cheer, happily giving your baby another kiss.

After dinner and many conversations held with many people, you finally have time to find your boys and relax. You make a quick stop at the ice chest to find a drink for yourself and Mat. The both of you won’t be able to drink too much because you have Nolan and the drive back home, but one sounds nice.

As you’re about to get to your fiancé, you see Ryan step up to him and you pause. Things with Mat and Ryan are still weird. Even though there have been many occasions that they’ve been around each other, there’s still tension that lingers. Ryan will make conversation with you and Mat will immediately turn green in jealousy. He reeks in it and you especially feel it when he paws at you so openly. You don’t mind Mat’s brazen nature when it comes to you; you know he’s not faking it.

“Hey, man. Do you mind if I carry Nolie bear?” Ryan asks and you can clearly see Mat tense up. His skin crawls as this nobody uses the nickname you coined for your son.

He’s still for a while and Ryan waits in front of him patiently. Mat’s confidence starts to falter. He never really thought about another man carrying his son as a threat, but now he’s on alert.

“Sure,” Mat agrees and passes Nolan into Ryan’s arms.

“He’s adorable, Mat. He reminds me a lot of Y/n,” Ryan says with a smile. His eyes briefly flash over to you. He seems to always know where you are.

“That’s funny, Y/n always says that he’s my mini me,” Mat retorts with a smug look painting his face.

Before Ryan can respond, Nolan starts wailing and squirming. He reaches his little arms out for his daddy, and Mat wastes no time taking him into his arms. Nolan’s cries pull you to them, so you can make sure he’s okay.

“Hey little man. Are you okay, baby?” You coo and run your fingers through the small tufts of hair on his head.

Mat watches the way Ryan’s eyes burn into your skin. He watches you so intently, like he just wants to pull you into him. Well, too bad. Mat will never let it happen.

“He’s okay. He just isn’t used to being in strangers arms,” Mat hums, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. As you wipe away Nolan’s tears, Mat’s hand makes home on the small of your back. His fingers dip down to the curve of your ass and you send him a wicked grin. His touch alone is enough to set you on fire.

“He’s a daddy’s boy at the moment,” you chime in, nudging your nose into your boyfriend’s cheek. You softly cup his cheek and pulls his lips to yours. The large diamonds of your engagement ring shine under the light and catch Ryan’s eye.

“You’re engaged?” His shocked question pulls your attention away from where you’re currently occupied.

“Oh yeah! Mat asked while we were in Italy last month. Isn’t my ring perfect? Mat had it customized. I’m so lucky,” you gleam, practically jumping up and down. The jiggle of your ass under your shorts catches Mat’s attention and he has to wipe away the drool on his chin.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to make this pretty girl my wife,” Mat simpers, slapping your ass and kissing on your exposed shoulder.

“Well of course you had to. She did have your baby,” Ryan murmurs, eyes rolling at the two of you.

“Shut up,” you snap and push yourself into Mat’s chest before he can throw a fist.

“I’m just saying. He probably felt like he had to propose to you because you had a baby,” Ryan shrugs as if what he was saying wasn’t rude and offensive.

“Careful, Ryan. You almost sound jealous,” Mat grunts.

“Jealous? Of who? You?” The other guy shakes his head, his eyes dead set on Mat.

“Right, you wouldn’t be jealous of me. I only have the girl of your dreams in my bed every night and she had my baby. And now she’s wearing the engagement ring I designed for her, but you’re not jealous,” Mat says under his breath, but loud enough for Ryan to hear.

You turn into Mat’s chest, coming face to face with the protruding veins on his neck and the flush in his face. He’s pissed. You rub down his torso and rub at Nolan’s back. Surely he can feel the tension and that’s why he’s pressed into Mat.

“I don’t care about any of that, because guess what? She’ll never forget her first,” Ryan huffs, unknowingly setting off a ticking time bomb inside of your fiancé.

Your jaw drops to the floor and your anger starts to boil over its already overflowing pot. You cannot believe this is happening right now.

“You know what, it’s time to go,” you cut in before things have a chance to turn for the worst.

Mat follows you silently, his hand intertwining with yours lets you know that he’s trying to calm down.

Bidding your goodbyes and promises of seeing your family and friends again soon pass by in a blur. You’re not even sure what words came out of your mouth. Your feet just know that you have to get out of there and carry you to the car with Nolan in hand.

As you buckle Nolan in you start to feel guilty for leaving Mat in there- he’s either stuck in line for the restroom or stuck in his farewells- but the air in that house was starting to run thin.

And while you worry about Mat, he’s seemingly burning whatever remnants of the bridge that connects you to Ryan.

Your fiancé places a heavy hand on Ryan’s shoulder, gathering his full attention.

“You may have been her first, but I’m her last. At least I can please my girl more than once in one night, and she sometimes doesn’t mind making a mess on my sheets,” Mat whispers and walks away before Ryan can respond.

The hockey player finds you in his vehicle, his fast paced walk getting him to you within a minute.

“I’m sorry I left you in there. I just needed to get-“ your words are cut off by Mat’s lips on yours.

His hands cup your cheeks and tilt your head back as his tongue devours your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he huffs, eyes closed as he tries to commit this kiss to memory.

“Always and forever,” you breathlessly whisper and place your forehead against his.

“Let’s go home,” he says, patting your butt and walking you to the passenger side.

The entire way home you keep a watchful eye on Mat. You can tell he’s still bothered by what happened by the way he white knuckles the steering wheel. You cup the back of his neck and rub out the tension with your thumb. You can feel him partially relax into your touch.

“I love you, Barzy,” you whisper and finally relax into the seat.

Back at home, you quickly give Nolan and yourself a bath before putting him to sleep.

Mat intercepts you in your shared bedroom, his hands pull your body into a hug. You’re only clad in your silk robe and the hockey player is quick to undo the tie. His eyes roam your bare body hidden beneath the silky material. Your nipples peek through and catch his attention. His thumbs massage your nipples over your robe and your core starts to tingle in delight.

“I can’t believe you ever had sex with that guy,” Mat grumbles as he pushes the robe off of your shoulders.

He grabs you by your waist and hoists you so you’re lying on your California king sized bed. Your darkening eyes follow each of his movements as he pulls off every item of clothing on his frame.

You move to rest on your side, half propped up by leaning on your elbow.

“It pisses me off that he made you come for the first time. It pisses me off even more that he’s still around and that he watches you like a hawk. You’re mine. You’re my wife, the mother of our child,” he exasperated, hands fisting his hair.

You watch him vibrate with anger that’s triggered by jealousy. Some people may feel guilty, but it turns you on like no other.

“But look at you all laid out for me,” Mat continues, finally getting on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, his knees pressing into the mattress at your sides. He leans down, cups your breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth. A soft moan escapes your mouth, one that he almost doesn’t hear.

“Baby,” you hum and guide his hand to your heat.

“You’re so wet, pretty girl. Who’re you all soaked for?” He smirks at the way you coat his fingers in arousal.

“You. Only you,” you whimper as he sinks his cold fingers into you, preparing you for his cock.

“Hell yeah. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this,” Mat stakes his claim and continues to pump his thick digits into you.

“Fuck me. Fill me up, please,” you beg and close your legs around his wrist to stop his movements.

“You want my cock, baby?”

You nod your head before uttering out a desperate please.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” He questions even though he knows the answer. He finally moves between your legs, grabbing his length and giving it a few strokes, sending a jolt of excitement through you.

“Yes,” your response is broken as he slips himself between your folds. His shaft glistens in your wetness.

You softly swivel your hips, your clit meeting his leaking tip. He taps his head on your sensitive bud, teasing you until you’re begging.

“You feel so fucking good. Your pussy was made for me,” he grunts as he finally stretches you open.

Your core flutters around him immediately. He’s rock hard and heavy inside of you. His thrusts are slow, but pronounced. His mushroomed tip glides along your wet walls in a tantric massage. It makes you so weak.

“Kiss me,” you whine and pull him down on top of you. Your legs wrap around him, your heels digging into his back to keep him deep inside of you. Your hands wrap around his upper back and neck. You always need him pressed to your skin.

Mat takes your lips in his, his nose nudging into yours and his tongue stroking yours. He swallows each of your moans while simultaneously pulling more out of you.

The all too familiar knot starts to tighten in your tummy. Every single nerve ending in your body burns in lust. Mat must feel the way you clench down on him, because he lifts one of your legs and places it over his shoulder.

“Oh my god. Right there, Maty. Don’t stop,” you chant at the change in angle.

His cock hits deeper to the point you practically feel him in your stomach. His large hands grip your hips and move them up and down. He repeatedly presses into your sweet spot and it sends you reeling. Your back arches off the bed and you fist the sheets while your moans get stuck in your throat. The pleasure is too good, it’s rendered you speechless.

“You look so sexy taking my cock,” he praises and circles your clit with the pad of his thumb.

Your body thrums in bliss, your slick dripping down his length and collecting at the base. The squelching and moaning creates your own melody.

“I’m going to come,” you announce with a loud moan.

The knot is being pulled taut, on the verge of snapping, and Mat holds you tight as he pounds into you.

“Come on my cock and scream my name, baby,” he throws you into the abyss.

You come with a cry, his name in the center of it. Your body twitches as the strength of your orgasm unleashes its wrath. Your walls collapse on his cock and sets off his own release. His come is pumped deep inside of you, filling you up, making you his.

“That’s it, pretty girl. You’re such a good girl, taking all of my come,” Mat praises, slowly pulling out of you and letting his lips caress your entire shivering body. He reaches down and circles your clit, working you through your release. Very gently he inserts two fingers into your sopping pussy, fucking his come back into you. It’s an erotic sight to see it drop down your thighs, but he also loves watching you be full of him. Plus, it’s hot to see it spill from your cunt.

“I love you,” you whimper and kiss on any part of him you can reach.

“I love you, baby.” He scoops your body into his arms and adjusts the both of you, so you’re lying on his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart eases the effects of your aftershocks. His warmth seeps into your skin and you can feel yourself slipping into the perfect satiated state.

Nolan’s shrill cries break through the silence from the baby monitor and wake you up.

“I got it,” Mat whispers with a kiss to your forehead.

“No, let me. I want to hold my baby,” you respond and pull yourself out of bed.

You quickly get cleaned up before warming up his milk and entering the nursery. While you get Nolan situated in the rocking chair, Mat cleans himself up and puts on some underwear.

Quietly he stands in the entrance of Nolan’s room, watching the love of his life feed their baby. You’re dressed in Mat’s button up and Nolan is wrapped in an Islanders onesie. He sucks his milk while his eyes are glued to you. Mat knows that’s why you love feeding him. The bonding moment is everything to you, especially since you weaned him off of your breast milk.

You look up and find the love of your life watching the sweet moment between you and your son. You give him a soft smile, one full of love and appreciation. He single-handedly changed your life and you couldn’t be happier than you are right now.

“I love you, Y/n. So much,” Mat professes, kneeling down next to the rocking chair, and gracing you with many kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“I love you, Barzy,” you whisper tearfully.

With ease, Mat picks you up and sets you on his lap after he sits on the chair. You lean your head back on his shoulder and continue feeding your baby boy. Mat presses his mouth into your neck and his pointer finger is wrapped up in Nolan’s tiny hand. Mat is grateful for his life with you and the family you’re both creating.

a/n: Idk how I really feel about this, but enjoy!

#visceral in doses #mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders

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brokenpieces-72 · 2 months ago

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Nightmare Comfort

Note: So when I made the poll for the missing part of the gangster au, I got 20% of people who wanted both, and then the nightmare comfort and normal release were an even split of 40%. So you're getting both.

TW: Violence, interrogation, nightmare, blood, let me know if I miss anything

“Fuck…” you groan.

“You’re a little shit.” Nolan grunts, spitting. “You want me to get ugly?”

“You were being pretty?” You question, trying to hide the amount of pain in your voice.

You hear a gun cock. Your blood goes cold. You go very still. “Tell me where!”

“I swear to fuck I don’t fucking know!”

“Tell me where Makarov’s file is!” He yells.

“I don’t fucking know!!”

BANG

You bolt upright in bed, clutching your chest, wincing from the bandage. In the darkness you see the shape of the stray scurrying away from the bed. You're in a cold sweat as you take deep breathes, trying to steady and ground yourself. You toss back the blankets, and hurry out of your room. The living space is barren so you hurry to their rooms, cracking their doors open. Gaz, Soap, Price and Ghost are asleep. Your heart is still beating hard though. A dream... all a dream.

You wish it were only a dream. The truth is Nolan had done a number on you and the marks were there to stay. You were reckless and didn’t take care of yourself. If Alex and Charly hadn’t made it in time you’d be dead. Dead over something that didn’t exist. You could’ve lost everyone who was asleep right now. They wouldn’t be in safe beds, they would be in the water.

You’re not gonna be going back to sleep anytime soon, so you curled up on the couch instead. The cat curls up with you. The pain is still there, the weapons are in your mind despite never seeing them. You can’t help yourself from imagining the others in the same state as you were. Your bruises were still visible, you’d seen them when you’d got to take a shower. Too soon for a pain killer since your last.

You absently pet the cat, as the dark apartment remains still around you. Very slowly your eyes drift close, and you aren’t about to bother moving. Too cozy where you are. If anyone could come through the door you could be ready. But sleep consumes you easily enough.

When Simon woke up he went to the kitchen and saw you on the couch. You were groaning softly, the cat having already hopped away. Ghost noticed you started to toss and turn. Coffee could wait. He went over to you instead as you started to get louder. Simon started to shake you awake.

You awoke and went to attack the random figure that had appeared at your side, seemingly out of nowhere. Ghost was faster, catching your wrists, but his instincts were faster than him. He ended up pushing your wrists and almost getting on top of you. With the darkness you could quite make him out, and are about to call for help. He uses a hand to cover your mouth.

"It's me!" He says, voice low and gravelly. You stop using your free hand to try and shover him off as you start coming back to reality. Your hard breathing starts to slow and soften while your heart pounds in your chest. Ghost stares down at you wait for you to steady yourself. As Ghost's weight on top of you starts to ground you, you also start to wince. Eventually the soreness is hard to bear, so you pull his hand off.

"You're on my bad leg." You whisper. Simon doesn't get off but readjusts himself, so the weight of his knee isn't pressing on anything sensitive. You do a small check around the dark room. God what time is it? Early probably. You can't make out any of the digital clocks from the couch. You don't notice Simon is still staring at you.

"Broken?" He asks after a moment of you two just breathing and waiting.

"No." you answer. Your head was hurting though. Ghost got off of you, letting you sit up. You stretch because the couch, while comfy isn't exactly great on your back.

"What are you doing out here?" Ghost asks, keeping his voice down. You shrug.

"No reason." You say. "Couch is comfy."

Ghost can tell you're lying. He's worried about you. Being a cop couldn't have been easy, he knows you've been fired a gun before. Seeing Makarov point a gun at your already beaten and weakened state nearly set him off. Ghost has to remind himself that you're not a child anymore, not some naive rookie. By now you had a good enough taste of this life to be taken seriously. After everything that has happened, that you caused he also knows you don't want to be a problem. Joining them, you crossed plenty of bridges, but by now you've burned quite a few.

Simon sits next to you on the couch, and you can feel it sink to his weight. He debates talking to you about how you're not alone, and never have to be. Sure he's private but you don't have to be. The whole Nolan thing was this life rearing it's ugly head.

Regardless you need rest. Those injuries aren't gonna heal if you're thrashing around in your sleep. Simon stands and offers his hand to hekp you. "Get up."

You do as he says and he sits down in your spot. He gently tugs you back down on the couch, but you feel him moving you around. You realize he's reclined on the sofa and is laying you on top of him.

"Ghost what ar-"

"Lay down." He orders. You don't argue and do as he says. Why was your face warm? Why was he so warm? "Close your eyes, try to sleep."

You try lifting your head so you can question him, but he pulls your head back down to his chest. You can feel his heart beating, calm and steady. Man, talk about a big step. Ghost went from standing in a corner in the same room as you, to being your comfort pillow.

"Don't you have stuff to do?" You asked.

"Not really. I wake up early out of habit." Ghost said, his voice low. "Used to do it to avoid my father, a run in the mornings, go to school, work, etc."

"Your father?" You asked, rolling over on to your stomach. Ghost sighed and pulled your head back down. Why did he let that out? Guess it was easier to tell you now, otherwise you'd probably go searching for answers on your own. Better to hear the truth from him. By now he'd told Johnny and Price, Laswell had seen the reports, you probably had too. Something about your weight on top of him made him feel he should air out some issues, if only so you understand who you were sleeping with... there was a better way to phrase that.

"Learned I shouldn't call him that. He used bring in wild animals to scare me, an addict, and would encourage my brother to do the same." Ghost listed off. A brother too? You wondered if any of the others had siblings they didn't talk about. "Abused me and my mother."

There was a span of silence as if he'd told you the whole story and was letting you sit with it. You'd seen a few abuse cases, that had resulted in murder, from both sides. Sometimes the victim fought back and other times the abuse got deadly. You felt like there was more than what Ghost was telling you. Ghost was a private man, so maybe he just didn't want to say anything more. You let yourself relax into him. Simon isn't one to act violently without cause.

A hand drifts to your head, calloused fingers playing with your hair. The sound of your hair being played with and Simon's heartbeat filled the otherwise quiet ambience of the room. Did he think you were asleep already? How much time had passed since he finished telling you what his dad was like? You couldn't help but feel the rest of the story was important. Thinking of what he's told you and where Simon was now, there were a few blanks. You couldn't think of the right question to ask next.

"Is that how you met my dad? Calling the cops on him?" You asked quietly. Simon is still quiet.

"No." He said, and the hand that was in your hair, was resting on your neck. His hands are a little cold. Simon's thumb over your soft neck is soothing for both of you. "He's dead. Killed him after he killed my mother."

Now it's your turn to be quiet. Simon killing his father. You could see it. There was motive too. It wasn't something you wanted to pry open further. With how calm Simon was, you assumed it must have gone far deeper, and his mother's death was the final straw. You thought back to when you came to live at the hideout for the first night, and the stray that had practically become the house pet. Simon's comment about black cats being targeted simply for their fur colour. Hated simply for something you can't control. As you lay there you there you felt the urge to say something, the statement lingering in the air awkwardly.

"Thank you." You said. Thank you. Thank you? Wow that's all you can think to say? You don't even know why you said it, whether it was for his comfort, his acceptance of you, or for killing his piece of shit father. It was a mix.

"Go to sleep." Simon grumbled, and his thumb stroked the back of your neck. You stretched as much as you could without hurting Simon or yourself, before shutting your eyes again.

Kyle woke up and came out to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks immediately once he saw you and Ghost on the couch. Kyle debated backtracking to his room, not wanting to disrupt... whatever this was exactly. At least he hadn't turned on the kitchen light yet. Before Kyle could think of a next step though, Simon spotted him. Simon nodded.

"Are they okay?" He asked quietly.

"They are now." Simon answered.

"I'll go pick up breakfast." Kyle said, returning to his room to get a jacket. He wasn't going to interrupt this moment. Kyle left without another word, intending to get the usual.

Price had slept in a bit, needing some extra recovery time himself. There were no plans until everything calmed down, and Makarov played his next hand. Kyle sent him a text saying he was picking up breakfast. Price hoped Kyle at least put the kettle on before he left.

When Price got changed and came out to get something to drink he found you still sleeping on Ghost's chest. Was that what Simon meant when he said you were a cat? Ghost gave his boss the same nod as he did with Kyle, and Price returned it.

"Painkillers or nightmares?" Price asked.

"Bit a' both." Simon said. "Told her about my record a bit."

It was his tale to tell, and Price wasn't about to put any restraints on what Simon could and couldn't say. Price didn't talk about Simon, because there wasn't anything people needed to know about him. Simon was plenty old enough to decide what he wanted people to know about him.

"Much sleep?" He asked. Simon shrugged. He hadn't been keeping track. Price checked the clock and decided to head out for his morning coffee. The kettle would wake you like an alarm clock. You needed more rest.

Of course Johnny came out and saw the scene, the earliest rays of the morning giving a low light to the space. He paused mid step and Simon looked up at him. Like Kyle he debated going back to his room.

"You two want privacy?" He asked.

"We're fine Johnny." Ghost said, rolling his eyes. Then Johnny took his phone out. Before he could take the photo, Simon stared him down. Johnny looked up, and his cheeky grin disappeared.

"They're sleeping. Don't make me get up." Simon warned. Johnny raised his hands and stepped back. Okay. He'll just chill in his room until breakfast comes.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @theotheronedotorg

#cod au #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod gangster au #gn reader #nightmares #nightmare comfort #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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newobsessionweekly · 9 months ago

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Long sleeves

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Tim is replacing your TO for the day, and he doesn't hesitate giving you a hard time. And, in the end it's worth it.

Fluff Warnings: none, I guess. Not proofread yet Requested: yes - here Words: 2.4k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

Six months now as a rookie and you know is not what you've expected. The blood, the lose and the deafening sound of the gunshots, no one can prepare you for that and you can't get them off your mind.

You're seated in the first row amongst the other rookies, tapping your foot nervously against the floor, waiting for the briefing to start and face another shift. You've come a long way since joining the force, each day pushing harder to prove your worth and dedication to the job. Suddenly, the murmurs and laughter fade into the air as Tim Bradford, the rookie sergeant wearing a commanding posture, and Sergeant Grey takes their spots at the front of the room.

The briefing starts, but your mind wanders as the Sergeant Bradford, under the guidance of Grey, discuss the day's agenda. You catch snatches of their conversation—the usual updates on recent incidents, reminders about protocol—but your attention keeps drifting back to Tim.

Tim's rugged features catch your eye immediately, igniting a warmth in your chest that you quickly try to suppress. You've always admired him from afar, but lately, there's been something more—an undeniable attraction that you can't seem to shake.

Then, to your surprise, Tim looks up and catches your eye. There's a flicker of something in his gaze—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just curiosity—as he nods in your direction.

"Officer Y/L/N" Tim's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm and commanding. "Nolan's out today, dealing with some personal stuff," he continues, his tone businesslike yet tinged with a hint of something else. "Which means," he pauses, locking eyes with you, "you'll be riding with me."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Tim as your temporary TO. You've heard the rumors about his legendary Tim Tests and his grumpy attitude, and the thought of riding with him sends a wave of nervousness coursing through you.

Glancing over at Tim, you can't help but notice the toughness of his aspect, the way his uniform fits perfectly against his body. Despite his severe exterior, there's an undeniable magnetism about him that draws you in, stirring up a flurry of conflicting emotions within you.

Tim can't deny the surge of expectation that courses through him as he watches you. There's something about the way you carry yourself, a determination in your eyes that sets you apart from the other rookies. And if he's being honest with himself, he can't help but notice how damn attractive you are.

But beneath the surface, there's something else brewing—a tension that Tim can't quite put his finger on. He's caught himself stealing glances at you more than once, admiring the way you handle yourself under pressure. And lately, he's found himself wondering what it would be like to see you in a different light.

As Tim finishes the briefing, he offers a nod to the room, "Be safe out there." Then, he makes his way over to you with long, decisive steps, his gaze lingering on your uniform.

"What are you wearing, Boot?" Tim's voice is low, his eyes flicking over your body.

You straighten up, a proud smile tugging at your lips. "Short sleeves. Got the highest score on my exam," you reply confidently, hoping to impress him.

But instead of returning your smile, Tim's expression remains serious and professional. "Go change. You can wear short sleeves when you prove me you're worthy of them," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart sinks at his words, the excitement of earning your short sleeves fading as quickly as it had come. Swallowing your disappointment, you nod silently and hurry off to change into the long sleeves uniform.

As you slip into the familiar fabric, Lucy approaches you in the locker room, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Don't forget the tie," she reminds you gently, her voice filled with understanding.

You offer her a grateful smile, though you can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at having to cover up your hard-earned accomplishment. "Thanks, Lucy," you murmur, grateful for her support.

As you adjust your tie, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen, Y/N," she begins, her tone carrying the weight of experience. "I've been in your shoes before. Tim can be a hardass, but he's also one of the best. He'll push you because he believes in you, but don't let his grumpiness get under your skin."

You nod, hanging onto every word Lucy says. "Got it." you reply, determined to heed her advice.

"And one more thing," Lucy adds, her voice softening slightly. "Don't take it personally if he's tough on you. It's just his way of pushing you to be your best."

With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You'll survive him for a day," she assures you, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at her words, knowing all too well the reputation Tim has earned as a tough and demanding Training Officer. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that today will be different—that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to prove yourself to Tim in ways he never expected.

The shop is slicing through LA's mid-day traffic and the tension between you and Tim is palpable. He read some impressive reviews about you from Nolan, but knowing well the TO, Tim is afraid John is going too soft on you. His eyes flicker over to you, his expression unreadable as he silently enjoys the day on patrol. Since he became a Sergeant, Tim misses the action from the streets more than anything.

Suddenly, the crackle of the radio breaks the silence, dispatching you to a domestic disturbance call. Tim's jaw tightens as he steers the car towards the address, his mind already in cop mode.

"Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-100, show us responding." Tim grunts, his voice clipped and authoritative. "Boot, what's the first thing you do when responding to a domestic disturbance?"

You don't miss a beat, drawing on your training as you recite the correct procedure straight from the rookie book. "First priority is ensuring the safety of everyone involved, sir," you respond confidently, your tone unwavering despite Tim's rough attitude.

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. When you arrive at the scene, tension is running high as you step out of the shop. Tim takes the lead, barking out orders with authority as you assess the situation and intervene to de-escalate the conflict, ensuring everyone's safety.

Back in the shop, Tim turns his attention back to you. "Alright, Boot. What's the procedure for conducting a field sobriety test?"

You take a moment to think before answering confidently, "First, observe the suspect's behavior and look for signs of impairment. Then, administer a series of tests, such as the walk-and-turn and one-leg stand."

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Not bad, Boot."

He can't tear his gaze away from you, your beauty captivating him in a way he can't quite explain. There's something about you that draws him in, igniting a fire deep within him that he struggles to control. Tim can't help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

As much as Tim tries to push aside his carnal desires, they only seem to grow stronger with each passing moment. He can feel the heat of your gaze on him, your unholy thoughts mirroring his own as the day slowly turns into night.

You are consumed by your own forbidden desires for Tim. You can't stop the flood of sinful images that race through your mind whenever he's near, igniting a fire within you that you struggles to contain. His rugged good looks and commanding presence awaken something primal within you, stirring a desire you can't ignore.

You two share a rare moment of quiet in the shop and you can't help but steal glances at Tim, your heart pounding with longing. You imagine what it would be like to feel his touch, to experience the raw passion that simmers beneath his tough exterior.

But despite the undeniable attraction that simmers between you, you know that giving in to temptation would only complicate things further. Tim may be your sergeant, but he's also your forbidden desire, a fantasy that can never be reality.

Just as you start to relax and head towards lunch, another call comes in—a suspect fleeing on foot. Without hesitation, you and Tim leap into action, chasing the suspect through alleyways and side streets until, finally, you manages to tackle them to the ground, bringing the suspect into custody.

Lunch break unfolded pretty quickly, the time spent apart from Tim was too short. You missed Nolan more than you want to admit, there's a bond that formed between you, his talkative personality matching yours. But with Tim, knowing he's a Sergeant and plus his grumpiness that never fails to resurface, you have your own restrictions.

Back in the shop, you didn't dare to start a conversation with him. You wished to talk about anything else but work and the rookie book, to ease your mind and relax, enjoy the job, but Tim is nothing like that.

"What's the standard protocol for approaching a suspect who may be armed?"

"Um, well..." you begin, your voice uncertain as you struggle to recall the answer from the rookie book. "I think... we're supposed to maintain a safe distance and try to de-escalate the situation verbally before resorting to force?"

Tim's expression remains impassive as he waits for you to finish, but when you hesitate, he interrupts, his voice sharp. "You think? Or are you sure?"

You swallow hard, your confidence faltering under Tim's intense gaze. "I'm sure," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Tim shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "You think too much," he says curtly. "The suspect is firing at you and the civilians. We're dead, and he's running away."

As you drive in silence after the tense exchange, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment and anxiety gnawing at you. You replay the scenario in your mind, berating yourself for not being able to answer Tim's question correctly.

Before you can voice your concerns, Tim's sharp voice cuts through the silence, snapping you back to reality. "Suspicious vehicle ahead. What do you do, Boot?" he asks, his tone expectant.

Heart pounding, you respond without hesitation. "I'll pull them over," you declare, taking action and flicking on the lights and siren.

The shop pulls up behind the vehicle, and as you both step out of the car, Tim nods towards you, silently indicating for you to take the lead. With a deep breath, you approach the driver's side, your hand resting on your holster, ready for anything.

But as you reach the window, your blood runs cold. The driver pulls a gun, aiming it directly at you. Frozen in fear, your mind goes blank, unable to process the gravity of the situation.

In an instant, Tim is by your side, his voice steady and commanding as he diffuses the tense standoff. With precision and skill, he disarms the suspect and secures the scene, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

His expression is stern as you approach the shop, "You froze back there, Boot." he scolds, his disappointment evident in his voice. "In this line of work, split-second decisions can mean the difference between life and death. If you waste time thinking what you should do in this situation and don't act quickly, you're not ready for short sleeves."

You hang your head, chastened by Tim's words. You know he's right—you can't afford to freeze up when lives are on the line. But, when the tension between you and him reaches a fever pitch, the air is thick with frustration and unspoken desires. You can feel your heart racing as you meet Tim's intense gaze, a mixture of defiance and attraction swirling in your chest.

"I had everything under control," you insist, trying to stand your ground against Tim's scolding, but your voice betrays the hint of uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface.

Beneath your bravado, Tim senses the fear lurking just beneath the surface, and it ignites a fierce protectiveness within him. "If you hesitated one more second, you'd be dead right now, Officer Y/L/N" he snaps back, the urgency in his voice betraying the depth of his concern for your safety.

Tim wants to push you, to test your limits and see what you're truly capable of. But as he reaches for his weapon, a part of him hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. His eyes lock onto yours with a challenge, and you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline course through your veins.

"I'm an armed suspect. Show me what you've got. Take me into custody," he commands, the teasing edge to his voice doing little to mask the underlying tension between you.

But before you can second-guess yourself any further, you square your jaw and cross your arms in defiance. "Make me," you retort, voice laced with a mix of sass and annoyance at Tim's constant tests.

A smirk tugs at the corners of Tim's lips as he steps closer, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the danger, despite the risks, he can't deny the thrill of the challenge, the electric spark of attraction that crackles between you.

"I'll show you tonight how to properly use the handcuffs. What do you say?" he teases, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them, fueled by a potent mix of desire and adrenaline.

Your breath catches in her throat, your cheeks flushing with heat as you meet Tim's gaze head-on. "After dinner. And that's on you," you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument as you holds his gaze with unwavering determination.

"Deal," Tim concedes, a playful glint in his eye as he leans in closer, the promise of what's to come hanging between you like a tangible force.

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charbroiledchicken · 2 months ago

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GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT FOR THE SECOND TIME.

before act 2 is released can i just say i have a really off feeling about maddie. she hasn't done anything bad, per se, but something about her doesn't sit right with me.

#maddie nolan when i catch you #arcane s2 #arcane s2 spoilers #arcane lol #arcane #maddie arcane #arcane season 2 #maddie nolan

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gothsoyl · 3 months ago

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"good girl"

maddie nolan x reader

word count: 750 summary: you were working with maddie as partners when you were suddenly attacked by people from underground. everything is fine now, right? so why do you feel guilty?

note: she's my ultimate good girl

“Look at you... look like you've been to hell,” a grimace appears on your face while you gently wipe Maddie's soiled face: blood, dust and dirt have mixed into one black-red mixture and she hisses slightly when you pass a wet handkerchief over her delicate skin.

“You don't look any better,” she remarks with a soft smile and you can't tell if it's the blush on her cheeks or if she's just been beaten up really well.

Not much time passed after the remaining consuls were attacked by people from zaun, in broad daylight in a huge crowd. The victims have already been treated, but you two had time to catch your breath.

Your fingers were still shaking from nerves and the fear you felt when one of the goons grabbed Maddie and you couldn't even move. You felt helpless for the first time in your life. So many years of study and work for what? So that in the situation you were training for, you couldn't react?

“That's enough,” Maddie suddenly frowns, noticing how deep you've sunk into your thoughts. You don't listen, you just shake your head, continuing to wipe the blood from her face. Her voice is a little louder the next moment, “I said enough is enough!”

She suddenly grabs your wrist, stopping you from moving. Your eyes widen a little in surprise and you stare blankly at her, not understanding what's the matter.

For a while, you just sit in silence, exchanging glances – hers, stern, but at the same time giving off eternal warmth, and yours, completely lost and full of guilt.

“What if you were killed?” you suddenly whisper, and your eyebrows twitch slightly in surprise at your own words. Maddie is silent – her lips are pursed in a thin line, “I hesitated. I should have been faster. I thought I could...”

“But I'm alive,” Maddie interrupts quietly and sighs, leaning a little closer, as if it's hard for her to keep her back straight, as they taught at the academy, “so you made it.”

You look away, but the words on your tongue are spinning disgustingly. It feels like Maddie doesn't understand. Yes, you did it this time, but what will happen next? When will you freeze again? What if you're not so lucky anymore?

You want to say so much, but there's a lump in your throat.

You don't look at Maddie, but you feel her suddenly running her fingers over your wrist, bringing your hand closer to her face and leaving a barely perceptible kiss on your knuckles.

It may be difficult to tell if there is a blush on her cheeks or not, but you are definitely blushing very pleasantly.

“You're a good girl,” she whispers, leaving another kiss on her knuckles. Her lips slowly slide to your fingers, and you involuntarily drop the handkerchief on the floor, feeling how gently she treats you.

“You too...” and why did you say that? it sounds so awkward and you bite your lip when she hums faintly, blowing lightly on your fingers. you hesitate (as always), but still take your hand away from her lips, lightly stroking the places where her lips were with the fingers of your other hand. Your voice seems even quieter than before, “Don't. They're dirty.”

“As if I should care at this moment,” a chuckle escapes Maddie's lips and for some reason you do understand how funny it was. You’re both sitting around the ruins, somewhere in the distance you can hear the voices of people and colleagues, you have just survived an attack, and you are worried about dirty fingers?

Maddie sighs and picks up a handkerchief from the floor, brushing it a little from the dust, and bends over to you. With the fingers of her free hand, she takes your chin, turning your face towards her before gently wiping the dirt off it. Just like you did.

“if you're so concerned about hygiene,” she began with a slightly sly smile, making you arch an eyebrow questioningly, “we can report to the general the situation and go to my place to wash up. Does it sound good?”

“Only if you wash me personally,” for some reason you feel a little bolder and the burden of responsibility on your shoulders does not seem so heavy. You even move a little closer to her, feeling your shoulders touching.

Maddie licks her split lip, strange lights in her eyes play before the final nod.

“Then it's a deal.”

#arcane 2 #arcane #maddie nolan #wlw #wlw writing #arcane writing #maddie nolan x reader #arcane x reader #sol writing

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atleastpleasetelephone · 1 month ago

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53. holding the other’s jaw with Greg Nolan please 🫶🏾

A/N: Yessssss Greg!! This is just a little drabble.

Afters

Pairing: Greg Nolan x housewife!reader

Word count: 729

TWs: Reader cries, there's a little bit of dirty talk. Think that's it!

Greg shrugs his jacket on and straightens his tie. “Gotta go, baby.”

You’ve literally just pulled a pot pie out of the oven, and you huff in frustration as you place it on the pot holder. Putting the oven mitts on the side, you smooth your apron down over your dress and try to keep it together. Turning around with your best attempt at a smile.

“But it’s dinner time, Greg.”

This is the third time this week he’s had to go back to work in the evening. You’re starting to get worried.

“Sorry, baby. Have to get this photoshoot done.”

He grabs his camera bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“But I made chicken pot pie. It’s your favourite.” You know you sound whiny but you can’t help it. Tears are shining in your eyes but he’s too busy grabbing the things he needs to notice.

Stepping towards you, he kisses the top of your head lovingly. “I’m sure it’ll be just as good warmed up later, honey.”

“N-no it won’t!” You exclaim, frustrated and upset. “You know it won’t! It’s better now, just out of the oven!” Tears spill down your face as you rage about the pie, hands balling into fists.

Greg blinks in surprise. He knows you like to cook, and you like to spoil him with your delicious food, but he didn’t think you’d be so upset about a pot pie. He wipes your tears with a thumb.

“C’mon darlin’. I promise I’ll love the pie just as much when I come back later.”

You push his hand away, angrily. “It’s not about the pie!”

“It’s… not?”

“You don’t love me anymore, do you? You’re seeing someone else.” It comes out in a rush and you tremble with emotion.

Your lower lip wobbles, and then suddenly you’re really sobbing, body shaking as the tears flow down your cheeks, bringing your hands to your face to try and control it but it’s far beyond control at this point. All of your fears and insecurities come pouring out of you in the form of salty water. You’ve always been a little worried that you’re not pretty enough for Greg, but ever since he started the late nights at work, coming home and going out again, you’ve been convinced that he’s found someone better. No-one needs to do this much photography, surely?

Greg is shocked, letting his bag fall off his shoulder and catching it just in time to place it on the floor. How on earth can you think he doesn’t love you anymore? Because of the pie?

He gently prises your hands away from your face and sets them by your sides, before raising his large hand to your jaw, holding it gently. When you keep looking down, sniffing, he carefully tilts your face towards his. Your eyes find his blue ones, reluctantly.

“What makes ya think that, baby?” He asks, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible.

You groan. “All these late nights. You can’t be taking photos. Unless they’re photos of some other girl.”

He blinks slowly. Well, he is taking photos of other girls, that’s his job. But he decides now isn’t the time to be literal.

“I promise you I’m jus’ doin’ my job. The new boss is fussier than the old one and he keeps wantin’ things redone. And tomorrow mornin’ is the deadline for publishin’. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want ta work either.” He looks deep into your eyes as his grip on your jaw tightens. “Can’t think of anything I’d like ta do more than eat your gorgeous home-cookin’ and then put ya between my legs under the dining table for your desert…”

You stop crying abruptly as warmth spreads between your own legs. “R-really?”

“Really, baby.” His thumb brushes over your lips. “I haveta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can for that dinner.” He wiggles an eyebrow suggestively. “And afters.” Pressing a kiss to your lips he pulls back a little, his hand still on your jaw, making sure he’s got your full attention. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Greg," you whisper, reassured.

“You’re the only one for me, baby,” he tells you as he lets your jaw go, reluctantly, and picks his bag back up again. “I’ll be thinkin’ of ya waiting here for me.”

***

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