Aftershock: Bradford's Barbie
Aftershock: Bradford's Barbie
Main Masterlist | The Rookie Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Tim Bradford x younger!reader
Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: You and Tim are not dating. But also aren't not dating. Until he pulls back, you shut down and every feeling comes crashing down on you both.
Angst to fluff
Warnings: description of gunshots maybe? not proofread yet
Words: -
It didn’t start with fireworks. Or candlelight. Or anything remotely poetic.
It started with a crash.
Not the earthquake kind, not this time. Just you—exhausted, makeup smudged, hair in a bun that had declared war hours ago—falling asleep on his couch after a late-night takeout run and a shared bottle of whiskey neither of you meant to finish.
You woke up tangled in his arms. The next morning, you told yourself it was a one-time thing.
It wasn’t.
Somehow, in between shifts and field assignments, takeout orders and inside jokes, it became a routine. Your body in his bed. His scent on your clothes. His lips on your skin, hot and heavy in the silence after dark. And, weirdly, you slept better at his place. He did too, not that he ever said it out loud.
You weren’t dating.
You weren’t not dating, either.
Tim called it “convenient.” You called it “friends with benefits.” Lucy called it “a catastrophe waiting to happen,” though she didn’t know the half of it.
Because somewhere between him calling you a menace and you calling him a fossil—somewhere between him brushing your hair off your face and you learning how he liked his coffee—you started catching feelings.
Like a dumbass.
And the worst part? You didn’t even mean to. It just… happened. The way feelings do. Quiet at first, like a hairline crack. Then spreading, splitting, splitting, splitting.
Until something inside you started to break.
You told him once.
Sort of.
A few weeks ago, lying in his bed with your cheek pressed to his chest, you’d murmured something dumb and sleepy like, “I think you like me, Bradford.”
He hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t kissed you either.
He’d just gone still.
“Don’t make this complicated,” he’d said finally, voice low. “It’s already risky. You’re… you’re too young. This thing is just for fun. Let’s not pretend it’s more than it is.”
And like a fool, you nodded.
You told yourself you could deal with it.
But here you are, two months later, being reckless all over again.
Because now, thanks to a shiny new contract between LAPD and your father’s construction firm, you’re officially partnered with none other than Timothy “Emotionally Constipated” Bradford.
You might’ve pulled a few strings. Okay, a lot of strings. But in your defense, it was the perfect setup: a project pairing cops with civil engineers to evaluate post-quake building damage. Everyone wins. Especially you.
Except you forgot one detail.
You’re still in love with him.
And he still thinks you’re a goddamn risk.
You’re halfway through assessing a condemned strip mall in East Hollywood when it all goes to hell.
The street’s quiet, a little too quiet, the kind of quiet that prickles under your skin. Tim’s beside you, hand on his vest, eyes scanning every window and alley like he’s waiting for something to jump.
You’re marking a crumbling doorway with bright red chalk when it happens.
A pop.
Then another.
Gunfire.
You drop instantly, instincts kicking in, but not before Tim grabs your shoulder and yanks you behind the rusted frame of a dumpster. His body covers yours, warm and solid, one arm braced against the metal and the other curled around your waist.
“Stay down,” he growls, eyes blazing.
Your heart is beating in your ears, faster than it should. Too fast. His breath is hot on your cheek. His chest rises and falls against your back, firm and steady, while yours feels like it might explode.
And all you can think is: this isn’t casual. This isn’t just “fun.”
This is him shielding you like he’d die for you.
When it’s over—when backup arrives, when the scene clears, when the world rights itself again—you’re sitting on the tailgate of an LAPD shop with an ice pack pressed to your knee and a very pissed-off Tim looming over you.
“You okay?” he asks. The words are tight. Controlled. But his hand won’t stop gripping your thigh.
“I’m good,” you reply lightly. “But damn, Bradford. You almost made me think you caught feelings.”
His jaw ticks. “Don’t.”
“What? Can’t a girl joke around with her—what are we again? Bed buddies?”
He doesn’t answer. Just steps back like your words physically burned him.
You wait for him to say something—anything. But all you get is silence. His walls are up again. Brick by goddamn brick.
You nod, lips tightening.
“Got it.”
You stop texting him after that.
No goodnight emojis. No sarcastic memes. No more midnight rides to each other’s places. You pull out. Clean cut. No drama.
You tell yourself it’s the right thing. The smart thing.
You also start sleeping like crap again.
You expect him to call.
He doesn’t.
You expect him to knock on your door like he always does when things go sideways. Show up with a six-pack and that dumb grumpy look he pretends isn’t fond.
He doesn’t.
Instead, silence.
You last three days before deleting his name from your favorites. Five days before you fold the hoodie he left behind and tuck it in a drawer. Nine before you hear through one of the engineers that he requested a reassignment. A new partner.
The hurt isn’t new.
You just didn’t expect it to land like this. Like a slow tear in your chest every time you turn a corner expecting to see him, but don’t.
Tim is worse.
He doesn’t talk about it. Not to Lucy. Not to Thorsen. Not to Lopez. He just… broods.
He snaps faster. His fuse is shorter. He works more shifts, runs more drills, volunteers for the worst hours.
Lucy notices.
Of course she notices.
“You’ve been insufferable lately,” she says one day while they’re stuck in the locker room post-shift, both drenched in sweat and sun. “Worse than usual.”
Tim grunts, slamming his locker shut harder than necessary. “Just tired.”
“Bullshit.”
He shoots her a look, but she doesn’t back off.
“Is this about her?” Lucy asks casually. Too casually.
Tim stiffens. “What?”
“The blonde. Barbie. Earthquake Barbie. Whatever nickname you gave her in your grumpy little brain.”
Tim says nothing. Just pulls his shirt over his head like the conversation’s over.
It isn’t.
Lucy leans against the row of lockers, arms crossed. “Look, I didn’t want to get involved, but you’re spiraling. And when Tim Bradford spirals, people start punching walls and doing push-ups until their triceps cry for help.”
Tim’s voice is low. “She’s fine.”
“She’s not talking to you.”
“She doesn’t have to.”
Lucy raises an eyebrow. “So you were hooking up.”
He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t even flinch.
Lucy whistles. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Tim exhales slowly, resting his forehead against the cool metal. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything.”
“But?”
He hesitates.
Lucy watches him carefully. “But?”
“I don’t know,” he says finally. “She got under my skin.”
Lucy nods. “Yeah. That tends to happen when you’re in love.”
Tim turns to her, eyes flinty. “It wasn’t love.”
“Sure.”
“She’s almost twenty years younger than me.”
“And?”
“She’s reckless. She pulled strings to partner with me.”
“She also stood her ground during a live gunfire incident and patched your hand when you busted your knuckles punching a brick wall.”
Tim doesn’t respond.
Lucy softens. “Look. I don’t know what happened between you two. But I’ve known you long enough to know when someone’s got you twisted in knots. Go to her. Fix it.”
It takes him until midnight.
You’re not surprised when he knocks.
You hear the heavy sound of his boots on the hallway first—then the pause, then the knock. He doesn’t knock like a neighbor. He knocks like someone who built you into his routine and doesn’t know how to function without it.
But you don’t answer.
You sit cross-legged on the couch, hoodie pulled over your knees, and sip from a lukewarm mug of tea you don’t even like.
You hear the second knock. Then his sigh. Then silence.
“I know you’re there,” he says through the door, voice low and rough. “You’re loud in heels. But I swear—you’re louder barefoot.”
Your heart stutters.
You stay quiet.
He exhales, palm pressing to the door.
“I didn’t mean to push you away.”
You roll your eyes. “You didn’t push me away, Bradford. You made it very clear where I stand. Or don’t stand.”
He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Yeah. I’m a dumbass.”
You don’t deny it.
Tim leans closer. “I just… I didn’t want to ruin what we had. And I thought keeping it casual would keep it safe.”
You raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. “Casual? You kissed my shoulder when you thought I was asleep. You stocked your fridge with my favorite iced coffee.”
Silence.
“Casual my ass,” you mutter.
You still don’t open the door. You hear his exhale through the wood.
“I didn’t mean that,” he says, quieter this time. “You know I didn’t.”
You hate that his voice still does that to you. That low rumble laced with something vulnerable. Something only you ever get from him—when no one’s watching. Not Lucy. Not his team. Not his goddamn conscience.
“You said I wasn’t worth the risk,” you remind him, because he needs to hear it. Needs to sit with the way it burned through you like acid.
A pause.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
Silence.
You wait. The kind of silence where seconds stretch until they feel like bruises. He doesn’t answer, and that tells you enough.
You move to the door, pressing your back against it, still not ready to open it. “Go home, Tim.”
“I am home,” he says softly, and fuck. Fuck him for saying that.
The ache spreads. It’s not even anger anymore. It’s that thing you hate admitting even to yourself. Longing.
You press your palms to your eyes. “You don’t get to say that.”
Another pause.
“Okay. Fine. You won’t talk to me?”
You don’t answer. You don’t have to.
He must hear the way your breath hitches through the door, because his next words come sharp.
“Then I’ll make you talk.”
The knock stops. The silence twists.
Then the click of the door handle turning, slow—because you forgot to lock it. You never lock it when you expect him.
The door opens, and there he is.
Post-shift, tired eyes, hand still on the doorknob like he’s giving you one last second to throw him out.
You don’t.
He steps in and shuts the door behind him.
You’re still in your hoodie, hair up in that messy knot he always said made you look like you “tried not to look hot,” and failed.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just drinks you in. Quiet, serious, unreadable. Then, in three strides, he’s in front of you, his hand tilting your chin up.
“I fucked up.”
You blink. “You think?”
He doesn’t smile. He just leans in—closer than he’s let himself in weeks.
“Say something.”
You don’t. You won’t.
So he does what Tim Bradford always does when he’s cornered by emotion—
He acts.
His lips crash into yours before you can say another word. It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate. Like he’s trying to apologize with every breath he pulls from you.
Your hands fist in his shirt before your brain catches up. Before your heart can argue. Because you’ve missed this. Him. The heat. The feel of his body like a shield and a furnace all at once.
He pulls back just far enough to murmur, “You’re mine.”
You open your mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to fall apart—but he kisses you again before the words come.
“Say it,” he breathes against your skin, kissing down your jaw. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you whisper, dazed, breathless, undone. “And you’re mine as well.”
His hands tighten around your waist, like he’s trying to ground himself to the words. Like you’ve said something dangerous, holy.
“I’ve been yours,” he says hoarsely, “since the moment I met you, Barbie doll.”
Your knees nearly give out.
He lifts you—effortlessly—and carries you to the couch, laying you down like you’re something fragile and irreplaceable.
This isn’t just sex anymore.
This is everything that’s been building. All the friction, the denial, the tension that snapped the moment he let himself feel.
The hoodie is the first thing to go. His hands slow, reverent. Like he’s memorizing the shape of you.
He kisses your chest, your neck, your mouth again. “I don’t care about the age gap,” he murmurs. “Or the job. Or the risk. I care about you.”
You close your eyes and arch into him. He’s not just making love to you. He’s choosing you. Out loud. Without hesitation.
And the best part is—you’re finally choosing him back.
The next morning, sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir, feeling the steady rhythm of Tim’s heartbeat beneath your cheek.
“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Morning.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “So, does this mean we’re official or something?”
You chuckle. “I think last night made that pretty clear.”
He grins, pulling you closer. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”
You nestle into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t known you were missing.
And in that moment, everything feels right.
More Posts from Myfictionalbfs and Others
It’s so criminal when you start watching a new show/movie, and realize after you are already in love with yet another fictional character, that there’s no fanfics at all.
I need people to start writing for Aldon Reese from Fubar and Patrick Jane from the Mentalist. Plssss
Mr. Barber’s Assistant | Andy Barber
Summary: After Jacob’s Trial everything had changed for Andy Barber. He lost his wife, he almost lost his job and his son. Nothing seemed right in his life. Nothing but YOU.
Word Count: 16,090 (Sorry kids, it’s a long one.)
Warnings: Some Spoilers from Defending Jacob. Mentions of a car accident. Interoffice Romance. Brief mentions of a murder. unprotected sex, Multiple Point of Views. Boss|Assistant dynamic. Cursing. Mentions of cheating. Divorce. Mentions of being in the hospital. Laurie being a bitch. Neal being an asshole. Angry|Andy. pet names. Over protective Andy. Marking!Kink. Having a crush on your boss. Idiots in love with each other. keeping secrets. Mentions of Drinking. Self Doubt. Dirty Talk. Very Brief Hand job (if you squint.). fingering. Oral (f). edging (if you squint.). Consensual Sex. Regret. Second thoughts. Jealous Neal. Slightly possessive Andy. Brief Mention of Andy Getting Himself Off. Teasing. Mentions of Spanking. Mentions of mental health. Bipolar disorder. borderline personality disorder. Over protective Dad!Andy. Guilt about feeling happy. Toxic misogynistic male behavior. Some Ex-Wife Drama. Getting punched in the face.(PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING)
A|N: Hello! Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who reads this and or any of my stories. I hope you enjoy. please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Also I apologize for the length of this one I kind of got carried away. :) enjoy friends. (Pics for the moodboard came from pinterest. I do not own.)
“Assistant District Attorney; Andy Barber?” a voice from behind you calls. You turn around to see a tall gentleman standing there behind you. There was silence for a minute before you spoke. “Mr. Logiudice, Mr. Barber is in a meeting with the DA.” you say, a firm tone in your voice. He smirked. Like you had just said something funny. Which you had not. “Doll, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Neal.” he stepped towards you.. The door to Andy’s Office swings open. Thank god. You exhale. “Leave her alone Neal, how many times do I have to TELL you…” Andy turns and gives you a flirty wink and nod. You couldn’t help but blush. You sit back behind your desk. Neal sighs, rolling his eyes. “Besides Neal, you’re not her type anyways.” he shoots a blue eyed gaze your way and you practically melt into your chair, biting your lip.
You weren’t going to lie. You had a crush on the ADA… who didn’t? He was incredibly gorgeous, smart, powerful and sweet as hell, but don’t fuck with him. He didn’t take shit from anyone and everyone knew it. You’d been ADA Barber’s assistant for five years and well it had been a rough last couple of years for him, especially with his son’s trial, and the aftermath of it, his father, through getting divorced from his wife, the accident, the long nights spent at the hospital with Jacob in a coma. It had been a pretty fucked up time for Andy to put it midly. But through everything you always stuck by him, no matter what he needed you were there for him; you’d developed a pretty close friendship. and he never forgot what you’d done for him.
Keep reading
Upcoming The Rookie series.
A/N: I’m not a committed writer, nor do I promise consistent posts. I don’t expect anyone to read my fics either, I’m kinda just writing what I want because I’m quite literally addicted to The Rookie right now and need a outlet with all these scenarios in my head. But, in saying so, I don’t mind requests, so if you have one, don’t be afraid to submit some.
Last Updated: 2/23/25
❀ = Fluff ✸ = Angst ☆ = Suggestive ✮ = NSFW 〤 = Platonic ! = Ongoing
Like Father, Like Rookie !
Tim Bradford x Rookie!Reader [PLATONIC] 〤
Summary: Being the youngest rookie in Mid-Wilshire so far—let alone being Tim’s rookie, everyone either looked out for you, or was determined to prevent whatever disasters were bound to come with your youth. But to Tim, you were his mini him. And he honestly couldn’t tell if it was a curse or a blessing.
Episodes: Not in the Rook Book. ❀ Stay here. ❀ / ✸
Tape
Description: Bruce and Y/N’s sex tape leaked
Warnings: Cursing, sex tape, suggestive,
Word Count:0.8k
“Bruce, wake up,” Y/N startled her husband awake. Normally she tried to let Bruce get at least four hours of sleep but this was an emergency.
“What? I’m up,” Bruce’s first thought was either the Manor was on fire or one of the kids was about to set the Manor on fire. He knew Y/N shaking him awake meant something bad had happened.
“It leaked,” Y/N speaking in vague terms didn’t help Bruce relax in this situation. He was much too tired to attempt to decipher whatever she was talking about.
Keep reading
Stay in the Car
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader
Summary: Tim disappears from the station, and you and Aaron have to find him. After a heroic leap of faith, you save him in more ways than one.
Warnings: this is inspired by a scene in 6x10 but there's no story spoilers, angst, implied abduction and drug trafficking, injuries, fluff
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
It’s been a slow day in the Mid-Wilshire station. You and your husband Tim were called back to assist with a case, but so far, all you’ve done is sort through paperwork.
“I thought we had rookies for this kind of thing,” you whisper conspiratorially.
“They’re busy babysitting crime scenes,” Tim replies.
You nod as you slide the last form into its proper place. Tim pushes his empty box away and sighs. Now there’s truly nothing to do.
“So, this is where the party is,” Aaron teases as he and Nolan return.
“Yeah,” you agree sarcastically. “It’s a rager, as you can see.”
The detective you’ve been assisting gathers his papers and thanks you quickly. Alone and bored again, you ask Aaron how the streets are today.
“Quiet. Not so much as a speeding ticket so far,” he tells you as he collapses into the seat beside you.
“The Q-word,” Nolan reminds him. “Make sure Harper isn’t around before you use it.”
Tim shakes his head and digs his phone out of his pocket. You tap your foot against his leg under the table, but as his brows draw together, he doesn’t look up at you.
“You alright?” you ask him.
“I have to go.” Tim stands as he speaks, and only spares a glance in your direction.
“Where?”
Tim jogs toward the door as he answers, and you can’t make out part of what he says. It sounds like laundry then, "I love you."
“What’s that about?” Nolan asks.
“No idea. Someone must’ve called for backup,” you guess.
“Probably someone at Hollywood. They’re getting calls.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Aaron nods at you as you stand. When you walk out of the station you see Tim’s truck and his shop still parked in their usual spots. You walk past both vehicles, but there’s no sign of him.
“You lookin’ for the cop that just walked out?” a man on the sidewalk asks.
“Yes, I am. Did you see where he went?” you reply.
“Guy led him to a truck. Figured they were friends or somethin’.”
Your eyes widen as your heart rate increases. Tim wouldn’t have just left while on duty without telling you. To provide backup, sure, but not to get in a truck with a civilian.
“Did you see the truck? Where it went?” you question.
“Nah, miss. Sorry.”
You run back inside and straight to Aaron. Nolan is no longer waiting with him, but Aaron has nothing but time, and you need to find your husband.
“Did you drive to work today?” you ask him.
“Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Why?”
“We need to go. Tim just left and might need backup. He’s not on a call, though.”
“Just take a shop.”
“No, Aaron. I don’t know where he is or who he’s with, and I don’t need to spook anyone into killing him!” you exclaim.
Aaron makes no move to hand over his keys, but you need a personally owned vehicle to stay incognito. Tim has his truck keys, so you need to convince Aaron to help you; if not for you, for Tim.
“Aaron, keys!” you demand.
“We don’t even know where they’re going,” Aaron argues.
“And we won’t find Tim if we don’t do something.” You take a deep breath and run your thumb over your wedding band. “I can’t lose him, Aaron.”
“I know,” he assures. “But I’m going with you. Tim needs all of us. Whatever that text was must've been important.”
Aaron waves as he steps past you, and you follow him to the parking area. When he removes a leather key fob from his pocket and you see a Lamborghini sitting in his spot, you momentarily forget about Tim and his sudden disappearance.
“Aaron, we can’t…” you begin.
“Forget about the car. Let’s go!”
You climb into the passenger seat as Aaron starts the car with an obnoxious rev of the engine.
“Habit,” he murmurs as he pulls the gear shift into reverse. “Where are we going?”
“It’s been at least fifteen minutes since he walked out. They could be miles in any direction by now,” you reply.
“But they wouldn’t have gone anywhere, right?” Aaron asks as he looks both ways to turn. “It may have been last-minute, but they had a plan.”
“What did he say when he left?”
“That he loved you.”
“No, before that.”
“Oh, uhm.” Aaron pauses to think as he passes a truck going under the speed limit. “Something about a laundromat, I think.”
“Did he say laundromat, laundering, or laundry?”
“What’s the difference? Besides washing clothes and the illegal money trade, I mean.”
“Landry,” you realize aloud. “He said Landry as in Pierre Landry!”
“Okay,” Aaron replies. “Who is that?”
“Head toward the Hills.”
“Finally,” Aaron mumbles.
“One more favour?” you request.
“Anything, you know that.”
“Drive this car like you want to. Grey alerted dispatch that we took a POV.”
“Now that’s a favour I’d love to do.”
You sit back in the passenger seat as Aaron shifts into another gear. He swerves in and out of traffic as you think of your husband. Tim has to be safe, because you’ll lose yourself if he’s not.
“What exactly is the plan?” Aaron asks.
You snap yourself out of your racing thoughts of Tim to say, “I’ll know when I see it.”
Aaron nods to himself, but you can tell he’s not convinced. Your plan certainly isn’t detailed, probably not even smart, yet you have to trust that it’ll work. It has to work.
“Slow down,” you tell Aaron. “See the brown truck in the right lane, thirty yards ahead?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron answers. “Oh.”
The back window is broken out and the driver is swerving within the boundaries of his lane, but you can’t see why. When the truck drifts toward the car in the next lane, they hit their brakes and lay on the horn. Aaron swings into the lane behind the truck and ignores the people who honk at him.
With the new vantage point, you see a gun in the bed of the truck. As you lean toward Aaron’s dash to get a better look, you see two people moving in the cab. The driver raises a knife, and then they duck down toward the seat again as he swerves toward the barrier between the lanes. The truck moves over a lane, and the surrounding traffic has given him plenty of room to wreck without harming anyone. The new bumper surrounding the erratic (and armed) truck driver provides the perfect opportunity.
“Get beside him,” you tell Aaron. “But not too close. Stay away from his door.”
He nods and speeds up to drive into the lane beside the truck. You toll your window down and unclip your seatbelt as Aaron’s car lines up with the truck bed.
“What are you doing?” Aaron yells over the wind.
You pull yourself through the narrow window to sit atop the door. “Saving my husband!” you answer loudly. “Keep it steady and fall back the minute I jump.”
“But you-“
“Thorsen!” you interrupt. “Fall back the minute I jump. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You raise your hands to the hood of his car and carefully pull your knees up. When your right foot reaches the door, you push yourself to stand and use your hands to stay steady. You count down in your head 3, 2, 1, and then you jump. Aaron hits the brakes and the distance between you and him increases quickly.
When you hit the truck bed, you roll before you catch yourself. With a calculated movement, you wait until it swerves again to push yourself up and toward the broken back window. Pushed against the body at the back of the cab, you reach your arms inside and grab the driver’s arm. It isn’t until you push yourself in further that you actually see Tim. Tim’s eyes meet yours, and he exhales sharply as you pull the driver back against his seat.
“Move,” you tell Tim.
He pulls himself up from the floorboard and into the passenger seat. The driver finds his knife again and begins slinging it aimlessly over his shoulder, aiming for you. Tim doesn’t hesitate to move across the cab of the truck and pull the driver’s hands away from you.
“Tim!” you warn as the truck begins drifting toward the curb.
You keep your arms locked around the driver’s shoulders but watch Tim. He takes a deep breath and leans back. As he shoves his feet against the man’s side, he grimaces in pain but doesn’t stop. The momentum knocks the driver against the door beside him and his foot slides off the gas pedal. You move your left arm to his neck and hold him tightly as you reach for the steering wheel with your right.
Tim slips forward again to avoid a punch from the driver and extends his arm toward the brake pedal. He groans as he pushes it to the floor, and you use all of your strength to pull the driver back and away from Tim. The truck lurches to a quick stop and you turn so that your side makes impact with the broken window frame rather than your face or chest.
Sirens sound behind you and grow louder quickly now that you aren’t moving. The driver reaches for something under his seat, but you grab the gun that slid forward in the truck bed and aim it at his temple.
“Drop it,” you command. “Now.”
Tim groans again as he sits up, but he keeps his eyes on the man you’re holding. You loosen your grip and open the driver’s side door so the approaching officers can get him out and into custody. He takes the opportunity to roll out, but Aaron pulls up beside him before he can push himself up and run.
“That was amazing!” Aaron applauds as he exits his car.
Tim hisses in pain, and you turn toward him quickly.
“That was dumb,” he argues.
“Are you okay?” you ask him.
Tim cradles his arm but nods. You hop over the side of the bed and open the passenger door. Tim leans toward you as you lay your hand on his shoulder.
“Where’s Landry?” Nyla asks as she and Angela run toward the truck.
“Whoa,” Angela interjects. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Driver didn’t say much, but he radioed that he would meet someone at John Anson,” Tim answers.
“Get an ambulance,” Angela tells a passing officer.
“John Anson Ford? The theater?” Nyla clarifies.
You tune out their conversation as you squat beside the truck. Tim’s boots are scuffed from breaking the window, but other than the scrapes you can see and his arm, he seems relatively fine. You release a relieved, albeit shaky, breath as you stand.
“It’s not high season for the theater,” you add. “Landry could be using it as a distribution base for his new product.”
“He’ll get suspicious when reckless back there doesn’t show,” Tim says.
“We’ll send someone in,” Nyla assures him. “You’re going to the hospital.”
“Don’t,” Angela warns when Tim opens his mouth. “Argue with your wife about it.”
She winks at you as she and Nyla walk toward the other officers waiting behind you. The ambulance navigates through the crowd of police cars and officers, and you look into Tim’s eyes.
“You scared me,” you murmur, taking his hand.
“You jumped from a moving car onto another moving car, but you want to play that card?” Tim challenges.
“Are you really okay?” you ask.
“I promise. There is one thing I’d like you to do- two, maybe.”
You nod quickly, and Tim looks over your shoulder at the approaching EMTs.
“Go finish this case, and make sure it’s over.”
“Tim, I-“
“I need to know. And you do too.”
“Okay,” you agree. “What’s the second thing?”
Tim tips his chin up, and you smile before you kiss him gently. He moves his good arm toward your waist, but you step back.
“You’re sure?” you check.
Tim nods, and you demand that he keep you updated as you step back.
“I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you,” he replies. “Get Landry.”
You salute Tim and smile when he rolls his eyes. Tim will give the paramedics a hard time, but he’s safe, and that’s all that matters.
“Grey,” you call as you enter the bullpen.
“Thank goodness,” he sighs. “Everything wrapped up?”
“Detectives are closing the case as we speak, and Landry is already booked and processed. We also grabbed two distributors who already had product on them.”
“Then get out of here.” Wade smiles as he adds, “And take your husband with you.”
You furrow your brows. Tim should be at the hospital still; it’s only been a few hours since you left him with the EMTs. Wade points toward the roll call room, and you see your husband sitting against a table with his arm in a sling.
Without another word, you walk away from Sergeant Grey and toward Tim. He looks up when you open the door, and his shoulders drop when he sees you.
“We got Landry,” you say before he asks.
“I’m fine,” Tim tells you, sensing that you have a question too.
“Good. Ready to go home?”
“As long as you’ll stay in the car this time,” Tim jokes.
He stands, and you hug under his uninjured arm. You feel him relax before his wraps his arm around you and ducks his head toward your shoulder.
“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“I love you, Tim,” you whisper. “But don’t ever make me do that again. You walked out and then you were gone.”
“Hey.” Tim waits until you look at him to finish, “Never again.”
You kiss him quickly and then step back and take his hand. “I promise to stay in the car all the way home if we can get food on the way.”
Tim rolls his eyes, but the way he keeps you close as you walk to his truck – which you have to drive now – makes you think he really was just as worried about you as you were for him.
✰ f!reader x gojo ✰ actor!gojo, dryhumping, (semi)public sex (??) ++ based off this post i made.. raise ur hand if ur also freaky about gojo 🙇♀️🙋♀️ wc: 1.8k ✰
“god, i want you so bad.”
satoru reads out his line to you, his voice loud but only slightly muffled against the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. you roll your head back in response, letting it thump against the pillow underneath you as you looked up at the ceiling.
although, the sight you’re met with when you do— the sight of a large microphone hanging just a few feet above your bodies —only serves to remind you that this is all for show. a scene in a movie. you opt to close your eyes and tighten your grip on the back of his head instead.
with your mouth hanging open, it’s easy to huff out a few pants and soft moans, doing as was directed for the character you’re meant to be playing after all. you know very well satoru’s doing the same for his own character— but there’s an additional component to the scene, one that only you know of.
the additional component is hiding below the bedsheets draped over your partially nude bodies— unbeknownst to the entire crew on set —pressing against your clothed crotch and growing inside his own pants the longer he nips at your neck.
you moaned his name, arching your back into his touch. letting him know you felt him.
there’s a brief moment— a blissful moment —where you forget you’re both supposed to be filming a sex scene. not until he hoists himself up, hovering himself over your body and staring down at you with stormy eyes; what’s normally a clear blue sky in his irises was now clouded by lust.
it’s not until you spot the bright studio lights shining above him that you’re reminded where you both are.
“are you ready?” he asks you, as per the script. when he speaks he bends down to nip at your jawline and his hands move underneath the sheets, trailing sensually across your torso. he lifts his head back up and bites his lip, waits for your nod, and then he slowly sinks his full body weight onto yours once again. reaching his hand down in between your bodies, he mimics the act of himself gripping his own cock and lining it up with your entrance before slowly sinking into you. the cameras zero in on this momentous part of the whole scene.
what he does next is… not part of the script.
with the hand currently hovering between his body and yours, he presses it forward, cupping your mound through the fabric of your clothing (thin nude-colored tights, meant to blend in with your skin tone— even coupled with your underwear underneath it makes just the smallest barrier between his fingers and where you think his fingers should actually be).
his touch is featherlight at first, tracing the outline of your underwear and gradually applying more pressure as he reaches your slit. he massages his index and middle finger up and down over your cunt, making a V-shape to trail them both along your folds before bending his wrist further and applying pressure to your clit with his thumb, eliciting a genuine gasp out of you.
he bites his lip again, but this time it’s to bite back the smirk threatening to take over his expression. he starts to lift his hips up just a little before bringing them back down, simulating the act of him thrusting inside of you— meanwhile his fingers don’t let up on your clit below the sheets.
completely hidden from the cameras.
your eyelids flutter, and a moan slips past your lips before you can rationally consider it. the timing actually worked out perfectly for the scene, though; in the corner of your eye, you’re sure you just saw the director nodding his head at you.
satoru continues rubbing you through your tights, picking up his pace right as your own breathing starts to pick up as well. if he were to press his thumb any harder against your cunt he’d be able to feel the wetness already pooling up; it would probably soak through the fabric a little bit and coat the pad of his thumb with your scent.
your jaw goes slack and satoru moans at the sight— but whether or not he’s still in character is unknown to you by this point.
“fuck— you feel s’good,” he moans out, letting up on his ministrations to plant his hands flat on each side of your shoulders. you whined softly in protest at the absence of his touch before he pressed himself even closer to you. shaky hands move up to grip onto his biceps for purchase just as his head falls into the crook of your neck, his mouth open against your skin with every hot pant he exhales. his hard bulge lands directly on top of your crotch and pulls tandem moans from you two.
it’s at this point that his character would probably be expected to pick up his pace, but you’ve completely given up on keeping track of the scene by now. satoru starts to move his hips at a steadier rhythm, only now he’s actually grinding himself into your heat. the bed frame starts to rock against the set wall with his movements, and you can both feel and hear how heavily he breathes— he’s certain to ensure the microphones pick up on it, too.
“satoru, god—“ you moaned out, digging your nails into his arms and squeezing your eyes shut. he grinds his clothed cock against your cunt, whimpering every time he feels the friction of his movements against you on his already-leaky tip.
there’s a temporary moment where his hips stutter, the grinding sensation feeling too good for his brain to keep up, and you feel him press his head deeper into your neck. his teeth sink into your skin to ground himself, sucking hard at the pulse point on your neck and leaving red indents with how hard he bites you, making you cry out his name once more.
(you count your lucky stars that the character he’s playing has the same name as him, because you’re not sure you’d be able to moan the correct name for filming had they been different.)
“fuuuck, fuck—“ he whines, his voice loud enough for the mic to hear. he lifts his head up to take a look at your expression— how you furrow your brows, your mouth hanging open indefinitely for the symphony of noises he’s pulling from you, the flutter in your eyelids when you open them to meet his gaze.
he smirks again and slows down his pace to a sensual grind, rolling his hips in circles and huffing out a chuckle when your head lolls back once more.
some members of the production crew share a look with each other when they see him slow down; as far as they’re concerned, he just extended the original length of the scene with a little bit of improv.
there’s nothing wrong with an actor sprinkling in some adjustments during filming, after all.
satoru dips his head down again, tilting his head to hide his face as well as he can before nipping at your earlobe.
“open your eyes,” he rasps with a tone so quiet the microphones didn’t catch it. “i want you to look at them when you cum, let them see how nasty you are for getting off in front of all these people, in front of all your colleagues.”
your eyes open before the words even register in your head, and the moment they do you’re catching sight of all the crew members watching you two— all your coworkers. you press your forehead against satoru’s shoulder before your eyes could roll to the back of your head and you let out a shamelessly loud moan.
“heh,” he huffs, his voice now back to its regular volume. “you liked that, huh?” he coos, picking up the pace of his grinding once more. the simple whine you respond with makes his dick twitch pathetically in his pants.
it doesn’t take much longer before your own hips start bucking up to meet his, your breathing now much faster and louder— a sign of your impending orgasm. feeling you grind yourself back into him makes him moan again, and he bites his lip hard to quell the sudden tightening he felt low in his gut; he’ll be damned if he cums before you.
from the corner of his eye, the director is silently saluting your performance, nodding his head in approval when he sees you start to fuck up against satoru. to him— and everyone else on set —this is, arguably, one of the better sex performances they’ve ever seen.
(it’s maybe even a little too convincing.)
satoru’s moans begin to fade into breathy whines, his face falling against your shoulder again when his movements become more erratic. he’s chasing this high with you and finding it increasingly harder to let you reach the finish line first— but he underestimated just how close you were to crossing it.
“ah— shit,” you gasped out, your eyes rolling back again. “‘m gonna— fuck, i’m—“
you cut yourself off with a muted cry, a squeak leaving your lips before a deep moan rumbles slowly in your chest. your orgasm crashes over you gradually but with an intensity you’d never felt before— and satoru is quick to follow behind. he throws his head back and furrow his brows when he cums, his hips stuttering before stilling entirely, pressing them flush against your own. the way his jaw falls and the deep groan that leaves his mouth afterwards makes you throb further, your grip on his arms unfaltering.
he is so attractive it’s almost unfair.
when satoru collapses on you, panting hard against your shoulder, a few moments pass before the director is yelling out his cue for the scene to end. you blink your eyes open, swallowing thickly and pressing the palm of your hand against satoru’s shoulder to gently push him up.
“phew, what a workout!” he jokes with the crew, his attempt at brushing off his post-orgasm haze. “i hope you guys don’t mind if i lay here for a few more minutes, yeah?” he says this with a charming grin, carefully watching for their own amused smiles before he collapses against you once again.
to keep appearances you playfully roll your eyes, nudging at him again. “sounds like your stamina isn’t all that good,” you snorted, giving up entirely on pushing him off of you. (not that you really wanted to get up either, anyway.)
satoru merely laughs into your shoulder at your words, but the light pinch he does to your waist underneath the sheets delivers a different message. a reminder of what’s to come later on, once you’re both done filming for the day.
“i don’t suppose you’re hoping to find out how good my stamina actually is, hm?” he hums against your neck, his voice back down to a whisper only you can hear. “because i would love to show you.”
also big big thank u to my beloved @teddybeartoji for proofreading this 🫂🫂 dont know what i would do without u my mickey
Pull This Move
0.8k+ words of chaotic Tim Bradford fluff
A/N: Have you guys seen the "when he's copying your snaps so you pull this move" thing? I saw a drawing of it with the Batboys and then this happened.
“Tim never keeps his ringer on,” Lucy muses after your phone buzzes again. “Is that a cop-to-cop thing?”
“Yeah, some people have problems with it, others don’t mind,” you explain. “I usually have mine silenced, I just forgot.”
“Do you know why Tim is off today?”
“Just needed a break,” you explain. “Have to have to a balance in a job like this.”
“And Snapchat gives you that balance?” Lucy teases as your phone chimes with an incoming photo.
“If it’s from who I think it is, maybe,” you answer cryptically.
“Who do you think it is?!” she inquires loudly.
“Hold that thought, we’ve got a reckless driver ahead.”
During your lunch break, you open the new Snapchat and roll your eyes.
“So,” Lucy says as she sits beside you. “Who is it? New boyfriend? Potential boyfriend?”
“Let’s go with really good friend,” you reply. “Who doesn’t know how to use the app and just copies my snaps.”
“Cute!!”
You hum, then think of the snap you wish to get. So, you open the app and move the phone to one side to capture your flexed bicep. Lucy gasps as you lock the screen, and you furrow your brows at her.
“What?” you ask.
“It is a guy! Why else would you flex to have them copy it? Tell me everything!”
“New rule, when I’m substituting as your TO, you have to talk to me like Tim.”
Lucy sighs and raises her hands in surrender when your phone chimes again. Yet, after you unlock it, she snatches your phone out of your hand.
“Lucy!” you yell as she stands. “No, stop- listen. I will blue page you, Chen!”
Lucy freezes. Half-standing with your arm extended over the table, you exhale.
“Give it back and I’ll- I’ll let you see the picture. That’s it, and you have to learn to respect boundaries.”
“Will you tell Tim?” she asks, blocking your phone with her free hand.
“Not if you listen.”
Lucy nods and passes your phone back with a quiet apology. You sit, and Lucy pulls her chair beside yours. You click the red square in the app and lift a brow appreciatively at the muscled arm on the screen. There is a familiar gray shirt stretched tightly around the flexed bicep, and you hold the screen for several seconds to prolong your enjoyment of the picture.
“There,” you say, shifting your hips to slide your phone into your pocket. “Happy, Chen?”
Lucy doesn’t answer, and you turn toward her. Her jaw drops as she stares at you.
“What?”
“Was that Tim?” she asks.
“Why would you think that?” you say rather than answering.
“He wears a lot of gray shirts, and you… I don’t know how to say this without getting in trouble again.”
You cross your arms below your powered-off body cam and lean back in your seat. “Speak freely, Lucy.”
“Everyone knows you have a crush on him,” she blurts out.
“So, a gray shirt and a workplace crush lead you to believe that Tim - officer stoic and serious - would send me a Snapchat?” you challenge.
“Well when you put it like that,” Lucy mumbles, “it sounds ridiculous.”
“I’ll give you something if you give me something,” you offer. “I need some dirt on Lopez. Help me get that, and I’ll tell you something.”
“Done,” Lucy agrees. Then, she asks, “Wait, why? What’d she do?”
“No questions. Agree or don’t,” you reply. Lucy nods, and you say, “I’m going on a date with the guy in the picture tonight. We’ve been dating for a while.”
“Will you tell me more later? If things work out and I get something on Angela?”
You stand to return to the shop and say, “We’ll see.”
Walking into your house after your shift ends, you sigh.
“Did you actually help my boot today or just send Snapchats?” someone asks from the kitchen.
Laughing, you enter the room and lean your forehead between your boyfriend’s shoulder blades.
“Lucy saw the picture,” you say. “It was a really good picture, though.”
“How?” he asks, holding your arm as he turns toward you.
“She wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t tell her much, and she’s helping with our Angela problem.”
“Your Angela problem,” Tim corrects.
“Which will become our Angela problem when she finds out that my fiancé and my least favorite sergeant are the same man,” you point out.
“Shouldn’t have told her you were engaged.”
“I didn’t!”
Tim chuckles, so you sigh and fall against his chest.
“It’ll be fine,” he assures you.
“As long as you keep showing those Bradford biceps,” you grumble against his chest.
“Hey,” Tim begins carefully.
You pull back and narrow your eyes at him.
“If Angela already has an idea, and Wade knows… maybe we should ask them to help,” he suggests.
“You want Wade and Angela to be our witnesses?” you clarify. After a moment, you concede, “It could work. She’d keep it a secret if we let her come to the wedding.”
“Not what most people think about when they’re wedding planning.”
You smile and kiss Tim, thankful that your relationship is anything but average. Most people don’t have Tim Bradford going down the aisle with them, you think.
He is Nothing Like You
Tim and Reader have been secretly married for three years, which has done them good, considering the risks of Tim's occupation. One day, while Tim was on shift, he never expected his secrets to start ripping at the seams and spill onto the floor.
MDNI 18+ since it involves sexual activities! I’m gonna do a second part
"I've been meaning to ask you, what's the ring around your neck?" Lucy asks, trying to break the silence in the shop.
"Not that it's any of your business, but it's just a ring to me, no specific meaning," Tim responds while silently praying Lucy would end the conversation there, "Also it's safer if it's around my neck than on my finger."
"Grey wears his wedding band, and you don't see him having any trouble with it," Lucy mentions as Tim chuckles and reminds her that Luna would kill him if he ever took his ring off.
"Just let it go and focus on other important things, like that carjacker right there," Tim said, causing Lucy to jerk her attention back in front of her as he stopped the shop and the both of them get to work.
Once the carjacker was booked and processed, Tim and Lucy were on their way to get back on the road when Grey stopped them with a, "Bradford, my office real quick."
Lucy asks, "What is that all about?" Tim responds, "I don't know, just wait by the shop. I'll be there when I'm finished."
Tim enters Grey's office to see his wife, Y/N, sitting in one of the chairs. "She doesn't look pleased about something," Tim thought to himself before Grey excused himself to let the couple talk privately.
-Y/N's POV-
"Is everything okay?" Tim asked me while I got up from the seat to stand in front of him before I ask him, "Do you remember telling me when we first started dating that your dad died?"
Tim gulps before clearing his throat and answered, "Yes, why are you bringing that up?"
"I was cleaning the house up when the phone rang. It was a hospice nurse calling for you because Tom Bradford was asking for you," I responded before continuing, “Thinking it was the wrong number, I called Genny to ask her what was happening. She told me I needed to have that conversation with you."
Before Tim could answer me, Grey popped his head in to remind Tim about an old case regarding a family friend, Monica Ochoa.
"Do you need to go? I'm not mad. I'm just so confused," I said before Tim turned his head towards Grey and told him he was still on it before turning his attention back to me.
"I'll explain it later, I promise," Tim responds before I nod. Understanding his tone's urgency, I told him I'd be waiting with Kojo at home.
Hours passed before I heard the doorknob jiggle; Kojo had heard it since he had jumped off the couch to run to the door and greet Tim.
"Hey bud," I hear Tim say as his footsteps start toward the living room, bringing him into view.
"Hi," I say as Tim takes a seat next to me before he takes my hands in his.
"I haven't been honest with you about everything, and I am truly sorry. It wasn't fair of me to let you get whiplash from finding out I lied about my dad being dead," Tim responds as I notice tears brimming in his eyes, making me take my hands back and put one of them on his cheek, running my thumb along the bone.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I meant what I said. I'm not mad at you," I whisper, reassuring him before he sighs and responds, "I know, but it still wasn't right of me. So, I want to tell you everything."
"Okay," I say as Tim clears his throat to mention, "The reason I told you he was dead is because he's dead to me. He was abusive. To me and Genny, mostly me."
Before I can ask, he says, "When I was 7, he smashed my head into a wall. Another time, he left me at Griffith Park with only a compass to find my way home, said it's supposed to turn me into a man."
"Tim," I croak out before tears started to fall down my cheeks, "Now I feel bad that you had to reopen those wounds."
"No, no, don't you dare blame yourself," Tim said as he wiped the tears before continuing, "I should've been honest from the get-go, but instead, I wanted to keep that part of my past secret to spare you from the pain. And it was about time I told you since I have to see him."
"You don't need to see him if you don't want to. Don't let this hospice situation guilt you," I respond before Tim shook his head and told me it had to do with the Ochoa case.
"I think he had something to do with it; now I have to face him," Tim says, looking like the little boy who just wanted his dad's love, which prompts me to ask, "Want me to come with you?"
"No, you don't have to. I wouldn't force you," Tim started to say before I cut him off, "I want to. You're my husband, and my vows stated that I will be by your side for every obstacle in your path."
"Okay," Tim whispered as the both of us exited the house hand in hand, preparing to battle this demon together.
We arrived at the facility and entered the room to see my father-in-law lying in his hospital bed.
"Oh, man. Never thought I'd see your face again. Genny tell you to visit?" Tom says as I squeeze Tim's hand harder in comfort.
"Wow, liver really did a number on you, old man," Tim responds before Tom tells him he doesn't have it so bad.
"Nurses here all love me. It's just no one will bring me that shot of Patron I keep asking for," Tom says as he jesters toward the apple juice, saying it's a joke.
"A cruel joke if you ask me," I thought before glancing at Tim's face to see he thinks the same.
"You always seem to have someone looking after you, even when you don't deserve it," Tim responds, squeezing back my hand.
"Something on your mind, son?" Tom asked, clearly wanting this to be done and over with.
"Remember Frank Ochoa? Lived down the street. Shot to death 25 years ago. Well, I'm sure you remember his wife, Monica," Tim responds.
"Can't say I do," Tom deflects, obvious sign that he does remember.
"Come on. You were sleeping with her behind Mom's back," Tim says, making Tom laugh, and he asks where he got that from. Tim mentions that he saw the two of them together when he was 13.
"Oh, crap," Tom says before Tim continues, "For some reason that I still don't understand, I lied for you, lied to Mom."
"Poor little Tim-Tim," Tom degrades before spouting out, "What are you bitching about? You kept your mouth shut. You did good. Now get over it."
I feel my blood start to boil in anger at the audacity, the disrespect this son of a bitch in front of me had for the man I plan to spend forever with and have children with, but I keep quiet because he seems to not care about my presence.
"You know, I found the gun that you hid in the wall. I know you killed Frank. But why'd you do it? You wanted Monica all to yourself?" Tim asked before continuing, "Ruining one family wasn't just enough for you, was it?"
Tom takes his cannula out before getting off the bed and walking towards us. "And so what if I did?" What are you gonna do about it?"
"Get back in bed," Tim grits out as he moves me to stand more behind him for safety reasons, prompting Tom to challenge him with a "Make me."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. You're right. I killed Frank. But he had it coming. So screw him, and screw you," Tom says before telling Tim to put the cuffs on him and drag him away from his deathbed like a big man.
"This isn't over," Tim responds as he grabs my hand again, and we both leave Tom's room.
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have heard all of that," Tim whispers before entering the truck, "I have to get to the station and type up that report. I'll drop you off at home before I do."
"No, take me with you, it would save gas," I said as I explained to Tim it wouldn't make sense to do that.
After arriving at the station, Tim heads to one of the computers while I follow him. I glance over to see his rookie, Lucy, walking over.
"My dad confessed to Frank Ochoa's murder. I'm typing up the report," Tim tells Lucy as she looks at me before gesturing there were ears listening, "She's my wife, she knows."
"Wait, wife?! As in ring on the finger?" Lucy asked in shock as I raised my left hand to show her my wedding band, "We'll get to that later, but Tim, while you were gone, I brought Monica Ochoa back in."
"Why?" Tim asks as Lucy explains, "Because I knew there was more to her story. You couldn't see past the version that you wanted to see."
"What'd she say?" Tim asks again, before Lucy tells him what was confessed.
The look on Tim's face tells me we're going straight back to that hospice facility. We walk back into the room and see Tom snoring in the chair, so Tim places the shot glass and pours Patron before placing the bottle on the table, waking Tom up.
"You brought me a present?" Tom asks before Tim tells him to think of it as a push.
"You didn't kill Frank," Tim says as Tom repeats that he did and tells Tim to cuff him, "Monica confessed."
"Leave her out of this," Tom responds.
"Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close and you needed to frame someone else," Tim says.
"He was a brutal, abusive bastard. She deserves a medal for what she did," Tom responds, making me and Tim look at him in shock.
"He was an abusive bastard?" Tim asked, testing Tom for what came out of his mouth.
Feigning confusion that was fake, Tom asked if he was like him, which prompted him to say he was nothing like Frank.
"I taught you what you needed to know, son. You're a man now because of me," Tom says before I finally let my voice be heard.
"No, absolutely not. You are not getting credit for how Tim turned out," I gritted through my teeth as Tom looked at me with disdain before asking me who I was, "I happen to be the woman your son is going to spend the rest of his life with. I'll be damned if I stand by and let his piece of shit father try to take what's rightfully his credit. You deserve nothing of the sort, he's nothing like you and he will never be like you."
"Tim, you're going to let your wife speak to me this way?" Tom asked before Tim scoffed and responds, "She's right. I'm who I am in spite of you."
As Tom sits there stunned, Tim says, "Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts."
We left the facility without looking back, and after we arrived home, I suddenly felt my body being moved to where my back faced the door and I craned my neck up to look into Tim's eyes.
"Thank you," Tim whispers as I look at him in confusion, "Thank you for being by my side for that. I know it wasn't easy, but you were right. I needed you there with me."
"You don't have to thank me for that, I will always be there for you," I say before Tim smiles and leans down to kiss me.
After kissing for what felt like minutes, Tim moves his mouth to be near my ear and he whispers, "I'm also really turned on by you defending me."
I laugh before asking, "Oh are you? What are you going to do about it?"
I feel Tim's hands move down to my ass before I squeak out in surprise as he hoists me up, causing me to wrap my legs around his waist and feel the outline of his dick through his jean.
"I think I'm going to give my beautiful wife a thank-you gift," Tim whispers before moving towards our bedroom and putting me down on the bed.
"Tim, you don't have to," I started to protest before he cuts me off, "Just let me do it, you deserve it."
My attention gets grabbed while I watch his hands curl around the collar of his shirt before he pulls it up off his body, which, I feel myself start to drool over my husband's abs. His hands then moved to his belt to unbuckle it before he walk up to me and get down on his knees so he can be on the same level as me. Tim pulls me into another kiss, one more passionate than the last, as I feel his hands unbutton my jeans before he pulls the materials down to my ankles to take them off, leaving me in my black panties. He then positions my body to lean back against the pillows before he moves himself to be above me, Tim asks, "Is this okay?"
Not trusting my voice, I nodded my head before Tim's fingers curled around the sides of the panties as he started pulling them down. He groans out in pleasure as he changes his position, his shoulders in between my thighs, keeping my legs where he wants them to be, his hands near the area I yearn for him to pay attention to. I shivered when I felt his breath before he placed his mouth on me, causing me to let out a shuttered moan. When I felt myself getting close, Tim pulled away, causing me to groan out in frustration, making him laugh.
"The only way you're cumming is around my dick," Tim whispered in my ear as he gets himself out of his pants and boxers while he pushes my shirt up to above my chest, showing the matching black bra.
The both of us let out a groan as Tim enters me and starts to thrust, his dick hitting all the right places. After minutes passed, the both of us came and Tim's body moves to his side of the bed as I tell him that was a great gift, making him he let out a soft laugh.
"Glad to be of service," Tim says getting out of bed and putting on clean boxers and pajama pants before he goes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean me up.
After Tim cleaned me up and helped me get dressed, he got back into the bed to pull me into him so we can cuddle.
"Tim?" I said after a moment of silence, causing him to say, "Yeah?"
"I have something for you," I respond before reaching over into my nightstand and pulling out a small box, "I was going to give you this later, but now feels right."
Tim opens the box and pulls out a onesie that says, "My daddy will arrest you if you mess with me."
"Babe, this is perfect for our future baby," Tim responds before he felt his voice stop short when he sees what else is in the box, reaching in to pull out the pregnancy test, "Are you really?"
"Yes, I found out two weeks ago, you're going to be a dad, Tim," I said as Tim pulled me into a tight embrace before kissing the top of my head, "And you're going to be the best dad, I just know it."
"I love you so much," Tim whispers before pulling me into the most loving kiss a girl could ask for.
Tim may have had the worst pick in the dad potluck, but no doubt in my mind he will never treat our children the way Tom treated him and Genny.
Little Star
18+
A high school reunion, a sexually frustrated lawyer, and a secret pornstar. This should be fun.
My submission to Aphrodite’s Manor Challenge <3 (and my first ever challenge submission 🥺)
@geminixevans-stan @fineanddandy @jamalflanagan @cocobutterqwueen @syntheticavenger @sunshinexsin @boxofbonesfic
Content Warning: Andy Barber x Pornstar!Reader, mature themes, flirting, sexual language, cheating, smut (dom!andy x sub!reader, multiple orgasms, public sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, spanking, facial)
“I cannot believe you made me come back to this place,” You grumble, running your finger around the rim of your martini glass. “Nothing but bad memories.”
“Oh, come on,” Yanic coos, squeezing your shoulder as he leans in closer. “High school wasn’t that bad.”
“Maybe not for you,” You say with a glare. “You were in with the popular kids. You were practically a jock!”
“Being kept on the bench every single game hardly made me a jock,” He chuckles. “You had some fun here, didn’t you?”
You can’t help but smirk. “I guess senior prom was pretty fun.”
“Didn’t you fuck Andy Barber under the bleachers that night?” He asks with wide eyes. “Now, that was unexpected.”
Keep reading
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Manny Rivera x Blakc!OC (can be read as reader though)
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Manny and Naoya’s meet cute
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - swearing, grammar errors,
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬! - It’s been a while…a long while. Sorry for any mistakes or errors, as if said, it’s been a long while and I sort of forgot where I was going with this storyline without having to watch season 2 over. Plus, I also just took what you guys were saying and started at the beginning of the season where Manny shows up. I wanted to get there quickly as well. Most of my fics for characters do follow the show/movie they come from because I’m not that creative, so spare me please. I also have to come up with ideas for just some one one one time between him and the reader, if you guys want to see anything in particular let me know. Also, this is just a little some to hold you guys over for the time being. I plan on editing t this afternoon little before the other chapters come out. I wrote this sleep deprived.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭! - 5,895
“Yurrr!! What it do Camera Crew?” Ava beamed as she opened the doors for the infamous camera crew. “Welcome back to the house that Ava built. It’s been a while.” She grinned.
“It’s not like they’ve missed anything,” Naoya said in a monotone as she came out of the office with papers in her hands. She then flashed them a small, but genuine, smile. “Nice seeing you though.” She said softly.
“Hey! Look who it is!” Melisa said as she got into step with them. “What’s it’s been? Like, five months? How you doin'?” She grinned.
Gregory then came out of his classroom, seeing his fellow coworkers and the new and improved camera crew. “Oh, what’s up? We still doing this?” He asked.
“Yeah.” Naoya and Ava answered, although their tones varied.
The cameraman then turned around at the sound of excited giggles from afar, catching Jacob beam at the sight of them. “Oh, my God! You guys! Hey!” He cheesed as he jogged up to them, bumping into the cameras. “Oh! Sorry.” He said as he straighter the camera up. “Um, wow. You got new equipment. Look, I don’t wanna say I told you so, but—.”
“I will!” Naoya said, pushing her friend so she could be in view. “You should’ve listened to me and Jacob when we said to make a right on 30th street instead of a left that night.” She said, squinting at them with a point before walking away. Ava nodded in agreement.
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“You want me to tell you what happened to you?” Ava asked the person behind the camera confused. “Oh, right. Tell the people.” She said before her usual grin spread across her face. “So, they got robbed.” She stated bluntly. “Because they thought it’d be cute to walk around West Philly at night with all this camera equipment. Hell, I’d have robbed you if I was there.” She told them. “Anyway, here we are, five months later because that’s how long it takes for three people with art degrees to save up for new cameras. Welcome back! It’s Career Day today.” She finished enthusiastically before it all dropped within a second. “Unfortunately.”
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“Why would you not listen to someone from Philly when they say don’t do stupid shit in the city?” Naoya asked, looking at the people behind the camera. “We tried to tell you and look what happened. You’re lucky you weren’t held at gunpoint.” She said as she crossed her arms. She paused, looking at the face of the camera crew. “You were held at gunpoint? Oh…” She cringed. “Why the hell did you come back? Are you getting cut a check? Because it must be good.” She stated. “And if you are I want in, I don’t care how much money you think I have.” She said.
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The camera crew then caught the teachers walking into the library as they all waited for some meeting by the district. Naoya took her seat in front of Ava, flashing a confused look at the other when she saw the glasses on the woman’s face.
“Ava!” Barbra yelled, spooking the woman awake. “Not planning on being conscious for Career Day?”
“This is a district initiative. They can handle it.” She frowned, relaxing back into her seat with those glasses still on. “Anyone else feels like the people from the district have been more annoying than usual?”
“They’re not all bad.” Barbra waved her off.
“I think they’re cool.” Jacob chimed in from the other table. Naoya looked back at him, squinting. “Stay at your own table.” She told him, causing Jacob to frown at her in confusion, even though he didn’t take it to heart.
“I actually like them this year.” Gregory chimed in.
“You too,” Naoya said again.
“Shocking,” Melissa said, giving the man a knowing look that he tried to avoid.
“I don’t know, I feel like they’ve been unequivocally and universally worse than they’ve ever been. From unhelpful to unbearable.” Evan complained.
“Wow, what big words for you Ava.” Naoya jutted with an evil smile, turning away before she could see the woman lift her glasses to give her a dirty look. Naoya just continued to smile, looking into the camera even though she could feel the hard gaze on her back.
“Good morning Abbott Elementary.” Janine grinned as she walked into the room with her district coworker behind her. Naoya smirked as she looked her up and down, slightly nodding her head at a chipper and well-dressed Janine. Her eyes then caught a familiar pair behind the short woman, the man smiling at the woman sitting before him. Noaya flashed him a quick smile, causing his to grow as they stared at one another. She tilted her head, looking up at him as he leaned against his weight against the table behind him.
“Hey.” He mouthed to her, not taking his eyes away from her.
“Hi.” Naoya cheesed, lighting biting her bottom lip as she looked into his warm gaze.
“Good morning Abbott Elementary.” Ava mocked from behind her, then received a tap from Barb. Janine smiled, seeing the camera crew was back.
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“So, yeah, I work for the school district now.” She beamed. “You guys missed a lot.”
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𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫…
Janine gave the camera a quick smile and wave as she walked into the auditorium, moving to find a spot in the chairs lined up. She chose to sit in one of the empty spots next to Gregory, who was behind Naoya, who was across from Jacob.
“Left for right?” The man asked.
“Uh, left.” She answered before taking the seat.
“Good choice.” Gregory grinned.
“Thank you,” Janine said. Naoya frowned, raising her eyes from the handbook in her lap and making eye contact with the cameras a few feet away. She didn’t move her head, not wanting to be obvious, but her face showed enough.
“Girl this development day has me developing a migraine.” Barbra groaned from her seat next to Melissa, who was popping a pill into her mouth before downing water in her cup. The pair sat in front of Jacob.
“Let me have one of those aspirins, please,” Barbra asked, holding out her hand.
“It’s a sleeping pill,” Melissa said. “Wake me if there’s a fire, a tornado, or a volcanic eruption.” She sighed. “I know that’s right,” Naoya mumbled to herself, not looking up from her papers.
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“What?” She asked with a shrug. “I told you guys I hear and know everything. I’m nosy, okay? That’s isn’t a crime.” It was silent for a moment before the woman gave the person a confused look. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?” She asked as she lifted her hands to her face.
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“Good day to the fine teachers of Abbott Elementary,” Ava said into the microphone. The majority of the teachers in the room then turned to look at Gregory and Naoya, who was shocked by the odd attention she’s been getting as of late. The pair sat there awkwardly, Naoya more so trying to convince herself that they couldn’t be staring at her.
“What?” Ava asked them.
“No comment about Gregory being “F I O N, fine?” Melissa asked.
“Or whatever’s different about Noaya that’s making her more attractive this year.” Jacob chimed in, causing everyone to look his way, but he was too busy staring at his friend across from him. Naoya gave the man a confused and slightly disturbed look. “Aren’t you gay?” She asked him
“I’m starting to question it.” He said, making her eyes widen and look away from him.
“No, Mr.Hill and Ms.Schemmenti.” Ava chimed back in a little aggressively. “I was speaking to everyone. But since all eyes are on them, uh, Mr.Eddie would you mind reading from the first paragraph of your immaculately assembled binder?” She said a polite smile on her face. If Naoya wasn’t so disturbed, she’d frown her the woman’s behavior, but she couldn’t help but spiral inwardly due to the way everyone was acting.
“Sexily?” Gregory asked unsurely.
“Excuse me?” Ava asked. “That’s is not only suggestive but highly inappropriate in front of our company,” Ava said before gesturing over to the trio that stood at the other end of the stage. Naoya’s eyes jumped to them, eyeing the tall man in the sweater for a brief moment, who just so happened to already be glancing her way. At the newfound attention, the man called his throat before speaking, looking away from the woman. “Uh, hi. Hi, everybody.” He said as she made his way into the center of the over to the podium for the microphone. “We’re from the school district. Principe Colman invited us to come, observe, and collaborate with you all on this Development Day.” He said.
Naoya slightly tilted her head as she analyzed the man, admiring his obvious strive appearance.
“Yes!” Ava said in the mic. “The importance of collaboration is one of the many things I learned while I was matriculating at Cambridge.” She boasted. Naoya gave the camera a deadpanned look.
“We’re super excited to be here.” The man spoke again. “On behalf of the new superintendent, John Reynolds. I’m Manny. That’s my dream team over there.” He gestured to the pair from his original position. “That’s Emily. That’s Simon. And we don’t come empty-handed. We’ve come with some iPads and SMART boards for your classrooms, loaded with learning apps.” He explained, causing the teachers to clap. Naoya just sat there though, her hands clasped over her crossed legs with a disinterested look on her face.
“New and improved model,” Melissa stated as she leaned closer to Barbra.
“Same old engines.” The other woman said. “These people aren’t going to change a blessed thing, except how many bodies are in the room.”
“Thank you. We’ll see you around.” Manny finished with a grin, his eyes trailing back to Naoya. She sat there, face blank as she looked the man up and down. Manny smirked at that, before looking away as he made his way back to his team.
“Gregory, we still need you to read from section ‘A’., there in your binder,” Ava stated.
Gregory stood from his seat, binder in hand. “ ‘Section A. Welcome back.’ That’s concluded section ‘A’.” He said before closing the booklet.
“Thank you, Mr.Eddie. You may be seated.” There was light applause after that, most uninterested or highly confused.
Softly, as if she wasn’t away she was in front of a mic, Ava began to read from her notes. “As the teacher, if they have any ideas from over the summer they’d like to implement. Try to make it fun.” She said to herself. She sighed before moving away from the podium. She struggled for a bit before doing a small dance, asking the question over again. “Does anyone have any ideas from over the summer that they’d like to implement?”
Janine raised her hands.
“Janine!” Ava said. “One of our most…teachers at Abbott.”
“So I was thinking over the summer while I was spending time with myself and just thinking about, like, what really led me to this point in my life.” She began.
Melissa yawned. “Get to the point.” She groaned with her head back.
“Get to the point, Janine,” Barbra said.
“Yeah, okay. So, a Career Day?” Janine suggested. “We should do career day at the school because I checked and we haven’t had one since the only jobs for women were typists, moms, and wet nurses.” She explained. “I think it’s a great way for the kids to see all of the amazing jobs they can have. And that’s it. That’s my idea. I’m done. Career Day.” She quickly finished before taking her seat. Naoya nodded, turning in her seat to look at the girl.
“That was an amazing idea, Neen.” She said, causing the shorter woman to smile. Naoya nodded as she looked at her friend for a while longer. “How much time did you spend alone, exactly?” She asked, causing Janine's smile to slightly drop. Before she could answer, Naoya waved her off. “It doesn’t matter, I was alone too.” She said, letting out an awkward chuckle. “I’m gonna say my idea now.” She said before Janine or Gregory, who was listening, could comment on anything.
She raised her hand, catching Ava’s attention, as well as the people on the stage. “Yes, Miss Lovell.” She said. Naoya jerked her head back at Ava’s use of her professional name before she just shook her head at it. “I was thinking of a librarian.” She said. “A better library program, actually. New books, more books, better books. Just an improvement of that old wretched system that keeps losing the books I put in there.” She said through a strained smile at the thought of all the books she’d donated, only for them to end up missing. Manny looked the woman up and down from his place on the stage, watching the way the sun seemed to shine through the room only for her, dressed in fun colors and her quirky glasses.
“I could name a plethora of reasons those Ideas won’t work.” Ava began, barely listening to their suggestions. “Scheduling, previous failed attempts, that’s the fact that it’s was your ideas.” She said, gesturing between the two. Naoya jerked her head back at the woman’s audacity while Janine tried to save herself.
“Right, but there is a way—.”
“But I’m just gonna go ahead and say no and save yourself the embarrassment.” Ava cut in. Janine leaned back in her seat while Naoya raised her middle finger at the woman on stage, not caring for the guests who were visiting the school.
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“I’m never suggesting anything again.” She hissed as she leaned against the lockers. “It’s one thing to try and embarrass me in front of my coworkers who already live pathetic lives and make less money than me. It’s another to do it in front of sexy company. She’s gonna pay one way or another.”
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Naoya was walking next to Janine, the shorter woman looking her friend up and down. “There is something different about you that I just can’t put my finger on.” She said skeptically, causing Naoya to slightly frown at her. “You are glowing though.” She shrugged.
Before Naoya could speak on the matter, they were intercepted by the voice. “Hey, Janine. Ms.Lovell.” They said, causing the girl to turn around. “I’m Manny, which I said up there.” He stumped as she held out his hand. Janie shook his first before he moved into Naoya. The man hiked as he looked her in the eye, Naoya’s face blank as she placed her hand into his, giving his large hand a firm shake.
“You can call me Naoya.” She said with a small smile. She couldn’t help it. She tried to stay stoic in front of the man but there was something about him that just made her all giddy and gooey inside, especially now that they were up close and she felt his skin on hers, even if it was a simple handshake.
“Naoya.” He tested the name on his tongue as he continued to look her in the eye, both parties loving the way it sounded. “I love that.” He said until he was aware of what he said. And also aware that his hand was still in hers. “Name. I love that name. It’s cool and different.” He said, before pulling his hand away. Noaya nodded, letting out a small huff of a laugh. “Thanks.” She said, placing her hand behind her back. Janine’s eyes snapped to the cameras near them, slightly shocked written onto her features.
“Uh, I just wanted to say, that, uh, Career Day and the Library Program sounded good.” He began. “They’re good ideas and I would love to hear more.”
“Thank you!” Janine said. “So you guys are new at the district?” She asked.
“Yep. Just started over the summer. Loving it so far.” He explained, looking between the two. “Feel like we’re going to make a lot of positive changes and do what the last administration didn’t. Nobody embezzling funds in my watch.” He joked, causing Naoya to giggle. Janie was taken aback, looking at her and the cameras at Naoya's unusual behavior. “Funny.” The taller woman simply stated before beginning to make her way out of the auditorium.
“Oh, hey.” Manny began again, stopping her while Janine stayed stationary. “Actually one of the things we wanted to do today was shadow some teachers. Are you two up for it?” He asked, looking between them. Naoya glanced at Janine, who shrugged, before looking back at Manny and doing the same. “Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna be setting up my classroom.” She said.
“Same,” Janine stated.
“Exciting!” Manny grinned.
Naoya nodded, a fond smile on her face. “It’s is exciting. I’m a pretty creative and free spirit.” She grinned. “Yeah? Well, I’m just gonna grab my coworkers.” He grinned. “They're talking to Principle Coleman over there. You guys are so lucky you have such a good principle.” He said. Janine awkwardly smiled while Naoya just pursed her lips.
“Yeah.” Janie agreed, nodding as the man walked away.
Noaya watched him with a small smirk before sighing and twirling around, her straightend hair flowing behind her. Janine squinted as she watched the woman practically skip away in glee, Manny not too far behind.
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“That’s what it is!” Janine grinned primal at the cameras. “She’s not wearing her contacts.” She grinned proudly. It didn’t last long though, slightly dropping as she looked at the camera, thinking it over more.
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“No,” Naoya said to the camera, an almost offended look on her face. “I wear my glasses almost all the time. Granted, these are new frames, but why the hell? These people know nothing about me.”
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“So, where’d you teach before picturing to the school district?” Noaya asked as She, Janine, Manny, and his crew walked to their classrooms.
“I didn’t, actually.” Manny averted sheepishly. Janine flashed a look to the camera while Naoya hummed in acknowledgment with a purse of her lips. “But I grew up here, though.” He quickly added. “My first-hand experience is more from when I was a student in the area.” He said as Janine led them into her room.
“Oh, alright.” The shorter woman nodded. “Well, you know, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to teach at Abbott.” She said. “Because I was a student in the area, as well, so…” She shrugged. “This is my room.” She said to them.
“What are you making here?” Emily asked, gesturing to the table where a tone of colored paper and glue was laid out.
“Oh, A ‘Welcome Back’ sign for the kids. Naoya was helping me paint.” She grinned, gesturing over to the woman next to her. “We’re gonna decorate it together so that everyone feels included. I try to implement a lot of color. I wanted to go with blue because that inspires focus.” She began to explain.
“And calm, which is so important for primary classes.” Manny chimed in. “I read about that in Chalkbeat.” He grinned. Naoya tilted her head at that, flashing the camera a Quick Look as she glanced between the two.
“You read Chalkbeat?” Janine asked, a smile starting to spread across her face.
“Mm-hmm.” Manny hummed.
“I basically live in the comment section, so…” She chortled.
“Oh, my God. Are you @JTeaguee215?” He asked as he stepped sideward a little, an excited grin on his face. “Yes!” Janine said enthusiastically. Naoya softly nodded her head, glancing at the camera when it tried to catch her tense facial expression at the exchange.
“And @JTeagues267 when I wanna spice up the discourse.” She continued.
“Ms.Teagues, I’m @MannyFromTheBlock. I’m always using this emoji.” He said before doing a salute. Janie gaped at him in shock. “That’s you!”
“That’s me.” He grinned.
“I love your comments,” Janine stated with a grin.
“I love your comments.” He smiled back.
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“Fuck!” She yelled in the hallway, turning away from the cameras as she her fist j to the lockers, making a loud sound.
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Janine continued onto fine before glancing at Naoya, who had taken several steps back and looked to be on her way out of the room. When the other woman saw her looking, she flashed a tight smile before looking away. Janine eyes subtly squinted in confusion before she continued. “Anyways.” She began, brushing the interaction off. “Naoya wanted to paint the walls blue last year, but you guys—the district—didn’t like the idea of pinging walls, so…” She shrugged, explaining for the other woman.
“What!? Why not? That’s is so good.” Manny responded, his eyes sifting to the distant figure of the other woman. “I think that’s exactly an idea that we could and should implement.” He said softly, examining her awkward grin. The woman just nodded, rubbing the back of her neck while Janine glanced at the cameras at the tension hiking within the room.
“It’s a low-stakes, high-reward improvement,” Emily stated, glancing Naoya’s way.
“Yes. Let’s revise that.” Simone grinned. Janine pursed her lips, making a funny face as she looked away from them. The trio looked at the woman funny. “Are you okay?” Simone asked.
“Yeah,” Janine asked. “Just a lot of positive reinforcement. I usually only get that from Ms.Love back here.” She awkwardly chuckled, pointing to the woman next—behind—her. That caused all of their eyes to drift to the woman, who seemed dither than she was before. She stood by the other door, her hands stuffed in her pockets now that eyes were on her while she was almost away from them.
“Are you okay?” Janine asked, looking at the woman confused, her mood a complete flip from earlier.
“No,” Naoya said simply before twirling around and skipping to her room. Janine paused, glancing back at the trio as they all watched the woman leave, Manny with a small smile on his face. “She’s a wonderful woman.” She began, stealing out of the door. “A soft chocolate chunk cookie with crispy edges. Her words not mind, they’re in her Twitter bio.” She said, trying to fill the air with something. The trio nodded at that. Janine lightly cleared her throat before making her way to Naoya’s room. “Let’s follow her, shall we.” She said softly, the others trailing behind her.
They made it to her door, looking into the classroom as Naoya rearranged the comfy furniture she had the way she wanted it.
“Wow.” Manny sighed from the door before making his way into the room. Naoya turned at the voice to see the group, said the man looking around as he trailed in.
“This is really nice.” He said softly before letting his eyes fall on her.
Naoya’s face held a small grin as she nodded. “Thank you. I try.” She shrugged.
“It’s cozy in here.” Emily grinned as she made her way around the different sections.
Noaya's eyes snapped over to her as she pushed a small couch over to the rug she had laid out in between the bookshelves. “Yeah, I try to keep it that way.” She said, pairing the seat. “I hate—The kids hate fluorescent lighting.” She chuckled nervously, shooting them a quick look. “But some do come on when it’s instruction time.” She added to save her ass.
Manny grinned at her as he nodded his head. Janie looked between them with a small smile before glancing at the watching cameras, her expression dropping.
“That’s actually really important.” He began. “Such lightening for long hours does nothing for brain stimulation.” He said. Noaya glanced at him, lightly nodding. “Yeah, it actually has the opposite effect. Weakens memory retention causes migraines” She said. Manny hummed, looking at her. “It’s why they have them in prisons.” She added, quickly turning away from them and then moving over to a box that sat on a table. Manny’s eyes tricker after her, not wasting time before stepping closer as he watched her.
“What’s this section for?” Simone asked, watching as the woman set a box on the ground in front of an empty shelf, flanked by small bookshelves on either side. “Oh, this is my relaxation saltation.” Naoya grinned as she lifted the clear top of the record player, and then reached down to pull out a vinyl from the box. “Well, that’s what it is now.” She said as she placed the Minnie Riperton record onto the player. “It used to be where I taught the kids music. As best I could though. We didn’t have a music teacher here for a while.” She said sheepishly, glancing at them. “Now it’s called the relaxation station. The kids like coming over and picking out their songs. It’s a reward for good behavior.” She shrugged before pressing the machine on, the classroom then being filled with the soft sound of Les Fleurs by Minne Riperton.
“Wow,” Manny said softly, not taking his eye off the woman. “That’s amazing.” He said, this team nodding as they looked around the comfy section. “Naoya glanced at him, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you.” She said softly. They stayed each other in the eye for what felt like forever before the woman gulped and looked away from him, trying to find something to occupy herself. She looked down, her eyes going to the box of records she needed to put away. She squatted as she began unloading them into the section at the bottom of the shelf. She handled the old-school records with care, not wanting to damage the already torn covering and hurt the disc.
Manny couldn’t help but watch with a fond look in his eye, the colorful woman in her own world as she worked, her lips softly singing the song playing in the background.
“What’s this on the board?” Emily asked from the other side of the room, catching their attention. Naoya had just finished when she stood up, rubbing her hands against her jeans. She quickly glanced at Manny, who was already looking at her, before her eyes trailed to the questioning woman near the board, who pointed at the Kanji.
“Oh, those are just words I she a lot so I put Kanji next to them so the kids become familiar.” She said as she walked closer. “We also didn’t have a language teacher here for a while so…” She tried off with a shrug. “I was teaching them the Spanish I learned from the bodega guy growing up but he wasn’t saying anything children should be.” She grinned tensely at them. “Now I just inform them on Japanese when we have free time or if they’re curious, which they usually are.”
“Why Japanese?” Simon asked. Naoya glanced between all of them, a small smile on her face.
“I’m Japanese.” She said with a small smile. “It’s my first language. My mom was a nurse and an English teacher over there for a long time.” She sighed. The other hummed, surprised at the new revelation while Manny admired the woman.
“My mother was a teacher as well.” He said, causing the woman to look his way. “It’s part of the reason why I work at the district now.” He said softly. Noaya started at him, mother of the faces faltering from their soft expressions. She just nodded at what he said. Because she could speak, as if she was going to, Janine spoke up.
“What’s this one mean?” The woman asked, pointing at the unfamiliar Kanji on the board.
“Oh, it’s just love.” She shrugged. “I put it on the board at the beginning of each year because if I was a teacher in Japan, that would be my name.” She said. “Sensei Ai or Ai-aan.” She stated in Japanese, ignoring the impressed looks she gathered from the crew as she continued to explain. “Even though Ai is the general term of love and affection.” She shrugged.
“That is so amazing,” Simon said with a proud grin, looking at the woman. “There is such a diversity of cultures and learning in this classroom. What grade do you teach?” He asked. Naoya was slightly taken aback by his apparent enthusiasm, looking at the man with a small smile. “Fourth grade.” She said.
“Mhm, that’s when all the magic starts to happen.” He said, causing Naoya to nod. Manny glanced between the two, his smile slightly strained as he watched them interact.
“Yeah,” Naoya said. “There is a significant development in their cognitive abilities. The children become more logical and critical thinkers, alongside increased independence, stronger social connections with peers, and a growing awareness of social hierarchies, often navigating feelings like peer pressure and the desire to fit in. They also start thinking more about abstract ideas, and not just about things they can observe.” She explained. Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock, taking in the information she just dumped on them.
“I majored in Psychology for Human Growth and Development. I was gonna be a children’s therapist but I realized my heart can’t really handle all that.” She said. Some hummed with the other nodded at the woman.
“Well, aren’t you the gift that just keeps on giving? Full of unexpected but pleasant surprises.” Simone said, grinning at the woman. Naoya laughed, waving him off before turning to find something else to do in her class. Manny’s eyes trailed after hard, glancing between her and his coworker.
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Noaya was walking down the hall, talking to Gregory when Janine came out of her classroom, spotting the two. “Oh, hey! Fancy seeing you here.” She joked, speaking to Gregory. “Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing to the boxes the pair held.
“Just bringing the books in.” The man said. “Oh, there is a ten-for-ten sale at Nichols Schola Supplies, by the way.” He said while Noaya nodded.
“Oh fuck yeah,” Janine said, catching the two off guard.
“What the hell?” Noaya stated in shock.
“Trying out cursing. Still getting the hang of it.” Janine sighed, seeing their confused and shocked faces. “No was Baltimore?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Noaya sighed, sensing where the conversation was going, and moved to carry the box she held in Gregory’s classroom.
“It was so flat!” Was the first thing she heard from Gregory when she exited the class after luring the box down. She cried in confusion, looking at the cameras before making her way over to the pair.
“What’s you do over the break?” Gregory asked her before glancing over when Naoya came closer, squinting at her. “You too, now that I’m thinking about it.” He said.
“I just spent a lot of time with myself,” Janine answered. “And it was good for me. I feel, sure, centered, good.” She listed with a content smile. “Oh, Jacob, Noaya, Erika and I started going out to brunch together. We’re calling ourselves the Brunch Bunch.” She joked.
“Why not just the Brunch Bunch?” Gregory asked.
“I thought it was just the Brunch Bunch? That’s why I named the group chat.” Naoya said, her brows furrowed.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Janine said. Naoya pursed her lips while Gregory let out a tense exhale, Janine, looked between the two.
“It’s just not working for me, is it?” Janine asked.
“Not quite there,” Gregory said.
“Fuck, no.” Noaya scoffed. Janine snapped her fingers, pointing at the woman. “See, that sounds so much better.” She said. Noaya cocky shrugged before her eyes caught a finger coming up behind Janine.
“Hey,” Manny said. “Teacher of the Year. Gregory Eddie.” He said in his odd accent that she couldn’t help but find endearing. “I heard about that garden you made out front. Really cool, man.” He said.
“Oh! Thanks.” Gregory said. “I like to do it and it makes the school and the street look nice.” He explained with a small shrug.
“Sure does,” Manny said before looking between the two women. “Uh, Ms.Lovell, Ms.Teauges, could I speak to you two for a quick second? Sorry to interrupt.” He said to Gregory. Janine nodded. “Oh, yeah. All good. And you can call me Janine.” She said as she led the man into her room. Gregory and Noaya shared a look before they glanced at the cameras. They then went their separate ways, her into Janine’s class while he went into his own.
“Well, uh, Janine.” Manny begun. “I was talking with the other from the school district. And you two seem to have a ton of great ideas.” Manny complimented, looking between the pair. Janine smiled proudly at him while Noaya shrugged softly.
“There’s this fellowship—.”He started again. “The Robeson Fellowship at the district. We want somebody with in-field experience to come to enhance what the district can do to make schools as efficient as possible.” He explained.
“That sounds like a great opportunity,” Janine said. “I'm pretty sure I can help you find somebody for that.” She stated, glancing at the woman next to her.
“Well, no, I had one of you in mind for it,” Manny said, glancing between the two. Noaya’s eyes widened, immediately shook her head. “Oh! That’s amazing but.” She chicken’s nervously and in shock. “I can’t.” She sighed, trying to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t.
“Yeah.” Janine echoed. “I’m flattered but, you know, the summer is when I get a little bit of a break away from school.” She said, causing Noaya to point over at her in agreement.
“This would be doing the school year,” Manny stated.
“But that’s when we’re doing the schooling,” Noaya stated, brows furrowed as she gestured to her class.
“Yes, well, a sub would take over your class. While you’re with us for your duration of the fellowship.” He said. Naoya’s brows raised as she nodded at his words, taking them in. Janine, on the other hand, scoffed out a chuckle. “Sorry, but no.” She said. “I can’t imagine being away from my students, so… I’m flattered but, no, thank you.” She said.
Manny grinned, letting out a small chuckle. “Okay, alright.” He said before he then turned to Naoya, who had her hand behind her back. Her eyes widened slightly, taking in what the man was saying. “Uh, I’ll think it over.” She said with a nervous smile. “I would have to plan so much and, you know, I only have so many ideas.” She shrugged.
“And I bet they’re all great,” Manny told her, his voice very sure of himself as he looked at the woman. Noaya nodded her head, offering him a small smile. “Okay.” She said. Manny nodded before moving his way out of the room. He was on his way out of the room before he turned around, looking between the two.
“Just give it some real thought, okay?” He said, his eyes mainly on Noaya. “You can help make some real change around here. Creative and culturally diverse ideas—.”His eye then trailed to Janine. “And painted walls are just the start.” He gave Noaya another smile, showing his there before making his way out of the room.
Once he was away Noaya sighed, throwing her head back. “I’m gonna go complain to Jacob.” She sighed before exiting the room to make her way upstairs.
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