Harsh Words

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,707

Warnings - angst, fluff, running away, Tim is a bit of an ass, mentions of getting hurt, swearing, brief mention of guns, inaccurate police scenes, mentions of verbal abuse/threats, Kojo is once again the best boy

Summary - in a bad mood, Tim snaps at you, prompting you to run away and sending everyone into a panic

A/N - hey y'all it's once again time for a new request! this was sent in by @callsigns-haze so I hope I did your idea justice! I really enjoyed writing this fic (it's me I love angst what did you expect)? but I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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Tim had been through the wringer. He was convinced that no one else he knew had it as bad as he did right now. He’d broken up with Lucy and been kicked out of Metro. Just when Tim had thought life was finally going well for him, the rug got pulled out from underneath him and he felt like he was at rock bottom with no way to pull himself back up.

You, however, were completely ignorant of Tim’s foul mood and were cooking dinner for the both of you at home. You knew Tim had been working longer and later hours since he started working with Metro so you’d been taking it upon yourself to start cooking dinners most nights so that Tim had something to eat whenever he got home or could take any leftovers to work for lunch. You perked up slightly when you heard the door open but hearing the way it slammed afterwards made you flinch slightly, reminding you of the children's home you had spent years of your life in.

“Hey.” You say softly as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling shyly. Your gaze flicks over to Tim before focusing back on the meal you are cooking.

“Hey,” Tim replies gruffly, barely acknowledging you and only briefly petting Kojo who approaches him happily.

“Was work busy today?” You ask innocently, trying to keep the mood light. You didn’t know what it was that was bothering Tim but you had instantly picked up on his off mood that had been hanging over him for the past few days.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim grumbles, poking around in the fridge and various cupboards for stuff to eat.

“I’m making dinner. Do you want any? It’s almost done.” You offer, noticing Tim scavenging as if he wasn’t aware of the food you were cooking.

“No,” Tim says, taking you aback slightly at the sharpness of his tone.

“I’ll box up whatever’s left and you can have it for lunch or something if you want.” You say, beginning to plate up some food for yourself while Kojo whines at Tim's lack of attention, attempting to get in front of him to get the attention he usually gets from him.

“Kojo, get out of the way.” Tim scowls, using his foot to carefully move Kojo out of the way. He didn’t intend to hurt Kojo, but the dog’s persistence was beginning to get on his nerves.

“Is everything okay? Is something bothering you?” You ask innocently, worried about Tim with the way he was acting with everything around him.

“It’s none of your business. Don’t stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong. I can’t get a moment’s peace around here.” Tim snaps, eyes full of anger as he glares over at you, your eyes wide and lips parted slightly in shock. Tim had never spoken to you in such a way before and all it could do was remind you of the way people would talk to you in the children's home you were in. As the words replayed in your head and the smell of the dinner you cooked wafted under your nose, you felt your stomach turn, your appetite suddenly gone.

With your appetite now non-existent. You decided to quickly pack all the food you had cooked away, store it away for later and then clean up after yourself. You petted Kojo on your way out of the kitchen, feeling sorry for him after the way Tim had dismissed him and he followed you as you made your way to your room with Kojo hot on your heels, not wanting to face Tim. Who after you left the kitchen, had made his way to the living room. As you sat in your room, you thought more and more about the way Tim had talked to you, you began to feel more and more unsafe in what you had previously thought was the safest place in the world for you. As the unsettled feeling begins to seep in, you decide you need to just get out of the house as soon as possible so you grab your school bag and a duffle bag, scooping things into them before turning to Kojo who whines and lays his head in between his paws, seemingly sensing your intentions.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” You apologise to Kojo, petting him as you crouch down at his level. You wished you could take Kojo with you but you knew it wouldn’t be fair to Kojo to be dragged along with you. You knew Tim wasn’t upset with Kojo like he was with you. After zipping up the bags, you sling one over each shoulder and make your way to the kitchen to grab some food and put it in your bag before hearing the tv in the living room and making your way there with Kojo following behind you like a shadow.

“Hey, Tim. I’m going to Juliet’s house. We’ve got a project we need to work on and she invited me over.” You say quietly, trying not to distract Tim too much when you realise he was watching a football game. In his foul mood, Tim hadn’t even noticed that you had elected to call him by his name instead of calling him ‘Dad’ like you had grown accustomed to.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Tim mumbles, his eyes remaining fixed on the game and barely giving you a second of attention. At his dismissive tone, you nod and turn to head out of the house, apologising quietly to Kojo once more before exiting the house, and closing the door behind you. After you left, Kojo whined loudly, pawing at the door and pacing in front of it anxiously.

“Kojo shut it!” Tim scolds Kojo from the living room, making Kojo let out a longer defiant whine while lying down in front of the door watching carefully as if you would come back in if he waited long enough.

Meanwhile, you were making your way to the nearest bus stop, putting your headphones on as you blink back tears. You wait patiently for the bus to arrive and you climb on, pay for your ticket and take a seat at the back of the bus, curling into yourself and allowing your built-up tears to fall down your cheeks as the bus begins to pull away from the stop. You watch the world go by as you listen to music and as the bus drives past the bus stop closest to Juliet’s house, you pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket and hide your location from Tim as well as shutting your phone off completely. You knew it would’ve been wiser to have left your phone behind at the house but you liked the security of having it just in case something happened, even if you wanted nothing to do with Tim right now.

You rode the bus until the end of its route, getting off at the last stop and making your way along the familiar paths you used to take when things got too much for you at the children’s home. You follow the route that was burned into your memory, silently wishing you had brought Kojo along with you just for company. When the familiar run-down cabin comes into view, you’re reminded of all the times you had sought refuge there on particularly bad nights. The cabin was on the outskirts of the city, somewhere that you knew people wouldn’t think to look if anyone did think to look for you.

Not that anyone ever looked for you when you left.

As you enter the cabin, you’re hit by the chilly, damp air that had been festering in the cabin that had remained untouched for a while now. You make a beeline for the small mattress that lays on the floor, immediately pulling your blanket out of your bag and prepping a sad-looking bedspread. Once you made up some semblance of a bed, you grabbed a container of food you had packed and ate a little bit of the food, trying to save what you could. Once you had eaten, you pulled your hoodie off, bunching it up and turning it into a makeshift pillow before lying on the mattress, tugging the blanket around you tightly. The cabin was not built to keep the cold out and you had regretted not bringing anything warmer. As you curled up, more tears filled your eyes, spilling out from under your eyelids. You couldn’t believe Tim had flipped on you completely and you didn’t know what you had done to get that treatment from him. You also found yourself missing Kojo already. He always curled up with you on the bed and provided you with the companionship you needed in this moment. You continue to cry quietly until your exhaustion begins to get the better of you, making you slip into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Tim wakes up in a slightly better mood than he was last night. He was still annoyed and upset that he was back on patrol instead of working with Metro, but he figured that he should be grateful that he at least still had his job within the LAPD. As Tim gets ready to take Kojo on his morning walk, he finds his dog still lying by the front door, whimpering softly.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go for a walk.” Tim says, grabbing Kojo’s lead and clipping it onto his collar but Kojo remains in place, refusing to move.

“Kojo, you love your walks why are you acting like this?” Tim grumbles, tugging lightly on the lead to try and entice Kojo to get up. When Kojo remains in place, whining softly at Tim who lets out a strong sigh.

“Kojo, come on,” Tim says through gritted teeth, gently nudging Kojo with his foot and encouraging him up onto his feet and out of the door. Kojo trailed behind Tim dejectedly, clearly not enjoying the walk as much as he usually did. Taking in Kojo’s dampened mood, Tim decided to cut the walk short, heading back home when he had enough of Kojo’s constant tugging to go back home. When he got home, Kojo laid himself by the front door once more, continuing to whine softly.

“What has gotten into you?” Tim wonders out loud, glancing at his dog with a confused expression as he walks past, making his way to his room to shower and get ready to head to Mid-Wilshire. As he finishes getting ready for work, Tim goes to the kitchen to grab himself some coffee before leaving the house, petting Kojo on the way out before trying one last attempt to get Kojo to go and lie down somewhere more comfortable and when he’s met with resistance he gives up and makes his way out to his truck to head to work.

Upon arriving at Mid-Wilshire, Tim heads into the station, and nearly walks straight into Lucy, stopping in his tracks and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Good morning.” Tim greets her awkwardly with a curt nod, side-stepping around her and making his way to the locker room to get changed into his uniform. He knew things were awkward with Lucy. He had broken her heart by breaking up with her and also shattered his own in the process. He had loved Lucy so much and it wasn’t an easy choice for him in the slightest. He did it to protect her. Tim knew he was too broken to maintain a relationship with her and he knew that Lucy deserved better and she would find better. After changing into his uniform, Tim heads to the rec room ready for morning roll call. Grey soon steps into the room once everyone has gathered and begins the roll call. After everyone is dismissed, Tim is stopped by Grey before he has the chance to leave.

“Bradford. Doctor London is here and she’ll be joining you on a ride along for a psychological evaluation.” He says, already predicting Tim’s reaction before he has even finished his sentence.

“Are you serious?” Tim asks, looking at Grey like he’d grown a second head.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Grey asks, folding his arms across his chest as he raises an eyebrow, seemingly challenging Tim.

“No, sir,” Tim says, backing down and shaking his head.

“I thought I didn’t. This is required to tell us whether you’re fit for duty. Go and get it over with and we’ll take relevant action wherever we need to. You’re also riding with Thorsen today.” Grey says, gesturing towards the door with his head as Tim lets out a weak sigh, nodding his head and making his way out so he can go and talk to Doctor London much to his annoyance.

“Sergeant Bradford,” Aaron says, noticing Tim and waving him over as Tim rolls his eyes, approaching him and who he could only assume was Doctor London.

“You must be Doctor London,” Tim says, stopping in front of the two and eyeing up the woman who nodded nervously.

“I am, yes,” Blair says, offering her hand out for Tim to shake which he does.

“Officer Thorsen, go and grab the war bags. Doctor London, you can follow me to our shop.” Tim says, already wanting to get the day over and done with.

“You’re already very dismissive of this evaluation,” Blair notes, watching as Tim rolls his eyes.

“I don’t need this but I’m tolerating it for the sake of my career,” Tim says, glancing over at Blair and folding his arms across his chest, a protective gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Blair.

“I got the war bags,” Aaron announces, entering with the two large bags and shotguns, smiling oblivious to the tension between Blair and Tim.

“Good. Put them in the trunk.” Tim says, already beginning to open the door and getting behind the wheel while Aaron puts the bags away before getting into the passenger seat while Blair gets into the back seat.

By the time it had gotten to their lunch break, Tim was fed up with Blair and her attempts at delving into his psyche. They headed back to the station to head out to where the food trucks were so they could grab something to eat. As they get food, Tim notices Angela sitting eating and crosses to sit with her.

“If I hear one more theory about why I act the way I do I’ll actually go mad and need psychiatric help,” Tim says as he plants himself in the seat opposite Angela, noticing the slight laugh that escaped her.

“I’d pay to see that.” Angela jokes, continuing to eat as Tim rolls his eyes.

“Glad you take joy in my misery,” Tim grumbles, aggressively stabbing his fork into his food as Angela’s eyes widen slightly in shock at the aggression.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to poke at you. I know things are pretty rough right now.” Angela apologises, feeling bad about teasing Tim in a vulnerable time for him.

“It’s okay,” Tim says quietly, offering Angela a soft smile to try and reassure her that everything is okay.

“So, how’s y/n doing?” Angela asks, lifting her drink to her lips and taking a sip as Tim’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“What?” He asks, confused by the question at first.

“y/n? How is she doing?” Angela repeats, growing concerned by Tim’s reaction as the gears begin to turn in her head.

“Oh, I think she said she was going to a friend’s last night. Something like that.” Tim shrugs and continues to eat his food as Angela processes what he said and frowns.

“What did you do?” Angela asks, making Tim look at her, shocked.

“What? Why do you think I did something?” He says, anger seeping into his tone in his defensiveness but Angela wasn’t one to back down against Tim.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Angela says, enunciating each word as she leans forward slightly in challenge to Tim. The two share a silent staring contest for a moment before Tim lets out a huff and leans back against his chair.

“She just went to a friend's house. I think she said something about a school project.” Tim reiterates watching as Angela sighs in frustration.

“Tim. Can you confirm she’s there? It’s not like you to use the phrase ‘I think’ when it comes to y/n. Usually, you know where she is every second of every day.” Angela says, confused by Tim’s nonchalant attitude towards your wellbeing.

“Fine. If it makes you feel better. I’ll pull up her location now.” Tim says exasperatedly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening the tracking app in his phone. As it opened, his eyebrows furrowed, and he flicked between looking at the map and the data bars in the corner.

“What’s wrong?” Angela asks, concerned by Tim’s reaction.

“Just give me a second.” Tim starts, refreshing the page and beginning to panic a little when your location doesn’t show up.

“Tim. What’s wrong?” Angela asks. Once again, Tim doesn’t give an answer, closing the app and opening his contacts, scrolling through the various phone numbers as he fights to recall which friend you had said you were spending the night at.

“Her phone must’ve died. I’ll call her friend’s mom.” Tim mutters, barely audible to Angela but she hears regardless and watches anxiously as Tim calls the number and lifts the phone to his ear, listening to each ring with bated breath.

“Hey, Tim.” Juliet’s mother, Eve greets as she picks up the phone.

“Hey, Eve. I just wanted to call and check on y/n. I think her phone must be dead or something because-”

“Sorry, hold on a second. y/n? She’s not here Tim.” Eve says, cutting Tim off.

“No, she told me last night that she and Juliet have a school project or something they needed to do.” Tim insists, wondering why Eve was telling him otherwise.

“Hold on, let me just grab Juliet and see if she’s spoken to y/n. But I promise you she’s not at our house, Tim.” Eve says hurriedly and Tim then hears her calling for Juliet to come to her so they can talk.

“Hey, Mom. What do you need?” Tim hears Juliet ask as she enters the room.

“Sweetie, have you heard anything from y/n today?” Eve asks, and all Tim can focus on at the moment is the silence that falls over the phone.

“No, we haven’t talked since we left school yesterday. Why, is everything okay?” Juliet says, worry seeping into her voice as the question her mother asked her begins to settle in her mind and alert her to the fact that something could be wrong.

“Tim…” Eve mutters into the phone, noticing the dead silence on the other end of the line.

“I have to go. Let me know if you hear anything from her.” Tim says quickly and apologetically before hanging up the call and looking at Angela who had watched the entire call with a worried expression.

“What happened?” Angela asks, concerned as Tim shoves his phone in his pocket.

“y/n didn’t go to her friend’s house last night and she hasn’t heard from her since they left school yesterday,” Tim says, already bracing himself for an angry rant from Angela but instead she grabs all her stuff and gets to her feet.

“Come on. We’re talking to Grey and we’re getting search parties going.” Angela says, gesturing for Tim to get up and follow her which he does, hurriedly grabbing his trash so he could throw it out before heading into the station with Angela who marches straight into Grey’s office.

“Sergeant Grey, we need to organise some search parties. y/n has gone missing.” Angela says, giving Grey no time to even ask why the two had barged into his office unannounced.

“What do you mean she’s gone missing?” Grey asks, concern creeping across his face when he registers what it is that has just been said to him.

“She left the house last night claiming she was going to a friend’s house but when I called her friend’s mom she told me that y/n never came over and that she and her friend hadn’t spoken since they left school yesterday,” Tim explains, once again trying the phone tracking app and fighting the urge to chuck his phone across the room when it once again comes up with no location.

“Did anything prompt this or do you think she was taken?” Grey asks, wanting to make sure he has all the facts straight before they start doing anything and Tim feels all eyes on him.

“I was an idiot. I was so upset about everything that happened with Metro and Lucy and I took it out on y/n. It’s my fault she’s gone.” Tim says, explaining what happened as the realisation sets in.

“We’ll find her. Do you know any places she’d go to other than her friend's houses?” Angela asks, approaching Tim and resting a hand on his shoulder to quietly reassure him.

“She never mentioned anywhere. She’d always come home if she felt unsafe or anything. Shit.” Tim starts, suddenly realising the weight of his actions and swearing quietly.

“What is it?” Grey asks.

“I made the one place she felt safe feel so unsafe that she left. I have no idea where she could’ve gone. She could get hurt or worse.” Tim says, the anxiety evident in his voice as he begins to pace nervously.

“Tim. Calm down. Look we’ll get officers looking for her. Here, send me a clear picture of y/n and we’ll send it to everyone patrolling so they know who they’re looking for.” Angela says, standing in front of Tim to stop his pacing. At Angela’s words, Tim nods, fumbling with his phone, his shaking hands fighting to remain steady as he finds a picture of you that would help officers recognise you if they saw you. Tim sends the picture to Angela who then forwards it to the appropriate people.

“Let’s get out on the streets and look for her. We’ll find her.” Grey says with a nod, getting up from his desk and gesturing for Tim and Angela to get out and start looking. But before Tim heads out to grab Aaron, he opens his texts and sends you a message, hoping by some miracle you’ll see it.

‘Hey, kid. Where are you?’

‘I promise I’m not mad or upset. I’m worried about you. You can come home.’

Across LA, you were still hiding away in the cabin that had been home to you on those rough nights. As you sat on the mattress, you felt tears welling in your eyes as you thought about the night before. It reminded you of the one other time you had been fostered and how you had been so badly treated that you hid away in this cabin until you decided that going back to Stan’s children’s home was a better option. You remember the harsh words they had thrown in your direction, how nowhere was safe for you. You had never had a home before until you met Tim. Tim had taken you in and given you a safe place to call home. You had an adorable dog who you loved most in the whole world. But you were scared to go back. You knew you wouldn’t be welcome. You knew Tim probably wanted nothing to do with you after all your pestering. You couldn’t blame him if he wanted rid of you. You should’ve known he would get fed up with you and want you gone.

After a few minutes of sitting on the mattress and feeling sorry for yourself, you then decide to dig through your bag and find your wallet, looking at all the money you have and counting it quickly. You knew you couldn’t use your card to make any payments because the LAPD would clock it almost immediately and be able to track you down before you even had a chance to realise your mistake. After counting your money, you figure you have enough to buy more food if you need to and you have enough to get a bus out of LA. You weren’t quite ready to hop a bus and leave LA but you wanted to make sure you had the money in case you wanted to leave. You wanted to at the very least give yourself a day or two to really think about whether it was worth staying in LA or not. As you feel your stomach rumble slightly, you dig in your bag for some snacks to tide you over. You hadn’t brought a lot of food with you so you needed to make sure it lasted as long as possible. As you eat, you feel a surge of emotion rush over you and you put the food down, burying your face in your knees and sobbing into them.

You had never felt so alone and unwanted in your life.

Unbeknownst to you, Mid-Wilshire was in panic mode with the news that you were missing and everyone was looking for you. They had no idea where you could be so their plan was to cover as much ground as possible and hope they found you quickly.

“Tim, where are we going?” Aaron asks, questioning where Tim is driving to as they begin their search. Tim doesn’t reply, instead just stops outside his house and jumps out, heading into the house before Aaron even has a chance to process what was going on. As Tim unlocks the door and enters the house, he notices that Kojo is still in the place he was when Tim left in the morning.

“Oh, Kojo… I’m sorry, buddy.” Tim apologises, crouching down to pet his beloved dog, realising that Kojo was acting up because he knew something was up with you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are we just making a pit stop so you can pet your dog?” Aaron asks, appearing in the doorway and looking at Tim, confused.

“Are you-? no! There might be some clues as to where she is.” Tim says, straightening up and heading to your room. The movement somehow encourages Kojo to follow him. Aaron also takes the initiative to follow Tim and when they enter your room he elects to stay put, not touching a thing while Tim looks through your desk drawers, leafing through old school work for any sign that could point him towards your location. As Tim looks around, Kojo hops up on your bed, whining as he lies down and studies Tim’s movements carefully.

“She’s taken clothes, her wallet, basically everything someone needs if they’re trying to run away,” Tim says, his voice growing angrier with each word said. None of his anger was directed towards you, but rather at himself for pushing you to run away.

“Okay, so we know she intentionally left. Our next port of call would be to check bus stations right? If she wanted to get far she’d need to get a bus or an Uber or something.” Aaron points out, snapping Tim from his panicked state and grounding him enough to realise that Aaron was making a good point.

“You’re right. Call that in. Get people checking bus station cameras, whatever they can.” Tim says, making Aaron nod and step out of the room to radio about checking buses. As Aaron steps out of the room, Tim pets Kojo once more, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“You knew something was up with y/n, huh? You knew and I brushed you and her aside. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Tim apologises quietly, feeling guilty that he couldn’t open his eyes for more than a second the night before long enough to realise your intentions when you left the house. He wished he could go back in time and not have raised his voice at you. He took his anger out on you and you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Sensing Tim’s mood, Kojo shifted and rested his head on Tim’s lap offering a wordless comfort that Tim appreciated, but didn’t feel deserving of.

“Hey, I’ve called it in. We should head to the nearest bus station and check their CCTV and talk to any bus drivers if we can.” Aaron says, appearing in the doorway again.

“Yeah, just give me a second. You can go and wait out by the shop.” Tim says with a nod, waiting for Aaron to leave the room before he gently shifts Kojo off his lap.

“I’ll be back. Hopefully with y/n.” Tim whispers softly to the dog, petting him one last time before leaving the room and heading out to where Aaron is waiting outside.

“Come on, let’s go,” Aaron says, already beginning to get into the vehicle before Tim has even had a chance to lock the front door.

“I’m coming.” Tim says, locking the door quickly and hurrying to the shop and getting behind the drivers seat, starting the engine and beginning the drive to the bus station he knew was closest to his house.

When they arrive at the bus station, they were both quickly aware of the stares they were getting as they enter the station and making their way to the ticket booth to speak to the employee.

“Hello, officers. Can I help you?” The employee asks, glancing between the two of them and Tim could see the slight fear in their face as they spoke.

“I’m Officer Bradford, this is Officer Thorsen. We just have a few questions about something, is there someone we could speak to, and who could allow us to look through some security footage?” Tim asks, watching as the employee grows more nervous.

“Yes, I’ll grab my manager. Give me a minute.” They say quickly, scurrying off to go and find someone who could help them. As they wait, Tim looks at the various boards they have displayed in the station, showing the various buses and where they go to. As his eyes scan the board, he feels more fear swirling in his stomach making him feel nauseous as he reads city names he knew were far away. He had no clue if you had hopped a bus going to a different city or a different state and that thought alone terrified him.

“Officers? I’m James, the manager. We can head back to my office.” Tim and Aaron turn around to come face to face with the manager and they nod in tandem, following James back to his office.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Aaron says gratefully as they enter the small office, all three men sitting on the available chairs in the office.

“No need to thank me. What brings you here today?” James says, dismissively waving his hand before focusing on the two as Tim digs into his pocket, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it so he can show James the picture of you.

“Have you seen this girl? If she had come here it would’ve been last night. Probably sometime around eight or nine pm?” Tim asks, showing the photo to James who studies the picture closely, eyes squinting slightly as he takes note of every detail.

“It’s hard to say for sure. I mean we get so many people coming in and out of here I’m sure you can understand that it’s hard to confirm that. I was mostly working back here last night but we can check the security cameras? They’re not the best quality but it’s worth checking.” James says, frowning slightly and letting out a slightly irritated huff at himself when he doesn’t recognise you in the photo.

“It’s worth a look,” Aaron says, nodding as James motions for the two to come around his desk so they can look at his screen and what the security cameras had captured the night before.

“This is the camera angled at the ticket booth, assuming she bought a ticket here rather than online.” James muses, eyes scanning the various people appearing on the screen.

“I can’t see her. Shit.” Tim sighs, bowing his head in shame when skimming through the footage shows him nothing of use.

“Okay, we clearly need to look elsewhere. James, if it’s okay with you I’m going to put you in contact with someone who will want you to send over the footage so they can do a more thorough check. But thank you for being so cooperative.” Aaron says, digging in his pocket for his card, scribbling a contact down and handing the card to James before he and Tim head out of the office. Tim rushes by Aaron, getting into their shop as quickly as possible and the second he is in his seat he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts you again.

‘y/n, please come home.’

‘Or tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. It doesn’t matter where.’

‘If you don’t want to see me, that’s fine too. I can send someone else to get you instead.’

‘I’m just really worried about you. Please let me know you’re okay.’

Tim types and sends multiple messages, his mind reeling with worst-case scenarios about what could happen to you. While he knew you left the house intentionally to run away, he also knew that you could get hurt or worse and he’d have no idea where you were.

“Maybe we should head back to the station. See if anyone has found anything.” Aaron offers as he gets in the passenger seat and Tim’s head snaps to look at him, a furious look on his face.

“You’re telling me you want me to give up looking for my kid?” Tim asks, the anger evident in his voice as he glares at Aaron who almost shrinks back in his seat under the intensity of the glare.

“I’m not saying that. But someone might have some information so it’s worth checking at the station.” Aaron says, holding his hands up defensively and trying to calm the tension.

“Plus, you probably need a break. You’re stressing out and it won’t help you or y/n if you’re running yourself ragged right out of the gate.” He continues, watching as Tim lets out an irritated huff sitting back in the seat and moving to grab the wheel.

“Fine, but if anything comes in while we’re on our way back we’re going there,” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive to the station. On their way back, no calls came in so they arrived at the station disappointed. Tim makes his way to the break room, grabbing some snacks and pouring himself a coffee, while his back is turned, he hears the door open and glances over his shoulder to see Lucy entering.

“I heard about y/n. I’m so sorry.” Lucy starts quietly, while Tim shakes his head, knowing he is unworthy of any sympathy from her. When Tim remains silent, Lucy takes a small step closer, making Tim turn to face her properly.

“I still may be mad at you for what’s happened but y/n isn’t a part of that and I feel awful that she’s missing. I’m going to do what I can to find her. I’d never wish for someone’s kid to go missing, no matter how much they upset me.” Lucy says softly as Tim looks away, trying to regain control of his emotions. It was hard enough for him to manage his feelings regarding everything that happened prior to you going missing. Now he not only had the extensive fear of never seeing you again but also the emotions of Lucy showing him any compassion after what he did sent him into a spiral and he didn’t know how to handle any of them.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Tim whispers, furiously blinking in hopes of keeping his tears at bay. In seeing Tim’s broken state Lucy glances over her shoulder, and when she sees no one nearby she steps closer, winding her arms around Tim and hugging him tightly. The embrace takes Tim aback at first, stiffening up at the sudden comfort before he hesitantly wraps his arms around her, ducking his head to rest it on her shoulder.

“Let it be known I’m still upset with you,” Lucy whispers, reiterating herself as she feels Tim nod against her shoulder.

“I know,” Tim replies quietly, knowing he didn’t deserve any kindness from Lucy at this moment but relishes the embrace while it is being held. After a few seconds, Lucy releases Tim from the embrace and looks up at him for a moment. The two held a stare for a brief moment before Lucy cleared her throat and looked away from him.

“I’m going to head out and see if I can find anything. I’ll let you know if I do. Take care of yourself.” Lucy says softly with a nod before backing away and exiting the break room, leaving Tim alone with tears in his eyes.

When Tim’s shift came to an end after a few more hours of searching, he didn’t want to leave and everyone knew it. He tried desperately to get Grey to let him work overtime but Grey shook his head.

“Bradford, you need to go home and rest. You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet. The night shift will keep an eye out for her and listen out for any reports. The moment we find anything out you will be informed.” Grey says sternly, folding his arms across his chest and watching Tim carefully as he sighs.

“Fine.” Tim concedes, barely listening to Grey’s goodbye as he makes his way out to the locker room to get changed and head home. As Tim leaves the locker room, he is painfully aware of the pitiful gazes the other officers are giving him. He knew most of them had probably recognised who you were from the picture.

But Tim didn’t want their pity. He wanted to find you.

When he got home, Tim was positively miserable. He opened the door and couldn’t help but frown when he saw Kojo lying in the hallway, feeling even more guilty when Kojo approached him, sniffing at him before whining softly.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers, reaching down to pet Kojo gently. After discarding his bag on the floor, Tim makes his way to the living room, collapsing on the sofa and burying his head in his hands as he sighs loudly. Tim felt awful about this whole situation. It was his fault you were gone. When he lifts his head, he decides to check his phone and see if you’ve replied. Instead, he just sees his messages and no proof you had read the messages.

That night, Tim could barely sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, aware of Kojo’s irritated huffs as Tim rolled over for the hundredth time. All he could see when he closed his eyes were images of you getting hurt. Every time he thought he was getting close to sleep he thought of a new scenario and he was wide awake in seconds a continuous loop that played out over the entire night.

When the next day of searching yielded no results, Tim was fully panicking going into the second full day of searching. He knew if more days passed without finding you, there’d be an even lesser chance of finding you. Everyone was walking on eggshells around Tim, he was more irritable, and he’d snap at anyone who asked him a question that neared too close to the topic of you. There was still no evidence that you were in LA yet there was no evidence you had left either. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth entirely. When Tim left the house on the morning of the second full day of searching, he was hoping today would be the day someone would find you.

In your secluded cabin, you were running low on food so you had to make a choice. You needed to decide whether you would go into the city to buy food, or not risk it and just get out of the city entirely. When your stomach growled louder, you figured it would be best to go and grab some food from the nearest store you could find and then you could head back to the cabin and pack up to be ready to head to the nearest bus station to get out of LA.

After all, you were certain no one was looking for you.

You head out of the cabin, tugging on a hoodie as you leave and make your way down to the nearest corner store. You browse up and down the aisles, looking for various snacks that could last you a long journey and that weren’t too expensive so you could afford a ticket to whichever place looks most appealing to you when you get to the bus station. You end up grabbing a few of your favourite things that you knew would last you a long journey before you could buy more food. Once you’ve picked what you want, you approach the counter, smiling at the employee who scans your items and then gives you your total. You dig out the appropriate cash and hand it to the employee, thanking her as she hands you your items in a bag. As you leave the store, the employee grabs the phone by the register, immediately dialling the police.

Lucy was the first officer on the scene after the employee called in a sighting of you and was now currently standing in front of the employee, getting all the information she could.

“She came in and bought some food. Just snacks, chips, water, stuff like that.” The employee, named Molly explains, fiddling with her fingers.

“Did you see which way she went once she left?” Lucy asks, getting ready to make notes.

“Yeah, she exited and went that way,” Molly says, walking to the door and pointing in the direction you had walked.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Lucy says quickly, wanting to search the area as quickly as possible. She knew the LAPD hadn’t thought to look this far since most thought you’d be in the centre of the city or gone entirely. She and the other officers decided to spread out and search the area, making sure to instruct everyone to not tell Tim unless there was good news.

As Lucy patrols the area, searching for places you could potentially be hiding. She finds her gaze drifting to the woodland area just on the outskirts of the area. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the area, thinking of all the potential places you could be hiding in there.

“Hey, I’m going to check over there,” Lucy calls over to a nearby officer, pointing out where she’d be heading before beginning the short trek up to the area. She walks around, keeping an eye out for anything that could be a place for you to hide, one hand on her gun holster just in case she needs it. After about half an hour of searching, Lucy stumbles across a cabin and she figures it is the perfect place for someone to hide out if they don’t want to be found so she approaches the door, pounding on it and calling out.

“y/n, are you in there?”

“Lucy?” You whisper, barely audible as you stop shoving things into your bag. You debate remaining silent and hoping that Lucy doesn’t come in but after hearing Lucy’s voice, you realise how much you missed being around everyone. How much you missed your home. How much you missed Kojo. How much you missed Tim. Before you can get up and open the door, Lucy does it for you, entering and stopping in the doorway when she notices you.

“y/n…” Lucy starts, beginning to cross to you carefully, stopping just in front of you and crouching down to be at your level.

“Hey, Lucy.” You say weakly, attempting a small smile.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out the last couple of days, huh?” She muses lightly, looking around the small cabin as you nod.

“I used to come here a lot when things were rough before.” You say quietly, making Lucy frown slightly.

“Did something happen with you and Tim?” Lucy asks carefully, watching as you nod.

“He seemed off the last few days and when he came home… I don’t know maybe I annoyed him but he snapped. It reminded me of bad times and I just wanted to get out of there.” You admit quietly, tears springing to your eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure Tim didn’t mean to snap at you. I know he cares for you.” Lucy says softly, willing to put her own anger and upset towards Tim aside to mend your relationship with him.

“I know. But it really hurt at the time.” You say, sniffling slightly to try and keep your tears at bay.

“I can imagine. I won’t force you to talk to Tim straight away but we can get you back to the station, you can have a shower and change and I’ll get you something proper to eat. Does that sound good?” Lucy offers, smiling gently as you nod.

“That sounds good.” You reply, a single tear slipping down your cheek. At your response, Lucy helps you pack your things away, picking up your bags and escorting you down to her shop so she can get you to the station. Once she gets you inside, she grabs you a spare t-shirt and pair of sweatpants for you to change into as well as handing you a towel so you can shower. Just before you disappear for your shower, Lucy asks you what you’d like to eat so she can order it to arrive by the time you finish your shower. Once you’ve picked what you want, you go for your shower and Lucy steps out of the locker room, opening her texts and messaging Tim.

‘We’ve found y/n. She’s okay, I’ve brought her back to the station.’

The moment Tim receives the message, he perks up, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he finally relaxes. He was desperate to drive back to the station right then and there, but he was in the middle of watching Aaron giving a ticket to a driver they had pulled over for reckless driving. And as much as he wanted to jump in the shop and drive off, he knew he couldn’t leave Aaron behind. Tim waits impatiently for Aaron to finish the exchange, silently willing the exchange to go quicker so he can get back to the station and check on you. When Aaron had finally finished giving the ticket out and sending the driver on their way, Tim was crossing to the shop as quickly as possible.

“Thorsen, come on we need to get going,” Tim says quickly, waving Aaron over.

“What’s up?” Aaron asks as the two get into the shop.

“Lucy found y/n. She’s at the station.” Tim says, already beginning to drive back to the station. Tim was fairly sure he was nearly breaking several road laws on his way back but all he wanted to do was get to the station. When they finally made it back to the station, Tim barely turned the engine off and pulled the keys out before leaping out of the shop and rushing into the building, quickly locating Lucy.

“Where is she?” Tim asks hurriedly, barely able to focus on anything.

“She’s in the break room. Tim, she told me what happened, take it easy on her.” Lucy urges softly, looking up at Tim.

“I will. Thank you for finding her. I owe you big time.” Tim says gratefully, knowing Lucy probably wanted nothing to do with him after this but he wanted to make sure she knew he owed her. After Lucy nodded in acknowledgement, Tim moved around her and made his way to the break room where you were sitting, picking at the food in front of you as you looked up to see Tim.

“Hi…” You whisper quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact with Tim as he softens, crossing to the chair opposite you and sitting in it.

“Hey, kid,” Tim says, studying your expression carefully as you tear up.

“I’m sorry.” You say, wiping at your eyes harshly.

“No, I’m sorry. I took my anger out on you the other night and you didn’t deserve it.” Tim says, stopping you and taking the chance to apologise himself.

“I didn’t tell you about this before but I’ve been fostered once before. I was about seven when it happened but the people were assholes. They constantly shouted at me and threatened me. When you snapped at me it just reminded me of them.” You explain, too afraid to watch Tim’s reaction as you explain yourself.

“y/n. I’m so sorry I reminded you of them. I never wanted to remind you of anything like that. I wanted to provide you with a safe home and I took that away from you.” Tim apologises, feeling guilt sinking in his stomach as he realises how much he hurt you with what he did.

“But I’m sorry for scaring you. I saw your messages just before you got back. I hurt you too.” You apologise, frowning as Tim shakes his head.

“I deserved it. You didn’t.” Tim insists, and while you knew you could bicker back and forth with him about who hurt who more, you were exhausted.

“Can we go home?” You ask, watching as Tim nods, already standing up from his seat and packing your food away so you can eat it at home.

“Of course we can. Come on, I know a certain someone has missed you the most.” Tim says as you pick up your bags following Tim to his truck and getting in so Tim can take you home. The moment Tim parked the truck, you got out and made your way into the house, smiling widely when you saw Kojo who perked up upon seeing you, leaping up from where he was lying on the floor and practically leaping up at you as you crouch to his level, pushing you onto your back and smothering you in kisses.

“I’ve missed you so much, Kojo.” You say, giggling as Kojo continues to lie all over you, whining happily as he continues to lick at your face.

“Kojo, come on buddy, let her breathe,” Tim says with a laugh, his words making Kojo back off slightly, sitting alongside you as you sit up, petting Kojo as he pants happily. When you get up, you decide to put your bags back in your room, putting your clothes and blanket in the washing machine to wash them before heading into the living room and curling up on the sofa while Kojo and Tim join you. Kojo curled up under your arm, snuggling close to you as Tim put the tv on.

“It’s good to have you home, kid,” Tim says softly, smiling over at you as you smile back.

“It’s good to be home.” You admit, petting Kojo as you focus on the tv, the drama of the last few days seemingly a thing of the past.

Being with Tim and Kojo was where you belonged. They were your family and you wouldn’t trade them for anything. You knew Tim had problems when it came to opening up about anything, but you had learnt not to push so hard this time, and maybe one day he’d find someone to open up to about it so he’d feel less alone. But for now, you were just going to enjoy the afternoon with your loved ones. Grateful to be home.

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

@starlightandsouls @whirlwind2005 @callsigns-haze @fore45fore @reignsboy19 @xi1dius @plutotcles @lives-in-midgard @mystical-258 @malindacath

The Kay Princesses' Happily Ever After

This is intended to be Part 2 of The Kay Princesses

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: Deacon wants to marry you, but he has to ensure that his kids understand and agree before he proposes. Then, you have a special question for Lila.

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, Annie's fate is up to you

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

A/N: While this is a part 2, it is written from a different POV. I think it could also be read as a standalone, but there are references to the events of part 1. I hope you enjoy!! :)

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Rules & Info

Deacon’s kids don’t get to visit him at HQ much anymore, so when they have a day off school and 20 Squad is on standby, he decides to take them by. His team loves seeing them and playing with them – none more than Luca. While they’re there, however, Deacon decides that today is also the day to ask them the most important question he may ever ask. He wants to marry you, he’s known that for much longer than he has had the ring, but he has to get their approval first. Since the beginning, you and he have both understood that if any of the kids said no, you would step back. Deacon prays that you don’t have to step back after walking so far together.

After he calls Matthew, Lila, and Samuel back to his side, he prepares to leave for the day.

“Hey, good luck, Deac!” Luca calls.

Deacon nods his head in thanks, then leads his kids back to the car. He gets to spend the afternoon with them for once, so he’ll ask them as soon as he finds the right words. They eat lunch together, then the kids go to their separate rooms to entertain themselves while Deacon cleans the kitchen.

When he’s done, Deacon takes a deep breath and walks to Lila’s room. She’ll probably say yes, but Deacon prepares himself for the worst. Her door is open, and she’s lying on her bed coloring.

“Lila, can we talk for a minute?” Deacon asks from the doorway of her room.

“Yeah, Daddy,” she answers.

Deacon nods, and Lila frowns at the look on his face. He’s nervous, and she can tell that something isn’t quite right. After he closes her door, he sits on the side of her bed and takes a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Lila asks.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart, I just need to ask you something. But, if you want to say no, you can. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Deacon says your name, then stops. He hasn’t told the kids how serious things have gotten with you yet. His team knows, of course, but this is the moment where a single word from any of his children could end what he has with you.

“I want to marry her,” Deacon adds softly. He smiles kindly at Lila before he asks, “Would you be alright with that?”

Lila slides her coloring book aside and climbs into Deacon’s lap. He holds her upright, so she doesn’t fall, and when she wraps her arms firmly around him, he tightens his grip on her.

“Will she live here?” Lila asks.

“Yes, or maybe we could get another house.” He doesn’t want to explain that if they don’t want you in the same house where they knew Annie, he’d move without question.

“And she’ll look like a princess in her white dress, right?”

Deacon smiles as he answers, “Absolutely. And you can wear a dress to be a princess, too.”

“I like her,” Lila says. “I want you to get married.”

Deacon sighs, and hugs Lila to his chest. He whispers that he loves her, and Lila laughs before she murmurs, “I know.”

When Deacon exits her room, he sees the sign hanging across the hall that says, ‘Boys Only (except Lila).’ Samuel will be easily convinced; he thinks you’re the greatest person ever because you know all the shortcuts in Candy Land. Matthew, however, despite having come a long way in his treatment of you, may not be so eager to welcome the idea of having you around all the time. Deacon knocks on the door, and it pushes open.

“Dad! Look!” Matthew calls. He holds up two toys that he has hooked together. “It worked.”

“That’s awesome, bud. Good job,” Deacon responds. “Can you take a break from playing for a minute? I need to ask you something.”

“You’re getting married?” Matthew guesses as he sets his modified toy aside.

“I- why do you think that?” Deacon asks.

“Uncle Luca told you good luck,” Samuel interjects. “Why do you need it?”

“Alright, boys, let’s go back. I want to get married, yes, but if you don’t want me to, I won’t. So, are you comfortable with her being here more?”

“Yes!” Samuel cheers. Deacon smiles, though he suspected as much.

“She’s not replacing Mom, right?” Matthew asks quietly.

“Not at all.”

Matthew nods. “You should do it, Dad. I like her, and she makes you happy.”

Deacon pulls Matthew into a hug without much thought. Matthew groans but returns the affection. Soon, there will be another Kay Princess in the house who may get an exception to the boys-only rule.

Kids are notoriously bad at keeping secrets, and the bigger the secret, the faster it will be shared. So, the moment Deacon learns that his kids like you and support his decision to marry you, he calls you. There’s not much planning or time to make the moment special, but Deacon can’t go another moment without asking you. As Hondo said, the ring is burning him after holding onto it for so long.

When you knock on Deacon’s door, you expect him to open it. Instead, Lila welcomes you in wearing her favorite dress.

“You look beautiful, Lila,” you tell her.

She hugs you, then leads you through the house and to the back door. Outside, the lights Deacon put up to decorate his backyard are aglow in the darkening dusk sky. Deacon stands beneath the tree in the center of the yard, and Matthew and Samuel wait on the deck.

“What’s going on?” you ask them.

Samuel presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head while Matthew answers, “A surprise. Dad wants to tell you.”

“Oh,” you reply softly.

Lila waves for you to go, and you walk off of the deck and into the grass. When you reach Deacon, his smile changes. He takes both of your hands and pulls you closer.

“Thanks for coming,” he begins.

“Of course. What’s going on?” you inquire. “This is beautiful, but…”

“You’re beautiful,” Deacon replies. “And you’re smart, caring, you love my kids… I love you, and every princess quality that you have. I can’t imagine my life without you on my team.”

Deacon releases your right hand as he kneels. Your eyes widen as he pulls a black box from his pocket.

“Will you do me the honor of marrying me, and being on my team, at my side, for the rest of our lives?”

You nod quickly, unable to speak past the tears pressing against your eyes. After a shaky breath, you mumble, “Yes, Deacon. Yes!”

He slides the ring onto your finger, and you don’t even look at it before you hug him. Deacon’s arm wraps tightly around your waist, and he holds you against him as he stands. Behind you, his kids cheer together. You pull back enough to kiss him, then look over your shoulder at Lila, Matthew, and Samuel.

“They’re okay with this?” you whisper.

“More than okay. They’re gaining another Kay princess in their lives, too,” Deacon assures you.

You watch Lila twirl in her dress and realize that they’re as much a part of this as you are.

“Deacon, can I ask Lila to be my maid of honor?”

Deacon smiles and kisses you again. Being a Kay princess is far more rewarding than you anticipated.

“Good morning,” Deacon greets when he answers the door. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome, as always,” you reply.

Deacon welcomes you in, and you kiss his cheek as you pass him.

“Is she ready?”

“Almost.” Deacon laughs before he drops his voice to explain, “She keeps changing. She wants to look perfect.”

“Then would you please take her this?”

You pass Deacon a pink gift bag, and he can’t deny your smile, so he delivers it to Lila’s room. Her squeal reaches your ears in the living room, and your smile widens as Deacon returns.

“What is it?” Deacon asks.

“A matching princess dress. Today had to be special.”

“Every day is special with you.”

“We match!” Lila exclaims.

You look away from Deacon to see her standing before you. She smiles at you before she rushes to hug you. At Deacon’s silent prompting, she thanks you for the dress.

“Well, we’re off to enjoy a princess day,” you tell Deacon.

“Enjoy. Call if you need anything.”

You promise to do just that, then take Lila’s hand and lead her outside. It’s a big day for both of you. Lila gets to live like a princess and spend the day with another girl, and you get to ask her to be your maid of honor. You don’t doubt that she’ll say yes, but just in case, you have a backup plan to involve her in the wedding party another way.

By lunch, Lila is getting tired. She doesn’t want to stop, however, until you tell her about a fairytale-themed restaurant you’d like to try. Easily convinced, you hold her hand as you enter the whimsical building and are led to your seats.

“Lila, have you ever been to a wedding?” you ask her.

“Mmhmm. One of Dad’s work friends,” she answers.

“Do you know what a maid of honor is?” Lila shakes her head, so you ask, “What about a bridesmaid?”

“The girls who stand with the bride?”

“Yep, those are bridesmaids. But the one that stands closest to the bride is called a maid of honor, and it’s usually the bride’s best friend or a girl who is really, really important to her.”

Lila nods along with your explanation, and when you see your waitress returning with your glittery pink princess drinks, you decide to ask sooner rather than later. You set an envelope on the table, with her name written elegantly across the front.

“Would you like to be my maid of honor, Lila?” you ask.

The waitress stops when she hears your question. She smiles and nods to assure you it’s fine to finish before she delivers your beverages.

“Like your best friend?” Lila whispers.

“Yeah. Because you’re super special.”

“And we’re both Dad’s princesses?”

You smile and answer, “That too.”

“Really?”

“Open the letter.”

Lila pulls the card out of the envelope. It’s a picture of a castle with two princesses curtseying, and underneath it reads, “Join me on our special day?”

“Yes!” Lila answers. “I want to!”

She slides out of her seat and rounds the table. Lila hugs you tightly, and you pull the chair beside you out so that she can stay on the same side of the table as you.

“Congratulations, your highnesses,” your waitress says. “I’m sure you’ll be the best maid of honor ever.”

“Thank you!” Lila replies.

“Thank you,” you add.

“So, what do I do?” Lila asks you.

“Lots of things. But I think we should get some lunch before we go shopping for your maid of honor dress.”

Lila quickly agrees and leans against your arm to look at the menu with you.

The morning of your wedding is spent getting ready with your closest friends and family. Luca and Street invite themselves into the bridal suite as well when they hear from Lila that you have snacks.

“Are you nervous?” Luca asks. “Deacon’s reviewed his vows like fifteen times.”

“Should I be?” you reply. “Because I’ve honestly never been this happy and excited in my life.”

“Me neither!” Lila agrees, swishing the skirt of her dress around her legs.

“Deac just wants it to be perfect, special for all of you,” Street adds.

“I would’ve married him at the courthouse the morning after he proposed,” you point out. “It’s already more perfect than I ever expected.”

“We’ll tell him that as soon as we’re done,” Street says, reaching for another cookie.

“Aren’t groomsmen supposed to stay with the groom?” you ask Luca.

“He told me to bring Lila back,” Luca argues. “Never said I had to return by a certain time.”

“Have you seen Deacon cry?” Street asks.

“No,” you say. “Why?”

“Because he is absolutely going to cry when you walk down the aisle, and during your vows, and again after it’s official.”

Luca nods in agreement, and you turn to make sure your mascara is waterproof.

When you step out onto the aisle, your eyes meet Deacon’s and everything else fades away. All that matters in this moment is Deacon Kay and the life you’re entering with him. Which includes his kids. Lila is waiting beside your spot with a smile, Matthew stands between Luca and Deacon on the other side, and Samuel is waving from the front row after delivering the rings to the officiant.

As you begin walking toward Deacon, you notice that he is crying. You blink quickly to clear your own vision, but the tears don’t dampen your smile or Deacon’s. When you reach the altar, you lower gently toward Lila. Matthew and Samuel come to your side as well, just as you practiced.

“Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you tell them. “I love you, Lila, Samuel, and Matthew.”

They hug you tightly, and Deacon wipes his eyes as you all return to your places. He takes your hands as the officiant welcomes everyone in attendance. You read your vows first, and Deacon cries again. When he begins his vows, however, you are very glad you double-checked that your makeup wouldn’t be ruined.

“… and you’re the most incredible princess I’ve ever had the joy of meeting,” Deacon says. The people around you chuckle, and you smile as you squeeze his hand. “Being loved by you is more special than any title I could have or other life I could live. I promise to treat you like the princess you are and love you more with each breath.”

You chuckle wetly, and Lila taps your side. She passes you a tissue, which makes everyone laugh, and you thank her before you use it to dry your cheeks.

“With those vows – and tears – you will now exchange rings.”

You slide Deacon’s simple band onto his finger, then offer your hand for your matching ring. The moment you are finished, the officiant pronounces you and Deacon man and wife, then steps aside for your first kiss. Just as when you walked down the aisle, everything fades away as you kiss Deacon, your husband, for the first time.

When you step back, your friends and family are cheering, and you pull Lila into a tight hug.

“Thanks for being a princess with me,” you say.

“We’re always princesses!” she replies with a giggle.

“Kay princesses,” Deacon agrees, wrapping his arms around both of you.

207 notes View Post

myfictionalbfs

1 year ago

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫

pairing || andy barber x fem!reader

word count || 3,865

summary || you and andy have been sneaking around for months and soon it might catch up to you two

warnings || drinking, throwing up, oral, reader has twins, andy cheating on laurie, oral receiving, oral giving, couch sex, making dinner, eating dinner, over the counter sex, taking care of teenagers, andy buying you stuff, beach house, beach house sex, name calling, breeding, ass fingering, pussy fingering

authors note || PLEASE REBLOG MY TAGLIST IS ENDING ON JULY 10TH PLEASE FOLLOW @dulceslibrary AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN I POST 18+ ONLY,, feedback is appreciated

𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 | 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑

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𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

Not Since I Found You

Requested Here!

Pairing: (divorced)Deacon Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

Warnings: Annie is completely different after removing the brain tumor, angst, lots of fluff, quick tense change

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon’s end-of-shift routine had changed drastically over the past year. Before, he would rush home to see Annie and hug his kids. Now, he sits on a bench in the locker room, looks at pictures of Matthew, Lila, and Samuel, and counts down the days until he can see them again. Anything he could do at work to delay going home to a cold and lonely apartment, he’d do it.

After Annie awoke from her surgery to remove the tumor in her brain, she was different. Deacon tried everything he could to remind Annie of why they fell in love and convince her that it could be the same as before. The Annie Deacon once knew was long gone, and the new Annie wasted no time filing for divorce and getting custody of the kids. So, Deacon spent the next year in a vicious cycle of loneliness, struggling to accept what has happened and wondering if he’ll ever feel alive again. But then, he left SWAT HQ on a random weekday, went to a park to walk, and met you. Then, suddenly, everything brightened again.

Less than a week later, you became part of Deacon’s life. He texted you often, made plans to hang out, and, by the end of the month, asked you on a date. Despite the heartbreak he’s been through and the misery he has allowed himself to stay in, Deacon fell for you quickly.

“Are you free tonight?” Deacon asks over the phone.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule,” you joke. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“My team is going out to dinner tonight, and I want you to come.”

“Deacon,” you begin.

“I’m sure,” he answers before you ask. “You’re important to me, and they’re my family.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Deacon corrects you. “See you tonight.”

Several hours later, you hold Deacon’s hand as you enter the restaurant. His team is his family, and you know that meeting them is important. Your relationship is getting serious, and tonight solidifies that.

“Hondo, Street, Chris, Tan, Luca, this is my girlfriend,” Deacon begins once you’re seated.

Immediately, you’re greeted with handshakes, hugs, questions, and smiles. Talking to them is easy. It's like they’ve been your best friends for as long as they’ve been Deacon’s. Deep down, however, a small, nagging question wonders if they like you or if this is an act for Deacon’s benefit.

After you receive your drinks, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and Chris joins you.

“Thank you,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug in the privacy of the women’s room.

“For what?” you question.

“Being so great for Deacon. Watching what he went through with Annie was… it was awful. But then you came along, and he’s happy again. We want the best for him, and that’s you.”

“You think so?”

Chris scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “If you could see how he looks at you, you wouldn’t have a single doubt. You’re good for each other, and he loves you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

“More importantly than Deacon, you also got a new best friend.”

“Street?” you tease.

She shoves you gently before she loops her arm through yours. “No one likes Street, that’s one thing you need to know.”

“Deacon seems to,” you argue playfully.

“Deacon has a thing for strays.” Chris realizes what she implied and adds, “Not you!”

“I got it. We’re best friends now, right? So, don’t worry about offending me.”

“Oh, I knew I’d like you.”

“Sorry,” Tan says as he pulls his shopping cart toward him.

“No worries,” the person behind the other cart says.

“Annie?” Tan questions, stepping forward to see her.

“Victor, hi,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Annie,” a man calls as he walks down the aisle. “Sorry.”

“It’s our second date and we both forgot that cooking requires ingredients,” Annie explains.

“Well, good for you,” Tan says. “Glad to see you and Deacon are both moving on. Have a nice night.”

Annie watches Tan walk past; though her date is talking to her, she can only focus on one thing. Deacon and another woman. Annie may not love him anymore but does not appreciate the visual. She doesn’t want to see Deacon with someone else, no matter what.

“Annie?” her date tries again. “Tomato basil or marinara?”

“You pick,” she mumbles. He nods and weighs the options while Annie considers what she could do to ensure that Deacon won’t move on. As far as she’s concerned, he has no reason to move on after her.

Deacon is nearly ready for your date when someone knocks on his door. He is surprised to see Annie and his kids standing outside. When Lila reaches forward to knock, he pulls the door open and squats to hug her.

“Hey!” he greets as the boys join the hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you!” Lila answers happily.

“Something came up and I have to meet someone, not sure when I’ll be done,” Annie says. She looks at his nice outfit and adds, “But if you’ve got plans, I can-“

“No, no,” Deacon replies hurriedly. “I can watch them.”

“Great. Thanks, David.”

Annie disappears down the hall, smiling to herself for her success in keeping him from meeting his date. While she celebrates her perceived victory, Deacon takes his kids inside, abandons his suit jacket on a chair, and dials your number.

“Hey, Deac,” you greet when you answer.

“Hi,” he begins. “I’m so sorry, but Annie just dropped the kids off and needs me to watch them tonight.

“I understand, Deacon. Enjoy your time with them; we can reschedule.”

“Thank you.”

Lila reaches up toward Deacon’s phone, and he smiles as he lowers it and puts it on speaker. “Someone wants to say hi,” Deacon tells you.

“Hi!” Lila calls.

“Well, hello, Lila,” you reply happily. “I hope you have fun with your dad tonight.”

“Are you coming over?” she asks.

“You can if you want,” Deacon adds before you can answer.

“What does Lila want?” you inquire.

Lila smiles up at Deacon, and he answers for her, “She wants to see you.”

“What if I come over for dinner and then let you enjoy some family time after?” you suggest.

“That sounds perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Deacon ends the call and sits on the couch with his kids. Spending time with them and you is better than the expensive reservation you had, he thinks. Deacon may never know what Annie’s plan was, but her attempt at sabotage actually made Deacon’s night better. Besides, you’d already met his kids when they stayed with him for a weekend, and they enjoy your company almost as much as he does.

“Here to see Deacon?” Street asks when he notices you waiting at SWAT HQ.

“I am,” you answer with a smile. “He’s in a meeting; Hondo told me I could wait here.”

“Don’t make me give you a parking ticket,” he teases.

Around the corner, Annie stops when she hears Deacon’s name. More, when she hears that another woman is here to see Deacon. She doesn’t know if it’s the same person Tan mentioned or the same one whose date she interrupted, but she doesn’t like it. After Street leaves, she walks into the common area and sees you sitting in a chair with your phone in your lap.

“May I?” Annie asks, pointing to the empty chair beside you.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, smiling.

“Thanks. So, are you a cop’s wife?”

“No, just a girlfriend.”

“Then you’re the brave one in the relationship,” Annie says.

“Not at all. I worry about him all the time.”

Annie hums before she muses, “Seems like that would put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“Well, the alternative is a complete lack of care and empathy. To me, that’s not even an option.”

“Sure, but… doesn’t that constant worry put a barrier between you? Or maybe your relationship is new enough that you haven’t noticed yet. He will.”

You nod and unlock your phone. Annie may not know you recognize her, but she’s in a few pictures at Deacon’s apartment. The first time you came over, he explained everything to you: the tumor, the sudden change in her personality, and how she broke his heart by leaving and taking his kids most of the time. You knew she had been changed by the tumor, but you didn’t expect she’d try to scare you into leaving Deacon.

Hondo steps out of the office and looks between you and Annie. When you lock eyes with him, he tips his head to invite you in while he walks toward Annie. You mouth thank you and walk quickly into the office where Deacon is. You decide not to tell him what Annie said, but you suspect he knows more about her new attitude than you do.

Annie slides a diamond ring onto her left hand and watches it glint in the light. She came to the jewelry store to get Lila a necklace for her birthday and was distracted by the row of shining engagement rings. When Deacon proposed, they were young, and he got a sentimentally rich ring that was cheap. At that point, she loved it, but now she wonders what it would have been like to have received a ‘real’ ring. She doesn’t miss Deacon, but she misses his devotion to her, how he’d never as much as look at another woman.

The bell over the door rings as it opens, and Annie returns the ring to the saleswoman and asks to see any kids’ jewelry they have.

“Annie?” Deacon asks.

Annie turns toward the door and smiles when she sees him. “David. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, glancing at the engagement ring being returned to its display.

“Shopping for Lila’s birthday. I was thinking I’d get her a necklace; she’s been talking about getting one for weeks.”

Deacon nods, aware that Lila wants a necklace because she loves the one you wear daily.

“What about you? You’ve never been a jewelry guy,” Annie points out.

You don’t know what kind of guy I am anymore, Deacon thinks. “Just replacing the chain,” Deacon says, tugging on the necklace tucked under his shirt.

Annie nods and follows the saleswoman to a different display case as Deacon approaches a desk at the back of the store.

“I have a pickup for David Kay,” he tells the man at the desk.

The man types his name, nods, and excuses himself to retrieve the order. Deacon looks at the back wall but is aware of where Annie is (a job hazard and an annoyance in this situation).

“Here you are, Mr. Kay,” the man says as he passes a bag over the desk. “It has been sized and polished, as requested.”

“Perfect,” Deacon replies. “Thank you.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Annie asks.

“What girl?”

“You and I both know it’s not a necklace chain.”

“You and I don’t know anything anymore, Annie.” Deacon begins to step past her, then adds, “Lila would like the one with the silver branch and flowers.”

As he leaves the jewelry store with your engagement ring at his side, Deacon focuses on you rather than Annie’s odd reaction to thinking he is proposing. She’d been unjustly angry and jealous after her surgery, even accused Deacon of cheating on her with Chris, and that shift in her mindset hasn’t gone away.

You text Deacon as he gets in his car, and his questions about Annie disappear as he smiles at your name.

Your phone rings while you are waiting for Deacon to arrive. The number isn’t one you recognize, but you answer anyway.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hi, this is Annie Kay,” the woman on the other end says.

“Oh, um, hi,” you stutter. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think-“

“Listen, I’m just calling to warn you. I know that you think things are getting serious with David, Deacon, whatever you call him. But it won’t work out.”

“Annie,” you try to interrupt.

“It won’t work because he will never be as happy with you as he was with me.”

Deacon pulls in and parks, and you hang up on his ex-wife. The phone rings again, but you mute the ringer and walk out to greet Deacon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you answer.

Deacon shakes his head, and you admit, “Annie just called me. She wanted to tell me that you’d never be as happy with me as you were with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon sighs. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She really changed, didn’t she?”

Deacon nods as his arms wrap around you. “She was wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” you agree playfully. “Deacon, I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies. “So much.”

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are home with Annie the next time you and Deacon go on a date. He takes you to an overview where you can see where you met and brings a special picnic dinner. Around 8 p.m., Lila asks her mom to stay up later. Since there’s no school tomorrow, Annie agrees, and the kids watch the clock rather than the television above it.

Above Los Angeles, your watch changes to 8:15, and Deacon takes your hand as he encourages you to stand. He presses a button on his phone, and when the music begins to play, he pulls you close and dances with you. At 8:19 exactly, the song ends, and Deacon drops to one knee.

“Second chances aren’t guaranteed,” Deacon begins. “But you are by far the best second chance I’ve ever gotten. I love you more than I thought I could love anything ever again. You’re good with my kids, you don’t care that I’m used and have been broken over and over, and you never fail to make me feel like I’m the only man you’ll ever want.” Deacon pulls a velvet box from the picnic basket and raises the ring toward you to ask, “Will you keep loving me forever, and marry me?”

“Yes!” you yell, taking Deacon’s hand. “Deacon, yes.”

You drop to your knees to hug Deacon, but he redirects you to kiss you, and he pulls you just as close as when you were dancing. You and your love melt into Deacon for eternity.

In Annie’s living room, when the clock changes to 8:20, Matthew, Samuel, and Lila jump and cheer. Annie doesn’t know that her attempts to sabotage Deacon’s relationship will never work. Deacon’s children know they’re gaining a stepmom which is cause for celebration. However, everyone is in for a surprise when they learn Deacon plans to petition for custody.

“Deacon,” you say after you pull back. “You’re not broken.”

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “Not since I found you.”

496 notes View Post

myfictionalbfs

1 year ago

You Must Be Stuffed

Kinktober Day 2 Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader

Word count:878

Tags:NSFW, Modern AU, Unprotected sex(Don’t be silly wrap your Willy guys), drunk sex, breeding kink, slight manhandling

Synopsis:After one to many drinks you and Zoro try something he wanted to try for a while

Kinktober Masterlist | One piece Masterlist

You and Zoro’s night started off with the two of you drinking at a local bar before you two decided to take the drinks home with you when things became a little too loud.

You both are about 15 drinks in your words slur as you both speak about two different things, you speak about a show you just watched and Zoro speaks about how you're so pretty and gorgeous. Then he says something that causes you to stop talking and look at him, “Y/N I was thinking that we should try fucking raw, and me finishing inside of you.” he slurs most of his words but you understood him, you choke on your drink a bit of it coming out of your mouth.

“What did you say!?” wiping your mouth you look at him like he has three heads, but your thighs self consciously rub together, “I think that we should fuck raw and that you should let me finish inside of you multiple times. So want to do it right now?” He has a dopey smirk on his face he takes another sip of his drink, as he is drinking you sit there staring at him wondering if he is being for real or faking it, but then drunk words are sober words and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think about how he would feel raw and what drunk sex would be like.

“Yea I wanna do it right now” you blurt out watching as he gets up from his seat walking towards you, he grabs your arms and pulls you up to your feet; he then brings his hands to the side of your face and pulling you into a messy wet sloppy kiss, his tongue darts into your mouth tasting the drink you just had, pulling away a string of saliva connecting you both. “Come one, sweetheart” Zoro pushes towards your shared bedroom, closing the door behind you.

You sit on the bed watching as Zoro undresses in front of you, you grab your own shirt and tug it off throwing it next to the pile of his clothes, Zoro stands in front of you naked and hard; his thick veiny cock standing proudly against his stomach, pre cum dripping from his flushed tip. Zoro leans forward grabbing your waistband and pulling both your sweatpants and panties off in one swift motion.

The cold air hits your wet pussy causing you to shiver and whimper, “Shit your so wet” Zoro rubs his thumb up and down your cunt slowly pushing it in and out of your hole, “I don’t even need to prep you baby” he smirks down at you grabbing his hard cock, slipping the tip into your sopping hole, “Oh god you feel even better like this” he slurs from pleasure and drunkenness (?) “Shit. Zoro you feel so good.”

You can feel every ridge and vein on his cock, your cunt pulsing around him. Zoro starts to move his hips in a sloppy and rough way, the sound of his balls and hips making contact with you and the sound of you and Zoro’s loud slutty moans fills the room. The way Zoro thrusted into you had you feeling even more drunk than before, Zoro watches as your face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your eyes fill with tears each hard sloppy thrust he gives you.

“Oh god I’m so close, baby.” Zoro groans his orgasm approaching rather closely, “I’m close to Zo’ don’t stop please don’t stop.” You rub your clit in a fast motion as Zoro fucks you into the bed, within seconds your body is shaking as you cum all over his cock, “F-fuck Zoro” moaning as he fucks you even faster than before catching his own high, “O-oh fuck.” Zoro finishes deep inside your pussy, your hole becoming so full as his load fills you up.

“Shit. We’re not done yet Y/N.” Zoro pulls out of your cunt watching as his and your orgasm drips out your hole landing on the bed, “Turn around for me and put your ass up baby,” he helps you move to your knees, his cum starts to run down your thigh causing you to shiver. Zoro moves behind you roughly pushing your head down in the pillows beneath you thrusting his dick into your hole as soon as it comes into view. His thrusts are so hard that the slapping of his hips against yours causes you to jolt every time you make contact, “Zo’ you feel so good,” you slur drool seeping out your mouth and getting on the pillow.

Your cunt is so sensitive from your first orgasm that your second one comes quicker than before, “Zoro I’m coming” you squirt and cream on his cock your cunt tightening around his cock has him, your moans and cries are the only thing Zoro focuses on has he comes inside you again for the second time of the night, “Y/N” he moans leaning down to kiss and suck on your shoulder.

All movements come to a stop, you and Zoro’s heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard, Zoro kisses your neck before leaning back up; “One more time baby.”

©Bella2023

Tastes of Home and Cake

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!baker!reader

Summary: You own a popular bakery frequented by celebrities, but when the Mid-Wilshire police station hires you for a luncheon, you go out of your way to make cakes, cupcakes, and favourites to make the day special.

Warnings: fluff, Tim bring grumpy toward everyone except his wife who makes him a softie

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“The cast of Rings of Power will be here at 10:00 tomorrow instead of 10:15, is that okay?” your assistant, Kasey, asks.

“Of course,” you respond as you spin a tart pan to remove an air bubble from the filling. “Did you hear back from the Scuderia Ferrari people?”

“Oh, yes. I fit Charles and Lewis in for a lunch and tasting five days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix in November of next year.”

“Perfect!”

You pass the tart to one of your bakery sous chefs before you follow Kasey out of the kitchen. The small dining area of your bakery is full, and the door has been closed and locked to give your clients a private meal.

“Good afternoon,” you greet after removing your apron and straightening your outfit. “It’s a pleasure you have you here, and I hope you enjoy everything.”

After several minutes of speaking to your customers and promising to fit them into your booked schedule when they finish filming in several months, you return to Kasey’s side.

“How do you keep your cool talking to celebrities every day?” she inquires. “I talk to their agents on the phone and get a little starstruck.”

“Well, he’s one of the nicest people on the planet,” you point out, referring to Pedro Pascal sitting behind you. “And, at the end of the day, they’re still people. Well-known and sometimes really mean, but they’re customers, just like the small population of Los Angeles that we serve for a few hours every morning.”

“Speaking of that, I need to get back to the people in the LA Times about the feature they want to do on the bakery. Do you want to do it?”

You stop by a tray of cookies and sigh. “I don’t know. Part of me says yes, but then the side that isn’t caught up in the business wonders if it’s worth it to get longer lines and higher wait times.”

“Did you talk to your super-secret boyfriend about it?”

“I did. He wasn’t much help, basically said to do what I thought was right. Just… tell them not right now. If they take that as a no, that’s fine.”

Kasey nods and jots a note in her always-present journal before she notices the whiteboard where you make plans for tastings and events.

“Is all of that for the LAPD luncheon you’re catering?” she inquires, wide-eyed at the quantity and quality of items. “You know they’re paying a flat rate, right?”

“Kasey, I’m going to tell you a secret,” you reply as you slip your apron over your head. “My ‘super-secret boyfriend’ that you constantly ask about… He’s a cop. And my husband.”

“That explains the Madagascan vanilla shortbread cookies,” she mumbles. “Wait, can I meet him?”

“Me first!” one of your regular celebrities yells from the dining area.

You roll your eyes in amusement and then begin working on the croissants for the sandwiches and the dulce de leche cake for Mid-Wilshire’s annual officer appreciation party.

“This is Officer Thorsen,” Kasey introduces as you exit your car at the police station.

“Aaron,” you greet, welcoming his hug.

“Please tell me the department sprung for my favourite,” he replies.

“I might have thrown in a few goodies.”

“You are the best. I was honestly surprised when I heard they’d chosen your bakery.”

You shake your head at Kasey to remind her not to say anything. To her surprise, they didn’t contract with you because your husband works here, just because of your reputation in Los Angeles. The people working in this station don’t even know you have a relationship with one of their own, so your expanded menu should appear to be a nice surprise, showing your appreciation for the brave men and women who keep you and your city safe.

“This is my watch commander, Wade Grey,” Aaron introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer as you shake his hand.

“You, too. My wife has been wanting to visit your bakery, but we never seem to make it in time,” he replies.

“I’ve got some extras packed away in the van if you’d like to take her something. It’s the least I can do.”

“Baker to the stars… how do you like dealing with so many high profile people every day?”

“Most of them are great, just looking for a place to eat some carbs without the paparazzi. There are a few that I try not to have availability for, of course, but it’s the baking that I really love. My assistant handles most of the people side of things.”

“Well, we can’t thank you, and Kasey, of course, enough for fitting us into your schedule. We’ve been looking forward to it for a while.”

“Of course. I hope you don’t mind but I did throw in some free treats, just my way of saying thank you.”

“That’s incredibly kind of you. Let me know if you need any help setting up or finding anything.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Grey.”

After he returns to his duties, you try to let Aaron return to work, but he insists on helping you set up. Thirty minutes later, the bullpen has been turned into a space of food, appreciation, and more cakes and cupcakes than you remember making.

“I thought you said a few freebies?” Aaron murmurs. “Did you leave anything in the bakery?”

“I hope so. Ryan Reynolds will be a little disappointed if I didn’t,” you respond lightly. “I think I’m done here. Thanks for your help, Aaron.”

“Of course- I’m sorry, Ryan Reynolds?”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Someone gasps, and a moment later, Officer Chen runs up to Aaron’s side and smiles as she says your name.

“I watched the Food Network special on your bakery,” she exclaims. “I’ve never been more excited to eat in my life.”

“I hope you enjoy it,” you reply. “Thank you for all you do.”

“You might want to get food now, Lucy. It looks like a lot but it won’t last forever,” Aaron suggests.

“Precisely my plan,” Wade agrees as he exits his office. “It looks great.”

Standing back, you watch officers come in, chat with one another, and get plates of food and treats.

“That’s a lot of cake,” someone says behind you.

“It’s like you’re trying to set up the joke, Tim,” you respond without turning.

His fingers dance across your back before he moves to stand beside you.

“Too much?” you ask.

“No. I for one appreciate it. I’m glad my getting shot at equals roughly that much cake.”

You lean sideways to hit Tim with your shoulder, and he smiles as he rights himself. He moves away from you when he sees several officers walking toward you with cake and cookies on their plates.

“This is by far the most delicious cake I’ve ever had,” one says. “My mother-in-law is throwing me and my husband an anniversary party and if I have this cake, I’ll actually go.”

“She’s booked through spring of 2027,” Tim interjects. “So, unless you want to get on the waiting list for a tenth anniversary cake, it’s not gonna happen. Tell Mrs. Evers you can’t make it.”

“2027?” the woman beside her muses. “Good for you.”

“Thank you,” you answer. “You all have much more important jobs than me, though. Maybe my assistant can fit you in, so you don’t have to miss your own party.”

“See, Timothy? That’s what being nice gets you,” Angela taunts.

“Well, he’s actually the reason I even brought that cake,” you point out.

Angela cocks her head slightly, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth as she looks from Tim back to you. The woman beside her, who you assume is Nyla Harper based on Tim’s detailed stories, watches you with similar interest.

“It’s not even my favourite,” Tim grumbles.

“Don’t start with me, Bradford.”

“You made me taste test a bunch of stuff last weekend and I told you it’s good but not Malibu Rum cake good. There is no Malibu Rum cake.”

“Tim, she brought way more than we expected,” Lucy says as she joins your small circle. “Be nice.”

Tim sees your smile and rolls his eyes. Kasey walks by, on the phone with assumably another agent, and passes you three small boxes.

“For you,” you tell Tim. “Though I’m not sure you deserve it now.”

He sees your writing on the corner above the clear plastic top, Malibu Rum <3, and tugs your belt loop to reach a plastic fork on the table behind you.

“Officer Chen, this is for you,” you say, passing her a box. “And this one is for Aaron, who-“

“I’m here. Don’t give it away,” Aaron says, seeming to appear out of nowhere to take the box of his favourite cake with a new cookie.

“Maybe I should get on your waiting list,” Angela muses as she finishes her slice of cake.

“You can jump the line,” you promise.

“What do I do to get Bradford’s taste testing position?” Nyla inquires. “Because if everything you make is a quarter as good as that Pumpkin Maple Biscotti cupcake was, I’ll do anything.”

“I think that privilege is limited to marriage,” you explain with a frown. “But next time I make an entire test batch, I’ll bring some by.”

Sergeant Grey stops behind the three silent women standing before you. They watch you, ignoring Tim as he enjoys his cake.

“So…” Angela begins before shaking her head.

“You bake for celebrities, and you’re married to Tim Bradford?” Lucy inquires.

“You turned down my proposals for him?” Aaron interjects, his brows furrowed together as he returns with a croissant sandwich (after his cake, you notice and make a mental note to tell his mom to watch his reaction).

“One, you proposed just because you like the way a caramel apple souffle tasted, and two, I was already married to Tim,” you reply. “Which seems to be very surprising for some reason.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I said I wanted to hire her for this?” Wade asks Tim.

Tim shrugs and says, “I didn’t think she’d work you in regardless. Kasey and I told her to charge double.”

“Hypothetically,” Nyla begins, “if I invite you over for dinner and ask for your help, would you cook like this?”

“She wouldn’t help,” Tim answers. You elbow him gently and say, “Of course. It’s the only way I can cook, I think. I prefer baking though.”

“I have so many questions,” Angela murmurs.

“Me too,” Lucy agrees. “Like where’s the farthest place someone has come from to eat at your bakery? Are you allowed to say names?”

“Most of the time I can, after they’ve left, of course. And I think Chris Hemsworth coming from Australia was the farthest.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know Tim was married,” Nyla points out.

“Yeah, yeah, you can ask questions later,” Tim interrupts.

“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly.

“You can ask, didn’t say I’d answer.”

Tim takes your hand and pulls you away from them, but you wave over your shoulder and thank them once more before you’re in the privacy of a hallway.

“I could fit Angela in,” you tell him.

“Don’t really care,” he admits – honest and blunt as ever – before he kisses you.

“You taste like cake,” you whisper as you pull back.

“What time will you be home tonight?”

“Probably before you. I’ve got an appointment at three and then I’m done. You?”

“Around six. I’ll bring dinner?”

“You’ve got a deal, Mr. Bradford.”

“And you want me to give Angela and Lucy your number,” he guesses, squeezing your waist playfully.

“Smart and handsome! Yes, please, oh and Nyla and Wade. I need to make sure his wife gets to come in, apparently she’s been trying.”

“Isn’t this Kasey’s job?”

“Kasey is mad that I didn’t tell her I was married, and you have to see them all the time. Be nice and help me out and I’ll bring more of the rum cake home.”

Tim kisses you once more before you leave the station to prepare for your next celebrity visit. His subsequent interrogation at the station makes him more eager to get home to you. When he finally walks in with your favourite takeout, welcomed by the smell of brown sugar and butter, Tim knows he’s home.

611 notes View Post

myfictionalbfs

6 months ago

Happy Scary Halloween

Requested Here!🎃👻

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!SWAT!fem!reader (w/ daughter from previous relationship)

Summary: Lucy asks you and your daughter to help prank your boyfriend Tim on Halloween, but he isn't the only one who gets scared.

Warnings: vague spoilers for Megan (2022), quotes from other horror movies, fluff!

Word Count: 1.9k+ words (I had fun with this one haha)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“Coming with?” your teammate asks. “We’re meeting at Fanny’s.”

“Not tonight,” you answer softly, looking down at your shoes.

“Mid-Wilshire will be there,” she adds, shaking her shoulders as she watches you.

Rubbing your neck to hide your reaction to the mere thought of Tim Bradford, you murmur, “I have to pick up my daughter.”

“Ugh, fine,” she concedes. “You get a pass this one time. But you can get a sitter – shoot, I’ll watch her next time if it gets you out for a few hours.”

“Thanks.”

You leave the locker room and walk through the station, unable to keep your mind from drifting to Tim and when you’ll get to see him next. You’ve been dating for a few months, and your daughter gets along with him well, but it’s been just the two of you for so long that you are unsure if you’re comfortable with taking the next step. Tim is quite possibly the love of your life, and you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, but your daughter comes first. I need to buy her a Halloween costume, you remember as you get in your car.

“What do you want to dress up as this year?” you ask your daughter, who rests against your shoulder as you watch an old Halloween movie.

She shrugs and moves closer, wrapping you in an awkward hug. “Any ideas?” she asks you. After speaking, she shakes her head and mumbles about the character on screen being dumb for going into a cemetery alone.

“Depends,” you answer. “Do you want to be cute, scary, something in between?”

“I dunno. Maybe we should ask Lucy for help.”

You nod and smile. “Probably.”

While you relax in the comfort of your home, watching the end of a movie with your daughter, Tim sits at a table in a diner surrounded by other police officers. The days leading up to Halloween are usually some of the worst days of the year for cops, rivaled only by Halloween itself and Spring Break. He’s tired and wants to see you, but his department put in a lot of work over the last few days, and Angela guilt-tripped asked him to come.

“Any big Halloween plans?” Lucy asks as she slides into the booth seat across from Tim.

Tim shakes his head and leans back in the seat.

“You’re going trick or treating aren’t you?” she guesses. “Getting soft now that you’re in love, huh?”

“Watch it, Chen.”

“What’s my honorary goddaughter dressing up as?” Angela inquires.

“Honorary goddaughter?” Tim repeats, raising his brows. “What?”

“Just tell me what she’s going to be, Timothy.”

“I don’t know, don’t think they’ve decided yet.”

“They? Oh my gosh, I love them so much,” Lucy gushes. “I wish my mom and I got along like they do.”

“What can you expect? They’re both shy,” Angela points out, “and they’ve had each other through everything.”

“You and Wesley giving out full-sized candy bars again?” Tim inquires, attempting to move the conversation away from you and your daughter.

“Of course,” she scoffs. “And we’ve got a bet going to see which costumes will be most popular this year. He’s thinking Spider-Man, I’m thinking Hermoine or Megan.”

“Megan?” Lucy repeats, his eyes widening in a way that Tim knows too well – she has an idea.

“Don’t start, Chen,” Tim sighs.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“C’mon, Lucy,” Angela beckons, “let’s go where we’re appreciated. There’s some firefighters from the 118 back there, maybe we can get you a date for the Halloween party.”

“As long as his costume isn’t a shirtless firefighter,” Lucy stipulates as she follows Angela. “Once was enough.”

Tim checks his phone, unsurprised to see you haven’t texted him. Yet, he smiles when he sees the picture of you and your daughter on his wallpaper. Maybe he is getting soft, but not for anyone except you.

Across the diner, Lucy drops her voice to communicate her idea to Angela, Nyla, Nolan, Grey, and Wesley. It will take some convincing, and a few minutes of practice, but it has the potential to be amazing. Most impressive, it might actually scare Tim Bradford.

“If I get punched, I’m blaming you,” you murmur to Lucy as you straighten your costume.

“If he punches you, Angela will punch him back,” she replies. “But I don’t think he’s going to go that far. I want him to run, not react.”

“We are talking about the same Tim Bradford, right?”

“He’s on his way,” Angela announces. She turns to your daughter and asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yep!” your daughter answers, smiling at you. “I’ve been practicing.”

“This is the best Halloween ever!” Lucy exclaims.

“I’m still saying it doesn’t work,” Wesley calls from down the hall, where he’s setting up a fog machine.

“Have a little faith, Wesley!” Angela replies. “He loves them, his guard won’t be as high.”

Your cheeks warm at her comment, and you walk to your daughter to fix her wig and dress instead of replying to Angela’s claim. Tim does love you, you know that, but it doesn’t make it easier to remain impassive or collected, for that matter, when someone else points it out.

“All these years of SWAT training to just prank him with a creepy doll movie,” you muse quietly.

“Hey, that’s a good point,” Nolan replies. “If he punches you, just use that training.”

You look over your shoulder to scowl at Nolan, but his eyes meet yours, and he smiles, so you turn away quickly. Tim will arrive any minute, so Lucy turns the lights off, starts the music she made for this prank, and everyone moves into place as the fog machine whirs.

The front door opens, and you inhale deeply but silently, just as before a raid. It clicks closed, and you count Tim’s steps before he flips the light switch. Nothing happens thanks to Nolan flipping the breakers, and Tim’s movements grow quieter but not impossible to track. In time with his soft breaths, you tap Lucy once… twice… and then lay your palm flat against her arm.

A spotlight in the corner of the hall comes on, dim and buzzing lowly, as it illuminates your daughter, dressed as Megan and standing with her head down. The replica katana Wesley brought glints on the table from your position but should be invisible to Tim. He moves into the hallway and narrows his eyes as your daughter looks up. The blue contacts Angela helped her put in seem to glow as she watches him.

Suddenly, the music changes and your daughter steps to the side, beginning the dance from the movie as she moves down the hallway and nears Tim. Pushing off of the wall, she spins and lifts the katana. With a deep breath, she does the measured lunge Nolan helped her learn and stabs the blade toward Tim. He jerks backward just as the light turns off. Your daughter giggles as she disappears into a dark bedroom.

Though he can’t see you, Tim is only feet from you as he turns in a slow circle in the dark. Lucy’s music fades before Megan says, “This is the part where you run.”

All the lights in the house come on as Nolan flips the breaker, and you wait behind Tim. When he turns again, he steps back quickly at the sight of you. Sitting in a chair and dressed as Annabelle, you let your head drop to your shoulder before Angela and Wesley throw several dolls out of the doorways in the hall, letting them land with clear thuds on the hallway floor.

Tim steps back, narrowly missing the table while he backpedals toward the door. You’re admittedly shocked at how well this is going, but you’re also beginning to feel a bit of remorse for pranking him like this.

“You need to learn some manners, Tim,” your daughter says, stepping back into view with the katana hanging from her hand.

Tim reaches for the doorknob, then stops. He watches her for several silent seconds, then says her name. With his complete focus on your daughter, you stand and place the life-sized Annabelle doll in your chair.

“That-“ Tim begins, leaning forward to place his hands on his thighs. “That was pretty good.”

“You were scared,” your daughter taunts, bouncing in place. “We did it!”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Wesley murmurs as he turns off the fog machine.

“Add that to your Tim Tests!” Lucy exclaims, emerging from the kitchen.

“I should’ve known you were involved.” Tim turns toward ‘Annabelle,’ and says, “Okay, you did it, you can get up now.”

The doll doesn’t move, and he looks at Lucy, who keeps her eyes on the white dress and shakes her head. Tim walks to the chair and lays his hand on Annabelle’s shoulder, causing her to tip onto the floor.

“Where’s Mom?” your daughter asks, looking between Angela and Lucy.

“She was Annabelle,” Lucy murmurs slowly. “I didn’t have a doll.”

“We didn’t either,” Angela adds. “She has to be around here somewhere.”

“Nolan, if this is-“

“It’s not me,” Nolan interrupts. “This wasn’t in the plan.”

“Tim,” your daughter calls, more of a squeak than anything, as she points to a trail of red droplets leading toward the side door.

Tim leads the way, followed closely by Angela, Lucy, and Nolan, while Wesley waits inside with your daughter. They exit the house and see bullet casings scattered across the small patio but no sign of anyone.

From your position on the roof, you can see their expressions, the worry and fear they’re attempting to mask – likely for your daughter’s sake.

“I see dead people,” the speaker you mounted below the patio covering whispers.

“Do you think she’s doing this?” Lucy whispers.

“I don’t know that she could,” Angela points out.

You smile beneath your mask, moving closer to the edge. Pressing a button on your phone, the speaker plays a dial tone before shifting to a quiet static sound.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” you ask from the roof.

Tim, Angela, Lucy, and Nolan turn quickly, and Nolan presses his hand over his heart as he sighs. You don’t know what you look like, perched precariously on the roofline in a Scream-face mask with a long black robe rippling in the breeze, but clearly, it worked to scare Tim even more.

You pull the mask off and smile. “So, did we scare him?”

“Him?!” Lucy repeats. “You scared us!”

Tim smiles suddenly, and your eyes drift to his chest.

“You scared your daughter, too,” he points out, clearly proud of himself.

“Did I?” you challenge softly.

Wesley and your daughter exit the house, and she smiles as she looks at Tim. He shakes his head and hugs her, then demands that she change or at least take out the contacts.

“Happy Halloween, Tim,” you call.

When they turn around to find you, your position on the roof is empty, not even a shadow of your robe is left as evidence you were ever there.

“Thanks,” you tell your SWAT teammates as you land on the ground in your front yard. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh, we got the good end of this deal,” your teammate says. “Bradford trying to get out of the house without any sudden movements was golden. And it’s all on video. Good luck dealing with him now.”

You sigh as they leave and return to the backyard, where Tim cups your face and demands eye contact. You squirm in his hold, and his smile widens.

“I’m getting you back next year,” he promises.

“Ooh, I’ll help!” your daughter agrees, moving to stand beside you both, her shoulder pressed to yours.

You, however, get caught in the idea that they both want to be here, beside you and with you, again next year. It’s a happy Halloween, indeed.

260 notes View Post

myfictionalbfs

1 month ago

The Rookie Prank War!

Tim Bradford x Rookie!reader [PLATONIC] — Ongoing series: Like Father, like Rookie.

A/N: Okay, so, I may have had a mini writer’s block—but! Hopefully this lengthy oneshot makes up for it. 😭

Summary: You start a (mostly) harmless prank war with one of the other rookies. Tim doesn’t care—until you drag him into it. Now he’s torn between helping you win and making sure you don’t get fired.

Pranks weren’t technically against department policy.. but that didn’t mean Tim Bradford approved of them.

Tim Bradford didn’t play games.

He didn’t do pranks. He didn’t do childish antics.

He especially didn’t do rookie nonsense.

For the first two weeks of your ongoing prank war with Aaron, Tim had stayed blissfully uninvolved. Sure, he rolled his eyes when he caught wind of your antics, and yeah, he warned you at least three times that you were playing a “dangerous game.”

But he had other things to worry about, like actual police work and making sure you didn’t get yourself killed.

So long as you weren’t embarrassing him, he didn’t care.

Yet here he was.

Stuck in the middle of a full-blown prank war between his own rookie and Aaron Thorsen.

And it was entirely your fault.

It all started when you strolled into roll call one morning looking suspiciously innocent.

Tim, unfortunately, knew you well enough by now to recognize that nothing good ever came from that expression.

He barely glanced up from his clipboard before sighing.

“Kid.”

You blinked at him, wide-eyed, the very picture of fake innocence. “Yes, sir?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

Across the room, Lucy snorted, barely looking up from her coffee. “Because you always do something.”

Before you could fire back, the doors burst open like a dramatic courtroom scene.

Aaron stormed in, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust from sheer rage. His usually pristine uniform was slightly disheveled, his patrol belt slightly askew, as if he had been fighting for his life.

He pointed an accusing finger at the room.

“Okay, which one of you messed with my shop?!”

You barely bit back a grin. “What happened, Thorsen?”

Aaron glared, breathing deeply like a man trying to suppress a violent outburst.

“…Every time I hit the brakes,” he gritted out, “my car starts blasting ‘Barbie Girl.’”

Silence.

For a full three seconds, the briefing room held its breath.

Then—

Chaos.

Angela doubled over, wheezing, gripping the table for support. Meanwhile, Nyla had to physically turn away to wipe the tears forming in her eyes.

Lucy? Clapped.

She actually clapped.

Tim sighed loudly, rubbing his temples like he was regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

Aaron threw his hands up. “Do you think this is funny?!”

Angela barely choked out, “I—I just—” She gasped for air between cackles. “It fits your whole vibe, man.”

“My vibe?!”

Nyla, still wiping away laughter tears, nodded seriously. “Yeah. Rich kid turned cop? Total Ken energy.”

Lucy lost it at that. “Oh my god, Thorsen’s a Ken!”

The laughter doubled.

Even Grey—Grey, the literal sergeant who had the patience of a saint (and zero tolerance for rookie nonsense), tilted his head like he was mildly impressed before exhaling sharply, looking away like he was suppressing a smirk.

Aaron, however, looked seconds away from committing a felony.

Tim, watching all of this unfold, finally turned to you, exasperated.

“You’re lucky Grey isn’t in the mood to suspend anyone today,” he muttered.

You beamed, utterly unbothered. “That means I win this round, right?”

Aaron’s glare deepened.

“Oh, you’re so going down.”

And just like that—

The war escalated.

Tim just sighed deeply, wondering what debt he had left to pay that had led to him being responsible for you.

By the next day, you knew you were in trouble.

Aaron had resources.

Specifically? Money.

Which meant he had somehow managed to hire a professional prankster to help him.

You came back from patrol to find everything in your locker had been individually gift-wrapped.

Every. Single. Item.

Socks? Wrapped. Notebooks? Wrapped. Your taser? Wrapped, complete with a bow.

The squad was losing their minds.

Tim, walking past, barely spared it a glance. “That’s what you get, kid.”

You turned to him, desperate, your hands clasped together as if you were praying for a miracle, “Sir, I need your help.” you whined.

Tim scoffed, turning on his heel to face you with a stern look, one that screamed ‘I don’t have time to play around.’ “Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You leaned in. “Come on. You hate losing.” You argued.

“I’m not in the game.”

You cheekily smirked as if you were in on a joke that he had no knowledge of, “Not yet.” You cooed with a knowing look.

Tim eyed you warily, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You just grinned, giving him a firm pat on the back, “You’re already on my team, sir.” You exclaimed, already daydreaming of all the possibilities of how this prank war was going to end.

Tim frowned. Hard. “Kid, no, I’m not—”

“You gave me a direct order to win.” You said, raising a brow.

Tim blinked, staring. “I did not—”

“Ohhh, but you did.” You tapped your chin, feigning deep thought. “Just this morning, you said—what was it? Oh! ‘Don’t let him get away with that, kid.’”

Tim groaned, already regretting every decision that led to him being stuck with you. “That wasn’t—”

“Sounds like encouragement to me,” Lucy cut in as she walked by, smirking.

Angela who’d been watching this whole ordeal unfold with arms crossed, grinned like this was the most entertaining shit she’s seen all day, “Oh yeah. That’s definitely involvement.”

Wesley, who wasn’t even part of the department but just happened to be visiting Angela, sipped his coffee and muttered, “That would hold up in court.” Adding his very valuable two cents in.

The whole squad was watching now, entertained as hell.

Nyla leaned back in her chair, nodding like she was considering the argument, “You do hate losing, Tim.” Gaining a nod of agreement from Nolan who’d just come back from returning war bags.

Tim turned to her. “Not the point.”

“Sounds exactly like the point,” Nyla countered.

Tim exhaled sharply, looking toward Grey who was strolling past like maybe—just maybe—he’d be saved.

Grey just raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to stop walking, or taking the risk of hearing things he didn’t wanna hear, “I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t make my life harder.” He casually said, already disappearing into his office.

Tim groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine.” He pointed directly at you. “But if I help you, it’s only to make sure you don’t get fired.”

You beamed. “That’s a win in my book.”

Tim muttered something under his breath—probably regrets and prayers—but you didn’t care.

Because Tim Bradford was now on your side.

And that meant?

Aaron didn’t stand a chance.

The next morning, Aaron strolled into the locker room, yawning as he reached for his locker.

He unlatched it—

And immediately stumbled back as a dozen overstuffed balloons burst out, each one exploding mid-air and showering him in a relentless, ungodly amount of glitter.

It got everywhere.

His uniform. His hair. His soul.

Aaron froze, hands outstretched in horror as the last bits of glitter floated gently onto his already-ruined uniform.

The room?

Absolutely lost it.

Angela gasped, eyes wide. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Nyla leaned against the lockers, impressed. “Okay, I gotta ask—how did you even set that up?”

You shrugged, innocence personified. “Trade secret.”

Lucy wiped away actual tears. “It’s so evil.”

Wesley, who somehow kept getting roped into this nonsense, just sipped his coffee and muttered, “That’s a felony in some states.”

Tim, standing beside you, pinched the bridge of his nose like a man deeply regretting his life choices.

“Don’t get cocky, kid,” he muttered.

Aaron, still frozen, wiped a slow, agonized hand down his glitter-covered sleeve.

Then, very carefully, very deliberately, he turned his deadliest glare on you.

“You,” he said, voice deadly calm, “are so. Dead.”

You?

You just smiled.

Because this?

This was only the beginning.

From that point on, it was war.

Aaron, never one to back down from a challenge, retaliated by slipping red food coloring into your hand sanitiser.

You stared at your hands in horror—bright pink, you raised your hands in the air like you’d been caught in a crime scene. “What the fuck?!”

Aaron, smug as ever, gave a short laugh. “I thought it would be a nice touch.”

Tim, ever the reluctant mentor, simply sighed deeply from his desk. “Here,” he muttered, tossing a pack of tactical gloves your way. “Wear these until it fades.”

You, still sulking about getting caught up in Aaron’s prank, slipped the gloves on. “You’re the best, sir.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples like he was at peak regret already. “I regret everything,” he mumbled, half to himself.

But you weren’t done yet. Oh no, this was only getting started.

The next move? You reprogrammed Aaron’s entire shop GPS to only speak in Tim’s voice.

You watched with barely-contained glee as Aaron got into his shop, fully unaware of what awaited him.

It didn’t take long for the magic to happen.

A few miles into his patrol, Aaron pressed the GPS button.

The voice crackled to life, Tim’s voice, smooth as ever.

“In 500 feet, make a U-turn, rookie. And try not to embarrass yourself.”

The entire squad, who had been waiting outside, erupted.

Angela gasped, barely holding her coffee. “Oh my god,” she half-laughed, half-choked on her drink.

Nyla actually slapped her knee. “You are a genius.”

Grey, who normally maintained a wall of composure, actually snickered and cleared his throat, turning to Tim. “You sure you didn’t record those lines yourself?”

Tim was staring at you, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and something that could’ve been admiration.

“Kid.”

You beamed, leaning against the counter casually. “Yes, sir?”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he gestured vaguely toward the car. “Where the hell did you get a recording of my voice?”

You just grinned and leaned back, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “That’s a trade secret too.”

Aaron, furious, slammed the car door, his face flushed red, glaring at you through the windows. But you didn’t even flinch.

Because you knew…

You’d won again.

By the end of the week, Aaron was running out of ideas.

But you?

You were winning.

Each day, you upped the ante, pushing the limits of what could be considered acceptable behavior in the workplace.

You’d switched his shop keys for ones that didn’t fit. You’d swapped out his patrol jacket for one covered in pink rhinestones. You’d even clipped a “kick me” sign to his back when he wasn’t looking.

Aaron’s frustration was at an all-time high, but you were still going strong.

Unfortunately, Tim?

He was growing more and more exasperated.

“If you get fired,” he muttered as you and Aaron stared each other down across the room, “I’m not writing your recommendation letter.”

You grinned, unphased. “I would never get fired, sir.”

Tim glared. “You put silly string in Aaron’s patrol air vents.”

You paused, looking innocently at him. “…Okay, fair, but—”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “I helped you. I am complicit.”

You grinned wider. “That means you’re an accessory.”

Tim groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I hate you.”

Angela, who had been watching this whole thing unfold with an amused smirk, chimed in. “No, you don’t.”

Tim turned to her, exasperated beyond belief. “They’re worse than Lucy.”

Lucy, who had been silently enjoying the drama from her corner, gasped in mock outrage. “Hey!”

Tim pointed directly at you, almost accusingly. “This is your fault. You encouraged them.”

Lucy just grinned that mischievous grin she always wore when chaos was afoot. “I am so proud.”

You raised an eyebrow. “See? Lucy gets it.”

Tim rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead as though he were moments away from walking out the door and never looking back.

“I really regret this,” Tim muttered under his breath.

But no one was listening—because you were too busy preparing your next move.

The prank war had reached its peak.

Aaron was tired. You were unstoppable.

But it wasn’t until Grey finally had enough that everything came to a grinding halt.

“If I see one more prank,” Grey called out from his office, voice like a thunderclap that cut through the chatter, “you’re all pulling double shifts.”

The squad froze.

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over everyone. No one dared to speak. You glanced at Aaron, who shot you a murderous look, but both of you knew—this was it.

The war was over.

You stood up, offering your hand to Aaron with all the grace of a seasoned negotiator.

“Truce?”

Aaron sighed, rubbing his temples as though trying to physically push the frustration out of his head. But then, after a beat, he reluctantly extended his hand.

“Truce.”

And just like that, the tension dissolved.

But not without Tim watching from the sidelines, his expression ageing five years in a matter of seconds. You could practically hear him thinking, What did I get myself into?

The squad, still thoroughly entertained by the spectacle of the entire week, immediately pulled out their phones and gathered together in front of Aaron’s locker, now completely covered in glitter, to take a group picture.

Angela, still laughing, wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “This is definitely going on the wall in the break room.”

Nyla, wiping tears from her eyes, nodded. “I’ll print out a copy, frame it, and put it next to Grey’s desk. For posterity.”

Grey, who had been leaning against the doorframe, gave a low grunt of disapproval but didn’t stop them. “You’re all ridiculous.”

But even he couldn’t help but smirk.

And Tim?

Tim stood a little farther away, arms crossed and looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was trying to hide the fact that, despite everything—the pranks, the chaos, the countless headaches—he was proud.

He refused to admit it, of course. Not in front of anyone.

But watching you outsmart Aaron every step of the way? Watching you win in ways he never thought possible?

Yeah.

He was definitely proud.

taglist: @its-ares @nevereclipse @chezze-its @mcckunty

187 notes View Post

myfictionalbfs

1 month ago

Hook, Line, and NOPE!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford gets hooked on loving you, but you play hard to get. After you finally admit that you feel the same, everybody says he's sleeping with the enemy.

Warnings: angst, arguments, emotional vulnerabity, fear of intimacy?, brief violence, fluff and comfort!

Word Count: 4.4k+ words

Song List: NOPE! by New Rules & Hooked by Why Don't We

For @newobessionweekly! Sorry it took me so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy it, I'm glad you're back, and I wish you the best in all of your endeavors!!

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Surely you can see how this entire project is ludicrous.”

You tap your eraser against your notebook, looking at the lawyers sitting across from you, representing the Los Angeles Police Department. The meeting was supposed to be held after a public forum. Because the court of public opinion is rarely on the department’s side, you were called into an impromptu – and early – one-on-one with the police commissioner’s legal representation.

“How is attempting to mitigate the impact on public citizens and the local economy ludicrous, Mr. Evers?” you inquire. “As someone who lives in Los Angeles, I consider this decision quite sensible. Avoiding more construction, road closures, and drawn-out costs that will ultimately impact businesses and taxpayers is hardly a laughable matter.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Wesley defends. “Do you make it a point to disagree with the LAPD whenever possible?”

You smile then, leaning forward over a printed report. “Not all of its officers,” you confide. “Now, if you have no reasonable objections to our proposal, I suggest we reconvene at the planned time to discuss this in light of public opinion, rather than my apparently overly convoluted view.”

“You are not making friends in the department,” he says as he closes his leather-bound legal pad and stands. “There will come a time when you need their support.”

“And there will come a time when they’ll see that I am in fact on their side. Thank you for your time.”

As soon as the door closes behind Wesley Evers and the rest of the commissioner’s hand-picked team, you slouch in your chair and sigh.

“He’s going to tell his girlfriend everything you said,” the paralegal taking notes beside you murmurs.

“Well, as the heads of my fan club, I’d expect no less,” you reply lightly. “Thanks for your help preparing for this.”

“Any time. Sorry the LAPD doesn’t like you.”

“I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to do my job and do it well. Speaking of which, I’ve got a lunch meeting.”

“With whom?”

You tap your fingers to your lips like you’re keeping a secret. If you’re making enemies with local law enforcement, the least you can do is devote some of your free time to making it better.

“You look beautiful,” your lunch date says as he pulls your chair out for you.

You roll your eyes but feel your cheeks heat at his flattery. The man sitting across from you is undoubtedly on your string, and you pull it, even if you know this relationship will never be anything more than it is now. He says nice things to you, and sometimes, when you’re home alone after a long week of being told all of the reasons people don’t like you, it’s nice to think that he might like you – though, if he does, it’s different.

“Are you going to tell me why you wanted to meet today or should I guess?” he asks, sitting across from you.

“Well, you’ve never been one to give up before,” you muse.

“You had a meeting with Wesley.”

“I did.”

“How’d that go?”

“Imagine sitting at a table with twelve former arrests that hate you – some of them just on principle,” you begin. “But you have to be civil because it’s a work thing. That’s about how it went.”

“Well, you did slash the law enforcement budget.”

“Not by myself. And it wasn’t my first recommendation, but it’s what we had to do to ensure everything was able to get done for the year. I understand that I seem like the bad guy here. I’m on their side- your side, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

He hums, then reminds you, “We don’t all hate you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the exception.”

“Does that mean you’ve reconsidered my offer?”

You glance at him over the top of your menu. “I thought you were still mad about the flowers.”

“I got you flowers, you left them outside, they died. Flowers die, I got over it.”

“I just don’t get it,” you admit, setting the menu aside.

“I can explain it again. Unless you’re stalling, like I think you are.”

“You’re brave enough to chase what you want: promotions, people, possessions. I’m not.”

“Is that why you keep stopping this before we even start?” he challenges. “Why we’ll talk for hours one day, and the next you’re a ghost? Why you invite me over just to not be home?”

You raise your hand, silently begging him to stop. When he explains your actions this way, they sound much crueler than your intentions. Being surrounded by hostility at work has led you to build tall, nearly impenetrable walls around yourself. Sitting across from the one man you can see yourself having a future with threatens those walls. He’s been chipping away at them for months, finding the weak spots and being patient with you each time you suddenly pull back when you notice he’s gotten too close.

“I just…”

“You change your mind,” he finishes for you. “You change it like the clothes you’re in, but… I’m not giving up.”

You chew the inside of your lower lip as someone passes by your table. “Why?” you ask softly.

“Because I’ve got a suspicion that you feel it too. I know what you’re doing.”

Nodding, you remind him, “It’s not just me I’m protecting.”

At the end of your lunch, you walk back onto the streets of LA and wait awkwardly on the sidewalk.

“Think about it,” he encourages.

“I will.”

“Oh, one more thing.”

“Bye, Officer Bradford,” you say, turning to walk away from him.

“Hello!” Tim calls after you, trying to get your attention again.

“See you later!”

Four Months Later

“… T, U, V,” Lucy continues. She stops and shifts in the seat to ask, “Are you lying?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Tim replies.

“There is no way your girlfriend’s name starts with X, Y, or Z. Is there?”

“Can we go back to when my personal life was off limits?”

“No. Now, tell me what your girlfriend’s name is.”

“Never said I had one.”

Lucy groans. She’s seen all the evidence that Tim has someone special in his life. He hasn’t eased up on the Tim tests or given her a break from his usual grumpy demeanor, but the little things are evident because she knows where to look.

“Bradford, Chen,” Wade radios. “Divert to the station. I’m putting you on detail at the rally this afternoon.”

“Copy that,” Tim replies.

“Is rally detail boring?” Lucy inquires.

“Depends on what exactly your post is,” Tim answers honestly. “Being a rookie, probably. It’s crowd babysitting more than anything.”

“Fantastic,” she deadpans.

“I’m about to cash in my pension,” Angela complains.

“Tell me about it,” Bishop agrees. “Does the mayor’s office care that crimes are still happening outside of his bubble?”

“He’s laughing at us. Making us guard his precious little troublemaker because he knows we don’t like her.”

“Why is that?” Nolan asks.

“She doesn’t like to help cops,” Jackson answers. “Will fund just about anything else, then gives us the leftovers. When it comes to budgeting and resources, we’re her last thought after her last thought.”

“So, she treats police needs like an afterthought?” Lucy clarifies. “And everyone on the force has a problem with her for that?”

“Not everyone,” Tim answers. “Form your own opinion, boot, don’t just listen to the jaded and the one repeating his father’s complaints.”

“It’s my opinion, too,” Jackson interjects.

“Wait,” Angela says, turning toward Tim. “Don’t tell me you buy into her I’m doing what I can, and I don’t like it either spiel.”

“I’m just saying that we have no way in knowing that she isn’t doing all she can. The police budget wasn’t good before she got the job, either. Useless to blame one person for the government’s fallacies.”

“What?” Bishop asks.

“You like her!” Angela accuses.

“Oh my gosh,” Lucy mumbles, her eyes widening. “It’s her isn’t it?!”

“She’s who?” Bishop demands.

“Focus on your assignment,” Tim barks.

“No,” Angela says. “Tim, do not tell me you have feelings for this girl.”

“And what if I did?” Tim challenges.

“Then I’d tell you it would never work.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Tim, I’m serious, don’t let this girl pull you in somehow. She’s the enemy.”

“The enemy? Lopez, she’s doing her job. People don’t like us for the same reason, does that make us the enemy?”

“That’s not what-“

“What about Evers? He the enemy?”

“Okay,” Bishop interrupts. “You’re getting defensive, stand down.”

Tim rolls his eyes and leads Lucy toward the stage. Angela and Bishop watch him go, convinced there is more to Tim’s response than simply respecting that you’re doing your job and not singling them out.

“We need to talk,” Bishop says, waiting outside the locker room.

“I don’t need an intervention,” Tim deadpans.

“But you need to hear this,” Angela replies. “We don’t like her. 90% of cops minimum don’t like the mayor’s golden girl.”

“Well, I’m in the percentage that doesn’t need your help.”

“Tim, she is younger than you, she works day in and day out to make our jobs harder. You are incredibly different people.”

“And you need to bring this back into the proper perspective,” Bishop adds. “Reality is, Bradford, that even if you do like this girl in a purely professional sense, she will betray that somehow.”

Tim clenches his jaw. “Reality is, Talia, that my life is absolutely none of your concern.”

“Not what you said last time you needed a favor.”

“The low blows make you feel better? Remind you that your family-“

“Stop,” Angela demands, stepping between Tim and Talia. “This isn’t about that. Tim, we’re just saying not to start something with this girl because it won’t end well.”

“I haven’t started anything,” Tim replies. “But if I wanted to, if I wanted to see where it would go, I would.”

Angela watches him, ignorant of their rookies listening in on the conversation.

“You did start something, didn’t you?” Nolan asks from around the corner.

“What do you want the hear?” Tim snaps, looking between the veteran and rookie officers surrounding him.

“The truth!” Lucy answers.

“Fine! Yes, I am dating her. It took me months to get her to the point where she wasn’t scared to let me in, and I’m not walking away from it – or her – because you all have chips on your shoulders.”

Angela shakes her head as she says, “You’re sleeping with the enemy here, Tim.”

“Yeah, because she has such a bad reputation. All of you, back off.”

“Or what?” Bishop challenges.

“You don’t want to fight me on this,” Tim explains lowly. “Now move.”

Bishop tilts her head to the side, then steps back. Tim exits the station with his shoulders drawn back and his hands curled into fists. You may be public enemy number one as far as officers from Mid-Wilshire are concerned, but that won’t change anything for Tim. To Tim, you’re the sweetest temptation, and the one he wouldn’t walk away from, even if he wasn’t completely and utterly hooked on you.

“Your girlfriend’s on TV,” Angela grumbles a few days after their unpropitious meeting.

Tim glances up at the television screen. You’re standing beside the mayor and the budgeting committee. Last week, the city planner's office introduced a petition to build a new and improved police facility near the station Tim is now standing in. It would provide room for additional personnel, new state-of-the-art security, and a training course specifically for tactical responses, including riot control and high-risk breaches.

As the mayor speaks and officers from across the city watch, Tim keeps his eyes on you. You look good in the dark blue blazer he helped you pick. Though he knows you’ll probably deliver a speech that will intensify the feelings of disdain local law enforcement holds for you, Tim has wildly differing thoughts about you.

“After many discussions with the board beside me and the experts in my own office,” the mayor says, “we have decided to delay the planning and construction of the new police station indefinitely.”

A collective groan of disappointment fills the bullpen around Tim. The mayor continues speaking, but Tim can’t hear him over the chatter echoing in the crowded room.

“What does this mean for us?” Lucy asks beside him.

“Nothing,” he answers.

“Just that we’ll still be stretched too thin and underprepared for tactical emergencies,” Jackson adds, his voice laced with loathing.

“Which is no different than now,” Tim reiterates. “Metro has operated with the current standard operating procedures for several years and it works. We have new shift rotations every other week. The brass will work around this, just like they always do.”

“They shouldn’t have to.”

“Tell Tim’s girlfriend that,” Angela interrupts.

Tim looks back to the screen, unsurprised to see that you’re now at the microphone, smiling even as you prepare to deliver the displeasing details of the proposal refusal.

“Good afternoon,” you greet. “On behalf of the mayor’s office, I would first like to thank the employees who worked on this project proposal and the officers who will someday benefit from it.”

“She’s so full of it,” someone yells as others boo.

“This is really who you want to be with?” Angela challenges Tim.

“You should try listening sometime, Lopez. It can be enlightening,” Tim replies. “Let’s go, boot. We’ve actually got work to do.”

“It is a question of money, yes,” you continue as Tim leaves. “But there is also a concern of bias and competency in planning and construction because of current contracts. Of course, the mayor agrees that the facility is needed, and he’s not denying that it will be provided to the LAPD, he has simply determined – with his advisors – that now is not the proper time to begin the undertaking of such a project.”

“There’s still time to dump her before this starts,” Bishop whispers.

“And there’s still a chance for you to remember who you’re talking to,” Tim replies.

“She’s going to get crucified,” Angela says. “You really want to be the officer she drags down with her?”

Tim shakes his head just before the door opens. You follow the mayor inside and sit at one of two tables on the stage. They’re arranged in a wide V-shape, with six chairs and six microphones at each. The rest of the room is filled with police and press, all heavily vetted and here for a specific reason. After the press conference yesterday, the law enforcement community voiced a public outcry, which led the police commissioner and numerous reporters to call for a town hall meeting with an audience of people who will be directly affected by the decision. And those who will paint you in the worst light possible to inform the public of the decision.

The first speaker in the line, an officer Tim recognizes but doesn’t know, directly addresses you. Tim notices your shoulders straighten as you nod.

“You’re the one that cut the police budget. Now that we’re down one more asset and assist, how does it feel to have less protection at your fingertips as a city employee?” he asks.

Several officers cheer, but Tim crosses his arms across his chest and rolls his eyes. He and Lucy arrived early and are seated in the front row. You lock eyes with Tim briefly before you answer.

“As I explained yesterday, the budget does play a role in the city’s delay of building this facility,” you explain. “But there are other concerns.”

“Like what?” the officer asks.

“The city of Los Angeles is currently under contracts with specific architects and engineers. These craftsmen are undoubtedly talented, yet there have been questions of their focus and dedication in their trades.”

“Speak English!” someone yells.

You smile at that and continue, “The engineers we would have to hire to build something of this size are solely interested in the paycheck they would receive. The mayor is unwilling to compromise the integrity of the building, so he decided to wait. If we move forward now, the final result would not be the better building and better system you need.”

“And you know what we need,” a reporter jeers.

“More space and additional resources, amongst many other things. I’m not arguing that you have clear needs, I am simply stating that this isn’t the way to do it. Not if you want it done rightly.”

You watch the officer turn away from the mic stand. He slows by the second row of chairs, and your brows pinch as you watch him.

“How did you determine there’s bias?”

Tim turns when the question is asked, shaking his head when he sees Bishop standing at the microphone. She glares at you, but one of the mayor’s corporate lawyers leans forward to answer the question. As he discusses the audit his team completed, you look past Tim. He meets your eyes and lifts his hands from his lap in question.

Without responding to Tim, you turn and speak to a member of the mayor’s security detail. The man nods, looks past Tim, then steps behind the stage before disappearing from Tim’s view.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the mayor interrupts. “Today’s meeting is to discuss the postponement of this project. There is no room for blaming members of this committee or seeking answers to personal questions. Next speaker, please.”

Bishop rolls her eyes as she passes Tim, and he silently hopes that this doesn’t make you pull away from him again. If Tim is sleeping with the enemy, he won’t let the people on his side push you away, even if it means going against everything he’s supposed to believe in. You’ve got a habit of saying nope just because you are more comfortable hiding your feelings and saving yourself from being vulnerable with the wrong person. Tim knows he is the man you can be yourself with. Maybe the only one.

“That has no bearing on the need for more space,” you say, drawing Tim’s attention again. “Simply put, you’re getting the new station when it is fiscally and morally wise. And not a moment before, regardless of how much you need it, or think you need it.”

The crowd roars, booing and voicing baseless insults against you. You stand and walk off the stage while the mediator attempts to regain control of the room. There will be another meeting at the end of the week, and Tim wonders how many of these officers will be in attendance and how many will still be angry.

It’s Friday afternoon when a similar group convenes in the mayor’s office. There’s less press, and many of the officers in the room are high-ranking. Grey brought Tim, Angela, Bishop, and their rookies, stating that the rookies need exposure to the politics of policing and that the TOs are among his best officers. You smile at Tim when he enters but look away when you see the officers with him. Sergeant Grey has never been anything but civil with you, yet the complaints of his officers may have swayed him.

“Excuse me,” you whisper to a security guard behind you. “Is the man in the blue jacket an officer?”

He glances over the table and shrugs, then says, “Everyone was screened coming in, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” you reply, nodding as you face the crowd.

As the conversation – a polite term for the personal attacks and invasive questions – begins, you remain quiet. You look forward, unresponsive to the different officers raising concerns or voicing their opinions.

“Finally found her off switch, I see,” Bishop murmurs.

“She’s much more tolerable this way,” Jackson agrees.

“I don’t think she’s even listening,” Nolan points out.

“Neither are you,” Tim replies gruffly.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, distracted by your rigid posture and silence. Something is wrong. Whether someone in your office told you to stand down or you’re troubled by another instance, you’re not acting like yourself, and Tim hates it.

“Good afternoon,” a man says into the microphone.

Tim glances at him, wonders why he’s not in uniform, and then refocuses on you.

“The architect and engineer contracts are time-based, correct?” he inquires.

“Yes, sir,” the mayor replies.

“Then what makes you think the next crew to sign a two-year contract won’t have the same bias? The same obsession with being paid quickly rather than doing good work?”

“It’s not so much the contract as the ethics of the companies themselves. We’ve already begun the search for new firms and have found promising and talented teams we’re eager to begin working with.”

The man nods and returns to the back corner of the room, standing away from the rest of the crowd. After excusing yourself softly, you walk to the back of the room, heading toward the door. You’re on the same side of the room as Tim, but he can’t see you behind him.

While you approach the man in blue, he walks along the wall, nearing the front row. He’s getting too close to the mayor and too close to Tim, you think. You slow when he stops.

“Is your office prepared to provide additional resources to the stations in need while we wait for this building development to begin, Mr. Mayor?” Sergeant Grey asks.

The officers applaud his question, sharing their support of the idea. You don’t listen for the mayor’s reply as the man slips his hand beneath the back of his jacket and wraps his fingers around something.

“Quiet, please,” the mayor calls. “Thank you. And that’s an excellent question.”

“Officer Bradford,” the man says.

As Tim begins to turn, the man pulls his arm forward, and you don’t hesitate to surge forward. You tackle him to the floor, knocking his gun out of his hand and toward the stage. Officer Chen stands first, rushing to your side as she takes your position and handcuffs the armed man. The mayor is escorted off the stage by security, and you’re distantly aware of cameras flashing.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, pulling you up to stand as his eyes search your face.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Are you?”

Tim shakes his head, and you smile.

“I don’t even care if you’re gonna be the death of me,” Tim murmurs.

He leans toward you, holding your face between his hands, and kisses your forehead. You’re both ignorant of the people watching you until Lucy shoves the man against the wall, and someone clears their throat.

“I, uh,” Angela begins. “I think we owe you an apology.”

“Me or her?” Tim asks, squaring his shoulders as he steps to your side.

“Both.”

“She’s the one for you,” Bishop realizes aloud. “I couldn’t see that past my own feelings.”

“I’m sorry about the decision,” you offer. “I fought for you, but I couldn’t make it work.”

“Didn’t fight very hard then,” Jackson grumbles.

“Watch it, boot,” Tim warns.

“No, it’s okay,” you interject. “I could have done more; I won’t deny that. But I’m confident that the plans we’re working on now will be far better than what you could have gotten had I succeeded this time.”

“What do you see in Tim?” Lucy asks as two other officers escort the apprehended gunman out of the room.

You look at Tim, and your smile grows when you answer, “Someone who saw me, and didn’t give up when I thought I wasn’t worthy of being seen or loved.”

“Do you want me to call a paramedic or anything?” Nolan inquires.

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “Not every day the desk jockey gets to save her cop boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Angela begins, “what was that about, Timothy?”

Tim shrugs, bumping his arm against yours.

“I’m pretty sure that was Garrison Peters,” you say. “He works for one of the firms whose contract is about to expire and won’t see the station payday.”

“Which he’s mad about,” Bishop agrees. “But why Tim?”

“You said Garrison Peters?” Tim repeats. “Relation to Andrea?”

“Married, I think,” you answer.

“I arrested her for a RICO warrant. Lawyer argued she was obsessed with money and the jury indicted.”

“Hence why we didn’t want to use their firm!” you exclaim. “They’re corrupt!”

The five officers around you have different reactions to that revelation. Lucy says, “Oh,” and then grimaces. Angela and Bishop press their lips together and nod slowly. Jackson purses his lips but still looks like he’d rather hear it from someone who isn’t you. And Nolan mumbles something about contractors that you can’t decipher.

“Sorry,” Angela says first.

“I am too,” Bishop adds.

“Me, three,” Lucy offers.

“Sorry, and sorry again on behalf of… everybody,” Nolan says.

Jackson doesn’t apologize, but you smile at him regardless. “Thank you,” you reply.

“Thank you,” Tim whispers.

You rub his shoulder kindly before you drop your hand.

“I was supposed to have dinner with the mayor, but he’ll probably be in lockdown, if you’d like to join me,” you suggest.

“Absolutely not,” Tim interrupts. “You can all go home and plan better apologies. We’re going to dinner.”

“Tim,” Bishop says before he can leave. “You’re really good together.”

“I know.”

Tim leads you out of the room and interlaces his fingers with yours as he leads you to your office. He suggests a few restaurants worthy of his savior, but you don’t reply. In the privacy of your office, you sit against the corner of your desk and beckon him closer. You spread your hands over his chest when his legs hit your knees.

“That was terrifying,” you admit.

Tim sobers, lifting his hands to run his fingers along your forearms. “I’m sorry. I know that what you did was for me, but it was risky and reckless... I’m sorry it scared you.”

“What I did didn’t scare me. The idea of losing you did.”

Nodding, Tim drops his chin toward his chest and looks at you. “You saved my life. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“You saved mine first,” you whisper. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“What can I say? I’m hooked,” Tim replies, smiling brightly.

You scrunch your nose at his response, then murmur, “Nope.”

He scoffs, preparing to remind you that you’re together and you can’t push him away that easily. Before he can, you grip his shirt and pull him toward you, kissing him without a single thing between you. Tim Bradford is on your string, but you’re done pulling it because you’re hooked, too.

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