Whatever Happens (Tim Bradford X F!Wife!Reader)

Once in a Lifetime

The Rookie x SWAT documentary-style (reader insert) crossover

Summary: Mid-Wilshire opens a case that requires seven police departments, numerous SWAT teams, and an unusual witness. As the public watches a documentary all about the case and the people involved, they see more than crime.

Warnings: narration is in italics, injuries and blood, character death, discussion of child abuse, depiction of cults/brainwashing, fake tweets, I probably went overboard, fluff and comfort at the end I promise

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: This idea struck me last night and I had to do something with it. I hope someone enjoys it, but I'm never using a tweet generator again because it took an embarrassing amount of time.🤍

What if a once-in-a-lifetime moment depended on a single decision, rather than a plethora of them?

“I didn’t call the police because it’s none of my business. I’ve seen how she treats her kids, why would I interject my family into that when I don’t have to?”

What if the one moment that could change everything was slipping away before you arrived?

“I’ve got a pulse! As soon as we’re code 4, I need an R/A standing by!”

What if the world stopped for your once in a lifetime?

“The 405 has been shut down between Signal Hill and Alameda Street. This sudden, unexplained closure, in conjunction with the heavy law enforcement presence throughout Los Angeles, has citizens alert and concerned.”

What if the only person who can save you is the result of dozens of perfectly aligned once-in-a-lifetime moments?

“7-Lincoln-100, I’ve located another-“

This is Once in a Lifetime.

Sergeant Tim Bradford, Officers Chen, Nolan, Juarez, and Smitty enter different areas of the Mid-Wilshire police station. Detective Lopez and her husband, attorney Wesley Evers, take a seat in their home, while Detective Nyla Harper and Sergeant Wade Grey sit at their respective desks. Each officer has been interviewed for a documentary before, but the mood is distinctly somber as compared to the other episodes.

“Hi, I’m Alex, host of ‘It’s All Bloody (and) True,’” the man behind the camera introduces. “Today’s episode is about the case involving eight different police departments, four specialized units, a major highway closure, and - correct me if I’m wrong - a series of once-in-a-lifetime decisions and opportunities that seem mathematically impossible.”

“Mathematically impossible?” Wesley repeats. “Try completely impossible. On paper, there is no way this case should have lined up the way it did.”

“Not to say it was easy,” Angela adds. “I’ve been on the job for a long time, and this was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“As the veteran officer on this case,” Wade continues from his office, “I agree with Detective Lopez. Everything g about this was unprecedented.”

“I’d like to start with day one of the investigation,” Alex requests. “Take us through the first moment, the call, and how this came into your station and became your duty.”

Lucy answers, “911 dispatchers received a call from a distressed man claiming that his neighbor had gone missing.”

“A call that raised concern for more reasons than his distress, correct?”

“Yes,” Sergeant Bradford says. “The caller mentioned the name of his neighbor’s employer.”

ACTUAL TRANSCRIPT OF 911 CALL: CALLER She- she went to work like she always does, but this was days ago. It would’ve been… Monday, no Tuesday because my wife was making donuts for her board meeting. Eileen called her in at some crazy time. DISPATCH You said Eileen? Is that your neighbor’s boss? CALLER Yes, yes. Eileen Indigo, I believe. She’s made her do crazy things before, but she needs the job, you know? I’m just really scared because she’s never done anything like this before and Eileen has some serious issues. DISPATCH Officers have been alerted and will be performing a welfare check, sir.

“You responded to the welfare check?” Alex inquires.

“We did,” John Nolan replies. “There was no answer at the door, so we surveyed what we could see and there was no sign of anyone inside, of forced entry, or any foul play.”

“Without that, there’s no probable cause for us to enter,” his rookie, Celina, adds. “Although there was a feeling of urgency surrounding her residence.”

“Is that- is that something you look for as police?”

“Of course not,” Tim snaps. “But we’re human, we have emotions. We notice things about how people and places feel.”

“Unfortunately, Officer Juarez’s empathy and intuition wasn’t enough for us to move forward,” Lucy continues. “And without any sign that something nefarious had happened, all we could do was post a missing person’s report.”

“But the case stood out?” Alex guesses.

“Right,” Tim agrees. “Because of Eileen Indigo.”

PREVIOUS INTERVIEW FOOTAGE: “Ms. Indigo,” Detective Harper greets. “We have a few questions about your relationship with Devon Taylor.” “There isn’t one,” the young woman replies, picking at her shirt rather than looking at the cop across from her. “He left six months ago. During our kids’ birthday party, can you believe that?” “Ma’am, we located Mr. Taylor. He’s deceased, and his body was dumped in a viaduct.” The woman sits back in the chair, straightens her shirt, and asks, “Did he have cash on him? I gave him $50 for a new flat iron before he ran out.”

“So, why did the mention of her name spark interest?" Alex asks. "Taylor’s case had been closed, his best friend - who turns out to be Ms. Indigo’s, uh…”

“Sidepiece?” Angela suggests.

“Mister?” Wesley adds. “There’s not a direct mirror of ‘mistress,’ is there?”

“Yeah, the friend got jealous that Indigo hadn't left her husband and offed him. What made us remember Indigo was the complete lack of care,” Grey explains.

“That and the concerns about her treatment of their children,” Nyla comments.

“Surely if she was mistreating her children, it would have been uncovered during the duration of your investigation?” Alex hypothesizes.

“Not our investigation.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Right, there were eight police stations involved in this case,” Alex remembers.

“There are only 21 stations in Los Angeles, for reference,” Wesley says. “Seven of the stations working this case were in LA. So, one-third of the officers were directly tied to this case in some capacity.”

“And the introduction of Eileen Indigo introduced this collaboration?”

“Not exactly,” Tim begins. “When we began looking into Indigo, it was only in regards to how she was treating our missing person. And, as we began looking into that, we discovered past complaints and CPS reports of her children being mistreated.”

“And?”

“CPS found nothing,” Nolan replies.

“Their investigations - plural - all determined that the children were in good health, being cared for, and not in any immediate danger,” Celina states.

“So, you went back to square one,” Alex says, flipping a page of his notes.

“Not at all,” Wade interrupts. “We were still trying to piece together the caller’s claim that Indigo mistreated her kids and her employees when we received a call from another station.”

“And he dropped a bombshell,” Nyla deadpans.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Would you mind introducing yourself?” Alex asks.

“Sure. I’m Commander Robert Hicks, LAPD SWAT,” the man seated in a different station greets.

“Upon learning that Mid-Wilshire was looking into Eileen Indigo, you called their watch commander. Why?”

“After the initial report of child abuse, my 20-David SWAT team was dispatched to Indigo’s residence. Responding officers reported that she had barricaded herself and her children inside. My people got there, got in, and found that Indigo and her children were asleep, completely safe and unharmed.”

“And that didn’t bring more questions?”

“Of course it did,” Hicks argues. “There’s just procedure to follow, and even though my team wanted to get to the bottom of what happened and find out more about Indigo, we can’t just dive into people’s background because we feel like it.”

“When you called Grey, were you planning to offer your team to be on standby?”

“No, and I didn’t right away.”

“When was it decided that SWAT would be beneficial to working the case?”

“After the next call,” overlapping voices reply.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE - Roll Call Room: “This is Sergeant Harrelson, Sergeant Kay, Officer Luca, Officer Tan, and Officer Street,” Wade introduces. “They will be on standby during the visit to Ms. Indigo’s home. If a warrant is issued, they will serve it.” “We have experience with Indigo and have been on the home before, so we’re happy to offer any assistance we can,” Harrelson adds. “What if she lets us search the house and we don’t find anything?” Officer Juarez asks. “It’s a missing persons’ report, there’s not much we can do,” Nolan answers. “One thing at a time,” Wade reminds them.

“Not only did you secure a warrant because of a subsequent complaint, but you felt it necessary to bring in five additional departments from different stations,” Alex muses. “What did you find that led you to take such extreme measures?”

“Let’s just say, I drew up the affidavit, and while you’re only required to provide the judge with probable cause to believe evidence is present in the location being searched, my document was nearly 50 pages in length,” Wesley shares.

“And the judge only read the first page,” Angela adds.

Nyla then says, “The judge signed not only the warrant for her office but gave us a warrant for every piece of real estate she had under her name. We found five additional residences and several acres of land outside of Palm Springs.”

“Making Palm Springs PD the third station to join what was turning into a hunt for the missing woman,” Lucy connects. “It was also at this point that Sergeant Grey knew we needed to serve all six warrants simultaneously, so we needed more hands.”

“In addition to recruiting Metro, patrol, and SWAT officers from our sister stations,” Wade adds, “we also put out a nationwide BOLO. It was Thursday afternoon at this point, so we were two days past when the 911 caller had last seen his neighbor alive.”

“With a plan to raid Indigo’s office and homes at the same time, you went out in teams,” Alex says. “But most people who’ve had A&E any time after 2004 know that the first 48 hours of missing persons investigations are vital, and after that, the chances of finding them alive go down.”

The camera shows Nyla, usually the effortlessly funny detective, sigh deeply before she says, “That’s what made the next part so hard.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

Alex finds a paper with names on it, then says, “This is the team that raided Eileen Indigo’s office in California Heights. Going around the table quickly, we have Commander Bob Hicks, 20-David SWAT members Sergeants Harrelson and Kay, Officers Luca, Tan, and Street, as well as Detective Harper, and Officer Chen. Additionally, Metro Sergeant Tim Bradford.”

“And I was the one who chose to close the 405,” Wade offers.

“As someone who worked for LBPD, I continue to support that decision,” Street says. “The office building - which was a converted house - backed up to Orange Avenue, which crosses the 405 and has its own on-ramp. Had she been able to get on there and disappear into car-pocalypse, we’d be telling a different story right now.”

“That was surprisingly logical,” Harrelson - who invited everyone to call him Hondo before the cameras started rolling - muses.

“So, the 405 is closed for a good reason, but why leave the public hanging?” Alex wonders.

“To protect ourselves and others,” Lucy says. “If she knew we were coming, who’s to know what she might have done.”

“She would’ve run,” Tim adds from his commander’s office. “Or, worse, she would have harmed the people close to her to throw us off her scent.”

“You said ‘the people closest to her.’ Raiding Indigo’s office made this case about more than a missing woman,” Alex editorializes.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE - Eileen Indigo's Office Building: “LAPD,” Hondo calls quietly as a woman sitting at the front desk raises her hands in shock. “Get down on the ground. How many people are inside?” “Just Ms. Indigo, her assistants, and the trigon team,” she whispers.

PREVIOUS 911 CALL: CALLER I don’t know what exactly she’s doing! Her children are outside in the cold reciting something about tricycles, maybe? She has a paper in her hand and when they say the wrong word, she threatens them! DISPATCH Officers and EMS are en route.

“Tell me more about Trigon,” Alex requests.

“I wish we could,” Angela replies.

“Indigo’s trigon team continues to be a mystery,” Wesley explains further. “There’s real estate holdings with each team member listed as a beneficiary, they’ve got a joint bank account, but we can’t find any real evidence of them actually doing anything together.”

“As far as we could tell,” Tim begins, looking away from the camera quickly, “the so-called trigon team was some sort of attempt at starting a cult. The uh, ‘members’ were evaluated by a psychiatrist, who believed there had been a degree of brainwashing involved.”

“When we connected the 911 call about her – how do I put this? – initiation of her children, we knew there was more to Indigo’s business than we anticipated,” Lucy says. “But, at the moment during the raid, we were in no way interested in getting these answers, just finding the missing woman and getting cuffs on Eileen.”

“Without an arrest warrant,” Wade reminds Alex and his viewers. “We had to find probable cause to legally arrest her, and though the judge understood our evidentiary concerns and issued the search warrants, he didn’t have enough to give us an arrest warrant.”

“So, you went in looking for something you could arrest her for?” Alex asks, suddenly sounding accusatory.

“No,” Tim snaps. “We went in looking for a missing person because there was more than enough evidence that Indigo had engaged in threats of violence in and out of the workplace.”

“But isn’t workplace mistreatment a civil matter?”

“Most cases are,” Wesley agrees. “But when it grows more severe; when threats progress to actual physical assault, it becomes a criminal offense under California law.”

“There was no evidence of that included in the affidavit.”

“That’s because Palm Springs PD hadn’t found her trophies,” Nyla responds.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Palm Springs Property: “Clear!” an officer calls. “We’re code 4.” “I got something!” another voice alerts. A sergeant passes through the barricade and kneels by the recently disturbed dirt. A large metal box protrudes from the shallow hole, and he radios for a forensics team. When they arrive, the box is photographed before it is removed and opened. Inside, there are dozens of disturbing photographs (which have been blurred for viewers of the documentary). “Get Sergeant Grey on the phone!” someone yells.

“When I received the call, the teams serving warrants on her LA properties had already left the station,” Wade explains. “I alerted the senior officer at each location and allowed them to distribute that knowledge as they saw fit.”

“It ended up being completely irrelevant,” Sergeant ‘Deacon’ Kay interjects. “When we reached the conference room of Indigo’s office, we had enough to arrest her.”

“The trigon team was…” Angela pauses, attempting to find the right word.

“Cataloging,” Nyla finishes for her. “They were sorting new, additional pictures that put Indigo not only at several crime scenes but explained how she had evaded CPS and past officer visits in the past.”

“She was mistreating her children?” Alex translates.

“Not physically,” Celina answers.

“Though there were early signs of that progression during the children’s examinations,” Nolan adds. “No, she preferred psychologically abusing her children. Brainwashing, manipulation, a sick sort of training, whatever you want to call it, she forced it upon her children.”

“And her employees, as it proved with the trigon team.”

“So, you find the trigon team, arrest them with relative ease, and then what happens?” Alex asks.

“It sounded like the world was ending,” Lucy answers.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Office Building: “Street, Bradford,” Hondo calls, “with me.” Street and Tim fall into line behind Hondo and continue moving through the narrow hallway. As they pass Indigo’s open door and empty office, a sudden, deafening noise fills their ears and the microphones on their body cameras. Every officer ducks forward instinctually and attempts to drown out the noise. “It’s coming from the garage!” Tim yells. “7-Adam-19, we need backup in the kitchen! Taking fire!” Lucy radios. “Go!” Street tells Hondo, “We’ll handle the garage.” Hondo nods and moves through the noisy house to assist the officers being fired at. “Eyes on Indigo!” Nyla alerts. “Moving from the kitchen toward the master bedroom!” Tim taps Street’s shoulder before they enter the garage. As the door opens, the noise grows louder. “What the-“ Street mumbles. “Go!” Tim yells. “Shut it off!” Street nods, then pulls the strap on his gun across his chest. With his hands free, he grabs the jackhammer being held upright by 5-gallon buckets filled with sand and water. As he tries to find the right button to turn it off, Tim circles the car slowly before he drops to his knees and slides his head and shoulders beneath it. “Eileen Indigo is in custody,” Nyla radios after the jackhammer silences. “Back bedroom is barricaded,” Luca adds. “Hold for entry.” “Bradford, what are you doing?” Street inquires. Tim pushes himself out, and Street immediately sees the blood – your blood - coating his hands. Tim says, “I found her,” then returns to his original position beneath the car. “Officers taking fire!” Tan alerts. “Deac!” Street calls into his radio. “We need a medic.” “We need a little more than a medic!” Tim barks. “Where are you?” Deacon asks, raising his voice over the commotion in the house. “Garage,” Street answers. “I can’t get over there, Street. I’m on the 3-side and there’s a firefight between us,” Deacon replies. “Victim has been located,” Tim radios, shockingly calm for someone with blood up his forearms. “We need an R/A. I’ve got a pulse, but not for long.” “Can we move her?” Street asks, moving to his knees to look under the car. “She’s not responsive,” Tim replies. “It’s not smart, but we’re running out of options.” “It’s probably a stupid idea,” Street decides. Tim turns his head, keeping his hands against your sides. “What’s a stupid idea?” “This car probably runs, has a big trunk… We need to get her help, right?” Tim hesitates, then says, “Get in the car.” “What part of move her did you not hear?” “We can’t move her much, she’ll bleed out. Pull the car forward.” “Hondo, we need someone blocking the garage, we're moving the vic,” Street radios as he climbs into the car. “It’s a button-start, if the key isn’t close enough, we can’t start it.” “Street, try!” Tim yells as gunfire grows louder.

“You find Eileen Indigo, take her into custody, and find the missing woman,” Alex reiterates. “And decide to drive over her, knowing she was injured. That seems like an absolute last resort.”

“Considering we were in a gunfight with Eileen’s version of private security and an ambulance can’t come in until we’re completely clear, we needed a last resort,” Nyla snaps. “It’s not something we’d do every day, but it was what we needed in this instance. It was try to get her in the car and out of the house, or risk letting the woman bleed out.”

The shot changes to Tim Bradford, who looks at a piece of paper lying in his lap but doesn’t speak.

“Sergeant Bradford?” Alex says softly.

“Yeah,” he replies, shaking his head as he looks up. He flips the paper, briefly showing the camera that it’s an image of you – smiling, happy, and alive. “While Officer Street started the car, I kept pressure on the victim’s wounds and ensured neither of us was in the way of the tires.”

“Officer Street’s recollection suggests you covered the victim’s body with your own. Is that what made this case emotional?”

“Amongst other things.”

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Office Garage: “Okay, let’s do this,” Street says, rounding the SUV as the trunk opens. Tim shifts, moving to your left side as his hands press against your side, just below your ribs. “The kids,” you mumble. “We’ve got them,” Tim assures you. “Do you know where you are?” You open your eyes and meet Tim’s gaze, murmur, “Thank you,” and lose consciousness. “She’s fading, we have to go now,” Tim states. “Tell me what to do, Sergeant,” Street requests. Tim looks around and gestures to a stack of beach towels with his chin. “Put those in the trunk, then come put pressure here.” Street does as Tim instructed and holds your side as Tim lifts you in a bridal carry. You groan, and Tim is glad to hear you reacting but terrified by how much blood you’re losing and your lack of consciousness. “Drive,” Tim demands as he climbs into the trunk with you. “26-David and Sergeant Bradford, transporting victim in suspect’s Chevrolet Tahoe, partial plate Foxtrot-9-3-4,” Street alerts dispatch. The hospital becomes visible just as Wade radios, “We’re 10-4 all around, code 4. Indigo and the shooters are in custody.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“With the teamwork of seven stations, nearly 200 officers, and a 60-hour-long hunt, the missing woman was located,” Alex narrates. “And is transported to the hospital.”

“Less than an hour later, we received a call that she died on the operating table,” Nyla says. “There really wasn’t anything we could do at that point, just hope that the evidence would talk, and Eileen’s reformed followers and children could testify.”

“You found the victim. How did that news affect you?” Alex asks Street and Bradford, now separated from the other officers.

“What kind of question is that?” Street asks. “Regardless of who found her, the news of her death was still devastating.”

“Calls like that are always hard,” Tim answers flatly. “But we didn’t have a ton of time to dwell on it before Officer Thorsen found something else.”

ACTUAL RADIO COMMUNICATION: “7-Lincoln-100,” Aaron Thorsen radios. “I’ve located another employee of Eileen Indigo’s. Albert Camden, in custody for 211 with a water gun.” “Yeah, Albert Camden was still relatively sane,” Wade deadpans. “He gave us everything we needed to prosecute Eileen to the full extent of the law.” “Why turn on his employer so easily?” Alex inquires. “She threatened to kill his family if he didn’t rob the corner store where he was arrested,” Angela answers. “After he learned she was in custody, he gave us detailed accounts of his time with Indigo and why he didn’t quit.” “And it was during this time that the final 911 call came in,” Alex says.

ACTUAL TRANSCRIPT OF 911 CALL: DISPATCH 911, what’s the location of your emergency? CALLER I need to speak to Bradford. DISPATCH I’m sorry? CALLER He’s a cop, and I have information for him about Eileen Indigo, but I don’t know which station he works at.

Tim looks up from the camera and the corners of his lips quirk up.

“Welcome,” Alex greets, shaking hands with someone behind the camera. “Thanks for coming to tell your side.”

Tim shifts his seat to the right and invites the 911 caller to sit beside him.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Mind introducing yourself?” Alex asks.

You send him a small smile and shift in your seat before offering your name. “I worked for Eileen Indigo for about 6 weeks before she decided she wanted me to be a 24-hour employee.”

“Meaning?”

“She invited me to stay in the office 24/7 and do essentially anything she asked me. I very briefly considered it, only to ensure her children were safe, but ultimately turned it down. It was at that time she abducted me.”

“Why did you decide to fake your death?”

“I didn’t,” you reply with a smile. “Sergeant Kay did, and after the role he played in saving my life, with Officer Street and Sergeant Bradford, I wasn’t going to argue.”

“So,” Alex begins with Deacon and Street, “Why?”

“We learned that the father of her children wasn’t out of the picture, not like we thought,” Street answers.

“Mr. Devon Taylor was not murdered,” Deacon adds. “He met with detectives at the Mid-Wilshire station and worked with them to try to recover his children from their birth mother.”

“Taylor had an associate who was planning to take over Indigo’s business and real estate endeavors,” Nyla explains.

“I figured if her enterprise was directly connected to a murder, he’d hesitate,” Deacon continues.

“And he did,” Alex replies. “Just long enough to be caught using Indigo’s bank account. So, he was taken into custody, yet your people were not alerted to the actual survival of the victim.”

“Right,” Tim answers through a clenched jaw. “A minor oversight.”

“One of the doctors caught it and allowed me to call Sergeant Bradford,” you say. “I had to thank him for saving me, but he did hang up on me.”

Lucy laughs, leaning forward, before she exclaims, “His face! He hung up and immediately drove to the hospital with his lights and sirens on.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“After a series of no less than a dozen once-in-a-lifetime opportunities aligning perfectly, Eileen Indigo was arrested and is going to trial in the coming weeks,” Alex concludes. “Anything that stands out to you as the case comes to a close?”

Each officer offers a lesson or two that can be learned from their time working the case, except for Tim, Deacon, and you. During Alex’s ending narration, a cameraman steps around a corner and zooms in on you. Viewers watch in delight as you smile with Tim and Deacon. When your hand rises to Tim’s arm after Deacon excuses himself, people begin to wonder if Tim got more than a good arrest.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS AFTER LIVE BROADCAST: (featuring your response to the massive amount of feedback)

Lucy Chen - 2 new messages

It’s not just us, everyone can see the chemistry🤭 Have fun on your date!!

He might not say it, but you’re Tim’s once-in-a-lifetime. Thanks for being there for him.

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

The Flower and The Serpent : a Walt De Ville x reader FF : four

A bit of 18 and up, y’all.

You had been living at the manor for about two weeks when Mr. Field arrived outside your room to inform you that Walt would be out for business much of the day, so why didn’t you take advantage to explore his home and grounds? His home was yours now also, after all, so nothing was off limits, not even his private library cum study. You smiled upon hearing that; Viktoria and Lucy were not permitted in that room, but it seemed you were. Maybe you really were his favourite.

Keep reading

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

fuck around & find out

summary: y/n is curious to how aces devil fruit powers work

a/n: i wanted to do ace cuz first, uhmm that’s my man. and second!!! the vibes are sooo fall rn & i love the cold weather,,,, so enjoy <3

warnings: MDNI, pussy eating, backshots, cowgirl, soft!ace (i luv him)

☆彡

~

it’s the cold months on the ship that have you cravinggggg some warmth, whether that be from your heated blankets, your warm coffee in the mornings, or late night fires with the crew… you just loved the warmth, especially this time of year. the ocean was getting colder the more up north we sailed causing freezing mists to come up and hit the deck. you’ve been hanging around ace more often too, attracting to him like a moth to a lamp. while he was back on board, you took advantage of your friendly little flame~

you are laying together with ace all cuddled up and cozy in his bed, he has a campfire scented candle burning brightly in the corner of his room. admiring the man before you makes your tummy feel warm and nostalgic.

he has you so close, arms pressed side to side as you’re both laid against the pillows resting on the back of his headboard. one of his hands start to peak out of the blankets, he stretches his fingers before hyping you up, getting you ready for his next move. “mkay i call this,,,, wizard fingers.” you can never take him seriously, your cheeks are so sore from all the smiles he’s stolen from you. wizard fingers??? this can’t be real.

ace wiggles his fingers before you as you see each one of them ignite with small little flame. you giggle. “shouldn’t they be called lighter fingers? you literally look like you’re about to go burn a candle.” he groans next to you. “oh my god y/n. you didn’t let me finish!” you stare at his hands as he starts to manipulate each of the flames from his fingers.

he pulls four of them back into his fist leaving just his index finger ignited. the flame starts to form little letters. each flash was a letter from your name. flash. flash. flash. you smile even more, he’s such a dork.

“it’s pretty cool, i know.” he smirks “wasn’t like i was even practicing or anything.” you think he’s so full of himself but you can’t help but admire, he warms your heart. your cold hands are on his body as he still has you close. his powers are so interesting. all of this came from just eating a fruit? you can’t contain your thoughts as you think of all the possibilities, he’s so warm.

maybe it was the skin on skin that were feeding your delusions but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of what he feels like.

he tucks his hands back away under the covers moving to hold your hands in his. you still haven’t answered him, your mind was still deep in the clouds. “okay maybe i was practicing,, getting it legible was kinda hard.” he laughed and you felt his chest move against your arm. “hmm?” you recollect your thoughts. ace looks at you. “were you for real not listening, y/n. that was cool! right!?” he looks at you to make sure you are finding this entertaining. “ahh sorry just not thinking right haha-” you mumbled and he looked puzzled, he shifted under the blankets to wrap his arms around you and pull you in a hug. his chin rested on the top of your head. “what do you mean.” his body burned hotter trying to warm you up.

“jus thinking about you- err well your devil fruit powers.” you curse yourself. but glad that you’re faced with his chest instead so that he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face right now. he laughed at you again. “what’s so special y/n. i just get warm. ‘m happy you like it though.” his arms tighten around you, squeezing you softly. your tummy was doing flips again, the way he had a grip on you sent shivers to your core. the feeling of his firm, scorching arms had you craving more from him. you knew he was teasing you though. he always would, he knew how much you loved his fiery touch and playful behaviors.

you’re face to face with him again, seeing red flames in his eyes. heat spreads to your face as his eyes lock on yours, waiting for any reaction from you. you’re lips hesitate to speak. “you- you get warm… everywhere?” your eyes avoid his. his hand gripped your thighs right below your ass, softly tugging on you to get your leg wrapped around his torso. you feel his hot fingers brushing away the stray hairs that were messily covering your face. it burned hot. his face proved that he found your embarrassment amusing.

“wanna find out?”

~

ace kisses you softly. his hot hand reaching up the softness of your shirt and leading themselves to your perked nipple. his hands are so rough, much different than the way his lips feel. he kisses the side of your mouth and whispers softly to you, “you’re still so cold?” he giggles as he watches you squirm at his touch.

“ace, your portholes are open. it’s fucking cold in here.” you whine trying to keep his heated fingers on you. his amused grin has you needy and irritated. you reach for his hands again. “just a second babe, let’s get ya shirt off.” ace helps to fully undress you with sturdy hands. a shiver leaves your body, covering you in goose bumps as the cool sea breeze hits your skin. “i’ll getcha all warmed up baby.”

he takes his hands and starts massaging the creases of your hips. kneading and pulling on your plush skin, slowly working his tepid hands all the way up your torso. the heaviness in his touch relieved so much within you, moaning at his warmth and his strength. he is manhandling you with you such softness and love.

hot palms come up to cup under your breasts tenderly, dipping his head down and sucking against your pretty nubs. his tongue swirls around each one leaving a string of warm saliva connecting from your buds to his lips. “are we gettin there, pretty? how do you feel?” wanting more, you pull him so that his chest meets yours. he buries his face into your neck and softly suckles. his breaths are hot there. “m still cold ace, wanna feel you” you whine for him.

his lips curl into a smile against your skin, he knew exactly what you craved. “how do you want it angel?” his clothed thigh pushes against your needy cunt, collecting many fifty whines from you. his fire ignited something warm inside of you, you need it to burn brighter.

his body shuffles down the bed, inching his face to be face to face with your sleep shorts. ace wants your juices dripping down his face, seeing you twitch for him has him starving. impatiently, he removes your shorts and panties, tossing them to the floor. he takes your hands with his own while he plays with you devilishly with his tongue, squeezing your palms slightly when he feels you try to move away.

his tongue attached to you like a magnet, chasing every move, he wouldn’t let you get away. he squeezes your hands again, “that’s it baby, such a good girl.” his tongue drawing little clouds on your swollen clit. “doin so good, can’t get enough of ya y/n~” he gulps all of your juices, sucking you clean. “haah- fuck acee. mm so close.” the tip of his nose brushed against the point of your clit as he slid his lips to your weeping hole, drinking even more of you.

he flicks back and forth from your hole to your clit with his tongue. removing one of his hands from yours, he reaches for the plump of your thigh. he squeezed harshly, assuring you to cum for him. his tongue moved swiftly with your slick allowing you to reach your orgasm. “ace! ‘m cuh- cumming!! shiiit right there haa-“ the sight of his glistening face sent an aftershock to your cunt, his smirk was so sexy while he was covered with your juices.

ace’s cock ached in his boxers, there were little dark spots littered across the fabric from his precum. “can ya do one more for me baby doll?” whimpers leave your lips while your head slightly nodded for him. “you did so good fa me y/a~ now you ready to feel this dick cupcake?”

~

your pussy was already sopping for him but still there was a little resistance when he slid into you. ace moaned breathily at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. “fuuu- shit y/n- feel so fuckin good mmmf~” his hot hands pushed down on your low back as your pussy was busy sucking around his cock.

your eyes watered at the shear width of him, he was spreading your sore cunt so deliciously. you felt your second orgasm start to form within your overstimulated core. he reached your cervix with one final slow push. once fully fitted around his length, you fucked back on him, slowly grinding your ass against his hard thighs.

ace tried to muffle his moans with his hand but you stripped them from him, he couldn’t be quiet. his deep moans echoed in his small cabin, ricocheting deep in your pulsating cunt. you throbbed for him, he curved upwards directly hitting your sensitive spot. ace gripped both sides of your ass to speed up his pace. pulling you hard against his reckless thrusts. he was getting sloppy. each thrust was met with the clapping of your cheeks on him, he groaned with each contact hit.

“wanna look atcha-“ he flipped you around to face him. you whined at the sudden emptiness but sighed as he soon filled you back up again. “don’t worry mama, wasn’t gonna take it from you.”

his voice was going blurry in your ears, dick so good you’re hearing auditory hallucinations. he took hold of your hips again while you sat on top of him, he rocks against you slowly.

you miss his mouth, his warmth~ wanna taste him again. your arms detach from his shoulders to hang loose around his neck, forehead rested against his while he fucks up into you. you’re ready, you wanna cum around him. pussy numb from feeling his tip abuse your cervix. “mm so close ace, please fuck me-” nonsense spilling from your lips, he is fucking you dumb.

your eyes are heavy as you try to line your lips up with his, drool sliding around both of your faces. he connects with you and sucks feverishly on your swollen lips. ace begins to pull you up and down on his veiny cock, bouncing you sporadically. the tightness in your eyes not helping you postpone your orgasm. “mmm ahh huhh- f-fuckk gonna- agh i’m cumming baby!!!!” the pleasure washes over you like a tsunami, it’s almost too much. your legs start to tremble as you effortlessly squeeze and clench around his width. “fuck cum in me ace- warm me up~” your wall’s are contracting around his poor, twitching cock while you milk him~ his breaths were shaky and irregular as he chased his own release.

“y/nnn-“ his husky voice filled your ears as you saw him cum inside of you. hips shuttering as his orgasm strikes him. pretty black hair sticking to the beads of sweat stuck to his forehead, his eyes tightened as he grunted out your name a few more times. glistening before you, he looked so ethereal..

~

* we are cuddling and warm and soo in luv !!! *

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.”

It's Bubba

Here is a new Evan Buckley imagine, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Birthday Wishes (Prequel)

Summary: When Evan's parents come into town, they aren't happy to find their grandson prefers Bobby over them. And they take their frustrations out on (Y/n).

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n)'s lips curved into a grin and she couldn't help the relief that overwhelmed her when she realised who was at the door.

"Come in." (Y/n) opened the door wider and took a step backwards to allow Bobby inside.

Her eyes followed him as he stepped into the hall, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other stretched down to push the small pedal bike through the hall. She closed the door, pressing her lips together to dampen her smile that threatened to reach her eyes. She watched Boby push the pedal bike towards the stairs so it was just out of the hallway so it wouldn't be a trip hazard.

"All fixed for the little man." Bobby stuffed both hands in his pockets and turned to face (Y/n) as she stepped past the stairs.

James had spent the weekend with Athena and Bobby and the three year old had tried riding his bike around the block, with Bobby's supervision of course. The four year old was rather fast when he had his training wheels but one of them came loose and the bike took a tumble.

Bobby had fixed the wheels back on and checked it over and he knew James would want the bike to play on before next weekend when he was due to spend the night with him and Athena again.

"Thank you, he'll be very pleased."

"Is he around?"

(Y/n) gave Bobby's arm a squeeze and pointed into the lounge. She stayed close behind him as he walked into the living room and took a peek around. Cartoons were playing on the tv, there was a colouring book on the table and crayons scattered along the floor.

And there was James, curled up in a ball on the sofa, head almost hanging off the edge and arms bound to his chest. Drooling onto the pillow as he dozed off in a power nap.

"Want a coffee?" (Y/n) kept her voice quiet, not wanting to wake James just yet when he had only been asleep for a good ten minutes or so. He would wake up soon and he would be thrilled to see Bobby when he did wake up. The three year old was under the impression that Bobby was his grandad and nobody would or wanted to correct him on that.

"Sure." Bobby patted his hand on the back of the sofa, grinning at the little boy that always stole his heart, before he spun on his heels and moved towards the kitchen.

He had come round today because he had the day off and Bobby hated to swing by and leave in a hurry. The one time he had tried to do that James had cried when Bobby didn't come inside for a drink or stay long. He wanted to hang around and chat to his grandson when he woke up.

"So, how are you?" Bobby took a seat at the kitchen table while (Y/n) flicked the kettle on and got some mugs out ready.

"Did Evan tell you his parents are in town?"

The way (Y/n) arched a brow and glanced over her shoulder at Bobby made him whistle lowly and hang his head for a moment.

No, indeed, Evan had not mentioned that little fact. Although it did explain why Evan had been restless on shift yesterday and why he had been so twitchy and distant instead of involved and forever bombarding the team with facts and new information he had learned.

"Oh, so that's who you're expecting?" He noticed (Y/n) had seemed a little jumpy when she opened the door.

(Y/n) didn't want her in-laws turning up when Evan wasn't here. She never knew what to say to the Buckley parents, things were always tense and awkward and she needed Evan to play referee and keep the peace and the tension down.

They were in town now and they had visited Maddie this morning and they should be coming to visit (Y/n) and James anytime soon. (Y/n) was dreading it, but if Bobby was here it might calm the waters a little. She hoped.

"Evan's on shift, how lucky." (Y/n) joked and placed a cup down in front of each of them, using the table as leverage to ease down and try to shake the discomfort in her back.

She slouched back in her seat, pushing her knees forward into the table while her shoulders jabbed back into the chair. The looser she sat, the easier the pain was to handle in her back and stomach.

(Y/n) hadn't been in this much pain when she was pregnant with James, but then again, she was having twins this time.

She almost wished Evan and Maddie hadn't told their parents she was pregnant. They wanted to come down more often now they knew she was having twins, just like they visited a lot when they had been expecting James. They rarely visited Evan before then, but once James was born they were down every other month and kept calling to see how he was. Evan had never had so much contact with his parents since he moved out at eighteen.

It was nice that they were trying to make an effort, but it was too little too late. They were in contact much more often now that Evan had his own family, but it still wasn't enough. Going from almost nothing to a few visits didn't make James see them as his grandparents. He thought of (Y/n)'s parents as his grandparents and he saw Bobby and Athena as Evan's parents, therefore they were his family.

Bobby had been there when James was born, he had seen him almost every day and cuddled him and took care of him. He and Athena were always taking James on days out and having him sleep over and were teaching him to ride his bike. They were his grandparents.

"I'm sure he doesn't feel very lucky. Does the little man know they're coming?"

"No, just in case they don't turn up today."

(Y/n) didn't see any point in telling James in case the Buckley parents didn't make it here today or something came up. And she knew James wouldn't be excited to see them like he would when he saw Bobby. James didn't spend a lot of time with Evan's parents and it had been months since they had last visited and over a year since they had taken him out anywhere.

They pledged when he was born that they would spend a lot of time with him and take James out places, because he was their first grandchild. So far they hadn't kept up with that ideal, and Evan hadn't expected them to either.

"Oh," (Y/n) took a quick sip of her coffee, pursing her lips when it burned the back of her throat. She set her cup down and moved her hands to the table, pushing herself up despite only just sitting down.

She aimed for the fridge and pulled down the latest scan photo Evan had pinned with a magnet, next to James's latest drawing. Which happened to be a stick figure James said was Evan, stood next to a bright red fire truck.

"Here," She couldn't hide the smile from her lips when she slid the photo over to Bobby and sat back down.

Her left hand moved to glide across her stomach where both twins were kicking up a storm. Her right hand began to tap against the table as she watched a soft but proud smile flutter across Bobby's face as he skimmed his thumb across the picture. He still had the first picture Evan had given him to announce he was going to have his first kid. Now he was having two for the price of one this time.

"For me?" He murmured quietly, wafting the picture before he got his wallet out his back pocket to keep the picture safe when (Y/n) nodded. "Only two months left."

"I can't wait." As much as (Y/n) was happy to be pregnant, she was eager for it to be over and to have both babies in her arms.

The timing was hopefully going to work out though. They had been warned (Y/n) could go into early labour because she was having twins, something which had put Evan on red alert and set off his anxiety. But (Y/n) was hoping that wouldn't happen because in three weeks it would be James's fourth birthday. Which happened to be on the same day as Evan's thirtieth birthday.

She wanted to get the party out the way and celebrate both her boys before she had the twins. The last thing they wanted was her to go into labour just before the party and ruin the day for James or take the attention away from him and Evan. Or to go into labour now and have two screaming babies disrupting the little family party they had planned out.

Maddie had taken the lead in organising a party, of course Evan had to know about it because it was for his son, but he didn't know the details. All he knew was he had his birthday off work and so did his team so they could all have a big get together. Evan didn't know where it was happening, what time, what was planned. Nothing.

It was a big birthday for him and Maddie and (Y/n) wanted to celebrate.

Evan had been head over heels when the day before his twenty-sixth birthday, (Y/n) went into labour. And when James was finally born, they looked at the time and realised it was three in the morning. Officially Evan's birthday. He got to share his special day with his boy and it had been the best present he had ever gotten.

"I'll bet. So, what's he asking for his birthday this time?" Every time Bobby asked James what he wanted or what he was expecting, he seemed to ask for something different.

"A fire truck. Like, a real one, he wasn't impressed when Evan told him he couldn't get one."

James had sat in the truck before and been for a ride and he was enthralled by the work his dad and grandad both did. He loved the trucks and the ambulance and he asked if he could have one. Evan politely explained the best he could do was get his son a replica toy truck for now which made James cry.

He wanted Evan to bring the truck home. James was under the impression that since his dad was a firefighter, he should be able to drive the truck whenever he liked and use it as his personal car.

The doorbell broke apart the conversation and (Y/n)'s shoulders visibly slumped and the way she flopped her head forward had Bobby's face softening.

He reached out to pat her arm before she pushed up and sighed, trudging out the kitchen towards the front door.

They were here. (Y/n) couldn't imagine it being anyone else at the door, she wasn't expecting anyone and she knew Maddie would be on shift this afternoon which was why her parents had gone to see her first this morning. It had to be Evan's parents.

Please don't stay until Evan gets home!

She had a horrible gut feeling that they would hang around all afternoon and stay until Evan came home from work so they could see him. (Y/n) didn't want to have to entertain them all day, but it seemed like that was a big possibility. Part of her hoped she could manage to persuade them to leave later this afternoon and come back tomorrow when Evan was off.

It would be easier for everyone, (Y/n) wouldn't be so drained if they turned up tomorrow, Evan would be home and recuperated after a good nights sleep and James would be a bit more lively.

The calmest, controlled look (Y/n) could muster plastered across her face when she opened the front door and was met with the sight of her in-laws.

Their smiles were warm and made some of the nerves in (Y/n)'s stomach die down, but it still didn't feel right to see them without Evan being here. He always controlled the situation, he steered the conversation and stopped his parents from causing any arguments. And if an unsettling topic arose, Evan squashed it immediately.

Despite everything Evan had been through with his parents, somehow, he was always calm and composed and (Y/n) didn't know how he did it.

"Hi, you made it. Come in." (Y/n) moved to let them in, watching the way they shrugged off their coats and hung them up as if they were round here every week rather than every couple of months.

They were more at ease than they used to be, but they still looked and seemed out of place here. Not like when they visited Maddie. They were happier visiting her, and for the longest time (Y/n) couldn't understand why. Until it was made clear why Evan had been born in the first place.

"Do you want to go into the kitchen?"

(Y/n) led them into the kitchen, locking eyes with Bobby who took another sip of coffee and stayed seating. He didn't feel the need to stand up or shake hands or try and make any effort in a big hello with the Buckleys.

"Would you like a drink?" (Y/n) rolled her lips together and watched her in-laws as they dithered, debating whether or not to sit down at the table or stand near the counter. They seemed to settle on sitting opposite Bobby at the table, although they looked perplexed as if wondering why he was here.

"A cup of tea would be nice."

She rattled through the cupboard for any teabags. Evan could drink coffee like it was water and most of the team had a preference for coffee, but not many of their friends and family drank tea. (Y/n) used to have a taste for iced tea when she was pregnant with James, but she hadn't drank much of it since.

An old pack of teabags was still in date and (Y/n) set to work making them each a drink.

"How have you been? You remember Bobby,"

"Yes, yes, Evan's Captain. We're well, we missed little James, where is he?" Margaret nodded towards Bobby and watched him raise his mug towards her before his eyes flitted over towards (Y/n).

Bobby couldn't help the nagging feeling that clawed behind his chest. They weren't asking how (Y/n) was. God knows when the last time was that they had seen or talked to her, and here they were not bothering to ask how their pregnant daughter in law was doing in herself.

But he held his tongue. There was no sense saying anything, Bobby didn't want to start an argument and he knew it wasn't worth it.

"I'll go see if he's awake."

With their cups placed in front of them, (Y/n) smiled and slowly padded through into the living room. She didn't want to wake James, she wanted to let him sleep because he needed it, but if she didn't wake him now and Bobby left, James would get upset. He would want to see him and Evan's parents wanted to see him.

They always made the effort with James, maybe because they knew they had messed up so royally with Evan and were trying to make amends through his son.

A smile fluttered across (Y/n)'s lips when she saw James was still in the same place she had left him earlier, cuddled up on the sofa.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to lean on the arm of the sofa and lower herself down to her knees. She smoothed her hand across her stomach, settling the twins while her other hand moved out and brushed through James's hair. She brushed her fingertips across his temple and moved his messy hair back on his head which roused him.

His tired eyes blinked open like headlights and be brushed his fist against the tip of his nose, squeaking a yawn while he stretched his arms above his head.

"Someone's here to see you." Her voice was quiet and she leaned across to kiss his cheek which puffed out into a smile.

That was all James needed to wake himself up. A shiver tore through him and he sat up straight, stretching and wriggling like a worm on a hook before he scrambled down off the sofa. He didn't have to know who was here, James loved visitors he would attach to anyone who came by.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) heaved herself back up to her feet and followed James through into the kitchen.

"There he is." The happiness in Phillip's voice was surprising, but it was James's reaction that had (Y/n)'s heart jumping up into her throat.

Panic fluttered across James's face when he saw his grandparents sat at the table. He could see Phillip's arms stretched out towards him like he was waiting for James to run into his arms. And Margaret was leaning forward with her hands clasped together and a sickly sweet smile on her face. But James didn't want to go over to them.

He didn't want hugs or kisses from the two people he didn't know very well. The grandparents that were more on the phone than they were in person. The ones who held his hand too tight when they sporadically took him out. Who were more often than not arguing with his parents or visiting his aunt Maddie. The ones who upset his mum and didn't often speak to his dad.

The three year old paused in the doorway, hands wavering in front of him as he tried to work out what to do. He didn't know whether to back up and cling to his mum or go over and let them hug him.

He didn't have to decide.

The moment James looked up and realised there was another person standing in front of the sink washing a cup, he seemed to become animated again and come back to life.

"It's bubba!"

Excitement flooded James's voice and his arms stretched out as a grin as broad as his arms fluttered across his face.

"Hey, there's my little man." A quiet 'oof' left Bobby's lips when the three year old barrelled into him like a bullet. He leaned down and scooped James up, setting him on his hip so the little boy could curl his arms around his neck and cuddle up close.

He pressed a kiss to Bobby's cheek and clung tightly to his neck, giggling and shimmying when Bobby swayed him from side to side.

Although James could say Bobby, he never called him that. Since the moment he began to talk, he could never pronounce Bobby and it always came out wrong. So James ended up calling him bubba, something which Evan had called James when he was a baby. Now that was James's special name for the person he classed as his grandad. He thought bubba meant grandad and no one corrected him on that.

Just like when he saw Athena, he called her 'nanny Nash' and she loved it.

"How are you, hm?" Bobby kissed his temple and eased back against the counter, jostling James in his arms. His eyes flitted across to (Y/n) when she sat down at the table across from her in-laws who could do nothing but stare at Bobby and their grandson.

"You fix the bike, bubba?"

"I did, it's all fixed and ready for you."

The squeal James let out had bobby's smile broadening and he let James pull him down by the neck so he could snuggle their cheeks together. He murmured "Thank you," and squeezed Bobby tighter.

The glares Bobby could feel being sent his way made him hug the little boy tighter like he was suddenly afraid they were going to try and snatch the little boy from him. He kissed James's temple before he leaned forward and set him down to his feet again.

"I think I'd better get going, I'll be on shift to see your dad soon."

"You leaving?" James grabbed Bobby's hand and swayed their arms back and forth between them for a few seconds, the disappointment clear in his voice which made Bobby shiver. He didn't want to go but he had to, he couldn't impose and he did have to get ready for shift soon.

"I gotta go, but you'll see me at the weekend, okay?" He kissed the top of James's head and rubbed his hand across his back when James let go of him to hug his legs.

Part of him wondered if the toddler was going to let him go or not, but James eventually unravelled himself with a soft "Love you," which Bobby returned.

He watched James clamber up onto (Y/n)'s lap and his smile softened when the three year old wiggled onto her knees and huffed at her stomach which seemed to be in his way. His hands tapped down on the table as he leaned back into (Y/n), curving around her stomach while she kissed the top of his head and wrapped both arms around his waist.

"I'll speak to you soon."

"Thank you." (Y/n) reached up and gripped Bobby's hand when he held her shoulder as he passed.

Part of her wanted him to stay. She wanted back up, help, a friend to stick around until Evan came home. But they both knew it would be easier if he left, and he had to get ready for work, (Y/n) wouldn't delay him just because she didn't want to be on her own with her in-laws.

(Y/n) was ready for a lie down.

She was ready for Phillip and Margaret to either make their departure or for Evan to come home and save her.

She rested her head on her hand and looked across the table at her little boy. James was sat on Phillip's knee, munching on a biscuit, pushing a toy truck across the table. He didn't look impressed, he wasn't settled.

The couple had interrogated James for almost an hour, asking him questions, trying to check on him and how he had been doing. What he liked to watch and play with and of course, James had told them all about Bobby helping him to ride a bike.

"Tv?" James looked across at (Y/n) who reached for a biscuit herself. She didn't like eating in front of Margaret, not after a few years ago when her mother in law liked to tell (Y/n) what she should and shouldn't eat. And she doubted Margaret would agree or listen if (Y/n) tried to say she was eating for three, which she was.

"Go ahead baby."

He needed no more permission than that to scuttle away from his grandparents and rush into the living room.

"Evan should be home soon." (Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair and leaned her head to one side. She tried to smile, but she felt exhausted. She wished she and James were visiting because then it would be easy to make an excuse and go home. She couldn't exactly kick anyone out of her own home, it wouldn't be right and they were Evan's parents, (Y/n) didn't feel like she had the right to tell them to leave. That was Evan's job, his responsibility.

"Why did you let him call him that?" Margaret's words took (Y/n) by surprise.

Her brows furrowed and she looked over at her with confusion in her eyes. What was she talking about? Why did she have that look of discern in her eyes and something foul on her lips?

"Call who what?"

"Bubba."

"Oh, well that's- that's what he's always called Bobby, he could never pronounce Bobby properly." (Y/n) smiled fondly at the thought, even though she knew Phillip wouldn't see this so happily.

It was just a name that stuck, something that James found comfort in calling Bobby. A name that he loved, but whenever it was Bobby's birthday or Christmas or a special event, James would get him a card that said grandad on the front. He saw Bobby as Evan's dad and therefore as one of his grandparents, and that was the way they all liked it.

"But I'm his grandad. You let him run right past me to get to Bobby, and he's not even family. James barely spoke to us just now."

They couldn't blame (Y/n) for that.

It wasn't her fault that they weren't around enough for James to feel like they were his true family, his true grandparents. He couldn't help being close to Bobby when Bobby was always in his life and they weren't as close to him. Bobby had cared for him when he was a baby, looked after him, took him out most weekends and dealt with his temper tantrums and checked in when he didn't feel well.

If Phillip and Margaret didn't bother to check in or be around for most of James's life and the important things, they couldn't expect him to be close to them if they didn't do things in return.

"He is Evan's captain, not his father and James shouldn't be calling him grandad-"

"He's been in James's life since he was born, he's as good as a grandparent." (Y/n) turned away from them, twisting to the side on her chair to stop looking over at them.

"No he isn't, I'm his grandad, you shouldn't let him call Bobby that, it's wrong."

With a scoff, (Y/n) shook her head and used the table as leverage to push herself up. This wasn't fair and she didn't have to sit and listen to them chide her for something that wasn't her fault and wasn't even a problem to begin with.

"How can it be wrong? Bobby's prominent in his life, you see how much James loves him."

(Y/n) threw her hand to the side, wishing she could just project her thoughts and memories into their minds so they could see this from her point of view. They couldn't just expect things to go both ways and want James to be attached to them if they didn't put the effort in and see him often enough.

She padded over to the sink, dumping her cup before she tried to tidy the counter. She needed something to do before they sent her up the wall.

"You didn't even say anything to him. He completely ignored us and you let him, he can't get away with everything-"

"He didn't do anything wrong." There was no reason for (Y/n) to tell James off if he hadn't acted out or done anything wrong. He had been affectionate and happy and he was now entertaining himself in the living room, he had been as good as always today.

With one hand gripping the counter, (Y/n) moved her other hand down to cradle the side of her stomach. She didn't feel very well.

When was Evan coming home? Couldn't they wait for him to have this argument?

"And what was all that about a bike?"

(Y/n) couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes and she was glad they were sitting behind her so they wouldn't see.

"Bobby's teaching him to ride a bike, they had a collision at the weekend so Bobby fixed it for him." She motioned to the hallway but she was rather surprised when Phillip got up and actually went to take a look. As implied, there was a blue pedal bike in the hall that both of them had completely overlooked when they came in.

She spun on her heels when she heard Phillip tut and gasp and her eyes widened when Margaret had tears in her eyes.

Her free hand moved down to her stomach that twinged like a coil within her had been pulled and she let herself slump into the counter to keep herself upright. Adrenaline was coursing through (Y/n)'s stomach and fluttering up to her chest, making it harder to breathe and her fingers were starting to turn numb.

"We could have- I could have taught him. For goodness sake (Y/n) that man isn't family. I'm his bloody grandad."

"Wasn't it Maddie who taught Evan how to ride a bike?" She couldn't help the snappy response or the way her nose crinkled and her upper lip curled into a grimace. They couldn't be pulling this one on her. They didn't teach Evan to ride a bike or show any interest in helping him and watching him grow up. Maddie had been both sister, mother and father to Evan.

That was the reason Evan was so desperate to be there for all of the moments with James. He didn't want his son to feel as left out, cold and alone as he did growing up and it was why Evan wasn't surprised when his parents fell through on their promise to be around for their grandson.

So if Bobby wanted to step into that role and keep up the pretense of being a grandparent and actually love James, Evan was more than happy for his Captain and surrogate dad to do that for them all.

"And he stays with this Bobby on the weekend? You've never let him stay with us," Margaret moved her hand to cover her chest like there was a hollow pain she was trying to blot out and it made (Y/n) feel infuriated.

Dread crept up the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she could feel tears burning in her eyes. She looked around them to try and peek into the living room, but James was none the wiser to what was going on. He was sat on the floor with a few toys scattered round him and a Scooby Doo cartoon playing on the tv, he was happy in ignorant bliss.

"I never- that's out of order."

Both hands moved to her stomach as tears welled up in her eyes from both fury and agony. She was starting to feel like a boombox, her heartbeat pulsing under every inch of her skin making her vibrate. And the twins were starting to shift around so much it was becoming painful. Her abdomen was tense and tight and weighed heavy making (Y/n) want to lean forward more than usual.

"You've never a-asked for James to stay with you." They had never asked, but even if they did, (Y/n) wouldn't agree. James may be a social butterfly, but he didn't settle with many people, only close family.

He wouldn't cope being away from home to stay with Phillip and Margaret, he would be crying and wanting to be back home. Bobby and Athena were different, James had been staying over with them every other weekend since he was one. It was what he was used to, and he was often staying with Maddie and Chimney when she wanted time with her nephew.

(Y/n) reached her hand out when James came toddling into the kitchen, toy truck cradled to his chest and a worried look on his face. He stared between his mum and grandparents, unsure what was going on. But he didn't like the way Phillip had his hands on his hips and how Margaret looked a mix between angry and upset.

"You need to have words with him, (Y/n). You're turning him against us-"

"Stop it."

"Well you shouldn't-"

"Don't shout at mummy." James stomped his foot down on the floor and moved to stand in front of (Y/n). He lifted his chin and looked up at them with a defiant look that matched Evan one hundred percent. He didn't know why they were arguing or what they were talking about, but he didn't like the way they were talking to his mum.

He knew if his dad was here he would of already manouvred in front of (Y/n) and would have told his parents off already. Without Evan here, James felt the need to stop them shouting at his mum.

"Sweetie I- we weren't-"

Both of them paused when a quiet "Oww," tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she hunkered down. Her nails scratched into the kitchen countertop and her other hand pushed up into her abdomen like she was trying to lift up the weight of the twins to relieve the pain she was now feeling.

She couldn't help the way her knees bent forward and she lowered down like she was trying to crouch or do a squat behind James.

The tears welling up in her eyes started to fall freely down her face as her chin tucked into her chest that was starting to shake. Her stomach was hurting, more specifically, her lower abdomen. Sharp, striking pains hit her like a knife and she shuddered through her next breath, begging for the pain to disappear.

This wasn't right. (Y/n) was on observation by the midwife, she was having extra check ups to make sure she wasn't going to go into early labour and to control things if she did. She wasn't likely to make it to her due date with twins and now, (Y/n) had a horrible feeling that this might be labour pains.

She couldn't go into labour now. She was thirty-one weeks, they had two months left before this should be happening, or in the very least, one more month before they should be thinking about this.

Her in-laws were stressing her enough to cripple her body down in pain. If they had distressed her enough to enforce contractions, Evan was going to hit the roof when he found out.

"Honey, what's the matter?"

"I- I don't…" Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) shifted to grip the table but her knees were almost scraping the floor.

She shuffled, bending her feet oddly to get herself across to the chair and she shook off Margaret's hand when the older woman tried to reach out for her. (Y/n) didn't want her help when she was probably the reason for (Y/n)'s sudden pains.

For a few seconds, none of them said anything. Both elder parents stood hovering by the table, unsure what to say or what to do to help. Margaret looked like she was going to reach out for James but he moved quicker. He stood beside his mum, leaning into her just a little in case she didn't want his touch, but he wanted comfort and security at the same time.

(Y/n) tried to take a few deep breaths and ward away the tears, she hated being upset when James was around to see. She didn't want to scare him like that, but when another pain tore through her abdomen, she couldn't help the way she started to shake.

Her body coiled forward and she swallowed down a whimper, moving her hand back and forth across her stomach but it didn't do anything, not that she was expecting it to take away the pain anyway.

"Call Maddie." (Y/n) spat the words through gritted teeth as she stared up at the pair of them through blurring eyes.

"She's at work-"

"Then call 911!" Her voice changed to a low whine and she slammed her hand down on the table to get their attention. She felt the way James jumped against her but he stayed close and did well not to cry too. If Maddie was at work that was better for (Y/n), Maddie could give them the advice they needed and get help. She could do something and call someone because Bobby was now at work and they didn't know if Evan was on his way home or not.

(Y/n) needed help and she needed Maddie if she was going into the hospital because she didn't want Phillip and Margaret to be the ones looking after James.

She needed someone she trusted who James would feel comfortable being around and Maddie was the only person they could call right now when everyone else was at work, including Evan.

Slouching to the right, (Y/n) flopped her right arm on the table and dropped her forehead down onto her arm. She could feel herself beginning to shake when another pain wracked her stomach in a low, dull throb. The first one felt like a contraction, (Y/n) knew what that felt like even after four years. And she would guess that this was some sort of stress pains but whatever they were, she shouldn't be having them.

A quiet mewl left her lips and she wanted to smile when she felt James tenderly kiss her arm and smoothed his hand up and down her back like he wanted to do something to help her.

She wanted Evan. They both wanted Evan.

… Evan could feel himself trembling, legs close to giving way as he rounded the corner and set off into another sprint down the corridor. His hands balled into fists at his sides and his chest was heaving, threatening to strain and break free from his shirt.

The moment his eyes locked on his family, a small puddle of relief started to bloom in his stomach. He felt better for seeing them, but he still didn't know what was going on.

His lips rolled together when his sights set on James. The three year old started to whine and wriggle on Maddie's lap, previously settled leaning into her chest until he realised Evan was finally here. He kicked his legs out and slid beneath Maddie's arms, sliding down to the floor so he could set off into a sprint.

James's arms deadlocked around Evan's legs and he tilted his head back, looking up at his dad with tears in his eyes and his chest panting and heaving.

"Daddy."

Leaning down, Evan scooped James up, allowing his boy to grip his neck and snuggle close into his chest.

"I'm here, I've got you."

Evan danced his eyes around his family. Maddie pushed up from her chair and stepped closer, her hand already on his arm giving a light squeeze to try and calm him down and give whatever comfort she could. Their parents remained seated in the corridor, hands linked together, worried eyes gazing up at Evan as if he was a profit that had just appeared in front of them.

"What happened?" Evan didn't know what brought them all here.

He had only just climbed off the truck after a two hour call out when the shift lead told him to call Maddie because dispatch had gotten through to the station that he had a family emergency. And all his sister told him over the phone was that (Y/n) had had pains and they were taking her to the hospital to get checked out.

He let Maddie steer him a few feet away down the corridor and her eyes flitted to James, but the toddler wasn't listening. He was happily humming into Evan's chest and drawing patterns on his shirt. Evan didn't have chance to change. He had sped from the station down here to the hospital so he was still in his shirt that was black with smoke, damp with water backsplash and tight and crumpled from heat.

"She started getting cramps, the doctor said it was the start of labour pains."

Evan could feel his upper lip curling and he tilted his head back, trying to dull down the ache in his lower chest and the fire burning behind his ribs.

"Why? It's too early… when I left last night she was fine. Where is she?" Evan wouldn't have gone to work if he thought (Y/n) wasn't well or if he'd of known she would go downhill like this. There was nothing to suggest she was going to go into labour and it was too early for that, this would be premature for the twins and dangerous.

Evan bounced James up and down in his arms and cradled the back of his head, tilting his head down so he could kiss the top of his head.

"They've given her something to stop the contractions."

"Thank God, Maddie what happened?"

The way Maddie looked across at their parents made Evan's stomach drop. What had gone on while he had been at work? Something had to have happened, (Y/n) couldn't just go into labour out of the blue when she had been fine last night and there had been no problems before now.

"Mum and dad were round to see them… (Y/n) said they were arguing with her."

"They did this?" His tone was dark but it was the look in his eyes that set Maddie on edge even more.

She watched the way he leaned down to try and set James back on his feet, but the little boy wouldn't let go of Evan's neck. He clung to his chest and wriggled in his arms, whining to try and get Evan to keep hold of him.

"James, baby let go for a minute-"

"They shouted at mummy."

Evan paused, crouching down with James stood between his knees with his arms bound tight around his neck. His hands squeezed James's sides and he kept him close, trying to stay calm.

"What did they say, baby?" He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer or not, but Evan wasn't impressed in the slightest that James had clearly heard something he shouldn't. Had his parents really shouted at his wife? Had they argued with her with James nearby to hear them? Had they upset his wife enough to cause all of this and panic his son too?

"They were arguing about Bubba, and the bike… they were being mean." James leaned his head on Evan's shoulder and pushed into his chest until Evan held him tighter and kissed his temple.

"Okay. Okay, baby you stay with aunt Maddie for a minute, then we'll go see mummy. Bubba's coming soon to see us all too."

Evan shared a look with his sister and he chose to ignore the panic in her eyes while he carefully nudged James across to her. He waited until she had her arms wrapped around him before he got up and advanced over to his parents. Both hands curled into fists at his sides and he took a glance over his shoulder to make sure James was at a safe enough distance away not to hear anything, although that meant Evan was going to have to keep his voice down.

"Evan-"

"I was in the middle of a double shift, and I get a call to say (Y/n)'s in hospital, so I come down here to be told she's in labour after arguing with you. And you have the nerve to stick around? What the Hell did you say to her to cause this?"

He hadn't even finished his twenty-four hour shift before he got called to come here. Evan thought maybe (Y/n) had had some sort of fall or she was sick or having some kind of pains with the twins. He wasn't expecting her to be in labour- which hopefully had stopped by now. And he wasn't expecting his parents to be the cause of all this.

"She got herself worked up-"

"Labour doesn't count as worked up, mum, it counts as fucking stressed out. What did you say?"

"James wouldn't come near us today, he's rushing around with that Captain of yours, calling him his grandad and spending weekends with him. She's turning him against us Evan, we are his grandparents."

A horrid shuddering breath rocked Evan's system. His hands found his hips and his foot began to tap against the floor as he looked up at the ceiling. He could feel his fingers puncturing into his hips and his chest ached at their words.

How were they blaming (Y/n) for this?

She hadn't done anything to warrant any of this. It was their own doing and now they had stressed his wife into labour when she was supposed to be resting and taking things easy until the twins were born.

"Just leave."

"Evan, don't do this, please."

"Bobby is James's grandad, always has been, always will be. He doesn't stay with you because he barely fucking knows you and I wouldn't trust him with you either. Look what you've done today, we'll be lucky if she doesn't go into premature labour now after this." Twisting to the left, Evan motioned his hand out towards James. "Come on, we're gonna see mum."

As soon as James trotted over to him, Evan grabbed his hand and steered him straight ahead. He wasn't stopping to argue and he wasn't having James getting worried or upset any further than this. He wanted to see (Y/n) and make sure she was alright.

He could feel Maddie close behind them and he rapped his knuckles lightly on the door before he headed inside.

His lips curved into a smile before he could stop himself and something warm flooded his eyes when they set on his wife. The moment her arms stretched out for him, Evan let go of James so he could move forward.

Evan almost melted on the spot when (Y/n)'s arms looped around his neck. He wound his arms tightly around her waist, trying not to squeeze too much and cause her any more pain or discomfort. His face burrowed into the side of her neck and he inhaled her scent, smothering his lips against her skin while he felt (Y/n)'s hand run up and down his back.

"Are you okay? What did the doctor say?"

Evan let his weight slump down on the side of the bed and he didn't miss the way the bed groaned beneath him and he felt it shudder when James scrambled up on the other side of the bed.

(Y/n) gripped Evan's hand and opened her other arm out, mumbling "Hi baby," when James crawled up and plonked himself down beneath her right arm. She didn't miss the way Evan's eyes kept moving to her stomach and she gently moved his hand to rest on her stomach. She wasn't tender or made of glass, he could reach out for the twins like he always did without fear of making her feel any worse.

"Contractions have stopped, but I'm here for twenty four hour observation to make sure they don't start again. They're both doing okay."

Evan mumbled his relief before he leaned forward and pressed his lips down against her stomach. His lips curved into a grin when he felt James's fingers brush through his hair, something the little boy had always seen (Y/n) do often.

"Sorry to drag you away from work."

"Hey, if you're not well I need to be here. Bobby's coming down soon, said he'd look after a certain someone for us so I can stay with you."

He could see the panic that fluttered across (Y/n)'s face and he felt her grip tighten on his wrist when she looked towards the door before she looked back at Evan. It wasn't that she didn't want Bobby to come by, of course she did, it was sweet that he cared and that he was willing to help them when he didn't have to. But Evan's parents were outside that door and (Y/n) didn't want another fight breaking out if they saw the Buckleys.

"Evan, you parents-"

"Aren't staying. Everyone who matters is right in here, so no worrying. Everything's okay."

They were all in here and when Bobby arrived, that would be their immediate family right here in this room. His parents had been told to go and Evan doubted they would hang around after what had happened today. He wasn't going to let this happen again.

i bet on losing dogs

Description: Roy & Y/N have big news to share with Oliver and Dinah but it doesn't go well

Warnings: pregnancy, talk about roy's addiction/sobriety & oliver being a bad mentor, angst

Word Count: 1.1k

Roy felt weird being in Star City after so long. He felt even weirder as he pulled into the driveway of Oliver's house. Well, more like a mansion. His hand was tangled with Y/N and she could feel the nervousness radiating off of him. She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, reminding him of the life growing inside of her.

"We don't have to do this. We could go home, order takeout, cuddle while watching shitty movies," Y/N offered. She knew that Roy could push himself to prove a point but sometimes he'd get hurt in the process.

"That sounds nice but look we're already here. C'mon, babe, why are you so nervous?" Roy wanted this to work out. He wanted to have a conversation with Oliver like an adult and he wanted his family to keep growing.

"I know that you and Oliver aren't on the best terms. I just don't want you to feel like we have to do this," Unfortunately, due to the circumstances of Lian's birth, Roy wasn't as present as he would've liked but he promised himself that this time would be different. He decided to start with his relationship with Oliver and Dinah, which was estranged, to say the least.

"I feel bad that Lian has missed so much with Oliver and Dinah. I want our baby to have a big family. I want our baby to have the birthdays with both sides of the family. I want our baby to have what I didn't," Roy reminisced on his days after being taken in by Oliver. It was surprisingly lonely until he met Dick and Y/N.

"Okay, okay. You ready?" She fluffed her dress so that her little baby bump wasn't prominent. While she was only a few months along, the two of them wanted to keep a secret until a little closer to her due date. It was a miracle that her dad and siblings hadn't figured it out yet.

"As ready as I'll ever be," He murmured after getting out to open Y/N's door. The two of them walked to the front door of the large house. Y/N noted that it was smaller than Wayne Manor. Roy hesitated before finally pressing the doorbell.

"Roy, Y/N, it's so great to see the both of you," Dinah opened the door and she hugged Roy almost immediately. She took a step back and ruffled his hair before giving Y/N an even bigger hug.

"It's great to see you too, Dinah." Dinah let the two of them into the house before shutting the door behind them.

"Oliver is just in the dining room," She said and guided the couple to the area.

"It's been a long time since you've been back, Roy," Oliver greeted his former protege and gestured to the chairs on the opposite side of the table. Roy pulled out Y/N's chair before taking a seat next to her.

"Yeah," He agreed. He expected the awkwardness.

"Well, let's eat," Dinah said before describing the various dishes that were laid out on the table. Small talk was made, it felt like picking at a scab that was aching to come off. There were even small jokes that were made. Y/N felt a sudden bout of nausea and the unease was present on her face.

"Are you alright?" Roy leaned over and asked. His eyes scanned hers with worry clear on her face.

"It's just my stomach," She said reassuring him and patting her stomach lightly.

"I'll walk you to the bathroom," Dinah offered, mainly to give Oliver and Roy a chance to talk. The two of them had rarely spoken since Roy got clean and stuck out on his own.

"How far along is she?" Oliver asked the obvious question. Bruce was gonna be pissed that he didn't know first.

"Almost four months," Roy admitted

"So, this is a shakedown then?" Oliver's tone was condescending as he fumbled in his suit pocket for a checkbook.

"What?" Roy was confused. Nothing about this suggested that he was here to ask for money.

"Money? I'm assuming Daddy Bats isn't kicking out money for the baby and that's why you're here," Oliver had never been more wrong in a deduction in his life.

"You really think that's why I'm here?" Roy's voice cracked and he could feel blush creeping up his neck. He felt like the scared teenager he used to be. His hands were clenched hard on his thighs.

"Yes," Oliver's voice was definite like he had already decided that this was clearly all Roy wanted.

"I don't want your money, I just wanted my kids to have a relationship with the man who made me a hero," Roy admitted, surprisingly calmly

"Roy," Oliver tried to interrupt.

"I know that I wasn't the greatest sidekick ever and yeah, I fucked up. But why is it so hard for you to realize that I am better now? I got better without your help because you left me." Roy said gesturing to himself. He thought he was doing alright in life all things considered.

"I didn't leave you," Oliver tried to correct it but that's certainly not what happened. At least, that's not what happened from Roy's perspective.

"Oh, so what would you call it?" Roy almost yelled. Oliver wasn't there when Roy was living in alleyways when he was going through withdrawal for what felt like an eternity, or when he finally put himself back together because he found out about his daughter.

"I didn't know how to help you. You were addicted to God knows what. Oh, and poor Y/N was just throwing away money to keep you in rehab," Oliver threw the final jab, revealing a new tidbit about one of Roy's rehab stints.

"What?" Roy damn near yelled. He knew Y/N was there for him but he didn't know to what degree.

"She never told you?" Oliver's face softened at the last moment. Roy didn't notice and just stood from the table. He could feel threatened to spill. He refused to let them fall in front of Oliver.

"Tell Dinah, I said thank you for the meal and that I'll call her later," Roy gathered himself before finding Y/N and Dinah obsessing over her small baby bump. Y/N could tell something was wrong right away.

"Roy, what's wrong?" She asked walking up to him and placing her hand on his stubbled cheek. His hand covered hers and he gave a shy smile.

"Let's do those shitty movies and takeout," He spoke so softly that she had barely heard him.

"Okay, babe," She knew now wasn't the time to poke for answers but she was sure he would tell her when he was ready.

Click here for part 2

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Do You Want to Keep a Secret?

Part 2 Here - Do You Want to Keep Another Secret? >

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: After Luca asks Street to stay out of the house for a while, Street gets tired and curious and accidentally crashes Luca's "book club."

Warnings: secret girlfriend, "book club" joke goes on way too long (Bridgerton slander; I haven't and won't read it but know Street wouldn't like it), fluff, brief mention of alcohol consumption, the one and only Duke!!!

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Street, wait up, man,” Luca calls.

Street pauses by the door of S.W.A.T. HQ and turns to look at Luca. 20 Squad had an early day and Street’s been eager to get out of the station and relax. When Luca waits for Deacon and Hondo to walk by before he begins talking, Street narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“What do you want?” Street asks.

“I can’t just want to talk?” Luca defends.

“If you just wanted to talk, Deacon and Hondo overhearing wouldn’t have been a problem. Spit it out, man.”

“Fine. I’m going to be home late tonight and need the house tomorrow night.”

Street opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Luca tugs nervously on his backpack strap, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Street.

“There’s something that I need to do tomorrow, and I just- go ride around or visit friends, whatever you want to do, but I really need the house to myself,” Luca explains.

“What do you need to do?” Street inquires.

“Something that I can’t do with you asking questions.”

“Why-“

“Streeter, please.”

Street nods slowly before agreeing to find somewhere else to be tomorrow night. Luca’s the best roommate and friend he’s ever had, so despite all the questions he wants to ask, he’ll give Luca the space and privacy he needs. As they leave HQ, Luca turns left where Street turns right, and Street only becomes more curious about where Luca is going and how he’s spending his nights.

“Book club?” Street asks.

“Dude, do I look like I’d host a book club? Or be in one?” Luca replies.

“No offense, but kinda. You’ve got that soothing, welcoming personality, and you love people.”

“Who’s in a book club?” Deacon asks as he walks into the situation room.

“No one,” Luca answers.

“Luca disappeared last night, didn’t get home until well after midnight, and now he needs our house tonight. Won’t tell me why,” Street explains.

Deacon looks over at Luca, and he nods once. Luca thinks Deacon probably figured out exactly what has been taking Luca’s free time, but he trusts Deacon to keep it quiet and not push like Street.

“Well, Street, you’re welcome to come over for dinner since you’ve been evicted,” Deacon offers.

“Temporarily evicted,” Street corrects. “And, thanks, but I already found a way to kill a few hours.”

“Luca, enjoy the Street-free house,” Deacon adds as he leaves.

“Hey!” Street yells. “Wait, Luca, is Duke staying?”

“Where are we going?” you ask.

Luca told you during your date last night that he’d pick you up from work today because he had a surprise. Seeing your boyfriend two days in a row is unusual, but you’re certainly not complaining. The permanent smile on your face since you met is proof that there’s never too much time with Luca.

“We’ve been dating for a while, but we don’t spend time alone,” Luca begins. “Not that I don’t enjoy our date nights, but I thought it might be nice to have a night in for once.”

“That does sound nice,” you agree. “But we both have roommates.”

“I don’t have one tonight. Street agreed to let me have the house to myself for a while.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much. He asked a lot of questions, though.”

“You know, you’re not the first boyfriend I’ve had who didn’t want me to meet his friends. You are the first who said it was because of his friends and not me, though.”

“I’ll introduce you when the time is right. And we’re not starting with Street, that’s something that needs to be eased into.”

“Then who would you introduce me to first?”

Luca smiles, and when he reaches the last stop sign before his house, he turns to look at you.

“Deacon, probably,” he answers. “I think he already knows I’m seeing someone.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Deacon’s crazy intuitive, and the only one who has any idea what it’s like to be in a committed relationship.”

Luca turns into his driveway and races around the front of his truck to open your door and help you out. His house is cute, you think, but the work he’s doing in the neighborhood is even better than the house. As he opens the door, you hear a dog bark happily.

“Is that Duke? I get to meet Duke?” you ask excitedly.

“Yes, you do. He’s the best roommate I have.”

“When I meet Jim, I’m telling him you said that.”

“He already knows.”

Luca opens the door, and you step inside before being greeted by Duke. He’s just as kind and gentle as his owner, and you fall in love with him in a moment. As you kneel and pet him, letting him sniff your hand to introduce yourself, you’re glad for a quiet night in. You know Luca well, but you expect to see a different side of him away from the public eye, and the dangers he watches for outside.

“This is the best date you’ve ever taken me on,” you tell Luca as he helps you stand.

“I’ll remember that next time I get reservations at an expensive restaurant,” he jokes.

“You know I’d be happy with your cooking, or a food truck, or a microwave dinner as long as I’m sharing it with you.”

“Don’t get sappy yet,” Luca warns playfully.

You already feel comfortable in Luca’s house, and as you follow him into the kitchen you catch a glimpse of what the rest of your life will be like. Your favorite meal is waiting for you, and you hug Luca tightly to thank him. The night is perfect, and it’s just beginning.

“I’m so tired,” Street complains.

“Go home,” Chris answers. “That’s, like, the entire point of having a place to live.”

“I can’t. Luca said I can’t come home until later.”

“Why not?”

“Wouldn’t tell me. Deac probably knows.”

“If he didn’t say why, it must not be too important.”

Street looks up from his drink and snaps. His eyes are glassy as he points at Chris and agrees, “You’re so right. You’re so smart, Chris.”

“And maybe you need a ride home,” she suggests.

“I’m not drunk,” Street argues. “Just tired and I want to know what Luca is doing.”

“I’m not going to tell you that you should go home earlier to find out, but if you’re uncomfortable staying out any longer… Where else are you supposed to go?”

“Luca would kill me.”

“I love you,” you whisper.

Luca’s hand slows in its trail from your hip to your ribs and back down. His touch is both calming and electrifying, and you can’t imagine a life without Luca. He pulls your legs over his lap to bring you closer. What started as sitting on his couch to talk quickly turned to quiet confessions and cuddles, which you would like to be a nightly occurrence. Luca kisses your cheek before promising that he loves you.

“I’m never going to want to go on another date with you unless it’s just like this one,” you say.

Luca turns to look at your smile and cups your cheek before he agrees, “I’m sure we could work something out.”

“You’re gonna have to tell Street then. Duke already loves me, so we’re over halfway there.”

“Or I could just get him, like, arcade passes to keep him busy.”

“Luca.”

‘We’ll talk about it later,” Luca whispers as he leans in.

His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck as he kisses you. Already halfway in his lap, you lean forward and press your chest to his to return the affection. Your hands move to Luca’s shoulders, and you grip his shirt gently as you push yourself closer to him.

The door opens, and you pull away from Luca quickly as someone asks, “Is this why you didn’t want me to come home?”

“Street, what are you doing here?” Luca asks as he gently moves your legs off of his and stands.

“I forgot?”

“Any other night I would believe that,” Luca says.

He’s standing in front of you, but you peek around his side and wave. You introduce yourself and say hello to Street as he waves in return.

“Why are you back?” Luca asks again.

“I got tired, and Chris kind of convinced me that it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to come back early. I swear, Luca, I had no idea I was going to be interrupting.”

“Because I didn’t want to tell anyone yet!”

You stand and lay a hand on Luca’s back in an attempt to calm him down. Although you understand why he wants to wait, things don’t always work out like you want.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Street says.

“Uh, Street?” you interrupt softly. “Do you want to keep a secret?”

“You want me to stay quiet about this? Absolutely; you don’t have to worry about that." He looks to Luca and adds, "I really am sorry, man.”

“Not exactly,” you say, though you look at Luca as you say it. “Want to start a book club?”

“I knew it,” Street says through his teeth.

“You guys want to come over for dinner?” Luca invites.

“Are you cooking?” Hondo asks quickly.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then, I’m in.”

“Sure,” Deacon agrees. “I just have to be home by nine.”

“Nobody envies that, Deac,” Hondo teases.

“I’m down, too,” Tan says.

“Sounds good,” Chris adds.

“Alright. Come over whenever you’re ready, but food should be done in about an hour,” Luca calls over his shoulder.

“Bring your own silverware, I’m not doing dishes,” Street demands.

“Sure thing, playboy,” Victor says.

“Hello?” Street asks as he opens the door.

“Kitchen,” you call. “Are you aware that it’s still your house?”

“Doesn’t mean you have to feel uncomfortable or stay confined to Luca’s room.”

You smile and when Street raises his hands in question, you ask, “Are you ever going to let them know that you’re not a playboy anymore?”

“And lose all my credit and the best nickname I’ve ever had? Not likely, future Mrs. Luca.”

“Now that is the best nickname I’ve ever had.”

“Streeter!” Luca calls.

“Second best,” Street whispers before leaving your side to help Luca.

“How well do you think this is going to go, Duke?” you ask as you follow him into the living room.

“This is the only book that I could find seven copies of,” Luca explains as he dumps a bag of paperbacks on the coffee table.

“Bridgerton?” you read. “Luca, did you think maybe there was a reason there were so many?”

“It’s good enough for a TV show,” Street says.

He picks one up and begins reading the blurb on the back, and you watch his face go from curious to confused to disinterested and disgusted.

“Not good enough for a S.W.A.T. team,” you explain. “And now poor Street is scarred for life.”

“Good thing we’re not reading it,” Luca says. “They’re going to figure out far before they gain any interest in the book.”

Street shudders as he steps back from the books, and you laugh before returning to the kitchen. Luca is making dinner, but you claimed dessert and two different options are cooling on the counter. The doorbell rings and Street walks to the door as Luca arranges the books. You run into Luca’s bedroom to hide and wonder if Street will be able to keep a secret long enough to pull off the book club gag.

“Hey, Deac,” Luca greets. “Come on in.”

“Is your girlfriend here?” Deacon asks.

“How do you do that?” Street exclaims.

“Dude,” Luca sighs. “Yeah, she’s here.”

“The book club bit is a nice touch,” Deacon applauds. “Worst book you could have chosen though.”

“I agree,” Street says dramatically.

“Annie couldn’t finish these books.”

“Understandable.”

The doorbell rings again, and Deacon and Street quiet as the rest of 20 Squad enters the Luca/Street abode. With all of them talking over one another, you can’t tell how the conversation is going.

“Why is there an extra book?” Hondo asks. “Did you miscount for this joke or is that part of it?”

“No, there’s seven of us,” Luca answers.

“Me, you, Street, Tan, Deac, and Chris. That’s six, my man.”

“Plus, my girlfriend.”

Hondo, Tan, and Chris freeze. Luca expected a louder reaction, so the stunned silence is a surprise.

“Are we going to stand here in suspense, or do we get to meet her?” Deacon asks finally.

“Hi,” you say as you walk into the living room. “I’m-“

Halfway through your introduction, 20 Squad finds their voice again and Hondo, Chris, and Tan begin speaking over one another again to ask you questions. Street steps up and raises his hands to stop them.

“I can answer any questions you have about her. Because I’m a great roommate, and Luca’s best friend, and I already know her,” he says proudly.

“What’s her favorite book?” Luca asks.

“I can say with absolute certainty that it is not Bridgerton,” Street answers. He looks at you quickly to ask, “Right?”

“That is correct,” you affirm.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Deacon says as he shakes your hand. “Sorry Street was the welcome committee.”

“If I get to see Street, I get to see Duke, so it’s a win,” you tease.

“Okay, okay, let’s go back,” Hondo interjects. “How long have you been together?”

“Almost six months,” Luca replies.

“Six months? And we haven’t heard a thing? Luca, what did we do to deserve this?”

Luca glances at Chris, who is pulling you away from Deacon and talking so quickly you probably can’t understand anything.

“The interrogation I knew she’d get, mostly. No offense, Hondo, but when we’re all together it’s a lot to take in.”

“I get that, man, but you could have told us. We’re family.”

“I’m telling you now. With food.”

“Touché.”

“She’s going to be around for a long time, though,” Luca promises.

“I’m happy for you, man. Just let me know before you pop the question, would you?”

“I do have a ring,” Luca murmurs.

“Next book club, she ain’t here and we talk about that little piece of information,” Hondo declares before leaving Luca to join the small circle around you.

After everyone leaves, and you accept an invitation to join Annie and Deacon for dinner next week, you fall back on the couch and lean against Luca. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you closer to him.

“You were right. They’re a lot, but it’s clear that they care about you, Luca. I’m glad you have friends – family – like them,” you say.

“And now they’re yours,” Luca replies, “for as long as you stay with me.”

“I like that sound of that.”

Duke jumps onto the couch beside you, and you pet his head. Luca imagines how different this will be when you have a ring on your finger and smiles.

“There is just one thing I’d like you to do,” you request.

“Anything.”

“Pick a better book next time. Something by Michael Connelly or Doyle, anyone-“

Luca cuts you off with a kiss, and you both pretend not to hear Street tiptoe behind you to eat more brownies.

Aftershock - Office Barbie

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2

Tim Bradford x younger!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Weeks later, fate (and a lost bet) brings Tim to a community conference—where you just so happen to be the key speaker.

Fluff

Warnings: sexual tension? kissing? not proofread

You didn’t expect to see him again.

Not really. You figured Sergeant Bradford belonged to that weird category of men you clash with once and remember longer than you should. Like a slow burn from a too-hot pan. Irritating, and then it lingers.

Tim wanted to leave the second they walked in.

“You two are evil,” he mutters to Lucy and Angela as they weave through city-funded booths and low-effort posters with cheap pamphlets about green living.

“This is what you get for losing a bet, Bradford,” Lucy chirps.

“I thought the punishment was brunch,” he growls.

Angela grins. “Brunch and an event. That’s how you learn humility.”

Tim’s already working on a plan to fake a phone call when the lights dim and a new voice comes through the speaker system.

Sharp. Confident. Familiar.

He turns his head—and his body goes still.

“Holy shit,” Lucy whispers beside him. “It’s her.”

Angela lifts a brow. “Tell me that’s not your girl from the construction site.”

Tim clenches his jaw. “She’s not my—”

“She called you Grinch,” Lucy interrupts, grinning. “You called her Barbie. And now she’s out here talking about carbon-neutral foundations in heels that could kill a man.”

“I think I love her,” Angela whispers.

“She’s not—” Tim tries again, but his voice dies in his throat as you scroll through your presentation, completely composed. He watches the way you move—elegant, direct, sure of yourself. You don’t look nervous. You look like the stage was built for you. Like the mic came from your purse.

You look… expensive. Like someone who knows how to win a boardroom, a bet, and a man—if you feel like it. Like the version of you he wouldn’t know how to approach, if he hadn’t already seen you in a hard hat and work boots, barking orders at construction workers during an earthquake like it was just another Tuesday.

You don’t dress like this for conferences.

Usually it’s practical shoes, maybe a sleek ponytail, something just polished enough to prove you take yourself seriously, but not too much—so no one calls you “daddy’s little intern” behind your back.

But today?

Today you wear hot pink.

The blazer is tailored, the skirt is short, and the heels are unapologetically sharp. Office Barbie realness. And you own it. You glide across the conference stage with your presentation remote in one hand and a bulletproof smile in place, heart pounding but controlled.

You’ve got this.

You’re talking sustainability in construction—carbon reduction, green infrastructure, water retention—and you know your shit better than half the men in the room who’ve been in the industry twice as long as you’ve been alive.

But then you see him.

Scowling like someone dragged him here against his will, still looking too good in a plain black T-shirt and jeans. And still somehow managing to make his scowl sexy.

You inhale, steady your hands on the remote. You don’t let it show. Not the way your stomach tightens or how your heart does a messy skip at the sight of him. You keep your voice level and your smile unfazed.

Because this isn’t the time. Or the place.

But God, you missed that face.

Tim hears words. He knows you’re talking about sustainability, about long-term environmental impact, about scalable urban design. He even recognizes a few terms. But none of it sticks. All he can focus on is the curve of your mouth when you speak, the fierce spark in your eyes, the way you command the room like you own every inch of it.

He's absolutely screwed.

Lucy elbows him hard. “Close your mouth, Bradford.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re drooling,” Angela stage-whispers.

“I’m going to kill both of you,” he growls.

“You’re welcome,” Lucy sings.

The second you step off stage, the conference organizer pulls you aside. Praise, compliments, the usual. But your eyes keep darting to the back of the room, where the tall, broody one is whispering furiously to his two grinning companions.

“What are you doing?” Tim hisses.

Lucy clasps her hands like a rom-com fairy godmother. “Helping you get laid. Now shut up and be nice.”

Angela tugs her away. “Don’t be a caveman. Go say hi.”

Tim glares after them. But he moves.

God, he looked even better up close. A little scruffier than last time. Brooding. And his eyes—so blue they could knock the wind out of you.

Tim gave you a slow once-over, and that smirk hit.

He stands there, hands in his pockets, the corner of his mouth just barely tipped up. That same annoyingly sexy, broody look on his face. Blue shirt stretched across his shoulders like a sin.

“Office Barbie suits you.”

You roll your eyes—but you’re smiling. “Still calling me that?”

“Still acting like you don’t love it?”

You step closer, arms crossed. “What are you doing here, Grinch?”

“Lost a bet.”

You bite your lip to hold in the laugh. “That explains the permanent scowl.”

Tim glanced at the now-empty stage, then back at you. “You were good.”

“Only ‘good’?” you teased, stepping closer. “I worked on that presentation for weeks.”

He tilted his head, eyes lingering on your mouth. “To be honest, I didn’t hear most of it.”

“Oh?” You raised your brows, pretending offense. “Too many big words for you?”

His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “Too many distractions.”

Your cheeks warmed. But you didn’t flinch. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Maybe,” he said, eyes dropping briefly—pointedly—to your legs before dragging back up to your eyes. “But the view was decent.”

You let out a soft laugh and cocked a hip. “You flirting with me, Sergeant?”

He stepped closer. “Would it work?”

“Depends.” You toyed with the button of your blazer. “Are you here to arrest me for having too many words in my presentation?”

“Didn't bring cuffs."

You gave him a slow, deliberate once-over.

“That’s too bad. I did prefer the uniform.”

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was a little crooked. A little dangerous.

And it did things to your insides.

Before you could say something even more reckless, a voice called your name. One of your professors—old, sweet, the type who’d ask you for lecture slides in a USB drive.

“I should go."

But when you started to step away, he reaches for your wrist—not grabbing, just touching. His fingers brush against your skin and it jolts through you like a live wire.

“Wait—can I get your number?” he asks.

You pause. Smirk.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He raises a brow. “You’d rather I stalk you?”

You lean in slightly, lips just shy of his ear.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

Then you’re gone—heels clicking as you cross the room, leaving him standing there with a frustrated groan and a look that says challenge accepted.

The event wrapped up an hour later, long after the panels ended and the buzz of too many conversations filled the air.

And there he was.

Leaning against his truck like he belonged there. Arms crossed. Jaw tight. Watching you approach like he hadn’t been doing exactly that since the second you walked in.

You slowed, one brow raised. “Stalking me now?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m just being polite.”

You glanced at the truck. “Didn’t think Grinches offered rides to strangers.”

He stepped forward, opened the passenger door for you like a damn gentleman. “Get in, Princess Barbie.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

The inside of Tim’s truck is warm. Smells faintly like pine and leather and whatever cologne clings to him naturally, subtle but unmistakably him and masculine in a way that makes your thighs press together instinctively. You settle into the passenger seat, crossing your legs, careful to tug your skirt down as far as it'll go.

He starts the engine. Glances at you. “Seatbelt, Barbie.”

You smirk. “Worried about my safety, Sargeant?”

His jaw flexes, his eyes on the road now. “Always.”

Silence falls for a beat, thick and brimming with the words neither of you are ready to say. Then he clears his throat.

“So… what are you studying exactly?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Civil engineering. Sustainability focus. You know, boring stuff.”

He scoffs. “Didn’t look boring from where I was sitting.”

You give him a side glance. “You mean from where you were staring?”

His mouth twitches—almost a smile. “You were hard to miss.”

You feign surprise. “Because of the heels or the facts?”

Tim shoots you a look. “Definitely the heels.”

You laugh, and he exhales like he can finally breathe again. The ease between you returns, like it never left—not after the earthquake, not after the adrenaline wore off.

Not even after weeks apart.

The car settles into a smooth cruise, city lights rolling past the windows. Tim rests his right elbow on the center console. His fingers dangle—casual, relaxed. Then they brush against the bare skin of your thighs.

Heat crackles up your spine. You don’t move. Neither does he. His pinky drags the lightest line over your skin—so subtle it could’ve been an accident. But it’s not. You both know it.

You shift, just barely. His finger follows.

Still, neither of you look at each other. You chew your lip.

“You were impressive today,” he says, voice lower now. “Seriously.”

You glance at him.

“Thanks,” you say, softer. “I wasn’t sure anyone actually listened.”

“I did,” he murmurs. “Mostly.”

Your brow lifts. “Mostly?”

“I was distracted.”

You smirk. “By the visuals?”

“By your mouth,” he says simply. “Hard to focus on what you’re saying when you look like that.”

A pulse flutters in your throat. You open your mouth to answer—but then the car slows. A red light.

And suddenly, he turns. His fingers shift, pressing slightly into the inside of your thigh. His other hand leaves the wheel. And then he leans in.

You meet him halfway.

The kiss starts soft—testing, brushing. But your lips part almost immediately, like your body was waiting for this, begging for it. His hand cups your cheek. Yours tangle in the collar of his shirt. His tongue slips past your lips, deep and claiming.

It’s slow for a second. Then it’s not. The kiss turns wild—hungry, open-mouthed, teeth and breath and want. Like all the flirting, the near-misses, the power plays between you were just foreplay for this.

Your back arches into the kiss. His hand slides up your thigh, firm and confident. You gasp softly against his mouth, and he swallows the sound like it feeds him.

Then someone honks, announcing the green light. You both freeze.

Tim pulls back slowly, his forehead resting against yours for a beat before he straightens and puts the truck in gear again, cursing under his breath as he drives. His fingers never leave your thigh.

He pulls up in front of your apartment building, cuts the engine, and hops out to open your door before you can even unbuckle.

Chivalry looks good on him.

You step out, heart pounding, the kiss still tingling on your lips. But the second you’re on the sidewalk, his eyes are on your mouth again.

You smile up at him, voice low and teasing. “You know… I live alone.”

He raises an eyebrow, lips twitching. “As an cop, I suggest you stop saying that to strangers.”

You grin. “Didn’t know you were a stranger back in the car, Sergeant.”

He steps closer and kisses you again. Harder this time. Wilder. His hands find your waist, dragging you against him as your fingers tangle in the front of his shirt. You kiss him like you’ve been waiting—because you have. For weeks. For months. For this exact moment.

You fumble with your keys, still kissing, still gasping between touches.

The door opens. Neither of you stop as you kick the door shut with your heel.

Tim presses you up against it, his mouth hot and hungry on your neck.

You pull his shirt over his head—god, he’s ripped—and he does the same to you, sliding your blazer off your shoulders, fingers grazing your skin, leaving heat in their wake. You gasp when his lips find your collarbone.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.

You look him in the eye. “Don’t you dare.”