Part 2 of Sweet as You
Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x pregnant!wife!baker!reader
Summary: After you find out you're pregnant, you try to use baking jokes to tell Deacon. Unfortunately, he isn't the first to understand you.
Warnings: fluff!! Street and Hondo. r is implied to have an irregular cycle?
Word Count: 1.6k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
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A/N: I swear I could look at his smile forever. An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas about using "bun in the oven" and Deac being oblivious!
In your bakery’s kitchen, you sit and press the back of your hand against your mouth. The last week or so, you have been nauseous, and emotional, and the smells you once found mouthwateringly amazing are now causing your stomach to churn.
“What are you making, boss?” your employee Tristan asks. “Smells amazing.”
You increase the pressure of your hand against your mouth while fighting the urge to throw up. It hits you then: you might be pregnant. What other explanation exists for a sudden sensitivity to certain smells and tastes, plus the morning sickness that has been pulling you out of bed even before Deacon wakes?
“Tristan, I need you to take over,” you say quickly. “I have a quick errand to run, and it may turn into a personal day.”
“Sure thing. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s lemon snaps in the oven and cheesecake filling setting in the fridge. Schedule’s on the board, call if you need anything.”
“Of course. Don’t worry about anything, just take care of you.”
You nod in thanks, then hang your apron on its designated hook before gathering your things. There’s a pharmacy just a few blocks away, but you want to take the tests at home rather than in a public restroom.
In less than an hour, you have five tests waiting on your bathroom sink as you sit on the edge of the tub and watch your leg bounce with the timer on your phone. When it dings, you exhale before you stand. You don’t have time to wonder how you’ll feel if they’re negative before you see two pink lines. Then, a plus sign. And a digital message reading ‘Pregnant 3+.’ Every test is positive.
You smile as you gather the tests and place them in a box below the sink. Telling Deacon has to be special, but you don’t want to wait. A baker joke, you think as you prepare to return to the bakery. It will be perfect.
Your stop at the bakery is quick; you ensure Tristan and the rest of your staff are doing well, then gather an assortment of treats. You ensure that Deacon and his team’s known favorites are included before you leave for HQ. Since marrying Deacon, you’ve been welcomed into their station more times than you can count, and they’re family to you.
“Wait,” Deacon says, dropping his guard.
“For what?” Street asks as he steps back.
“See how he perked up like a dog?” Luca points out.
“Uh, yeah.”
Hondo interrupts to explain, “That means his wife is incoming. I’d say in about, three… two…”
“Mrs. Kay!” Rocker yells around the corner.
“I’m getting pretty good at that, Deac!” Hondo brags. “Watch your back, my man.”
“Hi, guys!” you greet as you round the corner.
Rocker is carrying the boxes for you now, and Deacon’s team can’t decide whether to look at you or the baked goods you brought them.
“Dig in, they’re still warm,” you say.
Luca, Hondo, and Street tap your arm gently in thanks as they follow Rocker to a nearby table. Deacon smiles as he exits the ring and walks to your side.
“I missed you,” you murmur as he pulls you into a quick hug.
“Missed you too,” Deacon agrees. “I didn’t get to see you for long this morning. Are you feeling better?”
You nod, remembering that a few hours ago, you were sick but didn’t know why. Now, you press your hand against your thigh to keep it from resting on your nonexistent baby bump.
“I brought your favorite again,” you tell Deacon. “I’ve been thinking that I could use that flavor in some other kind of recipe, maybe make it a bit savory somehow.”
“Anything you make will be amazing.”
“Like you?” you ask, smiling as you lean against his side.
“Like you.” Deacon keeps his arm around your waist and drops his chin to kiss you quickly. He looks at the open boxes and says, “You brought more today.”
“I made a ton,” you agree. Then, you smile as you add, “Plus, there’s a bun in the oven.”
Deacon’s brows furrow, but his smile never drops as he asks, “Just one? That’s a terrible business plan.”
You laugh, caught off guard by how easily your pregnancy announcement went over his head. Deacon has been incredibly attuned to you and your needs since long before you were married. Yet, when you tell him you’re pregnant, he thinks you’re talking about your bakery.
“I’m going to go get some before it’s all gone,” Deacon whispers, carefully removing his arm from around you.
“Enjoy,” you murmur, shaking your head in amusement.
“The weekly visits may have been a terrible idea,” Deacon announces when he returns home after his shift. “It’s just enough time to make me want you around more.”
“I’m sure Hondo feels the same,” you agree.
“What are you up to?”
Deacon wraps his arms around your waist and drops his chin to your shoulder, pressing a kiss against your neck. You lean against him and set your pen aside, the beginnings of a new recipe jotted down in your favorite recipe binder.
“I started baking a new recipe,” you begin carefully, “but it won’t be ready for 8 months, give or take.”
Deacon hums, then asks, “How do you get your recipes so perfect? Besides being brilliant and all the time you put in?”
You close your eyes, smile, and drop your head against his shoulder. Deacon is smart, but it seems he’s entirely oblivious when it comes to a baby.
“Mostly time, trial and error,” you answer. “Which hopefully only applies to baking and not making other things.”
“Are you going to work tomorrow?” Deacon asks.
“No. Why? Did you get called in?”
“You’re stuck with me.”
You hum and decide to try a more direct approach. “I promise that if I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom to be sick, it’s not because of you,” you joke. “The bun in my oven just doesn’t seem to like mornings.”
Deacon nods against you before he steps back and offers to make dinner. You consider showing him the positive tests, but now you want to see how long it will take for Deacon to realize what you’ve been trying to tell him all day.
Forty-eight hours after learning that you are expecting a baby with your husband, Deacon, he has yet to catch on to a single one of your hints. You’ve tried every version of the ‘bun in the oven’ line, mentioned that you shouldn’t have rum cake, made jokes about your morning sickness, and even pointed out that being a baker is the perfect occupation to make it easier to eat for two. Deacon Kay is oblivious, you’ve discovered.
So, to get your mind off the dilemma of how to tell your husband without just blurting out I’m pregnant, you’ve taken to experimenting in the kitchen. When the third batch of your sweet and savory cookie crisps is finished, you carry the tray around the bakery and ask for your employees’ opinions. After six of them give you a thumbs up and one admits that she doesn’t like crunchy cookies, you package the new item and wave goodbye to your kitchen assistant.
You’re going over your weekly visit to SWAT HQ, but you don’t care. As you walk in, you hear Deacon talking.
“Hello, beautiful,” Hondo calls. “I finally beat Deacon to you.”
“Not by much,” Deacon points out as he walks to your side. “Whoa, what are those?”
“They don’t have a name yet,” you answer, passing the box to him. “They’re a twist on a savory chocolate chip cookie crisp.”
“I’m sorry,” Hondo tells you, laying his hand on your shoulder. “Your husband was distracted by the cookies. How are you feeling?”
Deacon rolls his eyes and passes the box of cookies to Street.
“How did you come up with this recipe?” Luca inquires.
You decide that now, surrounded by your friends, is as good a time as any to try one more time.
“I think the bun in the oven is making me a better baker,” you admit.
The men around you freeze, and everything is silent for several seconds.
“Congratulations!” Luca exclaims, hugging you tightly.
Hondo points at you with a bright smile and says, “You can’t give me that look when I call you Mama now!”
“Oh my gosh,” Street murmurs, reaching toward your stomach. “Can we call them Cookie?”
You laugh and say, “Sounds like I’m bloated, but sure.”
“What?” Deacon asks slowly. When you look back at him, his eyes are wide, and his brows are raised high on his forehead. “What?” he repeats.
“I’ve been telling you for two days, Deacon!”
“No, you haven’t!”
You smile and take Deacon’s hand. “You’re way too pretty to be this oblivious.”
“Hey, if pretty’s all you’re after,” Hondo interjects, shrugging as he raises a cookie toward his mouth.
“Back off,” Deacon chides playfully. He looks at you and asks, “You’re pregnant?”
You smile and nod as you raise your hands to his shoulders. “You’re going to be a dad, Sergeant Kay.”
Deacon’s eyes brighten as he smiles. Then, his smile drops long enough for him to mumble, “Oh.”
“You just caught on to everything I’ve been saying,” you accuse.
Deacon kisses you rather than admitting you’re right but pulls back quickly when Street asks, “Hey, can I be the godfather?”
“Over my dead body,” Hondo answers lowly.
“I feel like we’re interrupting something,” you whisper to Deacon.
“I love you,” Deacon replies.
“I love you, too. And if this baby is anywhere near as sweet as you, everyone here is going to love them, too.”
“We'll love Cookie, you mean,” Street calls.
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x grumpy!(kinda)grunge!reader
Summary: You and Tim are on a holiday vacation when your duo of grumpy and grumpier gets an addition just in time for Christmas.
Warnings: mostly fluff, playful arguments, one murder joke
Word Count: 1.3k+ words (sorry it's shorter than some of the others!)
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules
“Don’t touch me,” you grumble.
Tim pulls his hand away from your leg and shakes his head. “They look fine,” he replies.
You stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth to focus as you drag the nail polish brush along the side of your pinky. As soon as you put the cap back on the bottle, Tim lays his hand on your leg and changes the channel, turning off the murder mystery show that you solved fifteen minutes ago to watch the end of a game.
“So?” you ask, holding up your hands.
Tim looks over and nods. “Black, like usual.”
You sigh and extend your legs, stretching them across Tim’s lap.
“Grumpy today, aren’t we?” Tim asks lightly.
“Which isn’t different than yesterday, or the day before that,” you add, turning your head to look at Tim rather than the game.
“Do you know what today is?”
You shrug, and Tim says, “It’s almost our two-year anniversary.”
“We should dress up,” you reply. “Gomez and Morticia?”
“Any excuse not to smile,” Tim says, clicking his tongue to hide his smile.
“You’re just mad because I make you smile,” you point out.
“Pathetic,” Tim mumbles at the television.
“Could’ve told you that. Home Alone comes on in five minutes.”
“Are you serious?”
You meet Tim’s stare and counter, “It’s a kid torturing intruders, what’s not to like?”
Tim sighs, but he tugs your pajama-clad legs farther into his lap. His pants match yours, but his Dodgers sweatshirt is a stark contrast to your black tank top.
“Tim,” you call. He hums, clicking through the channels to find the movie. “It’s snowing.”
Tim looks up, leans over your legs to see out of the darkening window, and his eyes widen when he sees the flurries falling onto the forest floor. It had been his idea to get away from the city for a bit, and when you found this secluded cabin in the northern Los Angeles National Forest, it was an easy decision.
“Excuse me… May I… Is your mother home?” the officer in the movie asks.
You listen to the movie, but your focus is on the snow outside. As the wind picks up and the snowfall grows heavier, you smile. After two years together, Tim knows you well. He knows what you like to wear, your favorite food, all the things that make you grumpy, and the few things you love. Though Tim knows you love him, even when you don’t always show it very well, he also understands that being in love doesn’t automatically mean that you’re happy all the time.
“Hey, let’s go outside for a bit,” you say as Kevin realizes that he’s been left home alone.
Tim begins to argue, then sees the way your eyes light up as you turn toward him and offers his hand to help you stand. You grab your jacket as you exit the sliding glass door onto the snow-covered porch. After you lay your jacket on the snow, you at Tim sit side-by-side on the edge of the porch to watch the snow. He lays his arm around your bare shoulders but doesn’t comment on your lack of a jacket, even as he shakes his head.
Snow begins to coat the ground as the wind howls and flurries thicken into thick sheets of white blanketing the green forest. Leaning your head against Tim’s shoulder, you are content to watch the world around you turn white and forget about everything else. But the peace is soon disturbed.
You straighten from Tim’s side as a strange noise, like a sharp Ree-ow, comes from the trees. Tim’s arm slips from your shoulders as he stands on the snowy step. He looks down at you before searching the tree line. Quietly, you stand behind him but can’t see anything moving in the dark other than the falling snow.
“We should look,” you murmur. “It could be a hurt animal.”
“Or someone coming through the trees,” Tim argues. “I’ll check.”
He steps off the porch, and you roll your eyes before walking the other way. You each start out the outer boundary of the yard and meet in the middle, but there’s nothing to see. Tim shrugs as you shake your head, so you turn back toward the cabin.
“Maybe the abominable snowman got an early start this year,” you joke. “That or we’ll get murdered in our sleep.”
Tim doesn’t comment on your dark joke, but he stops suddenly, and you keep your eyes on him as you do the same. He gestures toward the porch with his hand. Turning, your eyes widen, and you laugh once before moving carefully.
“Hey there,” you murmur. “I don’t want to scare you, buddy.”
The black cat curled up on your jacket raises its head slightly, then burrows further into the warm fabric. You reach the steps and gently lower your hand. As you pet its smooth black coat, brushing stray snowflakes away, it vibrates beneath your touch with happy purrs.
“You just need a nice home, huh?” you ask it.
“No,” Tim interjects. “It needs to go back where it came from.”
You look over your shoulder, and the moment your eyes meet Tim’s, he closes his eyes and sighs. He can’t put up a fight, even if he wanted to, because he’s too invested in you and helping you be happy to deny you of something that brings you joy, especially this close to the holidays.
“It’s Christmas, Tim,” you remind him. You pull the cat against your chest, rubbing its side as it nuzzles its head beneath your chin, and ask, “Please, can the cat stay in the cabin with us so I can take it home? He needs it.”
Tim nods, melting faster than snow in Los Angeles. “Just be careful,” he requests. “We don’t know where it came from.”
“But he’s just a sweet baby,” you whisper to the cat before kissing its head.
“We should go inside,” Tim suggests, grabbing your jacket and eyeing the cat.
“I won’t let him steal all of my attention,” you promise.
Tim huffs as he opens the patio door, and you lift your chin for a kiss before you enter. Inside, you set up a small, warm bed for your new pet before returning to your seat beside Tim. He pulls you against his side as you resume the movie.
As the intruders fail to get through Kevin’s traps in Home Alone, your cat rises from its bed, stretches, and runs across the room to join you on the couch. He curls up between your leg and Tim’s, and you look down at him.
“He needs a name,” you murmur.
“Skellington,” Tim says without hesitation.
You look up at him with furrowed brows, but he only shrugs and continues watching the movie. It’s a good name, you think.
“Hot chocolate,” you whisper suddenly.
“He’s not brown,” Tim says.
“No, not for his name,” you reply. “I want hot chocolate.”
Tim nods but doesn’t move away from you or the cat.
“I think Skellington is a good name,” you decide.
“Maybe he should be Coal.”
“Coal is only for bad boys, and Skellington is good.”
“The Grinch, then.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be making hot chocolate?”
“You’re the one that wants it,” Tim argues.
“Help me out, Skellington.”
“I named the cat. You make the hot chocolate.”
You glare at Tim, but the longer you hold his stare, the less grumpy you get. As you begin to stand, Tim beats you to it, and waves as you complain about him arguing for no reason.
“What are we going to do with him, Skellington?” you whisper.
The cat slaps your left hand, and you answer, “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”
Tim listens from the kitchen, and fixes your hot chocolate exactly as you like, and mumbles, “Maybe we are.”
Description: Y/N Wayne brings a very special guest to dinner.
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: Cursing
It was rare that all of the bat children were summoned for a reason outside of their nightly duties. It was a sign that shenanigans were about to ensue and Bruce normally took this as a sign to drink heavily. Usually, it was because of Y/N but these little gatherings always left strong memories on each sibling.
"Do we need to be here for this?" Jason asked feeling a bit stuffy in his white button-up shirt. He already rolled up the sleeves and undid the first two buttons.
"Yeah, Y/N gets a new boyfriend like every week," Duke said looking through his comic book. He didn't have anything else to do but this was not how he wanted to spend his day off.
"This is different apparently. She said and I quote 'It's serious this time. I would have his kids,'" Tim used air quotations when explaining why all of them are waiting for Y/N to show up for dinner.
"Hell, maybe I will stick around," Jason said intrigued by the idea of his sister wanting to have someone's kids.
"Whoever sticks around the longest doesn't have to patrol for the next three days." Bruce walked into the parlor where all the children were currently relaxing. No one knows how Bruce does the things that he does but Tim's working theory is that there are secret passages throughout the manor.
"Oh, you're on," Cass said appearing behind Bruce. She was on a new mission to make Bruce flinch. She hadn't been successful yet but she could feel herself getting close.
"Everyone please meet in the dining room. Y/N and her guest have arrived," Alfred said with a smile playing on his lips because he knew that shitstorm that was about to occur.
"I wonder who we're meeting now," Tim thought aloud.
"Probably another model or actor," Damian said holding Pennyworth the Cat. He was only excited to threaten someone else for dating his sister. It had been one of the few times deemed acceptable to threaten people outside of patrol.
"You think I'll be able to get an autograph?" Duke asked. Unfortunately, no one was able to answer because they saw who Y/N's guest was.
"Slade? How the hell did you get here?" Dick asked, noticing how Slade Wilson's arm was wrapped around his sister's waist.
"Y/N get away from him. Is he holding you captive?" Bruce asked. If there's one thing that Bruce was going to be, it would be a concerned father, especially when it came to Y/N.
"What? No, he's my boyfriend," Y/N exclaimed so her family wouldn't start pulling out the weapons that were hidden all over the manor.
"I always knew one of you would give me a heart attack, I always thought it would be Damian or Tim," Bruce
"We're dating," Y/N said happily while looking up at Slade. He placed a kiss on her lips and all of her siblings immediately gagged.
"You're dating my nemesis," Dick accused Y/N with a nagging finger.
"Yeah, he was like thirsting after me real bad so I made him promise not to do dumb stuff," Y/N explained while adjusting her long box braids that were in a ponytail.
"It's true. I haven't plotted against you or anyone close to you in almost one hundred and fifty days," Slade said it was like some kind of accomplishment. He was captivated by Y/N, there was something about her that made him do whatever she wanted without hesitation.
"Thank you, I think," Dick's confusion was written all over his face.
"You're welcome," Slade responded before pulling out a chair for Y/N to sit in.
"Bruce, you're not going to say anything?" Tim asked. Bruce was indeed a man of few words but this was odd even for him.
"I mean I could but then I'd be a hypocrite because I did some stuff with Talia last week and I'm trying to be better. Alfred, please get our finest bourbon, make that three bottles," Bruce may not trust Slade but he still wanted to eat the dinner that Alfred painstakingly prepared.
"Y/N, can I speak to you before we start dinner?" DIck asked in his best big brother voice.
"Sure," Y/N followed him to a nearby hallway.
"He tried to kill me," Dick whispered a little loudly.
"But he's hot," Y/N admitted without shame.
"He's old," Dick was willing to try anything to deter Y/N from dating Slade Wilson, Deathstroke. A mercenary who had tried to kill him multiple times.
"He's a silver fox," Y/N argued back.
"Why are you with him?" Dick asked looking for a genuine answer from his sister.
"I like him and he's kinda funny. Plus he's got a real big-" Y/N's eyes widened as her arms widened to show the size of what she was talking about.
"Eww. I don't need to know that," Dick said covering his ears.
"I was going to say, heart," Y/N tried to be convincing.
"No, you weren't," Dick deadpanned.
"Okay, probably not,"
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!SWAT!sniper!reader
Summary: Mid-Wilshire officers need assistance, so your SWAT team joins them to diffuse a hostage situation. As a result, Lucy learns that Tim has a girlfriend.
Warnings: hostage situation, this is early seasons but I added Nyla bc I love her, fluff, crossover, some grumpy!Tim
Word Count: 2.8k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info
“Can you see me now?”
“Street,” you sigh into your radio. “Why are you whispering? You’re 46 yards away, it’s not like I’m going to locate you by sonar.”
“So, you’re saying you couldn’t shoot me from here?”
“Considering your big head is square in my sights, no, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“My head is not big!”
“Are you two done?” Hondo asks tiredly.
“Depends,” you answer with a smile. “Why are you asking?”
“20 Squad,” Hicks calls over the radio. “Mid-Wilshire division just requested tactical support. There’s a hostage situation at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, corner of Wilshire and Fairfax.”
“Let’s roll!” Hondo commands.
You stand from your position and ignore Street’s static murmur of “That’s where you were” as you return your long-range precision sniper to its case.
“I need my AR-10,” you request as you approach the SWAT parking lot.
“Loaded in Black Betty,” Luca yells from the driver’s seat.
“You’re the best, Luca!”
“I know.”
“Officer Lopez?” Hondo inquires as you exit Black Betty at the corner of Ogden Street and Wilshire Boulevard.
“Thanks for coming,” she answers. “We’ve got an active shooter and at least fifteen known hostages. Our shooter, Wayne Ritter, entered the building, toured the exhibits, then disarmed a security guard and started making demands.”
“How long ago?” Deacon asks.
“About an hour. We’ve had a hostage negotiator on the phone with him several times but he’s not making any progress.”
“Has he fired any shots?”
“At least three. We’re not sure if anyone is injured.”
“You’ve got officers on the east side of the building by the urban light display,” you point out. “You think he’s going to use that exit?”
“Just trying to cover our bases,” another woman answers. “I’m Officer Harper, I work with UCs, just assisting the detectives on this one. Ritter’s a prime suspect in a carjacking turned homicide a few miles from here.”
“There are three sets of doors on the north side of the building. Open into a fenced area that backs up to Fairfax,” Tan says, looking at a virtual map.
“Can he get to the underground parking from there?” Luca asks.
“If he hops the fence, yeah.”
“We’ve got officers blocking off the parking area,” Angela explains. “And three groups waiting on Fairfax, including my rookie. If he leaves, we’ve got him.”
“We’re just more worried about what he’ll do to get out,” Nyla adds.
You look around the immediate area as Deacon gets more information about the employees, security guard, and the operating cameras inside the museum. When Hondo notices your furrowed brows, he steps toward you.
“What are you thinkin’?”
“Three doors at the back into a fenced area is a terrible choice. A few doors and an emergency exit to the east trap you with a bunch of cops. The building’s probably locked down, so he can’t get to parking from inside,” you list off. “If he hasn’t tried to leave, it means he’s looked. There’s only a few windows in the building.”
“You want to find him.”
You nod and point toward the intersection of Wilshire and Fairfax. “There’s windows on this side, facing south. If I can locate him, I can take him down.”
“We can’t get you close enough,” Harper interjects. “We’ve got deadly force authorization, but we can’t risk putting you anywhere near his eyeline."
You smile at her concerns, and Street steps back.
“Can he see 433 feet above street level?” you challenge.
“145 yards?” Luca asks incredulously.
“The AR-10 shoots up to 600.”
“It’s not about the gun,” Deacon adds.
You turn toward Hondo, hoping he has more faith in you than the rest of your team.
“She can do it,” Street argues.
Lopez watches you and Hondo, and Nyla raises her phone to her ear.
“5900 Wilshire Boulevard,” she says. “31-stories?... Yes, sir…” She ends the call and tells Hondo, “SBE officials are allowing us to use the building as we need.”
Hondo sighs and shakes his head. “You’re lucky I trust you.” He smiles as he adds, “That we all trust you. Get up there and find this guy.”
You nod and then pull your AR-10 onto your back and run down Wilshire Boulevard to enter the skyscraper.
“Hopefully he actually has a big head,” Street calls after you.
A shot rings from the museum, and Angela raises her radio to ask, “Bradford? Where’d that shot come from?”
Tim and Lucy duck behind a concrete art installment east of the museum as a shot echoes off the smooth surfaces surrounding them.
“Bradford? Where’s that shot come from?” Angela asks.
“Northeast corner,” he answers. “Chen and I are south of the gate.”
“SWAT team’s here and we’ve got a sniper getting in position. Any sign of our hostages?”
Tim moves to the end of the abstract wave he’s using as cover but can’t see anything through the dark windows of the door closest to him.
“Nope. Nolan’s in the garage. Interior access can’t be far from where that shot came from.”
“Nolan?” Harper calls. “What’s your status?”
“All clear down here. The doors haven’t opened. We’re holding a few civilians on the far east wall. The shot was above us,” Nolan explains. “Probably not far from the south entrances.”
“Can somebody get a thermal reading?” Nyla asks loudly.
“Walls are too thick from this direction,” an officer answers. “Airship One is two minutes out, going to try to get a shot from the roof.”
“Send us in,” Hondo suggests. “We’ve got thermal scanners, if we can get to a window or door, we can find this guy.”
“Harper, Lopez!” someone calls from the mobile control center. “Grey’s on the phone with Ritter!”
Hondo follows Angela and Nyla into the trailer, where Sergeant Grey has a call on speaker.
“I understand, Wayne. We’re working on getting that for you. But I need to know that everyone inside is okay. We heard a shot, and you aren’t trusting me enough to tell me what happened.”
“‘Cause nothing happened!” Wayne snaps.
“Okay,” Grey concedes, turning to look at Angela. “Then can you tell me how many people are with you? We’ll need to help them, too.”
“They don’t matter!”
Someone screams in the background, a sound laced with fear. Wade shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Twenty minutes,” Wayne demands. “Or there will be one less person for you to help.”
“Mr. Ritter!”
The line beeps, and Wade slams the button to silence the ended call. “He is progressing and if we don’t get some eyes in there quickly, we’re going to be cleaning up a slaughter instead of recovering hostages.”
Hondo raises his hand to his ear, and the Mid-Wilshire officers watch as he smiles.
“I might be able to help with that,” he says.
When you finally reach the thirty-first floor, your adrenaline is pumping, but your breathing is slow and even. You had to stop three well-dressed businessmen from getting on the elevator with you. One even had the nerve to flirt with you until he saw the gun at your back. So, when you finally step out onto the roof, you sigh in relief. At the northwest corner, you lower to one knee and raise your handheld scope, which shows distance, wind direction, wind speed, and crosswinds.
“Perfect,” you murmur.
After you raise your gun to your shoulder, you lean toward your dominant side and use the ultra-clear scope to look into the southern windows. You move your steadying hand to your radio, propping the gun against the concrete pillar before you, and switch your radio on.
“Hondo, I’m in position,” you alert. “Got eyes in the back windows.”
“10-4,” he replies. “I’m with Mid-Wilshire’s watch commander. If you get a shot, take it.”
“Can I get a physical description of our guy?” you request. “I’d rather not pull an accidental Jack Traven and shoot a hostage.”
“Right here,” Grey offers as he pulls up Wayne Ritter’s record on a laptop. “Security cameras are showing him in dark blue jeans, a white or yellow button-down shirt, and a new mustache.”
Hondo raises his phone and takes a picture of the screen, then speaks to you as he types. “I’m sending you a picture. 5’10”, dark hair, wearing dark blue jeans, a light button-down, and he’s got a mustache now.”
“New look for a new crime?” you joke.
“New attempt, at least,” Hondo agrees. “Deacon and Street are moving to the east side to assist, and Luca and Tan are taking Black Betty to 6th and Fairfax in case he tries to run.”
“Hondo, is anyone covering the west side of the building? If he finds a way to bail that direction, he can get to Orange and disappear.”
“You have someone on the west side?” Hondo asks the people in the trailer with him.
“All units,” Wade radios. “Who’s covering the west side?”
“Bradford and Chen,” Lucy answers. “There’s only one egress route, but it’s locked.”
“Don’t try to open doors, Chen!”
“I didn’t! I can see the lock.”
Wade shakes his hand and gestures to the radio in a there’s your answer motion. Hondo smiles knowingly and relays the information to you.
“Is there exterior roof access?” you ask.
“Not that we know of.”
“Hondo, I’ve got movement,” you alert, shifting your weight as you prepare to shoot.
“Movement at the northside doors, too,” Street calls.
“Eyes on several subjects on north side,” a Mid-Wilshire officer notifies.
“He’s planning a roach light,” you and Tim Bradford radio simultaneously.
“Roach-light?” Nyla asks.
“When you turn on a light, roaches run in different directions and you can’t pick out any particular one,” Hondo explains. “I thought our girl was the only one that used that nasty analogy, but I guess she’s infecting your people with it, too.”
“That’s not the only thing she’s teaching him,” Angela points out. “He’s learning some manners, too.”
“Who?” Nyla asks.
“Focus,” Wade encourages.
Hondo switches his radio from his earpiece to the small speaker attached to his vest as officers continue alerting Grey, Lopez, and Bishop of movement in the museum. He shakes his head and prepares to call out for you just before you radio.
“Eyes on Ritter. I’ve got a shot.”
Wade nods, and Hondo commands, “Take it.”
You exhale as you squeeze the trigger. After your shoulder jerks back slightly, you reposition yourself to watch the impact. The bullet hisses through the air for only a second, and then the glass of the center window shatters before Wayne Ritter hits the ground.
“Suspect down,” you radio. “Code 4 here.”
“All units, Ritter is down,” Wade alerts. “Repeat, Ritter is down. Move in for hostage recovery.”
“Street, Deacon, move in on southern windows,” Hondo says as he exits the police trailer.
While you watch through your scope, he meets your team and, with Street, covers Deacon while he climbs through the broken window and kneels to secure Mr. Ritter.
“Nice shot,” Deacon applauds, looking up toward the roof you’re waiting on.
“Thanks, Deac,” you answer. “Hey, Street, that’s how you get someone down while making sure they can still pay for their crimes on this side of the grave.”
“Say that to my face,” he retorts.
“I am. You just can’t see me.”
“Hondo,” Street begins.
“I’m not getting in the middle of this. Get this guy to transport so we can help with recovery. Deac, on me.”
As Street pulls the injured shooter toward a waiting police cruiser, you lift your rifle and return to the roof access door. The trip down is faster than it was going up, and you walk toward a group of officers gathering the hostages outside of the museum.
“Who’s that?” Lucy asks as you walk to Nolan’s side.
“How can I help?” you offer before she gets an answer. “My team is clearing the upper levels.”
Nyla calls your name, jogging toward you. “Ritter didn’t have the gun on him, and he’s saying that he had his own plus the one he lifted from the guard.”
“I’ll find them,” you reply. “I’ll let my team know so they can keep an eye out too.”
“I’ll help,” Tim offers.
You nod and step away with him as Nolan joins you. Lucy watches you go, completely enamored by you and your skills.
“Who is that?” she repeats.
“The SWAT sniper?” Angela clarifies. “That’s Bradford’s girlfriend.”
Lucy’s jaw drops as her eyes widen. “She is Bradford’s what?”
“Your TO didn’t share that? Shocking.”
“Is there really a sniper here?” Jackson asks excitedly. “The one time I agree to go somewhere without my TO, I miss a sniper.”
“Not just a sniper,” Lucy explains. “Bradford’s sniper girlfriend.”
“Well, duh, she’s the best sniper in LA county.”
Lucy throws her arms up and asks, “Did everyone know except me?”
“Bishop knows too,” Jackson adds to mess with Lucy.
“As much as I’m not enjoying all this TO-rookie talk, I’ve more cases to work,” Nyla interrupts. “It was kind of nice to meet you all.”
“See you around!” Angela calls.
“You sound sure of that.”
“Call it a hunch, partner.”
Nyla waves off Angela’s teasing tone and turns toward an unmarked car. As Lucy continues asking questions about how someone like you ended up with someone like Tim, you search the museum for the weapons Ritter left behind in his attempt to flee.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just storm in and save the day,” you tell Tim as you circle an art display.
“Last time I did that, you threatened to shoot me,” he points out.
“Because you need to stop putting your life in danger when there are better options.”
“You mean like calling you?”
You smile at Tim over the top of the ceramic statue and shake your head. He raises his brows and prepares to speak before Nolan clears his throat.
“I found a gun,” he states when you look over. “I’m sure it can wait, though.”
“Where, boot?” Tim snaps.
You look at him to communicate a silent warning to be nice.
“Behind the plaster self-portrait over here. Looks like a standard issue private security piece,” Nolan answers.
You follow Tim to the wall and nod as you look at the weapon. While you tell Hondo, Tim tells Grey. In less than five minutes, you locate the other gun and regroup with your team outside the museum. Several officers thank you for your assistance or applaud your clean shot, and you ignore Street’s dramatic and sarcastic fawning over you.
“Oh, you shot that unarmed man so well! Will you please sign my face?” he asks, clasping his hands together as he raises his voice.
“Uh, excuse me?” someone asks, looking between you and Street. “Is it true that you’re dating Officer Bradford?”
“You must be Lucy,” you realize, offering your name and hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I swear none of it is true.”
You lean toward her and whisper, “Tim’s not as hard on you when you’re not around, just so you know.”
“Why are you dating him?” she blurts out. “You’re so different, so nice, and he’s so… Tim.”
“People like us tend to find each other on accident,” you explain. “I got lucky with Tim.”
“What Officer Chen is trying to ask is why you’re dating a cop that is nowhere near as talented or cool as you,” Hondo offers, smiling at something over your shoulder.
“Is she asking that?” Tim muses behind you. “That’s interesting.”
“Honestly, it’s a fair question,” Lucy admits, shrugging.
“Why do you seem so surprised?” you wonder aloud.
“I’m shocked! I thought he was single, for one, but you’re amazing! You can do anything!”
“Or date anyone,” Street adds. “Hondo has been trying to make her see that for years.”
Hondo shakes his head, looking at Tim as he promises, “I have not.”
“Now that we’ve established she’s too good and talented for me, Chen, maybe we should get back to work,” Tim announces.
“Why bother?” you tease. “I already did all the heavy lifting.”
Hondo’s phone chimes, and he sighs before he says, “We gotta roll.”
“I’ll see you tonight?” you ask Tim.
He nods and doesn’t complain when you step toward him and kiss his cheek.
“Don’t be too hard on Chen,” you whisper.
“She’ll be busy spearheading your fan club,” he grumbles. “Or starting a petition for you to dump me.”
“People like us work, Tim. That’s why we’re so great together.” You step back and smile as you call, “Nice to meet you, Lucy.”
“You, too!”
After you get into Black Betty and close the door, Lucy and Tim stand side-by-side and watch until the lights disappear between buildings.
Lucy sighs. “I want to be her when I grow up.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d planned that far ahead.”
“Maybe I will start that petition now.”
hiii, could you write a Tim Bradford X Grey!reader? She is sergeant grey’s daughter but adopted, so everyone can imagine themselves as they want 💕!
and they have to sneak around because she is “off limits”, also maybe younger than him??
and one day, while they are at her house and they are doing it (idk if you write smut, if you don’t you don’t have to go into details ofc). Wade goes at her house because she was not answering her phone and finds them while she is literally on top of him ??
Not just any man
Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), language, fluff, secret relationship, reader is Grey's adoptive daughter
Word count: 1.722
Authors note: Hey love, thanks for the request! Yes, I do write smut. I hope this fits your expectations! I really appreciate the idea with the reader being adopted, so everyone can imagine the reader as they like!
Enjoy!
There was a lot you had Wade Grey to thank for.
Catching you with your boyfriend wasn't one of those things, though. Especially when your boyfriend was one of his officers and he was older than you.
You were in so much trouble.
It had all began when you met Tim at a charity event hosted at the police station (not the best place for an event like this, as your father later would always like to mention).
It had instantly clicked.
The thrill of doing this behind everyone's back was what excited you the most the first few months - that was, until Tim confessed his feelings to you.
You were deeply in love with each other, and no one would be able to separate you - not even your father, even when he decided to fire Tim, if he ever found out.
When you were a baby, barely a few months old, Wade had adopted you.
Your parents died a few days prior, losing everything, including their lives, when a drug deal went horribly wrong.
You didn't know much about them, but you didn't care. The Grey's were your family, not them.
Family didn't end in blood.
You were a little older than their biological daughter, but you were still your fathers little girl.
Which meant you were off limits - to everyone, including Tim. Not that it would have stopped you, though.
You had to sneak around of course, but someday your parents eventually had to find out - especially if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Tim.
It just wasn't supposed to be that day, especially not like this.
You and Tim had been busy that day, you both had a day off and had been cooking together, went shopping (yes, you did that together, when your parents weren't near), and watched movies.
All that time you didn't look at your phone, though - missing several calls from your father.
Now, you were very busy with Tim, as he placed kisses down your neck, making you shiver in delight.
Your naked body's pressed together, his fingers brushing over the curves of your breasts, wandering further down.
Your fingers touched him wherever they reached - his muscular chest, his back and his arms, brushing through his short hair as his fingers pleasured you.
His lips found yours, muffling a moan, as his fingers went in and out of your tight pussy, his palm brushing your clit in the process, sending shivers up your body.
You loved every second of it.
You loved the way he always took care of you, the way he took his sweet time.
The knot in your stomach tightened, as he quickened the pace of his fingers. Gasping his name your fingers dug into his shoulders, his lips ghosting over your neck, as his thumb drew figure eights on your clit.
With a few last strokes you came, moaning his name, pure bliss pulsing through you, blinding you momentarily. You rode out your high on his fingers, before he removed them, smirking down at you as you gasped for air.
He was breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes that shined like the stars at night, full of love. His face, his lips and his hair - he was perfect the way he was.
And he was all yours.
His lips found yours again and he stroked himself, before he aligned his dick with your entrance.
Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you out in just the right way, the initial pain quickly fading into a feeling that was so much better.
When he was fully settled, he started to move, not giving you much time to adjust.
A throaty moan passed your lips, as his hands gripped your hips to steady himself. You fell into a steady rhythm, the familiar knot in your belly already forming again.
"Fuck." he breathed, one of his hands finding your breast, pinching your nipple. Moaning loudly your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper.
He thrust into you vigorously, your moans mixing together. But you wanted a change in position.
Pushing him back you sat up, his brows furrowing in confusion. You pushed him onto his back, causing him to chuckle knowingly, as he realized what you were doing.
Smirking, you straddled him, not wasting any time to sink down on him again. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, steadying you.
“Oh fuck…” His moan was like music to your ears, raw and unfiltered, as you started to move, up and down and up and down.
Skin slapped on skin, as he gripped your ass, helping you in your movement, when he suddenly stiffened, pulling you into his arms to cover you up.
"Tim wha-" you wanted to ask what happened, when you heard it.
"You better be kidding me!"
Flinching, your head snapped in the direction of your father's voice, body pressed against Tim, as your eyes widened.
"What the hell?" you yelled, your father's back turned towards you, one hand on his pistol.
"What the fuck?" Tim cut in. "What the hell is he doing here?"
"What the hell am I doing here?" your father bellowed, as you climbed off Tim, frantically searching for your clothes. "What the hell am I doing in my daughter's house? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
He shouted - never a good sign.
Tim searched for the right words, not sure how to explain, as you threw his shirt at him.
When you were both fully clothed your father had already left the bedroom, pacing in your living room.
Walking towards him you tried to come up with an explanation. It would have been useless to lie, so you decided to confront him with the truth.
"We're together." you spoke, swallowing. Fast and painless - just rip the bandaid off in one move.
Your gaze fixed on your father who so suddenly stopped, you thought time had paused for a second.
"You are what?" he yelled, anger clear as day on his face, a vein on his neck popping out. Tim stood somewhere behind you, not daring to say anything.
After all he was still his boss.
"We. Are. Together." you repeated word after word. "We are in a relationship. We love each other."
Your father's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, as he stared at you, mouth agape.
How we're you to explain, if he suddenly had a heart attack?
"You of all people!" he spoke angrily, pointing at Tim and you stood in front of him, blocking his way as your father took a step closer. Giving him a pointed look, he fell silent.
"Dad, I'm not thirteen anymore!" you tried to reason, shaking your head at him. "Im twenty-six! You don't have to protect me from men - and you definitely don't have the right to tell me who I date and who I don't!"
Blinking rapidly he tried to process your words.
"But-" he started, irritation clear on his face. "Y/N, you're my daughter! I told them you're off limits!"
Furrowing your brows you looked at him in disbelieve. "You did what?" you almost shouted. "God, you're so embarrassing!" His eyes were wide. "I am embarrassing? Seeing my daughter naked with a man - that is embarrassing!"
Your cheeks flushed, not wanting to be reminded of that, as you looked away.
Sighing he tried to find the right words, only making unintelligible sounds, though. "I can decide on my own who I want to be with, dad." you explained, brushing away a lose strand of hair.
"But-" he tried again, brows furrowed in sadness, and your heart grew heavy. "You're my daughter, my little girl! I can't just hand you off to any random guy!"
"What?" Tim interrupted, stepping forward. Rolling his eyes your father shook his head, fully knowing he could trust Tim Bradford.
If anyone, it was him.
It grew quiet, as you bit your lip, nervousness washing over you in waves. Would he fire Tim? Destroy his entire career just because he loved his daughter?
He sighed heavily, wiping over his face with his hand.
"Look, you didn't answer your phone all day so I got worried - and then I find you with him!" he explained, briefly pointing at Tim, who grabbed your hand, not letting go even as your father's jaw clenched at the sight.
"I'm not ready to hand you off just yet."
Closing your eyes for a moment you took a deep breath. "Sarge, I love your daughter and I want to be with her." Tim started, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
It would all be good.
"I'm not willing to give her up, just because you can't let go."
Your father's brows rose at the bluntness of his words, but he kept quiet, chewing on his cheek as he thought.
"What if you break her heart?" he wanted to know after a while, tilting his head. "Won't happen." Tim returned without a moment's hesitation.
You couldn't help but smile at his words. You loved him with all your heart and you knew he did the same.
Your father swallowed, nodding after a while, eyes glistening. "If you just so much as look at her in the wrong way, I will make the rest of your life a living hell." he swore Tim, huffing at his emotions taking over.
Letting go of Tim's hand you walked to your father, hugging him in relief. He returned the hug, his arms the same shelter as when you were just a small child.
"Thank you." you whispered, happy tears filling your eyes. "When he hurts you, just tell me and I'll get rid of him." he offered, letting go of you.
Judging by Tim's huff he heard his words, but you were sure he did it intentionally.
"I love you, dad." He smiled down at you, the emotions still clear on his distraught face. "I love you too, kiddo."
Rolling your eyes you hugged him again, before letting go and walking towards Tim.
Smiling up at him you took his hand back in yours. It would all be good. He returned the smile, still a little hesitant because of your father's presence.
Standing on your tip toes you kissed him, causing your father to immediately protest.
"No!"
Summary: After Jacob’s Trial everything had changed for Andy Barber. He lost his wife, he almost lost his job and his son. Nothing seemed right in his life. Nothing but YOU.
Word Count: 16,090 (Sorry kids, it’s a long one.)
Warnings: Some Spoilers from Defending Jacob. Mentions of a car accident. Interoffice Romance. Brief mentions of a murder. unprotected sex, Multiple Point of Views. Boss|Assistant dynamic. Cursing. Mentions of cheating. Divorce. Mentions of being in the hospital. Laurie being a bitch. Neal being an asshole. Angry|Andy. pet names. Over protective Andy. Marking!Kink. Having a crush on your boss. Idiots in love with each other. keeping secrets. Mentions of Drinking. Self Doubt. Dirty Talk. Very Brief Hand job (if you squint.). fingering. Oral (f). edging (if you squint.). Consensual Sex. Regret. Second thoughts. Jealous Neal. Slightly possessive Andy. Brief Mention of Andy Getting Himself Off. Teasing. Mentions of Spanking. Mentions of mental health. Bipolar disorder. borderline personality disorder. Over protective Dad!Andy. Guilt about feeling happy. Toxic misogynistic male behavior. Some Ex-Wife Drama. Getting punched in the face.(PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING)
A|N: Hello! Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who reads this and or any of my stories. I hope you enjoy. please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Also I apologize for the length of this one I kind of got carried away. :) enjoy friends. (Pics for the moodboard came from pinterest. I do not own.)
“Assistant District Attorney; Andy Barber?” a voice from behind you calls. You turn around to see a tall gentleman standing there behind you. There was silence for a minute before you spoke. “Mr. Logiudice, Mr. Barber is in a meeting with the DA.” you say, a firm tone in your voice. He smirked. Like you had just said something funny. Which you had not. “Doll, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Neal.” he stepped towards you.. The door to Andy’s Office swings open. Thank god. You exhale. “Leave her alone Neal, how many times do I have to TELL you…” Andy turns and gives you a flirty wink and nod. You couldn’t help but blush. You sit back behind your desk. Neal sighs, rolling his eyes. “Besides Neal, you’re not her type anyways.” he shoots a blue eyed gaze your way and you practically melt into your chair, biting your lip.
You weren’t going to lie. You had a crush on the ADA… who didn’t? He was incredibly gorgeous, smart, powerful and sweet as hell, but don’t fuck with him. He didn’t take shit from anyone and everyone knew it. You’d been ADA Barber’s assistant for five years and well it had been a rough last couple of years for him, especially with his son’s trial, and the aftermath of it, his father, through getting divorced from his wife, the accident, the long nights spent at the hospital with Jacob in a coma. It had been a pretty fucked up time for Andy to put it midly. But through everything you always stuck by him, no matter what he needed you were there for him; you’d developed a pretty close friendship. and he never forgot what you’d done for him.
Keep reading
Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader
Word count - 6,179
Warnings - kidnapping, drugging, talks of malnourishment, sad Tim hours, angst, fluff, inaccurate medical scenes, swearing
Summary - after being missing for years, you and Tim are finally reunited
A/N - hey y'all! this was an idea suggested to me by @scarletstarrs so I hope I did your idea justice because I loved exploring this idea so much (and all the angst that came with it). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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When Lucy entered the station, ready for the morning roll call, she was both shocked and confused to find Tim Bradford missing from the building. Other than being forced to take leave after being shot, Tim had always shown up to work no matter what.
“Hey, have you seen Tim?” Lucy asks, sitting down in between Jackson and Nolan who both shrug, shaking their heads. Before the three could begin theorising about where Lucy’s training officer had gone, Sergeant Grey stepped up to the podium and began to talk, detailing what was going to be happening during the day. Just before he sends everyone off to start the day, he addresses Lucy.
“Officer Chen, you’ll be riding with me today. Dismissed.” Grey says, his dismissal causing everyone to stand up and make their way out of the room to start their day. As Grey begins to exit, Lucy follows after him.
“Sergeant Grey, while it’s an honour to ride with you today. Where’s Officer Bradford?” Lucy asks, trying her best to sound respectful while enquiring about where Tim is.
“Officer Bradford is taking a personal day,” Grey replies simply, gesturing for Lucy to go and get the war bags to load the shop. At Grey’s gesture, Lucy began to make her way to get the bags, silently wondering to herself why Tim had taken a personal day and whether he was okay.
Across LA, Tim was sitting at home. He had barely had the energy to move out of bed when he woke up but he had managed to drag himself over to the sofa after making sure Kojo had his breakfast. Kojo, while not having lived with Tim long, had picked up on Tim’s melancholy mood and curled up next to him, whining softly as Tim studied a picture on his phone. Tim let out a soft sigh, tears filling his eyes as he studied the picture, a picture of him and you, his wife, on your wedding day. He was embracing you happily, lips pressed to yours.
“I miss you so much,” Tim whispers, unable to remove his gaze from the image of you. You had gone missing three years ago to the day, and Tim could never forgive himself for it. At Tim’s whisper, Kojo shuffled around, resting his head on Tim’s lap, sensing Tim’s pain. Kojo’s movement briefly pulled Tim’s attention away from his phone.
“I’m sorry buddy,” Tim says softly, stroking the top of Kojo’s head. Since you had been taken, Tim had consistently taken a personal day on the date you were taken with each passing year you remained missing. Most detectives involved in your case had told Tim that it was time to give up. The chances were high that whoever had taken you had killed you and had moved on. But Tim wouldn’t just give up on you. He couldn’t. Deep down he knew you were still out there somewhere, and he needed to find you. As Tim continued to swipe through the album of photos he had of you and him, Kojo began to paw at his leg slightly, as if trying to drag him out of his slump.
“I know. Come on, I’ll take you for a walk.” Tim says, knowing that keeping Kojo inside because of his upset would just not be worth it. Tim manages to get up from the sofa, shower and change before grabbing Kojo’s lead. As he left the house with Kojo trotting along by his side, he was silently grateful for the dog’s presence in his life. Before Kojo came around, Tim just wallowed in his house, hiding away from the world when he missed you too much. But now he had someone relying on him, and he couldn’t let Kojo down. After reaching the park, Tim let Kojo off the lead so he could explore while he sat on a bench. As he watched Kojo, he couldn’t help but imagine you sat by his side. You had always wanted to get a dog since long before marrying Tim and he had always put it off, claiming he wanted to wait. He felt so guilty for owning Kojo while you were missing but he knew that when he found you, you’d love Kojo and you’d so quickly become his new favourite person.
After a while, Tim whistled for Kojo to come back over so they could walk back home and as they made their way home, Tim’s phone buzzed, alerting him that he had a message but he opted to wait until he was home to see what it was. When he finally made it home, Tim collapsed onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to see a text from Angela.
‘How are you?’
That simple message was enough to bring the smallest of smiles to Tim’s face. Angela had been Tim’s entire support system since the day you went missing. She had checked in with him regularly and was someone to lean on during his bad days. When she had been promoted to detective, Angela had promised Tim she would do what she could to try and pick up any leads in your missing persons case. Tim had been so grateful for Angela’s support over the last few years, she was the person he needed to help him navigate your absence in his life.
‘Could be better.’
Tim could never lie to Angela. She had ways to see right through him, even over text so he knew there was no point even attempting to act like he was feeling okay on a day like this.
‘Do you want to come over? Have some company?’
Angela’s offer of company was not unusual, although the last few times Angela had asked if he wanted her to come over after her shift had finished, but now with her on maternity leave, both she and Tim had a whole day to console each other.
‘That would be nice. I’ll be over in a few.’
Tim types out and sends his response, once again forcing himself up from the sofa and petting Kojo, promising him he’d be back soon before grabbing the keys to his truck and making his way to Angela’s house.
When he arrived he barely even knocked on the door before Angela opened it, a soft gentle smile on her face as she took in Tim’s appearance. It was obvious to her that he hadn’t slept well the night before but she couldn’t blame him. If Wesley had gone missing she knows she’d be absolutely beside herself with worry and anticipatory grief.
“Come and sit down,” Angela says softly, resting a hand on Tim’s back and guiding him to the sofa, easing herself down alongside him, her gentle hand never leaving his back as she moves it up to rub his shoulder lightly. For a few minutes, the two of them sit in silence before Tim lets out a shuddering breath.
“I miss her so much.” Tim manages to say, his voice choking as tears begin to well in his eyes.
“I know, Tim,” Angela says sympathetically, her hand continuing to rub soothing circles on his shoulder in an attempt to keep his breathing steady.
“It hurts.” Tim manages to say, hand hovering near his heart, swearing he could feel his heart pounding louder and stronger with each second.
“I can’t imagine the pain. But I’m here for you. You’re not alone.” Angela says softly, feeling her heart break more and more at Tim’s broken state. She was the only person who got to see this side of Tim in these moments and it made her more and more determined to find you. After a few moments of comforting whispers from Angela and teary sniffles from Tim, he turned to face her, eyes still shining with unshed tears.
“Do you think we’ll even find her alive?” Tim asked, uncharacteristically pessimistic about your case, making Angela shocked.
“She’s got to be out there somewhere. And we’ll find her.” Angela says, pulling Tim into a careful hug.
“It’s my fault she’s gone,” Tim mutters against her shoulder, a confession no one had heard from him before.
“Don’t say that. You’re not to blame.” Angela says, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes as he shakes his head.
“I am.” Tim insists, his right hand moving to fiddle with his wedding ring, a movement Angela didn’t miss. She knew he would take the ring off when he was on duty, but when he was off duty it would be restored to its rightful place and he’d often find himself twisting it around on his finger out of habit.
“Why do you say it’s your fault?” Angela asks tenderly, hoping she’d be able to help Tim realise that it wasn’t his fault.
“We had an argument that night. A stupid one at that, I can’t even remember what it was about, maybe about chores or something? But y/n got pissed at me and she said she needed to go on a walk to clear her head. I was pissed too and the moment she left I just decided to go to bed. I was too angry to do anything else. If I had gone after her none of this would’ve happened. She’d still be here with me.” Tim whispers, feeling like his throat is closing more tears welling in his eyes as he relives that night.
“Where are you going?” Tim asks, pausing his angry pacing to glare at you from across the room.
“For a walk. I can’t be around you right now.” You reply, your voice just as venomous as his as you grab your keys, reaching for the door handle.
“Fine.” Tim spits angrily, turning on his heel and stalking off again as you open the door, exiting and angrily closing the door behind you while Tim storms to the kitchen, grabbing himself a beer from the fridge.
After a couple of beers, Tim decided it wasn’t worth staying up waiting for you any longer. You had taken your keys and he knew you’d come back whenever you were ready to so he took himself to bed, practically passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Tim woke up and found your side of the bed still empty, and when he reached across to search for any remaining body heat, he found that your side was still cold, like no one had slept in it all night. Figuring you had spent the night on the sofa, Tim sat up and got himself out of bed, all anger from the night before gone.
“Hey, Baby, I’m sorry about last night.” Tim enters the living room, rubbing his eyes as he enters, stopping in his tracks when he realises you’re not in the room, nor was there any evidence you had even slept on the sofa. At the sight of the empty room, and your keys still missing from the key bowl, Tim felt his stomach turning with anxiety. He just knew something bad had happened to you. You wouldn’t just go silent on him or not come home at all.
After trying to call your phone and getting no answers, Tim knew he had to file a missing persons case when he got to work. He wasn’t going to rest until he found you.
“Tim, listen to me. It is not your fault. You couldn’t have known. Neither of you could’ve known there would be a psycho out there. You can’t blame yourself for something you never could’ve anticipated.” Angela says softly, her voice shaking Tim from his thoughts. She could imagine the guilt Tim was feeling, but she knew it wasn’t his fault.
“It is. If I had just-”
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. There’s nothing you could’ve done. I know just as well as you that y/n is stubborn as anything, so if she wanted to go and get some air after your argument then she would’ve done it regardless. You can’t predict the future and y/n wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” Angela says, her voice was soft yet firm so she can get her point across to Tim. She knew Tim had a habit of blaming himself for things out of his control but she had no idea that he had carried guilt from your disappearance silently and had been beating himself up about it for so long.
“I just need to find her. I need her safe and home with me. I didn’t even tell her I loved her the last time I saw her.” Tim says, fiercely wiping at his eyes to stop any tears from falling.
“I’m working with detectives to pick up the dead ends from y/n’s case. One of them will lead us somewhere I’m sure. Between you and me, working y/n’s case is the only work Wesley is okay with me doing while on maternity leave. He knows how important it is to us and he’s promised me that if we catch the asshole he’d ensure he spends the rest of his life behind bars.” Angela says reassuringly, wanting to help restore Tim’s faith in finding you.
“Thank you, Angela,” Tim says quietly with a nod. With the topic seeming to be at an end, Angela decides to change the subject and while Tim had always jokingly complained about helping Angela with wedding planning, he was more than happy to do so on this day. While he helped Angela plan various parts of her wedding, he couldn’t help but think about the time he had spent planning his wedding with you.
“Tim, we can’t seat my uncle next to your brother-in-law!” You exclaimed with a laugh, curling further into Tim’s side as he wrapped his arm around you, chuckling lightly to himself, both of you focusing on the seating chart Tim had drafted.
“Sure we can. It would be hilarious.” Tim says, squeezing you closer, his hand winding around your waist.
“You want our wedding to result in a fistfight?” You say, an amused tone to your voice as you raise an eyebrow.
“Mmm, might not be the best idea then,” Tim murmurs, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek.
“The best idea is to make sure they stay as far away from each other as possible.” You muse, unable to stop the smile covering your face as Tim continued to press kisses to your cheek.
“We’ll figure it out.”
By the end of the day, Tim had spent most of his time at Angela’s house and he had been beyond grateful for her company and her willingness to help him through a day like this. When Wesley got home, Tim decided that was when he should be heading home himself, knowing Kojo was probably waiting for him.
“I’ll see you around,” Tim says quietly, giving Angela a gentle hug, pulling away and giving Wesley a friendly nod before making his way out of their house, heading to his truck to head home. Unbeknownst to Tim, the moment he left, Angela’s phone buzzed and when she read the text she knew she had to step into work again. Whether Wesley liked it or not.
The next morning, Angela made her way to the hospital, meeting with other detectives once she got there before being led to a room that had a girl inside. Angela figured she couldn’t be any older than her early twenties. After getting a quick brief from the other detectives, Angela made her way into the room, smiling softly to let her know she wasn’t a threat.
“Hi, Bella. I’m Detective Lopez, but you can just call me Angela.” Angela introduces herself, easing herself down onto one of the hospital room chairs as Bella eyes her carefully. Angela could tell that the last thing Bella wanted was to be questioned but it was protocol, whether she liked it or not.
“I promise I’ll make this quick, just tell me what happened,” Angela assures, pulling out her notepad and pen.
“A few months ago, some guy grabbed me off the street while I was making my way home. He kept calling me ‘Samantha’ the whole time. No matter how many times I told him my name was Bella he just ignored it.” Bella explains, tears welling in her eyes as her arms wound around her middle.
“Can you describe this man? And where he was keeping you?” Angela asks carefully, making notes on her notepad as Bella nods.
“He looked like he was in his forties, his hair was greying and he had a huge burn scar on his right arm, like all up it. He was keeping us in the woods. It sounds really cliche now that I say it out loud. He’d moved us around a bit before he found this old abandoned cabin on the outskirts of the city. He managed to get power and water so he figured we could just stay out there, like some delusional family or something.” Bella says, and Angela immediately picks up on her choice of words.
“I’m sorry, you said ‘us’. Was there someone else?” Angela enquires, glancing up from her notebook.
“Yeah, there was another woman, she might’ve been in her thirties? The guy kept calling her ‘Vivian’ but I’m guessing that wasn’t her name.” Bella explains with a nod while Angela pulls her phone out of her pocket, hurriedly scrolling through it and finding a picture with you in.
“This other woman. Did she look like this?” Angela flips the phone around, showing Bella the picture, watching as her eyes widen in recognition.
“Yes! That’s her!” Bella exclaims, looking over at Angela.
“She’s alive,” Angela mutters to herself, unable to believe the news.
“Do you know her?” Bella asks, noticing Angela’s reaction and how hurriedly she was typing into her phone.
“She’s a friend of mine. She’s been missing for a while.” Angela says, tucking her phone away as she talks.
“She’s the one who helped me escape. She saw the opportunity and she encouraged me to go for it.” Bella says, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.
“That sounds like y/n. She always looked out for others.” Angela says with fondness, remembering how you had always put others above yourself.
“I want to help her,” Bella says, a strong, newfound determination in her voice.
“Can you recall where the cabin was? If you can that would help us track her down.” Angela asks, listening carefully as Bella explains all the details she can remember of her escape from that cabin. After getting as many details as Bella could remember, Angela excused herself, exiting the room and immediately calling Grey on her way out, informing him of everything and letting him know that he and the LAPD needed to act fast before you were moved again.
Back at the Mid-Wilshire police station, police officers were starting to prepare for an operation on the outskirts of Los Angeles just as Lucy and Tim entered, ushering their recent arrest to be processed. They quickly became aware of the atmosphere around them so while Lucy was processing the arrest, Tim stepped out to find Grey.
“What’s going on?” Tim asks after tracking down Grey.
“I’m getting some people together for an operation. But I need you and Officer Chen to stay on patrol.” Grey says, gathering his war bags and barely glancing Tim’s way.
“I want to help,” Tim says, confused as to why Grey isn’t letting him get involved with an operation, not when he had as much experience as he did.
“This isn’t a matter to discuss Officer Bradford. You’re one of my best patrol officers and I need you out on the streets with Officer Chen while we do this. Is that understood?” Grey asserts, facing Tim and staring him down as Tim straightens up.
“Understood, Sir,” Tim says, feeling his heart sink at not getting to be involved with an operation.
“You’ll get in on the next operation,” Grey says, clapping Tim on the shoulder quickly before making his way towards his shop, leaving Tim to head back to Lucy, finding her after she had just finished processing their arrest.
“Hey, did you find out what everyone’s doing?” Lucy asks, looking up at Tim curiously.
“There’s an operation going down. I don’t know what it’s for but Grey wants us on patrol.” Tim says with a shrug, beginning to turn on his heel and make his way towards their shop, annoyance evident in in his body language.
“Do they know this would be a great learning opportunity for me? I want to get as much experience in operations as possible. Why aren’t they letting us help?” Lucy asks, following behind Tim.
“I don’t know, Boot. But it’s not my place to challenge Sergeant Grey’s orders.” Tim says firmly, glancing over his shoulder at Lucy who nods, still obviously upset about not getting to help with an operation while she’s still in training.
“Come on, get in. We’ve got a patrol to finish.” Tim then says with a shrug, both of them reaching the shop and getting in, ready to continue their patrol.
After a couple of hours of patrolling, Tim and Lucy had stopped to grab some coffee and while they stood outside their shop, talking and sipping at their drinks, Tim’s phone rang, making his eyebrows furrow when he saw Angela’s name displayed across his screen.
“Angela.” Tim greets as the phone reaches his ear.
“Tim, you need to get your ass to the hospital right now,” Angela says, making Tim raise an eyebrow before he thinks of a reason why she’d be asking him to come to the hospital.
“Are you having the baby already?” Tim asks, a panicked expression crossing his face.
“What? No. Look, just come to Shaw Memorial as soon as you can.” Angela says, an urgency in her voice that Tim hasn’t heard in a while.
“Okay, I’ll head over now.” Tim concedes, bidding Angela goodbye before hanging up the phone and shoving it away in his pocket.
“We’re going to the hospital. And no Angela is not giving birth.” Tim says, able to predict what Lucy was about to ask from a single look.
“Then why are we going to the hospital?” Lucy then questions, both of them getting into their seats just before Tim starts the drive to the hospital.
“No idea. Maybe one of my C.I’s ended up in hospital and they wanted to talk to me.” Tim says, shrugging lightly, wondering to himself why it was Angela had summoned him to the hospital when she’s not supposed to be working. The closer they get to the hospital, the more Tim starts to suspect that it has something to do with you. Angela had assured him that the only case she was working while on maternity leave was yours. But as he parked in the car park for the hospital, he started to picture the worst possible case scenario as he bursts through the hospital, tracking down Angela within minutes, practically leaving Lucy behind.
“What’s happened?” Tim asks, studying Angela’s expression carefully as she grabs his wrist leading him to a nearby hospital room and letting him look through the window. At the sight, tears immediately began to well in his eyes, stepping forward slightly towards the door before Angela stopped him.
“The doctors are working on her now. They’ll get you when she’s stable. I just wanted to show you that we found her.” Angela explains softly, watching as Tim refuses to tear his gaze away from the window.
“She’s alive,” Tim whispers, tears in his eyes as he watches the doctors hooking you up to an IV drip and heart monitors.
“She is. We found her.” Angela says softly, carefully guiding Tim back to the waiting room and helping him ease himself into a chair just as Lucy finally found the pair.
“What the hell? Why did you leave me behind?” Lucy demands, approaching Tim who barely processes her words, his gaze locked on the floor in front of him as his knee bounces impatiently.
“Not now, Lucy,” Angela says, holding a hand out towards Lucy to silence her while her other hand rests on Tim’s shoulder, squeezing it softly.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Lucy then asks, noticing the unusual behaviour Tim was exhibiting and how Angela was protecting him fiercely.
“We’ll tell you later,” Angela says, knowing that with the state Tim was in, she shouldn’t go spilling his personal life.
After half an hour of waiting, a doctor approached Angela since they only recognised her but she made sure to bring Tim into the conversation as well as make sure the doctors knew he was your husband so that he would make any and all medical decisions that you couldn’t make.
“y/n had been drugged upon being found, I assume something that was something done so that the perpetrator could move her without the risk of her running away. She’s also showing clear signs of dehydration and malnourishment so we’ve got her on IVs to give her what her body needs. She’s still asleep but would you like to see her?” The doctor explains, glancing at the tablet in his hand before looking at Tim who nods. The doctor gestures for Tim to follow him to your room but before he leaves he turns to Angela.
“Message me if you need me,” Angela says softly, watching as he nods once more before following the doctor and being granted access to your room. As soon as he enters the room, he grabs a chair and pulls it up along your bedside, one hand taking your hand in his while his other hand runs through your hair.
“I’m here, Baby. I’m so sorry. I love you.” Tim says, repeating the three sentences like a mantra as he squeezes your hand softly. He felt more tears welling in his eyes as he took in your form. Your cheeks were hollowed and you had dark circles under your eyes. The more Tim watched you as you slept, the worse his guilt got. He couldn’t help but hate himself more and more for letting you leave the house that night. As the day progressed, Tim found himself uncharacteristically talkative with you, rambling about everything you had missed.
“I’ve got a new rookie. Her name’s Lucy Chen. You’d like her a lot actually. She reminds me of you in a way.” Tim says, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand as he talks. He knew you and Lucy would get on well. After all, Lucy was someone who was unafraid to speak her mind around Tim and you’d admire her fire. By the time night fell, Tim was sure he’d covered everything that had happened since you had gone missing. He felt a yawn slip past his lips which made him attempt to shake the sleepiness off. He didn’t want to fall asleep and then risk waking up to find out that this had been a dream. He couldn’t bare to wake up to find you missing again. However, as the night progressed, Tim got more and more tired and he began to struggle to keep his eyes open so he laid his head down on your bed, making sure he was facing up at you, keeping your hand in his the whole time before letting his eyes slip closed, hoping this wasn’t all a dream.
You woke up slowly in the early hours of the morning and as you slowly open your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile tearily when you recognised the sleeping face of your husband. The face you had dreamed of seeing for years. You watched Tim quietly for a moment, admiring the man you loved so much before your need to talk to him overtook you and you squeezed his hand softly, rousing him almost instantly. His eyes blinked open and you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
“Hey, Tim.” You whisper softly, your voice slightly hoarse from lack of use. Tim couldn’t even bring himself to talk, he just squeezed your hand, tears welling in his own eyes.
“You’ve grown your hair out a bit.” You observe quietly, gently extracting your hand from his to run your hand through his hair, having been used to his shorter haircut for too long.
“You like it?” Tim asks with a teary laugh.
“I love it. I did always tell you it would look nicer if you grew it out a little.” You muse softly, enjoying the feeling of running your hand through his hair with the slight added length. As another tear rolls down your cheek, Tim reaches out and wipes it away, his touch as soft and as gentle as you remembered it.
“I’m so sorry, Baby. I let you down.” Tim apologises, his hand lingering on your cheek as you lean into his touch, desperately craving the love and comfort only Tim could provide you with.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who left that night.” You say, slowly retracting your hand from Tim’s hair, returning it to your lap as Tim shakes his head.
“I should’ve stopped you.” Tim argues, making you shake your head in response.
“You couldn’t have known, Tim. Look, let’s not argue. We haven’t seen each other in years I don’t want to ruin this by arguing. It’s no ones fault but the ass who took me.” You say, your voice soft yet firm as Tim nods lightly in understanding.
“I missed you so much.” Tim then whispers, his face displaying every emotion he was feeling in the moment.
“I missed you too.” You reply softly. Glad you were reunited with your husband again.
After a few days stay in hospital, you had finally been cleared to go home which you were excited for. Your days in the hospital were mostly spent talking to lawyers and detectives to get all the evidence needed for the case against your kidnapper. But Tim had all but refused to leave your side through it all, and some of your friends came to visit you after news had spread that you had been found. You even got to meet Tim’s newest rookie, Lucy, who like Tim predicted, you got on brilliantly with. And while you had appreciated people wanting to visit you, and that the detectives and lawyers wanted to get that guy behind bars as soon as possible. But you just wanted to go home, to spend some time with Tim in the comfort of your own house, as well as getting to know the family member you had missed the arrival of. When Tim had told you about Kojo, he had not missed the way your eyes lit up and he knew it was going to be love at first sight for both you and Kojo. After all the paperwork had been sorted and Tim had brought you a comfy change of clothes from home, you finally headed out to Tim’s truck, letting him help you into the vehicle and settling in to the passenger seat.
The drive back to yours and Tim’s shared house was relatively silent, you listened to what was on the radio and occasionally chatted with Tim until he pulled into the driveway. You waited upon Tim’s orders for him to round the truck and open the door for you, helping you out carefully before leading you to the front door.
“Are you ready?” Tim asks softly, hand interlocked with yours as you both stand in front of the door, staring it down before you nod lightly, giving Tim the sign he needed to unlock the front door, easing it open and ushering both you and him inside, quickly coming face to face with Kojo.
“Hey, you must be Kojo. Tim’s told me all about you. I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself to the dog, watching his reaction carefully as he approaches you, sniffing at your outstretched hand for a few seconds before gently licking your hand and allowing you to pet him.
“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest boy?” You praise, petting Kojo happily while Tim jokingly rolls his eyes.
“It took less than a minute for me to be replaced by the dog.” Tim jokes, making his way into the kitchen to grab some drinks and by the time he returned, you had curled up on the sofa with Kojo and Tim couldn’t help but smile at the sight of having you home again. After placing the drinks on the coffee table, Tim sat down on your other side and wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you into him and pressing multiple kisses to the side of your head as you smile softly, cherishing the attention and love Tim was giving you.
By the time night fell, you were ready to crash and Tim knew it. He chose to carry you to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed and finding one of his old police academy shirts he knew you loved to wear and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, handing them to you before turning around to get changed himself. When you were both ready for bed, you climbed under the covers while Kojo curled up at the foot of the bed. You instantly curled into Tim’s side, burying your face in his chest.
“I’ve missed this so much.” You mumbled, smiling to yourself when Tim tightens his grip around your waist.
“Me too. I love you so much.” Tim whispers, kissing the top of your head before you tipped your head up so Tim could press the softest of kisses upon your lips.
“I love you too.” You reply softly, eyes full of love as you look up at Tim before curling back into him, quickly falling asleep in his arms the way you had been dreaming off the past few years.
In the middle of the night, Tim stirred, aware of the way the two of you had shifted throughout the night. You were now lying with your back to Tim and his arm was wrapped around your middle but he quickly withdrew it when he noticed you twitching and crying in your sleep. He instantly knew you were having a nightmare so he flicked his bedside lamp on and reached out to gently rouse you, placing his hand on your shoulder and calling your name softly until you bolted upright, eyes wide open and tears staining your cheeks.
“y/n. Baby. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” Tim says softly, his hand reaching down to hold yours, his actions only stopping when you practically curled into him instantly, changing his action from holding your hand to holding your sobbing, shaking form instead. Tim continued to reassure you and comfort you quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your back while Kojo rested his head on your leg, whining softly in his own way to comfort you. Tim then began to coach you through slowing your breathing, using techniques you had used when he suffered with nightmares and when you began to calm down, he began to wipe your tears away.
“I thought I was really back in that cabin.” You admit with a sniffle, making Tim hold you closer, taking your hand in his and placing it above his heart.
“You feel that? I’m here and so are you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.” Tim promises quietly as you focus on the steady thumping of his heartbeat while your other hand reached down to pet Kojo softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologise, pulling away with your eyes still shining with tears as Tim shakes his head.
“Don’t apologise. I’m going to be here for you when you need me to. I’m your husband and after what you went through I’d be a shit excuse of a husband if I did anything but look after you when you needed me. Don’t ever apologise for having a nightmare. I love you and I’m going to help you through this.” Tim says, pulling you back into his arms and feeling you settle your head perfectly above his heart so you could focus on his heartbeat once again.
“I love you too.” You mumble, soothed by Tim’s repeated action of running his hand up and down your back as well as his melodic heartbeat and soon your eyes slipped closed again. In the arms of the love of your life and feeling safe for the first time in years.
Tim watched you sleep peacefully for a few minutes, just to make sure no nightmares tried to attack you again as you slept but after not as much as a twitch, Tim switched his lamp off and cuddled you closer as he let himself drift off to sleep. You were finally back where you belonged. And Tim wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you again.
literally JUST read your i bet on losing dogs fic and i was wondering if roy ever brings up the fact that black!batsis paid for his rehab? like is he upset with her or just wants answers as to why? i can imagine it leaves him conflicted for a bit…
@flyestvenustrap I finally got to it! part two of this
Roy was having trouble sleeping. Who knows how many hours had passed since he and Y/N laid down to sleep but he just couldn't fall asleep. His mind was only focused on what Oliver said during dinner. Part of him wanted to just dismiss it but the other part wanted to know if it was true. He felt Y/N stir next to him. Her eyes squinted at him as she realized that he was still awake.
"I don't want to fight," He said as he adjusted her slipping bonnet.
"So we won't," She said snuggling closer into his arms. Roy rubbed her baby bump before sighing.
"Oliver said something the other night, and I need you to be honest with me," Roy knew he wanted to tread lightly. The last thing he wanted was to get Y/N worked up, and pregnancy anger was no joke.
"Okay," She said, sitting up in the bed.
"Did you pay for my rehab all those times?" He spoke while still lying down. His hands were rested behind his head.
"Oliver paid the first time. He treated like some miracle program, but let's be honest, we both know it's more difficult than that. Every time after that, I paid." She admitted quietly. The only other person who knew she had paid for his rehab was Bruce, or at least that's what she thought.
"But you were what? Nineteen?" The small age gap between them lingered in his mind at times. He had so much baggage that he often wondered why she chose him to be with.
"Yeah," She spoke shyly.
"Why? We weren't even dating back then," He looked at her, realizing what their relationship was like.
"I didn't wanna give up on you." Y/N wouldn't say she loved him back then, but she cared for him as more than a friend. He was there for her when her brothers couldn't be, and she knew that he was a good person. That was enough for her.
"Don't cry, baby. I'm not upset, I promise. How come you never told me?" He sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled before continuing.
"I was so happy when you came back and you had Lian. You had to adjust to being sober and being a father. I didn't want you to think you owed me anything. Whether it be a relationship or money," She admitted. She kept her distance for a year until Roy found her after he came back from where he disappeared to.
"I love you more than you'll ever know," He spoke, pulling her closer to him.
"I love you too," She leaned on him and kissed his stubbly cheek.
Roy was having trouble sleeping. Who knows how many hours had passed since he and Y/N laid down to sleep but he just couldn't fall asleep. His mind was only focused on what Oliver said during dinner. Part of him wanted to just dismiss it but the other part wanted to know if it was true. He felt Y/N stir next to him. Her eyes squinted at him as she realized that he was still awake.
"I don't want to fight," He said as he adjusted her slipping bonnet.
"So we won't," She said snuggling closer into his arms. Roy rubbed her baby bump before sighing.
"Oliver said something the other night, and I need you to be honest with me," Roy knew he wanted to tread lightly. The last thing he wanted was to get Y/N worked up, and pregnancy anger was no joke.
"Okay," She said, sitting up in the bed.
"Did you pay for my rehab all those times?" He spoke while still lying down. His hands were rested behind his head.
"Oliver paid the first time. He treated like some miracle program, but let's be honest, we both know it's more difficult than that. Every time after that, I paid." She admitted quietly. The only other person who knew she had paid for his rehab was Bruce, or at least that's what she thought.
"But you were what? Nineteen?" The small age gap between them lingered in his mind at times. He had so much baggage that he often wondered why she chose him to be with.
"Yeah," She spoke shyly.
"Why? We weren't even dating back then," He looked at her, realizing what their relationship was like.
"I didn't wanna give up on you." Y/N wouldn't say she loved him back then, but she cared for him as more than a friend. He was there for her when her brothers couldn't be, and she knew that he was a good person. That was enough for her.
"Don't cry, baby. I'm not upset, I promise. How come you never told me?" He sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled before continuing.
"I was so happy when you came back and you had Lian. You had to adjust to being sober and being a father. I didn't want you to think you owed me anything. Whether it be a relationship or money," She admitted. She kept her distance for a year until Roy found her after he came back from where he disappeared to.
"I love you more than you'll ever know," He spoke, pulling her closer to him.
"I love you too," She leaned on him and kissed his stubbly cheek.
taglist: t: @flyestvenustrap @megamindsecretlair @blxckdesire @animegirlfromvietnam @nupppuff @prettyvintageafternoon @lilbanas @certifiedloverwoman @melissa-ashe @hoyoooo
eddie teaching venom about love languages <33
"Physical touch is," Eddie starts, shoulder bumped up beside yours on the couch, but Venom cuts in, head hovering over Eddie's shoulder.
"That is the one where we fuck her." Venom announces proudly, toothy grin aimed in your direction. You stifle a laugh and Eddie groans, head tosses back against the couch cushions.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's the one where we fuck her," Eddie drawls, exasperated, "But that's also, like, holding hands, kissing, that kind of stuff."
"That one is my favorite." Venom declares, "I do not care about the other ones."
"Yes you do," You counter, and Venom's milky white eyes turn to you again, "'Cause there's gift-giving. That's when I bring you chocolate. And chickens."
"I gave Eddie the gift of a decapitated man once," Venom reminisces, "But he hated it. Does that mean he does not love me?"
"That's not a gift, buddy." Eddie shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the gory memory, "That's- I mean maybe you thought that was a gift, but gifts are supposed to be nice things, like flowers or a teddy bear."
"Teddy bears are useless!" Venom roars, and you know he's only speaking out of deep-seated loathing for your own stuffed animal, which the symbiote is rather jealous of.
"I would much rather receive a head," He huffs, turning back to Eddie, "Does it mean that you do not love me because you do not give me heads to eat?"
"No," Eddie rubs a tired hand over his face, "Let's- let's just move on. Uh, words of affirmation."
"You're so handsome," You croon at Venom, who blinks as you stroke the back of your hand along his goopy cheek, "And you're a great protector, I always feel safe around you."
"See?" Eddie nods, "Just like that. Nice things you say to the person you love."
"You are very small," Venom practices, and while it's true compared to his gargantuan size, it's not much of a compliment, "And I like that you feel safe around me even though I could easily rip your head off. And eat it. You would not stand a chance."
"We'll work on it," Eddie mutters, "Alright, acts of service."
"Like when Eddie gives me a shoulder massage," You hum, stretching out the tense muscles in your neck, "Or when I wash his hair for him in the shower. That's nice things you do for the person you love."
"I am good at that!" Venom boasts, "I make you breakfast sometimes."
"Yeah," Eddie nods, voice strained, and you play along even though you know that the attending to the mess that comes with Venom's cooking is more effort than doing it yourself, "Yeah, buddy, that's good. You're right, that's really nice of you."
"I am very nice," Venom agrees, bobbing his head up and down, "Are there more?"
"Quality time-" You and Eddie speak in unison, laughing sheepishly at each other. It's Eddie that continues, "Like what we're doing now. Sitting together, talking, just hanging out and being with each other."
"When he takes me on dates, too," You chime in, your voice a soft hum, "Or when you take me around the city, big guy."
You tap at Venom's cheek and he nods, blinking once in understanding.
"I like quality time," Venom decides, the thick black ooze connecting his head to Eddie's shoulder sucking him back in until his face is nestled between yours and Eddie's. It's an odd feeling on your hair but you and Eddie hold your positions anyways, intent on drilling non-sexual physical touch into the symbiote.
"Me too," You nod, and Eddie pitches in his confirmation, "Which one is your favorite, V?"
"Mm," The symbiote hums, but it sounds more like the revving engine of a car, "I do not know. I like getting gifts, but I like sitting with you, too. I like them all."
"Too hard to choose," Eddie agrees, "You?"
"More of the same," You conclude, turning your face so that your nose nudges Venom's cheek. He purrs, not unlike a cat, sounding more engine-like than ever, and his large eyes slip shut.
"Naptime," Eddie chimes, reaching over to grab your hand in his. You smile, puckering your lips to send him a kiss that you can't press to his cheek unless you break away from Venom. He pretends to catch it where the symbiote can't see, slapping it onto his cheek and acting injured at the recoil.
"Oh," He groans while you giggle, "You throw a mean kiss."
You settle against Eddie's side, and it's odd having Venom's face in between you to where you can't rest on the man's shoulder, but he's a nice pillow in and of himself. You're only seconds away from fully drifting off to sleep when Venom's jaw moves against your face, and he whispers (terribly), "Eddie. Are you awake?"
"Yes, Venom." Eddie groans, but by the sound of his voice, he wishes he wasn't, "What do you need?"
"I decided on a favorite," Venom informs Eddie, and you listen under the guise of closed eyelids, "I like the sex one best."
You can't help it; you let out a snort.
"Nice going, V," Eddie squeezes your hand, shutting his eyes once more and attempting to get comfortable, "I'm sure that's just the answer she wanted to hear."
0.5k+ words of you stressing Deacon out by not saying "I love you" back.
“That’s not right,” you murmur. “He didn’t even read her Miranda rights.”
“Are you still watching this show?” Deacon questions, chuckling as he returns from the kitchen with your favorite drink.
“I thought it would get better,” you defend. “It hasn’t.”
“So, you’re going to turn it off now?”
You shrug, and Deacon shakes his head in amusement.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he promises.
Deacon places his hand on the back of the couch and leans down to kiss you. As he stands, you click the remote and begin the next episode.
“Don’t,” Deacon warns. “You’ll regret it. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“I won’t,” you assure him. “I’m giving it five more minutes. Ten maybe.”
Deacon slides his phone into his pocket and retrieves his keys from the table beside your door.
“I love you,” he says as he opens the door.
“See you when you get back,” you reply.
Deacon pauses in the open doorway and watches you. You’ve never hesitated to tell him how you feel; you said I love you first and kissed him a minute ago, so he knows you aren’t mad at him.
“Want me to bring dinner back?” he asks.
“I was actually thinking we could cook,” you say, turning to face him. “If you want.”
“Sounds good.” With your attention on him, Deacon tries again. “I love you.”
“Be safe.”
“Yeah… Text me if anything comes up, okay?”
You nod, and when Deacon says, “I love you,” again, you smile and turn to sit properly again.
Deacon drops his keys onto the table again and closes the door. He walks around the couch and then drops to sit directly beside you.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course,” you promise. “Just wondering what these writers were thinking.”
“Can I get your full attention for three seconds?” Deacon requests.
You pause the show and smile, leaning toward him as you nod. “I’m all yours,” you say.
“I love you,” Deacon says slowly, intentionally.
“I know.”
Deacon’s brows raise, and his shock is evident. You can’t take it then, laughing as you fall forward into his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” you force through your laughter. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”
Deacon raises your hand to his chest, and your amusement turns to guilt when you feel his heart beating rapidly.
“I’m sorry, Deacon,” you repeat, sitting up and taking his hands. “I love you - you know that.”
“Well, I thought I did, but then I said it a half-dozen times and you just asked about dinner.”
“Dinner with you!” you point out. “It was stupid; I really didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Say it again,” Deacon requests.
“I love you, Deacon.”
Deacon sighs, kisses your forehead, and then stands.
“Although, after a kiss like that, I shouldn’t have to tell you,” you joke.
“I will be back in a few hours,” Deacon says again, and you can tell he’s fighting not to smile. “And I hope for both of our sakes you are in a better mood.”
“I’m in a great mood when the man I love is here,” you flirt.
“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs as he opens the door.
“I’ll see you later with food!” you call. “Love you!”
“I know."
Sliver Spoons & Plastic Tubes
Posted:02/06/24
Title: Sliver Spoons & Plastic Tubes
Felix Catton x GN Disabled Reader
Summary: Felix learns that the new student he has a crush on is disabled.
[Reader uses a feeding tube due to a damaged esophagus and using a wheelchair because of scoliosis]
Author's note:
Word count: 2,947
Saltburn Story List/ Master List/ Requests Here
Warnings: language
🔞18+ page due to dark and adult themes. Minors will be blocked 🔞
"Make sure you write this down. This will be on your finals." The professor says while aggressively writing on the board. As quiet as you tried to be your desperate attempt to control your breath exposed you. " Mx L/n you're late... again." Your grumpy elderly Professor says without turning from the board. In heavy breaths, you try to form words. "Ran across campus... back pain -" She cuts you off and harshly whips around. "You are not more special than the rest of us, Mx l/n. We all have to get around campus in a short amount of time. So figure it out." You nodded, embarrassed, and found a random seat as she began speaking in the lecture once more. "I wouldn't take it personally. She is a bit of a bitch to all of us." A smooth voice says in a hushed tone as you pull your notes from your bag. "Pardon?" You turn to see the handsome brunette sitting next to you. Often, he would sit a few seats away, but this is the first time you can recall that he was directly next to you. "I said I wouldn't take it personally." You nodded. "Wasn't planning on it." His smile was sweet and honest. "I'm... I'm um Felix." He holds out his hand under the desk. Shaking it, you introduce yourself, only making his smile widen. "Y/n l/n..." Your name rolls from his lips. "I'm glad to finally put a name to that pretty face." He whispered with a wink. A soft, playful scoff failed to cover your fustiness. "I have to focus on the lesson." You say, turning away.
The class was over, and for the last time of the day, you'd have to run a marathon to get across campus in ten minutes for your last class of the day. Rushing out the classroom door, you begin to speedwalk. Running wasn't an option because of your spine. "Y/n! Wait up!" Felix calls from over the crowd. "Can't! Late!" All your energy was going into moving your feet as you dragged your wheeling backpack across the rough stone paths. "That's fine. I just thought I could give you a copy of my notes since you were late to class." His long legs kept up with your slow speedwalking with ease. "It was only 8 minutes. I'll be fine." The pain of your twisted spine forces you to keep your head as you walk. This kind of walking was taking everything in you. "Oh yeah, right..." He replies, almost disappointed. "Oh!" Felix exclaims as if a light bulb went off. "My friend is throwing a party tonight, and I think you should -" Frustrated by having to waste stamina on a pointless conversation, you abruptly cut him off. "I'm good." Taken back, he tries again. "A-are you sure? It'll be a lot of fun." The idea of fucking up your already messed up body with cheaply homemade alcohol, not being able to eat any of the finger food/ pizza, and being unable to fully dance with others was not what you had in mind for fun. "No." One word said with edgy cut Felix deep. "R-right. Yeah. No. I get it. Maybe some other time." He stops walking and watches you do your best to speed off believing you were trying to get away from him. Felix watches you wheel your bag away and wonders if he's offended you.
The embarrassment of watching you during class for the first half of the semester and then fucking up his first conversation with you took a toll on his mind. Convinced he offended you, Felix begins to be over-completed with suffocating kindness. "Y/n!" He whispered shouts as you here in late again. Only by 5 minutes, he noted. Felix pats the seat he saved you watching you scrabble to sit down. "You look great today." You fish for your notes, not fully hearing him. "Uh? What? Oh, um, thank you." You respond still not hearing him. Felix frowns, realizing you aren't paying attention. Day after day, you gave him the cold shoulder. There is never much knowledge of his presence in class and always rejecting his offers to hang out at the pub or a party. Until poor crushing, Felix saw the chance to finally get to know outside of class. Partner assignments. "So there's no fighting over who's with who's you'll all be working whoever you're currently sitting next to." The class mixes with grunts and cheers. "Looks like it's me and you," Felix says when the professor informs pairs to start conceptualizing. "Yeah. Do you want to go ahead and exchange phone numbers?" His phone warms. "You want my number?" Felix asks with a cheeky smile. Confused, you nodded. "Yeah? So we can meet up for homework." Mentally smacking himself, you trade phones to make contacts.
Felix wasn't sure why, but you'd asked to meet at a public library off campus. There were plenty of places to work and study on campus, so why go out of the way? Whatever the reason, it's what you said would be most comfortable for you, at least for your first meet-up. Felix wasn't going to complain he was just excited he was finally getting to hang out with you. "Felix!" He hears you whisper and shout. Looking up, he sees you in a wheelchair and his heart drops. He's quick to stand. "Holy shit! what happened? Are you okay?" You chuckle at his panic. "I'm fine. I just use a wheelchair to get around sometimes." Tilting his head like a dog showed his confusion as he watched you stand and park the wheelchair next to the study booth. "Why?" He asks. "Because my scoliosis makes it painful to walk long distances... and sometimes short distances." Being inquisitive, Felix's questions just keep coming. "Why don't you use it to get around campus?" You chuckle at the frustrating memories. "Because the school rather care about the well-being of the old bricks and stones of Oxford than the well-being of their students, so they refuse to make it wheelchair accessible." Felix nods along, understanding that. "Is that why you're always late?" You nodded. "Also why I never want to go to parties. I can't exactly dance my heart out." The handsome brunette frowns. "I-I'm sorry I didn't realize..." You hold up a hand stopping him. "It's fine. Really. You didn't know. I wouldn't have expected you to." Even then, he still felt bad, but then it hit him. You haven't been cold or dismissive of him. You've just been struggling with pain.
Felix takes your hand in his. "If there's anything I can do. Anything at all. Please tell me." He smiles sincerely. You blush as his thumb starts to brush against your skin. "Oh, um, okay. I will..." There's a moment of silence as you both stare at your hands. "Then I guess you should also know that I can't eat food either..." Meeting your eyes, he waits for you to continue. "I can't swallow solid food because a part of my esophagus is damaged. So I eat through this feeding tube." You pulled your hands away to lift your shirt, revealing the g-tube. Felix moved to sit next to you, getting a closer look. "Damn..." He whispered to himself. "Can I touch it?" You blushed. "Um sure, I guess..." Slowly, his huge hand reached for your tube. Two fingers touch the top and bottom. "Does this hurt?" He whispered. You shake your feelings a little too shy to speak. "Wow... that's fascinating." And he meant it. As you got together more often closer, you became. Felix is constantly asking if you're doing okay and bringing you smoothies.
"The hell is a g-tube?" Farleigh asked. "It's this cute little thing that sticks out of their stomach. It's how they eat." Felix explains. "Anyway, y/n said they have it because they can't eat solid food." Farleigh chuckles. "What? What do you mean they can't eat solid food? That sounds like bullshit. Not gonna lie." Felix clenched his jaw. "It's not bullshit, dude. They didn't tell me why, but they said their esophagus is damaged, and that's why they can't eat." Farleigh rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and they use a wheelchair but only off-campus. Isn't that convenient?" He takes a puff of his cigarette as Felix starts to get mad. "What the hell is wrong with you, Farleigh? These are serious issues." Again, Farleigh rolls his eyes. "They just sound a little fake to me, is all." Farleigh never even meets, but he's also never met someone with disabilities like yours. Why wouldn't his judgmental attitude get in the way of his compassion? Pissed off Felix storms out of the pub, not wanting to scream at his cousin.
☆
"Come to Saltburn..." Your new best friend offers. "What?" You asked, surprised. "Come home with me for the summer. Come to Saltburn." His eyes were big and innocent like the puppy he was. "I-I don't know Felix. My disabilities-" He cuts you off. "It won't be a problem. I promise my home will be accessible and my cook will make you the best soups and pudding... please y/n I want to spend my summer with my best friend." You blush at the thought. "... I guess I'm not doing anything else this summer." Felix smiles. "Yes!" He cheers before hugging you tightly and kissing your forehead. "You'll love it, I promise!" You can't help but smile at his eagerness. "With you there, I will love everything~" Felix blushes but tries his best to play it off.
☆
Nervously, you take in the view of Saltburn as a footman retrieves your luggage from the escort while another footman assembles your wheelchair. "Here we are." He says, grabbing your attention. "Oh, thank you." You replied, sitting down and placing your cane in your lap. With a nod, he begins pushing you down the long gravel road leading up to the house. At the entrance was a grand door with stone stairs. However, a ramp was installed clearly for your benefit. The hash contrast of the centuries-old stone clashing with shiny metal made that abundantly clear. As you were rolled up the ramp, the doors swag open. "Welcome to Saltburn Mx L/n. Master Felix has had us working diligently for your arrival." Greets and intimating butler. "Please do come in." He instructs like there wasn't a footman pushing you. "Wow." The extravagant architecture took your breath away. You were guided into a large room with gold on the walls and old artwork hanging from it. "Y/n!" Felix cheers from the other side of the elongated room. Your smile matches his. Standing, you wait as he rushes to engulf you in a tight hug. "I missed you so much~" He kisses the top of your head. "I missed you too~" Let's go tell his scary butler to take care of your bags. "Do you want me to push you around while I give you the tour?" Shaking your head, you show him your cane. "I'll just use this for now. If that's fine." He grins," of course. Take the wheelchair with their bags." Felix compared before taking your arm like a gentleman and began guiding you around the house.
☆
After the tour, you finally got to meet the family. "To think the poor thing can't eat anything. How unfortunate and not to mention the scoliosis -" A woman says before Felix can be heard cutting her off telling her she's being rude. You knock on the halfway-open door while pushing it open. Felix's face brightens. "Hello..." You shyly wave. Seeing an older man, Farleigh, Felix, an orange-haired woman, and a blonde woman who stands to greet you. "You must be Y/n. I'm Elspeth, Felix's mother. It's so lovely to meet you. Felix was very eager to have you come stay with us - oh and you ARE stunning." She praises. "I told you." Replied Felix. His mother rolls her eyes. "Yes, well, you're kind to everyone. You can't be trusted." You blush at her forwardness. "Thank you." Pulling you to the couch, she shows off the orange-haired woman named Pamela. "You know I've never heard of a g-tube before. I was very fascinated when Felix told me about it. May I see it?" Felix immediately jumps in. "Mother!" "What?" She asks innocently. "It's rude." "Oh ignore him." You smile at Felix before turning back to his mother. "It's alright." You lift your shirt to reveal the tube in your stomach. "Wow. How adorable." That's probably the strangest reaction you've gotten to it. "It's also called a button." You inform her, which makes her awe again. "What a fitting name~" Elspeth goes on to tell you of the accommodations the house has made for your disabilities. The many ones being Wheelchair ramps installed almost everywhere and especially made liquid meals. "That's so kind of you." You praise. "Oh, it's nothing, really. Not to mention, Felix was very adamant about your house being assessable. He even wrote most of the meals for your meals." She says, sipping her champagne. You look to Felix, whose face is pink. "It's an important thing to be adamant about..."
Dinner time rolls around, and you dress in the clothes Felix kindly provided for you before nervously making your way down to join everyone. "Wow..." Felix breathes when seeing you. "You look great." He compliments hugging you. Pulling out the chair next to him, he gestures for you to sit. "Thank you.", "Of course~" The large table was filled with food and decor you couldn't begin to name. "For you, Mx y/n." A footman grabs your attention before seating a silver tray with a matching silver dome over it. He lifts it with grace to reveal a gourmet soup. The footman gave you a quick overview description of the meal that you hardly understood. "Thank you!" He nods before leaving. You were quick to try a bite with a shiny silver spoon. The mouth-watering warm soup was full of flavor. "Mhm!" You moan at the taste, causing Felix to chuckle. "I take it you like it?", "Are you kidding?! This is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted!" Felix almost forgot about his food due to watching you devouring and praising the soup. One of the many things he'd picked out for you.
The summer is filled with newness. New food, new state-of-the-art electric wheelchairs, new people, and luxuries. Of course, your best friend Felix was at the center of all of this. Showering you in affection. For the first time in your life, you could see your value in someone's eyes. When he looked at you, you weren't a sick kid or a fragile patient. You were his equal, and that radiates through his actions.
Today, he wakes you up in the middle of the night to have root beers floating on the roof of his mansion. The stars were clear due to being so far from the cities and towns. A few garden lights here and there created their star-like lights down below, giving the view a high-heaven feeling. As if you were high up in another world looking down to earth. The root beer floats enhanced the moment with sweet coolness and cheap sparks.
"You know..." He starts. "You could have this forever if you wanted..." You frowned in confusion. "I don't think drinking root beer floats forever is a good idea." He laughs, shaking his head. "No, love. I mean... this." He gestures to his over-the-top home. "The luxury of saltburn... you could eat gourmet soup every day and have people wait on you. You could even have a home doctor if that's what you want or the best-trained service dog..." This feels random. "Felix... where is this coming from?" He sighs. "I... I love you so much, y/n, and I know this is bonkers, but... I wanna marry you." Your jaw drops thinking this has to be a joke. "It doesn't have to be anytime soon, but I want to call you mine someday and share my life with you." He pauses to gauge your reaction. Frozen, you almost spill your drink. "Wow, Felix..." He becomes shy, embarrassed by the confession. "I know it's crazy. I just... I just need you to know that." You blink trying to come back to the moment. "Well... haha... I uh... I'm flattered." The young man looks at understanding. "I don't know about marriage, but... a date sounds nice." His eyes light up. "Really?" The question comes out with a squeak of excitement. You nodded. "Holy shit." Exhaling a breath, the weight of the world disappeared. Felix pulls you into a strong hug, scared to let go. "Fuck. Really? Are you sure? You don't have to say yes just to spare me." You giggle. "Yeah, I'm sure." In a blink, Felix pulls you into a passionate kiss before quickly pulling back. "Shit, sorry. I should've asked.", "you can kiss me when you want, baby -" He blushed and cut you off with a deeper kiss. The natural puffiness of his lips tastes like sweet vanilla ice cream and cheap soap. "I can't wait to take you out, doll.", "I'm glad I know a good place to eat." He kisses your forehead. "Come on, love, let's go get to bed.", "Only if it's the same bed~," you flirt with a wink. An innocent bashfulness causes him to turn pink in the moonlight. "Your wish is my command~" He kisses you before hands, and you both almost empty cups and waits for you to sit in your wheelchair before pushing you along, back to your new home.