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Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Three)

Part One // Part two // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part three of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks/smokes, difficult relationship with Giles and not friends with Buffy.

He had been searching for you when you hadn’t returned, his face steeped in worry as he stormed through the night to find you. Maybe you had got lost or eaten in that annoying human way. He cared for you deeply. He couldn’t help it and as he walked through Sunnydale until the light started to singe his body, he knew that he couldn’t fight his feelings anymore.

It had been five days. He had caught your scent around the UC Sunnydale campus but he kept losing it in certain places. He needed to see you, needed to make sure that you were okay.

He had been sleeping in your bed clinging to your clothes, bathing in your scent. Wishing he could have you back by his side again, where he was more sure each day that you truly belonged. He wished to have you pressed against him again, cradle you in his arms, grip your body in his bed.

He had found you five days later by chance, stalking into the Bronze looking for something to pass the time. His mind on you but he had little hope that you would appear before him. He was even beginning to worry he had dreamt you up.

Until, well, there you were. Stood at the side of the Bronze looking miserable as you swirled your drink around. You were talking to a redhead who looked a little exhausted by your company.

He stepped back, watching you intently as if you were a mirage. He wanted to reach out and touch you so badly but he was afraid you may be a cruel illusion. He had looked for you for days, he had worried sick about you.

From the dark he overheard your conversation, you had left because of the kiss. It had overwhelmed you as much as you had wanted to stay in the moment forever.

“I just don’t know… should I go? Should I stay?” You asked, not for the first time since you had started talking to her.

“I, uh, I’m still not sure Spike is exactly boyfriend material”

“I’m not trying to make a blanket out of him, Will” You said smiling softly at the idea of Spike wrapping his arms around you.

Your indecision was bugging even yourself as you spoke about it for the millionth time. Willow was at a loss as to what to say other than that Spike was very dangerous and ultimately evil. You were already way past that and had seen the good in him as well as the bad. You liked both but you knew that this would sever any chance at reconciling with your Dad.

“Embarrassed, is that it?” Spike asked, his eyes not meeting yours as he stepped from the shadows. His eyes were haunted by a situation much like this, some decades earlier. He felt it, the rejection, the pain. It was so acute and written on his face so clearly that you could almost feel it yourself.

“Spike, it’s not like that, I-”

“You used me for a cheap thrill and then went toddling back to your boring little life livin’ under Daddy’s thumb”

He stormed out, lighting up a cigarette as he walked, his duster whipping around him as he walked into the street. You ran after him, ignoring his muttering about not even getting to the thrilling part.

You grabbed his shoulder and he let you turn him to face you. He was agonisingly close, you even found his frown cute. His anger desirable. You wanted to kiss his pain away, remove the furrow from his brow. Offer up any thrill that he could possibly want.

“If you don’t want me then bloody well let me free” He moved as if to push past you but you took his hand. With your touch he softened, even slightly.

“I was scared, Spike”

“Now you find the time to bloody fear me”

“It’s just, I was trained from a child to be a Watcher and as much as I never cared for it, things like that are kinda difficult to unlearn. Suddenly I was ten years old again being screamed at by some stuffy Watchers when I started to empathise with one of the vampires in our case studies.”

You had been wrestling with your own morality. It was a battle you could never win when kissing Spike felt so right but everything you had been taught until now had told you it was so wrong.

He nodded, understanding that where you come from can impact your life, and even your un-life. He was still reeling from the rejection, it had hurt in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was human. He offered you a smoke, you took it, leaning into him as he flicked his lighter on for you. Your eyes met, deepening your gaze as you inhaled the thick smoke.

Nothing was said in this time, though it lasted for an age, something unspoken was communicated. Shared.

He lowered himself, his duster sliding from his shoulder slightly as he knelt on the floor his cigarette bobbing from his lips as he spoke, “I’m on my knees here, pet, I can’t lose you. Love like this comes once an eternity.”

“Love?”

You reached for him, lowering yourself to kneel with him, your hands clasping his after flicking your cigarette away. You couldn’t help the way your doubts creeped into your head, how your upbringing made you question every move that you made in terms of good and evil.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Come home?”

You had barely nodded before he slammed his lips against yours, your knees resting uncomfortably on the tarmac, but all you could think about was the way he felt against you. The urgency in which he kissed, the way he cradled your face in his hands, caressed your skin. He felt divine beneath your hands, his lips felt heavenly on yours.

How could anything about this be wrong?

You leaned against him, your forehead pressed against his as you panted trying to regain your composure. You stayed like that for a while in the dark alley before you took his hand again and walked towards your shared crypt.

From there, you took things slow. Much slower than either of you would like. You often fell asleep against him in the evenings and shared such deep confessions. Of your pasts, of your feelings for the other.

After a week of settling back into your home, you had an unwelcome houseguest. And she didn’t even bring a home-warming gift.

Buffy slammed the door to your crypt so hard that it almost came clean off its hinges. She came to tell you that your father had been turned into some demon by Ethan Rayne and she wanted to make sure that you knew that he was okay. That he was shaken but unharmed and would perhaps appreciate a visit from his family.

You mumbled something about going to visit sometime but realised this was the wrong decision. Buffy saw this as an opportunity to give you some (again, unwelcome) advice.

“Look, y/n, as a friend-”

“We were never really friends, Buffy”

The young girl looked surprisingly hurt, perhaps she had truly seen you as a friend and you had misjudged her. She had, of course, never been anything other than pleasant to you. You had just allowed your jealousies to fester beyond control. Plus she was self-righteous in a kind of annoying way.

“Well, friend or not I care about you because I care about Giles. Grow up, y/n, the rebel act was kinda last season. He misses you”

“He made it very clear that I’m not welcome, why would him letting Ethan make him all Fyarl-y make a difference?”

“You can’t be happy here, with him” she visibly shuddered as he walked up to join you from the lower level of the crypt. You appreciated that you got a glimpse of his athletic torso beneath his unbuttoned red shirt.

He slung an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder and whispering in your ear. You were too comfortable together and Buffy looked as if it made her physically sick. She threatened Spike vaguely, gave you another warning and then with a hair flip she stormed back out of the crypt and slammed the door shut behind her.

The thing that irritated you the most was that she genuinely thought she was ‘saving you from yourself’. That you had taken the wrong path. That the love, this amazing and beautiful feeling that you had never quite felt anything like before, was somehow wrong. Or gross. Or evil.

Which had fed into your thoughts the first time you had been close to Spike. You wouldn’t let it happen again. You hated the distance. The way his absence had physically pained you.

Spike guided you back down to the his bedroom, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, nipping at your neck and caressing his lips down your chest. He wanted you all to himself, he wouldn’t let you go again. Not now he knew how good life could be with you in it. By his side, in his bed.

By late afternoon you were lying on your side in his bed, watching him writing in a notebook. Papers littered the floor of the crypt. He hadn’t had such inspiration since he was human. You had brought him back to life. Revived him.

“Did you mean it, when you said you loved me?” You asked softly, your fingers trailing softly against his muscled arm.

“Never meant anything more,”

He had, of course, noted that you hadn’t said it to him. It stung a little but he would rather have you by his side even if you didn’t love him than not at all. He knew you cared for him, of course. Knew that you felt safe with him. Knew that he would kill any man, demon or slayer that came anywhere near you.

He put his writing down, shifting himself and burying his face into the crook of your neck. He would give anything to hear you say it.

“Say you’re mine, love, and I’ll be here until the end of time,” He pleaded between landing slow kisses against your exposed skin.

“I love you, Spike, I think… I think I’ve always been yours,” You whispered as if you were afraid he might overhear.

He smirked darkly, his fangs bared and his face morphed from beyond your line of vision. Your eyes were closed, enjoying his touch. He suddenly wrenched your head to the side, exposing your neck further.  

He could feel your pulse thrumming faster now.

He swallowed thickly,  before propelling himself towards your neck, ignoring the firing from his chip as he held you in place…

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Two)

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part two of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks, difficult relationship with dad!Giles, reader doesn't like Buffy much.

You did, it turns out, like Spike in a way you hadn’t realised until you had spent some time with him. It made sense now, all the time you had tried talking to him and clinging onto the small amount you had learnt about him while he stayed with you for all those months. The amount of Passions you watched just to spend time with him.

He fascinated you, made you feel at ease in a way that no one ever had, despite the casual threats of death.

You knew, however, that if you stayed where you wanted to be, with Spike, there could be trouble. Not only with the Scoobies. You were still hurt by what had happened with your father. You felt like a failure, you had never meant to lose the jobs or disappoint your Dad.

You just hated the expectations he had and the pressure he had always laid on so thick and it made you want something completely different. What this different thing was, however, you weren’t sure.

You were sitting on a stone tomb, watching as Spike walked towards you, slamming himself down beside you while he waited the last agonising minutes for the sun to rise.

“What’s happening in that mind of yours?” He asked, using two fingers to tap his own temple. He had caught you staring into the distance again, reliving that horrible moment with your father.

“What do you mean?”

“Can tell there’s something up from a mile away” He shook his head adding, “Not that I care much that is”

“I feel like a bad person” you sighed, folding in on yourself.

“You ain’t bad, believe me, I know bad”

“Maybe I haven’t killed anyone like you but if I was a good person, Dad wouldn’t have-” You started to let your mouth run as fast as your thoughts, before he cut you off, a flash of anger behind his eyes at how you had been made to feel.

“Don’t start with all that rot, what dear Rupert did was evil even by my standards. If anything, love, you’re painfully average verging on boring” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke.

“Thanks, I actually really needed that,” You laughed through the tears that had started to well in your eyes. You paused for a moment, before asking, “I don’t think you’ve ever spoken to me this much. Why wouldn’t you talk to me at Dad’s?”

“Couldn’t risk it”

“What do you mean?” Your words caught in your throat as you asked.

“Well, you know, send in the pretty one to play good cop and all that crap” he explained, elaborating that he had thought that you were playing him to get information out of him about the Initiative for Buffy and the others.

You smiled softly at the way he spoke about you. You sat in silence for a while, smiling at him softly, leaning back against the threadbare sofa. He did the same, lying back, his head turned towards you until there were mere inches between you.

He was watching your lips curve in that way he found so pleasing. It made him feel something deep within, a tensing, a fluttering of something he couldn’t describe. God, how he wanted to lean into you, press his lips against you. But he couldn’t let himself go there. He didn’t like Watchers or Slayers. In fact, he hated you. Yep, definitely. Hate. That was what this was.

Later on, after you had stayed for a couple more days, you began to worry that you had outstayed your welcome but he had never actually asked you to leave. It had been confirmed to you as Spike burst through from the lower level of the crypt and kicked some of your old clothes you had set aside to go to a laundromat later.

“Bloody crap everywhere! Can’t move for all your human bollocks” He kicked a bag that was leaking clothes onto the floor. You had sneaked back into your Dad’s place to grab more of your stuff and had overheard him on the phone to someone, once again assassinating your character.

“You’re right. I should probably find something more human-y and permanent” You shrugged, “Thanks for, uh, letting me stay and all”

“Where you gonna go?” He stopped what he had been doing, his brow furrowing in that way that you found so cute. His head cocked to the side as he asked the question.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find something”

“Can’t have that, love, stay until you’ve got somethin’ more proper figured out”

“You want me to stay?”

“’S not that. You could be eaten up tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a toss,” He insisted, slightly more half-heartedly than normal, “Just wouldn’t be right to see you out when you’re perfect bait for anything nasty that walks it’s way in”

It was true, the two instances that a demon had found their way into the crypt, they had made straight for you. Thus, ignoring Spike and letting him gain the upper hand on them both.

His eyes lit up at the way you smiled at his words. Despite the cruel appearance of his words, they made you smile. You had found yourself fond of his threats, his way with words. You had it bad. He drank in your form, eyes lingering first on your lips then slowly along your cheek and before slowly moving to meet your eyes.

He snapped himself away, after spending too long with that unmoving gaze. He snatched up his book and began to read by candlelight sat on one of the stone tombs, again waiting for the sun to set so that he could grab some blood and other necessities.

You stayed on the sofa, lying back and thinking about everything that had brought you to this point.

The turning of the pages and the soft candlelight, the occasional whisper of Spike’s voice as he murmured words that he was reading under his breath. It made you yawn, eventually slipping into a slumber. The atmosphere made you feel so comfortable, comfort in such a way that you had never experienced before. You weren’t afraid of being attacked or judged for your decisions. You didn’t have any pressure or expectations to live up to.

You felt… safe.

After placing a blanket over your sleeping form, Spike decided to make a little trip out. He needed to get a few things, he was starting to enjoy having a roommate. Especially one that he found so attractive. Not that he particularly let himself think on this for too long. He was trying so desperately to stop the feelings from growing, denying it the light of day to bloom.

You hadn’t noticed it to begin with, the way that the crypt started to resemble something not far from cosy. There was a tv set, a little makeshift bar with a fridge and it had been decorated with fairy lights and he had even sourced a real mattress for your room on the lower level. It was split into two, Spike had the bigger room, his explanation was that he deserved it being the only one providing for the house while you tried to find a job. 

After a couple of months, you and Spike had been dancing around feelings that had started to grow, not that either of you recognised that the other felt the same. Spike could be grumpy and still often threatened to drink from your brainstem if you left a mess around the place. He was surprisingly particular about how his home was made, especially considering that you were in a crypt and half of it was covered in cobwebs.

“Fancy a proper drink then, pet?” He asked one night.

 You had grown fond of the pet names and smiled at his words, you would never have thought your relationship with Spike would become something akin to a friendship. You adored him and allowed yourself brief daydreams where you reached for more.

“I haven’t got any money, Spike, you know that”

“On me”

“I don’t like being in debt to people”

“I’m sure we can work out some kind of repayment” He arched his eyebrow suggestively before snatching up his leather duster and gesturing for you to follow him.

Turns out, there was no repayment necessary as Spike stole the liquor and two glasses from behind the bar and topped up your drinks all night. You never thought you would feel so normal drinking in a demon bar. You did get a few suspicious looks but when Spike glared back they assumed that he was just going to eat you later himself.

You sat in a booth, leaning into him so you could hear what he was saying over the music that was playing. He told you all sorts of stories about his ‘glory days’ and you hung onto every word. You could tell he was exaggerating some of them to impress you and it only made you enjoy them more.

“Spike?” You asked quietly after a while.

“Mm?”

“Is this a date?” You asked, eyes not able to meet his. You instead pretended to find the contents of your glass incredibly interesting.

“Depends, love”

“On?”

“If-” He started, never able to finish what he had been about to let slip. Luckily or unluckily, depending on which mood he was in, he didn’t have chance because a gang slammed the entrance open and started to smash the place up.

He immediately got up and positioned himself in front of you, blocking you from the threat. He smirked and rolled his eyes when he saw you get up and stand beside him in his peripheral.

They were clearly looking for someone that wasn’t you, but when their eyes did land on you it was all that they were interested in. It was the Scoobies. They had clearly heard some edited version of why you had left from your father as they looked at you with suspicion.

“I should have known that you would sink as low as this. To dance with depravity like this is truly reprehensible” Your father spoke first as the other three whispered to each other.

“Spike’s done more for me in the last month than any of you put together. These people haven’t done anything to you-”

“Apart from the fact that they’re not people, they’re demons,” Buffy reminded you. You ignored her.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore Giles, I don’t care that I’ve disappointed you and I don’t care that you think I’m all “evil” now for having a couple of drinks in a demon bar. Surely someone that was educated so well couldn’t be so stupid?!” You rolled your eyes

“Y/n-”

“Take your Slayer and go” You warned. They had just been looking for information anyway, Giles decided to do as you said (for probably the first time in your life). What you had said affected him. He had been visibly taken aback before you watched him walk back with the rest of the Scooby gang.

The bartender announced free drinks for everyone to celebrate their unlife lasting at least another night now that the Slayer had left. You weren’t exactly feeling it anymore though, so you both left.

You assumed Spike was going to say something mean in answer to your questioning that had been interrupted. But he truly had almost said it had been a date. If you had wanted it to be. He would have done anything, so long as it had made you happy. He knew this now. Knew for certain his desire, his love, was a force that could not be curtailed. The way you had stood up for yourself, even for him. He was used to the insults that were hurled his way by Buffy and the others. He had forgotten what it was like to have someone in his corner.

He was doing that thing again, watching you with that look. The one that told you he knew you, could see directly into your soul. The one you would so gladly offer up to him had he asked.

You were grateful for his presence beside you as the adrenaline from the argument still draining from your body slowly. It had still not properly subsided by the time you both arrived home.

Home.

Funny how a place like this could make you feel such relief. It was simple, but you had never felt that way coming ‘home’ before.

You stood close, his face close to yours, so close that you could smell him. Thick smoke and some kind of cologne that you had never noticed before. You leaned in further, not knowing if it was leftover adrenaline or just pure need, you caught his lips with yours.

He had been leaning towards you at the same moment, his hand sliding up your arm, lingering against your neck. He cradled your neck as his lips moved to meet yours. He pressed himself against you, desperate and wanting. Needing your touch, your kiss. Your everything.

His touch made your kiss deepen, you pulled his shirt, balling it in your fists as you tried to pull him even closer. He tasted good. Too good.

You moved away from him, breaking the sweet contact you had been wanting for so long now. You stepped back again, telling him to go and make himself comfortable. You needed to grab a few things and that you would be back.

“Bloody tease!” he called after you playfully as he did what you had said. He’d have listened to anything you had said to do that again. To touch your body so intimately. It had been all he had fantasised about. All he had been consumed by.

You didn’t immediately understand why you did it.

Why you left the crypt and didn’t look back, walking away into the night.

Leaving him waiting for your return.

Should I stay or should I go? (Part one)

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Spike x Giles!reader

Part one of four! Be kind please💖

Warning: reader drinks, difficult relationship with parents, especially dad!Giles, reader loses their home.

You had moved to Sunnydale a few years prior with your father, he had tried desperately to train you up as a watcher but you never listened, you hated following orders and ultimately, you failed your observation when the watcher’s council came into town to check on your progress.

It bored you and for the 48 hours that you had been in charge of Buffy, you had all gone to the Bronze and let an apocalyptic rift open in the heart of the town when you failed to investigate or do any meaningful research. In your defence, it was a very minor and basically harmless apocalypse. Well, it was after Angel contacted your father when he couldn’t get hold of you or Buffy and he came back into town.

You hated dusty research and telling people what they ought to be doing. You hated the weird pressure your father put on you to become a watcher just like him and sometimes, you even hated Buffy because of the way your father doted on her so. She could do no wrong, even when he was mad at her or telling her what to do he gave her a much easier time than he ever had with you.

You were a disappointment. You could see that clearly enough.

You stayed in Sunnydale though, for reasons unknown to yourself. You just didn’t have anywhere else to go. Nothing excited you, it seemed.

You had moved back in with your father after you couldn’t make rent. You had let another crappy job throw you out the door. You just couldn’t stick to their stupid pointless rules. They made no sense and they paid you next to nothing at that.

You were sitting on the lid of the toilet as Buffy fed your newest houseguest blood from a novelty mug.

“Willow may have had a very helpful idea. She seems to be coping better with Oz’s departure, don’t you think?” Giles asked walking back into the bathroom, directing his words at Buffy rather than the rest of the room as he walked in. It was like you didn’t exist most of the time.

“Well, she still has a way to go but, yeah, I think she’s dealing”

“What, are you people blind? She’s hanging on by a thread” Spike stated, muttering to himself after and rolling his eyes. Buffy just scoffed and left the room, taking the blood he had been drinking away with her as your Dad followed her out.

You had just been about to say something similar, but in a perhaps more conversational format rather than accusatory.

“You’re quite astute really, aren’t you” You said, scanning Spike’s face. He used to creep you out a bit back when he was trying to kill you and all that. Not that you would admit it.

You had never really studied him this closely before. But looking at him now, he just looked so normal. Apart from the shackles and the almost painfully pale complexion… and the fact he had blood crusting at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s no talent, pet, a man walkin’ in from the street could read the lot of you like a book”

“I like to think I’m not that predictable”

“Don’t you all. Humans, you’re always thinking you’re so original, but you’re all a copy of the last”

“I guess when you’ve been around a thousand years everything gets sort of old… apart from the, uh, obvious” you sort of gestured vaguely at his face, a little glint in your eye as you teased him.

“Watch it” He warned, his shackles clinking against the tub as he pointed to accentuate his words. You waited for a moment in silence, watching the tap slowly drip beads of water into the cool porcelain. You waited about seven drips before you spoke again.

“Don’t you get bored? I get bored of the days here sometimes, it’s always a demon or a spell or some dumb melodrama with Dad’s little protegees”

You were surprised at the way this admittance casually tumbled from your own mouth. You weren’t sure why you were speaking to him like this, perhaps you were seeking some kind of connection. It was very you to try in such a stupid place.

“No” he shrugged turning away from you and staring up at the ceiling.

“Come on, I’m trying to open up here”

“Well close back up again” He shrugged, his eyes still fixed upwards. You shrugged, standing and leaving him in his bathtub. You hoped boredom consumed him for the rest of the day.

You left for a bar and returned late at night, having missed another eventful Sunnydale evening. By the morning when it had all calmed down, Willow had showed up to apologise again to Giles and caught you brewing your morning beverage.

She explained animatedly about your father going blind, Buffy and Spike getting engaged and Xander being a demon magnet. You tried very hard to focus on her words and gasp in the correct places whilst your head spun and you gripped the handle of your mug.

Willow was your favourite out of the Scoobies, she was a sweet kid and you made the most effort with her as you got the sense she knew what not being listened to felt like. You were glad you had missed the evening’s events, not that sitting alone at a bar and nursing a drink was much more interesting.

A few weeks later, Spike had been allowed to roam more freely by this point and he was lying on the sofa in your living room. You had a snack in your mouth and had carried a steaming mug of blood in one hand and a box of Weetabix in the other.

You gestured with your head for him to move his legs and he just stared at you for a moment before moving and snatching the mug and the box from your hands. You settled in beside him in front of an episode of Passions, trying, once again to speak to him but he was cold with you. Not even a thank you for the blood. I mean, he was evil, but did he have to keep it up all of the time?

You had tried talking to him, asking him questions about his past but he only really gave short sentences in reply. Today you were unceremoniously told to shut up so that he could watch Passions in peace.

You huffed but stayed beside him, weirdly drawn in by the stupid show. You missed his eyes lingering on you briefly as you glued your eyes to the set.

Truth was, Spike had a little soft spot for you. One that had grown even slightly since he had become a hostage in the same house you lived in. He tried to keep a distance from you, not directly look you in the eye as if you were some kind of love-inducing gorgon that would turn his resolve into a stone that could so easily crumble.

But he wouldn’t give anything away.

By the time Spike left, you were relieved that you could use your bathroom in peace. You knew trying to talk to him had been a waste of time but he interested you and, more to the point, you had found yourself being incredibly lonely.

You had been distracted lately, trapped inside your mind. You felt like you were missing something. So much so you had maybe accidentally skipped a couple of shifts at your new job. You had been sneaking back into your house when Giles caught you. You winced at his voice, knowing you would have to fess up.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Magic Box?”

“Oh, right, about that…” You began, unsure how to explain what had happened the day before. You had been avoiding your Dad ever since. You didn’t have to say anything, he already knew.

“You really are a bloody-”

“A what? Go on, say it!”

“A liability” He stormed over and poured himself a whiskey.

“It’s not exactly surprising is it, being told I couldn’t even visit my mother, left only with a man like you as a father, hey Ripper?” You don’t know why you said it. Truly, he wasn’t a terrible father. He was just bad at hiding his disappointment which made you feel, in a word, terrible about yourself.

He went very quiet for a moment. The temperature seemed to drop before he finally spoke again.

“I suggest you leave”

“What-?”

“Pack up your things and leave” he repeated, pronouncing each word crisply.

“You can’t mean that!”

“You can’t support yourself, Y/n, and I certainly shouldn’t have to”

“Where am I supposed to go?!”

“I suppose you will have to begin by figuring that out for yourself” He stared through you, downing the rest of his scotch before thundering up the stairs to his room and slamming the door.

You were ashamed to admit that as soon as he slammed the door, you broke down into tears. You knew you had been fucking everything up. You just wanted something more, you couldn’t describe it.

You packed a bag, slung it over your shoulder and walked out of the door, not once looking back. To this day you still don’t know how long you walked for, but by the time that you could see the sun threatening the dark skies through your blurred vision you had found yourself in a graveyard.

You had nowhere else to go and you weren’t above sleeping in a graveyard, you soon discovered You were so exhausted you could barely move another step. You ducked into some old mausoleum, kicking away some dust from the corner and laying out your jacket as a sort of mattress and you bag as a pillow.

You curled into the corner and screwed your eyes up. You had finally began to drift into a fitful sleep when heavy footprints came towards you.

“This ain’t a bloody hotel, bugger off would you-!” He stormed, reaching down to grab your shoulder before he recognised you, “Y/n?”

You bolted up, relaxing only for a moment when you noted you weren’t in any immediate danger before descending straight into embarrassment. You would really rather he hadn’t caught you sleep-crying on the floor of a crypt. Then again, it didn’t really matter what he thought, you reminded yourself quickly. He scanned your face, finding pain written there and seemingly making a decision before he turned away.

You stood up, noting an old couch had been pushed into the far corner of the tomb. You sat on it, bringing your bag with you and noting that it was only marginally more comfortable than the floor.

“Here” Spike returned, offering you a half empty bottle of  liquor. You took it, nodding your thanks and taking two large gulps. His eyes bulged for a moment before pulling a face of slight approval, until you looked back at him and he hid any evidence of expression from his face.

“Why are you being nice?”

“You take that back. I’m not bloody nice”

“No, I know, you’re evil and all that. I’ll admit, I felt a little shiver when I saw you first until, I uh, remembered you couldn’t…” You tailed off, “Not helping my case am I?”

“Liquor’s the cheap stuff so you’re doin’ me a favour by getting rid of it” he shrugged. Spike was secretly pleased for the company. He had felt so alone of late.

You watched his lips, eyes scanning down to his neck and over his leather-clad torso. The way the dim light accentuated his features, the curve of his jaw, that sparkle in his eye, that smirk that was never far from his lips.

Oh God, no. You didn’t… did you?

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- S1E1-Light Bulb with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren't warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie'sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I've been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I'm contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won't be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 5,680

“Ten seconds!” Jacob yelled over his shoulder at the people in the room. Melissa and Barbra rushed over to the sitting area in front of the television that played the action news. Naoya sitting the opposite of them on the small couch.

“Oh, we love Action News! Get in early just to watch it.” Melissa said to the cameras. “It just really calms you down after wanting to take a wrench to someone's side mirror in traffic.” She beamed as if what she said was totally normal.

“But the Philadelphia region continues to suffer, temperature in the mid-90s with a heat index approaching 100…” The television said as they all sat and watched.

“Now I’m a proud married Christian woman and I love my husband. But there’s something about that Jim Gardner.” Barba gushed to the cameras. “That non-regional diction.” The woman was practically blushing just at the thought of the man.

“It is so important to support and acknowledge local journalism, okay?” Jacob started. “There’s no agenda here. This is—This is one going, in the streets, powerful stuff.” He explained seriously.

“I get in early just to see my aunt Magnolia on the screen. She’s a news anchor and I like telling her what I like and dislike about her outfits every morning.” Naoya nodded nonchalantly.

“Wouldn’t want to see that dog in traffic.” Jim Fardner said as they all laughed while watching a little Pomeranian dog drive a toy car.

“Yes, Jim.” Barbra agreed, not seeing the confused look Noaya gave her from the side.

“I like the news because that’s when I can say whatever I want and nobody asks any questions.” Mr.Johnson told the cameras with a smirk.

“I’m taking a personal day.” The old man said as he entered the room, looking at the backs of everyone’s heads as they continued to watch the morning news. “Going fishing with my friends. Anyways, toilet papers in the closet.” He said before walking out.

“I hear him.” Naoya nodded, giving the people behind the camera a small smile. “I hear everything. Plus he is a hilarious old man and I wanna know all his secrets. I am this close to cracking him.” She said with an evil smirk making its way into her face as she lined her fingers together to indicate a small amount.

“I saw Jim Gardner once. At the Chipotle.” Barbra smiled bashfully, not taking her eyes away from the television. “Ooh, he orders a bowl so handsomely.” She gushed. Naoya gave the older woman another look, this time more concern than confusion.

It was only a moment later that Jacob was going through the break room fridge, poking around for something. “Who’s branzino is this?” He asked, holding the fish dish in his hands. “This is a very powerfully smelling fish to put in a shared fridge.” The boy complained as politely as he could, closing the ice box with a disgusted look on his face.

“Don’t touch it,” Melissa said looking up from her phone. “I’m making it right at my cousin Annette’s.” She made her way over to have a seat in her usual spot next to Barb. “She thinks she’s the best cook in the family. I’m gonna show her in a non-threatening way. Imma look cuter than her too.” She smirked.

“I have a distant cousin named Annette,” Naoya said, finishing up the delicious breakfast sandwich that she had every morning. “She was psychotic though, used to put poison in the condiments at restaurants.” The younger woman stated, looking off in thought as the rest stared at her in disbelief. “I haven’t seen her in ages. Don’t want to either, she was butt ugly.” She then took a sip of her orange juice.

Just as she finished, Janine walked into the room, putting her bag down on the table in front of Melissa and Barbra. “Guys, the lights in the back hallways have been out for weeks.”

“Thank you for the update,” Melissa said as she applied more makeup.

“What are you wearing?” Barbra asked, looking her up and down.

“And we need to do something about it. Okay?” The short woman tried to sound demanding but it didn’t come off that way. “Uh, Melina, from your class.” She started, pointing at Melissa. “Yeah, she was afraid to come to school this morning. Said it looked like “The Shining.” And I don’t even get how she knows that reference.”

“She loves “The Shining,” Melissa stated.

“It’s a classic movie.” Jacob chimed in.

The camera panes Naoya’s way, who looks at them at their movements. ‘Never seen it.’ She mouthed with a shrug of her shoulders.

“This isn’t okay, alright?” Janine stressed. “And I already talked to Mr.Johnson and he said that there isn’t anything he can do.

“What do you want us to do about it?” Barbra asked the girl tiredly.

“I mean, it can’t be hard. It’s just screwing in a few new bulbs.” The small woman stated.

“Janine, just worry about what can be controlled.” Barbra cut her off.

“Exactly.” Melissa agreed. “All we can do on a hot day like this is our own jobs, anyway.”

“I know what’s right,” Ava said as she barged into the room and made her way over to the coffee machine. “Why is it February and hotter than the devil’s booty hole outside?” She asked.

“Climate Change.” Jacob and Naoya said at the same time, causing them to point at one another in recognition while Ava shot both of them a tired look. “We are living in the middle of its disastrous effects. The permafrost in Russia—” He was about to rant before Ava cut him off.

“Nerd.” The woman said between coughs, which sounded more like a laugh. Naoya rolled her eyes while Jacob just turned back to what he was doing.

“Ava.” Janine started, walking up to the woman who was still laughing from her childish joke. “Can someone from the city come and check on the back hallway lights?”

“Girl, no.” The woman answered, her usual judgmental look on her face. “Do I look like the Kool-Aid man?” She asked, halving around the room. Her eyes stopped on Naoya, who raised her eyebrows in question. “Don’t answer that.” She pointed at the woman, who just shrugged it off. “I don’t have enough juice to manipulate the inner workings of city hall.” The principal continued, looking back at Janine and scoffing before making her way out. “They’ll probably come in the summer.” She said as the bell rang.

“I’m the summer?” Janine asked after doing a double take at her words. But the woman was long gone and the others were making their way out of the room to their classes.

“Tough break. Want some egg white bites?” Jacob asked, easing closer to Janine and holding out a plate. The solemn woman looked up at him with a new determination. “No. I don’t have time to eat.” She said before walking out. Jacob was mid-bite when he turned and faced Naoya, who was putting her bag over her shoulder. And before the man could even speak, the woman stopped him. “No, I don’t want your peasant food, Jacob. It’s insulting that you would ask someone as cultured as myself such a question.” She started before strutting out of the break room. Jacob stood there in disbelief.

“It’s just egg white bites, you put them in the microwave.”

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“Janine, what on earth are you doing on that thing?” Naoya asked as she rushed down the hall to the smaller woman who stood on a ladder. She had just come from using the restroom and leaving a class of a bunch of nine to ten-year-olds unattended for even a few seconds could lead to chaos. She didn’t know that chaos would be the grown woman who was the height of a nine to ten-year-old.

“I’m going to fix this broken light.” The woman said determinedly, only a step above the floor in the heightening tool. Naoya made it next to her, seeing the woman wasn’t doing much movement. She placed her hands on her hips, a smug look on her face. “Janine, you are not meant to go to those heights. God gave you your stature for a reason. Plus you’re terrified.”

“I am not terrified.” The woman said, shooting a glance at her. At that, Naoya gave her a knowing look before ushering the woman to go ahead. Janine nodded and looked back at the matter, fear gripping her. She gulped looking back at Naoya. “Okay, I am terrified but I’m gonna do it because I’m on a mission.” She said before carefully making her way up the ladder.

“If this backfires, you buy my dinner,” Naoya asked, after checking in on her classroom through the glass door, seeing them still doing their reading time. At that, Janine gave a confused look to the air, since she was too scared to look down. “Uh, no. This bet is not in my face, at all.”

“Well, at least have some faith in yourself, goodness gracious.”

At that, Janine continued, taking the cover off the lights and continuing to tweak at the wires. “See, look at this. It was just a loose wire.” The woman said, briefly glancing down at the people below her. She then connected the wire with another one, watching as the light stopped flickering. But it didn’t stop for long, the bulbs brightening before bursting in her face.

“Oh!” The woman screamed as she ducked:

“Janine!” Naoya yelled from below her, hosing her arms out in case the woman fell. Instantly, all the rooms were filled with the sounds of confusion and discomfort. The doors opened as the teachers exited.

“Oh, God! Can someone please help me down?” Janine asked, her voice shaking from the fear of the height she was at and the bulb exploding before her.

“And why would we do that since you caused this situation?” Melissa asked as she propped her door open.

“Okay, I didn’t know doing this would cause all the power to go out.” Janie tried to justify, still clutching onto the ladder.

“Well, the power is not all out,” Barbra stated. “It’s on in some places and off in others.”

“It’s off in my room,” Gregory said.

“On in the gym.” The coach said tiredly, slugging up to the group.

“Yeah, it’s off in my room,” Melissa spoke back up. “Thank God we got the A/C or we’d all be meltin’ already.”

“Okay, well before anyone freaks out, the best thing to do in these situations is just stay calm and—” Naoya started as she looked around the group but was silenced by the frantic voice of their terrible and terrified principal.

“Okay! This is it, y'all! The End Times!” The woman said as she rounded the corner in a hurry, a light strapped to her head. “It’s three months early, but it’s happening!” She said, as she closed in on them, giving the closest thing to her a tousle, which happened to be the very thing that was holding Janine up.

“Aah, don’t shake the ladder.” The smaller woman yelled from up top.

“Gregory is the only person that can stay in my bunker, so stop asking.” The crazed principal continued. Naoya’s head jerked back at her words, shocked at the woman’s blatant advancements that were harassment at this point.

“Ava,” Barbra started, holding her arms out in a non-offensive manner to calm the woman. “It is just a partial power outage. Alright, listen up everyone—.”

“Listen to Barbra, y'all!” The doomsday woman yelled, still latched into the latter out of fear.

“Are you kidding me?” Janie asked, clasping at the top of the ladder for support as it shook again.

“This is what we’re gonna do.” Barbra started again. “Everybody without power, please, head to the gym.”

“Head!” Ava chimed in again.

“We will conduct classes there until this is all fixed. It is not ideal—.” She stressed, looking up at the culprit on the ladder. “But it will work.”

“You hear her. Let’s go!” Ava demanded with a nod.

“Guys!” Janie called from the top of the ladder, causing them all to look up at her. “I-I just wanna I-I’m sorry, everybody.” The woman said nervously. “I just thought if I could get up here and get this done then we wouldn’t have to wait and..”

“And look where it landed us, baby girl.” Barbra cut in. “Everybody please head to the gym. We’ve got bigger fish to fry now.”

“Oh, Jesus! My branzino! Everybody out of the way. Out of the way!” Melissa yelled as she sprinted down the hall filled with children.

“Well, if someone can please help me! I feel like I’m one wobble away from death!” Janie begged from where she fluted the top of the ladder. At that, Naoya walked closer, raising her hand to help guide the woman down but was intercepted by Gregory's large arms. The two people glanced at each other, unexpected by the other one's move. Naoya waved her hand, signaling him to help instead. “Thank you,” Jannie said, too spooked to even pay attention to the odd interaction before her. “Okay, give me your hand. Take your time.” Gregory soothed, his large hand latched onto Janine’s. When he was turned away from her, she gave the camera an odd look, scratching the back of her ear. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Okay.” Janine sighed. There was a moment of silence between them all as they waited. “Am I doing it?” Janie asked, just standing there.

“No, honey,” Naoya spoke up, raising an eyebrow at such an odd question.

“Okay, let’s do a count of three.” Janine reiterated, adjusting herself to prepare.

“Okay,” Gregory started. “One, two…three.” He finished and the woman still wasn’t moving. “One more time.” He said.

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“This is all my fault,” Janie said as she looked around the gymnasium at all the students. The shock clock then went off, the constant noise startling Gregory, who paused his class to speak to the woman. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have tried to do the job of a newly graduated DeVry student, but this is okay.” The man sassed, with an awkward smile as she gestured around the room. Melissa was teaching her kids the best she should with something in flashcards, while Barbra was teaching her students to tell time.

Naoya was on the other side of the room, all her students sitting in rows with their eyes closed and taking deep breaths, with her in the front as a group meditation process. She chose this alternative instead of their gym scheduled gym activities, so the kids weren’t accidentally hitting four-year-olds in the head with basketballs.

Janine sighed, going to pick up her phone that pinged. She read the messages she got from Tariq, and that pissed her off even more. Well, it wasn’t helping her attitude for today.

“I made this mess, and I need to fix this.” She said again, looking around at the distressed room of teachers.

“Okay, but fix this how? Gregory asked her. “It seems very outside of your skill set. You should probably just wait for somebody to get to it—.” He tried to reiterate what Barbra had been saying all along and Janine was not having it.

“I don’t want to wait for someone to get to it!” Janine hissed. “You know, our children have needs that deserve to be met. And I’m going to fix this. Nothing is going to get in my way.” She said determined.

“What if you have to climb another ladder?” Gregory finally asked. “Those seem very tricky for you.”

“No.” That was all Janie gave him. “Not today.

Sometime later, the bell rang, signaling to everyone that it was much time.

“Aren’t you going to lunch, Janine?” Melissa asked as she, Barbra, Gregory, and Naoya made their way to the gymnasium doors.

“Uh, no, I’m actually gonna stay and help the lunch ladies with lunch.” The shorter woman tried to find a reasonable excuse.

“The lunch ladies don’t like you, Janine. They never say hello back.” Naoya said, crossing her arms as she looked at the woman across from her. “So, is that what you’re really doing?”

“Yes!” She answered. “And maybe trying to get the lights back on.” She rushed out at the end, hoping no one heard. At that, the two older women groaned.

“Would you give that a rest?” Melissa started. What do you want? To make the whole school blow up?”

“No!” The woman said as she folded her arms. “Plus, I can’t. Luckily the school was built as a bomb shelter in WWII, so…”

“Let it go.” Barbra practically begged the girl before her before she and the rest of the teachers started walking away.

“Okay, I will.” The woman told them, watching them exit. She and Gregory held long eye contact, both knowing the truth deep down. After they were gone, Janine looked back down at her phone, not paying attention to her friends next to her.

“You’re not gonna let it go, are you?” Jacob spoke up.

“No, I’m not gonna let it go, Jacob, okay?” She said, giving the two of them a look. “I need to right my wrongs.”

“Okay, we’ll count me out.” He said, waving her off.

“I never counted you in,” Janine said to him, confused about where he got that from.

“Well, then count me in.” He restated. “Because I don’t have any lunch plans.”

“Okay.” She sighed. She then looked at the woman next to him, her purse on her shoulder. “Weren’t you going to lunch?” She asked.

“You owe me lunch, remember? Your plan backfired.” She reminded the woman from earlier with a shrug. Janine sighed, turning away from them and walking, knowing they would follow. “That’s not how bets work, Naoya. Both people have to agree.”

“That’s how my bets work and you owe me food, woman!”

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“This is just like the one in my apartment, this is going to be easy,” Janine stated as the three of them made their way to the breaker box that was in the custodian closet. “Me and Tariq have to go in that thing like three times a month.” She said them behind her, Jacob holding the flashlight above her head.

“Maybe you should move.” The man suggested.

“Yeah. Tariq says he is “practicing” his credit score.” Janine struggled out and she pushed to get the metal box open. “Apparently 380 isn’t a good—.” She continued to struggle, her words getting lost in her. “Let me try,” Naoya said as she softly nudged the smaller woman out of the way. She gave the box a pull and the thing popped open. She turned and smiled at the two. “I loosened it,” Jannie said, trying to save face.

“Sure, Jan,” Naoya said, going back to looking in the box. “Oh..” she said, looking at the jumbled mess of wires and switches.

“Oh, no,” Janie said, looking at the same thing. “Don’t touch. Not even a little bit.” She read out loud, giving the camera a certain look. “Uh, okay. What’s that say?”

“End of the Road? It’s so hard to say goodbye?” Naoya read out loud, looking at the labels next to some of the switches. “What? Motownphil—These are Boyz II Men songs.” She deadpanned, turning to the rest of them.

“Why?” Jannie asked, moving to stand in front of the box herself.

Jacob chuckled. “It’s ironic ‘cause I’m on Bended Knee.” He joked, giving the camera a brief look. Naoya genuinely snickered while Janie just laughed awkwardly. “Heh. Okay.” She said before going back to the wires. “Oh God, why is that one hot?” Offering them a glance of concern. “Let me try this one.” She said and just a flip of a switch caused a giant spark to erupt, the trio screamed and jumped back to dodge the sparks as best as they could.

“What in the world.”

“What going on?”

Melissa and Barba exclaimed as she entered the hot and dark school building with children running around. “It’s so hot I’m gonna frizz.” Just then, Janie and Jacob came out of the appliance closet, their hair a mess from the static they endured. The three teachers who left for lunch automatically knew who the culprit for everything was.

“Janine! What did you do?!” Barbra asked, quite fed up with the younger woman. “Looking like ‘who shot John.’”

“Barbra, look, I know you told me to let it go, but I couldn’t. Jacob and Naoya—.” At that, she looked back to see where the woman was but she was nowhere to be found. “Jacob helped me open the breaker.” She was quick to accuse.

“I ran away as soon as the sparks started flying. I was looking out for myself.” The woman shrugged as she leaned against the wall next to her. “Plus, I wasn’t about to get yelled at by Barb for this whole mess.”

“It was a chance to support a strong Black woman.” The man next to her breathed out, in a state of shock, quite literally.

“The breaker?!” Melissa asked. “Janine! You can’t do this stuff! What had you come to work today and lose your mind?”

“Look, I—.” She tried to find something to say. “I just have—she gulped—I feel lightheaded.” She said as she swayed.

“Ohh, okay,” Barbra said worriedly as they all closed in on the smaller girl.

“Did you eat today, because I know you didn’t have lunch,” Melissa asked the girl worriedly.

“And you didn’t have any breakfast,” Jacob stated, his tone showing his concern for the woman’s wellbeing. Janine couldn’t even say anything, her balance was off and her mind was delirious.

“Okay, we’re losing her,” Melissa yelled, easing up on the girl. “Do I have your consent to slap you?” At that, Janine fell backward into Gregory’s arms just as Ava and Naoya rounded the corner. “There she goes,” Melissa said over the shocked screams of her colleagues. “She’s out.”

“Yall feel this heat?” Ava asked, just now seeing the sight of the woman on the floor before her. “Oh my God! She’s pale like a zombie! You know, they eat the hottest people first, let me back my tasty ass up.” Ava said, going back to where she came from down the hall. At her stupid words, Naoya was tempted to follow her but snapped out of it when she saw Janine on the floor.

“Uh, okay! I’m gonna go see if I can get some water out of the fridge. Hopefully, it’s still cold.” Naoya said before running off.

“Oh my God, my branzino!” Melissa yelled, moving to push Barb back.” “Excuse me, Barb. She’ll be okay!” She yelled as she pushed the older woman out of her way and jumped over the unconscious woman.

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Once Janine woke up from her little coma, the coach told her that all the kids and teachers were outside. She walked out to see all of them playing in the water that was sprouting from the fire hydrants while the teachers lunged in chairs. “Oh, look who’s back in the land of the living,” Melissa said once she saw the small woman exit the school.

“Who opens the fire hydrant?” Janine asked

“Well, as Melissa would say, snitches get stitches,” Barbra said.

“It was Naoya,” Jacob whispered to his shorter friend, pointing over at said woman who was playing in the water with the children. She had her bat at her side, leaning her weight on it as she splashed the kids who came near her to throw water her way.

“That is correct.” Melissa started again. “But I am not talking to you on account of you killing my branzino.” She said, before leaning back in her seat. Barbra gave her a look and cleared her throat. Melissa looked at the woman from under her shades and sighed a little before sitting back up. Barbra then got up from her seat, allowing Janine to take it.

“So that’s it, huh?” Janine asked, looking around at the kids. “I , uh, gave it my all, passed out, and ruined the school day?”

“Oh, you tanked,” Melissa told her. “You tanked Janine. You took the whole school down with you. It was impressive.” She pressed, knowing she was pushing the woman’s buttons.

“Look, I know. I should’ve stopped. I’m sorry.” Janine sighed. “I just felt so bad when I saw that look on Melina’s face this morning.”

“You don’t think it kills us to see those faces in the morning?” Melissa asked her. “What, are we made of stone? You’re not the first person to feel things, kid. We care.”

It was silent for a moment as Janine thought over the woman’s words. “How do you and Barbra stop yourselves from caring too much if that’s a thing.”

“Because it’s the opposite.” Melissa smiled at the girl as she took off her shades. “We care so much we refuse to burn out. If we burn out, who’s here for these kids? That’s who you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, what’s with you today Nini?” Both women jumped at the sound of Naoya’s voice, while the woman just stood behind them with her bat. “You’re normally bananas, but…” She trailed off, waving at the girl's aura.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just some stuff at home, I think.” Janine shrugged with an answer.

“Oh, okay,” Melissa said with a nod. “See, that’s the other thing me and Barbra learned. All that at-home stuff—you gotta leave it at the door. Otherwise, you open up a whole nother Panera’s box of problems.”

“I think you mean Pandora’s box,” Naoya told the woman sitting in front of her.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s Panera’s box.” She nodded, while Janine and Naoya both gave the camera a look.

Later on that day, Naoya was in her room in the process of changing the clothes she had on into some that she kept in her closet. She enjoyed playing in the water with the kids but she was not going to go home wet. As she was in the process of changing, she got a phone call. Looking down at her phone, she saw the contact and quickly answered the phone.

“Hello, Adona.” The girl sighed into the phone as she pulled a new shirt over her head.

“Oh, well don’t sound so pleased.” The feminine voice over the phone said to her. Naoya rolled her eyes, as she opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out a plastic store bag. She offered the camera a glance, knowing they were probably thinking as to why she kept so many plastic bags in her drawer. But all she could offer them now was a shrug as the voice over the phone continued.

“Anyways, how are you?”

“What do you want, Adona?” Naoya spat, stuffing her semi-wet clothes into the plastic bag.

“What? I can’t see how my own sister is doing?” The woman said over the phone, the hurt in their voice obviously sarcastic.

“No, but I know you. And I know that you only call when you need money. Money for something other than your child.” The younger girl snapped over the phone. All she got in response was a sigh and some shuffling from the other end.

“You know, you don't have to rub it in.” Adona started, and Naoya rolled her eyes at the woman’s words, knowing this conversation was about to go to the argument they always had. “This all would have been so much easier if the rest of us weren’t left out of her will.”

“That’s not my fucking fault, Adona. I tell you that every time you call. Do you think I want the burden of you and the others calling me every month for some fucking bill for me to pay? Not to ask how I’m doing?” Naoya spat at her sister over the phone. She could feel her eyes start to sting, she was never the best at arguing when it came to her family. She’d been called sensitive all her life and it rang true every time she talked to her siblings.

“ “The others”? That’s what you call us? You’re family?” That was all Adona could say back. Naoya rolled her eyes and let out a scoff, pulling the phone away from her face as she sniffed and held her head back, trying to stop her tear flow. After only a few quick seconds, she brought the phone back to her face. “Uh, I can already see where this is going, so I’m gonna end it here. Just send the amount and I’ll talk to you some other time. Take care.” She said before pressing the red button on her screen to end the call.

She placed her phone in her back pocket and moved around her room to gather her things, trying her best to occupy her mind from what just ensued. She was so in her head that she forgot the cameras were there. And she didn’t hear the voice of Gregory at her door.

“Naoya?” He called out to her.

She looked up at the sound of his voice as she placed her things into her bag. “Oh, Hello Gregory.” She smiled, her face showing none of the emotions she was feeling.

“You’ve eaten?” He asked, just standing in the doorway of her classroom.

“Uh, no, actually. Janine was supposed to buy me lunch because I bet that her plan would backfire.” The woman said as she placed her things in her arms. At that, Gregory gave her a questioning look. Naoya raised her hands in surrender. “I know, I sound like a terrible friend. But it’s not that I don’t believe in Janine, I just know how to black a bet. Get it from my father.” The girl shrugged. She and Gregory both laughed lightly. And when it died down, they just started at one another, the air between them oddly peaceful.

“But, uh, are you offering?” She asked, looking at the man before her.

“Uh, yeah. I was going to ask Janine too.” He said, pointing his thumb in the direction of the said woman’s room.

“Cool! Let’s go.” She said with a genuine smile, causing the man to smile at her as well. They walked out and over to Janine’s room, where it looked like the woman was doing something on her phone. Gregory knocked on her door to get her attention. “Hey.” He said.

“Hey,” Jaimie said, looking at the two.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Oh. No. The um, lunch lady gave me that can of peaches but no can opener, so, no.” She chuckled, pointing at the can on her desk.

“What? No fair! You’re so lucky. Well, besides the whole can opener situation. ” Naoya said jokingly.

“Alright, we’ll, you wanna go get something to eat? With me?” Gregory said before Naoya lightly cleared her throat. “With us?” Gregory was quick to reiterate. Naoya nodded, offering the slightly flustered older man a brief look.

“Oh,” Janine said, looking between the two. “I was gonna wait for my boyfriend to finish his show to eat…” She said. Naoya nodded at her words, understanding where she was coming from. Well, understanding as best as she could because she’d never wait to eat for a man. But maybe that was love. She caught the way Gregory’s posture changed at Janin’s words out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t say anything but she did give me a crazy side-eye, hoping he noticed.

“But…no.” The shorter woman started back up with a laugh. “I’m hungry now, so I should eat now, right?”

“That’s typically how hunger works, yeah.” Gregory played along.

“Right! Normal people eat at normal times, like…4:00.” She said, pointing over at the clock on her wall.

“Yeah. All true.” Gregory said with a nod before smiling. “So, let’s go eat.”

“Let’s. Okay.” Janine said with an equally large smile before moving to grab her things. At that, Naoya turned around to head out the door, not wanting to be in the middle of an obvious love fest. She gave the cameras outside a knowing look, a large smirk on her face.

Seconds later, the two of them walked out of the room, Naoya joining them to go down the hall. On their way, they ended up meeting Jacob.

“Oh, hey guys, what up?” The man said.

“We’re just headed to get something to eat,” Gregory answered.

“Oh, great, I’ll join.” The man just inserted himself, not catching the looks thrown his way by the three. “After school crew.” He continued.

“Ooh, “After School Crew.” I like that.” Janine smiled. They all ended up stopping at the lights coming on within the school. They looked over to see Mr.Johnson in the supply closet, standing next to the breaker machine in his fishing gear.

“You touch the lights, didn’t you, Janine?” He asked, shooting an accusatory look the woman’s way.

“Yes,” Janine answered with a defeated look.

“Good thing I got me a system.” The man told her, flicking the breaker box closed. “I’ll make love to you. Like you want me to.” He continued to sing. This caused them to all sigh and continue walking. Naoya stayed behind, a fond smile on her lips as she watched the old man. When he caught the sight of the woman still there, he paused and looked at her.

“You have a good fishing trip?” She asked the man, crossing her arms over another. The man looked at the girl kind of shocked that she asked and that she knew.

“Yeah. Yeah, I actually did.” He said, offering her a smile of his own. Naoya nodded at his words before walking away, following the crew that left her. Mr.Johnson looked at the spot she left, a fond smile on his face as she continued to sing the song.

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.



“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

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“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

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

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

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

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

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

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

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

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

“You alright?” he asks.

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

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

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

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

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

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

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

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

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

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

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

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

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be careful, Tim.”

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

“Right.”

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

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

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

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

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

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

“He’s not,” you agree.

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

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

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

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

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

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

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

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

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

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

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings. 

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

✯✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles. 

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms. 

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks. 

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out. 

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone. 

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible address in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

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

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

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!"

Whatever happens (Tim Bradford x F!Wife!Reader)

Summary: do to your work as a high ranking national security officer you and Tim get taken hostage in your own house

Warnings: : torture, not descriptive but is listed what happened. Misogyny and sexism (not from tim), hospitals, kidnap, canon violence

Notes:

Sorry for the grammatical errors. I’m new at writing so feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading. do not translate or appropriate my work

Comments and kudos are highly appreciated :)

words: 2500

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You unlock the door and enter your house. Tim is already out of uniform, and he is cooking dinner in the open space kitchen. You drop your bag on the floor next to the door as you sigh, tired from the long day. As one of the top-ranking officers of the National Defense some days were really exhausting to say the least. At least you now could relax at home with your husband

‘hey. I thought I would get started on dinner’ he says as he puts on the stove, giving you a hint of a smile to greet you, something that is reserved to you and only you

‘did I tell you that you are the best husband in the world?’ you ask him with complete appreciation as you give him a quick kiss

‘from time to time’ he teases you as he smirks

‘you are. I’m starving. And it was my turn to cook’ you tell him seriously as you place your hands around his neck as he places his on your waist. He kisses you again, now more properly

‘well you can always show your appreciation later’ he teases you again as you roll your eyes lovingly at him ‘deal’ you tell him as you peck him again before you throw your heels out of the way

‘long day?’ he asks as he lets you go to stir the rice

‘the longest’ you reply as you start to set up the table ‘we fear there has been a breakthrough of info on undercover agents and they put me as head  of operation to make sure they are safe, I need to check each of them’ you sigh

‘well that sounds exhausting’ he replies honestly

 ‘your day?’ you ask

‘some standard arrests. And lucy passed my Tim test today.’ He replies as he start putting the food on the plates

‘tim tests? Can’t you leave that poor boot alone?’ you playfully make fun of him as you sit down

‘be careful or you are going to be Tim tested too’ he says pointing the spatula at you

‘you wouldn’t’ you tell him faking shock ‘I’m your wife’

‘don’t test me’ he replies hiding a smile ‘come on. the food is ready’ he says as he moves towards the table with the meal in his hand. But before he places it on the table the room gets filled with smoke and he feels something in his neck, a narcotic that makes him faint instantly as you do too while he calls your name.

-.-.-.

You wake up tied to a chair in your home’s office. Two men stand in front of you

‘hello y/n’ they tell you ‘had a good sleep?’ they mock you

‘who are you and what do you want’ you ask. This is not your first kidnap

‘straight to the point I see. We want the real name of the undercover agents’ they tell you playing with a knife

‘I don’t have them. They are classified’ you reply

‘and that is the first lie of the night. Our intel says only one person has all of the names, and that is you’

You maintain your calm wondering how they know it. ‘I don’t’ you reply as you asses the situation. You are chained to the chair. Is impossible to break free

‘okay let’s see if your memory starts to work after we are finished with you’ they tell you before punching you in the face

-.-.-.-.-.

Are the screams that wake Tim up. your screams. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he is still in his living room and that the screams he is hearing are your screams.

‘y/n!’ he shouts ‘leave her alone!’. but is useless. He is not even tied, he is chained to a metal chair. He mentally curses himself and your shared love for design, at least if it were a wooden chair he could have tried to free himself. He assesses the situation. he is a cop, he was a sergeant in the army , he should know how to get out of any situation. he needs to help you. His wife is being tortured and he is without a scratch and unable to help you

He tries for more than two hours to free himself, trying to not think about what they are doing to you as your screams get progressively worse

Tim is kind of scared of how you held up, how you did not say anything as they tortured you. He knew you were strong, but this, this is almost inhumane.

The screams stops and he fears the worst.

The door suddenly opens and the two men bring you in. he has the first glimpse of you since they took you. tim can’t almost recognize you. Your face is too puffy and full of blood. They had beaten you up, for hours. Tim also notices that some of your limbs don’t look right. The two men throw you on the floor. You are still passed out. Your hands tied together behind you.

His hearts start beating again only when he sees a feeble movement of your chest going up and down. You are alive.

Tim’s blood boils in his veins. Flashbacks of the last time he has seen you like this passes through his mind. more than 10 years ago, when you were both in the army and you got taken hostage for days. He still doesn’t know all of what had happened to you during the captivity, you never talked about it apart from some info then and there. He had killed who did that to you, heading the rescue mission. He had a lot of remorse for what he witnessed in the army but never for that. Now he wanted to do the same to these two men who had entered his house and tortured his wife. Damn the consequences

‘son of a bitch what did you do to her’ he says in anger as he tries in vain to move

‘don’t worry big guy. She is alive. I must say this bitch is strong. Broke more than 20 bones in her body one by one and still has not given a name’

Scratch that. Tim doesn’t want to kill them. He wants to break each and every bone of his body and more. He wants to inflict them 10 times what they did to you.

‘I’ll fucking kill you’ he says rage in his eyes

‘what a knight with a shiny armor. A bit difficult considering your situation right now.’ The guy mocks him

The man takes some water and throws it in your face to have you woke up, it works as you stir. He throws more at you before giving you a kick. Tim tries to move from his chair and the man laughs at him

‘tim’ is your first word as you try to find him, your eye focus still blurry from the blood and the puffiness until you see him, just a bruise on his face, his eyes blurry with tears for you and anger against them. You sigh in relief

‘are you okay?’ he asks his voice almost breaking, he knows he sounds stupid as you clearly are not but he needs to have a verbal confirmation

‘yah’ you say as you spit blood. Tim doesn’t believe you

‘sleeping beauty is awake’ the man says taking your face in his hand roughly to throw you on the floor again

Tim flinches

‘as torturing your body did not work we will try with a psychological torturing. let’s see if your so little to nonexistent self-preserving instinct applies also to others’ the man says pointing his head towards tim

Your biggest fear comes true. Tim is going to suffer because of you.

‘tell me the real names of the undercover agents or I make him my own punching ball’ the kidnapper says pointing to tim

Tim stays silent looking in your eyes saying with them ‘don’t’. you spit some blood and stay silent. Your heart breaking as you just basically agreed for the man to torture your husband

‘well then’ the man says as he punches tim. You look away. The other man grabs your face again and forces you to look as He punches tim again and again . tim tries to not react, knowing that if the situation was reversed he would give in immediately at the sight if you suffering. He tries to be strong for you, to not have you give in to the blackmail

‘okay clearly you don’t care enough’ the man says as he pauses his assault on tim.  ‘who is this one anyhow’ he asks as tim too spits some blood, his face now too puffy and bruised.

‘no one important. The local supermarket delivery guy. He was just dropping my food delivery’ you lie through your teeth

Tim knows you are saying that to protect him, to not have them use him as leverage more than they are already doing, but it hurts anyhow

‘no one important? Hum. There are quite a few pictures of this delivery guy around here’ the kidnapper says as his partner picks up and passes to him a photo of you and tim where you two are kissing

‘no way, this is your bitch?’ the man asks tim connecting the dots

‘don’t call her that’ tim replies his anger violent

‘tim’ you warn him, knowing his rage will only harm him

‘oh I see. You are her bitch’ the man says pointing at tim ‘this changes everything’ the man says to his partner laughing ‘if torture on her won’t work let’s see how she reacts when her man is the one being tortured’

The second kidnapper picks up the boiling hot knife he had been warming up and passes it to the leader who shows you the knife before going towards tim

‘don’t tell them anything’ tim tells you dead serious ‘I can handle it. I promise’

The kidnapper burns tim and cuts him, when he breaks his leg you scream. Tim still tells you to not speak as you start to cry but remain silent.

‘I see. We have a fellow hero here’ the man mocks tim, now bloody almost as you

‘ I didn’t expect this to be this difficult. I will give you that. Okay now time to stop the games’ he says taking out a gun and pointing it to tim ‘speak or I put a bullet between his eyes’

‘y/n don’t tell him anything, I am just one person’ tim says trying to convince you. He is a  cop his job is to protect people. His life counts less than the one of the undercover agents.

‘you choose y/n’ the man mocks you ‘300 agents or the man you love’

‘please-‘  you plead them. The man puts the gun on tim’s forehead

‘last chance’ he says as he charges the gun while tim mouths ‘I love you’ as he closes his eyes waiting for the inevitable end

‘okay okay I will tell you!’ you shout ‘But please let him go.’  You plead them

‘see? It wasn’t that difficult’ the man replies as he drops the gun from tim’s head

‘Let’s make a deal I will voluntary come with you, I will be a valuable hostage, but let him go. Please I beg you’ you continue. You don’t care what happens to you, you just want to save tim and the agents

‘y/n quit the crap don’t-‘ tim says as the man punches him to shut him up before laughing

‘the great y/n y/l/n the youngest  director of Internal Security Special Unit  and one of the top ranking National Defence officers is begging me? Wow. and all for him? a woman is a woman after all, he must fuck you well’ the guy mocks you, while the other laughs

Tim is boiling in rage at the blunt sexism and insults of the man in front of you. You don’t care anymore, you will do whatever it takes to get Tim out

‘please let him go’ you plead him again

‘nah. This is more fun. Speak now or never’ he tells you

‘don’t  tell them’ tim says pleading you with his eyes

‘3 … 2 …’ the man starts counting the gun barrell at tim’s forehead. tim takes in your face for what he thinks will be his last time. He wants to take in every detail of you even if you are so bruised and broken, to him you are still the most beautiful person. As the man reaches two he closes his eyes

‘John Lawrence!’ you scream before he can count to one.

‘perfect. Here we go. See it was easy’ the kidnapper mocks you as tim opens his eyes in defeat, as you can’t bring yourself to look at him

You list all the people taking the longest time possible to hope they will come rescue. You want to buy time, knowing that when the list is done not only the agents will be dead but also you and tim.

Yet Inevitably the list comes to an end

‘thank you very much. Betraying your country and 300 people for one single man’

You keep your head low knowing you just sentenced to death 300 agents.

The man points the gun towards you ‘kill me but spare him please’ you say having given up on your fate but hoping you will still be able to save tim

Tim flinches in his seat at your plead.  ‘she told you what you wanted let us go now’ tim says

‘and let you stop our operation? No way’

‘by the time they find us you will already have done it’ tim tries to make him reason

‘you know what? You are right. I will not kill you’ the man says as he turns

He shoots you in the stomach as tim screams your name and you can’t even cling to your stomach as your hands are tied ‘I will let you die of blood loss so that you can stare at his corpse knowing it is your fault’

He then points the gun to tim’s head

‘no! please!’ you shout

‘its okay sweatheart. I love-‘ tim says looking at you

As you hear the gun shot you close your eyes screaming but then you hear tim’s voice calling your name. you open your eyes as you see the SWAT entering the house and killing the two intruders before you pass out

-.-.-

Tim wakes up in a hospital bed, Lucy goes next to him in a second

‘tim! How are you?’ she asks him

‘y/n. where is y/n’ he asks frenetic looking around ‘tim…’ lucy tries

‘where is my wife!’ he shouts at his rookie. ‘next room but tim-‘ she tries, he doesn’t care he gets of the hospital bed falling down as he realizes that is leg is still broken after all

‘tim- you shouldn’t get up-‘ lucy tries to make him reason as she goes to help him

‘help me or leave!’ he says his eyes look like pure fire she nods as she helps him up and to walk next room where you are staying

Angela, who was sitting next to you, stands up seeing him ‘tim-‘

Tim freezes when he sees you. You are in a bed, more casts on your limbs that he can count. Your face is still swollen even if now is clear from the blood, tubes come and go out of you, one is even in your mouth.

‘y/n’ he sighs. Lucy and angela help him to the chair next to your bed. He sits down and takes your only non-casted hand in his

‘how is she?’ he asks them looking at your broken form, eyes lucid

Angela and lucy exchange a look before Angela speaks ‘the doctor said the situation was critical. Both her legs, her arms and one hand are broken. She had a concussion from the beating and lost a lot of blood, but the gun shot did not damage any major organ’

‘is she-‘ he is afraid to ask as the words die in his throat

‘yes she is in a coma. They are positive that she is going to wake up.’ Angela says

‘when‘ he asks as a knot forms in his throat

‘they don’t know‘ lucy replies as tim just nods never taking his eyes off you

‘the intruders?’ he asks now voice plain and cold

‘they were killed in the rescue operation. Any info they might have gotten never made it to their associates’ angela says, careful to not say or insinuate that you indeed told them something or in this case everything

‘they should have suffered more’ tim says as lucy and angela exchange a look

‘tim you should be resting. You have a broken leg and a minor concussion, and bruises and burns everywhere…’ lucy tries to make him reason

‘leave’ he only replies voice flat

 ‘tim…’ angela tries

 ‘leave!’ he shouts looking at them and they do leave. He turns again towards you worry and regret consuming him

He places your hand in both his as he kisses it before placing his forehead on it.

And for the first time in years tim bradford cries

She's my wife

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Tim Bradford x wife!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are Tim's wife and join him to the station for the day, looking for a Metro recruit.

Fluff

A/N: I loooove this, I start to love writing fluff. Thank you for this request. I have so many ideas and I don't know where to start. Also, I'm looking forward to your requests. Thank you for your support and your feedback is more than welcomed and appreciated! Have a wonderful day, bubs and enjoy this story! Lots of love

Warnings: None, pure fluff, not proofread yet

Requested: Yes! Words: 3.8k Photo not mine, credits to the owner @renegadesstuff !

The familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink hits you as soon as you step through the doors of the station. It's been years since you last set foot in that place, but the memories come rushing back with startling clarity. The station hasn't changed much—it's still a hive of activity, with officers rushing to and fro, phones ringing off the hook, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the halls.

As you make your way through the bustling room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This place holds so many memories for you—the late nights spent poring over case files, the adrenaline-fueled chases through the city streets, the quiet moments of comradery with your fellow officers. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as ever.

You pause for a moment to take it all in, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bullpen, with its rows of desks and cluttered bulletin boards, holds a special place in your heart. It's where you once stood as a training officer, guiding rookies through their first days on the job.

Tim Bradford was your favorite and a handful from the start—a troubled rookie who struggled to follow orders and grasp the basics of the job. You remember the frustration of trying to teach him the ropes, the countless hours spent drilling him on the rookie book, only for him to push back and resist at every turn.

You remember the determination in Tim's eyes, the way he refused to give up even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And despite his rebellious nature, there was something about him—a spark of raw talent and an unwavering sense of loyalty—that set him apart from the rest.

But amidst the nostalgia, there's a sense of purpose driving you forward. You're here on official business, after all— you were sent there to find a new recruit to join Metro. And while part of you wishes you could stay lost in the memories of the past, another part knows that you have a job to do.

You're greeted by familiar faces at every turn. The joy radiating from your former colleagues as they see you again warms your heart, and you can't help but return their smiles with genuine affection.

Among the crowd, you notice Tim watching you from across the room, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. You shoot him a reassuring smile, silently promising to explain everything later.

Lucy stands beside Tim, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Who's that?" she whispers to Tim, nodding in your direction.

Tim's brow furrows for a moment as he studies you, then he turns back to Lucy with a shrug. "That's Y/N," he answers simply. "She works with Metro."

Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Tim. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Tim gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "No clue," he replies, though a hint of curiosity lingers in his tone. "Maybe she's just passing through."

As Tim watches you from across the room, a wave of warmth washes over him. Seeing you here, in the midst of his workplace, brings back a flood of memories—of late-night patrols, of shared laughter, of the bond you forged as rookie and TO. Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, his attention is drawn solely to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your beauty.

It's an understatement that he adores you. He loves you with every breath, every heart beat and he couldn't get enough of you. Since you were recruited for Metro, he missed you every shift, longing for you to make his duties more bearable.

There's a softness in his eyes as he approaches, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the secrecy surrounding your relationship, seeing you there fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the station, all that matters is the connection you share—a bond that transcends the boundaries of your professional lives.

"Hey there," he greets you warmly, "What are you doing here?"

Seeing him there, in his element, reminds you of the journey you've taken together—from a rookie and his training officer to partners in both crime and love.

You return Tim's smile with one of your own, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by and say hi," you reply casually, purposely avoiding his question. "How's your day been?"

There's a twinkle in your eye as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the love and understanding that binds you together. Despite the complexities of your situation, there's an unspoken agreement between you—a shared understanding of the sacrifices you've made for the sake of your relationship.

Tim chuckles at your playful evasion, rolling his eyes. "Smooth as always," he replies, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"

You feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at Tim with exaggerated sweetness. "You know I can't tell you." you tease, knowing full well that your response will only fuel his curiosity further.

Tim lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, keep your secrets," he says with a playful grin. "But just remember, I know where you sleep at night."

You laugh at his playful threat, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it," you reply with a wink, before turning your attention to Lucy, who's been watching the exchange with interest.

A curious expression played on her face as Tim takes the opportunity to introduce you. "Officer Chen, meet Y/N," he says, gesturing to you with a fond smile. "She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if you ignore her, she's ok."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy," you say, your tone friendly and inviting as you offered Lucy a warm smile, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you."

Lucy returns your smile, her curiosity piqued. "Nice to meet you," she replies, shaking your hand. "How do you know Tim, if you don't mind me asking?"

You glance at Tim with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, a playful smirk playing at your lips. "Oh, you know," you reply cryptically, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim. "We go way back. Let's just say he owes me a few favors."

Tim lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well that you're enjoying teasing him. "Don't listen to her, Chen," he says with a chuckle.

"You should listen to me if you want to survive him." you winked at his rookie " I created the monster and I'm the only one who knows how to defeat him."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up in mock indignation, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey now, watch it," he retorts, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, she doesn't need any help from you."

You laugh at Tim's exaggerated reaction, shooting him a knowing look. "Oh, I'm sure Lucy can handle herself just fine," you reply with a wink, earning a chuckle from Lucy.

"Wait–" the rookie began as realisation hits "You are Tim's TO?"

You glanced at your husband, smiling brightly as he put his grumpy expression on, "Guilty as charged."

As Lucy's eyes widen in shock and excitement, she can barely contain her enthusiasm. Her mind is racing with questions as she tries to process the realization that she's standing face-to-face with the legendary training officer.

The rookie turns to Tim, her expression incredulous. "You never mentioned her before!" she exclaims.

Tim crossed his arms above his chest, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Because my life is none of your business, Officer Chen," he retorts.

She faced you with a barrage of questions, her enthusiasm didn't wane, "What was Tim like as a rookie? I heard he wasn't so keen on following orders, is it true?"

You smiled at her, starting to like her more and more. She's definitely giving Tim a hard time. What you know from Tim and seeing her so curious and exited, you knew she has what it takes to be a successful cop.

Before you can respond, Tim interrupts, his irritation growing by the second. "Alright, that's enough, Chen," he barks, his tone firm and commanding. "Shop, now!"

"Yes, sir."

Lucy's excitement fades as she reluctantly obeys Tim's orders, shooting you an apologetic look before hurrying off to prepare for the patrol. As she disappears from view, Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, the grumpiness lifting slightly as he turns back to you.

"She seems nice," you comment, nodding towards where Lucy disappeared. "She's a good kid."

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair as he considers your words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "I know, and I know that sometimes a little kindness goes a long way," you say gently. "She'll appreciate it in the long run."

As Tim gazes at you, a mixture of admiration and gratitude flickers in his eyes. He's more than just a grumpy, hard-to-please man—he's a devoted husband, a dedicated cop, and a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there's a vulnerability in his gaze.

The sun filters through the windows of the station, its golden rays dance across Tim's face, casting a warm glow that accentuates his rugged features. He appears even more handsome in this moment, his chiseled jawline and piercing gaze illuminated by the soft light.

His sandy blonde hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo of golden warmth around his head. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften in the gentle light, revealing a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

As Tim searched your face, you're bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the sunlight highlighting the delicate contours of your face and the warmth of your smile. Your eyes, a mesmerizing shade, sparkle with mischief and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

He peaked around at the officers, everyone minding their business, before he leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, a gentle yet insistent pressure that ignites a fire deep within your soul.

As the kiss deepens, you feel his other hand slide around your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you melt into his embrace.

His lips move against yours with a hunger that matches your own, each kiss a testament to the love and longing that burns between you. There's a raw intensity to his touch, a desperate need to be as close to you as humanly possible.

For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as you respond eagerly, your heart racing as you lean into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Despite its brevity, the intensity of the moment leaves you dizzy with desire, longing for more even as you reluctantly pull away.

Before the moment can linger, Tim's attention is drawn to something behind you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you realize that Lucy is watching from afar, a curious expression on her face, sided by her mouth forming an "o" shape filled with surprise.

Tim's lips curl into a wry smile as he leans in to murmur in your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like we've got a little shadow," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's gonna be a pain in my ass all day!"

You laugh softly at Tim's comment, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you did sign up for this when you became her TO," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just be nice, okay? She's just curious."

Tim rolls his eyes at your advice, but there's a hint of affection in his gaze as he gazes at you. "Fine, I'll try to play nice," he concedes with a grin. "But no promises if she starts asking too many questions."

As your husband heads off for patrol with Lucy, you find yourself seated across from Sergeant Grey in his office, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the precinct. His office is tidy yet lived-in, with stacks of paperwork neatly organized on his desk and a few personal mementos scattered about—a photo of his family, a commendation plaque from his years of service.

Wade offers you a warm smile as you settle into your seat, "Y/N, it's been a while. Think the last time I saw you was at your wedding?"

You nod in agreement, "It hasn't been that long. But you know Metro, it keeps me busy."

"Well, it's always a pleasure to have you around." Sergeant Grey's words of praise for your time as an officer at the station warm your heart, "You were one of the best we had," he continues, sincerity evident in his tone. "It's a shame to lose you to Metro."

As the conversation progresses, you take a deep breath before broaching the subject of your visit. "Sir, I'm here on official business," you explain, your tone serious. "Metro is recruiting, and I'm here to find the best officer for the job."

Grey nods in understanding, "I see. And do you have anyone in mind?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.

You hesitate for a moment before responding. "Actually, I do," you admit, your gaze meeting his. "I think Officer Bradford would be the best fit for Metro."

He considers your words for a moment before responding. "I have to say, I agree with you, Tim would make an excellent addition to Metro."

There's a hint of hesitation in your eyes as he speaks, and you can tell that he senses there's more to your recommendation than meets the eye. "Is there something else on your mind, Y/N?" he asks, his tone gentle but probing.

You paused, choosing your words carefully before responding. "Well, sir, it's just... I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to recommend Tim," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want it to seem like a conflict of interests."

You found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions. There's a deep-rooted sense of pride your work, coupled with a genuine desire to see Tim succeed in his career.

"Trust me, Y/N, Officer Bradford's qualifications speak for themselves." he leaned back on his chair, "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it from here. We both know you and Tim keep your private life apart, and I'll make sure Metro knows this decision is based solely on Tim's achievements."

Sergeant Grey's words sink in, a rush of relief floods through you, washing away some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at your nerves. It's comforting to know that your integrity as an officer won't be called into question, that your personal connection with Tim won't overshadow his merits.

With a grateful smile, you nod in appreciation, the knot of worry in your stomach loosening with each word he speaks. "Thank you, Sir."

"Now go find your husband!"

In the dimly lit interior of the shop, the tension between Tim and Lucy was palpable. Lucy's curiosity burned bright, fueled by suspicions and unanswered questions.

"So..." Lucy ventured, breaking the uneasy silence. "I saw you and Y/N kissing, back at the station. Is she your girlfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the inquiry, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That's none of your business, Chen," he shot back, his tone gruff.

Lucy persisted, undeterred by his dismissive tone. "Come on, Tim," she pressed. "You can't just brush this off. I obviously know there's something going on between you two."

But Tim remained stoic, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I said it's none of your business," he repeated, his voice terse.

Lucy gaze lingered on him, studying his face. She couldn't read anything but irritation caused by her intrusion into his private life. She searched his hands, no sight of any ring, so the possibility of you being his wife dropped.

"Do you like her?" she insisted.

"What's the proper procedure for securing a crime scene?" he replied to her question, avoiding giving any details about you.

"Come on. You can't avoid this forever. Are you and her just colleagues, or is there something more?"

Tim's irritation simmers beneath the surface, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He had hoped to avoid this line of questioning, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. But Lucy's relentless curiosity had pushed him to his breaking point.

"What's the recommended procedure for securing a firearm during an arrest?"

She couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, knowing deep down that Tim wouldn't give her the answers she sought. Despite her best efforts to uncover the truth about Tim's relationship with you, she found herself hitting a dead end.

"I saw the way you look at her. You have feelings for her?"

"When searching a suspect, what areas of their body should you prioritize for pat-downs?"

"Fine. I'll shut up."

Confusion clouded Lucy's thoughts as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn't understand why Tim was so guarded about his personal life, especially when it came to someone who seemed to hold such significance to him. It left her feeling unsettled, a nagging sense of curiosity gnawing at her.

As he focuses on the road ahead, he can't help but feel annoyed by Lucy's persistence. He knows she means well, but he's not ready to share the intimate details of his relationship with the woman he loves. He just wants to focus on their job, to keep their partnership strictly professional.

As lunchtime approached, the bustling street food area near the station came to life with the sound of chatter and the aroma of sizzling food. Amidst the crowd, you found an empty table, enjoying the inviting atmosphere, with colorful umbrellas providing shade from the midday sun as you waited for Tim.

Your husband approached the table where you were seated, a sense of defeat hung heavy in the air, exhausted from all of his rookie's questions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the connection you shared.

As the conversation turns to you, Tim leans in with a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what were you doing at the station earlier?"

"Metro sent me to find a recruit," you confess, your gaze meeting Tim's.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And did you find one?"

Angela rises from her seat, flashing a smile, "I hate to break up the party, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later."

You nod understandingly, bidding her farewell with a wave as she heads off to resume her patrol.

You return your attention to Tim, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah. You."

Tim's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Me? Are you serious?"

Nyla's figure blended into the bustling crowd as she disappears down the street with her rookie, leaving you and Tim alone.

You give him a knowing smirk. "Dead serious. They've been considering you for a while. Sending me down to the station was just a formality—a test, to see if I was ready for a promotion or something."

"You're getting promoted?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's awesome, babe. I'm proud of you."

As the lunch break comes to an end for Tim, he and his rookie prepare to go on patrol again. They stand by the patrol car, gearing up for their shift.

"Lucy, you're driving," Tim says, tossing her the keys with a grin. "Show me what you got."

Lucy's eyes light up with excitement as she catches the keys, nodding eagerly. "You got it, Officer Bradford. Shotgun!"

While Tim is in the shop, double-checking some equipment, you lean over the car door, catching his attention. "Hey," you say softly, a hint of concern in your voice. "Be safe out there, okay? And have a good time."

Tim gives you a reassuring smile, placing a hand over yours on the door. "Always am, love. Don't worry about me."

Just as the car starts to move, you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper against the noise of the street. "And Tim... I'm pregnant."

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected news. You placed a playful kiss on his cheek, before the car pulls away, you watch Tim drive off with a mixture of excitement and fear.

You were scared of his reaction, delivering him the news this way gave you time to process and turn all the possible scenarios upside down.

He meets your gaze one last time before the car disappears down the street, a rush of emotions flooding his mind—joy, excitement, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there's a deep sense of love and gratitude for the life you've created together.

"Did you get your TO pregnant?" Lucy asks, her tone a mixture of surprise and incredulity.

Tim's jaw tightens, a flash of irritation crossing his features at the inappropriate question. He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before responding firmly.

"She's my wife," Tim states, his voice leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, shut up and drive."

He reaches up to where his uniform shirt collar meets his neck, pulling out a small chain with a wedding ring and some dog tags hanging from it. It's a subtle gesture, but one that holds immense significance—a symbol of the most important moments of his life, from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to marrying you.

Lucy's eyes widen in realization, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she realizes her mistake. Without another word, she focuses on the road ahead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Tim sits back in his seat, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Despite the initial shock, a sense of pride and excitement fills him at the prospect of becoming a father. And as the patrol car speeds through the city streets, Tim's thoughts are consumed with thoughts of the future.

Rook Book to Remember Me By

Part 2 of Rook Book

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Metro!reader

Summary: Tim's delay in transferring to Metro may have cost him everything, and as he and Lucy search Los Angeles for a killer, he only has his memories and a fake rook book to remember you by.

Warnings: ANGST, death, fluff

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

A/N: I know this is a Chenford gif but it fits. :)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“What is that?” Lucy asks as she waits beside Tim’s desk. “A bomb?”

“Lower your voice, boot,” Tim snaps. “We don’t need a stampede.”

“Yes, sir. So, what is it?”

“What does it look like? It’s a book.”

“No, it’s a rook book with a bow on it. And I bet I know who it’s from.”

“50 pushups.”

“But-“

“You want double?”

Lucy frowns as she silences, and she watches Tim lift the book. He opens the front cover and shakes his head before dropping it into one of his drawers. Lucy doesn’t move toward the door, and Tim sighs as he leans against his desk.

“What?” he asks.

“Is that just a book? Or a non-rook-book-rook-book? Like the one somebody’s pretty TO used to carry?”

“Pretty TO?” you ask from behind Lucy.

Tim had been too distracted by the book and Lucy’s prying questions to notice you walk in. Dressed in your Metro uniform, you slide your hands into your pockets and smile.

“I’ll assume you’re talking about Tim,” you add.

“Yeah, right,” Lucy snorts.

“100 pushups it is,” Tim announces.

“Tim,” you chide softly. “You can’t blame her for being excited to see this side of you. It took me your entire probationary period to learn you could smile.”

“Chen, give us a minute,” Tim says.

“Do I have to?” she asks quietly.

“Yes,” you and Tim say together. The difference is that you add, “Please.”

You watch Lucy move toward the equipment room before turning to Tim. He furrows his brows and unconsciously blocks the drawer with your gift in it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call last night,” you begin. “Metro raided a speakeasy, and it went a little haywire.” “Are you okay?” Tim interrupts. “That’s what I was going to ask you. I know you tolerate me, maybe even like me a little, but you don’t call unless you need something.”

“I, uh, just wanted to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I promise.”

You nod and run your tongue over your bottom lip as you think. “Still have nightmares?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, Lucy is ready to pass that test, but in the end moving to Metro is a big decision. One you can do; I don’t doubt that. Just… don’t stick around because you think you have some debt to pay or something. Your boot is important, but your career is too.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Your Metro Commander yells your name, and you lay a hand on Tim’s shoulder before whispering a farewell. He watches you go and decides that when he calls you tonight, he’ll ask why you chose the book you did. Hopefully, he thinks, it will allow him to admit some things. He needs more than your voice to calm him in the middle of the night these days.

“Can I just say one thing?” Lucy asks from the passenger seat of the shop.

“Will me saying no stop you?” Tim replies.

“I think you’re really cute together. She’s been waiting for you, and I don’t think you should make her wait just because you’re scared.”

“What makes you think I’m scared? You mean well, Chen, but this is none of your concern.”

“Maybe not. But it’s yours, and you know I’m right.”

Tim wants to keep arguing, maybe threaten Lucy with more pushups to make her leave it alone, but the radio cuts him off.

“Attention all units. Officer down at Wilshire Federal Building. Metro requesting backup. Will advise.”

Tim’s world slows as he pulls the shop to a curb. He and Lucy are too far away to provide backup fast enough, but he can’t move until he knows that you’re okay. Lucy watches him as he stares at the radio, but with each second of silence, she gets more concerned for him.

“She’s going to be okay,” Lucy whispers.

Tim shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about the alternative but believing that you’re okay without knowing is more dangerous than being wrong and hearing another officer’s name over the radio.

“Bradford, Chen, Harper, Nolan,” Wade radios. “Get back to the station and prepare to assist Metro.”

“Uh, you- you drive, Lucy,” Tim says as he unclips his seatbelt.

“Attention all units,” the dispatch officer begins.

She identifies the downed officer, and when your name is said, Tim’s world stops. He waited too long, and now he can never tell you how he feels. He had a crush on you, he wants to say, but it turned into so much more.

“Tim,” Lucy calls as she opens the driver-side door. “C’mon.”

Tim doesn’t feel any shame as he leans on Lucy. She ushers him into the passenger seat before she drives to the station with lights and sirens on. Tim’s silence is terrifying, and although Lucy is also feeling grief and is heartbroken to hear you’re gone, her concern for Tim outweighs her own emotions.

As Tim exits the shop, his devastation suddenly makes room for anger. He doesn’t blame any of your fellow officers, but if he had moved to Metro sooner, he would have been there with you, and maybe he could have changed the outcome. He slams the door and ignores Lucy as he storms into the bullpen.

Lucy and Tim slow as they see several Metro teams gathered together, but it’s obvious that something is wrong, something is missing. There’s a gap where you should be, and even the elite tactical officers seem lost without you.

“What happened?” Tim asks.

“Officer Bradford, we can’t release any information yet,” Wade answers. “Metro’s going to fill you in on what you need to know. They need as many of us as they can get.”

Tim clenches his jaw to stop the remark that he wants to make. The Metro teams are talking quietly, and he gestures for Lucy to step to his other side as he moves closer.

“You saw the shot?” one of them asks.

“Yeah,” someone answers.

“Then where’d they take her?”

At the realization that you’re not only gone, but they don’t even know where your body is, Tim begins looking around. He sees his Sergeant, Captain, and the Metro commanders huddled in a corner and walks directly to them.

“I want a position in the task force. You need more people, and I’m one of the few patrol officers who knows how to complete a manhunt like this,” he demands.

“I understand where you’re coming from Bradford, but you’re too invested in this to go out alone,” Wade replies.

“Then let me go with him,” Lucy interjects. “Tim knows what he’s doing, and we can patrol and engage in the manhunt at the same time, right?”

Wade looks to the Metro sergeant to his left, who shrugs noncommittedly. He sighs before nodding and tells Tim to get back out on the street and wait for the information about the gunman.

“Wait,” Tim tells Lucy as he stops beside his desk.

He pulls the book from the bottom drawer and tucks it under his arm before continuing to the shop. If this is his last drive where you’re involved, he wants you there. Or as close as he can get.

“Dispatch released a picture,” Lucy says before turning the dash computer toward Tim.

He looks at the picture until the light turns green, and then he begins a grid search surrounding the Wilshire Federal Building. If that man is still nearby, and Tim finds him first, prison will be the least of his worries.

“What’s the book?” Lucy inquires.

“It’s her favorite,” Tim answers.

“You know what her favorite book is. That’s really sweet, Tim.”

“She’s been telling me for years to read it and I keep making excuses not to.”

“And now?”

Tim nods, and Lucy knows that he is going to not only read the book but devour it and everything related to it to feel close to you again.

“7-Adam-19, assault in progress inside Shell gas station at the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Greenfield Avenue. 9-1-1 caller requested your presence on scene.”

Tim hits the steering wheel before telling Lucy to accept the call. He doesn’t have time to break up a fight in a gas station, not when your killer is on the loose. The gas station is less than five minutes away, but Tim gets grumpier with every minute. As he and Lucy enter the gas station, he’s prepared to jump in the fight just to finish it faster.

“You called the police, what’s the problem?” Tim asks the cashier.

The young girl looks scared; her face is pale, and her hands shake above the cash register.

“This doesn’t look like an assault in progress,” Tim adds with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Lucy steps forward to speak to the girl while Tim looks around. The gas station is empty, but Tim doesn’t make it far before he sees a blood trail on the floor. It rounds the end of the cashier’s counter and disappears under a door. Tim pulls his gun and whispers for Lucy to stay ready as he steps toward the door.

“In there?” Lucy asks.

The woman behind the counter nods, and Lucy gestures for Tim to go ahead. Tim pushes the door open and raises his gun to clear the room while Lucy stays on the other side of the opening. He looks down to follow the blood but freezes when someone speaks.

“Officer Bradford, California Penal Code 217.1 is punishable by what?”

“Chen!” Tim yells as he holsters his gun.

Lucy hits the light switch for the storage closet, and Tim kneels to lift a bloody gun from the floor.

“They said you died,” Tim says as he moves closer to you.

You hear Tim begin asking questions when he enters the gas station and hope the cashier that you scared by walking in covered in blood can point him to your hiding spot in the storage closet. Your gun is on the floor beside your feet and your long-sleeve Metro t-shirt is balled against the gunshot wound in your shoulder.

When Tim opens the door, you ask him about a penal code before your head tips forward. Staying conscious while losing blood isn’t as easy as some may think, and you want to make a joke, but Tim jumps to action before you can.

“They said you died,” Tim says quietly.

He lays a hand over your cheek as his other hand applies more pressure to the fabric on your shoulder.

“I think that was the goal,” you mumble.

“Chen, radio for-“

“No!” you interrupt. Your voice raises at the idea of Chen communicating this news over the radio. “The men who we went in there to arrest have radios. They knew we were coming, but if they think I’m dead we can use that.”

“You need help,” Tim argues.

He reaches for his phone, and you lay a bloody hand on his forearm to stop him. You wait for him to look at your face to smile.

“We find another way to get help. But as far as anyone with a police radio knows, I’m still dead.”

“How am I supposed to get you treatment for a GSW without raising any red flags? Any ER nurse will call the police.”

“What about Grace?” Lucy suggests. “Nolan’s friend? If we could talk to her before we take you in, she may be able to keep it quiet.”

“If you think it will work, let’s do it,” you agree.

“No,” Tim interrupts. “We’re not putting your life in the hands of a rookie.”

“Tim, she’s right. This is a good plan and one we need if we want these guys off the street. Please, just trust me and Lucy for a few minutes. You can yell at us and brainstorm new Tim Tests later.”

“Call Grace,” Tim says as he moves his arms around you. “If this starts going wrong, or something happens to you, I will use my radio.”

“Understood.”

You keep your uninjured arm across your chest as Tim lifts you into his arms. Lucy leads the way out and opens the backdoor of the shop before apologizing to the gas station clerk. She leaves her card and scribbles the number of someone who can clean the bloody scene but reminds the girl not to call the police or tell anyone you were here. As Tim drives through traffic and Lucy talks to Grace, you notice a book in the floorboard and chuckle.

“What?” Tim asks quickly.

“You have my rook book.”

“Guess I don’t have to read it now that you’re not dead.”

“If I didn’t know better I would think you’re mad at me, Bradford.” “You know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Don’t risk your job for revenge, Tim. I know you care about me, and I care about you, too, but this isn’t worth it. We work the case like any other.”

“Easy for you to say,” Tim snaps. “You didn’t think the woman you love was murdered twenty minutes ago.”

Lucy ends the call and looks through the cage at you. It’s not how Tim planned to tell you, but he feels lighter with the admission.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” you whisper.

“Tell me after.”

“I’m not waiting until the end of Lucy’s probation period.”

“Please don’t,” she agrees. “I can only take so much more pining from this one.”

“I don’t pine,” Tim grumbles.

“Yes, you do,” you and Lucy argue together.

“Bradford, status report?” Wade radios.

Tim looks at Lucy, who apologizes quickly for not communicating a code 4.

“Code 4, Grey,” Tim replies. “But don’t ask any questions right now.”

“Okay. As long as you didn’t break any laws, this conversation never happened.”

Tim glances over his shoulder at you, and you state, “I haven’t broken any laws. Have you?”

“Not yet. If there’s blood on this book later, that’s your fault.”

Tim sighs, and it sounds almost like a laugh. You don’t have time to tease him before he pulls into the emergency room drop-off area of Shaw Memorial Hospital. Grace and several nurses run out and wheel you in quickly, promising to help you without asking any questions or reporting anything to the police.

“What now?” Lucy asks as the doors close behind you.

“Now, we find the people who are getting 15 to life for trying to kill an officer for completing her duties,” Tim answers.

“Tim,” Lucy calls.

He stops, and she points to the blood staining his skin. Tim opens the trunk of the shop and retrieves a pack of wipes from one of the war bags. Lucy watches as he harshly scrubs your blood from his skin and gets angrier with every wipe he tosses aside.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asks.

“Lucy,” he begins as he slams the trunk closed. “I’m pissed off and I have a feeling in my chest that I’m not used to. But how I feel doesn’t matter. We’re going to get every single one of the people involved in this, and make sure they end up in a hole.”

“By ‘a hole,’ you mean prison, right?” Tim walks around the shop rather than answering, and Lucy rushes to repeat, “You mean prison, right?”

“7-Adam-19, report to Sepulveda and Ohio Avenue.”

“What now?” Tim yells.

He steers the shop into an illegal U-turn and speeds down Sepulveda Boulevard. Lucy gasps as they near the intersection.

“Turn left onto Ohio,” she says.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“Second left onto Camden,” she adds after he turns.

Tim slams on the brakes when he sees someone sitting on the curb at the end of Camden Avenue. Lucy exits the shop as soon as it stops and rushes to hug you as you stand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital?” Tim demands as he joins you.

“Uh, no?” you guess.

“It’s not your fight anymore. You’re dead, remember?”

“Tim-“

“No, you’re going home. You just got out of the hospital.”

“It was just a flesh wound. Lots of blood, a couple of stitches, but no long-term damage. Besides, when’s the last time you got to watch a ghost slap the cuffs on her killer?”

“Look around Tim,” Lucy encourages.

He already know where he is: the sight of his first arrest with you as his TO, it’s a day he’ll never forget. Tim groans before he waves his hand toward the shop. Lucy cheers and offers you her seat. It’s strange being in the passenger seat with Tim again; last time you were here, he was in long sleeves and fresh out of the Army. He was a great rookie, and he’s a great TO, but you want him to be more.

“Tim!” you alert just as Tim slows to a stop.

“I see him,” he agrees.

“Was that too easy?” Lucy asks.

“Well, it’s not over yet,” Tim responds.

“We can do it,” you tell Tim. “You go left, I go right, Lucy splits the middle.”

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” Lucy whispers from the backseat.

“Alright,” Tim agrees. “Lucy, you do whatever you have to do to get the one in the middle down, okay?”

“3… 2… 1…” you and Tim count down together.

You exit the shop silently and leave the doors open. As Tim goes wide to take down the suspect on the left, you move toward the man who shot you. You, Lucy, and Tim strike at the same time and push the suspects down onto the sidewalk. The man beneath you attempts to elbow you in the face, but you shove his head down against the concrete and warn him against moving.

When you cuff him and pull him up to his knees, the man gets a good luck at your face. His expression changes and he leans away like you’re truly a ghost. He tries to move back, but only tips and rolls into the street.

“Leave him,” Tim says as he reaches for his radio. “Grey, this is Bradford, Chen, and our missing Metro officer. We’ve got good news and three suspects in custody. Send backup to my location.”

“No R/A?” you ask. “Because you seemed really eager to send me back to the hospital earlier.”

“You seem fine,” Tim explains with a shrug.

“Tim,” you call as you exit Wade’s office.

He’s changed into his civvies and is preparing to leave for the night. You can’t let him, though, because there is no more time.

“Can you- do you wanna come over for a bit?” you ask.

The left side of Tim’s lips move up as he nods, and you accept his hand as he leads you to his truck. Tim drives to your home in relative silence, and you use the time to find the right words to say. Once you’re inside, you sit on the couch beside Tim and decide to tell him everything. You’ve let him into your life and your house, now you just have to let him in on how you feel.

“You said you loved me in the shop today,” you say. “But I have been falling for you since the moment you walked into roll call your first day. You’ve always been more than my rookie and I can’t live another day without you in my life, Tim. I want you. Nightmares, embarrassing memories between us, fake rook books, all of it. I need you, Tim.”

Tim leans closer with his arm stretched on the back of the couch behind your shoulders. “This is better than 1001.66,” he murmurs.

“Did you just compare my confession of being in love with you to a penal code about bad checks? Because that is-“

Your words end in a hum as Tim curls his arm around your shoulders and kisses you. He tugs you closer, and you hold his face between your hands as you show him that your words are more than that. Tim has had a crush on you since he started patrolling with you, but now he knows that he loves you and needs you beside him. You push him, and he pushes you, but you do it because you know what you’re capable of.

Tim’s phone rings, but he ignores it as he pulls you closer, so your legs are bracketing his. He leans up to continue kissing you as his phone begins ringing again. You press your hands against his chest and break away to retrieve his phone. He follows your movement and peppers kisses along your jaw, completely uninterested in answering his phone.

You see the name on the caller ID and answer, “Hi, Lucy.”

“Hey!” she replies. “I wanted to ask how you’re doing. And if Tim’s alright after everything that happened.”

“We’re both fine,” you promise breathlessly.

“Wait-“

You assume that Lucy realizes that you answered Tim’s phone, which means you’re still together. She squeals into the phone, and you pull it away from your ear and smile.

“Oh, I have to tell Angela!” she yells.

Tim rolls his eyes and keeps one hand around your waist as he pulls his phone away from you. “Bye,” he says quickly before ending the call.

“Hanging up on your rookie isn’t nice,” you say.

“Like you wouldn’t have hung up on me.”

“You were scared to call because you had a crush on me.”

“Still do.”

“What? Tim-“

Tim cuts you off with another kiss; it’s his answer and a reminder of how he feels. You remember the rook book that was in his truck, but now that you’re a permanent fixture in Tim’s life, you can make sure he reads it.

Rook Book

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!metro!reader

Summary: When you return to the Mid-Wilshire station for a Metro inspection, you don't expect to run into your former TO, Tim Bradford.

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, incorrect police procedures

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Boot, let’s go!” Tim urges. “You can talk to your friends later.”

“Good morning to you, too, Officer Bradford,” Lucy replies. “How’d you-“

“Shop.”

“I just-“

“Shop.”

Lucy sighs before walking away from Tim. She’s used to his grumpiness by now, but she can tell by his attitude that there will be a few Tim Tests today. The war bags are already in the trunk, so Lucy isn’t sure what the rush is.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s been a while,” Wade says as he shakes your hand.

“Too long,” you reply with a smile. “When my captain mentioned this, I knew I had to take the assignment.”

“So, what does Metro want with a station review? Isn’t that usually IA’s thing?”

“Typically, yes. I think my role here is best described as a scout. Cap wants some new blood and we’ve got a couple of Metro openings. We need the best, and for some reason, I get to choose them.”

“You’ve already chosen one, I’m sure.”

Wade smiles as you furrow your brows. He shakes his head and reaches for something on his desk.

“Who?” you ask.

“If you don’t know, I’m not telling you.”

Someone knocks on the door, and you turn around as Smitty steps inside.

“I thought you quit,” he says when he sees you.

“I think I know who I won’t be choosing,” you tell Wade.

He tosses you a set of keys and waves. You leave his office and glance around. The station hasn’t changed much since the last time you were there, but you’re sure the people have. As you walk through the bullpen, you see someone you recognize.

“Bradford?” you call.

Tim freezes at the sound of your voice. He hasn’t seen you in years, yet hearing his last name come out of your mouth takes him back to when he was a rookie. Walking several steps ahead of him, Lucy stops and turns at the call of Bradford’s name. She’s expecting to be held up for a minute or two, but when she sees Tim turn slowly toward you, she knows that it’s more than that.

“Hey,” Tim says.

When he sees your smile, he relaxes and steps toward you. You don’t miss his initial reaction, though, and it makes your smile grow.

“I did not think you’d still be here,” you begin. “Maybe I should’ve done a better job.”

Tim nods, and Lucy rushes to his side. She smiles and extends her hand toward you before she speaks.

“Hi, I’m Lucy, uh, Officer Chen. How do you know Officer Bradford?” she asks.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply before telling her your name. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Tim’s rookie.”

“You’re a TO?” you ask incredulously as you turn to look at Tim. “Seriously?”

“Lucy,” Tim begins, “this is my TO.”

Lucy’s jaw drops and you chuckle. Wade calls your name, and you look over your shoulder at him. After he beckons you to return to his office, you turn back to Tim.

“I’ll see you around,” you say.

“Why?” he inquires.

“Metro’s recruiting.”

Tim watches you go and doesn’t move until you’re out of his sight. His shoulders are tense, but there’s a small smile on his face that Lucy hasn’t seen before.

“You never mentioned her!” Lucy exclaims.

“Because she was my TO, not yours,” Tim argues.

“She doesn’t seem that much older than you.”

“I’m not that much older than you.”

Lucy raises her brows but remains silent this time.

“Our ages don’t matter. Aren’t you supposed to be in the shop?” Tim argues.

“Aren’t you?”

Tim tilts his head to the side, and Lucy decides this isn’t a battle worth fighting. She’ll ask about you later, anyway. After Lucy walks away, Tim glances towards Wade’s office once more. He remembers every moment he spent with you, and the memories are making it hard to focus.

“You drive,” Tim tells Lucy as he enters the garage area.

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever unserious?”

Lucy nods and takes the keys from him. As she climbs into the driver’s seat, she realizes why he doesn’t want to drive. He can’t, for some reason.

“You had a crush on your TO,” she accuses quietly.

“Do you want me to quiz you on everything in the rook book?” Tim replies. “Because if you keep this up, that’s what you have to look forward to.”

“You don’t have one.”

“No, because I actually know everything in it. Now, you can pick. Be quiet and drive or I start asking questions about cavity search procedures.”

“I will be quiet and drive,” Lucy decides. “For now.”

Tim takes a deep breath as he remembers the rook book you kept with you when he was a boot. Every memory he has of you is good, and now he’s concerned that Lucy is right. Not that he did have a crush on you, he knows he did, but that he still does.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “I need you and Chen to return to the station.”

“Copy that,” Tim responds.

“What do you think that’s about?” Lucy asks.

“The Metro inspection.”

“I didn’t know about a Metro inspection.”

“I can tell you’re about to burst, so you can ask one question before we get back to the station,” Tim offers.

“Ooh! Wait, just one? How am I supposed to choose? Because I want to know about what kind of TO she was, but I also need to ask if she knows that you liked her.”

“Choose one.”

Lucy taps her fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before smiling. “Did she test you like you test me?”

“Are you asking if she had a version of Tim Tests?”

“Yes.”

Tim nods as he answers, “Yeah. She gave me tests. It’s one of the reasons I started doing Tim Tests. Practical knowledge and experience are important, but she’s the one who taught me that.”

“That’s so cute! You based your teaching style on your teacher crush.”

“Chen,” Tim warns.

“Okay, okay. Then did she quiz you on the rook book, too?”

Lucy knows she is pressing her luck with asking another question. Tim doesn’t answer, and as she nears the station, Lucy expects he’ll make her do pushups later.

“Yeah, she did. Always had a copy of the rook book with her. Sometimes, she’d read it while I drove around and would only talk to me to ask me questions.”

Lucy smiles to herself, now completely convinced that Tim had a crush on you. The way he talks about you and remembers you, though, makes her think those feelings may still be alive. Once the shop is parked at the station, Lucy decides to get to the bottom of Tim’s relationship with you, and if there isn’t one, she needs to make something happen.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, thanks for coming back so quickly,” Wade says. “Head into my office. Chen, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy replies.

“There’s a Metro inspection happening today, and I need you to take the Metro officer around, show her everything she needs to see, make introductions, whatever she asks.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucy tries to hide her smile because she suspects that you are the Metro officer she’s about to spend a bunch of time with. Maybe you’ll be more open than Tim. When you approach her with a smile, Lucy knows that her investigation of your relationships will be more fun than your inspection of the station.

“Officer Chen, sorry to pull you from patrol, but Sergeant Grey said you were one of the best,” you greet.

“No problem,” Lucy says. “And you can call me Lucy if you want.”

“Okay, Lucy, I would love a tour of Mid-Wilshire station. It’s been a long time since I was here, so walk me through like it’s my first time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lucy turns and leads you toward the front desk, to start the tour as she would with a visitor.

“Lucy?” you ask. “What’s Tim like as a TO?”

“He’s great. I mean, he’s grumpy and has a ton of Tim Tests, but I like riding with him.”

“Tim Tests,” you murmur under your breath. “Cute.”

Lucy smiles at your reaction before she begins the tour. You don’t mention Tim again for a while, and Lucy thinks that you are too focused on your inspection to think about him. As you near the bullpen at the end of the tour, Tim is exiting Wade’s office.

“You abducted my boot for a personalized tour?” Tim asks you.

“Lucy mentioned Tim Tests,” you say, changing the subject. “Don’t tell me copied my rook book move, too.”

Tim rubs his thumb across his jaw before answering, “I didn’t.”

“He told me that you used to carry a rook book around and would ask him questions,” Lucy interjects. “I’m really glad he didn’t take that idea.”

You look at Tim with a smile as you ask, “That’s all you told her?”

Lucy looks back and forth between you and Tim, but neither of you seems to remember she’s there.

“The rook book wasn’t a rook book,” Tim says after a moment. “It was just a book that she put the cover on. Those days that she didn’t want to talk to me, she’d just read through our shift and ask me random questions to make it look like she was doing her job.”

“Yeah. Because I’m the one who had trouble doing my job,” you reply with a laugh.

Tim shakes his head, and Lucy suddenly feels the urge to interrupt before he says something out of line.

“How’s the inspection going?” he asks instead.

“How’d your meeting go?” you counter. “Because the inspection is just a cover and we both know it.”

“Cover for what?” Lucy asks.

“She’s recruiting for Metro,” Tim explains. “Looking for the best talent in our station to move to a new team.”

“We’ve got three openings,” you remind him. “Just think about it, okay?”

Tim looks toward Lucy, but you give him a knowing nod. Lucy feels lost like a kid listening to her parents talk about something she hasn’t experienced yet.

“Thanks for the tour, Officer Chen,” you say. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

You say bye to Tim before walking past him. His fingers flex at his side as you pass, close enough to touch. Tim closes his eyes for a moment before turning to Lucy.

“Let’s go. Patrol isn’t over yet,” he says.

“Are you sure you don’t want to grab a book first?” she responds. “I know, shop. I’m going.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After the day of your inspection, Lucy doesn’t hear your name again. Tim returns to his high-stress tests, driving, and random procedural questions. You clearly made an impact on Tim just by being near him, and as Lucy’s rookie exam gets closer, she wonders if Tim pushed you away.

“Can I ask a question?” Lucy asks.

“Depends. Is it about the exam? Because that’s all you should be concerned about,” Tim says.

“No. Well, sort of. Did your TO help you study?”

“Are we talking about my experience as a rookie or about my TO?”

“Your TO,” Lucy answers softly.

“Fine. Ask away.”

“Why hasn’t she been back?”

“She has a job. Metro is busy, so she doesn’t have a lot of time to make personal visits.”

“Did she offer you one of the positions?”

“She did.”

“And you didn’t take it? Why not?”

“Because you’re still a rookie. I have to get you through this.”

“You could’ve handed me off, that happens all the time. Did you say no because of her?”

“I didn’t say no, Chen. I said not yet.”

“Metro positions don’t open every day! You can’t throw away your career to drive me around for a few more months!”

“Lucy!” Tim yells. “Drop it.”

Lucy sits back and presses her lips together to stay quiet. Tim’s cell phone rings, and he glances at it before raising it to his ear.

“Hello?” Tim answers.

Lucy looks over in shock. Tim has never answered a personal call in the time they’ve been riding together. Whoever is on the other end speaks for a moment, and Tim listens intently.

“Got it… Yep, see you then.”

Tim ends the call and drops his phone to continue driving.

“Who was that?” Lucy asks.

Tim looks over but doesn’t answer. He says, “Read your rook book,” and keeps driving.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Bradford,” you call as he and Lucy enter the station.

Tim leaves Lucy and walks to you. He stops beside Wade’s office and waits for you to begin. You told him on the phone to come straight to the station when his shift ended and he’s ready to know why. Nolan and Jackson enter behind Lucy and silence as they watch Tim talk to you.

“Who is that?” Nolan whispers.

“Tim’s TO,” Lucy answers.

“My captain wanted to call you, but I thought it would be better to tell you in person,” you begin. “You passed the Metro test, and your spot is waiting for you.”

Tim smiles, glad he has his back to the rookies. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything I haven’t done before.”

“Which is?”

“See potential in you.”

Tim nods and thanks you again. You look over his shoulder and the rookies look away quickly, but they’re less than stealthy and it is obvious they’re trying to listen in.

“Has Lucy been asking about me?” you ask.

“Nonstop. Don’t look so happy about it, though.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Mostly if I had a crush on you.”

“We both know you did,” you say.

Tim doesn’t argue, and your smile grows.

“I know you told her about my tests and the rookie book, but what else does she know?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s interesting. Because I don’t know any more than that and I’ve known you a whole lot longer.” You glance down at your Metro uniform before adding, “Oh, and my captain also said that Metro officers are allowed to have interpersonal relationships as long as they don’t interfere with work.”

Tim looks up quickly with wide eyes. You stifle a laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

“So… are you ready to admit you had a crush on me?” you ask.

“Something like that.”

You wave at Lucy and step away from Tim. He reaches an arm out to stop you, but you only wink at him before you continue walking.

“Are you going to do something this time?” Wade asks as he exits his office.

“We’ll see,” Tim answers. “Lucy has to pass the rookie exam first.”

“It looks like she just got herself a tutor.”

Tim turns and finds you and Lucy talking excitedly. You smile at him, and Tim feels like a boot again.

“This is gonna be fun,” Wade and Lucy say simultaneously.

Neither you nor Tim hear them, too busy looking at one another.

> part 2: Rook Book to Remember Me By

Finally Safe

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!!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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.

Harsh Words

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,707

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that anyone ever looked for you when you left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” Grey asks.

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

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

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

‘Hey, kid. Where are you?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘y/n, please come home.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n, are you in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

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

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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.”

Aromatic

Sex Pollen!Eddie Brock|Venom x Spider-Girl!Reader

Summary: After a failed fight with a local villain, Venom and the Reader find themselves overwhelmed by some gas that was sprayed on them.

CW: choking, oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink,

a/n: so sorry this took so long, I’ve been stressed out here lately! I’m leaving the villain ambiguous so you can decide who it is as you read :)

~~~

Cold Autumn air cut through your suite like a knife. Swinging around the city as the sun went down, checking for any sign of mischief. Catching a glimpse of one of your partners in an alleyway. Deciding to check-in on him and see what was going on.

You crawled slowly down the wall behind him. Sneaking up to see if maybe there was something he was hiding.

"I know you're there," his deep voice rumbled in your ears.

Venom. An alien symbiote. Vigilante by night. Not entirely sure who his human vestige was underneath. Always curious, but never willing to ask.

You hopped off the wall with a sigh. Landing directly behind him, "Your senses are getting better."

"I can always smell you coming," he chuckled with a grin on his face. Your cheeks flushed under your mask. There always was a hint of flirtation between the two of you. You jokingly sniffed your armpit, “Do I really smell that bad?”

Venom scoffed, “Of course not.” A small sting of embarrassment on his tone. Like something deep inside him did not want to offend you.

You felt your senses go into overdrive. Whipping your head around in the direction you were being called to. Leading your gaze into the small view of the streets you had from the alleyway. Hearing the familiar laugh of the villain you had been tracking for weeks now.

“Come on,” you instructed him as you thwipped a web up, pulling yourself higher. Landing on top of the building surrounding you. Staring at the new machine they created. A giant vessel holding some colorful liquid on its back. Giant legs hoisting it up as it rampaged down the streets. Clamping down on cars and throwing them into buildings.

You and Venom diving down head first into the battle. Venom stopping the newly thrown car mid air before it struck a mother and her child. Your webs wrapping themselves around the arms of the machine, pulling and pinning them backwards. The villain shooting a dreadful look at you.

“So this is what you’ve been up to? Thought you were just scared to see me,” you mocked as you shot webs against the arms, pinning it to the ground.

“Pesky bug!” They shouted at you, fingers rapidly pressing buttons on the board of the machine. Watching as a canon extended from the back of it. Feeling your senses tingle every end of your nerves.

“VENOM! WATCH OUT!” You called out as you swung over to your partner. Attempting to shield him from whatever attack was coming from the villain. Your body moving without thinking to his defense.

Gas poured from the cone-shaped end. Surprising you that a missile of some kind didn’t fire out. Thick smog filled the entire street you were in. Fogging up your vision and burning your nose.

You both coughed as the dust coated the insides of your noses and throats.

"What the hell was that?!" Venom growled, noticing the villain had disappeared in front of you.

"I have no idea," you coughed out, "I don't feel any different. Not noticing any physical changes."

"Maybe it was just a distraction," Venom groaned frustrated that you had let them get away. Slamming his giant fist into the nearby concrete. Quiet cursed grumbled under his breath as he jumped back to the ground. You followed closely behind, shooting a web and sliding down it. Feeling a ting in your heart for him.

Walking over and flattening your hand against his back, “We’ll get them next time.”

The monster sighed.

Your chest jumped. The growl on his voice vibrating through your entire body. You swallowed heavy as you awkwardly removed your hand from him. His white eyes looking over his shoulder at you. Widening when they met yours.

“I’ve got to go,” Venom forced his head forward. Rushing off from you. Somewhere you were unsure of. An abrupt end to your nightly routine.

You headed home. Swinging along the large glass buildings in your city. Jumping down a hidden part of the alley next to your apartment. Grabbing your bag you had hid and changing clothes.

Your body went through the familiar motions as you walked up to your apartment. A haze around your vision, your mind somewhere else entirely. Unsure why you felt what you were, but focusing on the one thing that cleared up your fog.

Venom.

Your large alien partner in crime. Well— stopping crime. Ever since you had parted ways after your failed face off today, he was the only thing you could focus on. How gentle he always was with you, his deep voice, how effortlessly flirty he was with you during your endeavors, his tongue—

Oh God.

You felt every last vein in your body run hot. Tingling spreading from between your thighs throughout your body. Fumbling as you tried to get your key in the lock, hunching over at the deep sensation taking over your body. Your breath hitched in your throat.

- click -

Fuck, finally.

You stormed into your apartment. Arms wrapped around your chest. Your clothes feeling extra tight. Sweat bubbled along your body. You fanned yourself with your hands. Rushing into your kitchen to open the freezer. Cool air persisting your sudden sweats. Nothing was cooling you off.

You stumbled down your hallway as your core throbbed, an unspeakable feeling seizing your figure. Grabbing the box fan from the closet. Hurrying into the living room and plugging it in. Slumping against your couch directly in front of the fan. Growing agitated at the feeling swirling deep inside you. Unsure how to calm it.

A loud knock at your door made you sit completely up.

Why didn't your spider-sense warn you?

Walking over to look through the peephole. A man with a beard wearing a black leather jacket stood before your door. Not someone you had recognized before. Something inside you begged for you to open the door.

"Hello?"

The man awkwardly smiled at you. A hint of sweat on his forehead. "Uh- Yeah, hi," his eyes darted around the stairwell.

"Can I help you?"

"I think you can actually," he sighed, seeming like there was something he wanted to say. You could see his tongue moving around in his mouth as if he was feeling out the words before saying them.

Suddenly, black ooze began morphing around his arm. Quickly taking the shape of Venom's head in front of you. "We need to come in now," Venom insisted. Your body instinctively moved out of the way allowing them inside.

"How did you find where I live?"

"Do you feel it too?"

You blushed. Completely overtaken by the smell of him. The musky cologne mixed with the sweat on his skin. How his plump lips begged you to plant yours against them. The way his dark eyes stared into yours.

When you suddenly realized. He was feeling the same way you had been all afternoon. The deep burning inside you. The way your body ached and craved another. One that you could not put a finger on until now. It was him.

"Yes," you breathlessly said. Following close behind him.

"I told you so," Venom hissed in the man's face. He held up a hand, pushing him away from his face. "I'm Eddie by the way," he smiled at you, "We've kinda knew each other through some costumes before now." You returned his smile. Feeling a connection to him beyond understanding. Almost like you had known him forever.

“So— uh… guess we need to talk about this? It had to be whatever that psycho sprayed us with earlier. I’m not exactly sure what the side effects are, but I’ve been feeling—“

“Aroused?” Venom blatantly asked, embarrassing his human half. Eddie reached out attempting to cover Venom’s mouth. Pink decorating his cheeks at the aliens lack of social skills. Both of you sharing in your color filled facing.

“Sorry about him—“

“No— No I think he’s right,” you walked over to Eddie and Venom. Locking eyes with Eddie. Both of your bodies instinctively meeting each other. His hands splaying around your lower back, your arms wrapping around his neck. A warmth rising between you. Spreading throughout your body from where his hands met your skin.

“Have you been feeling it too, Eddie?”

His tongue came out to wet his lip. Dark eyes examining your face, pupils blown in lust. A sigh of a “yes” falling from him as he leaned in to plant his lips on yours. Tenderly you kissed back and forth. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Soft groans sharing between kisses. Taste of your shared saliva filling your senses.

Eddie’s kisses turned hungry. One hand roaming up your body to tangle in your hair, deepening your connected mouths. He led you backwards, the back of your legs hitting the couch. Bending as you sat back, Eddie’s arms pinned on either side of your head. Your lips parting as you stared at each other. Black pupils stared into yours. Feeling yourself grow lost in his presence. Needing him all over you.

“You smell delicious,” Venom’s deep voice huffed into your ear from behind. Turning your head to meet his gaze. Not even noticing he had crept up behind you while his host hovered over you. A tentacle of ooze wrapping around your neck and pinning you back against the couch. Ripping the air out of your lungs with his strength. Eddie’s lips kissed along your jawline, “Tell us if you want to stop.” You nodded in acknowledgment.

Your eyes squinted shut as their touches stimulated you. Eddie trailed down your body, knees hitting your floor. Fingers traced the waist of your shorts, playing with the elastic. Deep blue eyes stared up at your arched neck. Pressure left your neck as Venom retreated. Taking a deep breath that had been escaping you. Leaning your gaze forward to meet his eyes.

"May I?" Eddie hooked his finger around your waistband.

"Please-"

Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. The sensation of his hands barely touching your skin sending shivers through you. He admired the darkened fabric of your panties as your core leaked for him. A goofy grin coming across his face. His hot breath fanned at your clothed entry. He leaned forward planting an open mouth kiss against you. Your hips lunged forward at the sudden contact. His hands gripped your thighs firmly holding you in place. "I'll make you feel good," he promised breathlessly. Eyes fixated on the faint image of your pussy in front of him. The smell of your arousal sending him over the edge. Animal like urges taking over. A strong hand ripped your panties off in one swipe. Eddie's brows raised in shock. Looking up at you with an awkward smile, a faint "sorry" escaping him.

Dipping in, his tongue swiping up your entrance. Your breath growing shaky, head falling onto the back of the couch. Trying your best to let him take control. Dying to grind into his face and ride his tongue. One of your hands tangled in his hair, lacing your fingers through it. A grunt vibrated through you when you pulled his hair a little harder than intended. One of his fingers circled your entrance, coating it in your juices before sliding it inside. Curving it with each slow and long thrust. Eddie's name a loud moan from you.

It rang in their ears. Venom inside Eddie's mind telling him to keep going until he had you a squirming mess. Fueling the fire that burned inside Eddie. His hard-on throbbing and begging to be inside you. Whatever had taken over the two of you stinging his skin. Your taste on his tongue turning him on even more.

Your orgasm was approaching at a rapid pace. Your legs were shaking with the magic Eddie worked on you. You were panting, eyes squinted shut in pure ecstasy. You felt Eddie rocking back and forth differently than before. Looking down to see him humping into your couch while still going down on you. Hot breath hitting your core as he continued sucking on your sensitive nub. Your eyes met, holding together. Eddie's brows contorted slightly, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. You could feel the coil inside you about to unwind. One more curve of Eddie's finger had it washing over you. A loud moan escaping you as you gripped his head for support. Forcing yourself further onto his face.

"That's it," Eddie cooed.

You sighed, your body relaxing into the sofa. Your hole still gripping around his finger post orgasm. Slowly, he removed his finger from you. Huffing as he rested his head against your quivering thigh, a wide grin on his face. Admiring how your chest rose and fell with every harsh breath you took. He held his finger up in front of his face staring at how your orgasm coated his finger. Pushing it between his lips and cleaning it off. Lingering in the taste of you.

"Eddie..."

"Yes?"

"Please, I need you to fuck me," you begged. He sighed heavily. Rising to his feet in front of you. Dropping his jacket from his shoulders, then pulling his shirt off. Undoing his belt and dropping it into the floor. Scooping you up into his arms effortlessly. Strength clearly from his symbiotic partner. "I thought you'd never ask," Eddie smiled at you, kissing your lips. Taking you down the hall where he assumed your bedroom was. Pretending the monster in his mind was not leading him to the area strongest of your scent. That's how Venom had taken him here to begin with. When they both were overcome with a desire they could not relieve themselves. The symbiote begged Eddie to allow him to go to you. You were what they desired.

Eddie sat you onto your feet, hands grazing up your sides as his forehead rested against yours. Lips locking with yours. Tongue exploring your mouth. Hands groped your chest. Pinching at your sensitive nipples through the fabric. Hands finding their way under your shirt, dancing up your back to the clasp of your bra. Fingers effortlessly undoing it. Pulling your shirt and bra off in one clean motion. Lips attaching to the soft skin of your chest. Sucking purple marks into them as his fingers rolled your nipples.

"Your skin is so soft," he moaned into you.

You moaned, grinding your knee into his erection. Hands circling his waist, dipping into the band of his jeans. Playing with his boxer-briefs underneath. Undoing the button and zipper. Hand delving down and wrapping around his thinly clothed cock. Eddie's hips rutted at your touch. Smiling into your skin.

Suddenly you felt yourself get thrown back onto your bed. Nude body on complete display for them. Eddie's wide eyes stared at you. Venom had grown impatient. Deciding he could no longer wait to be inside you.

"I want her now, Eddie," Venom growled in his face.

Eddie dropped his jeans and boxers. Hard cock springing free. You felt your mouth watering at the sight. Spreading your legs, inviting them in. That burn inside you igniting again. He stepped in front of you on the edge of the bed. Hand gripping his erection, pumping it. His brows furrowed, "Not what I need." His head tilted to the side as he eyed your body.

His toned body leaned on top of yours. Muscles flexing as he held himself up, other hand guiding himself at your entrance. Circling your folds with the tip. "Fuck, Eddie," you moaned. Forcing yourself down on him just enough to take his head in. Eddie groaned at the feeling, "Ah- Y/N, goddammit."

Eddie planted a strong kiss against yours lips as he sheathed himself inside you. Rolling his hips, allowing you to adjust to him. An instant relief overtaking you both. Exactly what you needed.

You felt ooze touching every inch of your body. Venom wrapped himself around you, wanting to feel as close to you as Eddie was. Stimulating your sensitive body, pinching at your hardened nipples, wrapping around your wrists and interlocking with your fingers. Far more intimate than you thought he was capable of. "Pretty thing," his voice boomed inside your ears.

Eddie continued his thrusts inside you. Face contorted at the relief he felt. Your insides cooling the burn he had been feeling. Walls coaxing him further inside you, practically sucking him in. Needing him all over you. Loving the attention Venom was giving you. The symbiote finding his way down to your clit. Circling it.

Your back arched. Moaning loudly at the feeling. Overstimulation taking over your senses. Losing yourself as Eddie's cock hit the spongey spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Breath hitching in your throat as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your cunt contorted around his member as they got you closer to your edge.

"I could fuck you forever," Eddie groaned as he leaned down closer to you. Lips tangling together as your wrapped your arms and legs around him. Pulling your bodies flush together. Venom spreading across both your bodies. Connecting you more than you had ever been with anyone else. You began meeting Eddie's thrusts with your own. Needing him to fill you up.

"Want us to breed you?" Venom licked his lips, "Dirty girl..."

You and Eddie's eyes locked. Lust blown pupils staring into each other. Both your mouths hung open, sharing the same air. He cocked an eyebrow at you, asking the same question that Venom had.

"Cum inside me, Eddie," you moaned, breath escaping you as he thrusted harder into you.

Hips snapped into you. Harsh and sloppy thrusts. Venom continued circling your sensitivity in an attempt to get you both to finish at the same time.

"Come on, Eddie," Venom snarled, "Fill her cunt up."

Eddie's face rested in the crook of your neck as he searched for both your highs. Grunting with each snap of his hips. "Yo-You have the per-perfect pussy," Eddie praised you as he felt your walls begin to tighten around him.

You came undone around him. Walls spasming around his cock. Pushing him over his own edge. Eddie shot hot up inside you, coating your walls with his seed. Pushing himself as deep inside you as he could get. His body twitched with each rope he shot into you. Lips kissing your skin.

Eddie slumped his body onto yours unable to remove himself from your warmth. Savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. Your hands rubbed his back, nails scratching at his skin. Hesitantly, Eddie rolled off of you. Pulling himself out. The mixture of juices inside you spilling out. Venom forcing it all back inside you.

You rested against his chest. The fire inside you finally subsiding. Both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. Bodies having been worked.

"You can stay here," you sighed.

"We would love that," Eddie kissed your head.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! It feels so nice to return to the character who originally got me writing so much on this blog. I've missed these two so much. My inbox is always open for requests. If you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@heif ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @denisedixon ~ @crazymuffin1 ~ @gruffle1 ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~ @glader13 ~ @frenchkimbo ~ @wuuuuman ~ @vexties ~ @f4ngedgirl ~ @megangovier ~ @globinsmerchant ~

Elliot With A Wife That Comes From A Wealthy Family

You come from a wealthy family

The typical old money family

So everyone was so surprised when you announced you were getting married to Elliot

Elliot is not the kind of man your family would’ve imagined you with

After all, both of your sisters went on to marry rich men

They both sneered at Elliot and his profession but your parents were happy for you

Elliot cannot STAND your sisters and has to mentally prepare himself for each visit

But everyone manages to come together for your kids

Each holiday and birthday is always an expensive gift

Your family being a little out with the world their grandchildren and nieces and nephews live in

They never have to worry about money, so their advice is pretty useless

Elliot always feels like bashing his head whenever your sisters talk about some expensive trip to Europe or whatever expensive item their husbands got them

Sometimes Elliot feels like he doesn’t deserve you 

You have to remind him that you married HIM and that you’re glad you did

Your family really does mean well, they just don’t have any tact

If your family is having money issues, Elliot refuses to dip into the money that’s part of your inheritance or ask your parents for help

Seriously, this man doesn’t know when or how to ask for help

He wants to be able to provide for his family himself

You having to go behind his back and doing what needs to be done anyway

Really, Elliot loves you so much and wants to give you the life that you

That’s Not What I See

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: You're a crime analyst on the Manhattan SVU squad. You've been attracted to Elliot Stabler since you first met him, but you knew there was no way he'd be into you. Men who looked like him never were...at least that's what you thought.

Warnings: Use of pet names. Cursing. Mentions of self-esteem issues. SMUT, praise kink, oral (F receiving), multiple orgasm, unprotected sex (P in V)

You walked into the office gym at 5am, thinking there wouldn't be anyone else there. You hated working out, especially in front of other people. Normally, you used the gym in your apartment building, but it was under construction, so you decided to sneak into the office early.

You'd thrown on leggings and a slightly too small t-shirt, and you were tugging on the shirt uncomfortably as you walked into the gym. You just wanted to get on the treadmill for an hour, but your plans were interrupted when you heard soft grunts coming from across the room.

You froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice you. You moved towards the treadmill quietly, using it as a shield so you could see who was in the room without them seeing you.

From your angle, all you could see was a man's legs on the weight bench across the room. He was laying down and preparing for another rep. When his arms came into view, you let out an involuntary gasp. The Marine Corps tattoo on his right arm was a dead giveaway...it was Elliot Stabler.

He racked the weight bar and sat up, eyes looking in your direction. You knew he couldn't see you, but he must have heard your gasp. Shit, you thought to yourself.

"Hello?" he called.

You decided it would be weird if you didn't respond, so you stepped out from behind the treadmill and gave him a little awkward wave. "Good morning."

He smiled warmly when you came into view. "Morning, (Y/N)."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your skin, and you tugged on your shirt again. You suddenly wished you'd worn something a little looser, but you hadn't expected to see anyone, least of all him.

"Since when do you come to the gym before dawn?" he asked as he stood up and started walking towards you.

"I--uh--I...normally I don't--umm, I use the gym at home. It's being renovated."

"I see." He stopped right in front of you, giving you an up close and personal view of his beautiful body. Every inch of him was toned, muscles flexing under his skin. "I kinda like having the company."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "I was just gonna...umm--use the treadmill?"

He smiled again and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "Go for it, doll. You don't need my permission."

You grabbed onto the arm of the treadmill to keep you upright--the term of endearment making your knees buckle. "Yeah," you mumbled.

"Let me know if you need anything." With that, he walked back over to the weight rack to finish his reps.

You were about 5 minutes away from having a full blown heart attack, but it would be super awkward if you left the gym now. So you climbed onto the treadmill and started walking at a steady pace. You did your best to keep your eyes forward, but you could feel Elliot looking at you every time he sat up.

After several minutes, he stood up and came across the room towards you. "Mind if I--?" he asked, gesturing to the machine beside you.

"Oh--uhh, sure," you stammered.

He smiled and got onto the elliptical.

You'd been sucking in your stomach as much as possible since the moment he noticed you...it was restricting your ability to breathe properly, but you didn't care. Standing next to a man who looked that good made you feel incredibly uncomfortable, frumpy even.

"How you liking SVU so far?"

Fuck, now he's gonna ask me questions? I already can't breathe. "I like it, but it's not easy work."

He nodded. "No it's not, but it's rewarding."

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"You're the first crime analyst we've ever had on the squad."

"I know," you said quickly. "I hope I'm adding value."

"You add a lot of value, both to the work we do and to the general morale of the squad."

"Oh," you said in surprise. "I, uhh, I appreciate that."

He chuckled lightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said tentatively.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What?" you asked in genuine surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Well...you don't make eye contact with me very often and you stutter a lot when you talk to me--like you're flustered."

"I promise, it's not because you make me uncomfortable." It's because every time I see you, I want you to rip my clothes off and bend me over your desk.

You could feel his eyes on you, almost like he was scanning you--trying to decide if you were being honest. You didn't dare turn your head, you'd either fall on your face or reveal the thoughts in your head.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure," he said with a smile. "I like you, (Y/N)...I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

That tiny naive voice in the back of your mind squealed he likes me! but the more logical part of your brain ignored it. A man that looked like that was not interested in a woman who looked like you.

"I appreciate that," you mumbled. You'd only been on the treadmill for 40 minutes, but you decided that was more than enough. You wanted to get the hell outta there. You hit 'stop' on the machine and hopped off. "I'm gonna hit the shower. See you in the squad room."

"Okay. See you there."

20 minutes later, you were seated comfortably at your desk, going over some reports you needed to write.

You felt Elliot's presence before you saw him, and you did your best to act nonchalant. He walked up to the desk across from yours and leaned against it. He'd clearly showered and was now dressed in his usual slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms and his tattoo.

"You smell really good," he commented. "Body wash or perfume?"

"Oh, uhh--maybe both?" It better be that damn perfume. It was expensive.

He smiled. "Well if it's the perfume, I'd recommend wearing it more often. It smells delicious." He shot you a wink before walking over to his own desk and sitting down.

You couldn't help but wonder if this man knew the effect he had on you and if that was why he was flirting with you. Was he even flirting? Hell, you had no idea. The hotter the man, the more awkward you became. You had a hell of a time reading them and it had messed you up in the past.

It's not that you had low self-esteem necessarily, it's just that you'd put on a fair amount of weight in the last couple years and it definitely affected your self-confidence. Hence why you'd started going to the gym every day...you wanted to get that young, happy, thinner version of you back.

As the day progressed, you forgot all about your encounter with Elliot that morning. It was a busy day and it flew by. Before you knew it, it was after 7pm and you were still curled up at your desk, typing away on your computer.

You heard a throat clear to your left and you turned to glare at whomever it was that dared to interrupt you. "Oh, Elliot!" you exclaimed in surprise. "I figured you'd gone home by now."

"I thought you would have too," he said with a shrug. "I'm actually just heading out now, but I wanted to see if you were hungry."

At that exact moment, your stomach let out a little grumble. You realized you'd worked straight through lunch and you were starving. "I could eat."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't eat lunch, so I'm betting you're starving."

He was paying that much attention? "Yeah, you're right. It's probably time to get the hell outta here anyway."

"My thoughts exactly. Come on, I'll take you home. We can get dinner on the way--my treat."

You normally took the subway, but it was after dark and the squad didn't like you walking home or riding the subway alone. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It's not a chore, (Y/N). We can stop anywhere you'd like."

You bit your lip as you thought about it. You really should turn him down, but if you'd learned anything in your time with SVU, it was that being a woman in New York was dangerous enough without walking alone at night.

"There's a little pizza shop by my apartment," you conceded.

He grinned. "How'd you know I was thinking pizza?"

You laughed. "You eat it all the time...you must think pizza is a vegetable."

He laughed. "It's delicious. Grab your coat."

You hurried to pack up, then you threw on your coat and followed him out to his car. It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the air was crisp.

Elliot made small talk on the way to the pizza place. You were thankful that he carried the majority of the conversation and you couldn't wait to have food to occupy your mouth with so you wouldn't sound like such an idiot.

"I don't think I've ever been here," he commented as he found a parking spot near the shop.

"It's the absolute best," you insisted enthusiastically.

He smiled at your animation. "This is the most excited I've ever seen you."

You blushed. "I like food."

"So do I...and I'm starving, so let's go in."

As soon as you walked in the door, you heard a thick Italian accent yell your name. "(Y/N)! Looking beautiful as ever."

You smiled at the older man, embracing him when he came around the counter for a hug. "You're too sweet, Gio."

After he released you from the bear hug, he turned to look at Elliot, clearly sizing him up. "Who is this?"

"This is Elliot. We work together," you said reassuringly. "Elliot, this is Giovanni Romano, owner and chef extraordinaire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elliot said as he extended his hand for a shake.

Gio looked him up and down, and apparently decided he liked him because he smiled really wide and said, "No handshakes! We hug here," before wrapping a surprised Elliot into a hug.

You laughed at the look on Elliot's face. Gio finally let him go and Elliot looked relieved, if not a little shocked.

"Maria!" Gio yelled towards the back. "La principessa is here with il innamorato."

You turned red as a tomato and prayed Elliot didn't speak Italian. "Gio!" you hissed.

"My principessa?" Maria yelled as she came out of the kitchen. She bustled over to where you were still standing by the door.

"She's Gio's wife," you whispered to Elliot a millisecond before she grabbed you in a tight hug.

She then turned her attention to Elliot. She nodded approvingly and turned to whisper to you, "Lui è bello."

You blushed again. "Sì," you mumbled back. "Now silenzio, per favore."

She smiled at you and gave your cheek an affectionate tap. "What can we get the two of you, amorino?"

You smiled. "Two of your best pies, Maria." You turned to Elliot, realizing he might not want you to order for him. "If that's okay with you."

He smiled. "I trust you."

"Two pies coming up!" Maria said with a smile. She grabbed Gio and practically dragged him towards the kitchen with her. You could hear her talking about Elliot and you in Italian and it made you laugh.

Elliot followed you to a table near the back of the small building. "So, uh...you come here often?"

You blushed. "Nearly every day when I was in school," you said honestly. "The food is delicious, cheap, and there's free WIFI. Plus, Gio and Maria have become like family to me."

"They seem really sweet."

You smiled fondly. "They're the best. I don't have any family of my own, but they both kinda took me under their wings...like an Aunt and Uncle."

"That's very kind of them."

Gio appeared with two waters, before he disappeared again with a wink in your direction.

"I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Gio and Maria taught me. I ended up minoring in Italian at NYU."

"So, uh...what did they say about me?"

"Hmmm?" you pretended not to know what he was talking about...you really didn't want to answer him.

"Come on, I know they were talking about me."

"Maria said you were handsome, that's all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?"

"She did!" you insisted.

"I don't think that's the only thing she said."

You blushed.

"You're blushing."

"It's warm in here."

"No, it's not. Just tell me what she said."

You bit your lip. "Do I have to?"

He laughed. "No, but I'd really like to know."

"Technically that's all Maria said. Gio, on the other hand...well, he called you my um...well in Italian it means 'lover', but you can think of it more like boyfriend, I guess? Or maybe more like sweetheart?" you rambled.

Elliot laughed heartily. He enjoyed watching you fumble for what to say. It was endearing and incredibly cute. "I hope you didn't correct them."

You nearly spit out your water. "What?"

"Well, if you're as close to them as you seem to be...then they would know if you were seeing someone right?"

You nodded.

"And their assumption that I'm your lover means you're not seeing anyone?"

You nodded again, clearly uncomfortable.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Good." He picked up his water and took a long drink, eyes never leaving yours.

What the actual fuck is happening? "I'm confused."

He shrugged. "Let me put it this way, I'm honored they would think I'm your lover."

You choked on nothing but air. "Excuse me?"

He smiled again, wider than before. He leaned in closer to make sure no one but you could hear his next words. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. You stared at him in shocked silence for what felt like an eternity.

Like a little Italian savior, Maria appeared beside the table with her famous focaccia.

You grabbed a piece of the delicious bread and took a massive bite, despite the fact that it was fresh from the oven. It burned your mouth, but you didn't care. You needed something to distract you from the words Elliot had just said and the way he was staring at you.

Maria gave you look that said slow down, but she didn't say it out loud. "The rest will be out soon, amorino."

Once Maria was out of ear shot, Elliot asked, "What does amorino mean?"

"Essentially 'little love'. It's a term of endearment," you answered, grateful for the change in topic.

Elliot steered the conversation in other directions for the rest of dinner. He asked you all sorts of questions about your life and answered several of your own. He didn't mention what he'd said earlier, and you were fine pretending it hadn't happened.

After dinner, Elliot insisted on paying the bill, even though Gio tried to comp it. You knew it made Elliot look respectable in Gio's eyes and for some reason, that made you proud.

"I'll pull the car up," Elliot told you before heading outside.

"He's lovely, principessa," Gio said softly.

"I know, but he's just a friend, Gio."

"Ahh, amorino, you are young! You cannot see," he insisted.

"Can't see what?"

"The way he looks at you, (Y/N/N)," Maria said gently as she joined the two of you.

"Like you hung the moon," Gio finished.

"You two are romantics," you said with a laugh.

"Perhaps, but we are old...we've lived. We both know what it means when a man looks at a woman the way Elliot looks at you," Maria assured you.

She wrapped you in a tight hug and Gio followed.

"Now go, principessa," Maria said with a smile. "He's waiting."

You turned to look out the door and sure enough, Elliot was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the car, waiting for you to come outside.

You said your goodbyes and met Elliot out on the sidewalk. "Fancy meeting you here," you teased.

He smiled. "It's almost like I planned it that way."

You laughed and walked towards the now open passenger side door. Elliot helped you into the car and closed the door before going to his side and getting in.

During the short drive to your apartment, you watched Elliot out of the corner of your eye. You were looking for whatever it was that Gio and Maria insisted they saw. He was relaxed, more so than he ever was at work, and he seemed genuinely comfortable. But comfort and desire were two very different things.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Elliot pulled up in front of your building. This time of night, there wasn't much by way of street parking, but he managed to snag a spot a block away. "I'll walk you in."

"You don't have to," you assured him.

"It's after 9...there are pervs on the street."

You almost laughed, but you knew he was serious. His statement wasn't funny, so much as the way he said it. "Alright, come on."

He followed you to the front door of your building. You punched in the code and the door unlocked. As you pulled it open, you had a sudden burst of confidence.

"Would you like to come up?" you blurted.

You weren't sure who was more surprised, you or Elliot. He certainly recovered faster than you. "I'd love to."

You just nodded awkwardly and held the door for him to follow you in. The two of you took the stairs in silence, a silence that continued all the way to your door. "This is me," you mumbled.

You unlocked the door without looking at him and gestured for him to enter. You were thankful you'd cleaned the apartment the day before, so everything was neat and organized.

"It's a cute place," he commented.

"Thanks," you moved to the kitchen, needing something to do with your hands. "It's all I can afford. Do you--uh, do you want a drink?"

"Sure," he said warmly as he slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of the chair.

You poured him a drink and poured yourself a double. Lord knew you needed a little more liquid courage than he did. You were taking a risk--making a gamble you weren't sure would pay off.

You came into the living room and handed him his drink before sitting on the couch beside him. You left space between you, just in case he wanted there to be some.

You were drinking your beverage a little faster than you should have and he noticed. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Is this about what I said at the restaurant?"

"Umm--uhh--"

"Because I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you said quickly. It had made you uncomfortable, but not in the way he was thinking.

"Okay, good." He took a sip of his drink. "Because I meant it."

You exhaled sharply and he turned to look at you.

He sat his glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to you. "I think about it all the time, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. It's almost annoying--you occupy my thoughts all day every day and I don't know how to deal with it. You make me feel like a teenager again."

You didn't know what to say. You'd dreamed of this happening, but you never actually thought it would. Now that you were sitting in this position, you had no idea what to do.

"I know I'm older than you--hell, I might be too old for you, but I can't help the way I feel. I'll never bring it up again if that's what you want, but I wanted to tell you the truth."

"You're not too old for me," you said quickly.

"How old are you?"

"30."

"Oh," he seemed almost relieved. "I thought you were younger than that...I actually feel better."

You laughed lightly. "10 years isn't all that much."

He shook his head. "Not at our ages."

You fell silent again, unsure what to say next. You finished your drink, then set it on the coffee table beside his. "Why me?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you want me?"

"Because you're incredible?"

You rolled your eyes. "Elliot, come on. Look at us."

"I don't understand."

You sighed, feeling reluctant to answer. "Look at you. Hot, muscular, in incredible shape. Then look at me. I'm none of those things--I'm overweight, frumpy, and average at best."

He stared at you in silence for a long moment, shock evident in his features. "While I appreciate the compliments, doll, that's not what I see when I look at you."

You almost didn't want to ask, but you had to know. "What do you see?" you whispered.

He moved closer to you so he could take your hand in his. "I see a beautiful woman with warm, caring eyes, and a gentle heart. I see a woman who makes me laugh, a woman who's witty and charming and brilliant. I see the kind of woman I can imagine a future with."

You were breathless by the time he'd finished speaking. No man had ever said anything like that to you before, even before you'd put on weight.

"Do you want more details? I can give you more," he said softly as he leaned forward so his body hovered over yours. You were caged in the corner of the couch and for the first time in a long time, you felt tiny.

You couldn't find the words, so you simply nodded.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips. "I see the sexiest woman I've ever met--a woman I've wanted to touch since the moment I laid eyes on her. Every part of her gorgeous body is perfect...and I want to claim it all as mine," he finished with a soft growl.

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to just do something and you finally gave in. You wanted this as much as he did, so why not indulge?

You leaned forward and crashed your lips against his, moaning softly as he pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, desperate to feel as much of you as he could.

You shifted beneath him, allowing him to settle between your legs. He wedged his knee against your crotch and brought his hands down to your sides.

You moaned softly as his lips began to trace your jaw line, then down your neck, then to the sweet spot behind your ear.

You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered, "You're so beautiful." You shivered involuntarily and your hips bucked forward in search of friction.

He chuckled softly. "Needy, are we?"

"Yes," you admitted, allowing the desperation to creep into your voice. "Need you."

"Oh sweet thing, don't you worry, I'll take care of you."

"Elliot," you whimpered softly.

He groaned. "God I love hearing you say my name like that."

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you against him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and he whispered, "Good girl."

You shuddered, the praise going right to your core. It didn't go unnoticed by him, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later.

"Where's the bedroom?"

You pointed to the right and he stood up with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala. "Elliot!" you yelped.

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Don't worry, baby, I got you."

He carried you to your room with ease, tossing you onto the bed like you weighed nothing more than a rag doll. You'd never been so turned on in your damn life.

He climbed on the bed, covering you with his large form. His lips sought yours again, latching onto you like you were his lifeline. Your left hand trailed up his back, your fingers gently clutching the hairs at the back of his head.

He continued to kiss you, but your mind began to wander. You thought about seeing him in the gym earlier that morning and your body started to heat up even more. You wanted to see all of him, not just his arm muscles.

You gripped the edge of his shirt and tugged harshly, desperate to get it off him as fast as possible. He chuckled softly as he sat up, just long enough to take off his shirt.

He was back on top of you before you could register the view--and you found yourself annoyed. An idea popped into your head and you smirked against his lips. He might be a hell of a lot stronger than you, but you had the element of surprise.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again, pulling him towards you so you could lock your ankles around him. His groan quickly turned into a gasp of surprise when you flipped him onto his back. You smiled down at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked lightly.

"I wanted to see you better...so I'm in control now."

He didn't often give up control anywhere, let alone the bedroom, but you looked so pleased with yourself that he couldn't help but acquiesce.

Your eyes had drifted from his face to his exposed torso. He watched as your hands followed the curve of his muscles, eyes drinking in every inch of his skin. The way you looked at him was intoxicating--it was like a drug he didn't wanna quit.

Your eyes flicked back up to his and he saw the unbridled lust in them. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not flip you over and fuck you senseless. All he could think about was hearing you screaming his name, but he knew he had to wait. He had a feeling it would be worth it.

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and he immediately grabbed your hips and tugged you onto his abdomen. He wanted you to be a little bit closer so he could touch every part of you. His hands slowly slid under the hem of your shirt and for a moment, you froze--panic rising in your chest.

Elliot saw it flicker across your face, so he stopped moving, but he didn't remove his hands. He wanted to make sure you knew he was only stopping to make sure you were comfortable, not because he found something he didn't like.

"Can I keep going?" he whispered.

You nodded cautiously, so he slowly moved his hands farther up your belly. He enjoyed the feeling of your soft curves and he had a feeling he was really going to enjoy holding onto you while he fucked you.

He reached the edge of your bra and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was okay for him to continue. You didn't tell him to stop, so he slid his hands up over your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. You released a soft sigh and he did his best to keep moving at a slow pace, despite wanting to literally rip your clothes off.

You allowed him to pull your shirt up and over your head, and it took all the energy you had not to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. When you saw the look on his face--the hunger in his eyes--you suddenly didn't feel as self-conscious as before. Your body reacted to him in the same way his reacted to you, and you felt the desperation begin to creep in.

You shifted your hips, seeking some kind of friction against his body, while your nails raked down his chest. He groaned softly, but his hands didn't leave your body. Instead, they slipped around to your back and quickly unhooked your bra.

The moment your breasts came into full view, his hands began to massage and knead them, fingers pinching and twisting your nipples gently.

You moaned and dug your nails into his sides, gripping them for stability. He looked up at you, at your dark, lust-filled eyes, and he lost control for a moment. He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a little yelp in surprise.

That yelp quickly turned to deep moans as his mouth attached to your breasts, sending bolts of pleasure through your body. His hands fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants--he was about 3 seconds away from ripping them when he finally got the buttons undone.

"Why are women's dress pants so complicated? There are literally THREE buttons." he mumbled against your skin.

You laughed warmly, knowing he was right. "Try wearing them sometime."

He grinned up at you. "They look better on you, but..." he tugged your pants off and tossed them onto the floor. "...just as I thought, they look much better on the floor."

You chuckled at his joke and rolled your eyes. You were about to comment on the cheesiness of his statement, when he sat up and began removing his own pants. You were so focused on watching him that you forgot what you were about to say.

You eyed his bulge when it came into view and you began to pant with need. Elliot noticed and gave you a little smirk. "Want me to take these off?" he asked, gesturing to his boxers.

You nodded rapidly.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't catch that."

"Yes, please," you said aloud.

"Good girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips involuntarily--the praise going directly to your core.

His words had the desired effect on you and it only made him want you more. He tugged off his underwear and climbed back into the bed, but you stopped him with a gasp.

"Absolutely not," you said with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He followed your line of sight and realized you were staring directly at his dick. "Something wrong?"

"It's not gonna fit."

Elliot nearly collapsed in relief as he started to laugh. "Baby, you had me worried for a minute." He laughed again. "Don't worry, it'll fit."

You shook your head. "I might be a big girl, but my vagina isn't."

He laughed again. "You're perfect, baby, and I promise you, I'll be gentle."

You finally looked back up at him, eyes still filled with doubt. He offered you a warm smile and it helped to put you at ease. "Okay," you murmured. "I trust you."

"That's my girl." He climbed back on top of you and kissed you deeply.

When he broke off the kiss, he began to make his way down your body, lips never more than an inch away from your skin. He was dying to taste you and he was quite certain he'd waited long enough.

When he reached your core, his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure you were watching. He grabbed ahold of the edge of your panties with his teeth and tugged on them--pulling them down your body with nothing but his mouth.

You didn't know why the hell that was so hot, but good god it was. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Elliot's large body between your legs, mouth mere centimeters from where you needed him. You'd never imagined he'd look this damn good, nor did you imagine you would feel so comfortable baring yourself to him completely.

Elliot locked eyes with you as he placed soft kisses to your inner thighs and your pussy lips. He breathed in your scent as he did so, and he had to grip the bedsheets to keep from losing his control.

You were panting heavily, the anticipation nearly killing you. "Elliot, please," you whimpered, hips jerking slightly.

He smiled as he placed another kiss to your mound. "Please what, baby?"

"Do something," you begged.

"Something?"

"Anything! Please!"

Normally he would have kept asking until you used your words and told him what you really wanted, but he was having a hard time resisting his own urges right now, so he decided to have mercy on you.

He dove into you with abandon, mouth working you in ways you'd never imagined. It was like having a sex god between your legs--not that you'd ever say that to him, he'd probably find it blasphemous--but in that moment, you couldn't be bothered to care.

Your nails raked against his scalp as you struggled to find purchase somewhere on his body. Your hands finally came to rest on his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life.

Your body jerked beneath him, the pleasure so immense that he had to hold you down to keep you from squirming away from him. He glanced back up at your face to make sure you were enjoying it--and was met with the most beautiful sight.

Your head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth open as you moaned and panted. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath you took. He wished he could see your face better, but it was more than obvious you were enjoying yourself.

He somehow learned exactly what you liked, and what you needed, without you having to say a single word. You were more than pleased because you were certain you couldn't actually speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and something that closely resembled his name.

His fingertips were digging into your hips as he held you in place--his grip so tight it was sure to leave bruises. Your legs began to shake around him and your thighs started to close in on his head, but he was more than happy to wear your legs like earmuffs.

Your moans rose in volume and length, signaling you were close. Your nails dug deeper into his biceps, pressing crescent shapes into his skin. It would have been painful in any other setting, but he was more than delighted to bear the pain.

He knew you were close to orgasm, so he sped up his movements, tongue dancing against your clit with expert precision.

You gasped his name, hips jerking against him as you came. He held on tightly as he helped you ride out your high--not stopping even as you began to whimper.

"Too sensitive, Elliot," you gasped.

He lifted his head long enough to say, "I'm not done," before diving in with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the intensity of the sensations and within seconds you could feel a second orgasm building within you.

He lifted his head again. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"No!" you practically yelled. Your hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down and he chuckled warmly at your insistence.

"I didn't think so," he mumbled before licking his way back into your pussy.

Unlike your first orgasm, your second hit you suddenly and quickly--rendering you nearly speechless. You could do nothing but gasp for air as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to drown you in an ocean of passion.

Elliot finally lifted his head, a satisfied smirk resting on his handsome features. You looked down at him, breathless and wide eyed, and he felt his body heat up.

He moved with such speed that it surprised you, nearly pouncing on top of you, mouth mere inches from yours. He seemed to be studying your face and for a moment you felt embarrassed--unaccustomed to such a lustful expression on another person's face.

But the way he looked at you--the desire evident in his eyes--simultaneously put you at ease and made you want him with renewed desire.

He touched your cheek, which was flushed bright red. He could feel the heat radiating from it and he liked being the cause of such a reaction. "You look beautiful like this," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned a darker crimson and he smiled, knowing he'd caused that as well. "I like you like this," he murmured. "Laid out beneath me, pretty eyes wide, lips parted, hair a mess...I've never seen anything so sexy."

"Elliot," you whispered. You didn't know what else to say, so you let your body do the talking for you. You tugged him down to you, lips latching onto his as you kissed him hungrily.

He lowered himself to be closer to you, careful not to put his weight on top of you--he didn't want to hurt you. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You moaned softly, hips pressing upward against his pelvis. His cock brushed against your core, earning a groan from deep in his chest.

You liked the sound he made and you were desperate to hear more of them, so you did it again, this time more slowly and with more pressure. He pressed against you, his own body seeking friction of its own volition.

You slipped your dominant hand between your bodies and wrapped it around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you stroked upward. He groaned and his hips bucked against your hand.

Even though he was on top of you, you felt like you were in control...and you were going to use it to your advantage. You slipped the head of his cock between your folds, sliding it upward against your clit. He groaned and bit down into the soft flesh of your neck and you gasped at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

You were about to do it again, but Elliot pulled just out of reach. "Baby if you keep doing that, I'm gonna lose control."

Your eyes widened innocently. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he croaked.

"What if I want you to lose control? What if I like the idea of you fucking me like a feral wild animal? I want you to fuck me so well I can't walk tomorrow. Make me scream, Elliot. Please."

The seductive tone in your voice morphed into a plea at the end--a plea Elliot could not refuse. Not when you looked so gorgeous and needy beneath him...not when you said his name like that...not when you begged him to fuck you like he'd been dreaming about for months.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub it gently against your entrance, earning soft moans of pleasure from you. He knew you would feel incredible, but he was trying to hang onto whatever sanity he had left.

"Relax for me, baby," he whispered gently. He felt the tension in your body ease a little, but he needed you to be completely relaxed or he was definitely going to hurt you.

He gently rubbed circles into your hips, trying to calm your racing heart. "I've got you, doll. I'll go real slow, okay?"

You nodded, expression still worried.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you softly. "You tell me to stop, I stop, okay? No matter what."

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered.

He smiled gently. "Just in case, baby." He kissed you again before assuming his previous position. "Just relax, beautiful. It'll feel so good--I know you're ready for me."

You relaxed your body as much as you could, but nothing could have properly prepared you for the stretch you were about to experience.

Elliot began to slowly enter you, eyes never leaving your face. Every time you winced or inhaled sharply, he wanted to stop, but you told him to keep going.

Once he fully bottomed out, your breathing was ragged as your body adjusted to his size. He was using every ounce of will power he'd ever had to just stay still.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," he managed to groan out. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy spasmed around him as the words "good girl" registered in your brain. You suddenly needed him to move...

The moment he felt you clench around him, something inside of him snapped and it was game over for him. Whatever self-control he'd had went out the window and he started to move, setting a fast pace from the start.

Your cries mixed with his groans as he slammed into you with force. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he worried he was hurting you, but one look at your face shut that voice down instantly.

You looked much like you did when he'd been eating you out, only this time he had a view of your face. It was a sight to behold--one he didn't think he'd ever get over.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered.

"Please, El--" you whimpered.

He wasn't sure what you needed and you didn't appear to be in any position to tell him, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He shifted his body so your hips were angled up, one leg on either side of head. As he thrust into you, you cried out desperately, hands fisting the sheets beside you.

He felt as the head of his cock hit that soft spot inside you--and he knew he couldn't stop now. He kept up his pace, slamming into your g-spot with each thrust.

The sounds coming from your mouth were incredible--he wanted to hear them every single day for the rest of his life. You were shaking with pleasure, body writhing against him as he struggled to keep you in place.

He needed to feel you cum around his cock at least once before he found his own release...so all of his focus was on getting you to your next orgasm.

He started to murmur dirty things to you, noticing the way your body reacted to his words. "Your pussy feels so good, baby. So tight and warm--I could stay here all night."

You were way too far gone to respond verbally, but your body told him everything he needed to know.

"You're taking me so well--squeezing so tight."

He placed soft, sloppy kisses to your calves, hips never slowing their intense pace.

"This is my pussy, you hear me? Mine. I'm gonna make sure she feels so good, baby."

You moaned loudly--clearly liking the idea of being his.

"You like that, huh? You like knowing you're mine? Like knowing I'm marking you? No one else will ever compare, baby--gonna ruin you."

"Elliot!" you screamed as your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

The feeling of your orgasm triggered his own, sending him spiraling over the edge with a deep groan and whispers of your name. He filled you with his seed, letting your legs fall to either side of his hips as he stuttered his last few thrusts.

He collapsed on top of you, whispering your name against your skin like a prayer. He kissed your jaw and your neck--the affection warming your heart as you lay beneath him, slowly coming down from your high.

After several moments, Elliot pulled out of you and rolled onto his back. You both lay on the bed, breathless, as you tried to regain control of your heart rates.

Elliot grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours as he lay beside you. He turned to look at you and he smiled, taking in your beautiful post-sex glow.

You turned your head to look at him and smiled warmly. "That was..."

"Fucking incredible."

"I was gonna say decent," you teased.

He laughed and jokingly rolled away from you.

"Come back! I was kidding!" you called after him.

He kept laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you. "Come get me then."

"I can't move," you said simply.

He rolled back towards you, body now facing you. "Oh yeah? And it was just decent?"

"Decent--best sex of my life--same thing."

He grinned wolfishly and leaned in to kiss you. "That's more like it."

You rolled your eyes and affectionately smacked his arm. "Cocky, are we?"

"I know what I'm good at," he said with a shrug.

"Smart ass," you teased.

"But you like my ass," he teased back.

"It does look nice in those jeans you sometimes wear. Makes me wanna bite it."

"Oooo, kinky."

You both laughed.

Elliot looked down and his expression immediately sobered.

"What's wrong?"

"I--I didn't--I was so caught up..."

"What?"

He looked back up at you, a look of regret on his handsome face. "I didn't even think about putting on a condom, (Y/N)...I--God, I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "No need to worry. I trust that you're clean."

"I am," he assured you. "But what about...pregnancy?"

"Oh," you brushed him off. "We definitely don't need to worry about that. I have a tiny sperm murderer living in my uterus."

"You have a what?"

You laughed. "I have an IUD."

He started laughing too. "Oh! 'Sperm murderer'..." he mumbled as he laughed even harder.

You grinned ear to ear. "I was gonna call it a tiny copper knight defending my honor, but I figured that was too much."

"You're so weird," he teased. "Come here."

You giggled as he grabbed you and dragged you against his chest. He held you tightly as he kissed your skin softly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Elliot..."

"You are," he insisted.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly beautiful, but more importantly, you felt seen. He knew who you were and wanted you anyway. He liked you for you...and he liked your body, which was really just a bonus.

"What are you thinking about?"

"If we should get a shower...or go for round two?"

He groaned softly. "I'm an old man, doll."

You rolled over so you were on top of him. "Well that's just a pity...there's so much I wanna do to you."

His eyes seemed to burn as he looked at you. There was absolutely no way in hell he could say no to you. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"At least you'll die a happy man."

He grinned. "No man has ever been happier."

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and pulled you down to him, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your last coherent thought before Elliot sent you into orgasmic oblivion again was I guess that's a yes for round two.

Love is Never Easy

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Wife!Reader

Summary: Elliot's temper and anger issues force a wedge between the two of you. You ask for a separation in the hopes that it pushes him to get the help he needs.

Warnings: Separation and talks of divorce. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), not super descriptive...this is about love making and connection.

"That tension in your jaw? Your vein pulsing in your forehead? The way you clench your hands into tight fists? It's rage, Elliot. Pure, intense rage."

"How the hell would you know how I'm feeling, huh? Are you psychic now?" he yelled.

"I can read the cues, Elliot. And I know you, better than anyone else. If you keep bottling it up, eventually you're going to explode. God only knows who you'll take with you when you do."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?!"

"It doesn't matter how many times you say it!" you yelled back. "A blind man can see you're not okay."

"You think because you're a shrink you know everything?"

"When it comes to you, I'm your wife, not a shrink. But I can't turn it off, Elliot. You need help."

"Screw you, (Y/N)."

He started to walk out the door and you felt your heart clench in your chest. You knew if he left, there was a good chance something terrible would happen.

"Just answer one question," you begged, stopping him in his tracks. "How many times have you thought about eating your gun?"

For the first time since the argument had begun, Elliot was speechless. You had never asked him that before and he didn't know how to answer you. He didn't know how to tell you that he thought about it all the time. He didn't know how to tell you that he'd almost made you a widow more times than he could count.

Even when he wasn't thinking about killing himself, he was making decisions that put him in danger...way beyond the typical line of duty scenarios. He put himself in harm's way so often it had almost become second nature. He tried never to think about you getting a knock on the door...his partner and his captain telling you he was gone.

If he thought about those things, then he couldn't be reckless. He couldn't make those poor choices. As it stood, those choices were already killing him inside. He'd pulled away from you long before you'd put the separation on the table. What was the point in hurting you more than he already had?

"Suicide's a sin," he mumbled.

"This isn't about religion. This is about you and the choices you make."

When he turned to look at you, his eyes were haunted--filled with a pain so deep you couldn't begin to comprehend it. You took a step towards him, desperate not to lose him. "Talk to me, Elliot. Just talk to me."

His heart ached hearing you plead like that. It wasn't in your nature to beg, and here you were begging for the second time in less than a minute. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," you pleaded.

To your surprise, he turned around, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall and ran his fingers over his face, emotion covering every inch of it. "You don't just wanna leave and get this over with?"

"Is that really what you want me to do? Do you I believe I think so little of our marriage?"

"No," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Then for once, Elliot, please. Just be honest with me."

He stared at the floor for several moments before deciding to answer you, eyes never leaving the ground. "I think about it all the time, but I'm more inclined to be reckless than I am to eat my own gun."

You were taken aback by his words. You hadn't really expected him to be honest with you and you certainly hadn't expected him to give you that answer.

"Do you want to fix this?" you asked softly, unsure if you really wanted the answer.

He finally looked up at you. "I don't wanna lose you."

"Then get help."

**********

It had been six long months since you'd begged Elliot to get help. Six months since you'd told him you wanted to separate. Six months since you'd taken the kids and moved in with your sister.

You only saw Elliot on weekends when he came to pick up the kids, and even then it was only briefly. The only news you ever got about him came from Olivia when she would call you to give you an update.

You'd never wanted to split up...never wanted a divorce...never wanted to lose him. But you had to protect yourself and your kids. Plus, you wanted to shock him into getting help. Asking for a separation was the only thing you could think of to push him into finally talking to someone.

You had no idea if he was going to therapy or not. He'd never told you and you didn't ask. For the first time in 15 years, you felt like it wasn't your place to pry. If he wanted to open up to you, then he would do it on his own.

You were sitting at your desk, thinking about the past, remembering things you'd long since forgotten. Most of your memories with Elliot were good, but this wasn't a happy trip down memory lane.

You remembered when you got pregnant with your first child. Elliot had just joined the NYPD and you were settling into your new job with the FBI as a forensic psychiatrist.

When Elliot found out you were pregnant, he was thrilled...but as the days went on, his mood shifted. You started to worry about whether he actually wanted this baby or not, a concern you'd never had before.

One day, you finally gathered the courage to ask him what was going on. "El...do you not want this baby?" you'd whispered.

He'd been shocked. "Of course I do, doll! You know I've always wanted a family, especially with you."

"Then why don't you seem happy?"

He'd grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. A look of sadness had crossed over his features and he whispered his biggest fear aloud for only you and God to hear, "What if I'm like my dad?"

You knew his past. You knew how his father had treated him. What was worse was you knew exactly how badly it had damaged him. But you also knew him.

"If I know anything for certain, I know this," you began. You gently lifted his chin so he was looking into your eyes. "You are not your father. You are kind, loving, and gentle...and I know you're going to treat this baby as reverently as you treat me."

The memory almost hurt to think about now. You hadn't been wrong...Elliot was nothing like his father, but he'd carried that hurt with him for almost 40 years. It affected him in ways even he didn't want to admit.

You sighed loudly, trying to will the memory away. You didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Am I interrupting?"

You looked up with a smile. "Never. What's up?"

Your partner and close friend, George Huang, entered your office. "I heard the dramatic sigh. You okay?"

You shrugged. "Taking a trip down memory lane. It's nothing."

He gave you a look that said he wasn't at all convinced, but he didn't pry. "How are the kids?"

"They're all doing really well, considering. The twins keep asking when daddy is coming home."

He nodded his understanding. "And how is Elliot?"

"You'd know better than me. You're the one that sees him all the time."

"Only because you refuse to go to the precinct."

"It would be awkward and you know it."

He sighed. "Do you want my opinion?"

You groaned. "Professional or friend?"

"A little of both."

"Fine--go on."

He sat down in the chair closest to your desk. "He's different, (Y/N/N). Anyone can see that he's trying and the whole squad has noticed it, myself included. As your friend, I really think you should talk to him."

"What if he doesn't wanna talk to me?"

Huang gave you a look that said it all. "If you don't know how much that man loves you, then you're an idiot." He held up his hand to stop your protest. "And I know you're not an idiot. Talk to him, (Y/N/N). He needs you."

He got up and left your office without another word, leaving you to sit there and think about what you were gonna do next.

**********

It took a couple weeks, but you finally decided to take Huang's advice. You'd called Elliot and asked him to meet you for dinner at a little diner near the office.

You arrived about 10 minutes early and to your surprise, Elliot had already gotten a table and was waiting for you. It was very unlike him to be on time...let alone early.

He stood up when he saw you walk in, but when you reached the table, it became evident he didn't know what to do.

"Can I hug you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. He pulled you against him tightly and held on, as if he was terrified of letting go.

You pulled away and gestured for him to sit back down. You slid into the booth across from him and began to study him. You knew you shouldn't...but you wanted--needed--to know where his head was.

He actually looked shockingly good, better than he had in a long time. His eyes were clear and bright, and the bags that had once lingered under them were gone. He was clean shaven and his hair had recently been trimmed. All in all, he looked healthy and perhaps even happy.

"You look good," you commented softly.

"So do you."

You knew for a fact you did not look good...but you appreciated the lie. Being apart from him for so long had really taken its toll on you, as had taking care of the kids by yourself. You were tired, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

You looked down at the clothes you were wearing and felt a twinge of embarrassment. Your shirt was more wrinkled than you would have liked and you were pretty sure you'd accidentally gotten bleach on your black pants, as evidenced by the odd reddish stain you hadn't noticed that morning. You'd come straight to the diner from work, so you hadn't had time to change.

"I look like I slept on a park bench last night," you grumbled as you tried to smooth down your shirt.

Elliot chuckled, the sound clear and crisp. "You look as beautiful as the day I met you...cheesy as that may sound."

You blushed. "It ranks up there with cheesiest comments you've ever made."

He smiled. "It's nice to see you, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I mean really see you."

You simply nodded. You weren't quite ready to talk about the separation yet. "How have you been?"

He sighed, noting your subtle avoidance. "It was hard at first--really damn hard--but I'm actually doing pretty well now." He paused. "I, uh--I started seeing a therapist."

Your face lit up in surprise. You hadn't expected him to be honest with you so quickly. "Really? That's great."

"Yeah, it's actually been surprisingly helpful. I feel like I've broken down a lot of those barriers I had up, ya know? It was awful at first, but once I started talking, it was like I couldn't stop. For a while there, I was going twice a week. Now I'm down to biweekly and the doc says I'll probably be able to go to once a month soon."

You felt a little jolt of pride warm your chest. You were proud of him for owning his issues and for working to make himself better. All you ever wanted was for him to start to heal...if he couldn't talk to you, then he might as well talk to someone who could help him.

"George mentioned you'd been going to therapy. He said you were doing really well."

His expression soured slightly. "Huang told you?"

"He is my partner, you know." You sighed. "If it makes you feel better, he only told me a couple weeks ago."

"It's not that I didn't want you to know or anything...I just kinda wanted to be the one to tell you."

"When were you planning on telling me, El?"

"I don't know...I figured I'd just mention it when I picked up or dropped off the kids."

"You've been going to therapy for how long?"

"Almost 7 months."

"I'm proud of you, Elliot, I really am. But I wish you would have told me sooner."

"I'm sorry."

Your eyes widened slightly. "I...I can't remember the last time you apologized to me for something."

He looked down at the table. "I know. It's one of things we've been working on."

"I appreciate your apology," you whispered. "It's just--If I'd known about the therapy, I probably would have arranged this meeting sooner."

"Really?"

He seemed genuinely surprised and it broke your heart a little. "I missed you, El. Every single moment of every day for the last 7 months."

His eyes widened in surprise. "I--I didn't know."

A look of hurt flashed across your face.

"I just figured you wanted to get away from me," he said quickly. "I mean, you're the one who asked for the separation."

You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "I never intended to hurt you, Elliot. I just wanted you to get the help you needed. I..." you sighed. "I missed the man I love, the man I married, the wonderful loving husband and father...I just wanted him back."

He squeezed your hand. "I didn't even realize how far away I'd gotten from the person I was, but when I did, it was too late. You'd already pulled away and then we had that big fight and that was it...you moved out and I had to try and piece my life back together."

You swallowed thickly. "Something needed to get your attention, Elliot. My words weren't enough. I asked for the separation because I thought it would force you to get help. I never intended to take it any farther than that."

He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "I know," he whispered against your skin. "I think it saved me, (Y/N)--I really do."

"I'm glad, El. I really am." I just hope it saves us.

As if he read your mind, he spoke your thought into existence, "I hope it's enough to save us, baby. I still love you more than anything in this life."

Your heart skipped a beat just like it used to when you were young and madly in love with the man sitting across from you. "Nothing's changed for me. I love you more now than I ever have."

"Even after everything I've done? Everything I've said? All those times I let my temper get the best of me?"

"Even after all of that."

"I'm not sure I deserve it."

"You have my love and my forgiveness, Elliot. They're mine to give and I give them to you freely," you said gently. "It may surprise you, but I always knew why your temper was so intense, why you'd fly off the handle at the smallest thing...but you never wanted to open up to me, so I couldn't help you. I did the only thing I could think of to help you help yourself."

"I'll be forever grateful, (Y/N)."

"Me too."

He looked at you quizzically, so you elaborated.

"I'm grateful for your strength, your perseverance...for your willingness to change. And I will always be grateful for your love."

"It means a lot to me, (Y/N/N)."

"I always had faith in you, El."

He smiled, but the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. There was something more...something that was clearly bothering him.

Much to your surprise, you didn't have to prod him for answers. "What about us, (Y/N)?"

"I always hoped the separation would be temporary."

"We were broken long before the separation, doll. As much as I don't want to admit it, it's the truth."

A look of sadness crossed your face. "I know."

"Can we fix it?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

"I'll never stop trying," you whispered back. "I'm not ready to give up on us, Elliot."

"Neither am I. I never wanna lose you," he admitted. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

"I think this is a good start," you responded softly.

"Forgiveness," he said simply. "Forgive ourselves and each other."

You nodded. "Forgiveness."

The two of you spent several hours at the diner--talking, eating, laughing, even crying. It felt good to be with each other like this...to hash out so many things that needed to be said, deal with all the things that needed to be handled.

Before you knew it, your watch read 10pm. You hadn't even realized you'd been siting there for so long. "Shit, it's 10! The kids will probably already be in bed."

Elliot looked at his watch in surprise. "I didn't even realize it was so late. Stay here--I'll go pay the bill and then I'll walk you out."

A few minutes later, he came back to the table to get you.

"Where'd you park?"

"I took the subway, actually."

"Oh, um...can I at least drive you home? Or if you don't want me to do that, I can call you a cab--"

"I would love if you took me home," you said, cutting him off.

He seemed relieved. He hated the idea of you being out late at night, completely alone. He couldn't guarantee you'd be safe in a cab anymore than the subway. "My car's this way."

He started walking down the sidewalk and you fell in step beside him. It was a chilly evening and you'd been completely unprepared for the drop in temperature. After a few minutes, you started to shiver, the cold cutting right through your thin shirt.

Elliot took notice immediately. "Take my jacket, baby. It's cold." He started to shrug it off and before you could protest, he cut you off. "You're freezing, so take the jacket. No fuss."

You accepted it gratefully, the warmth flooding your body the moment you put it on. "Thank you," you said softly.

"You're welcome."

As you continued to walk, his scent washed over you with every breath you took. His jacket smelled like him and it enveloped you in a warm cocoon of Elliot. His scent was even more intoxicating than you were used to, perhaps because you hadn't smelled it in so long.

You tentatively brushed your hand against his, gauging his reaction to the touch. Unlike you, he didn't hesitate--he intertwined his fingers with yours in such a familiar way, it almost made you cry. You hadn't realized how much you'd missed this...all those little things the two of you stopped doing ages ago. All the little ways you showed love or affection had seemingly died off, but what scared you most was that you hadn't really noticed.

"When did we stop touching each other?" you whispered aloud.

"What?"

You hadn't even realized you'd said anything out loud until he spoke. "Oh--I was umm...I was just wondering when we stopped being affectionate? I--well, I don't remember the last time we held hands."

His eyes darkened with sorrow. "Neither do I. I can't pinpoint an exact moment--all I know is that I missed this. So much."

"I missed you," you whispered. "In all the ways you can miss someone."

You'd just reached his car when you stopped talking. Elliot opened the door for you, but you didn't get in. He'd always been good at reading you, just as you were good at reading him. Years of loving someone will do that to you.

He took a step towards you so his body was mere inches away from yours. You looked up at him and your breath caught in your chest. As you stood there feeling like a love-struck teenager, all you could think was please kiss me.

As if Elliot heard your thoughts, he leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours with a tenderness you'd long since forgotten. Your hands rested on his hips and you pulled him closer to you, desperate to feel his warmth.

The tenderness quickly turned to something darker, something more primal. You needed him--and he needed you--like a drowning man needs oxygen. He was your drug of choice, always had been, and you knew you'd never be able to quit him.

Elliot pressed his body up against yours, leaning you back against the frame of the car. He held onto you, lips parting to deepen the kiss.

You needed to breathe and you suspected he did too, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. It was you and him, locked in a passionate embrace you never wanted to end.

But it had to end eventually--the survival instinct kicked in and you pulled away from each other, completely breathless. You both sucked in air desperately as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Baby..." he whispered.

"Take me home," you begged.

He pulled away instantly, a look of hurt crossing his handsome face. "I'm sorry, (Y/N/N), I didn't mean to--I shouldn't have--"

You grabbed him and tugged him to you so you could kiss him again. When you let him go, he stared at you in stunned silence. "Take me home, Elliot. Please."

He started to smile as the realization crossed his face. He'd thought you were asking him to take you to your sister's...not home. "You've got it, doll."

You smiled warmly as he helped you into the car before practically running to the driver's side. You chuckled lightly, his haste making you roll your eyes affectionately.

As soon as he was in the car, he was off--speed limit be damned.

"Babe, if you wreck this car, I swear..."

He laughed. "I won't, I promise. I just need to get my girl home, okay? She asked so nicely."

You chuckled again. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way--like a giddy schoolgirl or a horny teenager. As opposed as you were to breaking traffic laws, you decided to let it slide this time--the need to get home as soon as possible was really all you could think about.

In what had to be record-breaking time, Elliot pulled into the driveway of the home the two of you had shared together for almost 10 years. You hadn't been inside in months, but right now there was only one room you cared to see.

Elliot didn't even make it around the front of the car before you were closing your door and making your way to the house. He chuckled lightly as he ran after you, arms snaking around your waist to you pull you back against his chest.

"What's the rush, baby?"

"I need you, Elliot, and I need you now. Are you really gonna make me wait?"

The dark, seductive tone in your voice nearly brought him to his knees. "No ma'am," he insisted. Then he scooped you up like he did when you were both a lot younger and carried you to the door like you were his brand new blushing bride.

"Elliot!" you yelled, laughter clouding your voice. "Put me down! You're gonna strain your back."

He laughed too, but he didn't put you down. "Don't underestimate my strength, baby. Besides, you're light as a feather."

"You lie, but I love it."

He grinned as he carried you across the threshold. "I would never."

Instead of putting you down once you were inside the house, he continued to carry you towards the stairs. "Absolutely not!"

"I'm not gonna drop you."

"No, but we might fall down the stairs!" You started to squirm to make your point.

"Fine, fine. But only because trying to hold onto you now would probably be a death sentence." He sat you down gently. "Crazy woman," he teased as he leaned in to kiss you.

"Lock the door and meet me upstairs," you said before running up the steps to your bedroom.

He grinned ear to ear, and made sure to lock the front door before racing after you.

When he reached the bedroom you'd shared for almost a decade, his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him. Somehow in the 10 second head start you'd had, you managed to get down to nothing but your bra and panties. You were laying on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly, a look of heady desire on your face.

"Aren't you gonna come in?"

Elliot smiled and stepped into the room. "I was just admiring the view."

You smirked. "See something you like?"

"I see someone I love."

Your expression softened and you reached out for him. "Come here, baby."

He slipped his shoes off and made his way over to the bed.

"Wait--maybe take off your shirt and pants first."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Unless you want me to rip them off."

He laughed. "As sexy as that might be, I don't want to be vacuuming up buttons for the next month."

You laughed softly and watched as he quickly undressed. "Lose the undershirt too, while you're at it."

"When did you get to be so demanding?" he teased before complying with your request.

"You love it," you teased back.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over you. His lips grazed your ear, as he whispered, "You know I do."

When he kissed you this time, you felt all the years of love the two of you shared, all the things you'd left unsaid for so long, and all the emotions you had both been holding back.

Love wasn't easy--it was messy and imperfect, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. Very few people were blessed with true love and those that were knew to hold onto it. You had come so close to losing it--losing him--but you'd never let yourself really feel that loss. His gentle loving touch reminded you of everything you'd come so close to losing and it brought tears to your eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, noticing your tears. He brushed back your hair and he wiped a tear from your cheek. "What's wrong, doll?"

"Nothing, El," you assured him. "Everything is just right."

"You don't usually cry when I kiss you."

You laughed lightly and wiped your eyes. You reached up to touch his face and he leaned into your palm. "Losing you is my biggest fear," you whispered. "I came so close...I never want to feel that way again."

"You won't," he murmured as his eyes turned glossy. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sighed softly. "Make love to me, Elliot Stabler."

"Your wish is my command, (Y/N) Stabler."

Hips lips met yours again in a searing kiss. The way he touched you, held you, kissed you--it was passionate and loving, and you were once again reminded that it had been years since you'd made love like this.

His hands were gentle, but firm, as if he wanted to make sure you knew he wasn't going anywhere. The room was filled with nothing but his gentle whispers of affection and your soft moans of enjoyment.

By the time he was ready to enter you, you were already teetering on the brink, your body vibrating with need. He slid inside of you in one quick thrust, and you gasped his name in his ear.

There was nothing rushed about the way he moved, despite the pent up desire you'd both experienced. He gave you what you needed and accepted what you gave him. The soft sounds you made spurred him on, his need to hear you reach your peak his driving force.

"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.

You kissed him breathlessly. "And I love you."

There were a thousand things he wanted to tell you, a million sweet nothings, but those would have to wait. He had forgotten what it felt like to be so deeply connected to another person--so intimately intertwined. It was a feeling he could never put into words and he'd only ever felt it with you.

"I missed this," he murmured. "I missed you."

"I missed us," you whispered in return.

In truth, he'd missed everything about being with you. He would have sold his soul if it meant he never had to leave you. He imagined you wouldn't be particularly fond of such a thought, but he couldn't help the way he felt. You were his world and he would have done anything to keep you.

"I'm close," you gasped, nails digging into the flesh of his broad back.

"Hang on for a little longer, baby. I want you to cum with me."

"I don't think I can."

"Yes you can, doll. Do it for me."

You nodded and dug your nails in a little deeper, as if the reflex kept you from falling over the edge.

Elliot groaned softly, the pain mixing with the pleasure in just the right way. He knew he was going to have marks on his back tomorrow and he would wear them with pride.

His pace quickened slightly and your moans began to increase in volume. You continued to clutch onto him and your core spasmed around him, pulling him closer to the edge.

"I'm almost there, baby," he murmured.

You whined, unable to verbally beg him to speed up.

He took the hint and changed his pace again, chasing his own high. He knew you couldn't hold on much longer, but he was desperate to feel you reach your climax at the same time as him.

"Need to cum," you begged.

"Almost, baby."

You whined again, but you continued to hold on.

He knew he was seconds away from orgasming, but he waited until the very last moment to whisper in your ear, "Cum for me."

The moment those words left his lips, the cord in your abdomen snapped and you cried out as the wall of pleasure slammed into you. Elliot came at the same moment, a cry of your name ripped from his throat as he filled you with his seed.

You clung to each other as you began to come down from your highs, unwilling or unable to let go. Elliot collapsed on top of you and you held on tightly, enjoying the feeling of his warm body enveloping yours.

Through the haze of pleasure, you were reminded of how incredible sex was when it was with someone who loved and respected you as much as you loved and respected them. There was nothing special about the sex itself...it was missionary position for crying out loud, but the person you were making love with is what made it special.

"You are my heart and soul, Elliot. I could never love anyone the way I love you." You whispered the words into his hair, almost hoping he didn't hear you.

He didn't move for a long moment--so long, in fact, that you thought he may have simply fallen asleep. Then he lifted his head to look at you and the words he said would stick with you for the rest of your life.

"I never knew what love was until I met you--it was just a word, nothing special. I've been madly in love with you for as long as I can remember and I'll never want anything else. You are my everything, (Y/N)...my sun, my moon, my stars, my universe. You are branded on my soul for all of time."

That was, without a doubt, the most romantic thing he'd ever said to you--and he'd said a lot of romantic things in the past 15 years. Your eyes filled with emotion and you tried your hardest not to cry.

He pulled himself up and leaned over you to kiss you gently and sweetly, a kiss you returned gladly. When he pulled away, he laid down beside you and tugged you to him, not quite ready to let go of you.

You nuzzled into his chest with a sigh, perfectly content to stay right there forever.

Elliot kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly, making sure you knew he wasn't going to let you go. He knew there was still going to be a lot for the two of you to talk about, but you'd managed to reform a connection that you'd both lost, and he'd be damned if he let it break again.

He wasn't at all surprised when you spoke up as if you'd read his mind. "We still have a lot to talk about, El."

He chuckled softly. "I know, baby, but we'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. For now, I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

You sighed happily. "I think I can live with that."

It didn't take long for you both to fall asleep, the comfort of each other's arms all you needed to feel safe, protected, and so very loved. Love is never easy, but it is always worth it.

Until You Smile (Venom x Fem Reader)

Anon Requested:  May I request a Venom x reader story please? Like he’s trying to cheer her up by taking different blob forms and trying to look extra cute wanting to see her laugh again please?

“EDDIE… LET ME SEE HER….” Venom says within Eddie’s mind.

“I’m not sure if she wants that… She has been kind of touchy…” Eddie says with uncertainty.

Eddie and Venom can see you sitting on the couch curled up on your side. You had been upset all day. You came home yesterday from work and you seemed off, but Eddie didn’t question it and decided to make dinner for you, which you didn’t eat.

“PROBABLY BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT GOOD AT ATTRACTING A MATE IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

Keep reading

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."

eddie brock wanting to go out with reader, so she dresses up but venom takes over and compliments her in his own weird ways <3

Your ring nearly snags a thread on the inside left cup of your dress, and you carefully retract it before it can tear the garment. There's a lace edge beneath your bra that's itching something fierce, and you can't wait to take the dress off tonight.

Or, of course, have it taken off of you.

"Eddie?" You call through the apartment, now peering down at your necklace as you try laying it against your chest in a particular way, "Ready to go, babe?"

"Yeah," He calls from the kitchen, the soles of his dress shoes clicking against the wood floor as he comes to find you, "I was thinking we could- woah."

His abrupt stop makes you glance up, and he's got his eyes glued to your dress. It's a new one, a rich brown hue that drapes down your frame like you're a modern-day Jessica Rabbit.

I take it you like the dress," You laugh, watching Eddie's cheeks go pink. He needs a moment to recover, and you're patient enough to give it to him, but venom isn't.

With a series of ungodly squelches the symbiote envelops your boyfriend, sharp, jagged teeth already set in a grin that barely holds back his massive tongue. His eyes are narrowed and it makes his grin that much more predatory, a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"I do not know why Eddie will not talk." Venom leans in, hulking figure crowding your own smaller one, "But I want to. You look delicious. You look like chocolate."

"Yeah?" You grin at Venom, fingers fiddling with the silky fabric of your dress, "Thanks, Venom."

"Do you know what I do to chocolate?" Venom leans in farther still, until you can feel his breath fan over your face. He's intoxicatingly large, and your vision is entirely taken up by him.

"I do," You laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek, "I've found enough massacred remains of hershey bars around this place to know you're not gentle with them."

"I would like to do that to you." Venom's tongue comes out to lick over his teeth, a slimy, dripping, circular path, "But for your comfort I think that we should do it on your bed."

"Not right now," You lament, leaning your forehead against his and kissing the space where his nose should be, "We have to eat first. But maybe you can arm wrestle Eddie for me later, big guy."

"I would win an arm wrestle." Venom boasts, thinking literally instead of picking up on the broader meaning of your words, "Eddie is a weak loser."

"A weak loser who's paying for my dinner tonight," You pinch at Venom's arm, though you're sure it doesn't hurt him, "Lemme see him again, V. We can't be late to this place or we'll lose our table."

Venom is very polite with you. He follows orders seamlessly, shrinking back into Eddie until the man's tanned skin breaks through the black goop that had been swarming it. He's on you in an instant, hands against your hips and nose knocking into yours, "You think I'm a weak loser?"

"No!' You laugh, kissing the smile he's trying to tamp down in the name of dramatics, and wriggling from his grip to grab your helmet off of the counter, "I just think Venom could beat you in an arm wrestle."

"It's true," Eddie calls after you, jogging to catch up as you head for the door, "But it's not nice!"

A vox machina oneshot

Vax x reader.

The reader has a card that allows them to swap places with the intended target depending on the intention behind it. They use it on vax and take his place as the raven queens champion just as she is about to take him away. They tell vax to go be with keyleth and live a full and happy life with her Unknown to the reader vax was in love with them the whole time. The last thing they say to him is a heart felt confession on their love for him before they dissapear. I know it's an angst one but if you want to make a fluffy ending it's up to you

Enjoy! 😘

They tried. Everyone tried. Every loophole, every possible way to weasel out of this deal with the goddess of death was exploited. All of them failed. They tried and they failed. At least they tried. The only regret Vax has is they wasted plenty of time on this unsolvable problem. He knew his time was running out. Even before he realised it. He knew that time would come where she’d pull his tether and he’d have to leave everyone being. She sent him out with a purpose and that’s now completed. Not even the greatest wish could change that. Especially not now. The deal is done. Vax accepts this. It took him a while but he does. It doesn’t make it any easier though. She gave him time to say goodbye. She didn’t have to. There is yet some mercy left in the cold dead heart of the Raven Queen, some compassion still beyond that broken mask. He got to say goodbye to you. 

This can’t be the end. This is not the way. You refuse to accept this fate. For all the love in your heart, for the bleeding hearts of your friends. They need him. You need him. He cannot just slip into oblivion to serve the goddess of death for eternity because of some cruel mistake. It’s neither just nor fair. This fate is a cruel one. Fate is cruel. You know it all too well. Life deals you a hand of cards when you are born. Some are born lucky. Others are lucky to be born. Some are destined for greatness. Others are doomed from the start. For entities that pretend to be benevolent and kind, they are not far off from the tyrant claiming themself king, or the evil mage enslaving the many. It all comes down to that hand of cards. You got lucky. For all the bullshit in your life you got your hand on one of those cards and you just happen to be good at that ethereal game of sleight of hand. It’s not cheating if there’s no rules. You drew from the deck of fate and you got lucky. That luck came with a curse though because you’d always know what the gravity of that decision would mean. 

You got your hands on a card that could change fate; your fate to be specific. You may have thought about it many times but by using that twist of fate you condemn another to yours. Could you live with yourself knowing that you took something from another for your own gain? Equally, would you sacrifice yourself for anyone down on their luck and willing to take their suffering instead? You know damn well why you didn’t use this cruel trinket. But now, it resurfaces again, it burns in your palm as you walk by Vex trying to hold herself together as she pats her brother on the shoulder with some witty remark. You nearly break when he pulls her into a hug and you see her tears spill. She wipes them away before he pulls back. Vax noticed either way. You notice all of them heartbroken. You’re heartbroken too. You don’t want him to go. He holds part of your heart after all. You’ve never told him so blatantly but it’s true no less. 

You see Keyleth falling apart at the seams. Vax tries to console her but he can’t. She holds his heart. He holds hers and he’ll be taking it with him whether he intends to or not. It hurts him to know he’ll leave his friends, his family, his love so hurt with his departure. You see the effect Vax has had on their lives, all of them, on yours. You know how much he means to them and that card of fate starts to become more and more appealing. You have a chance to save someone you love. You can make a change in order for him to change the world. You can give him a chance of life by throwing away your own to the service of some god and you’d do it without a second thought. You will. You’ve already made up your mind. The only reason why you haven’t yet is because you struggle to find the right words to tell him. You don’t think you can face him with this. What would he think of you to know you could have changed a fate so easily and never did. Are you truly so selfish? Were you truly not ready to until it came down to your own pain? You can’t keep avoiding this anymore and so you slip away.

Vax notices you retreating ever so slowly. How could he not? He might be light on his feet and it takes one to know one but he’d always notice your presence or lack thereof. The air changes and so does that strange coiling feeling within him whenever you’re near. It’s quite pleasant. He’s known it for a while now but with his impending doom, he could not bring himself to give into it, to give into you knowing he’d only break you. He made that choice for you he supposes but equally so for himself. He can’t look you in the eye while he’s torn away from you. He can’t face your tears. The others, it’s already hell on Exandria facing them but were he to face you, he’d be falling apart. You’ve been strong so long. He wishes he could be as strong as you. He doesn’t have the heart for it but he too has begun to see the cracks in your armour. Something’s amiss and when he sees you slowly retreat to the back of the room, away from the conversation, away from the people until you slip outside entirely, he feels that tether pull taut and he cannot but follow. 

Vax finds you out front. There’s something in your palm, a card he realises. Just the one. It’s got a golden sheen to it and you reach out to touch it. He sees your shoulders shaking and tense. You bite your lip. That’s when you let out a muffled sob. You’re not aware he’s there. You squeeze your eyes shut and tears spill. He takes a step closer to you. 

“If you had the power to change this fate, would you?” So you had noticed his approach. He couldn’t care less. You’re hurt. Not physically but you’re hurt either way and it breaks his heart. It’s yours after all, even if you don’t know it. You quickly put that golden card back in your pocket. You wipe away your tears and let out a shaky breath. 

“What do you mean?” He questions but the look you give him implies no humour and comes with a sense of urgency. “I don’t want to go. I’d much rather stay here with you, with them but I can’t. It was a worthy sacrifice and I’d make the choice a thousand times over.

“If-uh-“ You try to find the right words but can’t even look him in the eye. “If another could take that place and you could stay, would you stay?” He thinks for a second and then grows suspicious. 

“At what cost?” You shake your head.

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. You shouldn’t be spending this valuable time out here with me talking about this stupid-“ 

“Hey, hey- time spent with you is never wasted. I want you here with me, for as long as I have, for as long as you’ll have me.” You feel his palm agains your cheek, raising your gaze to meet his. You see that pained but kind smile. It only solidifies your choice. You know what to do. 

“Okay.” You squeak not able to keep your voice stable and Vax just simply pulls you into his embrace. That’s the last conversation you’d have with him until that fated moment, until the true goodbye. 

The goddess had come to lay claim to her champion, to the life she’s to call hers and the servitude she’s owed. The goodbye is a harrowed one but it’s not his goodbye. You look at Keyleth holding onto Percy who does his best to console her, Vex attempting to stay strong and stoic despite the tears running down her face and noticeable the death grip she has on Pike’s hand. Scanlan’s even struggling and so is Grog. The Raven Queen holds out her hand and beckons. Vax says goodbye to you last. He holds onto your hand, brings it to his chest. There’s no words he speaks but his eyes say it all. You take a step towards him and turn so you’re interposing between himself and the goddess. The others go alert, contemplating the prospects of killing the goddess and freeing the resident rogue form this cruel pact if you make the first move. Vax holds onto your hand still as if to keep you from doing something stupid or reckless against a literal god. Little does he know. 

“I invoke the blessing I have been given. I invoke the fate that was never mine and will share the burden of it. I trade my place for his as it is the right of the hand that was dealt to me. Fate wills it so, and so it shall be.” You remember the words well. Though you have never spoken them out loud. They are like a practiced speech. You’ve played them over in your mind; the script upon that  fated golden card and when it appears in your palm it glows that bright golden like the tethers of fate and memory the Raven Queen holds so dear. It certainly peaks her interest. 

“What are you doing?” Vax asks looking between you and the goddess. You glance back over your shoulder. 

“What I should have done the very moment this curse befell you. I’m sorry I could not do it before. I hope you can forgive me. You’ll be free.” 

“You can’t do this!” Desperation and despair are the ways of the mortal worlds, of those consumed by time and whims of circumstance. They are the ways of you and him and everyone around you. 

“It’s okay, Vax. It’s okay. I’ve made my choice. They need you more than they need me. I wish you a happy life. Even if I can’t be part of it.” 

“I need you.” He sounds so small, so broken and that alone makes you almost regret. Almost. But you wouldn’t reverse it. Even if you could. 

“Your heart belongs here. With Them. With your sister. With Keyleth. My heart belongs with you but you do not need it, not like they need you. It’s a worthy sacrifice.” You take a step closer towards the goddess but Vax does not let go of your hand. He holds on. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I love them. I love my sister, my friends, Keyleth. I love them. But I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you and I can’t let you do this.” Your heart stops right there in your chest. Your world comes apart. To have those words be spoken… You don’t even know what to do with them. You can’t breathe or speak or think for some moments. He loves you. He’s in love with you. Vax is in love with you and you’re about to leave him behind. You’ve made the right choice either way but it’s become a far more painful one now and you come to realise that’s exactly what he tried to protect you from by not mentioning before. You hate and love him for it. 

“It’s already done.” That stupid card dematerialises in a golden dust. and invisible breeze lets the dust weave into a tether to wrap around your free arm. You feel it burn and pull painfully so. You pull against the strain, toe to toe with Vax and softly place your lips against his. A final parting gift, for whom you’re unsure. “My fate is sealed. May you live a good life, Vax’ildan. May it be a long and merry one filled with love.” And that’s when you step away, in that brief moment where he lowers his guard and is forced to let you go. The golden tether pulls you in and away from him. The Raven Queen beckons you and you follow with one last glance over your shoulder, one last look at him. 

“I love you.” The final words he’ll ever hear from your lips. He’s too late to respond. You’re gone. The goddess of death is gone. His heart is gone and he’s left on Exandria broken and surrounded by his loved ones. He feels empty despite it. He doesn’t know what to do or say or think. It’s a whirlwind. 

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

i bet on losing dogs

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

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

Word Count: 1.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Almost four months," Roy admitted

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Roy," Oliver tried to interrupt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here for part 2

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Strangers From the Club

Description: Jason and Roy take the reader home and sexcapades ensue

Warnings: badly written smut, cursing, p in v, male and female recieving oral, reader is black as always, also Jason and Roy are roommates

Word Count: 2.4k

Clubbing in Gotham was either the best thing in the world or the riskiest thing that a single woman could do. That's why Y/N came out with her best friend. The buddy system had never failed them before. There they sat in the corner of the dark club, sipping some watered-down and overpriced cocktail.

"I think those two guys are watching you, "Her friend noted a tall ginger with tattoos and a taller dark-haired man from across the club.

"They're not," Y/N tightened the ponytail of her box braids that were in a half-up half-down style. Y/N knew she was attractive but to attract two men who looked like they stepped right out of Gotham Times? That'd be something new.

"They are," Her friend reached over and adjusted the cleavage of Y/N's dress before smiling and being pleased with her work. The dress was already out of Y/N's comfort zone because of it being short, low cut, and sequined. However, the silver sequins only made her more desirable under the strobe lights.

"No, they're not," She wrongly assured her friend.

"They're coming this way! Have some fun tonight," Her friend slid out of the booth and disappeared into the dancefloor with a wink. Y/N swore she was gonna get her back for this.

"Hi, beautiful. I'm Roy, and this is Jason," The ginger named 'Roy' slid on one side of her while Jason slid on the other. Roy's arm was wrapped around her but his energy was so inviting that she didn't mind him touching her.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," She smiled softly at the two men, still feeling a bit unsure about what would happen next.

"See, Jason and I had a little bet going on which one of us was more your type." Roy started while looking into her eyes. His green eyes were so inviting and friendly, that she couldn't help but be trapped in his stare.

"Winner gets to try and take you home for an 'eventful' evening with your permission, of course," Jason spoke for the first time and winked at her.

"I don't think I could choose," She said looking back and forth between the two men. Roy had a certain charm to him that made him appealing but Jason had a mystery about his aura that left her wanting more. As for physical appearance, both of the men were not lacking in that department. Jason was clean-shaven with jet-black hair that was dangerously close to his eyes. He wore a jacket but she could tell his muscles were aching to be free. Roy had a bit of stubble growing in and had a mop of red hair that was cut into a mullet. Unlike Jason, Roy wore a short-sleeved shirt that didn't conceal his muscles or his tattoos.

"Oh, that's fine. We don't mind sharing, do we, Jason?" Roy's eyes never left Y/N's face.

"Not at all," Jason agreed with Roy while putting one hand on Y/N's bare thigh.

"So, sweetheart, do you wanna have some fun with us?" Roy asked her with a small smirk as if he already knew the answer. She could only nod, her throat and mouth suddenly dry.

"Use your words," Jason chided her as he turned her chin towards him.

"Yes," She said a little too excitedly.

"Good girl," Jason whispered into her ear before leading her out of the club. The three of them took a brisk walk to a car that Jason owned. He was in the driver's seat while Y/N and Roy took to the back. It was only a few more moments later before Roy placed a kiss on her shoulder, then her neck, her jaw, and her cheek before finally hitting her mouth. His tongue prodded along her lips before she opened up.

Roy wanted to take it slow so he didn't spook her but she was so damn tempting. Before he knew it, his hand was creeping up her thigh. She spread her legs slightly to give him better access. He smirked before pulling away from her mouth. He helped her slip out of her panties before tossing them up towards Jason, who was eyeing them in the rearview mirror. One of his hands was on the wheel while the other was palming the tent pitching in his pants.

Y/N was in complete bliss while Roy's fingers continued to trail up her thigh. She gasped as he pressed against her wet heat. His fingers played with the outer lips of her pussy before skillfully dodging her clit. A small whimper fell from her lips as she caught Jason's eye in the review mirror.

"What about him?" She practically panted.

"It's okay, he likes to watch," Roy reassured her before pressing another kiss to the side of her head. He pried her legs open as wide as he could in the back of Jason's car.

"This wet already? It's like you were made for us," He spoke as he slipped a finger inside of her. He was sure she was dripping onto Jason's seats at this point but he didn't care. Roy added another finger and her pussy clenched around him as he found his rhythm. It didn't help that it felt like Jason was purposely hitting every pothole in Gotham.

"How many can you take? Three? Or Four?" Roy slipped four fingers into her tight pussy, pumping them in and out while his thumb massaged her clit. He could tell she was going to fall apart any second. His fingers began to do a curling motion against her g-spot and she knew she was done for.

"I'm gonna-" She could barely get anything out before her pussy began to spasm around his fingers. This didn't stop Roy. He continued to stroke in and out of her pussy removing one finger at a time.

"That's it, baby, cum around my fingers," He whispered as Y/N's breathing slowed. She felt like she was floating on cloud nine but it was interrupted by feeling the car be put in park.

"We're here," Jason smirked as he noticed how fucked out Y/N looked and this was only the beginning.

"Jay, you wanna taste?" Roy offered his hand which was still covered in pussy juice to his best friend.

"Hot," Y/N mumbled as she watched Jason take Roy's fingers into his mouth. The three of them managed to stumble out of the car without committing any more public indecency. Well, Y/N had to hold down her dress but Roy was insistent that if her pussy was exposed, he'd immediately get on his knees and eat her out.

"Who's apartment is this?" She asked after Jason unlocked the door to the large condo. It was surprisingly well decorated but it looked like men had lived there.

"Ours," Jason said tossing his jacket over the back of the couch. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his arms. She was right his biceps were bulging. To be trapped under those, she thought to herself.

"Are the two of you dating?" She asked noticing the shared pictures of them on the walls. Some had other people in them but it was usually one of them.

"We're just roommates with the same taste in women," Roy explained before walking towards her. She walked back until she hit the counter of the kitchen. Roy smiled down on her as he lifted her so she sat on the counter.

"Oh," There was a small gap in between them before Roy kissed her again. She felt like her breath was being taken away. It wasn't long before Roy broke the kiss and disappeared down a hallway. Y/N's eyes followed him before her view was blocked by Jason.

"Hi, princess. I wanna taste you s'more. That okay?" Jason tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him.

"Mhm," Y/N couldn't formulate words at the moment, not with what was about to happen.

If Y/N were to imagine heaven, she would think that it would consist of Jason's mouth on her pussy. His hands were relaxed behind his back and only his tongue was working. She swore that if she focused enough then she could feel him spelling out something but she wasn't sure what.

If Jason were to imagine heaven, it would be Y/N's pussy. The taste of her that he had in the car wasn't enough. He needed more. He didn't care about how much of a mess her wetness was making across his chin and face. No, no, she tasted too good for that. The sloppy slurping sounds hid her moans but Jason could feel her thighs straining to stay open.

"Jason, please," She moaned as her hands tangled in his hair. She pulled him closer to her aching pussy. Her hips subtly grinding on his face as she tried to chase her high. Jason was nothing, if not a people pleaser, so he let her cum on his face before carrying her to his bedroom where Roy was waiting.

"Take your dress off, baby," Roy said as he crawled next to her on the bed. In one fell swish, the dress was off of her and she was completely naked. Feeling slightly more sober than before she reached to cover her chest but Roy stopped her. He crawled on top of her and lowered his head to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. Her hands flew to his hair while he was holding her waist.

"Who do you want first? Me or Roy?" Jason asked stroking her face softly. Roy's tongue flicked her nipple with a pleasing smile.

"Roy," She moaned.

"You heard the lady," Jason nodded as he removed his shirt. He took a seat in the chair across the room. When his pants and boxers lowered, his cock sprang free.

Roy quickly relieved himself of his jeans and briefs. He grabbed a condom from his back pocket and put it on his already hard dick. His dick was pale at the base but his tip was red and dripping with precum. He wasn't sure how long he'd last because he had been hard since he fingered her in the backseat of the car. He carefully rubbed his cock's head between her folds before he began to push into her.

"Fuckin' hell," He muttered as he slid into her inch by inch. He wasn't bigger than Jason but his thickness would stretch her out like never before.

"S'not gonna fit," She whined as her back arched off of the bed ever so slightly. Roy just leaned down and kissed her once more. While she was distracted, he used this opportunity to fully sink into her.

She moaned into his mouth. His strokes were a bit sloppy but he managed to hit her G-spot every time. Jason sat in the corner watching and stroking his dick. From his angle, he could see her reaction to every stroke and movement by Roy. Her moans filled the room along with the sound of slapping skin.

Roy held onto her waist tightly as he pummeled into her. Her walls gushed and squeezed around him with every movement. He knew she was close to finishing when her legs locked around his back. He threw his weight behind him and began to push down on her stomach slightly.

"C'mon and cum pretty girl," Jason spoke from the corner. His hand was pumping faster than before. His stomach felt tight but he wanted to cum with them. Roy drew more moans out from her and nearly came as soon as her pussy fluttered around him as she came. Jason moaned as he came on his stomach. He wiped the sticky fluid onto his fingers and walked over to put it in her mouth.

"You're doing so good for us," Jason said as she sucked his cum from his fingers. Roy chuckled a little as he sat near the top of the bed. Y/N was still taking deep breaths as Jason stood at the edge of the bed.

"On your stomach," Jason tapped her thigh and she did as instructed. He placed a light smack to her bottom before lifting her hips and helping her arch back just like he wanted her to.

"Open up," Y/N looked up to see Roy's cock still hard even after cumming. She began slowly by teasing the head of his dick by licking his mushroom tip. Roy's face flushed red as she took into his mouth.

"Shit," Jason grunted softly as he pushed his cock into her. Y/N gagged on Roy's dick from the pressure building at the bottom of her belly. Roy kept one hand at the top of her head, slowly guiding her up and down until she got used to his size in her mouth.

If Y/N had thought that Roy was big, then she couldn't describe the words of Jason tearing her pussy apart. Every stroke felt as if he was just shy of kissing her cervix. His girth alone made her think about how she would struggle to walk in the morning.

"Mouth feels like heaven," Roy spoke as Y/N moaned around his dick. He wasn't gonna last long nor did he care.

"You wanna swallow?" Roy lifted her mouth off of his dick so she could answer. All she could do was nod from Jason's mind-numbing backshots. Roy held her down the full length of his cock so that she could swallow his nut. The warm fluid flowed down her throat with only a little spilling out of her mouth. Jason was getting close to cumming and he pushed and drove her further into the mattress. Y/N held onto Roy's thighs for stability as Jason completely wrecked her pussy. He felt her cum around his cock and gave a few more strokes before cumming himself. He smacked her ass one more time as her body fell limp onto the bed.

"Bathtub?" Roy asked while looking at a very fucked out Y/N. The bathtub would be the place for everyone to get cleaned before turning in for the night. Maybe even squeeze in one more round if Y/N was willing.

"Bathtub." Jason agreed.

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