Perfect Moments

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.”

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 ~

Choose a Side

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (4/?)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Lucy asks for your opinion on a date, not expecting you to take sides. You do choose a side, but not the one she thinks.

Warnings: fluff, banter, grumpy!Tim

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: There are two random references in this (an Eric Winter movie and a previous Tim fic). Which is completely irrelevant. Enjoy.

The station is quiet when you walk through, but you know better than to get comfortable in the calm moment. It’s not superstition for you, just that you know the people you work with, and even if there aren’t many calls, it still won’t stay quiet for long.

“Hey!” Lucy calls behind you.

You smile at her interruption and stop walking so she can catch up to you. As she approaches, you notice that she’s looking over your shoulder.

“Is Tim with you?” she asks.

“No,” you answer, “he’s helping Angela with a case. Do you need him?”

“What I need is a second opinion and I do not want his.”

“Okay,” you drawl. “What’s up?”

“So, I’m going on a date tonight.”

“Please don’t say it’s with a cop,” you murmur.

“With a firefighter.” Lucy stops and tilts her head to ask, “Is it really that bad to be with another cop?”

You raise your hand to her arm and smile. “Lucy, I’m kidding. Tell me more.”

“His name is Alex. He’s been a firefighter for a few years since he got out of the Army. We actually met while playing tug-of-war and he was super flirty, but apparently he actually likes me!”

You ignore the odd way they met and choose to say, “Don’t sound so surprised he’s interested. When’s the date?”

“What date?”

You and Lucy look up together, wide-eyed at the sight of Tim approaching. He furrows his brows and keeps his eyes on you rather than looking at Lucy.

“I’m cheating on you?” you try.

“What date?” Tim repeats, completely ignoring your attempt to remove suspicion from Lucy.

“I have a date,” Lucy admits, “with a former soldier who is now a firefighter.”

“Killer turned arsonist. Way to pick them, Chen.”

“You were a soldier,” you point out.

Tim turns his chin toward you long enough to argue, “And you used to be nice to me.”

“Tim," you warn.

“Didn’t your last boyfriend leave you so heartbroken you bought jewelry from the evidence room?” Tim asks.

“I bought that because I like it,” Lucy defends, crossing her arms across her chest. “This is different.”

“Which station does he work at?” Tim inquires.

“Does that matter?”

“Yes,” you answer, with Tim. You frown as you add, “Sorry.”

“29,” Lucy says quietly. She raises her voice and glares at Tim to challenge, “Do you want his shoe size and social security number as well?”

“Lucy, some of the stations are known for having firefighters that are terrible people. Trust me, I’ve met more than my fair share on calls,” you explain. “Tim’s just trying to look out for you on that one.”

“Oh, so you’re taking his side. That’s great!”

“Lucy,” you reply with a laugh. “29 is a good station, right down the road, so we would know if it wasn’t. They’re good people.”

“As good as firefighters can be, you mean,” Tim adds. “What’s his last name?”

“Tim,” you chide. “That’s none of your business.”

“There can’t be that many guys named Alex at station 29.”

Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, and you snatch it out of his hand.

“If you call Nell to ask about him, I will take Kojo and Lucy to the station on my lunch break to hang out with firefighters.”

Tim shakes his head before he turns to face Lucy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of talking about date night outfits?” he asks.

“Oh, outfits!” Lucy exclaims. “We didn’t get that far!”

“Nope,” Tim interrupts. “Get to the shop, we’re going on patrol.”

“But I never got a second opinion.” Lucy pouts as she looks toward you, and you smile.

“Lucy, it sounds like you and Alex get along really well. You should go, have fun, and just see where the relationship may be able to go.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Lucy says, raising her arms to hug you.

“Boot,” Tim barks when the hug lasts for a second too long. “Shop.”

“He’s so grumpy today,” Lucy whispers in your ear as she pulls back.

Tim nods at you before he turns to follow Lucy to the garage. You look down at his phone in your hand and smile. He’ll realize before he leaves and come back for it, and this time, you will let him know that you really did pick a side.

“I need that,” Tim says as he returns.

You tuck his phone behind your back and use your other hand to grip the collar of Tim’s uniform and pull him closer. Face-to-face, you look into his eyes before you speak.

“Don’t look into him,” you demand.

Tim’s brows pinch before he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Tim Bradford, if you start a fire just to meet Lucy’s date, it will look like you care about her. A lot.”

Tim clears his throat softly, then nods once. “Can I go now?”

“Sure,” you agree, smiling as you release his collar and step back. “But she’ll tell me if you interrogate her in the car.”

“Why does it matter who my boot dates or when?” Tim inquires as he straightens his shirt.

“I don’t know, Tim. Why does it?”

Tim grumbles as he takes his phone from your hand.

“I love you,” you call after him.

“Not as much as Alex, apparently.”

“This is by far the most illegal but sweet thing you’ve ever done,” you tell Tim. “Pretzels?”

“It’s not illegal,” Tim argues, extending his hand for a snack. “We’re just enjoying a date night. What’s wrong with that?”

“The fact that we’re not just enjoying a date night. Tim, you’re watching someone else’s date.”

“You can’t say you’re not interested.”

“I can,” you argue, lifting your phone. “I’m watching a cheesy romcom about a widower who owns a restaurant and coaches little league but falls in love with the woman who wants to buy him out.”

“Riveting,” Tim mumbles, turning back toward the restaurant. “Where’d she go?”

The back door behind you opens before Lucy slides into the car. You offer the bag of convenience store snacks over your shoulder, and she accepts it to look for her favorite candy. Which, of course, you bought for her. Uncomfortable with Lucy's presence, Tim shifts as you pause your movie and remove the earbud you’d been using to listen to it.

“How was the date?” Tim asks.

“You tell me, it seems like you saw just as much as I did,” Lucy responds.

“Sorry, Lucy,” you interject.

“It’s okay. I mean, if he was a serial killer or something, I’d be glad you’re here.”

“That’s what I said,” Tim defends.

“But he wasn’t.”

“Told you,” you tell Tim. “She can take care of herself. Besides, Alex is a sweetheart.”

“You’ve met him?!” Tim asks loudly.

You nod and take a bite of your snack before you explain, “On a call this afternoon. Nell attached me to it.”

“Oh, so I can’t call Nell, but you can?”

“I asked her to watch for an opportunity,” Lucy says.

Tim shakes his head and throws his hands up. “I give up. Lucy, do you want a ride home?”

“Your home or mine?”

“You’re not spending the night.”

You chuckle in the passenger seat at their bickering. Tim doesn’t look at you this time, too focused on the road as he pulls out.

“How was it?” you ask Lucy.

“It was really good. We’re going out again.”

“When?” Tim asks.

“Don’t answer that, Lucy,” you suggest. “We can talk tomorrow.”

“Right,” Tim scoffs. “And she was worried about you picking sides.”

“You know, you could just say it,” Lucy tells Tim, leaning toward his seat.

“Say what?”

“I love you. Trust me, you tell me once and you’d feel so free. I love you. That’s all it takes, Dad.”

“The guy in your movie didn’t have to deal with this,” Tim mumbles.

“He actually did have a kid,” you say as he approaches a stop sign.

“Wait, what movie?” Lucy asks excitedly.

As you begin explaining the plot to Lucy, Tim shakes his head. You know he cares, and when you get home and kiss him, maybe he’ll reconsider simply admitting it.

Could you do fic for David 'Deacon' Kay with wife reader where she's a ballet dancer? Maybe he brought the team to see her and he's proud of her. I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks!!!

Of course! I know next to nothing about ballet, so hopefully what I found online is accurate lol. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think!! Proud, obsessed with his wife (and showing her off) Deacon is the best, so thanks for the great req!🤍

Warnings: just fluff! 1.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Your Biggest Fan

People always say opposites attract. Most people don’t really believe it, though; you, for one, expected to find something compatible, comfortable, or, in other words, similar. That was until you met David “Deacon” Kay. He is your polar opposite. You’re a ballerina, and he’s a cop. You’re soft pastels, and he’s dark blues and blacks. But you love each other more than anything else and are proud of each other in everything you do.

✯✯✯✯✯

Since marrying Deacon and moving into his house, he has developed a ‘dance day ritual.’ He makes your favorite light breakfast and serves it with a single red rose. After he wakes you, he kisses you in the bedroom doorway, promising to be on time to watch you.

“You’re my biggest fan,” you murmur against his lips.

He nods, pulling you tighter against him as he wishes to spend the whole day with you. When you finally manage to direct him to the porch, you have to practically force him off you, laughing as he fights to stay in your arms.

“I will see you tonight,” you argue.

“Too long,” he says with a pout.

He steps backward off the porch, waving as he closes the door, and you begin preparing for your performance. From morning stretches to rehearsals, you have a full day leading up to the dance at the end of it. Deacon never leaves your mind as you prepare, cheering you on from miles away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Dance day!” Luca cheers as soon as he sees Deacon.

Hondo, Hicks, and Luca always know when you have a recital because Deacon is in a better mood than any other day.

“You have our tickets?” Hicks asks.

Deacon nods, and Street inquires, “Tickets for what?”

“The ballet,” Luca answers.

Street’s brow furrows, looking back and forth between the men standing before him. He can’t tell if they’re serious but doesn’t know how to ask.

“Deac’s wife is a ballerina,” Hondo explains, filling in the gaps.

“Oh!” Street exclaims. “Cool. Have an extra ticket?”

Hicks laughs, gripping Deacon’s shoulder as he says, “Deacon would buy out the entire theater just to show off his wife if he could.”

Deacon shrugs but doesn’t argue. He knows what he’d do for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waiting backstage, you take a few deep breaths and smooth your hands over your stomach. Peeking out of a gap in the curtain, you easily find Deacon sitting in the center of the theater. It looks like he brought his entire squad, plus Hicks, Molly, Rocker, and his wife Val. You smile when you see him and step away from the curtain as you tap your wedding ring six times for good luck.

While you were dating and then engaged, Deacon didn't make it to six dances. In his wedding vows, Deacon promised never to miss another one, and so far, he has kept that promise. Once or twice, he’s come in a few minutes late dressed in full SWAT gear but has never missed an entire dance since becoming your husband. He's your good luck.

Approaching your backpack, you pull a small ring safe from the bottom, slide your ring in, and lock it. You hug your friends as you take your place, closing your eyes and focusing on the moves.

The curtain rises, and your eyes lock on Deacon as the music begins while you lift into a relevé. When you dance in front of Deacon, simply knowing he is in the audience takes all the stress away. Everything melts away except you, Deacon, and the dance you know. It begins to feel like a private show until you pause in the fifth position as the ballerinas before you glissade across the stage. Counting the beats, you find Deacon again as you move to the side, spinning into a fouetté before performing a grand gete. As you land, you hear clapping and are reminded that your husband and friends will always be in the audience cheering you on. Even if they don’t understand ballet etiquette.

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment the curtain touches the stage, you rush from your spot, finding your bag in the staging area and exiting in search of Deacon. You compliment your friends as you hurry past, promising to see them at the next practice.

As you rise onto your tiptoes to search the crowd for your husband, Deacon finds you, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you raise your feet and laugh against his neck. You feel cellophane pressed against your back and smile as Deacon sets you back on the floor.

“Wow, they’re beautiful! Thank you” you exclaim as Deacon hands you eleven red roses. After you dance, Deacon always completes the dozen he began at breakfast.

Turning toward his team, you thank them for coming before you are showered with more praise and flowers than you think you deserve.

“Beautiful as always,” Luca says, pulling you into a hug as he passes you a bouquet that matches your costume.

“You always know just what to get,” you reply, thanking him.

“You were amazing! I understand why Deac gets everyone tickets,” Street says, smiling.

“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, pulling him into a hug. “I thought you would be against anything that happens in a theater.”

“I can give things a try,” he argues playfully.

“Okay, okay, my turn,” Deacon interjects, pulling you into another hug.

After a few minutes of talking to his team, you and Deacon say goodbye and he leads you to his car, setting your bag in the backseat before retrieving your ring and sliding it back on your finger. He stows your flowers safely in the back before returning all his attention to you. Deacon kisses your hand before pulling you closer by your waist.

“You were amazing, as always,” Deacon whispers.

“You’re amazing,” you reply, looping your arms over his shoulders to kiss him.

As you pull back, Deacon’s eyes narrow as he asks, “What?”

You tap his shoulder, leaning against him to say, “I have a chance to dance at Lincoln Center in New York City. But… I don’t want to do it unless you can be there.”

“Tell me when and I’ll be by your side the whole way,” Deacon promises. “Stuck to your side, actually. Like a leech.”

“Gross!” you exclaim with a laugh.

“I love you, twinkle toes,” Deacon teases.

You groan, pressing your forehead against his shoulder until he whispers an apology and helps you into the passenger seat.

“Where to?” he asks.

“Anywhere with you,” you reply.

He leans across the console, kissing you quickly before his big brown eyes meet yours. “I meant: do you want to get food on the way home?”

“Nope. Just get me home so I can shower you in affection.”

“That’s my job; you’ve been dancing all day.”

“You have no idea what I do on dance days, do you?”

“Stay on my mind,” Deacon replies, sighing as he takes your hand.

“You are my biggest fan.”

“That was never in question.”

Creepy, But Special

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x goth!fem!ME!reader

Summary: Tim sees a woman in a cemetery after dark and can't stop thinking about you. When he calls for the M.E. and you arrive, he gets a chance to find out more about you.

Warnings: spoilers for 5x22, r is an ME and performs an autopsy, mentions of past judgement and insults, fluff, Tim gets kinda flirty even while there's a dead body between them?

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

A/N: The request said shy reader, but she's pretty open with Tim so I didn't include it in the pairing dynamic. R is very professional with the other characters, though, so that could be considered shy, I think. And, as always, ignore the Chenford gif🤭

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Kojo, c’mon,” Tim urges as Kojo tugs the leash away from Tim.

Kojo has been taking his time on this walk, more of a stroll to sniff everything than a walk, but Tim is ready to get home. When Kojo returns to Tim’s side and begins trotting again, Tim rewards him with a whispered compliment: “There’s the best boy.”

As they near a cemetery, however, a cat meows inside the open gate, causing Kojo to stop again. Tim shakes his head but watches Kojo as his ears perk, and he looks into the narrow gate opening.

“No, Bazinga,” someone says from inside the fence. The cat meows again, and this time the voice - pretty voice, Tim’s mind corrects – laughs. “How are you going to do a séance if you can’t talk, Bazinga?”

Tim and Kojo step to the inside edge of the sidewalk for a better view. Tim should know better than to let his guard down here, but when he realized that the creepy cemetery cat had supervision, he needed to know more. Standing at the fence, he can see a gray blanket spread across a small clearing. You’re sitting on the blanket with a large book open across your lap. A black cat, Bazinga, presumably, roams around you before jumping onto your shoulder.

Tim can’t help but be intrigued by you. He can tell you're young in the dim light of a nearby streetlight. While he’s simultaneously drawn to you and put off by your odd choice about where you relax, Tim lets his logic win and snaps for Kojo to heel beside him. With one final glance at you, Tim leaves you in the dark but remembers your voice long after you ask your cat, “What do you think about the black cat stereotype and how well you fit into it?”

When Tim wakes the following morning, his first thought is you. Part of him wonders if he imagined you, a young woman dressed in black reading in a cemetery in the middle of the night, yet he can’t get you off his mind even as he rises and gets ready for work. Now that overtime has been approved, he has to focus on catching the masked individuals who attacked Aaron and Celina just hours after he saw you.

Once he hears Aaron and Celina’s statuses, it’s easier to forget you and your cat. When they find Roy Gracco and prepare to enter his house, Tim doesn’t even remember his previous cemetery-side walk.

Tim leads the alpha team into Gracco’s home, prepared for anything, but is surprised to find the house clear and cold.

“Drop the gun! Drop it!” he demands as he rounds a corner.

“I think he’s dead,” Nolan calls.

Tim approaches him slowly and confirms that Gracco is dead, 10-5-5.

“It’s a trap,” Nolan realizes aloud.

“Abort! Abort! Abort!” Tim yells. As he exits Gracco’s house, he radios, “Control, I need the bomb squad to the target house for a full sweep. Send the M.E. and TID out here, standing by for a priority search once the house is clear.”

“Yep, got it,” you reply to the police dispatcher.

Your work phone buzzes with a message containing the address where you’re needed. The van is prepped and ready to go, so you only grab your phone, keys, and seal-wrapped black coveralls. When you arrive at the house, dozens of police officers, crime scene investigators, and city officials are waiting.

“Sergeant Grey?” you ask as you approach him. “Has the house been cleared?”

“Almost. Bomb squad’s doing a final walk-through,” he answers. “The officers who found the body are inside and ready to assist you.”

“Dispatch said the air had been cranked down to delay decomp. Do you know if anyone touched the thermostat?”

“No. Sergeant Bradford made sure the house stayed in the same condition as how they found it.”

“Perfect.”

“All clear,” one of the bomb squad members calls as he exits. “Your people are free to enter.”

“Hold up,” Grey calls to TID. “Let the M.E. get what she needs first.”

“Thank you,” you call over your shoulder as you approach the front door.

“Hi, I’m Officer Chen,” an officer greets you as you enter. “Bradford, M.E.’s here.”

“Sergeant Bradford, I hear you preserved the scene and the body. Thanks,” you tell him as you set your bag down.

Tim doesn’t reply, too intrigued that you, a woman who hangs out in cemeteries with her black cat, is the M.E. That and your age, to be more precise.

“What’s the temperature in here?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Fifty-eight,” he answers quickly, shaking himself out of his thoughts and reminding himself not to stare.

“Fifty-eight,” you murmur as you scribble something on your paper. “Then I’m putting time of death between 1 and 2 a.m.”

“Before Aaron and Celina were ambushed,” Lucy says.

“How can you limit it to an hour?” Tim asks. Not because he’s overly interested in your method but because everything you say and do interests him. He wants to hear you talk again. To him, preferably.

“The air temperature and confinement slowed decomp but also affected the blood coagulation. Because of that, and knowing the average maintained temperature since death, I can calculate it with a bit more accuracy,” you explain.

Tim nods and looks at Lucy, who seems to know why he took a sudden interest in forensic science. He has a dozen more questions he’d like to ask you, very few of which are about the case, but you frighten Tim Bradford just enough that he falls silent to let you work.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you say suddenly.

“Is everything okay?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, just this little guy.” You straighten and extend your hand to show Tim a moderately large spider. “There’s a web in that windowsill, he must have been confused by the temperature drop.”

You cup your hand as you walk toward the window and gently place the spider back on its web. Tim watches every little move you make, trying not to be convinced that you were in a cemetery and are still dressed in black merely because you’re creepy.

“So, based on positioning, lividity, and blood coagulation around the wound in his hand, I’m confident that my estimate of 1 to 2 a.m. today is accurate. More, I’d say that he was unconscious when both the bullets and the knife entered his body. There’s no sign of jerking or resisting, and the stiffness in his spine suggests that he’s been positioned like this for closer to a day.”

“A day?” Tim repeats. “How could he be in one position for nearly ten hours before being shot and stabbed?”

“Was he alive when he was stabbed?” Lucy inquires.

“Yes,” you answer her. “He didn’t react in any way to that pain and the lack of naturally dried blood around the wound, so he was likely already in a state of statis. His heart rate was likely low, the temperature was impeding the healing process, and, as I’m sure you know, bullet wounds don’t close on their own.”

“Then why lead us here?” Tim wonders.

“This is related to the cops that were attacked this morning?” you ask. “I heard about the riddle.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Tim asks.

“I don’t think you’ll find much in this house other than him.”

“I agree.”

“If Gracco is a patsy,” Lucy interjects, “then we should be asking why him?”

“He’s a felon with a history at Mid-Wilshire,” Grey answers as he walks in.

“Sure, but there are hundreds of guys like that. So, why Gracco? Did they pull his name out of a database or is there some kind of connection?”

“You think it’s personal?” Tim asks.

“Look, if I was gonna go to the extreme of targeting police officers, why not take out some of my enemies along the way?”

“That’s gotta count as a goth point,” you murmur.

“Costs us nothing to run with that,” Grey points out. “Get back to the station, check Gracco’s known associates, family, coworkers, anyone he did time with that might hold a grudge. Run them against people that we arrested. And say a prayer while you’re at it.”

“Actually, Grey, can I escort the M.E.?” Tim asks.

You look up from your spot on the floor, and Tim looks away quickly because he suddenly thinks that in that position, you look like a cat.

“Do that,” Grey agrees. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Chen, Nolan and Harper are at the station and ready to assist you.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy replies as she exits.

“Why do I need an escort?” you ask once you’re alone with Tim.

“Because we don’t know what we’re up against and I don’t want to find out the hard way that we’re closer than we think,” he answers.

You nod as you stand, then remind Tim that you have to prepare the body to take back to the morgue. He nods and steps aside, hands clasped, happy to watch you.

“Got it,” Tim says into his phone. “Pine’s got Metro mobilized; do you need me to come back?”

You pull your gloves on as Tim ends his call. He steps toward you and says, “I’m clear to stay with you.”

“Why?” you ask.

“All of our bases are covered. So, if you find something, we need to know.”

You shrug as you concede. It’s not that you don’t want Tim with you; you are confused about why a decorated Metro Sergeant would want to keep you company while you perform an autopsy.

“If you want a mask or anything, they’re in the black case behind you,” you tell him.

“Of course it’s black,” Tim muses.

“Meaning?” you inquire as you mark your incision points.

When you look toward him, Tim gestures to your outfit. You certainly don’t dress like other medical examiners. Or act like them, for that matter.

“What do you have against black?” you tease. “Or are you just jealous of the Converse?”

Tim smiles as he tips his head and replies, “I would rock some studded black Converse, right?”

“Totally. I’ll hook you up with my shoe guy. He might want to see you in the heeled version first, though.”

“So, why’d you become a medical examiner?” Tim asks as you begin the first cut in Gracco’s chest.

“What do you think?”

“Love for science?” Tim guesses.

You lift the scalpel and narrow your eyes at Tim. “Most people just assume I’d like to dig around in dead people.”

“Why? Because you wear black and pick up spiders?”

“Amongst other things.”

“What other things?”

You shake your head and argue, “You have to tell me something about you first.”

“I like the Dodgers.”

“Wow,” you drawl. “Mark me as shocked and surprised.”

“I’m a cop, there isn’t much time to do things worth telling.”

“Fine, I’ll go first but you better have something when I’m done.”

“Yeah, of course. Just, one more thing. How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. Don’t you dare say oh, you look older, or wow, you must be smart, I really can’t take hearing that again.”

“I didn’t think you must be smart. You clearly are,” Tim replies.

“Good answer. You still want to know about me?”

Tim nods, and you tip your chin down to continue the autopsy as you speak.

“So, you can tell that I like black and spiders… I feel most alive in the fall, Halloween is my favorite day of the year. And cats! They’re much better than spiders because you can watch horror movies and Beetlejuice with them, and birds bring out their violent sides. But cats will also read witch books with you and listen to music, hang out in cemeteries. All the stuff that gets you labeled a ‘creepy weirdo’ is more fun with a cat.”

“Has someone called you a creepy weirdo?” Tim questions.

“More times than I can count. But I have another list that’s longer.”

“A list of what?”

“The coolest tattoos I’ve ever seen.”

Tim hesitates before he asks, “On dead people?”

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Most of them are on live people, though. They’re not as cool when the skin underneath isn’t moving or filled with blood.”

“Interesting.”

“Is this where you call me a creepy weirdo?” Tim shakes his head, and you add, “I guess I’ve just always felt drawn to stuff like that, and it makes me happy, so why should I care what people say about that?”

Tim leans against a table across the morgue from you as you continue to work. He asks a few questions as you work, but the autopsy is as simple as expected. Gracco was killed. There’s no additional evidence about who killed him or why, and his body is relatively clean and well-preserved.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” you tell Tim as you discard your gloves. “If it was a full moon I may have been more help.”

“Because you like full moons, I assume.”

“It was actually a weak werewolf joke, but yes, I do.”

“Does Bazinga?”

You freeze beside Tim before you look up at him to ask, “How do you know my cat’s name?”

“You said it,” Tim answers.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Not today, uh… I saw you in a cemetery a few nights ago.”

“I knew there was someone out there! Bazinga thought it was a ghost.”

Tim nods, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. You both want to keep talking, but there’s something Tim can’t ask, and you aren’t sure you can answer. So, you trace the shape of a crescent moon on your wrist to encourage yourself.

“Will you go out with me?” you ask quickly.

Tim opens his mouth to answer, but you add, “You don’t have to! If I’m misreading this or you’re just being nice and really do think I’m crazy, I understand.”

“I’d love to,” Tim answers when you fall quiet. “Maybe Kojo and I could join your next cemetery picnic.”

“You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“Really creepy,” Tim answers dramatically. “But you like it, so I’d like to see why.”

“What’s your shoe size? I’ll bring you some black Converse.”

“With studs?”

“Wouldn’t you be the stud?”

Tim laughs as he follows you into your office, but his phone rings with an update from Sergeant Grey and he quickly exchanges numbers with you before he leaves. Later, you remember that you never asked who Kojo was, and the picture Tim texts in return to your question makes you smile in your lonely office.

“How nervous are you?” you ask as Tim and Kojo meet you outside the cemetery.

“Probably not as much as I should be,” Tim answers with a smile. “Just don’t tell me we’re eating with someone, uh, someone in there.”

“No, of course not.” You open the gate and joke, “We’ll ease into that.”

“Where’s Bazinga?”

“Bazinga is a cat. In the picnic basket.”

You help Tim spread your favorite blanket on the grass and join him and Kojo as you set the food out. Tim watches you and realizes you’ve never been creepy, scary, or a weirdo. You’re special and if this spot beside you has been left open for him by people underestimating or judging you, he’ll make sure you know how special you are.

Not So Grumpy (Part 2)

Part 1 Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: Months after being introduced to the rookies, you get a chance to see them again. After your baby is born and Tim's grumpiness continues, you finally have a chance to properly meet them.

Warnings: grumpy!Tim is a softie for his wife and baby, there's a baby but no details about labor or anything, lots and lots of fluff, Wopez spoilers (s1-2)

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: This was better in my head. Oh well.

It’s been almost three months since Tim “introduced” you to the rookies. While you’ve been prepping the nursery, attending doctor’s appointments, and trying different stretches to prepare your body for labor, you haven’t seen Tim any more or less than usual. Halfway through your pregnancy, he got clingy with you and grumpy with everyone else. Though you haven’t been around the station recently, you assume that hasn’t changed. While thinking about Tim, you gasp and hold your stomach as you breathe through a contraction. You’re ready to meet your baby but still have a while to go. Plus, you have to make sure Tim is there. He’s grumpy enough without missing the birth of his first child.

You found the perfect onesie during your trip to the store and can’t wait to show Tim. You and Tim decided not to learn the gender of your baby, and the neutral-colored onesie with a police car and “My Dad’s a Superhero” made you smile, so you had to buy it. Plus, you’re experiencing contractions and miss Tim, so you drop by the station unannounced.

As you walk in, someone calls your name. You look up and smile when you see Angela Lopez waving.

“Hi, Officer Lopez,” you greet.

“Please, it’s Angela. Are you here to see Tim?”

“I am.”

“I don’t know where he is but come with me. We’ll find him.”

“Thank you.”

“How is everything? With Tim and the pregnancy?”

“Good. Baby’s healthy, Tim is amazing.”

Angela snorts before she tries to cover it with a cough. You don’t have time to ask her what is so funny before someone else says your name. At least you recognize the voice this time.

“Hi, Tim,” you reply with a smile.

He nods once before he takes your hand and leads you away from Angela. You wave over your shoulder, and she smiles knowingly.  Alone in an empty hallway, you extend the bag toward Tim. He takes it but sets it down to hug you before opening it.

“You okay?” you ask as he pulls you close.

“Better now,” he answers softly.

“I can’t imagine you being grumpy,” you answer, rubbing your hand along his spine.

“I miss you.”

“Just a few more weeks and then you’ll spend every minute with me and a baby. You’ll be begging to come back.”

Tim pulls back and rolls his eyes at you. You know he will be a great father because he’s already an amazing husband. Not that you’d admit it, but you’ve been counting the minutes until he gets to stay home with you and help you recover and care for your baby.

“Officer Bradford,” someone says at the end of the hallway.

You step back and take the onesie from Tim as he turns.

“What?” he replies shortly.

“Grey needs to see us in ten minutes,” Angela adds, pushing her rookie Jackson away from Tim.

“Then I’ll be there in ten minutes. For now, leave me alone.”

“Angela,” you say, stepping to Tim’s side. “Thanks for the gift. I really appreciate it.”

Tim takes a deep breath before thanking her. She sent a gift home with him months ago, even though she didn’t really know you.

“Of course. I’m glad you like it,” Angela replies.

“And I’d- we’d- love to have you over for dinner after everything settles down. And Jackson, Lucy, and Nolan can come too, if they’d like.”

“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly. She steps around the corner and looks at you rather than Tim’s glare.

“About time we get to meet properly, right?” you reply.

“I’m going to go tell them,” Lucy cheers before disappearing again.

“Don’t you dare,” Tim snaps. “You got an invite. Learn to keep personal matters personal, Chen.”

You wrap your hand around Tim’s forearm, and his shoulders drop as he exhales. There’s no apology, but he stops yelling at Lucy.

“Here,” you say.

Tim races to hold you as you bend down to retrieve the bag. He scolds you lovingly for moving too much before he takes it from your hand. You smile and nod toward the bag. Tim shakes his head in loving annoyance before pulling the onesie out. He holds it up to read it, and his face softens as every semblance of grumpiness disappears.

Throughout the progression of your pregnancy, as his paternity leave gets closer, Tim has grown less grumpy. Part of him hates that he has missed so much of your pregnancy, though, and that anger and disappointment comes out at work. As he folds the onesie and places it back in the bag, he pulls you against his side and kisses your temple.

“Superhero, huh?” he asks.

“We think so,” you answer.

Tim looks down at where your hand rests on your bump and covers your hand with his.

“I promise not to miss so much next time,” he whispers.

“You haven’t missed anything,” you assure him. “Make sure you’re at the hospital to catch the baby, that’s all I need.”

“I will be. I’ll be there the moment your water breaks.”

You smile and tilt your head to kiss Tim’s jaw. “Wait, next time?”

5 Months Later

“Hi, Angela!” you say as you open the door. You pull her into a hug before leading her toward the kitchen. “How’s everything with Wesley?”

“Good. I found out he’s, like, disgustingly rich, so that was something,” Angela answers.

“Interesting,” you agree. “And the mom situation?”

“Remedied. I can understand his side of it now, too.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Tim asks from the kitchen. “He’s a lawyer, that’s all I know, and I have to see Angela every day.”

“Have to see,” Angela scoffs. “We’re BFFs, just admit it.”

“No.”

Someone else knocks, and you remind Tim to be kind as you leave to invite everyone in. Lucy, Nolan, and Jackson are waiting excitedly at your door. Lucy hands you a small gift bag as she enters.

“Thank you,” you say. “Come on in. Kitchen’s this way.”

The baby monitor on the island blinks before your baby’s cries fill the kitchen.

“I got it,” Tim murmurs. He picks up the monitor and drags a hand across your back as he walks toward the nursery.

“Did you find a solution to the closet problem?” Lucy asks as she sits beside you. “Oh, and you look amazing by the way.”

“Thank you. And I did.” You chuckle before pointing out, “You text with questions about where to go for a second date and I’m asking about storage solution for newborn clothes.”

“Because you’re happily married and not destroying your apartment in an attempt to look good for a guy who calls you the wrong name,” Jackson adds.

“Jackson!” Lucy exclaims.

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“You text them?” Tim asks as he returns with your baby in his arms.

“Oh my gosh,” Lucy coos at the sight.

Tim narrows his eyes at her before looking back at you.

“Yes, I do. You wouldn’t introduce us, so I took it into my own hands,” you answer. “You need anything?”

“Hey, how long have you guys been together?” Nolan asks.

“I don’t like this,” Tim complains as he returns to the kitchen.

“He’ll drop the act soon,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“It’s not an act,” Tim calls. “So, it will go away when they do!”

After your dinner company leaves, you take care of the dishes while Tim spends quality time with your baby. As you walk into the room, he extends an arm toward you. You make yourself comfortable against his side as Tim holds the baby against his chest. He may be grumpy with everyone but the two of you, but you wouldn’t change a thing, and Tim wouldn’t either.

“I love you,” you whisper in the comfort of your shared home and life.

“I love you,” Tim replies. “Enough that I can stop being grumpy.”


Warnings : intruder at elementary school

Summary: You have to respond to a dangerous situation at your kid’s school and some rookies have something not so pleasant to say.

Word Count: 1600ish

Unfortunate visitor from the past

Now you are engaged, and Tim is now a Metro Liaison Sergeant. Both of you keep your personal lives very private, so only Sergeant Grey and Angela know about Jasper.

You and Tim walk into the precinct to the smell of stale coffee and printer ink. The station is filled with the soft shuffling of papers and soft morning chatter amongst the other officers before roll call. You both head to the locker rooms where Tim changes into his uniform, and you get ready with Harper, Lopez, Chen, and Jaurez. You all chat about cases you've been working on and discuss plans for girls night.

"Y/L/N, come see me in my office for a second," Sargeant Grey calls across the bullpen from his office door.

You walk over and step into his glass office. "What can I do for you, sir? you ask politely.

"Officer Wrigley called out sick, and I need someone to train Officer Daniels today. I know you haven't been a T.O. for years, but you're all I got." He explains from behind his desk.

"Don't worry about it; I got it, sir." You say with reassurance.

"Thank you. You're dismissed." He says, and you walk out to change into your patrol uniform.

30 minutes later you're walking into the roll call room. You walk down the aisle and sit next to Nolan.

"Hey Y/N, are you riding patrol today?" He asks, noticing that you're in uniform today.

"Yeah, Grey's got me filing in for Wrigley today." You replied as Sergeant Grey walks up to the podium at the front of the room.

Sergeant Grey then leads roll call, and Tim discusses a suspect that Metro is tracking. His facial expression slightly changes once he notices you’re in uniform, but he remains professional during the briefing.

“Why are you in uniform?” Tim asks in an unamused tone as he walks up to you after Grey dismissed everyone.

“Grey needs me to train Daniels today because Wrigley called out,” you explain to him.

“You haven’t been a T.O. for at least ten years,” he protests. He doesn’t like the idea of you riding patrol, much less with a “toddler with a gun.”

“It’s just for today, Tim; I’ll be ok,“ you say with a reassuring smile while looking up at him.

“Alright, if there are any problems, call me,” he says.

Later that day, while you’re riding with Officer Daniels, you get a call from Tim.

“Hey Tim,” you say once you answer your phone from the holder in the shop.

“Y/N, you need to come back to the station; it’s about Jasper.” He says in a soft but serious tone.

“Why is he ok? Is something wrong?” you ask while your face heats up and your heart starts beating fast.

“We’ll talk when you get here; I love you,” he says calmly.

“I love you too. We’ll be there in 5 minutes,” you reply before ending the call.

"May I ask who Jasper is?" Officer Daniels asks next to you.

“My son,” you reply in a stern voice.

"Is he— " he starts, but you cut him off.

"No more questions, boot," you bark, sounding a little too much like Tim.

You pull into the garage area of the station and park.

“Get the gear squared away, then come find me when you’re done.” You say as you round the front of the shop and stand next to the passenger side to make sure Officer Daniels understands.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds as he starts grabbing the war bags from the back of the shop.

You turn away from the shop and walk through the glass doors and enter the station. With heavy limbs and an anxious feeling, you look around for Tim.You walk into the bullpen and see him in Grey’s office. You take a breath and walk over to the glass door and step in. Tim is sitting in front of Grey in his Metro uniform with his sleeves pushed up.

“What happened? Is he ok?“ you ask in a shaky, uneven tone.

“Sit, Y/N,” Tim says calmly while gesturing to the chair next to him.

Despite wanting to remain standing, you slide into the seat next to Tim.

“We got a call about someone trying to break into Jasper’s school. They’re on lockdown until we can identify the suspect.” Grey says slowly with concern written across his face.

Tim reaches over and holds your hand to provide reassurance.

“Do we know if he’s ok?” You ask, concerned.

“As far as we know, he’s perfectly fine. I sent Metro there on standby.” Tim says in a soft tone.

“Do we have visual on the suspect?” You ask about switching from being a worried mother to a cop.

“Yes, Metro got a shot of him.” Grey says, passing over a tablet.

Your eyes widen as you focus on the man in front of you. You know this man, if you can even call him a man. You never thought you’d see or hear from him again.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Y/N,” Grey says, breaking the silence.

“I know who this is. It’s Jasper’s biological father,“ you exclaim.

“Has he ever tried contacting you before in the past?” Grey asks.

You shake your head. “Nopenever. He said he didn’t want anything to do with him once I told him I was pregnant.” You reply.

Just then Tim’s phone rings.

“Suspect has broken into the building; do you want us to go in after him?” Wells, one of Tim’s buddies from Metro, says on the other side.

Tim looks up to Grey for confirmation, and Grey nods.

“Yes be advised that he is the father of one of the students, “ Tim says to Wells.

You abruptly stand up and head to the door.

Tim immediately gets up after you. "Where are you going?" He asks worriedly.

"To go help," you say.

"No, you're too close to this. I don't want you to do something irrational you'll regret." Sargeant Grey says.

"Then what am I supposed to do? I won't be able to focus on anything else." You exclaim worriedly while messing with your engagement ring.

"Then I will have you sit in a shop out of sight during the operation. Bradford, you can give orders from there." Sergeant Grey compromises reluctantly. He wants to protect his children as much as possible.

Meanwhile...

A couple of the rookies sit in the bullpen doing paperwork with their T. Os are sitting at a nearby table.

"I found out Detective Y/L/N has a son today." Officer Daniels shares with the group.

"She does?" Another rookie named Brooks asks.

"Is it with Bradford?" Another asks.

"Can't be. He was married before Y/L/N." A nearby P2 says.

"Wait, he was?" Brooks exclaims.

"Yeah, to a UC. Got hooked on drugs, though going undercover." The P2 explains.

Just as the P2 finishes their sentence, Tim clears his throat. "Are you idiots done?" He barks at them.

The group looks back at him in shock. They are too stunned to respond to Tim. You stand next to him, just as shocked as they are that someone would talk about a fellow officer like that.

"You all should know better than to talk about another officer's personal business like that, let alone a senior officer." He yells at them.

He looks directly at the P2 standing next to where Officer Brooks is sitting. "You've been a cop longer than them; you should have corrected them. Now if I hear talk like this again, you'll be getting a blue page," Tim says finally.

"Come on, baby, let's go see about Jasper, Tim says to you while putting his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the door to the garage area.

10 minutes later, you and Tim pull up to Jasper's school right as you hear Metro call in a code four. A few ambulances pull up a few minutes later to make sure there aren't any injuries.

Tim steps out of the car and gestures for you to get out after him. He walks over to where Wells is, with you walking closely next to him. His fingers lightly brush against yours as you walk.

“Hi Sir, we didn’t have any casualties, and your son is perfectly safe. Only a few staff members were slightly injured. The suspect is in that shop over there if you would like to question him." Wells explains to both of you.

"Thank you," Tim says before turning to you.

"What do you want to do?" He asks.

"I don't want to talk to his father, but I would like to see Jasper," you say to Tim.

"I'll go talk to the principal and see if you guys can take him now,“ Wells suggests.

"Thank you,” you say.

10 minutes later, Wells brings Jasper out with his things.

"Mom! Dad!" Jasper calls while running straight to you and Tim.

"Hi baby, did you get scared?" You ask while you squat down to hug him.

He lets go of you and moves over to hug Tim.

"I was at first, but I knew you guys would be here to help." He leans against Tim's leg while Tim pats his head.

"Are you ready to go home, buddy?" Tim says while bending down to his level.

"Yeah, I miss Kojo," Jasper says, and Tim and you both giggle.

You watch as Tim holds Jasper's hand as they walk over the shop. You're very proud of Tim for sticking with you and being such a good dad to Jasper when his wasn't around.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.°𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫 .𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

pairing ☽˚⁀➷｡ andy barber x fem!reader

summary ☽˚⁀➷｡ andy knows what he really wants but laurie doesn’t seem to want that

word count ☽˚⁀➷｡ 3,716

warnings ☽˚⁀➷｡ PART TWO OF SERIES being a parent, speaking spanish, speaking french, taking homecoming pictures, teenagers being annoying, confrontation if you squint, being a concerned partner, passionate romantic sex, anal, oral receiving, sextape, squirting, andy cheating, jacob accidentally calling reader mom, proposing, breeding, size kink, andy being a dilf and making you go brrrrrr DO YOU DIRTY SERIES

authors note ☽˚⁀➷｡ happy laurie barber hate club friday!!! enjoy the second addition to the laurie hate “series” PLEASE REBLOG MY TAGLIST IS ENDING ON JULY 10TH PLEASE FOLLOW @dulceslibrary AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN I POST 18+ ONLY,, feedback is appreciated

enjoy the official laurie barber hate club playlist

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Keep reading

Till Death Do Us Part masterlist

I wanted to use the “flustered Bisexual mess(Faelyn)/absolutely knows and shows no mercy(Walter, Viktoria, Lucy)” trope along with the “shy smol/flirty tall” and also “you won’t like me when I’m angry/oh god they are hot when they go feral”

TEASER

Cast

Prologue

DNA is a Bitch

The butler’s a dick but the Lord can dick me down

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

Taglist:

@mrs-fanfiction-2001

@bunnyboo12

@yor72

@weepingwitchofthewest

@stabmemaybe

@frozenhuntress67

Happy Scary Halloween

Requested Here!🎃👻

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

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

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

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

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod and smile. “Probably.”

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

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

Tim shakes his head and leans back in the seat.

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

“Watch it, Chen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t start, Chen,” Tim sighs.

“I didn’t say anything!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nolan, if this is-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I?” you challenge softly.

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

“Happy Halloween, Tim,” you call.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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