Next Year

Reminiscent of Us

Requested Here!

<< Part 1: Save You Again

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!veteran!doctor!wife!reader

Summary: While you deal with the aftermath of treating Tim's previous injuries, you're attacked in the hospital and reliant on Tim to save you... from yourself and the danger you face.

Warnings: depiction of PTSD (nightmares, anxiety, etc.), canon typical warnings, gunshot wound, murder, the usual

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

When you wake after a nightmare, it’s too dark. Rather than your familiar bedroom around you, your husband’s arm draped across your waist brings you back to the present. You’re safe in your home, not in a desolate war zone or weeping in the hospital because you were too late. Your throat burns, and you move toward the kitchen for a drink. 

With your hands wrapped around your favorite mug, you watch the dark window, letting your eyes stray to the pictures lining the shelves in your living room. The anxious feeling you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks isn’t abating. Since Tim was rushed into the ER after being in an explosion a few weeks ago, you’ve been running from the all too familiar feeling of dread that prefaces something horrible. 

“Hey,” Tim greets, sitting beside you. 

“Sorry I woke you,” you murmur. 

Tim shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else. 

“Just nightmares,” you say. 

“How long?”

You glance at him, and he knows the answer. Since he was brought to you on a gurney. Again. 

“You didn’t say anything.”

“It’ll pass,” you insist. “They usually do.”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

You lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. He knows more than anyone else who has ever been in your life. He knows your past, fears, dreams, and how to love you like no one else ever could. Yet, you don’t know how to tell him something is wrong because it isn’t. Not yet. Your body is stuck in a vicious cycle of thinking danger lurks around every corner.

“Do you want to talk to someone?” Tim asks. 

You shake your head and reply, “I just want to feel normal again. Not in this constant state of fight or fight because I think something is going to happen.”

“You could always write a speech for Nolan’s veteran event, get your mind off it.”

You chuckle and can’t stop the flirtatious comment that follows. “I can think of another way to get my mind off it.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but you kiss his jaw, and he presses his lips to your forehead. He’s with you. He promised to always be with you, and Tim Bradford keeps his promises. You return to bed with him, let him hold you close, and fall asleep beside him. Since you fell in love with him - while stranded in the desert - you’ve only felt complete at his side. Now is no different. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Doctor Charles asks, smiling as you enter the ICU. 

“Your shift partner went into early labor,” you explain. “So, I’m covering until her actual replacement can get into town.”

“Well, we always love having you here. Quite an improvement from the hustle and bustle of the ER, no?”

“I guess the tactical medic in me craves the rush.”

“Here are your patients,” she says, passing a stack of folders over the nurses’ station. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

The first record you open makes your eyes widen. Across the top of the page, someone has written ‘arsenic exposure ~5 months.’ That diagnosis only has a few feasible reasons. The first one that comes into your mind is intentional dosing. Someone might be trying to kill your new patient. 

“Dr. Charles!” you call. “Sorry, but this patient - uh, Morrison. Can I get some lab work ordered for him? I want to know more about the arsenic exposure.”

“Absolutely. Get the full battery. His condition isn’t improving.”

“Alright. Thanks, doctor.”

You knock on the open door, then introduce yourself as you enter. 

“I want to do some more tests, nothing serious, just want to get a bit more information,” you explain. “Do you want me to go over it with your emergency contact… Helen Parker?”

“No,” she answers quickly. “She’s, uh, my roommate and has better things to deal with, you know. And do whatever you need to, I just want to feel better.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you assure her.

“We can’t let you into the ICU, ma’am,” a nurse repeats. 

“My friend is in there and I haven’t heard a word in days! I need to know she’s okay!” the woman insists. 

Pressing the silent alarm under the desk, the nurse alerts the police while she keeps her cool and tries to calm the woman down. 

“Bradford,” Tim says when the call connects. 

“Same here,” you quip. “I’ve got an ICU patient with over 6 months of arsenic exposure and even during her stay here, the levels are rising.”

“How is that possible?”

“Someone’s dosing her,” you say, looking around the storage room you slipped into. “There’s doctors and nurses in and out all day.”

“She hasn’t been there for six months, though. Visitors?”

“None on the log.”

“I’m putting you on speaker with Lopez, tell her what you just told me.”

You repeat your findings to Detective Angela Lopez. She hums when you finish. 

“Attention all units,” dispatch says through Tim’s radio. “Distress call from-“

The audio is clouded with static through the phone, but you hear the name of the hospital you’re standing in. 

“Where, Tim?” you ask. 

Before he can answer, dispatch does: “ICU entry.”

“I have to go,” you say. “I love you, Tim. Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t do anything,” Tim implores, but the call is disconnected.

You walk to the ICU entrance and look through the window in the door. There’s no one in view, but movement behind you draws your attention. 

“What’s going on?” a nurse asks. 

Her name tag says Nadine P., and you smile, hoping to disarm her. 

“Just thought I heard something, Nadine,” you answer lightly. “Did you see any new reports for Greg Patrick, room 29?”

“No,” she answers. “But your arsenic patient has a visitor.”

“Who?”

“Said her name was Helen. Was waiting outside and there wasn’t anyone at the desk so I thought it was okay.”

“Sure,” you reply. “As long as she signed in.”

“Poor Hellie is devastated, worried about her roommate.”

You nod as you move past her but stop suddenly. The patient file didn’t say Helen was the roommate or provide her nickname. Nadine P. must be for Nadine Parker. They’re related, you realize. 

“One more thing,” you say as you turn. “How much arsenic did you give her?”

Nadine keeps up her innocent act, then lunges at you. You catch her shoulders as you yell for someone to check on your patient. Shoving her into the same storage room you hid in the call Tim, you throw your badges out and let the door lock behind you. After you throw a hook, Nadine falls against the rack, and you don’t see her left hand slip beneath her scrub top. 

“LAPD!” Tim yells as he races through the hospital. “Move!”

“Go, go, out!” Angela adds, directing people as she moves behind Tim. 

“What can I do?” a hospital security guard inquires. 

“Tell us how to get into the ICU and then get everyone out of this area,” Nyla answers. 

“My badge’ll get you in,” the guard says, offering his badge. 

Tim takes it and rushes around the corner to reach you. He knows you can handle yourself, but not knowing what is happening puts him at a disadvantage. Stopping outside the ICU door, he signals to Angela and Nyla before he swipes the badge.

They go in first, their weapons raised as they enter the unit. A doctor comes around the corner and raises his hands in surprise, his clipboard clattering to the ground. He points to his left, and Tim takes the lead as he looks around the corner. 

A woman is slumped against the wall, but her pulse is steady when Tim checks in. The patient room beside her is locked, and the nurse inside sends Tim a thumbs-up as she works. 

Tim turns as Angela asks the doctor if there’s another intruder, but she’s interrupted by a gunshot. Along with the doctor, Tim, Angela, and Nyla duck at the sound and then look at one another. Angela points to the supply closet across the hall, and Tim notices two badges discarded on the tile floor. He slides onto his knee and catches himself against the wall to pick them up. One is yours, and the other belongs to a registered nurse named Nadine. 

Tim raises his gun toward the door, and another shot sounds from within. He looks at Angela, and she moves her hand horizontally. She silently communicates to stay calm before she and Nyla move to the other side of the door. Raising three fingers, she counts down. 

On one, Tim scans your badge to open the door, then extends his arms and follows his gun inside. 

“Decent response time,” you say, your voice slow but even. 

Tim steps around a shelf and then drops to his knees. Your hands are pressed to your side, but he can see the blood leaking through your fingers. 

“Lopez, one suspect down here,” he calls. 

Nyla kneels beside Nadine and checks her pulse, then places handcuffs on her wrists and calls for someone to transport her to the ER. 

“Get a doctor in here!” Tim demands, laying his hands over yours. 

“Tim,” you say. “It’s clean, just a flesh wound.”

Tim sighs as he reaches over his head to pull a pack of gauze and several bandages off the shelf. He tears the bandage open with his teeth and presses it against your side. 

“Well,” he begins. “Since you did my job today, I guess that means I have to do yours in return.”

“Does that mean you’ll be making dinner, too?”

“Not a chance. We’re ordering food on the way home.”

“Thank you,” you say, drawing Tim’s eyes to yours. "I think my nightmare's will go away now."

“They better. And any time,” he promises. “But I’m getting sick of this hospital.”

A surprise visit.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x gn!reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), minor exhibitionism, smut, praise, getting caught (minor), use of y/n. Tim calls y/n a brat (affectionately)

Requested Y/N: yes, @annoymus1

Word count: 817

Summary: You come to visit Tim at work on your day off. When Lucy walks in on you giving Tim head under his desk, you decide to test him to see if he'll give it away.

---

“Fuck, y/n,” Tim groaned, threading his hands through your hair. His hips twitched from the effort of not fucking into your mouth.

It was a cramped under Tim's desk, and you were admittedly a bit squashed, but that wasn’t going to stop you from giving him all you had. This honestly hadn’t been your intention when you’d decided to surprise Tim at work, but you’d taken one look at him in his uniform pants and demanded that the two of you spend some one-on-one time in his office.

Hence why you were kneeling under Tim’s desk, your hair just brushing against the wood, with his cock in your mouth. At Tim’s moans, you grinned and looked up through your eyelashes. You pulled back slightly, sucking on only his head. You ran your tongue over his slit, the salty taste of pre-cum meeting your lips. Your tongue traced the vein on the underside of his cock, the one you knew drove him insane, and Tim cursed.

“Stop playing, y/n,” Tim pleaded, watching you carefully tease the head of his cock without truly giving him what he needed. “Please, baby, ‘m dying here.”

If you’d had more time (and more space), you would’ve kept teasing Tim until he snapped and started fucking your mouth, but unfortunately, his lunch break was nearly over, and you had groceries waiting in your car. So, you breathed deeply through your nose and swallowed as much of Tim’s dick as you could. You bobbed your head slightly, suctioning your teeth and Tim moaned.

“That’s it… fuck, y/n,” He praised, manoeuvring your head slightly, “So good for me, just like that.” You preened at the praise, something that was always your weak spot, and took Tim as deeply as you could. Your eyes watered slightly as his cock hit the back of your throat. His hips spasmed, and you knew that if they were anything else, he wouldn’t be holding back.

Knock, knock.

You froze. Looked up at Tim, who was hastily trying to regain control of his breathing.

“Tim? You in there?” The unmistakable voice of Lucy Chen floated through the door.

“Shit,” Tim grumbled, “Yeah, Chen.” He called out. He looked down at you, reaching down to help you remove your mouth from him, but you’d already pulled off and moved closer under the desk. Tim shuffled forward, hiding his leaking cock from sight just as Lucy walked in.

“Sir, I just wanted to see if I could get assigned to Lopez for the rest of the day,” Lucy started. She sounded nervous.

“Why?” Tim asked, his hands twitching at his sides with pent-up energy. You looked up at him, eyes glinting with a challenge. He didn’t see you.

“She’s working that double homicide from Sycamore Square, and I was hoping I could tag along,” Lucy continued. She rambled when she was nervous.

Tim paused for a second. Considering. “That’s fine, Chen. I’ll-,”

You pushed yourself up slightly and dragged your tongue up and around his mushroom head. Tim spluttered, his voice breaking off. He glanced down at your for just a moment, almost unnoticeable, and you winked before swallowing the rest of his shaft.

Lucy frowned, “Tim? Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine, Chen.” Tim’s voice was thick with barely restrained moans. He fisted his hands against his sides, already trying to figure out a way to repay you once Lucy was gone. You didn’t stop, taking Tim deeper. You gagged silently, and you could tell Lucy was scanning Tim assessingly.

“Are you sure, sir?” Lucy prodded, gaze flitting over Tim.

“I said I’m fine, Chen,” Tim snapped a little, but it was less to do with annoyance and more to do with you hollowing your cheeks around him and his rapidly approaching orgasm. “I’ll -fuck – I’ll have Grey assign you to Lopez. You should get going, her break is almost over.” Tim’s breathing was starting to speed up, and you knew he was going to burst soon if you didn’t stop. So, you didn’t.

“Okay. Thank you, sir.” Lucy’s voice was lighter when she spoke this time. Holding back laughter.

You hummed around Tim cock as he said, his voice strained, “Goodbye, Chen.”

You heard footsteps, then a door clicking, and then Tim’s hands were back in your hair and his hips were thrusting lightly.

“You little brat,” He growled, though his voice was filled with affection. “Did you like that, hmm, y/n? Sucking me off with Chen here?” Tim’s voice was heavy, and you knew that whatever he did for payback, you’d feel if for days.

You nodded slightly, eyes a bit watery from Tim moving your head further around him. His cock twitched inside your mouth, and you grinned, dragging your tongue over him. He came with a rough shout, and even as the white liquid hit the back of your throat, you knew this was far from over.

fin.

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Keep Living with Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Andersen!cop!reader (r's mom is Captain Zoe Andersen)

Summary: You fell in love with Tim Bradford quickly, and he receives your mother's blessing to propose. After you watch your mother's murder, his plans are thrown off and he gives you a place to heal.

Warnings: spoilers for ep 1x16 "Greenlight," parental death (Captain Zoe Andersen), grief, panic attacks, nightmares. comfort at the end! not proofread

Word Count: 4.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“Good mornin’,” Wade greets as he enters roll call. “Before we get started let’s give a warm welcome to our newest Andersen. Welcome, all the way from Chicago! I know your mom is here so we’re all too scared to give you any grief, but I hope LA treats you well.”

“Thank you, sir,” you reply, nodding to the officers beside you.

“Andersen?” Tim whispers.

“Captain Andersen’s daughter,” Bishop answers. “She was working her way toward detective in Chicago but transferred a few weeks ago. Wanted to be closer to her mom, from what I’ve heard.”

“Meaning that if you want to lay some Bradford charm on her, you’d have to answer to your boss,” Angela adds.

“Cute,” Tim replies, giving Angela a fake smile.

“You said it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Bradford,” you call, jogging to catch up to him. “I just wanted to say thanks for the assist back there. I don’t know how that second guy got past me, but I’m sorry for not paying attention.”

“It happens,” Tim offers with a shrug. “And it’s my job to have your back.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some thanks every once in a while. I’ll let you get back to your rookie, but, seriously, thank you.”

“No problem.”

Tim doesn’t know exactly when it happened, but at some point, after you arrived in Los Angeles, he got attached to you. Now, he keeps an eye out for you and shows you a side of himself that very few people are lucky enough to meet.

Calling your name, Tim beckons you back to his side. “Let me buy you dinner? As a thanks?” he asks, squeezing his hands together nervously.

“Why would you be thanking me? You saved me,” you remind him. 

“Just-“

“I’d love to. But I’m paying,” you answer, smiling before walking away again.

“Doubtful,” he murmurs to himself before returning to his shop.

✯✯✯✯✯

Two weeks after your first date with Tim, you smile at him over your shoulder in roll call. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, and Tim is just as happy to keep your relationship private for now – that’s something he made clear from the beginning, private not secret.

“Bradford, Andersen, the captain wants to see you,” Wade says as he enters the room. Neither you nor Tim move until he adds, “I think that means now.”

Once the door is closed behind you, you promise, “I didn’t tell her.”

“Relax,” Tim demands. “It’s probably not about us.”

He opens the door to your mother’s office, and she points for both of you to sit. Pulling your hands into your lap, you fiddle as she looks at a paper on the desk before her.

“Care to explain?” she asks.

“Explain what, ma’am?” you reply.

“You’re in here as my daughter, though I’m not thrilled to learn you and another officer are dating without my prior knowledge.”

You look at Tim, but he seems content observing this confrontation.

“Mom, I-“

“It better be a good reason,” she interrupts. “Because it’s been weeks since Tim asked me if it was allowed.”

Looking over at Tim, your mouth gapes before you accuse, “You told her!”

“I had to,” he answers. “I wasn’t dealing with her wrath, as captain or your mother.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” your mom asks. “You chose the best of them.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Tim says happily.

“Don’t think that makes you infallible,” your mother threatens. “I have a gun and I can fire you, and what I choose to do depends entirely on you.”

Tim nods severely, and they both chuckle when you release a relieved sigh.

“Congratulations,” your mom tells you. “I’m glad you’re happy, and I’ll see you both at dinner on Friday?”

Tim leads you out of the office, and you ask, “What’s Friday?”

“Probably a chance for everyone who loves you to threaten me.”

“Sounds fun.”

Tim reaches out for you, but you turn away quickly. 

“You told my mother without telling me. No hugs for you until Friday.”

Smirking, Tim replies, “Yeah, you try holding out that long.”

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“I’ll be back in a few,” Tim tells you, kissing your forehead.

“Where are you going?” you ask, looking up at him from your spot on his couch.

“To get your favorite breakfast,” he answers. “Because I love you.”

“Be careful. I love you.”

After a year of dating, you and Tim easily acknowledge the depth of your feelings for one another. He makes you feel important, loved, and like the center of his world. It was easy to fall in love with Tim, yet every moment spent with him makes you happier.

While you wait on his couch, Tim heads to your favorite café. Fiddling with the box in his pocket, he smiles as he thinks of you. You’ve gotten to know him so well you have become practically impossible to surprise. (At least since he first told you he loved you, holding you close under a starry sky in the California desert.) This, though, should be the best surprise yet.

The bell over the door chimes as Tim enters, and he quickly finds the woman he’s here to meet.

“Good morning, Captain Andersen,” he greets, sitting across from her. She looks at him until he amends, “Sorry, Zoe.”

“It’s been a year, Tim, you’re going to have to get used to it at some point,” she teases.

“I will. I actually asked you to meet me here because I have a question about my future with your daughter.”

Zoe’s smile grows, sure that she knows where this is going. Tim removes the velvet box from his pocket and slides it across the table.

“I want to propose, ask your daughter to spend the rest of her life with me, but I refuse to do that without your permission. So, Zoe, my question is, will you allow me to marry your daughter? I can’t bring her half as much happiness as she brings me, but I will love her until my dying breath.”

“Tim,” Zoe begins, pressing the ring box back into his hand. “I would love to have you as a son-in-law; of course, you can marry my daughter. And if your proposal is anything like that, I can’t imagine her saying anything other than yes.”

“Is she going to cry?”

“Most likely,” Zoe answers with a laugh. “But you should get going before she gets suspicious.”

Tim stands with Zoe, pulling her into a hug as he thanks her. She reminds him that the family is having dinner together on Friday, and his standing invitation still stands.

“We’ll be there,” Tim promises. “And I’ll let you know when I pick a date.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knocks on Zoe’s door a week later, entering her office and closing the door behind him. 

“I’m proposing this weekend,” he tells her, smiling as he thinks of you.

“Take it easy this week, then. You want everything to be perfect,” Zoe reminds him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you okay?” you ask Tim. “You’ve been… different.”

“I’m great,” he promises. “Just ready for the weekend.”

You nod, unconvinced by his brush-off answer. Trusting Tim is easy, so you know he will tell you when he’s ready. As the day progresses, with IA reversals, celebrities, and an attempt on Nolan’s life, you’re not sure you and Tim will be able to talk about whatever bothers him.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you hear about the shots fired and the greenlight on Nolan, you don’t hesitate to meet your mother at the scene. Not telling Tim yourself wasn’t a conscious decision, simply the result of your adrenaline surging and concern for your fellow officers. Lucy is talking to Nolan as you approach, walking behind your mother, and you notice Tim standing to the side, sending him a concerned look.

“According to intelligence, you’ve bee greenlit by Southern Front,” Captain Andersen – no longer acting like your mother – announces.

“How’s a rookie get greenlit before me? I gotta step up my game,” Tim adds.

“It’s not a badge of honor, Bradford,” you reply, giving him a stern look.

“I was kidding,” he promises, his full attention on you.

Listening to the facts and learning why Nolan is being targeted, you know that finding the gang in a city as big as LA will be next to impossible. As your mom and Nolan leave, you rush to catch up with them.

“I’m coming with,” you announce.

“Officer Andersen, no,” your mom argues.

“I have more gang experience, I assisted in countless cases in Chicago. You need to let me help.”

Shaking her head, your mother gestures for you to join them. You know you’ll get yelled at, lectured, and, if you’re lucky, encounter the wrath of a concerned mother rather than an undermined captain when you get home later.

✯✯✯✯✯

“K-9 unit already swept the property,” Zoe says as she leads you and Nolan into his place.

“Uh, no, Ben left for New York yesterday. So, what’s happening here?” he replies.

“The DA approved a VARDA alarm. It bypasses 911, sends a red alert to all the cops in the area.”

“So, what’s next?”

“That’s up to you.”

“I mean, I can’t just go to work, right? I’d be endangering everyone who came within five feet of me.”

“Being a cop is being at risk.”

“You’re saying I should just report for duty, act like nothing happened?”

“I think we tell the criminals what to do, not the other way around.”

“No matter the consequences?”

“No matter the consequences. But, look, it’s up to you. No one is gonna judge you either way.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Nolan, this isn’t about bravery. You have a family. Any cop who’s ever worn a badge understands that. It seems the system is up and armed. We have a unit parked out front. Try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay,” you offer. “And I’m sure West and Chen are on their way.”

“You call me if anything happens,” your mom demands. “And make sure West and Chen know that, too.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The next day, when you and Nolan enter the station, Tim gives Nolan a nod of approval. The rest of the officers break into a round of applause, and Tim’s eyes move to yours.

“You need to be careful,” Tim mouths.

“I promise,” you reply silently. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Riding in the backseat of the shop, you listen to your mom and Nolan while thinking about Tim. Being careful has always been a priority, but knowing that you risk not going home to the man you love puts everything into perspective.

The radio comes on as dispatch announces, “7-Adam-15, possible 459 in progress, 1936 Kristol Lane.”

“7-Adam-15, show us responding,” Nolan responds. “I hate this. Feels like everyone’s fighting my battle for me.”

“City still needs policing,” your mom points out.

An engine revs behind you, and you glance out of the back window, quickly noticing the nondescript van behind you. “Uh, mom?”

She nods once, removing her gun from its holster as the van moves into the lane beside the shop. You and Nolan similarly prepare to defend yourselves. The van sits beside the shop momentarily before turning onto another road.

“Uh, that was…” Nolan begins.

“Exilirating,” your mom finishes.

“I was gonna say ‘terrifying.’”

“What if we meet in the middle and say ‘dangerous,’” you recommend.

“That’s a good choice too.”

“7-Adam-15, go to channel 2 for Sergeant Grey.”

“Andersen,” Zoe calls after switching to the proper channel.

“It worked,” Wade says. “Midas forced Cole to lift the greenlight.”

“I guess you are back to being just another rookie,” Zoe tells Nolan as he takes a deep breath.

“But maybe keep your guard up for a few more days,” you suggest. “Just because there’s no greenlight doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

“Does this mean this little partnership is over?” Nolan asks.

“We got a burglary call to take,” Zoe answers with a smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

Following your mom and Nolan into the open door of the burglary location, you take the left side as your mother goes straight, and Nolan goes right. Nolan turns off a radio before a flashbang is thrown into the room. You cover your ears and move toward an assailant before he throws you onto the floor, taking advantage of your disorientation as another man sticks a cattle prod to Nolan’s chest. You’re unsure where your mother is, but as your eyes close, you hope she proves she’s always been the best cop in your family.

✯✯✯✯✯

You regain consciousness first, but the men don’t seem to care about you as they watch Nolan. Handcuffed to wooden chairs with your backs to the pool, you don’t have many options to break free, so you can only hope that your fellow officers have noticed how much time has passed since you radioed a code 6 upon arrival.

Nolan groans as he wakes, and you can’t warn him to stay quiet before he’s noticed.

“Look who’s awake,” Cole says as he turns toward Nolan, holding up the electrical prod. “Packs quite a kick, doesn’t it? It’s got four times the voltage as LAPD uses. Could probably cook the eyeball right out of your skull.”

Leaning back, Nolan replies, “Look, look, I did not intend to disrespect Astrid, okay? Or you, okay? And I would be happy to apologize.”

“Too late for that now. Only way this ends is with you dead.”

Your mom chuckles, and your head snaps toward her as she continues, “Yeah, I, uh, I’d heard that you were dumb, but it is shocking to see it in person.”

“Dumb?” Cole repeats.

“Dumb,” you say with your mother.

“Who lured you into an ambush with a false surrender?”

“Does your father know that it was false? Huh, junior? I can’t imagine that revelation’s gonna go too well, huh?”

“I think it’ll go fine.”

“Oh, he’s dumber that I thought. What’s my rank?”

“What?”

“Her rank, idiot,” you interject. “You should be able to tell by her uniform.”

“Who cares?”

“I have a feeling you will.”

“You put a hit out on a rookie,” your mom adds. “But two bars and a badge that says ‘Captain’? You’ve just crossed a line that anybody with half a brain would run screaming from. A line that even your father might whack you for crossing. Understood? So, let me tell you how this is gonna go. You and your little goonies are gonna-“

Cole lunges forward, pressing the prod against her. You pull against your restraints as she yells in pain.

“Hey! Cole! No!” Nolan yells. “Hurt me! Right? I’m the one you want hurt, right? Killing me, that’s trouble you can handle, okay? But not her. You need to let her go.”

“Do you think I’m dumb, too?”

“No.”

Cole looks back and forth between Nolan and your mother. When he moves toward her, you and Nolan yell, “No!” but can’t stop him from kicking her chair into the pool.

“No! No! No!” Nolan chants, fighting the handcuffs.

While you pull as hard as you can, attempting to break free, you begin tipping your chair back toward the water.

“If the line’s already been crossed, then there’s no going back. Which means non of you are walking out of here. As long as your bodies never turn up, the murder can’t be pinned on me,” Cole says.

Twisting in your chair, moving onto two chair legs, you watch your mother struggle underwater through blurry eyes, your vision affected by your tears.

“No, you’re wrong,” Nolan answers before offering to make a video apologizing to Astrid. “Just get her out first. Right now,” he adds after Cole agrees.

“No, you got to make the video first. Come one!”

“Nolan!” you grunt, hoping he makes this quick.

Turning back to look at the pool, you think your mother’s arm is free, and as she swims to the surface, pulling one of Cole’s “goonies” into the water, Nolan tips his chair to tackle Cole to the ground. You move toward the other man, unconcerned, when he points a gun at you. Headbutting him once you’re on the ground, you flinch when a gunshot sounds in the pool.

“No, no, no,” you repeat lowly, turning toward the water’s edge.

Your mom raises over the edge, shooting the man standing above you.

“Mom, no!” you warn as Cole reaches for his gun.

You and Nolan struggle against the cuffs, and when a bullet hits your mom’s neck, time seems to slow down. She presses a hand to the wound before she lowers back into the water.

“No!” you scream, your voice cracking with emotion. “No, no, stay up!”

“No, Cap-“ Nolan calls.

“Mom!”

Nolan breaks his chair and dives into the pool as you watch helplessly. 

“Come on,” Nolan repeats, beginning chest compressions.

“Nolan,” you whisper, sobbing against the wet concrete beneath you. “It’s too late.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Nolan tells you to stay still while he breaks your chair, but with your attention on your mom, that should be the least of his concerns. He frees you, pulling one end of the handcuffs away from the chair so you can move.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“It- it isn’t your fault.”

You begin crying again, looking at the bloody water as you kick the pieces of the chair away from you. Releasing a pained yell, you move to your knees, sitting beside your mom as sirens approach.

Nolan is beside you, unmoving, until Wade places a hand on his shoulder. Tim rushes to your side, kneeling beside you as he pulls you up.

“It was Cole,” Nolan says.

Tim leads you away from the pool as the coroner moves your mom into a flag-covered coffin. As you follow the procession through the line of officers, you stop beside Tim, waiting for his nod before you continue.

After the coroner leaves and Wade dismisses everyone with instructions to find Cade, you avoid looking at Tim. You can’t fall apart until you catch her killer. 

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into roll call the following morning, Bishop offers you her seat, and you gladly take the place beside Tim. He slides the black strap over your badge before taking your hand under the table. You stay behind the roadblock, letting Nolan and Tim approach Cole to make the arrest. Once he is in cuffs and in the back of a shop, you holster your weapon and keep your eyes on Tim.

He rushes to you, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says against your hair. “Do you want to go with them?”

Shaking your head, you move toward Tim’s shop, and Lucy nods as she finds another ride back to the station.

“I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her, Tim,” you say when you’re alone.

“The hurt never goes away, but it lessens,” Tim promises. “And I’m right here.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Somehow, you manage to get through the funeral without falling apart. The moment you prepare to go home, to begin a life without her, that changes. You freeze on the sidewalk, looking back to the headstone.

“C’mon,” Tim murmurs as he approaches you. “You’re not staying alone tonight.”

“I can’t do this, Tim.”

“Yes, you can. Look at me. She loved you, and she wanted you to live and love, and do what you wanted to do. Do not let that monster take your life, too.”

Tim cups your cheeks, kissing your forehead as you nod.

“I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t apologize. It- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but you’re not alone, okay?”

“I know,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim holds you against his chest until you fall asleep, but you don’t get much rest before a nightmare wakes you. Slipping out of Tim’s arms, you walk into his backyard and close the door behind you. Sitting on his deck, you feel like you’re back in Cole’s yard, frozen and unable to do anything more than scream. Why didn’t you take action like Nolan? Get the gun somehow before Cole got away from Nolan? … Why didn’t you save your mother?

Pressing your hand against your mouth, you attempt to silence your cries, but you should have realized that Tim would notice the moment you left his side. He closes the patio door softly, sitting beside you.

“Can I come closer?” he asks softly.

You shake your head quickly, and your thoughts spiral. So many things could have been done differently, and maybe this is a sign that you should have never come to Los Angeles, never have become a cop and that you are the reason she is dead.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim calls, demanding your attention as he grabs your hand. “Breathe. Breathe with me.”

As Tim grounds you, you crawl toward him, letting him hold you as you fall apart in his arms. Crying into his chest, you eventually fall asleep again, and Tim whispers a promise that he will always be here for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

The first few weeks are the hardest as reality sets in, and you relive the moment. Tim never leaves your side, though, offering a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, or a reminder that you are not to blame. As the time between tears grows longer and you can look at pictures of her and smile, you decide you’re ready to return to work.

“Are you sure? If you need more time, that is completely understandable,” Tim replies.

“I’m sure. You told me not to let Cole take my life, and I’m ready to start living again.”

“Still room for me?” Tim asks with a smile.

“Loads of room for you,” you promise, leaning against him.

“Then I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

So, when you walk into work three months later, you assume that Tim is responsible for the round of applause and the “Welcome Back” banner hanging in the bullpen. You and Tim are both surprised by how easily you return to the station, smiling as you greet your friends and able to walk past your mom’s office with nothing more than a sad smile. 

✯✯✯✯✯

After practically moving into Tim’s house after the funeral, you know where everything is. So, when he spills a drink while watching the game, unable to draw his eyes from the screen, he asks you to get him some dry clothes.

“Sure thing,” you reply, smiling at him.

Tim yells when his team scores, and you shake your head in loving amusement as you enter his closet. Moving a small basket to get a shirt from behind it, you accidentally knock something onto the floor. When you stand after picking it up, you realize that it’s a jewelry box. Opening it, you see the one thing you didn’t expect.

In the other room, one of the teams calls a time-out, and commercials begin playing. Tim realizes that you’ve been in the bedroom for a while, so he stands, stretching as he sets out to check on you.

“Did you fall into a-“ he begins, freezing when he sees you staring at the engagement ring.

“Sorry,” you say, snapping out of your shocked stupor as you close the box and put the ring back. “I knocked it off and didn’t think, uh, here’s a clean shirt.”

Tim grabs your hands rather than the shirt, stopping you before you can walk around him.

“I’ve had it for a while,” Tim explains. “I just- I could never find the right time to ask.”

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you press the shirt against Tim’s chest and ask, “Can you get dressed, please?”

“For what?”

“I need a hug, but you’re really wet.”

Tim laughs, changing right beside you before pulling you toward the bed. He rolls onto his side, looking at your face as you reach for him.

“What about the game?” you whisper.

“Who needs a game when I have you?”

“Well, if you’re not using the tv,” you begin, trailing off.

Tim sighs, kissing your cheek as he reaches over you for the remote. He turns on your favorite movie, inviting you to lay against his chest as you cuddle against him.

“Yes,” you say a few minutes later.

“Yes what?” Tim asks, looking down at you.

You pause the movie, rolling toward Tim to look up at him as you lay your chin against his chest. “If you proposed, I would say yes. No matter when or where.”

Tim smiles, and you decide to watch him rather than the movie.

Considering what his proposal may be like, you whisper, “I wish my mom was here.”

“A few months ago, I left to get breakfast, and then I was acting different the rest of the week. Do you remember that?” Tim asks. You nod, and he continues, “I went to see your mom that day. I showed her the ring and asked for her permission to propose. She told me that I had her blessing and she’d love to have me as a son-in-law.”

Tim smiles as he remembers Zoe's excitement after learning about his plans.

“I was going to propose the weekend that – that she died.”

“She loved you,” you remind him as he brushes his thumbs over your cheeks.

“And I love you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Get dressed,” Tim whispers in your ear as the movie ends.

“What?”

“Put clothes on. Unless you want to go to dinner wearing that,” Tim replies, gesturing to your well-loved pajamas. “Not that you don’t look beautiful, of course.”

“Move,” you mumble, pushing past him to reach the dresser he emptied for you after the funeral.

As he drives you to dinner, you watch Tim’s profile, feeling like the luckiest, most loved woman ever. He stops at a park, exiting beside a tree covered in fairy lights. Walking to the passenger door, he takes your hand and helps you out of the truck.

“Tim, what is this?” you ask.

“Something I should’ve done before,” he begins, kneeling. He looks into your eyes, reflecting the lights above you as he speaks. When you say yes, crying just as Zoe said you would, Tim stands, pulling you into his arms before sliding the ring onto your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi,” you greet, lowering to sit in the grass. You look at the sparkling ring on your finger and smile. “Tim proposed. I- I wouldn’t have seen it coming if I hadn’t found it in the closet.”

The wind blows, wrapping around you like a comforting hug.

“He told me that he went to see you and you gave him your blessing. I know you loved him, and you knew how much I loved him, but… sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve him. He singlehandedly held me together after that day with Cole. And I don’t want to receive more than I give.” Leaning toward the headstone, you read your mother’s name and ask, “What do I do to show him I love him?”

“He knows,” Tim answers, approaching with flowers. “May I join?”

You smile, inviting Tim to sit with you at your mother’s grave. He lays the flowers against her headstone before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“What are we talking about?” he asks.

“Us.”

“That’s my favorite topic.”

As you fall back into conversation with your mom, and Tim joins you, you feel like your mom is sitting across from you. With her love and Tim’s, plus all the love you have to give, you know you will be okay. Great even, you think as you lean against Tim, and the sun glints off the ring on your left hand.

Harsh Words

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,707

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that anyone ever looked for you when you left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” Grey asks.

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

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

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

‘Hey, kid. Where are you?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘y/n, please come home.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n, are you in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

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

Sleeves

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Deacon's son Sam loves giving you temporary tattoos. When Deacon comes home to find you with a full sleeve of them, he admits he could get used to seeing you like this.

Warnings/Word Count: 1.6k+ words of fluff (in which Deac flirts a lot)

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

You step out of the car and sigh. It’s been a long day; you’re tired, stressed, and want to decompress. Before you move toward your door, someone calls your name.

“Sam!” you reply, smiling brightly as you lower to hug him.

“I brought you something,” he mumbles, reaching into his pockets.

“I wonder what it is,” you muse lightly. “Can you give me a hint?”

“No!” he exclaims with a laugh.

After another round of checking his pockets, he withdraws a small square of white cardstock with a plastic film over it. The temporary tattoos have become an inside joke between you and Samuel Kay. Since you did his dad Deacon a favor several months ago and babysat the boys and Lila while he embarked on a late-night raid, you’ve been the happy recipient of more tattoos than you can count. You’ve borne firetrucks, robots, planets, and animals on your skin. Deacon saw the first one, but you’re not sure if he knows that his son enjoys giving you tattoos nearly as much as he enjoys receiving them himself.

“Sam!” Deacon calls, walking into your yard. “What did I tell you about speaking to ladies?”

“Right,” Sam says, pinching his brows as he stands up straighter. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, Mr. Kay, thank you. How are you?”

“Better when I give tattoos,” he answers honestly.

Deacon shakes his head, and you thank Sam for the dog tattoo he gives you.

“How are you, older Mr. Kay?” you ask Deacon.

Sam looks between you and his dad, then returns to his brother and sister. You watch him go, smiling at his joy.

“Better when I see you,” Deacon answers.

“You’re teaching your children to be flirts, you know that, right?”

Deacon shrugs. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“My team was invited to an event the mayor is hosting. It’s tomorrow night and my usual babysitters aren’t available on such short notice.”

“I can absolutely watch the kids for you,” you offer. “As long as I can order them pizza.”

“Pizza!” Matthew shouts.

“They’d love that,” Deacon says, shaking his head. “Thank you. I can pay you or find another way to thank you.”

“Flirt,” you exclaim softly.

“You’ve done a lot for us,” Deacon explains. “Made this transition to single parenting easier. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“You deserve it all and more, Deacon. I’ll see you tomorrow, what time?”

“5?”

“See you at 5,” you promise. “Thanks, Sam!” you call. “Hi, Lila, hey, Matthew!”

They stop playing long enough to wave, and as you walk into your home with the smile only Deacon can bring you, you wonder if Deacon has any idea that you are the lucky one in this arrangement.

“Uncle Luca got it for me,” Sam explains after his dad leaves.

You’d had trouble speaking to Deacon before his teammate Street picked him up. With his form-fitting dark suit on, he’d been more attractive than usual, and your eyes and brain were working overtime.

“Very cool,” you tell Sam, looking at the oversized tattoo booklet with him. “Which one do you want to do first?”

Sam hums as he flips the page, and you stifle a laugh when you realize that he’s acting exactly like Deacon. He reaches a page of tattoos that are all pink and purple. He hesitates, then looks at your arm.

“Can I give you some?” Sam asks.

You shrug before you answer, “Sure. Whatever you want, bud.”

While Deacon regrets leaving you and his kids when he could have stayed home or brought you, you realize that giving Sam permission to do whatever he wants might not have been your best idea.

Deacon’s tie is loosened at his neck when he enters his home. The time with his team was enjoyable, but the night felt long, and he was distracted. By you, even though you were miles away.

“Hello?” Deacon calls softly. “Anyone home?”

“In here!” Lila replies.

Deacon smiles as he follows her voice to the living room. You’re lying on the center cushion of the couch with Sam asleep against your side, Lila lying across your legs, and Matthew fighting to stay awake as he watches an animated movie play on the television screen.

“Thank you,” Deacon whispers.

Half an hour later, he’s carried his children to bed, tucked them in, and wished them goodnight. You’ve straightened up the small mess you made during dinner when he returns to the kitchen. The urge to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight startles Deacon, but he realizes quickly that he should’ve seen it coming.

“We had a lot of fun,” you tell Deacon. “Thanks for letting me hang out with my favorite neighbors.”

Deacon smiles, dipping his chin in a way that makes your heart flutter. He pauses, tipping his head to the side as he looks at your arm. Reminiscent of an intrigued puppy, he gently reaches for your arm and lifts it in front of you.

“Nice sleeve,” he muses after a moment.

You laugh at his teasing, unconsciously leaning against him as he traces his fingers beneath a few tattoos, his touch featherlight yet addictive and enlivening.

“I like it,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Deacon trails his fingers down your arm, then links his fingers in yours to hold your hand.

“How was the thing with the mayor?” you whisper.

“Something was missing,” Deacon admits, using your joined hands to guide you closer.

“You’re jealous of my sweet tats,” you joke softly. “They would look good with your suit.”

Deacon nods, clearly not listening to you. He lifts his other hand to hold the back of your head before he tilts your head, gentle in his movements as he guides you into the perfect position.

“I could get used to it,” Deacon says.

“It?” you repeat, glancing down at his lips.

“Coming home to you, seeing you with my kids, watching Sam cover you in tattoos.”

“I could get used to it, too,” you whisper.

That’s all Deacon needs to hear, and he closes the distance between you. He holds you gently, lovingly, and reverently. Deacon makes the world around you disappear. In this moment, you know him and him alone. Then, he spreads his palm over your tattooed bicep and traces an already flaking mark that sends shivers down your spine.

Three months after Deacon first kissed you in his darkened kitchen, you find yourself against his side during a movie night. Samuel is drawing on your arm with skin-safe markers and a printed picture, but you’re not allowed to look until he’s finished because he wants to surprise you. Lila’s hair remains in braids after your girls’ lunch earlier today. This feels like home. Like you’re where you’re supposed to be.

“Looks good, Sam,” Deacon says, his chest moving against your back as he speaks.

“Can I look yet?” you request.

Sam caps a marker, then nods and bends your arm so you can see it. The flowers and shapes lining the top and bottom of your forearm are messy in the most perfect way, but it’s the handwritten note that catches your attention. Sam tried hard, and from how slowly he moved the marker along your skin, you know he was copying his dad’s handwriting.

“Thank you, Sam,” you say before you turn to face Deacon. “Yes,” you tell him, smiling brightly as you reach for him.

Deacon smiles, pleased by your answer to Sam’s tattooed ‘Will you be Daddy’s girlfriend?’ tattoo. “Nice sleeve,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest to kiss you.

“Which one?” Lila asks, holding up two temporary tattoos.

You point to the one on the right: two interlocked rings. Your arm has slowly become covered from your shoulder to your wrist. With less than thirty minutes until you walk down the aisle to marry Deacon, you already know his reaction will be great.

Lila takes your unmarked hand, and you smile as you look down at her. She looks adorable in her dress, and how she looks at you like she loves you and the life you’re creating for her with Deacon makes your heart thump harder in your chest.

“Can I call you Mom now?” she asks.

You fight the tears threatening to build in your eyes, unwilling to disturb your makeup. “If- if you want to, Lila, of course you can.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she says.

She skips toward the small table by your vanity table and takes a mint as if she didn’t just change your entire life with a single word. Luca knocks on your door and smiles at you before he tells you it’s time to take your place at the end of the aisle.

Deacon’s eyes are on you the moment you come into view. His gaze drops to your arm, but then he sees you. His eyes are watery when you reach the altar, and you shake your head as a warning not to cry.

“That’s my favorite sleeve yet,” Deacon tells you before the ceremony begins.

As your reception closes, and only your closest friends and family remain, you hold a sleeping Sam in your arms, and Deacon spins Lila around the dance floor. You're in your new life now, your family. If every moment feels half as perfect as this – temporary tattoo sleeve or you as you are – then you can never ask for anything more.

Bonus:

“So, what are you planning to do with your dress?” Deacon asks.

You look up from your phone, where you’d been scrolling through crafts to preserve your wedding decorations. “One side of my dress is covered with temporary tattoo stains,” you remind him. “I’m going to treasure that forever.”

“We can just give you new tattoos next time you want to ruin an outfit,” Deacon points out. “Or when we get back from the honeymoon, or when-“

“I get it,” you interrupt. “You like the sleeves.”

“Yeah, I do. But I love the girl under them.”

Tim Through the Years - The Meeting

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets a very young boy who is all alone in the police station. Then he meets a frazzled teacher who changes his life forever. 0.6k+ words

A/N: An extra special thanks to my friend for creating this series with me (and writing most of it)! I hope every reader enjoys our ideas about what it would be like to fall in love with Tim Bradford!

It was an average day in the Mid-Wilshire Police Station; Tim had just returned from a robbery that ended with him having the suspect in custody fairly quickly. The robber forgot his mask for one and for two, left his business card in a fishbowl to try to win a free lunch. They caught the guy in just 10 minutes, so the day was going well so far. But his mood quickly turned sour when he had to do a mountain of paperwork due to the fact that his robber was a wanted criminal in at least three different states with various crimes under his belt. 

Meanwhile, y/n was walking into the station, trying to get all 40 kindergartners into the police station without losing any of them. It was career week for their school and the Mid-Wilshire Precinct had invited all the students to visit the station on different days. It was hers and one other teacher's turn to visit, so here she was trying to wrangle 40 different students into the Roll Call room. It was as easy as herding cats, but with the help of some parents and the other teacher, they made it to the room with everyone accounted for.  Sergeant Grey introduced himself to the students and explained what his role at the station was and what the room they were in was used for.

“Now, rookies, are you ready to get your assignments?” Grey questioned the group.

Of course, the students got very excited to be police officers for day and all responded with, “Yes, sir!”

Once the excitement died down, Gray split the students into three groups (each group had an adult and an officer). A group was sent to look and learn about the shops, another to booking, and the last went to the interrogation rooms. 

Tim was so busy trying to get the paperwork done that he completely missed all the students going to their area until he felt like he was being stared at. When Tim looked up from his paperwork, two bright blue eyes stared back at him.

“Do you like donuts?” the child asked.

“Uh….yeah,” Tim answered while looking for the child's mother.

“Is it hard to catch bad guys?”

Tim squinted his eyes and asked this child, “Where’s your mother?”

“Johnny!”

Tim turned and saw a beautiful young woman walking up to the small boy at his desk.

She crouched down at this level and softly asked, “Is this where you ran off too? It's your turn to get fingerprinted and have your picture taken.”

“But Miss. Winchester! This is a Real-Life Police Officer! I have lots of questions that need answers!!” Johnny exclaimed.

The woman patted Johnny on the head. “I know, and he’s very busy at the moment so let's leave him alone and ask another officer, okay?”

Johnny glanced at a scowling Tim. “My mommy tells my daddy that being grumpy isn't good for your heart,” he said before skipping off to the booking room. 

Tim heard a giggle before he turned to the gorgeous smiling woman in front of him.

“Sorry about him, he’s one of my spunkier students,” she explained.

Then it clicked in Tim’s head. “Oh, you're here touring the station with your class right?”

Her smile grew as she answered, “Yep, that’s me. Hi.” She reached her hand out to shake Tim’s. “I’m y/n Winchester.”

Tim took her hand, and he’d never felt anything softer.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Tim Bradford, but you can call me Tim,'' he flirted.

Y/n blushed as she replied, “Well … I better get back to my class.”

She started to walk back toward where Johnny ran off to and Tim decided that it was now or never to get back into the dating game.

“Wait! Could I maybe take you out to dinner?” he called after her.

Home to My Family

Amazing idea from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.

Warnings: child abduction, r just gave birth but story begins post-labor, angst, happy ending with fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

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“Congratulations,” the doctor says as your second baby is placed in your arms. “Two healthy babies.”

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, your eyes on the baby boy in your arms.

“A nurse will be in shortly to take them for full checkups,” someone informs you.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks.

You look away from your son and smile at the sight of Tim holding his daughter. She beat her brother into the world by nearly three minutes, and Tim has been enraptured with her since then.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “We did good.”

Tim scoffs and lays his hand on your son’s back as he corrects, “We did great.”

“Hello, Bradfords,” a nurse greets with a knock on the open door. “I’m here to borrow these babies.”

You watch as Tim hands your daughter to the nurse to be placed in a bassinet before he turns to you to take your son. It makes you uncomfortable to hand them over so soon after giving birth, but the first checkup is necessary. Tim takes your hand and sits on the edge of your hospital bed to wait together.

“Did you call Angela?” you ask.

“Where are those pretty Bradford babies?” another nurse singsongs as she enters. “Checkup time!”

You furrow your brows, but Tim is on his feet before you can ask any questions. Tim is heartbreakingly familiar with the reality of evil in the world, and he realizes before you that something terrible has happened. As he races into the hall, fear settles over you as tears build in your eyes. If the real nurse is here now, who has your children? And where are they?

The nurse leaves to double-check that your babies weren’t transported by another nurse, and you’re left alone. After several minutes alone, scared, Tim returns and shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tightly, but you can tell he’s only a moment from breaking.

“I reported it to the department,” Tim says, his voice tight. “Angela’s on the way and I let her know too.”

You nod before you sit up carefully, wincing in pain as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, hey, no,” Tim murmurs, rounding the foot of the bed. He lowers before you and lays his hands over your thighs. “You just gave birth; you need to rest.”

“I need to find them, Tim. We have to find them!” you exclaim through your cries.

“I know. We will, I promise we will.”

“But you don’t need my help.”

Tim smiles at your attitude, understandable anger building beneath your pain, fear, and tiredness.

“Your help isn’t the issue, it’s your health.”

“Timothy,” Angela greets. She walks to your side and hugs you tightly. “Tell me everything.”

You lie back carefully as Tim recounts the events of the past few minutes. Angela nods along, then looks around your room.

“They’re still in the hospital, I’d bet,” Tim concludes.

“Grey stationed officers at every opening to keep it that way,” Angela responds. “There’s plenty of hiding places in a hospital. But Tim…”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I have no idea who would do this. I’ve put plenty of people away, called CPS hundreds of times, any of those people could have decided to return the favor.”

Lucy and Nolan knock on the open door, and Tim waves them in as Angela draws a diagram of the hospital on the whiteboard opposite you. Lucy walks directly to your side while Nolan stands beside the door to watch the hallway.

“What do you need?” Lucy asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Other than the obvious.”

“We’re going to find them. Half of the station is here for you.”

“There’s only one option that finishes this quickly,” Angela decides. “We split up and search every floor of this hospital.”

Tim looks to you rather than answering, and you promise, “I’m okay to be alone. I trust you, all of you, to find them and bring them back to me. Do whatever you have to do.”

“We will,” Tim promises. “Nolan, stay here, keep an eye on this hallway. Lucy, you’re with me.”

Lucy squeezes your hand kindly before she walks to Tim’s side. Nolan steps out of your room with them and closes the door. Completely alone, all you can do is wait.

“Hey,” Tim calls urgently. A male nurse spins and raises his hands in question. “Have you seen a nurse in pink scrubs with twins?”

“There’s lots of nurses, pink scrubs, and twins here, sir,” the man answers.

Tim takes a measured step toward him, and the man steps back urgently, bumping into the desk behind him.

“Do you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a kidnapping?”

“Sir, if you’ve seen a woman in pink scrubs with two bassinets, you need to tell us now,” Angela interjects.

“I haven’t,” he answers quickly. “I swear I haven’t.”

Tim steps away from the scared nurse and sighs.

“This floor is clear, no sign of them,” Angela reports.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he retrieves it without looking away from the empty hallway.

“I remember when I wasn’t allowed to look at my phone on duty,” Lucy muses.

“Your children hadn’t been abducted,” Tim snaps. He reads a message, furrows his brows, and then says, “Angela.”

Angela knows that Tim using her first name isn’t a good sign, and she's proven right when he passes his phone over. “Where is this?”

“I can’t tell. The message seems familiar,” Tim replies.

Angela zooms in on the picture while Tim repeats the message to himself. Lucy moves beside Angela and looks at the picture, pointing to any discernable items in the background. The image shows your son in the bassinet front and center, and while it’s clear that they’re still in the sterile, white hospital, it’s unclear where.

“Supply closet,” Angela realizes just as Tim says, “Keiran Tumble.”

“The counterfeiter?” Lucy asks. “What’s his problem with you?”

“I arrested him, but I’m also why he lost visitation rights for his kids. They were in the warehouse with the printing fumes. He hasn’t been out of prison long.”

“Prison for counterfeiting?”

“Federal prison. The Reserve pressed additional charges. When he got out, he got served with the papers about his kids.”

“Wait,” Angela interrupts. “You said it was a female nurse.”

“Keiran’s girlfriend,” Tim guesses. “I didn’t see her, she wasn’t there when we raided his operation, but I’ve heard plenty about her.”

“Me too. Tim, she’s suspected of at least three murders. This isn’t a manhunt; we have to find her without risking your kids.”

“ Supply closet?” Tim repeats. “Let’s find the right one, and then we move in. She makes one move toward them, and you drop her.”

“Tim, maybe you should sit this one out,” Lucy suggests.

“No,” Angela answers. “If this were Jack, I’d want to be right there when we found him. Look that monster in the face and remind her that at the end of every day, I go home to my family.”

“I’m more use here, Chen,” Tim assures. “How’s Nolan?”

“He said everything’s clear there. Only a few nurses through since we left.”

Tim nods, but Angela purses her lips in thought.

“What?” Tim inquires.

“Isn’t your room across from a supply area? Wouldn’t someone have needed something by now?” she asks.

“No one saw them because they didn’t go far,” Lucy realizes.

“Let’s go!” Angela exclaims.

Fiddling with the blanket over your legs, you think about what you will do when you get your babies back. Kiss them, apologize even though they won’t know what’s happening, and then beg Tim to take you home. You refuse to think about any alternative.

“Yep,” Nolan says on the other side of your door. “All clear here, too. Good luck.”

“C’mon, Tim,” you whisper.

You trust him more than anything, but right now, your fear threatens to override all of your rational thoughts.

Suddenly, a single gunshot sounds. Immediately after, you hear screams and loud promises that everything is alright and everyone is safe. You, however, refuse to believe it until you see your husband and children. Frozen in uncertainty and fear, you count your shallow breaths rather than running through possible scenarios.

Two firm knocks on your door are followed by Nolan smiling as he holds the door open. Tim steps in with both of your babies cradled in his arms and a relieved look. You release a shaky breath, then smile as tears roll over your cheeks.

“It’s over,” Angela promises as she hugs you. “We got her.”

Tim walks to the other side of your bed and carefully lowers the twins to your chest. They coo softly in their sleep, none the wiser about what they’ve been through. Holding them against you, you kiss their heads and whisper that you love them.

“Do you know what you need now?” Lucy asks.

“Get me out of here,” you beg, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answers, leading Nolan out of the room.

“What happened?” you ask Tim.

“Do you remember Keiran Tumble?” You nod, and he places his arm around your shoulders as he continues, “He got out, mad about his arrest and losing his kids, and sent his girlfriend to make me feel some of the same pain. Or that’s the working theory.”

“It’s right,” Angela adds. “Only a criminal would be that stupid.”

"So, Nolan radioed an all-clear, got her guard down, and we went in. She shouldn't be out for a very long time."

You lay your head against Tim’s shoulder and say, “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too!” Angela jokes.

“If you weren’t our first choice for godmother, I’d kick you out,” Tim tells her.

“You love me.”

“Thank you,” you interject. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“I’m going to go fill in Grey and then make sure your house is ready for an early return,” Angela says as she steps toward the door. “Need anything else?”

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” you answer. “I’ll call you later.”

“Like she won’t still be at the house when we get home,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey, I filled up your freezer with comfort food, be nice to me, Timothy.”

Alone with your babies, you smile as Tim extends his finger to your slowly waking son. You’ll never get tired of being with them, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side than Tim Bradford.

Why We Pretend We Can't

Part 2 of Pretending You Can't

Requested Here!

Pairing: Adam Karadec x fem!cop(analyst)!reader

Summary: Months after he realized how touch starved you are, Karadec continues helping you overcome your touch starvation and get used to touch.

Warnings: touchstarved r, emotional vulnerability, canon-divergent backstory for Karadec, minor injuries, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

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“Lieutenant Melon asked to see you,” an officer tells you.

You look up from your desk in the Major Crimes bullpen and nod once. You’ve spoken to him a few times since you were transferred out of Robbery/Homicide, but an early-morning call can’t be anything good. Coming in early to complete reports has become a habit, but your routine is interrupted. You lock your computer screen before you stand, and when you brush your hands together, you realize that the muscles in your arms and hands have tensed.

Last night, you didn’t sleep well, thinking about your loneliness and relationships that aren’t where they should be. It’s a cycle you’re used to, but one you thought you left behind when you found a group of friends and realized that Adam Karadec’s hands feel like home. Yet, it’s been a long few months since his unexpected house call, and not every day can be good.

“Good morning,” you greet, knocking on Melon’s open door.

“Morning, traitor,” he replies. “I’ve got something I could use your help on.” You open your mouth to argue that you have a new job, but he cuts you off. “I promise it’ll only take a few hours. I need some intel and no one else seems to be able to find it.”

“What intel?” you inquire.

“String of robberies in the nicest neighborhoods of Los Angeles. The thieves seem to be targeting houses with expensive safes.”

“Marketed as impregnable?”

“Some, but not all. Most of these safes run upwards of $10,000, and they’re opening them like pocket doors. Current estimated losses from the insurance companies is around $2 million.”

“Homes have security systems?”

“They do. I’ve got a list of addresses, safe makes and models, security system information, and how much time the crew spent in each home.”

“How big is the crew? And how much time are they averaging?”

“Five people, from what we can tell, spending less than 9 minutes inside.”

You hum, somewhat impressed by the criminal crew's efficiency. “Email me the information and I’ll see what I can find.”

“You’re the best!”

“I’m not coming back,” you reply with a smile.

“It was worth a shot.”

Back at your desk, you organize Melon’s quickly-typed reports into a spreadsheet. Then, you pull up property records to look for any connection between the homeowners. You don't hear anyone enter the bullpen as you compare and analyze the information about the different security systems and safes.

A hand lands on your shoulder, and you jerk away from the unexpected touch. Morgan lifts her hand when you move and sends you a close-lipped smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she offers.

“It’s fine,” you reply, smiling as you shake your head. “I just didn’t hear you come in, lost in the work. Sorry.”

“What work?” she inquires, setting her bag on Karadec’s desk. “I thought we closed the last case yesterday.”

“The last case for now,” Oz corrects as he walks to his desk.

“I’m assisting Melon with a string of safe robberies.”

“He does remember that you’re not his gopher, right?” Daphne inquires.

“Do you guys carpool?” you wonder aloud.

“No, we just get to work on time,” Karadec answers, looking between you and Morgan. “You should try it sometime.”

“If you’re not early, you’re late.”

“And you’ll sleep when you’re dead?” Karadec challenges. “Thin line between dedication, obsession, and avoidance.”

“Are we taking a break from murder and mayhem for philosophy?” Soto interjects.

“Something like that,” Daphne replies. “Have anything for us?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then we can help with the safe cracking!” Morgan announces.

“I think I found the connection,” you say. “Every one of these safes was manufactured in California, and the homeowners purchased them from West Coast Safes. The safes are installed by a five-man team.”

“You think the installation team is robbing the safes,” Karadec clarifies.

“I do.”

He nods, and Daphne calls Morgan to her desk for her opinion. Karadec moves to stand beside you, and his gaze drops to your tense shoulders, your muscles tightened from holding your shoulders back and up as if you’re guarding yourself against something.

“What are they stealing?” he asks.

“Guns, jewelry, silver, the standard safe contents.”

“Are the safes specific to those contents?”

You hum, pulling up the specs once more. “All but one. The most recent robbery was a tactical safe, but the insurance claim lists precious metals as stolen.”

“They could be looking for something specific, then.”

“I’ll pass that along to Melon,” you offer. “Thank you.”

Karadec nods, watches you email your spreadsheet and findings, and then steps toward the door with you.

“I’ll be right back,” you remind him.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

You purse your lips, then nod. As you walk away, feeling Karadec’s eyes on you, you’re reminded of Morgan’s unexpected touch this morning. Karadec sees you past your professionalism and analytic abilities and sees the loneliness and touch deprivation you hide behind your smile. A few hugs from Karadec will help, but the emotions beneath longing for a caring touch won’t disappear if he stays close.

When you return from lunch – which you ate alone in your car because your friends are investigating an attempted assassination – there’s something in your chair. You pull it away from your desk and smile when you realize what it is. Last week, you investigated a stabbing in a neighborhood grocery store and saw a police officer Squishmallow. You couldn’t justify buying a stuffed animal for yourself, especially at a bloody scene. As you pull the soft koala into your arms, you smile. You suspect you know who may have noticed your infatuation with Detective Kirk. But there are no real clues as to which of your new friends gifted you the perfectly huggable detective. With him safe in your bag, you open a report and return to work, your heart feeling lighter with the knowledge that someone cares.

Running your finger along your opposite forearm, you attempt to soothe yourself and go to sleep. Your blankets are arranged comfortably, your new Squishmallow is cuddled against your side, and the mellifluous melody of white noise fills your room. Still, you can’t fall asleep because you feel as if you are drowning in your loneliness and sorrow. Your mind races with the idea that you’ll never be in a meaningful relationship, held just for the sake of it, or kissed breathless because someone can’t help but show you they love you.

Fighting the urge to reach for your phone, you close your eyes and try to imagine you’re somewhere else, living a different life. Your doorbell ringing interrupts that attempt to induce slumber. You ignore it, but the knocks that follow make you groan. Rather than looking at the doorbell camera, you remove yourself from your comfortable imitation of a nest, pull your robe on, and walk to the front door.

“Karadec,” you greet, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but you pulled back. I know I told you that you decide how far this goes, but if you don’t get some help, this is going to get worse.”

“I know,” you murmur. You open the door wider, tip your head inside, and close the door behind Karadec.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I don’t want to pull away when someone I care about reaches toward me, but I can’t stop it,” you admit. “Morgan laid her hand on me this morning, and it hurt so much. I didn’t even think about it before I moved.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Why are you being so nice to me about this?” you inquire.

“Because I’ve been there,” he offers. “My old partner and I were friends, we hung out, slapped each other on the back, and then he left. I was alone, and before I even realized that I hadn’t been hugged in months, I was recoiling from every little thing.”

“How’d you make it better?”

Karadec shrugs. “I don’t think I did. I’ve always had a problem with touch-“

“The hand sanitizer,” you interject.

“Yeah… so when I started dreading people touching me, I kind of accepted it. You can’t do that.”

“You did.”

“You aren’t me. This is hurting you. It’s not just the pain of unexpected touch; there’s anxiety, stress, loneliness, and based on the fact that you opened the door, I’m betting you’re having trouble sleeping.”

“You Googled touch starvation, didn’t you?” you ask, lifting your brows.

“No,” Karadec answers, incredulous. “I asked Morgan.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you step closer to Karadec.

“Do you want to talk to someone?” he asks.

“Not really.”

“Do you want to become a cat person and have them to cuddle?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want any help?”

“I… I don’t know. The only time I can remember enjoying being touched was with you.”

Karadec doesn’t reply, and you close your eyes, realizing how it sounded.

“Sorry,” you offer. “I just mean- I don’t have many people in my life, and that was new. But it was different.”

Karadec nods, but your eyes are still closed. He reaches toward you, stops an inch short, and lets his warmth linger. With his eyes on your face, he doesn’t notice you lean forward until your hand bumps into his.

“Why me?” you ask, blinking your eyes open but not moving your hand.

“Why not you?” Karadec challenges.

“That’s not an answer.”

You turn your hand, pressing your palm to Karadec’s larger one. He swipes his thumb across your knuckles, and you shiver at the feeling. Your shoulders drop at his touch, your tension loosening at the physical statement that you are not alone, that someone cares about you.

“Detective Kirk,” you say.

“Who?” Karadec asks, his brows lifting.

“The Squishmallow,” you explain. “Was that from you?”

“Cuddling something can help.”

“Thank you.”

“The less touch-starved you are, the easier it will be to encounter unfamiliar touch.”

“So, you’re saying that if I want to stop overreacting to being touched, I need to be touched more. That sounds like a solid plan,” you deadpan.

“I’m saying that this isn’t 0 to 60, you’re going to have to warm up to being touched. Hold someone’s hand sometime, shake a stranger’s hand, and then ask for a hug. Little things to adjust.”

“I can’t just do that, Karadec.”

He looks pointedly at your interlaced fingers, then back up at your face. Settled on the back of your couch, he’s shorter than you, and you look over his head as you smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“Then do it with me, but don’t let yourself spiral in this.”

“We’ll have to invest in bulk hand sanitizer,” you muse.

Karadec’s gaze wanders around your home, and when he sees your fridge - and the to-do list on it - he tilts his head in thought. “You’re task-driven, analytic, right?”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmur.

“Here’s your first task-“

“Are you my therapist now?”

“First task,” Karadec repeats sternly. “This week, find an opportunity to comfort someone with touch. A hand on their shoulder, tap the back of their hand during a shake, whatever it may be. It can be 2 seconds or 20 minutes, but you initiate it.”

“I… okay, I can do that.”

“Good.” Karadec lifts his free hand to your waist, and you step into his touch. “Does it hurt?”

“Not so much now,” you whisper.

Karadec smiles, then jokes, “First two visits are free of charge.”

“… doesn’t get me.”

Karadec hears Ava but hasn’t seen Morgan all morning. He walks toward the office where he thinks she is and stops when he hears another voice.

“Do you get her?”

Aware that he’s intruding, Karadec turns away, but he sees you through the blinds. Your hand rubs comforting circles on Ava’s back, and Karadec returns to the bullpen with a smile.

“Where is she?” Karadec demands as he enters the emergency room. “Now.”

“3rd door,” the nurse answers quickly, pointing down the hall.

“What was he thinking?” Karadec asks Daphne. “She’s an analyst.”

“She’s really good at more than analyzing, you know that,” Daphne reminds him. “It was an audible, and she could have said no.”

“He shouldn’t have asked!”

“Hey, you need to calm down before we go in there.”

Karadec slows, taking a deep breath as he heeds Daphne’s advice. The call that you were injured came as a surprise. You were going to look at a safe, accompanied by three police officers, yet you’re in the emergency room, and they’re unharmed back at the station.

“Hey,” Daphne greets, smiling at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you answer. “They’re overreacting.”

“Melon said someone tried to put a drill bit through your head,” Karadec says, stepping inside the curtain. “They’re allowed to overreact.”

“He didn’t,” you reply. “I’m fine.”

Karadec looks at your face and then down your arms. You sport a few scrapes and a forming bruise or two, but otherwise, you look the same as you had at the station.

“Daph, give us a minute?” you request.

“Of course. Need anything?”

You shake your head, and she winks at you before she leaves. Morgan, Daphne, and Oz have known about your feelings for Karadec since you walked into the Major Crimes bullpen a few months ago to answer questions about a suspect you’d investigated before.

“Karadec, I’m okay,” you assure him.

“You shouldn’t have been put in a position to be injured,” he argues.

“Come here?” you ask, beckoning him closer.

He walks to the side of the hospital bed, and you push yourself to sit up before you drape your legs over the side. Karadec holds his hands toward you, ready to assist you.

“Can I please have a hug?” you request.

“Are you sure?” he checks.

You smile and nod, so Karadec leans forward, wrapping his arms lightly around your waist as you circle your arms over his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you say against his shoulder.

Karadec feels you relax, and he tightens his grip on you. You’re adjusting to touch – slowly, but it’s happening – and now you’re asking for it. He knew things were improving when he saw you comforting Ava earlier. Still, he didn’t expect you to initiate a hug this quickly.

“Only for you,” you say.

“Hmm?” he hums in question.

“You’re the only person I can touch without panicking,” you repeat. “For now, at least.”

Karadec pulls back to look at your face and brushes his finger over a scrape on your temple. “Then take whatever you want,” he offers.

A week after your unfortunate encounter with the safe crackers, you accompany Melon to arrest them and accidentally abandon your team in a time of need. Repentant, you get Karadec’s address from Soto and approach his apartment a few minutes before 11 p.m.

You hesitate before you knock on Karadec’s door. His late-night visits to check in on you seemed very out of character for him and still do, despite his explanation that he has been through what you’re struggling with and wants to help. You know he’s awake, but you won’t press him to talk or knock again, you decide. A minute passes, then two, and you shift on his doorstep as you prepare to leave.

“Hey,” Karadec says, pulling his door open.

“Hi,” you greet, wringing your fingers together. “I’m sorry for just showing up, but I heard about what happened with Oz. I should’ve been there.”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes to your shoes. “None of us should have been there.”

“You got everyone home safe, though, Adam. That’s what matters.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Daphne told me you saved his life. He’s still here, focus on that.”

Karadec shakes his head again, and you step into his door, raise your hands, and cup his face. “Don’t think about what could have happened. It’s a slippery slope.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you inside before he pushes the door closed behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“You told me to comfort someone. I told you that I didn’t mind when you touched me.”

You move your right hand to his neck, tipping his face toward yours.

“Stay here with me,” you plead. “You’ve been helping me since we met. Let me return the favor.”

“It wasn’t a favor,” he argues, shaking his head in your hold. “You don’t have to repay it.”

“Then let me stay, just because.”

“Why?”

Your hand slides off his jaw, surprised by his question, but he catches your wrist and uses it to pull you closer.

“Why do we pretend we can’t do this? You feel it, I know you do. But we circle around each other, terrified that we’ll bring out the worst in each other.”

“Maybe the worst is all we can see in ourselves.”

Karadec presses his lips together, and you don’t hesitate this time. No more pretending, giving yourself excuses, or finding reasons it won’t work. That you won’t work together.

You press your chest to his, angle your chin toward his face, and kiss him. He freezes, flexing his hands at your sides before he holds you like he never wants to let go. Karadec is the one source of touch you can never be scared of, grow tired of, get enough of, and as you move together, you begin to see the good. You can’t regrow the trauma from before now, even if you left, because Karadec is one of a kind. You’re where you belong.

“Still think I’m your therapist?” he mumbles when you pull back for a breath.

“My place?” Morgan asks the following morning.

You hug Morgan rather than answering. She pats your back awkwardly, then returns the affection.

“Thank you,” you say against her shoulder.

“Not necessary,” she replies.

“Why don’t we all go out to dinner?” Oz suggests.

“I’m in,” you agree, pulling away from Morgan. “We’re a family, right?”

“Well, that answers that question,” Daphne muses.

“What question?” Karadec asks, pulling his eyes from you.

“The will they portion of what I told you to avoid.”

“It took my nearly dying to get you two there?” Oz deadpans.

“Don’t say it like that,” Karadec chides.

“What are we talking about?” Soto inquires.

“Family dinner,” Morgan answers, laying her hand on your shoulder.

He is Nothing Like You

Tim and Reader have been secretly married for three years, which has done them good, considering the risks of Tim's occupation. One day, while Tim was on shift, he never expected his secrets to start ripping at the seams and spill onto the floor.

MDNI 18+ since it involves sexual activities! I’m gonna do a second part

"I've been meaning to ask you, what's the ring around your neck?" Lucy asks, trying to break the silence in the shop.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it's just a ring to me, no specific meaning," Tim responds while silently praying Lucy would end the conversation there, "Also it's safer if it's around my neck than on my finger."

"Grey wears his wedding band, and you don't see him having any trouble with it," Lucy mentions as Tim chuckles and reminds her that Luna would kill him if he ever took his ring off.

"Just let it go and focus on other important things, like that carjacker right there," Tim said, causing Lucy to jerk her attention back in front of her as he stopped the shop and the both of them get to work.

Once the carjacker was booked and processed, Tim and Lucy were on their way to get back on the road when Grey stopped them with a, "Bradford, my office real quick."

Lucy asks, "What is that all about?" Tim responds, "I don't know, just wait by the shop. I'll be there when I'm finished."

Tim enters Grey's office to see his wife, Y/N, sitting in one of the chairs. "She doesn't look pleased about something," Tim thought to himself before Grey excused himself to let the couple talk privately.

-Y/N's POV-

"Is everything okay?" Tim asked me while I got up from the seat to stand in front of him before I ask him, "Do you remember telling me when we first started dating that your dad died?"

Tim gulps before clearing his throat and answered, "Yes, why are you bringing that up?"

"I was cleaning the house up when the phone rang. It was a hospice nurse calling for you because Tom Bradford was asking for you," I responded before continuing, “Thinking it was the wrong number, I called Genny to ask her what was happening. She told me I needed to have that conversation with you."

Before Tim could answer me, Grey popped his head in to remind Tim about an old case regarding a family friend, Monica Ochoa.

"Do you need to go? I'm not mad. I'm just so confused," I said before Tim turned his head towards Grey and told him he was still on it before turning his attention back to me.

"I'll explain it later, I promise," Tim responds before I nod. Understanding his tone's urgency, I told him I'd be waiting with Kojo at home.

Hours passed before I heard the doorknob jiggle; Kojo had heard it since he had jumped off the couch to run to the door and greet Tim.

"Hey bud," I hear Tim say as his footsteps start toward the living room, bringing him into view.

"Hi," I say as Tim takes a seat next to me before he takes my hands in his.

"I haven't been honest with you about everything, and I am truly sorry. It wasn't fair of me to let you get whiplash from finding out I lied about my dad being dead," Tim responds as I notice tears brimming in his eyes, making me take my hands back and put one of them on his cheek, running my thumb along the bone.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I meant what I said. I'm not mad at you," I whisper, reassuring him before he sighs and responds, "I know, but it still wasn't right of me. So, I want to tell you everything."

"Okay," I say as Tim clears his throat to mention, "The reason I told you he was dead is because he's dead to me. He was abusive. To me and Genny, mostly me."

Before I can ask, he says, "When I was 7, he smashed my head into a wall. Another time, he left me at Griffith Park with only a compass to find my way home, said it's supposed to turn me into a man."

"Tim," I croak out before tears started to fall down my cheeks, "Now I feel bad that you had to reopen those wounds."

"No, no, don't you dare blame yourself," Tim said as he wiped the tears before continuing, "I should've been honest from the get-go, but instead, I wanted to keep that part of my past secret to spare you from the pain. And it was about time I told you since I have to see him."

"You don't need to see him if you don't want to. Don't let this hospice situation guilt you," I respond before Tim shook his head and told me it had to do with the Ochoa case.

"I think he had something to do with it; now I have to face him," Tim says, looking like the little boy who just wanted his dad's love, which prompts me to ask, "Want me to come with you?"

"No, you don't have to. I wouldn't force you," Tim started to say before I cut him off, "I want to. You're my husband, and my vows stated that I will be by your side for every obstacle in your path."

"Okay," Tim whispered as the both of us exited the house hand in hand, preparing to battle this demon together.

We arrived at the facility and entered the room to see my father-in-law lying in his hospital bed.

"Oh, man. Never thought I'd see your face again. Genny tell you to visit?" Tom says as I squeeze Tim's hand harder in comfort.

"Wow, liver really did a number on you, old man," Tim responds before Tom tells him he doesn't have it so bad.

"Nurses here all love me. It's just no one will bring me that shot of Patron I keep asking for," Tom says as he jesters toward the apple juice, saying it's a joke.

"A cruel joke if you ask me," I thought before glancing at Tim's face to see he thinks the same.

"You always seem to have someone looking after you, even when you don't deserve it," Tim responds, squeezing back my hand.

"Something on your mind, son?" Tom asked, clearly wanting this to be done and over with.

"Remember Frank Ochoa? Lived down the street. Shot to death 25 years ago. Well, I'm sure you remember his wife, Monica," Tim responds.

"Can't say I do," Tom deflects, obvious sign that he does remember.

"Come on. You were sleeping with her behind Mom's back," Tim says, making Tom laugh, and he asks where he got that from. Tim mentions that he saw the two of them together when he was 13.

"Oh, crap," Tom says before Tim continues, "For some reason that I still don't understand, I lied for you, lied to Mom."

"Poor little Tim-Tim," Tom degrades before spouting out, "What are you bitching about? You kept your mouth shut. You did good. Now get over it."

I feel my blood start to boil in anger at the audacity, the disrespect this son of a bitch in front of me had for the man I plan to spend forever with and have children with, but I keep quiet because he seems to not care about my presence.

"You know, I found the gun that you hid in the wall. I know you killed Frank. But why'd you do it? You wanted Monica all to yourself?" Tim asked before continuing, "Ruining one family wasn't just enough for you, was it?"

Tom takes his cannula out before getting off the bed and walking towards us. "And so what if I did?" What are you gonna do about it?"

"Get back in bed," Tim grits out as he moves me to stand more behind him for safety reasons, prompting Tom to challenge him with a "Make me."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You're right. I killed Frank. But he had it coming. So screw him, and screw you," Tom says before telling Tim to put the cuffs on him and drag him away from his deathbed like a big man.

"This isn't over," Tim responds as he grabs my hand again, and we both leave Tom's room.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have heard all of that," Tim whispers before entering the truck, "I have to get to the station and type up that report. I'll drop you off at home before I do."

"No, take me with you, it would save gas," I said as I explained to Tim it wouldn't make sense to do that.

After arriving at the station, Tim heads to one of the computers while I follow him. I glance over to see his rookie, Lucy, walking over.

"My dad confessed to Frank Ochoa's murder. I'm typing up the report," Tim tells Lucy as she looks at me before gesturing there were ears listening, "She's my wife, she knows."

"Wait, wife?! As in ring on the finger?" Lucy asked in shock as I raised my left hand to show her my wedding band, "We'll get to that later, but Tim, while you were gone, I brought Monica Ochoa back in."

"Why?" Tim asks as Lucy explains, "Because I knew there was more to her story. You couldn't see past the version that you wanted to see."

"What'd she say?" Tim asks again, before Lucy tells him what was confessed.

The look on Tim's face tells me we're going straight back to that hospice facility. We walk back into the room and see Tom snoring in the chair, so Tim places the shot glass and pours Patron before placing the bottle on the table, waking Tom up.

"You brought me a present?" Tom asks before Tim tells him to think of it as a push.

"You didn't kill Frank," Tim says as Tom repeats that he did and tells Tim to cuff him, "Monica confessed."

"Leave her out of this," Tom responds.

"Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close and you needed to frame someone else," Tim says.

"He was a brutal, abusive bastard. She deserves a medal for what she did," Tom responds, making me and Tim look at him in shock.

"He was an abusive bastard?" Tim asked, testing Tom for what came out of his mouth.

Feigning confusion that was fake, Tom asked if he was like him, which prompted him to say he was nothing like Frank.

"I taught you what you needed to know, son. You're a man now because of me," Tom says before I finally let my voice be heard.

"No, absolutely not. You are not getting credit for how Tim turned out," I gritted through my teeth as Tom looked at me with disdain before asking me who I was, "I happen to be the woman your son is going to spend the rest of his life with. I'll be damned if I stand by and let his piece of shit father try to take what's rightfully his credit. You deserve nothing of the sort, he's nothing like you and he will never be like you."

"Tim, you're going to let your wife speak to me this way?" Tom asked before Tim scoffed and responds, "She's right. I'm who I am in spite of you."

As Tom sits there stunned, Tim says, "Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts."

We left the facility without looking back, and after we arrived home, I suddenly felt my body being moved to where my back faced the door and I craned my neck up to look into Tim's eyes.

"Thank you," Tim whispers as I look at him in confusion, "Thank you for being by my side for that. I know it wasn't easy, but you were right. I needed you there with me."

"You don't have to thank me for that, I will always be there for you," I say before Tim smiles and leans down to kiss me.

After kissing for what felt like minutes, Tim moves his mouth to be near my ear and he whispers, "I'm also really turned on by you defending me."

I laugh before asking, "Oh are you? What are you going to do about it?"

I feel Tim's hands move down to my ass before I squeak out in surprise as he hoists me up, causing me to wrap my legs around his waist and feel the outline of his dick through his jean.

"I think I'm going to give my beautiful wife a thank-you gift," Tim whispers before moving towards our bedroom and putting me down on the bed.

"Tim, you don't have to," I started to protest before he cuts me off, "Just let me do it, you deserve it."

My attention gets grabbed while I watch his hands curl around the collar of his shirt before he pulls it up off his body, which, I feel myself start to drool over my husband's abs. His hands then moved to his belt to unbuckle it before he walk up to me and get down on his knees so he can be on the same level as me. Tim pulls me into another kiss, one more passionate than the last, as I feel his hands unbutton my jeans before he pulls the materials down to my ankles to take them off, leaving me in my black panties. He then positions my body to lean back against the pillows before he moves himself to be above me, Tim asks, "Is this okay?"

Not trusting my voice, I nodded my head before Tim's fingers curled around the sides of the panties as he started pulling them down. He groans out in pleasure as he changes his position, his shoulders in between my thighs, keeping my legs where he wants them to be, his hands near the area I yearn for him to pay attention to. I shivered when I felt his breath before he placed his mouth on me, causing me to let out a shuttered moan. When I felt myself getting close, Tim pulled away, causing me to groan out in frustration, making him laugh.

"The only way you're cumming is around my dick," Tim whispered in my ear as he gets himself out of his pants and boxers while he pushes my shirt up to above my chest, showing the matching black bra.

The both of us let out a groan as Tim enters me and starts to thrust, his dick hitting all the right places. After minutes passed, the both of us came and Tim's body moves to his side of the bed as I tell him that was a great gift, making him he let out a soft laugh.

"Glad to be of service," Tim says getting out of bed and putting on clean boxers and pajama pants before he goes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean me up.

After Tim cleaned me up and helped me get dressed, he got back into the bed to pull me into him so we can cuddle.

"Tim?" I said after a moment of silence, causing him to say, "Yeah?"

"I have something for you," I respond before reaching over into my nightstand and pulling out a small box, "I was going to give you this later, but now feels right."

Tim opens the box and pulls out a onesie that says, "My daddy will arrest you if you mess with me."

"Babe, this is perfect for our future baby," Tim responds before he felt his voice stop short when he sees what else is in the box, reaching in to pull out the pregnancy test, "Are you really?"

"Yes, I found out two weeks ago, you're going to be a dad, Tim," I said as Tim pulled me into a tight embrace before kissing the top of my head, "And you're going to be the best dad, I just know it."

"I love you so much," Tim whispers before pulling me into the most loving kiss a girl could ask for.

Tim may have had the worst pick in the dad potluck, but no doubt in my mind he will never treat our children the way Tom treated him and Genny.

Mr. Barber’s Assistant | Andy Barber

Summary: After Jacob’s Trial everything had changed for Andy Barber. He lost his wife, he almost lost his job and his son. Nothing seemed right in his life. Nothing but YOU.

Word Count:  16,090 (Sorry kids, it’s a long one.) 

Warnings: Some Spoilers from Defending Jacob. Mentions of a car accident. Interoffice Romance. Brief mentions of a murder. unprotected sex, Multiple Point of Views. Boss|Assistant dynamic. Cursing. Mentions of cheating. Divorce. Mentions of being in the hospital. Laurie being a bitch. Neal being an asshole. Angry|Andy. pet names. Over protective Andy. Marking!Kink. Having a crush on your boss. Idiots in love with each other. keeping secrets. Mentions of Drinking. Self Doubt. Dirty Talk. Very Brief Hand job (if you squint.). fingering. Oral (f). edging (if you squint.). Consensual Sex. Regret. Second thoughts. Jealous Neal. Slightly possessive Andy. Brief Mention of Andy Getting Himself Off. Teasing. Mentions of Spanking. Mentions of mental health. Bipolar disorder. borderline personality disorder. Over protective Dad!Andy. Guilt about feeling happy. Toxic misogynistic male behavior. Some Ex-Wife Drama. Getting punched in the face.(PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING)

A|N: Hello! Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who reads this and or any of my stories. I hope you enjoy. please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Also I apologize for the length of this one I kind of got carried away. :) enjoy friends. (Pics for the moodboard came from pinterest. I do not own.)  

“Assistant District Attorney; Andy Barber?” a voice from behind you calls. You turn around to see a tall gentleman standing there behind you. There was silence for a minute before you spoke. “Mr. Logiudice, Mr. Barber is in a meeting with the DA.” you say, a firm tone in your voice. He smirked. Like you had just said something funny. Which you had not. “Doll, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Neal.” he stepped towards you.. The door to Andy’s Office swings open. Thank god. You exhale. “Leave her alone Neal, how many times do I have to TELL you…” Andy turns and gives you a flirty wink and nod. You couldn’t help but blush. You sit back behind your desk. Neal sighs, rolling his eyes. “Besides Neal, you’re not her type anyways.” he shoots a blue eyed gaze your way and you practically melt into your chair, biting your lip. 

You weren’t going to lie. You had a crush on the ADA… who didn’t? He was incredibly gorgeous, smart, powerful and sweet as hell, but don’t fuck with him. He didn’t take shit from anyone and everyone knew it. You’d been ADA Barber’s assistant for five years and well it had been a rough last couple of years for him, especially with his son’s trial, and the aftermath of it, his father, through getting divorced from his wife, the accident, the long nights spent at the hospital with Jacob in a coma. It had been a pretty fucked up time for Andy to put it midly. But through everything you always stuck by him, no matter what he needed you were there for him; you’d developed a pretty close friendship. and he never forgot what you’d done for him. 

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