Wasn’t Me

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

The morning of your wedding day dawned misty and cool, the sky an otherworldly grey drifted over by pearly clouds. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of a dress bag hanging from the top of your bed. You threw back the covers and crawled over the bed to get to it, pulling it carefully down and laying it across your lap.

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sanji's first time | sanji x reader

sanji has been wondering what this day would be like for years and he's sure he could die a happy man after a night with you ♡

18+ ACCOUNT/CONTENT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

warnings: sub sanji, men whimpering yeahhhhh, sex for the first time, afab reader!, lots of commanding sanji

sanji pants heavily when you pull off of his cock with a pop, a pathetic whine leaving him when you press a sloppy kiss to the tip. "such a good boy. don't even have to tell you to behave." you giggle as you pump him with your fist, another cry leaving him as he watches your hand and grips the sheets underneath him. you stop only a moment later, crawling into his lap and leaning down to kiss him as you slowly grind back against his cock that's leaking pre-cum and flushed red at the tip. "c-come on, baby, pleasepleaseplease.." he gasps out, his shaky hands finding your waist and squeezing it. you playfully tut at him, taking his hands off your waist much to his dismay; a quiet cry leaves him when you instead place his hands on your breasts. "gotta take it slow, sweetheart. don't want you cumming just yet." you say with a hum, reaching back to lead his cock to your entrance.

the two of you moan in unison when his tip pushes just past your folds, staying like that as he throws his head back against the pillows with a loud moan. his face is flushed red with lust, lips slick with spit as he tries to stop himself from drooling at your heat around his tip. "don't be shy, honey, i want to hear alll your sounds." you giggle as you finally lower your hips with a long moan, sanji unable to hold back the embarrassing cry of a curse that leaves him. his hips buck up into you on instinct, another whine leaving him when you push his hips down with one hand. "let me take care of you, handsome. you already help me so much." you say, lifting your hips again; you bite your lip to hide the growing smile on your face when you don't lower your hips, relishing in the desperate look in sanji's eyes. "pleasepleasepleasepleaseohgodspleasebabyplease"

you pick up the pace of your hips as you lean forward enough for sanji to force you further down, groaning as he buries his face in your breasts; had this been any other moment, you would have laughed but sanji's eagerness even for his first time only turned you on even more. "such a good boy, puppy, so so good." you whine softly as he squeezes your breasts further against his face. without warning, he starts to buck his hips up into yours in a way that sends a chill up your spine, setting a fast, steady pace that makes a choked moan leave you. he babbles strings of praise to you and what you think is an apology; "feelsofuckinggood, 'm sorry.." he whines as his hands find your ass and squeeze it, using it as a way to lower your hips to meet his.

way too soon for sanji, he feels himself getting close and he can already tell it's going to hit him hard. "b-baby, 'm soclose, please, w-wanna cum inside.." he pants heavily, looking up at you with this look that makes you let out a small whine: how can you possibly refuse him when he's looking at you like you are god herself? "let it allll out, honey, give it all to me." you whine as you start to move your hips to meet his, feeling your own release coming. sanji's sounds only grow louder and more pathetic with every stroke inside of you, calling out your name like a mantra. it isn't long until sanji finally cums, letting out a loud, low groan as his hips speed up into an almost impossible pace much to your pleasure. he goes limp against the bed as you ride out your own high, head tipped back and soft gasps slipping out of you as you milk sanji for all he's worth.

im ngl to yall, i finished this at almost 2:00 am so sorry if anything sounds weird LMFOAM

Choose a Side

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (4/?)

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

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

Warnings: fluff, banter, grumpy!Tim

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

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

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

“Hey!” Lucy calls behind you.

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

“Is Tim with you?” she asks.

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

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

“Okay,” you drawl. “What’s up?”

“So, I’m going on a date tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What date?”

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

“I’m cheating on you?” you try.

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

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

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

“You were a soldier,” you point out.

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

“Tim," you warn.

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

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

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

“Does that matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim shakes his head before he turns to face Lucy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t look into him,” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know, Tim. Why does it?”

Tim grumbles as he takes his phone from your hand.

“I love you,” you call after him.

“Not as much as Alex, apparently.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was the date?” Tim asks.

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

“Sorry, Lucy,” you interject.

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

“That’s what I said,” Tim defends.

“But he wasn’t.”

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

“You’ve met him?!” Tim asks loudly.

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

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

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

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

“Your home or mine?”

“You’re not spending the night.”

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

“How was it?” you ask Lucy.

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

“When?” Tim asks.

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

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

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

“Say what?”

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

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

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

“Wait, what movie?” Lucy asks excitedly.

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

A Daughter Who's a Boot

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (3/?)

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

Summary: Tim interrupts your dinner date with Lucy with a cryptic call that leaves you concerned. Lucy stays beside you and you remind Tim that she's important to both of you (and that he cares about her, even if he won't admit it).

Warnings: mention/depiction of domestic terrorism, banter, fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your phone buzzes with a text from Tim while you watch for Lucy. Tonight’s dinner date with Lucy has been planned for weeks, but Tim seemed reluctant to let you go. Whether his sudden borderline clinginess was because you’re spending time with Lucy instead of him or something more, you’re unsure. Regardless of the reason he’s texting, you promise to let him know when you’re on your way home and encourage him to enjoy his time alone. Since you married Tim, he’s grown used to you being around, but you thought he would enjoy a night to himself. It seems you were wrong.

The restaurant door opens again while you place your phone back in your bag. You look up quickly and wave to Lucy, whose smile grows as she rushes to your table.

“I ordered your favorite drink,” you say as she sits across the table.

“Thanks, Mom!” she replies, still smiling.

“Someone is going to think you’re serious and have some intense judgements about me,” you scold playfully.

“How was your day?” Lucy asks, ignoring your faux protest.

“It was pretty good. I’m more interested in how yours was.”

“Busy, but fine. I’ve been counting down the seconds to this dinner, though.”

“We should do it more often.”

“Like your husband would allow that,” Lucy scoffs. “He’s so jealous of me and how much time we spend together.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Tim cares about Lucy just as much as you do, but he has a very different way of showing it. Lucy knows that, but she enjoys teasing him and trying to get under his skin. After the waiter approaches and takes your order, he turns to Lucy. Your phone lights up in your bag, and you politely excuse yourself before you look down to check it. There’s a missed call from Tim that went to voicemail less than a minute ago.

“Tim?” Lucy guesses as the waiter leaves.

“Yeah,” you say, furrowing your brows. “He knows we’re busy.”

Your phone rings again, and this time you answer it immediately.

“Tim?” you ask as the call connects.

“I need you to come home. Now,” Tim says before your phone beeps.

You pull the phone away from your ear, and when a text comes through from Angela, you know Tim is serious.

“I have to go, Lucy. I’m so sorry,” you explain as you gather your things.

“I’m coming with you,” Lucy offers.

“No, Luce-“

“You’re rattled, and now I’m worried too. So, I’m coming with you.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

You leave some cash on the table for your waiter and tell the hostess there’s an emergency as you rush past the greeting stand. Your mind races with what could be this urgent, but you resolve to remain calm and composed as you race to get home.

Lucy walks into your home behind you and nearly runs into you when you stop suddenly. She peeks over your shoulder and sees a map covering your dining table. Tim and Angela are leaning over it, marking seemingly random locations with bright red dots.

Tim looks up, and when he sees Lucy, he tells you, “I told you to come home, not Lucy.”

Lucy opens her mouth to apologize, but you speak before she can.

“Tim, you said to get home and then hung up on me. You should know that she wouldn’t let me leave alone after that. She’s worried, too, so either we both stay, or we both go,” you respond.

Angela gives Tim a that’s your wife look before he sighs and steps toward you. When Tim lifts his arms, you willingly move toward him and let him wrap you in a hug. He apologizes against your shoulder as he rubs a warm hand along your spine.

“So,” you begin as you step out of the hug. “What was the cryptic call about?”

“Interesting question,” Angela muses. “We have enough reason to believe someone is planning a huge attack on downtown LA. Like, they want to level it huge. But we don’t actually have enough evidence to get the FBI involved or do anything about it.”

“Not yet,” Tim adds, glancing at you.

“Of course,” you agree without being asked. “Tell me what to do.”

“Us,” Lucy corrects, stepping to your side. “Tell us what to do.”

“The locations marked in red have the most foot traffic, we think those would be easy targets because no one would be able to see anything,” Tim explains.

“But that doesn’t take into account rooftops, abandoned buildings, flight paths, anything that wouldn’t rely on a diversion,” you deduce.

“Right,” Angela agrees. “But we have a notebook in evidence with some details. Techs are trying to piece it together but they’re not making any progress.”

“Do you have pictures of the notes?” Lucy asks.

“Of course we do, boot. We’re not incompetent, just behind,” Tim answers as he passes a tablet to Lucy.

“Thanks, Dad,” she replies as she scrolls through the pictures.

“Hey, Angela,” you call, ignoring Lucy and Tim bickering behind you. “Can you pass me that stool?”

She nods and brings a stool from your kitchen island to your side. You position it beside the table before you climb to stand atop it.

“Don’t-“ Tim begins, but you’re already up. He sighs as he walks past Lucy and places a hand on the back of your thigh to keep you steady.

You rise to your tiptoes, aware of Tim’s hand pressing against your leg to reassure himself just as much as you, and snap a picture of the map from above. Tim takes your hand as you jump down and examine the angle you photographed.

“Am I seeing things or do the red marks spell something?” you ask, passing your phone to Angela.

You squeeze Tim’s hand, which is still wrapped around yours.

“I can see two letters,” Angela cheers. “D, something, T.”

“A dot,” Lucy fills in, zooming in on a scanned page from the notebook. “It’s marked on a map, looks like 100 Main Street… is that a real address?”

“It’s not a dot, it’s DOT!” you exclaim. “Department of Transportation, D-O-T. Caltrans has a headquarters on South Main, downtown.”

“It wasn’t going to start multi-target,” Tim realizes.

“If they can hit Caltrans, they can take out more than downtown, they can take out all of Los Angeles,” Angela adds.

“I thought traffic was bad now,” you murmur as you join Lucy’s side to view the mastermind’s notes.

“I’m going to alert Caltrans, LADOT, DHS, and anyone else I can get in touch with,” Angela says as she picks up her phone. “Thank you so much for your help. Sorry, I ruined dinner.”

“Tim ruined dinner,” Lucy corrects.

“I’m okay with shifting the blame to him. I’ll see all of you at work.”

“Bye, Ange,” you call after her. You tilt your head to look at Tim while Lucy continues scrolling through evidence pictures.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Seriously?!” you ask incredulously. “You scared me. Calling twice in a row, telling me to get home, and then hanging up on me is not okay.”

Tim nods, seeing just how upset you still are. All because he worried you. The last time you were stressed because of someone close to you was when Lucy accidentally lured a former convict to her apartment. Now, it’s completely Tim’s fault that you feel this way, and he knows he could have gone about it differently. Tim pulls you into his arms and apologizes again before promising never to worry you like that again. It’s not necessarily a promise he can keep, but you know he’ll try. You nod against his chest and wrap your arms tighter around his waist.

“Hey, maybe I’m worried about you too, Dad,” Lucy interrupts. “Can I get in on the hug?”

“No,” Tim answers shortly. “But thank you for coming.”

“No problem.” Lucy smiles at you and says, “Goodnight, Mom. Call if you need a break from him.”

“Goodnight, Lucy. Thanks for everything,” you reply. You release Tim to hug Lucy before she leaves.

When she returns the hug, Lucy whispers, “Is Tim a good hugger?”

“No,” you lie quietly. “He’s the worst.”

“I knew it.”

Lucy leaves, and when your front door closes behind her, you turn to Tim, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“If I’m such a bad hugger, you can live without another one,” he says.

“We may fight all the time, but you need me, Bradford,” you reply.

Tim stares into your eyes before he pulls you roughly into his arms and kisses your forehead.

“Hey, since you interrupted my dinner with Lucy, I’m crashing your breakfast with her next week,” you threaten lightly.

“I’m ditching her,” Tim replies. “Breakfast with you sounds a whole lot better.”

“She’s our daughter, Tim, you’re gonna have to learn to get along with her eventually.”

Tim pulls back and cups your face before he explains, “She’s a boot, not a daughter. Keep that straight.”

“Sure,” you agree. “Just remember that next time she’s in danger and you call me panicking.”

Tim releases you and steps back dramatically as he accuses, “Traitor. Kojo, let’s go somewhere we’re appreciated.”

Hearing his name, Kojo trots into the room with you and sits beside your feet. He looks up at you and wiggles happily as you reach down to pet him.

“You’re outnumbered, Bradford,” you remind Tim. “And you love us.”

Tim returns to your side and distracts you from Kojo as he kisses you. “I do love you,” he says against your lips. “Remember that.”

Aftershock

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

part 1

Tim Bradford x younger!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You’re a bold, confident civil engineering student, used to taking control on construction sites. But when an earthquake hits while you're in charge of your father’s site, you meet LAPD Sergeant Tim Bradford. You clash, you work together, and slowly, something deeper begins to spark.

A/N: I have the second part almost ready so it'll be here soon!! Also is you have some ideas for this mini series, feel free to drop it in my box! Feedback is always appreciated!! I hope you like it! Lots of love, bubs! Stay safe! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Warnings: Earthquake/emergency scenario, mild injury, panic attack (comfort follows), age gap, not proofread

Word Count: 4k+

It starts like a whisper—barely-there tremors under your steel-toes as you walk the perimeter of the new mixed-use high-rise downtown. You've spent the last half-hour barking into your phone, coordinating crane placement and checking load-bearing support numbers. You’re dusty, focused, and completely in your element.

Until the earth moves for real.

You don’t hear it before you feel it. The tremor roars upward through your boots like a live wire. The scaffolding groans. A metallic shriek pierces the air. Then it happens.

The world shudders. A cacophony of screams. Cement rains down. You drop to your knees and roll, instincts kicking in, sheltering beneath a shipping container propped on steel beams.

Earthquake.

It only lasts seconds—long ones—but the aftermath feels like a war zone. You crawl out coughing, your lungs filling with grit and fear, but your brain is firing on pure adrenaline. You're not just some student or supervisor. You’re the boss’s daughter. And he’s out of town, which makes this your site.

Your chest heaves, but your eyes are already scanning. Where's the crew? Who’s accounted for?

“Luis!” you shout, dodging fallen equipment. “Jen! Mateo!”

Two workers emerge from a cloud of dust, one limping, another coughing blood into his glove. You guide them to the open lot beyond the scaffolding, mentally mapping the layout. Six missing. Maybe more.

And then, over the scream of sirens, two figures cut through the dust—uniformed.

The man in front moves like he was born in boots. Tall, broad shoulders, determined jaw. There’s something sharp and no-nonsense about him, like he’s the human equivalent of a battering ram. Behind him, a quick-footed brunette surveys the site with wide, alert eyes.

“LAPD!” the man shouts. “Is anyone hurt?”

“I’m fine!” you yell back over the noise. “There are still people inside!”

He reaches you in seconds. “You need to move—this whole site could still collapse.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you snap. “This is my father’s project. He’s out of town. I’m responsible for everyone here.”

“Name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n. Civil engineering student. Site lead for the day.”

“Sergeant Tim Bradford,” he grunts, scanning you. “This is Officer Lucy Chen.”

Chen gives a small nod and immediately moves to triage the injured worker. Bradford, however, keeps his full attention on you.

You don’t miss the way his eyes rake over you—not in a creepy way. He’s taking stock. Assessing damage. Dirt on your face, small gash on your arm. His brows tighten.

“You were inside?”

“Under that scaffolding.”

“You shouldn’t be standing.”

You fold your arms. “Well, I am.”

“You need to let us handle this.”

“No. I know this site better than anyone. I helped design the layout. There’s a crawlspace beneath the west scaffolding that no one else knows about. If anyone’s still in there—”

“You’re not trained for rescue ops.”

“I’m trained to know what’s safe and what’s about to fall on your head.”

His jaw ticks. “I don’t have time to babysit you.”

“Then don’t. Keep up.”

You step past him, and for a beat, he just stares.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “You’re like if a Barbie Doll had a death wish.”

You toss him a grin over your shoulder. “Grumpy and unoriginal. Cute.”

He follows, grumbling something under his breath about stubborn civilians and lawsuits.

The two of you reach the compromised scaffold, and you crouch beside the twisted beams. Bradford stops behind you, way closer than necessary.

“Let me go first,” he says, voice low, eyes scanning overhead.

“I’ll fit through easier. You’re built like a linebacker.”

You feel his breath on the back of your neck as he leans down.

“And you think I’m letting you crawl into a death trap alone?”

You glance at him, only inches away. “So you do care.”

He doesn’t move.

“Protocol,” he says stiffly. “And… you’re bleeding.”

You look down at the gash on your forearm—dirt-caked but shallow.

“Didn’t notice.”

“I did.”

He steps forward and gently takes your wrist. His touch is unexpectedly careful—rough hands, but soft grip. He pulls a cloth from his vest and dabs at the wound. You watch his face as he works. He’s so serious. So guarded.

“I’m going in first,” he says, not giving you a chance to argue.

You don’t push it this time. He’s trying. In his own way.

You both drop into the crawlspace, the air thick with dust and heat. Your shoulder brushes his arm as you squeeze through. Close. Too close.

You hear it before you see it—a cough. Faint, raspy.

“There,” you whisper. “Under that beam.”

Bradford nods. “Stay low.”

The man’s pinned, conscious but trapped under a slab of drywall and steel piping. You approach carefully, testing for weight, and give Tim a look.

“If we shift the load here, I can drag him out.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

His hand grazes your back as he shifts to position. Again, he’s close. Protective. Your skin sparks where his fingers press.

He moves the slab, and you reach under, tugging the worker free with all your strength. It takes effort. You grunt, digging your heels into the ground. Bradford leans forward, adds his strength behind yours. The worker slides out.

You sit back, panting.

“You okay?” Tim asks, wiping sweat from his temple.

You nod, heart pounding—not just from the rescue. From him. From the way his hand didn’t quite leave your lower back.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Thanks.”

He meets your eyes. For a second, everything around you disappears.

And then his radio crackles. “Bradford, update?”

“We got one out,” he replies. “Sending location for medical. Continuing sweep.”

As you crawl back out, he places a steadying hand at your waist, guiding you up the incline. You feel the heat of it even through your shirt. It lingers. He doesn’t rush the touch. Neither do you.

Once you’re out, the EMTs swarm. The worker is taken. Chen updates the map with accounted-for crew.

You press your hands to your thighs, catching your breath.

“How many are left?” Tim asks.

You scan your clipboard. “Two. Maybe three. Could be hiding in the south exit shaft.”

“Is it stable?”

You pause. “Barely. But I can get us in.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re not invincible, Barbie.”

“And you’re not my boss, Grinch.”

He exhales hard. “Fine. But I go first this time. You stay on my six.”

“Yes, sir.”

He gives you a look. You wink.

You both make your way through the wreckage, ducking twisted rebar and beams. At one point, you trip on a loose plank. His arm shoots out, wraps around your waist.

You freeze.

So does he.

You’re chest to chest, his hand splayed across your back, your fingers gripping his vest.

“You okay?” he asks, voice a touch lower now.

Your throat’s dry. “Yeah. You?”

He doesn’t answer. Just watches you for a moment, then slowly lets you go.

You keep moving, but now every time your fingers graze or your arms brush, it feels intentional. Loaded.

You find the last two workers behind a jammed gate. Tim breaks the lock with a metal pipe, and you help the shaken men out. One thanks you. The other looks at you like you’re a superhero.

But the adrenaline has started to fade.

The full weight of it all—the noise, the near-deaths, the responsibility—presses down.

When you step away from the others, your legs buckle just a little. Bradford is there instantly.

“Sit,” he says, catching you by the arm.

You nod slowly, dropping onto a low wall.

He crouches beside you, reading your face. “It’s catching up to you.”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

“You held it together. You did everything right.”

Your breath hitches. “I didn’t… I didn’t think. I just moved. But what if I missed someone? What if—”

“Stop.”

His voice is gentle but firm. He places his hand on your knee. You flinch—but not from fear. From how it grounds you.

“Look at me.”

You do.

“You saved people. You helped us. You didn’t hide. You ran toward the danger.”

Your lip quivers.

His hand slides to your shoulder. His thumb strokes your collarbone, just once.

“You’re allowed to feel it now.”

And that’s all it takes. The panic hits like a wave—hard and fast. Your chest clenches, eyes burning.

Tim doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you. You bury your face in his shoulder, fists curling in his vest.

“It’s over,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re safe.”

His hand slides into your hair, combing gently through it. The motion is soothing. Familiar. Like he’s done it before. Or maybe just dreamed of it.

“You don’t have to be strong right now.”

You tremble in his hold. He doesn’t pull away.

“I’ve got you,” he adds. “Okay?”

You nod against him. When you finally look up, his hand lingers on your cheek.

“Didn’t think you’d be the nurturing type." you say, voice hoarse.

He chuckles, voice rumbling in his chest. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my brand.”

You lean back just enough to see his face.

And something shifts between you.

A quiet moment in the eye of the storm.

“I still think ‘Grinch’ suits you,” you whisper.

“And I still think you’re high-maintenance.”

“Excuse me?”

“Only a Barbie Doll would coordinate a rescue effort and sass a cop in the same breath.”

You smirk. “Maybe I’m both.”

The moment stretches. You’re both still, holding onto something neither of you fully understands yet.

Then a shout breaks the spell.

“Y/n!”

You turn. “Dad!”

Your father is running across the rubble-strewn pavement, suit jacket flapping, eyes wild.

You stand, and he pulls you into a crushing hug.

“I’m fine,” you gasp. “We’re all fine.”

He cups your face. “I got the alert mid-meeting and left immediately.”

You hug him tighter. “I had to take charge.”

“And you did,” he whispers. “I’m proud of you.”

You feel a shift behind you. Turning, you find Tim standing quietly, watching the scene with a measured expression. Your dad notices him too.

“You,” he says, crossing over. “You pulled her out.”

“Sergeant Bradford,” Tim replies, shaking his hand firmly. “Just doing my job, sir.”

Bradford looks at you. And he gets it.

You’re not just another young woman on-site. You’re his daughter. His pride. His heart. And you’re damn good at what you do.

Daddy’s princess—with steel in your spine.

He watches you hug your dad again, whisper something that makes the older man smile. And Tim’s jaw tightens, just slightly.

Lucy appears beside him, sipping water.

“She’s a powerhouse,” she says.

“Yeah,” Tim replies, watching you like he can’t look away. “She is.”

“You gonna ask for her number?”

He snorts. “She’d probably write it on an OSHA citation and tell me to lighten up.”

“You could use someone who challenges you.” his rookie shrugs.

Tim glances back at you—still in that vest, still a little scraped up, but glowing with that post-adrenaline shine.

Maybe he could.

Giving Zoro Head On The Ship Deck 18+

Aka- Getting dick on the deck

Imagine the crew docking to boat at the nearest island and going into town. Leaving Zoro and You alone. It had always been a fantasy of yours to have sex on the deck. The thrill of someone possibly seeing you. But your mind is consumed with the need to pleasure him. Tears dripping down your face. Saliva dripping down your chin.

He would periodically stroke your cheek while praising you on how well you take him. The feeling of pride takes of you when he’s so overwhelmed with pleasure all he can do is throw his head back and moan. Even when he dose finally release into your mouth you don’t stop until he has nothing left to give.

Pulling off of him and sitting up all you could do was aww at how beautiful he looked is this moment. The usual composed and tough man was almost like putty in your hands. His cheeks flushed and sheen of sweat was on his face and chest.

As he was about to gently push you onto your back to return the favor. You both heard Luffy loudly asking Sanji, “what and when they were having dinner.” because he was starving. Even though he just ate so much meat in town not even ten minutes ago.

So Zoro had to compromise and tell you to meet him later that night so he can show how much he appreciated you. Safe to say you wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep that night.

Authors note:

By the way this is a really shitty pic I just took photos off of Pinterest and mashed them together.

Also this is my first time writing. Please be some what nice.

Thanks for reading.

what about this: reader is on what they thought was an innocent facetime call with andrew garfield spider-man but it turns out he's 'secretly' been jacking off 🙊🙊

contrary to popular belief, I do indeed respond to my asks 😋

nah, but actual, lovely request, and I’ve been thinking about this one for a while, soo hope you like it ♥️

Keep Going…

(andrew) peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: male and female masturbation, phone sex, squirting, that’s like it

“And get this, he spilled coffee on me then yelled at me for trying to leave to clean it up.” She rambled on, lying on her left side as she spoke to her boyfriend.

“Pete? You listening to me?” She muttered, flipping around to lay on her stomach, holding her phone under her.

“Mhm, always do, sweetheart.” She heard his out of breath voice from her phone, furrowing her brows at the sound of it.

“You okay, Pete? You don’t sound too well.” She spoke worriedly.

Suddenly he moved the phone to in front of his face, which was flushed red. “I’m fine, babe. Promise.”

“You don’t look well, either. Are you sick?” She groaned. “I told you just because you’re Spider-Man doesn’t mean you can be out late at night during winter when it’s raining-“

“I-I’m not sick, baby.” He shook his head, his fluffy hair bouncing.

“Well, what’s wrong with you?” She asked, pouting slightly.

“Nothin’. Nothin’s wrong.” He shook his head again making her huff and bury her head into her pillow.

“Hey, hey, baby. Don’t stop talking, ‘kay? Keep going.” He mumbled, his voice sounding slurred, and when she looked back at her phone only his neck was visible due to his head being thrown back.

“Pete.” She whined and she heard him mutter ‘fuck’ under his breath. “What’s wrong?”

He groaned, chewing on his bottom lip before he looked back at the screen, his brown eyes hazy.

“You sure you wanna know?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

She nodded enthusiastically, attentively looking at her phone screen.

He swallowed harshly before moving his phone down to around hip level.

Her jaw dropped as she saw his veiny hand wrapped around the base of his dick pop up on her screen.

“Pete.” She muttered breathlessly.

“Shit- yeah, Princess?” He groaned loudly, her eyes going wide when she saw his hand start to move up and down, his thumb running over the tip of his dick.

“You- you’re jerking off.” She whispered, trying to pull her eyes away from the sight but she couldn’t.

“Mhm. To the sound of your voice, baby. Been too long since I’ve had you wrapped around me.” He groaned out, a bead of pearly precum dribbling down the length of his cock.

“Pete.. have- have you done this before?” She whispered, holding back the urge to slide a hand down and into her pyjama shorts.

“Mhm” he groaned out, his hand moving even faster. “That okay, babe?”

She whimpered, hearing the loud squelching of his hand around his dick and watching as the tip of his cock got redder and the veins got more prominent. “Yeah.. yeah, it’s okay.” She whispered out, her mouth salivating.

His pearly teeth bit into his pink bottom lip. “Baby, touch yourself. You know you want to.” He spoke lowly, his hips thrusting into his fist.

She whimpered and nodded, moving the camera down to hip level, just like how he has it, and wiggled her pyjama shorts off, leaving her in an oversized shirt (that belonged to Peter) and light pink panties that had a dark patch at her entrance.

He groaned, seeing the wet patch on her panties, his hand moving even faster around his dick. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet."

"All for you." She whined out, propping her phone up with a pillow so the could use both hands to pull her panties down, throwing them somewhere in the room.

"Shit, look at that. Fuckin' cunt fluttering around nothing, huh? Bet you want my cock, right?" He spoke lowly, taking his hand off his dick to lightly roll his balls in his hand, staving off his impeding orgasm.

She whined, nodding her head and running her index finger through her folds, tracing her slit as her arousal practically dripped down onto her bedding.

"Stick a finger inside your pretty pussy for me, yeah?" He grumbled, his hand wrapping back around his dick.

She whimpered and followed his orders, circling her entrance with her middle finger before easing inside of her, a sharp moan escaping her lips.

“There ya go.” He groaned, his eyes fixed on her finger as it disappeared inside of her pussy, his hand movements speeding up.

She whined, curling her finger up inside of her, her other hand playing with her clit.

“That’s its princess. Keep fucking yourself. Imagine it’s me, yeah? Stick another finger inside your pretty cunt, baby.” He groaned out, his hips bucking up to meet the movements of his hand.

She whimpered, moving her ring finger to join her middle finger in her movements inside of her.

His voice faded out in her ears as the white hot pleasure built in her lower stomach.

“Pete- Petey!” She whined out, her eyebrows furrowing.

“What? You’re gonna cum already? Fuck, desperate, aren’t you?” He groaned, tilting his head back for a second before looking back at his phone screen.

“Mhm!” She whined, feeling her arousal drip down her ass cheeks and onto the her sheets even more.

“Fuck, yeah, cum for me, baby. Gush around those fingers.” He grumbled, feeling his thighs tense as his own orgasm approached.

She whimpered, her fingers rubbing her clit faster as her legs shook and she threw her head back into the pillows, a large gush of liquid exiting her body and a shaky moan exiting her body.

He groaned in response, biting his lip as the camera on her end got blurry, her squirt covering her phone. His hand tightened around the base of his cock as he also came, closing his eyes as his cum covered his stomach, chest, and hand.

She whimpered, taking her fingers out of her pussy and looking at her phone, her eyes widening as she used her (his) shirt to wipe off her phone screen so it wasn’t covered in her squirt anymore.

“So, baby, what happened after your boss yelled at you?” He asked lazily, bringing his phone back up to his flushed face, staring at her through the phone.

i never know how to end these ahh

Lonely Christmas

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄 | requested here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army vet!cop!reader

Summary: During a Christmas Eve night shift with Tim Bradford, you glimpse what is behind his tough exterior.

Warnings/Word Count: vague depictions of veteran-specific depression, brief angst, Tim yells at r, fluff and comfort. 1.1k+ words

A/N: This is a dynamic (Tim with a partner who was also in the Army) that I've had on my mind for a while. While this is a really fast-paced blurb-like fic specific to Christmas, I'd really love to write more of this pairing if anyone is interested. Sorry for the short length but I really wanted to get it done before Christmas Eve🫶🏼

Working the night shift on Christmas Eve feels like the opposite of a Christmas miracle. The long night is made worse when you’re partnered with Tim Bradford. He’s had something against you since you joined the department after leaving the Army. Though you’ve never spent more than a few hours with Mid-Wilshire’s grumpiest officer, you know he doesn’t like you, so you decide to stay quiet and obedient to make Santa’s job – and your own – a little easier tonight.

“Merry Christmas,” you greet as you enter the passenger seat of Tim’s shop.

Tim huffs, and you set a small treat bag of cookies from a nearby bakery in the console without a word.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Is Christmas Eve usually hectic?” you inquire.

“Depends on the year. Based on the last few weeks, I’d say it’ll keep us busy.”

You nod, then inquire, “Any plans for Christmas tomorrow?”

“Nope. Heads up, grey Challenger.”

“I’ll run the plate,” you offer, secretly wishing you were in a sleigh rather than a shop.

“VA Hospital reported a disturbance,” dispatch radios. “Two armed men forced their way into a room and have barricaded themselves in with equipment.”

“Responding,” Tim replies. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” you inquire softly.

“Try to twist this into some merry Christmas thing. We’re vets, we know there are plenty of people like us spending the holidays alone, grieving for those we’ve lost, and I don’t need you to make this specific slice of reality any harder than it already is,” Tim snaps. “So, let’s deal with this call like it’s not Christmas and move on.”

As your shift comes to an end, with the brutal reminder that lonely people go to extremes even during the holidays and several emotional bruises from Tim snapping at you more than often, you try to remind him that he is not alone. Over the last few years, you’ve learned to take Tim’s attitude and swings from helpful superior to the short-tempered Bradford the station knows him as in stride.

Walking through the station to return to your lonely home, you’re surprised to hear Tim call your name. You turn to face him, and he pulls his backpack strap tighter against his shoulder. It’s nearing midnight, almost Christmas, and you’re expecting one more reprimand to conclude the all-but-perfect night shift.

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” he offers. “My sister dropped off a casserole this afternoon.”

“Dinner at midnight?” you clarify with a grin. “I’d love to. Only if you’re sure, I don’t want to impose on you on Christmas.”

“I’m free for the next few hours.”

You follow Tim out of the station and tip your head in thanks after he opens the passenger door of his truck for you. The ride to his house is quiet, only the low humming of instrumental Christmas music filling the space as Tim navigates the quiet (for once) streets of Los Angeles.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” you ask as you enter his home.

“Going to visit my sister and nephews for lunch and gifts,” he replies. “You?”

“I’ve got a few people to see.”

Tim nods and begins preparing the food. You start to speak simultaneously, and your expression of gratitude is cut short when you smile. “Go ahead,” you murmur.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” Tim begins. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you about the vet in the hospital. It just… it reminded me of one of the guys in my last unit. Seeing people like us struggling around the holidays is hard, but you know that, and I had no excuse to yell at you like that. So, I’m sorry.”

“I do know that, but I can also understand that your response is valid. I probably would have overstepped, and honestly I’d rather you yell at me before I can do something that pushes you away rather than letting me do it and suffer the consequences.”

Tim’s brows pinch as he asks, “And what do you think the consequences would be?”

“Let’s just say I would hate to end up on the Bradford Naughty List.”

Tim’s face shifts into a smile as he shakes his head, and you grin at him before offering to get plates for dinner.

Something shifts beneath your cheek, pulling you from a peaceful slumber. You don’t sleep well most nights, and for a moment, you think Christmas magic lulled you to sleep. Then you realize that the fabric under your face looks awfully familiar. Sitting up, you press your lips together as you watch Tim blink and look at you. You remember eating dinner side-by-side and watching a rerun of It’s a Wonderful Life. You had no intention of falling asleep together, or in his house, for that matter.

“You look your cutest like this,” Tim rumbles, his voice thick with sleep and concerningly unfiltered.

“But I just woke up,” you argue.

Tim nods, his full attention on you, and states, “I know what I said.”

“I- I should probably go. You have your family to visit. Merry Christmas, Tim, and thanks again for dinner.”

While you gather your things, Tim watches your movements from the couch.

“Why do you care so much?” he asks.

“About what?” you ask, looking up from your bag.

“Me, people… You tried to make last night feel like Christmas. Why?”

You shrug. “Everyone deserves some magic, and there’s no better time than Christmas. And, as for you… I have an idea of what it’s like. I do know that it’s not easy, and though I can’t imagine what you’ve dealt with specifically, you haven’t let it keep you from seeing the good in people. Even if you don’t let on that you do.”

“I see the bad too.”

“Job hazard. Despite seeing that bad side, you still let people close. That’s why I care about you, because you’re a good person.” Tim opens his mouth again, and you add, “That last point was objective, it’s not up for debate.”

“Do you want to stay?” Tim asks after a moment. “You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, either.”

“Your family,” you remind him.

“I’m sure they have an extra plate,” Tim teases.

You gesture to your outfit and slept-on hair, but Tim stands and lays his hands on your shoulders.

“I already said you look your cutest like this.”

“Thought you were incoherent and half-asleep.”

“But don’t I see the good in people?”

Your head falls back as you groan. Tim offers to drive you home to let you get ready, and you realize that you wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with him and his family. Even if he yells at you and calls you cute mere hours apart. It’s part of his Tim Bradford charm.

Not So Grumpy

Requested Here!

Edit: Read Part 2 Here >

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

Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.

Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.

“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.

“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”

“That sounds like starting.”

Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”

Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.

“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.

“No.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.

“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.

“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”

He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.

“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.

Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.

“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.

“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.

“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”

“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”

Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.

“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”

“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”

You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”

“I can’t. I can only think of you.”

“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”

Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.

“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”

“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”

You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.

“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.

Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.

“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.

“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.

“But I-“

“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”

“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”

“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.

“What’s the protocol for this?”

Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.

After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.

As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”

He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.

You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.

“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.

Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.

“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.

Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.

You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.

“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.

“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.

“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”

“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”

Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.

“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”

“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”

“Just because you won’t introduce me.”

“For good reason.”

You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.

“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.

“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”

“And you won’t,” he promises.

“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.

Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.

“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers. 

As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.

“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.

Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.

“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.

“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.

“My wife,” Tim mutters.

“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.

Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were friends.”

“What gave you that impression?”

Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.

“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.

He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.

“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.

“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.

“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.

“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.

“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.

Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.

“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”

“I love you,” Tim answers.

His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.

You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger. 

“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.

Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.

“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”

“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.

Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.

“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”

“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.