| Dalisia | 23 | ♋ | INFJ | "All that is gold does not glitter; not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither; deep roots are not reached by the frost."
ahhhh finally the weekend is beautiful and wide open ahead of me. surely this will be the weekend I finally get my whole life in order and do the twenty-seven things I've been putting off and fix my sleep schedule and make memories with friends and discover my purpose in this world. surely
I'm lonely but I'm good. I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine. I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life and I'll get lost on purpose. this place made me feel worthless
The one where you return home and Tim waits for you all these years.
To protect and to love
The one where you unintentionally make Tim jealous and it ends up with nothing good but a confession.
Stolen moments
The one where you and Tim can't have a moment for yourselves.
Secret signals
The one where you didn't know your best friend feels the same way about you.
A night to remember (Secret signals pt. 2)
The one where you find out your best friend feels the same way about you.
She's my wife
The one where Lucy finds out you are Tim's wife.
She's my wife (part 2) (coming soon)
The one where everyone finds out it's not the right thing to mess with Tim's pregnant wife.
Lost and found
The one where Tim confessed during a nearly-dead experience.
Breaking boundaries
The one where you are Sergeant Grey's daughter and dating Tim.
Long sleeves
The one where Tim is replacing your TO for the day and he doesn't hesitate to give you a hard time. But in the end it's worth it.
Rays of hope
The one where your son is kidnapped and you and your husband, Tim, do everything you can to get him back.
Broken Blue
The one where you and Tim fight, leaving him after his words are too harsh. Despite his attempts to make things better, your stubbornness wins until an accident forces you to realise you need Tim and love him, more than you want to admit.
Let me fix this
The one where you meet Tim again on his first day at Metro, two years after he broke up with you.
Matchmaking
The one where you and Tim turn everything into a competition, including hiding your feelings.
Puppy
The one where you visit Tim at the station and you are way too nice to a teenager he just arrested.
Fire and fight (Buckley!reader)
The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.
Series
The rules are made to be broken Series (18+)
The rules are made to be broken
The one where you and Tim are friends with benefits and establish 7 rules for your special friendship.
One rule down
The one where Tim breaks one rule after you got hurt on a call.
Three rules down (coming soon)
The one where you break two more rules after you meet someone at the bar.
Five rules down (coming soon)
The one where you and Tim break two more rules when you got caught after an intense shower at the station.
Six rules down (coming soon)
The one where you and Tim break one more rule after catching feelings for each other.
One rule standing (coming soon)
The one where you and Tim manage to keep one of the 7 rules.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue Series
Something old
The one where you and Tim have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but that friendship tore apart when you caught feelings for him and Tim tells you he wants to propose to Lucy.
Something new
The one where Tim's confession about his feelings for you changed everything and made room for something new between you.
Something borrowed (coming soon)
The one where you are there for Tim when he needs you the most and he borrows you his favourite LAPD t-shirt.
Something blue (coming soon)
The one where you and Tim have an official first date and you gift each other something blue to shield your relationship from harm.
Crossovers
The Rookie x 911
Under the radar (Buck x Bradford!reader)
The one where your brother, Tim, finds out you're dating Buck in a not so pleasant way.
Diamonds and dreams (Tim x Buckley!reader)
The one where Tim, your boyfriend, teams up with your brother Buck and plan a proposal.
Fire and Fight ( Tim x Buckley!reader)
The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.
SUMMARY: you're struggling to study a specific topic for your P2 training exam. luckily, your TO knows exactly how to teach you- in his own special way, of course.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: the feedback on my recent fanfics has been UNREALLLL thank you for the support! i have been having so much fun writing these for you honestly slay for us. i need to be y/n SO BAD in this GUYS PLEASE IM SO SERIOUS. the reader is tim's rookie if you couldn't tell lol. please enjoy and give feedback AHHHH xoxo
INCLUDES: dirty talk (HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT AHH), pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it up chickies), PRAISE PRAISE PRAISE, soft dom!tim, sub!reader, mentions of anxieties (more like stress-of-not-passing-an-exam type of anxiety), desk sex
WORDS: 11.2K+
Amidst the peaceful night where the stars twinkle ever so luringly and the wind whispers gently against your window, the chaos within your apartment differs.
Stacks of paper and books are sprawled across your desk and the floor surrounding you- reflecting the mess of your mind and your feelings of stress, frustration, annoyance. The thin white sheets have already begun to threaten you with paper cuts after hours of flicking through the corners of each page.
You’ve contemplated burning these books and papers into your colourful candles that stare at you from across your desk- they, too, are not neat from where they stand. But, you suppose that having them accentuate their flames may entice you to keep studying.
You tried to create a peaceful scene to your otherwise booming stressful emotions. You tried.
In all honesty, you thought that the warm tint of the candles, the soft cushioning of the pillow beneath you and your laptop that currently plays Frank Ocean’s ‘Forrest Gump’ would have been motivating enough to get you through this specific topic of studies.
Sure, while it is quite mesmerising and comforting, the papers and books that scatter across your apartment along with pens, uncapped highlighters and sticky notes with frantic scribbles have deemed themselves overpowering to your once calm environment.
And it certainly does not help you understand what you are staring at right now with twitching eyes and furrowed brows.
Chapter 5: The Art of Observation | Subsection 5.3: Decoding Body Language
Your highlighter bleeds through the page of your P2 training manual as you over highlight.
You whisper the highlighted points, “Nonverbal communication accounts for up to 93% of human interaction…an invaluable skill to master during interrogations, de-escalations, and day-to-day interactions….recognise universal gestures, understanding micro-expressions, and identifying incongruences between verbal and nonverbal communication…practice and situational awareness are key to refining this skill…and remember-” You mumble. The words you speak breathe into your lungs but never quite reach your brain. You blink yourself awake, “reading body language is not just about observing- it’s about understanding the story behind the movement.”
Understanding the story behind the movement.
You curse yourself to the universe above that watches you steer away from your desk, a huff drawing from you as your mind fogs from exhaustion. Fuck, this is supposed to be easy. Why can't you understand this one thing?
Throughout your time training with your TO Tim Bradford, you found yourself getting strung up on one thing: Body Language.
Whether it be because your overthinking leads to self-doubt, or that you overanalyse every movement and try to memorise textbook definitions of cues rather than trusting your instincts or inconsistent interpretations.
And we wouldn’t want to get you started on spotting subtlety in one’s movements rather than an overt cue.
Whatever kind of situation you were put in, which thankfully, wasn’t a lot, you struggled to read someone’s body language and identify who was the real threat.
Releasing a groan, you drop your head down to your desk with a thump, your arms wrapping around you out of comfort and shielding you as you try to ground yourself from the shitty situation you have been placed in.
Physically and emotionally, you’re a mess. Your eyes are strained from how much focus you have pushed them into pursuing amongst the endless words and the screen on your laptop, and you can feel the oils in your hair greasing your roots from the stress your body has struggled to keep up with. Your brain feels fried and your heart patters tirelessly.
You're unsure how long you stay like this for...seconds, minutes, hours? But the moment you hear a knock boom against your wooden door, your thoughts immediately shrivel away as you jump out of your seat.
Who the fuck is knocking at 8pm?
Pausing your music from your laptop and standing up from your seat, you try to ignore the ache in your lower back from the horrible posture you've kept sitting at your desk. You rub at your eyes and pace your feet one in front of the other, dawdling your way to the knock that still rings in your ears from its expectancy.
“I’m coming!” You groan out, your hands just reaching the knob and the twist of metal sends an immediate chill to your overheated skin. Finally, you pull the door away, only to frown in confusion at the sight of the person in front of you.
“Sir?”
And there he stands. You take in his blue-washed denim jeans and the navy jumper that cuddles his body. He smells…really good. His hair is freshly washed, a darker tint cascading throughout his strands of hair, and he’s staring down at you with a frown on his face.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Boot?” Is the first thing he spikes up with, indulging in your physique by looking you up and down and you can’t help but shrink under his inspection. He spots your cream-coloured fluffy slippers, your hair loose and messy, and the matching grey sweatpants and hoodie set that bags away from the framing of your body.
You look at him, then down at yourself, then back up at him, “What’s wrong?” You ask and your head angles to the side.
Tim throws his hands up, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that I’m here to pick you up to take us to the bar where everyone is waiting for us, and you’re not even dressed!”
Fuck.
“Fuck,” You find yourself whispering aloud anyway, your eyes shut as you remember the conversations earlier today with your Mid-Wilshire team and friends inviting you to join them at the local bar for a drink.
You remember shaking your head multiple times, saying: “Oh my god, no! That’s the last thing I need before my exam!”
“Oh come on…” Lucy drags on as her and John’s stance next to your sides draws closer, your body warming under peer pressure as they continue to allure you, “We’ll call it ‘preparation drinking’ for you!”
“And Sergeant Grey will be there,” John peeks up, nudging your side, “so you basically have to go.”
You halt in your footsteps as they now stand against you, blocking you from moving anymore. Clearly awaiting your confirmation, the two of them raise their eyebrows with excitement glinting in their eyes.
You sigh, “Guys, no. I’m already stressing enough as it is, and plus, I have no one to take me...remember? Some loser decided to hijack my car and steal my baby away from me.”
“Excuses is all I’m hearing Officer Y/L/N,” Lucy places her hands on her hips, “One: Having a drink or two may actually do more wonders for your relaxation and de-stressing than you realise. And two…” Lucy scans the room over your head and her eyelids squint at her supposed spotted target, “I know someone who can take you.”
There’s no getting out of this, it seems. You give in to your dismay- and Lucy and John’s happiness.
So later that day when you’re riding with your TO in the shop, your mind running a mockery as you try to recite chapters and pages, you’re immediately distracted by Tim clearing his throat as he glances over at you.
“I’ll pick you up at 8, Boot, be ready by then.”
It’s 8:05pm.
“Well?” Tim begins, his arms back to being crossed over as he awaits your excuses.
However, your heavy sigh that covers your excuses slips out of your breath as you push the door open a little more. And Tim doesn’t get what you’re doing until his baby blues catch onto your desk- or what open space is left of it to his eyes.
“Sir,” You start, meeting his confused look at the surroundings, “I would love to go, but I really need to study for the exam. I’m struggling with this one concept and I just…” You huff, “I can’t get my head around it. I’m trying- I really am! And I just got so lost on time and-“
Tim frowns, “What concept?”
You stumble upon your words, unable to grasp the perfect way to admit to your TO that you are struggling even though your P2 exam is so short away.
But you can’t, because there isn’t a perfect way of saying this.
So, you drop your gaze to the floorboards and quietly usher, “Body language.”
The moment the words fall off your tongue, you don’t even need to look up to know that he reeks of disappointment- that, and you don’t want Tim to see your utter blush of embarrassment flushing your neck and ears.
His groan is heavy as he raises his right hand from where his arms were crossed to rub his forehead in circular motions with his index and middle finger, “Boot…”
“I know, I know, I’m trying so hard, Sir but it’s just not-“
“This isn’t good enough, and you know that,” Tim cuts you off, his gaze bordering frustration and disbelief- something you hate seeing with him, “We’ve gone over this section in multiple scenarios- how can you still not get it? I thought I taught you better than this.”
You’re a good rookie- you know that. But the overwhelming creatures that lurk the back of your brain stress to you that you really aren’t good enough as they keep pounding the walls you’ve built up against them.
You’re a good rookie. You’re a good rookie.
Your breathing is erratic as you blink back tears before reaching for your last bit of courage to look back up at him.
And it hits Tim like a dynamite to his heart.
His eyes soften as they study down into your cloudy ones and the way you’re just barely holding it together in front of him. Your hands fidget, you’re a mess, you can’t keep still, but you’re staring at him with plead in your pupils.
You’re trying- and he’s your last chance to get this right, to get you over the line, to just get it.
That’s when Tim realises that rather than ridiculing you (because it’s so not like you’ve already ridiculed yourself this whole fucking time), he should step up as your training officer and teach you because it’s only ever been his training techniques that have helped you to where you are now. It’s no use punishing you for something that falls entirely back onto him and his responsibility.
A fail in the P2 exam doesn’t just mean a failure to you as an officer, but an ultimate reflection on Tim’s failure to train you.
His exhale is slow as the tension in his muscles becomes plush to the touch, “Okay, let's work through this.” And immediately, a rush of relief flushes through your face. Tim peeks his head a little more into your apartment as he steps one foot past the door, “May I?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” You mutter, extending your arms out into your home to physically welcome him, “come in. Tea or coffee?”
“Water, please,” Tim murmurs, his eyes flickering amongst the piles of papers and books across your desk the closer he reaches it. A deep knot furrows between his brows as he brings a chair from your dining room over to your white desk, all the while, moving the endless pages of information around to free space.
As he does so, you’ve disappeared into your kitchen, hands trembling slightly as you fill a glass with water. The sound of the faucet running is your only distraction against the thick air that has suddenly arrived just in time with his presence. You don’t know what’s causing the tension, whether that be that, quite frankly, this is the first time a man has entered your feminine home or it’s the weight of knowing you’re about to have a one-on-one session with said man.
You’d be stupid to ignore the facts that Tim Bradford; your TO, means a lot to you.
Of course, you can’t stop the high-school swooning crush you have for him. Come on, who doesn’t? He’s a man of protection and resources. Sure, you’re younger than him, but his masculine qualities and those veiny arms do something palpable to your body.
Most importantly, though, is that he’s someone who has moulded you into who you are and what you know now, and his approval means everything. He’s hard-headed and rough and dominant, but deep down you know that in that cold-stoned heart of his, he’s compassionate and willing to do anything to help you succeed.
Your ovaries can wait. His time and knowledge is valuable- you can’t let him down.
When you return, you find Tim leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as his sharp blue eyes assess the chaos of your desk. You notice that he's placed your laptop and the lit candles on your dining table opposite the open space of your apartment.
He takes the glass with a small nod of thanks, setting it down without drinking.
“Alright,” He starts off, his tone steady but tinged with a kind of quiet authority that makes you straighten your posture instinctively as you sit down on your chair, “Show me what you’ve been working on.”
You clear your throat, quickly glancing his way before pulling your P2 training manual closer and flicking through to the dreaded section of the book. The pages are an embarrassing mess of highlighted passages, margin notes, and sticky tabs that seem more decorative than functional at this point.
“I’m trying to go through the practice questions,” You speak up, pointing to Question 3: Clusters of Behaviour.
Tim huddles closer to examine it, his arm just gently brushing yours and you try to suppress the absolute shock that spreads from his very touch, “Okay- During an interrogation, a suspect exhibits the following behaviours: Avoids eye contact, speaks rapidly, taps their foot repeatedly. How should the officer interpret these actions?” He tilts his head to look at you, “What do you think the answer is?”
You look at him, then down at the question that taunts you, then back at him, “I keep thinking A): These are signs of guilt and should be addressed immediately but I already had a look and it’s B): They indicate stress, which may or may not relate to deception.”
“As it should be,” Tim retorts, moving his body so he’s sitting directly in front of you and away from the manual, “Why did you immediately jump into action without assessing the suspect’s context?”
“I don’t know!” You fling your hands up with a huff, your eyebrows knitting as you also look at him, “Clearly, I’m not trying to. I’ve been memorising all these cues and examples, but when I try to apply them to actual scenarios, I just…blank. It’s like the more I try to focus, the harder it gets.”
Tim studies you for a moment, his gaze unwavering and you can’t help but feel an ounce of intimidation and nervousness under his silent stare.
You’re unsure of how he’s going to react to your admittance, but you shouldn’t expect any less from him. This is who he is- an unopened book with every response he gives you sending anxiety to your bones at whether he’s going to yell at you, smile at you, joke with you, snap at you, grumble, grunt, whatever.
However, to your surprise, he reaches out and flips the manual closed.
“Wha-“
“You’re overthinking it,” he says simply, resting his forearm against the closed manual. “Body language isn’t about memorising lists or definitions. It’s about instinct. Observation. You don’t need to know every term in the book to read someone- you just need to pay attention.”
You blink at him as the confusion in your brain fogs even more, “But…how am I supposed to pass the exam if I don’t know the technical terms?”
Tim smirks and chuckles quietly, allowing his body to relax against your agitated one, “Trust me, Boot. If you can read people in the field, you’ll pass the exam. They’re not testing your ability to recite definitions- they’re testing whether you can use what you’ve learnt.”
Sure, his words are meant to be reassuring, but the anxiety gnawing at your chest doesn’t quite ease as the frown in your brows never shies away and you’ve now moved to biting your nails as your last coping mechanism.
Sensing your lingering doubt, Tim sighs and shifts in his chair, the corners of his mouth tightening. “Alright,” he says, his voice taking on a firm but patient tone, “If there’s anything you should take from this topic and, most importantly, from me, it’s that observing non-verbal language should be examined in 3 sections: Eyes, body, and breath.” You try your best to snap a picture of what he said into your mind as you pull your fingers away from your face. He resumes, “Ignore the words they speak and how they speak them because you’ll get lost trying to figure out whether they’re lying or tricking you. Their body will give away their answer- it always does. The body never lies. What’s important, however, is that with whatever information their body shows, you need to piece together what they’re trying to say.”
Understanding the story behind the movement.
Tim's head angles to the side, “Does that make a bit of sense?”
Fuck, if only he was here five hours ago helping you would you be under different circumstances than just holding onto your last thread of hope and tears.
“Better than the textbook,” You compliment him, “Focus on eyes, body, and breath. Got it.”
“Good,” He replies and he exhales in relief, "Let’s try something different than reciting lines and lines of words.”
You eye him out of curiosity to his suggestion, however, you nod your head reluctantly and you shuffle a little in your seat, uncertain to what will come next.
“Body language is all about context,” he explains, “Every movement, every gesture- there’s a reason behind it. Let’s see how good your instincts are. I’ll act out a scenario, and you tell me what you see. No overthinking, no second-guessing- just say what comes to mind.”
Your stomach flips at the idea, but again you nod, determined to prove yourself.
With your agreement, Tim continues, “Let’s start with eyes, Boot. The eyes are everything- they’ll tell you where the mind is going before they even say a word. It’s about where they’re looking, how long they hold a gaze, or even if they avoid it completely.”
And then he draws closer, his sharp blue irises locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. For a split moment, his gaze softens, but then he shifts his expression ever so slightly- his brows narrow, his lids lower just a fraction, and his jaw tenses.
“What do you see?” he asks, low but steady.
“Uh…” You fumble, hyperaware of his scrutiny, “You…look like your normal self?”
He rolls his eyes, “Focus, Boot.”
Fuck, how can you with him looking at you so intently?
You swallow, “Okay, you’re focused…angry? But not really angry just…concerned?”
The flicker of approval in Tim’s eyes is unbearable to your racing heart as he slants back a little, “Good job, Boot. Concerned is close. My eyes are narrowing, my jaw is tight- they’re classic signs of someone processing something serious or difficult.”
There’s something about the words ‘good job’ and ‘Boot’ that you rarely hear form in a sentence from Tim’s lips and it has you lingering onto that hot flush of praise and validation that you oh so yearn for.
So you exhale, “Eyes. Where the mind is before words.” You recite, and suddenly the paining knot that’s been deeply rooted within your chest now for days loosens just a bit. Maybe, just maybe, you can actually do this.
A tiny hint of a…smile sparks onto his face as he carries on, “Alright, let’s move on to body. Stand up.” He orders, and you obey- as you always do.
You push your chair back and rise to your feet with Tim following suit. Your bodies are only inches apart and you find yourself shuffling back a little before your hormones make you do something entirely inappropriate like fucking jumping on him.
It’s no use anyway whether you moved back or not, he still towers over you.
But then he does something so…unsexual, yet, it has your focus entirely set on him. He hooks his fingers under the hem of his dark jumper and, in one fluid motion, he pulls it up and over his head, his muscles rippling under the movement. The air feels charged, your eyes immediately zeroing in on his white shirt showcasing his toned chest and bulging biceps that you can’t help but gawk at with the quick beating of your core.
God, you’re so feral for him- this shouldn’t be flustering you the way it is. But with how warm the atmosphere in your apartment has grown, you’re sure now that it isn’t the muted light above you tinting your cheeks a hot red but, perhaps- just perhaps, it’s the man who stands confidently in front of you.
It’s like you’re tunnel visioning right on him and his muscly arms and strong wafts of cologne and that taunting smirk on his lips and…and he’s stepping closer to you.
“Relax,” he says, his voice softer, almost teasingly, really. “You’re stiff as a board, Boot. Loosen up.”
Fuck, guess you really hadn’t noticed how lost in trance you were staring at him that your body completely solidified into the floor; a man’s physique has grounded you and sincerely, you know a crush turned this badly can only mean you are royally fucked.
But then, he places his hands lightly on your shoulders, guiding you to adjust your stance. And the heat of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you swear you see his lips twitch upwards in amusement.
“Better,” he murmurs, stepping back just enough to let you breathe- but certainly not enough to ease the sudden tension crackling between you. “Body language is about more than just posture. It’s the way someone leans in, the tension in their muscles, or how their movements shift when they’re comfortable- or when they want something. Watch me.”
Tim suddenly crosses his arms (you try your best to avoid the way his biceps expand from the movement), his shoulders draw upwards and he taps his foot repeatedly against the floorboards.
You knit your brows together in the hopes that it will make you observe better on him, “Closed off,” You spark up, hesitantly at first but it simmers more into confidence, “You’re defensive. The foot bouncing is…anxiety? Frustration?”
Tim stops the tapping of his foot yet keeps his arms crossed, but the small grin that tints his lips is far more important than anything else, “Not bad. Closed posture often signals defensiveness or discomfort, and the foot movement can show agitation or nervous energy- limbs can be utilised to cope with internalised stress such as fidgeting fingers or shaky knees. Keep in mind still that body language needs context. Frustration and anxiety can look the same, but the environment will tell you which one’s more likely.”
Understanding the story behind the movement.
You stand a bit straighter, pride rushing through your veins, “Okay, body language needs context, but it helps reinforce what the eyes tell?”
“Exactly- that’s it. See? You’re catching on now,” He praises, and you look up in surprise at his words and release a shudder through your bloodstream.
You’re helpless, you’ve fallen, you’re entirely under his embrace as you whisper, “Thank you, Sir.”
God, you’re making a fool of yourself.
Tim smirks, “Don’t thank me yet, we aren’t finished.”
Right, of course, breath.
Tim leans back into your desk, the moonlight that shines through your window from behind him glimmers an everlasting white glow onto his physique- causing a simple yet effective spotlight onto his back. You watch his hands grip tightly onto the edge of the desk causing his muscles to flex and sharpen his veins and his knuckles whiten from the pressure.
You quickly divert your gaze away.
“Breath is the hardest to fake. It’s involuntary and tied to emotion more than anything else. Breathing gives away more than you think. Controlled, even breaths mean someone’s calm. Quick, shallow ones?” He tilts his head and suddenly he’s moving closer to you where only two steps closer would have you colliding with him. His eyes tauntingly stare into yours, “Nervous. Or perhaps…something else?”
...Something else?
At first, you look at him blankly because the underlying words he points out in the explanation are far too relatable to how you feel in this sudden moment.
And then, you immediately curse yourself with a shit in and try to hold your breath.
Yet, it would be too late supposedly- he’s already noticed.
Your face heats as you stammer a line of defence, “I’m…calm.”
“Relax,” he says, his tone equal parts teasing and commanding, “It’s not a bad thing. Just…interesting.”
Interesting? Interesting?
It's one word but with that, your heart’s thump echoes throughout your body, your rib cages shake and the blood swimming in your veins only accelerates with pace and quantity. You force yourself to breathe in…breathe out…but there’s no use to it.
Does that mean he knows? Does that mean he’s caught on? And to the extent of how badly you want him? Surely he knows there’s tension, but does he know you’re not just thinking about kissing him but fucking him too? Does he know?
You shake your head to rid the thoughts- whatever he knows now is all that he’ll get out of you and nothing more. Your TO doesn’t need to know that you see him as something more than just a higher line of authority to you.
However, the air feels charged now, and the warm-tinted lights above you flicker against the overwhelming whirlwind of energy surrounding the room- the candles, too.
The bastard continues as if that moment never happened, “Breath is all about pace, depth, and how someone breathes when they’re worked up, nervous, or completely in the moment.”
You focus intently as he takes a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a purposeful rhythm. Then, without warning, his breath quickens, shallow and uneven, his shoulders moving with each exhale.
“What do you notice?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
You hesitate, your pulse pounding in your ears. “The slow breath...controlled. Like you’re trying to stay calm. But the quick breaths- panic? Or excitement?”
Tim’s expression softens, and for the first time, you catch a hint of something unguarded in his gaze, “Nicely done, Boot. You’ve definitely got it, you just need to stop overthinking and start trusting yourself.”
Your body eases as his words settle over you and the anxiety that once was gnawing at you has long frizzled away; you’re getting better. “Eyes, body, breath,” you repeat, more to yourself than to him. “Got it.”
Tim’s shoulders relax, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “That's it. Now let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention. I want you to read me.”
There’s a pause as you take into his words, and then you frown, “What?”
Your puzzled expression causes him to grin, “You’re going to observe me. Call it like you see it. Eyes, body, breath.”
Your heart skips, “You want me to...analyse you?”
“Exactly,” Tim says with a shrug, settling into the desk more comfortably as he leans back into it. His posture is relaxed, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he gestures for you to start. “Well? What do you see, Boot?" he prompts, his tone playful but laced with that familiar authority.
You swallow hard, suddenly hyper-aware of every tiny movement he makes and your fingers fidget from your sides. The pressure encapsulates you, you’ve never read anyone this closely before- let alone your own TO.
“Okay, well…” Clearing your throat, you start at his eyes first, studying his baby blues closely, “Your gaze is...steady,” you say, your voice a little shaky at first. “You’re watching me closely but you’re not narrowing your eyes or tensing your jaw. That tells me you’re open but still in control of the situation.”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“Your body is…relaxed,” You continue, noting how his posture oozes confidence. “But the way your fingers are tapping against the desk means you’re impatient.” But impatient of what?
Tim arches a brow, his expression unreadable, and you realise you’ve been holding your breath when you look down at his rosy lips, “And your breathing,” Your eyes move down to his chest too, “It’s even. Controlled. You’re not nervous or frustrated- you’re calm.”
There’s a beat of silence as Tim studies you, his face giving away nothing. And then, slowly, a grin spreads across his lips, “Not bad- I’ll give that to you.”
Relief flushes to your cheeks at the same time a little sigh leaves your lips at his approval, your chest swelling with pride. Thank fuck for that, thank fuck you did it, thank fuck you-
“But you missed one thing.”
You halt. Brows furrowing and eyes squinting as you look back at him with your mind replaying the previous scenes continuously, “What…What did I miss?”
Tim’s gaze locks onto yours, and for that split moment of silence, the air buzzes between you two, “My eyes,” he says gently, “They’ve been completely locked on you this whole time.” He tilts his head as his tone drops low, “What do you think that tells you?”
You hesitate. The flames that crackle from the candles of afar produce white noise in a way to ease the tension within you two and you find yourself warming up at his honesty, “It means...you’re focused on me. You’re analysing me as much as I’m analysing you. Maybe even testing me.”
“Exactly,” he commends, “When someone maintains direct eye contact, it can mean a lot of things: confidence, challenge, or, in this case, testing boundaries. But always remember, context matters. Eyes alone don’t tell the full answer.”
Understanding the story behind the movement.
Your breath catches in your throat, and the room suddenly feels much smaller. Tim’s words hang in the air, heavy with a meaning you’re not sure you’re ready to unpack.
But he doesn’t wait for your approval of understanding- you two have gone too far for that now, "You did great but-" He suddenly stands up, “Let me show you how observation is done."
You swallow hard to where you watch him and how slow and calculated his steps are compared to your fast-pumping body. Like a trance, your irises are glued to him and how he begins to circle you.
“If you were smart enough to notice, Boot.” He begins, “You’d realise this whole time I’ve been observing you, from ever since the moment you opened your door and looked at me with begging eyes for help to now, where every look and touch I give you makes you melt.”
You look to your side and stare down into the spurts of fire that dance on your dining table in the hopes of grounding yourself.
“You’re trying too hard to control yourself,” he mentions first, catching onto your force of engagement away from him and you curse yourself in your head. “You and I both know it’s too late for that. Did you know your eyes gave you away first? The way you couldn’t stop looking at my lips whenever I spoke, or how they flutter when I step closer to you with pupils dilated.” He then pauses behind you, his breath just as warm against your ear as the flames that sit mockingly from afar.
Your stomach flips. His breath tickles your neck and you feel the motion of one of his hands gripping the left side of your hip to turn you towards the desk, leaving you trapped between the desk and him. His other hand lifts your right arm’s sleeve up and he hums at the obvious sign on your limb.
“And this?” His fingers ghost over your skin, “The goosebumps. Your body’s way of screaming at me without saying a word. ”
You shudder but, you don't pull away.
Tim approaches closer, his lips brushing your ear, “Do you want me to stop?”
Because undeniably, there is a massive line you two are crossing here between TO and rookie, mentor and learner…man and woman.
A line that is shamed upon, unforbidden, unrealistic, unnecessary, and all in all, everything wrong. You know that once this line has been crossed, nothing will ever be the same between you two and the actions that are made tonight could have terrible, horrible, guilty consequences. Would Tim even be able to look you in the eye after this? Would you be able to for him? Would all the progress of a partnership between a kind and curious rookie to her rough and shrewd TO mean everything or nothing at the end of this? Would it all be worth it in the end?
But despite it all, there is no inch in your trembling body that screams yes as an answer to him.
“No,” you whisper.
And that settles it.
Tim turns you around to face him and he's towering over you with how close you are. He's never been this close. Not even when he'd use it as an intimidating tactic to yell at you- but his usual complexion of dominating is softer now...luring...assuring.
With gentle fingers, he reaches up to one of your temples and tucks the loose strands of hair behind your ears, and a tremor releases so strongly that your exhale comes out shaky.
Tim teasingly smirks at your body's reaction, "You tremble every time I touch you, but you never tell me to stop or act upon your actions, which can only mean one thing," He resumes, drawing slow circles into the dip of your waist, "you want me to make the first move...Would I be correct?"
Your blush of embarrassment fills your cheeks at how easily he's read you and how awfully pathetic your body can betray you under his observation. And he's looking back at you with that knowing look that he truly has you wrapped around his finger.
"Yes, Sir," You mumble shamefully, "That would be correct."
"Well, if that's the case," He starts, re-tucking the strand of hair he was working on before cupping the side of your jaw into his warm yet rough hand, "What do you think your body’s telling me right now?"
You squirm. Not because you don't want to answer him, but because you don't know whether he knows just how badly you want him. You don't just want to feel his lustful lips seer into a fiery kiss with yours. God no, your needy and wet core yearn for him.
With a beating heart ringing throughout your ears and your half-lidded eyes locked onto his, you find yourself gathering any source of confidence before replying: “That it really wants to get fucked by you.”
Within those longing seconds of awaiting his answer, you notice how his eyelids widen but then retreat back to a squint with his blues no longer there. Instead, black takes over the space. His lips curl into a salacious smile and he whispers attagirl before bringing you closer to his face with the pull of his hand.
The praise sends a jolt through you, and before you can think, his lips crash into yours with a desirable hunger that ignites every nerve in your body.
It’s not soft nor tentative (not that you would have expected any different from Tim) but you're revelling in how raw, commanding and powerful it is. You’re drowning in it for your greed pushes your breath aside to capture his kiss again. But just as equally, it’s like his very own lips are the only thing keeping your head afloat. They're a gentle saviour to your overwhelming built-up of feelings that could have done more damage than good to yourself if you continued the way you had by trapping them in your already busy mind.
In saying that, while Tim’s hand grips the side of your jaw to angle it back to deepen the kiss with his own personal invitation of his tongue, you can’t help but sigh in ultimate relief at how loudly this act of intimacy fills the weight of every stolen glance and unspoken word that has ever passed between you two. So much so that you feel like your feelings are being…reciprocated.
He’s precise with how he kisses you, and you don’t realise he’s pushing you back from the grip of his hand on your hip until you feel the hard surface of the desk just digging into your backside.
A moan slips from your throat as his hands lightly trace all the way down to cup your ass. He squeezes lightly before hoisting you up so you sit completely on the desk's edge.
Are there some pages scrunched from the sudden friction of movement and are there some papers you’re sitting on right now? Sure, but it’s not like either of you noticed anyway.
His fingers travel under your hoodie, roaming your velvet skin beneath his contrast of rough hands. As you finally pull away from the kiss, your moment to catch your breath is immediately disrupted by Tim lowering his face and placing wet and feather-like kisses on the side of your exposed neck. His stubble tickles your sensitive skin and your body reacts by canting your head back to provide more space for him to explore.
Your voice is breathy as you wrap your arms around his neck, “Tim, are you like this with...all your rookies?”
You can hear a small chuckle leave his throat, but he doesn’t pull away from you, “No, just ones who I know will…” He kisses you, “pass…” Another kiss, “their…” Another one, “exam.” And his tone is teasing with his raspy voice vibrating against you.
You stifle a laugh at the same time you let out a yelp at the sudden pinch against your neck, already knowing without looking that he’s creating a hickey, “Fuck- Sir,” And your hands have their own mind as they move up to his head. They cradle him there, your grip tight but comforting and your nails dig into the roots of his now dry short strands.
There’s no pushing him away as he draws one…two…three hickeys into your now bruised skin. Then, he pulls away to finally meet your low-lidded gaze, your mouth agape in hunger and full-blown lust.
But, he’s just like you. His cologne is now imprinted on your clothes and your eyes wander lower to his lips, then his sharp jawline, to where his chest furiously pounds against his white tee- and you feel yourself dripping wet at the thought of what may lay undernea-
“-You’re way too easy to read, Boot.” His voice cuts off your thoughts and you snap your focus to look back up at him to where a smug smirk rests upon those swollen red lips of his.
Your words are confident despite still flushing pink in your cheeks, “Not trying to be subtle about it.” You murmur, pulling your arms away from him to give him the space he needs to step back slightly. Then, he’s reaching behind his neck and your breath catches as he grabs the collar of his white T-shirt and pulls it over his head in one fluid, practised motion. The movement is so calculated, so commanding, that it leaves you momentarily stunned.
However, what’s most important is that he now stands before you, shirtless. It's such new territory that at first you aren’t too sure how to react- the sight of his bare chest and sculpted shoulders steals every coherent thought from your mind. But, when he moves in closer to you, your body instinctively reaches out and traces the muscles that flex beneath your fingertips' nerves.
You can’t restrain the moan rumbling deep from your core and you draw him into another kiss. This time, however, your hands roam his body- he’s even hotter than the searing air floating throughout your apartment.
Tim’s fingers inch to the hem of your hoodie, tugging it to motion you to take it off which, of course, you oblige. Pulling away, you glance up at him before grabbing the edges of your hoodie and taking it off, now becoming a collection on the floor with Tim’s shirt. Ultimately, this leaves you in nothing but your bra and sweatpants.
Again, new territory means you’re incredibly nervous for what's to come and it doesn’t help that Tim is just…staring at you.
“Do I look okay?” You try to swallow your anxieties as you try to not cover yourself and instead fiddle with your fingers in your lap, “Do you…like what you see?”
The low groan of Tim’s fuck that rasps out of his heavy breath is his first sentence, and then he’s gripping your waist again and he pulls himself closer to you, his eyes discovering every inch of your body for a split second before he trails his baby blues back to meet yours, “Oh, I don’t know, Boot, why don’t you tell me?”
At first, you think he’s joking, just playing along from your previous events of learning observation. But then he’s giving you that look, and he’s angling his head as if awaiting your answer and…oh, he wasn’t joking.
You blush furiously and you honestly feel like you could sweat from how hot you feel, but still, you obey and Tim can’t stop the pulse of pressure his hands indent into your waist from excitement and impatience. “Okay, well-” Already being so hyper-fixated on him assists in identifying his body language as you stare into his eyes, “Your pupils are dilated and heavy, which are easy signs of arousal. Your breathing is…erratic- meaning, you’re out of breath but also could mean you’re excited…or nervous. And…your body is close to me. Your hands hold me in place so I can’t leave and you’re leaning into me- you want more.”
He is leaning into you, and he certainly does want more. His forehead now nearly touches yours as he yearns for the touch of your body, “And?”
“…And?” You knit your eyebrows, trying to think about what else of his body language could mean more for his arousal.
Until, you feel his rock hard cock in his jeans pushing right into your covered core.
Your mouth faintly forms an ‘o’ shape at the realisation that your TO is very much so turned on by you. And the blush that was already there has doubled in heat and redness, your chest thumps wildly from it.
“Remember, sweetheart,” He begins teasingly, his fingers rising up from your stomach and around your back to where your bra’s clasps sit, “Put it all together now- eyes, body and breath. Like a puzzle piece, what does it tell you?”
Understanding the story behind the movement.
You slightly choke on your breath as you struggle to form words at how to exactly tell him that he, too, wants to fuck you.
But, that’s it- there is no other way. There are simply no other words that can form a coherent sentence that relates even closely to what his body is begging for you to do.
You find yourself a stuttering and flustered mess, “You do like what you see and that-” You whisper the next words, “-you really, really want to fuck me.”
“That’s it,” he coos, his lips barely grazing your forehead as he undoes your bra one clasp by another, slow but sensual, “Good girl, you're such a quick learner.”
Your breath hitches, his words making your stomach flip and your mouth falls open like jelly. He pulls back just enough to smirk at your reaction and then he’s taking your bra off, leaving your breasts completely bare.
“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice rough, “You like hearing that, don’t you?”
But before you can reply, his lips move down your chest via kisses, only to then attach to your right nipple.
Immediately, you arch into the warm embrace of his mouth, the heat of his touch sending sparks of arousal through every nerve in your body down to your wet pussy. His left hand keeps your other breast occupied while the other traces lazy lines into your back.
You’re so fucking turned on that your hands connect with the one thing closest to them: his jeans.
So, as Tim licks and flicks your nipple with his tongue, your fingers move to unbutton his jeans and pull his zipper down with the utmost haste. Then, as his jeans fall to the ground, you tug down his grey Calvin Kleins’, and you can’t help but moan loudly as just when Tim faintly brushes his teeth against your sensitive bud, he becomes completely bare from entrapment and his cock springs free.
He’s…fuck, he’s massive.
You flutter your eyes as Tim tackles your other nipple, your top teeth gently grazing your swollen bottom lip. And without thinking a second into it, your hands are already reaching out to grasp his cock, one sitting at his thick base and the other resting at his leaking pink tip. There, you move in motion to how the man assaulting your chest circles your breasts and if there is one thing you could wish upon the dazzling moonlight from behind your apartment’s illuminating windows, it would be to keep a forever replaying record of your TO’s groan. It’s husky, low, and quite honestly, the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.
Your hands continue their rhythm, the one on the base twisting at the same time that your palm does too, making sure to collect all drops of pre-cum and distribute it onto every inch of him.
Tim pulls away, breathless and he lowers his forehead onto your shoulder, groaning again, “Fuck, Boot, feels so good,” He whispers against your smooth skin, kissing the spot his lips rest upon.
You pull back to capture his whole face just for a second and before you even realise it, your subconscious reads him- observes him;
Shut eyes and knitted brows…concentration. Concentrated on the feeling. Messy hair…‘sex’ hair. Breathless and imbalanced breathing…aroused, excited. Pretty eyelashes fluttering. Leaning in…wanting more, always wanting more.
And then, he opens his eyes.
But the emotions still stick around.
There’s a smirk tugging on your lips as the hand that once rested on his base has now lowered a little more to where his balls rest. The smallest touch of your fingers playing with them has pride blossoming throughout your veins at the gasp that escapes him.
You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, so gentle, so…exposed. But, you like it. For someone so hard-headed and constantly wearing a frown so much it’ll probably cause early-aged wrinkles, you savour in this moment where he’s content.
He’s content because of you.
So lost in thought, you don’t notice that you both have directed your eye contact down to watch your hands glide perfectly around him- and Tim’s untying the drawstring’s bow on your sweatpants.
You feel his words more than hear them, his voice gravelly and thick with need as he grunts, “Shit, I’m not gonna last if you keep doing this.”
A sly smile spreads across your lips, your new profound ego boost intoxicating your persona as it breaks through your haze of desire. “What? This?” You tease as one hand reaches lower to trace his perineum and the other, slick with moisture, rubs his frenulum.
His jaw tightens, his knuckles tightening on your pants’ waistband, “Careful,” he warns, his tone dark but laced with that tempting edge that makes your stomach flip.
You analyse him and how his breath has changed its route to quick yet airy inhales and exhales and as much as he tries to look at you, his arousal says otherwise with the way his eyelids flutter.
You hum, “You should be the one that’s careful, Sir- you’re getting close.”
He lifts an eyebrow at you, “Oh, you want to test me?” he growls, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His baby blues are stormy now, locked on yours as his hands tug your pants down your ass and thighs until they fall with gravity to the floor and you're left in nothing but your panties. The cool desk connecting with your skin contrasts with the heat you radiate in this very sudden moment, “Well, let’s see how long you last.”
Before you can respond, his fingers are slipping your underwear down as well, and he’s brushing his index finger against your slick heat.
You gasp, wrapping one hand back on his cock while the other places itself beside you, clutching onto the edge of the desk for stability. His thumb has already found your clit and he wastes no time circling it slowly and deliberately. “Already so wet for me,” he mutters, his voice low and full of satisfaction. His other hand grips your chin and tilts it up, forcing you to look at him. “I want to hear every little sound, understand?”
You nod breathlessly, barely able to form words as one finger slides inside you, curling just right against that plush cushioning of your g-spot.
“Good girl,” he praises, his tone sending a fresh wave of heat through you, "How's that feeling?"
Tim’s fingers are long and rough as he fucks them into you, hitting all the right spots within you that have you shuddering into a hot and overwhelming bliss. You've left your attention off of his cock as you pull your hand away and place it also on the edge of the desk, selfishly taking into account your own pleasure in this heated moment. He’s just so excellent at this that even your own digits couldn't reach the areas he can and you wish he were here every time you were aroused so he could come back and bless you like this over and over again.
You don't even know how to reply to him but yet you still stutter out incoherently, "Fuck, so good, holy shit."
Your senses hit an overdrive- you don’t know whether to look at his dark irises and that smug smirk you want to kiss off, the hand that's moved from your chin to your waist, his fingers or, really, nothing by shutting your eyes closed. The air is thick and sticky from the arousal filling your apartment, and the only noise that can be heard is your heavy breaths, the occasional moan from you and your pussy squelching from Tim’s teasing fingers.
“Sir-” You start, but what are you even going to say?
Luckily, he knows exactly what you need, “I know, baby, I know,” He coaxes, placing a tender kiss on your lips as he adds a second finger and his other hand diverts its attention from your waist to your aching clit, earning himself another gasp that he collects into his memories, “Doing so well for me, aren’t you?”
Fuck, he's right- you aren’t going to last. Your bundle of nerves have already begun fluttering within your core’s walls and your breath is harder to catch the longer he’s fucking into you.
You pull your lips away from him, finding comfort in the nook between his neck and shoulder as you nibble gently down on his skin and you’re begging, “Please, please, Sir…” but for what? Release? More? Harder? Rougher? Faster?
But, Tim gets it, he really does. Despite never have laying a finger like this on you ever since knowing you, it’s like he knows exactly how to please you.
You’re a kind and gentle person and a good rookie who obeys and listens- that’s a starter. You need to be talked through things, especially from him whether that be helping you with your P2 exam or...well, fingering you (Regardless, he's giving you the satisfaction you need either way). And on the rare occasion when Tim praises your work, there’s a flash of something dark that flutters within your eyes and eyelashes like an addiction, an obsession to have more. It wasn’t hard for your body to tell him that his praise wasn’t just a compliment to you, it was something you’d be going to bed fantasising about.
"Taking my fingers so good, Boot,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, the rumble of his voice sending another wave of heat through your body. “Wonder what you’ll be like taking my cock.” His veins pump heavily out of exhaustion with each hook movement he gestures from his index and middle finger and his other thumb pushes into your clit with such delicate yet deliberate circular motions.
His words have you gasping and your shaky legs widening which, in return, has the desk rattling even more- but that’s the last of either of your concerns.
“Sir, I’m so close-”
“-Oh, don’t worry, I know,” He taunts because, really, you’re quite obvious about it. But Tim is more revelling in how your warm pussy flutters around him, your sharp breaths coming from your pretty lips and your trembling body that follows.
Then, one of your hands clasps the back of his head and you’re pulling him closer to you, a loud gasp drawing from the deep heavens of your voice with a symphony of oh, oh fuck~ that he knows exactly the moment your orgasm has peaked.
“Breathe through it,” He coaxes, though his voice betrays the tension running through him, his own arousal barely contained as he watches you come undone beneath him. He milks your climax, his fingers slowing down to a faint manoeuvre within you and your clit just being grazed as he places featherlight kisses on your forehead. And yet, you still listen; trying to catch your ever-escaping breath as your body quivers down from your high, “That’s it, sweetheart.”
One, two, three heartbeats echo within your ears as you sit there tirelessly, your eyes that were once shut now fluttering open to meet your TO’s stare- the man who just gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm of your life.
You swallow hard, your breathing slowly returning to a steady rhythm. Tim pulls his fingers out of you, and a pang of emptiness settles in your core. That is, until another wave of arousal tingles through you as your gaze drops to his fingers that glisten with your juices. You exhale a shaky puff of hot air, “Wow, that was-“
“-Was?” Tim cuts you off, his voice rich with authority and a suggestive lilt that he always had whenever you would say something while he was training you in the shop. He tilts his head as his hands travel under your thighs, canting your body so your pussy is fully exposed to the warm glow of the overhead light. The sight of you is iridescent - flushed, radiant, utterly wrecked - and it steals his breath. In this very moment of Tim’s sexual tendencies and the release of bundled-up feelings: you are an angel, “Oh, Boot, I’m not done with you yet.”
His words are all that you need to hear to have your heartbeat spiking back up again, your breath hitching and the wetness between your legs intensifying.
Fuck, that is exactly what you wanted to hear.
There’s a smirk on his face and he widens your legs, stepping closer into your space. He gently pushes you back with one hand resting on the back of your head so you now lay completely flat on the desk. His cock's tip aches red as it just gently rests at your entrance. You squirm as he lets it glide through your folds, gathering your slick and nudging against your throbbing clit before returning to tease your entrance.
“Sir,” You prop yourself up on your elbows as you glare at him, a groan slipping in frustration and your hips instinctively arch towards him, seeking more.
“I got you, Boot,” He murmurs, eyes daring into yours as he drags his cock through your folds once more before pressing the blunt head against your entrance, this time with a little more pressure.
Then slowly, he pushes in.
The small gasp you let out as you feel his tip stretching you forces Tim to recite lines and lines of the Police Handbook in his mind in order to not fucking cum from your pretty noises, and it doesn’t help that you’re staring deep into his dark gaze with heavy eyes, filled with pleasure and need.
He continues to push into you and your mouth falls agape, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he finally bottoms out, his hips completely flush against yours.
There’s stillness, aside from the blood that races throughout your system and both of your chests heaving. And you’re staring at each other with such hunger, desperation, sensualness. In this angle from where you lay, the moonlight’s physique compliments yours as it shines directly onto you, lighting you up like you're some kind of Goddess.
In Tim's eyes, you are.
He doesn’t leave you waiting long- he pulls back just enough before thrusting in to bury inside you. Your head falls back against the desk as your body adjusts to the massive intrusion, a moan rumbling through the both of you. Whether it be your imagination or that you’re actually basking in it from where you lay, you are for sure seeing stars the more he pushes into you. The stretch is exquisite, every inch filling you and igniting a fire that spreads through your entire body.
While at first, his movements are slow, a pace begins to pick up, and it’s to the point where Tim’s locked onto your waist and he’s pounding into you.
His fingernails dig into your flesh, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face,” He breathlessly says, to which you immediately lift yourself up, along with propping back up onto your elbows for support and you melt at the man that stands in front of you.
Of course, you always thought your TO was hot- in a way that was desirable and intimidating in chorus. But right here, right now where his hair is a hot sweaty mess, his pupils are full blown out black, and his muscles are flexing in all the best ways possible as he fucks into you is an absolute sight to see.
He grins at the way you observe him, “That’s right, baby, taking me so well,” He inches in closer to draw his lips into yours.
The kiss is everything of a mess; tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clattering, hot breaths engulfing one another, but, it’s everything right too. This new angle has him fucking you deeper and the stretch has you moaning into his mouth.
“You make me feel- fuck-” You choke out at a hard thrust, “amazing.” And sincerely, you don’t want this to end.
Tim groans, sweat beading his forehead, “Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” He fucks you hard again, “How much I…want you?”
Your heart flutters, an overwhelming dose of praise hitting you and you think about how he’s probably praised you the most today out of all the other days you soldiered through being tormented as his rookie. No other day you have had with him has or will ever compare to right now- sexually, romantically and morally. From moments where he’d spend the whole day glaring and yelling at you like you were an absolute waste of time to…now, where he’s confessing not just his desire for your body, but for you.
At first, you’re taken aback by it, eyes widening in utter surprise. But then you rake your gaze up his eyes, down to his body, then back up to his breath and…yeah he isn’t quite hiding it.
“I…” You collect your breath, “I think I may have an idea.”
He chuckles breathlessly, making sure to really bury himself into you for your smartass mouth, “Fuck, of course, you do, I’ve taught you well.”
But the banter falls just as quickly as your smile when you feel the coil in your core tightening. And it’s like he sees it too and so he slows his movements, pulling out almost entirely before leaning down to peck you. Then, he whispers against your lips, “Turn over for me.”
The command sends a fresh wave of heat vibrating through you, and without hesitation, you obey. You allow him to reluctantly pull out and you shakily step off the desk (completely ignoring the mess of scrunch-up and ripped papers) before standing and turning away from him, bracing your hands against the desk.
Tim’s calloused hands slide down your back, over the curve of your ass, then one hand moves to your mid-back and the other to the back of your head and again, he’s ever so slowly pushing you down. Finally, you’re face down on the desk and before you can say anything about how he’s never been so soft on you before and that maybe this should teach him to be more easy-going on you while training you, he’s sinking his cock back into his home.
He doesn’t hold back this time. His thrusts are steady and unrelenting, each one drawing a mix of moans and cries from you. He manhandles your arms to rest behind your back and he’s clutching onto your wrists with one hand.
“You’re so beautiful like this. Every little sound you make- it’s all for me, isn’t it?” And then, if it couldn’t get any better than his flourish of praise reddening your already blushed cheeks, his other hand snakes around to your front, his fingers finding your clit again and rubbing slow, torturous circles that only add to the intensity.
With the extra stimulation to your bundle of nerves, that ever-growing bubble forms once again and your breath hitches, “Oh my God, Sir, please, I need to- ah-”
“What is it, sweetheart?” You can hear him hum, his stare burning through your head, constantly pounding into you at a pace that even you can’t handle. He knows what you need, of course he does- but, he’s a tease and won’t let you go that easily.
Your legs start to shake, your body trembling with the force of the pleasure building inside you. Your smart mouth has withered away under his dominance as you blush in embarrassment and stutter out, “Cum! Fuck’s sake, Tim, I need to cum.” Only to shyly add, “Please, Sir- you’re driving me crazy.”
Tim stifles a laugh at your sudden outburst before tightening his grip on your wrists, “Of course, baby, let go. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” But he isn’t far off from you either, feeling the tightening in his balls.
It’s at this moment that he, as well, wishes you two could stay like this- hot, aroused. And with this position, you both have the moon brightening onto your scene, shining on you two as if you were one, if you were...together, connected.
Tim applies just the perfect amount of pressure to your clit that it pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that leaves you crying out his name, your walls fluttering around him as your vision tunnels and blurs.
Tim doesn’t let up, his thrusts slowing but growing deeper as he chases his own release, his breathing ragged and strained. Your whimper of overstimulation is swallowed by his low groan, the sound vibrating through your already spent body. With one last thrust, he leans over you, his strong arms bracing the desk on either side of you and he stills. His hips press flush against you as his hot threads of cum spill inside you, his grip on your body grounding him as he rides out the waves of pleasure.
The room falls silent.
Except, this time, there’s a sense of satisfaction lingering in the air- your breaths sync into a rhythmic cadence as they slowly return to normal, the goosebumps aren’t from tension anymore but from the coolness of the room, and your heart is stable, balanced, content.
Tim is still leaning over you, and you can hear the moment his breathing steadies because he plants a kiss on the back of your neck and murmurs, “You okay?” His voice is silk to your ears but filled with genuine concern as his hand traces up your back, brushing strands of hair from your face and tucking them gently behind your ear.
You hum in response, “More than okay,” you whisper, your voice laced with exhaustion and exhilaration.
Tim chuckles, low and warm, before he stands back up and pulls out of you carefully, earning a little whimper from your sensitive body. He shushes you soothingly, his hands running down your back and over your hips, grounding you. “I’ve got you, Boot,” he coaxes, and you believe him.
Before you can fully process it, he’s guiding you to sit in the desk chair that had been abandoned oh so long ago. He presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back.”
You nod, your eyelids heavy as you sink into the cushioning chair.
Your mind is a blur, but thankfully, it isn’t because of stress for the P2 exam, or that stupid topic on Body Language. If anything, your body’s still buzzing, your mind blissfully blank from being thoroughly fucked.
When Tim returns with a damp, warm cloth, you watch him kneel in front of you. “I think I may have found my new favourite learning technique,” You whisper, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you watch him clean you up with the utmost care.
He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head, “Good thing you won’t be a rookie for long, then. Otherwise, I might have to come up with a few more creative teaching methods."
“…I’ll think of things to learn.”
He pauses, his attention turning fully to you, his eyes softening in a way that feels foreign on his usually hardened face, “Biased or not, Boot, you will pass the exam. I know it.”
The humour once slipping hoarsely from your mouth grows quiet as your cheeks flush with affection and his words of kindness, “Thank you.” You murmur just as you gently exhale.
He smiles, then leans in to kiss your forehead, “Always.”
The weight of his gaze settles on you, and it’s not just lust anymore- it’s something deeper, something unspoken. It makes your heart flutter in a way that’s almost more overwhelming than the physical intensity you just shared.
Once he finishes cleaning you, you invite him down to your couch. He obliges, pulling you into his chest. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your arm, lulling you into a peaceful haze.
Hey can you do one where the reader and Tim is in the middle of having s*x and Tim gets a phone call from his job in metro and he answers the phone while he is still inside of her
Duty Calls
Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!)
Word count: tba
Authors Note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Hope you'll like it!
Enjoy!
You flinched, as his phone went off again.
"Maybe you should answer it." you suggested breathlessly, on the verge of a moan. He grumbled something against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin.
When his phone went silent again, his grip on your hips tightened, his movements becoming faster. You moaned his name, your own grip on him tightening as well.
"Tim." you moaned his name, hips coming up to meet his. "Please, don't sto-" you were cut off when his phone went off again, and he groaned.
His head left the crook of you neck, as he fished for the intruder, his pace never once faltering. He glanced at you, before he pressed the answer button, holding the phone against his ear.
Your eyes went wide and you pushed against him, trying to make him stop. Biting on your lip to hold back a moan, his pace stayed the same, though.
"Yeah?" he spoke into the device, surprisingly calm despite the pleasure coursing through his body with every thrust of his hips. "Sure, when?"
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as he shifted his hips slightly, now hitting that sweet spot of yours that had you see stars with each thrust.
His brows and lips twitched, as he held back a moan of his own, as you clenched around him. "Okay, what will we find there?" he spoke, his other hand tightening its grip around your waist for leverage.
Your hand slipped between your lips, biting down to keep quiet, as a moan rumbled through you.
His lips twitched again, eyes fluttering, as he somehow managed to increase his pace. "Yeah, sure. Send me the location. What about the others?" he spoke, clearing his throat, and your breathing hitched at how close you were.
You tried to hold off on it, as he leaned more forward, elbow propped on the mattress, phone still pressed to his ear. He was so close you could hear his boss.
Head thrown back, your brows knitted in pleasure, biting down on your hand again to stay quiet.
He hummed into the phone, trying desperately to keep his breathing in check, as he felt himself near his climax as well.
"Yeah I- I'll be there." he pressed out, before hanging up, throwing the phone to the side. His now free hand gripped your thigh, moving you against him with every thrust.
"Metro." he breathed out, panting. Your hand slipped from your mouth, making way for a sinful moan, his name on your parted lips.
You nodded, back arching.
"I'm so close!" you breathed out, moaning again. He nodded in return, pace quickening even further. "Me too." he pressed out through clenched teeth, groaning in pleasure. "Me too."
He watched the way your tits bounced, as his phone went off again. Your body chose the exact same moment to let the coil in your belly snap, pleasure coursing through you with a cry of his name.
Your orgasm triggered his own, and he spilled himself into you, moaning and groaning your name, riding you through it, before he stilled.
Panting, your head fell back into the pillows, as his phone went silent again.
"I'm gonna have to go now." Tim breathed out, trying to catch his own breath. You nodded, as your own phone went off.
Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3
Sorry if it doesn't make sense
puppy love - tim bradford
{ masterlist }
🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33
word count: 1039
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.
However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that.
Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.
You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead.
He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.
You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.
===
Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.
The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.
Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life.
“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh.
“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.
Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.
Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues.
“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.
“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing.
“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.
Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.
Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead.
When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Warnings - kidnapping, drugging, talks of malnourishment, sad Tim hours, angst, fluff, inaccurate medical scenes, swearing
Summary - after being missing for years, you and Tim are finally reunited
A/N - hey y'all! this was an idea suggested to me by @scarletstarrs so I hope I did your idea justice because I loved exploring this idea so much (and all the angst that came with it). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
When Lucy entered the station, ready for the morning roll call, she was both shocked and confused to find Tim Bradford missing from the building. Other than being forced to take leave after being shot, Tim had always shown up to work no matter what.
“Hey, have you seen Tim?” Lucy asks, sitting down in between Jackson and Nolan who both shrug, shaking their heads. Before the three could begin theorising about where Lucy’s training officer had gone, Sergeant Grey stepped up to the podium and began to talk, detailing what was going to be happening during the day. Just before he sends everyone off to start the day, he addresses Lucy.
“Officer Chen, you’ll be riding with me today. Dismissed.” Grey says, his dismissal causing everyone to stand up and make their way out of the room to start their day. As Grey begins to exit, Lucy follows after him.
“Sergeant Grey, while it’s an honour to ride with you today. Where’s Officer Bradford?” Lucy asks, trying her best to sound respectful while enquiring about where Tim is.
“Officer Bradford is taking a personal day,” Grey replies simply, gesturing for Lucy to go and get the war bags to load the shop. At Grey’s gesture, Lucy began to make her way to get the bags, silently wondering to herself why Tim had taken a personal day and whether he was okay.
Across LA, Tim was sitting at home. He had barely had the energy to move out of bed when he woke up but he had managed to drag himself over to the sofa after making sure Kojo had his breakfast. Kojo, while not having lived with Tim long, had picked up on Tim’s melancholy mood and curled up next to him, whining softly as Tim studied a picture on his phone. Tim let out a soft sigh, tears filling his eyes as he studied the picture, a picture of him and you, his wife, on your wedding day. He was embracing you happily, lips pressed to yours.
“I miss you so much,” Tim whispers, unable to remove his gaze from the image of you. You had gone missing three years ago to the day, and Tim could never forgive himself for it. At Tim’s whisper, Kojo shuffled around, resting his head on Tim’s lap, sensing Tim’s pain. Kojo’s movement briefly pulled Tim’s attention away from his phone.
“I’m sorry buddy,” Tim says softly, stroking the top of Kojo’s head. Since you had been taken, Tim had consistently taken a personal day on the date you were taken with each passing year you remained missing. Most detectives involved in your case had told Tim that it was time to give up. The chances were high that whoever had taken you had killed you and had moved on. But Tim wouldn’t just give up on you. He couldn’t. Deep down he knew you were still out there somewhere, and he needed to find you. As Tim continued to swipe through the album of photos he had of you and him, Kojo began to paw at his leg slightly, as if trying to drag him out of his slump.
“I know. Come on, I’ll take you for a walk.” Tim says, knowing that keeping Kojo inside because of his upset would just not be worth it. Tim manages to get up from the sofa, shower and change before grabbing Kojo’s lead. As he left the house with Kojo trotting along by his side, he was silently grateful for the dog’s presence in his life. Before Kojo came around, Tim just wallowed in his house, hiding away from the world when he missed you too much. But now he had someone relying on him, and he couldn’t let Kojo down. After reaching the park, Tim let Kojo off the lead so he could explore while he sat on a bench. As he watched Kojo, he couldn’t help but imagine you sat by his side. You had always wanted to get a dog since long before marrying Tim and he had always put it off, claiming he wanted to wait. He felt so guilty for owning Kojo while you were missing but he knew that when he found you, you’d love Kojo and you’d so quickly become his new favourite person.
After a while, Tim whistled for Kojo to come back over so they could walk back home and as they made their way home, Tim’s phone buzzed, alerting him that he had a message but he opted to wait until he was home to see what it was. When he finally made it home, Tim collapsed onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to see a text from Angela.
‘How are you?’
That simple message was enough to bring the smallest of smiles to Tim’s face. Angela had been Tim’s entire support system since the day you went missing. She had checked in with him regularly and was someone to lean on during his bad days. When she had been promoted to detective, Angela had promised Tim she would do what she could to try and pick up any leads in your missing persons case. Tim had been so grateful for Angela’s support over the last few years, she was the person he needed to help him navigate your absence in his life.
‘Could be better.’
Tim could never lie to Angela. She had ways to see right through him, even over text so he knew there was no point even attempting to act like he was feeling okay on a day like this.
‘Do you want to come over? Have some company?’
Angela’s offer of company was not unusual, although the last few times Angela had asked if he wanted her to come over after her shift had finished, but now with her on maternity leave, both she and Tim had a whole day to console each other.
‘That would be nice. I’ll be over in a few.’
Tim types out and sends his response, once again forcing himself up from the sofa and petting Kojo, promising him he’d be back soon before grabbing the keys to his truck and making his way to Angela’s house.
When he arrived he barely even knocked on the door before Angela opened it, a soft gentle smile on her face as she took in Tim’s appearance. It was obvious to her that he hadn’t slept well the night before but she couldn’t blame him. If Wesley had gone missing she knows she’d be absolutely beside herself with worry and anticipatory grief.
“Come and sit down,” Angela says softly, resting a hand on Tim’s back and guiding him to the sofa, easing herself down alongside him, her gentle hand never leaving his back as she moves it up to rub his shoulder lightly. For a few minutes, the two of them sit in silence before Tim lets out a shuddering breath.
“I miss her so much.” Tim manages to say, his voice choking as tears begin to well in his eyes.
“I know, Tim,” Angela says sympathetically, her hand continuing to rub soothing circles on his shoulder in an attempt to keep his breathing steady.
“It hurts.” Tim manages to say, hand hovering near his heart, swearing he could feel his heart pounding louder and stronger with each second.
“I can’t imagine the pain. But I’m here for you. You’re not alone.” Angela says softly, feeling her heart break more and more at Tim’s broken state. She was the only person who got to see this side of Tim in these moments and it made her more and more determined to find you. After a few moments of comforting whispers from Angela and teary sniffles from Tim, he turned to face her, eyes still shining with unshed tears.
“Do you think we’ll even find her alive?” Tim asked, uncharacteristically pessimistic about your case, making Angela shocked.
“She’s got to be out there somewhere. And we’ll find her.” Angela says, pulling Tim into a careful hug.
“It’s my fault she’s gone,” Tim mutters against her shoulder, a confession no one had heard from him before.
“Don’t say that. You’re not to blame.” Angela says, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes as he shakes his head.
“I am.” Tim insists, his right hand moving to fiddle with his wedding ring, a movement Angela didn’t miss. She knew he would take the ring off when he was on duty, but when he was off duty it would be restored to its rightful place and he’d often find himself twisting it around on his finger out of habit.
“Why do you say it’s your fault?” Angela asks tenderly, hoping she’d be able to help Tim realise that it wasn’t his fault.
“We had an argument that night. A stupid one at that, I can’t even remember what it was about, maybe about chores or something? But y/n got pissed at me and she said she needed to go on a walk to clear her head. I was pissed too and the moment she left I just decided to go to bed. I was too angry to do anything else. If I had gone after her none of this would’ve happened. She’d still be here with me.” Tim whispers, feeling like his throat is closing more tears welling in his eyes as he relives that night.
“Where are you going?” Tim asks, pausing his angry pacing to glare at you from across the room.
“For a walk. I can’t be around you right now.” You reply, your voice just as venomous as his as you grab your keys, reaching for the door handle.
“Fine.” Tim spits angrily, turning on his heel and stalking off again as you open the door, exiting and angrily closing the door behind you while Tim storms to the kitchen, grabbing himself a beer from the fridge.
After a couple of beers, Tim decided it wasn’t worth staying up waiting for you any longer. You had taken your keys and he knew you’d come back whenever you were ready to so he took himself to bed, practically passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Tim woke up and found your side of the bed still empty, and when he reached across to search for any remaining body heat, he found that your side was still cold, like no one had slept in it all night. Figuring you had spent the night on the sofa, Tim sat up and got himself out of bed, all anger from the night before gone.
“Hey, Baby, I’m sorry about last night.” Tim enters the living room, rubbing his eyes as he enters, stopping in his tracks when he realises you’re not in the room, nor was there any evidence you had even slept on the sofa. At the sight of the empty room, and your keys still missing from the key bowl, Tim felt his stomach turning with anxiety. He just knew something bad had happened to you. You wouldn’t just go silent on him or not come home at all.
After trying to call your phone and getting no answers, Tim knew he had to file a missing persons case when he got to work. He wasn’t going to rest until he found you.
“Tim, listen to me. It is not your fault. You couldn’t have known. Neither of you could’ve known there would be a psycho out there. You can’t blame yourself for something you never could’ve anticipated.” Angela says softly, her voice shaking Tim from his thoughts. She could imagine the guilt Tim was feeling, but she knew it wasn’t his fault.
“It is. If I had just-”
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. There’s nothing you could’ve done. I know just as well as you that y/n is stubborn as anything, so if she wanted to go and get some air after your argument then she would’ve done it regardless. You can’t predict the future and y/n wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” Angela says, her voice was soft yet firm so she can get her point across to Tim. She knew Tim had a habit of blaming himself for things out of his control but she had no idea that he had carried guilt from your disappearance silently and had been beating himself up about it for so long.
“I just need to find her. I need her safe and home with me. I didn’t even tell her I loved her the last time I saw her.” Tim says, fiercely wiping at his eyes to stop any tears from falling.
“I’m working with detectives to pick up the dead ends from y/n’s case. One of them will lead us somewhere I’m sure. Between you and me, working y/n’s case is the only work Wesley is okay with me doing while on maternity leave. He knows how important it is to us and he’s promised me that if we catch the asshole he’d ensure he spends the rest of his life behind bars.” Angela says reassuringly, wanting to help restore Tim’s faith in finding you.
“Thank you, Angela,” Tim says quietly with a nod. With the topic seeming to be at an end, Angela decides to change the subject and while Tim had always jokingly complained about helping Angela with wedding planning, he was more than happy to do so on this day. While he helped Angela plan various parts of her wedding, he couldn’t help but think about the time he had spent planning his wedding with you.
“Tim, we can’t seat my uncle next to your brother-in-law!” You exclaimed with a laugh, curling further into Tim’s side as he wrapped his arm around you, chuckling lightly to himself, both of you focusing on the seating chart Tim had drafted.
“Sure we can. It would be hilarious.” Tim says, squeezing you closer, his hand winding around your waist.
“You want our wedding to result in a fistfight?” You say, an amused tone to your voice as you raise an eyebrow.
“Mmm, might not be the best idea then,” Tim murmurs, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek.
“The best idea is to make sure they stay as far away from each other as possible.” You muse, unable to stop the smile covering your face as Tim continued to press kisses to your cheek.
“We’ll figure it out.”
By the end of the day, Tim had spent most of his time at Angela’s house and he had been beyond grateful for her company and her willingness to help him through a day like this. When Wesley got home, Tim decided that was when he should be heading home himself, knowing Kojo was probably waiting for him.
“I’ll see you around,” Tim says quietly, giving Angela a gentle hug, pulling away and giving Wesley a friendly nod before making his way out of their house, heading to his truck to head home. Unbeknownst to Tim, the moment he left, Angela’s phone buzzed and when she read the text she knew she had to step into work again. Whether Wesley liked it or not.
The next morning, Angela made her way to the hospital, meeting with other detectives once she got there before being led to a room that had a girl inside. Angela figured she couldn’t be any older than her early twenties. After getting a quick brief from the other detectives, Angela made her way into the room, smiling softly to let her know she wasn’t a threat.
“Hi, Bella. I’m Detective Lopez, but you can just call me Angela.” Angela introduces herself, easing herself down onto one of the hospital room chairs as Bella eyes her carefully. Angela could tell that the last thing Bella wanted was to be questioned but it was protocol, whether she liked it or not.
“I promise I’ll make this quick, just tell me what happened,” Angela assures, pulling out her notepad and pen.
“A few months ago, some guy grabbed me off the street while I was making my way home. He kept calling me ‘Samantha’ the whole time. No matter how many times I told him my name was Bella he just ignored it.” Bella explains, tears welling in her eyes as her arms wound around her middle.
“Can you describe this man? And where he was keeping you?” Angela asks carefully, making notes on her notepad as Bella nods.
“He looked like he was in his forties, his hair was greying and he had a huge burn scar on his right arm, like all up it. He was keeping us in the woods. It sounds really cliche now that I say it out loud. He’d moved us around a bit before he found this old abandoned cabin on the outskirts of the city. He managed to get power and water so he figured we could just stay out there, like some delusional family or something.” Bella says, and Angela immediately picks up on her choice of words.
“I’m sorry, you said ‘us’. Was there someone else?” Angela enquires, glancing up from her notebook.
“Yeah, there was another woman, she might’ve been in her thirties? The guy kept calling her ‘Vivian’ but I’m guessing that wasn’t her name.” Bella explains with a nod while Angela pulls her phone out of her pocket, hurriedly scrolling through it and finding a picture with you in.
“This other woman. Did she look like this?” Angela flips the phone around, showing Bella the picture, watching as her eyes widen in recognition.
“Yes! That’s her!” Bella exclaims, looking over at Angela.
“She’s alive,” Angela mutters to herself, unable to believe the news.
“Do you know her?” Bella asks, noticing Angela’s reaction and how hurriedly she was typing into her phone.
“She’s a friend of mine. She’s been missing for a while.” Angela says, tucking her phone away as she talks.
“She’s the one who helped me escape. She saw the opportunity and she encouraged me to go for it.” Bella says, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.
“That sounds like y/n. She always looked out for others.” Angela says with fondness, remembering how you had always put others above yourself.
“I want to help her,” Bella says, a strong, newfound determination in her voice.
“Can you recall where the cabin was? If you can that would help us track her down.” Angela asks, listening carefully as Bella explains all the details she can remember of her escape from that cabin. After getting as many details as Bella could remember, Angela excused herself, exiting the room and immediately calling Grey on her way out, informing him of everything and letting him know that he and the LAPD needed to act fast before you were moved again.
Back at the Mid-Wilshire police station, police officers were starting to prepare for an operation on the outskirts of Los Angeles just as Lucy and Tim entered, ushering their recent arrest to be processed. They quickly became aware of the atmosphere around them so while Lucy was processing the arrest, Tim stepped out to find Grey.
“What’s going on?” Tim asks after tracking down Grey.
“I’m getting some people together for an operation. But I need you and Officer Chen to stay on patrol.” Grey says, gathering his war bags and barely glancing Tim’s way.
“I want to help,” Tim says, confused as to why Grey isn’t letting him get involved with an operation, not when he had as much experience as he did.
“This isn’t a matter to discuss Officer Bradford. You’re one of my best patrol officers and I need you out on the streets with Officer Chen while we do this. Is that understood?” Grey asserts, facing Tim and staring him down as Tim straightens up.
“Understood, Sir,” Tim says, feeling his heart sink at not getting to be involved with an operation.
“You’ll get in on the next operation,” Grey says, clapping Tim on the shoulder quickly before making his way towards his shop, leaving Tim to head back to Lucy, finding her after she had just finished processing their arrest.
“Hey, did you find out what everyone’s doing?” Lucy asks, looking up at Tim curiously.
“There’s an operation going down. I don’t know what it’s for but Grey wants us on patrol.” Tim says with a shrug, beginning to turn on his heel and make his way towards their shop, annoyance evident in in his body language.
“Do they know this would be a great learning opportunity for me? I want to get as much experience in operations as possible. Why aren’t they letting us help?” Lucy asks, following behind Tim.
“I don’t know, Boot. But it’s not my place to challenge Sergeant Grey’s orders.” Tim says firmly, glancing over his shoulder at Lucy who nods, still obviously upset about not getting to help with an operation while she’s still in training.
“Come on, get in. We’ve got a patrol to finish.” Tim then says with a shrug, both of them reaching the shop and getting in, ready to continue their patrol.
After a couple of hours of patrolling, Tim and Lucy had stopped to grab some coffee and while they stood outside their shop, talking and sipping at their drinks, Tim’s phone rang, making his eyebrows furrow when he saw Angela’s name displayed across his screen.
“Angela.” Tim greets as the phone reaches his ear.
“Tim, you need to get your ass to the hospital right now,” Angela says, making Tim raise an eyebrow before he thinks of a reason why she’d be asking him to come to the hospital.
“Are you having the baby already?” Tim asks, a panicked expression crossing his face.
“What? No. Look, just come to Shaw Memorial as soon as you can.” Angela says, an urgency in her voice that Tim hasn’t heard in a while.
“Okay, I’ll head over now.” Tim concedes, bidding Angela goodbye before hanging up the phone and shoving it away in his pocket.
“We’re going to the hospital. And no Angela is not giving birth.” Tim says, able to predict what Lucy was about to ask from a single look.
“Then why are we going to the hospital?” Lucy then questions, both of them getting into their seats just before Tim starts the drive to the hospital.
“No idea. Maybe one of my C.I’s ended up in hospital and they wanted to talk to me.” Tim says, shrugging lightly, wondering to himself why it was Angela had summoned him to the hospital when she’s not supposed to be working. The closer they get to the hospital, the more Tim starts to suspect that it has something to do with you. Angela had assured him that the only case she was working while on maternity leave was yours. But as he parked in the car park for the hospital, he started to picture the worst possible case scenario as he bursts through the hospital, tracking down Angela within minutes, practically leaving Lucy behind.
“What’s happened?” Tim asks, studying Angela’s expression carefully as she grabs his wrist leading him to a nearby hospital room and letting him look through the window. At the sight, tears immediately began to well in his eyes, stepping forward slightly towards the door before Angela stopped him.
“The doctors are working on her now. They’ll get you when she’s stable. I just wanted to show you that we found her.” Angela explains softly, watching as Tim refuses to tear his gaze away from the window.
“She’s alive,” Tim whispers, tears in his eyes as he watches the doctors hooking you up to an IV drip and heart monitors.
“She is. We found her.” Angela says softly, carefully guiding Tim back to the waiting room and helping him ease himself into a chair just as Lucy finally found the pair.
“What the hell? Why did you leave me behind?” Lucy demands, approaching Tim who barely processes her words, his gaze locked on the floor in front of him as his knee bounces impatiently.
“Not now, Lucy,” Angela says, holding a hand out towards Lucy to silence her while her other hand rests on Tim’s shoulder, squeezing it softly.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Lucy then asks, noticing the unusual behaviour Tim was exhibiting and how Angela was protecting him fiercely.
“We’ll tell you later,” Angela says, knowing that with the state Tim was in, she shouldn’t go spilling his personal life.
After half an hour of waiting, a doctor approached Angela since they only recognised her but she made sure to bring Tim into the conversation as well as make sure the doctors knew he was your husband so that he would make any and all medical decisions that you couldn’t make.
“y/n had been drugged upon being found, I assume something that was something done so that the perpetrator could move her without the risk of her running away. She’s also showing clear signs of dehydration and malnourishment so we’ve got her on IVs to give her what her body needs. She’s still asleep but would you like to see her?” The doctor explains, glancing at the tablet in his hand before looking at Tim who nods. The doctor gestures for Tim to follow him to your room but before he leaves he turns to Angela.
“Message me if you need me,” Angela says softly, watching as he nods once more before following the doctor and being granted access to your room. As soon as he enters the room, he grabs a chair and pulls it up along your bedside, one hand taking your hand in his while his other hand runs through your hair.
“I’m here, Baby. I’m so sorry. I love you.” Tim says, repeating the three sentences like a mantra as he squeezes your hand softly. He felt more tears welling in his eyes as he took in your form. Your cheeks were hollowed and you had dark circles under your eyes. The more Tim watched you as you slept, the worse his guilt got. He couldn’t help but hate himself more and more for letting you leave the house that night. As the day progressed, Tim found himself uncharacteristically talkative with you, rambling about everything you had missed.
“I’ve got a new rookie. Her name’s Lucy Chen. You’d like her a lot actually. She reminds me of you in a way.” Tim says, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand as he talks. He knew you and Lucy would get on well. After all, Lucy was someone who was unafraid to speak her mind around Tim and you’d admire her fire. By the time night fell, Tim was sure he’d covered everything that had happened since you had gone missing. He felt a yawn slip past his lips which made him attempt to shake the sleepiness off. He didn’t want to fall asleep and then risk waking up to find out that this had been a dream. He couldn’t bare to wake up to find you missing again. However, as the night progressed, Tim got more and more tired and he began to struggle to keep his eyes open so he laid his head down on your bed, making sure he was facing up at you, keeping your hand in his the whole time before letting his eyes slip closed, hoping this wasn’t all a dream.
You woke up slowly in the early hours of the morning and as you slowly open your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile tearily when you recognised the sleeping face of your husband. The face you had dreamed of seeing for years. You watched Tim quietly for a moment, admiring the man you loved so much before your need to talk to him overtook you and you squeezed his hand softly, rousing him almost instantly. His eyes blinked open and you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
“Hey, Tim.” You whisper softly, your voice slightly hoarse from lack of use. Tim couldn’t even bring himself to talk, he just squeezed your hand, tears welling in his own eyes.
“You’ve grown your hair out a bit.” You observe quietly, gently extracting your hand from his to run your hand through his hair, having been used to his shorter haircut for too long.
“You like it?” Tim asks with a teary laugh.
“I love it. I did always tell you it would look nicer if you grew it out a little.” You muse softly, enjoying the feeling of running your hand through his hair with the slight added length. As another tear rolls down your cheek, Tim reaches out and wipes it away, his touch as soft and as gentle as you remembered it.
“I’m so sorry, Baby. I let you down.” Tim apologises, his hand lingering on your cheek as you lean into his touch, desperately craving the love and comfort only Tim could provide you with.
“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who left that night.” You say, slowly retracting your hand from Tim’s hair, returning it to your lap as Tim shakes his head.
“I should’ve stopped you.” Tim argues, making you shake your head in response.
“You couldn’t have known, Tim. Look, let’s not argue. We haven’t seen each other in years I don’t want to ruin this by arguing. It’s no ones fault but the ass who took me.” You say, your voice soft yet firm as Tim nods lightly in understanding.
“I missed you so much.” Tim then whispers, his face displaying every emotion he was feeling in the moment.
“I missed you too.” You reply softly. Glad you were reunited with your husband again.
After a few days stay in hospital, you had finally been cleared to go home which you were excited for. Your days in the hospital were mostly spent talking to lawyers and detectives to get all the evidence needed for the case against your kidnapper. But Tim had all but refused to leave your side through it all, and some of your friends came to visit you after news had spread that you had been found. You even got to meet Tim’s newest rookie, Lucy, who like Tim predicted, you got on brilliantly with. And while you had appreciated people wanting to visit you, and that the detectives and lawyers wanted to get that guy behind bars as soon as possible. But you just wanted to go home, to spend some time with Tim in the comfort of your own house, as well as getting to know the family member you had missed the arrival of. When Tim had told you about Kojo, he had not missed the way your eyes lit up and he knew it was going to be love at first sight for both you and Kojo. After all the paperwork had been sorted and Tim had brought you a comfy change of clothes from home, you finally headed out to Tim’s truck, letting him help you into the vehicle and settling in to the passenger seat.
The drive back to yours and Tim’s shared house was relatively silent, you listened to what was on the radio and occasionally chatted with Tim until he pulled into the driveway. You waited upon Tim’s orders for him to round the truck and open the door for you, helping you out carefully before leading you to the front door.
“Are you ready?” Tim asks softly, hand interlocked with yours as you both stand in front of the door, staring it down before you nod lightly, giving Tim the sign he needed to unlock the front door, easing it open and ushering both you and him inside, quickly coming face to face with Kojo.
“Hey, you must be Kojo. Tim’s told me all about you. I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself to the dog, watching his reaction carefully as he approaches you, sniffing at your outstretched hand for a few seconds before gently licking your hand and allowing you to pet him.
“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest boy?” You praise, petting Kojo happily while Tim jokingly rolls his eyes.
“It took less than a minute for me to be replaced by the dog.” Tim jokes, making his way into the kitchen to grab some drinks and by the time he returned, you had curled up on the sofa with Kojo and Tim couldn’t help but smile at the sight of having you home again. After placing the drinks on the coffee table, Tim sat down on your other side and wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you into him and pressing multiple kisses to the side of your head as you smile softly, cherishing the attention and love Tim was giving you.
By the time night fell, you were ready to crash and Tim knew it. He chose to carry you to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed and finding one of his old police academy shirts he knew you loved to wear and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, handing them to you before turning around to get changed himself. When you were both ready for bed, you climbed under the covers while Kojo curled up at the foot of the bed. You instantly curled into Tim’s side, burying your face in his chest.
“I’ve missed this so much.” You mumbled, smiling to yourself when Tim tightens his grip around your waist.
“Me too. I love you so much.” Tim whispers, kissing the top of your head before you tipped your head up so Tim could press the softest of kisses upon your lips.
“I love you too.” You reply softly, eyes full of love as you look up at Tim before curling back into him, quickly falling asleep in his arms the way you had been dreaming off the past few years.
In the middle of the night, Tim stirred, aware of the way the two of you had shifted throughout the night. You were now lying with your back to Tim and his arm was wrapped around your middle but he quickly withdrew it when he noticed you twitching and crying in your sleep. He instantly knew you were having a nightmare so he flicked his bedside lamp on and reached out to gently rouse you, placing his hand on your shoulder and calling your name softly until you bolted upright, eyes wide open and tears staining your cheeks.
“y/n. Baby. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” Tim says softly, his hand reaching down to hold yours, his actions only stopping when you practically curled into him instantly, changing his action from holding your hand to holding your sobbing, shaking form instead. Tim continued to reassure you and comfort you quietly, his hand rubbing up and down your back while Kojo rested his head on your leg, whining softly in his own way to comfort you. Tim then began to coach you through slowing your breathing, using techniques you had used when he suffered with nightmares and when you began to calm down, he began to wipe your tears away.
“I thought I was really back in that cabin.” You admit with a sniffle, making Tim hold you closer, taking your hand in his and placing it above his heart.
“You feel that? I’m here and so are you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.” Tim promises quietly as you focus on the steady thumping of his heartbeat while your other hand reached down to pet Kojo softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologise, pulling away with your eyes still shining with tears as Tim shakes his head.
“Don’t apologise. I’m going to be here for you when you need me to. I’m your husband and after what you went through I’d be a shit excuse of a husband if I did anything but look after you when you needed me. Don’t ever apologise for having a nightmare. I love you and I’m going to help you through this.” Tim says, pulling you back into his arms and feeling you settle your head perfectly above his heart so you could focus on his heartbeat once again.
“I love you too.” You mumble, soothed by Tim’s repeated action of running his hand up and down your back as well as his melodic heartbeat and soon your eyes slipped closed again. In the arms of the love of your life and feeling safe for the first time in years.
Tim watched you sleep peacefully for a few minutes, just to make sure no nightmares tried to attack you again as you slept but after not as much as a twitch, Tim switched his lamp off and cuddled you closer as he let himself drift off to sleep. You were finally back where you belonged. And Tim wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you again.
Summary: You are Tim's wife and join him to the station for the day, looking for a Metro recruit.
Fluff
A/N: I loooove this, I start to love writing fluff. Thank you for this request. I have so many ideas and I don't know where to start. Also, I'm looking forward to your requests. Thank you for your support and your feedback is more than welcomed and appreciated! Have a wonderful day, bubs and enjoy this story! Lots of love
Warnings: None, pure fluff, not proofread yet
Requested: Yes!
Words: 3.8k
Photo not mine, credits to the owner @renegadesstuff !
The familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink hits you as soon as you step through the doors of the station. It's been years since you last set foot in that place, but the memories come rushing back with startling clarity. The station hasn't changed much—it's still a hive of activity, with officers rushing to and fro, phones ringing off the hook, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the halls.
As you make your way through the bustling room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This place holds so many memories for you—the late nights spent poring over case files, the adrenaline-fueled chases through the city streets, the quiet moments of comradery with your fellow officers. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as ever.
You pause for a moment to take it all in, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bullpen, with its rows of desks and cluttered bulletin boards, holds a special place in your heart. It's where you once stood as a training officer, guiding rookies through their first days on the job.
Tim Bradford was your favorite and a handful from the start—a troubled rookie who struggled to follow orders and grasp the basics of the job. You remember the frustration of trying to teach him the ropes, the countless hours spent drilling him on the rookie book, only for him to push back and resist at every turn.
You remember the determination in Tim's eyes, the way he refused to give up even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And despite his rebellious nature, there was something about him—a spark of raw talent and an unwavering sense of loyalty—that set him apart from the rest.
But amidst the nostalgia, there's a sense of purpose driving you forward. You're here on official business, after all— you were sent there to find a new recruit to join Metro. And while part of you wishes you could stay lost in the memories of the past, another part knows that you have a job to do.
You're greeted by familiar faces at every turn. The joy radiating from your former colleagues as they see you again warms your heart, and you can't help but return their smiles with genuine affection.
Among the crowd, you notice Tim watching you from across the room, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. You shoot him a reassuring smile, silently promising to explain everything later.
Lucy stands beside Tim, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Who's that?" she whispers to Tim, nodding in your direction.
Tim's brow furrows for a moment as he studies you, then he turns back to Lucy with a shrug. "That's Y/N," he answers simply. "She works with Metro."
Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Tim. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.
Tim gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "No clue," he replies, though a hint of curiosity lingers in his tone. "Maybe she's just passing through."
As Tim watches you from across the room, a wave of warmth washes over him. Seeing you here, in the midst of his workplace, brings back a flood of memories—of late-night patrols, of shared laughter, of the bond you forged as rookie and TO. Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, his attention is drawn solely to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your beauty.
It's an understatement that he adores you. He loves you with every breath, every heart beat and he couldn't get enough of you. Since you were recruited for Metro, he missed you every shift, longing for you to make his duties more bearable.
There's a softness in his eyes as he approaches, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the secrecy surrounding your relationship, seeing you there fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the station, all that matters is the connection you share—a bond that transcends the boundaries of your professional lives.
"Hey there," he greets you warmly, "What are you doing here?"
Seeing him there, in his element, reminds you of the journey you've taken together—from a rookie and his training officer to partners in both crime and love.
You return Tim's smile with one of your own, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by and say hi," you reply casually, purposely avoiding his question. "How's your day been?"
There's a twinkle in your eye as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the love and understanding that binds you together. Despite the complexities of your situation, there's an unspoken agreement between you—a shared understanding of the sacrifices you've made for the sake of your relationship.
Tim chuckles at your playful evasion, rolling his eyes. "Smooth as always," he replies, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"
You feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at Tim with exaggerated sweetness. "You know I can't tell you." you tease, knowing full well that your response will only fuel his curiosity further.
Tim lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, keep your secrets," he says with a playful grin. "But just remember, I know where you sleep at night."
You laugh at his playful threat, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it," you reply with a wink, before turning your attention to Lucy, who's been watching the exchange with interest.
A curious expression played on her face as Tim takes the opportunity to introduce you. "Officer Chen, meet Y/N," he says, gesturing to you with a fond smile. "She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if you ignore her, she's ok."
"Nice to meet you, Lucy," you say, your tone friendly and inviting as you offered Lucy a warm smile, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you."
Lucy returns your smile, her curiosity piqued. "Nice to meet you," she replies, shaking your hand. "How do you know Tim, if you don't mind me asking?"
You glance at Tim with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, a playful smirk playing at your lips. "Oh, you know," you reply cryptically, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim. "We go way back. Let's just say he owes me a few favors."
Tim lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well that you're enjoying teasing him. "Don't listen to her, Chen," he says with a chuckle.
"You should listen to me if you want to survive him." you winked at his rookie " I created the monster and I'm the only one who knows how to defeat him."
Tim's eyebrows shoot up in mock indignation, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey now, watch it," he retorts, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, she doesn't need any help from you."
You laugh at Tim's exaggerated reaction, shooting him a knowing look. "Oh, I'm sure Lucy can handle herself just fine," you reply with a wink, earning a chuckle from Lucy.
"Wait–" the rookie began as realisation hits "You are Tim's TO?"
You glanced at your husband, smiling brightly as he put his grumpy expression on, "Guilty as charged."
As Lucy's eyes widen in shock and excitement, she can barely contain her enthusiasm. Her mind is racing with questions as she tries to process the realization that she's standing face-to-face with the legendary training officer.
The rookie turns to Tim, her expression incredulous. "You never mentioned her before!" she exclaims.
Tim crossed his arms above his chest, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Because my life is none of your business, Officer Chen," he retorts.
She faced you with a barrage of questions, her enthusiasm didn't wane, "What was Tim like as a rookie? I heard he wasn't so keen on following orders, is it true?"
You smiled at her, starting to like her more and more. She's definitely giving Tim a hard time. What you know from Tim and seeing her so curious and exited, you knew she has what it takes to be a successful cop.
Before you can respond, Tim interrupts, his irritation growing by the second. "Alright, that's enough, Chen," he barks, his tone firm and commanding. "Shop, now!"
"Yes, sir."
Lucy's excitement fades as she reluctantly obeys Tim's orders, shooting you an apologetic look before hurrying off to prepare for the patrol. As she disappears from view, Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, the grumpiness lifting slightly as he turns back to you.
"She seems nice," you comment, nodding towards where Lucy disappeared. "She's a good kid."
Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair as he considers your words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "I know, and I know that sometimes a little kindness goes a long way," you say gently. "She'll appreciate it in the long run."
As Tim gazes at you, a mixture of admiration and gratitude flickers in his eyes. He's more than just a grumpy, hard-to-please man—he's a devoted husband, a dedicated cop, and a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there's a vulnerability in his gaze.
The sun filters through the windows of the station, its golden rays dance across Tim's face, casting a warm glow that accentuates his rugged features. He appears even more handsome in this moment, his chiseled jawline and piercing gaze illuminated by the soft light.
His sandy blonde hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo of golden warmth around his head. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften in the gentle light, revealing a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.
As Tim searched your face, you're bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the sunlight highlighting the delicate contours of your face and the warmth of your smile. Your eyes, a mesmerizing shade, sparkle with mischief and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
He peaked around at the officers, everyone minding their business, before he leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, a gentle yet insistent pressure that ignites a fire deep within your soul.
As the kiss deepens, you feel his other hand slide around your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you melt into his embrace.
His lips move against yours with a hunger that matches your own, each kiss a testament to the love and longing that burns between you. There's a raw intensity to his touch, a desperate need to be as close to you as humanly possible.
For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as you respond eagerly, your heart racing as you lean into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Despite its brevity, the intensity of the moment leaves you dizzy with desire, longing for more even as you reluctantly pull away.
Before the moment can linger, Tim's attention is drawn to something behind you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you realize that Lucy is watching from afar, a curious expression on her face, sided by her mouth forming an "o" shape filled with surprise.
Tim's lips curl into a wry smile as he leans in to murmur in your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like we've got a little shadow," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's gonna be a pain in my ass all day!"
You laugh softly at Tim's comment, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you did sign up for this when you became her TO," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just be nice, okay? She's just curious."
Tim rolls his eyes at your advice, but there's a hint of affection in his gaze as he gazes at you. "Fine, I'll try to play nice," he concedes with a grin. "But no promises if she starts asking too many questions."
As your husband heads off for patrol with Lucy, you find yourself seated across from Sergeant Grey in his office, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the precinct. His office is tidy yet lived-in, with stacks of paperwork neatly organized on his desk and a few personal mementos scattered about—a photo of his family, a commendation plaque from his years of service.
Wade offers you a warm smile as you settle into your seat, "Y/N, it's been a while. Think the last time I saw you was at your wedding?"
You nod in agreement, "It hasn't been that long. But you know Metro, it keeps me busy."
"Well, it's always a pleasure to have you around." Sergeant Grey's words of praise for your time as an officer at the station warm your heart, "You were one of the best we had," he continues, sincerity evident in his tone. "It's a shame to lose you to Metro."
As the conversation progresses, you take a deep breath before broaching the subject of your visit. "Sir, I'm here on official business," you explain, your tone serious. "Metro is recruiting, and I'm here to find the best officer for the job."
Grey nods in understanding, "I see. And do you have anyone in mind?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.
You hesitate for a moment before responding. "Actually, I do," you admit, your gaze meeting his. "I think Officer Bradford would be the best fit for Metro."
He considers your words for a moment before responding. "I have to say, I agree with you, Tim would make an excellent addition to Metro."
There's a hint of hesitation in your eyes as he speaks, and you can tell that he senses there's more to your recommendation than meets the eye. "Is there something else on your mind, Y/N?" he asks, his tone gentle but probing.
You paused, choosing your words carefully before responding. "Well, sir, it's just... I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to recommend Tim," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want it to seem like a conflict of interests."
You found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions. There's a deep-rooted sense of pride your work, coupled with a genuine desire to see Tim succeed in his career.
"Trust me, Y/N, Officer Bradford's qualifications speak for themselves." he leaned back on his chair, "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it from here. We both know you and Tim keep your private life apart, and I'll make sure Metro knows this decision is based solely on Tim's achievements."
Sergeant Grey's words sink in, a rush of relief floods through you, washing away some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at your nerves. It's comforting to know that your integrity as an officer won't be called into question, that your personal connection with Tim won't overshadow his merits.
With a grateful smile, you nod in appreciation, the knot of worry in your stomach loosening with each word he speaks. "Thank you, Sir."
"Now go find your husband!"
In the dimly lit interior of the shop, the tension between Tim and Lucy was palpable. Lucy's curiosity burned bright, fueled by suspicions and unanswered questions.
"So..." Lucy ventured, breaking the uneasy silence. "I saw you and Y/N kissing, back at the station. Is she your girlfriend?"
Tim's jaw clenched at the inquiry, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That's none of your business, Chen," he shot back, his tone gruff.
Lucy persisted, undeterred by his dismissive tone. "Come on, Tim," she pressed. "You can't just brush this off. I obviously know there's something going on between you two."
But Tim remained stoic, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I said it's none of your business," he repeated, his voice terse.
Lucy gaze lingered on him, studying his face. She couldn't read anything but irritation caused by her intrusion into his private life. She searched his hands, no sight of any ring, so the possibility of you being his wife dropped.
"Do you like her?" she insisted.
"What's the proper procedure for securing a crime scene?" he replied to her question, avoiding giving any details about you.
"Come on. You can't avoid this forever. Are you and her just colleagues, or is there something more?"
Tim's irritation simmers beneath the surface, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He had hoped to avoid this line of questioning, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. But Lucy's relentless curiosity had pushed him to his breaking point.
"What's the recommended procedure for securing a firearm during an arrest?"
She couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, knowing deep down that Tim wouldn't give her the answers she sought. Despite her best efforts to uncover the truth about Tim's relationship with you, she found herself hitting a dead end.
"I saw the way you look at her. You have feelings for her?"
"When searching a suspect, what areas of their body should you prioritize for pat-downs?"
"Fine. I'll shut up."
Confusion clouded Lucy's thoughts as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn't understand why Tim was so guarded about his personal life, especially when it came to someone who seemed to hold such significance to him. It left her feeling unsettled, a nagging sense of curiosity gnawing at her.
As he focuses on the road ahead, he can't help but feel annoyed by Lucy's persistence. He knows she means well, but he's not ready to share the intimate details of his relationship with the woman he loves. He just wants to focus on their job, to keep their partnership strictly professional.
As lunchtime approached, the bustling street food area near the station came to life with the sound of chatter and the aroma of sizzling food. Amidst the crowd, you found an empty table, enjoying the inviting atmosphere, with colorful umbrellas providing shade from the midday sun as you waited for Tim.
Your husband approached the table where you were seated, a sense of defeat hung heavy in the air, exhausted from all of his rookie's questions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the connection you shared.
As the conversation turns to you, Tim leans in with a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what were you doing at the station earlier?"
"Metro sent me to find a recruit," you confess, your gaze meeting Tim's.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And did you find one?"
Angela rises from her seat, flashing a smile, "I hate to break up the party, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later."
You nod understandingly, bidding her farewell with a wave as she heads off to resume her patrol.
You return your attention to Tim, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah. You."
Tim's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Me? Are you serious?"
Nyla's figure blended into the bustling crowd as she disappears down the street with her rookie, leaving you and Tim alone.
You give him a knowing smirk. "Dead serious. They've been considering you for a while. Sending me down to the station was just a formality—a test, to see if I was ready for a promotion or something."
"You're getting promoted?"
"Uh-huh."
"That's awesome, babe. I'm proud of you."
As the lunch break comes to an end for Tim, he and his rookie prepare to go on patrol again. They stand by the patrol car, gearing up for their shift.
"Lucy, you're driving," Tim says, tossing her the keys with a grin. "Show me what you got."
Lucy's eyes light up with excitement as she catches the keys, nodding eagerly. "You got it, Officer Bradford. Shotgun!"
While Tim is in the shop, double-checking some equipment, you lean over the car door, catching his attention. "Hey," you say softly, a hint of concern in your voice. "Be safe out there, okay? And have a good time."
Tim gives you a reassuring smile, placing a hand over yours on the door. "Always am, love. Don't worry about me."
Just as the car starts to move, you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper against the noise of the street. "And Tim... I'm pregnant."
Tim's eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected news. You placed a playful kiss on his cheek, before the car pulls away, you watch Tim drive off with a mixture of excitement and fear.
You were scared of his reaction, delivering him the news this way gave you time to process and turn all the possible scenarios upside down.
He meets your gaze one last time before the car disappears down the street, a rush of emotions flooding his mind—joy, excitement, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there's a deep sense of love and gratitude for the life you've created together.
"Did you get your TO pregnant?" Lucy asks, her tone a mixture of surprise and incredulity.
Tim's jaw tightens, a flash of irritation crossing his features at the inappropriate question. He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before responding firmly.
"She's my wife," Tim states, his voice leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, shut up and drive."
He reaches up to where his uniform shirt collar meets his neck, pulling out a small chain with a wedding ring and some dog tags hanging from it. It's a subtle gesture, but one that holds immense significance—a symbol of the most important moments of his life, from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to marrying you.
Lucy's eyes widen in realization, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she realizes her mistake. Without another word, she focuses on the road ahead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Tim sits back in his seat, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Despite the initial shock, a sense of pride and excitement fills him at the prospect of becoming a father. And as the patrol car speeds through the city streets, Tim's thoughts are consumed with thoughts of the future.
SUMMARY: you've been giving your TO a hard time after having enough of his rude demeanour, it's time he puts you in your place.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i've finally awakened from my 4 year coma so sorry if my writing is a bit rusty xoxo. been binging the rookie like there's no tomorrow and h2g it was love at first sight with tim. there isn't enough tim bradford smut on here so i took it upon myself to feed you all. also highly inspired by tate mcrae's new song '2 hands' ( obvi ) so definitely give that a listen while you read this. let me know how i went! this is literally such filthy, dirty smut so please enjoy <3 please.
WORDS: 6.5K+
To say you were exhausted would be a fair statement. Working this type of job wasn't for everyone, however, despite the disapproval from your parents, it was exactly what you wanted to. There was an unconditional passion rooted within your heart to serve and protect the community and the people around you. Your need to care, to help and to lead with grace and strength is how you found yourself landing the job at the LAPD as their newest 'rookie'.
And there was nothing more humbling than that. You hated being at the bottom of the food chain, and even worse, you hated your training officer.
Tim Bradford.
Mind the fact that his biceps looked like they could crush your head, or his height towered over your frame- he was an asshole. The past days on the job have been full of nothing but 'Tim Tests'. From yelling at you in front of a scene of drug dealers and other police officers because you held your coffee cup in your gun hand, to demanding you jump in every garbage bin there was in LA's alleyways and search for someone's stolen handbag that a robber cockily insisted on not telling which bin he dumped it in after you'd caught him. The bastard wouldn't even let you choose where to eat for lunch- and made you pay for it!
You understood that niceties often had to take a backseat during shifts requiring authority and order, but you respected your badge and the power it came with. You couldn't help it- you were a really caring person.
But Tim's hard-headed demeanour was threatening against your kind nature. His lingering and glaring stares burned into your skull, he ignored you half the time you even try to bring anything happy up, he forbade calling you by your first name, rolled his eyes more at every opportunity, clenched his jaw whenever you opened you spoke, and he degraded you relentlessly- he talked down on you like you were his little pet he never asked for.
Well newsflash, he did ask for it when he assigned his role as a TO and you were most certainly not an animal.
But, when pushed too far, you were a brat.
By now, this so-called partnership had worn your patience thin. You were frustrated, angry and exhausted- your forehead doubled the wrinkles on it from frowning so much and your chirpy and sweet attitude had been sapped away, leaving hostility and irritation.
When you woke up that morning, you were ready to bite back at Tim.
So when you arrived at work, the sight of your baked goods delighted everyone in the office. You’d passed out gooey chocolate chip cookies - still warm from your early morning baking session - before roll call. I mean, who could resist? The welcoming sweetness brought smiles to every face, and you relished the lighthearted start to the day.
From his sit, Tim noticed the pleasure you took in spreading cheer, along with the officers’ enthusiastic reactions to your cookies. His curiosity - or maybe hunger - eventually led him to approach you at your rookie desk. But just as he reached for the container, you snapped the lid shut, cutting him off.
He frowned, looking from the closed contained to you, "Can I not have one?"
"No," You replied bluntly, "There's only two left, and I would hate to not save one for Sarg."
He scoffed, "I'm your TO, boot, I think I deserve it. What about the other one? Can't I have that?"
You shrugged, doing your best to hide the laughter bubbling up as you noticed how ridiculously offended he looked, "Also no. This one's for me." And, just to drive the point home, you picked up the cookie and ever so slowly bit into it, dragging out a moan without breaking eye contact.
Tim’s expression darkened, his distaste evident- but so was something else. He stared, lips parted slightly, as you licked your lips and fluttered your eyelashes. Then, to top it off, you hummed- a small, satisfied sound that made his cock twitch in his pants.
He shuddered, alarmed by his reaction. No, you were far too young for him, too gentle, too kind. And he was your TO for fuck sake's, he had no business thinking about you like this.
Before he could do anything he regretted, he broke eye contact and stormed back to his desk just in time as Sergeant Grey walked in.
Sergeant beamed at the last cookie on your desk, "Officer Y/L/N, is that for me?"
"Of course, Sir," You replied rather sweetly, giving Tim one last daring look over your shoulder, "I saved it just for you."
Oh, Tim was pissed. But now he was pissed and aroused.
━━ ✩*ೃ.⋆ ━━
You couldn't deny it, you were having way too much fun messing with Tim like this. Who knew giving him a taste of his own medicine could be so rewarding to watch?
Ever since you two set the shop up for the day, you'd kept your lips tight and thin, stickly stricly to business. No personal chatter, just responses to the police radio and discussing plans when you were on scene.
Tim glanced over at you, his voice low as he drove, "Don't think you've ever been this quiet before."
You kept your eyes trained on the front view of the shop, scanning for any anomalies that appeared in your vision. You were aware of him starting a conversation, but clearly didn't care enough to respond. To go against your persona was harder than you thought, but your rebellious streak only showed itself when you were pushed to the limit. And, well, Tim had definitely done that.
Your blatant ignorance seethed your TO as his voice sliced through the air, "Boot, you ignoring me?"
You couldn't help yourself as your rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically, turning to glare back at him, "No, sissy, just doing my job looking for criminals. Did you not want me to?"
Sissy.
He slammed the shop to a screeching halt, his body radiating heat as his anger surged. He spun towards you and shoved a finger to your face, "One- that's Sir to you. And two, you roll your eyes at me again and I'll give you a reason to. I don't know where the fuck this attitude has come from and you should be damn grateful I haven't written you up by saying that. Your shitty behaviour ends after this shift. Do you understand?"
His intimation was not to be fucked with- you were smart to know that. Stone cold gaze, clenched jaw, knitted eyebrows, and his heavy breath warmed your lungs. You let out a shaky breath with how close his face was to yours, your heart wrote a million love letters per millisecond with how much it thumped in your chest.
For a moment, you flickered your eyes to his lips, hoping you might feel how soft they are in this lifetime.
Before you could speak, the Police radio cut through the tension, "7-Adam-19, welfare check?"
Tim didn't dare to drop his gaze at you as he picked up the radio, his voice steady, "7-Adam-19, we're clear." And as he put the radio back down he leaned back into his seat, "Right, boot? Are we clear?"
You bit your lip, irritation rising at the mockery in his voice, "Yes, Sir."
However, despite getting under his skin you had no hesitation to stop.
━━ ✩*ೃ.⋆ ━━
Sergeant Grey offered overtime for you and Tim to keep patrol on the outer borders of a massive drug deal happening in a quiet, family-oriented neighbourhood. Border Patrol meant long, late hours of surveillance, ensuring no one slipped through the cracks. For you, it meant hours in the cramped patrol car with Tim- hours of silence that felt like an eternity.
Camouflaged within the bushes and hidden off the road, you impatiently twiddled with your hands as you did your best to stay alert.
The thick air illuminated an immense tension between you and the man who hadn't moved ever since he parked the shop. The weight of the situation only heightened your adrenaline, and while nothing happened it was only a matter of time, and that electrified every nerve in your body.
You were shaking, and while it wasn't that cold, there was an obvious feeling that overwhelmed your body. I mean, this man, he was a force to be reckoned with. Regardless of all the mischievous moves you had put against him, it was like you were the one getting a reaction of it the most. You couldn't help it, Tim was bossy and you squirmed at the previous events today that proved just how much power he had over you.
Truth was, you weren't the only one feeling this way.
Despite Tim's steady manner, his brain was a storm that he had no control over. He was confused. Tim had only ever seen you as an angel who was too sweet for the job. You were gentle, and divine. You were young and pure- a good girl as he would put it. He assumed you were too delicate for the job and he honestly didn't think you'd last this long with how much you were exposed to.
However today, you showed him a side he didn't even think existed. You were testing him, biting back, really getting on his level. Your disobedience rather interested him, turned him on. His pants were tightened all day from how hard he had been fighting a semi just from the bold looks you gave him- the ignition in your eyes daring him to make a move, the way you moaned, your ragged breathing. How dare you sit next to him with your clothes on?
Tim gritted his teeth, the anticipation was loud and his resistance to put a stop to whatever you two had was fading away.
His eyes flickered toward you, catching you tapping your fingers, your leg bouncing in agitation. But you kept your gaze straight ahead.
Tim sparked up, "Quit it. You're not making the shift go by any faster." However, he became distracted as he scanned the tools in front of him before he cursed under his breath, "Shit, the binoculars are in the trunk of the car. Go grab them for me, boot."
You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your head slightly to look at him. If it was any other day you would have bowed your head and gotten it for him within seconds. However, today was different. And you felt the rush of defiance surge in you, "Why don’t you just grab them yourself?"
In the midst of fiddling through the equipment to look for it or a spare, Tim halted. And ever so slowly, he lifted his head with a stern gaze at you, "I wasn't asking, that was an order. Get the binoculars. Now."
You leaned back into your seat, arms crossed, refusing to move as you couldn't help but feel you were tempted to push further, "Make me."
Make me. Make me. Make me.
And with that, all of Tim's walls built to constrain any tempted thoughts about you collapsed just by those two words.
His eyes darkened right at you as he took a deep breath, “Get out of the car.”
“What-“
“I didn’t fucking stutter, you brat, get out.” And you didn’t know whether his comment scared you or excited you. What you did know was that something was going to happen.
Reluctantly, and with one last look into Tim’s black eyes, you opened the door and stepped outside. What should be a refreshing breath of air in the dark night ultimately deepened your anxiety and excitement. You noticed from afar the grey clouds coming close to your area heavy with rain as the wind blew gently as a warning.
You were grasping onto the fear of the unknown where no moon nor stars could offer any sign of the future to come after this very moment. After tonight, nothing would ever be the same.
After noticing your obedience as you nervously placed yourself outside, obviously putting your back against him, Tim took one last exhale.
Was he already regretting what he was about to do? No. Was it wrong? Very.
But his heart and throbbing cock gave his head no other choice, so he stepped foot out of his door and began to walk over to your side where his stern face met your surprised one, “Open the back door.” Tim looked down at you, his luminous figure overshadowing your small one to physically belittle you between the shop and him.
Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl, every second charged with anticipation, every single movement deliberate.
With one last look up at his calm physique, you swallowed, turning to face the car as you fumbled for the handle.
It’s crazy how your loss of vision can heighten your other senses because even though you factually knew Tim was behind you, a gasp still escaped your mouth when his warm body temperature tickled the skin at the back of your neck. His controlled breath was steady by your ear- close enough that he could probably hear your erratic one and the imbalanced heartbeat that followed.
“From now on, you will call me Sir. You will not make a single noise that could get us caught in this neighbourhood, and you will listen to my orders. If you do so much as speak without my permission, you will be punished. Do you understand me, boot?” Tim’s voice was barely audible, but it had an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine.
The tension between you both was suffocating, but you couldn’t pull away. This was your moment of choice, to assert your boundaries, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering, “Yes, Sir.”
Tim’s hand rested on your shoulder, steady but firm. “Good,” he hummed, before his gaze swept around the area to make sure there weren’t any wandering eyes before he turned you around.
You looked so gorgeous like this- wide eyes luring up at him and for a split second Tim almost forgot that you weren't a fun fling where kissing was deemed acceptable; you were his rookie who needed a punishment. Which meant you had to earn to feel his lips and with all that you'd done today, you had a lot to prove, “I want you to get on your knees so I can shut that loud mouth of yours with my cock. Got it?”
Fuck, this is really happening.
“Yes, Sir.” Your thoughts raced at the same time the blood in your veins pumped as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor, grounding your hands within the grass to remind yourself that the reality you were imagining was the reality you were currently living in.
You were here on your knees at the mercy of your TO.
And to think you felt small standing next to him.
Despite the vulnerability of the situation, you were grateful for the shop’s side door being left open, as it shielded you just enough from view. If anything, Tim was the more exposed one, his head peeking out from above the doorframe, exposed to any curious eyes. You knew the risks all too well- if anyone were to see what was happening behind this door, both of your careers would be on the line.
However, your intimidation was overshadowed by your small sense of pride at the sight of his hard lengthened cock exposing itself beneath his pants. Good, he was enjoying this just as much as you.
Your large exhale became your cue to lift your hands to his big belt. You unbuckled it with shaky fingers as you then reached to the button of his pants. You quickly glanced up at Tim, searching for any uncertainty from him. However, when you found his dark expression staring back at you, you proceeded to remove layer by layer until you found yourself gaping at what you could only imagine Tim’s bodily way of pleading for a release. You held his cock in your hands as you watched it leak pre-cum from his irritated pink tip, the veins bulging from underneath and fuck, he was massive.
Being so intrigued blocked your awareness of how long you were taking until you felt a large hand carefully cascade down your head, Tim’s fingers wrapped around the base of your ponytail before he roughly deepened his cock into your mouth. While you stayed like that for a few seconds, your shock woke your reflexes up and so you couldn’t stop yourself from the gag that escaped. From above, you swore you heard Tim hitch his breath, and then soothe out his exhale like he had held himself back from making noise.
He couldn't help it- you were magical. The wet gliding of your tongue against his frenulum and veins were sending shudders through his body, and your warm mouth that coated his cock made him want to keep you there forever.
Tim guided your head back out only to then tighten his grip in your hair and push you back to his cock so you were deep-throating him. With a few pumps, Tim was able to find a rhythm as he began to fuck your face, ultimately deepening his cock so far your nose was pressed against his skin.
Of course, he was a well groomed man. You couldn’t imagine the man above you not looking after his physique.
Despite the harsh movements where your mascara dampened against your cheeks and tears brimmed your eyes, saliva dribbling down your chin, your hair a mess and cheeks rosy, you were enjoying yourself. No one’s ever played with you like this, any intimacy you had ever received was too gentle, too caring.
Not Tim. God, no.
Tim was dominant, clearly proving that to you the first day you met him as your TO and sure, you hated the guy, but the important part was that you didn’t now. In fact, you really, really liked what he was doing to you. And so you couldn’t help but to hum around him as you battered your wet eyelashes up at him.
Tim abruptly held you on his cock again with a firm grip on your hair and he thew his head back as you moaned again, exhaling out a quiet fuck to the gloomy night sky. Using all his might to not let his control slip and just fuck you right here, right now, he glanced down at your teary, pretty face, “Fucking hell, you’re not supposed to be enjoying a punishment, you brat.”
You pulled your mouth away, “Give me something worse then, this punishment is boring.”
It felt as though Mother Nature herself responded to Tim’s fury, a crack of thunder rumbling through the neighbourhood as he glared down at you, his eyes burning with intensity.
"Get up," He commanded.
“Gladly,” You mumbled under your breath.
He snapped his gaze at you and lifted an eyebrow as he tucked his throbbing cock back into his pants, “What did you say?”
You dusted the grass off your legs, “Nothing, Sir.”
“Better have been nothing,” He knew damn well what you said, “bend over on the seat.”
Despite giving you orders, Tim took it upon himself to yank both of your wrists and hold them behind your back, and he pushed you down so your face and chest were planted on the leather seat. With this position, you gave Tim a perfect view of your ass which he was most definitely going to utilise not long after he got you into the metal handcuffs clanking against the wind.
Rain began to drip above you two as Tim’s fingers glided to the front of your waist where he began to unbuckle your belt, blindly. He released a frustrated groan as he struggled to pull your pants down.
You couldn’t help but snicker, “Having some troubl- Ow!” You gasped at the feel of his rough hand against your bare ass.
“I told you if you spoke without permission, you were gonna be punished,” His raspy voice almost fading into the rain, “You’re getting ten on each side. Count.”
And so for each smack, the rain grew heavier along with Tim’s pressure, causing the wetness of the water against your soft skin to cause ever worse friction. Yet, with shaky legs and gritted teeth you still counted.
Lucky for you two, the hard rain silenced the smacks that could’ve easily echoed throughout the neighbourhood. After each smack, Tim could hear each whimper you cried out and he couldn't help a small part of him that would soothe the irritated skin with his hand lightly to lessen the sting.
Tim didn’t want to care. But he'd never admit it in that moment that he actually did.
But while you have a gorgeous ass and pretty skin, he sadistically couldn’t help the moan that slipped pass his lips at the stinging red hand marks brightening on your cheeks.
“Twenty,” You puffed out, your tears wetting the seat under you as Tim dragged you back up to stand again, turning you around so you faced him.
As he began to unlock you from the handcuffs, he hummed, “Now was that a better punishment?” He fought to suppress the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips from how you were glaring at him and your tears blotching your face.
“Yes, Sir.” You muttered and sniffled, rubbing your stinging wrists and refusing to look up at him nor the rain that was just finishing up as it only now produced a light shower to your overheated body. Sure, you were okay to be angry at him for belittling you like that and physically marking you as his, especially because your pants were still down. But you both knew that you were asking for it.
And who’s to say you didn’t like it?
Tim took control, his large hand gripping your chin to force your gaze to meet his. He was soaked to the bone, but the sight of him was undeniably handsome- his hair darker from the water, his lashes clinging wet. If it weren’t for the jacket he wore, you might’ve been given the privilege of seeing his broad chest and biceps flexing beneath his shirt, “Good, bend over again for me, boot. ”
Wasting no time, you turned back around and bent down again where now that your hands were free, you laid your arms underneath your chin, resting your head there. However, the silence behind you unsettled your nerves again and you wished the rain would come back again to fill that void. Expecting the worse like another round of twenty, you clenched your fists and shut your eyes tight.
Tim thought about it, but as he stood there he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down to your vulnerable wet pussy glistening against the moonlight’s shine, and just the sight of it made his cock twitch and he suppressed a groan.
So while you were impatiently waiting for the punishment to further on, you gasped as Tim lightly traced his finger from your hole to your clit. He elicited this a few times, exciting you to get wetter with every second of his touch on you.
“I think after taking that punishment so well you deserve a little reward. Don’t you think, boot?” When he opened his mouth to speak, you didn’t notice how close he was to you until his hot breath fanned over your ear.
You fluttered your eyes shut as your TO began to trace again, teasing your clit a little more as he circled it, “I agree, Sir.”
“Look at me.”
You bit down on your lip to hide your moan when he wouldn’t stop tracing your clit, slowly turning your head so you could just see him.
His eyes darkened further as he looked down at you, his jaw tight and his breathing heavy, yet measured, “Boot, who does this pussy belong to?”
Right, of course he wanted you to look at him as you answered. After all, he was an egotistical bastard willing to degrade you at any given chance- he was constantly reminding you who was in charge here.
With his finger just hovering over your hole, your throat tightened and you could feel the blush crawling up your neck, burning your skin, “Yours, Sir.”
His gaze locked with yours and he smirked, “Good girl. Let me know when you’re close.” And he pushed a finger in.
You couldn’t stop the mewl that slipped out of your lips as you broke contact to rest your forehead down against your arms. Tim’s long finger penetrating your delicate area was refreshing after everything you just went through.
Tim couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the noises you were trying your hardest to keep quiet from him, “You should see how pretty you look, boot. Fuck, you’re coating my fingers,” He murmured as he continued to finger you with just one digit, admiring the way your walls fluttered against him and how you wriggled around him as if you were yearning for more, for something bigger.
Of course you were, but that was for later.
“Just for you, Sir.” You breathed out, and it was only when Tim added an extra finger and used his other hand to circle your clit did you really struggle to hold back your moans and neediness. A familiar tingle in your abdomen formed as you bit down on your arm to quit your noises.
The area was quiet except for the sound of yours and his breathing, the light rain just a pitter-patter as both of your emotions hung in between you two. Despite the lack of eye contact, you didn't need to see to know Tim was watching you with heavy eyes. His fingers moved with precision as they slipped between your folds and your pulse quickened at the steady pace he created, hitting just the right places.
Sweat formed on your face. You were way too hot. You felt his presence all around yourself- his warmth, his breath, his touch. But you gave into the heat, into him and you couldn't move away. You refused to, not when you were so close.
Remembering Tim's orders, you waited until you were seconds away from orgasming as you quietly panted, "Fuck, I'm coming."
So just when you nearly felt yourself climaxing, Tim pulled his fingers away.
And just like that, any build up you concentrated gathering dissolved before your shut eyes. You quickly opened them and you whipped your head around, your shocked expression meeting his apathetic one, "W-What? Why did you stop?"
"Because you can wait," His response cold as he pushed your head back down into the seat.
Asshole.
Your mind was running you dizzy. You were frustrated, sexually frustrated and needy. You wanted more, and Tim found pleasure watching you squirm for more. However, you stopped your racing thoughts when you heard Tim's zipper from behind and a shiver trembled within your bones when you felt the tip of his cock hover just gently at your hole.
"You’ve been testing me all day,” Your TO said finally, his voice low and rough as he drew circles into your waist, “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing?”
You suppressed your whimper when his cock toyed at your entrance, "Fuck, Sir I-" But what could you even say? He was right. You’d pushed him, knowing full well the risk. And now, you were paying for it.
The heat of his body was overwhelming, his scent-earthy, masculine, and something darker filling your senses. It was intoxicating, and you hated how much you wanted to drown in it.
“I should make you apologise,” he murmured as he pushed in and shit, he hadn't even filled you up yet and you felt the overwhelming stretch already fogging your brain, “For your attitude. For your disobedience.”
Your wetness engulfed his cock so well, taking him in like you belonged to him. Your gasps grew louder the more Tim pushed in and it was only then when he came to a halt and his cock was deeply buried within you did the both of you moan.
Tim kept himself there, "But I don’t think that’s what you want, is it?” His free hand moved then, fingers brushing lightly against your jaw, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His touch was firm, commanding, but there was a softness there too. After all, you both couldn't help the connection that was forming throughout this whole night, “You didn’t want easy. You're a brat. You wanted me to put you in your place.”
And that's when he pulled himself out, and pushed all the way back in. With your eyes interlocked with his, he revelled in the way you gasped loudly and so he did it again. Another retreat and then moved all the way back in, earning a mewl from your red tinted lips, your eyes struggling to not roll to the back of your head. Fuck, you were beautiful like this.
The rain began to pick up again, but Tim's voice was clear as he pulled out of you, "Tell me I'm wrong, boot. Tell me."
You let out a frustrated groan at the loss of traction. You could tell he was playing with you- in order to get his cock he wanted your answers. And so as his thumb gently traced over your bottom lip you gazed up at him shamelessly, "You're not wrong, Sir." A small confession that barely left your mouth was all Tim needed to know you wanted this just as much as he did.
"Atta girl," He hummed before covering your mouth with his rough hand, your scent from when he touched you still lingering on his fingers, "Now shut up, you're being too loud."
What followed next was unforgettable when he picked up a pace. He fucked you senselessly, his cock deepening in you even more with every pump and thank God the rainfall grey heavier and that he had covered your mouth- your chorus of noises could've been heard had they not been swallowed by his hand.
Tim's lips were just parted as his breaths were heavy, his control unraveling with every second that his cock got inside your sweet, wet warmth.
However, the storm was not letting down and he'd hate to catch a cold being drenched once again. So he pulled out one last time before helping you stand up, "Get inside,"
Your legs felt like jelly as you climbed into the shop in the back, the confines of the car suddenly feeling much smaller, much warmer. The loud patter on the roof a stark contrast to the pounding in your chest.
Tim followed, shutting the door behind him with an ominous click. His broad frame took up far more space than you were prepared for, making the already-cramped backseat feel impossibly small. He patted his thighs and you wasted no time immediately crawling onto his lap, both of your pants at your ankles without a care as you straddled him.
Your TO raised his hands up as he unzipped your jacket, teasingly taking his time shrugging it off you. Your trembles were apparent at his soft touch and you couldn't stop your squirming on his lap, wanting more.
"Someone getting impatient?" He tilted his head as he examined your face while he began to take his jacket off.
You nodded eagerly, "Very much, Sir."
"Good," He threw his jacket away, "Me too." And he lifted you up, planting you back onto his pulsating dick.
You moaned and you squeezed your hands onto his shoulders as you got used to his size again. You never left his gaze- hungry, intense, and making you feel completely exposed, even if you weren't completely unclothed.
Tim growled, "Fuck, you take me so well." And he didn’t waste a second. His hands moved with purpose, one sliding down to grip your waist while the other tangled itself into your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. And as you began to bounce up and down, he met your rhythm by grinding up into you.
Your breath hitched at the overwhelming sensations. No one had ever made you feel so full, so needy, so greedy for more. You yearned to be closer than you already were. It didn't matter that your chests were flushed against one another, a crave itched your lips to meet his. The way they softly parted when he panted or cussed, they were so luring and daring, you were drawn.
You knew he would kiss good, he would kiss you so well.
Tim caught on, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
You hadn't realised you were staring at his lips until you flickered your eyes back at his dilated ones and slowed your movements, "Like what?"
He tilted his head as he studied your face, also easing off while he warmed his cock inside you, "Like you want to kiss me."
"Because I do, Sir," You muttered and you moved your hands to either side of his neck, just tickling the back of his wet hair. You leaned closer, your breath fanning his face as his did to yours and you whispered lowly, "I really, really want to, Sir. Have I not proven myself?"
His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable, but the way he wasn't pushing you away told you he was considering it.
"Fuck it," He mumbled and in an instant his lips were on yours- hot, demanding, and utterly consuming. His kiss wasn’t gentle, wasn’t tentative. It was everything you’d been waiting for, everything you’d been craving, and more.
You both began to move again and you gripped the fabric of his uniform as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality and, really, to bring you two even closer. Tim tightened his hand in your ponytail just enough to make you gasp, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue claiming yours with a dominance that left you dizzy.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were grasping for air, your lips swollen and tingling from the intensity. He didn’t pull back far, just enough to look at you as you both worked together to create a relentless pace.
Tim skimmed down to watch your pussy engulf his cock, drawing a groan when he looked back up at you, "Oh, baby, you were made just for me, weren't you?" And you couldn't agree more. The way you fluttered around him, coating him as he filled you was a feeling you dreamed about. He was driving you insane, and he was losing his control over you.
You were getting close, feeling that bubble beginning to form again the more you rode him. You didn't care how tired you were, you feared you may never get this again. All you wanted was to capture the feel of his two hands that explored your body.
Tim's lips ghosted over your jawline and you accepted his touch by opening the side of your neck for him. His mouth began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn't stop the moans from falling off your tongue.
"Sir, I'm so close I-" A whimper cut you off when his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your hands clutched onto the back of his head, "Please, please, let me cum."
"Wait for me." He mumbled into your skin, clearly getting closer too by how his thrusts were getting faster, chasing his climax that was just as big as yours.
The storm outside grew louder, mirroring the storm inside the car. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. Not the job, not the patrol, not the danger. There was only you two in this very moment.
So when you cried out, "Fuck, Tim, I'm cumming." He dragged your face back down to yours, capturing you into another deep, passionate kiss as you both struggled to breathe. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace as you fell apart. Then, Tim drew out a rumbling groan into your mouth and you shuddered at the feeling of his cum spurting into you- filling you completely.
You both slowed down your movements, his cock softening inside you as your walls fluttered to a halt.
For a moment there you two were still, just holding each other in one another's arms as you worked to steady both of your heartbeats and breaths. Despite the stickiness from the rain and sweat or the absolute mess you made of each other, you closed your eyes as you held onto Tim's comfort as his hands never left your back and he buried his head into the crease of your shoulder.
You stayed like that, neither one of you wanting to be the first to pull away.
━━ ✩*ೃ.⋆ ━━
Your adrenaline was wearing off just as the storm outside began to die a little. Both you and Tim were back in the front seats of the shop where you pulled your jacket back onto your shoulders as he adjusted his belt. His steady and unwavering demeanour was back to normal, but his jaw was tightened as if he was replaying back everything that just happened.
The crackle of the radio shattered the silence, a voice cutting in, "Scene is Code 4. Suspects in custody."
Meaning, the shift was over.
"Perfect timing," You muttered, suppressing a small smile as you flattened the stray hairs that had escape from your ponytail. I guess you didn't hate him anymore, but, the only problem now was that you couldn't ignore the pit in your stomach of what tomorrow might bring between you and Tim.
Tim didn't reply immediately, but when he did, his voice was low, "Not a word about this, boot. Got it? This doesn't leave the shop."
You rested your back against your seat and sighed, a sly grin resting on your face, "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your reputation."
His sharp eyes darted to you, “I mean it, Boot.”
You glanced back at him with a shrug in your shoulders, “Relax, Sir. I can keep a secret.”
When he turned the key, the engine roared to life, filling the space with a steady hum. You captured his continuous side-eyes at you as he gripped the wheel, his knuckles white, like he was willing himself to let it all go as he stayed put.
You couldn’t resist one last jab.
“For the record, though,” you started, barely loud enough to be heard, “I think you liked it more than you’re letting on.”
His hand froze on the gearshift for half a second before he cleared his throat, “Just put your seatbelt on.”
You smirked to yourself, the tension crackling between you as he pulled onto the road. While neither of you spoke about your comment, the twitch at the corner of his mouth told you that you weren't wrong.
i want romance. i want intimacy. i want the 2 am love making. i want consistency, loyalty. i want the random looks of admiration. i want to know you're just for me. i want date nights. i want love so pure and true. i want it because i can return it.
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