Hi everyone. I’ve been putting off making this post, but I wanted to be honest with you.
Thank you so much for being patient with the Earn It series. I know it’s been a long time since the last update, and I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who has continued to wait, check in, or keep the story in the back of their minds.
When I started writing Earn It, I had so many ideas and was really excited about where the story could go. But life got busy, and writing slowly became something I kept meaning to come back to instead of something I had the time and energy to enjoy. The longer I went without updating, the harder it became to find my way back.
For now, Earn It is on a hold. I’m not officially closing the door on it, and I truly hope I find my way back to these characters someday. However, I can’t promise future updates or a completed ending.
I’m sorry I can’t give you a definite answer. Please know this isn’t because I stopped caring about Earn It or the people who read it. I care about it too much to rush through it out of guilt or obligation.
Thank you for being here, reading Earn It, and being patient with me :)
———
Tags, and a little apology to those who’ve been waiting: @ttulipwritezz @shadysoulangel @craftymoonchaos @oreoswirll @surebutwhy @thehockeynerd30 @fearofwater13
A/N: second writing post ever! Please send asks my way for platonic The Rookie stuff, it might take a while but I can get to it! Especially for younger/kid/puppy reader, probably not actual rookie!readers.
- Tim gets nervous when his kid is sick, especially when they're younger.
- The horror stories he's heard of a cough turning into pneumonia, or the fact Isabelle had some symptoms similar to illness when she was undercover and an addict, make a sharpness in his chest spike.
- He's very doting and caring, even when you're a teenager, he will bring you soup in bed, watch movies with you, consistently check your temperature, make sure you're not doing too much.
- If he ever gets a call during patrol you're sick at school? He's picking you up, driving you to probably his sister's (or letting you stay home alone if you're old enough), and checking in on you a lot.
- This could even be how Lucy meets you in her rookie days, except Tim is more so a mother hen with you and glares every time she talks to you too much (very typical first-season Tim).
- If the sickness lasts more than two or three days, he takes you to the doctor, sometimes even gets the doctor to come to him since he knows nurses and professional doctors from being a cop.
Minific!
“Are you feeling better today?” A gentle voice asks across the room, guiding your sleepy vision to your dad, Tim Bradford, standing in the doorway of your room.
You have been ill for a few days, not too rare in cold weather like right now but it makes Tim go insane with worry. He's been hovering, eyes hardening with every small cough, every stuffy sniffle, making you soup, letting you stay home, holding your hand just a fraction too tight after feeling the fever on your forehead.
“A bit.” You simply answer, voice no longer raspy or thick like the days before.
Tim slowly crosses the room, just in his usual home clothes, not his chunky uniform or silky going-out outfits. His hand, calloused and cool, presses to your warm forehead, making the worry lines he always has in his forehead press down and his hard blue eyes soften in worry.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” he says in a low tone, his frown still on his face, making you frown right back at him. His thumb gently rubs your hairline, calloused skin carefully pressing down to hot head in fatherly worry.
You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with the Tim™ look, where his eyes narrow in a disapproving glare, but not too harsh in the face of his sickly kid.
Your dad has always been what people would call “overprotective”, even you have admitted that too, but he is a cop. And your mum did turn into a drug addict. He's just worried. Constantly
I just published well uploaded the first part to the series. I'm not good with adding the links so you might just have to scroll through my blog to find what you're looking for. My fic Don't Look At Me Like That is a temporary hiatus for the time being. I lost interest in writing it so I won't be adding new parts until further notice.
"Where's Kojo?" Lucy asks. "He's smitten with a woman he met at the park so now he's with her." Tim states. "You left Kojo with a woman you just met, are you serious right now?" Lucy exclaims. "Look Lucy, Kojo is fine, she even gave me her number so I can call and check in on Kojo." Tim states.
"Did she give you a name by chance?" Lucy asks. "No, she did not, but I'm sure everything's going to be fine." Tim states. "So you let a complete stranger watch Kojo and she didn't even tell you her name but gave you her number?" Lucy asks. "Look Kojo was absolutely smitten, I didn't want to deal with a grumpy dog all day." Tim states before continuing. "God knows we have the Major Crimes team coming in so we have to be on our best behavior." Tim states.
"Hey Lucy, Bradford." Penn states before looking down. "Aw man, I thought you was bringing Kojo, I brought dog treats." Penn states. "I was but then Kojo fell in love with a woman we met at the park so now he's with her because he refused to leave." Tim states crossing his arms.
"You let a woman you don't know watch your dog?" Karadec asked as Morgan looked at Tim. "You do know statistically she could dog nap your dog or Kojo could fall more deeply in love with her and not want to come back." Morgan states.
"The Captain is in a great mood, it's weird as shit." Oz states as he holds up three boxes of donuts like a peace offering. "He brought Ingrid and didn't tell me, man that's mean." Morgan states as she rushes off to say hi to Ingrid. "Are they dating?" Penn asks as Oz and Karadec shake their heads.
"They had a little fling a couple of months ago, then he almost got killed so he broke it off. However, she wasn't that upset about it." Karadec states.
"Probably because she's waiting for you to ask her out." Oz states coughing over his words so Karadec doesn't hear him.
She went up to the front desk at the station the man told her to be at at 3 pm. "Can I help you?" A officer asked as he took in her attire. "Um, Tim Bradford said I could drop Kojo off at 3. He's been really good so I thought I'd drop him off on time." She states fidgeting with her sleeves as Kojo stands in between her legs.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Nick asks as Ingrid barks happily and runs towards her. "Oh I'm dropping Kojo off." she states holding up the leash for Kojo.
"Why do you have, never mind. Come on back, I'll radio Bradford to let him know that you're here with Kojo." He states as he holds out his hand.
"Is he not here?" She asks before continuing. "Because I can come back later." she states. "No you're fine, he's just out on patrol." Nick states running a hand through his hair. "Why aren't you out on patrol, you are a cop right?" She asks looking up at him.
"I am a cop, but I'm a captain, so I don't need to really go out on Patrol unless there's something big going on, or if it gets really bad out there." Nick states as a woman from across the room squeals when she sees Kojo.
"Kojo, come here buddy!" Lucy states trying to get him to come over. However, Kojo doesn't move, he rests his head on her knees and Lucy just stares at her.
"You must be the woman Tim was talking about." Lucy states her voice flat. "I am, Kojo and I had the best day, have you seen Mr. Bradford?" she asks as the bullpen goes dead silent.
"I'm right here, you can call me Tim by the way, Mr. Bradford makes me feel old." Tim states as he looks down at where his dog has his head rested on her knees while she gives him ear scratches.
"Was he good for you?" Tim asks noticing the way she rocks on her heels as she fidgets with her sleeves.
"Oh he was so sweet, I hope you don't mind, but I got him a pup cup because he was doing so good." She states looking back at him now fidgeting with Kojo's ears but the dog just soaks it up.
"You gave him a pup cup, but Kojo doesn't like those." Lucy states. "Well, he ate the entire thing, I hope he doesn't have any sensitivities, I can pay for his vet bill if his stomach gets upset." She states.
"I did text you to ask, but you never texted back." She states before continuing without letting Tim get a word in "Which in hindsight should have already been an answer; but he kept whining when we got to this dog friendly cafe that I always go to, so I got him one." She states.
"It's fine." Tim states. "Are you sure because I can." she gets cut off. "Truly, it's fine, I am grateful that you asked, though I didn't get your text meaning I probably typed in the wrong number." Tim states before clicking his tongue so that Kojo knows to say goodbye.
But Kojo just huffs before leaning his full body mass onto her legs. Without thinking Tim pulls her close. "Sorry, he's not usually like this." Tim states.
"He ignored me, traitor." Lucy states crossing her arms as she stares at the woman in Tim's arms. She's trying to figure out why Kojo won't let a strange woman leave.
"Kojo, I have to go." She states before sitting on the tile floor of the police station. "Maybe if you're good, your dad will let you come to the park more often." She states kissing his head while he whines.
"I know, you're upset because I have to leave, but I've got plans bud." She states as Kojo just drops his head on her lap giving her the sadest puppy eyes that Lucy has ever seen.
She kissed Kojo on the head before patting his head and getting up. "I can give you my number just in case." She tells Tim before looking at Nick who just standing there trying not to make her uncomfortable. "Where's your doggo?" She asks rocking on her feet, before fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
"She's around, probably trying to convince Oz to give her donuts." Nick states as Ingrid comes bolting past before doing a double take when she sees the woman from the park. "woof." Ingrid barks as she presses her body against the woman's legs making Kojo huff.
"Oh hi, sweet girl." she coos as she pets Ingrid before kissing the bulldog on her head. "I'm sorry sweet girl, but I've gotta go, maybe I'll see you soon." She states before waving goodbye to Kojo and Ingrid who just pout.
However, as she leaves both Kojo and Ingrid try to follow after her. "Whose that?" Penn asks as he fixes his hair. "She was the one watching Kojo, and now neither of them want her to leave." Lucy states sarcastically.
"What is your problem, are you actually jealous that Kojo is giving all of his attention to someone else?" Tim asks. "I just think it's a bit odd that Kojo just took to a stranger since he hates new people." Lucy states crossing her arms.
Tim has to pull Kojo back as he and Ingrid try to follow her outside. "No Ing, you can't go with her." Nick states as the woman comes back inside. "I was hoping to get your number just incase Ingrid wants to hang out sometime." She states holding her phone out for him to take. Nick blushes and tries to say something but his response comes out all stuttered.
"I understand if you don't wish to give me your number, I'm a big girl, I can handle a bit of rejection." She states. "No it's not that, I just wasn't expecting you to ask for my number." He states as he takes her phone before noticing a large dog maybe a pittie mix on her lock screen.
"Oh that's Darla, she's at training right now so she can become a service dog, those are actually my plans." She states looking up at Nick. "I'm on my way to pick her up so I really got to get going." She states as Nick types in his number before saving it.
"Here you go, now just text me when you get to the place you're going or whenever you get home; or you can do both so I don't worry." Nick states sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as sweat falls down his face. The AC in the station was not the greatest, and they were informed it was out in the lobby.
"I can do that, bye." she states hurrying out the door as Kojo barks waiting for her to come back.
I hope yall enjoyed this part, sorry for the late updates, I've only been able to work on this fic during the morning time before my college starts. Happy reading.
soooo i started from a drabble idea and wrote some light smut. i am not completely sure how i feel about it - it's kind of a theme at this point - but at the same time it feels like i drove the point home and then some, if that makes sense? i kept listening to 'you give love a bad name' and this is what came of it
i have more ideas for tim and i'm debating writing actual, proper smut for him sometime, but we shall see how derailed my plans will get with time. i am very excited to see what you guys think of this particular piece.
content warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, light smut - but seriously, please do NOT interact if under 18, body worshipping kind of, curvy!reader, established relationship, glasses kink, dom!tim -ish, dom!reader - ish (kind of a switch situation maybe?), tim is a sap, tim is head over heels in love with reader, suggestive open ending
summary: tim bradford loves the angel and respects the devil - but what happens when they meet?
pairing: tim bradford x fem!reader
main masterlist | the rookie masterlist
Closing the front door behind him, Tim made sure to turn the key twice, locking up for the night and arming the security system, before placing his backpack on the little bench in the hallway, taking off his shoes and slowly making his way to the bedroom. The house was dark and mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from the bedroom where his dog's snores could be heard along with rustling papers. Judging by the soft yellow glow coming from beneath the door, you didn't turn on the overhead white bulbs, opting for the warm light of the lamp on the bedside table instead. It was easier on the eyes, he knew, and left you with no headache in the morning.
His heavy footsteps on the wooden floorboards alerted you to a new person in the house, but since Kojo barely deemed the sound worthy of his superior canine instincts, you knew it wasn't an intruder. And really, even without the dog's seal of approval, you'd recognize the pattern anywhere. A moment later, the bedroom door creaked and opened to reveal your very tired boyfriend, who looked just about ready to fall onto the bed and fall asleep with his head in your lap. Posture deflated, eyes barely open, arms mostly limp at his sides, he mumbled a greeting as he dragged his feet the short distance until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. But then he stopped abruptly, head snapping up and eyes scanning your figure carefully - assessing. He blinked once, twice - then a few more times for good measure as he tried banishing the exhaustion from his brain in order to take in the sight in front of him properly.
"I - uh"
Placing the files you'd been working on for the past few hours to the side, you gave him your undivided attention, as your fingers glided over Kojo's soft fur, settling for a soothing scratch between his ears to help him sleep better. And help it does, if his unconscious nuzzling further into your touch and spastic back leg is any indication.
"Is everything okay?"
You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch Tim open and close his mouth like a fish, with no actual sounds coming out. The adorable pout forming on your lips, however, is what finally breaks the dam.
He groans. Not loud, but enough that it cannot go unnoticed.
"You wear glasses?"
"Yes? Well, they're reading glasses, but I can't work without them for long. Why -"
And then it clicks. Pressing your lips together, you try your best to suppress a knowing smirk - but judging by his reddening neck and ears and the sheepish expression taking over his features, you are failing miserably. You click your tongue, giving your flustered boyfriend a shameless once over, your hungry gaze lingering on the way his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip as he nervously shifts from foot to foot.
Restless, you quickly realise, because of the half-hard evidence in his pants.
"Didn't peg you for the kinky type, Sergeant Bradford."
He makes a sound low in his throat - something very close to a whimper - and your delight only intensifies. Biting your lip, you abandon the sleeping pup beside you and slide down the mattress, taking his hand and guiding him towards the living room. You loved Kojo, but if you were right about this, you wanted to take your time, no interruptions and no additional company.
You motioned for Tim to sit on the couch while you perched on the coffee table directly in front of him, arms crossed over your chest, eyebrow raised and a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat while a rosy hue took over the apples of his cheeks, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.
"So - glasses?"
He hums, eyes anywhere but on you. Well, you can't have that, now can you?
Leaning in, you pinch his chin between your thumb and forefinger, lifting his face in order to finally meet his gaze. Your thumb gently strokes the rough skin of his cheek as a tired, content smile settles over his face and that never fails to make the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. The knowledge that you are his safe space as much as he is yours fills you with so much joy, you are certain your giddiness resembles that of a child left to their own devices in a candy store.
"Tim, my love, talk to me."
"I just - I've never seen you wear them before. You look - " he bites his lip "adorable. And sexy. And I feel like a complete pervert for the things I'm imagining doing to you because of them. While you're wearing them."
"Oh?"
Cocking your head to the side, you get up from your seat and close the distance between you, standing patiently between his legs and allowing him time and space to decide what he wants to do next. He had a long shift, you won't start anything that he isn't 100% on board with.
You didn't have to wait too long, however, because as soon as you were within reach, his greedy hands grabbed handfuls of your hips and ass, hauling you into his lap - right onto his rapidly hardening cock. The squirming is instinctual, rolling your hips is accidental, kissing him within an inch of his life is intentional.
"I'd like to hear more about those things you want to do to me, Sir."
The words were whispered on his lips between kisses, teeth clashing and nipping at any patch of skin that came their way as both your wandering hands started making quick work of any clothes they could reach. He was quicker, as you were clad only in your pajamas - one of his old academy shirts and a sheer pair of lace panties - and the second the shirt hit the floor and cool air brushed over the heated skin of your now bare torso, a needy whine escaped your kiss-bitten lips.
"Not fair."
He chuckled, his warm breath fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck as his mouth took it upon itself to make sure you are properly marked up, starting right under your jaw and leaving barely any inch of skin untouched. You shivered, eyes closing and back arching towards the promise of pleasure when his nimble fingers moved upwards, the blunt tips of his nails scratching ever so softly across your spine - while his other hand splayed over your thigh, grip tightening with every sweet moan he coaxed out of you.
"God, you are vision."
The roughness of his voice - the absolute devotion mixed in with complete reverence sent a thrill through you, something you had only ever felt with him. But it wasn't the way he made you feel with his hands, or with his words - not really. It was the way he looked at you - like you were a goddess descended from Mount Olympus who deemed him worthy of her love and he couldn't breathe unless he showed his gratitude in every way he knew how. The unfiltered adoration shining in his eyes right as you opened your own nearly undid you, blinking back tears as you took in the disheveled exterior of a man thoroughly consumed by desire - a feeling he oh so eagerly surrendered himself to.
He took his time committing every inch of your marvelous body to memory - every curve, every dip, the soft pouch guarding your abdomen, the generous swell of your breasts and the beautiful peaked nipples begging for his undivided attention. But his traitorous eyes kept coming back up to your face - no, to your eyes and, by extension, the way they look framed by your glasses.
Tim Bradford always believed that you've been blessed with an angel's smile, one you gladly shared with everyone you met. He considered himself a lucky bastard to be the only one who got to see the devilish spark hiding behind your playful gaze.
Somehow, he never considered a version of you where those two could coexist.
tim bradford calling lawyer!wife!reader when the mad dog case unfolds instead of nolan
sooooo, i did a thing. i am not sure how i feel about the thing. i apparently couldn't get my mind off tim x lawyer wife reader and kept trying to piece together different scenarios and a 'what if' popped up as i was rewatching 6x9. i like how it turned out, but i am also not really sure about it? let me know what you think, please.
could be read as a companion to A Very Handsome Boy or as a standalone
main masterlist | the rookie masterlist
when Pearson rolls up to the scene and immediately starts questioning Tim, both him and Grey have a feeling that something's off
when the detective confirms that Tim is a person of interest and this line of questioning can lead to disciplinary action, he immediately dials the only number he has on speed dial
you
he briefs you on the situation in as little words as possible
but you don't really need to hear anything else
because this is not a social call
this is not Tim calling his wife
this is Tim calling the best lawyer the city of Los Angeles has ever seen
when you enter the station, you're already on edge and quite frankly, pissed off
of all the people they could suspect of being guilty
of all the cops they could suspect of being dirty
TIM?
well, that won't do
retrieving your visitor's bagde from the front desk, you storm towards the interrogation room you know your husband's waiting for you in
you don't bother knocking
don't bother with pleasantries
you enter, close the door, sit down next to your client, and stare the detective dead in the eye
"get out"
"excuse me?"
"you heard me. i need to talk to my client, you can't be in here."
Pearson scoffs
"you know this is illegal, right?"
you tilt your head to the side
"how is it illegal, officer?"
"it's detective"
"it's irrelevant"
Tim is trying so hard to conceal a smug smile
he's been on the receiving end of that particular brand of sass for a long time before you two started dating
but in your defense, with Tim it was mutual
and you were flirting
this poor soul, on the other hand, is trying to dictate how to do your job when he's got no authority whatsoever
so really, you're well within your rights
"you can't represent him"
"why?"
"because he's your husband"
you feign a startled expression, eyes wide, hand over your heart, and look from the detective across from you to Tim, then to the wedding bands elegantly stacked on your left ring finger
"really? oh my God, these aren't friendship rings?"
it made Tim snort
and when you took a moment to 'compose yourself' after this 'new information' drop
he lost it
I'm talking full belly laugh lost it
on the other side of the two-way mirror, in the observation room, Wade Grey was having a very good laugh too
he didn't know exactly what would happen when you'd arrive, but he had a pretty good idea
he'd seen you in action before
you went against every single one of his officers and came out of the room victorious
you had this in the bag
and you sure would do it in style
back in the room, the detective rolls his eyes
"it's either his union rep, or no one"
"now hold up, cowboy, I have read every rule book and document, and even checked out the ethical implications. any officer has the right to legal representation, which is not limited to their union rep. if they want an actual lawyer, they are entitled to one, regardless of their personal relationship with said lawyer. you created the precedent for waiving this alleged 'conflict of interest' when Officer Nolan was elected union rep of Mid-Wilshire. he has a personal relationship with everyone here. thus, rejecting me on account of a similar conflict would be purely hypocritical."
Pearson's mouth formed a tight line, the tension visible in his jaw
"so you're stuck with me. now do me a favour and deal with it like a big boy."
the room cleared for about five minutes while you and Tim discussed strategy
you know he's innocent, though, so there's no 'getting his story straight', it's more of a 'let me do the talking because he will use anything against you' pep talk that borders as instructions
"yes ma'am"
when you let Pearson know you're ready for him, he looks smug
too smug
you hate it instantly
by then Grey invited the whole station to watch this unfold
so you had a gallery cheering you on
that you didn't know about
but that's okay
they're with you in spirit
making eye contact with Pearson, you kindly inform him of how things will be unfolding
"I will do most of the talking, so feel free to start but don't get your hopes up."
the sweet, innocent looking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth has the detective grinding his teeth to hold back a snarky reply
he clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath, and reluctantly starts his line of questioning
big mistake
for him, anyway
"so you're saying Mad Dog jumped?"
you nodded imperceptibly at your husband, signaling him that this was a safe one to answer
you discussed the hearsay allegations during those few minutes
there was no reason to turn this into a he said/he said battle
better to set the record straight from the get go
"I'm not saying anything, that's what happened."
"right, and are we going to find your DNA on him?"
you held up a hand
"inappropriate question."
"what's inappropriate about it?"
"badgering the witness and I resent your implications."
"we're not in court."
a short, humourless laugh escapes your lips
"trust me, detective, you do not want to be opposite me in court."
"fine. did you touch Mad Dog in any way before his alleged fall?"
you roll your eyes and shake your head before replying
"nope. try again."
he sighs. loud. annoyed.
"did you make any sort of physical contact with Mad Dog before his untimely death?"
your hand shoots up again, in front of Tim this time, as if physically barring him from answering
if the witch hunt wasn't obvious before, it sure was now
"rephrase."
"this is bullshit and you know it."
"rephrase or move on to the next question."
"this is an interrogation! I need to question him and he needs to answer!"
"well maybe if you knew how to do it..."
"I am a detective!"
"you've said that already."
"I question people all the time! it's literally my job."
"then you're not very good at your job. I'd ask who trained you, but I'd feel bad offending anyone."
"your presence is offending me."
the comment was mumbled under his breath
but you heard it
Tim heard it
everyone on the other side of the glass heard it
you smile. cold. calculated.
"I'd have been worried if it didn't."
Pearson turned his attention back towards your husband, who was fixing him with his legendary scowl
the man insulted his wife
Tim does not take that lightly
the detective sighs, choosing his words carefully
but clearly not careful enough
"what did Mad Dog say to you before-"
yeah, you were done here
"for fucks' sake, are you trying to waste my time? because if this is the best you've got - the best this department's got - I might have to start billing for emotional distress."
"sweetheart, this is an interrogation, not drama class."
"and somehow your incompetence is the most dramatic performance I'd ever witnessed."
taking a deep breath, you take a minute to truly compose yourself this time around
"just...bring Lopez in."
"Lopez is his friend, she can't-"
"yes, she can. she's a professional."
"this is my case!"
"and this is my client. congratulations, you're failing both."
"he doesn't have the right to remain silent, as a police officer, he is obligated to answer any and all questions I throw at him!"
"you are grasping at straws and you know it, detective. Sergeant Bradford has not invoked his fifth amendment right once and is well aware that he couldn't have done so either way. your only problem here is with me and the fact that I know how to do my job properly. I can obviously not advise my client not to answer, but I can push until your questions sound more genuine towards solving the case and less like you're looking for a scapegoat."
"careful, counselor, that sounds a lot like you're accusing me of something."
you raise a perfectly shaped brow, eye contact never wavering
"should I be?"
Pearson throws his papers on the desk, rubbing a hand down his face and letting out a mirthless laugh
"fine, if that's how you want to play it. I'm placing your client on admin leave pending a full investigation."
the observation room door bursts open instantly, a furious Grey making his way in
"you have no authority to dictate what happens to my officers, detective, so I suggest you stay in your lane."
Pearson clenches his jaw and really, it's astounding that he's yet to break anything with all that tension coursing through him in the past half hour alone
"we'll see what IA has to say, then."
and with that, he leaves
Tim clears his throat, looking at you, then at his Sergeant
"we have 48 hours at most before IA raises hell. shall we get started?"
one thing was certain, you were not going to stop until your husband's innocence was proven
Tim grew up watching the way his dad loved his mom, he knew it wasn't right. He saw the way his dad cheated and lied.
So he promised himself if he was ever lucky enough to get a wife, that he would love her and appreciate her.
But then everything with Isabella happened, and while Tim tried, tried so hard, to make it work but she was too far gone.
And for a while he honestly believed he would never be able to love like he had in the past. Then he met you, but he felt wrong when he realised he was falling in love with you.
You, of course, felt it too. Both his feelings, yours and how he was clearly holding himself back. So without pushing too hard you tried to get to know him and his insecurities better to know.
It took a while, but once Tim learned that; it is okay to love. It is okay to still miss some part of yourself. It is okay to heal and be happy again.
And when you two stood at the alter, saying your vows, you made sure to include it. "I'll love you forever, what you have gone through has helped shave the man that is the man I love with all my heart and all my wellbeing."
the first piece in this mini-series was given a song lyric for a title. so was the second, but i promise neither was intentional. but now i'm on fic number three and i cannot bail on this accidental tradition, so this time i went with a song by mgk and bebe rhexa that's been popping up more and more on my tiktok fyp lately.
content warnings: soft tim, allusions to smut but nothing explicit - seriously, you have to squint to know it's even there, love and tooth-rotting fluff, non-sexual nudity, bath time, alcohol consumption (like one sip of wine)
summary: nothing cures a bad day in the bradford household better than quality time between the spouses - even when they involve christmas scented bubbles
pairing: tim bradford x wife!reader
mini-series masterlist
The hot water felt delightful on your skin, relaxing your muscles and allowing your mind to finally slow down. The sweet aromas of vanilla and cinnamon filled the spacious bathroom as the mirror gradually fogged up, and your yet untouched glass of wine teased you from the edge of the tub, steam curling almost seductively around the stem. After a grueling week of tactical planning and defense strategies, while also making sure to squeeze some training hours in here and there, you were more than ready for your pre-scheduled weekend off. Sleeping in, indulging in a spicy novel or two, catching up on trashy reality TV and giving in to all your piled up cravings.
What else could you possibly want?
Well, maybe your husband.
Tim promised you that he'd check out the schedule for the next seven days before clocking out tonight and try his best to get at least one synced day off with you. Knowing how understaffed they were lately after the lottery incident, however, you didn't want to get your hopes up.
You were not blaming him, of course. After taking over the Watch Commander position - which you were incredibly proud of him for earning - Tim was given an infinite list of new responsibilities that he could not neglect or ignore - and leaving the station without a direct supervisor was ranking very high on it. Rationally, you knew the station wouldn't go up in flames without him in the building over the next 24 hours, but Tim runs a tight ship - who actually knows what his absence may cause, especially if the (un)lucky replacement happened to be Smitty?
Taking a gratifying sip of your Pinot Noir, you let out a sigh, leaning back against the large tub and allowing the bubbles to envelop your body completely, the lingering ripples of water kissing at the soft skin of your neck. Ever since Lucy introduced you to the divine art of mixing up bath bombs with your normal bubbles, you have never been the same. The scent is richer and lasts longer on your skin - and you may have caught your husband reveling in that particular perk once or twice, usually when his lips trailed along the exposed skin of your shoulders, your chest, your thighs...
You are abruptly pulled out of your daydream by the sound of a key in the lock, followed by the front door opening and closing. You knew who it was before he even opened his mouth to greet you.
"Honey, I'm home!"
You shake your head at the cheesy line he picked up from the equally cheesy rom-coms you'd somehow persuaded him into watching with you, a soft, loving smile spreading on your lips.
"In the bathroom."
Heavy footsteps down the hall and the quiet creek of the bathroom door as he turned the handle and pushed it open were the only sounds you could hear before the sight of your tired, yet still handsome as ever, husband greeted you in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the frame, half-lidded eyes taking their time assessing the scene in front of him, lingering on the glistening skin of your legs and the tops of your breasts peeking through the vanilla scented bubbles - before settling on your left hand, where delicate fingers gently wrap around the stem of your wine glass, nails the same shade of red as the liquid itself, and the beautiful diamond adorning your ring finger winks as him as it catches the low light.
There is only one thought coursing through his mind as he takes in the heavenly sight he'd been blessed with - mine.
Because you are. You are his, as much as he is yours, and neither of you has ever shied away from making it known. Whether it was a gala or a fundraiser where you got to dress up and show each other off all night long - his hands splayed possessively over your waist and hips, yours looped around his arm or the crook of his elbow - or a small gathering of friends, a dinner hosted by you and Tim - with one of his large hands always settled nicely on your thigh, gripping harder, tighter, as if in warning, whenever you deemed fit to tease him - or even drinks at a dingy bar after shift where you'd take your rightful place on his lap to avoid your husband sporting the world's most pitiful pout (but really, you'd pout just as much if you couldn't, maybe even more), the physical touch was never absent and the claim was made.
But it wasn't about ownership, as much as it was about reassurance. Feeling you close and making sure you are safe at all times - making sure he is keeping you safe at times - grounds him more than anything ever did.
"See something you like?"
Your teasing tone is noticed and noted, but the one thing your husband doesn’t jest about is you - his love and his ever-growing attraction for the woman he’s so grateful to call his wife. Taking a step inside the spacious bathroom, he takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe in deep, allowing the sweet intermingled scents to work their magic and empty his overworked mind of any lingering work-related issues. This is home. This is you. He has no business bringing all that stress into your sanctuary.
Three large steps place him right beside the tub, where he settles quietly on the edge - legs sprawled before him, torso turned towards you, and those piercing blue eyes never leaving yours, not for a second.
“I see something I love, honey.”
Years of marriage and over a decade together – and somehow, your heart still skips a beat every time you hear those words. You know he loves you, he tells you every chance he gets, every time he sees you. Tim refuses to leave the house before kissing you goodbye and declaring his unconditional love for you. And the same goes for you. After that spinal surgery scare he gave you – during which you weren’t exactly speaking due to a stupid argument – you vowed to never let another day go by without making sure he knows you love him more than life itself.
“I love you too, more than you know.”
He smiles – his real smile, not the polite one he reserves for the station – and leans in, one arm bracing right beside your head, the other angled perfectly so that his large, calloused hand can cup your face, thumb caressing over the apple of your cheek so gently, you’d think he’s scared to break you.
You blush under the intensity of his gaze, eyes downcast and shy all of a sudden, but Tim is having none of it. He moves his hand lower, gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, and lifts your beautiful face to meet his soft, loving eyes.
“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart.”
“You’re staring.”
“I love looking at you. Please don’t take that away from me.”
Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the wine glass, sloppily placed on the other side of the tub, not the suds running down your arms when you lifted your hands to cup your husband’s face between them, and certainly not the traces of bubbles melting into his barely there stubble, left behind by your eager fingers. The only thing worthy of your notice was the brief spark that lit up the fireworks when your lips connected into a slow, tired kiss – one that communicated devotion and love and the rebirth of thousands of butterflies.
Tim smiled into the kiss. You tasted like wine – the expensive one you always reached for on difficult days, chocolate and strawberries – he spotted the fresh box in the kitchen before he made his way in here, one already missing as his lovely wife had an insatiable sweet tooth – and you.
And for the first time all day, Tim Bradford felt like he was right where he belonged.
Hello! I’m trying to find a Tim Bradford x reader. The reader was married to Tim and she was pregnant. They were at roll call and Wade introduced her at the new captain. The only thing is that she didn’t tell Tim about it and when she got in front of the police officers, she said, “yes I am Tim Bradford’s wife.” And she even refused to look at Tim. But she did end up looking at him and he was pissed. His Jaw tightened. After the roll call ended, everyone left the briefing room expecting Tim and the reader. She walked up to him and he looked at her and asked her if she was ever gonna tell him. I can’t remember who wrote it and I can’t remember the name of the story either.
