hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅
Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic ⋆˚。⋆୨୧⋆
summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you
word count: 10.3k
warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff
a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!
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“7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”
The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.
“7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.
“What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment.
“Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.
You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?
“Is that your answer, Boot?”
“No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”
Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”
“Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.
“Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from.
“Saved by the suspect,” you joked.
“Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”
“Ok, batman.”
Tim glared at you.
“I mean, Sir.”
After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.
Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer.
So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him.
You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible.
But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more.
“There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.
Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off.
You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford.
“Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man.
The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops.
“Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”
The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground.
“The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”
“Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”
The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands.
“Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you.
“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life.
“I swear—”
“Hands on the car!” You ordered
The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop.
“Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”
You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name.
“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms.
“No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”
You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.
He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”
No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—
“Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.
“Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.
Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it.
Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.
“Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”
“That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.
He’s out, and he’s coming for you.
“What the hell was that?”
You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him.
“Sorry, I—”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”
“Yes, sir.”
So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—
Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”
You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”
He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying,
“I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”
You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”
“Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?”
You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”
A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital.
You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”
Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio.
And so much for not talking about this now.
“Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.
“You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you.
You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking.
“Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.”
Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”
“It’s—a long story,” you told him.
“Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.
“Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”
He’s out, and he’s coming for you.
You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body.
Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you.
“If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”
“Boot, focus,” Tim barked.
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”
“Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat.
He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”
“Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”
“Until?” Tim prompted.
“Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”
You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.
“Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.
You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station.
“—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”
Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.
“But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”
You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life.
But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed.
“It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”
You were both silent for a moment.
A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”
“Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”
“And the guy back there?”
You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”
The thought made your skin crawl.
“I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”
Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”
Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.
The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.”
“Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call.
You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”
“Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”
Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”
“You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you.
“What’s a 215, Boot?”
“Carjacking.”
“Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
“Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”
You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles.
Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall.
“The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”
“So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms.
“I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”
“Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”
“But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”
“Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”
“Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”
“That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”
Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.
“Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”
“Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.”
They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing.
But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.
He’s out and he’s coming for you.
Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.
Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time.
“We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?”
You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier.
“No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”
“Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away.
You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so.
You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.
“Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him.
“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”
“Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.
“Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”
“And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head.
“Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”
For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference.
“In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”
You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”
Tim stayed silent.
“Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”
You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room.
You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure.
“So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.
“Do what?” You asked, confused.
“Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking.
You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—”
“Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”
You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it.
“No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”
“We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”
“How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends.
“Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”
The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.
“What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them.
“I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”
Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?
“Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
“Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”
And with that she walked out of the room.
“Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”
Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie.
“Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.
“Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.”
You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.
“And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”
With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.
“Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.
“I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”
She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.
You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.
You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later.
When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout. You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.
Funny how things could change so fast.
Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot.
Get a grip, you told yourself.
You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.
You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
“Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”
“Tim, you don’t have to—”
“That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”
There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him.
You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.
Tim started the engine.
“If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”
“You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”
“What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.
“Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”
“Take a left at the light,” you guided.
Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys.
“Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.
You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.
“You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?”
“Tim—”
“No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”
“No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”
“I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”
You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.
When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.
“How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked.
“Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said.
You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.
“Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”
“Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.
“If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”
“What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”
Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”
“Is that really needed?”
“I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor.
Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”
“See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim.
“Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”
Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?
“I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”
“Bold for someone whose career I could end.”
“You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”
Tim raised his eyebrows.
“Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.
“Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”
“Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.
“You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.
You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called.
“There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.
“Ginger ale it is.”
Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch.
You noted the careful distance he put between you.
“What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.
You smothered a laugh.
“Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered.
“Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”
“So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”
“Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.
“You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…”
You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”
Tim glared at you.
“Angela told me.”
“Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”
“Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”
“One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling.
“Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.
“Damn straight.” Tim nodded.
“You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.
“Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”
“Aside from the graffiti incident?”
“That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”
“No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”
“Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.
“I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”
“You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.
“Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”
“Right, sorry. Continue.”
Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.
“Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”
“Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“Of course not!”
Tim blinked.
“Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”
“Tim—”
You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so.
She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him.
“I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”
You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails.
“Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.
But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.
His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.
But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”
You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”
It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock.
You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.
You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely.
“Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft.
“Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”
“I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”
Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.
Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you
“Listen, Boot—”
He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound.
You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same.
Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”
“Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.
If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you.
He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following.
“Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.
The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet.
You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom.
You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.
Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth.
Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window
Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut.
Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you.
“Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand.
You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man.
“I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”
Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.
Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”
You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.
“Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you. I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”
You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.
You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”
Tim would notice you were gone. He had to.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”
You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?
Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”
“And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat.
Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”
He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”
Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.
Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting.
You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.
“You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.
“Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you.
You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”
Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists.
You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs.
“So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”
“Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.
Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground.
“You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”
He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.
“That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”
Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”
Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody.
“And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”
With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.
“Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”
“Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.
Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.
Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position.
“What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.
Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”
Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.
“Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully.
How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened.
“I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.
Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat.
“I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”
“No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 1.”
Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.
You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples.
Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter
Images flooded your senses.
The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.
Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.
He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?
Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.
You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm.
You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears.
You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.
The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head.
You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—
The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.
You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.
I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.
You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body.
“Boot?”
The muffled voice was closer than the others had been.
“Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice.
“Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open.
“Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.
“Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”
He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.
“Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”
“What?” You rasped, barely hearing him.
“Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”
You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.
“And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”
You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly.
Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”
When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”
“L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.
“Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”
You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”
Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”
“In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.
“I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”
You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal.
“There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer.
“For what, doing my job?”
You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”
“Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.
“So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.
Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”
You nodded again, looking at the floor.
“Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He’s never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”
You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”
Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”
You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.
Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.
You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in.
And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training
Officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that.
“So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence.
Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”
You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory.
You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.
“Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
“Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.
“That’s not true.”
You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Nine-thirty,” he admitted.
You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.
You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself.
“Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch.
Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming.
“Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”
“Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”
You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational.
“I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.
“Let me go with you,” Tim offered.
“I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said.
“You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall.
A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work.
“Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”
“Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”
“I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him.
Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed.
“Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.
“Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.”
You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”
“I can leave, if you’re—”
“No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”
You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change.
“We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room.
“Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”
“Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.
“There is no secret,” Tim shot back.
You winked. “Exactly.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.” You smiled.
The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down.
You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by.
“Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.
“I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”
He paused.
“Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”
You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”
“It’s a word!” Tim defended.
You laughed, turning over on your side.
“But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”
“I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”
You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”
“I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said.
Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”
Tim didn’t speak.
“It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”
“Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears.
“Tim?”
You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat.
“Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”
Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it.
You stood up.
And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.
But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him.
Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.
And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back.
His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.
It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.
You broke apart, both gasping for breath.
“Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”
You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”
You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt.
When you came apart again, he was smiling.
“Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered.
“I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”
You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.
“Boot—”
“If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said.
“I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”
You laughed, kissing him again.
“But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”
“It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”
You knew he was right. Of course he was right.
“But is it—what you want?”
“God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”
He broke off, running a hand along his hair.
“Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”
Tim looked at you.
“Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.
“I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.
“What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.
“Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”
You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.
You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.
And the decision seemed clear.
“Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”
He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.
“You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”
You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.
“What’re you doing?” You asked him.
“Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious.
“Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled.
You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.
You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.
“You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said.
“I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”
“We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said.
“I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed.
“And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up.
“Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face.
“What?” You asked.
“You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”
“Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”
“Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”
You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up.
“I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”
Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”
You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
You felt safe, protected in his arms.
The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.
But for now, this was enough. He was enough.
“Tim?” You whispered.
“Hmm?”
You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for…everything.”
“What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged.
“Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face.
“Shut it, Boot.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵💫
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vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)
jay isn’t happy with your decisions
neither is sunghoon
jake or heeseung
they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them
straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!
next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.
do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.
where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?
the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.
as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.
“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.
“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”
you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”
“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”
“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”
the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”
well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.
jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.
you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.
you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.
your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.
you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.
he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”
it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.
you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.
he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.
“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.
jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”
“but—,”
jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.
jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.
“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”
his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.
he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.
he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.
you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.
jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”
another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.
you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.
he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.
jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.
your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.
“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”
your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”
you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.
another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.
he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.
your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.
he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.
fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.
“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”
if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!
he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.
not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.
he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.
“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.
jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.
all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.
his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.
your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.
it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.
you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.
you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.
you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.
jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.
but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.
you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.
“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”
you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.
jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”
jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?
footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.
sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.
“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.
“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.
sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”
his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.
you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.
“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.
this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.
your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.
your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”
sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.
“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.
your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.
you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.
maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.
you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.
you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.
your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.
all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.
hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?
you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?
with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.
heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”
wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!
you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.
that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.
heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.
he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.
“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.
you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.
you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.
his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.
not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.
“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.
now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.
your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.
it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.
you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.
you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.
it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.
“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.
your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.
your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”
you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.
“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.
you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.
“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.
“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”
and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.
jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.
you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.
between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.
he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.
jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.
jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”
your mouth was so dry.
jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.
next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.
jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.
“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”
and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.
you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.
jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.
jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”
you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.
once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.
you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
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