#imnosuvu

Looking up at your rear view mirror, your eyes land on the police car that signals you to pull over. You can’t help but want to bang your head against the steering wheel, which you clench so tightly it might even leave dents. i don’t have time for this.

“ma’am, can i get your licence and registration, please?” the sergeant requests as he looks down at you through the rolled down window of your car. “you are aware you were caught speeding.”

“yes, unintentionally, sergeant.” his blue eyes watch steadily but as he hears his rank rolling off your tongue in such a manner, he clears his throat, adjusting himself, yet he keeps his eye on you as you open your glove box to retrieve what he requests.

“unintentionally,” he repeats, however his eyes notice the pistol sat in your glovebox as he takes the documents, “ma’am, i need you to step out of your vehicle, do you have a licence for that pistol?”

“i do, it’s in the glovebox,” sighing, you do as he says, as you know it’s best to listen as if not, it will only get worse, considering he’s the one who taught you how to use a gun for safety purposes

the cop looks around your vehicle, for any suspicious stuff. he sees the licence and lets you off, placing the rest of your documents back and now towers over you with eyes deeply staring down at you.

“look, sergeant, i really have to be somewhere,”

“giving attitude now are we?” he steps closer, lips inches apart.

furrowing his brows, he speaks lowly, “i might have to do a search on you.”

you scoff in return and roll your eyes at him. but obviously, he does not take this lightly.

the sergeant pushes you back onto the hood of the police car, and pins you, both his hands beside your hips, making you lift your arms up and beings patting you down, “clear, for now.”

his hands begin to discreetly cup your breasts and you smirk, “is it clear there, sergeant”

he furrows his brows, “i think i might need to take a better look.”

the cop pushes you into the back of the police car eagerly and presses his lips onto yours in a heated makeout session, his hands travelling up and down your waist and squeezing your breasts. you let out a moan against his lips and in return, he grinds against you. “need more of you, baby” you breathe out as he attacks your neck violently

“anything, mrs. bradford”

your hands roam around his upper half. the uniform always made him look good.

tim’s hand tugs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, attacking your cleavage and your hand tugs his hair making him groan and thrust forward again. “gotta be quick, baby—”

catching him off guard, you swap your positions, and you straddle him. he can’t help but clench his jaw at your shit eating grin, unknown to your hand grabbing the cuffs out his belt.

click

his eyes widen

“y/n—”

“shh” you press a kiss to his lips, “let me”

you unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, letting his hardened length out.

the cold air hits and he groans, muttering a fuck, “look what you do to me— oh fuuckk”

tim’s head falls back against the headrest and his open

the effect you have over him is crazy.

you stroke his length, pumping his shaft and watch how a stoic, dominant cop falls at his knees for you, “oh sergeant”

the moan of his rank rolling out your mouth makes him flex under you, you watch his pathetic attempt at straining against the cuffs. you chuckle at him kissing his jaw and travelling down his neck, leaving marks

unzipping and pulling your own jeans down, you line him up against him and sink down. a loud moan erupts out of both of you as you steady yourself against him. tim moans your name as you sink down, groaning as you clench around him and he smirks

slowly you begin to ride him speeding up as you get comfortable. the shop smells of sex, the sounds of you taking him and the moans falling out your mouth. out of nowhere, the positions flip.

“what the fuck— how’d you?” moaning out as tim thrusts into you deeper, tim swings the cuffs around his fingers, grinning down at you

confused, you furrow your brows. how on earth did he get out of the cuffs?

“i’m a cop, baby, i work these things everyday”

you chuckle then gasp, arching back as he hits that spot. “tim oh gosh right there, yes yes”

you curse under your breath and tim attacks your breasts.

“tim, oh shit, i’m close! so close keep going”

thrusting deeper, you tighten the grip in his hair and leave light crescent marks on his biceps.

“fuck, y/n, baby keep clenching around me like that and i’ll fill you up”

you reach your peak and moan out his name, holding onto him for dear life and the knot comes undone, milking him and tightening around him.

that was all he needed and joins you, filling you up as you both regain your breaths.

looking at the time on your watch you immediately get up, eyes widened in shock.

“fuck, i’m late”

“for what?”

“(bsf)’s baby shower” you whine at your husband as he chuckles, “i’m blaming you, if you didn’t stop me i wouldn’t have been so late.”

“if i didn’t stop you, you wouldn’t have been fucked in the back of my shop”

tim walks into the station, confused on the weird looks people give him and sees angela with a shit eating grin plastered on her face.

“why’s everyone looking at me like they’ve seen some alien?”

“timothy, have you looked in the mirror?” angela tries not to laugh but when she sees nylas face when she joins the two, they both break.

“is there something on my face?”

“on your neck, bradford” nyla laughs out, the two girls holding onto themselves for dear life.

as tim checks via his phone camera, his eyes widen and internally makes a mental note to ask you about this.

“i see you’ve been doing it with y/n i presume?” angela can’t help but poke fun at

“in the shop?” nyla questions, adding onto angela’s.

before tim can answer, miles comes up to tell tim he’s fixed all the files he was assigned to, but he’s at a loss of words once he sees the marks on his t.os neck, “sir, have you— i think you’ve—”

“shut it boot.” tim snaps, “go make yourself useful”

“yes sir”

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aglist — @fuckingsimp4azriel @bacheerawr

the night of yours and tommy’s wedding, he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and places you ever so gently onto your shared bed.

you’ve always believed in after marriage as in your family, it was always frowned upon.

tommy never pushed you into sex — he knew how important it was to you to uphold your family’s tradition and never slept with anyone else just to prove his loyalty towards you. ever since he laid eyes on you, he’s waited for you.

“this okay, love?” tommy asks, as he makes sure you’re comfortable on the bed, “are y’ready?”

“more than ever, tommy,” you mutter as you press a small, innocent kiss onto his lips.

smirking against your lips, he deepens the kiss, his left hand traveling down your thigh, pulling it to his hip and using his right hand to angle your chin. his kisses travel down your neck, leaving marks. you let out a light gasp, feeling slightly embarrassed as this sort of thing is very new to you.

he smirks against your skin, knowing how embarrassed you feel, finding it cute. his hands go behind your dress, unzipping it and waisting no time to chuck it away, unbothered on where it lands.

you lay almost bare underneath him — only thing that’s stoping him from seeing your beauty is the red lingerie you hesitantly decided to wear for tonight.

his eyes roam down your body, the tent in his trousers tightening with every glance.

fuck you looked heavenly.

tommy leans back down, pressing kisses to your cleavage. “all mine, y’my wife, my property”

“all yours” you whisper, hands going into his hair, nails grazing the shaved bits.

he lifts back up, unbuttoning his waist coat and chucking it carelessly away like he did with your dress, followed by his white dress shirt revealing his toned and defined chest.

your hands travel down his body, admiring him. it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless — he always sleeps without a shirt — but whenever you see him shirtless it always makes you feel an unusual sense of desire.

you lean forwards, kissing him again. as you make out, his fingers slyly travel down your back and unclasps your bra, revealing your beautiful tits to him causing him to groan. “fuck, so pretty, darlin’”

the tip of his thumb grazes your hardened nipple which causes a whine to come out your soft lips making tommy smirk, “yeah, you like that, baby?”

“tommy” you gasp out as he sucks on your right nipple, playing with your right. the unfamiliar yet welcoming feeling makes you want more of him.

he kisses around your nipple, worshiping your beauty, as if it’s the end of the world. he swaps nipples, now taking your left one in your mouth and rolling your left between his fingers, pinching them.

“oh, tommy,” you whisper, the foreign feeling taking over you as you crave more.

he begins to kiss down your body, making sure you’re comfortable and consenting.

“you okay?” he asks softly — the dangerous impatient gangster who gives no fuck on anyone’s feelings and gets what he wants even if he has to take a life, is replaced with a gentle, caring, patient-for-only-his-woman man.

“yes.” you innocently respond and tommy can’t help but melt at it.

his kisses begin to go down your torso, reaching the waist band of your panties. before he does anything, he looks up, silently asking for consent, which you shyly nod to.

his fingers slowly pull the thin fabric down your honey-soft legs and the cold air hits your pussy, the wetness shining from the light.

“look at you,” tommy growls out, “all wet f’me,”

his fingers collect your slick, the new feeling of his fingers sent a wave of lust through you,

he takes the fingers covered in your arousal and brings it towards his lips — sucking it clean off, moaning at your sweetness,

spreading your legs with his thick hands, he releases himself, his angry tip glistening with precum. your eyes widen at how big he is, feeling a bit nervous to take him, anxiety overtaking you.

tommy reads you like an open book and takes your hand, reassuring you, “it’s okay, m’love, if y’want me t’stop, i’ll stop, just say the word, yeah?”

“yeah,” you shyly reply, “but i want this,”

tommy smiles, leaning down again to press a soft kiss on your forehead. he then begins to position himself to your entrance. he slowly slides in and stays still, letting you adjust to his size. you let out a light wince of pain, the stretch causing a slow burn of pain in your lower abdomen.

“shh, baby it’s okay,” tommy whispers in your ear reassuringly, “it’ll go away.”

your hands go to his bare back, trying to blink away your tears. tommy then slowly pulls out, and then slowly pushes back in. you wince again, but less painfully as the pain slowly goes away and gets replaced with pleasure with every slow thrust. your winces slowly turn into shy gasps.

“tommy, can you…” shyly, you try to find your wording without making it seem awkward and embarrassing, “can you go faster?”

tommy chuckles in response at your shyness, “of course, baby,”

he then speeds up, thrusting in and groans at the tightness, “so tight, darling,”

you let out soft gasps, the welcoming pleasure overpowering you.

you then let out a moan which to then you cover your mouth with your hand in embarrassment.

“no darling, let me hear you, eh?” he groans out, taking your hand from your mouth

his pace quickens as he then brings his hand down to your pussy, playing with your clit. the feeling makes you dig your nails into his bare back, groans and moans with the sound of skin slapping occupy the room as sweat prickles on both your skins.

moaning his name out, you feel a weird sensation in your lower abdomen, like a tight knot forming which will soon explode.

“tommy.. tommy.. i feel—” you breathe out, but before you can register his comforting words, you feel yourself coming to your climax, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and you cry out his name, clenching around his dick making him moan out and arching your back as you feel a sort of release. tommy rises and watches as you milk his dick, groaning at the sight, a white ring forming at the base.

“fuck baby, you just came on me cock.”

your breathing quickens, resting your back onto the bed, you become sensitive. “tommy..”

“shhh baby, come on just a bit longer, eh?” tommy growls out, feeling himself about to release, “m’almost close,”

tommy’s pace quickens and then slams into you, burying his head into your neck, spilling his seed into you with a loud moan of your name.

“7-Adam-19, respond to 123 Oak Street. Code 2. Neighbor reports a 415 disturbance – loud construction noises. Caller states it started around 13:00 hours and is ongoing.”

the silence in the shop, where Bradford and his rookie, Chen, sit, gets disrupted by a call coming from dispatch over the radio.

“Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-19, call us responding; we are en route to the location.” chen says through the radio as her TO starts driving over to the area.

“Boot, what’s the nature of this call?” Bradford sternly asks Chen, his eyes not leaving the road.

Chen then speaks, responding to his question, “There’s loud construction noises, which have been going on for an unusual amount of time.”

Bradford hums giving a slight nod, indicating she’s right. He starts to pull up at the driveway of the house.

The two officers come out of the shop, the superior officer taking the lead, walking towards the door, where an unusual amount of drilling sounds were being made.

“LAPD, open up!” Bradford yells, as he knocks on the door, staying on the left side of the dorway, whilst Chen stations herself on the right — for safety purposes.

Suspiciously, there were no answer, so Bradford knocked again, to which also led to no answer. However, with each knock, the drilling sound got louder and louder. As if a warning to stay away.

After a few minutes, the sound comes to an immediate stop and a thud could be heard infront of the door.

The two officers immediately hover their hand infront of their guns, preparing themselves for whatever could be behind that door.

“Sir, should we kick the door down?”

“No, boot,” Bradford responds swiftly, “We don’t know what’s behind the door — it could be a bomb, and if we kick the door down, the bomb could explode.”

As he finishes his sentence, the door opens halfway, a woman appears, wearing a pair of joggers and an old, oversized t-shirt. She looks up, a faint cut on her chin, a bruise going around her neck, a faint slap mark on her face and bruises decorating her body. Her hair cascaded down her back, looking like it got pulled at.

with eyes full of fear, she looks up ever so vulnerably, “is something the matter, officer..?”

“y/n..” Bradford mutters, in disbelief. After a year of her going MIA, afraid she’s dead, missing, abducted or having different parts of her body buried in various areas -- asuming the worst, he stood there in utter shock.

Chen looks between them two in confusion, seeing how the usual grumpy, stoic, hardheaded cop has now softened, broken, with a glint of sadness and vulnerability shining in his eyes.

Bradford takes a step forward, putting his arms out, hoping she’d fall into them like the numerous times she did in the past.

“y/n, baby, it’s me.. tim.. your husband..”

you stare at him with watery eyes. ofcourse you recognised him the second you opened the door, but you did not dare to say or do anything.

especially because he could see everything that was going on outside from the inside through the cameras.

he comes closer, but you instantly take a step back, sniffling, closing yourself out, looking down at the ground allowing your hair to cover your face.

The woman he known, married, before going MIA — an independent, strong, well respected woman — is now replaced with vulnerablility, and fear.

Bradford's face morphs into shock when you step away from him. He knew those looks, the actions. He’s came across this all the time, yet this time is different. It was you, his wife who’s been taken advantage of.

“Ma’am, we revived a noise complaint,” Chen interrupts, “is it okay if we come in and check it out?”

“no.” you instantly say with a hint of panic snapping your head back up, tears welling up again.

“baby, if there’s something going on, please tell me.” tim urges, full of worry, desperacy evident in his voice. Chen notices the way her TO communicates with her with care, love, protection. It’s like he’s under a spell.

“nothings going on.” you sternly respond, “besides, i’m sure there’s more important calls you should be taking.”

before tim can even say a thing, you shut the door in his face, holding back tears. every part of your body wanted to run back into him, feel safe again, away from these people that abducted you, but you knew you can’t, not yet that is. his tone, his phsique, you couldn't help but miss.

Bradford stays standing at the porch, eyes glued at the door which leads to you. millions of thoughts ran through his head, wondering if he should kick the door down and take you back into his arms. but that would be breaking protocol, an he knew it.

“er, sir?”

lucy's voice snaps him from his thoughts and he takes a step back, his eyes glossy.

“7-Adam-15. Requesting additional unit to meet us at 1350 Bellevue Street. Possible location of our BOLO suspect. We are en route.”

the radio on his hip speaks out with talia's voice.

regaining himself, he takes the walikie and speaks in, “7-Adam-19. Show us responding.”

he turns back around, walking back towards the shop, “c’mon boot,”

you hear the shop leave, and you slide down the door, putting your head in your knees, silently crying, mentally beating yourself up for not taking your chance and running away. you’ve seen these sort of domestic disputes before you went MIA, but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on why many people didn’t shout for help when the help was right there. ofcourse you know that many may feel scared, or intimidated, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around how help was at their doorstep and they wouldn’t take it.

but know you know.

“oi, you” a slurred voice erupts and you look up.

he’s infront of you.

his fist is clenched.

a bottle of downed whiskey in the other.

white powder smudged around his nose.

your breathing quickens, muscles tightening, pushing back against the door.

“i—”

the empty bottle of whiskey gets smashed onto the floor, glass shards everywhere, “what do i fucking tell you?”

“WHAT DO I TELL YOU?” he yells, throwing the things off the entrance table.

you bite back a sob, “to not speak when not told to” you whisper, voice laced with terror.

he bends down, you can smell his foul breath, but you avoid his gaze,

“look at me when i’m talking to you, you bitch.” he grits out, and you do what he says, his face getting closer to yours. his unshaven, poorly maintained beard prickles your face. you try to pull away, but your already pressed against the door. his lips chapped and skin horribly taken care of. his breath reeks and you try not to gag. it smells of onions, garlic, alcohol and smoke.

lips pressed together, trying to hold back your sobs and tears, suddenly, a tear escapes. but weirdly, his face morphs into something. something you never seen before.

sympathy.

mocked sympathy.

“awh, my poor baby, are you crying?” he whines out, mocking you.

his thick, dry fingers dig into your cheek, wiping away the tears that escape.

“now, you poor thing,” he takes back his hand, placing it on his ripped jeans, and tilting his head to see you better, “what else do i tell you, what is rule two?”

a sob escapes your dry, cut lips, “to not have contact with the outside world.”

a fat, grim smirk plasters across his face, and then he hits you.

his dominant hand slaps you right around your face, now facing the left. you don’t dare to look back. the pain stings you and you begin to cry silently.

he doesn’t like the fact you’re not looking at him. so he grips your chin tightly and makes you face him,

“fuckin’ look at me”

you obey.

“now why did you break that rule? i saw how close you and that shittin’ officer were.”

“now my pretty,” he cups your face, “you know what happens when you break the rules”

his slurred tone is underlined with something.

something you can’t place your finger on. but you know it’s nothing good.

“that's our guy, Selby.” lucy speaks up, straightening her posture in the passenger’s seat.

she glances over at her TO, who’s eyes are still watery, his grip on the wheel tight. in his head, it’s you that plays on loop.

“call it in, backup and airship.” he sternly says, but there’s a tiny sense of sadness in his tone. his eyes don’t waver from the suspect, slowing down the shop and breaking.

“7-Adam-19. Show us code 6 on BOLO suspect. Need backup and airship.” chen does as she’s told.

bradford get out of the car and his boot follows along, but his gaze snaps towards her, his voice ordering, “no, no. you stay here ‘till we clear them from that car.”

hesitantly, she does as she’s told.

“LAPD, gentlemen.” he announces, “step away from the car and show me your hands!”

selby smirks, “is there a problem, officer?”

“there will be if you don’t show me those hands.” tim bites back, getting his weapon out of his hoister and holding it low, “now!”

selby and his companion ends up showing him their hands.

however, they’re not empty handed.

they’ve pulled guns out of the trunk and begin to shoot at the cops.

in response, tim and lucy shoot back, the shop doors acting as a shield.

but that wasn’t good enough.

a bullet shot through the shop door’s window, shattering it, and hit tim’s left lower abdomen.

a pained groan leaves his mouth as he falls back, clutching onto the heavily bleeding wound, bleeding out. his eyes notice the blood on his shop’s door and groans again, looking up at the sky.

his boot’s attention gets snapped to the left, seeing her TO go down.

panicked, she goes down and shields herself behind the shop and looks at bradford. getting her radio, her tones laced with panic, “7–adam—19, officer down, shots fired. in the ally of Bellview and Clinton. i repeat, officer down! please send help right away!”

putting her walkie away, she stands up, firing back again but then goes back to shield herself, looking at where her TO lays in pain.

his gun meters away from his hand, body flat on the ground, trying to get up.

so lucy goes to his side, hooking her hands under tim’s biceps, shooting back as she drags him to behind the shop.

as she lets go, another pained grunt leaves his mouth.

“don’t worry ‘bout me, shoot back!” he grits out.

the rookie does as she’s told, hesitantly.

suddenly, more sirens are heard, so one of the shooters gets into the grey car driving away, but gets blocked by bishop and nolan, and ends up crashing the car, knocking himself out.

talia and nolan get out, armed, and walks towards the grey car, cautiously. looking through the window, they see him knocked out.

“you good?” nolan asks, as he keeps looking back from where the gun shots are heard to his TO.

“yeah, cover me, i’ll cuff him.” talia replies, but before she can say anything, she looks to her left, seeing nolan run to the direction where shots are being fired, “nolan, wait!”

lucy’s still shooting, and tim’s still down. he reaches into his pocket.

but the shop’s set alight.

chen stops firing.

she puts her weapon away and turns to bradford who’s breathing heavily.

dragging him again, she pulls him away from the shop, but now tim’s exposed.

selby smirks and aims at him.

but before he can shoot, from behind, nolan fires.

so he turns and begins firing at nolan, letting tim and lucy get away.

nolan takes cover.

talia’s still at the car crash and goes to the driver’s seat, opening the door and is about to cuff him, however, he grabs her arm, pulling her into the car. the officer yells out, grunting as she’s now in the passenger seat. fighting. air support’s up and the ambulance is here.

nolan keeps shooting and shelby’s now running.

so nolan runs after.

the guy leans forward, using some plastic bag to choke bishop. but she kicks him off, and throws a punch at him. now properly knocking him out as his head hits the wheel. she cuffs him

nolan looses selby, and so he retreats, meeting chen and bradford.

“you okay?” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath, seeing lucy back away from tim and letting the paramedics take over, aiding tim’a gunshot.

“no!” he painfully yells out, his leg and head swinging to the side and his voice cracks, “i got shot!”

what a big baby.

“you go get him, boot!” he whines out like some child to stubborn to rest pain full and evident in his voice, “just go!”

lucy goes, hesitation still present. his TO got shot on her first day, should she even be doing this?

before nolan joins her, his TO blocks him, “when this is over, we’re gonna have a conversation about you running off.”

clearly, she’s not very pleased, especially since she got strangled.

“wheres selby?” she wonders

“he went through the alley” he answers

nolan runs, and bishop turns around but then back to where she was originally facing, speaking into her walkie, “suspect heading northbound towards residence on Clinton Street.”

“7–adam—07, arriving on scene.”

jackson’s voice is heard through the radio, as him and his TO, angela lopez, drives down the road, but end up getting fired at by selby.

the two get out the shop, as bullets fly in via the windshield

“officer west, get your gun out and cover me!” Lopez yells at him, but Jackson’s pressed against their shop, his breathing shaky, as he shakily takes out his gun.

angela fires, using the shop to shield her.

she goes down, turning to jackson, clueless on why he’s not following her orders, “Damn it! Get your ass up and engage with the suspect!”

“get up!” she yells

but jackson’s face is full of fear, he’s frozen.

lopez looks at, selby who runs away, to her rookie, going back and forth.

she gets up and shoot at selby, shooting his right leg as he runs, making him slow down and limp.

shes irritated and grunts, looking down at her frozen boot.

selby runs down the road, but nolan catches up, bishop and chen behind him.

“hey, hey” selby grabs a random woman, putting her in a chokehold, using the same gun and tries shooting at nolan, but he’s out of bullets.

dropping the now useless weapon, he gets out a pocket knife, opening it, “i’ll kill her!”

the knife presses against the stranger’s neck.

nolan’s gun aimed at selby, “drop it. drop the knife.”

“i’ll kill her! shut up!”

“you don’t have to do this. you shot a cop, but it seems you only managed to piss him off. you’re not a murderer yet!”

nolan yells out to him.

“get back!” selby screams at him.

“i can’t do that” the elder rookie responds

the poor woman whines, in fear for her life, trying to pull his arm, that chokes her, away from her.

“look, Selby we are in this moment together, alright?”

selby shakes his head at nolan’s words.

“what happens next could change both of our lives.”

his voice is now softer, “look I became a cop to help people, not kill them”

“but if you hurt her, i will pull this trigger and you will die”

“i’ll see your face every time I close my eyes, but you’ll never see anything ever again.”

she cries, “here’s what we’re gonna do,” nolan reasons, “i’m gonna lower my gum and you’re gonna let her go, okay?”

“nice and easy. lower that knife, nice and easy”

nolan does as he says, slowly lowering the gun, behind him, however, chen and bishop still hold theirs up, pointing at selby

“you’re gonna let her go” nolan urges

selby nods.

“i’m lowering my…” before nolan can finish the sentence, he shoots selby in his leg and the criminal falls back letting go of the woman.

he groans in pain.

“face down!”

nolan shouts out, gun still pointed down at him as he clutches his leg, “put your hands behind your back!”

he cuffs the criminal and lucy and talia lower their weapons.

backing away, nolan regains his breath, “call it in off we nolan.” his TO speaks up, raising a brow at him.

he looks at her then down to his belt, calling it in the radio, “suspect in custody. code 4.”

sirens wail in the background whilst bishop watches lucy and nolan interact.

a few days later.

tim’s wound is bandaged and he’s grabbing his shirt from the hook, putting it on.

as he does, the nurse wheels in a wheelchair, “checkout time, officer bradford.”

turning, he scoffs lightly when he sees the wheel chair, “yeah, no”

he is not wheeling himself out.

“i’m walking out of here.” he says, buttoning his top up.

“hospital policy.” she says, raising her brow at him. she’s getting him in this wheel chair whether he likes it or not.

“i don’t care.” he responds, sassily, but only to be met with the stern face of the nurse, reading ‘oh yes you are’

he sighs in annoyance looking away.

“so who’s picking you up?” she asks, finally wheeling him out and down the corridor.

he’s messing with his bag with his stuff in, “cab”, he mumbles

“is that all we are to you?” a familar voice calls out and tim’s gaze snaps up, pausing whatever he was doing, seeing the two other TOs coming round the corner.

“hey” he says furrowing his brows looking between the two.

“you know it’s funny, he didn’t tell us he was getting out,” talia teases, “‘cause he’s a tough guy”

“who doesn’t need anybody’s help” angela adds on.

“you two finished?” his finger flicks between the two, annoyed.

“nope!” angela and bishop grin, “smile!”

tim’s confused, but he knows that that look on both of their faces don’t mean anything good.

all of a sudden, they stand beside him and crouch down, angela’s phone snapping a photo, and the nurse behind joins in the photo, doing a ‘✌️’

part two out now!

comment to be added on the taglist for this series or join the taglist!

tag list: @fuckingsimp4azriel @multifandombliss @bacheerawr

→ you and leah met when you were modeling the new arsenal kit for the new season, creating a few advertisements for the socials.

↳ the videos and advertisements popped up on leah’s feed, and she couldn’t help but be adorned by your beauty. she ended up clicking onto your account scrolling through your content and ended up sliding into your dms.

→ slowly, you both began to get close, she started inviting you to games and her team mates began picking up on you — not only because your known, but also because they realised you and leah may have something going on.

→ however one thing you were deeply afraid of, was if this volcano would erupt. you was afraid of your relationship with leah getting leaked onto the media, your agency seeing.

↳ the agency you’re under has an agreement that your personal life should not overlap with your work life, as in the past there has been incidents where they have gotten into legal conflict due to an ex—model’s love life.

→ leah invited you to a game she was playing in and ofcourse you said ,yeah’. dressed in the third kit and some flares, you had your hair in a half up half down do, a black birkin bag and a pair of adidas sambas decorate you.

→ you watched her play effortlessly, she’s not the vice—captain and captain of the engwnt for no reason. every step she took you were charmed. how can one play so effortlessly? oh and when she got the ball, no words could describe how mesmerising it was.

→ now her players could tell how perfectly she was playing — as if she was trying to impress someone. “who you tryna look good for hm?” mead nudges at leah, a smirk adorning her face “not your business, beth.” she snapped back.

→ meeting her in the changing rooms, you complimented her, she couldn’t help but stare at your smile, the very one she got attracted to when she watched the arsenal advertisement. “you played well,”

“i had to with you watching”

“oh and who do we have here?” a teasing voice behind you caught your attention. turning, you saw katie mccabe walking up to you both, and leah introduced you to one another, “that arsenal advertisement you did, really good” katie complimented, teasing leah further.

before you can say a thanks, taylor offers, “we’re all going to have a movie night at mine, you should come join us,”

→ sat next to leah, her arm rests behind on the sofa, as the movie plays on the tv, whilst kyra keeps launching popcorn at steph.

→ you end up excusing yourself to go use the bathroom, but you end up taking longer than you anticipated, your anxiety taking the better of you, fussing over your makeup and hair, especially your lip combo that got ruined from the food you ate. suddenly you end up hearing a knock, startled you hear a familiar voice, “y/n, you in there, is every thing alright?”

“uh yeah leah, i’m okay, i’m coming out now ha”

opening the door, you look panicked, and she notices. ofc she does, she’s a pro footballer, a captain who always has to notice when her players aren’t okay. “y/n, love, are you okay?”

“uh yeah, i am leah,” taken aback from the affectionate nickname, you smile once again and she folds, “have i ever told you how pretty that smile is?”

you chuckle, biting on your lip, now your faces are inches apart, “i mean, your eyes, your ears, all of you”

before she can even press her lips against yours, you flinch away. leah’s expression sterns. but not in anger, in worry.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, it’s just, just my agency,”

leah’s aware of your agency’s strict policy.

“y/n, you don’t have to worry, i’ve got you, i won’t let us get released,”

her hands cup your face, he brows furrowed in reassurance and you can’t help but feel safe.

a slow smile reappears, “okay”

biting your lip, you lean forward and kiss leah, hands cupping her face whilst one of hers rest at the back of your head and the other lifting your leg.

“Great morning, Officer Chen.” officer wrigley, lucy’s temporary TO for the day as tim’s still off due to his injury, says as he smiles at her awkwardly patting her back, “I'm gonna drop you here for lunch.”

“w—what..?” lucy diverts her gaze from the menu to her temporary training officer, her face morphed into confusion.

“oh, uhh, i like to go home to eat, y’know,” he begins stopping in his tracks to face his temporary boot and gestures to his uniform issued trousers, “get these wool pants off, air things out”

there’s a few seconds of awkward silence until he breaks it, “be back in 40!”

he walks out and lucy’s left there, so she goes closes the menu, trying to brush past that weird moment, but is clearly weirded out, as she scoffs lightly.

she now sits at a table, forehead resting against her fist (which is propped up onto the table) doodling and noting things in her pad as she eats what she ordered, but her peace gets disturbed.

“why the long face, boot?”

that familiar, stern voice makes her pause and look up, seeing her actual training officer.

“hey..” she greets, straightening her posture and watches him as he sits down opposite her, “what are you doing here?”

“heard you got Wrigley” his left arm rests onto the table, the other on top of the sofa—like seating style, “he always dumps his rookies here whilst he goes home to eat mac and cheese in his undies.”

lucy’s soundlessly scoffs looking away to the side then back down to the pad, clearly annoyed, “so, what? you came to check on me?”

“i live round the corner,” he answers, thumb pointing out the window carelessly, “i was getting takeout” his face goes towards the ordering area.

his gaze then returns to lucy, leaning forward for a second to see what she’s jotting down, but then back, “so, how’s it going?”

“it’s good” she looks up again, then back down, “officer wrigley is, uhm..”

tim tilts his head, urging her to continue,

“yeah, he’s.. he’s.. cautious.”

“he’s..” tim holds back a chuckle, “he’s what we call a slug.. just doing his time, allergic to real police work.”

“yeah.” lucy looks back down, nodding, “yeah”

“you must like the quiet, though” tim states, and as if on que, lucy’s radio chirps up. his eyes drift towards it.

“Wilshire units, store owner called with suspected shoplifter. Caucasian male, yellow track suit. 314 Franklin Drive.”

“that’s three blocks from here, boot.”

tim says, his voice underlined with something. something like it’s some tim test. but ofcourse, his rookie doesn’t pick up on this, not yet.

“What, a-am I supposed to respond? My T.O.'s not here, and I don't have a car.” she argues back

“you got legs” he sarcastically responds, “don’t ya?”

the poor boot hesitates, grabbing her radio and speaking, “7—adam—21, responding on foot”

she gets up,

“Uh, skipping out on the bill?” tim yells out, watching chen panic,

“no, no, right” she grabs a few notes out and places it down “uh whatever” she panics

“run, boot!” he exclaims, adding onto the poor girl’s stress, “run!”

he watches her run out and turns to her food, grabbing a chip, feeding himself like it’s a well deserved reward of what he just done.

he walks out the diner, the bag of his takeout occupying his hand as he takes his route back home.

but something stops him. someone stops him.

round the corner, he sees you. this is weird. you’re alone, leaned against a grey Toyota. messing with the cuffs of the oversized hoodie, hair messy, draped across your shoulders, lips chapped, eyes red — like you’ve cried — lower lip bit and leg bobbing up and down, in stress. he recognises that. how could he not? you’d always do that when your anxiety reaches at its peak. but his eyes are drawn to your neck, which is decorated with a red—purple mark going around, like you’ve been choked, strangled. to a civilian’s eyes, it’s missable. but to a cop’s? it’s far from missable.

his heart dropped at the sight. he slowly stepped towards you, feet moving before his own head could. the takeout in his hand forgotten. “y/n..?” he says and your head snaps, and your head turns, panic and fear invading your once emotionless face. you step back. and it breaks his heart.

“y/n, baby, it’s okay” he softly speaks, putting the bag of takeout down onto the pavement. the food is the least of his concerns, for all he cares, someone can pick it up, running off and he won’t even look back. but when he does, a shot of pain jolts through his body, his wound is still healing. he presses his lips together, masking the pain, “you don’t have to be scared, just come back to me, back home, you know i’ll keep you safe.”

you pick up on it, on the pain, even if he’s covering it up, like it’s oscar—winning. obviously you do, you know him better than anyone. you don’t miss the press of his lips, unlike anyone else would.

he opens his hands to you. not grabbing you. he knows that. he knows not to, he can tell what you’re going through, and he knows that grabbing you will only make it much more worse.

but to his surprise, you flinch back. his heart aches, tears prickle his eyes.

“you should go.” you pull out, your voice, ever so silent, is laced with something. anger, distain. and he’s taken aback. his own wife, his other half, a well—respected detective, speaks to him like he’s the most disgusting thing in the world. he knows it’s not true. not coming from you, but what’s been grained into you by those gruesome, minipulating men who abducted you.

his brows furrow as he steps closer, but you back away, which breaks him even more, “not without you, not this time.”

“i think you should do what the lady says.”

you look behind tim, seeing the familiar wide figure and you shiver slightly, from the cold, you say to yourself.

tim turns, trying to mask the pain again, mentally making a note to stop moving so harshly.

“and who are you to tell me what to do?” he grits out, facing the man.

he grins, hands going into his pocket and pulling out a pocket knife, “a cop off duty—on medical leave— really shouldn’t be engaging in dangerous situations.” his voice is petty, his dry lips crack as they move.

tim's eyes widen. how did he know? but he's been pulled out of his trail of thoughts when he hears a yelp out of your mouth. he snaps around, the stitches of the healing wound tugging on his skin, but he doesn't care. what matters is you and your safety.

he sees you, tears falling out as you're pressed against another man who he's convinced came out of nowhere and a knife is pressed against your neck, digging into it, drawing blood. you whimper, gripping on the second man's arm, trying to pull him away but that only makes him dig in more, muttering, "comeon pretty, be a good girl f'me, or else y'gonna get your throat slit," heat practically steams out of tim's ears, "and we don't want that, now do we?" the man mocks faking a pathetic pout as he digs the cut in deeper.

tim gets shoved by the first guy, knife drawn out on him as he gets pulled away from you. "think 'bout any cop funny business and not only her pretty face, but yours too will get cut open and i'll box it up sending it to y'station."

sirens are heard, a bystander clearly calling this in and they run away, lightly slitting the crook of Tim's neck and taking you away as you try and fight away from him to go to him, to aid his cut like you would a year ago, your bleeding cut the least of your concern but they inject you, making you pass out as Tim tries to get you back.

"Tim?" a familiar voice yells out, looking down at the ground where his once--warm bagged takeout sat, now spilled all over the ground by being kicked over carelessly, whilst the man himself stands in the middle of the road, hands on his knees catching his breath from trying to run to the car.

angela jogs up, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder as bishop also rolls onto the scene, jackson joining Nolan as they both watch the group of three from a distance muttering to themselves.

"what happened?" angela's face is full of concern, as she goes infront of him.

"sh--she was right here.. i couldn't save her this time.." he mumbles, eyes going glossy, but holding them back, touching his neck and feeling the blood bleeding out.

"7--Adam--15, requesting an ambulance on scene, white, male, (tim's age in season one because i can't remember LOL), has a cut to the neck." bishop radios and dipatch responds they're 3 minutes out.

she walks towards the two, "'she' as in--"

"y/n.." angela mutters, finishing talia's words, "Timothy, what did you mean you 'couldn't save her this time'?" she questions, emphasising on the words that came out of his own mouth.

"did you see her before?" Talia adds, standing next to Angela, with the same facial expression reading 'concern'.

he just nods and the paramdedics come on the scene, going to tim and assessing his wound, making sure its not infected. but thankfully, its not deep enough to need stitches.

angela and talia share a knowing look. knowing that this is a huge breakthrough, your case has been slipping through the cracks, unoffically closed due to how long its taking. the head of major crimes has given up. i mean, he's rumored to be a bit spectical, but there's no evidence. however not your fellow patrol cops, or wade and your captain, or some of the fellow detectives you worked along side. but the fact tim didn't say anything when he first reunited with you, makes them question why. they're going to ask him, and they wonder if lucy knows about this and why she didn't report it. but knowing Tim, he probably threatened her.

from afar, lucy rolls up with her temporary TO, walking towards nolan and Jackson, eyes laced with suspicion, "i heard bradford was apart of the scene, what happened?"

"we don't know.." jackson says, "but i don't think it's anything good, i mean, i've never seen him so taken aback before."

Lucy thinks, but she has seen him like this before. when he reunited with his MIA wife. But she doesn't say anything. Because its his privacy, which doesn't involve her.

"we should probaby do something instead of stare," nolan suggests, pulling his gaze away.

you wake up and feel the back of your head bleeding. you've been thrown against the wall and you begin to feel the pain, the numbness now disappearing and the pain taking over. you groan, your body hurts. like you've been thrown around like a rag doll, which you probably have. you think to yourself.

"ah, ah" your abductor sees you regain consiousness. he's got a joint rolled up, smoking it and walking towards you, bendinf down. you hear the crack of his joints as he breaths out the smoke in your face, your face scrunches. it smells. and he grins, amused.

"aw, baby," he mocks, getting up and walking towards the other guy he was with, much thinner than him, chopped hair, unmaintatined beard which looks like he tried to trim but gave up on halfway through. "you really thought he'd save you, your knight in shining armour?" his groggy voice is infultraiting, the other man laughs as the sent of smoke and alcohol lingers around in the room, laced with a bit of sweat, clearly radiating off them as their shirts are clinging to them, sweat patches evident.

"thick bitch." he laughs with the other guy, as they both go through the cash they stole from a bank, before the whole tim situation occurred. you cry. cry thinking that you had a chance. bad negative thoughts erupt in your mind as the day goes. it feels long, it streches as you get ragged around.

part three coming soon!

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❤️ bradford's secret — reader's profile here!

💙 we meet again — part one here!

❤️ is the second time the right moment? — part two here!

💙 third time's the charm? — p3 coming out by Wednesday update: i’m SO sorry! i’ve been so busy 📝📝📝 i had no time to finish it but i will have it done on friday by eight pm! once again so sorry!

more soon to come!

check my current drafts to see the upcoming fics!