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newobsessionweekly · 6 months

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You will always be my Boot

Main masterlist | The rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x FBI!FormerRookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are a former FBI agent and come back to your roots after many years. Little did you know Tim waited for you all these years.

A/N: This is my first Tim Bradford one ever and I know I need some improvement in this police area. I'm thinking about making a part two of this. Anyways, let me know what you think. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love.

Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k Requests for Tim Bradford are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

The flight was exhausting and the shitty bed from that cheap motel was even worse. They'd think an FBI agent would afford a five star hotel and a warm meal, instead of that reheated noodles you had last night, but LA is expensive as shit. One thing you didn't miss about this city were those self-centred Hollywood "stars" and the exorbitant prices.

You watched the time over and over again, shaking your foot nervously. You are ready to go, but you just can't gather the courage to face those police officers again. The bathroom light is dim and you put the blame on that for your horrendous bun, not because you lost practice. You redo the bun one more time and watch yourself in the mirror. LAPD uniform hugs your curves so perfectly and the overloaded belt accentuates your waist. You allow yourself to wear a small smile today, for the sake of old times.

The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Instantly alert, with your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins, you grabbed your service weapon and badge, slipping them into your waistband as you hurried out the door and into the cool morning air.

As you made your way down the narrow staircase of the motel, the sounds of the gunshots grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you quickly assessed the situation—a group of armed men engaged in a shootout with one another only a few blocks away. Confusion made its way to your mind; why would some people from the same gang fire at each other?

As you analyse their tattoos, some have it on their neck, some on their wrist, it snapped. You recognise those tattoos from your FBI files that lay on your motel bed, two different markings, two different gangs. Dangerous ones, wanted ones.

Without a second thought, you sprang into action, ducking behind parked cars and storefronts, you closed in on the scene, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront them. There's no time to wait for backup. And who'd you call anyway?

With a burst of adrenaline, you emerged from cover and sprinted towards the gunmen, your weapon drawn and ready. The element of surprise worked in your favor as you caught them off guard, their attention momentarily diverted as they turned to face you.

"Drop your weapons! FBI!" you shouted, your voice ringing out clear and commanding above the chaos of the shootout.

For a moment, there was hesitation in their eyes, uncertainty flickering across their faces as they weighed their options. But then, with a defiant snarl, they raised their guns once more, their fingers tightening on the triggers.

Time seemed to slow as the standoff unfolded, each moment stretched to its breaking point as you and the felons locked eyes, the tension thick in the air. And then, with a burst of gunfire, the situation erupted into chaos once more.

Bullets flew past you in a deadly dance as you returned fire, each shot ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness of the morning. You managed to hit two of them, one in the shoulder, that dropped the gun and grabbed their wound in shock and the other one in the thigh, forcing them to fall into the ground. You didn't had enough handcuffs to secure them all, so it was your priority to stop them from running away until the officers arrived.

It's crazy to see how four rival gang members united to get rid of you when seconds before were about to blow their heads off.

"I said, drop your weapons, now!" you demanded to the masked one still standing, gunshots finally stopping. You didn't see any response or will to do so and that made you place aim for their legs as well, forcing them to collapse. "Hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers."

Before handcuffing them, you pulled up your phone and searched for that one number.

"Sergeant Grey" the voice on the other side responded.

"Agent Y/L/N, FBI. I have in custody two of Crenshaw and two of Tongan. I need backup and R/A. Crenshaw bulevard with W 66th Street." you informed Sergeant Grey.

"Copy that."

Not long after you made the call, three cars and an ambulance pulled up to the address you gave. The look on the officers faces when they saw you holding one handcuffed suspect and three injured on the street, was as satisfying as catching those. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

"Y/L/N, FBI." you presented yourself to the officers, you showed your badge and shake their hands, each wearing a mortified expression after they heard your name. "After they're checked, let's get going. I'm late for my first day." you demanded and the six officers nodded as an understanding.

You could tell by the look on their faces, some of them are rookies. You can't forget those eyes, you had the exact same expression when you were a rookie and as Tim as your T.O. didn't help much.

"Agent Y/L/N." a serious tone came from just as a serious man. Sergeant Grey standing tall and imposing in the booking room as you walked the men to one of the benches and let another officer take care of him. As you approached the man, a big and friendly smile appeared on his face "It's so good to have you back."

"Good to be back, sir." you accepted his handshake with that small smile from the morning that you promised yourself you'd be wearing all day.

Your name was on everyone's lips as you walked through the station besides Grey.

It had been years since you last walked these familiar corridors, but as you made your way toward the meeting room, a sense of nostalgia washed over you.

"Is that Y/N?" one officer whispered to another, having the impression you didn't hear them.

"Yeah. Still hot. Heard she's working with FBI now." that remark made you turn your head in their direction, locking your eyes with one of them as he swallowed the lump in his throat and returning to his seat.

Inside, the meeting room was filled with the buzz of conversation as officers gathered for the morning briefing. All eyes turned to you as you entered, whispers and murmurs following in your wake. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their curiosity palpable in the air as they watched the former FBI agent return to their ranks.

"Good morning everyone. Sorry I'm late, had to take care of something so early this morning because someone doesn't sleep." he glanced at you and the murmur stopped when the eyes landed on you standing in the doorframe. "Take a sit." you nodded and sat down in the first row.

"Is that Y/N?" Lucy whispered to Nolan and Jackson. It was impossible to shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move you made scrutinized by your colleagues.

"Hell, yeah, she is!" Jackson laid his eyes on you and gave you an appreciation smile.

As the sergeant launched into the details of the day's assignments and priorities, you found it difficult to concentrate, the weight of everyone's eyes on you making it hard to focus. But you pushed through, determined to prove yourself in your new role as a police officer.

"Today we made serious progress towards the gangs that won't let Los Angeles sleep in peace. Agent Y/L/N, first thing in the morning had in custody four men, almost as important as the gang leaders." your mind zoned out, you already knew that story. But what you didn't know and what's really eating you inside is that specific blond man.

In the corner of the room, Talia and Angela exchanged knowing glances, their whispers barely audible over the sergeant's voice.

"Can you believe she's back?" Angela muttered.

"I heard she was with the FBI," Talia replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Wonder what brought her back here."

"From an FBI agent to an officer? Seems like a joke to me..." Lopez paused as she looked at Tim for a moment. "Maybe something bad happened. Maybe she did something bad." the excitement of her voice was unquestionable.

Meanwhile, Tim Bradford watched from his seat at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Memories of your time together as rookie and training officer flashed through his mind, the bond you had shared still lingering despite the years apart.

"I heard she was the best rookie this station ever had. And it was his rookie, can you believe that!" Angela's mind was focused on one subject and one only. She is more than convinced that something has happened between you and Tim.

"Almost 100 on every exam and she was the only person this grumpy smiled to!" Talia added, making Tim shift uncomfortable in his seat, his eyes not letting the sight of you even for a second.

"That's not true. And I'm not grumpy, I do smile..." Tim responded to their feminine gossip, something he's not doing too often. He still thinks it's a waste of time this kind of conversation and one's personal life is no one's business, but maybe, maybe he wants to know more about you. "Sometimes"

He was wondering as well what could've possibly had happened to make you come back to LA, knowing very well how much you hated the city and how much you suffered the moment you stepped on that plane.

Tim's heart was below the sea's surface, buried inside the burning hell somewhere since the moment he caught a glimpse of your siluete walking around these hallways again. His hands were sweating and the lump in his throat could swallow him.

But you were nowhere far away from that feeling either. All the feelings from back then were coming alive faster than the light-speed and the memories of the time you were his rookie, the looks, the touches, the sweetness of his words alongside the glances from your colleagues made your eyes fill with bittersweet tears. You had to raise your head a little and blink as fast as you could to make those tears disappear and take a few deep breaths to calm down. You have to put this feelings aside. Now.

As the meeting drew to a close, Sergeant Gray turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before moving on to the next item on the agenda.

"You're dismissed and be safe out there!" Gray closed the meeting and everyone rushed to start the day.

You waited for everyone to clear the room, mostly because you hate crowded places and people jostling around. You kept your head low, already full of everyone staring. When the room cleared just enough, you wanted to make your way to Sergeant Gray's office when a big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you on spot.

Some time ago, you knew by heart every single trace and curve of that hand, and now your mind doesn't disappoint you remembering it all with just a blink. His breath winding down your spine as minty as always.

You hated him. You hated yourself. Damn, you hate everyone and everything this moment.

"Y/N." his voice was as overwhelming as always and it made your feet weak. It made you weak and it hit you hard right into your bones. You didn't think twice and as you raised your chin up high and faked a confident expression, you turned to your heels to face him. Once and for all. "I can't believe you're back."

"Tim" you nodded, greeting him with a smile. This time a genuine one, wider and more powerful than the one you had forced yourself to wear all day. Not a forced one, but one that you found you couldn't hide. "It's been a while." you cleared your throat and searched his eyes.

They were staring right into your soul with the same spark and love you've missed so much. It seems like you've never changed, seems like everything is just the way it was. Like he was your TO, teaching you, teasing you, caring for you, having your back and you were his rookie, learning from him, turning into the best version of him, making him proud.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as you struggled to find the right words to say. The spark that had once ignited between you still burned bright, despite the years and distance that had separated you.

"How are you? How's Isabel?"

"Uh-Yeah..." he paused for a moment, the light in his eyes fading. "We separated a few months ago."

Tim wished this words would hurt more admitting them in front of you, would hurt just as much as he hurt you. But it didn't. That wound is almost healed, making room for another one to open.

"Oh, Tim. I'm so sorry" you were sincere, though not with all your heart. You knew it must've hurt like hell having in mind how much Tim loved his wife. But at some point he loved you too. Maybe not as much as her, maybe more, maybe less.

"But I'm fine, yeah. It's past now." he cracked a smile, resting his arm on the table as close to your thigh as you could feel its warmth. "What about you? Making an entrance for sure. Catching those guys from Crenshaw and Tongan, impressive. I taught you well." oh, he knows what he's doing and watching your shield breaking before his eyes, he's delighted.

"Oh, don't be so cocky—"

"Why are you here? Why now?" he asked. You rested your hand on your belt and raised an eyebrow as a response to his questions.

"You know I can't tell you." he sighed at your words, realising just now maybe the things are not how they were. You are not as open to him or talkative as before. You are not in love with him as you were before. But he's not done trying yet.

"Dinner tonight?" Tim was bold for sure and his question took you by surprise. You weighed the answer, but before you could say yes, he continued "I can't lose the chance again. I can't lose you again, Boot."

"Okay, yes!" you pushed your finger into his chest "Stop making those puppy eyes, you know I can't resist." he laughed and before you can walk away, he grabbed your waist and kissed your forehead gently. His lips lingering on your skin few more seconds, memorising your sweet scent, trying to remember it, like if he could ever forget.

"It's good to have you back, Boot!"

"Stop calling me 'Boot'!" you fought back, annoyed, but he enjoyed every moment. He missed you like hell and now all of this is hitting him hard in the face like a... boot. "I'm not your Boot" you persisted.

"Oh, you'll always be my Boot!"

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newobsessionweekly · 4 months

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Matchmaking

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Ever since you've known Tim, you turned everything into a competition, including hiding your feelings. More than a decade later, you finally let your feelings loose with a bit of help.

Warnings: don't think so, pure fluff if u can believe that

Flufff Requested: Yes Words: 3.2k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

When you and Tim arrive at the station in the early morning, almost simultaneously, the air tingles with excitement.

Your arms are loaded with coffee cups, and as you struggle with the door, Tim effortlessly steps forward, his hand finding its place on the small of your back as he holds the door open, guiding you inside and allowing you to score another point.

A rush of warmth floods through you at his touch, but you quickly push the feeling aside, burying it beneath layers of familiarity and friendship. With a proud smile, you stride inside, leading the way.

You and Tim go way back—to those academy days when the competition between you two was as fierce as it was playful. That bond has stuck like glue through all the twists and turns of life, making you each other's ride-or-die. But to everyone else, it's crystal clear there's more brewing between you two than just a regular friendship.

Angela, Lucy, and Nolan greeted you with warm smiles as you approached, carefully balancing the steaming morning fuel. Tim lingered close behind, his grumpiness belying the playful twinkle in his eyes.

You handed out the coffees, your smile widening as Tim stepped forward to claim his cup. But before he could reach for it, you pulled it back with a mischievous grin.

"You're late, Bradford," you teased.

Tim's lips quirked into a half-smile as he reached for the cup, his fingers brushing against yours for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"62 to 58, you're getting lazy," you added.

"I'm not lazy," he retorted, his tone playful but firm. "I got stuck in traffic."

You rolled your eyes at his excuse, but the warmth in your chest told you that you wouldn't have it any other way.

Tim's got this tough-guy act going on, but deep down, he's got a soft spot for your sunshine personality, that smile of yours that could light up a room, and how you're always there for everyone. He won't come out and say it, claiming he's a man and men don't have BFFs, but deep down, you mean the world to him. He'd take a bullet for you in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Whenever you're around, Tim's whole attitude changes. That grumpy exterior melts away, replaced by this warmth in his eyes that's just for you. You bring out a side of him that most people never see, and he treasures every moment he gets to spend with you. He might not say it out loud, but his actions scream it - you're not just his friend or colleague; you're everything to him.

When Tim glanced at his coffee cup and spotted the name Loser,he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle behind a façade of annoyance. "Seriously?" he grumbled, holding the cup up for you to see.

You just flashed him an innocent smile, grabbing his arm and guiding him towards the locker room to get ready for the shift.

"You and I, Bradford, we'll have so much fun together at the spa," you teased.

"Don't get your hopes up, Bug," Tim retorted, though there was a hint of fondness in his tone.

As you both walked away, Angela watched with a knowing smile. She had seen firsthand how your friendship with Tim had evolved over the years, and she knew there was something more between you two. She had watched as you both danced around your feelings, too afraid and too proud to admit the truth.

Angela turned to Lucy and Nolan, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "What's the score?" she inquired, eager to know the latest update on the ongoing competition.

Lucy shrugged, "I'm not sure. Lost count at 45 to 53."

"It's not that bad in 12 years," he remarked, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Angela's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Try 4 days," she enjoyed the shock that spread across John's face at her revelation.

"What could possibly be the prize?" Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Tickets to the season end game for Tim and a spa day at Four Seasons for Y/N."

Lucy's jaw dropped, "That's pretty expensive."

"Yeah, they had 10 years to level up the game. Five more and the loser is gonna pay for the wedding," Angela teased, nodding in agreement.

Lucy's mind started to race, a hint of speculation in her voice. "Wait, their wedding?" she paused, her expression thoughtful. "You don't think...?"

Angela rolled her eyes, dismissing Lucy's suggestion with a sarcastic tone. "That they're both stupid and love each other? No," she retorted, making it clear that the reality was far simpler. "They are going together either to the game or spa."

Lucy nodded in understanding, piecing together the situation. "Obviously it's a date but can't decide where to go."

As the day stretches on, the radio comes to life once again, dispatcher's voice cutting through the quiet of the shop.

"Attention all units in the area, we have a report of a stolen vehicle in progress. Last seen heading east on 5th Street. Suspect described as male wearing a red hoodie, driving a black sedan. License plate 7-Mike-India-John-2-5-9."

Nolan's eyes meet yours, both of you immediately springing into action. "You heard the lady," you say, already reaching for the radio to confirm your response. "Let's go, Nolan. We've got a car to find."

With Nolan at the wheel, you scan the streets, eyes darting from one alley to the next, searching for any sign of the stolen car. Tim's shop trails closely behind, the tension palpable as you both race against the clock.

"Two points for the first one to get the suspect in custody," Tim challenges through the radio.

You can't help but fire back, a smirk evident in your tone. "Afraid you're gonna lose the football game, Bradford?"

Suddenly, you spot the stolen car ahead, "There it is!" you exclaim, urgency lacing your voice as you urge Nolan to step on the gas.

"Go, go, go! We've got 'em!" you exclaim, your heart pounding with adrenaline as Nolan accelerates, closing the distance between you and the suspect.

"Take the next left. We can cut them off at the intersection!" you shout, your voice filled with adrenaline-fueled excitement.

Nolan follows your instructions without hesitation, the shop skidding around the corner with precision as you close in on the stolen vehicle. With a burst of speed, you pull up alongside the suspect's car, effectively blocking their path and forcing them to come to a halt.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you swiftly exit the shop as Tim parks his car behind the stolen vehicle and sprints towards the suspect, but you're already a step ahead.

You draw your gun and level it at the suspect. "LAPD! Hands where I can see them!"

But then, you turn to Nolan with a knowing smile. "Officer Nolan, you have the honor," you declare, your tone proud as you watch him take charge.

Your rookie approaches the stolen car, his gun held steady as he orders the suspect out of the vehicle. "Get out. Put your hands on the hood."

With Nolan taking control of the situation, you turn your attention back to Tim, who's watching you from a few feet away. As your eyes meet, a sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that you've once again proven yourself in front of Tim.

"64, Bradford," you call out, "Start to think you really want that spa day."

Tim chuckles, a grin spreading across his face as he closes the distance between you.

"Don't get too cocky, Bug," he replies, "Day's not over yet."

You hold your head up high, meeting Tim's gaze with a determined look of your own as you watch Nolan take the suspect in custody.

"You're slipping, Bradford," you tease, your voice laced with amusement. "Better step up your game if you want to win those tickets."

Tim chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer. "Careful, Bug." he murmurs, "Wouldn't want to get too comfortable in first place."

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, I don't know," you shoot back, "I'm starting to think you enjoy being one step behind."

Tim's grin widens, his gaze never leaving yours as he leans against the patrol car. "Maybe I just like the view from back here."

You can feel your cheeks flush at his words, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you playfully shove his shoulder. "Smooth, Bradford."

Sergeant Grey lays down the rules at the Shadow Hills Shooting Range and you can feel the tension crackling in the air, mingling with the smell of gunpowder and sweat. Tim's presence beside you only adds to the intensity, his handsome, serious face and confident attitude drawing your attention like a magnet. You silently scold yourself for those thoughts. The earlier banter and Tim's remark about liking the view from behind made you question — again, after a long time of pushing down the feelings that blossomed for him — whether it can be something more between the two of you.

As Officer Dixon explains the rules, your eyes meet Tim's, a silent challenge passing between you. The competition is on, and neither of you is willing to back down.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you take aim at the target, your fingers steady on the trigger. But as you line up your shot, you can't help but steal a glance at Tim, his muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his uniform, his eyes focused and intense.

For a moment, you're distracted by the sight of him, the raw power and masculinity emanating from his every move. But then, you shake off the momentary lapse in focus, reminding yourself of the task at hand.

As the shots ring out, you and Tim fire with precision, each round hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. The tension between you is palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out on the firing range.

And when the last shot is fired and the smoke clears, you can't help but smirk triumphantly at Tim, your cocky grin mirroring his own. Despite the intensity of the competition, there's an undeniable attraction simmering beneath the surface—a spark of something more that threatens to ignite with every passing moment.

"Not bad, Bradford," you tease, "But I think I've got you beat this time."

But as Tim catches your gaze, his eyes lingering on you for a moment too long, you quickly compose yourself, the thrill of the competition still coursing through your veins.

"Care to make it interesting?" he murmurs, "20 bucks and 6 points if your Boot makes it out on top?"

Sergeant Grey calls the rookies to the firing line and Tim leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers teasingly. A shiver runs down your spine at the intimate contact, but you push it aside one more time. You can't resist the challenge, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept.

"I'll take that bet."

"Me too," Angela chimes in.

With the bet made, the three rookies take their positions and prepare to fire. Officer Dixon gives the signal, and they begin shooting at the targets.

But just as the competition heats up, Nolan's attention wavers, distracted by something in his peripheral vision. He stops shooting, his gaze fixed on whatever has caught his eye, and Grey barks at him to focus.

"Nolan!"

You shake your head in disbelief, frustration bubbling up as you realize your chance of winning the bet slipping away because of your rookie's distraction. Glancing over at Tim, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment, knowing that this time, luck might not be on your side.

As Grey announces the results, everyone is waiting with bated breath to hear who will come out on top.

"So, finishing first with the most hits, fastest time, and tightest grouping... Officer Chen. Congrats. You are the new Mid-Wilshire champ," Grey declares, the sound of cheers and applause filling the air as Lucy accepts her victory.

Tim smirks as he collects his winnings from you and Angela, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours and you can't help but hold your breath, aware of the eyes watching your every move.

"Looks like we're going to the game," Tim murmurs, his voice low and intimate.

You meet his gaze, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Uh-huh, Bradford. We're tied. Spa still has a chance," you retort, your tone teasing despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Grey's voice cuts through the air, bringing your attention back to the present. "Bradford, Y/L/N, you both tied for second," he announces, his words punctuating the moment with a sense of finality.

You can't help but groan in mock frustration, shooting Tim a playful glare. "I don't know what I hate more—tying for second with you or losing to a rookie."

As the weekend arrives, you and Tim find yourselves honoring the bet. With the score tied, you decide to indulge in both activities—starting with a relaxing day at the spa and ending with watching the big end-season game at Tim's place.

The scent of lavender filled the air as you and Tim relaxed in plush robes, sipping on refreshing cucumber water and enjoying the soothing ambiance of the spa. With each gentle stroke of the masseuse's hands, you found yourself drifting into a state of bliss, the worries of the week melting away.

After the spa, you and Tim retreated to his apartment, settling in for a cozy evening. Beers in hand, you lounged on the couch, the warmth of Tim's presence beside you sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

But just as you start to enjoy the easy rhythm of the evening, there's a knock on the door, interrupting the peace.

Tim's expression darkens as he goes to answer it, clearly not pleased by the unexpected visitor. To his surprise—and evident displeasure—it's Lucy.

But despite his less-than-enthusiastic reaction, you quickly stand up, putting on a welcoming smile as you greet Lucy and invite her in. "Hey, Lucy! Come on in," you say, motioning for her to join you on the couch. "Want a beer?"

Tim's annoyance is palpable as he glances between you and Lucy, clearly not pleased by her unexpected visit. But you ignore his displeasure, focusing instead on making Lucy feel welcome and enjoy the football game.

“Hey, did you see—?”

Tim turns his head to make a comment about the play, but Lucy suddenly moves beside you, forcing you to shift quickly. Unaware of the short distance between you and Tim, you find yourself turning your head towards him, trying to give him your undivided attention.

Your faces are mere inches apart—lips almost touching, gazes locked in a heated exchange. Time seems to stand still as you linger in the charged silence, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken desire.

In that fleeting moment, every nerve in your body is alive, your heart pounding in your chest as you drown in the intensity of Tim's gaze.

His eyes seem to search yours, as if seeking permission to bridge the small gap that separates you. And for a heartbeat, you entertain the possibility—allowing yourself to imagine what it would feel like to lean in and capture his lips with your own.

But just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, reality comes crashing back, and you pull away, retreating into the safety of your own space.

“More beer?”

Lucy makes her way to fetch more drinks, handing the popcorn to Tim. You seize the opportunity to lean back on the couch as you inch closer to the bowl in Tim's lap.

His hand instinctively wraps around you, pulling you close and your head finds its way to his shoulder, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. Tim's gaze falls upon you, his eyes softening as he takes in your closeness.

For a brief moment, you allow yourself to revel in the intimacy of the gesture, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of Tim's embrace. But as quickly as the moment began, it shatters, broken by the sound of Tim clearing his throat and shifting away, placing the popcorn bowl between you. creating a physical barrier.

When the final buzzer sounds, signaling the victory of your favorite team, you and Tim shoot up from the couch in excitement. Turning to each other, your eyes meet in a silent exchange, the unspoken tension between you crackling in the air. And then, without a word, Tim pulls you into his arms, the heat of his body searing against your own as you melt into his embrace.

In that moment, nothing else matters—not the game, not the world outside—only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. For a split second, you allow yourself to surrender to the intoxicating rush of desire, the walls around your heart crumbling in the face of the overwhelming connection between you.

But as quickly as it began, the moment passes, and you find yourselves pulling away, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the air.

Lucy watched with growing frustration, unable to bear witness to your dance of denial any longer. With a determined glint in her eye, she finally snaps, her frustration boiling over into a burst of blunt honesty.

"Okay, I'm sick of this," she begins, "You're so blind and stubborn."

You and Tim both turn to her with confusion, unsure of what she's getting at. But before either of you can respond, Lucy cuts through the tension.

"Just kiss already, you stupid," she exclaims, her frustration bubbling over into exasperation.

And in that moment, something shifts. Tim's resolve crumbles, his feelings finally breaking free from the confines of his heart. Without hesitation, he leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

It's everything you've ever imagined—and more. His lips are warm and soft against yours, fitting perfectly as if they were always meant to be there. Every touch, every caress sends sparks flying, igniting a firestorm of passion that threatens to consume you both.

You pull away quickly when you realized the kiss was evolving into something that shouldn't be happening in front of Lucy. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you tease Tim.

"Was about time, Bradford," you quip, "Took you more than a decade to kiss me."

Tim, caught off guard by your boldness, can only manage a sheepish grin in response.

"Didn't know you wanted me to do that," he admits, his eyebrows rising with surprise.

"Yes! Mom and dad are finally together," she cheers, her eyes shining with excitement and a proud smile spreading across her face as she revels in the success of her matchmaking efforts.

But Tim's grumpiness returned in an instant as he realizes Lucy was watching their intimate moment.

"Chen, get out," he grumbles as he gestured toward the door.

Undeterred, Lucy flashes a teasing smile at both of you before opening the front door of Tim's house. "Yes, sir," she teases, her playful tone undercutting the seriousness of Tim's command. Before disappearing behind the closed door, she offers one last remark.

"Be safe," Lucy calls out.

"Fifty pushups before every call tomorrow!" Tim declares, his attempt to regain control of the situation falling flat in the wake of Lucy's teasing.

With a pleading look, Lucy turns to you, her eyes silently begging for your intervention. "Mom?"

You meet her gaze with a reassuring smile, knowing that you can't save her from Tim's grumpiness but offering a comforting presence nonetheless. "Good night, Lucy," you say gently.

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