I Read Your Hc For Andy And I Love It! I Read It Like 5 Or 6 Times. I Have Crush On Andy (crush On A

Lonely Christmas

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄 | requested here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army vet!cop!reader

Summary: During a Christmas Eve night shift with Tim Bradford, you glimpse what is behind his tough exterior.

Warnings/Word Count: vague depictions of veteran-specific depression, brief angst, Tim yells at r, fluff and comfort. 1.1k+ words

A/N: This is a dynamic (Tim with a partner who was also in the Army) that I've had on my mind for a while. While this is a really fast-paced blurb-like fic specific to Christmas, I'd really love to write more of this pairing if anyone is interested. Sorry for the short length but I really wanted to get it done before Christmas Eve🫶🏼

Working the night shift on Christmas Eve feels like the opposite of a Christmas miracle. The long night is made worse when you’re partnered with Tim Bradford. He’s had something against you since you joined the department after leaving the Army. Though you’ve never spent more than a few hours with Mid-Wilshire’s grumpiest officer, you know he doesn’t like you, so you decide to stay quiet and obedient to make Santa’s job – and your own – a little easier tonight.

“Merry Christmas,” you greet as you enter the passenger seat of Tim’s shop.

Tim huffs, and you set a small treat bag of cookies from a nearby bakery in the console without a word.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Is Christmas Eve usually hectic?” you inquire.

“Depends on the year. Based on the last few weeks, I’d say it’ll keep us busy.”

You nod, then inquire, “Any plans for Christmas tomorrow?”

“Nope. Heads up, grey Challenger.”

“I’ll run the plate,” you offer, secretly wishing you were in a sleigh rather than a shop.

“VA Hospital reported a disturbance,” dispatch radios. “Two armed men forced their way into a room and have barricaded themselves in with equipment.”

“Responding,” Tim replies. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” you inquire softly.

“Try to twist this into some merry Christmas thing. We’re vets, we know there are plenty of people like us spending the holidays alone, grieving for those we’ve lost, and I don’t need you to make this specific slice of reality any harder than it already is,” Tim snaps. “So, let’s deal with this call like it’s not Christmas and move on.”

As your shift comes to an end, with the brutal reminder that lonely people go to extremes even during the holidays and several emotional bruises from Tim snapping at you more than often, you try to remind him that he is not alone. Over the last few years, you’ve learned to take Tim’s attitude and swings from helpful superior to the short-tempered Bradford the station knows him as in stride.

Walking through the station to return to your lonely home, you’re surprised to hear Tim call your name. You turn to face him, and he pulls his backpack strap tighter against his shoulder. It’s nearing midnight, almost Christmas, and you’re expecting one more reprimand to conclude the all-but-perfect night shift.

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” he offers. “My sister dropped off a casserole this afternoon.”

“Dinner at midnight?” you clarify with a grin. “I’d love to. Only if you’re sure, I don’t want to impose on you on Christmas.”

“I’m free for the next few hours.”

You follow Tim out of the station and tip your head in thanks after he opens the passenger door of his truck for you. The ride to his house is quiet, only the low humming of instrumental Christmas music filling the space as Tim navigates the quiet (for once) streets of Los Angeles.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” you ask as you enter his home.

“Going to visit my sister and nephews for lunch and gifts,” he replies. “You?”

“I’ve got a few people to see.”

Tim nods and begins preparing the food. You start to speak simultaneously, and your expression of gratitude is cut short when you smile. “Go ahead,” you murmur.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” Tim begins. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you about the vet in the hospital. It just… it reminded me of one of the guys in my last unit. Seeing people like us struggling around the holidays is hard, but you know that, and I had no excuse to yell at you like that. So, I’m sorry.”

“I do know that, but I can also understand that your response is valid. I probably would have overstepped, and honestly I’d rather you yell at me before I can do something that pushes you away rather than letting me do it and suffer the consequences.”

Tim’s brows pinch as he asks, “And what do you think the consequences would be?”

“Let’s just say I would hate to end up on the Bradford Naughty List.”

Tim’s face shifts into a smile as he shakes his head, and you grin at him before offering to get plates for dinner.

Something shifts beneath your cheek, pulling you from a peaceful slumber. You don’t sleep well most nights, and for a moment, you think Christmas magic lulled you to sleep. Then you realize that the fabric under your face looks awfully familiar. Sitting up, you press your lips together as you watch Tim blink and look at you. You remember eating dinner side-by-side and watching a rerun of It’s a Wonderful Life. You had no intention of falling asleep together, or in his house, for that matter.

“You look your cutest like this,” Tim rumbles, his voice thick with sleep and concerningly unfiltered.

“But I just woke up,” you argue.

Tim nods, his full attention on you, and states, “I know what I said.”

“I- I should probably go. You have your family to visit. Merry Christmas, Tim, and thanks again for dinner.”

While you gather your things, Tim watches your movements from the couch.

“Why do you care so much?” he asks.

“About what?” you ask, looking up from your bag.

“Me, people… You tried to make last night feel like Christmas. Why?”

You shrug. “Everyone deserves some magic, and there’s no better time than Christmas. And, as for you… I have an idea of what it’s like. I do know that it’s not easy, and though I can’t imagine what you’ve dealt with specifically, you haven’t let it keep you from seeing the good in people. Even if you don’t let on that you do.”

“I see the bad too.”

“Job hazard. Despite seeing that bad side, you still let people close. That’s why I care about you, because you’re a good person.” Tim opens his mouth again, and you add, “That last point was objective, it’s not up for debate.”

“Do you want to stay?” Tim asks after a moment. “You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, either.”

“Your family,” you remind him.

“I’m sure they have an extra plate,” Tim teases.

You gesture to your outfit and slept-on hair, but Tim stands and lays his hands on your shoulders.

“I already said you look your cutest like this.”

“Thought you were incoherent and half-asleep.”

“But don’t I see the good in people?”

Your head falls back as you groan. Tim offers to drive you home to let you get ready, and you realize that you wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with him and his family. Even if he yells at you and calls you cute mere hours apart. It’s part of his Tim Bradford charm.

The Key to Marriage With Bruce and Y/N Wayne

Description: Interview with Mr. & Mrs. Wayne

Warnings: allusions to sex

Word Count: 0.9k

Q: How do you guys spice up your marriage?

"I don't think we should say," Bruce said, looking at his wife with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"We could not name names," Y/N suggested with a shrug before looking at her husband. She always loved these kinds

"Alright, go ahead," Bruce nodded. That should be good enough.

"Sometimes we invite others into the bedroo- Oh, shit, are the kids watching this one?" Y/N realized as she slapped her manicured hand across her mouth.

"Dick and Jason, please make sure all of your siblings are asleep," Bruce spoke, looking directly into the camera. However, somewhere some woman's ovaries collapsed because she felt as if Bruce Wayne's eyes were piercing through whatever device she was watching the interview on.

"But, yeah. We invite others. Not in an open relationship way but in a community effort way," Y/N tried to specify.

"It's usually our friends. We have invited a few of our exes, though," He spoke fondly as he remembered the time they shared a bed with Clark and Lois or the other time with Oliver and Dinah.

"Do you remember your fiftieth?" For Bruce's 50th birthday, Y/N had arranged for a fivesome between her, Diana, Selina, Talia, and Bruce. At certain times, it felt like she enjoyed it more than he did but he was more than happy by the end of the night. Well three nights, considering that Y/N booked it on their private island.

"We had a time that night, as the kids would say." Bruce chuckled to himself. To him, it was one of the greatest presents ever.

Q: Y/N, why did you take Bruce back after finding out about Damian?

"That's a great question. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't hurt by his actions. We were separated for a little bit," She started to tear up when she remembered how betrayed she initially felt. She got over it eventually but it took some time.

"It was the worst five months of my life. I didn't deserve to be forgiven but she forgave me anyway. She never held it against Damian either. Even when she wasn't talking to me, she made sure he was okay with being in a new environment." Bruce reached for her hand and linked their pinkies. He never wanted her to feel that way again.

"Oh, don't worry. I had my fun during those five months but I do love my husband and he loves me," She nodded while looking into his eyes.

Q: When did you two know you were in love?

"The moment I saw her," Bruce lacked hesitation as he answered. He never had a doubt in his mind about Y/N. He loved her so much that it pained him to leave her.

"Bruce?" She questioned. She never knew that was when he fell in love with her. He didn't say 'I love you' until after eight months of dating and their first time having sex.

"What? It's true. The first time I saw you was in a coffee shop, and I knew then that one day, somehow, I'd be with you," He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Mine is a little less poetic. It was the first time we had showered together. It was just so perfect, intimate, and he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable with me," She said softly and began to twiddle with a knotless braid that framed her face.

Q: Do you guys have celebrity crushes or hall passes?

"Mine is Wonder Woman," Y/N said immediately. It was no big secret that both of the Waynes had a huge crush on Diana. Bruce was simply better at denying it.

"I don't have one," He lied but Y/N decided not to press him on it. His real celebrity crush was probably Zatanna and that's why Y/N was arranging that threesome next.

"You do know I would leave you for her, right?" She egged on.

"Oh I am well aware," Bruce admitted with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Q: Do you have favorite kids?

"I don't think we do. I think the kids think we do, but we don't," Y/N looked to her husband for confirmation and nodded in agreement.

"They only really accuse us when they are trying to get out of trouble," Bruce admitted.

"Dick is somehow always around when someone is about to be punished and he's like 'You'd never let me get away with that'," She said mimicking her oldest son.

Q: Do the kids prefer a parent?

"I do think the kids have a favorite parent," Y/N said tilting her head while looking at her husband. Bruce snorted, before raising an eyebrow.

"Y/N is the favorite parent," Bruce said with a teasing smile.

"Maybe but Martha and Cass are total Daddy's girls," She rolled her eyes.

"They do have me wrapped around their finger just like their mother," Bruce gestured to his wife before ending the interview.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap @megamindsecretlair @blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon @lilbanas @certifiedloverwoman @melissa-ashe @hoyoooo

how about something where peter and reader are having sex but reader gets a bad calf cramp midway. peter tries to help by massaging the leg but he's just laughing really hard. overall v funny and crack. love your work btw!

w: smutty smutty, a little name calling.

Your arms are glued to Peter’s while he thrusts into you, you grip him tightly trying to keep him close. The sheen that covered his body made him both sticky and sweaty. 

“Fuck!” 

The back of your head rubs against his pillow, his hands push higher on the backside of your knees, you’re fully spread open and he continues to push further, you’ve never felt him so deep. 

“Baby, you’re… fuck,” you can’t even compliment him, you’re a million percent cockdrunk at the moment. 

You could kiss your left knee with how high Peter had it pushed up, he grunts at the new angle and thrusts deeper. You shoot out a cry of pleasure, his words come out between clenched teeth. 

“So good, you’re doing so good for me.” 

You whimper and whine along with his praises, you’re so lost your words tumble out. 

“Thank you, thank you, you know me so well.” 

Your boyfriend grunts but a smile takes over, he slows down and puts a hand on your cheek. Your mind races but his touch grounds you a little, you push your hips into his, trying to get back the momentum. 

“Are you thanking me for fucking you?” 

You try to clasp your hands around his neck and he narrowly misses, you roll your hips into his taking control. 

“You were being so nice, now you’re being mean.” 

A sarcastic pout takes over his face, he pushes his body down, anchoring himself into place with an arm by your head, the other hand takes your leg to push it over his hip. In one fluid motion he thrusts into you hard, you lose your breath and gasp against the pillow. 

“This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you hard and deep?” 

He keeps going, drilling in and out and your mind spins with pleasure. 

“C’mon, baby. Said I was being mean, is this better?” 

Your fingernails pierce the skin on his shoulders, your boyfriend's aggressive words made you slicker, you can hear the difference in sounds and know he can feel it on his end. 

“Like that? You like when I make you needy? Like you’re a dirty slut who-” 

A punch to his chest, panicked words usher from your mouth. 

“Out! Get out of me!” 

He didn’t mean to take it that far, he thought you liked it, it felt like you liked it. Peter paused, his motions stopped but he didn't move. 

Your leg had slipped down on his thigh and you were met with a wicked cramp that you needed to step down on to fix it, the pain and pressure was spreading up your thigh, a true life or death moment. You pushed at his chest to get him to move but he was frozen, you let out a yelp and threw his shoulders away the best you could. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” 

More aggressive than you meant but, fuck, charley horses were the worst cramps imaginable. 

Peter finally snaps into motion and pulls out of you quicker than he normally would’ve, you hiss at the feeling but jump from the bed, he watches you with scared eyes. He shouldn’t have said that, called you a dirty slut, he was just talking in the moment. 

The second you’re able to stand you deflate with air, the pulling motion eased. You finally had control of your leg back, it was tender as all hell from being locked up but it was your leg again. Picking it up and pressing your weight back down you felt ready enough to finish what’s been started. 

You flop back down to the bed and open back up, “ready.” 

Peter doesn’t move, you look down at the foot of the bed. His eyes are focused on yours, he looks scared. 

“Are you-” 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and it was a just in the moment thing and I didn’t mean it.” 

You squint your eyes and look at his face, “what?” 

Peter’s arms fly out to cup your face, you have squished cheeks and are forced to look in his eyes as he hovers over you. 

“I don’t think you’re a slut. Like, at all.” 

You bat his hands away, “I didn’t think you did but, thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

Well, now he has no idea why you threw him off. 

“I thought you didn’t like it.” 

You sit up with him, “calling me a slut?” 

A nod, you retraced the steps and let out an “ohhh,” then shake your head and smile at your boyfriend. 

“I had a cramp! I feel like you know how much I liked you saying that.” 

Peter’s hand was thrown over his chest, telling his heart it can stop going so fast. 

“I thought you did, but then I thought I went too far, thank god.” 

You scoff and tilt your leg open more. 

“Not far enough, now give my leg a rub down and fuck me like a dirty slut.” 

His fingers dig into the plush of your calf, already tenderizing the area, “yes, ma’am.” 

Stay in the Car

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Tim disappears from the station, and you and Aaron have to find him. After a heroic leap of faith, you save him in more ways than one.

Warnings: this is inspired by a scene in 6x10 but there's no story spoilers, angst, implied abduction and drug trafficking, injuries, fluff

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

It’s been a slow day in the Mid-Wilshire station. You and your husband Tim were called back to assist with a case, but so far, all you’ve done is sort through paperwork.

“I thought we had rookies for this kind of thing,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“They’re busy babysitting crime scenes,” Tim replies.

You nod as you slide the last form into its proper place. Tim pushes his empty box away and sighs. Now there’s truly nothing to do.

“So, this is where the party is,” Aaron teases as he and Nolan return.

“Yeah,” you agree sarcastically. “It’s a rager, as you can see.”

The detective you’ve been assisting gathers his papers and thanks you quickly. Alone and bored again, you ask Aaron how the streets are today.

“Quiet. Not so much as a speeding ticket so far,” he tells you as he collapses into the seat beside you.

“The Q-word,” Nolan reminds him. “Make sure Harper isn’t around before you use it.”

Tim shakes his head and digs his phone out of his pocket. You tap your foot against his leg under the table, but as his brows draw together, he doesn’t look up at you.

“You alright?” you ask him.

“I have to go.” Tim stands as he speaks, and only spares a glance in your direction.

“Where?”

Tim jogs toward the door as he answers, and you can’t make out part of what he says. It sounds like laundry then, "I love you."

“What’s that about?” Nolan asks.

“No idea. Someone must’ve called for backup,” you guess.

“Probably someone at Hollywood. They’re getting calls.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Aaron nods at you as you stand. When you walk out of the station you see Tim’s truck and his shop still parked in their usual spots. You walk past both vehicles, but there’s no sign of him.

“You lookin’ for the cop that just walked out?” a man on the sidewalk asks.

“Yes, I am. Did you see where he went?” you reply.

“Guy led him to a truck. Figured they were friends or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen as your heart rate increases. Tim wouldn’t have just left while on duty without telling you. To provide backup, sure, but not to get in a truck with a civilian.

“Did you see the truck? Where it went?” you question.

“Nah, miss. Sorry.”

You run back inside and straight to Aaron. Nolan is no longer waiting with him, but Aaron has nothing but time, and you need to find your husband.

“Did you drive to work today?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Why?”

“We need to go. Tim just left and might need backup. He’s not on a call, though.”

“Just take a shop.”

“No, Aaron. I don’t know where he is or who he’s with, and I don’t need to spook anyone into killing him!” you exclaim.

Aaron makes no move to hand over his keys, but you need a personally owned vehicle to stay incognito. Tim has his truck keys, so you need to convince Aaron to help you; if not for you, for Tim.

“Aaron, keys!” you demand.

“We don’t even know where they’re going,” Aaron argues.

“And we won’t find Tim if we don’t do something.” You take a deep breath and run your thumb over your wedding band. “I can’t lose him, Aaron.”

“I know,” he assures. “But I’m going with you. Tim needs all of us. Whatever that text was must've been important.”

Aaron waves as he steps past you, and you follow him to the parking area. When he removes a leather key fob from his pocket and you see a Lamborghini sitting in his spot, you momentarily forget about Tim and his sudden disappearance.

“Aaron, we can’t…” you begin.

“Forget about the car. Let’s go!”

You climb into the passenger seat as Aaron starts the car with an obnoxious rev of the engine.

“Habit,” he murmurs as he pulls the gear shift into reverse. “Where are we going?”

“It’s been at least fifteen minutes since he walked out. They could be miles in any direction by now,” you reply.

“But they wouldn’t have gone anywhere, right?” Aaron asks as he looks both ways to turn. “It may have been last-minute, but they had a plan.”

“What did he say when he left?”

“That he loved you.”

“No, before that.”

“Oh, uhm.” Aaron pauses to think as he passes a truck going under the speed limit. “Something about a laundromat, I think.”

“Did he say laundromat, laundering, or laundry?”

“What’s the difference? Besides washing clothes and the illegal money trade, I mean.”

“Landry,” you realize aloud. “He said Landry as in Pierre Landry!”

“Okay,” Aaron replies. “Who is that?”

“Head toward the Hills.”

“Finally,” Aaron mumbles.

“One more favour?” you request.

“Anything, you know that.”

“Drive this car like you want to. Grey alerted dispatch that we took a POV.”

“Now that’s a favour I’d love to do.”

You sit back in the passenger seat as Aaron shifts into another gear. He swerves in and out of traffic as you think of your husband. Tim has to be safe, because you’ll lose yourself if he’s not.

“What exactly is the plan?” Aaron asks.

You snap yourself out of your racing thoughts of Tim to say, “I’ll know when I see it.”

Aaron nods to himself, but you can tell he’s not convinced. Your plan certainly isn’t detailed, probably not even smart, yet you have to trust that it’ll work. It has to work.

“Slow down,” you tell Aaron. “See the brown truck in the right lane, thirty yards ahead?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron answers. “Oh.”

The back window is broken out and the driver is swerving within the boundaries of his lane, but you can’t see why. When the truck drifts toward the car in the next lane, they hit their brakes and lay on the horn. Aaron swings into the lane behind the truck and ignores the people who honk at him.

With the new vantage point, you see a gun in the bed of the truck. As you lean toward Aaron’s dash to get a better look, you see two people moving in the cab. The driver raises a knife, and then they duck down toward the seat again as he swerves toward the barrier between the lanes. The truck moves over a lane, and the surrounding traffic has given him plenty of room to wreck without harming anyone. The new bumper surrounding the erratic (and armed) truck driver provides the perfect opportunity.

“Get beside him,” you tell Aaron. “But not too close. Stay away from his door.”

He nods and speeds up to drive into the lane beside the truck. You toll your window down and unclip your seatbelt as Aaron’s car lines up with the truck bed.

“What are you doing?” Aaron yells over the wind.

You pull yourself through the narrow window to sit atop the door. “Saving my husband!” you answer loudly. “Keep it steady and fall back the minute I jump.”

“But you-“

“Thorsen!” you interrupt. “Fall back the minute I jump. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise your hands to the hood of his car and carefully pull your knees up. When your right foot reaches the door, you push yourself to stand and use your hands to stay steady. You count down in your head 3, 2, 1, and then you jump. Aaron hits the brakes and the distance between you and him increases quickly.

When you hit the truck bed, you roll before you catch yourself. With a calculated movement, you wait until it swerves again to push yourself up and toward the broken back window. Pushed against the body at the back of the cab, you reach your arms inside and grab the driver’s arm. It isn’t until you push yourself in further that you actually see Tim. Tim’s eyes meet yours, and he exhales sharply as you pull the driver back against his seat.

“Move,” you tell Tim.

He pulls himself up from the floorboard and into the passenger seat. The driver finds his knife again and begins slinging it aimlessly over his shoulder, aiming for you. Tim doesn’t hesitate to move across the cab of the truck and pull the driver’s hands away from you.

“Tim!” you warn as the truck begins drifting toward the curb.

You keep your arms locked around the driver’s shoulders but watch Tim. He takes a deep breath and leans back. As he shoves his feet against the man’s side, he grimaces in pain but doesn’t stop. The momentum knocks the driver against the door beside him and his foot slides off the gas pedal. You move your left arm to his neck and hold him tightly as you reach for the steering wheel with your right.

Tim slips forward again to avoid a punch from the driver and extends his arm toward the brake pedal. He groans as he pushes it to the floor, and you use all of your strength to pull the driver back and away from Tim. The truck lurches to a quick stop and you turn so that your side makes impact with the broken window frame rather than your face or chest.

Sirens sound behind you and grow louder quickly now that you aren’t moving. The driver reaches for something under his seat, but you grab the gun that slid forward in the truck bed and aim it at his temple.

“Drop it,” you command. “Now.”

Tim groans again as he sits up, but he keeps his eyes on the man you’re holding. You loosen your grip and open the driver’s side door so the approaching officers can get him out and into custody. He takes the opportunity to roll out, but Aaron pulls up beside him before he can push himself up and run.

“That was amazing!” Aaron applauds as he exits his car.

Tim hisses in pain, and you turn toward him quickly.

“That was dumb,” he argues.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

Tim cradles his arm but nods. You hop over the side of the bed and open the passenger door. Tim leans toward you as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Where’s Landry?” Nyla asks as she and Angela run toward the truck.

“Whoa,” Angela interjects. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Driver didn’t say much, but he radioed that he would meet someone at John Anson,” Tim answers.

“Get an ambulance,” Angela tells a passing officer.

“John Anson Ford? The theater?” Nyla clarifies.

You tune out their conversation as you squat beside the truck. Tim’s boots are scuffed from breaking the window, but other than the scrapes you can see and his arm, he seems relatively fine. You release a relieved, albeit shaky, breath as you stand.

“It’s not high season for the theater,” you add. “Landry could be using it as a distribution base for his new product.”

“He’ll get suspicious when reckless back there doesn’t show,” Tim says.

“We’ll send someone in,” Nyla assures him. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“Don’t,” Angela warns when Tim opens his mouth. “Argue with your wife about it.”

She winks at you as she and Nyla walk toward the other officers waiting behind you. The ambulance navigates through the crowd of police cars and officers, and you look into Tim’s eyes.

“You scared me,” you murmur, taking his hand.

“You jumped from a moving car onto another moving car, but you want to play that card?” Tim challenges.

“Are you really okay?” you ask.

“I promise. There is one thing I’d like you to do- two, maybe.”

You nod quickly, and Tim looks over your shoulder at the approaching EMTs.

“Go finish this case, and make sure it’s over.”

“Tim, I-“

“I need to know. And you do too.”

“Okay,” you agree. “What’s the second thing?”

Tim tips his chin up, and you smile before you kiss him gently. He moves his good arm toward your waist, but you step back.

“You’re sure?” you check.

Tim nods, and you demand that he keep you updated as you step back.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you,” he replies. “Get Landry.”

You salute Tim and smile when he rolls his eyes. Tim will give the paramedics a hard time, but he’s safe, and that’s all that matters.

“Grey,” you call as you enter the bullpen.

“Thank goodness,” he sighs. “Everything wrapped up?”

“Detectives are closing the case as we speak, and Landry is already booked and processed. We also grabbed two distributors who already had product on them.”

“Then get out of here.” Wade smiles as he adds, “And take your husband with you.”

You furrow your brows. Tim should be at the hospital still; it’s only been a few hours since you left him with the EMTs. Wade points toward the roll call room, and you see your husband sitting against a table with his arm in a sling.

Without another word, you walk away from Sergeant Grey and toward Tim. He looks up when you open the door, and his shoulders drop when he sees you.

“We got Landry,” you say before he asks.

“I’m fine,” Tim tells you, sensing that you have a question too.

“Good. Ready to go home?”

“As long as you’ll stay in the car this time,” Tim jokes.

He stands, and you hug under his uninjured arm. You feel him relax before his wraps his arm around you and ducks his head toward your shoulder.

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper. “But don’t ever make me do that again. You walked out and then you were gone.”

“Hey.” Tim waits until you look at him to finish, “Never again.”

You kiss him quickly and then step back and take his hand. “I promise to stay in the car all the way home if we can get food on the way.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but the way he keeps you close as you walk to his truck – which you have to drive now – makes you think he really was just as worried about you as you were for him.

Think Different, Love the Same

Requested by @keyera-jackson! I changed a few minor details but I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!activist!reader

Summary: When 20-Squad begins dealing with an activist group, Deacon falls for you, the group's leader.

Warnings: fictional activist group and charter school, mostly fluff, brief mention/depiction of making out

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I’m calling the police!” a man yells in your face.

“Okay,” you answer calmly.

“Who is in charge of this- this collective stupidity?” he demands.

“I am. And our group is called Need to Know; we’re advocating for-“

“You’re advocating for a trip to jail. Get away from my store or I will call the police.”

“All due respect, sir, but this sidewalk is public property, and your store is not endangered by our presence. Civil protests and freedom of speech are not illegal.”

“Yet,” your friend and fellow activist group leader, Luke, mumbles.

“Forget it,” the store manager exclaims as he tosses his arms up. “You morons can’t be reasoned with.”

He storms off, and Luke rolls his eyes. Your group has staged more than six protests this month, and you’ve come to expect threats from people who don’t understand what you’re doing.

“Should we move?” Luke asks. “He may actually call the police.”

You shake your head. “We’re not doing anything wrong, and this library has repeatedly refused people with physical disabilities and cut hours. They make it practically impossible for people to learn anything here.”

“I get it, I do. But if he calls the police and they actually come, what then?”

“You tell me, Luke. The kids who can’t go to a library or find teachers and classes who are willing to create specialized lessons and one-on-one assistance… how do they learn to respond civilly to police officers? If the cops show up, consider it a teaching moment.”

Luke shrugs before yelling to the small crowd of Need to Know protestors to explain that the police may come. You want to demonstrate the importance of common knowledge.

Your group Need to Know is making information available to all, regardless of age, disabilities, learning inefficiencies, or when they have time. Los Angeles is just a hub, a symbol of the growing problem: inaccessibility to information and bias against those who need it most.

“He actually did it,” Luke mumbles when a police car stops by the curb.

“Who’s in charge here?” the first officer asks.

“I am,” you answer. You hand your sign to Luke and approach the officers with a smile. “How can I help you, officers? Is there a problem?”

“We’ve received a complaint that you are trespassing.”

“Aren’t sidewalks public property? We aren’t blocking any foot traffic, only using our voices to advocate.”

“I understand that, ma’am, but… Several store owners have called and are worried that you will move onto their property.”

“I can assure you that we understand the legality and will not trespass onto private property. What can we do to fix this issue?”

“Just-“

“Wait,” the other officer interrupts. “Are your cars parked in that private lot? Because that could be an issue.”

Several Need to Know members nod, and the second cop smiles as he calls for backup.

“I made a purchase at one of the stores this morning, and we have been into the library several times,” you explain. “A library at which we are all members. Can you charge us with trespassing while supporting a city library and local businesses?”

“Pipe down, lady.”

“There’s no reason for that, officer,” Luke interjects, not threatening in any way but firmly defending you.

“What was that?” the officer demands as he steps toward Luke.

“I only ask that you show us the respect we’ve shown you.”

“Need to Know,” the officer reads. “You may want to read just how much we do for this city. Everyone needs to know how to respect police officers, and that it’s our right to defend.”

“Your right?” Luke asks incredulously.

You raise a hand toward Luke to ask him to stop. “Precisely, officer. We’re simply trying to make that access available. Citizens do need to know how to respond to police officers, we agree on that.”

“Thank you for your time,” the first officer interrupts. He gestures for his partner to get back in the cruiser. “Just make sure this protest remains civil. Have a good one.”

“You too, officer. Thank you for all you do.”

Luke rolls his eyes as the police officers drive away. You take your sign back, holding it up and getting comfortable for another few hours of answering questions and accepting donations from generous library-goers.

Less than a few hours later, however, someone sets out to send you home early.

“I thought I told you morons to beat it!” someone yells.

You and Luke turn together, immediately recognizing the store manager who called the police. When he raises a sawed-off shotgun, you are forced to push your group back onto the private property behind you. Several of them run for their cars, but you remain in place as the man raises his phone to his ear.

“Yeah, I called earlier about trespassers. They’re back, and if you don’t deal with them this time, I will,” he says into the receiver.

“Sir,” you begin calmly.

“No! You said you wouldn’t disturb my shop, but nobody wants to come in when there’s a bunch of sickos out front with signs! Panhandle somewhere else!”

You can handle people targeting you personally but get defensive and angry when they bring your cause into their attacks. Luke widens his eyes in a silent warning not to start anything; you think finishing the argument sounds like a better idea anyway.

✯✯✯✯✯

“20-David, we’ve got a trespassing call at a local library,” Hicks calls.

“How do you trespass at a library?” Hondo inquires.

“Apparently there’s a protest going on, and the strip mall on the next lot has some less-than-impressed owners. Manager of a family-owned organic store just called and said he’d deal with them if we don’t.”

“Not exactly a reason for S.W.A.T.”

“No, but the calls from protestors saying that he has a gun and is threatening to kill the people in charge is.”

“Protestors?” Deacon asks. “So, we need riot control and to disarm an outraged citizen?”

“The protest has apparently been civil thus far,” Hicks explains. “But be prepared for everything.”

“Can’t argue with that. Let’s roll!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How are we sickos for wanting to teach the next generation?” you demand.

“Yeah, well every group like yours thinks they’re doing good, but you’re just making life harder for tax-paying citizens like me!” he yells, waving the gun.

“Man, just put the gun down and we’ll go,” Luke offers.

You see a large police vehicle approaching and are surprised to read ‘L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T.’ on the side. Several uniformed men carrying riot shields exit the back door after it stops by the curb.

“L.A.P.D.! Put down the weapon!” Harrelson yells.

Patches displaying their last names are attached to their vests, and you try to read them all as you see them.

“Everybody put your hands where I can see them!” Luca requests.

You, Luke, and the remaining group members set your signs down and lift your hands. 

“This is a load of crap,” the manager complains as he sets his gun on the ground.

Harrelson pushes him onto the concrete and cuffs him while Luca and Kay move toward you with the weapons lowered.

“Need to Know,” Luca reads from a discarded sign. “Are you aware that you are on private property? It’s illegal to stage a protest without prior authorization.”

“We were on public property before this guy threatened us with a gun and pushed us back into his parking lot,” you argue.

Kay nods and asks, “Were you asked to leave while being on private property?”

“No. He told us to leave while we were still on the sidewalk, and he called the police, but once he got us back here, he just accused us of panhandling.”

“He’s not pressing charges,” Harrelson alerts. “Mostly because he can’t, but, you know.”

“Alright,” Kay says. You notice that his eyes are on you; yours are on his, too, so it’s not easy to miss. “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What now?” you ask Luke. “The petitions for newer, safer libraries is going to legislative this week, we’re starting the first literacy course in a month… We have to keep going, but library protests aren’t cutting it anymore, Luke. We have to actually do something. Human rights issues, political issues, everything that people need to know seems to be blocked by the city. The bureaucracy wants to tell part of the truth and make sure the people who need knowledge most don’t learn.”

“That charter school that, what’s her name, Linda? The one that her kids just got pulled out of?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, Home of Hope or whatever. What about it?”

“She pulled her kids out because they refused to work with her son. He’s dyslexic and has some social issues, and they said he was difficult and simply couldn’t learn.”

“Get there, Luke.”

“Patience, grasshopper. That’s the epitome of what we’re fighting against, and the campus backs up to a public park.”

“You want to stage a protest beside a charter school?” you repeat. “I like that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What are you reading, Deac?” Street asks.

“It’s the website for the activist group Need to Know,” Deacon answers.

“The protest that we got called out to today. What’s so special about them?”

Deacon shrugs. “Curiosity got the best of me, I wanted to see what they were about.”

“Let me guess! Uh, need to know that cops should be defunded, or, no, need to know that women should or shouldn’t have rights.”

“Both wrong.”

“Men shouldn’t have rights?”

“They’re advocating for accessibility of information. The motto is 'Information for All,' and their mission is teaching people, young, old, disabled, everyone, how to find information they need.”

“What kind of information?”

“Human rights and political issues, financial literacy, home buying… what they need to live successful lives.”

“Impressive.”

Before Deacon can agree, Hondo yells for 20-David to roll. He looks into the situation room and smiles when he sees what Deacon is reading.

“Deac, we gotta go. Your friend over at Need to Know staged another protest, but this one turned violent. Even better, it’s on private property at a charter school,” Hondo says.

“Maybe not so impressive,” Street mumbles as he rushes toward Black Betty.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey!” one of the parents entering the school yells. “Just because you were homeschooled or bullied in private school, doesn’t mean you have to find an issue with every knew school your unpaid taxes help build.”

“Charter schools receive property taxes and state funds from district and state based on enrollment,” Luke explains. “Just like public schools. Those uniforms don’t set your kids apart, and the teachers are still just as lazy and unwilling to ‘deal with’ special needs students.”

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t know I was talking to a charter school expert. Whatever teacher you had a crush on, and she turned you down, just get over it man, there’s better ways to work through your feelings.”

“Luke, don’t,” you whisper.

Luke is just as passionate about your cause as you are, and when he drops his sign, you rush to grab his arm.

“Oh, you want to do this? Let’s go,” the parent says. “But I don’t think you have the knowledge to tell one end from another.”

“Actually, I’m advocating for idiots like you who don’t know what common decency is!” Luke replies.

When the parent runs toward Luke, he rips his arm away from you and throws the first punch.

✯✯✯✯✯

You can feel your heartbeat in your eye when the S.W.A.T. vehicle rolls up. This time, you don't wait for a command to kneel with your hands up as the team rushes toward the growing, fighting crowd with riot shields raised.

“L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T.! Everybody on the ground now!” Harrelson yells.

“Luke!” you call. 

Luke’s knuckles are busted open, but he’s winning the fight. A fight that never should have started, but maybe it will at least put Need to Know on the map.

“Are you okay?” Kay asks as he approaches you and the small group of still civil protestors around you.

“I’m fine,” you answer shortly. “Pretty tired of seeing cops at what start as peaceful protests, though.”

He lowers his shield and smiles at your feistiness. When Deacon read your bio on the Need to Know website, he could tell you were a fighter and incredibly passionate; he didn't witness what the passion did to your attitude during the last call.

“Let me guess, you tried to break up the fight and one of them accidentally hit you,” he continues.

“Do I need a lawyer?” you ask.

“We’re taking everybody in until we get a handle on what happened here,” Kay answers.

“Then I’d prefer to answer questions after I’ve received my Miranda rights,” you explain. “Officer…”

“Sergeant Kay.”

“If that’s okay with you, Sergeant Kay.”

He licks his lips, as you suspect, to hide his smile before returning to his team to create a plan for getting everyone to the station.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You signed a Miranda waiver,” Sergeant Kay muses as he enters the interview room. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Lots of unexpected things happen,” you reply. “And most people can’t learn about them, if you can imagine.”

He sighs as he sets a folder on the table. Another officer steps inside, and you recognize him as Luca from the first time you saw them.

“Your written statement matches the story everyone else is telling,” Luca says. “So, either you all stopped fighting to talk and got your story straight before we got there, or you are the unluckiest activist group in the world.”

You lightly tap your bruised cheek and flinch before saying, “I think it is the second one. Two peaceful protests resulting in S.W.A.T. visits feels pretty unlucky.”

“Peaceful protests for what?” Deacon asks.

“Read the website.”

“Told you she was feistier today,” Deacon tells Luca.

“She wasn’t like this the first time,” Luca replies.

“She wasn’t in pain and desperate to see a semblance of change before,” you interject. “Look, if you really want to know what we’re fighting for, I am happy to tell you, but it seems to me that you’re just killing time to do something else. Run background checks on everyone involved, if I had to guess. But unless Luke or the guy who started the fight are pressing charges, you have no reason to hold me as anything other than a witness.”

“I would like to know what is worth all of this,” Luca says, offering a kind smile.

You nod. “I’m sorry for snapping, then. Our mission is basically to make sure that people are informed on basic knowledge. That there’s no bias or endless hoops to jump through just to find an answer or help.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Deacon asks.

Something in Sergeant Kay’s demeanor today makes you think he already knows about your mission… and you. More than that, he seems to agree with or support your cause. Maybe that’s why he smiled earlier.

“Open newer, safer libraries, improve hours for more accessibility, remove enrollment caps from schools, create unique and specialized education for people with disabilities or learning disadvantages. Everyone deserves to learn, especially the people who want to but don’t have the accessibility or opportunity to do so.”

“Then I can see why you’d choose a charter school with nothing to lose by turning people away,” Deacon says.

You lean toward him over the desk and bat your eyelashes as you reply, “I’m glad you see my point. Surely a guy like you can see the good that more education can do.”

Deacon’s eyes widen slightly at your brazen flirtatiousness; he suspects you would be hard to get, even if he wanted to do something. Which he thinks he may.

“Maybe you could tell me more then,” Deacon answers, failing to hide his smile.

“I’ll just, uh, give you two some room then,” Luca interjects.

“Actually, if I’m not being charged, I would like to go home now,” you request. Deacon nods and offers a hand; he helps you stand, and you look into his eyes to add, “Alone.”

Deacon watches you leave, and Luca claps his shoulder.

“Falling for an activist group leader is quite literally the last thing I expected from you,” Luca teases.

“Who says I’m falling?” Deacon replies before leaving and ignoring Luca’s laughter.

✯✯✯✯✯

You are having the first peaceful protest in weeks, and when someone threatens to call the police, you can’t refrain from sarcastically responding, “Ask for S.W.A.T. - 20-David.”

When Black Betty pulls up a few minutes later, you smile as Deacon exits the passenger side. He looks around before raising his eyebrows toward you.

“And you thought you weren’t making an impact. Sixteen calls in a week seem like progress,” Deacon commends. “Maybe not the publicity you want, but who better to change the narrative than an activist group?”

“Sixteen calls,” you exaggerate. “Maybe you should just follow us around then, Sarge.”

“While I wouldn’t be completely opposed to that,” Deacon replies, clearly reciprocating your flirting. “I’m sure you know just how much L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T. does in a day.”

“You’re saying all of that is more important than me?” you ask with a pout.

Deacon smiles as he steps back toward the vehicle. You wave as they leave, and Luke laughs at you.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

“For what?”

“Getting in that fight. You and Sergeant Kay owe your connection to me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon rolls the window down and looks at you when he gets called to one of your next meetings. He knows you haven't broken any laws, and you'll comply, so he doesn't even bother to exit his car.

“Can I help you, officer?”

“Depends,” Deacon replies. “Are you free tonight?”

“CUBO,” you reply.

“CUBO? For what?” he asks with a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure asking someone who you see almost daily to accompany you on a date would be considered conduct unbecoming an officer.”

“You’re not a criminal, though. No criminal record, no CUBO.”

“No dinner.”

“If it’s not because of the CUBO, then why not?”

“It’s not you, it’s me, Sarge. Ask me again after we actually make some progress with making education accessible.”

Deacon smiles and shakes his head before pulling away.

“Why are you making him work so hard?” Luke asks.

“I’m not. He doesn’t actually like me, Luke. Just the idea of someone doing some good; he’s a cop and a good person, so he likes that.”

“You think he’s a good person, yet you won’t get dinner with him,” Luke muses. “That should be illegal.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, there’s someone here to see you, Deacon,” Hicks says. “Activist group leader or something. You need anything?”

“No thanks,” Deacon answers as he wonders if it’s you and what you are doing visiting him.

If you are here to see Deacon, he thinks maybe you are finally realizing his feelings are genuine. He likes you, and, as Luca puts it, he’s falling for you, but you seem unconvinced every time he tries to ask you out.

“You asked for me?” Deacon asks as he steps into an interview room.

“I did. I wanted to let you know that Need to Know and the L.A.P.D., after many hours of mediation, have found a solution that benefits us both,” you explain.

“Being?”

“I am taking a step back from Need to Know because it is moving completely online. No more Los Angeles protests from us.”

“You’re backing down?”

“No, we’re just trying a new approach.”

“So, what now?”

“What 'what now,' Sarge? This is the end of me and Need to Know; they have my support but no more black eyes for me.”

“I mean, are you staying in LA?”

“For now, at least. Who knows where I’ll go next, there’s lots of activist groups in the world and surely one of them will need a leader at some point.”

“If you’re so insistent on standing up for the little guy, being a voice for the voiceless, why not become a cop or a special ed teacher? Something a bit more…”

“Tangible?”

“I was going to say hands-on, yeah.”

“Some people just aren’t cut out for that, I guess. Maybe I’ll see you around, Sarge.”

“Wait,” Deacon calls. “Moving the cause to a bigger platform has to count as progress. You said I could ask you to dinner after you made progress.”

“You don’t want me, Sergeant Kay. I’ll leave the do-gooding up to you.”

Deacon, once again, watches you leave. He knows that ‘maybe I’ll see you around’ means you will never see him again, so he has to accept that you are going your separate ways. He met you, though, and that was good.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Drinks are on me, who’s coming?” Hondo yells.

“I’m in!” Luca answers.

“Can’t turn down free anything,” Street adds.

“Deac? We need to get your mind off her, so you’re coming too,” Hondo says.

“Fine. But I’m not doing karaoke with Street again,” Deacon agrees.

“Just because I out-sang you,” Street taunts. “Admit defeat and move on, Deac.”

“Trust me, kid, I’m trying.”

Street shrugs at Luca, both aware that Deacon is no longer talking about karaoke.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Luke, please don’t,” you request as he stands.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises before walking to the hostess stand.

“Deacon Kay!” someone yells across the room.

Your eyes raise immediately, and you accidentally lock eyes with the one man you can’t stop thinking about. Seeing him is a surprise, though not unwelcome. You smile, and he mutters something to Luca before setting his glass down and walking toward you.

“You did say I’d see you around,” Deacon tells you.

“I did. And here you are.”

“You, uh, you want to…”

“Go somewhere a little quieter?” you suggest.

Deacon nods, and you take his hand to lead him outside. You lean against the outside wall and wait for Deacon to speak.

“This is awkward,” Deacon mumbles.

“It could be worse,” you point out.

“How?”

You smile as you lean toward him. Deacon meets you halfway and grabs your waist as he kisses you. In all the moments you have spent thinking of him, you convinced yourself that he was the best man you’ve ever met, and now you are sure of it. More importantly, you believe his advances were genuine, his feelings as real as yours.

The door beside you opens, and you pull away from Deacon when someone gasps. Luke is staring at you with his mouth open, and Deacon’s team appears behind him with similar surprised expressions.

“Do you really like me?” you whisper.

Deacon gestures for Luke to close the door before looking at you.

“I really do,” he replies.

“Good.” You run your finger over his tie as you admit, “Because I really like you, too.”

“So, you’ve made progress, without sacrificing your feistiness, I may add,” Deacon responds. “Now what?”

“I think we try this. Surely there can be more to our relationship than protests and S.W.A.T. calls.”

“I agree.”

You smile, but Deacon kisses you again before you say anything more. Deacon moves you backward and presses you against the wall with his hand between your head and the bricks. Making out with Deacon in an alley was not how you expected this to go but Sergeant Kay is the best thing that has ever happened to you, perhaps even better than Need to Know making the national news.

“Wait,” you pant. Deacon pulls back enough to look into your eyes, and you ask, “Is Deacon really your first name?”

“Is that relevant to trying this?” Deacon jokes as he slips his hand into yours.

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Feat Abbot Staff!!

Carmy hated Sundays.

The Bear was closed and for a man used to the relentless pace of a kitchen—orders flying in, knives slicing, pans clattering—the stillness of a day off felt more like a curse than a blessing. Without the chaos to ground him, he was left alone with his thoughts, something he avoids at all coast. He’d tried to fill the hours: cleaning his already spotless apartment, flipping through a cookbook he’d read a dozen times, even going for a run. But nothing seemed to stick. The quiet only made the knots in his chest tighten.

That’s why he was here, walking aimlessly through the park, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie. The air was crisp, the kind of late-autumn chill that bit at your nose but wasn’t cold enough to send you running for cover. Leaves crunched under his sneakers, their vivid oranges and yellows scattered across the path like nature’s version of confetti. The walk wasn’t fixing anything, but at least it gave him something to do. Something to focus on other than the gnawing sense that he should be doing more—even if he wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.

The distant sound of cheering, music, laughter, and the unmistakable squeak of sneakers against asphalt drew his attention. Rounding a corner, he spotted the commotion: the park’s basketball court was packed with people, all gathered around a lively game. A colorful banner hung crookedly above the entrance: Teachers vs. Parents Fundraiser—Help Abbott Elementary Score New Desks!

Carmy slowed his steps, curiosity tugging at him. Abbott Elementary. He’d heard you mention it in passing—how you loved your chaotic fourth graders, even when they tested your patience. You’d shared stories that had made him laugh more than he expected, like the time students were ‘desking’ and one of her coworkers splint her ankle.

On the court, two teams—one in bright shirts labeled Teacher Squad—were in the middle of a heated game. The crowd around the edges was just as lively, holding signs and hollering encouragement. Kids raced around with ice cream cones, parents juggled snacks and folding chairs, and a few teachers shouted at their teammates with varying levels of enthusiasm... And cameras?

Carmy’s gaze drifted toward the sidelines, and that’s when he saw you.

You were holding a clipboard, looking equal parts coach, cheerleader, and chaos manager, laughing as a tall man in a Teacher Squad t-shirt tried to dribble past a petite woman in braids who had the energy of someone far too invested in a friendly game.

“Janine!” you shouted, waving your clipboard. “Stick to defense, not interpretive dance!”

Janine threw her arms up. “I am playing defense! I just happen to be expressive about it!”

Another man—who Carmy guessed was not a regular athlete—tried to block someone but ended up tripping over his own feet.

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd as a woman with an air of authority rolled her eyes. “Jacob, for heaven’s sake, plant your feet!”

“I’m working on it!” The man, Jacob, shouted back, sweating bullets.

Meanwhile, on a DJ setup at the edge of the court, a woman stood at a table with a microphone in one hand and a portable turntable in the other. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and a sparkly "Finest Principal of the Year" t-shirt.

She leaned into the mic, her voice dripping with confidence. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and everyone else lucky enough to witness this greatness, welcome to The Ava Coleman’s Show! Featuring basketball, fundraising, and these fabulous beats brought to you by yours truly.”

Carmy was unable to look away from the scene. It was chaos—absolute, unfiltered chaos—but there was something oddly magnetic about it.

You caught sight of him before he could decide whether to leave or stay. Your eyes lit up in recognition, and you broke into a grin, waving him over. “Carmy? Hey!”

He froze, realizing he’d been caught observing, he hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to you. “Uh, hey.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, jogging over to the sideline with a bright smile.

“Just walking,” he said, his tone casual, though his eyes lingered on you a little longer than he intended. “Didn’t know there was an event.”

You grinned, gesturing to the chaos behind you. “Yep! Teachers vs. Parents fundraiser. Most desks in my classroom are about two good elbows away from falling apart, so here we are.”

“That bad?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You have no idea." You laugh.

Carmy glanced at the court, where a small woman—Janine, if he recalled correctly—attempted a layup… and missed. Spectacularly. The ball rebounded off the rim and smacked into Jacob, who yelped and stumbled backward into an older woman, spilling her lemonade.

“Jacob!” The woman scolded, dabbing at her blouse with a napkin. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you made it this far in life.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” Jacob said, raising his hands defensively before being yanked back into formation by a red haired woman.

“Quit standing there like a scarecrow, Jacob,” she barked. “Play defense, for crying out loud! And somebody get Barbara another lemonade.”

“Looks... intense.” Carmy tells her.

“Oh, it is,” you said with mock seriousness. “Melissa’s out for blood, Barbara’s refusing to play, and Janine... well, she's... enthusiastic. The only one that can give us a fighting chance is Gregory." You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder toward the court.

On the court, a tall man with a serious demeanor—whom Carmy guessed was Gregory—executed a perfect jump shot, earning cheers from the teacher's side. Nearby, Janine with a bright smile, clapped enthusiastically.

"Nice shot, Gregory!" Janine called out, her admiration evident.

Carmy chuckled softly,“Sounds like you’ve got it covered.”

Before you could respond, the DJ's, Ava, voice boomed over the mic again. “Heads up! This next track is dedicated to the parents who thought they could outplay me.”

She hit a button, and Jump Around blared from the speakers.

“Is she always like this?” Carmy asked, nodding toward Ava.

“Always,” you said, grinning. “But we love her. Mostly... she's what I like to call a creative leader."

“So, this is what you do on Sundays?” He asked.

“Not every Sunday,” you said, shrugging. “But when the kids need desks, we show up. Gotta support the cause, right?”

He nodded, shifting his weight. “Seems like a good cause.”

“It is,” you said warmly, then tilted your head at him. “You can stay if you want. No pressure. But, it’s more fun than wandering around on your own, I promise.”

He hesitated, his instinct to keep moving clashing with the unexpected comfort of your presence. “I don’t know…”

“C’mon,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “I’ll even buy you a cupcake from the snack table. Chocolate, with sprinkles. The good kind.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s your pitch? A cupcake?”

“Best ones in town,” you replied confidently. “Baked by Barbara herself. And trust me, if you’ve never had a Barbara Howard cupcake, you haven’t lived.”

For a moment, he debated it. Sundays were his least favorite day for a reason. But here, in the middle of this chaos—your chaos—it didn’t feel so bad. Finally, he let out a small sigh and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

“Good choice,” you replied, patting his shoulder before gesturing toward an empty spot on the sidelines. “Park it there, Chef Carmy. You’re about to witness the greatest—and messiest—game of all time.”

He watched as you jogged back, clipboard in hand, before stopping in front of Barbara, who was comfortably seated on a folding chair with her arms crossed and a bottle of water balanced neatly on her knee.

“Alright, Barbie, the game's still on track and we are five points down,” you said, tapping your clipboard against your hip with mock authority.

Barbara didn’t even flinch, raising a single unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh no, dear. I’ve done my part. My knees are not built for this level of foolishness.”

“But the kids need you!” you countered, raising your hands in a dramatic display of desperation. “Think of the desks, Barbara. The desks!”

Barbara waved a hand dismissively, though Carmy caught the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at her lips. “The children will survive, desks or no desks. But I will not survive chasing a basketball like a teenager. It’s your turn.”

You let out a dramatic, theatrical sigh, tossing your clipboard onto the bench. “Fine! Guess I’ll have to take one for the team. Again. The things I do for education.”

Barbara chuckled softly, waving you off. “Do your best, dear.”

Carmy leaned against the fence, arms crossed, as he settled in to watch. His eyes tracked your movements on the court as you threw yourself into the game with unrelenting enthusiasm. It was almost endearing—almost. You darted toward the ball, arms outstretched to block a pass—only to misjudge your angle entirely and slam directly into Jacob, who yelped as he tumbled to the ground in a heap of limbs.

The ball ricocheted off Jacob’s head, soaring through the air and narrowly missing Melissa, who jumped back with a glare.

“Watch it!” she barked.

“Sorry!” you shouted, grimacing as you crouched down to help a dazed Jacob to his feet. “That one’s on me.”

Jacob groaned, rubbing his elbow. “No worries. Just another day of being collateral damage.”

“You’re a champ,” you said, patting him on the back as the ball was scooped up by one of the parents. “Shake it off!”

“Classic,” Ava’s voice boomed from the DJ table. “That’s why you don’t mix bad aim with too much confidence. Someone get this on video for the highlight reel.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, leaning further into the fence as the game pressed on. Watching you, he felt the restless tension in his chest begin to ease, replaced by something lighter.

You weren’t the most graceful player on the court—far from it. Within minutes, you’d tripped over your own shoelaces, collided with Janine during an overly enthusiastic pass, and accidentally launched the ball straight into Gregory’s face. But every stumble, every misstep, was met with your laughter—a sound so warm and genuine it seemed to ripple through the air, softening everything around it.

Carmy’s smirk deepened as he watched you jog back to your spot, waving apologetically to Gregory, who gave you a long-suffering look in return.

“C’mon, Chef Carmy,” you called out suddenly, spotting him on the sidelines. “Don’t just stand there! Grab a cupcake or something! Ava promised to drop the bass for every basket we score.”

“If you score,” Ava chimed in over the mic, smirking as she adjusted her oversized sunglasses. “Let’s not set unrealistic expectations.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ava!” you shouted back, rolling your eyes.

Carmy chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure what had drawn him here or why he’d stayed, but as he leaned against the fence, watching the chaotic mix of personalities on the court, he realized something. For the first time in months, he wasn’t thinking about work. He wasn’t worrying about what needed to be done, what had gone wrong, or what could go wrong next.

Instead, he was just... here. Watching you light up the court with your unrelenting energy, the way you made even the smallest moments feel big like they mattered. Watching the Abbott crew—imperfect, loud, and utterly ridiculous—made his day feel like the best day of the week so far.

And when the game ended with a triumphant, if not entirely skilful, shot from Melissa, Carmy found himself clapping along with the rest of the crowd, the tension in his chest completely gone.

You jogged over to him, grabbed a water bottle and flopped onto the bench, tilting your head back as you took a long drink.

“You alive?” Carmy called out, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

You lowered the bottle, looking at him breathlessly but grinning, wiping sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. “Barely, but I’m thriving in spirit. Pretty impressive, right?”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to a smile. “Impressive isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Rude,” you said, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “But I’ll take it. Cupcake?”

“Sure,” he said, his voice quieter now, but warm.

And as you handed him a cupcake from the snack table, your fingers brushing his for just a second, he felt something unfamiliar—a flicker of ease, of belonging, of something good.

The sun was starting to dip lower, casting a golden hue over the park. Carmy took a bite of the cupcake, savoring the quiet moment. For the first time in a long time, the restless churn inside him had stilled.

And as he stood there, beside you, surrounded by laughter and warmth, he realized that this Sunday, chaotic as it was, might just be the best he’d had in years.

A/N: Heyyyy, thank you so much for the support. I'm on fireee lol. I hope you enjoyed it and tell me if you would like to be tagged. <3

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

Hello! I don't know if you're still taking requests, but if you do, could I please request an imagine where the reader and eddie are best friends and the reader gets really injured when Venom is in a fight, bonus points if eddie has to do cpr to revive her. Thank you so so much!

~Hazard of Our Friendship~

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: drowning mention, knives, graphic depictions of violence

Genre: fluffy angst

Summary: Your best friend has a symbiotic alien sharing his body which means sometimes he gets attacked while you're just trying to discuss a movie.

A/N: Oh darling my asks are always open~! xo hope you like it!

***

You scoff as you listen to Eddie talk. You can't believe what he's saying.

"You're crazy! You seriously think that was better than the second one?" You ask incredulously.

"I think each movie gets better than the last." Eddie says.

"What're you smoking and how do I get some because you are clearly on something." You snort.

"I liked it I don't see the problem." He shrugs.

"That's not the question though! I liked it too but it's NOT better than the second one was!" You shake your head.

"You do this every time we see one of these movies." Eddie chuckles.

"Because the second was the best! It's in a league of its own they're never gonna do better than that." You say.

"Okay fine ye of little faith and quick judgment- what could they do to make the next movie better than the second movie?" Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.

"The second movie was just iconic! When they realize and manage to replicate the intensity with which that movie hit emotionally, they'll have another masterpiece. It's not about duplicating though, they shouldn't repeat the plot, they just need to figure out how to create a similar pull. That's what I'm looking for I need a pull and the newer movies just haven't been pulling me."

"You're insane you know that?"

"I think you need to rewatch the second movie. Clearly you aren't properly remembering the absolute magic of the second movie dude." You shake your head.

"Clearly." He snorts. A moment passes and notice something change abruptly in your friend's demeanor.

"What?" You frown at him.

"What?" He snaps his head towards you.

"Your energy shifted, something changed. Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He says quickly.

"You're on edge. I can see it so don't lie to me. Especially because you're starting to stress me out." You tell him.

"Venom's a little- freaked. He thinks we've got company." Eddie admits.

"Not the good kind I'm guessing. Based on your... disposition."

"Just- stay close, it'll be fine." Eddie says gently resting his hand on your arm. He's clearly on high alert, eyes scanning every darkened alley you walk by. You catch movement off to one side and grab Eddie's attention.

"E- could those be our visitors?" You ask. Eddie follows your eye.

"Fuck me- it's fine, just stay behind me." Eddie steps forward and uses his arm to nudge you behind him.

"Come on Eddie, they're just some guys. This should be easy." You say.

"Unfortunately if they've come for me it's never just some guys." Eddie sighs. "Look guys- I'm sure you don't want any trouble, whatever you think you're gonna gain from this, you'll lose a lot more- trust me." Eddie tells the group. There's maybe 5 of them it seems, but you can't be sure others aren't lurking nearby.

"Yeah- that's the bastard." One of the guys grumbles and Eddie's eyebrow furrows.

"Wait sorry- do you know me or something?" Eddie asks, tilting his head.

"You fucking jackass-" The guy is clearly appalled by Eddie's perceived audacity and starts towards you and Eddie.

"Venom." Eddie calls.

"COPY." Venom replies before overtaking Eddie. You step back a bit to accommodate the size change. Also to give him room, Venom's fighting style is- messy from what you know.

You've never actually seen them fight, although Eddie didn't try to hide Venom from you, he was very intentional about limiting your exposure to him. You're not totally sure why, but it doesn't stop you from making nice with him. Eddie swears the relationship between them is mostly symbiotically beneficial, which means he'll probably be around for a while. Which means he'll be around you for a while, and you want that to be a net positive. So you always ask about him and include him in your relationship with Eddie, and bring him chocolate any time you hang out with them. Eddie swears you spoil him so you hope that means he likes you.

Venom seems to be handling the fight pretty well, I mean he can grow appendages at will, no matter how many of them there are, they can't outmatch him.

"You're coming with me." A gruff voice says wrapping a hand around your wrist.

You snap your head around quickly.

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You take your index and middle finger and jam them into the inner corners of his eyes.

He screams as you dig your digits in deeper.

"You're ruining movie night." You drag him forward by his eye sockets and bash his head into your knee knocking him out. "Asshole." You huff.

"Eulgch gross now my hand is covered in eye juice." You frown. You bend over and wipe your hand on his shirt.

"That's better I guess." You say stepping over the guy to wear Venom has dragged the fight, near the pier.

"Not so fast." A voice grits out behind you as arms encircle your body, trapping you.

"Hey let go of me you bastard." You grunt squirming against his hold.

Your movements stop abruptly with a sharp gasp when you feel cool metal against your throat. A knife.

"Really? An 8 foot monster is stomping out your little pals and you go for the one who isn't doing shit? Coward." You scoff.

"Shut up." He spits through clenched teeth.

"Eddie!" You call out. "No rush but when you get a second some help would be nice! VENOM!" You shout, the blade digging ever so slightly into your skin.

Venom snaps his head towards you and immediately changes his focus, heading towards you and the person holding you hostage.

Your captor walks you backwards as Venom closes in but as he reaches an appendage towards you one of the others pulls out a flamethrower. Where did he get a fucking flamethrower?!

"Venom look out!" You shout but you're not quick enough.

The fire hits him. He lets out a roar of a sound. And then retreats into Eddie, who falls to his knees.

"Eddie?!" You call frantically.

"I'm fine! Just- gotta give Venom time to recover." Eddie grunts.

"If you're fine get up and turn around you dumbass!" You shout. The guy with the flamethrower is closing in on Eddie, luckily he's dropped the thing. Not really a smart move in your opinion but it makes Eddie's chances of beating him without Venom higher.

Eddie spins on his heel just in time to dodge a wild swing from mister flamethrower.

"Woah. Shit." Eddie says. He punches the guy directly in the face and the two start a proper fist fight.

"Hang on y/n I'll be right there!" He tells you between throwing and dodging punches.

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on going anywhere!" You say.

"Could do without the sass at this moment dude!" He says.

"I've got a knife to my throat I'll do whatever I want to cope with it!" You shoot back.

"Sorry about all this!"

"Hazard of our friendship! I know how this goes!" You say.

Eddie finally takes down his opponent and turns to you. He runs in your direction, Venom at some point taking over and freaking out your captor. For a guy holding a knife to your throat he's moving incredibly reckless, stumbling backwards and dragging you with him. Right over the edge of the pier. You scream as you fall back, at least you've been released it seems. Your assailant, in trying to save himself has freed you from his grasp.

The water is a bit chilly, it's not as bad as it could be, but it is only August so it'd be weird if it was ice cold. Water fills your mouth as you sink below the surface. You try to swim up, but the other guy wraps his hand around your leg. You can't swim super well as is, the extra weight hindering your movement pretty much renders your attempt to save yourself futile. Still you flail and desperately kick at your attacker's hand, hoping that you can get him to let you go before your lungs give out. They're already starting to seriously burn.

You hate open water. Besides the fact that you're nowhere near a strong enough swimmer based on the dangers of open water like this, you can't see anything and not knowing what lurks nearby stresses you out even more.

You're starting to panic. The longer you're down here, the more undersea monsters you seem to be able to imagine. You're going to die down here and some random swimming creatures will start eating your decaying flesh and your family won't even have a body to bury when they have your funeral. Or if they manage to find you, you'll be so destroyed by critters they'll have to keep the casket closed. Honestly at this point you hope they cremate you.

The panicking isn't helping. You know it's not, and yet it's all you can do as your vision is starting to blacken around the edges. You still can't get this guy to let go of your fucking leg, and dammit you're getting too weak to keep fighting him. How is he still holding on? You feel your body go limp as you lose consciousness.

Eddie's heart drops as he watches you go over the edge of the pier. You can barely swim, you hate the open water, he has to get you out of there and fast. The only problem is it feels like these goons keep multiplying and if they have to keep fighting he'll never reach you in time.

"We have to get to y/n." Eddie says.

"WE WILL." Venom says ready to fight the next guy.

"No, now V! Fuck the fighting I don't care eat them if you have to. Just get to her!"

"GREAT PLAN." Venom's smile is enough to freak out the person standing between them and where you're currently drowning.

Eddie's counting the seconds as Venom traipses towards the water, biting off heads on the way. There's not even enough movement near the surface for Eddie to tell if you're still alive down there. It's taking you two long to come up.

"YOUR STRESS IS MAKING THIS MORE DIFFICULT EDDIE."

"I'll stop stressing when we get y/n out of the fucking water!" Eddie snaps.

"FINE!" Venom dives into the water and manages to find you surprisingly quickly, dragging your lifeless body out of the water.

"Put her down we have to do something." Eddie says.

"WHAT DO WE DO?" Venom asks.

"You watch my back while I try to remember my high school CPR class." Eddie tells him, kneeling beside you.

Pressure.

There's a pressure against your chest.

It's rhythmic, consistent, and just a couple of pascals short of risking a broken rib.

Your nose is pinched and something touches your lips. Air flows into your mouth in bursts and then again with the pressure.

Suddenly you feel water coming up and you lurch forward to expell it, coughing painfully as your body tries to get rid of the water forced into your lungs when you nearly drowned.

"God drowning sucks." You choke out, your voice coming out very raspy and it honestly hurts to say even that short sentence.

"Thank fuck." Eddie sighs, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"YOU'RE ALIVE! EDDIE WE SAVED HER." Venom pokes his head around over Eddie's shoulder.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Eddie whispers, cupping your cheek gently.

"I'm almost offended you thought I'd go out that easily." You joke, coughing again.

"Stop talking! You'll hurt yourself." Eddie says.

"Oh would you relax. I'm not dead, talking won't do me in." You roll your eyes.

"YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE IN PAIN." Venom says.

"Thanks V." You snort.

"Venom she just almost drowned dude." Eddie shakes his head.

"I AM TRYING TO CHECK ON HER. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't you two start. Just- can you take me home?" You groan forcing yourself up. Eddie scrambles to his feet, helping you up until eventually Venom simply takes over and lifts you into his arms.

"Venom I'm pretty sure I can still walk ya know." You say, admittedly a bit nervous in his hold. Not that you think he'll drop you, you've just never interacted with him so directly.

"YOU SHOULDN'T STRAIN YOURSELF. AND WE ARE TAKING YOU TO OUR APARTMENT."

"What? Why?"

"SO WE CAN TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE YOU GET BETTER."

"Get better? All I need to do is shower and go to sleep, I'll be fine." You scoff.

"EDDIE WANTS TO SEE THAT FOR HIMSELF."

"You're very lucky I don't have any more energy to argue about all this." You mutter.

Eddie counts his blessings when he hears that. Of course it would take you nearly drowning to finally allow him to look after you. Little victories he supposes. Granted saving your life is definitely way more than a little victory. You are the single most important person in his life. If he wasn't sure of that before this he's absolutely sure of it now.

***

eddie brock wanting to go out with reader, so she dresses up but venom takes over and compliments her in his own weird ways <3

Your ring nearly snags a thread on the inside left cup of your dress, and you carefully retract it before it can tear the garment. There's a lace edge beneath your bra that's itching something fierce, and you can't wait to take the dress off tonight.

Or, of course, have it taken off of you.

"Eddie?" You call through the apartment, now peering down at your necklace as you try laying it against your chest in a particular way, "Ready to go, babe?"

"Yeah," He calls from the kitchen, the soles of his dress shoes clicking against the wood floor as he comes to find you, "I was thinking we could- woah."

His abrupt stop makes you glance up, and he's got his eyes glued to your dress. It's a new one, a rich brown hue that drapes down your frame like you're a modern-day Jessica Rabbit.

I take it you like the dress," You laugh, watching Eddie's cheeks go pink. He needs a moment to recover, and you're patient enough to give it to him, but venom isn't.

With a series of ungodly squelches the symbiote envelops your boyfriend, sharp, jagged teeth already set in a grin that barely holds back his massive tongue. His eyes are narrowed and it makes his grin that much more predatory, a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"I do not know why Eddie will not talk." Venom leans in, hulking figure crowding your own smaller one, "But I want to. You look delicious. You look like chocolate."

"Yeah?" You grin at Venom, fingers fiddling with the silky fabric of your dress, "Thanks, Venom."

"Do you know what I do to chocolate?" Venom leans in farther still, until you can feel his breath fan over your face. He's intoxicatingly large, and your vision is entirely taken up by him.

"I do," You laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek, "I've found enough massacred remains of hershey bars around this place to know you're not gentle with them."

"I would like to do that to you." Venom's tongue comes out to lick over his teeth, a slimy, dripping, circular path, "But for your comfort I think that we should do it on your bed."

"Not right now," You lament, leaning your forehead against his and kissing the space where his nose should be, "We have to eat first. But maybe you can arm wrestle Eddie for me later, big guy."

"I would win an arm wrestle." Venom boasts, thinking literally instead of picking up on the broader meaning of your words, "Eddie is a weak loser."

"A weak loser who's paying for my dinner tonight," You pinch at Venom's arm, though you're sure it doesn't hurt him, "Lemme see him again, V. We can't be late to this place or we'll lose our table."

Venom is very polite with you. He follows orders seamlessly, shrinking back into Eddie until the man's tanned skin breaks through the black goop that had been swarming it. He's on you in an instant, hands against your hips and nose knocking into yours, "You think I'm a weak loser?"

"No!' You laugh, kissing the smile he's trying to tamp down in the name of dramatics, and wriggling from his grip to grab your helmet off of the counter, "I just think Venom could beat you in an arm wrestle."

"It's true," Eddie calls after you, jogging to catch up as you head for the door, "But it's not nice!"

Whatever happens (Tim Bradford x F!Wife!Reader)

Summary: do to your work as a high ranking national security officer you and Tim get taken hostage in your own house

Warnings: : torture, not descriptive but is listed what happened. Misogyny and sexism (not from tim), hospitals, kidnap, canon violence

Notes:

Sorry for the grammatical errors. I’m new at writing so feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading. do not translate or appropriate my work

Comments and kudos are highly appreciated :)

words: 2500

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You unlock the door and enter your house. Tim is already out of uniform, and he is cooking dinner in the open space kitchen. You drop your bag on the floor next to the door as you sigh, tired from the long day. As one of the top-ranking officers of the National Defense some days were really exhausting to say the least. At least you now could relax at home with your husband

‘hey. I thought I would get started on dinner’ he says as he puts on the stove, giving you a hint of a smile to greet you, something that is reserved to you and only you

‘did I tell you that you are the best husband in the world?’ you ask him with complete appreciation as you give him a quick kiss

‘from time to time’ he teases you as he smirks

‘you are. I’m starving. And it was my turn to cook’ you tell him seriously as you place your hands around his neck as he places his on your waist. He kisses you again, now more properly

‘well you can always show your appreciation later’ he teases you again as you roll your eyes lovingly at him ‘deal’ you tell him as you peck him again before you throw your heels out of the way

‘long day?’ he asks as he lets you go to stir the rice

‘the longest’ you reply as you start to set up the table ‘we fear there has been a breakthrough of info on undercover agents and they put me as head  of operation to make sure they are safe, I need to check each of them’ you sigh

‘well that sounds exhausting’ he replies honestly

 ‘your day?’ you ask

‘some standard arrests. And lucy passed my Tim test today.’ He replies as he start putting the food on the plates

‘tim tests? Can’t you leave that poor boot alone?’ you playfully make fun of him as you sit down

‘be careful or you are going to be Tim tested too’ he says pointing the spatula at you

‘you wouldn’t’ you tell him faking shock ‘I’m your wife’

‘don’t test me’ he replies hiding a smile ‘come on. the food is ready’ he says as he moves towards the table with the meal in his hand. But before he places it on the table the room gets filled with smoke and he feels something in his neck, a narcotic that makes him faint instantly as you do too while he calls your name.

-.-.-.

You wake up tied to a chair in your home’s office. Two men stand in front of you

‘hello y/n’ they tell you ‘had a good sleep?’ they mock you

‘who are you and what do you want’ you ask. This is not your first kidnap

‘straight to the point I see. We want the real name of the undercover agents’ they tell you playing with a knife

‘I don’t have them. They are classified’ you reply

‘and that is the first lie of the night. Our intel says only one person has all of the names, and that is you’

You maintain your calm wondering how they know it. ‘I don’t’ you reply as you asses the situation. You are chained to the chair. Is impossible to break free

‘okay let’s see if your memory starts to work after we are finished with you’ they tell you before punching you in the face

-.-.-.-.-.

Are the screams that wake Tim up. your screams. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he is still in his living room and that the screams he is hearing are your screams.

‘y/n!’ he shouts ‘leave her alone!’. but is useless. He is not even tied, he is chained to a metal chair. He mentally curses himself and your shared love for design, at least if it were a wooden chair he could have tried to free himself. He assesses the situation. he is a cop, he was a sergeant in the army , he should know how to get out of any situation. he needs to help you. His wife is being tortured and he is without a scratch and unable to help you

He tries for more than two hours to free himself, trying to not think about what they are doing to you as your screams get progressively worse

Tim is kind of scared of how you held up, how you did not say anything as they tortured you. He knew you were strong, but this, this is almost inhumane.

The screams stops and he fears the worst.

The door suddenly opens and the two men bring you in. he has the first glimpse of you since they took you. tim can’t almost recognize you. Your face is too puffy and full of blood. They had beaten you up, for hours. Tim also notices that some of your limbs don’t look right. The two men throw you on the floor. You are still passed out. Your hands tied together behind you.

His hearts start beating again only when he sees a feeble movement of your chest going up and down. You are alive.

Tim’s blood boils in his veins. Flashbacks of the last time he has seen you like this passes through his mind. more than 10 years ago, when you were both in the army and you got taken hostage for days. He still doesn’t know all of what had happened to you during the captivity, you never talked about it apart from some info then and there. He had killed who did that to you, heading the rescue mission. He had a lot of remorse for what he witnessed in the army but never for that. Now he wanted to do the same to these two men who had entered his house and tortured his wife. Damn the consequences

‘son of a bitch what did you do to her’ he says in anger as he tries in vain to move

‘don’t worry big guy. She is alive. I must say this bitch is strong. Broke more than 20 bones in her body one by one and still has not given a name’

Scratch that. Tim doesn’t want to kill them. He wants to break each and every bone of his body and more. He wants to inflict them 10 times what they did to you.

‘I’ll fucking kill you’ he says rage in his eyes

‘what a knight with a shiny armor. A bit difficult considering your situation right now.’ The guy mocks him

The man takes some water and throws it in your face to have you woke up, it works as you stir. He throws more at you before giving you a kick. Tim tries to move from his chair and the man laughs at him

‘tim’ is your first word as you try to find him, your eye focus still blurry from the blood and the puffiness until you see him, just a bruise on his face, his eyes blurry with tears for you and anger against them. You sigh in relief

‘are you okay?’ he asks his voice almost breaking, he knows he sounds stupid as you clearly are not but he needs to have a verbal confirmation

‘yah’ you say as you spit blood. Tim doesn’t believe you

‘sleeping beauty is awake’ the man says taking your face in his hand roughly to throw you on the floor again

Tim flinches

‘as torturing your body did not work we will try with a psychological torturing. let’s see if your so little to nonexistent self-preserving instinct applies also to others’ the man says pointing his head towards tim

Your biggest fear comes true. Tim is going to suffer because of you.

‘tell me the real names of the undercover agents or I make him my own punching ball’ the kidnapper says pointing to tim

Tim stays silent looking in your eyes saying with them ‘don’t’. you spit some blood and stay silent. Your heart breaking as you just basically agreed for the man to torture your husband

‘well then’ the man says as he punches tim. You look away. The other man grabs your face again and forces you to look as He punches tim again and again . tim tries to not react, knowing that if the situation was reversed he would give in immediately at the sight if you suffering. He tries to be strong for you, to not have you give in to the blackmail

‘okay clearly you don’t care enough’ the man says as he pauses his assault on tim.  ‘who is this one anyhow’ he asks as tim too spits some blood, his face now too puffy and bruised.

‘no one important. The local supermarket delivery guy. He was just dropping my food delivery’ you lie through your teeth

Tim knows you are saying that to protect him, to not have them use him as leverage more than they are already doing, but it hurts anyhow

‘no one important? Hum. There are quite a few pictures of this delivery guy around here’ the kidnapper says as his partner picks up and passes to him a photo of you and tim where you two are kissing

‘no way, this is your bitch?’ the man asks tim connecting the dots

‘don’t call her that’ tim replies his anger violent

‘tim’ you warn him, knowing his rage will only harm him

‘oh I see. You are her bitch’ the man says pointing at tim ‘this changes everything’ the man says to his partner laughing ‘if torture on her won’t work let’s see how she reacts when her man is the one being tortured’

The second kidnapper picks up the boiling hot knife he had been warming up and passes it to the leader who shows you the knife before going towards tim

‘don’t tell them anything’ tim tells you dead serious ‘I can handle it. I promise’

The kidnapper burns tim and cuts him, when he breaks his leg you scream. Tim still tells you to not speak as you start to cry but remain silent.

‘I see. We have a fellow hero here’ the man mocks tim, now bloody almost as you

‘ I didn’t expect this to be this difficult. I will give you that. Okay now time to stop the games’ he says taking out a gun and pointing it to tim ‘speak or I put a bullet between his eyes’

‘y/n don’t tell him anything, I am just one person’ tim says trying to convince you. He is a  cop his job is to protect people. His life counts less than the one of the undercover agents.

‘you choose y/n’ the man mocks you ‘300 agents or the man you love’

‘please-‘  you plead them. The man puts the gun on tim’s forehead

‘last chance’ he says as he charges the gun while tim mouths ‘I love you’ as he closes his eyes waiting for the inevitable end

‘okay okay I will tell you!’ you shout ‘But please let him go.’  You plead them

‘see? It wasn’t that difficult’ the man replies as he drops the gun from tim’s head

‘Let’s make a deal I will voluntary come with you, I will be a valuable hostage, but let him go. Please I beg you’ you continue. You don’t care what happens to you, you just want to save tim and the agents

‘y/n quit the crap don’t-‘ tim says as the man punches him to shut him up before laughing

‘the great y/n y/l/n the youngest  director of Internal Security Special Unit  and one of the top ranking National Defence officers is begging me? Wow. and all for him? a woman is a woman after all, he must fuck you well’ the guy mocks you, while the other laughs

Tim is boiling in rage at the blunt sexism and insults of the man in front of you. You don’t care anymore, you will do whatever it takes to get Tim out

‘please let him go’ you plead him again

‘nah. This is more fun. Speak now or never’ he tells you

‘don’t  tell them’ tim says pleading you with his eyes

‘3 … 2 …’ the man starts counting the gun barrell at tim’s forehead. tim takes in your face for what he thinks will be his last time. He wants to take in every detail of you even if you are so bruised and broken, to him you are still the most beautiful person. As the man reaches two he closes his eyes

‘John Lawrence!’ you scream before he can count to one.

‘perfect. Here we go. See it was easy’ the kidnapper mocks you as tim opens his eyes in defeat, as you can’t bring yourself to look at him

You list all the people taking the longest time possible to hope they will come rescue. You want to buy time, knowing that when the list is done not only the agents will be dead but also you and tim.

Yet Inevitably the list comes to an end

‘thank you very much. Betraying your country and 300 people for one single man’

You keep your head low knowing you just sentenced to death 300 agents.

The man points the gun towards you ‘kill me but spare him please’ you say having given up on your fate but hoping you will still be able to save tim

Tim flinches in his seat at your plead.  ‘she told you what you wanted let us go now’ tim says

‘and let you stop our operation? No way’

‘by the time they find us you will already have done it’ tim tries to make him reason

‘you know what? You are right. I will not kill you’ the man says as he turns

He shoots you in the stomach as tim screams your name and you can’t even cling to your stomach as your hands are tied ‘I will let you die of blood loss so that you can stare at his corpse knowing it is your fault’

He then points the gun to tim’s head

‘no! please!’ you shout

‘its okay sweatheart. I love-‘ tim says looking at you

As you hear the gun shot you close your eyes screaming but then you hear tim’s voice calling your name. you open your eyes as you see the SWAT entering the house and killing the two intruders before you pass out

-.-.-

Tim wakes up in a hospital bed, Lucy goes next to him in a second

‘tim! How are you?’ she asks him

‘y/n. where is y/n’ he asks frenetic looking around ‘tim…’ lucy tries

‘where is my wife!’ he shouts at his rookie. ‘next room but tim-‘ she tries, he doesn’t care he gets of the hospital bed falling down as he realizes that is leg is still broken after all

‘tim- you shouldn’t get up-‘ lucy tries to make him reason as she goes to help him

‘help me or leave!’ he says his eyes look like pure fire she nods as she helps him up and to walk next room where you are staying

Angela, who was sitting next to you, stands up seeing him ‘tim-‘

Tim freezes when he sees you. You are in a bed, more casts on your limbs that he can count. Your face is still swollen even if now is clear from the blood, tubes come and go out of you, one is even in your mouth.

‘y/n’ he sighs. Lucy and angela help him to the chair next to your bed. He sits down and takes your only non-casted hand in his

‘how is she?’ he asks them looking at your broken form, eyes lucid

Angela and lucy exchange a look before Angela speaks ‘the doctor said the situation was critical. Both her legs, her arms and one hand are broken. She had a concussion from the beating and lost a lot of blood, but the gun shot did not damage any major organ’

‘is she-‘ he is afraid to ask as the words die in his throat

‘yes she is in a coma. They are positive that she is going to wake up.’ Angela says

‘when‘ he asks as a knot forms in his throat

‘they don’t know‘ lucy replies as tim just nods never taking his eyes off you

‘the intruders?’ he asks now voice plain and cold

‘they were killed in the rescue operation. Any info they might have gotten never made it to their associates’ angela says, careful to not say or insinuate that you indeed told them something or in this case everything

‘they should have suffered more’ tim says as lucy and angela exchange a look

‘tim you should be resting. You have a broken leg and a minor concussion, and bruises and burns everywhere…’ lucy tries to make him reason

‘leave’ he only replies voice flat

 ‘tim…’ angela tries

 ‘leave!’ he shouts looking at them and they do leave. He turns again towards you worry and regret consuming him

He places your hand in both his as he kisses it before placing his forehead on it.

And for the first time in years tim bradford cries

PART 2

Tim Bradford master list in ‘Other Characters’ master list’

hey I was wondering if I could request a Wally x batsis!reader x Roy where the two are fighting over batsis and the batboys are taking sides and getting a little too invested in her love life, thanks luv!!❤️

Warnings: references to sex, cursing,

word count: 0.6k

Y/N Wayne was the crush of hundreds of thousands of people and it was obvious why. Her gorgeous brown skin managed to shimmer under the Gotham clouds, her smile that could replace the sun, and she had a heart that was pure. Her track record was not as clear. Having dated a few professional basketball players, a few cheerleaders, and even a few actors, no one really stuck around. Not like Wally and Roy, at least.

Wally had a crush on Y/N from the first time that Dick invited him over. Of course, Y/N was a year or two older than him but that did not stop him from flirting with her. Dick always hit him in the back of the head after he did but Wally thought it was well worth it. Especially, because Y/N was his first kiss, not that he told Dick that. He figured that he would grow out of his childhood crush but he never did. Sure he dated other girls but something about Y/N kept drawing him back.

Roy had a crush on Y/N since Jason broke into her apartment while they needed a place to lay low. He remembers the night like it was yesterday. Jason had slipped the both of them into a rather nice safe house, which ended up being a condo. Y/N was supposed to be at fashion week in Paris but she ended up not going. When she heard footsteps in her apartment, she threw two batarangs at Roy's head and he'd been infatuated ever since. Not to mention, she babysits Lian from time to time and he nearly melts every time he sees them together.

"I'm telling you, she's gonna end up with Roy," Jason spoke as he and Dick were playing Super Smash Bros. It had been a big debate between the two.

"Nah, Wally doesn't have as much baggage. Love the guy but not for my sister," Dick was honest. Wally seemed to be the option with the least difficulties. However, they were Waynes and if their love wasn't difficult, it wouldn't be them.

"Oh, so you'd rather our sister be with someone who regularly disappears into the speed force," Jason countered as he unlocked his special move in the game. He regularly kicked Dick's ass in this game but for some reason, Dick insisted on playing it.

"What are you guys talking about?" Y/N asked as she walked into the home theater. She couldn't find her other siblings so she was stuck with these two for now.

"You need to pick between Roy and Wally," Jason stated as he put the game on pause. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the sudden statement. No one in her family had ever demanded something of her before.

"First of all, I don't have to do shit but stay black and die. Second of all, I am trying," She whined a little.

"I mean it can't be that hard," Dick said hoping to lighten the mood.

"How's Kori? Or are you with Babs?" Y/N asked looking him in his eyes. Dick was taken aback as he put his hand on his chest.

"Damn," Jason mumbled, he was suddenly grateful that his love life was not being broadcasted.

"Low blow, man," Dick sniffled.

"I like them both," Y/N admitted. She wasn't sure which one she liked more. They both were great in their own ways. She also didn't want to be a heartbreaker.

"Which one do you like better?" Jason asked, wishing for a little clarity. He was really hoping she was leaning more toward Roy.

"Well, Wally can vibrate his entire body but Roy does this thing with his tong-," Y/N started. She knew saying this would allow her brothers to leave her alone.

"No! No! I do not need to know," Dick started screaming while covering his ears. He quickly left the theater room and did not bother to look back.

"So, what'd we learn?" Y/N asked while looking at her remaining brother.

"Not to ask about your love life." Jason made a face of disgust while Y/N just smiled.