#also this place looks like a jail cell

[gavidaily]

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavigif #gaviedit #drink every time he says bueno or la verdad #the hand gesture asdfghj he's so #he's my number one boy #one of the first tweets i saw about him was how his face is 80% eyes and yes it is #also this place looks like a jail cell #hey who set up this? the camera and the light? i just wanna talk #i got my barça jersey <3 the home kit 22/23 oh she's beautiful <3 #long time no see huh #it'll change next week!!!! #cant wait i miss him sm <3 #also: this isn't what he says 100% but it's adapted

[greatunironic]

eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.

so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.

he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.

because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.

eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.

(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)

when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they��re getting desperate, eh?”

then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?

he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.

“you’re alive,” she says.

eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”

“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”

he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.

“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.

“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—

“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.

“maybe not.”

“don’t lie.”

“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”

“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”

“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”

“speaking from experience?”

“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”

“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“

“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”

“at the frozen four.”

“yeah, sure, that too.”

“what?”

“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”

“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”

“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.

eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”

“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”

“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.

the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”

“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”

steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“

“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“

“so,” says steve.

“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.

“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”

“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”

“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”

“coach! go time!”

“yeah?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“COACH!”

he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”

“pick me up in twenty?”

“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.

someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”

with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.

“damn,” he says quietly.

“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.

“how long have you been there?” he asks.

she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”

“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”

“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”

a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #rockstar au #hockey au #two great tastes that taste great together tbh #cross posted on twitter #might clean this up later + pop it on ao3

[joshsbimbo]

stealing is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off

pairings: security guard! mike schmidt x shoplifter! reader

warnings: shoplifting, getting caught stealing, being in a cell, oral (m! receiving), forced stripping, mockery.

a/n: i thought mall jail was real when i was younger but it ISNT i hope this makes sense to y’all 💋

♡ the mall is filled with clothes, makeup, food, and toys. all of your favorite things in one place! it also had fun activities like massage chairs, smelling candles, and stealing!!

♡ you scanned the store, licking a cherry flavored dum dum, positioning your body so only you could see what you were doing. you snuck in a pair of earrings into your purse and a bracelet.

♡ you continued to the clothing racks, picking out multiple tops and hiding one within one. the sweet lady handed you a door sign with the number 3, not knowing you actually had 6. you entered the changing room and took off your baggy hoodie. taking off the tags before layering the tops on yourself, then putting your hoodie back on.

♡ you made sure to buy a necklace, sucking the candy as you happily made your way to the exit. it was a nice haul for one store, you were excited to go to another store before the alarm went off.

♡ “excuse me, ma’am. i’m going to have to check your receipt.” the security guard said. his tired eyes looking down at you, flickering his eyes to your purse and back to you. he held his hand out, furrowing his eyebrows.

♡ you exit the lollipop out of your mouth with a pop, “mhm, of course!” you place the receipt on his calloused, big hands as you make eye contact with him, smiling sweetly.

♡ he checked the receipt and opened your shopping bag with his other hand. his hand exited before digging into your purse abruptly, “what a shame that you forgot to close your purse.”

♡ you look at his name tag before looking up at him with pleading eyes, “mike, you can let this slide, right?”

♡ “depends, is this your first time?”

♡ “mhm, yes it is, sir..” you bit your lip.

♡ “what a fucking liar.” he gripped your arm tightly, leading you to mall’s cells.

♡ you wrapped your hands around his arm, trying to pull him off. “c’mon, please, mike?” batting your eyelashes as you look up at him, but he ignored you.

♡ the room was small with one cell, a telephone, and a desk. he kept his grip tight, throwing you into a cell. he locked it, taking the chair out from under the desk, facing it so he can watch you.

♡ “you really think these people are this stupid, huh?” he ran his hands through his brown curls, a frustrated sigh leaving his pretty lips.

♡ you were on the ground, crawled up in the corner. your ass ached from the throw, you knew it was going to bruise. you teared up as your lip quivered, “n-no..”

♡ “of course you do! shielding your hands from the cameras?” he takes out his walkie talkie. “you see this? every time they see you, the dumb slut, they tell us to keep a close eye on her.”

♡ “d-dumb slut..?” you questioned, tears rolling down your cheek.

♡ “look at the way you dress, how you act, the way you look-“ he paused, scanning your body. “that hoodie is new though.”

♡ he was right. the hoodie was new, something you would never be caught dead wearing.

♡ “take it off.”

♡ “wh- no!” you blurted out between sobs.

♡ “what’s wrong? not wearing a bra? that’s not a problem because everyone’s seen your tits, dumb slut.” he hissed through his teeth.

♡ “fuck yo-“

♡ “i’ll call the cops. is that what you want, hm?”

♡ “n-no! fine. i’ll do it!” you took off the hoodie, your mascara running down your cheeks as you looked at him.

♡ “was wondering where you put those tops..” he grins. “sensitive, slutty, and somewhat smart?” he chuckles, man spreading, his bulge showing through his slacks.

♡ even through your sobs, your face scrunches up in disgust. eyeing his huge- you mean, gross bulge.

♡ he smirks, “wanna help me? it’s the least you could, making me work extra hard just so you could look slutty..”

♡ “fuck no.” you say, covering yourself with your hoodie.

♡ he glides his hand on the telephone, “a simple 911 call..” he jokingly presses the phone against his ear, twirling the wire, mocking you by batting his eyelashes, “e-excuse me, sir!” he let out a breathy laugh, remembering your pleas. “this young lady h-has been… been stealing!” he forces the stuttering, pouting, and out right mocking you.

♡ “just let me go! please!”

♡ god, hearing you beg made his cock harder. he pressed on one of the buttons, “nine.”

♡ “stop!” you screamed, hurriedly taking off two of the tops, leaving you in a white tank top with no bra.

♡ “that’s the slut i know..” he scanned your body, your nipples hardened from the cold air, the perky buds in view, your tight shorts, making your thighs look extra plump, and the straps of your thong showing. the combination of your body, ruined makeup, red tongue from your treat made him need to palm his bulge through his pants.

♡ you shuddered at the sight, no no no… you felt your wetness leaking from your lips, onto your underwear. “t-this is illegal.. keeping me here t-to take advantage of me..” you warned him, but you fucking loved it.

♡ “strip searches are legal.” he spat out. “now strip.”

♡ you pouted as you unbuttoned your shorts.

♡ “turn around.” he ordered

♡ you turn around, bending down as you slid off your shorts. you could hear him groan at the sight of you, your pussy barely hidden from how soaked your thong was. you smile to yourself, pulling down your thong slowly. a string connecting your cunt to the fabric, the string getting longer the further you pull them down.

♡ when you meet his gaze again, his cock is out. twitching as his pre cum leaked down his beautiful pink tip to his unshaven base. “hmm, now your top.” he groans.

♡ you noticed the more you resisted, the more his cock ached. “please don’t make me.” you whimpered out as you tilted your head to the side, a chill running up your spine as you watched his cock leak even more.

♡ he pressed another button, “one.”

♡ you forced more tears down your cheek as you pulled off your top, your clothes lying beside you. he slid the keys to you, grinning as he watched you snatch it from the ground. you reach out from the bars and unlocked your cell, dropping on your knees in front of him.

♡ he runs his hand through your hair, gripping it as you lick from the base to the tip of his cock. he looks down at you, smirking, as you look up at him with your messy eyeliner and mascara running down. “poor baby, hadn’t had cock in hours. so desperate for a dribble of cum, hm?”

♡ “mhm..” drips oozes out of your pussy onto the tiles, you whine as you swirl your tongue around his cock. sending vibrations down his cock, swallowing the salty, sticky fluid. as you entered more of him inside, he forced the rest deep inside your throat.

♡ “your throat feels so nice, baby..” his head is pulled back, groaning at the sound of your gags, not daring to look at your messy face cause he knows he’ll cum at the sight. “bet you’re happy that you got caught, hm?”

♡ you slide him off your mouth with a pop for a moment, stroking him as you talk, “yes, yes… m’ so happy..” you immediately continue to deepthroat his cock, feeling it twitch as you hallow your cheeks.

♡ “i’ll call the cops if you don’t swallow every fucking drop.” he orders before cumming down your throat. his load was too big, dripping down his cock and your chin. “all. of. it.” he looks down at your fucked up face.

♡ “yes, sir..” swiping your finger to slide the excess cum into your mouth. looking into his hooded eyes with a sultry look before entering one of his sacks his mouth.

♡ despite just cumming in your mouth, his cock still hard. watching you as you suck his most sensitive place, his cock twitching, “of course you’re fucking experienced.”

♡ you giggle, “i would’ve drank it all regardless, mikey..”

♡ he grins, “you can keep your shit. next time i won’t be so nice, though.”

♡ “thank you, sir. :3”

thank u for reading and yes you said :3 out loud :33333

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh futturman #josh hutcherson #josh futturman x reader #josh futterman x reader smut #lamb writes

[robertreich]

How Trump is Following Hitler's Playbook

You’ve heard Trump’s promise:

TRUMP: I’m going to be a dictator for one day.

History shows there are no “one-day” dictatorships. When democracies fall, they typically fall completely.

In a previous video, I laid out the defining traits of fascism and how MAGA Republicans embody them. But how could Trump — or someone like him — actually turn America into a fascist state? Here’s how in five steps.

Step 1: Use threats of violence to gain power

Hitler and Mussolini relied on their vigilante militias to intimidate voters and local officials. We watched Trump try to do the same in 2020.

TRUMP: Proud Boys, stand back and stand by.

Republican election officials testified to the threats they faced when they refused Trump’s demands to falsify the election results.

RAFFENSPERGER: My email, my cell phone was doxxed.

RUSTY BOWERS: They have had video panel trucks with videos of me proclaiming me to be a pedophile.

GABRIEL STERLING: A 20-something tech in Gwinnett County today has death threats and a noose put out saying he should be hung for treason.

If the next election is close, threats to voters and election officials could be enough to sabotage it.

Step 2: Consolidate power

After taking office, a would-be fascist must turn every arm of government into a tool of the party. One of Hitler’s first steps was to take over the civil service, purging it of non-Nazis.

In October of 2020, Trump issued his own executive order that would have enabled him to fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA loyalists. He never got to act on it, but he’s now promising to apply it to the entire civil service.

That’s become the centerpiece of something called Project 2025, a presidential agenda assembled by MAGA Republicans, that would, as the AP put it, “dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision.”

Step 3: Establish a police state

Hitler used the imaginary threat of “the poison of foreign races” to justify taking control of the military and police, placing both under his top general, and granting law-enforcement powers to his civilian militias.

Now Trump is using the same language to claim he needs similar powers to deal with immigrants.

Trump plans to deploy troops within the U.S. to conduct immigration raids and round up what he estimates to be 18 million people who would be placed in mass-detention camps while their fate is decided.

And even though crime is actually down across the nation, Trump is citing an imaginary crime wave to justify sending troops into blue cities and states against the will of governors and mayors.

Trump insiders say he plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to have the military crush civilian protests. We saw a glimpse of that in 2020, when Trump deployed the National Guard against peaceful protesters outside the White House.

And with promises to pardon January 6 criminals and stop prosecutions of right-wing domestic terrorists, Trump would empower groups like the Proud Boys to act as MAGA enforcers.

Step 4: Jail the opposition

In classic dictatorial fashion, Trump is now openly threatening to prosecute his opponents.

TRUMP: if I happen to be president and I see somebody who’s doing well and beating me very badly, I say, ‘Go down and indict them.’ They’d be out of business.

And he’s looking to remake the Justice Department into a tool for his personal vendettas.

TRUMP: As we completely overhaul the federal Department of Justice and FBI, we will also launch sweeping civil rights investigations into Marxist local district attorneys.

In the model of Hitler and Mussolini, Trump describes his opponents as subhuman.

TRUMP: …the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country…

Step 5: Undermine the free press

As Hitler well understood, a fascist needs to control the flow of information. Trump has been attacking the press for years.

And he’s threatening to punish news outlets whose coverage he dislikes.

He has helped to reduce trust in the media to such a historic low that his supporters now view him as their most trusted source of information.

Within a democracy, we may often have leaders we don’t like. But we have the power to change them — at the ballot box and through public pressure. Once fascism takes hold, those freedoms are gone and can’t easily be won back.

We must recognize the threat of fascism when it appears, and do everything in our power to stop it.

#youtube #videos #fascism #Donald Trump #election #video #politics

[urwifebabes]

Hi, this is my first time requesting, and I had an idea. Could you do a reader x dogday x catnap where the reader used to live with catnap and dogday when they were human, but when they mysteriously disappeared, they escaped from play co but came back years later to find out what happened to them. Please and thank you also sorry if this is a lot.

I hope this satisfies you, love.

“You’re back..?”

Relationship(s): catnap x player!reader x Dogday 🔞

Warning(s): angst, fluff, smut (in that order.)

your fingers grazed the cement, it had dried blood stains on it , here and there. you see the toys took in consideration how you taught them how to clean up thoroughly. all the blood from “The Hour Of Joy” was almost all cleaned up. it was a miracle you decided to escape before that day but you doubt that Catnap and Dogday would have let you die.

you finally came to the playcare, where you had been assigned to work your first day. you smiled softly, remembering the events of that day. you had been assigned to be either catnaps helper or Dogdays. but you being you, you asked for them both and the higher ups didn’t see why not? You’d help them with the kids, you’d help them with cooking, you’d help bathe them, and anything else they wanted you to do. Dogday warmed up to you from the moment you arrived. it took catnap atleast 9 months to get used to you and even begin to talk to you. when he’d be taped by the higher ups, you usually had to be in the room for him to even say anything else besides about “his savior, the prototype.” experiment 1006, you believe.

you had made it to this jail like place. it looked disgusting. the jail cells bars were rusty and had dried blood. Some cell doors on the ground. you came across one cell and your heart stopped. Dogday. Dogday was.. alive? and where was his legs? your body reacted before you could think and you unlocked him from his shackles. you hurriedly carried him away while the critters were just now noticing he was gone when one came for a quick “snack”. you made your way through the tunnels and made your way to the old operation room. Dogday had been out cold as you laid him down on the desk and began to work.

Dogday opened his eyes, finding his spare legs attached to his body. he looked around, his head still abit woozy. he sat up and sighed, happily. his eyes locked on you, taking off your bloodied gloves. if he wasn’t so damn happy right now, he’d cry. he got up and hugged you, wrapping his hands around your waist, his tail wagging. “Angel!”

Dogday had slowly but surely cried into your chest as you gently pet him. he hadn’t seen you since a couple days before “The Hour Of Joy.” He thought you had.. no he wouldn’t think it again. he looked up at you with tears and his nose running. he sniffed and sat up “you’re back?.. this isn’t a bad dream, is it?” You shook your head as Dogday smiled at you. he kissed you sweetly before pulling you into a monster sized hug. “I missed you, Angel.”

you two had begun to walk around the complex. you had a moment of weakness and whispered to Dogday, “where’s catnap? is he safe?” Dogday only looked at you before he took a hardened breath. “that.. thing is not catnap.” You didn’t quite understand but you figured it was a hard subject and didn’t ask anymore. you wish you did though, when you saw him.

“D—Dogday, who is that?” you asked as you had begun to back away. Dogday reacted before he said anything and he grabbed you, running as fast as he could with his new found legs. He had you over his shoulder as you watched catnap chase after you two. he looked sick, evil, and .. shocked? you guys had ended up in a dead end and he had you both cornered.

Catnap had circled around you both for about 8 minutes, you’d say before he came closer to you. Dogday had protectively pulled you behind him. Catnap looks at him and with one quick swipe , he threw Dogday into the wall. leaving you open prey. you waited for impact, only to find the cat staring at you. you could swear his eyes started to soften and his eyes began to drip tears. you knew he missed you , you left and escapes without the two knowing and then “The Hour Of Joy” happened. you came closer, cautiously. you put your hands on his face and gently rubbed back and forth (he was leaning down). he let out soft purrs, seemingly relaxing for the first time since that day.

Catnap had gone back to his “bigger body” form much like Dogday. He had apologized to Dogday as you had forced him to. Dogday said it would take time but they would get there, eventually. you all sat and conversated, mainly you telling about your life. before long, you were against the wall. Catnap kissing your lips, his tongue slimy and down your throat as Dogday finger fucked you open. he knew they were both too big for you, but you wanted to try so.. no harm there, right?

Dogday held your legs open as catnap thrusted into your tight heat brutally. feeling how your hot velvety walls clinged at his lengthy cock when he tried to pull out. “good fuckin’ girl.. so wet f’me.” Catnaps words slurred as he pushed abit more inside. he looked down at you, seeing your face contorted in both pleasure and some pain. he waited for a moment more before he picked up his brutal assault on your pretty pussy. Dogday whispered sweet words to you as he brushed the tears off your face. soon enough, catnap came inside you, thrusting one more time to push his cum deeper. you let out a pleasured whimper as your head fell back. Dogday smiles as he kisses your lips, waiting for catnap to pull out completely.

Dogday kissed the inner parts of your thighs. he then reached your heat and took in the sight. your clit swollen, pussy convulsing around nothing, and the pink look it had. Dogday chuckled as he placed butterfly kisses to your clit. catnap held you down as Dogday teased you. he eventually wrapped his own hands around your thighs. his tongue came out hot, heavy, and moist. you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat. he fucked his tongue into you, ruthlessly. he ate you liked he’d been starved for years and he couldn’t live without the taste. he was humping his cock against the dead plush pathetically, as you could see the pre-cum gushing out his discolored tip. catnap watched the scene unfold, stroking his own cock as he watched.

soon enough, Dogday was fucking into you like a mad dog. his balls heavy with unshed cum that he just wanted to dump into you. make sure you have his pups, not any kittens. Dogday growled as he bit the side of your neck, not enough to hurt, but to leave a mark as he thrusted a few more times pumping his love into you. catnap had been stroking himself to the pace Dogday had set and he had came on your face and hair as soon as Dogday did. you? well, you had came a total of 4 times and this was just their seconds. you sighed as you watched them switch positions again, catnap opening your leg to show your pretty glistening hole.

A/N: hi! Sorry this took so long. I hope this was good! if you wanna be tagged when I post, just let me know! also for the others that requested, I promise I’m working on it.

TAGS: @2faced-fairy

#dogday x reader #reader x character #reader insert #smiling critters x reader #reader x crush #dogday x reader x catnap #x reader #smiling critters #smiling friends #catnap #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #smut #smooches #fluff

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

hello !! if it’s not too much of a bother can you write another piece featuring Lion 🫶 maybe another angsty piece, maybe a lil lion + farah combo or something else like lion and gaz getting separated from the 141 during a mission and having to fight their way back to the extraction point (?). totally up to you !!! also thank u for keeping us well fed 🙇‍♀️

Lions and Ibexes

PAIRING: John Price x Wife!Reader 'Codename Lion'

SYNOPSIS: Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.

WORDCOUNT: 4.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, death, canon typical violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, banter, no connection to 'I'll Take the Night Shift' except codenames, protective!Price, suggestive jokes, etc.

A/N: I wanna give Farah a big smooch on her forehead.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“So this is the woman that the Captain won’t keep quiet about,” you smirk and place your hand into Farah Karim’s, eyes shimmering as you both share a tight grip. 

“Commander,” greeting the black-haired woman, your light gear hangs off of you easily and efficiently; clean and well-taken care of. 

“Lion,” she nods, smirking back. “A pleasure.”

“Please,” you huff a laugh, “I wish it could be.” Expressions dim as you instantly get to work, the hot sun and dry air sticking to your flesh like a second skin of humidity. Releasing Farah’s hand you sigh and look around the old town, skimming over the forms of other Urzikstan Liberation Force soldiers. 

Farah does the same, breathing lowly. 

“On that, I believe you’d be right.” Brown eyes flick to yours, looking you over before the woman nods. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

“Lead the way,” your feet push you onward, following behind the Commander as your wedding band clinks against your chest. Held on that long chain, a hand comes up to brush it carefully, letting the man who wears the mirrored piece bring you comfort even from so far away. 

John was set to ship out in two days—there were some other important operations that had taken precedence. While you could have stayed behind with him, as you had wanted to do, a plea from one of the far-distant operators of One-Four-One had caught your ear. The name Farah Karim was known. 

If you didn’t offer assistance, you’d never feel right with yourself. One call to Laswell and it was all set up. 

“I’ll be there in two days,” John had muttered into your scalp as you both lay in bed, tight to one another; lashes fluttering. “Wait for me, yeah? No running off.” 

Your smirk had made him sigh a chuckle. “No stunts of heroics, my Love? Please, do you know who you’re speaking to?”

“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know?”

“Well,” the words are uttered into his neck and John pulls you tighter into him. “I think that’s just about the most romantic thing to happen to someone.” 

Smiling to yourself, you bring the ring to your lips and kiss it lightly before letting it drop. In your head, John is still in your shared flat in London, and you’ll be back by the hour. If only. 

“You contacted Laswell and said you had encountered more of Barkov's remaining cells?” Your voice carries easy authority; ingrained confidence. 

Farah looks back and nods firmly. 

“They’ve taken over a town in the mountains, my forces can’t break the line.” She sighs aggressively and you stare with a sliding frown. “Even dead, Barkov cannot leave my people alone.”

In the back of your throat, you hum, “Well, parasites tend to be resilient.” Farah leads you into a home with maps on the tables and low talking of strategies from others. They pause when you enter and you nod politely. Many here knew your husband as the Commander did—all those years back when he was still only a Lieutenant and had broken Farah and her brother Hadir out from the Russian’s jail; labeled as prisoners of war. 

John had told you about it during one of the many late nights in your joint offices. Eyes tired and his hands playing with your hair.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask genially, standing near the table and placing your hands down on it—standard M4A1 resting over your chest and your secondary weapon strapped to your thigh. Unlike most, you’d opted for lighter gear to allow you to move faster. 

Fewer packs sit on your vest, and the gleam of the knife on your shoulder was a testament to your preference to close, silent, encounters. Though you liked to use your silver tongue to get out of situations, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work in this instance. 

“Captain Price told me you’re one of the best undercover agents he’s seen.” You perk at this, looking over with raised brows.

“Hell,” your chuckle echoes, “when you said he couldn’t keep quiet I thought you were exaggerating.” 

Farah smiles cheekily at you before pointing to the map of a mountain town surrounded by red Xs.

“My soldiers have marked off choke points all around the area. They’re the only pathways to the town, but heavily guarded.” She glances around the room and you hear her sigh heavily. “I wouldn’t have asked for assistance unless I knew I needed it. I’d prefer to leave foreign fighters out of this conflict, unlike my enemy.” 

“I understand,” your head shakes. “It’s your home—I’ll go where you need me to. John should be here in two days to assist.”

Farah’s face flashes with surprise, her full brows rising on her head. “Price is coming?”

You shrug and laugh, “he’s stubborn.” 

The woman chuffs before moving to fold her arms over her chest. “I think perhaps he’s more of a smitten husband, hm?” At the sheepish expression on your face and dipping eyes, Farah barks a laugh.

The band around your neck clinks into the stock of your gun as you stand to your full height. 

“Is it that obvious,” you tease, tilting your head to her. You knew it was.

“I believe the simple action of asking is proof enough, Lion.” The commander looks at her work on the table, smiling easily but focusing still on her plan of attack. “But, regardless, I give my thanks for flying out on such short notice.”

“We help our own.” Resting your hands on the body of your weapon, you smile fondly. “Now, who do I need to kill?” 

—

As it turns out, killing was the very baseline of what you needed to do. 

Shuffling into the dark armor of the dead Russian soldier at your feet, you grunt at the slick spread of blood on the ground as you strap arm braces to your limbs. 

“Heavy as all hell,” you grumble under your breath, picking up the large helmet and shoving it over your head with a puff of air. 

Farah was going to lead a distraction on the far side of the western choke point while you slipped into the ranks, placing packs of C4 in some of the large-stocked weapons buildings. Easy enough for you, you admitted. You’d done things like this a million times over. 

When all was said and done, slipping your knife into the new belt at your waist, you gaze down at the dead man with a huff of air; seeing the blood still pooling from the very obvious signs of a slit up the left armpit. You blink and stuff your wedding band down your shirt. 

“Bad day, buddy,” grabbing his legs, you bare your heels and drag the body behind a large outcropping of rocks—long streaks of crimson left behind. “I’d hate to be you right now.” 

Grunting, you drop the limp flesh with a thump like a paper-towel roll meeting the counter. 

Shuffling back into the open, your feet make tracks to get you closer toward your targets. You hike the small pouch Farah gave you farther up your back without a word more. 

John had always said you were quick-witted, but when he got here he’d lose that hat of his in disbelief. The truth was that you had forgotten what little of the Russian language you’d initially known, and the situation you found yourself in now was frankly not ideal.

C’mon Lion, you think to yourself, just pick up social cues and you’ll be good. 

Oh, your husband was going to lose his shit.

—

“Come again?” The Captain barks. “What do you fuckin’ mean she’s in the base?!”

“I just explained it,” Farah levels, raising a brow. Blue eyes narrow with a growl until the Commander's lips flicker in a smirk. “We just had word three minutes ago. She’s fine, Captain.” Fingers find John’s nose bridge, digging deep into the flesh in large exasperation and worry.

He had caught a C17 and came here a day early after he’d gotten a bad feeling—internal wife radar going off as it usually did when you placed yourself in danger without him. Which was more often than not.  

I told her not to be impulsive. 

John sighs long and low, shaking his head. “Farah…you sent her in alone?” 

“She is quite capable, Price.”

“I fucking…” He stops himself and puts his hands on the table in the center of the building. Men and women were snickering from the corners, sending amused glances. “I know.”

Farah sends a glance to her soldiers and they turn away to cover their smiling mouths. Enjoyment was in her tone as she grabs the walkie-talkie from the table top and clips it to her vest. 

“There were more men than we anticipated—she had to be more careful when placing the charges. Captain,” John glares up at her when his eyes leave the maps. The Commander teases, “She is fine.”

As if on cue, the radio fizzles with your voice. Farah looks down with surprise and the Brit's eyes snap to it immediately; body tense. 

There’s a moment of garbled static where the Captain feels his heart beating out of his chest. The panic that had snapped through him when you hadn’t come out to greet him when he’d landed was primal; genuine fear stuck in his bones like spiky grass. The bond the two of you had was closer than anything on this plane of existence. It was rare to not see one without the other.

Your voice cuts through and John’s shoulders sag under a non-existent weight.

“You should tell your men to move unless they want to be scorched, Farah!” The woman in the room smiles ferally and raises a smug brow as she looks at John. 

“Copy, Lion. You have my thanks.” 

“I didn’t know you could improvise Russian—it’s like the Slavic blood just entered my body!” The Brit covers his eyes with his hand and groans at the base of his throat. 

“Tell her to get her arse back here before she gets bloody shot.” John takes off his bucket hat and tosses it to the table with a gloved hand, punching his hair back from his forehead. “Giving me gray hairs,” he grunts. 

Farah laughs and says eagerly into the walkie, “Someone’s here to say hello.”

“...Oh, fuck.” Your panting breath clears and after a long glare at the device, John hears you say in a slow and awkward tone, “Hello, my Love!”

Farah tilts the radio closer to him and looks highly pleased. 

“Get back here. Now.” John grunts out, fingers digging into his arms as he crosses them. “I told you to wait for me.”

You laugh nervously, deflecting, “...did you, Dear? I guess I misheard you.” The Brit’s jaw clenches but Farah can speak before he can.

“Lion, are all the charges set, then?” You seem thankful for the distraction, sighing over the line.

“All good over here! I just need the O.K from your men and then it’s about to get a whole lot brighter.” 

“I’ll relay the news—get away, as far as you can.”

“Already on it,” your breathy chuckle exits and you pause before saying. “See you soon, Love!” 

Tiny blue eyes bug, “Wait–!” The line clicks off and Farah is already tapping into the frequency for her soldiers, turning slightly away to converse in quick Arabic. 

—

Evening rolls around and you jog back into the Liberation Force’s base, greeting the guards stationed with a breathless sigh; utterly sweaty but happy you’d gotten half a ride back from some locals. You’re back in your original gear, sear marks on your cheeks and hair slightly burned, but nonetheless unharmed. 

Everyone welcomes you back with handshakes and pats on your shoulders—brushes to your arm as people pass. You guide yourself back to the main building with chuckles and deep smiles of achievement. 

“Someone’s happy.” John’s voice freezes you halfway into the home and you cringe like a leaf. After a moment your eyebrows slide up with a cheeky smile.

“John,” you draw out his name and turn, seeing him leaning against the house with his arms crossed and legs stiff. He looks unimpressed in all of his handsome glory. “Well, don’t you look nice—did you trim your beard before coming out?” 

Walking slowly towards him, you loop your hands around his waist and press kisses into his neck sweetly. The man sighs long and you feel his large palms rest on your hips heavily. You blink innocently into his orbs. 

“Your silver tongue won’t work on me, Love.” The glint in his expression eggs you on as his nose tints down to touch yours. You smile brightly, seeing the wrinkles on his forehead dim as he melts into you easily. 

Whispering, you utter to the air, “I’d say you like my tongue, you brute. Tell me often enough.” Not a beat is missed, but you feel his cheeks go slightly red.

“Keep it on a leash and maybe I’d like it more, yeah?” You snort loudly, head dipping only to feel his lips press into your scalp; his smile is teasing as his beard drags against you. 

John breathes you in along with the scent of sand. One of his hands travels up to lock into the back of your neck, playing with the chain of your necklace. The one that mirrors his own down to the very dents and scratches. 

“You alright?” The words are a murmur into your flesh. You let him play with your wedding band as your smile softens to the same sensation of warm pelts on a wooden floor. 

There was no use telling you to stop your crusades, the Brit knew that. You did what you wanted and damn the consequences; John was stuck with damage control but knew you had the skills and know-how to break all odds. You still held that same fire that the woman he married wore like a crown of fangs without fail.  

“Always,” you reassure him, hugging his waist tighter and staring into his eyes.

The both of you lapse into a delicate hold. John’s arms cage you in and you’d have it no other way as fingers drag over warm flesh, never mind the brutal dig of gear or the stain of blood. Neither could keep you away from the other. 

“When will you stop making my heart rip out of my chest, Sweetheart?” John asks, smirking down at you. “Trying to give me a heart attack before forty, eh?”

“Oh, please,” you whisper against his lips, eyes alight with mischief as he watches you closely—pulse pounding against yours. He could never be angry at you. “We both know that if you have one, I’ll be having one too. We’ll end up being brain-dead at the same damn time, no doubt.” 

He laughs against you lowly, having to pull back to shake his head at your bland confession. “You’re fuckin’ mental, Love.” He breathes in soft puffs of breath. You gaze up at him, laced with affection and care, as he rests his forehead on yours. “Ah, but that’s alright, isn’t it? We’re all a bit crazy.” 

“You might be a little bit higher on the metaphorical scale,” you tease, face serious but eyes betraying you. They always would when it came to John; the only person to break through that ‘cunning nuisance’ that everyone always mentioned in your file. 

“Really, now?” He blinks, smirking and rubbing at your hip absentmindedly and leaning closer—pushing your neck to the side. 

“Just a bit,” you huff, not even realizing. 

Before you can utter another word, firm lips capture you like a beast in iron bars, bulky forearms stuck at the curve of your spine. You chirp into John’s mouth in surprise but melt into him as his large purr resonates into your bloodstream. Singing, you bring your hands to his cheeks, digging through those bristles to feel the burn on your hands. 

Humming, your husband nuzzles his nose into your cheek like a dog would, letting him take in your scent as you feel your legs go weak. You enjoy the worship he gives you; always would. Your body is tightly held against his own and you gladly would have shown him how much you enjoyed him being here if only for the small fact you needed to talk to Farah. 

With one last pass of his reddened lips, you slip back and kiss his bristly cheek with a chuckle. 

“Later.” 

He groans into you. “Tease.” 

“I didn’t even do anything!” You laugh loudly, moving out of his hold to walk into the house as he follows at your heels. John’s hands go to the top of his vest collar to rest. 

He leans down and whispers, “Don’t need to, Love.” 

Your face burns for him and only him as he grumbles out chuckles at your blown pupils. Huffing, you turn and roll your eyes, trying to dispel your flaming blood. Farah waits for you and with a happy glance up she comes from around the table and claps you on both shoulders. You grunt in surprise but grip her elbows with a laugh. 

“Barkov’s remaining cell was wiped out—my soldiers are hunting down the remnants as we speak.” She squeezes your gear and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lion, for coming out when you did. The Captain was not wrong in his assessment.” 

You turn your head to the side and glance back at John. “Hear that my Love, I’ve heard you talk about me. That’s so precious.” 

His face goes red under his beard, and his feet shuffle as you and Farah share a joking glance. John releases under-the-breath grumbles before the Commander addresses him. The woman releases you but speaks past your person.

“Some of my younger soldiers wanted you to mentor them with the use of their weapons, do you plan on staying the night?” You and John share a look, a seeming telepathic communication going on. 

He nods at you and you smile. “Only tonight, we ship out at first light. I’ll do what I’m able.”

“Then you also have my thanks. They’ll learn much, I’m sure. Lion,” John comes and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving. You watch him go for a moment before rubbing at your dirty neck while you listen to Farah. “Come with me, there’s fresh water on the roof.” 

“Oh,” you perk, suddenly realizing the fatigue in your bones and the dryness of your throat. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

As you both ascend the stairs to the roof, there’s a still silence that falls, a calm nothingness. When you finally stand on the flat roof, you look over the vast land as Farah hands you a chilled water bottle from a mini-fridge. You take it with a small nod in thanks. 

“Nice view,” you motion with the bottle before taking a long sip—downing half of it in one go. 

Farah smiles and hums. “Urzikatan is a beautiful place,” you listen and wipe at your mouth; seeing people walk the streets below as the red sun grows even lower. In the wind, your nose twitches to sand and dust, with some hint of floral notes and arid cleanliness. Farah’s face seeps with a low sadness when she looks out to the land and you pause your drinking. Brows pulling in, you watch her. 

“Farah?” You ask, carefully. It’s a moment before she responds.

“I…” She crosses her arms and sets her feet. “I wonder if this place will ever see its freedom. We’ve been fighting for so long already. My family has known war more than anything else.” Brown eyes drift to you from the side of her eye. 

There’s a tightness in your chest. You can’t imagine what Farah feels right now, what she has felt. Years of this…and still her home is under foreign subjugation. A frown grows on your face and you put the half-full bottle to the small wooden table near the roof’s corner. 

“You’ll get your sovereignty, Farah.” You try your best to speak your mind to the woman but remain truthful to your belief. Farah stares out as you sigh lowly. “Maybe not now—maybe not in this generation—but someday the sun is going to set on a free Urzikatan. You’re plenty strong enough to assure that and you’ve done a proper job so far. The frames are already set.” 

The Commander hums and gazes at her soldiers below as they mull about, laughing with each other and enjoying the company of their fellow countrymen.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” Farah asks you, and you study her genuine interest in her own thoughts. “Who we would be if nothing ever happened to us.” 

You stare for a moment, skull tilting down to gaze at the top of the roof. It’s not an easy question to answer. 

“Sometimes,” your lips admit. Farch eagerly pivots to your form like you hold the greatest answer imaginable. She’s been through so much—losing her family, and her home. Humming, your eyes shift to the setting sun; blinking at it. Against all of this, your lips flinch up into a smile. “But not often.” 

Farah’s eager gaze turns confused, her brows furrowing deeply with a scrunched face. 

“Because right here, right now,” John walks down the street below, and your eyes fall to him as easily as a leaf dances to the ground. The expression on your face eases. “It couldn’t have happened if there were never bad days.” Your husband looks up, and you see him pause among the ranks of other fighters. You chuckle softly, head tilting to the side. 

John stares at you as if you’re the only person to exist, moving one hand from his vest to jerk two fingers in a subtle greeting. Farsh watches the interaction closely, tension loosening from her body. Your head nods slowly to your husband and you say to the woman, absent-minded, “I’m right where I need to be…And the sun has never looked brighter.”

Farah huffs a laugh, eyes running back and forth between the two of you. 

“He loves you,” she says, “deeply.” 

“God,” your laugh echoes, “I sure hope so.” The both of you laugh. 

It felt easy to speak to the Commander, truthfully. Being surrounded by four men all of the time can get catty even with such a strong bond as you had with One-Four-One. 

You dare to share more.

"In my mind, John and I are still in Hertfordshire for our wedding,” The words come out of you slowly, unwrapping emotions one layer at a time as if swaddled in a dark veil of internal nostalgia. You watch John as he walks along, oddly sad but filled with something that makes you want to take him up into your arms with a wet laugh. “Sitting back on the grassy hills outside of town in my gown and him in his tux. The wind is cold…but neither of us can find it in ourselves to shiver. The sun's setting on our heads and making everything glow gold. His fingers are running through my hair…” You pause and hear Farah’s soft breath in the air, but you don’t look at her. Your eyes stay stuck on one person only. “When I die,” your words continue, “I can't ask for anything more than just a glimpse of that again. Just a flicker of that hill. Of those blue eyes looking into mine. I don't think it would be all that bad if I could live in that moment for senseless eternity. If I could live in it for only one second." 

John looks back at you from over his shoulder, your form shrouded in the setting sun as he slowly walks away from you. You gaze with melted eyes, the ring around your neck shining all the brighter. 

“I’m right where I need to be,” finishing, you turn your glossy eyes to Farah, who stares with a wide pull to her lids. “And you need to believe that even if you never get to see that freedom—that hill—you’ll make sure someone else can climb it just an inch farther.” 

It’s a long moment before Farah answers.

“The both of you will do this until one of you dies, hm?” You blink before you shrug. 

“Not one.” Your tone is easy, and John’s shadow turns a corner; out of sight. “I’d never let him go without me.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw22 #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 2022 #call of duty mw2 #x female reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #captain johnathan price #john price fic #captain john price #john price #captain price #cod mwii #john price x you #john price x reader #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #price mw2 #price cod #cod price #modern warfare x you #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare #cod fandom

[reasonsforhope]

"The New York City Council voted to ban most uses of solitary confinement in city jails Wednesday [December 20, 2023], passing the measure with enough votes to override a veto from Mayor Eric Adams.

The measure would ban the use of solitary confinement beyond four hours and during certain emergencies. That four hour period would be for "de-escalation" in situations where a detainee has caused someone else physical harm or risks doing so. The resolution would also require the city's jails to allow every person detained to spend at least 14 hours outside of their cells each day.

The bill, which had 38 co-sponsors, was passed 39 to 7. It will now go to the mayor, who can sign the bill or veto it within 30 days. If Mayor Adams vetoes the bill, it will get sent back to the council, which can override the veto with a vote from two-thirds of the members. The 39 votes for the bill today make up 76% of the 51-member council. At a press conference ahead of the vote today [December 20, 2023], Council speaker Adrienne Adams indicated the council would seek [a veto] override if necessary.

For his part, Mayor Adams has signaled he is indeed considering vetoing the bill...

The United Nations has said solitary confinement can amount to torture, and multiple studies suggest its use can have serious consequences on a person's physical and mental health, including an increased risk of PTSD, dying by suicide, and having high blood pressure.

One 2019 study found people who had spent time in solitary confinement in prison were more likely to die in the first year after their release than people who had not spent time in solitary confinement. They were especially likely to die from suicide, homicide and opioid overdose.

Black and Hispanic men have been found to be overrepresented among those placed in solitary confinement – as have gay, lesbian and bisexual people.

The resolution in New York comes amid scrutiny over deaths in the jail complex on Rikers Island. Last month, the federal government joined efforts to wrest control of the facility from the mayor, and give it to an outside authority.

In August 2021, 25-year-old Brandon Rodriguez died while in solitary confinement at Rikers. He had been in pre-trial detention at the jail for less than a week. His mother, Tamara Carter, says his death was ruled a suicide and that he was in a mental health crisis at the time of his confinement.

"I know for Brandon, he should have been put in the infirmary. He should have been seeing a psychiatrist. He should have been being watched," she said.

She says the passage of the bill feels like a form of justice for her.

"Brandon wasn't nothing. He was my son. He was an uncle. A brother. A grandson. And he's very, very missed," she told NPR. "I couldn't save my son. But if I joined this fight, maybe I could save somebody else's son." ...

New York City is not the first U.S. city to limit the use of solitary confinement in its jails, though it is the largest. In 2021, voters in Pennsylvania's Allegheny County, which includes Pittsburgh, passed a measure to restrict solitary confinement except in cases of lockdowns and emergencies. The sheriff in Illinois' Cook County, which includes Chicago, has said the Cook County jail – one of the country's largest – has also stopped using solitary confinement...

Naila Awan, the interim co-director of policy at the New York Civil Liberties Union, says that New York making this change could have larger influence across the country.

"As folks look at what New York has done, other larger jails that are not quite the size of Rikers will be able to say, 'If New York City is able to do this, then we too can implement similar programs here, that it's within our capacity and capabilities," Awan says. "And to the extent that we are able to get this implemented and folks see the success, I think we could see a real shift in the way that individuals are treated behind bars.""

-via NPR, December 20, 2023

#prison system #prison #jail #criminal justice system #criminal justice reform #prison industrial complex #us news #united states #new york #nyc #new york city #rikers island #eric adams #solitary confinement #us politics #police brutality #cw police brutality #cw death #cw suicide #prison reform #carceral state #good news #hope

[corroded-hellfire]

Sniffles and Snuggles - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with my dear @munson-blurbs 💕

Older!eddie edit by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Summary: When your baby girl wakes up sick, her daddy is there to take care of her

Note: The thought of Eliza being all clingy to Eddie because she doesn’t feel well and just wants her daddy inspired this so I hope you enjoy the thoughts that just pop into my head

Words: 4k

[As You Wish Masterlist]

A familiar cry wakes you from your slumber. It’s muffled—coming from down the hall. Your eyes open in the darkness of your bedroom. Glancing over at the window you see the slightest gray creeping into the blackness of night. Morning must be rolling around you surmise as you stretch your arms out above your head. The cry sounds again and you stare up at your ceiling while you wait to see if it’s going to continue or not. There have been times where Eliza has woken up, cried out a few times simply because she wanted attention, then let it go. 

Eddie’s fast asleep next to you, turned your way, giving you a clear view of the drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. A soft chuckle falls out of you as you trail your gaze down to see your husband’s bare chest slowly moving up and down with his steady breaths. Another cry from your daughter breaks your focus on your sexy man though, and you push yourself out of bed to go see what’s bothering her. 

The closer you get to Eliza’s room, you can hear the different noises she’s making. These aren’t just the typical cries she sometimes has in the middle of the night. There’s whining and a whimpering that’s breaking your heart. 

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” 

As soon as you see your one-year-old you know something is up. Her cheeks are flushed and her brown curls are matted to her forehead in sweat. She’s holding onto the bars of her crib like she’s an inmate begging to be freed from their jail cell. The moment her eyes land on you, the whining picks up and she’s scrambling for your attention. 

“What’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” you ask.

Not even making an attempt at the few words she knows how to say, Eliza simply raises her arms for you to pick her up. The heat radiating off of her little body in its pink onesie is evident the moment your hands are on her. Frowning, you hold her against your chest and gently press your lips to her forehead. 

“Oh, you’re burning up, baby. Is someone not feeling well?” Eliza buries her head in your neck, and you have your answer. “Come on, you. Let’s take some medicine that’ll help you feel better.”

Intermittent sniffles come from the baby as you walk with her into the kitchen. The medicines are kept on a high shelf and there’s no way you’ll be able to rummage for what you’re looking for with your daughter in your arms. Luckily, her Disney Princess highchair is only a few feet away and you move to set her down in it. This elicits an immediate negative reaction from Eliza. 

“It’s just for a second, sweetheart. Give Mommy one moment to find your medicine.” She clings to you as you try to place her in the chair, but a couple of kisses to the head and whispered assurances that you’re not going anywhere have her finally releasing her vice grip on you. As you watch her slump to the side in her seat, eyes glazed over and staring somewhere in the distance, you think her lack of strength or energy also contributed to her finally letting you go. 

The children’s Tylenol is easily findable, and you pour some of the thick berry flavored syrup into a small dosage cup. Eliza eyes it warily, as if already knowing that she’s not going to like it. She wrinkles her nose up as the blue medicine comes closer to her and her whines start up again. 

“This is going to help you feel better, my love. I promise.” You can’t blame Eliza for her cranky attitude, but you just wish she’d believe you and take the medicine without issue. But since when do children behave that way? Especially the children of Eddie Munson. 

“Come on,” you say as you set the little cup on the tray of her highchair. “It’ll be over really quick. You might even like how it tastes.” 

After a few more whiny protests and some cranky writhing in her seat, Eliza stares down at the liquid that might give her some relief. You’re pretty sure you can see the resignation in her brown eyes as gazes at the medicine.

“Here we go.” You lift the small cup up to her lips—which she begrudgingly opens—and tilt it up so the Tylenol pours into her mouth. The moment it’s all swallowed and Eliza closes her mouth, her face scrunches up in revulsion and she shakes her head. It doesn’t seem right to laugh when your daughter is feeling so lousy, but you can’t help but let out a chuckle at her visceral reaction to the taste. “Why don’t we watch a movie, huh? One of your favorites.”

Eliza’s body heat takes you by surprise again as you lift her from her chair. Her head lolls onto your shoulder as you walk into the living room and snatch up the movie on the top of the pile. The Little Mermaid disc isn’t in the case, and it doesn’t shock you at all. It’s probably already in the player, all ready to go. 

You scoop up the remote on the way to the couch and click on the television. Eliza’s curls tickle your chin as you hit the buttons that will lead you to the DVD screen. As suspected, The Little Mermaid is in there and ready to be watched for the thousandth time. 

“Here we go,” you say, snuggling into the couch with her. “Let’s watch Ariel, yeah?” You’re hoping that the medicine will allow her to get some more sleep. The way she holds herself to your body lets you know she wants to be cuddled. Adjusting yourself so that it’s comfortable for the both of you, you lean back and kick your feet up on the coffee table, allowing Eliza to use your torso as her bed. Her big eyes turn towards the television at the familiar sounds of her favorite movie. One of your hands goes to her tiny back, rubbing reassuring and calming circles, while the other gently strokes her soft downy hair. 

You’re fighting sleep when you hear the heavy-footed sound of Eddie padding out to the living room. His hair is a mess, curls askew, and he scratches at his stubble as he yawns. 

“What’re my sweet girls doing up at this hour?” he asks softly, re-tying the strings of his plaid pajama pants. 

You return his yawn with a weary smile. “Someone is sick and spiked a fever, so I’m just laying with her until the Tylenol kicks in,” you explain, kissing your baby’s sweaty curls. 

Eddie looks at you, kindness and empathy still radiating from his tired eyes. “Babe, you look exhausted.” He leans down to try and take Eliza from your embrace, frowning when you pull back. “Let me help.”

“S’okay, Eds. I got it.” 

“But you need to sleep so you can go to work tomorrow,” he protests. 

Noting that you’re distracted by the conversation at hand, Eliza takes advantage and wriggles from your grasp. She plops her head down on a nearby pillow and almost immediately falls asleep, congested snores emanating from her tiny nostrils. 

You furrow your brow, lowering your voice so you don’t disturb your daughter’s slumber. “No, I’m staying home with her. You go into work.”

“I have more vacation days saved up,” he points out, holding out his arms. “Hand me the child and go back to bed.”

You give in, too tired to argue further, kissing him and Eliza before trudging back to bed. You look over your shoulder before you head down the hall, back to your bedroom. Eddie has made himself comfortable on one side of the couch, placing a throw pillow on his lap. He carefully maneuvers Eliza so she can curl up in the same position, rubbing gentle circles on her back to try and break up some of the congestion. It’s not his first rodeo with a sick kid, and based on his older children’s experiences, it won’t be his last. 

When your alarm goes off an hour later, you feel anything but rested. Your muscles ache as your body all but begs for more sleep, but you try to shove away the discomfort with a warm shower. It helps somewhat, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost fall asleep standing up. 

The family room is quiet; the only sound is the soft hum of the DVD player whirring, the movie long over. Eddie is sprawled out on the couch, his long limbs flung in every direction over the furniture like an overgrown starfish. Eliza, always one to copy her daddy, is spread out on top of his chest.  They’re both snoring, though you truly can’t be sure which one of them is louder. 

Trying to make the least amount of noise possible, you head into the kitchen and prepare breakfast for yourself and the boys. You know the drill by now: cereal for Ryan, Eggos for Luke. This particular morning though, you don’t think you’ll be able to ingest anything other than a large cup of coffee. 

The ringing of two alarm clocks faintly reaches you in the kitchen. Knowing it takes both of them a minute—or a few in Luke’s case—to get out of bed, you know you have time to finish prepping the food before you head down the hall to intercept them. You have to inform them that on this side of the house there are two sleeping beauties currently sawing wood. 

“Hey,” you say in a hushed tone as you meet up with the boys in front of their rooms. “Daddy and Eliza are sleeping on the couch. You have to be quiet, okay?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Ryan grumbles, rubbing his left eye with the heel of his hand. Sometimes his preteen moments popped up when you were least able to handle them. 

“Why are they on the couch?” Luke asks, voice lower for him, but still a bit loud. 

“Eliza isn’t feeling well, and they must’ve fallen asleep waiting for her medicine to kick in,” you explain. 

“Is she okay?” Ryan asks.

“She’s fine, sweetie. Just some sniffles,” you tell him. “Now come on, your breakfasts are ready.”

Most of breakfast manages to go smoothly and quietly, until Luke drops his fork on the ground, and it lands on the linoleum with a definitive clang. Your second oldest winces as he turns to you. “Sorry,” he silently mouths. Honestly, you had expected him to make a bigger noise than that at some point, so this is nothing. 

Once they finish their breakfast, you usher the boys down the hall and tell them to get ready for school. You finish getting ready for work as well. It’s hard to focus on doing your hair or finding a pair of shoes when you know your baby girl is sick in the other room. But you know she’ll be fine; she’s with Eddie. Super Dad. Being a mom came with a boatload of anxieties, but Eddie always managed to make everything better and less stressful. You joke to him all the time that some magic must’ve rubbed off on him after all the times he’s played D&D throughout his life. 

You finish getting ready the same time the boys do, and you see them slipping on their backpacks in the family room. They make no noise, yet their presence in the room must have been enough because both Eddie and Eliza stir from their nap. 

“How are you feeling, Eliza?” Ryan asks, tone still soft and low. 

His baby sister’s only response is to heave an overdramatic sigh, very reminiscent of her father. 

“Feel better!” Luke chirps with far too much enthusiasm. 

With an irritated whine, Eliza puts her hands over her tiny ears at her brother’s loud volume. She buries her face in Eddie’s chest, signaling that the conversation with her siblings is over. Eddie uses one hand to caress his daughter's brown locks, hoping it will calm and relax her, and waves to his sons with the other. 

“Have a good day at school, guys,” he tells them. The two of them wave back and say their goodbyes before they head out the front door to get to their bus stop down on the corner of the street. 

It’s your turn to leave now and you really don’t want to. This is the hardest you’ve ever had to push yourself to get out of the house and go to work. A restless night’s sleep or a massive headache making you not want to go in is nothing compared to knowing your child is home sick. 

Once you have everything ready to go, you walk over and lean down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“I gotta go now, baby. But I don’t wanna.” You give him the most adorable pout that has a smile lighting up his tired face. 

“I’ll hold down the fort,” he tells you. “Have a good day at work. Though it won’t be as amazing as Eliza-Daddy Day.”

“I’m very jealous that I don’t get to be a part of it.” You smile down at your daughter, who has fallen back asleep, and admire the adorable features that she’s inherited from the both of you. “I’ll see you guys later. I love you.”

“We love you too, baby. I love you more, though. But don’t tell Eliza I said that; she’s a very territorial little girl.” 

Chuckling, you lean down and press one more kiss to your husband’s lips. “Bye, baby.”

Eddie dozes on and off as he stays as still as possible on the couch so as not to wake the baby. It’s certainly not the most comfortable position, but he’ll be damned if his daughter is awake because of him. He keeps one hand on her back; she’s so little underneath it, and he’s suddenly overcome with a fierce urge to protect her. 

Eliza eventually wakes up around lunchtime, tears immediately springing to her eyes. Her face crumples when she tries to breathe in through her nose and realizes that she can’t. 

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, keeping his daughter close to his chest. “How ya feeling, baby girl?”

“Uck,” she grunts out, swiping messily at her runny nose. 

“Are you hungry?” Eddie asks before deciding for her. “You need to eat something.”

He picks her up and starts to set her in a flowery pink baby walker—surprisingly, Luke had been the one to pick it out at Babies R Us—but Eliza is in no mood to be put down. She lets out a whine that sounds more like a shriek. 

Eddie winces at the piercing noise, instinctively bringing her against his chest again. “Hey, hey, what is it?” he softly asks, but she just whimpers and hides her face in his neck. 

“Dada.”

“Sweet pea, I was just gonna go into the kitchen to get us some lunch,” he tries to explain, knowing full well that it’s next to useless. “You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”

Eliza shakes her head against his body and sniffles pathetically. “Nooooo. Dada!”

Eddie sighs, giving in to the prospect that the two of them will be attached at the hip all day. “Okay, Lize, you can come with me,” he acquiesces. “We can make a mess of the kitchen together.” He lowers his voice before adding, “just don’t tell Mommy.”

He makes two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with one hand, the other holding on to Eliza’s diapered butt while he works “And they said I had no talent. Ha.”

“Goo Dada.”

Eddie’s glad he understands her normal baby talk enough, because interpretation is even harder now that she’s congested. 

“I did good? Why, thank you.” He hands her a piece of sandwich and she immediately drops it on the ground. 

“Eliza!”

She crosses her tiny arms and twists her whole body back and forth in protest. “Ucky.”

“Lize, you love peanut butter—”

“UCKY!”

“Okay, no peanut butter for you today,” Eddie mutters, shoving half a sandwich in his mouth. “Let’s see what else we got.”

There isn’t a whole lot in the freezer, but Eddie spots a box of frozen Italian ice cups and pulls it out. He flips the lid open and purses his lips when he only sees a few yellow cups inside. 

“Guess your brothers ate all the cherry ones,” he grumbles as he rummages through the box, just to make sure he didn’t miss a red one. “Looks like we just have lemon left.” He makes an unamused face, but Eliza reaches out and grabs it anyway. “You want—y’know what? Sure.”

Eddie grabs a spoon from the utensil drawer and uses his foot to pull Eliza’s high chair over to the kitchen table—lest they be too far apart from each other and Eliza gets all fussy again. She willingly complies since she sees her Daddy will be sitting right in front of her. He pops open the lid of the frozen treat and sets it on the tray in front of her.

“All right, this is gonna be sour,” he warns, but she still eagerly accepts the bite. 

Her lips pucker immediately, her nose scrunching up like a bunny at the strange sensation on her tongue. 

Eddie lets out a laugh at the adorable and hilarious expression on her little face. “I told you! You want that sandwich now?”

Face still pinched up, Eliza vehemently shakes her head. 

“Mo!” Eliza stretches out her hand towards the cup.

“I’ll be damned,” Eddie muses, but he obliges. She makes the same expression with each bite, but she eats nearly half of the serving before declaring, “no mo!”

Eddie gets Eliza cleaned up, not worrying about the mess in the kitchen right now. He’ll take care of it later, as he’s sure the sick girl will take many naps today.  

He picks his daughter up out of her highchair and holds her on his hip. “Whatcha wanna do now?”

Eliza lets out a wet little baby cough and gives a shake of her head. 

“You don’t know?” Eddie asks. “Hmm. Ah, I’ve got it.”

He stands up, balancing Eliza on his side. She lays her head on his shoulder while he walks into her princess-themed room, using his elbow to flick on the overhead light. 

“Okay,” he says, kissing her temple, “let’s see what we’ve got.” He quickly scans the little bookshelf next to her bed to find her favorite story. With a triumphant grin, he plucks The Poky Little Puppy from its spot. 

He tucks himself into the rocking chair, settling in and shifting his daughter into his lap. Reaching behind him, he grabs the bright pink throw blanket and drapes it over her, digging his toes into the carpet to gently sway back and forth. 

Eliza is enraptured by her dad reading her favorite book to her, eyes wide as she clings to every syllable. She usually falls asleep to it, conditioned from countless nights where it’s been used as a bedtime story, but she’s still fresh from her nap. Besides, she’s having too much fun with this daddy-daughter bonding to be sleepy. 

She only gets fussy again once Eddie closes the book, her symptoms more prominent without the distraction of Eddie’s story-telling skills. 

“I think it’s time for another dose of medicine, baby girl,” Eddie whispers, trying to appear enthusiastic despite his own waning energy levels.

She downs the syrup easily, so out of sorts that she doesn’t even process its rancid taste until after it’s done. Eddie laughs at her contorted face, plopping down on the couch. “All right, my brave little girl,” he says as he grabs the remote, “what should we watch?”

The mere question brings a tiny spark to Eliza’s eyes, giving her just enough energy to bounce in her dad’s lap and point at the TV. “Mermah!”

“The Little Mermaid again?”

Eliza nods and Eddie internally groans. It’s a cute movie, but he’s pretty sure he could recite it line for line at this point. 

“Okay, let’s go under the sea,” he says as he starts the movie from the beginning, settling in to listen to Sebastian belt out “Under the Sea” for the umpteenth time. 

Still curled up into his chest, no indication of moving anytime soon, Eliza wipes her runny nose on her dad’s t-shirt. She doesn’t take her eyes off of the screen as she rubs her nose against the soft cotton with a sniffle. 

“Thanks, kid.”

“Welcuh.”

Eliza settles her head on the middle of her father’s chest and watches the different colored fish and sea life all gather together at the concert for King Triton. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention, mostly just focusing on how the little girl’s breathing is sounding and trying to keep her body supported up against his. 

But Eddie’s ears perk up when a familiar little voice joins in with the singing on screen. Ariel is singing “Part of Your World” and there’s a small, congested mumble singing alongside her. Eddie grins to himself as he listens to his daughter’s rendition. 

“Schingamabobs? Gots twenny. Bu’ who cawes? No bih deal. I wan’ mooooooo.”

All the times Eddie insisted on singing to Eliza while she was in your womb have seemed to pay off. She’s a little musical prodigy after his own heart. 

“You wanna be a mermaid, Lize?” Eddie asks her softly. She nods in response, never taking her eyes off of the television screen. 

Eddie half-heartedly watches the movie with her from that point forward. When it comes to the scene of Ariel using a fork as a comb for her hair at the dinner table, Eliza reaches up and begins to play with her own hair. Silky brown curls slip through her little fingers as she absentmindedly strokes her locks. Eddie would love to know what’s going on inside her head right now. Is she thinking of trying to use a fork as a comb? When Eliza brings a few pieces of her hair in front of her face to study, Eddie has another thought. He wonders if she wants to have the same red hair as her favorite Disney princess. To show her that he loves her hair just the way it is, Eddie presses a few soft kisses to the top of her head. 

As the movie progresses, Eliza becomes stiller on Eddie’s chest, and she’s not made a peep in a while. Her father watches her tiny back move up and down and sees it’s going in a slow, steady rhythm. As if to further prove his suspicion that she’s asleep, the sounds of her stuffy snores reach Eddie’s ears, making him smile. 

Eliza stirs a bit, wiggling around in an attempt to get comfortable in a new position. Eddie gently wraps his arm around her to rub her little back in calming circles. Within seconds, she’s out like a light again. 

“Daddy’s always gonna be here for you, Liza Bean,” he murmurs against her scalp, sweaty from fever. He takes a deep breath and settles in. 

Neither he nor Eliza wake when you return home, both of them sound asleep on the couch. The kitchen is a mess; there’s a random piece of sandwich on the floor and a melted lemon Italian ice on the table, but clean-up can wait for a moment. 

You watch the two of them breathe in tandem, heart soaring at the way your daughter curls up into her dad with all the love and trust in the world. 

Fatherhood looks perfect on him, you think, but wrinkle your nose upon further inspection, but the booger stains on his shirt definitely do not. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

[gurugirl]

an adorable bad boy | loveable!rogue!harry

This is part 1 of a Patreon AU (4 parts have been posted on Patreon already). If you'd like more check out my Patreon! xoxo

A loveable rogue is someone who breaks the law for personal profit while being nice and charming, likely with a sad or dark past.

AU Premise: Harry has been in and out of jail for nearly a decade due to a string of bad luck and bad choices. But he's not a bad guy. Not really.

Summary: Harry's trying to keep on the straight and narrow now that he's out of jail but things have never come easy for him. And then he meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. If only she'd give him her number.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: Mentions of drugs and the sale of drugs, mentions of jail time

❊❊❊

Harry’s life sucked. Every time he tried to get on the right track, his past would come back to haunt him. He took responsibility for the things he did and he knew he deserved to have the book thrown at him. But he also knew where he came from didn’t make things easier for him. Starting at a young age he had to act like an adult and do things most people would never imagine needing to do just to get by.

Now, nearing 30, he was determined to get his shit together. If he had to step foot in another jail cell again he was going to just end it. He couldn’t handle another sentence that had him losing a job, his car, the place he was staying… Every time he got into trouble it was like he had to start over again. From scratch.

And he was always well-behaved once behind bars so he usually got out early on good behavior. But keeping out of trouble as a free man was nearly impossible. He’d be tossed out on the street once he was released but with no place to go and not a dime to his name, times were hard. He had to hustle for a dollar. And when he meant hustle, it usually involved something illegal.

Getting a job that paid well was a joke. No one wanted a convicted felon. No one would hire a man who had a criminal record. Why risk it? He sure as hell wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.

There was no program to help him reintegrate. No help for a safe spot to sleep. Shelters wouldn’t even allow him a safe haven due to his past. He had nothing. Incarceration meant drudging through, keeping his head down, and following directions. That was easy. But there was nothing easy about rebuilding his life over and over again once he was out from behind bars.

His sister wouldn’t answer his calls anymore. He’d drained that well dry. His mother had cut him off too. His cousin was a last resort, but that’s sort of how his life was these days. Everything was a last resort.

“Harry! My dude! You get out?”

He was leaning against a tall residential building in an alley with a cigarette in hand. The phone he was using was the one that he had when he got locked up, kept for him upon his release. The officer helping him fill out his release forms allowed him to charge his phone before they pushed him out the doors. How kind.

The wifi signal from the bookstore gave him access to his apps so he could make the phone call he was dreading.

“Yep. Glad to be out of there. How are you doing?” He figured he’d make some small talk before getting to the point. He didn’t want to be rude, after all.

Saul gave him the rundown of what had been going on with everyone. And then Harry learned he was engaged.

“Wow. Congrats, cousin. Proud of you. You guys living together?”

“Nah. Not until after the wedding. She’s a really good girl. Super sweet. Her whole family is. Just like, the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she doesn’t want to move in until we’re married since that looks bad to her parents,” Saul laughed. “They’re super conservative about stuff like that. They think she’s still a virgin.”

Harry humored him with a chortle through the phone and then sighed. The sun was going down. Small talk needed to come to a halt. He had to get this part over with.

“So, uh… hate to ask this but um, could you let me crash at your place for a few nights? I’ve got nowhere to go since I just got out and gonna be cold tonight. Otherwise, I’d just sleep in the park or something.”

Silence for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Did you ask your sister? I mean I’m sure–“

“She hates me right now. Won’t take my calls. But man, look, it’s okay if you can’t. I get it.”

“You know what? Sure. You can stay here for a bit. I know shit’s hard. How you gettin’ here?”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned his head back into the building in relief, “Gonna walk. Literally have nothing to my name. Just my old cell phone, half charged, and this free wifi I’m using to call you. I can get there in like an hour.”

Saul told him he’d pick him up but Harry didn’t want to trouble him anymore than he had. It was already embarrassing asking for help. Plus a walk through the city would feel good. It’d been a while since he’d seen the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city.

It was late September. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with boots. At least he had a beanie on his head. His cousin lived in one of those “up-and-coming” neighborhoods. Gritty but recently gentrified. His flat was two floors up. A flimsy plastic call button for the residents hung outside the reinforced glass door that opened up to a small lobby with mailboxes in the wall to the left and just beyond that, old wooden stairs that led up to each apartment.

Saul was on floor three. Harry took the stairs two at a time and the door was already open with his smiling cousin waiting for him and then a warm embrace that made Harry feel like maybe he was going to be okay. Silly as it sounded. He hadn’t been hugged in over a year. Hadn’t felt safe and relaxed in over a year.

“Ordered some pizza from this fire spot. Should be here soon. Beer?”

Harry could cry. He hadn’t had pizza or beer in over a year either. There was a lot he hadn’t had in over a year.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you, man.”

Harry followed Saul into his tiny galley kitchen and leaned against the frame of the door as he watched his cousin pull a beer from the fridge, “And thank you for everything. For this. I really mean it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.”

Handing Harry his beer Saul laughed, “We’ll see. Alyssa and I might need help for the wedding next summer. Her dad wants to have the wedding at their place. They’ve got this nice house with a massive garden in the back. But they need people to help landscape and do some manual labor to get it ready. Might save us a little money if you could help. But that’s a ways off,” he waved his hand as he walked past Harry into the living room. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back.”

. . .

A few nights turned into a few weeks. And Harry did find a job, but he’d need to save up for a while longer to be able to afford a place on his own. He figured, at least he could pay Saul for food and help pay some of the bills in the meantime.

Fortunately, the job he found paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it was illegal. It was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place.

Selling drugs. Mainly weed. Some shrooms, ecstasy, molly… party drugs.

He applied to 28 places. Twenty. Eight. Dishwasher, food prep, janitor, midnight stocker, busboy, fast food line cook… everything he could find from places that might take a chance on someone with a record. After a week of having Harry sleeping on his couch, Saul appeared to be getting frustrated. So, Harry did what he always did when he needed money (and who doesn’t need money?). He called Memo.

Memo always had a spot for Harry. And because he trusted Harry he gave him an advance.

The first thing Harry did with his money was buy some clothes for himself and groceries for the house. Getting rid of his supply was easy. He still had all his old contacts to sell to and with Harry’s natural charm, he was introduced to even more people who wanted some killer weed and Harry was their man.

Saul seemed to lighten up a bit when Harry began paying him cash for his part of the bills and to help cover some of the rent.

Being a drug dealer bought him time. Eventually, he’d find a better gig. He knew there were places that would hire felons, he just had to be patient. But in the meantime, doing shady shit to get by was necessary.

“So, I’m going out tonight. With Alyssa and a few others. Just going to Ray’s. You can join us if you want.”

Harry was sitting on the couch readying himself for another night in but maybe going out with his cousin for a few beers could be fun, “Anyone I know going?”

Saul shook his head, “Doubt it. It’ll be Alyssa, her little sister, and a few of our mutual friends.”

Harry figured it was better if the people that were going to be there didn’t know him. And besides, what better way to spend a Friday night as a single man? Sitting at Saul’s house was fine, but going out and meeting new people with a few beers in hand sounded a hell of a lot better.

Harry nodded, “Why not?”

. . .

Roy’s might have been an old hole in the wall, but it was a popular old hole in the wall. Harry could hear the music before they walked into the black brick building with the lighted, vintage metal sign that hung above the door.

The smell of stale cigarettes and beer hung in the dark space, a shiny lacquered bar that ran half the length of the room, high-top tables, two pool tables, and a few booths.

Alyssa nearly pummeled Saul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek as she squealed.

“We’re just over here! Tony got us a big booth 'cause he got here early.” She pulled Saul along with her. Harry followed.

The group that came into view were two young men and two young women. He barely had a chance to take it all in before Alyssa pulled his arm, “Everyone! This is Harry, Saul’s cousin. The one we were telling you about.”

The one we were telling you about. Harry knew what that meant.

Harry smiled and nodded as he slid into the booth. It was long and easily accommodated all seven of them.

“I’m Kelin,” the man he sat next to held his hand out to Harry to shake. The one next to Kelin greeted Harry, “I’m Tony,” he turned and looked at the girl next to him, “And this is my girlfriend, Dasha.” Dasha smiled and waved at Harry.

Then as Alyssa moved into the opposite side of the booth with Saul at the end she hugged the girl next to Dasha, “And this is my little sister, Y/n.”

Some moments in time are unexplainable. Like moments when things feel like fate but you don’t believe in that sort of thing. Or like when someone is speaking a language you don’t know but you swear you understood everything they just said. Sometimes it was more like a riddle you couldn’t figure out all day only to wake up in the middle of the night from a dream with the answer.

The moment Y/n set her pretty gaze upon Harry was like that for him. Something inexplicable. Something enchanting. Almost mythical.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Harry spoke as he tried to tear his eyes from the angel called Y/n. He forced his pupils away to look at everyone else but his heart was already beginning to thump violently in his chest.

Drinks were ordered and conversation resumed to wherever it was left off before Saul and Harry’s arrival.

“So, we were discussing anything but the wedding!” Dasha laughed as Alyssa moaned exaggeratedly.

“I was only letting you guys know the theme!” Alyssa laughed.

“Girl, tonight is a night off. And the wedding isn’t for like another 8 months!”

Harry tried to focus on the conversation as he sipped his beer but he couldn’t help allowing his eyes the indulgence of Y/n’s pretty face. She had some kind of clear drink. A vodka soda maybe. And when Kelin started talking about the Halloween party he was throwing Y/n’s eyes met Harry’s again and he thought he was going to fall limp to the floor in a puddle at her feet.

He didn’t even know what her voice sounded like and he was already imagining waking up next to her in the morning and getting to see her disheveled hair and warm pajamas and soft, tired eyes. He had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before. Ever.

Another round of drinks made its way to the table and Harry hardly spoke a word. Y/n only laughed a few times at what was being said but otherwise, she remained quiet as she sipped her drink.

He needed to talk to her. He needed to learn all about her. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, so vital to him. But every time she looked at him his throat went dry and he searched her face for any sign that she might be feeling the same odd connection that he was feeling.

“I need a cigarette,” Y/n spoke as she looked at Alyssa, making Saul and Alyssa scoot out of the booth to let her out.

Harry tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her walk past before speaking up, “Yeah, me too.” He hopped up from the booth and jogged to catch up with his dream girl before she could push the door open.

“Allow me,” he grabbed the handle and opened the door for her.

“What a gentleman. Thank you,” she grinned teasingly at him and Harry felt his head swirl and his knees go weak. She smiled at him and he was sure he was in love at that moment.

“I try,” he chuckled as he followed her to the edge of the building before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. Harry liked the same brand.

He pulled out his lighter and held it out as she put the filter between her lips. The flame lit the tip and then Harry put his own cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

“You have good taste,” Y/n gestured with her cigarette toward his and watched his mouth as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs.

“Guess we both do,” he blew the smoke out and it mixed with the smoke she blew out at the same time.

“Heard you recently got out of jail. Alyssa told me to keep my distance,” she laughed as she took another puff, her eyes on his.

“Yeah. Trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Jail sucks,” he let his gaze wander over her lips and jawline and down to her neck, “I’m not that bad, though. You gonna get in trouble with your big sister for having a smoke with me?”

She snorted (which Harry found adorable and irresistible) and shook her head, “I’m an adult. She tries to act protective and tough but she knows better than to tell me what I can and can’t do. In fact,” she took a drag and lowered her gaze to Harry’s outfit and then back up to his eyes before exhaling, “When she tells me not to do something it just makes me want to do it more.”

Harry felt his face grow warm as he listened to her speak and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, dimples winking awake in his cheeks.

“Oh shit,” she leaned into the brick and crossed an arm over her middle, one arm angled out with the cigarette propped between her two fingers, “You’ve got dimples.”

Harry ashed his stick, keeping the smile on his face, “I guess I do. Is it okay?”

Y/n laughed softly, the prettiest sound Harry had ever heard, and nodded, “Of course it’s okay. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable…” Harry repeated as he leaned his shoulder into the brick and faced Y/n, “Think I’m adorable?” He pulled his lips into his mouth, tamping his wide smile as he blushed. Yeah, he was blushing.

She reached her hand up to his shoulder-length hair to tug at a curl, “You are. Pretty curls, green eyes, dimples. I get why Alyssa didn’t want me to get mixed up with you. An adorable bad boy. Dangerous combo.”

Harry shook his head and looked down at her feet before winding his pupils up her frame to her face, “Bad boy? Nah, not really. Just made some stupid decisions.”

Y/n shrugged and pulled at her cigarette before blowing out the hot smoke, “Mmm….” She pursed her lips and squinted at him, “You’re definitely a bad boy. You kind of emanate that persona. And I bet you use those dimples to charm all the ladies.”

Harry chuckled and looked down again to give his retinas a break from her breathtaking beauty. When he looked back at her he shook his head slowly, “If anything you’re the charmer. Making me blush over here.”

She giggled and leaned her head back as she looked up into the sky. Harry was not going to be getting over her laugh. He knew he’d be dreaming about it too.

“I’m just honest is all. Not particularly charming I don’t think.”

Harry shook his head and pointed at her, “No. You are definitely charming. Sweeping me right off my feet.”

“Oh, I am? Falling for me already, Harry?” She smirked at him and turned her body to face his, mimicking his stance.

Was it too soon for him to fall for her? Yes. But Harry was never one to play by usual timelines. He grinned and licked his lips, “Be bad if I said I was?”

She puffed out a laugh, “Probably would be bad. You don’t even know me. I’m really not all that great. Lots of issues. Very unstable,” she laughed as she gestured at her head and then wrapped her lips around the filter to inhale.

“If that’s the case, then you’re just that much cuter,” Harry parted his lips to place the cigarette between them as he kept his eyes on hers.

She bit her lip and turned to look out into the street, “You gonna go to the Halloween party next week?”

Harry shook his head, “Probably not. Wasn’t invited. Don’t like to dress up for shit like that anyway.”

“Hmm… If you go I’ll go,” she turned to look at him and raised her brows.

Harry stitched his brows together and tilted his head, “Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Sure. Why not. Wasn’t planning on going either but I will if you do.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, “Still wasn’t invited, though. We’ll see.”

Y/n tossed her butt down to the ground and stepped over the tip to crunch out the burning end, “Probably should get back in there. Alyssa’s gonna think we’ve run off together. That’d really get her going.”

Harry chuckled and followed suit with his own cigarette and nodded before following her back to the booth in the bar.

This time, as luck would have it, Harry scooted into his original spot and Y/n sat down next to him at the end.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Alyssa frowned at Y/n and Harry leaned forward to put his elbows on the table as he turned to look at Y/n’s profile. She was certainly stunning.

Y/n shook her head and looked at Dasha, “Will you pass my drink down?”

Harry looked down at his lukewarm beer and pushed himself into the seat, his back hitting the vinyl cushion behind him before turning his head to watch as Y/n drank from her glass.

Everyone at the table resumed their conversation but both Harry and Y/n were thinking about the way their thighs were pressed together and how warm it felt. How nice it was.

“You’re staring,” she whispered with a grin as she set her glass down on the table and turned slightly to see the limn of his outline in her peripheral.

He grinned as he leaned his shoulder into hers as he spoke quietly, “Can’t help it.”

Harry tried to be as subtle as possible with everyone around but his skin was tingling in delight any time she shifted to pick up her glass her thigh ran against the stretch of his jeans. He regretted that he couldn’t stare into her beautiful eyes but he loved her nearness. The smell of her perfume and her shampoo.

“So, Harry,” Tony spoke up, “What do you do for fun?”

Harry was caught off guard. He’d been far too focused on the girl next to him that he nearly forgot he might need to participate in a conversation.

He laughed and looked at Saul and then to Tony, “I like music a lot. Um… reading. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“He used to be in a band. Plays guitar and sings. He can play almost any instrument actually,“ Saul chimed in.

Harry rolled his eyes when everyone began to ask questions. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself because then that wound up leading to discussing his time in jail. Thankfully no one brought it up, though he was sure everyone already knew anyway. Saul wasn’t exactly discreet.

When the bill was paid after everyone threw down some cash, Y/n slid out of the booth with Harry right behind her, “Can I have your number?” He spoke so only she could hear as he brushed his fingers against hers.

She stopped and turned toward him, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ll give you my number if you come to the party next weekend.”

Everyone began to walk to the door and Y/n turned to leave but Harry wasn’t done. He felt his heart walloping in his chest as he hastened his steps after her, pulling at her hand as stealthily as possible, “I can’t just crash a party I wasn’t invited to.”

When they stepped outside Y/n moved to the side to let everyone walk past and she looked up at Harry, “If you don’t come then you don’t get my number. It’s up to you.”

Harry swallowed as he looked down at the pretty girl in amazement, “Fine. I’ll be there.”

She smiled sweetly and raised her hand to poke at his dimple, “I know you will.”

NEXT PART (link goes to Patreon)

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[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello love, I had a thought after the new episode about Crosshair x reader where she’s been with Hunter and wrecker trying to find Omega (and him) and when crosshair steps out of the ship she just runs to him <3 maybe it also includes them talking on the marauder after about what’s happened. I hope this sparks interest for you!! I love your writing :)

Forgiven

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You reminisce on the first time Crosshair fought against you and his brothers. He thought you'd never forgive him, but he is surprised when you reunite.

A/N- So sorry this one took so long! I'm still sick but was determined to get this out! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it, please let me know if there is anything I can do to improve.

Word Count- 2,276

You remember the first time you realized you lost Crosshair to the Empire. The memory plagued your sleepless nights...

"I know what you're going to do, but please- don't." Omega begged Crosshair. You turned to listen to them, but couldn't figure out what she was talking about. What was he going to do? And how did Omega know about it?

"What do you know?" He remarked.

"I know you can't help it..." She rested a hand to his shoulder. The act warmed your heart, but anxiety rested in the deep pit of your stomach.

You couldn't place exactly why. I mean, you were all imprisoned. But, really, it was nothing the squad hadn't been in before. This was the kind of anxiety that rushed your veins. The kind that appears out of no where and strikes you.

At this feeling, you stood up to move and sit on Crosshairs right. He wasn't very affectionate in public, but you knew the proximity would ease your nerves.

Your hand gently ran down his arm as you sat, he straightened up at your touch. He was on edge as well.

The small gesture of him spreading his right leg slightly wider, to touch you, made you smile. Even in a cell, he could make you feel at home.

He didn't turn to look at you, but took your hand in his, holding it in his lap.

Just seconds later, a masked group of clones arrived.

"CT-9904, you're coming with us."

"Excuse me?" You stood, Hunter was quicker than you though.

"Oh no no, no. We stay together." The clone immediately rammed the butt of his gun into Hunter's stomach. He doubled over in pain.

"Stand down!" The clone yelled. You still advanced, determined to stick together.

A hand grabbed at your wrist. It was Crosshair, still looking down.

"Stop, you'll just get into more trouble." He then looked up at you. He stood, still holding onto you. Your breath hitched, scared for him. What would the Empire do to him?

"Wait!" You called out, he turned around just before stepping out of the cell.

You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, somewhat of a 'goodbye.' You could see his face get visibly softer. You pulled him closer for a hug, your face in his neck. "Whatever happens, try to meet us at the Hangar..." You whispered. Only he heard.

He nodded his head at you, then turned to follow the clone. The jail wall went back up.

You watched him walk away, the clones right behind him. "He'll be okay. We'll find a way out." Hunter reassured, a hand on your shoulder.

He was right. You all did find a way out. In an attempt to retrieve everyone's armor, you all rushed to the Hangar. Just before putting your last arm piece on, you stopped. "Where's Crosshair! He should be back by now!" You had hoped he found a way to escape the clones that took him. Looking around again didn't help.

"Tech, power up the ship. The rest of us will go look for Crosshair." Hunter commanded.

No one had a chance to respond, the large doors of the cabin opened to reveal him. He was leading a large squad of troopers.

"Uhh, I don't think we'll have to go far..." Omega spoke.

Your breath hitched, but you weren't scared. Crosshair would never do anything to hurt you. Nor his brothers, right?

"Cross!" You went to meet him, you didn't care about the other clone troopers next to him.

However, Hunter blocked you with his body. You stopped, wary but trusting his extreme senses.

"Best stand down sergeant." Crosshair said, rifle at the ready. "Make it easy on yourself... And your team." He looked you in the eyes, then back to Hunter.

"Have you lost your mind!" Hunter interrogated.

The two of them argued back and forth, though neither side made an official attack.

You were so confused, why would Crosshair turn on everyone. Why would he turn on you? Tears prickled, you placed your helmet on so no one could see.

"Now surrender." Crosshair tried, deep down you didn't think he wanted to injure anyone.

Blast fired everywhere.

Omega covered her head- barred down. You rushed to her, giving her cover. Hunter joined your side, now he was guiding Omega back to the ship.

You, Wrecker, and Echo fought hard, which gave Hunter enough time to usher Omega safely to the ship.

Hunter barely had time to run back out, guns firing, when all the overhead lights went off. The storm outside did nothing to help the lighting.

You crouched down to collect your thoughts, looking through your visor you saw many heat signatures. It was hard to tell who was who, but identified Wrecker by his size and Echo by his arm.

You blasted at the on-coming troopers, distracted by a new wave of them coming in. Someone had called for backup.

A loud scream let you know Wrecker had been shot, you weren't close enough to help him. A glance back showed you Echo and Hunter pulling him to safety.

The second you turned back around the barrel of a gun was pointed at your head. A figure sat inches in front of you, also crouched down.

"Don't say a word." It was Crosshair...

You pushed your helmet off, suddenly desperate for some air. You stared at him with glossy eyes. He wouldn't really shoot you, would he?

"Follow them back to The Marauder. Do not tell a soul I let you." He commanded you, lowering his gun. Was he telling you to escape now?

"Cross, I don't-"

"It's not safe here. You have to run."

"Bu-"

"It is too late for me, but you need to go. Now." When you didn't get up, he raised his rifle at you.

"Go!"

You nodded, shoving your helmet over your head. You wasted no more time as you ran to the ship. Tech closed the ramp and door behind you.

The ship roared off, jumping into hyperspace immediately.

You were left dazed, confused, and heartbroken. How could you lose him so fast?

It had been a long time since you all had to run. Not a day, or night, went by that you didn't think about Crosshair. No matter what he thought about you- he was always going to be your true love.

You could only hope he still felt the same deep down.

While you secretly prayed that you'd run into him again, all your prayers were soon taken up. They shifted to be about Omegas safety, ever since she was physically taken from your arms on Ord Mantell.

They didn't stop until you, Hunter, and Wrecker received a coded message. It contained an abandoned planet's coordinates, sent by 'Lula.' You knew it was Omega, no one else knew about Wreckers (turned Omegas) stuffed doll.

Hunter couldn't fly the ship fast enough, you three soon arrived at the location.

At the sound of another ship landing, Wrecker went to see who it was. Just in case it was some kind of ambush.

Seconds later, you both heard giggles from Omega and laughter from Wrecker.

Hunter looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"Hunter, so see her." You said, resting a friendly hand on his knee.

He was silent for a moment, gaze still down. "What, what if she is ma-"

"Omega loves you, she's not mad at you for anything. Please go see your daughter." You smiled at your own words, and the fact that his face turned red.

He rose and walked out to see her. You followed behind, hugging Omega after she and Hunter had their moment.

"How... how did you escape?" Hunter asked, addressing the elephant in the room.

"I had help." Your smile dimmed, watching the empire ship door closely. A figure walked down, the second you copped a good look- you were running.

A gasp barely had time to leave your mouth, your feet hit the ground in quick strides. You didn't stop until you were met with his body.

He stumbled back, but caught you. Your arms immediately wrapped tightly around him. Like he was going to fade away.

You let out a single sob when his hand lifted to caress your hair, then back. "Cross..."

He didn't say a word, he just squeezed you tight. It told you all you needed to know.

In that moment you forgot all that he did. Heck, you didn't care about any of it. He was here, alive, safe, and not trying to attack anyone.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so, so sorry." He repeated himself, mumbling apologies over and over.

You pulled away, forcing his forehead down to touch yours. "Shut up." You silenced him with a kiss, your eyes closed.

It was an awkward few hours on The Marauder. Wrecker and Hunter were still wary on Crosshair. Truth be told, they had a right to be. Omega defended him when she could, but everyone needed to accept the change on their own time.

That Crosshair's days with the Empire was now in the past.

Omega soon fell asleep on Hunter, you could tell she needed a good nights sleep. One where she wasn't constantly looking over her shoulder, or scared someone would come in her sleeping quarters.

As Hunter put her to bed, Wrecker found himself on the verge of sleep too. He headed to one of the two cots hidden in the back.

"Hunter, go to bed." You gently suggested.

"You sure you'll be okay?" He eyed Crosshair, still not trusting.

"I'm a big girl Hunter. Plus, I don't think Cross would be dumb enough to go against all of us with no weapons." You tried to joke, but the tension was so thick you could cut it. Both men raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, "Go to bed. I'm fine, really." He nodded and headed off. That left you and Crosshair alone in the cockpit.

It was quiet for a minute, both of you were scared to speak first. It was all so... real, so serious all of a sudden.

"How bad was it?" You asked, turned away from him on purpose.

"Worse than you can imagine." He didn't mean to, but he broke your heart at his words.

You turned to face him, quickly taking note of how his hand shook. You looked from his hand to his face, he tried to hide it.

"Uhm, I guess i'll take the first watch if you want to get some rest." You were so uncomfortable. There was an unspoken thought dancing around the room. While you wanted to kiss and hold him, there was a weird air that surrounded you both. It made you question every move, like it was your first date all over again.

"Right..." Was all he could muster. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He bit this fear back with his next words. "I wish, I wish I could go back. Do things... differently."

"I know. Me too." You tried to meet his gaze, but he stared at the wall.

You were tired of this. What happened to the two of you?

"Crosshair."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong."

He stared.

"Cross, if you don't love me anymore just tell me. Don't beat around the bush."

This made him snap his head at you. "What? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Because after I kissed you, you haven't touched me! We used to tell each other everything, now we can't hold simple conversation! I Know a lot happened, I am so sorry you went through what you did. It shatters me just thinking about you getting hurt... but please, talk to me." You pleaded.

He grunted and sat up straight. "You deserve someone better! That's why. Because you shouldn't want to be with someone who turned on his brothers. Who abandoned his team. Who tried to kill the person he loved most. Maybe I should stop beating around the bush, you'll realize what I really am. Disposable."

You blinked up at him, heart beating fast. You didn't know what to say.

Crosshair 'humphed' and slouched back in his chair.

You rose to your feet, standing in front of him. You took his shaking hand in yours. "The man I love came back. He saved Omega. I know deep down you are the same Crosshair I fell in love with. The man that, even when controlled by an inhibitor chip, managed to let me run free. You could have killed me, that's what the chip told you to do... but, you didn't. Crosshair, I won't- I can't blame you for doing anything under the control of your chip."

"I did awful things after that chip was taken out..." He still thought he was unworthy, trying to make you agree.

"You can't push me away. You can't push away the people who love you." You still held his shaking hand in yours, raising your other to rest on his cheek.

"I forgive you... I truly do. I know it will be a long time until you forgive yourself, but I will be right here when you do. The guys will come around, just wait. I promise everything will be okay."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your palm. You moved down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. At his, he rested his hands on your hips and pulled you to his lap.

You curled yourself up, finally feeling that warm comfort you always felt in him.

You kiss him again, slowly this time.

"I'll do better..." He croaked.

"I know you will."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I have fr been sick for a whole week, like give me a break, body! When I am feeling 100% I will come back and fix any grammatical errors. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

#star wars the bad batch #star wars #tbb #fem reader #fanfic #tbb x reader #clone force 99 #bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair x reader #crosshair x y/n #crosshair x you #tbb x you #Crosshair tbb x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #established relationship #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #clone force 99 imagine #crosshair imagine #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch spoilers #spoilers #tbb spoilers

[novasdarling]

Hii🌹can i ask "It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that?"

with yandere Chrollo please? Thanks🌹

HEHEHEHE this motherfucker would. He's delusional in the scheme of him being like "Yeah my darling is better than me than anywhere else." but also he knows it's just a lie he makes so he doesn't feel too ad when you cry about being with him

Dangerous Out There

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of death, Mentions of punishment

The walls were plain and cold. Made of old cement bricks, leaving little room for any warmth or comfort. Any feelings sparking joy or tenderness were missing. Cold, bland, cruel. This jail cell represented the jailkeeper well. A void of happiness and delight was exactly what Chrollo was. Just this blackhole that took and took, destroying everything it touched and devoured.

However, no amount of sadness or begging changed his mind. Nothing let him declaw himself from you. No matter how much you begged these last few weeks, he refused to let go. Rather it seemed like your tears and pleas just made him dig deeper. Made him pull you closer to him, made him add more locks to the doors and windows. Like the more you begged and craved for freedom, the more he held onto you. The more he denied it. The more he felt like he needed to keep you locked away, keep you hidden. But you couldn't help the hope that pooled inside you. Hoping your begging would chip away at him. Make any sort of difference, cause him to feel any kind of remorse and let you go. A hope you would always hold onto.

Chrollo had made his way into the living room. Standing in the doorway, observing from behind as you watched one of the few movies he had provided when he first took you. You could recite it line by line.

"I know you're there."

"Your senses are getting better. Before you wouldn't have noticed me until you could see me."

Chrollo made his way forward, kneeling in front of you. Placing himself between your legs. It made your skin itch. You didn't give him an answer, even as he waited there. Starring up at you. You ignored him. Starring at the dumb movie in front of you. His hands squeezed your thighs.

"Most people say thank you after a compliment."

"Most people don't kidnap."

Chrollo laughed. Finding your response humorous. He always found your rebuttal funny and pleasant. Making it clear he enjoyed the bit of resistance you had. The wit that came with it. Your snappy remarks. It was fun for him, as long as you never went too far.

"Touché." Chrollo rubbed his knuckles over your cheek.

"Don't touch me."

Flinching away, you pushed him. Trying to create some distance from him. Trying to get the man you hated as far away as possible. He tried again, lifting his knuckles up to caress you, but you moved again. Denying him what he wanted twice.

"Enough."

He grabbed your arms. Trying to keep you still. Keeping himself between your legs and you caged.

"Let me go."

Chrollo held on. Dismissing your words as he wrestled you still.

"I want to go home."

Tears were forming in your eyes. You hated this, hated this man. Despised everything about all of this. How the hell did a charming stranger you bumped into one day turn into the man who was holding you captive? A man that killed and hurt people to get you. A man who had no boundaries.

"Let me go. I just want to go back. P-please. I won't tell anyone. I-I promise. I want to-"

"Stop it. Stop it now."

"Go to hell."

You lashed and kicked at him. Trying to get him away. Trying to make him let go. To understand just how much you hated him. How much you wanted him dead. That this wasn't home. That he wasn't what you wanted.

"I said stop it. Listen to me." Chrollo was raising his voice at you. Not yelling, but still enough to try to demand you listen to him. "Listen to me, just listen sweetheart." One hand now held both of your arms as the other made its way to hold your face still. Forcing you to look at him. "I'm trying to help you, my dear. Trying to keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that? Can't you see understand?"

He sounded angry yet, worried. It was a lesson he was trying to push into your mind. Trying to teach you with him was better than elsewhere. Yet, even as his words sounded sincere. You couldn't help, but laugh at him. Laugh at his words. Dangerous? The danger out there? He was fucking deranged. Worse than you thought.

"Whatever is out there, sure as hell can't be worse than being here with you."

Leaning in, close to his face so he could hear your words. Understand what you were saying. Understanding you meant it. That you would rather be out there with whatever he was worried about than with the monster that was pretending to be your saviour.

The look on Chrollo's face had changed. Like he was hurt and angry. Disappointed by your words. You knew that look, you had hurt his little fantasy. Ruined the image of him being your little hero. The look that meant your behaviour needed to be "corrected". That your wit and back talk had crossed the line.

"Seems like you need some reminding why you're here."

"What, another couple of days locked in the closet? I'll take that if it means being away from you." You spat in his face with the last sentence. Showing him you were genuine.

"See, I was thinking something different." Chrollo grabbed your upper arm. Pulling you up and making you follow him. "If you think I'm such a monster, perhaps I should leave you alone with a colleague of mine. Someone who doesn't care about your safety. Someone who doesn't love you like I do. Remember Feitan?"

You had made the worse mistake since he had taken you. Not only had you been resistant to him, but you had made him the enemy. Not just in the scheme of kidnapping, but in the idea of being with him. You told him how you saw him. Now he was going to correct it. Make you see what is worse than him when there is no love to give.

#yandere #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere anime #nova writes

[absurdthirst]

Cellblock Tango {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.6k

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, hangovers, drunk tank, flirting, mismatched power dynamics, jail cell sex, rough sex, fingering, hand cuffs, derogatory language, role play, unprotected sex, miscommunication, Dad Marcus deserves his own warning, father/son bonding, there was only one hotel room, break ups, angst, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), love making, mentions of future children.

Comments: One little interlude leads to a surprising discovery eleven years later, Marcus Pike has a son. You are the woman he fucked in a jail cell when he was a cop and now, you're the mother of his child.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Pike.” Marcus answers his phone as he tries to finish this report and he half listens until he hears the words “art stolen” and then he’s listening to the call and he nods, stopping typing. “I’ll be right there.” He promises and hangs up, grabbing his jacket. 

He is quick to drive over to the gallery and he flashes his badge when the police ask who he is. He ducks under the tape and makes his way into the gallery where glass is shattered on the floor and several employees are clearly shaken. “Hi, I’m Marcus Pike, FBI.” He introduces himself, “who’s the curator?” He asks and you step forward.

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent Pike.” You smile and Marcus frowns, trying to place your face until it hits him.

 **Eleven Years Ago** 

“Let me outtt.” You whine, slapping the bars of the cell you’re in, your head aching and you look at the officer on duty sitting at his desk. 

“You can’t come out until you sober up.” He says and you squint as you look at his badge. 

“I’m sober…ish.” You bite your lip and he shakes his head, “drunk and disorderly behavior…not great for your record.” He says and you scoff, “I’m a senior in college. Art history. I am graduating this weekend. I- I just wanted to celebrate.” You whine, resting your head on the cool bars and you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in this cell.

Marcus shakes his head and has to admit that you look cute for a criminal. You won’t be charged, you aren’t even booked in right now, taking mercy on you, although he hopes that you understand that you need to curb bad habits before it does get you into trouble. “You’ll be there until you can tell me your telephone number backwards.” He tells you with a grin, looking up from his paperwork. Marcus is known as a by-the-book cop and even though he’s still green, he’s going places. His application to the FBI should be accepted any day and he wants to make an impact on the world and community. 

You whine, slumping down on the bench in the cell and soon enough, you’re falling asleep. You wake up a couple of hours later with a headache and Marcus hands you a cup of water and some aspirin. “Here.” He says and you open the bottle, taking a couple and downing the water. He refills it for you and you sigh, feeling sober and worse for wear. 

“Got any good hangover tips?” You ask the cop who chuckles and you finally notice how handsome he is. His brown eyes are tired looking as he nears the end of his shift and you tilt your head against the wall.

“Nothing that would be appropriate for a jail cell.” He jokes, happy that you seem to be sober now. You had been a little rough there for awhile and it seems like though you have a hangover, you’ve learned your lesson.

“I guess pancakes and bacon is a no go in a cell.” You chuckle and look over as Marcus stands up. “You got any mints?” You ask and Marcus nods, reaching into his desk drawer and he hands you the box of altoids. You chew a few and sigh, “thanks.” Handing him back the tin, your fingers brush and you notice again how handsome he is. “I bet you’re ready to head home to your partner after dealing with drunk me tonight?” You ask with a smirk, knowing you were a handful.

Marcus snorts and shakes his head. “No partner.” He admits, shrugging sadly. “Ex-wife didn’t want to be a LEO wife.” It had stung but he understood it. He would rather end it amicably than turn nasty after kids. “And you were pretty cute drunk.” He admits with a grin.

You giggle, loving how kind he’s been despite being locked up. “At least I have that going for me.” You wink at him and he leans against the bars. “Your ex wife is an idiot to have let you go. You’re handsome and funny and you have a good job.” You flirt, leaning towards the bars. “I’d wait for you allll night baby.”

“Yeah?” Marcus smirks, enjoying the banter even though you’re probably just trying to get out of being charged. He had no intention of charging you, but it’s a harmless little indulgence. “I think you’re just hoping I’d use my handcuffs on you.”

“Ooo don’t tempt me with a good time, officer.” You wink, “I like a man who knows how to take control.” You reveal with a smirk and you playfully hold your hands up. “Arrest me again, officer.” 

He chuckles and your stomach twists, “for what crimes?” He teases and you grin, “for lusting after a man in uniform.”

There is nothing that Marcus finds sexier than a confident woman and you are not simply flirting with him because you are behind bars. Or if you are, it’s because you find it sexy. The spark of desire in your eyes makes him bolder, pushing off the edge of his desk to come and prop against the bars with a smirk on his face. “Yeah?” He asks, lifting a brow. “What would you do then? Fight me?” He asks. “Or what would you let me do? Right there in the cell?” He’s dangerously close to inappropriate behavior but he doesn’t think that you mind it. 

You look up at him from under your lashes, wrists still outstretched when you say “anything you want.” You promise and he inhales sharply, “I wouldn’t fight you. I’d fuck you. I’ve been a bad girl, officer, and I need some punishment.” You pout playfully and lower your hands, lifting your dress a little higher to expose your panties.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus’ eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious?” He asks, looking around and then back at you. “You really want that?”

You nod, feeling bold at the look in his eyes and you reach through the bars to play with his badge. “Officer Pike. Do you want to fuck me?” You ask, licking your lips.

“Yes, I do.” His cock twitches and starts to harden in his uniform and he reaches for the cell keys. “Are you sure?” He asks. “You can say no at any time.” He reassures you. “I- don’t want you to feel like this is to get out of being charged. You’re being released no matter what.”

You nod in understanding, watching him open the door, and you watch him stride in. “I know. I - I don’t usually do this but you’re - you’re so sexy. I want you.” You confess. You’ve been sensible your entire life. Focusing on getting your degree, you didn’t even go out for drinks most weekends and tonight, you want to celebrate. The officer steps closer to you and you reach out to take his hands, bringing them to your waist.

“Shit. I don’t either.” Marcus confesses, squeezing your waist and then he is whipping one hand behind his back as he twists you around. “Hands behind your back.” He growls, a thread of authority in his voice. “I’m going to cuff you.”

You gasp when you feel the cold metal encircle your wrists and your cunt clenches at the way he manhandles you. “I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t mean to be bad.” You play along, arching your back so you can grind against him and you’re pleased to feel how hard he is.

“Should have thought about that before you broke the law.” He grunts, twitching against your ass. “Gonna have to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” He never thought he would be a man who enjoyed roleplay, but he is very eager to see how you react.

He bends you over the bench in the cell and tugs your dress up over your hips, making you whimper and your nails dig into your palms. “I’m sorry, officer.” You gasp when his hand comes down on your ass after he sits down beside you, one hand gripping your cuffed wrists, the other slapping your ass hard enough to make you cry out in both pleasure and pain.

It’s a good damn thing that there’s no one else in the entire building at this hour. You are loud and he loves it. “Fuck. You like this, don’t you? You little slut.” He stops and strokes your ass gently. “Was that okay?” He asks, realizing you could take offense and wanting to check in.

You love that he’s asking you if it’s okay, breaking the roleplay, and you know he’s so sweet but also so dirty to be doing this. “It’s perfect. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You promise and he nods, rubbing your ass before he brings his hand down again. “I love it.” You moan, “I love it, officer.”

Marcus groans and he slaps your ass again before he slides his hand down your hip and drags your panties down. “Let’s see how much you love it.” He growls, his fingers seeking your cunt and loving how wet he finds you.

You moan loud when he finds your cunt, sliding his fingers through your folds until he is rubbing your clit. “Oh shit.” You pant, arms starting to ache but you don’t care. You want this, you want him. It’s cleared your head and you know you are no longer drunk on booze but rather drunk on his touch. “Yes. Yes. Fuck, that’s - I need more.” You beg greedily.

Marcus pulls his fingers away and he lets go of your arms so you collapse onto the bunk. Unzipping his uniform pants and pulling his cock out, he spits in his hand and pumps himself. “I’m clean.” He promises you. “Are you…on birth control?”

You nod, “I’m clean and on the pill.” You promise and he shifts to kneel on the bunk, straddling your thighs as he pumps his cock a couple of times. “Jesus.” He hisses as he lines up and starts to push inside of you. You whine and clench your fists, enjoying the stretch of him.

You’re so fucking tight he feels like he’s going to bust. Granted, it’s been awhile for him, but he’s clenching his jaw and enjoying the way you squeeze him. “Goddamn.” He grunts when his hips are flush against your ass.

You can’t open your eyes, mouth open in a silent cry as he stretches you and you are certain you are dreaming, this has to be a wet dream. When he starts to move, you moan out and try to spread your legs a little wider but he keeps you pinned down. “Fuck baby. Yes!” You finally cry out when his hips press against your ass with each thrust.

It’s probably the roughest, kinkiest sex Marcus has had in forever and he’s into it. Holding onto your cuffed wrists, he covers you, driving into you with increasingly rougher thrusts. “Think you can spread your legs and get out of trouble?” He growls in your ear. “Your tight little cunt your get out of jail free card?” He demands. “Whoring yourself out? I should book you, keep you here to fuck.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his words making you gush around him and he sets a harsh pace, “do it. Keep me - I - fuck. If you fuck me like this every day, I’m yours.” You moan, enjoying the way he pushes deep and his deep voice. It makes you shiver under him.

Marcus hisses when you clench around him and the keys on his belt around his hips jangle as he fucks into you. It’s a damn good thing he’s going home after this because you are soaking the front of his uniform. “You are mine.” He huffs, biting his lip and watching as his cock plows into your cunt. “Fuck, this is so hot.”

You moan your agreement, your voice echoing in the empty cell and his keys jangle a little faster as your nails dig into your palms. “Fuckkk. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me cum.” You whimper at the way he angles your hips and you cry out as you cum, clamping down on his cock.

Marcus moans, fucking you harder as you soak him with your cum. Desperate and unmeasured thrusts as he starts to feel his own orgasm building. “Shit- shit,” he whines. “So tight, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” He let’s go of your wrists to hold onto your hips and changes the angle to fuck down into you for the last half dozen thrusts before he’s grinding deep and painting your walls with his seed.

You pant, loving how he feels when he cums inside of you, and you close your eyes, savoring the feel of him inside of you. “Fuck that’s good, officer. Oh God.” You wish you could reach back and touch him. “That was so good.” You sigh and he hums in agreement as his forehead rests on your back. “Are you going to - are you going to let me go?” You ask playfully, eyes still closed as you smile.

"I shouldn't." Marcus plays along, his hand running soothingly up your spine as he catches his breath. He kisses your back and then sits up. "But I think I have to, with something this good." He chuckles, pulling out of you gently and admiring the way your cunt spasms and starts to push his cum out. He tucks himself away and pulls your panties up respectfully before he reaches for his keys. "No regrets?" He asks softly as he uncuffs you.

You let him uncuff you and you sit up, looking at him. “Baby, I couldn’t regret it.” You tell him with a wink, and you cup his cheek. “Thank you. Am I - on a serious note…am I being charged?” You ask timidly and lower your hand from his cheek.

“No.” He smiles, even though he is serious. “I had told you last night you were just being held until you could tell me your phone number backwards.” He chuckles. “You whined it out right before you fell asleep.” He hums. “So I can throw it away, or maybe… I can call you after my work week and maybe take you out on a date? Unless you want to get picked up again for drunken disorderly?” He teases. 

You fluster, nodding at him, “I, uh, I would like to see you again…showered and completely sober. Not that I’m not sober but you know what I mean…not - not recently arrested.” You chuckle and he smiles softly, his brown eyes sweet and soft, albeit tired. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You promise and he blushes a little, making you grin.

“Well then, I’ll call you.” He promises, reaching up and stroking your cheek gently. “Tonight was fun, but I know you want to get home and shower and I’m about to get off to go home and crash.” He admits. “Make sure to hydrate today, okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand when he lowers it from your cheek. “I’ll see you soon, officer.” You wink playfully and he nods at you. You are soon reunited with your things and call a taxi to take you home. You collapse on the bed as soon as you get home and fall asleep, the exhaustion getting to you. You’ll wait for the officer to call and you dream of brown eyes and handcuffs.

**Present Day**

Marcus squeezes your hand and his face flushes hotly, remembering every moment of his time with you. Your name comes off his lips quietly and he wishes that you were meeting under less public circumstances. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.” He segways lamely. “I tried to call you.” He blurts out. “The number you gave me was wrong. And I finally figured out what the real number was about a year later. By then I figured you had forgotten about Officer Pike.” 

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe that you are seeing him right now. You clear your throat, glancing around to his colleagues and yours and you offer him a soft smile, “don’t - it’s okay. I understand. I just figured you changed your mind.” You shrug like it’s no big deal and he frowns but you stop him before he can respond, “do you want me to show you where the piece was that got stolen?”

Marcus snaps back into a more professional mode and nods seriously, reaching into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a notebook and a pen. He likes to jot down his first impression of the scene while he’s there. “When did you notice the piece was missing?” He’s aware that you gave your statement to the local police but he wants to hear it straight from you. Unable to believe that the drunk tank encounter eleven years ago had turned into his victim on his latest case.

“This morning. I came into work as I always do at 8:40. I walked around to check everything was clean and in place and then of course I saw this piece was missing. I checked the security cameras but it’s been interfered with as it’s all fuzzy. I called the police right away, didn’t touch anything else, and they sent you over.” You tell him as you walk towards the area of the missing artwork, trying to conceal the way your hands shake from seeing him again after all these years.

Marcus nods, jotting down notes and he looks over the scene carefully. “When did the museum close last night? Are there any night shift personnel that clean or maybe a guard?” He wants to make sure that he does everything right and he can’t help but be a little flustered by you. He looks over at you and sees you shaking. “It’s okay.” He shoves the pen and the notebook into one hand and pats your shoulder soothingly. “I know that being robbed is a terrible violation but we are going to do our best to recover your painting.”

“There’s a night guard but he was sick and - he admitted to me he fell asleep for a couple of hours during his shift.” He mistakes your shaking for fear and you play into it, nodding and smiling in appreciation of him helping you with this situation. He’s the last person you ever imagined would be helping you find the art, especially after he never called and you had no way of getting hold of him. “Thank you.” You smile and he continues to assess the crime scene. Forensics comes in and you spend your work day with Marcus and his team working on finding the missing painting.

Marcus is delighted to find that the younger woman he had a brief liaison with has become a smart and capable woman. You are thoroughly knowledgeable about the museum you run and the staff. Even the maintenance schedules are quickly located and accounted for. You seemingly run a tight ship. “Okay. Have there been any visitors who have been unusually interested in the security? Asking questions pointed around the room that the painting was in?” He asks, wondering if there’s another possible angle to this.

You bite your lip, pondering the question before you turn towards Jenny, the new receptionist. “Didn’t you say we had a man come in and he was asking several questions about different pieces and you thought it was weird because he kept looking at the cameras?” You ask and Jenny nods. Marcus asks her to describe him and Jenny tries her best. While Marcus is writing down her description, you admire his profile, the way he’s matured into a handsome man and you remember the way he fucked you.

“If possible, can we see if the camera footage is still available from the days he visited?” A photo of the suspect is worth more than a description, but he hopes that the entire hard drive hasn’t been compromised. He looks up at you. “Do you know how far back the data has been corrupted?”

You nod, “about seven days. It’s spotty in the past 36 hours but it’s solid up until then. I’m not sure if they used some kind of tech to fuzz the cameras but it’s spotty at best.” You explain and look over at Jenny, “can you show office- Agent Pike to the security room?”

Marcus catches the slip up and his cock twitches, but he ignores it. He can’t go there with you. He’s in a relationship. Instead, he smiles and nods, thanking you quietly and following Jenny to the office so he can watch the videos with her to the approximate time the suspect was there.

You watch Marcus leave with Jenny and you check your watch, biting your lip. It’s getting close to four and you glance at your phone, wondering if you should call. No…Marcus will be gone by then. You keep glancing at your watch and finally Marcus appears, notebook in hand just as the door to the gallery opens. “Mom! Mom! Guess what happened? I made the team!” Theo announces as he runs into the gallery and over to you, your mom behind him carrying his backpack.

Halfway between the door to the security office and you, Marcus freezes. His eyes widen and he feels like he’s been kicked in the chest and he swears his heart stops. The boy, he’s guessing around ten years old, looks like he could be a copy of Marcus when he was a boy. Skin tone is different and there are small features that are a unique blend of your features, but he looks like him. There is absolutely no way that this child, this boy, isn’t his. His mouth drops open and he nearly chokes on his own breath.

You ignore Marcus, avoiding his eyes as you look down at your son. “Really? That’s amazing, baby.” You hug him, kissing his hair. He’d been so excited to try out for the baseball team and now he’s on it. You know it’s gonna be a lot of work to take him to practices and games but you don’t care, you want him to be happy. Your mom looks over at Marcus and back at you, her eyes wide. She sees the resemblance immediately and you told her about Marcus when you found out you were pregnant.

He can’t move, trying to process what the hell possibly happened and he’s immediately flooded with intense guilt. He had gotten you pregnant. He had gotten you pregnant and he didn’t call you. You didn’t have any way to get into contact with him and you had been a single mother for ten years. He knew you weren’t married, or at least he thought you weren’t. There’s not a ring on your finger, but you might have a boyfriend. He watches the boy, his son, closely. Absorbing every detail of his mannerisms and excitement as he talks about his obvious passion - baseball. The same sport Marcus had played in school. 

You glance at Marcus finally, seeing his eyes, and you know he has figured it out. You swallow harshly and look at your mom who has questioning eyes. “Can you take Theo for a snack, mama?” You ask your mom who nods. 

“You wanna go to the place on the corner for a snack, honey?” She asks Theo who nods, “can we, mom?” He asks and you smile, ruffling his hair, “of course.” Your mom takes him outside and you inhale deeply, turning to face Marcus. “We need to talk.” You tell him, “you wanna come sit in my office?”

He nods, not even able to put anything into words and follows you to the back. Your office is across from the security office and is neat. It’s obviously filled with personal touches. There’s a picture that is obviously from last Christmas of the two of you. Theo beaming as he holds a new baseball glove and bat. “I- does he- what’s his name?” He asks, once the door is closed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You can see he’s struggling but you’re hurt too. He didn’t call and when you found out you were pregnant, you were newly graduated and alone. Your mom helped, letting you move in with her and it’s been hard to get your career where you dreamed it would be all those years ago. “His name is Theo Lucas. He has my last name…obviously. It’s - you didn’t call and I thought that you - that you just asked me out to save face for a quickie in a jail cell.” You cross your arms and turn towards the closed door, “he’s - he’s the best thing that ever happened to me so I guess I should thank you for that night.”

“I want to meet him. Officially.” Marcus clarifies. “I didn’t know that he was - that you were pregnant. If I had I would have helped you, supported you, been there for both of you. “Please?” 

You bite your lip, watching him with hesitation. What’s to say he won’t just take off again after Theo has gotten attached. You’re not sure if it’s sensible or really the actual reason why but the words “of course” escape your mouth before you can think about his. His answering soft smile makes your heart ache a little and you clear your throat. “I’ll give you my cell phone, proper numbers this time as we can talk.”

Marcus chuckles and reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his badge folder. Pulling a card with his information on it and handing it to you. “This way the ball is in your court.” He offers. “Theo likes baseball?” He asks. “I used to play in high school and college when I wasn’t playing with my band.” He tells you. “Maybe I can practice with him or take him to a game? I planned on seeing the Rangers play this weekend.”

You bite your lip, looking down at his card. “I bet he’d love that.” You smile at Marcus and are terrified but excited for your son to meet his father finally. You’ve imagined it so many times and he has asked about his dad. You tried to explain it as simply as you can to a young child and you told him you and his dad had a brief relationship. It sounded better than what the reality is. “It’s good to see you again, Marcus.” You say just as his phone rings.

“Shit.” He jolts and reaches for his phone, glancing down at it and then giving you an apologetic look. “Hey.” He answers, a smile on his face when he speaks. “Are you finishing up for the day?” He asks, “I’m still working on a case.” Listening for a few moments he hums. “I’ll meet you there, okay. Sounds good. Bye.”

You see the look on his face and you know it’s his romantic partner. The look in his eyes is soft and sweet and it makes your heart twist even though he’s not yours, he never was. You just had one night. You wait for him to finish and he smiles at you after he shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry about that.” He says and you shake your head, “it’s fine.” He clears his throat, “so I’ll see you soon. For the case and for Theo. I will wait for your call.” He promises and you nod, twisting the card in your hand. 

“I’ll see you soon, Marcus.” You promise and he gathers his things, bidding you goodbye and you sit down at your desk and close your eyes, hating how your heart twists at seeing him again.

Marcus makes his way out of the museum and when he gets into the car, he just sits for a moment. Absorbing the life changing information that he is a father. He wants to jump in and help and support you in any and every way he can. Feeling guilty for not knowing about Theo sooner. He knows he has to tell Teresa as soon as possible. Tonight at dinner. She will understand.

****

“You met my dad?” Theo asks when you discuss it at dinner. 

“Yes baby. He’s - he - we lost touch and now he’s back. I got his number. He wants to meet you. He loves baseball too and said about taking you to a game. I- I know it’s a lot to take in but he wants to get to know you.” You tell Theo who frowns, looking down at his plate. 

“Why now?” Theo asks and you clear your throat, “I told you…we lost touch.” You explain and Theo shakes his head, “he didn’t want me?” He asks and you reach for his hand. 

“No. No. Not that. It’s complicated. Adult stuff you won’t understand.” You try again but Theo is pushing his chair back and rushing to his room, “you didn’t want me to know him!” He yells and slams the door, making you close your eyes and rub your head.

****

“I have something I need to tell you.” Marcus gazes at Teresa nervously over the votive in the middle of the romantic table at their favorite restaurant. He’s already had two glasses of wine because he’s excited and nervous. Reaching out, he takes her hand. “Eleven years ago, I had a….fling.” He isn’t going to give all the specifics, but Teresa deserves to know. “It was right before the FBI academy and somehow, the phone number I was given was bad, so it didn’t go beyond the one encounter.” 

Teresa tilts her head and laughs. “Marcus, I don’t need to know about every person you slept with. We both have a history.” She assures him. 

Marcus shakes his head. “No, I ran into her today. And….” He takes a deep breath. “I have a son. He’s just like me. I saw him and I-“ he shrugs. “I’m going to get to know him, become a part of his life.”

Teresa stares at Marcus in shock, looking down at their hands, and she swallows harshly. “How - you - um, that’s - wow.” She finishes lamely, still in shock. “That’s great, Marcus. Truly. That’s - I can’t wait to meet him.” She says, a little through her teeth but Marcus doesn’t notice as he beams, squeezing her hand. 

****

You call Marcus the next day due to Theo constantly asking you when he’s going to meet his dad. “Are you free this evening?” You ask and Marcus holds the phone in his hand, “of course. I’m free.” 

You smile, “great. You want to come over for dinner? Theo is excited to meet you. I told him we had a fling and tried to explain it as much as I could without getting into details.”

Marcus hums in agreement, “he doesn’t need to know the details, I don’t think a child would understand that yet.” He will follow your lead on Theo since you have been the one raising him. “Does he have a particular favorite baseball team?” Marcus asks. “I don’t want to come empty handed the first time I meet my son.”

You smile against the phone at how sweet he is. You remember that from that night, how funny and sweet he was even when he was wrecking you with his cock. “He loves the Nationals. My dad…he lives in D.C and has gotten Theo into his team, so yeah, Nationals.” You answer and Marcus hums, “Nationals, got it.” 

You nod even though he can’t see it, “so I’ll see you at 6?” You ask and he confirms. “Great. I’ll text you my address.” You say and bid him goodbye, hanging up the phone to quickly shoot him a text. You’re nervous and you know Theo is nervous, unsure of going to school today but you took him and he was fine once he settled in. You’ve got the day at work to figure out what to cook for the first time your one night stand meets his son.

During lunch, Marcus runs out to a sporting goods store to pick up Nationals gear for a ten year old. Then back to his apartment to pick up his own glove and some balls. If you’ve got a yard, he wants to get out there and throw the ball with Theo if he’s up for it. Your text comes through with the address and by 5, he’s leaving the office and plugging in the GPS to go to your house.

You smile as Theo rushes up to the front door when Marcus rings the doorbell. “I’ll get the door, sweetie.” You say, rubbing his shoulder and he’s practically buzzing as he watches you open the door. You send a silent prayer that this is gonna go well and you come face to face with Marcus, standing there holding a big duffel bag. “Come in.” You gesture and he steps in, clearly nervous, and his dark eyes find Theo. “Sweetheart, this is - this is Marcus. He’s your dad.” You introduce him officially and Theo looks at Marcus with wide eyes.

Marcus sets the bag down and kneels down so he can look his son in the eyes. The same shade of brown as his own. “Hello, Theo.” He offers quietly, beaming and trying not to cry. “It is so good to meet you. I brought my glove. If it's okay with your mom, after dinner we can throw the ball around?” He asks, glancing up at you for permission before looking back at him to see if that’s something he wants to do.

Theo beams, staring at his father, and he nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Mom - can we - can we go outside?” He asks you and you nod, “of course you can.” Theo surges forward to wrap his arms around his father, “hi dad.” He says into his father’s neck as he grips him tight, excited to have him there.

His eyes close and his arms wrap around Theo tight, holding his son against him. “Hey, buddy.” He chokes out, opening his eyes and looking up at you. He’s overwhelmed and emotional and it’s almost a relief that you are silently crying. He’s not being too much with his reaction to meeting the son he didn’t know about.

You wipe your eyes, seeing the unshed tears shining in Marcus’s eyes and you know in that moment that you haven’t made a mistake. You know Theo is going to have his father in his life finally. “Come on you two. Dinner will be ready soon. Marcus, what do you want to drink?” You ask after clearing your throat.

“Anything would be great, thanks.” He squeezes Theo once more before he pulls away to grin at him. “I brought you some presents. Although I know I have a lot of missed birthdays and Christmas’ to make up for.”

Theo grins, “lots. Ten years worth.” He says and you chuckle, “dad is here now and he brought you some presents. You wanna open them while I finish up dinner?” You ask Theo who nods and grabs Marcus’s hand to practically drag him into the kitchen. 

“Come on dad, I wanna open my presents.”

It’s surreal to hear someone calling him dad and it makes him break out into a wide grin. He had managed to grab the duffel bag and he sets it on the table to open up and start pulling out gifts. He had thought he had gone overboard, but he doesn’t believe that now, the way Theo’s eyes are widening and he’s practically bouncing with excitement.

You get Marcus a beer and a glass of wine for yourself then set them down after getting a glass of milk for Theo. “Wow! I always wanted one of these!” Theo gasps when he sees the Nationals jersey and you feel a little guilty that you didn’t get the right one that he wanted. You got the Rangers and he was happy, but it’s not his favorite team.

“I’m glad. Your mom told me that you’re a big Nationals fan.” Marcus chatters nervously. “Now I have tickets to the Ranger’s game this weekend, would you want to go? Even if it’s not the Nationals? Since we are here in Texas?” It’s a commute to Ranger stadium and he would buy you a ticket if you preferred to come too, but he wants to give Theo that experience together.

You watch Theo bounce, nodding his head, “yes yes yes. Oh can I go mom? Can I?” He asks you and you nod, “of course baby. You can go.” You won’t deny him this time with his father and you know Marcus is a good man. He works for the FBI for goodness sake. “I’ll go get dinner. Sit down, both of you.” You order playfully.

“We better listen to your mom.” Marcus grins, happy that his son wants to go to a game with him. He reaches up and ruffles the boy's hair. “Let’s go wash our hands, gotta be clean to eat.”

You watch Marcus take Theo to wash his hands and you smile to yourself as you plate up the spaghetti and meatballs. The boys sit down at the table and you set the plates down in front of them. “I hope you like it. I didn’t ask if you were vegetarian. Oh shit. Are you? If not, I can make something else.” You start to panic a little, realizing how little you know about Marcus.

“No.” He smiles up at your reassuringly. “I love spaghetti and meatballs.” He looks over at Theo. “And I’m sure your mom’s is great, isn’t it, Buddy?” He asks. 

“Oh yeah! Mom’s spaghetti is the best!” Theo cries out with a grin. “She puts extra cheese on top for me.”

You smile, loving that your son loves your cooking. You look at Marcus, “I put extra cheese on yours too.” You wink at him and watch Theo as he starts to dig into his food, hungry as always, “why don’t you tell your dad about school today?” You ask Theo, wanting Marcus to be involved in the small things like hearing Theo talk about his day.

Marcus listens intently, nodding while Theo tells him every little thing about his day. Grinning to himself when the boy would go off on a little tangent like he used to as he shovels in his food with the enthusiasm of a growing boy.

You finish eating while Theo talks about his school and his friends. You watch Marcus hang onto every word, nodding and responding like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard and that makes your heart thump. “Everyone done?” You ask and Theo nods, “thank you, mom.” He stands up to collect the dishes but you stop him. “Not tonight, honey. Sit with your dad. I’ll clean up.” You tell him as you gather the plates, “I have dessert too. You want ice cream?” You ask and Theo nods, eyes lighting up.

“Must be a special night.” Marcus muses. “Dessert too?” He grins when Theo bobbles his head so hard he might rattle some teeth around. “After we eat dessert, you wanna throw the ball?”

Theo thinks that Christmas has come as he nods and Marcus chuckles, “sure thing, bud.” You smile as you load up the dishwasher and listen to Marcus and Theo talk. “So why did you not stay with my mom?” Theo asks, always inquisitive and you wince slightly but leave it to Marcus to provide his own explanation.

Glancing up at you for permission, he knows he needs to tell his son why the two of you aren’t together. Why he’s never met him before. “I- it’s complicated.” Marcus winces, knowing that isn’t the best answer. “Your mom was wonderful. And I had plans to take her on a date, to spend more time with her, but I messed up.” Marcus stresses. He will take the blame, of course he will. “I wrote her number down wrong, and couldn’t call her. And I didn’t know where she lived.”

Theo stares at Marcus for a moment, absorbing his answer until eventually he nods and looks over at you. “Well, you’re dumb because my mom is amazing.” Your heart clenches and tears sting in your eyes at the compliment from your son and you look at Marcus with an apologetic smile.

“I know I am.” Marcus accepts that rebuke and nods in agreement. “Your mom is amazing and I have to thank her because she gave me a son.” He reaches over and pats your hand. “Thank you. For taking care of him while I wasn’t around and being amazing enough for him to defend you.”

You smile at Marcus and lean in to kiss Theo on the head as you slide the bowl of ice cream towards him. “Okay. Let’s eat some ice cream.” You declare, trying to lighten the mood and give yourself a moment as you hand Marcus his own bowl. “Toppings are yours to pick. We have chocolate sauce, whipped cream, nuts, and strawberries.” You say and Theo begins to put a river of chocolate sauce in his sundae. “Maybe we have enough sauce to go with the ice cream, huh baby?” You tease and he chuckles, setting the sauce bottle down.

“He’s a man with taste.” Marcus chuckles, amazed that he is sitting down and eating dessert with his son. “I love chocolate syrup too.” He admits, taking the bottle and turning it up over his ice cream. The little boy beams happily, loving that his dad likes the same things he does. It’s almost a family moment and he feels guilty that Teresa isn’t here to see it. “What else do you like? Whipped cream and a cherry? Or strawberries?” He asks, wanting to know everything about Theo.

“Whipped cream, for sure. And nuts.” Theo answers and reaches for a spoonful of nuts. You watch him and Marcus chuckles, “same. I do like strawberries but not on ice cream.” He says and Theo nods. You reach for the strawberries, “those are for me. I love strawberries.” Marcus nods and you watch him as he takes the spoon from Theo to cover his sundae with nuts. The ice cream goes down well and you’re soon putting the dishwasher on while Marcus and Theo go outside to play catch.

Outside, Marcus feels like he is living every ‘dad dream’ he’s ever had. It started with small tosses of the ball to warm up and he started asking questions. Theo’s likes, dislikes. His dreams. Favorite movies. Learning about the boy and hopefully bonding with him. They play until you come back outside as the sun starts to go down.

Marcus sits in the living room while Theo showers and gets ready for bed. He’s already done his homework and you get him in bed. “You want your dad to come and say goodnight?” You ask Theo after you kiss his forehead. 

“Yes, please mama.” He murmurs and you nod, standing up and walking into the living room where Marcus is sitting. “He wants you to say goodnight.” You tell him and he stands up, rubbing his hands on his pants.

Marcus goes down the hall and hovers in the doorway for a moment, taking in the bedroom and smiling when he sees baseball posters on the wall. It could be a bedroom from his own childhood. “You all ready for bed, buddy?” He asks, coming and sitting on the edge and nervously rubbing the covers on the edge. .

“No.” Theo says and you smile as you lean against the wall in the hallway. 

“I know, I’m never tired after a big day.” Marcus smiles and pats the bed sheets. 

Theo nods, settling down against his pillow, “after you fight the bad guys?” He asks his father with a sleepy smile.

Marcus reaches up and brushes Theo’s hair gently. “After I fight the bad guys.” Marcus nods and smiles down at his son. “Goodnight Theo.” He murmurs softly, amused that despite being so adamant about not being tired, he’s already starting to fall asleep. Marcus sits with him until he’s completely gone and then watches him, amazed that he is here with a child who is his.

You push off of the wall as Marcus walks into the hallway and you smile at him, at seeing the way his eyes are soft and glassy. You reach out to pat his arm, “you want another beer? Or coffee before you go? We need to talk about how we move forward.”

“Sure.” Marcus nods and follows you back out to the living room and into the kitchen. “He’s a great kid.” He gushes after a moment. Standing around, he wonders where to go from here. “I owe you a lot of child support.” He blurts out, reaching into his pocket for a check he had written. “Obviously it’s not ten years worth, but I want to start making up for not being here.”

Your eyes widen at the amount of the check. “Marcus. No- it wasn’t - you didn’t know. I can’t accept this. You didn’t know about him. You didn’t dodge it and I’ve done well. My parents helped. Please…this is way too much.” You shake your head, knowing you could never accept his money when you had ten years with your son and he’s missed out on so much.

“Put it in a college fund for him.” Marcus shakes his head when you hold the check back out to him. “Please. I might not have known about him, but I know now. If I had known then, he would have had a college fund started from the day you told me.”

You can’t deny him that, knowing that your funds for his college are a little low after you have been working hard but it’s not enough, never enough. “Marcus. It’s - I’ll put it in the bank account I have ready for his college fund.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you.”

Marcus hugs you back, there’s nothing wrong with hugging the mother of his child. This is the woman who gave him the little boy in that bedroom. He tries not to remember how good touching you had felt all those years ago. That was past, and he is involved with Teresa now. “You’re welcome.” He murmurs sincerely. “I’ll give you more. I promise.”

You step back, patting his chest, “you’re just - I’m glad you’re in Theo’s life.” You step away and you make your way to the kitchen followed by Marcus. “Take a seat and I’ll get you a beer then we can talk details.” You watch him head into the living room and you grab two beers, making your way into the living room and you sit down on the sofa beside him. “So, uh, we didn’t exactly discuss our - our situations in life. I don’t have a husband or even a boyfriend. It’s been tough dating with a young son and I’ve been focused on work and Theo. I just wanted you to know that.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus winces and shakes his head. “You didn’t deserve to be left with the responsibility by yourself.” He won’t let go of the guilt easily. “Maybe with some help, you can have some time for yourself.” He won’t say ‘date’, but that’s your decision. “I- I am in a relationship. Another agent.” He confesses, feeling guilty again.

You hate how your heart clenches at the news but you know he was never yours. “That’s great. I- I can’t wait to meet them one day. Did you tell them about Theo?” You ask, and Marcus nods, “she knows. Her name is Teresa.” He says with a smile that makes you want to cry a little. He’s such a lovely guy and he belongs to Teresa. 

You know you can’t be an idiot, you have a child together that he’s just met. You need to be sensible. “So I want you to see him. We can work out a custody schedule in a few months I’d say once Theo is comfortable and I am. I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping him from you but I need him to be safe and secure and happy.”

Marcus holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Absolutely.” He agrees. “Theo has been your priority for ten years, eleven really.” He reasons. “You are his mother and I would never try to come in and immediately change everything. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to the game too?” He asks. “Since it’s a few hours away? He can say that he wants to go and then get nervous because I am essentially a stranger to him. Plus, I can see how you parent, because I want to work with you on raising him.”

You appreciate how accommodating he’s being, not demanding more when he hasn’t been here at all even though it’s technically not his fault. He’s missed out on so much but he’s still wanting to include you. That makes you warm to him even more and you nod, “I think that’s a great idea. Let's all get to know each other more. We didn’t exactly have an in-depth conversation before we had sex.” You fluster and reach for your beer to take a sip, “do you want to ask Teresa if she wants to come too?” You add, hoping he says no but she’s going to be part of Theo’s life and you need to assess her.

“She has a case that she’s working on.” Marcus frowns slightly and shrugs. “She’s going to have to be on a stakeout or something.” He had originally been going to go with her, and then he had considered selling the tickets when her plans had fallen through, but this is perfect. “What do you want to know about me?” He asks.

You are relieved that Teresa isn’t coming on this first adventure and you lean back against the sofa, tucking your leg up beneath you. “First of all…I didn’t - Theo is fine but do you have any medical family history? I know mine of course but I want to know in case there’s something I need to look out for.”

“Nothing really.” Marcus shakes his head and takes a sip of his own beer. “Grandfather died of a heart attack, but he was 87.” He shrugs slightly. “I can’t say that’s a short life. Parents are pretty healthy. I haven’t told them yet, but I know they will want to meet Theo, get to know him. When you’re comfortable.”

“I’d like that. Theo would love that. I have always felt so guilty that he hasn’t had a lot of family.” You confess, taking another sip of your beer, tears stinging in your eyes as you think about all the things Theo has missed out on with his father. 

“You okay?” Marcus asks and you shake your head, a few tears escaping. 

“I just wish - I wish I had given you the right number.”

“It’s my fault.” Marcus will readily admit that. “I should have double checked with you before you left. I had been trying not to seem too desperate, or creepy.” He shoots you a sardonic grin. “Since we had just had sex in a jail cell after you were picked up.”

You chuckle, wiping away your tears, “that was sexy as hell though. I still think about that night sometimes.” You admit until you realize what you said, “I’m sorry. I- you have Teresa and I’m not asking you to - shit. Have I made it weird?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He shakes his head and hums with a small smile. “It’s okay. I promise. I’ve thought about it before.” He admits. “It was sexy.” He doesn’t really think about it now that he’s with Teresa, but when he was single, it was one of his go-to memories when he wasn’t in the mood to look at porn. 

You chuckle, “it was.” You nudge him and move to set your beer down. “I guess we go from here. I’ll see you Saturday for the game. Are you gonna come back to the gallery or is your team working on tracking down that guy first?” You ask, curious as to what’s going to happen with the stolen painting.

“They are working on tracking down the suspect, but I normally come check in every day, every other day.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “The worst thing for the victim is to feel like they are just bogged down in the system. Especially when dealing with art. It’s normally personal or professional so everyone is eager to know that it’s being taken seriously.”

You nod, “then I’ll see you in the gallery.” You shift to stand up, “I’m sure Teresa is expecting you to be home soon. Theo will be out like a light. Do you want some water for the ride home?” You ask, looking down at him.

“Oh, Teresa and I don’t live together.” It wasn’t for lack of planning but it hadn’t happened yet. Just wasn’t quite to that place in the relationship yet even though a lot of nights were spent together. “But I will take a water.” He agrees.

You walk over to the fridge to get him a bottle of water, admiring his profile as he gathers his things. “Here you go.” You hand him the bottle and your fingers brush his. “I’ll see you soon. Maybe…if you don’t see Theo, we can do daily calls? You can talk to him.”

“I’d really like that.” Marcus quickly agrees, happy that you are so willing to let him spend time with Theo and get to know him. “Thank you.” He murmurs as you walk with him to the door. “He’s a great kid and that is all because of you. I hate that you had to do it alone but you’ve done a fantastic job.” Mother’s Day will have to come early for you and he will have to make sure that it’s amazing to make up for the ones that he missed.

You fluster at his kind words, excited to see how this goes, and you are happy for Theo to have his father in his life. You know it’s been a missing piece. No matter how hard you try to cover both positions, you know he’s been jealous of the other boys going to baseball games with their fathers or going out with the father-son groups. It’s been hard and you try to compensate but it’s impossible.

Marcus pauses at the door, turning around and smiling at you. You had been gorgeous eleven years ago, hungover and obviously partying, but now you are even more beautiful. Maybe it’s because he had a child with you, but there’s a softness that he admires for a moment. He murmurs your name, “have a good night. Call me if you need anything, okay? I want to help anyway I can.”

You nod, crossing your arms as you lean against the doorway, watching him as he makes his way to his car. You bite your lip, admiring his broad shoulders, and you know you have to stop. You will not ruin your son’s relationship with his father because you haven’t had sex in a while. You watch Marcus, waving as he pulls away, and you shut the door, closing your eyes. “It’s gonna be fine.” You murmur to yourself, deciding to get ready for bed and watch your show to distract yourself.

On the way home, Marcus contemplates calling Teresa, but he doesn’t. Instead he thinks about the situation, knowing that he will have to tell his parents soon, and they will want to meet him. He knows they will have questions so he wants to talk to you about what to tell them.

**** 

“You having a good time?” You ask Theo as he takes a big bite of the hot dog Marcus got him. The game is in full swing and you love how Marcus and Theo are bonding over their mutual love of baseball. You take a few photos, certain that Marcus will want them, and you think about the past few days. You and Marcus established when Theo will meet his parents and the story you’ll tell them is the truth. Although it’s awkward, keeping secrets never helps anyone. You watch the father and son and feel emotional, wishing once again that Marcus had called you after that fateful night.

“Oh man!” Theo cheers when the home run cracks off the bat and he leaps out of his seat to watch it go flying over the left field fence. Marcus grins and looks over at you, emotional at how much he is enjoying this. Almost upset that there isn’t a team in Austin so this could become a weekly thing. He’d say that season tickets could be done. 

“Looks like extra innings.” He teases, playing with Theo’s cap. “You aren’t gonna wanna miss that, are you?”

Theo shakes his head so hard his neck nearly breaks, “no, dad! Of course not!” He scoffs and you hide your grin behind your hand. You watch Marcus point out various players to Theo and they discuss the stats, both clearly knowledgeable and passionate about the sport and it’s making your heart nearly burst with joy.

Marcus grins as he leans back, looking at you behind Theo’s head. “If it goes too late, do you want to spend the night?” He asks, thinking about getting a hotel depending on how many hours it goes over a normal game. “I’ll cover the cost. Two rooms.” He offers, knowing it’s not right to stay in one room.

“Please mom! Please!” Theo begs, looking up at you with wide eyes and you nod, “okay baby. Okay. We can do that if it runs too late. I, uh, I don’t really have anything. We can stop at CVS to get a tooth brush and toiletries.” You say, unable to take away from this experience for Theo. “Are you sure Teresa won’t mind?”

“She’ll be alright.” He’s already texted her and let her know that it might be a possibility. She had said ‘okay’, so he knew she was alright with it. Teresa tends to speak her mind so he trusts her. “We can stop by a store and get some things.”

Finally the game ends and it’s late, way past Theo’s bed time and you can see he’s tired from the constant yawns but he’s fighting it. “Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?” You ask, hugging Theo as you approach Marcus’s car. “Maybe a hotel is the best idea.” You tell Marcus, running your hands through Theo’s hair.

“Yeah.” Marcus frowns slightly as he has spent the last twenty minutes of the game trying to book rooms. “There’s a hotel up the road I have a room booked for you guys.” He promises, turning towards his son and smiling at how sleepy Theo looks. “We’ll find a Wal-Mart and grab toothbrushes and PJs.”

“What about you?” You ask as you buckle Theo in and get in the front seat. Marcus bites his lip, not answering. “Marcus…” You raise your eyebrows, wanting him to answer you before you start to get frustrated. You’ve learned he’s a people pleaser and it’s to his own detriment sometimes.

“There’s….” He sighs and hangs his head. “There’s some kind of big conference this weekend.” He admits quietly. “Everywhere is sold out. I could only get the one room. It’s okay, though.” He assures you. “It’s a nice place and I can catch a few hours in the car. Not like I haven’t done that before.” He chuckles, making a joke about stakeouts.

"No. No. You - you are going to get some sleep. You've been driving and you are driving tomorrow. I- Theo will sleep between us. We can share the bed. We are parents sharing a bed with our son. You can't sleep in the car." You shake your head, whispering harshly as Theo is asleep.

Marcus frowns and shakes his head. “No, the room has two beds.” He reveals. “I just don’t think that you would want…you know that Theo might get the wrong impression.” He murmurs quietly, looking in the back seat and then towards you. He’s trying to be a gentleman and give you privacy. The only intimacy you’ve shared was the night you created Theo and he’s not going to assume you would be okay with sharing a room. 

You bite your lip, "two beds is perfect. I can share with Theo and you get to spread out in your own bed. He won't - we can explain that there was only one room left. He knows you are with Teresa...he wants to meet her."

“Are you sure?” He asks seriously, turning expressive eyes on you. He’s thrilled to learn that Theo wants to meet Teresa, because he wants her to get to know him, but he is talking about the hotel sleeping arrangement. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nod, chuckling softly. "I don't think you can make anyone uncomfortable, Marcus. You are the most caring man I can think of. We will be fine." You promise. You give Marcus a list of what you need and he goes into Walmart to get your list. You watch Theo sleep in the mirror and about ten minutes later, Marcus is pulling up at the hotel. You grab the bags after Marcus checks in and comes back out. "Can you carry Theo?"

“Of course I can.” Marcus beams as he opens the back door and starts to gently unbuckle the sleeping child and pull him out of the car. “He’s solid.” He grunts, grinning at you as Theo snuggles against his dads shoulder and grunts at being disturbed before settling back down into a limp mass of limbs.

You smile, watching Theo wrap his arms around his dad who carries him to the room. “Notice I didn’t offer.” You tease softly and pat Marcus on the shoulder as you take over finding the room. Once you’re inside, Marcus lays Theo down and you work on removing his clothes to dress him in the pajamas his dad had just bought for him. “Night, my love.” You murmur, kissing Theo’s head after you cover him up with the covers, the. you look over at Marcus who has removed his shoes and is watching you with apprehension. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Thanks for buying these.” You hold up the shorts and tank top, feeling a little awkward but it’s necessary for Theo to get some good sleep.

“It course.” He nods, feeling bad that he always carries an overnight bag in the car. “I’ll change quickly while you’re in there and then we’ll get some sleep.” He offers, trying not to think about the mechanics of all of this. This is just two parents sharing a room with their son.

You brush your teeth and wash your face, coming out of the bathroom in the tank top and shorts and you had told yourself in the mirror that this isn't a big deal. It's Marcus and Theo. You get under the covers on the side closest to the nightstand since Theo shifted in his sleep and you look over at Marcus. "Goodnight." You murmur, your eyes finding his in the lamplight.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” Marcus whispers softly, smiling at you as he reaches over to switch off the light. “Thank you for today. Letting Theo come to the game.” He shuffles and settles in the dark. “Might be the best day I’ve ever had.”

“Me too.” You answer honestly and you smile when you hear him snore. You listen to him and Theo breathe for a while until you finally close your eyes, wishing this was real, that you were a real family.

****

The next morning is fun, if not a little hectic. Getting up and getting ready without crowding each other in the bathroom proves interesting and the two of you decide to take Theo out to breakfast before getting back on the road to Austin. Taking your time and enjoying the Sunday brunch, Marcus can’t help but laugh at your jokes and enjoy that you have such a warm and delightful personality. Making him wonder what would have happened if he had gotten your number right. Would you two be married right now? Would there be another child besides Theo? He hates thinking that way, since he’s involved with Teresa, but it’s there in the back of his mind. 

You hate how natural this feels with Marcus. It should be awkward. After all, he fucked you while on duty in a jail cell, yet it feels like you’ve known him forever. You smile as Theo tells his dad about his favorite show and you realize it’s gonna be hard to meet Teresa, to meet the woman that has Marcus. “Shall we get on the road?” Marcus asks, pulling you out of your thoughts, and you nod, gathering your things. The drive home is filled with music and Theo chattering away and you can feel Marcus look at you every now and then, his hand on the gearshift and it makes you want to reach out and place your hand on top. “Dad, can you come to my game on Friday?” Theo asks, “with Teresa?”

“I’ll have to check with Teresa, but as long as nothing comes up with your mom’s case, I’ll be there.” He promises, looking in the rear view mirror at his son’s hopeful eyes. “Sometimes the bad guys don’t stop being bad to do fun things, but I will never stop trying to make sure that I am there.” It’s important to him that Theo knows that. “Even if I’m coming in at the end or having to duck out early, I will be there as much as I can.”

He knows it’s a hollow promise to a ten year old, but he also wants to make sure that he knows that sometimes dad’s job has to come before other things. It’s one of the downsides as far as Marcus is concerned.

Theo nods, “okay, dad.” 

You look behind you to wink at Theo, “if not this game, the next one.” You compromise with your son, not wanting him to put all his hopes on this one game when Marcus could be working. You turn back to the front and Marcus nods, sending you a silent thanks. 

****

“Come on Theo!” You cheer, watching your son run to third base and then “home run!” You shout and clap your hands. Marcus hasn’t arrived yet, he texted to say he’d be late and he has a lead on the mysterious man who was in the video.

Marcus pulls into the parking lot, rushing out of the car and takes a moment so he can lock his gun in the glove compartment and take off his jacket. Rushing over to the ball field that you had told him. He managed to catch Theo sliding into home and cheering. “Yeah! Theo! Way to go buddy!” He stands at the fence and beams at the boy as he stands up and brushes himself off.

Theo sees his dad and his face lights up. He’s covered in dirt but he looks on top of the world. You clap and cheer your son and suddenly Marcus appears beside you. “Hey!” You greet him and glance around, your brow furrowed as you look past him. “Teresa couldn’t make it?” You ask him.

“She had to work.” Marcus frowns slightly but he shrugs. “She said that she would like to go out to dinner with you and Theo.” He offers, although he had been the one to suggest it. She had been a little distracted when she agreed, but she had been rushing to get off the phone to talk to Jane.

You nod, “that would be nice. I want to meet her.” You say even though you’re not entirely convinced. Teresa doesn’t seem to want to meet. She’s avoided every opportunity to meet Theo and you are worried she won’t accept your son.

“I think you’ll get along well.” Marcus hums, even though he’s starting to get antsy about the two of you meeting. He’s spent a lot of time with you lately and while she understands, it seems as if there’s not been a lot of time for them. He doesn’t want her getting worried about things.

After the game is over, you take Theo for ice cream to celebrate and Marcus is a little distracted, looking at his phone. “Everything okay?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. I’m fine.” He says and you don’t push, knowing he has a lot on his plate.

Marcus gets the alert that there is a name on the suspect, as well as a current address. He hums and looks up, smiling at Theo and you. “Tomorrow, I might be a little out of pocket.” He announces to you. “We are going to question the man from the security surveillance.” He tells you quietly while Theo is distracted with his ice cream.

Your eyes widen slightly, “wow. I hope - hopefully something comes from it. The artist is freaking out and I’m struggling to keep him calm enough to keep his other pieces in the gallery. We had to reassure him that our security has been reinforced.” You confess and Marcus nods, “we will get him.”

Marcus hates that he had been late, finding it to be too little time with Theo. “Sorry I was late, but I’m glad to see that home run. Those batting drills are paying off.”

“Yes they are.” You smile, happy that Marcus and Theo have already bonded. You are a little sad that your son has missed out on so much with his dad but you are happy he’s here now.

****

“You got him?” You gasp when Marcus comes into your office before telling you he has found the perp who stole the piece. 

“We got him. And the art. He had it in some storage unit out west, waiting until the dust settled so he could sell it.” Marcus tells you and grins. 

“Oh my God. Thank you!” You surge forward to hug him, relieved and happy that the piece has been found.

Marcus grins and hugs you back. Rubbing your back gently and nodding when he pulls back. “Obviously the piece will be photographed and logged into evidence for authentication, but once that is done, we will return it to you. The pictures from recovery will be enough for the DA.”

You kiss his cheek as you pull back, “thank you. Thank you.” You squeal, not even thinking about kissing his cheek until you hear a throat clear behind you. You turn to see a woman, her eyes flicking between you and Marcus whose eyes widen as he looks at the woman.

“Teresa. Come here.” He gestures her over and introduces you. You aren’t sure if she is upset or doesn’t like you being near Marcus but she’s polite yet aloof when you get to finally meet Teresa.

Teresa slides up beside Marcus and looks up at him in amusement. “Good news?” She asks and Marcus nods. 

“We recovered the painting today.” He tells her and her slightly bland smile turns genuine. 

“That’s great.” She murmurs, knowing how good a closed case is for an FBI agent. She wraps her arm around his waist and hugs him tightly before she looks towards Theo. “So, this must be Theo.” She grins, bending down slightly. “Your daddy talks about you….a lot.”

“My dad doesn’t talk that much about you.” Theo answers honestly and you clear your throat, offering Teresa an awkward smile, ruffling Theo’s hair. 

“It’s great to meet you.” You tell her and she nods, “you too.” Theo steps closer to you and you nudge his back, silently telling him to be polite and he looks at you with those same brown eyes as Marcus.

Marcus chuckles quietly, admitting that is true but Teresa just smiles. “I’m sure he has more to talk about with you than me.” She tells him before looking back up at Marcus. “Are we ready to go eat?” She asks. “I’m starved. Jane had us mucking through a field rather than having lunch today.”

You notice the frown on Marcus’s face as he hears the name Jane and he’s told you about Patrick Jane a few times, about how he feels like the man is trying to get involved in his relationship with Teresa. 

“Let’s go to dinner.” You declare after you grab your purse and Theo starts to chatter to his dad about the upcoming game. 

****

“So, uh, yeah. I haven’t given them my final decision since I wanted to talk to you first.” You tell Marcus as you sit on your sofa. Theo just went to bed and you asked Marcus to stay a little longer so you can talk. 

“The Smithsonian. Wow.” Marcus says softly, looking across the room. 

“Yeah. It’s - it’s huge. Modern art and I- it’s in D.C and I want Theo to have his father in his life but this job - it’s double my salary now and it’s the freakin’ Smithsonian. If you don’t want me to take the job, I understand, but Marcus…I want this. Not to guilt trip you but I’ve lived my life for Theo since I found out I was pregnant and this - this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

Immediately shaking his head, he hums in disapproval. “No, no, you should absolutely take it.” He insists. “There’s airplanes, we can visit.” He cocks his head and thinks about it for a moment. “There’s rumors of a position opening up in DC, that I’m also rumored to be in the running for now that my latest case has been solved so quickly.” He admits. “Maybe I can push for that position. You wouldn’t find it creepy if I moved to DC too? Follow you and Theo?”

You shake your head so fast it almost makes you dizzy. “You move to D.C? Marcus - that would be - I would love that. I don’t want Theo to lose his dad just when he’s got him. I want you to come to D.C with us…you and Teresa.”

“I’ll talk to Teresa.” Marcus nods. “If I get that position, it’s a director's job, I can pull some strings and get her a job at headquarters.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face, “you are amazing.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll tell them I’m taking the job. We can figure everything out.” You promise and his phone starts to ring. “I’ll let you go home.” You say, standing up and he follows suit, deciding to silence the phone call so he can say goodbye.

“We will work it all out.” He promises as he walks with you to the door. He’s eager to get home and see about putting in for the position. He has a few friends in DC that he can call and have a conversation with.

****

Teresa is shocked when Marcus asks her to move to D.C with him, even more shocked when he proposes. She isn’t sure about the move to D.C but she can’t let him go. He’s a good man and although you and Theo aren’t her ideal, she’s reluctant to let Marcus go. 

When you hear about Marcus getting the job in D.C, you are ecstatic. When you hear about Marcus and Teresa being engaged, you try to be happy for him, but it’s hard. Teresa doesn’t seem to be on board about being a stepmom to Theo, nor does she seem able to tear herself away from Patrick Jane. You’re worried about Marcus getting hurt but you don’t want to say something in case Marcus turns against you. You can’t get involved for Theo’s sake. You often imagine being a family with Marcus and Theo but you’re not an idiot. Marcus loved Teresa otherwise he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him. You sigh and continue to pack. Theo has finished the school year and you threw a goodbye party for him, you leave tomorrow and it’s bittersweet but you’re excited for the future.

“So I’m going to go ahead and find us a place.” Marcus chatters with Teresa. “I’ve already got listings booked and I’m thinking of a house, at least three bedrooms.” He tells her. “I want a room for Theo, let him come over and spend the night, give his mom a break and let us bond together.” His apartment is packed and organized, ready for the movers to pick up. “What do you think?”

Teresa bites her lip as she holds her cell phone, Jane gesturing for her to hurry up as she shuffles her feet in the airport in Miami. “Yeah. I, uh, that sounds good. Marcus…I gotta go. This case…I’ll see you in D.C, yeah?” She says and Marcus frowns but doesn’t voice his annoyance, “sure. Speak later, honey. Love you.” He says and she hums before she hangs up the phone, following her partner out to their hired car.

****

“Oh my God, he did.” You nod, laughing alongside Theo and Marcus as Theo talks about his friend shoved a marble up his nose and you had to call his mom while taking the boy to the ER after you couldn’t remove it. Marcus shakes his head, laughing at Theo’s face. 

“I told him not to do it.” Theo mumbles and you chuckle, stopping when Marcus’s phone rings. 

“It’s Teresa.” He says and stands up, making his way into your new living room to take the call. “Hey.” Marcus smiles as he answers the phone, happy to see Teresa’s name pop up. She should be about to take off to come to D.C. He doesn’t quite understand why she called him a few hours earlier talking about coming sooner, but he’s happy. “You about to take off? I can’t wait to see you. You should see the new place.”

Teresa looks up as Jane runs onto the plane and she can hear Marcus talking to her but she doesn’t respond. Marcus frowns when he hears Jane say “I love you” to Teresa and that’s the moment he knows it’s over. He won’t be seeing Teresa in D.C. He guesses he should’ve seen this coming but a small part of him wanted him to be the one who comes out on top, who gets the girl for once. “Marcus, you okay?” You ask, “your ice cream is melting.”

“What?” He’s staring down at his phone, frowning at it and then looks back up at you. “Oh, oh yeah.” He shakes his head, plastering a fake smile on his face. “Everything’s good.” He motions back towards the kitchen. “Let’s go eat before it’s ice cream soup.”

You don’t believe that everything is fine but you don’t press as you walk back into the kitchen and Theo has already eaten half of his ice cream. “Where’s my cherry?” Marcus asks and Theo bites his lip. 

“Theo!” You reprimand the ten year old and Marcus shakes his head, snorting, “it’s fine. I’ll just have to have yours.” Marcus plucks the cherry from Theo’s sundae and the boy cries out in protest. 

“It’s not nice to take without asking, is it?” Marcus asks and Theo shakes his head, “no. I’m sorry, dad. You can have the cherry.” Theo shakes his head and Marcus places the cherry back in his son’s bowl. 

“You can have it but don’t take.” He teaches him and you nod, amazed at how far Marcus has come in being a father. It makes your heart thump and your stomach twist but you shove that aside.

He manages to eat his ice cream without causing his son to worry but he can feel your eyes on him. Wondering what is wrong since he’s not acting like himself. 

After ice cream, Marcus and Theo clean up the kitchen together. Marcus knows it’s important to have his son help you out and it’s good for him to see that a man should help with household upkeep. “Go tell your momma goodnight and get ready for bed, buddy.” He ruffles Theo’s hair after he dries his hands. “Thank you for helping.”

Theo comes rushing over and wraps his arms around you. “Goodnight mom.” He says and you bend over to kiss his hair, “go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll bring you some water and Dad will tuck you in.” You promise and Theo rushes off to the bathroom. You glance over at Marcus who is still in the kitchen, shoulders hunched. After Theo is in bed, you and Marcus bid him goodnight, shutting the door, and you walk into the living room and spin to face Marcus. 

“What’s happened?” You ask, knowing there’s something wrong.

His eyes slip closed and the tight rein on his control slips. He sighs and seems to just wilt under your gentle probing. “Teresa-“ he chokes out. “She’s- she’s not coming to D.C.” He turns and stumbles a few short steps to the couch and sags down into it, hunching forward and plopping his head into his hands, elbows on his knees.

You frown, sitting down beside him and you place your hand on his back. “What do you mean she's not coming? Is her flight delayed?” You ask, confused and wanting to comfort Marcus. He seems distraught and you feel helpless.

“She-“ he shakes his head and looks up, his eyes slightly watery. “Apparently Jane is in love with her and….” He shrugs. “She’s going to stay in Texas, with him.”

Your heart breaks for him, “oh Marcus. I- I’m so sorry.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around him, wanting to comfort him. He doesn’t need your opinion of Teresa or the situation, you know he needs you to just be there for him. “She’s a fucking idiot to pick Jane over you.”

“I should have known it wouldn’t be …” he shakes his head again. Not willing to burden you with the second thoughts that had plagued him and the terse unspoken things between him and Teresa. “It’s who she wants. I don’t want to be second place.”

You caress his back, resting your head on top of his shoulder. “You’re not second place. She didn’t know what she had. Jane is gonna break her heart. You were too good for her. Anyone could see it. Marcus…you deserve better.” You voice some of your opinion of Teresa, not wanting to say you think she’s a heartless bitch.

“It’s my fault.” Marcus groans, embarrassed that you are seeing this. Seeing him wallow like this. He should have just gone home. Now you are going to think that he is some kind of sap. Or worse, a horrible example for Theo. “I should have seen the signs. They were there.”

“She should’ve told you. She shouldn’t have dragged you along. She shouldn’t have accepted your proposal or agreed to move to D.C with you. I don’t see how this is your fault when you gave her every chance to say no. She should’ve backed out long ago if she was in love with Patrick Jane. She led you on and you should never blame yourself for that.”

“I should have ended things when I found out about Theo.” Marcus rambles on, appreciating your comfort but he always blames himself. “Concentrated on that. Instead of thinking about having it all.”

You huff, “finding out about Theo doesn’t change anything. She - Teresa didn’t exactly seem enthusiastic to get to know him and - and as his mother, I could sense that. You can have it all, sweetheart. You will. She just wasn’t the right one. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t want to be bringing women in and out of his life.” Marcus reaches out and he takes your hand, turning it over and kissing the back of it. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but I should go home.”

You nod, knowing he probably needs to go home and have a drink. “You’ll find the right one, Marcus. You deserve your happy ending.” You tell him, leaning in to kiss his cheek as he stands at your front door. “Go have a whiskey and pass out and tomorrow, wallow. Don’t force yourself to be happy, go lucky. You can be mad and upset.” You remind him, knowing he will try to push it aside.

“Thank you.” Again, the thought of where he would be if he had called you floats through his head but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not in the right headspace to say anything and you’ve never even hinted that you wanted anything to do with him. Besides, he doesn’t want a rebound. “I’ll see you later.” He pulls away and stands, grabbing his jacket and shuffling towards the door.

You watch him go and close the door, your heart breaking for him, and you want to fly to Miami and strangle Teresa for hurting him. He deserves more. You often wonder what life would've been like if he had called. Would you be married? Or would you be divorced? It’s hard to imagine you’d divorce Marcus. You know he’s gonna wallow and you make your way to bed, knowing you’ll be there for him no matter what.

****

“Hey.” Marcus has been wallowing for two weeks and he’s tired of feeling down and letting his personal life affect his relationship with you and his son. “What are you doing this weekend?” He tucks his phone against his shoulder and waits for you to answer. He’s gotten tickets to a Nationals game and wanted to take both of you.

You glance around your office, watching your staff walk down the hall through the window. “Nothing. I was gonna take Theo to the park, maybe get some brunch. What are you up to?” You ask him and he tells you about the baseball game. “Well you know Theo will love that.” You smile, “we haven’t been to a game here yet.”

“I’ve got three tickets.” He doesn’t say that it was for Teresa, because he had just bought them. “So I was hoping that you would come with us? Make it a group outing? Unless you want to take the time and have some alone, non-parental adult time for yourself?”

You bite your lip and know you’d love to spend some time to yourself but you also don’t want to miss out on spending time with Theo, and with Marcus. You want to discuss doing the DNA test to get shared custody of Theo so Marcus can spend more time with his son. “I’d like to go. I know Theo will love it and I think we could all use some time to enjoy ourselves.”

“Great!” He knows you are probably still worried about him, you’ve been texting him everyday. Checking on him and he appreciates it. He could have never imagined a better mother for his child or a friend. It makes him kick himself in the ass sometimes for not finding you after that night.

****

“You’re going undercover for a month?” You ask Marcus, arms crossed. It’s been three months since Teresa broke his heart and you’re worried he’s doing this because he wants to distract himself. You’ve been trying to keep him occupied, going on picnics, going to museums and the movies. All with Theo. It’s been hard to not want more from him but he’s emotionally drained and you have to put Theo first. “

“Yeah.” Marcus hates that he has to do this, but it’s also a good thing. He’s started imagining you as a complete family and he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s using you to get over Teresa. “Apparently there’s something that I can be good for.” He jokes quietly and flashes you a grin. “I’ve been sitting behind a desk too much lately.”

You don’t want him to go, you know undercover missions are dangerous and he won’t be able to communicate with you or Theo for the time that he’s gone. “You- you really want to go? I- Theo is going to miss you. So am I.” You admit, biting your lip as you stare at him.

“I’ll miss you both too.” That is easy to confess. “I will be safe, but honestly?” He sighs. “I’m the only one that can go in. My team isn’t exactly unknown in the art world.”

You nod, knowing you can’t stop him, this is his job. “You wanna stay for dinner and you can say goodbye to Theo?” You ask, a little annoyed that he waited until the day of to tell you but you can see he’s been nervous. 

“Sure.” You step forward to touch his upper arm, “you’d better not be killed, Pike…otherwise I’ll murder you.” You threaten playfully as you make your way to the kitchen to begin dinner while Theo sits at the table finishing his homework. Marcus chuckles like he was supposed to as you both walk into the kitchen.

“Hey buddy.” Marcus’ smile immediately brightens when he sees his son sitting at the table. 

“Hey dad.” He glances up and grins before he’s looking back down at his work sheets. 

“I wanted to talk to you before dinner.” Marcus sits down and waits until Theo puts his pencil down. “Buddy, I’ve got to go out of town for work. A big case and I’ve got to be out of touch. It’ll be for a month, and then I promise I’ll be back and you and I are going to spend a ton of time together.”

Theo frowns, “a whole month?” He asks and Marcus nods. “Why?” Theo whines and you turn to look at him in warning for his tone. 

“I gotta go fight bad guys. I can’t - I promise you I’ll spend as much time as possible with you when I get back.” Marcus promises and Theo pouts, “I don’t want you to go! You’re gonna disappear and I’ll never see you again.”

“That won’t happen.” Marcus promises, shaking his head. “If there’s an emergency, I’m going to give your mom a number so my work can get me a message.” He explains

You walk over to rub Theo’s back, “it’s okay, sweetheart. Your dad will be back  before you know it. He’s gotta go fight bad guys and he’s gonna come back and spend so much time with you. Maybe you can stay with your dads for a change.” You give Theo something to look forward to.

“We could do that?” Theo asks hopefully and Marcus nods. 

“Of course. I want you to stay. I want you to have your room set up just the way you want it.”

You nod, “your dad and I will talk when he’s back about spending some nights together. Boy time without mama.” You wink, and Marcus smiles at you before you finish cooking dinner. After you eat, it’s time for Marcus to go and you watch him say goodbye to Theo for the month.

There are extra long hugs and Theo tears up, but Marcus is right there with him. “I love you, buddy.” Marcus promises. “I’m going to be back as quickly as I can. And I’m going to be thinking about you all the time.”

You watch them say goodbye with tears in your eyes and you know it will be hard for Marcus and Theo to be away from each other. They are so close now and you wonder how they were ever apart. Marcus kisses his forehead and you watch Marcus as steps towards you. You wrap your arms around him and you breathe him in, holding him close before he leaves for at least four weeks.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” He doesn’t hesitate to kiss the top of your head. “Take care of our boy, okay?” He asks softly, wishing that he didn’t have to go.

You step back and you pull Theo into your side as Marcus grabs his jacket. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises both of you and Theo’s lower lip trembles as he watches his dad leave. 

“It’s okay baby.” You promise, pulling him into your arms to comfort him. You know he loves his father and if you’re being honest with yourself, so do you. 

**** 

The month seems to drag by and you decide to put up a calendar so Theo can cross off the days until his father is supposed to be home and finally, it’s that day. You are anxious, waiting for Marcus to call to say he’s coming home and finally, when the phone rings, you grab it so fast it nearly drops out of your hand. “Marcus.” You sigh, relieved when he says hello. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” You ask, desperate to hear that he’s fine.

“Hey.” Marcus grins, even though he’s exhausted. He just got out of a long debriefing and still has to fly home, but he wanted to hear your voice and Theo’s. “I’ve got a flight in about ten minutes. I should be back in D.C. late, but I was wondering if I could come over and see Theo? And you?”

You glance over at your computer, a little lost in the fact that he’s okay. Your pounding heart calms a little and you exhale softly. “Of course. Theo will be mad if I don’t let him see you as soon as you are back in D.C. Come over when you’re back. Theo can take the day off of school tomorrow and we can do something together to celebrate you being back. How long is the flight?” You ask and Marcus pauses, “I, uh, actually I’m flying from Austin. Had to go do a deposition. Figured I’d head straight there after the op ended to get it out of the way.” He confesses and you bite your lip, a little mad that he didn’t call first thing. 

“Oh, okay. Well, uh, I’ll see you soon.” You say and he clears his throat, “yeah. There’s something I wanna talk to you about. See you later.” He says vaguely and your stomach twists. What could he possibly want to talk about? 

You mull it over for a couple of hours until it hits you. “Teresa.” You choke, he’s getting back together with her. Something in your gut just tells you that’s what he wants to discuss.

On the flight, Marcus mulls over what he wants to say. He’s missed you. A lot. Not just Theo, but you as well. You’ve been on his mind constantly, wondering if you’re cooking dinner or curling up with your phone to giggle at videos that you’ll share with him. He realized over the last month that he’s been gone, he’s in love with you. It’s been hard to not call you and tell you, but he decided it was better to do it in person. If you don’t feel the same way, he won’t try to convince you. He’ll concentrate on helping you raise Theo. But he’s come to view the three of you as a family. The family that he’s been supposed to have all along.

The doorbell rings and you smile when Theo rushes to the door. “Hold on, sweetheart, let me check who it is.” You look through the peephole and your heart thumps as you see Marcus, looking different with a beard. You open the door and Theo rushes out, “dad!” He shouts and wraps his arms around Marcus.

“Hey buddy!” Marcus rushes towards his son and scoops him up into a crushing hug. Feeling instantly better now that his little boy is in his arms. “God, I missed you. I thought about you every day. Talked to you at night before I went to bed.” He pulls back and grins at the boy. “Have you been good for your momma?”

Theo surges forward to hug his dad again, reluctant to let go so you answer, “he’s been good. Been making a list of things he’s wanted to talk to you about so be prepared.” You joke and Marcus chuckles, “I got all the time for you, bud. I have the next week off so I’m all yours.” 

You are relieved to see Marcus and he steps forward to kiss your cheek while holding Theo close to his side. “Hey sweetheart.” He murmurs and you smile at him, letting him step into your apartment. 

“Come in, I’m just making dinner.” You tell him and shut the door behind him when Theo takes his hand to practically drag him inside.

Marcus chuckles and shakes his head. “You missed me?” He teases playfully but Theo just scoffs. 

“Of course I missed you dad. I didn’t have anyone to play catch with.” He sends you an apologetic look. “Mom tries but she’s not as good as you are.” 

He ruffles Theo’s hair. “That’s okay. Mom’s great at a lot of other things.”

You nod, “exactly. Who else is gonna make your lunch just how you like it? Daddy doesn’t know how to cut off the crusts.” You tease and Theo shakes his head, “I don’t want that anymore.” He lies, “I’m a big boy.” 

You snort, “sure thing baby.” You wink at Marcus as the boys sit at the kitchen table and you grab a beer for Marcus and a juice for Theo. 

“What did you do, dad? Did you fight the bad guys?”

“I did.” Marcus smiles a thank you towards you as he takes the beer. “But first I had to convince them that I was a bad guy too.” He admits and Theo’s eyes widen. 

“But you are the best!” He cries, making Marcus feel so very honored that his son thinks so highly of him.��

“I was just trying to get them to tell me all the bad stuff they were doing. And I did it. So I got to arrest them.”

“That’s awesome!” Theo cheers, a wide grin on his face and you are glad that Marcus is back with his son…for now at least. You work on dinner, listening to them catch up and when you sit down, Marcus asks how you’ve been. “Same old. Work has kept me busy. Trying and failing to play catch with this one keeps me occupied.” You tease Theo who looks down at his plate with a little remorse at his comment. You wink at him when he looks up to show you are teasing and he starts to dig into his dinner. “I, uh, had my mom come stay for a weekend. She looked after Theo while I went out with some work friends.”

“That’s great.” Marcus’ smile tightens slightly, wondering if it was a date. He doesn’t have any reason to be jealous, but he would love to take you out. To give you a kid free night and explore what could be between the two of you. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah it was good.” You nod, “Theo had a good time with his grandma, right?” You ask the little boy who nods, “she gave me soooo much chocolate.” He says and you chuckle, “and she was told it was too much.” You remind him and ruffle his hair. 

You finish eating and Theo is reluctant to go to bed but you soon convince him to shower and get ready for bed so Marcus can go lay in the bed with him until he falls asleep. “Night, my love.” You kiss Theo on the forehead and pat Marcus’s side as he lays down and pulls Theo close to continue talking. 

“Dad?” Theo asks softly. 

“Yeah?” Marcus murmurs back. 

“Mommy missed you.” He reveals without you knowing.

“She did?” Marcus’ heart leaps in his chest but he focuses on his son, brushing his hair back. “Why do you say that?” He asks quietly. He wonders if you just agreed that you missed him when Theo said something or if you had been upset that he wasn’t around to help.

“She would stare at that photo of the three of us, that’s in the hall. She’d cry and think I couldn’t see it, hear her.” He whispers, innocent eyes wide as he looks at his father.

“Oh.” He closes his eyes and nods. “I understand.” He whispers, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Theo’s. “I’ll make sure I make it up to her too.” He promises. He knows how much Theo loves his mom. You’re easy to love.

Theo snuggles into his chest, closing his eyes. “I love you, dad.” He murmurs, falling asleep moments later. When Marcus comes out of Theo’s room, softly shutting the door behind him, you look up from your phone. “He asleep?” You ask and Marcus nods, “out like a light.” 

You smile softly, setting your phone down, “he’s missed you so much.” You tell Marcus who comes to sit down beside you. 

“I missed him.” He says and you notice him hesitating. 

“Marcus…do you have something you need to tell me? Because I’d rather you just rip the bandaid off if you’re gonna be moving back to Austin, back to Teresa.” You spit out your worries, unable to stop it.

“What?” Marcus’ eyes widen and he’s bewildered until he remembers that he had told you that he was flying back from Austin. “No, no, I’m not getting back together with Teresa.” He promises. “I’m not going back to Texas. I want to stay here with Theo. And you.” He takes a step closer to you. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been gone.”

You look up at him, your brow furrowed and you wonder what he’s talking about. “Me too. I want - I want us to have shared custody of Theo. Officially. I want you to be listed as his father and I want you to be able to have all the rights a father has.”

“Is that all you want?” He asks softly, knowing that he’s putting his heart on the line. “I want- I needed that time apart.” He admits. “I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just feeling grateful for you after Teresa, but I know that I - I’m in love with you.”

You stare at him, in shock and your jaw drops slightly. “You- wait - you - Marcus?” You ask breathlessly. He fidgets, looking like he’s regretting telling you but you shake your head and surge forward to cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes back to you. “I love you for the brilliant agent you are. I love you for how kind you are. I love you for what an incredible father you are. I am so in love with you, Marcus Anthony Pike. You are the one that got away but you’re back now and I’m yours if you want me.” You promise him, voice steady as you give air to the emotions that have been plaguing you since long before Marcus left to go undercover.

His brow furrows and he pulls you closer, feeling both incredibly frustrated for all the time you’ve lost together and relieved that you feel the same way. He whispers your name. “I love you.” He promises before he ducks his head and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is sweet and full of yearning. You and Marcus may have started off as a purely physical encounter but these feelings are the culmination of months and months of friendship and respect. You sigh into the kiss, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest and you can feel how fast his heart is thumping.

“Baby.” He pulls away and kisses down your jaw. “I love you. I just- I wanted to make sure -“ he groans again and his hands slide down to the very cusp of your ass. “I’ve felt so guilty. Because I wanted our little family to be real.”

You whimper when his lips kiss down your neck. “Marcus. Whatever happens- we - we agree that Theo comes first but - I really want to take you to my bed right now.” You admit, “and do naughty things to you.”

He groans against your pulse, unable to deny the fact that his cock is twitching. He’s had sex with you once and it is one of the highlights of his sexual experiences. So he might be a little nervous that he doesn’t live up to your expectations. “Let me make love to you.” He begs, scraping his teeth over your sensitive skin and grinning when you shudder. “I promise it won’t be the last time we are in bed together.”

You should be worried that this will change everything and if anything happens between you and Marcus, you put Theo in the middle. However, you don’t feel scared, you feel like this is meant to be. You feel like you belong with Marcus, in his arms. The love you feel isn’t fleeting or a honeymoon phase, it’s deep and real. “Take me to bed.” You request softly and Marcus takes your hand, guiding you to your bedroom. He’s been in here before but mainly to help with DIY stuff and when you’ve been putting laundry away. He shuts the door behind him while you shift towards the bed and when he walks over to cup your cheeks, you suddenly go a little shy. 

“Hi.” You murmur when his nose nudges yours. Marcus chuckles softly, “hi.” His response is soft and sweet, making you lean forward to press your lips together while your fingers work on the buttons of his shirt.

It’s slow. An opposite response to the first time that you were together. He wants you completely bare, he wants to be bare. He wants this to be what it should have been that first time. Sighing when your fingers brush his bare skin, he reaches for your hands and brings them up to kiss your fingers. “I’ve dreamed of touching you again so many times.” He confesses. “I want to make this good.”

“It’s you. It will be good because it’s you.” You promise him, your fingers caressing his jaw while his hands let go of yours to find the hem of your shirt. You let him pull it over your head and his hands caress your spine while they slide up to the clasp of your bra. “God, I love you.” You sigh after he removes your bra and he’s dragging you against him, your chests pressed together and your confession comes seconds before his lips find yours again.

Your taste is intoxicating, his tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours. Keeping it lighter, but the hunger is there, just simmering beneath the softness. His hands roam over your back before he slides them down to unhook your pants. “I want to taste you.” He groans against your lips. “Thought about it that night. Just spreading you apart wearing my cuffs and tonguing fucking your cunt on that jail cell bed.”

You moan softly at the memory of that night. How feral and rough it was. “Fuck, I- I think about that night all the time. When I- when I use my vibrator. Remember how you felt, the way you touched me. How you sounded.” You confess while he pushes your pants down and you step out of them to leave you in your underwear.

“I want to touch all of you.” He groans. “I wish I had just stripped you down. Fuck getting caught. You are gorgeous.” His hands caress your stomach, in awe that this body gave him Theo so long ago. “I can’t tell you how many times I jerked off thinking about that night. What I would have done if I had you again.”

“Shit, Marcus.” You pant, loving the dirty talk that’s spilling from his mouth and you reach down to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. “Always imagined sucking your cock. Wanting you to cum down my throat. So much I want you to do to me and me to you. Fuck.” You gasp when he bends over to take your nipple into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair and push him further into your chest, your body almost shaking from the sensation after so long without physical touch.

He can’t help but groan when you tangle your fingers and tug. You hadn’t touched him that night and all of your previous touch had been innocent and friendly. Suckling hungrily, he bites down on your nipple gently and then soothing it with a loving lick. Imagining them filled with milk for his son. Imagining seeing you pregnant.

“Marcus. I want - I want to see all of you.” You plead when he lathes your other breast with attention until you’re pushing him back. You reach for his belt, unbuckling it and working fast to unbutton his pants. Reaching in to wrap your fingers around his cock that you never got to touch the first time.

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses, his hips rocking up. “Jesus, baby.” He lets you take control, knowing that you had been at his mercy the first time. He owes you this. “Sit on my face.” He begs, willing to do whatever you want but he wants his tongue into you.

You won’t argue with him, letting go of his cock to push your underwear down and he works on pushing his pants and boxers down, struggling to kick off his shoes until he’s left in just his socks and he’s in too much of a hurry to remove those. You watch him lay down and you kneel on the bed. “Fuck, I want to suck your cock too. Didn’t get a chance to.” You say, bending over to run your tongue along the underside of his cock as it rests heavy on his lower stomach.

“Fuck.” Marcus moans, nodding almost dumbly as your tongue presses against the head. “Whatever you want. I just want to make you feel good, baby”

You nod, shifting to straddle Marcus’s chest. You want to suck him off but you remind yourself that you don’t just have one night, you have as many as he will give you. You slow down a little as you sit on his chest and his hands grab your thighs, shifting you until you are hovering over his face.

“Jesus Christ, you have such a pretty cunt.” Marcus groans before he lunges up and dives into your folds. Sliding his tongue through the wetness and moaning at your taste.

Your hands find your headboard, a moan escaping your lips as his tongue dives deep. “Fuck! Marcus!” You cry, throwing your head back and you realize you were too loud for sleeping Theo. You bite your lip, trying to remain quiet and rocking your hips down to meet his eager tongue.

Marcus groans, his hands coaxing you to ride his face. He doesn’t want you to suppress your noises, he wants to hear all of them. Cock throbbing as he probes deeper into your cunt, his chin grinding against your clit.

You let go of your lip as you can’t help the moan that escapes you as you grind down onto his face, his hands squeezing your hips with encouragement and you whimper when he nudges your clit just right.

Chuckling, Marcus makes sure that you are still getting that pressure that makes you whimper. Watching your ass move as you rock on his tongue, lost in pleasure. He wonders when the last time you had someone do this for you. He knows it will be something regular now, as long as you want it.

His chuckle vibrates through you and you reach up to squeeze your own tits after letting go of the headboard, your head thrown back as you grind onto his face. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna - Marc - oh shit.” You squeal and clamp down on his tongue, soaking his face as you cum with a low moan.

He swears he could cum from just that alone. Groaning and continuing to make sure that you have the best orgasm you can possibly experience. Slowing his tongue and just keeping you shaking as you ride it out.

You take a moment to savor the feel of him before you bend over, taking his hard cock into your mouth with renewed vigor after he made you cum so hard. His answering groan makes you work harder, shifting off of his face to take him deeper.

“Baby.” He gasps, reaching down and cupping your jaw. “Holy shit.” His eyes roll back in pleasure when you flick your tongue over his frenulum and suck on the tip. “Not- not gonna last if you do that.” He pants, wanting to be inside you when he cums.

You reluctantly pull off of him, shifting to straddle his thighs, his cock pressed against your stomach as you lean down to kiss him. Again, there’s no rush as you languidly caress his tongue with yours. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur against his chin. “I have an IUD. I know we never discuss anything sexual but it’s been a while for me and I’m clean.” You haven’t been a nun since Theo was born, managing a few nights out with coworkers or friends while your mom babysat back in Austin and you ended up having sex before rushing home to relieve your mom, never taking it beyond that for Theo’s sake.

“I love you too.” Marcus promises. “I- I got tested after ending things with Teresa.” It was a part of the work up for his undercover mission, but he had been planning on scheduling it anyway. “I’m clean and I trust you completely. You know that. Or you should.”

You caress his chest after you sit up, “I trust you with everything I am.” You promise him and his answering grin makes your heart thump. You shift up onto your knees, reaching between you to grip his cock and you position him at your entrance, sinking down onto him with a moan as he slowly stretches you out.

Marcus watches in rapture as your face twists up in pleasure at the fill of him. “I love you.” He groans, caressing your side and smiling up at you as you adjust to him. He wants you to take your time, whatever time you need. He wants you to have the exact pleasure you want tonight.

You take a moment to adjust to him, he’s long and you feel like he’s already in your guts. You caress his chest and close your eyes for a moment, just feeling him. Finally, your thighs touch his and you open your eyes to look at him. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You admit after you lift up, slowly, and you feel him dragging against your walls as you sink back down onto him.

“You feel good.” He groans. “You felt so good that night, but now.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hips. “I love you. Fuck baby, you look so good. You belong right there.”

Your heart pounds as you look down at him, your hand sliding over his chest to feel how his heart beats and you love the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “It was meant to be. That night. Us having sex. Having Theo. It took a while but this is where we belong.” You murmur, grinding down onto him.

“Yes it is, baby.” That he’s now completely certain of. “I want to make a real family with you.” He knows that serious conversations need to happen, Theo’s best interests need to come first, but he wants you to know how serious he is. “Us baby. The three of us.”

His words make tears spring in your eyes and you bend over, cupping his cheeks so you can kiss him. “The three of us. A family, oh God. You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined it. Maybe…maybe one day…another baby. If it works out.” You suggest, “want you to be there for it all.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you rock back onto him.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans and his cock twitches inside you. “I hate that I missed it. I would have waited on you, hand and foot.” There’s nothing he wants more than to see you growing his child, but maybe there can be another one sometime soon. If you want. He would love it. “Want to marry you, baby.” He coos.

His words make you shiver at the idea of being Mrs. Pike, but in the best way possible. It’s something you’ve definitely thought about, you’d guiltily admit that you thought about it when he was with Teresa. You rock back onto him, your chest still pressed against his. “I want to be yours, Marcus. In every way. You are - fuck - you are everything I want.” You promise, leaning closer to kiss along his neck.

The moment lingers and it’s everything that he’s wanted. The sensation more than he had with Teresa. He knows that now. His hands slide up your back, tongue pressing against the dip in your shoulder.

You are breathless as you rock on top of him, “Marc.” You moan as your body shakes above him, getting closer and closer as the angle hits just right and his pelvis is rubbing against your clit. You bury your face in his neck when you cum. It’s slow and intense, making your entire body vibrate as you feel it from your toes all the way to your head. It’s dizzying and you shudder as you try to work yourself through it.

“Good girl.” Marcus moans, closing his eyes and feeling your body shake and shudder as you softly come down from your high until you are limp on top of him. “God, you are so perfect.”

You tilt your head to kiss him, enjoying the feel of him inside of you and the lingering haze of your orgasm. His tongue slides against yours and you’re in no rush. You have all night and hopefully every night from now on. His hands caress your back until he pulls back from your mouth and rolls you over, his body hovering over yours. “You gonna make love to me?” You ask softly, fingers caressing his lips.

“I am.” Marcus leans in and nudges his nose against yours. Pressing his lips to yours in a petal soft kiss before sliding his hand down to lift your thigh onto his hip. “Want to make sure you know exactly how I feel about you.”

You caress his shoulders, “show me.” You order, wanting to experience Marcus like this. After so many months of pining for him, watching him with Teresa. You finally have him and he’s taking his time to make sure you know how he feels. When he starts to move inside of you, it’s slow and you feel every ridge and vein of him. “Shit.” You pant, tilting your head back.

He keeps his lips on your skin. Trailing kisses up and down your throat as he slowly rocks into you. Just slow enough that you feel him move but he’s not even built up anything that could be considered a pace. Feeling like he’s home and relishing it.

You keep your head tilted back so he can kiss along it, making you sigh and your hands caress his shoulders before sliding up to his cheeks, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him. You wrap both your legs around him, wanting him to be even closer and he barely moves as your tongues slide against each other.

It’s like time doesn’t matter right here, and it doesn’t. The fatigue, the sorrow, the loneliness all evaporate as the two of you slowly move towards that pinnacle together. Almost more emotional than physical as he wants to stay buried inside you.

You shift your hips and Marcus moves a little faster, sensing what you need without you saying it, and you whimper when he shifts deeper inside of you. The pace is still leisurely and your lips hover against his, eyes closed as you breathe him in.

“Fuck, I love you.” Marcus promises, rocking slowly and tightening his hold on you. Feeling like he’s in Heaven. “This is- everything to me.”

“Me too.” You promise in return, caressing his shoulders and back as he rocks into you and he’s still in no rush. “You’re everything to me. You and Theo. My - my fucking world. Would do anything for either of you.” You vow, clenching around his cock.

He hums, knowing you mean every word you say. You have been nothing but truthful with him. Good to him when he didn’t deserve it and he’s honored that you fell in love with him.

When Marcus picks up the pace a little, you tighten your grip on him and can’t stop the little moans that escape your lips. “Oh God. Yes, right there.” You murmur, lost in the pleasure and the emotion as he pushes deep inside of you.

“There?” He grunts, biting his lip and concentrating to make sure that he makes you cum again. His arms brace his body up above you, still close as he works his cock in and out of your tight cunt. “Fuck, one more baby.” He begs. “Give me one more.”

You can’t speak as he hits the right spot over and over. Your stomach twists and your thighs tighten around him as he pushes deep until you are clamping down on his cock. Your head thrown back as you cum, gushing around him as a silent cry of his name graces your lips.

“Oh god, baby.” He groans, and presses his lips to yours as he starts to feel his own orgasm start to take over. “I love you, I love you so much.”

You watch him as he cums, his eyes squeezing shut as his jaw drops after he pulls back from you and you squeeze him within your walls, wanting to milk him for everything he has. Your hands caress his shoulders, sliding down his back. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” You promise against his chin .

Panting, Marcus smiles and kisses your lips again. “I can’t believe that we are here like this.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I think that the best thing I did was watch the drunk tank that night.”

You cup his cheek, “I think the best thing I did was go out to celebrate my graduation. It’s been - it’s been a wild journey but I wouldn’t change anything. I love you and Theo so much. My world. I want to be your wife, I want to have more of your babies. I want you. Forever. Marcus, I fucking love you.” You declare breathlessly and he grins, pecking your lips. 

“You’ll get everything you want because that’s what I want. You’re what I want. You and my Theo. You’re everything.” He promises and you pull him close, his cock still inside of you and you know that you were always meant to belong to Marcus and him to you. It took eleven years but you and Marcus are finally where you belong: together.

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike imagine

[jazeswhbhaven]

They Do What in Where?: Attack of Kings Beelzebub Prologue *Spoilers*

TW://kink involving Autassassinophilia is mentioned

Guys. Lovelies. Girlies. Peeps. Everyone. This is only the fucking prologue and I have so many emotions but only one thing on mind.

Fucking the ever-living s h i t out of Beel.

Welcome back to Avisos, everyone. We got a good dose of it during the Beel event, but yeah yeah

Beel sniffing MC will never surprise me nor will bother me because yeah sniff away.

Horny from smelling hair? I love him. He could literally smell anything on you and would get hard this is amazing to me

So what's going on rn is that MC and Beel are on some kind of date and he's showing them around Avisos and the little stores and such. He's like having so much fun and being very clingy. May I add.

MC keeps talking about him like this and I'm like Oh...yeah same brain cell because everything about him is u g h h h hgh hsoidnk

So let me get this straight. "Everything" is legal. Like think of the worst thing you can think of and that shit is legal here. BUT being a homewrecker is where they draw the line 💀 I'm just throwing this out here, TW btw, but imagine getting thrown in jail for seducing someone else's partner to be with you but the guy across the street that literally raped and murdered someone is walking around free.

I guess that's just Avisos??? Lol

Moving on though, MC and Beel are walking up to the first store and the sign says

NGL I thought this meant something else because it's BHM in the US (hey hey all of my blk peeps out there that follow!) and I had my own joke in my head about it...BUT it's its about fucking eating demon cum as a sauce.

That's a lot of fucking sauce.

Next we have

They don't even explain what the forest of mushrooms is about. MC just says "that's all about men..." (i can imagine it's literally a fucking store full of dick) and Beel goes to explain the shop that's next to it where you can drink demon spit that's been distilled.

He's even tried it a few times and there's not much to go around.

i can imagine why...

MC is pretty much worried about other shit though and wondering what was their end destination. And well-

Hello my angry bby, yes he would be mad.

Because apparently MC was having tea with Sitri and Ppyong and the tea was too strong so Ppyong was flipping out and that's when Beel made his entrance..

Just "HEY WHATS UP?" and took them away.

With his random ass, I love him.

When Beel gets this way I always wanna cuddle his face and give him praises and kisses and words of affirmation because I feel he needs to hear that he's loved and needed along with physical touch.

But MC also wonders why everyone else seems so chill that he's just walking around when they're normally flipping out that Beel is in town. Turns out he may (or may not) have put a spell on himself so no one notices him.

So my theory is, he's simply just diguised as a common looking devil of Avisos and not himself so that's why everyone is still running into him, bumping shoulders and not paying him any mind and MC is just MC.

Or...they both could be cloaked at the moment because I'm sure they'd recognize MC maybe...but I'm only going off how they interacted with MC during his Bloodshed card at the carnival. Also he starts sniffing up on MC again and it's getting him worked up so much...

Time after time, MC is always goddamn wet around him. Idk how he fucking does this or how he manages this, but it only happens with him and I love that quirk about their dynamic.

But honestly...the fact those are his three favorite places to smell has me wondering though if he likes unwashed parts (armpits/genitals) because there's a stronger smell, and during times when someone ovulates...if he likes that scent too.

UBIASJBFKJSABFKJSDNAKZJNFKAJSNFK JS HELP??????

I'm crying he's so fucking cute. He misses MC and that's why he's being so clingy and sniffing and being close and went to find them c h ok in fg

And MC starts going through the motions, even thinking about Minhyeok (HELLO WE ARE WITH BEEL RN FOCUS) and then finally tells him that they miss him too, and Beel is just all casual like "Yeah that's why I came to get you :D" c u t i e.

So they approach a store next where there's a knife, possibly surgical because Beel explains this

Ah, so this kinda debunks my theory that the demons here can just change their gender without any kind of surgery (you know just magically change or shapeshift that sort of thing) But it seems that the Avisos' devil's reason for swapping is for spicing up their relationships. Though, I'd like to think it's there for reasons of just devil's wanting to change their gender regardless.

Which Beel brings up "it doesn't matter if you're a man or woman, the devils of Avisos will love you either way" and it's like breaking the fourth wall for us players ^^ because they wouldn't care.

So now we're coming up on another store, and a picture of a noose shows up. Now, I made a joke to myself saying this is a fashion store for the devils of Hades...but uh seems this store is-

So I paused and was like...oh like those suicide assistance capsules we have IRL...?

And well...I didn't take all the screenshots but in short, it's a cafe that panders to those who get off on the act of dying/Asphyxiation/ being killed etc. I found the closest kink name for it: Autassassinophilia. (btw if someone else knows the closer exact name feel free to educate on this!) But yeah I was like huh, that's really not surprising that they have that there. It is Avisos. It is Hell.

Here's where it gets interesting tho-

OHHH the owner is one of Luci's bois? (probably not a noble from what it sounds like...but what if...)

And MC asks if that's okay for a devil that's not from Avisos to be having a store like that here and Beel is just like

LMAO POOR BAEL. Beel literally just lets him do everything and he can't be bothered to even know or care about the rules of his own country („ಡωಡ„)

So the date seems to come to a stopping point, and Beel calls it a "shelter". Well..

First I turned the sound on (I keep it off if there's no voice acting involved) and well the sounds from chapter one's porno thing MC was watching was used for the devil guy and chick that are randomly fucking in the "shelter" when MC and Beel first enter.

MC is literally me because they're like "Oh uh I think we're in the wrong place." And Beel's like :D NOPE!

And then there's also me, noticing that the couch is covered in fucking whatever and I'm like

im sorry that's fucking nasty please clean the damn couch 💀💀💀💀

So the reason he tells MC to say this...is because he slips their shirt off just all casual like and is teasing "Oh were you trying to help me???" YOU LITTLE SHIT YOU AIN'T SLICK. (lovingly)

This is the last screenshot I took because anything else was mostly just MC being like "wow so uh this is about to happen isn't it..." and then it cuts out as the end of the prologue.

BTW what I learned by getting the Bloodshed cards and having read the prologues to them beforehand, they literally give us the first story node in the unholy board to read so one could pretty much skip reading it when they unlock it (unless they didn't take a peek at the prologue but that's just my observation)

I'm personally gonna wait until they make it in the regular gacha pool, but I did peep that the first 10 pull is half the amount of seals...which is a good tactic to getting folks to pull with the seals. I'm saving them up though for something I reallllyyyyy want possibly a Lucifer card or something in the future. But already....Beel's is making me feel some things and seeing his sprite with that tank top is having me act the fuck up.

ANYWAYS happy pulling everyone ^^ see you when I do Levi's prologue next~

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #whb spoilers #whb screencaps #new card stuff! #beel is so damn hot i can't #i laugh at stupid shit sometimes i swear #tw kink mention #cw bodily fluids

[nexysworld]

Summary: While away on a business trip, your hybrid boyfriend decides to surprise you upon your return home. Pairing: Hybrid!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, use of sex toys, pussy eating, hybrid smut

Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Ask Box

A/N: I dedicate this one shot to Kenny @dollfacefantasy. She's the best, you should check out her writing, without her inspiration this one shot wouldn't have been possible. Love you Kenken!!

Honorable mentions to @explorevenus, @kaitkatme, and @gigabyte-flare for supporting my work and being awesome too! Also @ghostkennedy and @tosuckmyweenis <3

For the longest time a hybrid hadn’t been something you considered getting, but recently having to relocate for work, you found yourself often feeling lonely hauled up in your apartment each night. Toying with the idea of a traditional pet, it just didn’t seem like the exact type of companionship you were looking for –  you needed something more. The concept of a hybrid was just so strange to you though, they were sentient, capable of nearly all things people were, but spliced with animals to aid in things like companionship and work. 

There’d been a lot of back and forth in the media between whether or not hybrids were ethical to begin with in addition to if adopting them was even morally correct as well. It was something you hadn’t put much thought into until you stumbled into the local shelter one day, peering around. 

The best way to describe it was like a jail– if each cell was its own little apartment. The cement walls and flooring, along with the barred doors were very reminiscent of a traditional shelter, but inside each room were individual hybrids with their own little decorated room. As you walked by, most ran up to you, tails wagging, excitement written on their face as they shouted greetings at you. 

Puppy hybrids with their tails wagging like helicopters, cats with their ears twitching eyes narrowing as you passed them – even bunnies bouncing up and down at the prospect of an owner. As adorable as it was, none of them really caught your eye, at least not enough to commit to taking home. 

Close to the end of the fluorescently lit hallway, you found what you almost thought was an empty kennel until your eye caught the glimpse of someone sitting in the corner. He was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, sky blue eyes, a face framed by fluffy blonde hair. The bomber jacket he wore suited him so well. “Leon, huh?” You asked, after peering over at the informational plaque on the wall. 

The sound of your voice caught his attention as he shot you a weak smile in return. “Uh yeah, that’s me alright.” “I like that name.” Glancing back over to the plaque you could see that he previously worked for the government, was well behaved, and was good at adapting. “Leon, how would you feel about coming home with me?” His cool demeanor didn’t change, but you could see the shocked written on his face, there only for a second before his iced it back over with his neutral expression. “Are you for real?” “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

Hesitantly, he made his way over to the bars that separated you two, tilting his head to the side he looked you up and down processing for a moment. Finally a smirk came over his plush lips. “If you’re sure, I’d be happy to keep you company.” 

***************

That was three years ago. 

Since then Leon had become more than a close companion to you. His corny jokes and dry sense of humor lived rent free in your head any moment you were away from home. Loneliness was a thing of the past when you could curl up with him on the couch and fall asleep to the ambient sound of the tv playing in the background.  Leon had opened himself up to you as well, explaining that unlike most hybrids he wasn’t born this way. Several years back he had to escape from a place called Raccoon City after a massive bio disaster occurred – you’d never even heard of that place before, but the seriousness in his voice had silenced any questions or lingering doubt. After said incident, was when he was forced into a government program, trained to be a federal agent. Once his contract was over with, he could no longer return to a regular human-lived life, the shelter was the only other option.  His story made your heart ache, but you settled on being content with the idea of finally being able to provide him with a happy home filled with love and relaxation.

At some point, not that you could remember when exactly, your relationship had changed. There was an unspoken tension that neither of you dared act on, until it built and built into a volcanic level eruption between you. One bad day at work was all it took for him to have you bent over the couch, rutting into your wet folds with abandon as you cried his name out, desperately clawing at the furniture beneath you. Suffice it to say, Leon became your companion in more ways than one. 

***************

The moment the front door swung open you nearly tackled him to the ground in a hug. “God I’ve missed you, Lee.” “Missed you too baby.” He said with a chuckle, wrapping you into a tight hug. It’d only been a week, but that business trip had lasted far too long in your opinion. The only saving grace was you managed to get back to town just in time for your official one year anniversary of dating.

Finally letting go of him, you stood back and gasped once you really got a good look at him. “Lee where’s your–?” He cut off your question with a deep kiss, pulling away before pressing another to your cheek. “Shhh baby, no questions yet. Not when I have a present for you.” 

You wanted to protest but the excitement in his eyes prevented you from doing anything but following him down the hall, now laced with pink and red flower petals, to the bedroom. Excitement flurried around your stomach as you barely contained your giddiness. 

The bedroom was dimly lit and the scents of lavender and vanilla wafted into your nose, the bedding had been swapped out for a satiny red set. In the dead center was a heart shaped box, a huge bow on the top. 

Leon stepped out of the way so you could move forward. “Go on, open it.” 

Hesitantly you pulled one end of the ribbon undoing the bow, carefully pulling the lid off. By now you could feel Leon’s hot breath on your neck as his hands came up around you, cupping your breasts through your shirt. “Faster baby, I wanna see you get to the good part.”

“Ok, ok!” You exclaimed shuddering under his touch, wetness already forming a spot in your panties. Parting the tissue paper inside the box, there it was an ivory colored dildo. Confusion hit you first as you gently picked it up. It looked exactly like Leon’s, from the thick shaft even down to the shape of the balls, decorative swirls and designs were carved into it, giving it a ribbed texture. The material wasn’t something you recognized initially, as the outward coating made it feel like glass, until it hit you. “Leon… is this?” “Sure is.” He replied nuzzling into your neck again, sucking a bruise into the skin. The feeling of his whiskers always sent delightful tingles down your spine. “Didn’t want you to have to miss me while you’re away anymore.” 

“But your tusks?” “They grow back.” He said nonchalantly, turning you to face him. “What do you think? I carved it myself.” “Lee, it’s beautiful…god I can’t wait to try it out.” “Why wait?” A devious smirk came to his lips as he pushed you back onto the bed. “Wanna see you enjoy your present.” Leaning on top of you he brought his lips to yours one more time before sitting up to yank your bottoms down, pulling your panties along with them. 

He wasted no time in yanking you towards him, legs tossed over his shoulders as he dove into you like it was the first meal he’s had since you’d been away – lapping a line through your soaked folds. The thick whiskers tickled at your thighs, making you squirm against his flattened tongue, the mix of pleasure and tingles making you whine. “There we go baby, so wet and ready.”  He pressed a teasing kiss to your clit before pulling back just enough to reach over and grab the tusky dildo from you clenched hand. He held it against your folds, running it up and down, swirling the tip over your clit making you jolt as firecrackers of pleasure sparked from your core to your fingertips. 

He slid it into your hole slowly, careful to not hurt you and to allow you to feel each ribbed indentation before it was bottomed out to the base. “That’s it baby, that’s my good girl.” He cooed, pumping it in and out of your hot little pussy setting a rhythmic pace. He marveled at the way your back arched and head tossed back before he returned to lapping his tongue over your clit, in tandem with the movement of the present in his hand.  The overwhelming sense of pleasure coupled with your neediness for him made you grasp at his blonde locks to ground yourself. Toes curling with the oncoming orgasm that was so close, you choked out a cry, tight walls clenching around the porcelain coated tusk buried in you. It was a sensation like no other, and soon the pressure that built up exploded – white splotches filled your vision and your legs shook as pleasure consumed you in waves. Little aftershocks tickled along your skin, nerves a livewire.

He left the toy inside of you as he began to kiss his way up, first your thighs then your hip, before planning a kiss to your tummy. This time the feeling of his whiskers pulling a giggle out of you between panted attempts at returning your breathing to normal. Stopping for a moment only at your chest, he gripped your shirt that he’d pushed up before lapping at one pebbled nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth.

He pulled off with a pop capturing your lips once more in a tender kiss. “Happy anniversary baby.”  “Happy anniversary.” You replied, bringing your thumb up to rub over the spot where his tusks had been shaved down. The skin surrounding the ivory mounds was soft, leaving only the flattened discs of where his tusks used to be. Leaning up you gave him a kiss on his flattened nose. “My handsome little Walrus.”

#Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy x you #Leon Kennedy x y/n #Leon s kennedy #Leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #hybrid!leon #hybrid leon kennedy #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #Leon Kennedy fanfiction

[hollandorks]

in flames

battisnon! bruce wayne x CEO! vigilante! reader

summary: The reader encounters the Batman when stealing information from a murdered man one night. The next day at a meeting to merge her business with Wayne Enterprises, she meets Bruce Wayne for the first time--and he has a cut on his face exactly like the one she gave the Batman. When sparks fly, will they go down in flames?

a/n: look it's me back with another "oneshot" in which I'm too long winded! This one's smutty and full of banter--enjoy! (and yes I do have to use this gif whenever there's something sexy in the content oops)

***not affiliated with middle of the night***

*content is NSFW. 18+*

word count: 10,497

The window opened with barely a creak. Y/n slipped through carefully, quietly, every one of her senses on high alert. 

Getting caught at an active crime scene would be a terrible look for her company, to say the least. Especially the night before a huge meeting about a potential merger. 

But that part of her that had always existed–the part that fought against injustice, no matter how big or small, the part that used her position in life for good–wouldn’t let this rest. 

A man had been murdered, after all. 

A man who was a murderer himself. A man who hurt people, repeatedly, for his own gain. 

She left the window open the barest crack in case she needed to make a quick getaway, but  still closed enough that it didn’t look like it had been tampered with. She’d learned that lesson the hard way over the years she’d been doing this. 

She waited a beat in the silence of the night to make sure nothing was stirring. 

The penthouse apartment was utterly quiet. 

She knew from a couple of hours of observation that there was only one cop posted outside the apartment door and another in the lobby. She guessed they hadn’t expected anyone to come in from the roof. And hadn’t that been how the Riddler had gotten in to kill the mayor the year before? GCPD were never going to learn. 

Y/n bit back a sigh. A year, and things in Gotham were still shit. 

Well, she was working on that. Not only did she shore up charitable donations in the city, but she also had taken notes from the Batman and decided to take matters into her own hands–in secret of course. She did good work with her money and her company by day, and a different sort of work by night in disguise. 

While she didn’t have the gadgets or physical strength like Batman did, she had her own set of skills. Namely, plenty of friends in places both low and high, willing to help her out because they all owed her favors. She dealt in secrets, and secrets were what led to real change in the city.

Not violence. Not death. Not even good, old-fashioned police work. 

Secrets from the right person leveraged in the right way wrought change with little effort.

And secrets were what she was currently after. 

The man who’d been murdered–a former city councilman who had just announced his run for Senate and his plan to eventually run for president–was scum just like all the powerful people the Riddler had murdered a year before. 

Y/n didn’t condone murder, but she did believe in bringing the darkness into the light. That part of the Riddler’s manifesto, at least, she could get behind. As fucking crazy as the guy was, she really couldn’t blame him for wanting to correct some of the shitstorm that was the city of Gotham. His methods had been all wrong, though. She didn’t hurt anybody. She merely told the truth about them. 

It was pure chance that her target had been murdered. There had been a string of robberies in the upper class neighborhood–and this time, the apartment hadn’t been empty as expected. The thieves had killed him in their surprise. It had always been her plan to rob the man, just not his valuables. She was after his secrets so she could expose him and ruin his political career. 

Now one man was dead and the thief turned murderer was in a jail cell. The city was lauding one and villainizing the other. But they didn’t know what she knew, what she was seeking to reveal to the city at large. 

Y/n knew the truth. Not only was the Senate campaign paid for with all kinds of dirty money, but that money had also been stolen from all kinds of charities–several of which y/n was directly involved with and one she had started herself. 

Even if she hadn’t been involved in the aforementioned charities, her blood would have curdled at every other secret this former councilman had hidden. The skeletons in his closet were overflowing, all clambering over each other, multiplying the more she dug. 

And apparently, the man was old fashioned and had several paper copies of his nefarious dealings hidden in a personal safe. The police had checked the other safe, the one the thief had been trying to get into when he shot the former councilman. All along there had been another, smaller, much more important safe underneath the man’s desk. 

It was this safe y/n aimed for. 

She bent underneath the desk and got to work picking the lock. 

It took nearly ten minutes, not her best work, but finally the damn thing opened with a soft click. Sadly, her informant hadn’t known the code, but y/n was adept at safe cracking and lock picking.

Every hair on the back of her neck rose. 

It was instinct born of her nightly activities, or it was the soft movement of air as someone snuck through the apartment, or maybe it was the barest sound of a shoe against the hardwood. Somehow, she very suddenly knew she wasn’t alone.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She whirled and threw one of the many knives on her at the person sneaking up behind her. The aim was to scare, not to kill. In the same moment, she grabbed everything from the hidden safe and tucked it under her arm. 

The knife nicked the side of the Batman’s jaw as he easily stepped out of the way. 

Shit, she thought, because she had expected another thief or maybe a cop. And he was close, closer than she’d expected. 

She hadn’t expected Gotham’s favorite vigilante to be right behind. 

The Batman didn’t hesitate either. He darted forward so fast she barely saw more than a blur of shadow. With a curse out loud this time, she dodged, hip banging painfully against the corner of the desk as she moved out of the way. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said in a low voice.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” the masked man said. They were both keeping as quiet as possible. She didn’t think either of them would want the cop outside knowing someone had broken into the apartment. 

He lunged. She ducked under his arm and kicked at the back of his knee. He grunted but didn’t go down. She frowned but had no time to alter course before his hand grabbed her upper arm and yanked. All of the papers she’d taken scattered across the floor. 

Y/n chopped at his elbow, hand stinging as it connected to whatever his armor was made out of. 

“Ow,” she muttered as she tried to release herself from his tight grip. Damn, he was strong. She aimed a kick towards his balls but his free hand caught her ankle. Now he had her arm and her leg. She bared her teeth at him and forced herself closer to take him off guard. He wasn’t easily fooled, though, and only held her tighter. 

“I’m not stealing, you fucker,” she hissed. Her chest pressed up against the hard planes of armor. Batman stared down at her, eyes almost blank underneath the mask. He was taller and broader than her, and showed no signs of his grip lessening. 

“Then why did you take papers out of that safe?” he asked in a gravelly baritone that made her shiver. She hadn’t realized that the Batman was…kind of hot. 

“Take a look at them and you’ll see why.” She wriggled again but he didn’t let go. 

He stared down at her for a long moment. Finally, he moved enough to bend over and gather up the papers with one hand. His other hand still had her by the wrist. 

“I’m not going to run,” she said with an annoyed sigh. “I’m doing what you do–fixing corruption.” 

The vigilante straightened and glanced at the topmost paper in his hand. He frowned. 

“Is this all true?” 

She craned her neck to see what, exactly, he was looking at. 

“Yes, it’s all true.” She gave up trying to get out of his hold. He was too strong, too fast. “That’s all I was after. I have a contact at GC1 news I was going to send it to. Make it public that this guy was a piece of shit who’s better off dead.” 

Batman simply stared at her. The cut across his jaw was shallow but bleeding steadily. 

“Then why break in?” he finally asked. 

“Why’d you break in?” she countered. His grip loosened slightly. She silently began to count down. She didn’t want this asshole taking her hard-earned information to the police or anyone else. She wanted it public and she needed the papers in his gloved hands in order to do so. 

“I’m investigating,” he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “And catching thieves.” 

“I’m not a thief!” 

She used his distraction to yank her hand back, grab the papers, and dart away. 

Batman caught her by the suit at the scruff of her neck. 

Rage welled up inside y/n and she struck out with her leg. In the same movement she twisted to face him. Her foot connected with his chest. He barely moved. He didn’t make a sound, either, as if she was simply an insect bothering him. 

“If you’re not a thief,” he said while blocking the blow from her fist. She kept backing up towards the window she’d left cracked, even as they exchanged a flurry of blows. “Then why did you break in? Why did you throw a knife?” 

She almost winced. “You snuck up on me, okay? You were closer than I thought. I wasn’t aiming to hit you.” 

“But you were aiming to steal.” Again, he caught her by the ankle as she tried to kick him. She growled as she was forced to hop on her other foot to remain balanced. 

“Yes, we went over this. Nothing else nefarious is going on.” She crossed her heart with her free hand for emphasis. 

Quicker than she thought possible, the Batman released her foot. It knocked her off balance and she stumbled. 

He pulled off her mask. 

Her heart stopped. She froze, panting heavily from their little bit of sparring, and stared at him in fear. 

“Don’t–” she said, but no other words would come. 

“I’m keeping this,” he said as he held up the mask. “Do what you want with those papers. Then stop breaking into places.” 

He had her mask. He was looking her dead in the eyes. She might not have been easily recognizable like other wealthy CEOs in Gotham, but if her merger with Wayne Enterprises went through the next day…her picture would be everywhere. And then he’d know who she was. 

She half-snarled and darted towards her mask. The Batman easily kept it out of her reach. 

“Give it back!” she said in a voice that was much too loud. 

They both froze as the apartment door clicked–a key in the lock. 

Shit, the cop was coming to check on them. 

She and the Batman exchanged a glance. 

Her mind tripped over itself trying to get past her fight, flight, or freeze instincts all warring for attention. She needed her mask, but if she got caught…it was over. 

Fuck it, she had to leave the mask. 

“Fucker,” she mumbled to the other vigilante as she fled for the window. He didn’t stop her. 

As she closed it behind her, she chanced a glance in the window. The Batman was gone. A cop was walking through, shining his flashlight over every shadow. 

Y/n stared for a beat longer. 

Then she scrambled up to the roof to grab her things and run like hell. 

First she had information to leak to the press. Then she had a board meeting to prepare for. At least she had the files now. 

She could get revenge against that asshole vigilante some other time. 

–

Y/n dressed carefully for her meeting the next morning. It never hurt to dress to impress, she reasoned. She needed to look strong, capable, but not dowdy. Men were simple creatures and she figured Bruce Wayne was no different. If she could impress him, the merger would go through. 

Her pantsuit was simple and black, tailored to perfectly accent her body. Underneath she wore a red silk shirt–red for power, red for purpose. Red to match her favorite lipstick. 

The news played in the background as she finished her makeup and hair. The information she’d given the news was already everywhere. She tried not to feel too smug, but it was hard. She’d taken that bastard’s reputation down, sent it to hell where it and he belonged. And now investigations were starting–investigations that would hopefully help the people he wronged. That would give money back to the charities and families he had stolen from. 

She was so focused on her triumph that she didn’t have time to be angry at the asshole vigilante who’d stolen her mask. She could get another one made–but it would take a while. It was custom made, bulletproof and made to perfectly fit her face. Maybe this time she’d request it hook to her suit, too, that way it wouldn’t be so easy to steal next time. 

She and her team were the first ones in the boardroom at Wayne Enterprises. They were early, but only by a few minutes. She shuffled her papers quietly and pulled up the current contract on her laptop. They would be discussing terms in that meeting and hopefully everyone would win. In another tab she had cost and profit projections in neat little graphs. 

Merging with Wayne Enterprises was going to change her life. Her business would thrive even more, have more reach, be able to give more to charity. She knew Bruce Wayne liked charitable giving–his parents had been philanthropists and he had started a relief. She had made sure to include all this in her pros and cons list that she’d emailed the Wayne CEO at the beginning of the merger talks. 

“Good morning,” said a member of the Wayne Enterprises board from the doorway. She and her team stood and started shaking hands. 

Bruce Wayne was the last one in the door. He didn’t shake anyone’s hand, merely went to the opposite end of the conference table from y/n. 

As they all sat, Bruce Wayne looked up and met her gaze. 

They both startled. 

Recognition flitted across his face before he could hide it. 

Her own mouth parted in shock. 

Bruce Wayne had a long cut across one side of his jaw. A cut that perfectly matched the one she’d given a certain vigilante the night before.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman. 

–

“–not saying that we shouldn’t, but after all the bad luck with the Riddler last year–” 

Bruce Wayne interrupted y/n with a growl in his voice. “Bad luck? Bad luck? He’s a psychopath who murdered people and blew up half the city! It’s not–” 

“You know what I meant!” she shot right back. 

There had been a moment, at the beginning of the meeting, where everyone was introduced and the terms of the contract were read aloud and y/n and Bruce had simply stared at each other. The moment stretched into silence, and all she could think was, Holy fucking shit. 

Bruce Wayne was the Batman. 

It had devolved from there. 

Bruce had immediately shot down several of the terms she had insisted on, which pissed her off. Her rebuttal had been appropriately angry, which had pissed him off. Every beat of her heart had her more and more worried he’d reveal her identity and she’d be fired on the spot. 

After half an hour, they’d argued about several things, and she finally started to stop worrying about him outing her. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t piss her off with every word out of his mouth. 

Now, here they were, half-shouting at each other from across the long table, both of them the only ones standing. Bruce had his hands flat on the table as he shot daggers at her with his eyes and his words. She stood with a hand on her hip, just as angry as she was. 

The worst part was, they’d been using an intermediary to even draft the contract they were there to discuss. And now he suddenly had a bunch of issues with it? It was in his fucking favor. 

There was a soft clearing of a throat that shut them both up mid bickering. 

“I think we should table this for the day,” said the intermediary. She was pretty sure he wasn’t there to act as a literal mediator. “We can reconvene at the same time tomorrow. Why don’t we have both sides draw up new proposals in the meantime.” 

Everyone was staring at them, at their behavior, and it only served to piss her off more. 

“Well I’m okay with getting this finished today,” y/n said petulantly. She glared at Bruce Wayne. 

“Let’s table it,” he said as he glared right back. She had a feeling that he was only saying that to disagree with her, not because he actually thought it was a bad idea. 

She ground her teeth together so hard she was pretty sure the whole table could hear it. “Fine, same time tomorrow.” 

She was too angry to feel embarrassed at her squabbling with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises like two rival schoolchildren. Not only had this fucker taken her mask, but he also was trying to fuck her with her company too. All this work she’d put into the contract, into the merger, and he was blowing it off like it was nothing.

She stormed out of the room without another word, headed straight for the elevator, and muttered curse words under her breath the entire way. It didn’t help her feel better, but she had to blow off some of the steam rising in her somehow or she was going to burst into angry flames and take down the whole building, his apartments included.

Inside the elevator, she took a deep breath. She’d have to rewrite the entire contract, which would probably take all night. The only thing that made her feel better was that Bruce Wayne had to do the same thing if he wanted any of his terms put up for consideration. 

She imagined him in his full Batman costume pouring over the contracts and snorted to herself. Of course, he probably just had someone do it for him and send it to him to review, but the mental image cheered her slightly. 

As if her thoughts had conjured him, a hand caught the closing elevator doors, and in stepped Bruce Wayne. 

The doors slid closed beside them. 

Y/n had to bite her lip to keep from making a rude comment. There were several of them warring to get out at once. 

“Mr. Wayne,” she said instead, but she let all of the built up anger and venom come through her words. 

He put his hands in his suit pockets and sighed. She had to admit, even as mad as he made her, he looked damn good. He was wearing a tailored dark blue suit that made his blue eyes pop. His long, dark hair was tousled as if he’d woken up right before coming to the meeting. He was tall, his shoulders broad, and his damn jawline was so sharp it looked like it had cut itself with the damage her knife had inflicted. And the cut along the jaw just made it worse–he looked mysterious, handsome, like he was full of secrets waiting to be discovered. Which, she guessed, he was. 

He stared down at her, back ramrod straight, and seemed to grow in the small space. He reached a hand out and without looking hit a button that made the elevator stop. 

She simply waited. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. 

Bruce leaned in very close–close enough that she could smell whatever fresh scent of shampoo or deodorant he used. It was a masculine scent that made her pulse jump as he got close enough for her to feel his breath. 

“If you tell anyone,” he said in a voice that definitely dredged up all sorts of images of darkness and shadows and bat wings. It also made her think of silk sheets and shadowy beds. 

Feeling bold, y/n stepped closer. Their chests brushed now. “Is this a threat, Mr. Wayne?” 

Something flashed in his eyes and her traitorous body decided to get really, really turned on. His jaw clenched so tightly she expected to hear an audible snap. She could practically see his internal struggle not to be an asshole and it made her want to laugh. It was almost too easy to rile him up. 

He took a step back, expression suddenly vulnerable. “It would be…very bad for me, and those close to me…if you told anyone. So, please. Just don’t–please.” 

She softened a little. She hadn’t expected the please. “Hey, I’ve got a big secret too, remember? I won’t tell.” He gave a single sharp nod. “I want my mask back,” she added. 

“No,” he said as he leaned against the elevator wall. She could see their reflections in the shiny metallic ceiling. He was a blur of dark blue, she a pop of red. Opposites, of course.

“Why the fuck not?” she asked. She crossed her arms again. The softness she’d felt towards him was completely gone just like that. 

Bruce straightened and got into her space again. Granted, it might not have been on purpose since he was so tall and the elevator was small. He lowered his voice, eyes flickering to her red lips, and said, “To keep you out of trouble.” 

Y/n had no excuse for what happened next. As if possessed, she matched his step forward and let her hand slide up his chest to his shoulder. He swallowed hard, seemingly nervous. 

“I can get into all kinds of trouble without the mask,” she murmured. Her eyes traced his lips this time. 

And maybe it was because he was handsome and he was there. Maybe it was because they shared so many similarities. Or maybe she wanted to one up him somehow, and knew this would do the trick. 

No matter the reason, y/n stretched up and captured Bruce Wayne’s mouth with her own. 

He froze for a second, going unnaturally still, before he seemed to shake it off. 

She couldn’t help the small groan that escaped when his tongue traced her bottom lip or the one that slipped out when he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. One of her hands slipped inside his suit jacket while the other tangled in his hair. He groaned this time, and it went straight through her like a meteor, lighting her on fire as it went. 

Her back bumped against the cold elevator wall, the railing digging into her, and she let herself be lifted so her ass sat on top of it. It was barely big enough to balance on, but provided enough leverage for Bruce to slide between her legs. She could feel his arousal press against her, right where she wanted him, and she couldn’t help the small shift of her hips. 

Bruce grabbed her tighter. 

She bit his lower lip and grinned when he jerked back. 

“That was for being a jerk earlier,” she said. 

He stared down at her. His dark hair was mussed. The blackness of his pupils had almost overtaken the bright blue. 

Y/n lifted her hips to grind against him. His breath shook, eyelids fluttering closed. He felt so good against her like this, warm and strong and solid. 

But then he let go and stepped away from her. He straightened his suit and wiped her lipstick off of his own mouth. 

“Was it something I said?” she asked, teasing to cover up the hurt that was stinging through her like small thorns. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. He jabbed the same button from earlier and the elevator lurched into motion once more. 

She frowned at him. He didn’t bother looking at her. “So you’re going to leave me and my business high and dry?” 

No answer. She scoffed. “And here I thought you were different from the typical rich man.” 

His shoulders stiffened but he still didn’t say a word. Above their heads, the elevator counted down as they slowly got closer and closer to the ground floor. 

“Don’t you live in the penthouse?” she asked with another frown, distracted from her annoyance by the descending numbers. 

“Yes,” he said, but didn’t elaborate. 

“Then let’s go up there so you can give me my damn mask back.”

The elevator dinged as they reached the lobby. 

“No,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped out. 

She watched him stride away on impossibly long legs. 

“Fuck,” she said, half annoyed with him, half with herself. She wanted to chase after him and slap some sense into him. Or chase after him and kiss him again. Her whole body tingled from the adrenaline of their meeting followed by quite possibly the best kiss she’d ever had. 

And he still wouldn’t give her damn mask back. 

With another soft growl of frustration, she stepped out of the elevator. She had no choice but to head home and start working on the damn contract. That, and she had to order a replacement mask. Hopefully her supplier still had her measurements on file. 

– 

The next morning, y/n decided to do something stupid. 

She left two hours early for their makeup merger meeting and stopped at the reception desk with her most winning smile. 

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “They messed up my order this morning so I have an extra latte. Do you want it?” 

“Oh–Yeah, sure, thanks. I was running late this morning so I haven’t had time to get coffee,” the young girl said. She took the proffered coffee and inhaled deeply with a soft sound of appreciation. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was free.” She smiled again. It definitely hadn’t been free and was, in fact, part of her stupid plan. “I’m just heading up to see Mr. Wayne. He forgot to give me the code to get up there. I don’t think he’s awake yet.” She winked and laughed. “We’re going over this merger contract some more before we bring all the big boys in on it.” 

She waved a file folder in the air. It was a copy of her amended contract, to be fair. And she did want to talk to Bruce about it. But she also wanted to maybe snoop around and get her mask back and maybe also find out where he hid his Batman armor. 

“Sure, no problem,” the receptionist said cheerfully. She scribbled a note with one hand and sipped her coffee with the other. Y/n relaxed. She thought for sure she’d be told a very firm no. She’d imagined Bruce being summoned from the top of the tower to come curse her out in front of all of his employees. She supposed being a CEO in her own right made it easier to get into a forbidden space. Hell, this girl probably thought she and Bruce were going to go over the contract naked. 

And wasn’t that an idea. 

Y/n thanked the girl and practically skipped to the private elevator she was directed to. It gave her no small amount of joy to get one up on Bruce again. She spent the whole long ride up to the penthouse smiling as she imagined the look on his face when she interrupted his breakfast. 

She knew it was stupid–really, she did. The merger was tentative now because of their show in the boardroom and she was sure their kiss hadn’t helped matters at all. 

She didn’t stop and question why she was doing this or what she hoped to get out of it. Mostly she wanted to bother Bruce, get her mask back, and maybe, hopefully iron out some of the kinks in the merger plan. She had a feeling they would both be better without an audience. 

The elevator made no noise as it slid to a stop and opened its doors. 

Y/n stopped in her tracks. 

Wayne Tower’s penthouse was…like the inside of a gothic church. The ceilings were tall and sweeping, full of detailed arches, sculptures, and well, a lot of dust. 

“Hello,” said a soft, accented voice. She turned and saw an aging man with a cane, his salt and pepper hair styled perfectly neat, his clothes pressed and clean. “Is Mr. Wayne…expecting you?” 

She didn’t miss the way his hand strayed to his side and the telltale bulge underneath his shirt. He was armed. His expression was polite, kind even, but there was a glint in his eyes that said he meant business. 

She held up her trusty file folder. “I came to go over some stuff about the merger. I’m y/n. I don’t know if he told you about uh…our argument in the meeting yesterday, so I’m here to apologize and smooth things over.” She shrugged as if sheepish. 

“The day you apologize is the day my father becomes mayor,” said a familiar voice. 

She turned, and there was Bruce. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and nothing else, running a towel over his damp hair. She hated that her entire body reacted to the sight of him shirtless. He was muscular. Scarred, too, but it made sense with his nightly activities. 

Her mouth was too dry to talk. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Well, you better get out the confetti because I really am here to say I’m sorry.” Okay, maybe it hadn’t actually been part of her plan but…she could say two little words in exchange for saving the merger. 

Bruce and the older man exchanged a look. Bruce made a dismissive wave. The man nodded once and disappeared down a hallway. 

They stared at each other in silence. Bruce slung the towel over one bare shoulder. She tried not to stare, she really did, but it was next to impossible. God, did he have to be so fucking good looking on top of everything else? 

“How’d you get in here?” Bruce finally asked. He crossed his arms, which only served to show off his biceps and pectorals. 

Stop staring! y/n mentally shouted at herself. She tore her eyes away and met his gaze. 

“I flirted with the receptionist,” she said. She was rewarded with Bruce’s shock. He opened and then abruptly closed his mouth before he schooled his expression. 

“Poor Stella,” he said after a beat. 

She couldn’t help her laugh. “I bought her coffee and told her the truth. I came to talk about the contract. And…okay, maybe I wasn’t going to apologize, but I did intend to smooth things over. That counts for something, right?” 

Bruce’s lips compressed like he was trying not to smile. “I should have let Alfred shoot you.” 

She let out a startled laugh. “I did sneak into your home, so…” 

“Well, come on then,” Bruce said, gesturing for her to follow him. 

“Where are we going?” she asked uncertainly. 

“We’re going to have breakfast and go over the damn contract.” 

“And you’re going to give in to all of my demands and grovel at my feet, right?” she said to his unfairly muscled back. 

He turned his head just enough that she could see his arched eyebrow. 

“Hey, it was worth a shot.” 

Breakfast went well, at first. She and Bruce joked together like they were old friends as they ate. He told her about the time he’d snuck out on break from college and had tried to sneak back in, only for Alfred to catch him and threaten to shoot him. 

Then the talk shifted to business, and they started arguing all over again. She shouldn’t have brought up the controversial Renewal Fund, she knew that, but it had been an accident. An accident that pissed Bruce off, apparently. 

“I’m just saying that we should have more checks and balances,” she said through gritted teeth as Alfred cleared their plates. He was Bruce’s butler, apparently, though he seemed more like an uncle or something. 

“I don’t disagree,” Bruce said. He rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb. 

“You are literally disagreeing!” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. 

“Not about that!” 

“Then what? That the Renewal Fund wasn’t used to fund the corrupt? That it wasn’t an absolute shit show?” She tapped her pointer finger on the table with every other word. 

Bruce stared at her. “All of that is true.” 

“You are so–” She made a frustrated noise. “So fucking annoying!” 

“If you would listen to me for a moment, maybe you wouldn’t get so frustrated.” He glared at her between his fingers as he continued rubbing at what was apparently a massive headache caused by her. 

“I am listening! I don’t–I mean, come on, you run around dressed as a bat every night to try and make a goddamn difference in the city. And now suddenly your morals change?” She smacked her hand against the wood table so hard it hurt. “Of course I’m frustrated.” 

Bruce’s gaze went flat. “That has no bearing on what I do in my company,” he finally said after a long pause. 

She inhaled deeply. “Shouldn’t it, though?” 

“What are you saying?” Both of his palms were pressed flat on the table. Every line of him was rigid as if he were about to snap. 

“Jesus, if you’d chill for a second,” she muttered, then straightened. “I’m saying that my company is charitable. That’s one of our core values. We hire the underprivileged, we give back to the community, we work to build up Gotham brick by brick. And what does Wayne Enterprises do? Give to charity once or twice a year? Sometimes help with relief funds where there’s a flood caused by a psychopath?” 

“You’re saying you don’t think this will work because I’m not charitable enough?” Disbelief colored his tone even though his face remained carefully neutral. His nostrils flared though as he breathed in deep and let it out, the only sign she was truly getting under his skin. “Because I shut down the Renewal Fund?” 

“I know what you do every night. I commend it. It’s–actually pretty fucking amazing. But that’s only one thing. Bruce Wayne, CEO, can do…so much more in the light of day. Why do you think I do both, too? So all I’m saying is, maybe if we join forces….we can really make a change. At night and during the day. You understand?” 

Bruce stood abruptly and started pacing. “You shouldn’t be doing that kind of stuff.” 

“Neither should you,” she said dryly. “And that’s not stopping you.” 

Bruce paused in his pacing. He opened his mouth but she interrupted, her annoyance rising all over again. 

“I swear if you say it’s different for you, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll forget your name.” 

He closed his mouth again. 

“Seriously,” she said. She stood to better face him. “You’ve got some kind of weird savior complex going on and it’s getting on my nerves.” 

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Savior complex?” 

“Yes!” She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child. 

“And you’re qualified to comment on this after–” He pretended to check a watch he wasn’t wearing. “Only knowing me for about thirty-two hours?” 

“You’re not as much of a mystery as you like to think, Mr. Wayne. You run around every night and yes, you do plenty for the city. But you think you have to do it alone. I don’t know if it’s because you think you’re better than anyone else or what, but newsflash–other people want to help Gotham too.” She crossed her arms again and stared him down. His eyes narrowed. “Other people can help Gotham.” 

“It’s dangerous,” he finally said after a long minute of glaring at each other. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” she said. She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes that went along with the words. “I’m not hurting anyone. Hell, I usually wait until places are empty to steal information. That’s what I deal with–secrets and information. I’m barely in danger.”

“How do I know you won’t steal information from me?”

She grit her teeth. “Are you doing anything illegal? Other than, you know, being a vigilante, I mean. I don’t care about that.” 

“No.” His jaw flexed and he looked away. 

“Then what the fuck is your problem?” She’d been doing so well at squashing the annoyance that kept rising within her. “Are you just trying to be an asshole? You lose nothing with this merger, don’t you get that? All I’m asking is for you to use your fucking money for good. You know, I bet your dad would be so disappointed that–” 

“Get out.” The words were a growl. All at once something in him shifted and she saw a shadow of a cape and mask. Something in him was all predator now. 

She hesitated. She hadn’t meant to actually piss him off. “Bruce–”

“Get. Out.” He pointed a single, threatening finger. He seemed to loom even larger, his body taking up twice the amount of space with its anger. 

“I just meant that–” 

He took a step forward and damn it if she didn’t feel a small jolt of fear. She scrambled to grab her stuff.

“The meeting is canceled,” he said in a calmer voice. “Now get out.” 

“You’re canceling?” She paused in the process of gathering her things. “No way. I’m going to talk to your board about canceling the merger, I–” 

“Not the merger, just the meeting.” Without another word, Bruce turned and left. She imagined a shadow following him, a physical manifestation of his anger. Somewhere, a door slammed. 

Grinding her teeth, y/n grabbed all of her stuff and stomped back to the elevator. “Stupid, stubborn, asshole of a man,” she muttered the whole way. Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have brought up his dad. But she had a point and he knew it. That was why he was so pissed off. 

And canceling their meeting? What a dick. 

She stopped before hitting the button that would take her to the lobby. 

“You know what?” she said out loud. “I’m just going to wait.” She glanced around at the imitation of a spooky castle. “Hear that?” she shouted. “I’m not fucking leaving until you see sense!” 

Her voice echoed around the space. She half-expected a hoard of bats to take off from the rafters far above. She bit back an almost hysterical laugh. Maybe there were bats hiding up there. That’s probably where he got the idea from. 

She leaned back against the wall next to the elevator. 

“Am I going to have to have you arrested for trespassing?” 

Y/n jumped. Standing in the entrance to a hallway on her left was Alfred, the butler or…whatever he was. Security. Uncle. Bruce hadn’t ever actually clarified that point.

“Oh–Uh–” It was one thing to try to get back at Bruce. Alfred, frankly, intimidated her. And he seemed nice, unlike Bruce, which made her loathe to get on his nerves. “I was just–” 

“I take it the meeting didn’t go so well?” he said, letting her off the hook. 

She relaxed slightly. “Oh, it went perfectly. We yelled at each other for half an hour, debated the morality of vigilantes, and then when I accidentally brought up his dad, he kicked me out.” 

Alfred’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hair. “Oh?” he said. 

Right. She probably wasn’t supposed to know that Bruce was Batman. “I uh…we actually met the night before last,” she said. “He stole my mask.” 

She was impressed that he didn’t show any emotion. “Did he?” 

“And I cut his face. It was an accident, but at yesterday’s meeting I noticed and…well. You probably know what I noticed.” 

Alfred hummed and relaxed his posture. “You didn’t tell anyone?” 

“Like I said, he stole my mask. I don’t give a shit what he does.” She shrugged. It was the truth. “All I want is for this merger to not only benefit our companies, but Gotham too. And for some reason the guy who runs around at all hours of the night protecting the city is suddenly waffling about using some of his buckets of cash to do some fucking good.” 

Alfred did the last thing she expected. He laughed. “Oh, I like you. Come on.” He waved her over and went to, of all things, another elevator. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, wondering if maybe there was a dungeon beneath this place that Alfred was tricking her into. “And why does this goddamn tower have so many elevators?” 

Alfred put in a code and stepped inside an elevator that was a lot…grungier than the others she’d been in inside of Wayne Tower. He pressed his thumb to a keypad and entered another code. He then hit a button labeled only B before the thing started to lower. Basement, maybe? 

“This one is only for Bruce and I.” 

“Are you taking me to the dungeon?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Alfred chuckled. “You’ll see.” 

“So that’s all it takes to get into Bruce Wayne’s inner sanctum, huh?” She leaned against the side of the elevator. “Sneak into the penthouse, pick a fight, and reveal that I know his deepest secret to his…uncle?” 

“Butler,” Alfred said. He shifted grip on his cane. “And Bruce needs someone to pick a fight with him.” 

“I really feel like you’re about to lock me in a dungeon.” 

The elevator jerked to a stop. There was a gate across the opening that rattled as it parted. 

Alfred gestured for y/n to step out, so she did. She was surprised to see Alfred was staying inside. He winked at her and was gone as the elevator ascended again. 

“Is she gone?” Bruce’s voice echoed around her and a chittering noise started in its wake. 

The space around her was…dark. She was standing on a platform with steps in front of her that led down to a wide open space. The edges of the area were in deep shadow and everything echoed strangely. Her eyes lifted to the dark ceiling and–holy shit, those were bats. 

Her gaze landed next on two words carved into the stone overhand: Wayne Station. 

“No, actually, she’s not,” y/n said as she followed the stairs down to where Bruce was. He had a shirt on now, at least. He was standing at a desk with several computer screens, hunched over as he scribbled something down. All around them were tables, computers, various tools, random pieces of Batman’s suit, two motorcycles, and a car on a ramp with one of those cloth covers over it. 

Bruce whirled at the sound of her voice. “What–” 

“Alfred let me in,” she said with a triumphant grin. The pen in Bruce’s hand cracked from the force of his grip. 

Bruce growled and turned back to what he was doing, unceremoniously flinging his pen to the side. “Alfred,” he muttered as if it were a curse. 

“He said you need someone to pick a fight with you. All I did was tell him I knew your secret and poof, here we are.” She greedily took in the space around her. It was so interesting. She had a feeling she was seeing a manifestation of Bruce’s mind. There were blueprints, all kinds of gadgets in various stages of completion, and a dummy dressed in his Batman armor and mask. 

“He–” Bruce muttered something else she didn’t catch. 

“Listen, I can pick a fight if you want, or you can show me all of this cool stuff.” There was almost a giddiness rising within her. He had so many cool gadgets, things she’d never dreamed of having. No wonder he was such a good vigilante. 

Bruce glared at her for a moment before turning back to whatever it was he was doing. It looked like he was making notes on a blueprint of some sort. The drawing looked like a car. Kind of. “It isn’t stuff,” she thought she heard him mumble, but she wasn’t sure. 

“Ooh, okay, fine. Let’s pick another fight. Will you get pissed off if I start moving stuff around?” It was too easy to tease him, she thought as she reached out and lifted something that looked an awful lot like a grenade. Her fingers had barely wrapped around it when Bruce’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. 

“Put that down.” 

She grinned at him and obliged. “That’s a yes, then. What if I touch this?” she asked as she picked up something that looked like the armbands he wore on his wrists. It was a lot heavier than she expected. Goddamn, he wore those things every night? Her wrist felt like it was about to break just from holding it. 

He snatched it from her. 

A small laugh escaped her lips. “You’re too easy a target.” She reached blindly for something else. 

He caught both of her wrists in his hands this time. “Stop doing that.” 

“Who pissed in your wheaties this morning, huh?” she asked as he yanked her away from the tempting pile of stuff. 

“You did,” he said. He still hadn’t let her go. 

“Listen,” she said after a beat. “I didn’t mean to–bring up anything by mentioning your dad, okay? I was frustrated.” 

“Understatement of the year,” he muttered. He glanced away but didn’t let her go. 

“I’m going to let that one slide because I really am sorry.” She shrugged as best as she could from within his grip. Her eyes trailed past him, over his shoulder, and she jerked. “Hey! That’s my fucking mask!” 

She yanked hard against him but he didn’t let her go. 

“I told you, you’re not getting it back,” he said firmly. He was scowling down at her. 

“You fucker,” she said. “I already ordered a new one, anyways. Made some improvements.” 

He sighed long and loud through his nose, eyes closed as if he were trying to find inner peace or something. 

“Will you let me go?” she asked.

“Will you stop touching stuff?” he asked, eyes opening. She didn’t miss the way his pupils expanded as he continued to stare at her. 

“That depends,” she said with a bold step forward. “Is there anything I am allowed to touch?” She said it so seductively that there wasn’t a question about her meaning. She let her chest brush against his. 

Bruce said nothing but his grip loosened. 

She slid one of her hands up his chest and rested it on his shoulder. “Do I really piss you off that much?” she murmured. 

“Yes.” 

“So you don’t like me…at all?” She pressed herself closer against him. His sweatpants did nothing to hide the fact that he at least liked her some. 

“I didn’t say that.” His hands fell to her waist, his touch burning hot even through her clothes. 

“Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?” she asked in a low voice. Just imagining it turned her on so much her breath stuttered. Bruce’s fingers flexed against her and she felt the words go straight through him as his cock twitched against her stomach. “Or maybe you should get on your knees,” she murmured as her hand tangled in his hair. His eyes fluttered closed for a second. 

“Which one will make you shut up faster?” he asked after a second. His blue eyes flashed as they opened again. 

She laughed and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Sounds like you want my mouth full.” 

Bruce stopped breathing for a split second. Then his lips were crashing against hers. Her back smacked against the nearest table. He was everywhere. The warmth of his body surrounded her and she again had a moment of thinking he was larger than he was. His hands strayed up her shirt, the calluses on his bare palms dragging a shiver from her as they scraped across her skin. 

This time he bit her lower lip and the mixture of pleasure and pain had a soft noise escaping from her before she could stop it. 

“You’re so infuriating,” he said against her lips. “You drive me crazy.” 

“Right back at you,” she said and kissed him again. 

“I mean it,” he said as his nose traced her jaw. He pressed a kiss against her pulse. She was certain he could feel the way it suddenly jumped. “I have never been so aggravated by a person before.” He kissed down her neck and sighed into her skin. “And I’ve never wanted someone so much.” 

“Then do something about it,” she said with a challenge in her voice. It didn’t come out as strong as she’d hoped though, because his lips were distracting her, and one of his thumbs had chosen that moment to brush the underside of her breast through her bra. 

In one swift movement he had rid her of her shirt. His eyes were hungry as they took her in. “You’re beautiful,” he said. 

“Finally, a compliment,” she said but the words choked off as his lips touched the top of one breast and then the other. 

“One of us has to be nice,” he said, and the way his breath brushed against her skin made her shiver. He glanced up at her through his dark, dark lashes. 

“I can be nice,” she said defensively. What she really wanted to do was demand that he touch her already, but that would defeat the purpose of her comment about being nice. 

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at her. “Oh?” 

She pulled him back to his full height and settled on her knees before him. And bless him, he had some sort of cushioned mats underneath the tables so she wasn’t on hard concrete. Her hands settled on the backs of his thighs as she leaned back enough to stare up at him. 

“I can be very nice,” she said as she tugged his sweatpants down. 

His breath and hers both caught when his cock sprang free. Her mouth practically watered at the sight. His hand caressed the back of her head encouragingly but he made no move to force her forward. He simply watched, and waited. 

She licked the underside of him slowly. Her reward was a choked noise. His hand tightened spasmodically on her head but again, he didn’t force her forward. 

She licked him again, experimental this time, letting her mouth very slowly explore him, moistening him so when she decided to, her lips would slide right over him. 

She took the head of him in her mouth first and swirled her tongue. This time he moaned out her name. The sound of it made her squeeze her thighs together. Her want was a living, breathing thing within her. She didn’t want to tease anymore. She took him into her mouth fully, swallowing him as deep as she could. 

The sound Bruce made was desperate. It echoed around them and only served to make her hungry for more. She was doing that to him. She was making him feel that good. 

Her head bobbed, his hand a gentle guide on the back of it, the noises he was making becoming more frequent the more she moved. His body trembled. She wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing, either. 

All of a sudden her mouth was empty as he jerked away from her. It was instinct to follow but he tugged gently on her hair to stop her. 

“My turn to be nice,” he said, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her upwards and kissed her so hard it left her breathless. He palmed one of her breasts with one hand and her ass with the other. Then her bra was falling off and to the floor. 

“You?” she said on half a gasp. “Nice?” 

He grinned at her. “I can be very nice.” 

He unzipped her skirt. It puddled around her ankles. She kicked off her shoes and the skirt in anticipation. 

“Yeah?” she said as both of his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer. She wiggled against him, his cock against her bare stomach about to drive her wild with need and they hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it.” 

One of his hands was between her legs before she finished speaking. He brushed a thumb against her clit through her underwear, making her squirm. He leaned down to kiss the pulse point in her neck again. 

She made a noise of complaint when he stopped touching her but all he did was lift her so she was situated on the table. 

“Spread your legs,” he said and her body instinctually obeyed without her permission. He pulled down her underwear. His eyes were hungry as he lowered himself to her knees. He was devouring her with his gaze. His lips parted as his tongue darted out. She knew that tongue was about to be on her and the anticipation was killing her. 

“This is the part where you beg for forgiveness,” she said in a breathy voice. All of her bravado went out the window as he smirked at her and traced a finger through the wetness between her legs. 

He moved teasingly slow as he continued to trace her, staying just outside where she wanted him, every other pass stopping to circle her clit. He kissed the inside of one thigh and then the other. Then he paused, staring up at her with eyes like blue flames, and lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. The new position made her lean back against her hands. 

She moaned at the first touch of his lips. His tongue gently traced her clit and she squirmed all over again.

“Bruce,” she said like a plea. 

He listened to her unspoken demand and inserted a single finger into her so slowly she wanted to scream. His tongue worked her clit as his finger moved in and out of her. The sensation started to build and build and build. She reached out for an anchor with one hand, something, anything to keep her grounded. Her fingers threaded into Bruce’s hair. He hummed against her, eliciting a moan from her as the vibrations moved through her body. 

“Fuck,” she said because there was no other word for it. 

He pushed a second finger inside her. His movements started to quicken. 

Her orgasm built within her as he moved faster and faster. The sensation of his tongue on her clit coupled with two of his fingers inside her was almost too much. She couldn’t catch her breath. 

Bruce slid a third finger inside her and every muscle in her body clenched around him. 

She shuddered as the orgasm washed over her, pleasure rolling on waves throughout her body. 

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. Somehow, that was hotter than anything he’d done up until that point. The look in his eyes, feral and hungry, made her feel more naked than her actual nakedness. 

“How do you want me?” she asked, voice thick in the wake of her orgasm. Her body shuddered with an aftershock and Bruce’s piercing blue eyes didn’t miss any of it. He stood slowly, the bulk of him seeming to unfold little by little as he towered over her. He pulled his shirt off with one hand and somehow kept eye contact the whole time. 

He stepped between her legs and she shivered again. The air was cold but the warmth pouring from Bruce’s magnificent body was enough to keep her from feeling it. 

“How do you like it?” 

God, his fucking voice. Deep and sexy and with a hint of a growl that turned her on. 

How did she like it? Was he serious? She just wanted him inside her, she didn’t care where or how. 

“Just fuck me,” she said when she could find her voice. 

“You’re so bossy,” he said with half a smile as he bent to kiss her. 

She clutched his shoulders. “I mean it, Bruce,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster. “Fuck me. I have an IUD so we have nothing to worry about.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked after a second. He studied her face calmly as if she weren’t half-mad with lust. As if his cock wasn’t dripping for her, angled perfectly to go inside her. 

“I don’t know how I could make my consent any clearer.” She rolled her eyes. Then she realized that maybe Bruce wasn’t sure. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he said against her lips, and then pushed into her so suddenly she cried out. 

She said every cuss word she knew which only served to make him laugh. The vibrations traveled between their connected bodies in a delicious way. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to him, his lips moving up her neck and to her breasts and to her lips. 

“Fuck,” Bruce said as he began to move. She agreed with the sentiment. With her leaning back on the table, him between her legs, the angle was just right to immediately send shivers up and down her spine. Every thrust made her muscles clench. 

The feel of his cock within her was almost transcendent. She grabbed him tightly, pressing their bodies together, keeping him close to her as he thrust in and out. 

He slid a hand between them to circle her clit and she cried out as she came almost immediately. When she opened her eyes she expected to see that she had burst into flames. Bruce was staring at her again, his expression tight. 

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said and the words almost made her do so again. 

“I bet you are too,” she said with a grin. She wrapped her legs around him so that their bodies were flush. The new angle made them both gasp. His big hands splayed across her back and her own hands tangled in his hair. He seemed to like it when she pulled, so pull she did. 

“Y/n…” he said into the crook of her neck. His thrusts picked up speed. She saw stars as his cock hit her just right, over and over and over. The grip she had on his hair was a lifeline now, the only thing grounding her and keeping her from exploding into a million tiny pieces. 

“Come inside me, Bruce,” she said. It wasn’t at all bossy like she’d intended it, but he groaned anyways. 

He rocked into her, harder and deeper than before, the sweat on their skin making their chests slide together. His fingers deftly swept over her clit again. Her cry echoed, almost a scream, as she came for the third time. 

Bruce wasn’t far behind. His thrusts stuttered, rhythm uneven, as his hips jerked into her. She could feel it spill out of her even as he continued to move. 

“Fuck,” he said as his hips slowly jerked to a stop. They were both panting. 

“Fuck,” she agreed. She was still clinging to him. They stayed tangled together for a minute more. Her body shivered with aftershocks every few seconds. Her mind was blissfully blank. Her limbs were warm, her body languid. She felt completely wrung out in the best way possible. 

Bruce kissed her jaw. His hands rubbed idle circles against her bare back. It was…sweet. She liked it. Usually the men she fucked pulled out and yanked their clothes back on in the same movement. 

“I had no idea Bruce Wayne was such a…generous lover,” she said, breath still heaving. 

“Now you know all of my secrets.” He toyed with her hair, his face softer than she’d ever seen it. She let her legs fall from around his waist. He stepped back, sliding out of her, and passed her a small towel from God only knew where. “It’s clean, I promise.” 

“I highly doubt I know all your secrets.” Their eyes met and they shared a smile. She cleaned herself up to the best of her ability. “I’d like to, though.” 

“Oh?” he said, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before. 

“Feel free to say no, but I’d like to take you on a date.” She nudged him gently. She pulled her bra and underwear back on. 

“I’d like that. But I should pay.” He pulled up his sweatpants but left his shirt off. She couldn’t say she minded the view. 

“Oh, I only meant I was driving. You’re definitely paying.” 

He laughed, long and loud, and the sound stirred something in her gut. 

“Who knew that all you needed was to get laid to loosen up?” she teased as she gave him another playful nudge. 

“I doubt this is what Alfred had in mind when he said I needed someone to pick a fight with,” Bruce said with another slight laugh. “But it worked, didn’t it?” 

Y/n glanced around, suddenly panicked. “There aren’t security cameras in here, are there?”

Something glinted in his eyes. A playfulness, almost. “No, there aren’t.” 

She squinted at him, suspicious. “If you tell me know and I find out you’re beating off to the tape every night–” 

He laughed again, this one a short, surprised burst of sound. He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I promise there’s not.” 

She finished straightening her hair with a soft hmph. “Fine, fine. Date’s still on then, I guess.” 

Bruce leaned in and brushed a kiss to her temple. It was as if he couldn’t help it. As if the sex had softened all of his rough edges. Maybe it had softened her, too, because she couldn’t drum up an ounce of annoyance at him if she tried. In fact, she leaned into the touch. 

“Seriously,” she teased as she bent to pull her shoes back on. “It’s like you’re a different person.” 

“What can I say?” he said. He spread his hands. “You’re not all bad.” 

“Does this mean you’ll accept all my terms with the merger?” 

There was a long, long pause. “Absolutely not.” 

She snorted, and they fell into what was becoming their new routine of bickering as they went upstairs to get lunch.

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