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dominiquelucalover · 6 months ago

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Center of Danger | Dominique Luca x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Your Tuesday plans are put on hold when you're caught in the middle of a bank robbery, but as if that didn't put a damper on your day, going into labor in the middle of it certainly did.

CW: fem!reader, pregnancy, labor, hostage situation, guns, death threats, death, blood, mild descriptions of violence, pre-established relationship. If any of these topics trigger you in any way, please do not read. Your wellbeing is so important.

A/N: I tried to make reader a behavioral analysis expert who works with S.W.A.T. but I don't know how well I incorporated that. ( not me trying to flex my Criminal Minds knowledge like a fucking nerd.) PS: I spent four straight hours writing this lol. and nother hour and a half proofreading and editing (and adding a whole 'nother fucking thing to the end of this jfc) (I'm having fun lol)

Your day had been going well. You went to one of your final doctors appointments before you were supposed to have the baby, you'd grabbed some of the last minute things on your baby list, and you were going over what you needed from the grocery store while you stood in line at the bank. It was one of those errands that you couldn't put off doing anymore, especially with the impending birth of your child, so it seemed easy enough to get out of the way today while you were already out and about. Unfortunately, a group of greedy, grubby-handed robbers decided to ruin those plans.

You couldn't lay on the ground like they wanted everyone to, which already irritated not only them but you too. The floor was uncomfortable as you sat against one of the desks while everyone else was forced to lay face down and not to move. It was a tense situation as the three robbers made the tellers fill their bags, one you wished would be over soon.

However, the robbers had already fucked up and got themselves stuck in the bank. A teller had sounded the silent alarm and in a fit of anger, one of the criminals shot the security officer dead. Another one freaked out because "no one was supposed to die" and seemed to be on the verge of tears, but it was hard to tell because they were all wearing plastic Halloween masks. This was turning out to be the worst bank robbery you had ever witnessed, not that you had ever actually witnessed a bank robbery but you had studied plenty.

"Shit, man! The cops are here!" one of the robbers all but growled. He turned his weapon on the tellers with a nasty glare from behind his ghoul mask. "Which one of you sounded the alarm, huh? Fucking idiots!"

He shot at the ceiling suddenly, causing people to scream. You jumped and held your belly protectively, taking a deep breath as you tried to stay calm. However, your blood pressure was already up and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The baby was kicking, sensing your distress, and you rubbed your bump in an attempt to soothe them.

"Cool it!" another of the robbers chastised his buddy, seething with anger behind his devil mask. "You're gonna need those bullets. So chill the fuck out."

"I'll do as I damn-well please," the first one said, then walked away, seeming to look for another way out.

The freaked-out robber stayed out of the conversation, seeming more subservient to the other two. He just stood the to side, watching over the hostages like he'd been told to, hiding behind his clown mask. You knew from that if any of them were going to break first, it was him.

As things around you began to calm down, you leaned your head back on the desk and took even, deep breaths. Of course, the quiet couldn't last long.

A couple were whispering to each other a few feet away and as soon as the robber with the devil mask, who seemed to be the leader, caught wind of it, he stomped over and pointed his gun at the woman's head. "I said to keep quiet! You want me to blow her head off?"

"No, please! We'll be quiet!" the man begged.

"I should make sure you stay quiet for good," the leader said, teasing the trigger of his gun. The grin of his devil mask made the scene more unsettling.

At that moment, you felt a sharp pain in your belly and let out a heavy groan. All eyes turned to you and watched as you withered in your spot. You were caught between pain and confusion, hoping that you weren't going into labor. You weren't due for another three and a half weeks. Your baby couldn't come now, this was the worst-case scenario. Anywhere else but in the middle of a robbery would have been ideal.

The devil walked over to see what you were doing, letting out a frustrated groan. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Give me a break!"

You looked up at him as the contraction passed, irritated and not ready to give birth. You spat, "Sorry to ruin your parade!"

He pointed his gun at you but the clown ran over and pushed it down. "Dude, you can't shoot a pregnant lady!"

The leader looked at him, then walked away muttering under his breath about how this was going terribly and how the last thing he needed was a baby to mess it up further.

It was about that time one of the phones rang and he walked over to answer it, knowing it was the police outside. It was about time, but you thought that perhaps they needed a negotiator to show up, which was unfortunate for you. A few minutes earlier and you might not be in the early stages of labor right now.

"What do you want?" Devil asked brashly.

You couldn't hear who was on the other side of the call, sitting too far away. You watched closely, hoping your boyfriend was outside with his team. It would be the perfect fantasy if he came to your rescue; besides, they were the best S.W.A.T. team in LA. What were the chances that they weren't here?

The phone call only lasted about two minutes before the leader hung up having made no demands. He laughed, shaking his head. "They think I'm an idiot."

The ghoul came back into the room and grunted. "They've got the whole place surrounded! They probably have snipers ready to kill us if we walk outta here. What do we do?"

Devil thought for a moment, then gestured with his gun at the people laying on the floor. "Put them in front of the doors and windows. Use them as a shield. They won't shoot in here with hostages in the way and it'll give us time to think."

His accomplices nodded and started getting people up, guiding them with their guns to form a line around the center of the bank. The patrons followed orders dutifully and linked their arms together, their lives put further in danger by their captors.

The leader came over to you and grabbed your arm, but the clown came over and asked him what he was doing. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting her off her ass."

"She's pregnant, man," he said, his voice a little more confident than before. He didn't seem to like that you were there at all, but as soon as his bossy friend came near you, he jumped to your aid. "Just leave her alone."

"You questioning me?"

He seemed to think on his feet. "I'm just saying, if the cops know we got a pregnant lady in here, thye're gonna get more aggressive. They'll try harder to get in here. Think about it, man."

"Kid's got a point," Ghoul said, looking over. "She'll be our secret weapon."

Devil looked between them and shook his head, letting you go. "Fine, maybe you're right... this time. We'll see."

He walked away to make sure the wall of hostages was cooperating, looking out the glass doors and windows at the front of the bank to evaluate what his next move should be. He took slow, calculated steps, taunting the police and the hostages at the same time.

Another contraction hit you and you whimpered, holding your stomach and slightly curling up. The clown crouched down beside you, looking at you with wide eyes from behind his mask. He stuttered, "A-are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you asked through clenched teeth. He looked down, almost ashamed for asking the question. You would feel bad if he wasn't hiding his identity and holding a large automatic gun on his back. Once the pain passed, you breathed out. "How old are you?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered.

"Sure it does. They called you kid," you told him, making him look up at you. "Means they don't respect you."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. He stood up and walked away, but looked back at you as he did. That was how you knew you did it. You planted that seed of doubt in his mind.

The next call came in not that long after, but Devil made one of the hostages answer the phone, a terrified older man who had been there to help his son open a bank account. He instructed the man on what to say, telling the officer on the other end that they wanted an armored car and a one way trip out of the country for the three of them, all within the next hour. It wasn't possible, you thought, which you were sure was what they were told before the hostage was made to hangup the phone with the promise that if their demands weren't met by that time, someone else was going to die.

The time seemed to pass sluggishly. You wouldn't have known it was going by at all were it not for the contractions picking up speed. You had read all your books about pregnancy and birth, so you knew that wasn't a great sign in this particular situation. Your labor seemed to be fast approaching, but you didn't want it to be. Were this in line with your birth plan, that would be ideal. However, a speedy birth was not on your agenda for the day.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," Devil taunted as he walked the line of hostages again. He'd been pacing behind them to needlessly remind them of his presence. It was cruel and having to watch him was intense. "Five more minutes."

"What if they get us what we want?" Clown asked, looking at his friend.

The leader shook his head. "They won't get us what we want. They'll try to bribe us with less than what we asked for just to get us outside."

"So you're just gonna kill one?"

"Yup."

A woman in line cried out at hearing this and she was snapped at to shut up by the ghoul. He held a gun to her back and laughed at her terror as she tried to muffle her cries.

Clown watched, clutching his gun to his chest, before looking at Devil. "Wasn't killing the guard enough?"

"Not until we get out of here with the money and our lives," the leader answered, then shoved him. "Now shut up and do your job."

You watched as the 'kid' shook his head and walked away, listening to the devil without another question. Paying attention to everything else around you was the only thing keeping you from going insane from the pain. It was more persistent now and you felt the baby had moved lower. It was getting harder to keep your cool as all you wanted to do was yell and kick your feet at these guys who had forced you into early labor.

You were trying not to think about the time passing, watching Devil pace back and forth behind the line. He was looking at them, gun pointed at their backs. Then, suddenly, another sharp contraction shot through you and all you could do was scream as he shot a woman in the back.

She would have dropped to the floor were it not for the two people on either side of her whose arms were linked with hers. They were told to drop her as she cried and writhed. Then Devil went to stand over her, watching her squirm on the ground and bleed, before lifting his gun and shooting her in the head. Everything stopped and grew quiet except for your cries. They echoed off the high walls of the bank, violently reminding everyone there that life came with pain.

Sweat and tears slipped down your face as people were forced to listen to you until you quieted down. The contraction passed and you were slumped against the desk once more.

The devil turned to Clown and motioned toward you. "Go make sure she's alive."

"Okay," he said and walked over to you. He put his gun on his back and crouched beside you, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "You're, uh, you're getting closer to, um, having the baby, aren't you?"

You nodded, keeping your eyes forward, watching the way Devil made two hostages move the woman's body closer to the door. They were going to use her as a block in front of the door incase S.W.A.T. came running in, which made you sick to your stomach. You'd seen a lot of malicious shit, but that was a new low.

The phone rang, but no one moved to answer it. Then the devil chuckled.

"Get her on her feet," he said, looking over at you and the 'kid.'

Clown puffed up his chest. "She can't possibly-"

Devil got angry. "Don't question me! Just do it!"

Clown looked at you apologetically and put an arm around your back and hoisted you up. You cried out as you felt the baby shift lower. It was hard to walk, awkward really. But he held you up and guided you to the phone as it rang. Just as you reached the desk, it stopped, and you wanted to scream but managed to hold it in. You knew they would call back. They had to.

The clown leant you against the desk and brought its accompanying chair over to you. He helped you sit in it as his buddies scolded him, but he didn't argue back or justify his actions then. Only when you were seated did he turn to them and bark back.

"You're making a pregnant lady do all this shit when she's about to have a goddamn baby! What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled.

Devil got in his face. "I'm the one calling the shots around here! You do as I say, and if I want that fat bitch to answer the damn phone, she will, or she and that baby won't-"

"Oh, so you're gonna kill a lady and her baby?"

"Wait a minute!" Ghoul interrupted, looking at the devil, "Who died and put you in charge?"

"I've been in charge, numbnuts!"

The argument would have continued on from there, but the phone rang. They all looked at your tired face and waited for you to comply with what Devil wanted. So, you did.

"Hello," you said.

The voice on the other end of the phone made you feel some relief as he said your name. It was Hondo. "Is that you?"

You didn't answer immediately, not wanting to put the robbers on edge or clue them in to anything.

He seemed to understand. "If you are who I think you are, say 'where's the car?' if you're not, say 'please help us.' Okay?"

"Where's the car?" you asked, eyes trained on the robbers. Devil nodded at you, seeming to like that you were apparently smart enough to understand the situation at hand - you got right to the point of things and had been paying attention. Little did he know...

"We're gonna get you out of there, okay? We're working on it," Hondo told you.

"Well work on it faster," you told him, wincing in pain. You held your belly with your free hand. You kept your mouth shut about being in labor, knowing the robbers didn't want that detail known to anyone outside. "They've already killed someone else."

"We know, we saw," he said, letting out a regretful sigh. "But our eyes can only see in through the windows. The camera system is down. How many people are left inside with you?"

You looked around the room, trying to count the number of hostages, but it was harder to concentrate on something like that. "I don't know."

"What did he say?" Devil asked.

"They want to know how many people are alive."

Ghoul huffed. "Why does he want to know?"

"I don't know," you groaned, feeling another contraction rearing its ugly head. You did know, but there was no way you could strategize what the right thing to say to them was at that moment. "They-they probably- ahh!"

Hondo said your name several times, keeping his voice even. "Talk to me, mama. What's going on in there?"

Devil came over and seethed at you, "Tell him to get us what we want or we're gonna kill another person. Then hang up."

You spoke through the pain. "Get them what they want-"

"Are you in labor?" Hondo asked, hearing the strain in your voice.

"Or they're going to kill again," you said. "Please, please hurry."

Ghoul took the phone from your hand shook, slamming it into the holder. He watched you as you grabbed the arms of the chair, digging your nails into the hard wood. You scraped it and he shook his head. "Pregnant people are weird," he mumbled.

He and the devil moved on, talking to each other about what to do next. They began to argue about it but it was short lived as they parted ways. Ghoul slammed his fist on a desk and stomped away to try again at finding a plan-b escape. Devil leaned on a desk out of view of the windows, near you, and waited.

Clown stayed with you and talked you through the contraction. His voice wavered with fear and nervousness, seemingly never been in a situation like this before, as far as pregnancy went at the very least. Once it passed, he wiped your forehead again. "What-what's going to happen if you give birth in here?"

You looked at him, unsure yourself. "Well, there will be a baby in here and we'll both need immediate medical attention. If at that point they know about that, S.W.A.T. might just do anything to get in here."

Now that Hondo knew you were in here, there was more pressure on him to get inside and ensure your safety. You knew he wasn't going to tell Luca that you were one of the hostages because it would cloud his judgement, damned be the third generation S.W.A.T. officer that he was. His girlfriend and unborn child were in the center of danger and he'd do anything to get you out of there.

Clown got you water and helped you drink it as you continued to wallow in pain. As you sat there, you knew the situation was dire. You could see out some of the windows, seeing S.W.A.T. officers gearing up. You knew that sooner or later, they were going to come inside. You also saw an armored car pulling up, but it was a great distance away from the doors.

Ghoul came back, a little bit of a skip in his step. "They got our car! Let's go!"

"Wait!" Devil said, standing from his position and walking up behind the hostages. He took a man from them by putting his arm around his neck and pointing his gun into his side. They slowly made their way to the windows so he could peer out. He seethed. "They're trying to lure us out."

When he got back to the safe zone, the devil scratched his head, clearly deep in thought. He knew they were in deep, and with your timely reminders about the impending birth of your child, their odds of getting out of here was getting slimmer and slimmer.

"Wait for them to call," he said, turning to his friends. "We tell them we're going to take a hostage with us to ensure our escape."

"Dude, they got the fucking car, why do we gotta wait?" Ghoul asked.

"Because as soon as we step anywhere near those windows, they're gonna gun us down," Devil said, shoving him. "This is why I'm in charge, because you don't think!"

"I think better than you!" the ghoul yelled. "It was my idea to come here, remember?"

"And look at where that got us! You could of picked any other bank, but it had to be this big fancy one in the middle of town!"

"The cameras are out! They can't see in here, dimwit!"

You were about to yell at them to shut up when the phone rang. Devil looked at you and nodded. As you picked up the phone, Ghoul tried to continue the argument, but the devil shoved him away and told him to be quiet.

"Hello," you said.

Hondo sighed with relief at hearing your voice. "Say 'what do you want?' if you're okay. Say anything else if not."

"What do you want?" you asked.

"Tell the brothers we have their car ready for them," he said, which peaked your interest. You looked at the robbers in front of you and it clicked. Their arguing and dynamics made sense now.

They were brothers.

"Your car is ready," you told them.

Ghoul leaned against the desk in front of you. "Tell him we want it closer!"

Devil shoved him away again. "And that we're taking a hostage with us, so if they shoot at us, they'll be killing the next innocent person."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "They want the car closer so that they can get in with a hostage."

Hondo grunted. "Of course they'd try that trick. Listen to me, okay, we're not gonna let that happen. But tell them that we have to make room to move the car, so it'll be a minute."

"Okay," you said and sighed, rubbing your belly. You were in the last stretch of contraction. You could just feel it. "They have to make room for the car to get closer, so it'll be a few minutes before you can leave."

Devil didn't say anything, only took the phone from you and hung it up. "Get ready to get out of here, boys. Make the hostages take our bags to the door."

Then he walked away.

Ghoul took control of that mini mission, bossing two of the men in line to move and hustle to get their bags full of money to the door. They dropped them off and promptly got back in line, seeing the robber's finger ever-present on the trigger of his gun.

You were leaning forward on the desk, head laying on your arms as you whined and tried to breath deeply. You tried to hold your legs closed, preventing the progression of labor in anyway you could. You cursed having worn a dress today. You tried to think about anything else but where you where in that moment and what was happening. You tried to put yourself at home, in your baby's nursery that you and Luca had spent the last few weeks putting together and decorating. It helped distract you for a few minutes until more yelling broke the illusion.

Looking up, you saw Devil and Ghoul arguing about which hostage to take with them, which was the stupidest thing you had ever seen. It made you angry as you sat there, in labor, having to listen to this. Devil wanted to take you but Ghoul wanted to take anyone else. You were at your breaking point.

However, Clown snubbed out your lit fuse. He came with more water and helped you sit up so he could bring the cup to your lips. You sipped it, thankful that he was the kindest of the brothers. From what you had observed, he had to be the baby of the three and didn't want to hurt anyone there. He was there to rob a bank, not kill anyone, and each time you were in pain, he came to your side. He took care of you as much as he knew how. Something inside of him was redeemable, you thought so at least.

"They're both idiots," you whispered to him.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I can't believe I agreed to do this. I should have never let them talk me into this."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

He leaned against the desk, staying close to you as you both listened to the argument devolve, once more, into who is in charge. It was beginning to sound like they were a broken record, but as they continued the back and forth, you heard how similar their voices were, how similarly they spoke, and you could picture them as brothers more and more. It was in contrast to the 'kid', who seemed a little more mild mannered and quiet. He only spoke against the other two when he was passionate about whatever he was fighting them for, be it the lives of the people there or your wellbeing. It made you wonder how he was a part of this family.

Suddenly, everything came to a head.

"I told you to stop questioning me!" someone yelled, followed by a round of rapid pops from a gun.

You couldn't process anything for a moment, stomach tightening and making double over, leaning onto the desk again. You held your belly, screaming with the other scared people trapped with you. The moment passed quickly, but you couldn't look up.

"Bobby, what did you do?" Clown yelled.

The devil, Bobby, turned and criticized his kid brother. "Shut up! Don't say my name, you idiot!"

"But-"

"I said shut up!" he yelled and pointed the gun at him. "Now stop asking stupid questions or you're next."

You peeked up from your arm, seeing how far Devil had devolved. In the beginning, he was semi-organized (given how shittily the robbery was planned, there was at least some effort on his behalf), but the stress of the situation and his brother's mouth had finally snapped his last nerve.

Clown backed down and slowly sank to the ground beside your chair. Bobby began pacing again.

The phone range and you answered it.

"What's happening in there?" Hondo asked.

You could feel the devil's eyes on you. "You need to hurry."

"What happened?" he said again, fearing the worst.

You let out a breath. "Someone else is dead."

"Tell them we're going as fast as we can," he said.

You looked over at Bobby. "They're going as fast as they can. Please don't shoot anyone else."

"I'll shoot whoever I damn-well please," he said and took the phone from you, putting it to his ear. "You listen here, buddy. You don't tell me what to do, got it? Now, if that car isn't at the front door in five minutes, I'm killing everyone in here."

He slammed the phone into the holder before ripping it off of the desk and throwing it across the room. He stomped off, going back to his look out position from behind the line of people. He watched the doors impatiently, seemingly unbothered by the crying people before him. Their anguish brought him no joy, unlike his now-dead brother, as it was obvious that the people were merely pawns in his game. He didn't care about them whatsoever.

You laid your head down and whispered, "He's gonna kill you."

Clown made a worried noise in the back of his throat. "No-no he won't. He-he's my brother..."

"You blew his cover. Everyone here knows his name and it won't be hard to track down a Bobby in an armored car," you said, pausing to moan and shift your seated position. You couldn't hold your legs together anymore, knowing it was dangerous. It was a feeble attempt anyway. "He's already angry and you're the only one left brave enough to stand up to him."

He whined. "I-I'm really not."

"Yeah, you are," you told him, hoping to break through to him. "You've protected me from him this whole time. That took a lot of courage, I know it did."

"But... he's my brother... The only family I have left now," he said.

You looked at him, meeting his sad eyes past the mask. "Family wouldn't put you in this position."

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then looked away in contemplation. He didn't say anything for a moment, which felt like an eternity, and then he looked at you again. "What's your name?"

"Why does it matter now?" you asked.

"Because if I'm gonna die, I'd like to know the name of the lady I protected," he said.

You didn't understand what that meant, it could mean many things, and as you felt the pain getting worse, you couldn't think very well anyway. You told him your name between heavy breathes.

He gently wiped your forehead again, talking you through the pain. Then he took off his mask, revealing his face to you, and you were saddened to see how young he was. There was no doubt he was in his early twenties but he still had a baby face and the biggest eyes you'd ever seen a man have, giving him a deer in the headlights look.

"I'm Eric."

Then he stood up and moved away from you, walking over to another desk quietly. He moved out of your sight and you couldn't move much anymore, too tired to do much of anything as it were. Despite the situation, all you wanted to do was get this over with.

Then, there was a loud thud from where Eric had disappeared to.

Bobby turned around and marched over to you. "What the hell are you doing?"

You groaned, looking up at him. "Nothing."

He seethed again, "I've about had enough of you and you're whining."

"I'm about to push a watermelon out of me, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to shut u-" BANG!

He fell to the ground in front of you, his blood splattering on the desk. Looking over, Eric had his gun trained on his brother from behind the desk a few feet away, eerily still, like he was trained for this. It made your heart ache because your stomach was already twisted. What kind of life had this kid had that led him and his brothers to this?

As he walked over to you, he yelled at the other hostages, "Go! Get out of here! Go! Get out!" They listened without hesitance and ran screaming and crying for the door.

He crouched down beside his brother's body and took the gun off of him, sliding it across the floor. He then took his own gun and push it to follow. Then he turned to you, "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "More or less."

Eric couldn't say another word before S.W.A.T. came into the bank with guns at the ready. They aimed at him and he put his arms up, already on his knees. You screamed in pain and he turned to look at you, making Hondo yell at him to stay still, but he didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he didn't listen and reached out to you.

He took your hand and let you squeeze it as the pain made you sob.

You managed to cry out, "He's unarmed!"

The team got closer and saw the truth in your words. They pulled his hand from yours despite your tight grip and handcuffed him, getting him onto his feet. While Chris and Street patted him down, Luca and Hondo came to your side.

"Fucking hell, I could kill this guy for all this," Luca grunted, clearly angry. He took your hand into his.

You shook your head. "He's a hero, believe me."

"How is he-?" Hondo asked, but was cut off by your guttural scream.

Deacon shook his head as he watched. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

The paramedics came in with their gurneys and attended to the bodies on the floor, but by the time it was decerned that they were beyond saving, everyone was busy and there was no room for you anywhere. Luca picked you up and carried you outside in hopes of finding an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital, but they were all tending to the injured who had run outside earlier.

Tan opened up the back doors of Black Betty and called out to Luca, ushering the team over. Street helped get you inside while Tan and Chris ran to the side doors to get in. Once you were laying on the floor, Luca behind you and holding you close, everyone else piled in and closed everything up, turning on the lights and sirens.

You were screaming the whole time, crying as it became too much. Your body was telling you to push and that was all you could think about doing. Luca was trying to soothe you, telling you that you would be at the hospital soon and that it would be okay. But your baby had other ideas, they had waited long enough.

"The baby's coming!" you cried out.

"We know, we're gonna-"

"No! Now! The baby's coming right now!"

You let out another scream as you pushed. Deacon slide onto the floor and pulled your legs up onto the seats on either side of you, pushing your dress away. He ripped your underwear to get a look at how things were progressing and then looked up at Luca, Street, and Hondo, "She's right. She's crowning."

Hondo called out to the front, "Tan, pull over!"

Luca held your hands as you rested you head back against his abdomen, crying as your body guided you. Everything you'd read and come to understand was nothing compared to the way your body told you what to do.

Black Betty came to a stop on the side of the road, but it only took three more powerful pushes that the ended the pressure. You ached, but the pain was lessened dramatically. You opened your eyes to see Deacon picking up your baby, who was a little chubby for a newborn and rather long, aka big like their daddy.

Deacon gently held them and patted their back, getting them to cry and clear their airways. He smiled at them and happily said, "Welcome to the world, Baby Luca."

Street rummaged around for anything to wrap the baby in, only for Chris to pass a fresh shirt to him from the front. He thanked her and helped Deacon wrap your little angel up to keep warm before they were laid on your chest. You took her, Luca's arm coming under yours to support you both.

"It's a girl," Deacon told you and you smiled. He smiled too, knowing that joy and pride well. "Congratulations."

Tan put Black Betty in gear and let everyone know he was going to start driving again, as you and your daughter needed to be taken to the hospital. After that, no one said anything. They just let you and Luca have your moment with your daughter.

Luca couldn't even speak. He had spent the day tirelessly trying to save hostages from a bad situation that only got worse as the minutes passed by, only to learn from Hondo that you were one of them minutes before they stormed in there. He ran to you as soon as he could and wanted to burn the robbers to the ground with how angry he was because you were caught in the middle of their idiocy. Then, as soon as he saw you were in labor, he was scared, too. However, now, all that stress and anger and fear was erased. You were safe in his arms with your daughter. He had a daughter! He was nothing my happy.

Street inevitably ruined the precious moment, but lightened it at the same time as he broke the silence. "I can't believe you gave birth in Black Betty."

The team didn't react until you laughed, which let them know they could laugh too.

"I'm just glad it wasn't in the bank," you said, the ache still in your heart for the people who were lost and the kid brother who had saved you. You looked at Hondo as you remembered him. "I wanna be there for Eric. He really did save those of us that he could."

Hondo didn't question you, because you were tired and hormonal and he knew you knew what you were talking about. He just nodded and said, "I'll talk to the DA, but for now, you just worry about that cutiepie you got, okay?"

"Okay," you said.

When you got to the hospital, you were taken to a room immediately. Not only because you were wheeled in with a baby in your arms, but because you had a team of S.W.A.T. officers escorting you. Luca went back with you and ensured you and your baby daughter were okay.

Despite being three and a half weeks early, she was healthy. She would need to stay a few extra days for observation, but that was okay with you. Both you and Luca wanted the best for her, so you knew she might need a little extra watching over because of her early arrival and the stress you were under, and you needed to recover as well. It would work out, you were sure.

Once that was cleared up, Luca sat beside you with your daughter asleep in her basinet at your bedside. He watched her with nothing but love in his eyes. He'd only been talking about how excited he was for her to 'hurry up and get here' in the months leading up to this moment. He hadn't cared if she were a boy or a girl, as you'd left finding out to be a surprise at the birth, because he was going to love his kid no matter what. You knew he was going to be an amazing father.

You watched him, tired as all hell, but couldn't fall asleep. Even after the day you'd had, you laid awake on some pain killers with a soft smile on your lips. "I love you."

Luca turned to you and chuckled. "I love you, too." He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know that?"

"You only tell me that at least once a day," you laughed softly, careful not to wake your sleeping angel.

"Well, I mean it so much this time," he told you, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "You're so strong and smart and brave. What you went through today was a lot and you powered through it like a champ. And you see the good in people even in situations when it's hard to see anything but bad."

"What can I say?" you asked, not really sure what there was to say. You just read the situation like it was. And it helped you and several other people get through it. "I'm just a woman."

"Nah, you're more than that," he said and leaned in closer, kissing your head. Your eyes closed and this time they were too heavy to lift back open. "You're Superwoman."

"If you say so," you mumbled. You then fell into a dreamless sleep, getting the much needed rest your deserved.

Lowkey, I'm now attached to the backstory I accidentally gave Bobby, Ghoul, and Eric, so here it is if anyone cares. Bobby, Ghoul - who's real name is Terry, and Eric were born in a less than ideal home. Raised by a worked to the bone mother and a father who had lengthy arrest record, they were doomed from the start. Bobby and Terry were closer in age to each other than either of them were to Eric, often getting into trouble and leaving him out. When they weren't getting suspended from school, they were pushing Eric around metaphorically and literally. They would often use Eric as a punching bag when they weren't getting into fights with each other. They mother wasn't around a lot as she worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over their heads. When she was around, she was frustrated and tired, often getting angry at them for little problems like leaving their shoes out for her to trip over and bigger issues like getting kicked out of school. Their father was in and out of jail for most of their lives, but when he was around, he taught them how to shoot, steal, and hot wire cars. Averse to these activities, Eric was once again the odd one out and often the target of his brothers' criticism. Their father often got drunk and ranted to his sons about his drawbacks in life, often blaming others. Due to this unstable environment, it was no wonder the brothers turned out the way they did. Bobby followed in their father's footsteps, often helping their old man with his criminal endeavors when he could. After their father's untimely death at the hands of a homeowner protecting himself after he broke into the house, Bobby was angry. He went on a bend of drinking and crime, ending him up in jail where he made friends. Once he was out, he started robbing houses and small business. Terry at least finished high school and got a job as a mechanic, which was stable enough for a while. He started to doing shotty work for cheap and got fired once his boss found out. He did a number of odd jobs after that. Eric was on the right track but couldn't catch a break. With a grant, he was able to start college but had to leave after his mother became ill. He was almost done with college when he dropped out to take care of her, but it was fruitless. He didn't blame his mom but rather the bad hand life had dealt him, but didn't grow very bitter. He got a shitty job and went about his life. However, their mother's death is what brought the brothers back together. It was several months after the funeral that Bobby came around with the idea to rob a bank. Terry was crashing on Eric's couch at the time and liked the idea, immediately liking the idea of free money and getting to go anywhere they wanted. The two oldest brothers talked Eric into it, telling him they could go live their dream lives and get out of the shambles they called a life. Plus, they were brothers, the only family he had left, was he really gonna left them do it alone?

And yeah, that's what I got for the bank robbing brothers. If it doesn't make any sense, I came up with all of this over the span of 8 hours and little to no sleep.

#pregnant reader #tw birth #tw pregnancy #tw violence #tw death #swat 2017 #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat #dominique luca #dominique luca x reader #swat luca #luca x reader

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zepskies · 8 months ago

Text

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. 😂

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

💜 Series Masterlist

“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

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@hobby27 @iloveyou2mia @deadlymistletoe @smoothdogsgirl @fanfic-n-tabulous

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

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megalony · 7 months ago

Text

You've Earned It

It's been a while, but here is a new Jim Street imagine, requested by a lovely mutual. I hope you will all like this one.

I'm trying to get a few more Swat ideas in motion at the moment.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713

Swat Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is on maternity leave, but she pops into Swat to visit the team. But when a situation breaks out and they go on lock down, (Y/n)'s water breaks.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A strange smirk danced across (Y/n)'s face when she took the visitor's badge she was handed and clipped it onto her waist. It wasn't often that (Y/n) had to wear this kind of badge when she came into Swat headquarters like this. It almost made her feel like an outsider.

She didn't feel like part of Swat when she was demoted to being a visitor, but then again, (Y/n) could understand that it was for security. They had to log people in and out, no matter who they were, when they came to visit. Just in case there was a security risk or they had a fire and had to evacuate so they knew everyone was out safely.

Her bag tapped against her side and she tightened her hand around the leather handle so her bag stopped trying to slide down her shoulder.

Her shoes clicked against the tiled floor and her eyes scanned around as she slowly headed towards the gym that she hadn't used in quite a few months.

A tender look crossed her face and she briefly tilted her head down when her eyes caught on a familiar figure approaching her.

"Who let you back in the building?" Hondo's deep voice was followed by a laugh that made (Y/n)'s smile change back into a smirk and when she lifted her head, she saw he was aiming right for her. His arms stretched out to reel her in for a hug.

It had been a while since (Y/n) had seen Hondo, granted they had messaged a bit over the last few weeks, but that was different to seeing him in person. Especially when she used to see him every other day for almost twelve or fifteen hours at a time when they worked together.

But it had all changed since (Y/n) got pregnant.

She was one of the few women in Swat and that meant the contracts had to be updated to allow maternity leave to be introduced. (Y/n) had been on amended duties, restricted to living in the base and not allowed to attend any of the raids or calls they went out on. She was their eyes and ears, living in the computer room. Until she had to take early maternity leave.

"Haven't you missed me?" (Y/n) countered, folding her arms over her chest when they finally parted.

She watched Hondo lean on his back foot and place his hands on his hips as he grinned and looked around the gym.

"You know we have, it's not the same here without you. Deak, look who dropped by."

Deacon looked like he had been aiming to walk in a different direction, but the moment his eyes locked on (Y/n), a grin spread across his face and he switched to jog over to them instead. (Y/n) loved the way he looped an arm around her shoulders and reeled her into his side like he hadn't seen her in months rather than a matter of weeks.

"Hey! What're you doing here, how are you?"

"I'm good, got a bit lonely so thought I'd come and brighten the place up for a while."

Everyone had been more understanding than (Y/n) first thought when she and Jim told them that they were expecting their first baby. (Y/n) thought it would change things too much. She was worried that when they got someone to take her spot out in the field while she helped in the computer room, that it would become permanent. (Y/n) worked hard to get her place on the team and she didn't want to lose that because she wanted to have a family.

But the team had been so encouraging and warm and understanding, if anything it seemed to bring them closer together.

And when (Y/n) had to go to hospital last month, the team had been understanding then too. Hondo got Jim's shifts covered so he could be with (Y/n) for a week. She had started to have contractions and they thought she was having the baby early, but the doctors had managed to stop them and get everything back under control.

That meant (Y/n) had to go on early leave so she wouldn't be too stressed or overwhelmed and go into early labour.

But Jim was still working, and (Y/n) didn't like being home alone without him like this. She wanted to be with people, with her family, and she thought it might be good to come here and see the team for a little while.

"Let's go get a drink, I think Street's in the kitchen."

(Y/n) nodded and let them steer her towards the kitchen. Somehow, it felt strange to be back here when she knew she still had months left on leave where she would hardly be visiting at all. Swat was a busy place, visiting was allowed and encouraged but it wasn't always possible with how busy their teams got. (Y/n) knew that better than anybody.

But she also knew that once their baby was born, Jim would want to bring them here to show them off to everyone at least once.

When they headed into the kitchen, (Y/n) slumped her bag down onto the counter so she dind't have to keep lugging it around with her.

Her eyes set on Jim immediately and it made a smile pull at her lips when she looked at him. He had his back to them, one hip cocked out at the side and his head at an angle while he poured himself and Chris a drink.

Heading over to them, (Y/n) kept her steps light and the moment she was close enough, she bound her arms around Jim's waist making him shudder. His body pressed into the counter like he was expecting someone to try and tackle him to the ground. But he soon recognised who was binding themselves to him. Not that many people would come up and hug him, especially at work.

If it was Chris hugging him it was usually because something was wrong or one of them needed comfort. And if it was Luca he slung an arm around Jim's neck and reeled him in for a sideways bear hug. So the only logical person who would be hugging him so fondly and tightly like this would be his wife.

He felt (Y/n)'s face pressing into his back between his shoulder blades and his lips curved into a smile when her hands pressed down into his chest and he could feel her bump moulding up against his lower back near his hips.

"Hey baby, what're you doing here?" He slid a cup across to Chris before he reached his hand down to give (Y/n)'s hand a squeeze.

He stayed pressed up into the counter, sipping on his drink for a moment before (Y/n) finally relented and took a few steps back so he could turn around in her arms. He left his cup on the counter and slung his arm around the back of her shoulders and the other around her waist.

The signature grin lit up Jim's face and he tilted his head down so he could steal a kiss from her lips. She wasn't on shift like he was, (Y/n) was clearly here on a passing visit which meant there were no rules against showing any PDA. None of the team cared if Jim wrapped himself around his wife or if he kissed her, they wouldn't say anything.

"I got lonely." It wasn't fun being home alone when her partner and all their friends were here at work. (Y/n) felt like she was missing out on something. She didn't like being on her own.

She could feel Jim smiling against her skin when he peppered a few kisses along her cheek and down her neck. He knew she would be restless at home, he was surprised she hadn't turned up here before now.

When she turned around, (Y/n) leaned her head back on Jim's shoulder and her back into his chest just a little, not wanting to use him as a leaning post but it was very tempting. She felt his right arm loop around her waist, hand settling on her stomach while he reached over and grabbed his coffee. Both of them watching as Hondo and Deacon set about getting some drinks from the fridge.

"So, what have I missed?" (Y/n) kindly shook her head when Deacon offered one of the juice bottles out to her.

She wasn't thirsty. She didn't feel great today, one of the reasons she had stopped by. She was feeling restless and her headache had been blinding her all morning. Being around the team felt like something that would keep her occupied and take her mind off how uncomfortable she was beginning to feel.

"As if Street hasn't already been keeping you updated." Deacon tilted his head to one side with raised brows that dared them to say he was wrong.

They weren't stupid. They knew Jim would go home and tell (Y/n) all the strange, crazy and hard calls she was missing while she was off work. She wanted to be kept in the loop and like she was still part of the team while she was off.

"Alright, what have I missed today?" She countered while she switched her weight from one leg to the other to see if it would help with the pain in her lower back. It didn't do much.

"Today? Nothing."

A conversation began to flow through the kitchen while (Y/n) started to drum her fingertips on the counter beside her. She didn't feel great. She tried to focus on the feeling of Jim's fingers twitching against her stomach like he always did whenever he was near her.

Her features softened and she leaned further back into Jim when she felt him murmur "You good?" against the shell of her ear.

She managed a nod and hummed back as she pressed her lips against the tip of his jaw.

"Well, how about we-" Whatever Hondo was about to say got abruptly cut off when one of the warning tones started blaring out through the speakers. That wasn't one of their drills, and they didn't have any emergency drills or fire alarm testings scheduled for today.

All of them tilted their heads back as if a reason or explanation would flash across the air above their heads along with the sirens. That wasn't a fire drill. It wasn't an evacuation drill and it wasn't a training exercise.

It was the emergency alarm.

(Y/n) felt both Jim's hands move down to hold her hips as his chest stiffened and pressed up into her back while she gripped the counter tighter. All eyes fell on Hondo who quickly pointed to the kitchen.

"Let's find out what's going on."

All of them followed him from the kitchen, briskly walking down the hall until their eyes locked on Commander Hicks approaching the gym from the stairs. Luca was already near the boxing ring along with Rocker and his team. A light shone in Luca's eyes when he glanced over at (Y/n) who he hadn't known was here. He nodded his chin and smiled briefly at her before their attention went back to Hicks.

"Commander, what's happening?" Hondo's hands fell to his hips as they all gathered around, usure why some people wre rushing upstairs or down the back corridor towards the car park.

"A suspect in our custody was just about to be transported from base. We don't know how, but someone found out he was here, started shooting before the car got out of base."

That didn't sound good. (Y/n) had come in on a day that had gone from boring to chaotic in less than ten minutes.

"Rocker, I want your team outside, get that prisoner back inside and those shooters under control. Everyone else stay inside, this place is on lock down. They knew he was here somehow."

They all knew what that meant. Either someone had seen the suspect arrested and knew where he was being taken, or someone on the inside had alerted others that he was here. Either solution wasn't great but they had to get this situation under control. It wasn't safe for anyone to be going out in this mess unless they really had to.

They couldn't try and evacuate the prisoner from here and transport him if the shooters were still observing from outside. And that meant no one else could leave either in case they became targets.

Rocker darted off to assemble his team and come up with a plan while the rest of them shared confused and rather worried looks. Were they just meant to stay inside and observe? Make sure everyone here was okay and keep the situation under control? Could they not do anything else to help?

Except (Y/n), of course. She wasn't technically meant to be here, she was a visitor and as such she couldn't do anything to help the team. Not that she could do much anyway except for go and try to help in the computer room.

"I take it I'm staying too?" (Y/n) tried to smile and her head tilted at an angle when she caught the commander's eye.

He seemed to do a double take, as if he had either not noticed her presence or forgot she was here ni a visiting capacity rather than a work ethic.

"Oh… yeah, sorry (Y/n). For the time being you're stuck here with us."

She nodded while she felt Jim's hands on her hips and his lips and nose meshing against the back of her head. It wouldn't be safe for (Y/n) to try and make a quick exit back home, not with a shooter somewhere outside. Until everyone else could leave safely, (Y/n)'s best bet was to stay here with her team.

It would make her day interesting rather than going home and sitting on her own feeling bored.

Although (Y/n) did feel like she wanted to sit down, the ache in her lower back was steadily getting more and more uncomfortable. And her stomach felt unusually heavy.

"Let's go get a plan in motion and check any available security cameras."

(Y/n) felt Jim squeeze her hips in a silent request for her to follow along with them. There was no point (Y/n) sitting around and waiting when she could still try and help them. They were all going to be working from within the base right now, (Y/n) could easily tag along even if it was just to observe and stop herself from getting bored.

The pair of them followed along with the rest of the team towards the computer room and (Y/n) prayed the air con would be on in there. She was starting to burn up in here.

When they all blundered through into the computer room, (Y/n) moved over to one side so she would be out the way. She didn't want to be in the middle of the room, not when she wasn't going to have a lot of input and she wasn't technically working either. Nor did she want too many eyes on her when she didn't feel well.

It might be worth her while to go and sit in the kitchen for a while and grab a drink after all.

"Alright?" Jim whispered into the top of her head before he moved to stand beside her.

His arms folded over his chest and he cocked one knee forward while he watched Luca move over to grab an IPad which he connected to the big screen at the back of the room. He was loading up a map so they could work out what to do and where they could put Rocker's team so they would be hidden away in blindspots to give them some advantages.

Hunching forward, (Y/n) laid her arms on the table in front of her and sank her teeth down into her lip. Leaning forward like this made her feel a bit better, but she still felt like she should leave the room.

Her eyes danced around the room, seeing the commander and Hondo trying to come up with a game plan while Deacon helped Luca find some more maps.

She could barely focus or register what anyone was saying, she just felt like blending into the walls and disappearing. It wasn't like anyone was asking for her help anyway, (Y/n) and about five other Swat members were just crammed into the room, silent but observing.

When Jim waltzed over to the screen and started pointing out advantage points and security cameras on the streets, (Y/n) took that as her moment to try and disappear unknowingly.

She pushed up off the counter and carefully tried weaving past the desk, towards the other side of the room. She could go down the back corridor and get to the kitchen. If anyone noticed her going, they would know where she was aiming for.

Her left hand dragged up and down the back of her neck as she stuck close to the wall in case she needed some help with balance and to try and blend in.

She kept glancing her eyes around the room as if she was checking if anyone noticed her trying to make a slow disappearance. She locked eyes with Deacon who looked her up and down and rose a brow, asking a silent question to check she was alright and where she was going.

But he quickly thrust the tablet in his hand down on the desk in favour of reaching out for (Y/n) when she stumbled.

"Woah, you okay?" His voice was quiet, trying in vain not to catch any attention, but when he noticed where (Y/n) was looking, he followed her line of sight.

He had one hand on her back and the other on her arm while (Y/n) held onto his forearm with both hands to steady herself. Her eyes were cast down on the floor and Deacon felt the shudder that passed through her, and when he looked down, he realised what the problem was.

Her waters had broken.

"Uh Street, we have a situation." He gently squeezed (Y/n)'s arm while he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Jim. Although Deacon's statement had caught the attention of everyone who stopped what they were talking about to try and see what was going on.

"What? Oh, oh shit." Jim's wide brown eyes deepened and his lips parted but no more words filtered past his lips when he weaved round the table and looked over at his wife.

His hands found her waist and her hand, taking over from Deacon who took a step back once he knew (Y/n) was alright and not about to topple over.

Her head leaned back on Jim's shoulder as a petrified, apologetic expression flooded her face. She hadn't meant for this to happen. If (Y/n) knew the discomfort she had been feeling was because she was going to go into labour she wouldn't of come down to the base to see them. Not if she knew it would end with her waters breaking here, right when they were in the middle of a situation.

But then again, if she had stayed at home, she wouldn't of had Jim here with her from the start. And who knows what time he would of gotten to her after this whole situation was sorted out.

"Deak, what's up?"

"My water broke… I- I'm sorry," (Y/n) darted her eyes down before she looked up at Hondo as if she were about to burst into tears.

A round of "Oh Hell," and "Damn, that changes the plans," chorused through the air while (Y/n) squeezed Jim's hand and leaned back into him a little. She felt his hand slither round from her back to cup the side of her stomach while he leaned his chest down into her back.

His eyes darted around the room, gaging the expressions of the team whilst also waiting for someone to tell him what they were planning to do. If this place was on lockdown, Jim couldn't exactly walk out those doors and get his wife in the car to take her to the hospital.

"How long are we on lockdown?"

"Until the situation outside is contained." The look in Hicks's eyes was wavering, despite his calm, if cold, expression. He understood. He knew this was a serious situation for (Y/n) and Jim and he knew they would want to get out of here and get home and to the hospital as soon as possible.

"What do we do then?" Luca leaned on the desk and looked up at Hicks before glancing over at the couple opposite him. This wasn't an ideal situation, they would have to work something out.

"I need to take her to home-"

"Street, you'll both have to stay here. We can't risk you going out there without that shooter contained. Staying inside is the best bet right now, I'm sorry."

"Then I hope one of you is a midwife." Jim's snappy response caught everyone off guard and no one had a response for that, not even Hicks.

They didn't know how long it was going to take for them to contain the shooter and get their suspect evacuated from here and transported into custody. They didn't know what was going to happen within the base right now and how long lockdown was going to take. Hopefully it wouldn't take long, but Hicks wasn't going to take any risks.

He wasn't allowing anyone to leave the base until they knew for certain that everything was under control. (Y/n) was here as a visitor and that meant her safety was their concern. He wouldn't let her get hurt while she was here under their protection as a visitor and member of the public, not to mention they were all like one big family here.

"Can I sit down?" (Y/n) looked up behind her at Jim who was about to usher her with him to grab a chair when Hicks waved his hand out at them.

"Come on, you can both wait in my office until we can get you safely out of here."

That was a solution, for the time being. But it wasn't a long term solution and (Y/n) prayed they could go home soon. They needed to get ready, to get their maternity bag and the car seat and everything they needed from home. And they had to go get booked into the maternity ward at the hospital when the contractions got close.

They couldn't stay here for long, (Y/n) was in labour and the baby wasn't going to wait forever.

***

(Y/n) closed her eyes and buried her face in the arm of the sofa, smothering a groan. Her back was starting to ache and twinge from how she was sat hunched over, but she didn't know what to do with herself anymore. The contractions were getting worse and they were still at headquarters.

It didn't feel right to be sitting here in Hicks's office, but it was the best place to be right now. It was shut off from the rest of Swat, private and gave them room to move about or sit down, depending on what (Y/n) felt like doing.

She took as many deep breaths as she could manage, but it felt like her lungs were on fire. They were burning like she was breathing in smoke and she could feel her lungs inflating and deflating which was something (Y/n) never normally took notice of. And it was horrid.

"We're down to less than five minutes apart now." Chris looked down at her phone before she looked over at Jim who was sat on the sofa next to his wife.

He had one hand on (Y/n)'s back and the other clutching his knee like he was Bruce Banner doing his best not to turn into the Hulk. He looked over at one of his closest friends who had been timing the contractions for them. Chris was sat on the desk chair she had wheeled over towards the sofa. Her knees spread apart, elbows on her thighs and her phone now being tossed from one hand to the other to distract herself.

They both knew what this meant. If they didn't leave soon, there wouldn't be time to get (Y/n) to the hospital.

"I'll go find Hicks-"

"Don't you go anywhere!" (Y/n) clutched her hand around Jim's wrist before he had chance to lean away from her, let alone try and get up from the sofa.

She wasn't having him disappear around the base, she wasn't having Jim leave her alone for a second, not for anything. Their baby was coming and he had to stay with her, (Y/n) wasn't doing any of this alone.

"I'll go-" Chris didn't have chance to offer before there was a knock at the door and Hondo, Deacon and Luca filed into the room.

All three of them looked around like they weren't sure what they were expecting to find, but Jim's stern expression wasn't on their list. He looked livid. They had been stuck here for hours and time was dwindling away along with their chances of getting (Y/n) safely to a hospital to have this baby.

"Can we go now?" The determination in Jim's voice was like nothing any of them had ever heard before and the way he raised one brow made them all feel like school children about to be told off.

"The man in custody still hasn't been transported yet and Rocker's team haven't found all of the suspects. We can escort you outta here as soon as they've been found."

"By then it's gonna be too late. This is fucking Swat, we have to do something!"

Jim tightened his hand around (Y/n)'s while he slammed his other hand down on his thigh. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to be at home when (Y/n)'s water broke. She was supposed to be safe. Jim was supposed to drive her to the hospital and be there with her when she had the baby, not be here at work under lockdown.

Since the moment he met (Y/n), Jim wanted things to be different. He wanted their relationship to be like how he always dreamed. The opposite of his parent's marriage. He wanted to have kids with her and give his kids a stable upbringing and a loving home. He wanted (Y/n) and their baby to have a safe birth, not something unconventional like this.

"Ooh," (Y/n) closed her eyes and smushed her face into the arm rest again while she tugged on Jim's hand. "T-this baby's coming. Someone's g… gonna have to help me!"

The desperation in (Y/n)'s voice was coupled with tears soaking into the sofa as she groaned in agony. If they wouldn't take her to hospital, then one of them was going to have to do something. She couldn't have this baby by herself and her body was telling her it was time.

A look seemed to pass between them all before Deacon rolled his eyes at the team and crouched down in front of (Y/n).

"Would you be okay with me helping you? I'm not exactly trained, but I've been through this four times already." Deacon rested his hand on (Y/n)'s knee as he waited patiently for her to talk to him.

He was by no means qualified as a midwife and he wasn't an expert on labour and giving birth, but he had four kids. Deacon had been there for every birth and he had seen them all play out. He cut the cords with each child as well so he had some expertise in this area. He would help until they could get some medics down here.

(Y/n) twisted her head so her cheek was meshed into the sofa and she nodded with a pleading look in her eyes. She didn't care who helped her, she would let any of the team coach her through this if they knew what to do. She just needed help.

She went back to clutching Jim's hand and she held it to her chest while she sat up properly and sank back into the sofa. Her head fell onto Jim's shoulder when he shuffled up so he was sat beside her with his left arm around the back of her shoulders. His lips attached to the side of her head while Deacon crouched in front of them to see if (Y/n) was dilated or not.

This was definitely going to change the dynamics when (Y/n) eventually came back to work. The team weren't supposed to be here or be involved in the birth of their baby.

"Okay, this baby is coming now. Luca, we're gonna need towels, hot water, blankets and a medic bag from inventory."

"I'm on it." Luca was out the door in a flash to go and grab what they needed, fist-bumping the air at the thought of having a kid be born at Swat. This was going to be a first.

"Alright… I think you can start pushing whenever you're ready."

She didn't want to. She didn't want to be doing this here. As much as (Y/n) loved the team who were now her family, having one of them delivering her baby felt a little too close for comfort. She was changing the boundaries. Giving Deacon a scarred image burned into his mind for life.

She briefly looked up when she noticed movement. It was Hondo, moving towards the desk at the other side of the room so it didn't look like he was being a spectator. He knew it wasn't nice for (Y/n) to be doing this here and he didn't want to observe or make her feel uncomfortable.

He reached out for the phone on the desk so he could send a call through to the Commander and let him know what was happening. And to tell him they would have to send out for an ambulance.

"I'm scared," (Y/n) could barely find her voice and when she did, her breathing hitched and her voice came out higher than usual but at half the volume. She was barely talking above a whisper.

"You don't have to be scared, I'm right here, we're all here." Jim pressed a kiss to her cheek and squeezed her into his chest. They were going to look after her, she was with some of the safest people in the country. It would be okay.

He looked behind Deacon who was looking around the room for anything he might have to use if they got desperate, and looked over towards Chris. As if they were sharing the same thought, Chris scooted the desk chair around until she was beside the sofa.

When she held her hand out in front of (Y/n), a panicked smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she took her friend's hand. Having Chris on one side, and Jim attached to her other side made (Y/n) feel protected and safe.

And she heard Chris whisper a quiet but encouraging "You got this." which made her feel a little better.

"Alright alright I think I got everything we need to have the first kid born in Swat."

Luca sounded like a cheerleader pumping them up for a big game rather than a team member trying to help a friend have a baby. But his excitement was somehow soothing and made a smile light up Jim's face, despite the panic he was feeling surging through his body right now.

Deacon was rather impressed that Luca remembered everything and managed to carry it all up here.

He set down a pile of towels beside the sofa, two blankets, one of which he handed out to Jim so it could be draped over (Y/n)'s lap for modesty. He dumped the medic bag from his shoulder and a bowl of warm water next to Deacon.

(Y/n) tried to push back into the sofa and brace her feet properly on the floor so she wasn't at risk of sliding down into Deacon's lap. The last thing she wanted was to end up hurting him or landing on the floor. And she watched through blurry eyes as he washed his hands thoroughly, found some gloves in the medic bag and got a towel on his lap.

They were really doing this here. In the Commander's office.

"Okay, I think you're crowning."

(Y/n) felt a little better when Jim leaned his chin on her shoulder and she coiled their entwined hands closer to merge their hands against her chest.

This wasn't the way either of them dreamt about having their first child together, but it was comforting to have the team around them. (Y/n) couldn't of done this alone at home or amongst strangers if the team hadn't of been here at the right time.

She tried to smile when she felt Jim attaching his lips to her neck and she leaned to the right to press her side more into his embrace to try and keep herself relaxed as much as possible.

"Okay (Y/n), I need you to do big pushes, let's have this kid." Deacon pushed up on his knees and moved his hands to (Y/n)'s thighs, seeing the familiar sight of a head being born.

"You're doing so well," Jim murmured against her neck as he darted his eyes around the office he hadn't spent more than a minute in at a time.

It was strange to be sat, almost relaxing, in the Commander's office. This was somewhere the whole squad usually felt uncomfortable, where they would come to if they had a problem or if they thought they were going to get reprimanded for something. This wasn't somewhere they would sit and chat and definitely not somewhere (Y/n) imagined she would be having her baby.

The next time she came to Commander Hicks's office in the future, this was going to be the memory that always came to mind.

"I can't believe I'm actually here for this." Chris gave (Y/n)'s hand a tight squeeze and the grin on her face made (Y/n)'s heart skip.

They had already told Chris that she was Godmother to their baby, there was no question about it. Not when she was Jim's best friend and she had always been there for the couple, it was only fitting that she would be their child's auntie and Godmother.

But Chris didn't think she would get the honour of witnessing her godchild's birth. She was expecting to be the first person to receive the phone call to say the baby was born, but this was even better.

(Y/n) pulled her knees up a little higher and leaned forward, feeling grateful when Jim leaned with her. He was like a backboard keeping her up straight and letting her lean her weight onto him so she didn't have to think or bother with holding herself upright.

"And the head's out, take a breath. Then little pushes, okay? You're doing great (Y/n)."

(Y/n) tried to nod and it was a relief to see that Deacon didn't look at all phased or panicked. He looked as calm as if he were leading them on a callout or giving them orders around base. This seemed to be a natural occurrence for Deacon.

Just a little more effort, and she would have a baby in her arms. All the pain would be worth it when she saw their baby and watched them be placed into Jim's arms. All his life since he was ten years old, all Jim ever wanted was a family. He'd grown up for the first decade of his life with bickering, fighting parents and a sense of fear and dread towards his father. After he went into foster care, he felt a gratitude towards his mum that he could never repay, she made him believe she had saved his life and gave him guilt.

All he wanted in the system was to be let out and live with a loving family, he wanted something to call his own.

Now, Jim had that. He was about to have a family of his own that would love him unconditionally and be his and his alone. He would have (Y/n) and a child to shower with love.

"(Y/n), you're doing great, but I need you to keep pushing as swiftly as you can for me, okay?"

(Y/n) opened her eyes and tried to blink back into focus after being lost in her thoughts, but she shuddered when she realised Deacon didn't look as calm as he had done a few moments ago. She tugged on Jim's hand, pulling his arm across her chest while her head tilted to one side and she scrutinised the look on Deacon's face.

His mouth was set into a thin, straight line and his jaw was locked tight like he was trying to keep some secrets at bay. His brows furrowed like his concentration had amplified ten times and he was moving the towel in his arms a bit higher to reach for the baby.

"W-what's wrong?"

A frown pulled on Jim's face in place of a smile and he tightened his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist while his other hand was confiscated and still held into her chest. He let her lean more into his chest while he looked down at Deacon and silently shook his head to imply that he didn't know what was wrong, but he needed to know. Now.

"The cord's around the neck." Deacon diverted his eyes up to look at Jim before he shifted his attention right back to the baby he was delivering.

He didn't want to panic (Y/n) in case she stopped pushing or it slowed down her momentum if she began to panic. But he knew she heard him when her legs tensed and she tried to lean forward like she wanted to see for herself if it was true.

He couldn't risk moving the cord now when there wasn't enough of the umbilical cord exposed and Deacon couldn't pull on the cord when the baby and placenta weren't delivered yet. He could cause a lot of damage trying to move the cord right now, he had to wait.

"Deak…"

"It's okay, as long as you keep pushing we can easily sort this. Trust me, okay?" When (Y/n) nodded, Deacon looked up at Chris. "I'm gonna need an extra set of hands."

Chris squeezed (Y/n)'s hand tightly before she let go and slid off the desk chair so she was crouched down on her knees beside Deacon. She hated the way (Y/n) shook and her arm seemed to stretch out, following her friend because she needed that support. She needed to hold someone's hand.

But they were both surprised when Luca held a firm hand out in front of (Y/n) as he crouched beside the sofa in Chris's place. He didn't mind offering some comfort, and (Y/n) could squeeze or even break his hand if she needed to. They were all here to help her through this.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned forward as much as she could until she felt Jim's arm tightening around her waist like he thought she was about to fall onto the floor. He kept tight hold around her and leaned his chest into her side, moulding around her like a safety blanket as she cried out and started to shake from how badly she was trying to push.

She could feel her feet fidgeting against the floor, anxious to try and push up or move or slide against the floor. She wanted to move, to do anything to relieve the tension and get this over with.

Her breaths came out in small pants and she screamed just as Deacon shifted his arms up and wrapped the towel around the newborn.

"There we go, you've done it."

When she felt Jim's chin settle on her shoulder so he could peer down, (Y/n) tried to look up at him, but he wasn't smiling. His brows were furrowed and he was watching Deacon closely like a hawk with dark eyes and a firmly set jaw.

Jim's stomach tensed and his nose crinkled when he watched Deacon place the small bundle into Chris's waiting arms so he could slide his finger in between the newborn's neck and the blushing pink cord. He gave a small tug and pulled the cord up, unravelling it from the baby's neck as carefully but swiftly as he cold.

They didn't know how long the cord had been like that or if it had been tight or loose. It could of happened during labour, it could have been like that before her water broke, they didn't know.

"Alright, there we go little one." Deacon pressed his fingers to the newborn's lips, checking the airways weren't blocked before he started to rub his fingers over their chest to stimulate the lungs into working. They needed the baby to breathe; everyone on the team seemed to be holding their breaths in nervous anticipation.

The moment a small cry flooded through the air, (Y/n) felt like she was going to faint and she started to gasp for breath. She felt Jim's wet lips smothering the side of her head and she leaned into the touch, giving a small tug on his hand as she grinned and closed her eyes.

"It's a boy." A smile finally flooded Deacon's lips as he found a few things in the medical kit to use as clamps so he could cut the cord.

He could see Chris was almost at the point of shaking as she stared down at the little boy in her arms who was now her Godson. It wasn't often that Deacon had seen Chris cry, much less happy tears like this but the sight as was lovely as it was surprisingly.

She didn't seem like she was very willing to let the newborn go, but she begrudgingly pushed up on her knees and leaned forward so she could place the little boy into (Y/n)'s trembling arms.

(Y/n) could feel a mixture of her and Jim's tears running down her face when he smothered his lips against her cheek. They had a little boy. They'd had their baby. He was here, and he had been delivered by their team.

Jim realised he was starting to get the shakes when his right hand let go of (Y/n)'s and he cupped his hand around the back of their boy's head. He looked oddly small, curled up into (Y/n)'s chest like that, but the way he started to smack and part his lips made a laugh tumble past Jim's lips.

"He's a handsome little guy," Luca ran his hand up and down (Y/n)'s shoulder for a few moments while he sneaked a glance at the bundle in her arms.

(Y/n) traced her thumb over the back of her boy's head before she looked up at Jim and moved her arms towards him. She could see the light sparkling in his eyes at the prospect of holding his boy, his first baby. And tears were freely falling down his face when he unravelled his arm from around her waist so he could take their boy into his own arms.

It was a comforting weight to feel in his arms and leaning against his chest and it somehow made Jim feel like his whole life until this point had been hollow. This is what he had been missing. (Y/n) and their boy had been what Jim had been searching for all this time, and now he'd found them.

"Look at this little guy," Hondo grinned and leaned over the sofa while he patted his hand down on Jim's back. "The first person to be born at Swat, and the first Swat member to ever have a baby here at headquarters."

"The only person, born at Swat." (Y/n) corrected while she let herself slump back into the sofa and succumb to the adrenaline that was making her tremble all over again. "I'm n-not doing this again with you all, sorry."

As much as (Y/n) loved the team and was thankful to them for what they had done, she didn't want to repeat this experience. Any other children she and Jim had would either be born at home or preferably at the hospital, not here at Swat. (Y/n) would be the one and only person to have her baby born here, and be the only Swat member to give birth here as she wasn't repeating this again and she knew Chris wasn't likely to give birth here either.

A round of laughs filled the air and the team leaned over to try and get a better look at the newborn. But when (Y/n) looked down at Deacon, something softened in her eyes.

He stripped the gloves from his hands and washed his hands and arms in the warm water bowl beside him. His expression was slightly dazed, but he didn't look as exasperated or shocked as the rest of them, and he was the one who had just delivered a baby today.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and gently nudged her elbow into Jim's arm before she glanced her eyes from him down to Deacon. A silent exchange happened between them like they were sending secret messages to one another. But they were on the same wavelength, Jim knew exactly what (Y/n) was silently trying to ask and he nodded.

She gently nudged her trembling knee into Deacon's arm to gain his attention. "Thank you." She was never going to be able to thank him enough for what he had just done for them, but they knew a way to share their gratitude.

"You're very welcome," Deacon suddenly looked tired, like the energy had dwindled out of him with all the excitement flooding the room. As if it was finally settling in and dawning on him what he had just experienced.

"Didn't think you'd get to deliver your Godchild, did you?"

The question was so calm, so normal and said almost in passing that Deacon laughed and nodded, about to make a remark before the words actually settled in his mind. Once they registered, his brows furrowed and his head snapped up to look from (Y/n) to Jim like he didn't quite believe them.

Everyone knew Chris was Godmother, but the couple hadn't made up their minds on who would be Godfather. Deacon had just sealed that choice for them.

"Wh- me, really?"

Jim lifted his arms a bit higher so he could cuddle his baby boy closer to his chest and he kissed his temple delicately. And when he looked over at Deacon, his lips formed a proud smile.

"You've earned it."

#jim street x fem!reader #imagine #jim street fluff #jim street imagine #jim street x reader #jim x reader #david deacon kay #hondo harrelson #dominique luca #chris alonso #swat cbs #swat x reader

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 months ago

Text

Pairing: Russell Shaw xf!reader, Reader POV

Summary: The last thing that you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him. Reader is the niece of Velma and Teddi!

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just in case I missed anything. Blood, Cleaning Out A Wound, Mentions of Allergies? Gunshots, Some Cursing, A Bit of Sexual Innuendo, Sexual fantasy/reader has active imagination, Self-deprecating Thoughts/Body Issues (reader), Mentions of Infidelity, Reader Is A Single Mom, Appearance Of Creepy-Jerk Ex Husband, Probably a Poor Description Of What It’s Like To Be A Single Mom (I tried my best, please I do not mean to offend anyone❤️), Russell Shaw might be a little bit OOC. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy."

Song Inspiration: Long As I Can See The Light By Creedence Clearwater Revival

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! This is my first time writing for Russell Shaw, so, please be gentle. 😅

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

A/N: I finally watched Tracker… Could you tell? 😂

Sunday nights, in your opinion, were the worst.

It was like the last few moments of freedom before you were thrust into a busy work week, like the last few rays of light before the coming darkness that you barely survived with copious amounts of coffee and bloodied fingertips. Monday always loomed, but never as much as on Sunday nights.

The dull thud of your phone vibrating against your wooden bedside table grates on your ears and pulls you from the sweet precipice of sleep before you can fall into the void.

It felt as if you’d just collapsed into your bed and one look at the alarm clock on your bedside table as you blinked your bleary eyes confirmed it. It was 3:58 am, which meant you had been in bed for exactly three minutes.

You were still covered in chocolate cupcake batter, pink frosting, and rainbow sprinkles from the last six hours you'd spent in the kitchen making gluten free, sugar free, and peanut free cupcakes for a bake sale at your son’s school.

Even though you hadn't volunteered Stephanie Jacobson, or rather the wicked witch of the PTA, had cornered you in the pick-up line on Friday afternoon to remind you of your "duties as a parent" and the coming bake sale to support the building of the new gym. And then she’d handed you a list of student allergies and asked you to create something that was safe for everyone.

Taste be damned.

Why the school needed a new gym you didn't know, but the guilt that rose when Stephanie mentioned your "duties as a parent" was enough to make you say yes to whatever she asked you.

You had enough guilt already about raising your kids without a stable father figure, and the last thing you needed was guilt from a stuck up bitch in the PTA.

Stephanie reminded you of the girls in high school that used to pick at their food, the ones that knew exactly what to say to make you feel like a freak, the ones who dated the football players and spent their Friday nights wearing cheerleading uniforms and waving pom poms, and the ones who basically made everyone else's life a living hell.

Everything about her screamed superior. The flawless way she curled her perfect platinum blonde hair, the stylish clothes she wore than never seemed to have a wrinkle or a mashed carrot smeared on the pants, the supple breasts that she swore were real, a perfectly toned stomach that never seemed to change despite her having a child two months ago, and the easy way she handled all of her three children with a flourish of her left hand that housed a 6 karat diamond ring from her gorgeous husband that was so attentive, perfect, and rich that it made you feel sick to your stomach.

All of which anyone could read on her mommy blog that she'd dubbed "Little Mistakes Make Perfect Lessons," and the same blog that she'd created an empire from.

Fuck, you hated her.

Mostly because despite everything you tried you never had enough time in the day to look as flawless as she did.

Your hair never seemed to be as bouncy or perfectly styled, you never had time to put makeup on, you always had mashed carrot on your pants or some form of cheerio or baby food, as many times as you tried to carve out time for the gym you never seemed to make it, the small ring you'd once wore on your finger was sitting idle in your jewelry box upstairs where it had been for the past year after your husband of six years told you that he met someone else, and your stomach and your breasts… you didn't want to think about that right now.

You had two kids and you weren't going to pretend that it did nothing to your body, any part of your body. And as many times as you saw all the other mothers around you who were proud of the way they looked, you never had their confidence, especially not after the comments that your ex-husband had made each time the two of you finally had some time to be alone together.

But that wasn't to say you hated being a mom, you loved it, wouldn't change it for the world. It was just sometimes you wished you had a little help, that, and you wished that Mondays didn't exist.

You groan as you reach for the phone that still vibrates desperately on your bedside table and flip it over to see who's calling before you answer it.

"Colter, why the hell are you calling me at four am?" You half moan, pulling the comforter up over your head as if that'll make Monday go away.

You'd been close to murder several times, first when you found your husband in your bed with his nineteen year-old secretary, second when your local coffee shop was out of espresso and you did your entire shift at the hospital with no coffee, and Colter Shaw waking you up at almost four in the morning was quickly becoming number three.

"Because I didn't want to wake up Emma or Luke. Can you open the door?" He replies, stating the names of your children, sounding slightly out of breath.

"What door?" You groan again, eyes still shut wishing that this was just a bad dream and Colter wasn't calling you because he needed your help… again.

"The front door. Please, I need you to let me in."

"Why are you here? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Did you try to call Teddi or Vel-"

"I'll explain when you come open the door."

"By doing that I'd have to get up."

"Please."

You hesitate. Colter didn't usually say please, let alone twice whenever he showed up needing your help.

You'd met him by accident.

Sure your Aunt Teddi had talked about the "rewardist" that she and your Aunt Velma worked with, but you hadn't been expecting to ever meet him. But when Colter got shot on a job and showed up at Teddi and Velma's home you'd helped patch him up. You'd been there picking up your six year old son Luke and your three year old daughter Emma, after work. Teddi and Velma watched them for you when your deadbeat ex Lance couldn't be bothered to give you the support you needed.

Which was all the time despite his continuous arguing that he was in their lives enough and if anything it was your fault that he didn't have more time with them.

Each time he said that it made you want to slam his head in the door of his brand new bright red BMW, the one he'd bought right after you found him in your bedroom plowing his secretary now girlfriend Crystal. Or as you liked to remember her, the girl who still believed that Santa Clause existed and that the U.S government was hiding him from the world.

But Colter had been hurt and it was just fate that you were there at your aunts home to pick up your kids.

Being an ER nurse meant that you knew how to patch Colter up and it wasn't long before he went on his way. That was about four months ago and since then you'd talked to him occasionally when he'd pop by at your aunts home or just to see if you could help him with something.

"Five minutes." You sigh.

This time you crawl out of bed, standing just to the side of it for a second shaking your head to clear the sleep, and grab the long sleeved blue colored duster/robe that was hanging on the back of your bedroom door. Navigating your way down the stairs in the dark as quietly as you can, while half asleep was difficult, but somehow you avoid falling to your death.

Unfortunate, because now you have to go see what Colter wants at freaking 4 am.

The second story home had been you ex-husband's idea, stated that the two of you needed "room to grow" and that the two of you were "investing in your future."

You frown at the thought.

Yeah, room to grow right into your fucking secretary.

As if you needed another blow to your self esteem, but looking at the skinny red-haired goddess that he'd traded you in for that was about as dumb as a rock had been enough to send you so low you might as well be navigating the Marianas Trench in a submarine with a Megalodon chasing after you.

Maybe that means I'd get to be with Jason Stratham.

That thought was welcome. Honestly the thought of any man was a comfort, especially in the dry spell you'd been having since -well- since you'd had Emma three years ago.

Not gonna think about that right now.

The smell of chocolate cupcakes hung heavy in the air as you crossed through the messy living room, wafting out through the open concept kitchen into the space. One look into the kitchen would show enough cupcakes to make anyone salivate, and yes maybe you'd eaten a few before going up to bed, but eating the chocolate didn't count if it was on Sunday night and you could always go to the gym tomorrow…

Yeah. Like that'll happen.

You open the front door. "Alright, somebody better be dying Colter or I swear that I'll-" You stop mid-sentence when you take in the scene on your porch.

Colter is standing there, looking worse for wear. His usual black jacket is gone, he's got a black eye and a scrape along one of his perfect cheekbones, but that's not who you're looking at.

Colter isn't alone.

There's a man leaning heavily on Colter, his muscular right arm is thrown across Colter's shoulders and due to the fact that the man is a little bigger than Colter, he's buckling slightly under his weight. The man is wearing a green army jacket that is soaked around his left shoulder in blood, his dark hair is falling long into his bearded face, and his skin is a few shades paler than it should be. But that doesn't make him any less handsome.

The man still manages to throw you a sly grin, brilliant green eyes shining beneath the strands of his dark hair. "I think you got your wish sweetheart."

"You're not dying Russell." Colter sighs as if he's annoyed. "Hi." He directs at you.

You do feel a little bit bad about saying that now, but you shake it off.

"What the hell happened?" You say as loud as you dare and pull the front door further open so Colter can drag the man, now named "Russell" into your home.

"Shoot out." Colter breathes. "Where do you want him?"

"Kitchen table." You say trying to reach for Russell's left arm to help Colter, but he groans low under his breath and you retract your hand.

"You've got to be a little gentle with me sweetheart." Russell laughs more to himself, but it comes out in a choked sound. "But you can have me wherever you want."

"Colter, he needs to go to the hospital." You say, following behind them, keeping your voice down. "I don't think that I can-"

"Can't, they'll report it. They have to report all gunshots, you know that." Colter grunts, helping Russell lay back on the large kitchen table. "Why are there so many cupcakes in here?"

"Bake sale at Luke’s school." You clip while waving a hand and looking down at Russell who is laying on the kitchen table.

You can't deny that he's attractive, even in this condition. Russell has the perfect ruggedly handsome features that would make the smartest girl stupid and combined with the piercing green eyes that shine beneath the hair that's fallen forward into his face, even you could see yourself being susceptible to his charm.

Fuck.

Deep down you know that Colter is right, that if he did go to the hospital they'd be required to report it and that meant police and an official report. You figured that it was the last thing that Colter wanted.

Then again the guy has so many marks on his record already. You eye the man on your kitchen table. Russell kinda looks like he would have a few marks too.

"Don't want who did this to find him." Colter clarifies.

"So instead you brought him to my house where my children are?" You cross your arms over your chest.

The fear that whatever Colter and Russell had stumbled upon following behind them to your home made a cold trickle of fear race down your spine.

"We weren't followed." Colter soothes. "I promise I'd never do that to you. And I've got Bobby doing a trace to make sure they don't come close."

He actually looks a little hurt that you'd think that of him. Colter was a lot of things, but uncaring was not one of them.

You relax, but don't apologize despite the guilt swimming in your gut. "Fine. Give me a second." You leave the room to find the first aid kit in the hall closet, the same one that you'd made for your aunts to keep at their house if Colter showed up in the middle of the night with this exact problem. You'd even been involved enough to show your aunts how to deal with a gunshot wound if you weren't there.

When you get back in the room, Colter is removing Russell's jacket, and Russell grits his teeth when it jostles his left arm.

You set down the kit and reach for the bottom of Russell's shirt to pull it up off him, and he chuckles.

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink first? Better yet we could have a few bottles of my home brew-"

"She's not going to help you, if you annoy her." Colter interrupts.

"I told you that I didn't need anyone's help, I'm perfectly fine- ow!" Russell exclaims when you accidentally yank the shirt over his left arm. "Your bedside manner is a little lacking." He grunts, but his eyes still twinkle with humor.

"Too bad. I'm tired and I've been making chocolate cupcakes for the past six hours, so you get what you get and you don't throw a fit."

"What?" Russell grins at the rhyme that you often tell your children.

You shake your head, and drop your eyes to his chest. There are two perfect circles on his right upper pectoral muscle, but not high enough to reach the collarbone and one in his left bicep where blood seeps around the bullets, but truthfully you're trying not to notice how perfectly muscular he is. There are dark splashes of tattoos against his skin, swirling around other scars that resemble slashes and bullet wounds that you wish to drag your fingertips across to study each mark, to memorize each one beneath the soft pads of your fingers.

How is he just as beautiful covered in blood?

You clear your throat to focus back at the task at hand, examining the current wounds. "Okay. The good news is that the one on your arm is through and through, but these two," Your hand hovers over the two on his right upper chest. "I've got to extract the bullets. Which means that this is going to hurt."

"Been through worse sweetheart."

Your eyes scan the rest of his scarred muscular chest thoughtfully. "Yeah, you have." You murmur it more to yourself than to Russell, but he still grins.

Colter's phone rings shrilly in the kitchen and he groans. "One second. Try not to make her want to kill you Rus."

"No promises little bro."

Oh, so this is Colter's brother.

You'd heard little bits and pieces about Colter's brother, mostly second hand from your Aunt Velma. One of the best things about going over to Teddi and her home was sitting in the living room and hearing Velma gossip about everything she heard from Teddi while drinking wine and eating fancy cheese that you could never afford.

Russell Shaw was no exception.

"Alone at last." Russell says with a wink. "I didn't think he'd ever leave."

"I'm going to get some water to clean these with." You reply, ignoring him, but when you turn away the end of your mouth quirks up into a smile.

He wasn't what you were expecting based on all the rumors that you'd heard from both of your aunts, in fact, you thought he was kind of charming.

You roll up your sleeves and wash your hands before turning back to Russell. He's sitting up on your kitchen table, hands braced on his sides, with his legs spread wide apart. He doesn’t look like someone with three gunshot wounds, and you wonder if this is a regular day for him. Colter certainly didn't get shot that much.

"So are you a rewardist too?" You ask standing between his legs and trying not to focus on the warmth of his breath against your collar bone.

"Naw. I work for a private security contractor." He breezes.

"Oh." You swallow, looking up into his green eyes for a minute. They're even more beautiful up close, green with flecks of gold around the iris that flicker in the light like stars. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"You don't gotta ask me that sweetheart, the answer will always be yes."

You flush and brace your hand on his left shoulder, before pouring water into the two wounds on the right side of his chest, trying to clean them the best you can before you extract what's left of the bullets. His skin is warm and smooth beneath the palm of your hand and it's difficult to focus.

Just pretend you're in the hospital and you're treating a patient. You take in a shallow breath. He's just a patient and he's not that good looking.

You know you're lying to yourself, but you were trying your best. It probably didn’t help given the current dry spell you were in or the fact that he even smelled good. Something like gunpowder, leather, and a hint of something spicy that you bet was his shampoo. It prickled under your nose, and activated something in the back of your mind that was having a hard time being quiet. You hadn't been this close to a man you found attractive in a long time.

"Okay. This is going to hurt." You say as you look through the small medical kit that you'd grabbed from the hall closet for the tweezers, trying to calm the thudding of your heart.

"It's okay." Russell replies. "Do what you have to baby. I won't stop you."

You weren't prepared for the warmth that bloomed in the pit of your stomach when he called you baby in the wonderfully rough rumble of his voice.

A voice like that could convince me to jump into a pit filled with alligators with no regrets. Fuck. I'd bet that a voice like that could make me- FOCUS. I will focus. He is Colter's brother and he just got shot. He doesn't need you lusting over him.

Extracting the bullets is as painful for you as it is for him. Watching the way his face scrunches up in pain hurts you more than you thought it would. His hands grip the rim of the wooden kitchen table so hard that they're turning white, and Russell's jaw is clenched so tight that you're afraid that it's going to snap.

You squeeze his left shoulder to give him some comfort. "Almost done." You murmur, searching for the second bullet.

Russell lets out a breath when you finally fish out the other bullet and drop it into an empty cup with a resounding "ping" just as Colter walks back into the room looking worried.

"What?" Russell asks him, looking over your head at his brother.

"That was Bobby. He said that the trace we put on the phone just got a hit a few miles north of here." Colter states. "I'm gonna go check it out."

"Alright, I'll come with." Russell starts to get up, but you push him back with your right hand that you've still got pressed against his left shoulder. Difficult given the fact that he was almost twice the size of you and broader than anyone you'd ever seen. And also difficult because of the way you were trying to ignore how good it felt to feel the pull of his muscles beneath your hand.

"No. You still need stitches and I haven't finished patching you up." You clear your throat, but it still sounds a little hoarse.

"Baby as much as I like you ordering me around-“

"It's alright Russell, I've got this. Just stay here and let her take care of you." Colter interrupts.

Russell frowns at his younger brother. "I'm fine."

"You're not." Colter rolls his eyes. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up." He turns to look at you. "I'm sorry that we woke you up-"

"It's okay." You shrug. "But you owe me."

"Just add it to my bill." Colter smirks.

Honestly, you weren't as angry as you were when you answered the phone. Something about Russell was different and you didn’t mind helping him at all.

He wasn't like anyone that you had ever met, certainly not in the circles you ran with.

All the dads from your mom friends were blue and white collar workers who worked in the big office buildings downtown, wore suits to work and were more straight-laced, but there was something refreshing about Russell.

He was mysterious, sexy, and his had this aura of self-resilience and survival that you found immensely attractive. Especially when compared to your ex, who couldn't survive without his mocha-caramel double shot latte or wifi.

Russell was the exact opposite of him and you found yourself wanting to know more. More about the almost beautiful scars that curved over his muscular body, more about each tattoo that he’d chosen, and more about him.

He seemed like the kind of guy that hid his trauma under easy smiles and jokes, the kind of person that shrugged off anything that seemed remotely serious with a well placed joke, but you could feel that there was something deeper beneath that he didn’t allow many to see.

And you wanted him to show you.

You weren't sure where any of this was coming from. Russell probably was about as stable and consistent as his brother, and you liked consistency. Spontaneity and surprises tended to make you anxious. But not with Russell.

Though the stability might have been an issue. You were a single working mother, which meant that you didn't want to introduce some random guy into your children's life just to have them get attached and him to bail with no strings attached and-

Calm down. You just met the guy, it's not like he's asking you out on a date.

When Colter leaves and after you’ve cleaned around the wounds the best you can with some alcohol, you realize just how quiet it is in your kitchen.

“You know, I think I’ve seen you before.” Russell says breaking the silence while you search for a needle and thread in the medical kit.

“Really? Where?" You ask looking up.

“In my dreams.”

“Wow." You smile at him. "That line is pretty cheesy."

You shift your right hand over to begin to sew up the wounds on his chest. Russell doesn't even wince when you push the needle through, almost as if he didn't notice it at all.

It made sense, given how many scars and tattoos covered his body. You remember what he said about "being through worse" and it made you feel bad for him, to worry about him. Odd given the fact that the two of you had just met.

"Well I'm a little distracted at the moment sweetheart. It's not often that I get such a beautiful woman to take care of me."

"I thought you didn't need my help?" You smirk.

"Maybe I did." He admits sheepishly.

"Mhmm."

"So how do you know my brother?"

“Why?”

“Trying to see if you’re off limits or not.” Russell tilts his head to the side and flashes a charming smile.

You laugh at his boldness. You’d never met someone so upfront before, it was refreshing. Most of the men you’d meet occasionally at work tended to beat around the bush and made you want to give them a map to get to the point. "We met when he got shot a few months ago."

"Oh so the two of you aren't-" He wiggles his eyebrows and you snort.

"No."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I was just wondering why not?"

"What?"

"Well, you're gorgeous, you're smart, and you're not scared of blood or gunshots. Colter really seems to be dropping the ball."

"Colter doesn't exactly have a stable lifestyle. And I'm kind of complicated."

You were, there wasn't any way around it.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I've got two kids."

Russell blinks in surprise. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You hum continuing your task, not phased by the blood at all.

His eyes trace your figure for a minute, making a shiver travel down your spine. It was the first time in a long time that you were okay with someone looking at you like that and to be honest, the first time that you wanted someone to look at you like that in a while.

After everything that happened with your ex-husband and his secretary you were more inclined to sit on your couch with a glass of wine and read away your troubles with a steamy romance novel that did more for you than any of your ex-husband's attempts to satisfy you. It also didn't help that you had no interest in going out with your few friends and meeting someone at a club who probably would never call you again and probably wouldn't be as enthusiastic to learn that you were a mom.

You'd only been on one date since you'd broken it off with your husband with your aunts accountant Jerry, and the date stuttered to a halt when he learned you had two children and weren't interested in having an open relationship.

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

“Really? The mountain of chocolate cupcakes wasn’t a clue?” You arch an eyebrow with a smirk, while gently tying off the string to close the first wound before moving on to the second.

“I thought you just really liked baking. And I’m okay with coming home every night to a mountain of chocolate cupcakes if it means you’re there too.” He winks.

“Not sure you want any of those.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’re gluten free, sugar free, and nut free.”

The horrified look on Russell’s face makes you feel like you’d just told him that hot dogs do in fact contain trace amounts of dog.

“Why on earth would you make them like that?! They're not even cupcakes anymore!" He exclaims.

You found it funny that he seemed more upset over the mutilation of the chocolate cupcakes than over being shot.

Maybe he's always like this?

"I know. I'm a monster." You sigh. "But Stephanie Jacobson said I had to." You let out a frustrated sigh with her name.

Bringing anything other than what she asked for was a suicide mission. The last person who did that was Gale Smith in the great Fourth of July Cook-out calamity of 2021. In Gale's defense, no one though that the bushes would catch fire so fast, but Stephanie had a memory like an elephant so Gale decided to transfer her children to the school one town over. The last thing you wanted was for your name to go down in history for the Cupcake Catastrophe of 2024.

Russell leans forward and lowers his voice like it's a secret. “Is Stephanie your imaginary friend?”

“No!” You laugh. “She’s this other mom at my son’s school who said I wasn’t living up to my ‘duties as a parent’ and that I needed to ‘participate.’”

"She sounds great."

"Oh yeah, we're practically best friends." You continue to work on the other wounds in the silence that follows.

"I bet you're a good mom." Russell says watching you with an unreadable expression. He's leaning a little bit towards you still, making the smell gunmetal, leather, spice, and just a hint of mint come through the space between the two of you.

Damn he smells really good.

"Uh-huh. You've known me for ten minutes and you haven't seen me with my children-"

"I can tell."

"Is that your superpower or something?" You reach for a bandage to lay over the wound in his chest smiling to yourself. "All the other useful superpowers like being bulletproof got taken?"

"I don't think it's useless if it makes you smile like that when I say it, sweetheart."

Your eyes flick upwards to Russell's face. His green eyes are shining in the light of your kitchen, his dark hair still hanging over his forehead, and he is still just as ridiculously handsome as he was the moment Colter dragged him through your front door. You don’t remember why you were so mad at Colter anymore.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too smooth for your own good?" You raise your eyebrow.

"No ma'am." Russell cracks an even wider smile and it makes you loose all feeling in your legs. He was just so effortlessly handsome that it made you want to do something stupid, like have sex with him on top of the same kitchen table that you serve blueberry pancakes to your children.

"Hmm." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Well, now you know and maybe now that you're aware, it could prevent you from getting shot."

"Are you saying I got shot because I'm too smooth?"

"Maybe."

"Because usually it has a different effect."

"Huh. Well in that case, maybe try using some of that to smooth things over and you'd avoid getting shot." You begin to wrap another fresh bandage around the bullet wound on his arm, bracing your free hand against his chest, trying to ignore the way his skin is warm and chiseled beneath your palm.

He had the kind of body that you'd never imagined actually existed. Russell Shaw looked like he walked out one of the romance novels you loved so much.

Hell, they should use pictures of him to make the book covers.

"I'll remember that next time." Russell pauses. "But then it means I wouldn’t get shot and I wouldn't get to have you patch me up."

"I guess not."

You didn't think that you'd smiled as much as you had in the past twenty minutes with him than you had your entire five year marriage. Not to mention that it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't trying to convince you why they should be allowed to have a cookie before dinner.

A charged silence passes through the air between the two of you, his eyes locked on yours sending goosebumps over your skin. You weren't sure if anyone had ever looked at you like that before. You'd noticed that most gave you the obligatory skate over, but Russell didn't. He looked at you as if he was studying you as if he were genuinely curious to know more.

Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, toned abdomen, and muscular arms, noting that he's the kind of strong and broad that was made to handle someone a little more curvy like you. And you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it more than once since Russell came through your front door.

You felt your mind sink into the fantasy of Russell pining you to the kitchen table and feeling the warmth of his rough hands against your body-

Snap out of it. The guy is bleeding, he got shot. He needs to rest.

"I think you'll survive." You smile pulling back from him to clear your head. It was much easier when you couldn't smell him as strongly. "And if Colter isn't going to be back for a few hours you can crash on the couch. It's not the most comfortable but-"

"I'm sure it's fine." Russell shrugs and stands from your kitchen table.

You try and fail to ignore how his muscles pull with the movement as he reaches for his shirt and you step forward to help him put it on, knowing that it might hurt with his injury. "Okay." You clear your throat, that has become thick all of a sudden. "And if you're hungry I've got plenty of cupcakes-"

"Please don't call them that. They're an disgrace to the cupcake name."

"Yeah, but the ones in the microwave are actually cupcakes. I had to make a few that were edible." You gesture with your hand and laugh at how quickly Russell goes to get one.

He doesn’t even bother to pull away the wrapping before he takes a bite and he audibly moans. Russell looks at you awestruck. "Holy shit, you made this? Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up." You roll your eyes at him.

"I'm serious, this cupcake is my reason to keep living. Here I thought putting sriracha on French fries was the height of cuisine, but damn."

You could feel yourself blush bright red at his compliment. You weren't used to a man going out of his way to compliment you on something other than how you looked, but everything about Russell Shaw was refreshing and nothing like you expected.

"Thank you." You wait another second, watching him eat more of the cupcake and smash icing and flecks of chocolate over his chin. You laugh at him and hand him a paper towel. "You're worse than my three year old."

"Your three year old is a lucky kid, if she’s got a mom like you to make stuff like this for her."

It's like he wants me to fall in love with him. How can someone look so unbelievably cute and sexy while covered in chocolate cupcake?

Don't answer that.

"Sometimes I think I'm the lucky one. I love my kids-" You say before you can stop yourself. You hesitate afraid that it would send Russell for the hills when you brought up the fact that you loved your children.

"Yeah?" Russell's smile brightens as he wipes his face with the napkin.

"Yeah." You blink mildly shocked. Of all the people in the world to talk about your children with, you never expected someone like Russell Shaw. “I do."

Again he was surprising you, and talking to him was just so refreshing and it made you feel like your head had finally cleared, like your chest was lighter and you could actually talk to someone for real without putting out this together image of yourself you thought you had to when inside you were crumbling from the overbearing expectations of the people around you.

The silence is back, filling the kitchen with a palpable energy that you wonder if Russell can feel, but you shake it off.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you Russell, but I'm sorry that you got shot." You smile.

"I'm not." Russell smiles. "I got to meet you."

"Alright Casanova, I need to go to bed, because my kids will wake me up in about two hours." You frown over at the couch. "There's a pillow and a blanket down the hall in the bathroom closet." You gesture with one hand. "I'll see you in the morning." You repeat because you're not too sure what to say.

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You turn and walk up the stairs to your bedroom, feeling the thin blue robe swishing around your ankles as you do.

And as you fall into your bed all you can think about as you start to drift is the ruggedly handsome man downstairs, with the brilliant green eyes that crinkle with his smile, and the large hands rough from hard work, that seems to be more than what meets the eye.

The alarm clock on your bedside table might as well be employed by the devil for waking you up and the idea of smashing it to bits with the heavy metal table lamp that sits beside it crosses your mind. You weren't sure how many hours you'd gotten in, only that they weren't enough, and you were in desperate need of coffee.

You roll over on your back, looking up at your ceiling as you blink your eyes open, following the familiar sweeps of the paint brush that were left behind.

The memory of the night's events come back in full color and you stiffen remembering exactly why you'd gone to bed so late. Images of last night flash through your mind. Colter dragging a bloodied Russell through your front door, Russell sitting on your kitchen table looking much too attractive covered in blood, him flirting with you with a wide smile that made you feel warm from the inside out…

Oh fuck he's still on my couch. How am I going to explain that to my kids?

You dress in a flash and stumble down the stairs as quickly as you can, tripping and falling into the living room, but when you look you realize that Russell isn't on the couch. The pillow and brightly colored quilted blanket he used are neatly folded on one of the plush cushions, but he's nowhere to be found.

I guess Colter came to get him.

You weren't expecting the wave of disappointment that comes with that realization, but as you turn to go back up the stairs to ready yourself for the day, you hear your daughter’s voice.

"Mommy!" She says. "Look! Rus is making pancakes."

What?

You turn to investigate your spacious kitchen. It was still covered in an alarming amount of cupcakes, but that’s not what’s surprising, what’s surprising is Russell, standing at your crowded stove with a spatula in his hand, sliding a perfectly golden brown pancake around in the bottom of a pan.

You blink your eyes to make sure that you’re not imagining it and make sure that you’re not asleep.

"Hey gorgeous." Russell flashes a wide grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Um-" You glance at where your daughter is sitting with your son, both eating stacks of pancakes at your kitchen table, the same kitchen table that you were fantasizing about Russell and you-

Nope. Not going there.

Honestly, any fantasy you had about him was blown away by the sight of him standing in your kitchen making pancakes for your children. Something so domestically wonderful that turned you on even more than the image of him shirtless sitting on your kitchen table.

This was something even your husband refused to do, cook. Any day that you tried to get him to, he'd said that it was your "job." And here Russell was standing in your kitchen looking even more effortlessly gorgeous cooking for your family without being asked.

"I sleep good. How did you sleep?" You ask taking a hesitant step towards him.

"Good. Better than I have in a bit actually." He turns back to the pan and flicks his wrist, flipping the pancake inside.

Emma claps happily and Luke watches Russell with a look of absolute awe on his face, while you try not to have impure thoughts about Russell in front of your children.

"You didn't have to make breakfast-"

"I did." He plates the pancake and holds it out to you. "I wanted to thank you for patching me up."

"It wasn't a big deal." You shrug, but take the pancake from the plate, rolling it up like a taco before you take a bite.

Russell cocks his head to the side studying you for a moment. "It was to me." His green eyes are just as hypnotic today as they were last night, tracing over your body in a way that makes pins and needles tickle over your skin. "Plus, wanted to make the kids something that wasn't gluten free, nut free, and sugar free. Emma sure can put away some pancakes."

It was odd to see someone so eager to make himself comfortable in your house, especially a man you barely knew and who you owed absolutely nothing to. Not to mention that Russell genuinely seemed happy to be making breakfast for your children as if he belonged there.

It was so different from every other man that you'd ever met, and you wanted to get used to it. You wanted to get used to having a man around again, to having Russell in your home and in your life. You'd never been spontaneous or wanted to jump headfirst without looking at the pros and cons, but watching Russell standing at your stove, with the sunlight coming through the windows behind him and illuminating his broad shoulders and sifting through his dark hair, you saw absolutely no downside.

"Yeah she's always had a good appetite."

"Hope she doesn't lose that. I hate it when women don't eat." Russell shrugs his shoulders and goes back to make a pancake for himself. "Plus Luke needs to bulk up. He said his dad is going to sign him up for baseball."

You stiffen at the mention of your ex, not sure if you should supply the information, or if you should let it slide. Russell's eyes flick down at your left hand for a half-second, so quickly you could have missed it, but you understood what he was doing.

"He's my ex-husband." You murmur low enough so only Russell could hear.

"Good." Russell replies with a knowing smirk. "Means that I don’t have any competition."

You roll your eyes at his reaction and walk over to where your children are eating. Luke is covered in maple syrup as per usual. He had always been a messy eater, but because he insisted on having his hair cropped short, it never seemed to be too much of a problem.

Just as Emma looks like your ex-husband, Lance, Luke looks like you. He has the same eyes and same colored hair, but he'd always been a little short for his age. Lance usually picked at him for that, but you didn't know what Lance was expecting, Luke was six years old, he'd grow!

"Good pancakes?" You ask, trying to wipe at his face with a napkin but he pulls away with an exclaimed "Mom!"

"What? You're covered in syrup." You laugh, raising the napkin again, but Luke dodges your hand.

"Mom!" Luke says again.

"Alright, fine. But go get dressed, your dad will be here to pick you up any minute." You say, urging him with a hand against his shoulder.

Today Lance was taking Luke to school and picking him up after for a baseball game, before staying with him at his apartment. You’d told your Aunt Teddi and your Aunt Velma that you'd help them plant a garden today, and Emma had been looking forward to it as much as you had.

Velma had been talking about it all through last week, and you’d gotten the day off specifically off for it. Emma was also excited about it because Teddi had bought flowers specifically for butterflies and your daughter loved them more than life itself.

You were looking forward to working out in the sun, feeling the healing rays against your skin, listening to the sounds of the world outside your aunts familiar home soothe you, play with the dogs for a little bit, and finally go inside for a few glasses of wine while Velma, Teddi, and you talked about the book of the month. Book club nights were especially special for Emma as well. Velma always poured Emma's apple juice into a plastic pink wine glass that she'd bought for Emma so she could feel included.

This book had been really good and you couldn't wait to share what you'd thought while eating expensive cheese and cupcakes and while the dogs circled below like raptors.

You loved being at their home. It was always such a comfort to be somewhere where you felt that you could be yourself especially after Lance left you. Your mother had died when you were a kid and your dad had never been equipped to handle things like that so your Aunt Teddi had picked up the slack in your early years and now after she'd married Velma, you had another person in your life who supported you and made you feel like you could be yourself. Both of them had been furious when they learned about what Lance had done and sat with you while you cried into a box of tissues.

It had been difficult to talk them both out of killing Lance. Surprising since your Aunt Teddi was usually the voice of reason.

Luke sighs, but listens to you, getting up from the table to make his way upstairs. You can hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway above and into his room.

Despite his reluctance, he was looking forward to today as well. Sometimes you thought that he felt left out when you all went over to your aunts house. You knew that Luke longed for the attention of his father, and something broke inside of you each time your ex-husband made him feel forgotten.

You turn to look at your daughter. "Good pancakes?"

"Yes!"

"Did you tell Russell thank you?"

"Thank you Rus!" She sing-songs with a wide smile, before moving her plastic fork back into the pile enthusiastically.

"You're welcome sweetheart." Russell says from the stove, picking up the pancake in the skillet bare handed before he puts a generous stripe of maple syrup along the inside and rolls it up just like you did. "Do you want another one?" His gaze turns to you, warm and open.

Fuck, why is he so damn attractive?

"No I'm-"

The knock on the front door interupts your answer signifying the arrival of Lance. When he'd moved out of the house you'd changed all the locks and then refused to give him a key. Something that he'd pouted and stomped about worse than your toddler, but you'd held firm. You didn't want him in your house and you definitely didn't want her in your house either.

"Daddy!" Emma squeals and before you can stop her, she leaps from her chair like she'd been shot from a cannon and runs down the front hallway to open the door for your ex.

You sigh out a breath to prepare yourself for what comes next. Talking to Lance was always tense and as much as you tried to be civil, Lance didn't. He didn't pull punches, and often lacked the common decency that everyone else had.

Russell's studying you again, his easy smile slipping into a frown when he notes the change in your attitude.

"Stay here. This shouldn't take long." You force a smile, but it lacks the enthusiasm you’d had whenever you talked to Russell before.

Sometimes just the thought of your ex took the energy out of you, as if you were on a space ship and all the air got sucked out into the cold silent vacuum.

Lance is standing on the front step hugging your daughter with one hand while the other holds his phone behind her head, his gaze intently on the screen while Emma chatters in his ear. He's not paying attention though. He never was and never did.

His black hair is slicked back over his head and cropped shorter than the last time you saw him. Now it barely touches his collar but hangs long over the top of his head. His brown eyes glint an amber in the light of the sun, and he’s wearing a tailored blue suit with a dark patterned tie.

“Hey.” Lance clips to you as he stands, releasing Emma who is still trying to talk to him, but he ignores her.

You grind your teeth together. “Hi.”

He sighs audibly sensing the tension, as if it’s you that’s done something wrong.

“Emma, why don’t you go finish your pancakes?” You smile down at your daughter and pat her on the head. “We’ve got to go soon.”

“Okay! Bye daddy!”

“That’s nice honey.” He says absentmindedly, still typing furiously on his phone, while Emma rushes back down the hallway and into the kitchen, that is hidden from view of the front door.

“You know you could put the phone down for once. The world won’t implode if you wait a few seconds to answer a text.” You say.

“Don’t start.” Lance rolls his eyes.

The BMW idling at the curb catches in the early morning sunlight and you see a flash of red-hair. Crystal is in the passenger seat, her auburn hair piled on top of her head effortlessly, her lips painted a dark colored red, there’s a pair of heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s wearing black dress low cut enough that her ample breasts spill out through the wide V.

She peers at you from where she sits in the car, her phone perched in her lap, and you watch her dark colored lips twitch into a knowing smirk when she catches you looking at her.

Each time you saw her was like taking a punch to the gut. It made you pull your oversized sweater a little tighter over your chest self-consciously.

“I’m not starting anything. I’m just saying that you should pay more attention to-“ You begin, but Lance interrupts.

“I don’t want to do this with you. I have a deposition due today and I have to finish sending this email.” He snaps.

“Fine.” You sigh, trying to remain calm. You hated when he did this, when he made it seem like no one and nothing else was important except his job. “Luke is getting ready. I have to box up these cupcakes for a bake sale at the school. All you have to do is drop them off and tell-“

“Oh sorry babe. Can’t do the thing today.”

You bristled when he called you babe. You weren't his, not after everything the two of you had been through.

“What do you mean you can’t do the ‘thing’ today?” You plant your hands on your hips trying to comprehend what he's saying.

“With the kid. Sorry. Crystal made plans for us at some fancy restaurant or whatever. Supposed to be the best in the city-“

“What?”

“I can’t take the kid today.” He repeats slowly, this time looking up, but he doesn’t bother to apologize, and his gaze barely meets yours before he drops his eyes back to the hand clutched in his perfectly manicured fingers.

“But you promised Luke that you were going to take him to a baseball game today after school. That he was going to get to spend the night with you and-“

“Sorry.” The apology isn’t sincere and you know it, despite Lance’s attempts to drop his smile into a sympathetic frown. It comes across as more condescending.

Crystal honks the horn of the car as if to tell Lance to hurry up, and it takes a very large amount of effort for you not to flip her the bird.

“No. Luke has been looking forward to this all week! Not to mention I had to ask off for today specifically-“

“And I’ll apologize to him too.” Lance goes back to typing something on his phone. “This dinner means a lot to Crystal-“

“I don’t give two shits what means a lot to that red-haired bimbo!” You snap, the rage and frustration building in your chest. “You made a promise to your son to take him to a baseball game and actually spend time with him and that’s exactly what you’re going to do!”

Lance looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing. “You always fucking do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pick a fight.”

“I am not picking a fight Lance. All you’ve done since you’ve shown up here is ignore your daughter and tell me that you’re backing out of the one thing I’ve asked you to do in months!”

“I told you that I have a meeting and a deposition due today! Damn it, what do you want from me? To quit my big job that pays for this house?” He steps forward towering over you. Lance was taller than you, but he had always been lanky and thin, unable to gain too much weight or muscle at a time. “Why do you find the need to make me feel like my life isn’t important?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything about your life! I’m talking about our son’s life-“ You shout incredulous.

“This is exactly why I got out when I did. Because you always try to control every little thing. You’re so damn OCD that if I did one microscopic thing that wasn’t apart of your ‘special plans’ you’d spontaneously combust! You never just shut your big mouth and let me just fucking live my life! You never let me feel like a man! And Crystal understands-“

“Crystal can’t even understand that pickles were once cucumbers! I doubt she can understand whatever warped reality you’re living in Lance.” You spit. “But I’m sorry that me asking you to be a part of our children’s lives is too much for you. That it’s such a chore for you to make them happy.” The frustrated tears had begun to burn against your eyes.

You didn’t know why you expected anything different. Lance had been doing this since your son was born, putting his career above everything else, working late, schmoozing whoever he could, being so damn selfish that he was willing to throw everything the two of you built together for the woman sitting in the car on the curb watching the two of you go at it with a sick satisfaction.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Lance roars and this time he slams his hand against the door frame so roughly that the glass inside shakes and you flinch. “I don’t know why I even try to talk to you. So why don’t you get your big ass up those stairs and-“

“Is there a problem?” Russell’s voice interrupts whatever Lance was going to say, his body sliding into the space behind you so suddenly that you didn’t hear him walk up.

But it felt good for him to be there, to feel the warmth of his body through the air at your back.

He places his hand on the door to open it up a little wider and to seem a bit more intimidating. Russell is easily taller and broader than Lance.

Lance looks up at him confused, puffing out his chest to look more intimidating. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t use that kind of language around the kids-“ Russell says with a tight lipped smile.

“They’re my fucking kids. Don’t tell me how to talk.” Lance’s gaze flicks to you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“I’m Russell.” He replies before you can. “And if you know what’s good for you I’d take a few steps back from her.” Russell’s large hand gently presses against your waist, a comforting weight that you weren’t expecting, but welcome, nonetheless.

It made you feel a little bit bolder.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lance snarls. “Is this your boyfriend? Really? You finally decided to go out with someone and that’s who you pick?”

“Look buddy, if you keep talking to her that way, we’re going to have a problem.” Russell sighs. “And I don’t want to get any blood on your fancy suit.”

“I’m not your buddy. And trust me she’s not worth the fight.” Lance sneers at you, giving you a once over that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Russell’s jaw clenches tight and he takes a step forward, but you hold out your arm to stop him.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was, it’s none of your business who I date!” You snap back.

Lance only shakes his head, ignoring what you’ve said. “I’m serious pal you don’t want to get involved with her. She’s fucking crazy, not to mention nothing special when it comes to se-“

The next words are lost in the sound of Russell’s fist landing against Lance’s face, the sharp crack followed by the inhuman scream of Crystal at the car. Lance stumbles back off the front step clutching a hand to his face while blood streams through his pinched fingers and over his chin.

“I warned you. Now if you keep talking, I'll make your eyes match.” Russell growls, flexing his hand.

I hope he didn’t rip his stitches.

“You son of a bitch.” Lance sputters, his hand still holding his broken nose. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“It’s worth it, if it shuts you up.” He replies unfazed.

Lance’s eyes narrow with hate as he looks at you one more time, before stumbling back to his car where Crystal has begun to wail over the amount of blood coming from his nose. The car squeals down the street and out of sight, leaving Russell and you standing on your front porch. Thankfully Emma was still in the kitchen eating her pancakes and Luke was upstairs, you didn't want either of them to see Russell punch their dad.

But that didn't mean that you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

You groaned when you thought about your son. You didn’t know how on earth you were going to explain to him why his dad wasn’t going to pick him up or take him to the game.

But at the same time there was a sickening amount of pleasure that bubbled beneath the surface at the thought of Russell breaking Lance’s nose.

“Are you okay?” Russell asks turning to look at you. There’s anger still simmering beneath the surface. You’d never seen him angry in all the time he’d stayed with you. All you’d seen was the funny, easy going, guy with the gorgeous smile, but to see him like this and especially to see him angry over what had just happened…

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive.

“Yeah. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize for that asshole. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Russell hesitates. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn, should have knocked a few teeth out too. He’s got to learn how to speak to a lady, especially one as beautiful as you.”

You felt your cheeks flush. You couldn’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful and before you can stop yourself you say:

“I don’t think you’re too bad looking yourself.”

“Oh I know. You couldn’t keep your hands off me last night.” Russell’s grin makes you smile and roll your eyes at him.

Again you’re struck by how charming he is and how kind. He didn’t have to do any of the things he’d done today, but he did anyway. He didn’t have to make breakfast for your children, he didn’t have to step in when your ex-husband got mouthy, and he didn’t have to punch Lance in the face, but Russell had.

He'd done more for you in the past few hours than your husband had done in the six years you'd been married to him.

Behind where Russell's standing, Colter’s truck pulls up to idle on the curb in the same place that the BMW had been sitting moments ago, and you raise a hand in a half-wave to greet him. Colter shoots you a grin and waves back.

“Guess my ride’s here.” Russell says glancing back at his brother over his shoulder before he looks back at you.

“Seems so.” You nod. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check your stitches for you one more time before you go? I mean you probably ripped them when you punched Lance."

“Sounds like you just want to catch another peak of me without my shirt on.” Russell laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and hit him on the arm.

“Ow.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Maybe.” He’s studying you again, the sunlight turning his hair a honeyed brown and his eyes into a sharp jade. The light catches his broad shoulders and traces along his strong jaw that is covered in a healthy amount of stubble that makes him look rugged and more handsome than any man you’d ever met.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “It was nice to meet you Russell. And again, I'm sorry that you got shot."

Russell shrugs. “It was worth it. I got to meet you and I got to punch that asshole in the face so win-win.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“Yes, I did.” Russell’s jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve any of the things he was saying about you or about the kids.”

“True.” You hesitate.

Should I ask him for his number or is that too forward?

“I’ll see you around.” Russell smiles at you one more time before making his way to his brother’s car, just as Emma joins you on the front step.

“Did daddy leave?” She sounds sad.

“Yeah. He did.” You take her small hand in yours.

“But why does Russell have to go too?” She whines.

“Because he’s going home.”

You felt a twinge in your chest watching him get into the car, knowing that you probably would never see him ever again. It made you sad to know that. You'd been interested in him and you thought he was interested in you, but he hadn't asked for your number.

Maybe he's flirty and charming with everyone.

You hide the frown that comes with that thought. Emma waves goodbye with her freehand, and Russell smiles from the passenger seat, waving back at your daughter, before he raises his gaze to yours again and winks.

Or maybe not.

When you go back inside the house, Luke is still upstairs, and instead of going up to tell him about his father, you turn to go back into your kitchen to clean up. As you near the stove, you notice a bright green piece of paper under one of the magnets on your refrigerator, fluttering slightly in the air-conditioning.

You pull it down to look.

In case you want some more pancakes or if you bake any more of those life changing cupcakes. Give me a call. -Russell.

His phone number was written under his name, next to a smiley face that made you laugh aloud to yourself.

Sunday nights were the worst, but not this time.

A/N: Alright, I had so much fun with this one! I just had this urge to write Russell with a reader who had children and a trash man ex because why not? And I know I said it would be a one-shot… but my mind is already thinking of all the possibilities lol. Mostly because we all know I can’t really write just a one-shot 😅😂

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y’all think!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#jensen ackles #russell shaw #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw x you #russell shaw x reader #tracker cbs #tracker #tracker fanfiction #colter shaw #justin hartley #jackles #jensen fucking ackles

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jaeminvore · 1 year ago

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Smoothie promotions so far | 7DREAM

pairing: 7Dream x reader

warning(s): LONG POST. went off the rails and these ended up being a little suggestive than I had originally planned, but nothing was explicitly mentioned (except Jeno's. He literally said 'sex' lmfao and maybe Renjun? He said roleplay 😭), a few kms and die jokes, crack (as usual). As always, something cute and funny and entertaining (hopefully)

note: this came to life from looking at Jeno's selfies and thought he looked real good with the current haircut <3 also, kinda shamelessly plugged myself here oops. Anyways, enjoy!!

a/n: my phone almost overheated making these. If you see any mistakes no u don’t ❤️

taglist: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @sliceofajayke @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna

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antheaholmesblog · 5 months ago

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Aaron in more casual clothes is so HOT!!! The jeans, oh my!!! The jacket that hugs his arms I mean, yeah, it does things to me! He's PERFECTION!

#aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #aaron hotchner x you #cmhotch #criminal minds cbs #aaronhotch #aaron hotchner x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month ago

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In Good Hands

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!Bradford!SWAT!reader (Tim's younger sister)

Summary: Tim finally gets to meet your team during a joint call, and when you're injured, he realizes that he doesn't need to worry about your boyfriend or how he cares for you. Or: When you're injured a call, Street shows you and everyone around how much he cares about you and how well he does it.

Warnings: canon typical danger and violence, depiction of injury and pain (r), flirty!Street (and Aaron Thorsen thinks you're pretty)

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Lying on the cool concrete floor of SWAT HQ, you watch a fan above you turn, tapping your fingers to the rhythmic thwock… thwock of a tennis ball hitting the wall and bouncing back to Street.

“How’s everyone’s family?” Deacon asks, trying to break the silence and bring a sense of normalcy.

No one replies for a moment, and you hear him sigh as leans against the wall.

“My brother is still overbearing and annoying,” you offer.

“Sounds like he’d get along great with my sisters,” Hondo scoffs.

“He doesn’t get along great with anyone,” you counter.

“At least he’s a good cop, so you can understand one another.”

You hum, and your team falls quiet again. Street resumes his seated, solo game of wall ball, and you follow the slow-turning blades of the fan with your eyes as you slide your feet toward your hips, bending your knees up.

“If you think about it,” Street begins.

“We don’t,” Luca interrupts.

“No thinking from you,” Tan adds.

“I was just going to say,” Street defends. “Hicks is acting like a pimp.”

You sit up, shoving your elbows into the floor to look at Street with wide eyes, as your team follows suit. No one actually replies to his claim, but the incredulous looks he receives are enough to make him shrug and switch up the way he throws the tennis ball.

Tan meets your eyes and mouths, “He’s yours,” before you roll your eyes and lie down again. Street isn’t entirely wrong, you realize. Hicks made the decision to take you off active duty and put you on standby for the stations dealing with rioting after a series of convictions were overturned following the indictment of a corrupt judge. He decides when you leave, where you go, and your objectives. Not entirely unlike a pimp, even if he’d make you run laps for saying it.

“Rise and shine!” Hicks calls as he returns from the chief’s office. “Mid-Wilshire called in an assist.”

“Finally,” you grumble as you stand.

“I knew you’d come through, sir,” Street says, pleased when you look away to avoid laughing.

“Okay,” Hicks drawls, shaking his head. “Officers are waiting for your on-scene. I’ll fill you in on your way.”

“Thanks, Commander,” Hondo calls over his shoulder, leading your team toward Black Betty.

Hondo leads you, Street, and Deacon past Black Betty and behind a row of cop cars, where six officers in patrol blues and two detectives take cover.

“I’m Sergeant Harrelson, 20-David SWAT,” he introduces. “What’ve you got?”

“Triple homicide in this residence four days ago,” Detective Lopez replies. “Dispatch alerted patrol of a crowd growing in the front yard, and with all the rioting, they decided to send two units. When they arrived, the suspects grew hostile, forced our people back.”

“Any of your murder suspects up there?” Deacon inquires, glancing through the back window of the shop he’s beside.

“Both of them,” Detective Harper answers. “But they’re surrounded by known felons with automatic rifles and revolvers.”

“You want them subdued?” Hondo clarifies.

“Preferably.”

“We need the house cleared, too,” Sergeant Bradford adds, kneeling with his back against his shop.

You notice all the windows have been broken and raise your brows, silently asking if he’s okay. Tim nods once, and you turn your attention back to Hondo.

“Sergeant Harrelson,” Angela says. “Are you Hondo?”

“I am,” he replies, smiling. “Heard of me?”

“Yeah, former partner of mine knew Buck Spivey.”

Nyla notices your name tag, cocking her head to the side as she inquires, “Any relation to our Bradford?”

“Not that I’m willing to admit,” you joke.

“I stand by what I said when they brought you home,” Tim grumbles. “There was still time to trade you for a brother.”

“You love me.”

“We’re going to move in behind this crowd,” Hondo says. “They might rabbit this way, can you handle one or two who break away?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Nyla answers, lifting the long gun beside her feet.

“Glad you’re on our side,” you muse.

“Be careful,” Tim demands.

You nod, then turn away from him to join the rest of your team and find the perfect route to enter the yard and get everyone in custody. After ensuring you have plenty of zip ties in your pocket, you tap Street’s shoulder to let him know you’re ready. He glances over his shoulder at you before he taps Tan, and you run single-file down the fence line two houses over.

“LAPD!” Hondo announces as your team slips into position. You surround the crowd, and they turn quickly, raising weapons as they move together.

“Put the weapons down!” you command. “Everybody, hands up!”

“Stop moving!” Luca yells, gesturing down with one hand while the other steadies his gun.

“What?” one of the men asks, stepping forward. “I can’t have a party in my own front yard now?”

“Not with weapons, and not after assaulting police officers,” Street answers.

“Cooperate, and you might get to return home sometime soon,” Deacon advises. “The DA remembers you, I’d bet. Don’t make it any harder on yourself.”

The man shakes his head, his tongue against his cheek. You see the moment he decides not to cooperate, but it happens too quickly to alert your team. The crowd breaks, people running in every direction as gunshots sound, the unmistakable hiss of bullets moving in different directions.

Apparently, the spokesperson for the group – and likely one of the murder suspects – Anthony Woodley runs toward you with two men close on his heels. You can’t stop all three of them alone, but if you slow Anthony down, the others might hesitate long enough that you can catch up. Dropping your gun, you use the strap to pull it to your back, then brace yourself to step in front of him. As he nears you, you move into his path and angle yourself to throw your shoulder into his abdomen.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, his foot landing on yours before you both go down. You flip him quickly, using his surprise to get the upper hand. He groans with his face in the grass, and you press your knee against his back as you secure the plastic ties around his wrist. Looking around, you see that your team has most of the people in custody, and the three who made it past you are now facing Nyla Harper, Angela Lopez, and your brother. You don’t pity them at all, and when they raise their hands and kneel on the asphalt, you drop your head and sigh.

After you flip Anthony over and direct him to sit up and cross his ankles, you stand. Immediately, burning pain ignites in your ankle. You hiss, shifting your weight to the other foot as you wait for reinforcements. A prisoner transport van is en route, but you have to make sure everything stays calm and safe until it arrives, and then you have to clear the house. The pain in your ankle will make it difficult. Fortunately, it’s probably just bruising and swelling from the impact of running into Anthony. Or him running into you.

“That wasn’t half bad,” Tim says as he steps into the grass.

“You know it’s not just me you’re insulting, right?” you counter. “My entire team is here.”

Tim glances toward the others, who watch your interaction for a breath before checking on the suspects. The van arrives, and six officers exit patrol cars that park behind it to load everyone and take them to booking.

“If you’ll excuse us, Bradford,” Hondo tells Tim. “We’ve got another adequate job to do.”

“Ooh,” you drawl, pointing at Tim. “You insulted a SWAT sergeant. What will Grey think?”

Tim rolls his eyes, but when you turn toward the house to join your team, he notices you’re favoring one leg. You talk often, despite your insistence that he’s overbearing and annoying, so he’d know if something happened. Unless it just happened, leading you to hide it until you finish your job. That dedication and lack of self-preservation for a purpose skipped a generation, he thinks, but somehow, you both inherited it. He'll lecture you when you come out, if you’re still limping. He returns to his shop, leaning against the hood as Angela and Nyla prepare to leave.

“I knew your sister was a cop, but I didn’t know she was in the best SWAT team in LA,” Lucy muses.

“I didn’t know she looked like that,” Aaron adds.

Tim turns to glare at him, and he immediately rescinds the compliment, but makes sure to note that he wasn't wrong about how attractive you are.

“She is pretty,” Lucy agrees, shrugging. “Have anything else you’re hiding from us?”

“Depends,” Tim murmurs. “Are you hiding an off switch?”

Inside the house, you move with Luca and Tan through bedrooms, bathrooms, a few closets, and the kitchen. Circling back to the living room, you meet Hondo, Street, and Deacon, who confirm that their side of the house was also clear. The floor in the dining area is still stained with blood, and you step forward to look at the bullet hole in the wall, forgetting about your injured ankle. Now that your adrenaline is lowered again, you feel the pain ignite, sending bolts of discomfort up your lower leg. You stop, shifting to your other leg and dropping your hands to your thighs as you breathe deeply. Your boot feels too tight, and you know the swelling is worsening.

“Bradford,” Deacon says. “You okay?”

“I-” You stop yourself, taking another deep breath to stop the tears building in your eyes. It’s an instinctive body response to find another outlet for what you feel, but you bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood rather than cry in front of your team. “I twisted my ankle. I’m fine.”

Street moves to your side, taking his tactical helmet off as he moves. He tosses it to Luca, who catches it wordlessly, watching you with concern in his blue eyes.

Street kneels before you, bringing your hands to his shoulders. You lean heavily against him, sighing in relief that your weight is now his burden.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

Carefully, Street pulls your pants over the top of your boot, frowning when he sees the bruise peeking out from under your shoe and the red mark against your lower shin. Fresh blood beads, and Street’s brows pinch when he realizes that your pants are already wet with blood.

“What did Anthony have on him?” Street inquires, glancing up at you.

“He had a – I don’t even know what they’re called,” Hondo answers. “It looked like the top part of a meat tenderizer. The, you know, pointed mallet.”

Street nods, gently touching your calf. “Yeah, it did some damage,” he mumbles. Looking at you again, he asks, “Do you think it’s broken?”

You shake your head, laying the ball of your foot on the floor.

“Do you need to go to the hospital or can the medics back at HQ look at it?” Hondo asks.

“I’m fine,” you answer.

“You’re bleeding, and I’m pretty sure your boot didn’t look that wide earlier,” Street answers.

You drop your head then, swallowing at the sight of your leg. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine,” you admit. “But the medics can handle it.”

Street keeps your hands on his shoulders as he stands, then loops one arm around your ribs, holding you up against his side. “Could I interest you in a bridal carry?” he questions lowly.

“And hit her foot on the door jamb on the way out?” Tan muses. “Yeah, real romantic, Street.”

“Tan,” Street sighs, smiling. “If you’re jealous, just say that.”

“Easy,” Hondo interrupts, chuckling. “Let’s give Mid-Wilshire our report, and then we’ll head back to base.”

You allow Street to support most of your weight, only setting your toes on the ground before you jump with your uninjured leg. If you’d been alone, you undoubtedly would have let him carry you, but you’re still on the job; a bruised ankle won’t stop you from being ready to stand on your own if the situation calls for it.

“What happened?” Tim demands the moment you step outside.

“Tim, this is my team leader, Hondo,” you introduce.

Tim’s chest rises and falls before he asks, “What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted to meet my team. Now’s your chance.”

“I’m Lucy Chen,” the woman beside him says, waving.

“Aaron Thorsen,” the other officer introduces.

“This is Deacon, Luca, and Tan,” you continue, pointing to your teammates as they offer various greetings. “And this is Street,” you conclude, laying your hand on his chest for a moment longer than is probably professionally appropriate.

Tim’s eyes narrow at Street, who smiles and offers the hand not holding you up. “Nice to finally meet you,” he says.

Tim looks between you, clenches his jaw, and shakes Street’s hand.

“You got lucky,” he tells you.

“By getting a meat tenderizer to the ankle?” you question, incredulous.

Tim glances at your ankle, then shakes his head. “I was going to make you break up with what’s-his-name-"

“Street,” he interrupts.

“But,” Tim continues, “you’re in good hands with him.” Turning to Street, he drops his voice to add, “And she will always be in good hands, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They stare at each other for several breaths, until you interrupt to say, “The house is clear.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hondo tells Tim, Lucy, and Aaron. “But if Streeter hurts her, you’ll have to get in line to deal with him.”

“If you can find the body,” Luca adds.

“I get it!” Street exclaims.

“I’m fine,” you assure Tim. “I’ll call you tonight.”

Tim nods, pats your shoulder, and enters the house. Lucy and Aaron give you their well wishes as they follow him, and you lean against Street when they’re out of earshot.

“Glad to know you all have such faith in me,” he grumbles, slipping his other arm around you.

“That’s my job,” you murmur against his vest. “Can we leave now? There’s an ice pack at HQ with my name on it.”

Street doesn’t ask you this time before he lifts you in his arms and sets you in Black Betty, so you don’t have to try to climb inside. You’re the first two members of your team, and while you’re alone, Street says, “Must be confusing with two Bradfords.”

“Sometimes.”

“Wonder what it’ll be like with two Streets.”

You look over at him quickly, but he has his eyes closed and his head tipped back, a smile on his face as he removes his glove and takes your hand in his good hands.

#jim street x reader #jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street fic #jim street imagine #jim street #swat x reader #swat imagine #swat fic #swat cbs #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#crossover fic

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barnesnatts · 9 months ago

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Sebastian Stan on cbs mornings!

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reidsmuse01 · 5 months ago

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“You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys.”

Pairing: Luca x Fem Reader

Summary: You’re a receptionist/you have a desk job at Swat. You’re in a relationship with Luca that you’ve recently gone public with.

Warnings: mentions of hickeys, references to smut!

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When you took the job as a receptionist in Swat the last thing you expected was to fall for a third generation Swat officer. You and Luca hit it off right away and you became good friends with Luca and the rest of the team.

But what the team didn’t know was that you and Luca had been in a secret relationship for around 6 months. Sneaking around in the locker room, making out in the back of the movie theatre, secret weekends away. At first it was nice to have it a secret, something that was only between you and Luca, however keeping that big a secret from the team proved impossible, especially when Luca and Street moved in together. The inevitable happend and Street walked in on you and Luca making out on the couch at Luca’s house one night with hardly any clothes on. Luca threw himself on top of you to hide your half naked body from Street’ s view, but the big grin that quickly grew on Street’s face meant that you and Luca would have to do some serious ass kissing to get Street to keep your secret.

Eventually you and Luca got sick of keeping the secret and on a team night out both you and Luca got drunk and started making out on the dance floor for everyone to see. When the team saw this they were shocked. They knew Luca had a girl on the down low- they just didn’t expect it to be you. Street then got the satisfaction of explaining about he walked in on you and Luca weeks ago and was happy with himself as he was the first of the team to know about the relationship.

Fast forward to today. You’re standing in Luca’s bathroom getting ready for work and trying to use whatever makeup you have on hand to cover the hickeys on your neck. The deep purple bruises are a reminder of the passionate night you had with Luca and although you thought they were a turn on and liked when Luca marked you as his- you didn’t want to deal with the jokes you’d get at work or the dirty looks from the Commander.

Luca walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and saw what you were doing.

“Um, baby what are you doing?”, Luca questioned.

“What does it look like I’m doing?, I’m trying to cover these bruises for work Mr “I didn’t leave any marks on your neck”, you said with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Luca came behind you wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “Look I was too focused on giving my baby a good time than to be worrying about any of that”, he whispered into your ear as a shiver went up your spine.

“You don’t need to cover up the hickeys”, he said looking at you in the mirror.

“You’re mine and I want the world to know that” he said leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“If anyone slags you off at work, you come tell me and I’ll deal with it ok”, Luca said moving away from you and going to brush his teeth and apply his deodorant and finish getting ready for work.

“Luca I’m not gonna go run to my boyfriend just cause someone makes a joke in work”, you laugh.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself”, you say, wiping the makeup off you neck, realising it didn’t cover anything anyway.

“Oh don’t I know it”, he smirked, smacking your ass and letting out a chuckle as he left the bathroom.

You had texted Chris, your best friend and the reason you got the job in Swat, telling her about the hickey situation. She found it hilarious and when you got to work you had prepared yourself for the jokes. Chris immediately came up to you to inspect your neck when she saw you.

“Damn girl, you weren’t kidding when you said those were DEEP purple”, she laughed.

“Yeah yeah, come on, let it all out, imma hear all the jokes today anyway”, you rolled your eyes.

Luca walked in behind you carrying two coffees. He handed you yours and he saw the smirk evident on Chris’ face.

“What?”, he asked.

“Jeez man, maybe next time have something to eat first and not eat my best friend”, Chris laughed, attracting the attention of the rest of the team.

They all walked over and took it in turns to look at your neck and instead of making jokes at you, they aimed them at Luca, who by now was a deep shade of red.

You were amused by the whole situation and Luca agreed that maybe next time you should wear the makeup to which you whispered “well maybe, you just need to leave them somewhere nobody else can see”, and with that you kissed his lips and made your way to you desk.

Needless to say that is exactly what Luca did the minute he got you home that night. 😜

#luca x reader #dominique luca #dominique luca imagines #swat imagines #swat cbs #lucaxplussizereader #lucaxfem!reader #jim street imagines #victor tan #hondo harrelson #chris alonso #deacon kay #swat x reader #swat fic

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zepskies · 3 months ago

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BREAKING POINT - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: Russell made you a promise, but “getting out” of government contract work is even more difficult than he thought it would be. Is he willing to put the past aside, or is this going to be your breaking point?

AN: Welcome back to the Every Second Counts-verse! After the cliffhanger in Bubbly, I know you guys have been wanting this next part of their story. Get ready for a rocky ride — in two parts! 😅 (Also thank you again for all the birthday wishes. You guys are the best. 🥹💜)

Special thanks to the lovely Michelle - @luci-in-trenchcoats - for giving me tons of Tracker spoilers from the books that helped me shape the idea for BP! Both Michelle and Wayne - @waynes-multiverse have been incredibly encouraging and supportive in this one. 💚

Song Inspo: “Come in From the Night” by Chicago

Posted on Patreon: 3/28/2025

Word Count: 6.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, secrets and lies of omission, hints of Russell’s shady past, 2x02 events, and a twist…

⌖ Series Masterlist

Part 1: One Step Ahead of the Past

You paused in the middle of the grocery store aisle when you heard the thump. Yet another item dropped into the shopping cart.

You turned your head from the display of buy-one-get-one coffee brands and rose a brow at your boyfriend, trying not to smile.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” you said, grabbing the box of Zebra Cakes out of the cart.

“Aw, come on,” Russell implored.

“Babe, Dory and I call these cancer cakes. And you know what, for a guy who somehow keeps in like, Super Soldier-level shape, you’ve got a mega sweet tooth for all things junk,” you teased, and then smiled hard when he snaked an arm around your waist to try and distract you. You knew what he was really aiming for.

“Super soldier, huh?” A smirk curved his lips. “We talkin’ Captain America or Schwarzenegger?”

You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He had you trapped against the handles of the cart. He sneakily clawed a hand for the cartoonish black and white box of treats, but you held it just out of reach.

“If we have these in the house, you know I’m gonna eat them too, and it’s all just going to go straight to my ass, stomach, and thighs,” you quipped.

Russell hummed a kiss into your neck.

“I got no issue with that.” He squeezed your hips. “Just makes you softer to tenderize.”

A hot blush lit up your face, especially when an older lady gave you two some side-eye as she passed by with her cart. You bit your lip to temper your embarrassed smile, but you still reached back to pinch Russell’s side in retaliation. He just laughed and dodged your hand, ultimately wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“It’s true,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Hmph, I’m sure,” you replied in amusement.

Despite your better judgment, you tossed the Zebra Cakes back into the cart and kept it pushing, literally. Russell’s pleased grin had you almost rolling your eyes. Yes, he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

You grabbed a couple packages of Gevalia coffee and continued down the aisle, but you didn’t realize that your shadow had disappeared. Russell caught up to you after a little while, withdrawing a peach cobbler from behind his back. It was from the bakery section. Another goddamn dessert?! And how’d he get over there and back so fast?

“I know I might be pushing my luck, but what about this guy for tonight?” he asked. “At least it’s homemade, right?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, homemade. Right from the factory that delivered it to the grocery store.”

But you sighed and relented on that one too, waving a dismissive hand. Eh, it’s on sale. Pick your battles, I guess.

Russell took that as consent to place the cobbler carefully next to the carrots, broccoli, and asparagus. He was slightly mollified by the bag of potatoes.

“That’s a lot of rabbit food,” he remarked.

“Oh yeah, and it’s gonna go great with the steaks tonight,” you sweetly replied. You knew the only way you were going to get him to eat said broccoli was if he had a slab of meat to go with it. Again, pick your battles. Your man was many things, but health-conscious wasn’t exactly one of them. It surprised you, considering he’d spent most of his life in the military.

“Heeeeell, yeah. With the special sauce, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, with the special sauce,” you smirked.

And no, that wasn’t a euphemism.

Russell smiled, that one that crinkled the crow’s feet around his eyes. His hand fell to a comfortable place on the small of your back as he fell into step with you. It was his habit whenever you two went out together—a familiar hand on your hip, your waist, or brushing your hair back to massage the back of your neck. You liked the contact; the reminder that he was with you, and that he wanted to be.

But his touch fell away after you entered the cereal aisle. You did hear a short buzz, but you didn’t notice until you were almost at the end, halfway through asking if he wanted oatmeal or Fruit Loops. When you realized you were talking to empty air, you looked over your shoulder and saw Russell stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring down at his phone with knitted brows.

His attention was wholly on the screen, where a brief message held more weight than it should.

Are you in?

Russell kept digesting the words.

“Russ?” you called to him, breaking him out of his reverie. “What’re you doing?”

Shit. He typed out a reply, and he sent it before he could think better of it. He pocketed his phone and caught up to you in a few of his long strides, his long hair bouncing along with him. His hand slipped around your waist and found purchase on a belt loop of your jeans.

“So with our soon-to-be three course meal, what’cha thinking on a movie? Wanna watch Terminator again?” he proposed.

You rose a brow at three courses, but you skipped ahead to pushing back on said proposal.

“God, no. We watched all six movies last weekend!”

“Aw, come on, get to the choppah!” Russell invoked his best Arnold impression, prodding at your waist all the while. Never mind that the line was from Predator, not Terminator.

You flinched, and a giggle bubbled up in you on reflex as you swatted at his hand. You pushed the cart onward to the checkout counter.

“All right, just the first one though,” you replied. “Then I want to watch Bridesmaids.”

He playfully groaned. “Gonna make me sit through another chick flick, huh?”

“Oh no. It’s hilarious,” you said with a snicker. “Though maybe it is better if we watch that one after dinner. There’s a scene with food poisoning from some sketchy-ass meat and…yeah. Anyway, you’ll like it, baby. I promise.”

Russell gave you an indulgent smile, but inside, he hid a guilty twinge.

“What was your favorite thing to eat growing up?” you asked.

Russell was helping you unpack the groceries in the kitchen in a familiar routine. He’d been living with you for almost a year now, and still, little questions like this sometimes helped you get a window into the man.

Key word being sometimes, because even now, he considered your question with more uncertainty than it should warrant.

"You mean, uh, on the compound?" he asked.

"Sure." You'd take any brief spotlight into his childhood.

“Uh…kind of hard to answer that one. We mostly ate whatever wild game we could catch,” he admitted. “A lot of rabbit. Which honestly wasn’t my favorite, but I learned to like it.”

He soon abandoned that thought to take out the peach cobbler from a grocery bag with a devilish cackle. You knew by the boyish look on his face that he’d be cutting at least two generous slices out of that one later.

“Maybe that explains why you’re such a foodie,” you wondered aloud. Because your man didn’t just like food. He was borderline obsessed with trying new spots with you, whether it was an upscale restaurant on the bougiest part of downtown, or a sketchy taco truck on the side of the freeway.

“Could be,” he acknowledged with a chuckle.

“What was it like having to hunt for your own food?” you asked. You’d studied history and ancient civilizations for both of your doctoral degrees, let alone your experience as a professor at Wyoming University, but studying hunter-gatherer communities was much different from having to learn how to survive for your next meal.

Russell set down the cobbler on the counter. He took advantage of the task of grabbing the vegetables next, handing them off to you so you could sort them the way you liked in the refrigerator.

“Wasn’t easy,” he said, “My dad was a taskmaster. And that wasn’t just about skinning rabbits and squirrels.”

You grimaced. “Squirrels too?!”

Russell nodded.

“We had these milestones…” he trailed, as the memory reappeared in his mind. “Heh. I remember being woken up and dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. Dad had me scale a cliff in almost pitch blackness. Couldn’t see the ground below me, could barely see a few inches above me. Was the day I turned thirteen years old.”

You paused what you were doing to meet his gaze. Jesus. Happy fucking Birthday, you thought, both in sarcasm and incredulous dismay.

Russell sighed and shook his head. He continued balling up empty grocery bags.

“That. That look right there,” he said, pointing at your face. “That’s why I don’t talk about this shit.”

You quickly recovered yourself and shut the fridge.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” You turned to him and laid a hand on his forearm, sliding down to slip your hand into his. “I’ve given you the deep cuts, right? And my brother has no problem spilling all about my awkward teenage angst, and basically every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done since I was two. But with you, there’s still so much I don’t know, Russ. Not just about how you grew up, but about your life since then.”

Russell brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, but all he could really give you was a quirk of his lips.

“That’s classified,” he said, only somewhat joking.

“Look, I get that. I know there’s a lot you can’t tell me,” you said, “but give me the broad strokes, okay? Besides Doug, who have been the important people in your life? Where were you stationed? How many countries have you seen?”

Russell let out a deep breath. None of your questions had easy answers. He knew he needed to give you something, even if it was just broad strokes. But…he just couldn’t bring himself to look back anymore. There was too much tied to things he couldn’t, shouldn’t tell you. Mostly it was for your own safety, but selfishly, there were also things he didn’t want to let loose. If he did, maybe it would change the way you looked at him with those soft, loving eyes.

“Look, maybe that’s not something we should get into tonight,” he said.

Your expression shifted into disappointment. You seemed to be making that face a lot lately, whenever he told you about another job out of town, whenever he didn't come home when he initially said he would, whenever he closed up on you.

But this time, you closed up on him.

“You know what, it’s been a long day. I think I’m feeling too tired to cook,” you said. You tossed the wad of empty grocery bags under the kitchen sink and passed by him on your way out of the room, and over to the bedroom.

Russell blinked in confusion.

“Well, wait, what’re we gonna eat then?” he called after you.

“I don’t know. Make yourself a sandwich,” you said, just before he heard the door shut.

The loud thud made him sigh through his nose. He surveyed the ingredients you’d intended to cook with strewn across the kitchen counter and rubbed a hand over his bearded face.

“Shoulda saved that conversation for after dinner,” he mused.

You and Russell were still at odds as you got ready for bed that night. After what happened in the kitchen, you cooled off for a bit. You did end up making the steaks and watching Terminator with him, but afterward, you went back to the bedroom to read by yourself, leaving him to watch old reruns of Seinfeld on TBS.

It was never really the same without you and your colorful commentary, or the way you often burrowed into his side and commandeered most of the couch. (He didn’t mind, long as he got to cop a feel every now and then.)

He could read you all too well though. He knew you were still mad at him.

He now eyed you in your silky negligée, which he thought you’d worn to bed on purpose just to torture him a little. It was the pretty purple one with lacy edges. He bought it for you while you two were on vacation in California a few months ago.

Russell’s phone buzzing on his nightstand distracted him. He checked it before you had a chance to see what was on the screen. It was from his handler at Horizon, detailing a string of coordinates for his next gig—plus a ticket for his flight taking off in two days. Russell planned to tell you tomorrow after you cooled off a little more, though he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

He tried slipping into bed behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your bare shoulder. He nosed past the thin strap of your nightgown and inhaled the pretty, floral scent of your soap…which he totally didn’t use himself.

“Nuh-uh,” you warned without even looking at him. It was a firm no on the touching, to which Russell exhaled and leaned back on his pillow, carding a hand through his hair.

“Come on, baby. How long’re you gonna ice me out?”

“Until I actually know the man who’s in bed with me,” you snipped back testily.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Russell said. He drew back in and kissed the side of your head, rubbing a hand down your shoulder. “You already know the important bits.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” you dryly replied. It was a struggle not to give into his touch, but this wasn’t the first time you two had a conversation, verging on argument about these things.

He knew it all too well.

Still, he hesitated. Like what? How I’ve spent a long time doing what I’m told, and not a lot of asking questions. Probably not as much as I should’ve.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen a lot of shit that would blow your hair back. But even though my growing up was…unconventional, to say the least, it’s made me good at what I do. Most importantly though…” He pressed another gentle, lingering kiss into your neck. “This is where I want to be. You’re the one I wanna move forward with.”

He felt you take a long breath. He hoped it meant that you were hearing him, that you were softening.

“How are you going to do that when you’re away on another job?” you asked.

Russell paused.

You moved away from his hold and sat up in bed. He followed suit as he noted the look on your face, tired and upset. His brows furrowed, despite the prickle of guilt bubbling under his skin.

“What’re you talking about?” he said.

“Don’t even try it. I saw the coordinates pop up on your phone just now!” you snapped, and you make a sound of frustration, rubbing your face with both hands. “You promised me, Russell. You promised you’d be done with contract work months ago now. So what is it? Is it that you need more money for your brewery?”

Russell swallowed. The truth was, he’d made the target goal on his business account months ago, but he’d also found one reason or another to accept the last few jobs out of town. There was pressure from Horizon to stay on. They didn’t want to lose a valuable “contractor,” after all. But it was also his own unwillingness to give up the feeling of knowing exactly what he was doing, what he had been trained to do, and secretly, the way his work kept him on the edge.

That flip in the stomach that forced him to make decisions in the breadth of a second?

Well, it was a hard feeling to give up, and an even harder life.

He rubbed a hand over his face with a tired sigh.

“Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he said.

“You know what, I don’t think it is,” you shot back. “I think you’re a lot like Charlie, except this—this kind of work is your fix.”

The accusation stung like a hot iron poker. Russell opened his mouth to sling back a retort, even though he knew your aim was deadly when you wanted it to be.

You just turned away from him and shut off the light.

In the morning, Russell woke to your side of the bed being cold and empty. It made him feel hollow, shitty, after the events of last night reared back up in his mind.

He lied there between the sheets and listened. He could hear your familiar movements in the kitchen. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself out of bed.

After brushing his teeth and raking a hand through his messy bedhead, he cautiously approached the kitchen. Russell lingered in the doorway just outside of view. He found himself watching you putter around in your little nightgown, fuzzy slippers, and frizzy hair. Your fingers got tangled in it while your free hand grabbed the eggs from the fridge, your hip propping the door open.

You’d made a pot of coffee and even set out his mug for him, as was your habit. Your own mug laid half-empty on the counter. His mug was somewhat special, though not just because it currently had a spoon resting inside it, ready for his sugar and cream.

You bought it for him last time you blew half your paycheck at Marshalls; a home goods store he could rarely drag you out of within an hour. That mug featured all the major condiments, including sriracha, which was what made you think of him. It matched the sweatpants you found for him, covered in cartoony fries and burgers.

They might’ve been silly gifts, but he liked that. He liked that you thought of him in the little things that somehow added up into the big things. They reminded him that you’d given him a chance. You’d given him home cooked meals, and let him make you a few too. You’d watched virtually every popular ‘90s movie that had ever been made with him—or at least, every one you thought he’d might like. You had a list of the 2000s to tackle next.

You were an encouraging sounding board for him, whether it was talking about what he’d serve on the menu of his future brewery, brainstorming names, or even looking up what paperwork he would need to get started. You’d also been helping him navigate his relationship with Dory, and your brother Charlie, and even Colter, whenever Russell’s still admittedly distant relationship with his brother came up.

Russell washed your car and took out the trash and washed the dishes whenever you cooked, but standing here right now, it finally clicked just how much you actually did for him. How much you cared, and put your actions behind the caring part. You’d given him a place to come home to after decades in service, and years more on the road.

Hell, you were his home. You and his sister.

But now, he realized why you were so upset. You thought he had one foot off of the firm foundation you were trying to build with him. You thought he wasn’t wanting to fully commit here, to you, and to the things he claimed he wanted. You were struggling to understand him.

So Russell entered the kitchen officially, padding in on sock-covered feet until he could slip his arms around you from behind. You stiffened in his grasp and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Russ,” you warned, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “You were right.”

You paused, allowing the fridge to close. Slowly you turned in his arms. You bit your lower lip and granted him a dubious gaze. Still, he counted it as a win when you tentatively held him back, slipping your hands over his biceps for stability.

“About what?” you rose a brow in challenge.

“I’m gonna start shopping around for real estate here in Laramie, but first, I’m gonna start making moves on the business proposal for the brewery. Would you mind looking it over for me?” he asked.

Your head tilted as you considered what he was saying, as well as what he wasn’t saying.

“But aren’t you…leaving?”

“I’m not taking that job,” Russell said. “I’m calling Horizon today, tell ‘em I’m retiring. For good this time.”

It took a while, but his words seeped into your mind and settled there on the ocean floor. Tears began to sting in your eyes, but you nodded and reached up on your toes for a sweet, lingering kiss. You stroked his cheeks and slipped your fingers through his hair when you hugged him. He held you back just as tightly.

He knew he hadn’t given you everything you asked for, but this felt like a good start.

Russell expected the call at some point, but half an hour was a new record. It was a Saturday, and he made sure you were busy in the laundry room before he took the call in your brother’s old room—AKA: Russell’s office.

Charlie had been out of rehab for a few months now, rooming with Manny, one of his old unit buddies. Your brother agreed to leave the family house to you though, since you’d always been the stable one who could actually take care of the mortgage and the general upkeep of the house. Russell joined Charlie and his friends for beers every so often, either at Charlie’s apartment, or a new bar close to downtown.

They traded stories and friendly fire at one another, Russell from his side of the branch in Special Ops, to Charlie and his friends in the Air Force. Dave and Manny could be especially loud-mouthed when tequila was involved, but Russell welcomed the good-natured ribbing with a few good pot shots of his own (he was still a little proud of “glorified flight attendants”).

Now though, Russell held the phone to his ear and greeted the man on the other line.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Adam intoned. “‘What’s up’ is that you’re leaving us high and dry, Russ. What’s that about?”

“Look, you know this was never a permanent gig for me,” Russell replied, speaking quietly just in case you were close by. “It’s high time I took a break, settled down, you know?”

Adam snorted. “You don’t have a civilian fucking bone in your body, Russell.”

“Well, that’s nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Look, you’re the best man I ever worked with. The best CO I ever had. You pulled my ass outta the fire more times than I’d care to admit,” Adam said, “but you remember that last tour?”

Russell sobered. “You know I do.”

“And you remember what I had to do to get us out of that mess. Out of Nicaragua.”

Not like you’d ever let me forget it, Russell thought. Though it was nothing he didn’t see behind his eyes when he went to sleep.

“But when I got this gig, and they asked me who I’d recruit, you’re the first guy I thought of,” Adam said. “Well, you and Dougie. He fucking quit on me too.”

Russell was happy for Doug. He and his wife just had their first baby a few months ago. One chunky little boy.

“Look,” Russell said. “I’m grateful for…everything, you know that. But this is just something I gotta do. I’ve got other responsibilities now.”

“Yeah. How is your girl, huh? Been wanting to grab a beer with you, maybe get to finally meet her.”

Russell’s lips twitched. He didn’t talk about you as a rule, not to anyone in Horizon. Aside from Doug, Adam was the only one on the payroll who knew Russell’s real name, let alone about you. This was supposed to be a secure line though.

“She’s waiting on me, Adam. Can’t keep doin’ that to her,” Russell replied.

After a while, Adam sighed.

“All right, Russ. I hear ya. I’m fucked, but I hear ya.”

“You’ll be fine,” Russell smirked. “You’ll find someone young and fresh off the meat market.”

Adam scoffed. “Right. These kids. Half of ‘em anxiety ridden pussies or juvie fucking flunkies. Can’t hack even half the shit we went through in basic, let alone eight months in Baghdad.”

That led into familiar territory. Russell shot the shit with his old friend for a few more minutes before he finally let Adam go. The phone hung from Russell’s hand after, and he expelled a sigh. He felt a twinge of regret, like he was letting go of hell of a lot more.

After he left home and enlisted, it didn’t just become his life. It became who he was. Both his body and his mind were shaped by the structure of the chain of command, the mission, the follow-through. Muscle-memory.

Putting that aside had been harder than he imagined. After all, what the hell was he, if not a soldier?

Russell wrestled with that question longer than he cared to admit. It even had him getting up from his desk to consult a glass of bourbon he kept on the bookshelf.

…It’s for the best, he reasoned.

Even now, Russell didn’t get to see his little sister as often as he liked. Their work kept them moving in different directions, her busy teaching schedule not often gelling well with his more unpredictable one. But today, a Tuesday, he was taking her to lunch between classes.

She stopped short in the doorway of her office.

“Oh! Damn, I forgot…”

She meant to invite you too, but when she took her cell phone out to call you and see if you were busy, Russell laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, she already knows I’m here,” he said. “But you and I are long overdue for some brother-sister time.”

Dory hesitated, but at his grin, she smiled back brightly and put her phone away. “Okay, then. Where do you want to go?”

He took her to a nearby café you told him about. It was one you and Dory frequented at least once a week, either for coffee and pastries, or for a nice protein bowl.

“Why is everything a damn bowl nowadays? They’re all just trying to be Chipotle,” Russell groused, but he ate his bowl of wild rice, steak, and arugula salad with just as much gusto as a carton of Chinese fried rice. He polished it off with a beer and tried to stifle his belch.

Dory rose a brow, but after a beat, she couldn’t hold in a laugh.

“Well, doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” she remarked. Her amusement slid into a teasing smirk. “Matter of fact, looks like you've been eating well since you started shacking up with my best friend.”

Russell grinned around the lip of his beer. "What're you tryin' to say, D? You fat-shaming me right now?"

"Aw, I wouldn't go that far," she laughed. "You just look like you're settling in to this civillian thing."

Russell smirked. He couldn't argue with her. According to you, he was in super soldier shape. Still, he knew you were being a little too generous. He had softened around the pouch a little since he’d stopped moving around from motel to motel, no time to get comfortable, as he was now. His hard work was also looking different these days—sitting at his desk or on the couch with his laptop. He wasn't a complete sloth though; he still worked out on the regular.

“Gotta admit, she keeps me well-fed,” he said. Though there was no mistaking the glint in his eye, or the waggling of his brows. Dory snorted and shook her head.

“Please, I don’t wanna hear about any of that. It’s bad enough I had to endure the beginning stages when you two couldn’t be in a room together without eye-fucking each other. Or sneaking off into a public restroom at our work Christmas party—to actually fuck each other.”

Russell spluttered a laugh into his beer, making a slosh of amber liquid run down his shirt. Dory smirked and handed him an extra napkin. He coughed and blotted out most of the stain himself, but gave her an accusatory look through his amusement.

“You guys seem to be doing well though,” Dory said, her eyes softening along with her smile. “She told me that you finally quit Horizon.”

He rose a brow and set down the empty beer. “Finally?”

“Well, sorry, but she’s not the only one who worries about you, you know?” Dory grabbed her brother’s hand. “It’s been good to have you around this past year, getting to know you again. It feels like having a bit of home back.”

Russell smiled ruefully, squeezing her hand.

“Thought you didn’t like to think about all that.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she admitted. Her head tilted in thought. “I remember, you used to sing to me whenever I couldn’t fall asleep.”

His mouth twitched, his eyes softening.

“Couldn’t blame you. That place made some weird-ass sounds at night,” he replied, though he sighed deeply through his nose. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Russ,” Dory reminded him.

He held her gaze for as long as he could stand. Eventually, he lowered his eyes. He released her hand and went back to polishing off the flourless chocolate cake she’d ordered for dessert.

“That night…you really recognized the man Dad was talking to?” Dory asked after a while.

Russell was a little surprised she was bringing that up, but he nodded slowly.

“I did, but hell. That was twenty years ago.”

She bit her lip. “I still can’t believe Colter thought you…”

“That’s in the past too,” Russell said, his tone even more dismissive.

Hmm. Protesting a little too much, Dory thought.

“Did you ever tell her?” she asked.

They both knew who she meant. You.

“She knows the main bits, but you’re asking if I told her how our brother thought I killed Dad?” Russell scoffed. “No. Didn’t think that little footnote would go over well.”

Dory stared back at him with concern in her blue eyes. She didn’t like keeping things from you, even if it wasn’t her secret to tell. Unfortunately, her family had a lot of secrets.

“It’s not worth getting into, D,” Russell said. “That, or any of it…though I don’t know. I don’t think Colter’s ready to let it go. He believes me now, but he wants to know who got to Dad, and why. He’s tenacious, I’ll give him that.”

Unlike Colter, it seemed, Russell had an image of his father that had lasted in his mind. It wasn’t a good one.

Paranoid son of a bitch.

Russell couldn’t really blame Colter though. He was young when they were taken to the compound. He probably didn’t remember his friends, the house, the way they lived before.

Russell had been ten years old. He remembered being on the baseball team doing well as a pitcher, and having to lie to his coach and quit the team. Russell remembered saying goodbye to his best friend, Randy, who he never saw again. Russell remembered having to lock up his tears and help his mom take care of his younger siblings, and make sure they were settling into a musty old cabin in the middle of the woods.

“I’ve tried looking into it before,” he admitted.

Dory’s brows raised. “When?”

He waved a dismissive hand. “A long time ago, when I had government access to some things. Got a whole lot of nadda.”

“No good is going to come of it, and I told Colter the same thing,” Dory said, shaking her head. “Whatever happened, it’s better if we all just move on.”

She continued eating. After a beat of hesitation, Russell followed suit.

A couple of weeks later, Russell felt like he’d made good progress. He narrowed down his search to three different spots in downtown that were up for leasing, though one of them was a bit too close to Howley’s for your comfort, which meant he really had two options. Both were walkable, but one had more parking availability, while the other was a better price for the amount of interior square footage. It was a lot to consider.

You’d given him the number of a good commercial realtor you knew, thanks to your boss, Dr. Goldstein. Looked like that stuffed suit was good for something, other than piling his work onto your plate so he could get his monthly back wax.

You were still at work on a Thursday when Russell’s phone rang. He quirked a brow at the caller ID, but a grin tugged at his lips when he answered.

“Well hey there, Ms. Greene.”

“Russell, where are you right now?”

“Chillin’ at home. Working through some stuff on my new business venture. Though if the next question’s ‘What am I wearing,’ I gotta remind you that I’m happily off the market,” he teased.

“And thank God for that,” Reenie dryly remarked. “Listen, I need your help. Actually, I think Colter needs you.”

He detected the urgency in her voice now, and he sobered.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I need you to find him. He’s been missing for over 24 hours.”

“Looks like I’m gonna be a little late for dinner,” Russell told you over the phone. "Uh, okay, maybe a lot late."

“What? It’s kind of hard to hear you. Do you have the top down on the Chevelle?”

“She’s a Chevelle Malibu, baby. Well, technically, Malibu for short—”

“Russell, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Reenie called, and it looks like Colter might be in a hard spot. I just need to go help him out,” he replied. Really, he was fighting his worry as he pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas. The sleek Chevy flew down the highway at a speed that would make you hit his arm, if you were here.

“Why does it sound like you’re giving me the kitty gloves version?” you asked him in suspicion.

Russell smiled ruefully. This was why he loved you—for your mind.

“Again, nothing to worry about. I’ll be home by the morning…probably.”

He heard your heavy sigh.

“Okay, Russ. Just be careful, please.”

“Hey, you know me. I’m always careful.”

“Right,” you snorted.

The curve of his lips kicked up into a grin. “I gotta let you go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, okay…I love you.”

His face softened a fraction. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

You hung up with your boyfriend and slipped your phone back in your purse. An undercurrent of worry churned in your stomach. You knew Russell was downplaying whatever was really going on. Reenie wouldn’t call him for help unless Colter was really in trouble, or else why wouldn’t she call the police?

That rewardist work that Colter did, it had led him into some shady shit, according to Dory, like insidious cults, serial killers, and corrupt politicians. She talked to Colter now more than she used to, but even then, she knew he wasn’t giving her the whole story about most of his adventures.

Must be a Shaw family trait, you thought sourly.

With Dory on your mind, you decided to call her up and make tonight a girls’ night. You hung out at her apartment after work, splitting a bottle of wine and several orders of Mexican takeout while watching reruns of New Girl.

“Where do you think they are right now?” Dory asked, for a moment sobering from laughing at Jess’s antics.

You had your glass of wine poised to your lips in thought. “I don’t know, but I do know Russ wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I think Colter’s in trouble.”

Dory worried her lip. It clearly didn’t sit well with her that both of her brothers were MIA right now. You tried calling Russell earlier for a check-in, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Colter’s number didn’t even ring. It was just a dial tone, with a disembodied voice saying this number has been disconnected.

But there was nothing you two could do. Reenie had advised you to sit tight and wait for one of them to check in.

“You know, I may not understand them sometimes, but it makes sense to me why they are the way they are,” she said. “They had it worse than me growing up, either because I was the youngest or because I was the only girl.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where she was going with this.

“I remember, Dad used to make them sleep outside sometimes. Somewhere in the middle of the damn woods, without supplies, without food,” Dory said. She actually began to tear up, her blue eyes turning pale and glassy. “I heard him and my mom arguing about it once. Finally he agreed to go out there and watch out for them—from a distance though, so they wouldn’t know he was there.”

You stared back at her in dismay. That hurt your heart so fucking deep. No wonder Russ didn’t want to open up about this shit. How can I blame him? How can a father…

You shook your head, resting a hand on her arm.

“But why? Why did your dad do all this? Russell said he was paranoid, but…what was he running from?” you asked.

“We don’t know,” Dory admitted. After a moment, she looked over at you and held your gaze. “All that we did know, was that his death wasn’t an accident.”

That revelation shocked you. Your mouth parted, though no words escaped.

Dory set down her wine and got up from the couch. Then, with a certain decision weighing in her eyes, she went over to her room.

“D?” you questioned. “You’re just gonna drop a fucking bomb like that on me and walk away?!”

Not getting an answer, you rose to follow her, where you watched in bewilderment as she dug into the recesses of her closet until she found a plain white shoebox. It was just some old cardboard, frayed at the corners, but Dory hesitated to even open it.

“What are you doing? What is that?” you asked.

“A few years back, a family friend gave this to me. Apparently it has some of my dad’s old stuff,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to go digging through it because I wanted to leave the past behind me. I think it’s been easier for me to say that, but not so easy for Colter and Russell.”

After a beat of hesitation, she handed the box over to you.

“Would you give this to Russell when he gets back?” she asked. “He can do whatever he wants with it. Look inside, try to piece together what happened, or just burn it all. Either way, I’m done. As far as I’m concerned, my dad wasn’t really my dad after he took us to live in that place. And my mom…” She laughed humorlessly. “She was no saint either. She went along with everything my father did.”

You took the box from her with some concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t even like having it here. It’s just a…bad reminder.”

You rubbed a hand over her arm in comfort. "You guys never went to the police?"

Dory shook her head. "Mom didn't trust anyone, least of all the police. She probably thought it was safer for us."

"God, I'm sorry," you said. After a beat, you set down the box and pulled Dory into a hug. She rested her chin on your shoulder and squeezed her eyes tight for a second.

"It's okay," she said. "...It's in the past."

Sure, you thought. But there were some scars that didn't fade, no matter how much you ignored them, banaged them, or tried to soothe them.

You took the box and left her apartment shortly after. She offered to let you stay the night so you wouldn’t be alone, but you declined. Russell installed a state-of-the-art security system in your house, making it feel like the safest place in the world to you. That was where you’d be able to sleep tonight, even with this mysterious old shoebox.

The drive back was devoid of traffic this late at night, but after what happened with Eddie Mendez last year, you always felt uneasy driving alone at night. A good part of you was also still trying to digest all of this.

On one hand, you could understand Colter and Russell wanting to know what happened to their father. If Ashton was murdered, the reason could explain everything they went through growing up.

With all of these thoughts rattling through your mind, you couldn’t even be completely relieved when you pulled into the driveway of your home. You walked into the house quickly, shut the door, and input the code to lock everything behind you.

Holding your purse on one shoulder and the box under your other arm, your first instinct was to find a good hiding place for it. You began to wonder if you should’ve accepted it from Dory at all. If her father’s death was no accident, then what was he killed for?

But…Dory had this thing in her closet for all this time without incident. Surely there was nothing diabolical about it. Ashton Shaw had been a professor too, right? It probably just held some keepsakes, a few old essays, some paperclips and 20-year-old dust bunnies…

You found a place in the house that a burglar would be unlikely to look for something valuable (again, really, what kind of burglar would want to steal a shoebox of old junk?), and you took a deep, calming breath in the middle of your living room.

You still hadn’t been able to get in touch with Russell. All your texts had been going unanswered. You grabbed your phone and began to find Reenie in your contacts, but you paused. You were reminded of something you forgot to do when you walked in the door.

Along with the coded door lock, there was an app on your phone where you could monitor the cameras strategically placed outside the house. However, when you checked the app, you realized that the camera feed said Unavailable. For every single camera.

Your brows furrowed. That’s weird…

Seconds later, the first bullet broke through your impact windows.

AN: 🫣 Oh sorry, did I not mention there was a cliffhanger? You can rant and scream in the comments, it's totally fine. 😂

As you can see, we're in the middle of 2x02, with my own twist on some things around it. Plus some material from the books making it into this part - and more heavily implied in the next part - coming next Sunday!

Next Time:

While the phone rang, tucked between your shoulder and your ear, you were forced to set down the gun. With trembling hands, you quietly rifled through your medicine cabinet for gauze or an ace bandage. Fuck, yes! Okay. This could work. You found the big square bandages that stick on. Russell bought them the last time he came home with a couple of nasty abrasions from a job.

Still, the phone rang.

Come on, come on, come oooon!

“Hello?” The lawyer’s voice was smooth and retaining a note of exasperation.

“Reenie! Where’s Russell?” you whisper-hissed.

“I have him right here. What’s wrong?” she asked. Immediately, her tone shifted to concern. You’d never met Reenie in person, but you knew she worked with Colter and, according to Russell, was damn good at what she did.

You didn’t give a shit about any of that right now.

“Put him on the phone, please!”

In a few seconds of shuffling, you finally, finally heard his voice.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

A breath of relief escaped you in a rush.

“Russell,” you sobbed.

⌖ Keep Reading: PART 2

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megalony · 9 months ago

Text

Dating My Daughter

Here is a new Dominic Luca request for Swat, I'm sorry this took me so long and I'm trying to work on more Swat ideas at the moment.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Swat Masterlist

Summary: No one at Swat knows that Luca is dating the Commander's daughter. That is, until she turns up to base and suddenly collapses.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A smile worked its way onto Luca's face when he started to wake up, but he kept his eyes shut, wanting to bask in the moment a little longer. He could practically feel the morning sun beating down against his eyelids as it broke through the thin curtains.

His arm lifted a little so he could drag his rough, worn fingertips up and down the back of (Y/n)'s shoulder. His touch light enough to feel like feathers tickling across her skin.

He felt (Y/n)'s lips press into his chest, silently letting him know that she was awake too. It felt strange to wake up before his alarm and without being rudely awoken by an alert from Swat asking the team to come in early. It was rare these days to get a full nights sleep and have a lay in like this.

His left arm felt heavy when he tried to move it and slump his arm over his eyes, further blocking out the light in an attempt to stay relaxed in bed for a little while longer.

But his lips curved into a grin and a flutter of adrenaline sparked through his stomach and livened him up when he felt (Y/n) move.

Wet, hollow kisses pressed up his sternum in a slow trail that had him holding back shivers and doing his best to stay motionless. The feeling of (Y/n)'s lips pressing to his neck made him take in a deep breath but when she grazed her teeth along his skin, his lips curved higher and his hand curled around her shoulder, giving a tight squeeze.

"Morning."

"Morning," Luca slid his arm from covering his eyes so it was slumped behind his head on the pillow. Allowing him to open his eyes, adjust to the light and stare down at the girl laid on top of him.

(Y/n) had her chest pressing against his side and both arms were now folded neatly over Luca's chest with her chin perched on her arms so she could stare up at him with that sweet smile that could get away with murder in Luca's eyes.

Her eyes danced around the room for a moment before settling back on Luca. They didn't always stay at his place, it was usually (Y/n)'s apartment they frequented because Street was staying with Luca. And when no one on the team knew that Luca was dating the Commander's daughter, it was easier to stay at (Y/n)'s place. She didn't have a roommate or a member of the team hanging around to see them.

She moved her arms a little so she could tilt her chin down and attach her lips to Luca's chest, trying not to grin against him when she felt his hand tighten on her shoulder.

Her eyes shot up to look at him and a gasp burst past her lips when his arm slid down from her shoulder to bind tightly around her waist. His palm pressed flat on her lower back and he pushed up so he could flip them over. He rolled her onto her back, muffling her quiet laugh as he moved to hover between her thighs. Luca's hands planted down on the pillow either side of her head, caging her in beneath him while his teeth flashed in a cheesy grin verging on a smirk.

She brought her hands up to cup his face, smoothing her thumbs down over the creases beneath his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

His hands shifted to hold her sides when he balanced his weight between his knees and his arms that pinned down into the mattress to stop his weight from crushing (Y/n) beneath him. He tilted his head to the left, kissing her cheek first before he made a slow descent down her neck.

His fingers scrunched up in her shirt, about to try his luck with taking it off until he looked down.

"Isn't that mine?" He muttered with a sideways grin. He recognised that pale grey shirt and the fact that he could scrunch it up in one fist and the shirt still looked two sizes two big on his girlfriend gave away the fact it wasn't hers.

He looked back up and the grin she flashed him made his heart jump, especially when her smile was obscured by her teeth puncturing into her lower lip.

"Maybe."

While he took a moment to admire the view in front of him, (Y/n) took her chance to scrape her nails agonisingly slow over his skin, starting from his abdomen and she worked her way up until her hands were curved around his neck. Her fingers tickled the small hairs at the back of his neck and she sat up to meet him in the middle, moulding her chest against his before she pulled his lips down to hers.

(Y/n) could feel the fever behind his kiss and the way his fingertips dug bruisingly into her hips when she pushed her chest up against him just to irritate him and goad him further.

Her lips curved into a smile against his kiss and when she pulled back, (Y/n) sucked Luca's lower lip between her teeth and gave a small tug until she could feel the growl deep within his chest, rumbling through into her own.

"Baby," Luca's groan was deep and the word was a warning. He didn't have a lot of time before he was going to have to get ready for Swat, and she was teasing.

Her fingertips slid away from the back of his neck so she could drape her arms around his neck and tickle her fingers across his shoulders instead. Her plump lips left Luca's and moved towards his jaw and when she could feel his lips forming into a grin, she started to kiss down his neck.

He could feel her teeth grazing against the junction between his neck and shoulder, about to bite down and leave a mark. With a deep breath, Luca pushed forward causing (Y/n) to fall back into the pillows with him on top of her. And the shock did the trick in preventing her from leaving a dark bruise on his skin.

"Don't be marking me up, Street's already been begging to meet my girl and your dad will kill me if Street lets slip."

Luca had done a good job at deflecting any of the team's questions so far when they asked who he was so happy to be texting or where he was heading off to after work. And Street knew he had a girlfriend, it wasn't hard to figure out when Luca spent half his time somewhere else and came back with bright smiles and smelling of perfume.

The first person who had to be told was (Y/n)'s dad, the person they had been trying to hide their relationship from in the first place.

In the beginning it was easier not to tell anyone. (Y/n) knew her dad would interrogate Luca and give him warnings if he knew, therefore none of the team could know in case they told Hicks. But the longer they stayed together, the less willing they were to tell Hicks in case he took the news badly. He didn't want anyone at Swat looking at his daughter, let alone trying to date her.

"Hmm, okay." She murmured softly before snagging his lips in another kiss which stole all of his senses.

Luca let himself lean against her a bit more, but he tried to keep some of his weight pushed back on his legs and his elbows so he didn't crush (Y/n) beneath him. But he could still feel every crevace of her moulded up against him.

And as always, he leaned slightly to the left so he wouldn't touch the small oval plaster patch on the right side of her abdomen.

Her Dexcom.

A small sensor just beneath the skin that took continuous readings of (Y/n)'s glucose levels so she didn't have to prick her finger and check her levels through her blood anymore. Being diabetic had a lot of ups and downs, but her Dexcom was a lot easier than finger pricks for blood readings every day.

It didn't hurt but Luca never wanted to lean too close or press on it just in case he did one day hurt her or damage it.

He was a big guy, it wouldn't take much for Luca to crush (Y/n) beneath his body weight and he would hate to lean on her Dexcom and move it by accident. It had sensors beneath the skin, Luca could only imagine moving that without proper care or attention would cause (Y/n) some pain and grief.

Wet, panting kisses were peppered along her neck and down the middle of her throat so every time she gasped or swallowed, Luca could feel each movement. He let go of her hips and moved his fingertips across her sides and over the dips and curves of her body, trying to wind her up because he knew how ticklish she could be.

He paused his administrations when one of their phones on the bedside table pinged.

"Damn." Luca leaned down and buried his face in the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, feeling her shudder against him when he sank his teeth down into the soft flesh and tugged.

He felt (Y/n) hiss into his hair when his teeth released from her neck and it made him grin. His thumb traced across her jaw and he pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before he reached across and grabbed his phone. His eyes squinted at the brightness and he flicked through the notifications before he realised it hadn't been his phone that had gone off.

Switching out for (Y/n)'s phone, he looked at the newest notification before setting her phone back down again. His left hand stayed on her hip, his thumb tracing over her hipbone while his right hand rummaged around in his top drawer for something.

Once his fingers found the bag of sweets tucked beneath loose change and multiple chargers, Luca tossed them down on the pillow next to (Y/n).

He relished the way (Y/n)'s eyes widened and followed his movements to see what he had gotten from the drawer.

"Your sugar's dropping. Eat a few of those, babe." With a lasting kiss to her lips, Luca grinned against her mouth and gave her a squeeze before he slowly shifted to kneel between her thighs. He sank back on his heels and stretched his arms above his head while (Y/n) popped two jelly babies into her mouth.

Her Dexcom was connected to her phone, it sent alerts and notifications to tell her if her levels were okay, too low or too high. It gave recommendations on what was the best things to eat or drink and suggested eating dinner or getting a snack. It was great because (Y/n) didn't always know her levels were dropping until she started to feel the effects. The app let her know with some advanced warning.

It was also good for letting her know during the night. Sometimes (Y/n) didn't always wake up if she was having a hypo during the night. But with the notifications, it woke her and with Luca being a light sleeper, if he heard the notification he would wake up and help.

They had been together for long enough now that Luca had a stash of sweets in his car, glucose sachets in his backpack he took around with him. And he had put some in his bedside drawer on the off chance they stayed here rather than at (Y/n)'s place. Jelly babies happened to be his weakness and he knew they were good to boost (Y/n)'s levels if she ever needed them.

"Are these a midnight snack?" There was a little bit of hope in (Y/n)'s voice. Hope that these weren't just in Luca's drawer because he could get peckish during the night, but because he wanted them here in case she stayed over.

The soft look that flooded his eyes made (Y/n)'s stomach flip as she reached into the packet for another sweet.

Her eyes followed Luca as he dropped his arms from stretching above his head and cupped her chin so he could lean forward and kiss the powdered sugar from her lips.

"Street's been staying out recently, and I knew if you stayed the night, we might need some sugar close at hand."

"You planned ahead." (Y/n) wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, but the tenderness in her voice pulled at Luca's heartstrings and had his smile broadening. He kissed her again, softer this time and nudged his nose against hers.

"I wanted to be prepared, there's a pack in the car too."

At the risk of sounding corny, (Y/n) mumbled a quiet but loving "You're sweet," as her hands moved to cup his face, bringing him in for a lasting kiss before he climbed off the bed. He needed to get ready for work.

Luca pulled a shirt over his head and turned to look back at (Y/n) when he heard her moving to get up off the bed. The smile on his face began to fade when he watched (Y/n) wobble on unsteady feet, and when her eyes started to roll, Luca pushed forward.

He looped his arms around her waist, letting her slump forward into his chest just as her knees began to cave.

"Wow, hey you okay?" He pecked her temple and moved one hand to tilt her head back so she was looking up at him. His eyes narrowed, watching the way her eyes took a few seconds to come back into focus and her hands felt like they were shaking when she reached out for his arms.

She managed a small smile and nodded her head when the dizziness began to fade and the spots in front of her eyes faded back to full vision again.

"I'm good, j-just the sugar, probably."

Luca hummed in that quiet way that told her he wasn't inclined to believe her, but he wouldn't press the matter. He turned her and helped her sit back down on the side of the bed as his eyes looked her up and down just to reassure himself that she was alright.

Her levels had dipped, she probably just needed to wait for them to even back out again.

***

A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips when she walked past the gym and clocked her eyes onto a familiar set of blond hair spiked up at the front. She could feel her visitor's badge tapping away on the waistband of her jeans and she began to tap her finger against the badge, stopping it from making such a noise.

Her eyes stayed focused on Luca who was staring down at the tablet in his hands, clearly going through some notes or files for a new case.

It took a few seconds for him to finally lift his eyes and look ahead of him. He knew this place like the back of his hand, he was used to roaming around without needing to look where he was going.

When he lifted his eyes, they seemed to light up the moment they latched onto (Y/n). He scoured around the gym, making sure no one was nearby as he and (Y/n) went to cross paths. He was aiming for the computer room, although Luca wasn't sure where (Y/n) was going or why she was here.

When they came close, Luca moved the tablet into his right hand so he could reach his other hand out. He wormed his arm in front of (Y/n) and gave her hip a tight squeeze as they passed, and he took the opportunity to press a kiss to her temple since no one was around.

He didn't like having to let go of her, but they couldn't afford for anyone to see their interaction and catch onto what was happening between them.

(Y/n) smiled to herself and tilted her head down when Luca passed her. She kept her pace and aimed for the stairs at the back of the base. She was here to see her dad, they were heading out for lunch together.

Shifting her hand up, (Y/n) rubbed at her temple to try and rid herself of the headache beginning to form behind her eyes. She hadn't felt amazing since her low sugar level this morning, but her levels had evened out since then.

Her head was pounding and she wasn't sure if she was going to have much of an apetite once she and her dad went out, but (Y/n) knew she would have to eat something. Skipping meals wasn't an option for her, it screwed with her diabetes. Regular meals, controlled carbohydrates and sugar intake all helped to keep her stable.

She continued to rub at her temple but a gasp tumbled past her lips and she came to an abrupt stop when she turned towards the stairs and almost barelled into someone.

"(Y/n), hey. What're you doing here?"

A forced smile wormed onto her lips and she looped her arms around Deacon, pulling him in for a hug. It had been a while since she had seen almost anyone from Swat, excluding Luca of course. She always managed to have some banter with Deacon and have a good joke around.

"Meeting dad, for lunch. How are you?" It took a moment to get the words out properly and in the correct order, and she was sure Deacon sensed that she wasn't feeling her best right now.

Her nose crinkled when she felt her blood pulsing through her head like a boombox and she could of groaned when she felt how warm it was in here. She felt like she was burning up, God they had the heating on a lot round here.

"I'm good, we miss you round here, you know." He patted his hand on (Y/n)'s arm, but his smile started to fade.

Deacon moved his hands to his hips and tilted his head to one side when (Y/n) leaned back into the wall just beside the stairs. She didn't look too good. (Y/n) ran her hand around the back of her neck while she pressed her lips together. Her mouth felt dry. How long had it been since she'd had a drink? Was that why she had a headache, because she needed a drink?

"I- I uh, I need to find dad." She did her best to smile, but she knew it didn't fool him.

Her hand trailed along the wall as she turned towards the stairs and tried to get herself to move. Whatever Deacon said went in one ear and out the other as (Y/n) forced her numb legs to lift and move up the stairs. But three steps up had her feeling like someone had pressed a pause button on her.

"Oh, God." Deacon surged forward and reached out for (Y/n) when her body landed on the stairs with a thud that echoed in his ears and made him cringe.

His hands grasped her waist and he carefully reeled her up off the stairs, taking a few steps back to ease her down to the floor. He couldn't have her laid passed out on the stairs like that, she could hurt herself.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), are you with me?"

His hands moved to lay her on her back as he crouched down beside her and gently cupped her neck. He tilted her head to the side and felt her pulse whilst also making sure she was still breathing properly.

"Deak?"

Deacon tilted ihs head back at the sound of Hondo's voice, seeing the Sargent stood at the top of the stairs. "Go get Hicks."

"Deak, hey Deak what happened?"

Panic struck a chord in Luca's chest and sent twinges rolling throughout his nervous system like he was about to have a heart attack. He dumped the tablet down on the bench at his side before he jogged over towards the stairs. What was he doing? Why was (Y/n) passed out on the floor?

"This is (Y/n), Hick's daughter. She didn't look too good and she passed out, Hondo's gone to get him."

Luca resisted the urge to say he knew who she was. Of course he knew, he'd been seeing her for the last few months, but none of the team needed to know that yet. He crouched down beside (Y/n), watching intently as Deacon tried to lift her eyelid and see if she was conscious, but her eyes had rolled tot he back of her head.

Before he could think better of it, he moved round for the bag that had slid off (Y/n)'s arm in the struggle. He unzipped her bag and fumbled around until he found her phone. He had to know if her levels had dropped and if this was anything to do with her diabetes or not.

"Uh, Luca, what are you doing?" Deacon kept his hands on (Y/n)'s neck, still trying to rouse her. But he rose a brow when he watched his friend find (Y/n)'s phone. Deacon doubted calling anyone or checking her phone was going to make much of a difference right now.

"Checking her sugar levels… Dexcom?"

When Deacon just gave him an uncertain look, Luca reached down for (Y/n)'s shirt and pulled it up to expose her abdomen. He pointed to the square Dexcom stuck to the left side of her abdomen which caused Deacon to raise a brow. He didn't know (Y/n) was diabetic, but then again, it wasn't something she would broadcast to everyone at Swat.

Which begged the question, how did Luca know about it?

"She's a diabetic, and her levels are really low." Luca opened the app and set the phone down near (Y/n)'s shoulder so Deacon could see just how low her glucose levels had dropped to.

"Alright, what happened?" Hicks voice boomed through the air and his boots clammered against the stairs as he rushed down to the commotion.

He nodded when Deacon pushed up and stepped back so that Hicks could take his place beside (Y/n). He brushed his thumb across the side of her jaw and tried to bring her back around but it was clear she wasn't about to wake up anytime soon.

"(Y/n), honey can you hear me?" He clicked his tongue when he didn't gain a response, but when he realised (Y/n)'s Dexcom app was open on her phone, his eyes snapped over to Luca. "How'd you know about that?"

"I saw the Dexcom last time she was here, figured she had to have the app too."

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back on his heels while he started to run his hands up and down his thighs. He didn't like this. (Y/n) hadn't been feeling great this morning and now she had passed out, and Luca knew it wasn't because she had skipped a meal because he saw her have breakfast. The jelly babies this morning should have boosted her levels and eating should have kept them up to a normal state.

And he really didn't like the fact that this happened here, at work, where Luca couldn't try and hold her or move her or bring her round himself. He couldn't do anything without seeming inappropriate or letting slip how much she meant to him.

When his hands continued to glide up and down his trousers, a sudden thought hit him and he looked down.

Glucose powder sachets. Luca had them in the car and in his backpack, and these were an old pair of trousers. He slid his hand into his pocket, feeling his heart go haywire with five extra beats when he felt the familiar silver foil packet between his fingers. He had a sachet on him. That would help to boost her system.

He slowly reached out for her bag and set it on his lap, pretending to rummage through and slid the sachet between his fingers.

"Will this help?" He sheepishly handed the sachet over to Hicks who had a visible wave of relief wash over him.

"Yeah, give it here. Someone call an ambulance, I want her taken to hospital with levels this low. Here we go, sweetheart."

Hicks ripped the sachet and carefully pulled (Y/n)'s jaw down so he could rub the powder on the inside of her cheek. It was a quick way to get glucose into her system by adding powder onto her cheeks so her saliva would break it down. They had to get her levels to rise quickly and it had been a long time since Hicks had needed to help (Y/n) through a hypo like this.

He wanted her to get checked out by a doctor, it wasn't normal for (Y/n) to go into hypos and he had to know if there was a reason for this. And if she didn't pick up soon, she would need to be hospitalised to get her levels back up to where they should be.

***

"Dad, I'm fine-"

"You are not fine now sit back down." The stern tone in her dad's voice made (Y/n) bow her head and although she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, she gave in.

She sat back down on the bed and when her dad pointed at her legs and clicked his fingers, she grumbled but swung them back onto the bed. She crossed her legs beneath her and moved her hands to fiddle with the few rings on her fingers, twisting them round out of nervous habit.

Her eyes glanced up at her dad, watching the way he began to roll his cuffs up towards his elbows before his hands clamped down on his hips. He wasn't about to let (Y/n) try and discharge herself. They were waiting for the doctor and they weren't leaving until (Y/n) had been checked out and cleared.

"Do you know how long its been since I had to administer glucose to you, since I had to call an ambulance for you?" His tone softened a little with each word, but Hicks still didn't sound his usual self. His voice was gruff and his expression was dark.

He'd had enough scares in the past with (Y/n)'s health, and after losing her mother, Hicks couldn't bear the thought of anything else happening to anyone in his family. He wanted confirmation that she was alright or they weren't going anywhere.

"I'm sorry." Reaching out, (Y/n) took one of his hands in hers and gave a little shake to try and make him smile.

"I don't want you to be sorry, you haven't done anything wrong, I just- I just want to know that you're okay."

(Y/n) smiled and squeezed his hand before a knock at the door broke them out of their little moment together. She could feel a wave of relief washing over her when the nurse came in. They had been waiting for discharge papers.

She had come around in the ambulance on the way here and she'd had bloods taken, an IV on and insulin on tap when she needed it. She felt better and her levels had risen back to normal and were being monitored. (Y/n) didn't want to waste anymore of anyone's time, she just wanted to go back home. She felt much better even though she did feel horrid about the fact that Hondo's team were all in the waiting room to make sure she was okay.

They had better, more important things to do than hang around here after the small scare (Y/n) had given them.

"Can I go now?" (Y/n) winced and looked down when her dad squeezed her hand and gave her a certain look.

"Is she okay?"

The smile on the nurse's face was comforting and she began tapping her fingers against the papers in her hand which (Y/n) prayed were discharge papers. She shouldn't have been admitted in the first place, she should have stayed in the emergency room and then gone home once her levels evened out.

"We did a few tests when you arrived, and the results have come back… am I okay to tell you, or would you prefer to talk in private?"

A frown pulled on (Y/n)'s face and she suddenly found herself gripping her dad's hand tighter. Was that a bad thing? Was she about to be given bad news that she might want to hear alone? What kind of tests had they done that would give strange results like this?

"I'm her dad, you can talk in front of me, right?" Hicks looked from the nurse back to (Y/n) who quickly nodded. If this was bad news then she didn't want to hear it alone.

"Okay, well you had some blood screened when you came in, and after looking at the hormone levels we did a few more tests. You're pregnant, congratulations."

(Y/n) felt her stomach twisting itself into knots and she shivered when her dad tightened his hand around hers until she could barely feel her fingers anymore.

That was technically good news, that wasn't anything bad or horrible or life-threatening. (Y/n) wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but she thought it would be something bad with the way the nurse spoke at first. That was good news. She was going to have a baby. Hicks was going to be a grandad. (Y/n) and Luca were about to have a baby together.

Oh.

Now she was going to have to tell her dad about her and Luca. Her dad had found out about the baby before Luca, that wasn't exactly the right way to go about things.

"I'll let you have a moment for it to sink in, then we can get you discharged and signed on for antenatal appointments."

The amount of information, thoughts and panicked reasonings running through (Y/n)'s mind made her dizzy. And when the nurse left the room, (Y/n) finally let go of her dad's hand so she could look up at him and gage his expression. He looked gaunt and pale and in shock.

He clamped one hand down on his hip while his other hand rubbed at the back of his neck and loosened his collar that now felt like it was constricting his breathing. His daughter was going to have a baby. She was clearly seeing someone or knew someone and he didn't have any idea.

"I didn't know you were getting serious with anyone." His voice was quiet and the way he rose a brow was like he was asking (Y/n) to tell him this was a misunderstanding.

He thought things would go differently. He thought (Y/n) would find someone, introduce them and they would all get along and do things as a family before she settled down. He thought he would walk her down the aisle before he saw her start a family of his own, but then again, Hicks knew he was traditional. She didn't have to get married, but he would of liked some warning first before this kind of news.

"Do I know him?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and bit down on her lower lip. She tried to look up at her dad but the panic was written across her face and it made him take a sharp breath when he looked down at her.

"Oh… oh, sweetheart, please don't tell me it's someone on my team?" The gritty tone to his voice made (Y/n) shake and she nodded her head.

She cringed when her dad sighed and tipped his head back. His hands moved to smother his face and he groaned, muttering something incoherent into his palms. Someone under his command had gotten with his daughter and got her pregnant. He didn't want (Y/n) involved with anyone in Swat.

She had enough trouble worrying about him and the work he did without having to worry about another loved one getting hurt on the job. Hicks loved the job, but he had seen how it worried his own wife a lot of the time.

"It's Luca." (Y/n) swung her legs round to get up but she saw the fire burning in her dad's eyes when he listened to her.

"Luca?!"

Out of all the people on his team, Hicks wouldn't have pegged Luca as the kind to do something like this. Luca was devoted to the job and he had a lot of respect. He thought Luca would have been someone who would have come outright to him and explained that he was seeing his daughter, rather than going behind Hicks's back like this.

He thought Luca might have had some decency to stay away from (Y/n). Hicks told everyone not to even look at his daughter, let alone think about dating her.

"I was gonna tell you, I swear…"

(Y/n) cringed and turned to try and fiddle with the IV line strapped to her left hand when her dad silently walked out of the room. She knew the team were waiting outside. She knew they were still here and she didn't want her dad to argue with Luca or start a fight.

A rather dirty look crossed Hicks's face and he swiped his hand along his chin and the back of his neck as he locked his sights on Luca. He made a beeline for the younger man who was sat forward in his chair, hands clasped between his thighs and both feet tapping madly against the floor.

"A word?"

A shiver tore down Luca's spine but he nodded all the same. He pushed up to his feet, running his hands up and down his thighs as he followed the commander away from the rest of the team who were looking at him with confusion and unease lighting up their eyes.

He knew. Luca could feel it. His stomach was tingling with adrenaline and he just instinctively knew that the game was up. Hicks knew he had been seeing his daughter. (Y/n) must have said something and Luca couldn't blame her, but this wasn't how either of them wanted him to find out.

He began pulling his sleeves down and fiddled with them, hooking the sleeves over his hands in an anxious habit. But he held his shoulders straight and stood tall to try and keep himself professional and respectful.

"I would of thought a third generation would of had the decency to tell me he's dating my daughter. Especially when I thought I'd made it clear I didn't want anyone involved with her."

That stung. Luca visibly winced and coiled his arms towards his chest. He was third generation and he was extremely proud of that, but he couldn't help who he fell in love with. All he could help was how Hicks had found out and how they should have told him sooner.

"I'm sorry for not telling you, I really am, we didn't want to cause problems. But I'm not sorry for being with (Y/n)… sir, I really love your daughter."

Luca couldn't help but steal a glance behind him.

He found Street grinning because now he finally knew who his friend had been seeing behind closed doors, and he also knew that this was a big mess up. Street would no longer be the one who people could pick on or make fun of for what he did because Luca would be scrutinised- all in joking manner- for this one.

And he could see Deacon and Chris rolling their lips together, trying their best not to smile or laugh. But the way their heads were inclined together said it all; they were already gossiping about this.

"Hm, you do?" Hicks placed his hands on his hips and bent one knee forward and for a moment, he looked like he was thawing out a little. "Well that's good to hear, Luca. Because not only have I just found out you're dating my daughter, but now you've got her pregnant, too."

A grin formed on Luca's lips which parted, clearly about to laugh until he realised his commander wasn't smiling.

This wasn't a joke.

Hicks wasn't messing with him or trying to wind him up or get a reaction out of him as payback for not telling him sooner. This was real.

Luca couldn't control the smile breaking out on his face again, he tried to pinch himself and bind his arms around his chest, but it did nothing to hide his growing pleasure. He couldn't help but smile because this is what he'd always wanted. Luca loved (Y/n), he loved every bone in her body and he'd always wanted a family of his own and kids someday. Now he was going to have a baby, with (Y/n).

"She- really- oh my God."

"Yeah, really-" Hicks shook his head with a sigh when Luca was already rushing past him and making a beeline for (Y/n)'s room. If that didn't prove to him that Luca loved her, he didn't know what would.

(Y/n) reached her hands out for the bed, about to sit back down quickly until she realised it wasn't her dad coming back into the room. She let her shoulders drop and let go of the IV line she had taken out the back of her hand.

Her eyes followed Luca as he shut the door behind him and hurried over to her. His hands were messing with his sleeves and batting about at his sides and he had his usual black baseball cap sat backwards on his head.

But it was the smile toying about on his lips which made (Y/n)'s stomach ignite with adrenaline and made her breaths catch in her throat.

"Is it true? He's not trying to mess with me or something?"

(Y/n) took a step closer to him as she nodded, unable to look anywhere but at the radiant grin on his face. "I'm pregnant."

She loved the way he practically threw his arms up in the air and jumped on the spot like a child who'd just opened the best Christmas present. Before (Y/n) could say another word, Luca's arms were bound around her waist and he lifted her off her feet.

She gasped, looping her arms around the back of his neck, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck as she giggled against his skin. She could feel his hands squeezing her sides, trying not to hurt her but he couldn't stop the excitement that was radiating through him.

"Oh, this is great, babe." His lips pressed to her cheek and when (Y/n) leaned back, he stole a searing kiss from her lips before he gently set her back down to her feet. Their temples pressed together and (Y/n) ran her hand up and down the back of Luca's neck, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

"We're having a baby."

#imagine #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat #swat luca imagine #swat luca #dominique luca imagine #dominique luca #luca x reader #dominic luca #luca imagine #hondo harrelson #david deacon kay

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months ago

Text

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary: When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar.

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same.

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over.

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din.

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch.

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement.

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her.

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it.

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot.

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay.

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called.

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed.

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide.

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about.

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were.

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight.

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger.

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar.

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown.

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver.

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile.

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her.

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious.

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing.

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam.

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand.

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth.

You try not to be jealous.

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago.

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot.

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm.

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table.

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in.

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.”

Smooth real smooth.

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now.

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again.

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier.

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze.

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard.

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him.

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are.

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing.

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire.

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off.

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces.

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit.

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did.

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say.

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown.

“Me too.” You sigh.

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?”

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it.

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-”

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat.

I am so out of practice.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat.

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.”

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours.

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.”

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life.

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?”

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight?

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave.

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test.

Worst seduction technique ever.

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.”

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past.

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him.

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes.

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.”

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door.

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell.

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation.

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.”

“Aww babe.” Liza says.

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.”

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind.

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him.

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.”

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him.

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong.

You didn’t think that you would need it.

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.”

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did.

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door.

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.”

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song.

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove.

Why didn’t I ask him for his name?

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.”

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class.

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester.

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class.

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend.

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her.

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen.

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship.

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer.

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter.

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car.

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon.

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy.

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible.

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate.

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement.

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground.

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird.

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward.

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back.

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar.

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting.

The image comes into focus.

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder.

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag.

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him.

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!”

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!”

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA.

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die.

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing.

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people?

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that?

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing.

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you.

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little.

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke.

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley.

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him.

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you.

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with.

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates.

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings.

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun.

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it?

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight.

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding.

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once.

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream.

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage.

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men.

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and-

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other.

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible.

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise.

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!”

“I’m not a murderer.”

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack.

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.”

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours.

That’s obviously a fake name.

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print.

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration.

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one.

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together.

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!”

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy.

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing.

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him.

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him.

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices.

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him.

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you.

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him.

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong.

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

#jensen ackles #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader #russell shaw x you #russell shaw x female reader #russell shaw fanfiction #tracker #tracker fic #tracker cbs #tracker fanfiction #meet cute #jensen ackles characters #jackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles russell shaw

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neeksparksg · 4 months ago

Text

Ghosts Cbs Headcanons

Sam feels bad for you because you died so young. You think it’s annoying whenever Sam tries to baby you since you were “practically an adult” by your standards. Isaac points out that 14 was not adulthood, even back then.

Sassappis is your favorite ghost to sit with when you're tired of everyone else's drama. You’ll plop next to him and just sit in silence, occasionally making snarky comments about the others with him.

Thor has decided you’re an honorary warrior, dubbing you “Tiny Shield Maiden.” You once pretended to fall just to see if he’d catch you—and he did, dramatically yelling, “THOR SAVE YOU!” while everyone else rolled their eyes.

Alberta has taught you all her jazz songs. You sing them as loudly and out of tune as possible.

You constantly make fun of Nigel’s formal way of speaking. You mimic his British accent to annoy him and get giggles out of the other ghosts. Isaac thinks it’s hilarious but pretends to scold you for “mocking an ally.”

Alberta taught you to snap your fingers dramatically when making a point, and now you do it constantly.

You were angry with Isaac and refused to talk to him for two years. After the first month, you forgot why you were angry, but since he didn’t apologize, you kept giving him the silent treatment.

Flower insists on telling you stories about her wild days in the '60s, and you listen intently, even if you don’t understand half of what she’s saying. “What’s a commune?” you once asked, and she just replied, “Freedom, kid. Freedom.”

Trevor tried to teach you slang from the early 2000s. “No one says that anymore,” Sam tells him, but he insists on teching it to you anyways. He regretted it as soon as you said, “Totally tubular, Trev.”

Isaac talks to you about his achievements, but you purposely get the details wrong to annoy him. “Wasn’t that Hamilton’s idea?” you ask innocently. “It was NOT,” Isaac sputters, indignant every time.

Whenever Jay practices cooking, you like to guess what he’s making based on the smells, although your guesses are often way off. “Cactus stew?” you once asked when he was making pesto.

You still use old Wild West slang, which confuses most of the other ghosts. You’ll say things like,“Faster than a jackrabbit on a hot griddle,” or "Acknowledge the Corn" leaving everyone (especially Isaac and Hetty) scratching their heads. Flower, however, thinks it’s deep, and Sassappis always nods in approval, as if he fully understands. (He does not.) it does not help that you use it wrong on porpouse to mess with them

#x reader #ghosts #ghosts cbs #trevor lefkowitz #alberta haynes #hetty woodstone #ghosts hetty #sassapis #ghosts sam #sam arondekar #ghosts x reader #thorfinn #isaac higgintoot #ghosts jay #ghosts flower #headcanon #headcannons

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erenjaegerwifee · 10 months ago

Text

Your Excuse To See Me

Request by: @twilightlover2007

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Deacon's case takes him to your bookshop.

Warnings: none, fluff,

Word Count: 2.4k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable please do not interact with my account or any of my notes.

Main M.List | Deacon M.List

“Hey deac” Luca spoke up as Deacon entered the locker rooms. “Morning guys” he replied greeting the rest of the team. “Tan was just telling us about how Bonnie is jealous” Chris spoke up while they all got ready for their shift. “Bonnie is not jealous; I’m telling you guys she isn’t like that” Tan tries to defend. “What happened that everyone things she jealous?” Deacon asked.

“Last night we went on a date and when we were walking to our apartment in the hallway this girl was getting harassed by this idiot and I helped her out. After he left, she told us she just moved in and it happen to come up she also spoke Cantonese. I happen to mention it was so rare to find another person who speaks it by coincidence and after that Bonnie’s mood has been off. She won’t talk, she’s basically doing everything she can to avoid making eye contact with me.”

Deacon hisses feigning pain when he hears the story, “hate to break it to you man but that’s jealousy. I can’t believe you can’t wrap your head around this, she is jealous because that woman who speaks your language probably shares your religion and values growing up in a Chinese American home is now living next door to you. She feels less than now that she has someone to compare herself to.”

Tan took a second to process his words before he finally understands how it all went wrong, he never even thought Bonnie would think like that. “How are you still single? You should have girls falling at your feet” Tan jokes.

“Jokes on you bro, he does” Street says making everyone laugh as they walk out of the locker room to meet Hondo. Before much words can be exchanged, Hicks walks in with a case assigned to the team. “20-David, we’ve been handed over a case, apparently the financial crimes and the narcotics division can’t solve it and they want us to wrap up this up. Also, we have intel the man doing the money laundering are armed and dangerous.”

Hicks goes on to explain the details of the case to the team, saying a man who supposedly goes by the name Authur Lopez has been moving money around through other people’s business. He also may be using them as a stash house. The problem is no one can seem to figure out which business he is using to clean his money. “They know he’s dealing but they can’t prove it, we need to find the proof to bring this guy in”

“We may have a lead though, detective Chase that was previous the lead on this case said he found Auther has an old high school girlfriend who recently moved to town, we aren’t sure if they have had any contact but it’s worth checking out, she might know somewhere he might hide” Hicks finishes up letting the team take the case. Street and Tan both start researching your home and workplace addresses and they found something.

“She owned a bookshop, just opened a couple months ago, around the same time we caught wind of Authur and around the time she moved into town, her business could be the one she’s using, she sells books, it can be a good cover if her business gets traffic, and judging by the location I think she’d be doing well.” Street says as he pulls up the location of your shop on the screen for the team to see.

“I found her home address, it’s an apartment complex about 3 blocked from the shop.” Chris says and pulls the location for them to see. “Okay Street, Tan with me we’ll check out her apartment. Luca, Chris and Deacon you can check out her shop she might be there, she what she knows if she’s willing to talk.” Honda hands out their assignments and everyone jumps in a car their destination.

When Deacon, Chris and Luca arrive at the bookshop they walk in and don’t immediately see anyone around. They walk a little deeper into the shop and you step out from one of the isles the shop isn’t so big that someone can hide, unless they are in the back room. “Hi there, is there something I can help you with?” you say in a sweet voice.

At the sound of your voice Deacon whips his head, he stutters a bit when he sees you for the first time. Your hair fell curly down your back, you wore jeans that fit your hips but flared down over your ankles with cute brown sandals, you wore a gorgeous floral top that complimented your skin tone so perfectly. “Hi, Ms. Y/n? I’m Sergeant Kay, this is officers Alonso and Luca, we are here to ask you a few questions.”

You look up at the handsome sergeant standing in front of you and your brain almost lags. “Sure, happy to help” you smile at him clasping your hands together. You gesture to the chairs and small sofas scattered around the room for them to sit and you do the same. “Ms. Y/n, we believe a man you know has been involved in some illegal activity and we wanted to know if you had any information you could share” the girl who’s name you learned was Chris spoke up.

“Who?’ you asked her, “The name Auther Lopez ring a bell?” Luca asked you. Authur Lopez, you were never able to look at men the same after him, he was your high school sweetheart. You were going to marry him. That was until you found out he was dealing in high school and left him. “A couple months ago he found my shop, said he was keeping tabs on me and asked if I would consider giving him a job. Auther and I dated in high school, I broke up with him when I found out he was dealing, not only that but he was on them. I’m not sure what I never asked. When I hired him, he promised he was clean and so I agreed. Actually, his shift is meant to start in about 10 minutes, he has to come here.”

“What is he involved in?” You asked them directly your question to no one in particular. “We believe he dealing again, or maybe he never stopped who knows. We need to bring him in a find the location of his stash house before he can distribute his product.” Luca spoke to you.

“You’re welcome to wait here until he shows then, I had no idea he was still dealing” Luca made a call to someone while Chris asked to look around the shop and you agreed. Deacon didn’t move though, he sat right there in front of you the whole time. “Are you back together?” his voice was quite as he spoke but you heard him, “No, I’m not interested in starting things back up with him, he has done nothing but disappoint me, I only gave him the job because he said he needed it and he was getting clean.” you matched him tone while you looked at him.

He was so pretty you could barely take your eyes off him, if you weren’t looking at his chest printing out in the tight SWAT t-shirt you were looking at his chocolate brown eyes, if not that, the you have never seen a man look so good with a beard and that usually wasn’t something you’d go for, the hints of grey just did something to your brain.

Deacon wasn’t any different, he was too busy staring at you to realize you were staring back, he admired the way your curls look so full but not frizzy at the same time, the way he so easily got lost in your beautiful eyes, and let’s not talk about your figure, he has never seen anyone look so beautiful before.

“So, Sergeant Kay-”

“Deacon, call me Deacon”

“Deacon, you’re a SWAT sergeant what is that like?” you smile when you ask him. He was confused for a quick second how did you know he was in SWAT? Until he remembered he was working, he was dressed in uniform. “It’s good, I like it, it’s dangerous and it’s a lot of work but it pays off in the end. So, books?” he returned the question.

“Yea, I've always been a reader” you giggle as you continue, “It’s very calming to read, takes my mind off things when I’m stressed, a way to pretend you’re someone else.”

“How could you want to be someone else?” his tone was breathy, it had a hint of a chuckle in it, it made you blush. It was so easy to get caught up in him you forgot all about what he was here for. Luca walked back into the shop; the noise of the chimes pulled you back to reality. He was met with the sight of you and deacon staring at each other with flirtatious smiles and cleared his throat to get your attention.

“The others arrested Authur on his way here, they have him in custody. Hondo said meet back at HQ” Chris moves out with Luca and Deacon was about to follow them, “Wait!” you stopped him resting you hand on his arm to stop him from walking. You ran into one of the isles and grabbed a book off the shelf, “Here, an excuse for you to come back that isn’t work related. Now you can go” you smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled at your sweet gesture. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Deacon walked out the bookshop with a wide grin in his face and he sees Chris and Luca waiting for him with matching grins, seems Luca had filled Chris in and they both clocked the book he didn’t walk in there with. “Ouu someone’s got a crush” Chris said in a sing song tone.

A few days later the case was wrapped up and Deacon was sitting on a comfortable chair in the SWAT main room with his legs propped up as he read the book you gave him. He isn’t you paid attention to the book you handed in when you grabbed it but it was an interesting book.

He has been teased non-stop by the team since they all heard about what happened, no one can see him sitting with that book in his hand without saying something about you. They even went as far as to make a bookmark with your face on it and stick it in his book so every time he opened it, he would see you. It was entertaining the say the least but now that the book was in his hand and finished, he felt nervous to see you again, this time he had no motive to hide behind other than he just wanted to see your pretty face again.

“Hey Deac, we’re gonna hit up Luca’s food truck, do you wanna come with?” Chris asked Deacon as she packed up her things at the end of the shift. “I’d love to but, I have to swing by the bookshop and return this book y/n gave me” He waited patiently for the teasing and right on cue, “You going ask her out?” Chris was grinning like a school girl.

“I want to, I will, I’m gonna...maybe”

“Sergeant Kay is nervous? There is a first for everything. But seriously all jokes aside, I saw the way you looked at each other. She will say yes, no need to doubt yourself” Chris smiled at him and punched his shoulder as they walk out of the locker room.

Deacon rushed to his car saying a quick goodbye to the team and driving to the bookshop before you closed. He opened the door and say you writing something sitting on a high chair behind the desk. “Hey” he said with a small smile.

You look up from your book and smiled when you saw him, “You came back” you said matching his smile as it grew larger, “I guess my excuse to come see you worked, great book by the way, never thought I’d be into enemies to lovers but apparently I am” he chuckled and put the book down on the desk.

“I’m glad you liked it; I wasn’t sure you were the type” you giggled. There was a moment of silence between you. A moment where you just stared at each other, admiring. “I have to close up the shop now, it was really nice of you to come back Deacon, it was nice to see you” Deacon smiled at your words knowing exactly how you feel.

“It was nice to see you too.... hey do you want to join me for some dinner? I know a great food truck not far from here, we could swing by and get something” you wanted to burst with happiness, you didn’t think he had it in him to ask you out but he did.

“Of course I’ll go with you, let me just grab my purse and lock up” you smiled you sweet smile at him and you giddily ran to the back room to get your stuff, hearing him laugh at your antics.

When he opened the car door for you at the food truck you smiled and took a big inhale. He watched you fall in love with the smell of the food and you walked right up to the menu, “I don’t know what to get” you said to him, “Order for me”

Deacon was about to speak when he heard his name being called out, his team was still here. He turned his head in sync with yours and watched a bunch of people walk up to you both. You instinctively stepped closer to Deacon but you quickly recognized Chris and Luca from earlier in the week.

“I see you asked her out” Chris said.

“I can’t believe it took him so long” another boy said who introduced himself as Jim Street

“Oh, give him a break, it’s been a week” their team leader spoke up, Hondo. Their comments made you blush and you hid your face with your hands giggling. Deacon put his arm around your shoulder to shield you from the teasing while they laughed at the situation wholeheartedly. You're so happy Sergeant Kay came to your bookshop.

🔹I hope you all enjoyed reading! I’d love for anyone to Reblog my work, Like and Comment so it can be shared! I’ve been wanting to write for Deacon for a while and I’m finally starting!

🔹On another note. Deacon is hot as fuck. And I want to write him in a nsfw kind of way. Eventually not atm I’d like some feedback on how you would feel after reading my work.

Taglist:

@twilightlover2007 @fluentmoviequoter @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @spnshortcake

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