#mike duarte

[bullet-prooflove]

Law & Order Franchise Masterlist

Law & Order - Masterlist

Law & Order: Criminal Intent Masterlist

Law & Order Criminal Intent: Toronto Masterlist

Law & Order: Organised Crime Masterlist

Law & Order SVU Masterlist

[adarafaelbarba]

stealing shirts with these two babies

"Is that my shirt, cariño?" Joe asked, a smirk on his face as he came over to you.

You'd been rushing to get out of the apartment that morning, your boyfriends having kept you up all night. So while getting dressed in the dark, to let Mike sleep in, you'd grabbed the first shirt you spotted on the floor, hoping you'd put it on the right way so you looked somewhat put together and professional.

It hadn't occurred to you until Joe asked, that it might in-fact be his shirt. "I think--" you started, looking down at the shirt in question, "This is Mike's green henley, it is very similar to yours though, I'll give you that, babe."

He chuckled softly, looking around before leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "Looks good on you though, I'm sure he'll agree when he sees you."

Your cheeks heated up from how intently Joe looked at you, and you dipped your head. "I won't keep you any longer though, Captain Benson is expecting you, is she not, counselor?" He asked, and you nodded, blushing still.

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. I'll see you at lunch." He stole one last kiss before letting you go to Liv's office.

~~~

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @thatesqcrush @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @misscharlielulu @xoxabs88xox @muchadoaboutcj @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @thats-jaywalking @cursedashes @mysoulisasunflower @crazy4chickennuggets @imaginelover88 @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @guitita @ladylionstar @achataa @nessamc @peauxheaux @silversprings-mp3 @polkadotpenguin16 @pepperbstark @im-a-slut-for-this-man2 @chickensarentcheap @irishavengersassemble

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

[drabbles-mc]

On the Ledge

Mike Duarte x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smoking, light angst

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: scrosciare- the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: i've been rewatching SVU from the beginning and i know that Duarte doesn't come around till way way later in the seasons but it still got me thinking about him and here we are!!

It was a particularly loud clap of thunder that pulled Mike from his sleep. He came-to, eyelids heavy in contrast to the sharp breath he pulled in. Through closed lids he could still catch the flash of lightning through the bedroom window—neither of you closed the blinds anymore since you were both up before the sun anyway.

He reached for you, expecting his hand to find you in the twisted mess of sheets you always seemed to tangle yourself up in. It was only when his hand fell to a flat, empty mattress that he forced himself to open his eyes. His eyes were only open halfway despite his best efforts. The room was dark, the storm outside muting the haze that the streetlamps usually provided. Still, he was able to see that you weren’t on the bed, weren’t in the room.

Taking a deep breath, he sat upright, the sheet falling so that the fabric pooled in his lap. Bringing his hands to his face, he wiped at the sleep that was gathered at the corners of his eyes. He blinked a few times, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. He gave himself another moment to adjust to being awake, and then he peeled the sheet away, swinging his legs so that they were dangling over the edge of the bed.

His bare feet landed silently on the throw rug next to the bed. His footfalls were quiet as he made his way through the apartment, but even if they hadn’t been, the sound of the rain battering the roof and the metal fire escapes outside would’ve drowned it out anyway.

It wasn’t often that Mike found himself waking up to an empty bed, especially not when the two of you were staying at your place. Since that was the case, he had a feeling he knew where you’d gone, and it wasn’t very far. He slowly and carefully made his way through your living room, over to the large window that opened out onto the fire escape. The window you were currently sitting on the sill of, legs hanging outside onto the fire escape.

You’d been so focused on the rain, the sound of it, the way it felt hitting your feet and the bottoms of your legs, that you hadn’t noticed Mike making his way up behind you. it wasn’t until you felt his fingers lightly trace along the nape of your neck that you knew he was there. You flinched at the contact, turning to look behind you, but even as you looked you knew who it was. Who else would it ever be?

You nearly flicked away the cigarette that you were holding onto, but it was too late to try and hide it now. It was perched so nicely between your fingers—you saw the way that Mike’s eyes trailed from your hand, up your arm, and to your face once more. He didn’t comment on the smoke, or the guilty look in your eyes about it. Instead, he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head before managing to slide down next to you on the window sill.

He mirrored your position, the rain and runoff from the roof above you splattering off the lower parts of his legs. He frowned as he watched it happen, and after a couple seconds, he finally spoke up. “This isn’t comfortable.”

You laughed, harder than you meant to, harder than you thought you’d be able to considering your mood before he showed up. You shook your head at him before bringing the cigarette to your lips for another drag. You spoke, allowing the smoke to swirl out from between your lips with each word.

“You don’t have to sit here, you know. You can go back to bed.”

He shook his head. Waiting for a moment, he reached over and took the cigarette from you and brought it to his own lips instead. It got a chuckle out of you, but you didn’t fight him on it. It was a filthy habit—you both knew that full-well. You didn’t smoke often, Mike even less than that. You blamed it on the stress, as a joke sometimes Mike would blame it on you because some of the only times he ever found himself smoking were in situations like this. Not that he ever sounded all that upset about it.

You’d always loved the rain. When you were younger, you loved it in the same way that most children do. But as you continued to get older, you grew to find it refreshing, grounding even. The world felt like such a mess, and with your job being what it was, it felt impossible to get away from it sometimes, but when all you could hear was the sound of raindrops on metal and concrete, when you could feel the cool patter of it against your skin, for a moment it felt like everything was going to be okay.

Mike clearly didn’t feel the same way, you could tell by how he was fidgeting as the water trailed down his legs. You hummed in amusement as you reached to steal your cigarette back. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you took another drag. The contrast between the warm skin of his bare shoulder against your cheek and the cool water against your legs was more grounding than you could’ve ever hoped for.

“What was it this time?” he finally asked.

The long exhale through your nose brought with it a stream of smoke. He could feel the way that you were shaking your head against his shoulder. “You know.”

He hummed in understanding. He turned his head as best he could to look at you. He watched as you snubbed the last of the cigarette out on the exposed brick to your left. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head again. “I don’t think so.”

Silence grew between the two of you, but it was comfortable. Your face pressed against Mike’s shoulder, his arm looping behind you so that his hand could run up and down your back. The rain continued to hammer down around you, the occasional clap of thunder and flash of lightning breaking up the sameness of it all. Mike knew that the sound, the light, it wouldn’t make you flinch, but part of him was still waiting for it anyway.

The two of you watched the building across the street from you, not able to make out any details between the darkness and the rain coming down. But what you could see, was the lights that would come on and off as people woke in the middle of the night. Maybe they had kids that couldn’t sleep through storms, maybe they were getting water or a midnight snack. Maybe they were slipping out the door after a one-night stand. The possibilities were endless, and on a different night you would’ve talked Mike’s ear off about them all.

You felt Mike’s leg twitch against yours, the sensation of rain not calming for him the way that it was for you. His reaction made you chuckle. Lifting your head up from his shoulder, you said, “You really can go back in, you know.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You hate this.”

He looked at you. “Hate’s a strong word.”

His palm was still pressed against the small of your back, and you soaked in the warmth that was emanating from it. You could feel it even through the fabric of the oversized shirt that you’d worn to bed. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back just slightly as you tried to focus on all of the sensations around you rather than the racing thoughts inside you. Mike could tell, too.

“Talk to me.”

You held the breath you’d just taken in, let it linger deep in the base of your throat. It wasn’t anything that he hadn’t heard before. He probably knew that, too, and you told him as much. “It’s nothing new.”

He shrugged, unbothered by the notion of it the way that he usually was. “Tell me again, then.”

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you found yourself smiling. Mike had this simplicity about him, in the way that he spoke. Sometimes it was infuriating. Other times, like this, it was amusing, comforting even.

You folded your arms across your chest.  Staring down at your legs, watching the droplets run down them, you said, “What if I can’t ever come back?” You looked at him, eyes starting to get glassy. “What if I never shake it?”

His lips dipped down into a pensive frown. He gave a slow nod as he turned the words over in his mind. You knew that there was no way he hadn’t thought about the possibility. Each day that went by, he had to feel that it was more and more likely. How could he not?

“Then we’ll find something else for you.”

You nodded, but it slowly shifted into your shaking your head. “Something else,” you repeated the words carefully. “I don’t even know what else…”

“There’s time,” he reassured you.

You sighed, but you didn’t argue back on it. “I hope so.” You felt him twitch slightly again and you laughed as you reached and patted his thigh. “C’mon, let’s get back inside.”

“I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you managed to carefully get yourself back inside your apartment. “You’re twitching like you’re about to start melting.”

“That’s what happens when you’re made of sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking over his shoulder at you.

You laughed, a real one, one that came easy in a way that most things didn’t lately. You held out your hand for him to take so you could pull him back inside. “Come in before I shut you out on the fire escape.”

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

SVU Taglist: @proceduralpassion @the-hinky-panda @nessamc @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

[witches-unruly-heart]

Saw this post on Insta "Youve just had an offer of £500k but to collect the reward you have to marry a main character from the last TV show you watched. Who is it and would you do it?"

You are so mean! I can only choose one?! Even after thinking about it for weeks, I can't decide 😩

Hmmmm, maybe

OR

OR

I can't shorten the list any more than this, sorry

[the-hinky-panda]

Alright ladies and gents, we have a full Bingo Card!! Let the writing begin!

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

SP's 150 Fanfic Celebration Masterlist Completed.

More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is. Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical💉 Triggering material🚩

A Cold Desert Night❤❤

"You built me a blanket fort?" With Angel Reyes, requested by @daydreaming-belle

****

A Bird's Eye View💦 💦

"Eyes on me or this stops.” With Billy Russo, requested by @sweetserendipity65

****

The Hazards of the Job😨 ❤

"How did you get that bruise?" With Valeria Garza, requested by anon.

****

Fashionably Late💦❤

"Spin for me." and "Come on now, don't be like that." With Frank Castle, requested by anon.

****

In Other Words, I Love You❤ ❤

"I like this song, dance with me?" With Guero, requested by @daydreaming-belle

****

Lavender Bath Drops😨❤❤

"I'm going to run you a bath, and you're not going to do anything." and "Where did you get those bruises?" With Simon 'Ghost' Riley, requested by @bringinsexybackk69

**** 

Bath Oil and Bubbles❤❤

"I'm going to run you a bath, and you're not going to do anything." and "Can I wash your hair?" With Frank Castle, requested by anon.

****

Just the Common Cold😨 ❤❤

"You're sick, why didn't you tell me?" and "Can I just hold you a little longer?" With Billy Russo, requested by @thehumanistsdiary

*****

When Things Go Wrong💦 😨 ❤

"Be good for me and I won't spank you too hard, unless you want me to." and "You're having a panic attack." With Phillip Graves, requested by @candy616 

****

The Northern Lights❤

"It's snowing." With Kate Lawswell, requested by anon.

****

A Possessive Display ❤💦

"How drunk are you?" and "Eyes on me or this stops." With Simon Riley, requested by @candy616

****

A Comforting Embrace😨 ❤

"Can I just hold you a little longer?" With Frank Castle, requested by anon.

[mariamariquinha]

How about “You weren’t supposed to flirt back and make me feel these things, God damn it!” with Mike Duarte. Pretty please!

WELL, since you asked so nicely, honey bunny... SHALL WE?

(look at this gif dammit)

You and Mike were neighbours for years. Not for long, but long enough. Sometimes you chased salesmen away from his front door, other times he reminded Mr. Travis, the neighbor across the street, who wasn't supposed to let his dog shit in your flower bed. It was a relationship of natural complicity between two people who knew each other and lived close. Sometimes you could run into each other at a bar or a club, exchange a few words and even buy each other drinks, but every time you had someone or he had someone.

Sexually, of course.

Relationships have always been a little off the charts for you, but you've always made peace with it.

You didn't ask him about these things. As a cop, Mike had reservations of his own - living in the Bronx, they were even more extensive. What you did know was that he took down gangs, arrived late, and had periodic company. This he never hid. There were several nights when you were sitting on the porch and saw him with some woman beautiful and charming enough for him.

Because he was handsome. Charming. Attractive. And that was the beginning and the end of your sympathy for each other.

One night, however, you went to a bar and your only company, a friend from work, had to cancel at the last minute. You were already there, after all, so you sat down on one of the counter stools and ordered a drink.

"A little dangerous for you to be out here alone, don't you think?"

He slid in beside you, forearm on the counter as he leaned in casually to look into your face. Mike was smiling discreetly as usual, the ambient light giving his eyes a different glow, and maybe it was the little alcohol he had drunk because you didn't remember his biceps being that big.

"I was going to say the same about you, Captain. No overtime tonight?"

"Oh no, we just closed a case, so…"

"Celebrating, then?"

"Mm-hm."

"Congratulations!" You raised your cup, enough to make him giggle at your enthusiasm. "That's why I'm going out by myself, the cops are catching the bad guys."

"Not all of them," It was suppose to come as a warning, but you thought it was truly charming. Well, Mike. He probably didn't even notice his skills. "But what about you? Waiting for a date?"

"Pfft!" You frowned then, sipping on your drink.

"I'll take it as a no."

"Take it as a big no, man. Being honest, I don't remember the last time I got one of these."

"Now you're being a liar."

"Me? Lying to the police? I wouldn't dare," Your body turned to him slightly. "I was Girl Scout. Sincerity is my middle name."

"That dress doesn't look very Girl Scout to me."

Mike checked you out. Not discreetly, nor... trying to hide it, you know? He even tilted his head to the side to see your crossed legs and the scant fabric of your dress. It almost made you flinch - almost. But then you flipped your hair over your shoulder, smirked, and did the same to him.

"And I didn't say I was thinking about that when I chose my dress."

"Ugh!"

For a moment, Mike closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, lowering his head as if in defeat. It caught you by surprise, so you laughed at the mocking way he was reacting to your answer.

"What?"

"You weren’t supposed to flirt back and make me feel these things, God dammit!"

"Feel? Feel what?"

"See? You're doing it again," He tsked, giving one step closer while shaking his head. "You know I've been trying for quite some time, yeah?"

"... Nooo."

"Well, now you know. And I came all the way here trying not to be an ass because you're... You're amazing-"

"Okay...?"

"And you have those eyes that makes me sure that you're a liar. How could you not have someone to take you home? To at least make you feel good? Because I'll tell you somethin', we've been pretending for a while that we don't want this and honestly? Tonight is a good night. So this is my bid."

"You want to fuck me," You raised your eyebrows and he scoffed, licking his lips before staring straight at your face.

"I'm shooting my shot. Risking our friendship."

Which was true. If you weren't interested as well, this could be a downhill without precedents. You could say he crossed the line, that he was proving himself to be an asshole after all, but that's not what crossed your mind, or what came out of your mouth.

"Or making it stronger."

A silence followed this words.

"So," You shrugged. "Your house or mine?"

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

A/C: I hope you like it! ❤️

[bulletproof-love-replies]

The Schedule

Hey guys,

I thought you might like some insight into the schedule of fics that are coming up. This is subject to change depending on what pieces I write as the weeks go on.

Here is the link so that you guys can get a preview

[girlpornparadise]

[ragingstillness]

SVU rewatch ?/?:

There’s a lot of things I don’t like about Duarte but I do wish they’d let him stick around to spar with Olivia every once in a while. I don’t see them romantically, more like those two kids in class who don’t actually hate each other but fight constantly

[bullet-prooflove]

Return on Investment - Joe Velasco x Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @multilin21 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @rosaliedepp @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @legit9thlunaticwarrior @witches-unruly-heart @plaidbooks @kiwiithecrazybird @irishavengersassemble @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond

There's hate in your gaze, it’s the first thing that Joe notices. It’s fire and vitriol, blazing across your features as your eyes fixate on him. Your hands are restrained behind your back, cinched by a zip tie that bites into your skin. You fight the man that brings you to him, jerking and twisting as you try to wrench yourself free.

There’s a 100k in the hold all that Joe holds between his hands, enough to buy you and the rest of the girls that are being sold off. The traffickers hadn’t known what they were doing when they’d snatched you up, they didn’t know they’d taken an undercover officer.

“You want her?” McGuire asks him. “She’s got a lot of fight, good retail value for someone who likes that sort of thing.”

Joe cups your jaw, the leather of his glove feels like a caress against your skin as he looks into that vicious gaze of yours. His thumb strokes over the hollow of your cheek before he leans in closer.

“You’re very pretty.” He tells you.

He doesn’t expect you to spit in his face. His hand threads through your hair, his fingers gripping the strands as he jerks your head back. You hiss through your teeth as he uses his gloved fingertips to wipe the salvia from his cheek.

“Don’t do that again.” His voice has a dangerous lilt to it, one that promises bloodshed if you disobey him. He inclines his head towards McGuire. “You’re right, she’s spirited.”

“We have other buyers lined up if you’re not interested.” McGuire states shrugging his shoulders.

The thought of it nauseates Joe. The idea of another man’s hands on you, breaking you down, destroying you. He knows how it works, man after man until you’re used up and ruined.

“I’ll take her.” He tells the other man as he studies your features. He looks for a sign of recognition but there’s nothing there. You’re good, he thinks, Mike taught you well. Those years spent working undercover in Narcotics have served you well.  “I like them with a little fire, keeps things interesting.”

You snarl at him, and he grips your chin in his gloved hand, squeezing hard enough to leave finger-marks on your skin.

“Behave,” He hisses. “If you’re a good girl I may just keep you for myself. Disrespect me and you’ll find yourself in a brothel in the Bronx, earning back every cent I paid for you.”

Bronx…

He sees the flicker in your eyes when he says the safeword, the one that you, him and Mike use when things get a little intense. It had started one night in Mike’s apartment in the Bronx, the two of you had given him something he hadn’t even known he’s needed in his life. He’d never expected to fall in love with one person, let alone two. Now he can’t live without it.

The moment the word leaves his lips, all hell breaks loose. He hears the klunk of the flashbang as it hits the floor, the yells of NYPD erupting through the building. His arm wraps around your shoulders, guiding you behind one of the concrete pillars and out of harm’s ways as the sound of gunfire explodes through the air.

Joe shelters you from the chaos, his gun slipping into his hand like an old friend. He isn’t afraid to die, he’d give his life for you and Mike a thousand times over if he had to. Your ears are ringing by the time the gunfire stops. You see the flash of an NYPD vest over Joe’s shoulder.

“Mi amor, Mi vida.” Mike greets the both of you as he tucks his Glock back into the holster on his hip. “Thank God the two of you are alright.”

Love Mike Duarte, Joe Velasco & Reader? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[adarafaelbarba]

Papa Joe and Papa Mike hating the show their watching.

The two of them were sat on the couch, one kid each on their lap, and watching the kids show on tv when you came home from work.

“Hey, you guys okay?” They both looked like they didn’t want to be there.

“Sofia wanted to watch the show, and you know how Javi gets when his sister wants something.” Joe explained.

That made you chuckle, walking over to greet them all. You knew exactly how the kids were. The twins wanted to do everything together. They liked the same shows, same toys, same clothes.

“You both look miserable, why don’t I take over and you can go do whatever until dinner?” You suggested, picking Javi up from his dad’s lap.

As soon as he was in your arms, Miguel got up, “I’ll start dinner.” He said softly, kissing the top of Javi’s head, then yours.

Sitting down next to Joe, you brought Sofia over to your lap too, the little girl cuddling close in your embrace. “Didn’t you have a date tonight Jose?” You asked, looking at your best friend.

“It’s laters, after Sofia’s gone to bed. So I can put her down in her crib.”

You absolutely adored how good they were with their kids. The perfect dads, in your eyes at least.

“We’ll be fine if you need to go earlier though, won’t we baby?” You looked down at your daughter, smiling softly at her.

“Nah it’s okay. You two come first always.” He dipped his head to kiss his daughter’s forehead, then did the same to you.

It had all started with two one night stands. With Joe it had been while out of state for a case. Both had gotten drunk and ended up in bed together. Vowing to never speak of it again. But with Mike, you had met at a bar a few days later after getting back to New York and you both hit it off right away, instant attraction.

Then a few months later you found out you were pregnant. With no way of knowing which one of the men were the father.

You had told them soon after you found out and promised to take a dna test so you could find out. They were both there though for every visit to the midwife or doctor. And when you found out it was twins, you were shocked to say the least. Surprised that both babies were from different dads.

Throughout the pregnancy you’d told both men that you didn’t expect them to stick around. Even if you would be sad to see Mike go, the relationship between you two having been solid since day one. But they stuck around, from the time they found out you were pregnant and onwards.

Both being hands on dads to their child and helping out with each others kid too. If Mike had to work late, Joe could easily offer to take the kids to the park. Same if it was the other way around.

“I love Sofia as if she was my own daughter,” Mike had confessed one night when the two of you were putting the twins to sleep. “And I’m sure Joe feels the same about Javi.”

“We’re so lucky to have the two of you, Mike.” Your eyes tearing up a little and he leant down to kiss you softly.

“And we’re lucky to have the three of you.”

~~~

Tagging:

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @thatesqcrush @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @misscharlielulu @xoxabs88xox @muchadoaboutcj @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @thats-jaywalking @cursedashes @mysoulisasunflower @crazy4chickennuggets @imaginelover88 @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @guitita @ladylionstar @achataa @nessamc @peauxheaux @silversprings-mp3 @polkadotpenguin16 @pepperbstark @im-a-slut-for-this-man2 @chickensarentcheap @irishavengersassemble

Wanna be on the tag list? Fill out this form to be part of the team 🥰

[drabbles-mc]

Stomping Grounds

Mike Duarte x F!Reader

Summary: Months after everything between you and Mike crumbled in the worst of ways, the two of you are put face-to-face all over again.

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, light angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: What can I say??? I catch up on SVU and immediately decide that canon has no place here 😂 This is my first SVU fic, and by extension my first Duarte fic. I already want to write more for him lmao but one thing at a time

SVU Taglist (currently just tagging other people I've seen write or enjoy SVU things lol): @the-hinky-panda @bullet-prooflove @nessamc @proceduralpassion (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It had been a long time since you were in the right part of the Bronx to run into Duarte. It’d been purposeful avoidance at first, but then it just became your new routine. The reasons for the switch started to fade from memory the farther your life moved on.

But then it all came rushing back the second you walked into the bar and saw Duarte there with Muncy and the rest of his team. There was no hiding from him, not when he was always clocking every single person who walked in or out of every room he was in. Clearly that was one thing that hadn’t changed. The first scan you took around the bar you found him already looking at you. You almost didn’t believe it until you heard Muncy's laugh. There was no way you were just imagining both of them.

If someone else hadn’t been walking in behind you, you would’ve frozen up right where you stood. You fumbled your way farther inside, too deep to just turn around and walk back out without it feeling strange, without it feeling like a missed opportunity.

You were about to go to the bar, get a drink to try and steel your nerves a bit before throwing yourself into the thick of things. You were a few steps away from being able to order when you heard Muncy call out to you. Being addressed by your last name felt so foreign now.

“We just ordered another round,” she said when you walked over. She greeted you with a grin and an awkward hug as she sat in her chair at the table they were all gathered around. “You can have Duarte's,” she said it like a joke, but you knew that when the drinks got brought over she would be handing one to you.

Judging by the look on Duarte's face, he wasn’t going to fight it, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it either. That seemed to be his MO with your after all.

“Was starting to think you left the Bronx altogether,” Duarte said, letting that be his greeting instead of extending you a real one.

To an outsider looking in, it would’ve seemed harsh. But it was Duarte, and pleasantries were never his strong suit. You considered the acknowledgement a win in and of itself, because you knew that if Muncy hadn’t called you over, Duarte definitely wouldn’t have. You couldn’t really blame him considering how everything played out. It wasn’t anything malicious, even if it had felt that way to him. The two of you were just the victims of the worst timing in the world.

You tried not to think about it as you caught up with everyone. They told you about everything that had been going on, the details they could spare at least. You gave them the broad strokes of what you’d been up to since you saw them. It was hard to separate it out, what you were telling them from the reasons Duarte’s jaw was clenched so tightly the bone of it was about to break.

You didn’t know if you should call it a shame or a blessing. Maybe it could be both. Regardless, you knew that it was unfortunate timing. After months of trying to figure out your place in Duarte's unit, you finally figured out that you weren’t meant to be in it at all. In fact, you figured out that the badge wasn’t for you in general.

That would’ve been unfortunate enough, but those realizations just so happened to hit you the day after Duarte had spent the night at your place. The first and last time.

It had nothing to do with him, with what happened between you. And you tried to tell him that. He didn’t hear it, though, didn’t see it in your eyes how much you meant it—all he saw was you turning in your shield.

The conversation flowed around the two of you. Duarte staying quiet wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, but you felt the weight of it, the way that it was different this time. Apparently you were the only one, because everyone else was talking circles around him, throwing comments and jokes his way that he didn’t respond to. Despite the gray cloud looming over Duarte's head, you were having a good time catching up with everyone else. You’d always meant to keep in touch, but at first it was painful, and then you all were just busy.

Eventually, that same busyness slowly started pulling everyone away from the table. You could’ve gone too, before it was just you and Mike left. You saw it going that way, and as much as part of you wanted to avoid it, another part of you wanted to see what would happen, if anything would happen.

“I guess I owe you a round,” you said when it was just the two of you left, the first thing that you’d said directly to him all night, “since Muncy gave me one of yours.”

You half expected him to reject it, to get up and leave. Instead, he quirked his eyebrow and gave a small nod. “I guess you do.”

When you returned with your drink and his, you asked, “So how've you been? You’re the only one who didn’t give me a run-down.”

He watched you take a sip of your drink. “You know how I’ve been.”

You laughed. “Do I?” You shook your head. “You never answered any of my texts. At one point I was pretty sure you blocked my number.”

“I didn’t.” He took a long sip of his drink. “Thought about it, though.”

You sighed, toying with the glass in your hands. “I meant what I said, you know. It really was just—”

“Do you like it?” he cut you off. “Your new job, do you actually like it?”

“What, you think I’m lying just to save face?” You chuckled at the look he was giving you. “I like it a lot. And for what it’s worth, it’s not a new job anymore.”

He shook his head. “It’ll always be your new job.”

Hearing the sarcasm without the anger was reassuring. For a second things almost felt like they used to be. You missed him, truly. For as gruff and insufferable as he made himself sometimes, you really had missed him.

“So,” he sighed as he leaned back in his seat, “finally decided it was safe to cross back into my territory?”

You let out a small, slightly uncomfortable laugh. Of course he knew you had been avoiding him. He’d been doing the same thing, to be fair, which was why all of your texts went unanswered.

“Actually, no,” you admitted with a sad laugh. “I just had kind of a shit day, and this was where I ended up.”

“Shit day got shittier.”

You gave a small smile as you shook your head. “Not that much shittier.”

“Work?”

You nodded. “Yea. Stakes are different, obviously. Shitty day now doesn’t mean the same thing as it used to.”

“Those kids…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

The laugh you let out was a little more genuine. “I love ‘em. They test me, but I love ‘em.”

“How many of them are gonna end up on my radar in a few years?” he asked, always the brutal cynic.

You shrugged, trying not to let it faze you. “Hopefully fewer now that I’m there.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he could see it on your face that you were where you belonged now. He wanted it to be with him, on his team, but it wasn’t. The tone of your voice, the look in your eyes, you never had any of that when you talked about your work with the gang unit. And he wanted to be happy for you, but he was still stubborn and selfish and admitting things to himself wasn’t the same as admitting them out loud to you.

“You like your boss?” he asked.

All his years of police work and yet he still couldn’t sell that sentence to you in a way that would stop you from seeing through it.

You smiled, nodding. “Yea, he’s, you know, he’s a good guy.”

He saw the look on your face and tilted his head back just slightly, just enough so that you knew he was trying to piece apart what your expression meant. “What?”

You had to laugh. “Nothing, nothing. He’s just, you know, he’s nice.”

“Hm,” Duarte drummed his fingers on the outside of his glass, “I was never good at that.”

You chuckled, not disagreeing with him necessarily. “He’s nice because he can be. You…it’s hard. It’s hard to do what you do and still be nice.”

“Good thing you got out then.” With his tone and attitude it was hard to tell if he was being snide or genuinely grateful.

“Yea…” your voice trailed off as you tried to figure out what you were trying to say to him. “I miss it sometimes. Not,” you chuckled quietly, “not all of it. But I miss parts of it.” You paused. “I even miss you sometimes, too,” you joked.

“Only sometimes?” he quipped right back.

You laughed. “Maybe if you were nicer I’d miss you all the time.” You were joking, of course, because of course you missed him all the time. And you could tell by the look on his face that he knew that too. Clearing your throat, you asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing off your drink before you asked, “You ever miss me sometimes?”

His expression was serious for all of a moment before he recovered, putting the same façade on that he always had. “Sometimes.”

It wasn’t much longer before the both of you squared up your lingering tabs. Neither of you said anything while you were still in the bar about how you were getting home. You knew that Duarte wasn’t going to drive, and you didn’t even have the option if you’d wanted to. You didn’t want to walk home alone, not with everything that had been going on in the city lately, but you also had no desire to get a taxi either.

Going against all the little voices in your head that were telling you not to ask, when the two of you stepped out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, you said, “Think you could walk me home, Captain? For old time’s sake?”

He hesitated, looking at you. You could tell from his expression that he was trying to figure out if there was a play here that he wasn’t seeing. He must’ve decided it was safe enough, because he nodded and started walking in the direction of your apartment.

It was a nearly-silent walk back. You wished you knew what the right thing to say to him was. You felt like you had said everything you’d wanted to say to him when it ended, but he never said anything in return. He still hadn’t ever said how he felt about any of it. Actions speak louder than words, sure, but you still wanted to hear something from him. After everything, it felt like you deserved at least that much.

“It’s been shitty, you know,” the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them, “not hearing from you at all.”

“You looking for an apology?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You knew better than that. “But I just…you never said anything after I left. Like, at all.”

“If I had said something, would it have made a difference?” he asked, glancing over at you as you waited for the crosswalk sign to change. “Would you have stayed?”

You took a deep breath as you both walked across the street. “Would I have stayed on the force? No.” The two of you reached your building and you didn’t extend an invite for him to come up, hoping that continuing to talk to him as you walked through the main door of your building would do the work of that for you. “But just because I left the force, it didn’t mean, you know,” you hesitated as you started walking up the stairs, “it didn’t mean that I was leaving you.”

He scoffed quietly as he followed you. “In the same twenty-four hours that we—”

“I know my timing was bad,” you cut him off, already knowing what his argument was going to be, “but never once did I actually say that I didn’t want to be with you.”

“How else did you want me to take it, then?”

“I was done with the job!” you said, exasperated. “It wasn’t, it wasn’t right for me. There’s no way that you didn’t see that.” You glanced over at him as you said it and you saw the resignation on his face. “Exactly.”

“You could’ve been a good cop if you wanted to be.”

“But I didn’t want to be.” There was a long pause as the two of you walked down the hallway and came to a stop outside your door. “I hated that you just cut me off.”

“I hated that you quit,” he snipped back.

You chuckled softly as you took your keys out of your bag. “Touché.”

“I thought I was part of the reason that you left,” he admitted as he watched you slip the key into the lock on your door.

“I told you that you weren’t,” you replied. “If you’d read any of my texts, or listened to any of the voicemails I left—”

“I didn’t believe you.”

You looked over at him. “Because I’ve always made such a habit of lying to you?”

It was the most that the two of you had ever talked about any of it, and yet he cracked a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it back to him. The two of you were standing in your doorway, both of you knowing that you were lingering longer than necessary, longer than you should’ve. You’d pushed your door open halfway, your hand still on the knob. You watched as his eyes flicked down to your hand before going back up to your face.

“I should go.”

“Do you want to come in?” You both spoke at the same time, resulting both of you to chuckle awkwardly, trying to figure out which one of you was going to follow through on what you’d said.

Duarte cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t.”

“Didn’t stop you before,” you said, more hopeful than you should’ve been.

“And look how that turned out.”

You let go of the door and stepped in closer to him, close enough so that you were chest-to-chest. “Nothing happens the same way twice.”

His shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath that he took. He looked at you, and you could feel the indecision radiating off of him. You knew that there was nothing you could really say that would sway him one way or the other—he was always going to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

When he didn’t say anything for a few more seconds, you took it as your answer. You took it as one more loss. Taking a deep breath, you said, “Goodnight, Mike,” and pressed your lips to his cheek, over the stubble that he never stayed on top of shaving.

You went to step into your apartment, shut the door on all of this one more time. Before you stepped too far, he pulled you back to him and right into a kiss. His hands came up to cup either side of your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his lips moved against yours. All the hesitancy, the manufactured distance he’d put between you, all of it was gone as you melted against him.

When he pulled away, he still held onto your face. He was close enough that you could still feel his breath against your skin, smell the alcohol that still lingered on it. You pushed forward just enough so that your lips brushed against his again.

“Just tonight,” he said, his voice low and rough. It almost sounded like he meant it.

You let him have it, if that’s what it took for you to have him. “Yea,” you agreed, stepping through the door and pulling him with you, “just tonight.”

[proceduralpassion]

village panic garbage for Mike Duarte please 😀

My most recent Maurice blorbo, YEAH!

Panic rushed through you at the realization you were being followed.

You thought you were being paranoid because surely a man wouldn't get on a train to stalk you from Greenwich Village all the way to the Bronx. But you had paused at a nearby garbage can not far from the subway stop and clandestinely watched the man wait for you to make you next move.

Mike had been observing the whole encounter and knew he needed to step in.

"Sweetheart."

You're confused at the name of endearment.

He flashes his badge, "Just play along, I'll get you away from him."

Send in your drabble requests for the sleepover!

[thoroughlymodernminutia]

I want to read everyone’s Duarte fics but I’m stalled on my own and don’t want to feel bad about myself. But I feel like I’m missing out 🫠🫠🫠

[the-hinky-panda]

300 Follower Celebration!!!

Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much! I have officially hit 300! So to celebrate, I present to you a celebration bingo card! The prompts are on the first pic and the characters are on the second one. Just send me a character and prompt and I will write a short fic based on it!

Thank you again for your wonderful support and following!