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queasydoesit · 10 months

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declan's disatrous date: part 2

After a first date has been derailed by an untimely bout of motion sickness, Declan and Lottie attempt to salvage the rest of their day together.

Read Part 1 here.

warning: vomiting & sexual references (just shy of depicting actual sex)

[note: finally finished this story. it is ridiculously fluffy. if y'all don't hear from me after I post this, assume I've rightfully been sent to horny jail.]

***

Declan and Lottie cleaned themselves up as best as they could. Their clothes were stained but Declan felt his stomach settle once the smell of puke faded. As Lottie used a wet wipe to carefully remove the last of the dried vomit from his face, Declan asked, “How are you not even a little grossed out right now?”

“I have an iron stomach. This kind of thing doesn’t phase me,” she replied.

Declan sighed. “Ugh, whatever the opposite of an iron stomach is, that’s what I have.”

“Oh no! Poor guy,” said Lottie. “I've managed to avoid throwing up for years.”

“Ha, I guess we balance each other out.”

She laughed, “Yeah. It comes in handy when I have to take care of drunken friends. Downside is I’m always the designated mom friend when my roommates and I go out.”

“Your friends are lucky! The last time I got super drunk, my roommate drew all over my face with permanent marker — took days to get it off. And he’s a sympathy puker so I’m out of luck there, too. It’s been nice having someone take care of me for once,” said Declan.

“Speaking of which, you should drink something so you don’t get dehydrated,” chimed Lottie.

“Yes, ma’am!,” Declan saluted at her. “Ginger ale it is.”

“Just so you know, I don’t mind taking care of you,” said Lottie. “And not only because I still feel guilty— which I do.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t, because we still have to drive home,” he replied glumly. “Usually when I puke once, I’m prone to it for the rest of the day. It happened the last time I rode the Mortal Coil.”

“Wait, you’ve gotten sick from this same ride before? Why did you get back on it?” asked Lottie

Declan rubbed the back of his head, looked away and answered quietly, “Well, you said it was your favorite…”

Lottie looked at him for a long moment then flashed a mischievous smile. “That’s very sweet of you, but I can’t help but feel responsible. I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

Conspiratorially, Lottie looked around for potential eavesdroppers and leaned close to Declan’s ear, whispering, “As soon as you’re feeling better, I’m going to suck your dick like it’s never been sucked before.”

Then she kissed him on the cheek and leaned back on the bench. She giggled when he sputtered in response, nearly choking on his soda while his cheeks blazed. For the first time, Declan truly believed Lottie liked him enough that she wouldn’t be put off by his gastrointestinal mishaps. Which was a good thing considering he was now pretty sure he loved her.

“Easy there, tiger,” said Lottie with a grin. “We still have to get you home. Don’t worry, I’ll drive. If you start to feel sick, we’ll just pull over.”

Declan was relieved. Whether he got sick or not, he knew he’d be too distracted to focus on the road.

***

After they’d left the park and reached the highway, Lottie peered over at Declan and asked, “How you doing over there?”

“So far, so good,” replied Declan. He knew he was supposed to look out the window to reduce his chances of getting sick, but he was having a hard time looking anywhere but the driver’s seat. Lottie sang while she drove and danced around in her seat. She had a decent voice but, if you asked Declan, he’d swear her singing was the best he’d ever heard.

She blushed when she noticed him staring. “Sorry, I don’t usually sing in front of anyone but my best friends. I just feel really comfortable around you.”

“Don’t stop,” replied Declan, beaming at her. “I’ve been enjoying the show. You could charge admission!”

“It’s your car so you can listen for free,” she said, laughing.

Declan marveled at the events of the past week. Somehow he’d ended up in the passenger seat of his shitty car, covered in puke, being driven home by an incredible girl who somehow liked him anyway. He was appreciating the serendipity of it all when he began to feel a familiar queasy twinge in the pit of his belly.

Please, no, he silently begged his stomach. Please just let me enjoy this.

Declan had finished the bottle of ginger ale so he sipped on his water in an attempt to stave off further discomfort. At some point, Lottie reached a hand over to rhythmically rub his thigh, her fingers climbing a little higher with each stroke. He soon began to feel his arousal and his nausea increase simultaneously. Both sensations warred for his attention until one finally reached a crescendo.

“I’m gonna — uuurrp — I’m gonna be sick,” he said urgently.

Lottie squeezed his knee. Her voice was calm. “We’re almost to the next exit, then I can pull over. It’ll be alright. We still have the bags if you need one.”

Declan gagged as he fumbled with a bag and brought it to his mouth. He belched sickly. Nothing came up, so his stomach squeezed again. Declan’s abdominal muscles were already aching from their earlier exertion. Now each contraction of his stomach felt unbearable. The pain brought tears to his eyes by the time he managed to heave up a small mouthful of liquid.

“Oh, honey,” said Lottie softly as she heard him struggle. “Look, there’s a rest area just ahead. I’ll pull in and we can get out of the car.”

Declan responded by retching into the bag again. Once Lottie had parked, he threw open the passenger door and lurched out of the car. He stumbled in the direction of some nearby grass but didn’t make it before he was halted by an intense cramp. He doubled over and clutched his stomach tightly.

Motion sickness always left him feeling dizzy and the next time he gagged, he almost fell face-first onto the parking lot. Fortunately, Lottie reached out an arm to catch him. Unfortunately, she caught him around the middle, and the added pressure on his abdomen caused him to spew a geyser of soda and water.

Declan continued to hurl up everything left inside him. The earlier round of puking meant it didn't take long for his belly to empty itself onto the hot pavement. It was unsatisfied by this and continued to punish Declan for the afternoon's bad decisions. He dry heaved until he felt his anguished stomach would be turned inside out.

Declan's retching was violent and loud, and he could feel Lottie sympathetically wincing at every pained sound that escaped him. She had stayed behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist to help hold him up. He was exhausted from being sick and appreciative of the assistance. Even more so when her hand occasionally brushed against his crotch as she rubbed his belly. Against all odds, he was still turned on.

Declan realized there was something hot about being so vulnerable in front of Lottie, about letting her take care of him. He’d been forced to lose control of his body and Lottie had responded by making sure he had everything he needed. It made Declan trust her in a way that felt especially intimate. Not to mention, she kept touching him. He was a big fan of her touching him.

The thought of being with Lottie was almost as much consolation as her caretaking. As he finished the latest round of heaving, Declan remembered what she had whispered to him earlier and shivered at the thought. Lottie seemed to mistake this for the chills because she touched one hand to his forehead to a check for a fever.

Declan straightened up and reassured her, "I'm okay, really.”

“That would be more convincing if you didn't sound so hoarse.”

Declan cleared his throat and spat on the ground. “Look, I know it seems rough, but this is how always it’s been for me when I get motion sickness. I promise I’ll be good as new once I can rest at home.”

Lottie stepped back from him a little awkwardly. "Glad to hear it. Sorry for getting touchy. I like being doted on when I don't feel well but not everyone does — I hope I didn't overstep."

"Trust me, I appreciate it. This is not how I hoped today would go, but you've been amazing. You are amazing."

Lottie lowered her eyes at the compliment and blushed. Declan blushed when he realized what he'd said, and even more when he saw Lottie blushing. He coughed and added, "Why don't we go back to the car? I could use more of that water."

***

“You haven’t told me how to get to your apartment,” said Lottie as they climbed into their seats.

“You can just drive to your place. I'll take the car back home from there.”

“Didn’t you say your roommate was out of town?” Lottie raised an eyebrow. “You just threw up so hard you almost collapsed. There’s no way I’m letting you drive yourself to an empty apartment. I'll get you home and in bed, then I'll take an Uber to my dorm."

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble,” said Declan. He was starting to feel guilty about everything he’d needed Lottie to do for him on their date. When he’d imagined ending the night together at his place, Lottie babysitting him was not what he’d had in mind.

“I insist. It’ll make me feel better to know you’re okay. Plus, I really want to see where you live!”

Declan silently wondered if he’d ever be able to say no to this girl. He was too flattered by her concern for him to seriously consider turning her down. He smiled in spite of himself and sighed, “Alright. But I'm going to drive you home after I get cleaned up! I don’t want you to have to take an Uber by yourself at night.”

Lottie seemed agreeable to this as she started the car without protest. She didn’t turn the music up or sing while driving this time. Instead the two of them talked, with Lottie asking Declan all sorts of questions and telling him about herself. Eventually, it occurred to him that she was trying to keep him distracted from the movements of the car. Amazingly, it worked and they arrived without any further complaints from his stomach. Declan was so relieved to be home and out of the car that he could have kissed the sidewalk in front of his building.

While he unlocked the apartment door, Declan's stomach turned not from nausea but from nerves. Lottie Lewis was coming inside his apartment. Where he lived. Their interactions had always been impersonal until recently because Declan had tried so hard to hide his crush on her. When he'd believed he had zero chance with Lottie he didn't have to worry about losing her. What if she got to know him for real and didn't like him after all?

"I love your place! Ooh, look at all these records," she said, kneeling in front of the bookcase where Declan and his roommate, Felix, kept their extensive vinyl collection.

"They're not all mine. We both take advantage of the employee discount, as I'm sure you can tell," he replied.

"The record shop is where you met your roommate, right?" Lottie continued thumbing through the records.

"Yep! He trained me when I got hired there. Wasn't much help, to be honest. He's not exactly a model employee but he knows his music. We get along really well."

"Where's your bedroom? I'm dying to get out of this dress," said Lottie suddenly. She continued thumbing through the records.

Declan was taken aback, "Oh, um, it's, uh..."

"You said you wanted to get in the shower, right?" she added. Declan gaped at her. It's not that he was opposed to the idea, exactly, but after pining over Lottie for half his life he'd expected their first time to be more romantic. Lottie seemed uncharacteristically cavalier about the whole thing.

She glanced up from the shelf and paused upon noticing his expression, "Declan? What's wro-- oh. OH! No, that's not what I meant."

After a nervous giggle Lottie collected herself and continued, "Sorry. That was definitely not clear. I want to go into your room alone to borrow a t-shirt and change out of this dress with the door closed. I thought I could wash our clothes while you shower, um, also alone with the door closed."

She gestured at the washer and dryer at the end of the hall as if to re-emphasize that she'd had only laundry on her mind. Declan laughed, relieved, though he was still pink when he pointed her in the direction of his bedroom and said, "Borrow anything you want. I'll leave my clothes in the washing machine since you, uh, since you want to do the laundry. But only if you want to! Don't feel obligated, I mean."

***

Declan thought a lot about the laundry while he cleaned himself up. After brushing his teeth, he rinsed with mouthwash twice in case the laundry wanted to kiss him. While he scrubbed off the day's sweat and vomit residue, he pondered what might happen if the laundry joined him in the shower. He imagined the laundry changing in the next room, naked under one of his t-shirts, throwing his clothes into the washer with her own to tangle together in a wet, sudsy swirl.

In front of the bathroom mirror, Declan tried to arrange his towel-dried hair in an attractive manner. He gave up when it occurred to him he had no idea what sort of hairstyle others found attractive. He put on a comfortable but nice pair of shorts and a band t-shirt without any holes or bleach spots. Declan considered tying a hoodie around his waist to hide how hard he was after daydreaming about Lottie, but decided it would just attract more attention. He exhaled deeply and headed for the living room.

Lottie had made herself comfortable. She'd put a record on and sat on the sofa with her legs curled to one side. He pretended not to notice that her underwear (tiny pink shorts with lace trim, good God) was poking out from beneath the borrowed shirt. It didn't cover much because Lottie was gorgeously, distractingly curvy.

"Hi," she smiled up at him. "Have a nice shower?"

"Yeah, it was great," he said, though he didn't think Lottie needed to know just how great. "I feel reborn."

"Glad to hear it," she replied, "It's going to be a little while until my clothes are washed and dried. I thought maybe you'd want to relax on the couch and watch a movie or something."

"That sounds perfect," Declan said as he carefully sat down neither too close to nor too far from Lottie. He noticed she'd grabbed the wastebasket from his bedroom and put it by the couch. He didn't think he'd need it but he still appreciated the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

"Good," said Lottie. She pulled Declan's throw blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out across his lap.

Declan laughed, "I'm not even cold."

"No, but I am," she replied as she scooted towards him. He put an arm around her as she readjusted the blanket to cover them both.

"How's your stomach?" Lottie asked. Her head was resting on one side of Declan's chest, almost under his armpit. He was grateful he'd remembered to reapply deodorant.

"Mostly back to normal," he said. "My muscles still feel worn out but I'm pretty sure I'm out of the woods."

"I could rub them for you, if you want," Lottie offered quietly.

"I'd really like that," Declan replied. Slowly, Lottie slipped her fingers up under Declan's shirt and inched them toward his upper belly. The sensation of her hand trailing across his bare skin nearly made him moan with pleasure. They sank into each other while Lottie kneaded at Declan's sore spots and took all his aches away. They never bothered to put on a movie.

In different circumstances, perhaps with a different girl, Declan might have relaxed enough to doze off. But here and now, he was closer than he'd ever been to Lottie, achingly beautiful Lottie with her wild hair and boisterous laugh and kind eyes. Declan's body thrummed with the electricity of his unexpressed attraction.

Desperately, he wanted to touch Lottie, to bring her into his bed and spend hours demonstrating to her the intensity of his feelings. Declan held back because he didn't know what Lottie wanted. He found her difficult to read -- sometimes she was bold and forward with him, other times she seemed shy and uncomfortable. Declan was no ladies' man but he'd never felt so uncertain with a woman before. She made him hyperaware of himself, like a little kid getting tongue-tied around his first crush because he couldn't think of the perfect thing to say. Lottie was his first crush, but it occurred to him that he'd never really gotten to know her in all the years he'd spent burying how he felt.

***

Lottie stopped moving her hand and pulled away from Declan. She tilted her face up at him. "Declan, are you sure you're okay? Your heart's beating really fast."

Declan had been so lost in thought that he needed a moment to process what Lottie had said. He was sure his heart would stop altogether as he took in the sight of her face, only inches from his, her rosebud lips parted and eyes round with worry.

"I'm not sick," he admitted finally, "I've just never been so nervous before."

Lottie smiled and touched a hand to her own chest. "God, me too."

"Why?" blurted Declan.

"Same reasons you are, I guess."

"But you're perfect," said Declan incredulously.

"What? Of course I'm not!" said Lottie, and Declan could see his own incredulity reflected in her face.

"Lottie, there is virtually nothing you could do that would make me not want to be with you. I'm crazy about you. I've been crazy about you since we were kids, you have no ide---"

Lottie cut him off with a kiss. A really, really good kiss. Declan's heart sank when she pulled away suddenly, but then she said, "This is okay, right? You're feeling up to it?"

"I have never felt more up to anything in my entire life," he answered truthfully and pulled her back into him. Lottie responded by climbing onto his legs and straddling him where he sat. Declan ran his hands up her back and she shivered.

Lottie pulled off the borrowed t-shirt after Declan fumbled to unhook her bra underneath it. Once the stubborn bra had finally been discarded on the floor, Declan moved his attention to Lottie's breasts, which were ample and beautiful, each nipple adorned with a piercing.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed. His hands moved to cup them, and he explored each one with his mouth, slowly circling his tongue around both perfect nipples. Lottie moaned and grinded her hips against his lap. She leaned her head down to kiss his neck.

"Do you remember what we talked about earlier? On the bench?" Lottie whispered in his ear. Goosebumps rose up on Declan's arms when he felt her panting against his skin.

"Yeah," Declan responded simply, because of course he remembered.

"Do you want me to--"

Declan cut her off, "I don't want you doing anything just because you feel guilty."

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want to. And I really, really wa--"

Once again, Lottie was interrupted, this time by a loud buzzing sound. They both jumped. Declan collected himself then sighed, "That... that would be the washing machine."

"Oh," said Lottie, sliding backwards off Declan's lap. "I guess I should put the laundry in the dryer. You said you wanted to drive me home, and it's starting to get late..."

"Yeah, I guess I did. Say that, I mean," Declan replied. "I will drive you home. Unless... unless you want to stay the night?"

Lottie held his gaze as she lowered herself to the floor in front of him.

"Thank God," she said, a wicked smile forming on her lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

#sickfic #emeto #whump #hurt and comfort #caretaking #my ocs #my stories #declan williams #lottie lewis #mapleton university

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

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As It Should Be | Chapter 5: Breaking In The Newbies

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: After a rough and emotional night, Frankie makes a decision on Jack’s offer. Before they can get to that though, the morning debrief with Champ brings back a familiar face and Jack has you and Frankie teach the junior agents a lesson during combat training.

Rating: M

Warnings: Canon typical violence, guns, swearing, discussions about safewords.

A/N: Alright, a lot of stuff needed to happen here and we’re going to have a little action and see Frankie show off a bit. It was important to me that the discussion of safe words and Jack checking again for consent happened in a chapter separate from the actual smut. For me, it further emphasizes that Jack doesn’t want Frankie to feel pressured to accept or do anything he doesn’t want to because it’s “in the moment”. Consent is sexy, friends.

I have to give my love and thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the beta reads, the fantastic constructive criticism and encouragement!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 4: Company | AO3 | Art

The morning sun stirred Frankie. Even with his eyes still closed, he could tell the room was alight, but the warmth that surrounded him had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with the body next to him. He opened his eyes and realized he was definitely not in Whiskey’s guest bedroom. Instead, he was very much curled into Whiskey’s lightly rising chest. Frankie blushed, very unused to being the little spoon, and moreover, not used to someone’s morning wood poking at him. Whiskey was gently roused from sleep by Frankie’s small movements. He lifted his arm from around Frankie’s waist and stretched.

“G’morning Flyboy. You were having nightmares, so I brought you in here.

“Oh, sorry for waking you up and… thank you.” Frankie felt guilt sting at his throat.

Whiskey grunted and rolled out of bed to go shower.

“Nothing to worry about, partner. I’m no stranger to those kinds of nightmares.”

Frankie was grateful Whiskey understood and made no effort to pry. With a grunt of his own, Frankie got up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen, intent on trying to get coffee going while Whiskey showered.

Whiskey finished his shower and stepped out to dry off, then wrapped his towel around his waist. He was drawn to the kitchen by the smell of coffee, Frankie’s initiative quirking the corners of his mouth into a small smile. He leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Frankie poured their coffee, handing Whiskey’s to him black. Jack hummed his approval, a sound which he noted made Frankie preen a bit.

“Good boy.” Jack gestured to the coffee with a small wink as the air seemed to be pushed from Frankie’s lungs. “Now, as much as I enjoy the view of you in just my shorts, let's get you into something you can wear at the office.”

Frankie was rooted to the spot, Jack’s “good boy” ringing in his ears and sending a wave of warmth throughout his entire body. Jack didn’t comment, just let his smirk speak for itself as he took his coffee back to his room and opened the doors to his closet. His fingers tabbed at a few of the hanging suits as he looked back to see that Frankie had finally uprooted himself and joined him.

“We’re similar in build, so you ought to be able to pull off one of my suits…”

Frankie winced.

“Right, well then, let’s go with something a touch more casual.

Jack grabbed a pair of jeans, a blue button down, white t-shirt, belt, and socks, handing each article of clothing over to Frankie as he moved around his closet.

“There, that should do you. Comfortable, but still presentable for Statesman.”

Jack gave him a smile only to notice Frankie shifting his weight.

“Thanks,” came Frankie’s reply as he turned to get dressed. He didn’t mind going without boxers, but the sudden realization that he needed more clothes of his own hit Frankie as he dressed in the clothes Jack had given him.

“Hey Jack?”

Whiskey hummed in acknowledgement as he finished getting dressed himself: jeans, suspenders, white button down shirt, and a navy wool blazer.

“I was thinking about your offer last night, and… I’d like that.”

Whiskey turned to look at Frankie, giving him a once over, distantly thinking about how good Frankie looked in his clothes, and a mischievous smile lit up Whiskey’s face.

“I’m looking forward to it, Flyboy. We’ll discuss things a bit more at the end of the day in my office. It’s about as close to neutral territory as we’re gonna get for that conversation. For today though, I want you to be a good boy and stick to me like a shadow. We’re meeting with Champ first thing. Then, we’re gonna have some fun.”

Frankie nodded, rocking back on his heels for a moment, then fell in step with Whiskey as they headed out, both of them grabbing their respective hats as they went. The ride in Whiskey’s Bronco was quiet, and soon enough they were riding the elevator up to their floor in the Statesman tower.

You were seated at the conference table facing the double doors with Pope to your right.

“You sleep alright, Pope? Hope Ginger didn’t keep you too late.”

“She’s something, that’s for sure, Hawk, but she did let me go, eventually.”

He gave you a good natured laugh that slowly lost its shine.

“You hear from Fish, Hawk? Ginger told me where she put him up and I went to check on him last night, but he never answered.”

Worry bloomed in your chest, not that it had really gone away after seeing Frankie leave yesterday. You figured if he wanted or needed to talk, he would have reached out to you. Honestly, you had hoped he would have checked in with Pope at some point since he probably felt more comfortable with him. Just then, the conference double doors opened, giving way as Jack strode in, greeting you with a smile and tilt of his head. Relief eased the tension in your chest and shoulders when Frankie followed closely behind Jack. Your eyes darted over to Whiskey, fixing him with a questioning gaze as you realized the clothes Frankie was wearing belonged to Jack.

“Fish!” Pope practically jumped out of his chair, rushing over to Frankie with a duffle bag in tow. “I was worried about you, hermano. I went to the hotel, but you didn’t answer.”

To Frankie’s credit, his face didn’t betray much, but both you and Pope knew that Frankie didn’t have any other clothes aside from what he had left with.

“Uh, yeah, must’ve just missed you.”

You could tell Pope was filing the information away for later. Your eyes wandered to Jack’s again and you raised an eyebrow. At least you now had an idea why he had cancelled on you last night.

“Here, Fish. I figured you’d want your go bag.”

“Gracias, hermano.”

They clasped arms, then took their seats. Frankie grabbed the orange tinted glasses he had left the day before and put them on, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose. His gaze fell to yours and he gave you a small smile, but before you could say anything, Champ’s holo image flickered to life.

“Catfish! You’re looking mighty fine! Much better than yesterday.”

“Yes sir, thanks.”

Champ nodded. He’d been worried about how the man would fare, especially considering the news yesterday.

“Right, down to the business at hand. It does appear that a new cartel is making their play at center stage, picking up where Poppy left off. They’re not following Poppy’s business model, though. From what we understand, the group is headed by four individuals: Isabella Gómez, Duke Hernández, Steven Weisel and Emily Weisel. They’ve taken to calling themselves La Linda Rosa, likely after the Red Agent flowers. Up until now, they’ve been your run of the mill cartel, but it’s our belief that the Weisels have been instrumental in their production and processing of Agent Red. Recently, the Weisels purchased land in Colombia, and from our drone coverage, they may have set up processing plants there. We don’t know why the sudden shift to Agent Red, though. The plants themselves go for $500k per plant, and they take time to mature. We don’t think the Weisels are responsible for acquiring the plants, so that leaves either Isabella or Duke.”

Frankie’s attention drifted from Champ to the pictures on the screen and swore.

“Fuck. Pope, you know who that is, right? I thought they were in Australia?”

Pope did a double take, recognizing his old informant’s brother. The Statesman stared at the two men, waiting for them to elaborate. Frankie sighed and settled into his seat a bit more, knee bouncing anxiously.

“Four years ago, Pope came to me and the rest of our old team to take out Gabriel Martín Lorea and make out with the money he had stockpiled. Pope’s CI, Yovanna, and her brother, Duke, both worked for Lorea. In exchange for helping us, Pope got the brother out of jail and we dropped them off in Peru with papers to Australia and $3M. Looks like Duke wasn’t satisfied with life in Australia.”

Ginger frowned and pulled up Duke’s known associates, Yovanna’s picture following the others on screen.

“Yovanna appears to still be living in Australia, but it’s possible Duke grabbed the money and ran.”

Frankie closed his eyes, lifting his cap and carding his fingers through his hair before placing the hat back on his head and sighing.

“What’s the plan? Sounds like the plants and processing facilities need to be taken out, and then there’s the compound, too.”

Pope nodded, then sighed as well. This was bringing back memories for the both of them.

“We’ll also need to be wary of the local agencies. They’ll be on the lookout for anyone suspicious, especially if it’s anything like how it was with Lorea.”

Champ nodded and tilted his head to Ginger.

“We’re doing our own recon and then we’ll break out teams. Pope, Catfish, we’d like you to at least help with intel, and given your experience in taking down Lorea, if you’re up for it, I’d like you both on the compound assault team.”

You saw Pope and Frankie share a look, Frankie’s jaw clenched and then he nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Great, not to worry boys, Statesman has the best resources, stateside or otherwise. For now, I’m sure we can keep you plenty busy. Whiskey, don’t forget, today is your day for combat training with the new recruits. Bourbon, Cranberry needs you to test equipment in the lab later today.”

“Pope, could you actually stick around again for a bit? I’ve got some more intel I want to run through with you.” Ginger chimed in, and you were surprised he didn’t grimace at the idea of being locked in a room for hours again.

With that, the meeting was over, Champ’s holo image disappeared and they took their glasses off. Jack stood up and Frankie was quick to follow him, much to your intrigue. You stood up as well. You were eager to watch Jack have his way with the new agents. It was always fun. Whiskey seemed to know you would be following and beckoned for you to enter his office first, followed by Frankie, and Jack closed the door behind him.

“Go ahead and set your bag down wherever you’d like, Flyboy.”

Frankie dropped his bag in a corner then promptly started to rifle through it, pulling his shoes out and quickly swapping his dress shoes for them. He let out a sigh of relief as he rolled up on the balls of his feet and rocked back on his heels. He hated dress shoes.

You took a short minute to admire Frankie in the blue button down while he rolled up his sleeves. Jack’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you into him.

“Missed you, darlin’.”

Smiling, you took his face in your hands and tugged him down for a kiss.

“Missed you too, Jack.”

You murmured against his lips, and you resolved not to ask about last night. Whatever happened, Frankie must have reached out to Jack, not you or Santi, and you’d leave it at that. Jack hummed contentedly for a moment before he pulled back and winked at you.

“Are you coming to watch us break in the newbies, darlin’? I was thinking you and Flyboy could do the first demo.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but there was a playfulness in them as well.

“Us?” You questioned Jack with a raised eyebrow.

“First demo?” Came Frankie’s question as he whirled around to face you and Whiskey.

Jack’s smile broadened and he started out of his office and towards the elevator, expecting you and Frankie to follow.

“What are we demoing, Whiskey?”Frankie asked, more pointedly this time.

“Well, our newbies are scheduled to learn about disarms and what happens when the enemy goes for their gun. I thought it’d be good to have them start out seeing Bourbon disarm you.”

Frankie huffed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the elevator wall. You smiled as you leaned against the wall opposite Frankie.

“It’ll be just like old times, Fish.”

He groaned and shook his head.

“Why have me do the demo though? I’m not a Statesman agent.”

Before you could respond to reassure Frankie, Jack chimed in, eyeing him with nothing short of gleeful mischief. Jack enjoyed breaking the new agents in almost a little too much sometimes, but it was good for them, and he was good at it.

“No, you’re not, you’re ex-Delta Force, Frankie. These agents have had plenty of training, but they don’t have your experience, Flyboy. They’re gonna learn the difference today.”

Jack shared a similar philosophy with you when it came to combat training and sparring. You had been a terror in hand-to-hand, still were, you were proud to say. You knew there was often a size disadvantage, but you had learned to use your opponent’s momentum against them, and more importantly, you didn’t follow convention. In sparring matches, most people fought like they were sparring, which was fine for beginning, but there was a big difference between practicing and being in an actual fight. You never advocated for an all out brawl, but you refused to follow the typical learned pattern that people naturally gravitated towards. Tom had been predictable and a sore loser. Will was predictable but sweet. Benny, well, there was a reason he was semi-pro, which left Santi and Frankie. Santiago was fun, and you had lost your fair share of matches to both him and Benny. Frankie had a spark in his eyes when he sparred, but no matter how hard you had tried to get him to let go, he refused. It had nothing to do with anything silly like you being a woman, more to do with the fact that Frankie never seemed to just let himself go in that way. You had only seen him let go a bit twice, both times in the field and well worn down by the day.

The elevator dinging startled you out of your reverie, and you followed right behind Jack towards the training room. Frankie assumed they would be entering a gym of sorts, but he was sorely mistaken, and he realized the ‘floor’ they were on must have been composed of several. The ‘room’ was really more of a training complex housed in the unassuming tower. To the right, a group of 20 people stood, waiting. He gave them a cursory glance, and then his eyes were pulled to the range. He’d definitely have to visit to let off some stress. He followed as you and Whiskey led the way to the group of agents and hung back slightly as the group stood to attention.

“Well, look at this promising group of newbies, Bourbon. D’you think they’re up for today’s lesson?”

You let the smirk on your lips turn into a full crooked smile, you had more than a small idea as to what Jack was going to do. Looking over your shoulder, you caught Frankie’s eye and nodded for him to join you.

“I don’t know, Whiskey, simple concept, but we’ll see what their execution is like. My money is on our guy.”

The agents before you bristled, full of young pride that was well-earned. Whiskey’s hand clasped over Frankie’s shoulder as he introduced him to the new agents.

“Y’all are in for a treat. Our friend, Catfish, here, has generously volunteered to help train you on close quarters combat and disarms. Bourbon will demo the defense first. Catfish,” Whiskey took a pistol from the long table off to the side and handed it to Frankie. “Your objective is simple: shoot a blank at Bourbon.”

Frankie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his eyes sought yours to make sure you were comfortable. An answering smile was good enough for him, and he checked the pistol, confirming there were no live rounds, before looking back up at you. The two of you easily slid into a ready position, and Jack gestured for the new agents to give you some room.

“Halcón, when you go for the takedown, ten cuidado con mi espalda. Ya no soy joven.” [be careful with my back. I’m not young anymore.]

It only mildly annoyed you that he already knew you were going to go for the takedown, after priding yourself on your spontaneity earlier, but you pushed that out of your mind as you both stood a few steps apart. There would be a split second when Frankie pulled his pistol and took a readying step. That would be where you would have an opening and make your move. A tense handful of seconds that seemed to stretch on filled the air. Jack watched the new agents, the tension between you and Frankie seemed to embed itself in the junior agents’ lungs as they all waited with bated breath.

Nothing telegraphed Frankie’s quick movements as he drew his pistol, but on instinct, your body was moving. He saw your left hand fly out to redirect his momentum and push his gun hand away, quickly shifting to plant his weight, keeping you from landing the takedown this early. The training you and Frankie had received taught you to be efficient and end things quickly. That was easier said when you had spent years training together. The junior agents seemed to still be holding their breath while you traded blows. Your moment of opportunity came, and you took it. Frankie seemed to understand what was happening but his balance was off. You stepped into him, your hip bumping his as your hand came to grip over the top of his pistol. The next thing everyone knew, you were both on the ground, the gun skittering harmlessly away, and Frankie’s arm in an arm bar. He grunted and quickly tapped at your leg to surrender, and you let him go. The class was quiet until Whiskey broke the silence as you helped Frankie to his feet.

“I hope you lot were paying attention to Catfish here, he did a great job demonstrating what to do when facing a difficult opponent like Bourbon. For this exercise, the rest of you will attempt to take a shot at Catfish and he will disarm you by whatever means he deems necessary.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, knowing Whiskey was being intentional with his wording.The laugh died quickly, however, at the words of one of the junior agents.

“How was that a good example? He lost, he was disarmed. We should be practicing against someone better, who would last longer.”

At your side, you saw Frankie stand up straighter, his feet moving shoulder width apart as his hands clasped behind his back and he fixed the younger agent with a steely gaze. Even as his breathing remained calm, it was obvious the words had gotten to him. Whiskey’s good natured grin turned into a smug smirk.

“Davis,” Whiskey began, calling the man out by his last name and emphasizing he hadn’t earned a Statesman moniker. “Since you’re so eager, by all means, approach Catfish when you’re ready and show us how your Statesman training fares.”

Frankie kept his gaze leveled at the cocky junior agent, noticing in his periphery that you had moved away to give them plenty of room. Davis moved to be a few steps in front of him. Frankie continued to hold the stare as he questioned Whiskey.

“Are you sure about this, Whiskey?”

Whiskey nodded, Frankie’s gaze flickering over to him for the briefest of seconds, then he brought his hands to a loose ready position at his sides. Davis drew his pistol, but Frankie grabbed the barrel with his left hand, stepped forward and hooked his right foot behind Davis’ lead leg and pushed on the agent’s chest with his right hand. Davis went down, but found himself suspended by Frankie’s hold on his shirt. The class was filled with littered gasps and snickers. The ‘fight’ was over before it had really begun. Frankie helped right the agent and stepped aside to let him retrieve his firearm.

“Attaboy, Catfish! Davis, looks like you’ve got some work to do. Here’s another lesson, agents: Statesman agents aren’t your only competition out there. We’ve got some fancy gear and trainin’ here, but there’s a world of intelligence agents and mercs out there. Catfish served with Bourbon, and that should tell you all you need to know.” He paused a moment to let the information sink in as Davis returned to the line to lick his wounds. Then Whiskey called the next agent.

Frankie breathed in, then out through his nose, and got ready. As they went, the junior agents in waiting began to pick up on a few of his techniques, and he had to adjust, but time spent practicing and training at Benny’s gym had prepared him well for this.

You watched as Jack’s eyes danced while he followed Frankie’s movements. The circumstances earlier had prevented him from truly appreciating how efficient and capable the quiet man was. The last of the junior agents had made their attempt and consequently failed. Frankie’s breath was coming more unevenly now, and rightly so. What he had gone through would be exhausting for anyone.

“Well done, everyone, a round of applause to Catfish for taking the time to demonstrate y’all have a lot to learn before getting approved for field work. Now go on and line up at the range and get warmed up. We’ll be running sims next.”

The junior agents dispersed to the range towards the back of the room. Frankie let out a breath and rolled his shoulders to let out some of the tension he had been carrying, then started heading for the range, eager to let off some more steam.

“Where do you think you’re going, partner?”

Frankie frowned, his eyes darting between you and Whiskey in confusion.

“I thought we were going to go shoot?”

Jack smiled then winked at Frankie.

“They’re warming up, you still have one more person to disarm, Flyboy.”

Frankie’s fingers twitched, and you could see that the exercise earlier had worn at his usual restraint.

“No lasso.”

Whiskey handed you his lasso, then unloaded his revolvers and passed you the ammo. He holstered his revolvers again and stepped into position in front of Frankie. You watched as a new kind of energy seemed to crackle between them, and some of the junior agents seemed to sense it, stopping to watch as well.

Whiskey was fast, but training at the boxing gym had helped Frankie with his speed. As Whiskey drew his revolver, Frankie sprung forward. He didn’t bother to grab the gun. Instead, he brought his fist down on the barrel, sending it skittering away. Whiskey’s fist connected with Frankie’s side, and you heard, rather than saw, Frankie’s reservations fall away with a snarl. He took hold of the inside of Jack’s blazer, grabbing the grip of the other revolver holstered there and made to pull it out and take the ‘shot’. Jack’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn’t expected Frankie to go on the offensive, but he found he was impressed. He liked a challenge. Before Frankie could draw the revolver from the holster, Jack grabbed his wrists and wrenched them down, then back up quickly to break Frankie’s hold, and then Jack threw them both to the ground. Both men recovered quickly, but in the chaos, the revolver had fallen to the ground and Frankie scrambled for it. Just as his fingertips touched cold metal, Whiskey’s whip flicked the revolver further away, and they closed the distance to grapple with each other again.

Your match with Frankie had been a well practiced dance, and this was too, in its own right. However, where yours had been fluid, Whiskey and Frankie were bordering on feral. For a moment, it appeared that Frankie had gotten the upper hand. Whiskey staggered backwards, about to fall, but as he went, he flicked his whip, the corded length wrapping around Frankie’s throat. He tugged, sending them both to the ground. Frankie grunted and struggled against the snare he was in. Whiskey wasted no time in scrambling up and pinning Frankie, his knee to the pilot’s back. Frankie continued to struggle until Whiskey leaned down so that only the other man could hear.

“Easy now, Tiger, save your strength for tonight. You did good.”

Frankie relaxed under Jack’s weight and nodded. Whiskey got off of him with a grunt and unwound the corded length of the whip from Frankie’s neck, then pressed a button on the handle to recall it. He helped Frankie up and dusted him off a bit.

A few of the junior agents were still watching in awe. It was rare to see a senior agent like you or Whiskey truly need to put some effort in, and to see it twice in one day was something else entirely. You walked over to the two men and put your hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“You did great, Fish, nice to see you let loose for once.”

He scoffed good naturedly and swooped to pick his hat up from off the ground.

“You guys had quite the audience while you were at it, too.” Your smile was barely contained as you raised an eyebrow at Jack.

This time it was Whiskey’s turn to scoff.

“Well, I hope they’ve been practicing. They’ll be running the sim after Frankie does.”

Whiskey patted Frankie on his shoulder then gestured for him to follow. He led him to an enclosed area that occupied the majority of the left side of the training complex. A small structure that looked like a house sat inside the enclosure, and you knew it was furnished to match whatever simulation scenario had been determined. Whiskey stopped at a table just outside of the enclosure and gestured to the rifle, combat knife, folder, and headset.

“Alright, Flyboy, I know you’ve done this sort of exercise before. Your brief is on the table there. Good luck.”

You and Whiskey walked a bit further along the enclosure to two screens. One cycled through a variety of camera angles while the other would connect to the headset once Frankie turned it on.

“You’re really having Frankie run the simulation?”

Whiskey nodded, “I didn’t have him help with the demo just to teach those newbies a lesson, darlin’. He’s been through hell, and I figured getting him to work through some of that in sparring and the sim would help. That, and, well… you can’t blame me for bein’ curious, Bourbon. Last time I got to see what he could do, we were a bit busy trying not to get shot.”

You can’t help but to chuckle and shake your head, your attention going back to Frankie as he geared up.

“Frankie turns into a different person on missions sometimes, used to scare the hell out of people on base who saw it. No one ever suspected it because he was always the quiet one, but he’s just as competitive as the rest of the guys on the team. He was just always scary good at keeping a level head and focusing on the mission. You’ll see.”

Frankie put on the kit provided for him then flipped through the brief before lowering the headset and advancing. The brief had been fairly simple: infiltrate the compound, rescue the target, and escort the target to the exfil location. They even provided a decent description of the target. The virtual course populated guards patrolling the 3 entrances. He opted for the path of least resistance with only 2 guards posted.

From the screen, you and Jack could see Frankie take a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing even as he crept towards the two guards. You knew it was because he was willing himself to let go, to let his instincts and muscle memory take over. He was lightning fast as his knife came out and he landed brutal and precise fatal blows to the targets on the screen. In a normal situation, he would hide the bodies but the miracle of technology meant he didn’t have to. It was beautiful in a devastating way to watch Frankie move with such confidence, stealth, and precision. He peered around a hallway, noting the sudden influx of guards and catching a glimpse of red at the end of the hall. The brief had indicated the target would be in red, and it made sense that there would be more guards to ensure the target didn’t run off. He counted five hostiles in the hallway.

Five guards, five bullets.

Once he had downed the hostiles, Frankie stepped through the hallway, catching a glimpse of the target and swore at how cliché the scenario was. The brief had just said the target had last been seen wearing red.

“¡Me están jodiendo! ¿En serio? ¿Una mujer en un vestido rojo?” [They’re fucking with me. Really? A woman in a red dress?]

You could both hear Frankie through the mic link in his headset, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It quickly died as you and Whiskey tensed. The woman in red was a decoy, one that statistically caught the majority of users by surprise.

“Ma’am, are you-” She moved just barely and he saw the glint of where a gun was holstered. Frankie didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he fired a shot to her chest and grumbled to himself before moving on. Normally, it wouldn’t have taken him that long to figure it out.

Whiskey whistled, thoroughly impressed. It wasn’t long after that Frankie found the real target and reached the ‘exfil location’.

“Damn, sweetheart, you sure picked a good one.”

He winked at you, and you grinned back as Frankie pulled off the headset and his kit, then walked over to you.

“Alright, agents! Catfish successfully completed the sim in 15 minutes, that’s your time to beat!”

A chorus of groans echoed in the training room. Whiskey ignored them and clapped Frankie on his shoulder.

“You did good, Flyboy, really set the bar high. Most people get caught up by the decoy.”

Frankie’s chest puffed out a little at the praise, but he was soon shaking his head. Before he could deflect the compliment, Whiskey squeezed his shoulder.

“Feeling hungry, Flyboy? Figured the three of us could grab a quick lunch before Cran steals Bourbon here away from us.”

“Yeah, I’m starving. Didn’t expect you to keep me busy like that.”

Vermouth entered the training room, and you waved him down.

“Hey, Vermouth! Watch the junior agents for us. Whiskey’s just got them running the sim. We’re going to go grab lunch!”

Without waiting for Vermouth’s answer, you grabbed Whiskey and Frankie’s hands, dragging them out of the training room and to the elevator.

“There’s a deli not far from the office we can walk to, and it’s late enough that we should miss the rush.”

Walking arm in arm with both of your boys, you could think of very few things better than right now. You didn’t care that you were in the middle of downtown New York. All that mattered was Whiskey on your right, and Frankie on your left.

Frankie did his best to relax and not let his anxiety and internal struggles get the best of him. Whiskey’s words echoed in his mind: “When it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it.” That was a lot easier said than done, but he was working on it.

You were right, the timing made it so that you had missed the lunch rush. You all ordered your food, Whiskey stepping in to pay with a look that silenced both you and Frankie, then you all went to sit down.

Whiskey practically sprawled in his chair, his legs encroaching your space under the table and Frankie’s space next to him. Frankie sat somewhat stiffly but the more he ate, the more he seemed to relax. You nudge his foot with yours playfully to grab his attention.

“How’s your back? Mr. Ya-no-soy-joven.”

The three of you laughed, and Frankie shook his head with a wide grin on his face.

“I’m not! Gotta leave that shit for the young guys who think they’re invincible.”

“Young guys like Davis?” You shot back, smug on Frankie’s behalf.

“Cocky kid had it coming.”

There was no anger in Frankie’s eyes, only the slightest lilt of mirth in his voice as his gaze met yours, then Whiskey’s. Whiskey leaned forward and barked a laugh while patting Frankie on the back.

“He sure did. The lot of them were in need of a reality check. That’s why Champ specifically likes to have me or Bourbon take at least one pass at our junior agents. After all those hours spent training, they tend to forget that there are much bigger fish out there.”

Conversation flowed easily between them for the rest of their lunch. It reminded Frankie of the prior morning, when they were enjoying breakfast and everything just felt right. It felt as if all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and this time, this time, it didn’t feel fleeting.

Walking to the office was much more comfortable than the walk to the deli had been. You noticed that Frankie was far less stiff under your touch on his arm, even leaning into you occasionally. You parted ways in the elevator. You were heading to the lab to play guinea pig for Cranberry, and your boys were headed upstairs to Whiskey’s office. Frankie seemed hesitant to let you go, and you did your best not to spook him, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Given everything that had happened, things needed to be almost wholly in Frankie’s court, at least until he was more comfortable around you. You had certainly noticed, however, how easily Frankie and Whiskey seemed to allow each other into their respective spaces. The elevator doors closed behind you as you strode down the hall. You were glad that they were comfortable together, though. It had definitely been a concern of yours, considering their respective pasts, but you also thought that there was the potential for them to relate and understand each other better than most.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, and as directed, Frankie remained Jack’s shadow. Jack did his best to keep from laughing when 5pm rolled around and Frankie began to subconsciously bounce his knee. He was scrolling on his phone, lower lip pulled between his teeth and brow furrowed as he tried to focus on whatever was on the screen.

You knocked on Jack’s open office door, raising an eyebrow when you saw Frankie startle at the sound. He wasn’t usually this jumpy. Jack’s gaze met yours, and you could see the amusement and mischief that bubbled in his eyes.

“Hey there, darlin’, you getting ready to head out for the night?”

“Just about, wanted to come see my boys before I do.”

Frankie’s knee stopped bouncing at your words, his phone falling into his lap as he looked up at you. You motion for him to scoot over a bit as you sit down on the couch next to him and rest your chin on your hand.

“We’re still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

You posed the question to the room in general, even though the three of you knew that it was really directed towards Frankie.

“Uh yeah, I’m-I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow,” Frankie says after clearing his throat and gives you both a shy smile. Leaning over, you take his large hand in your own and give it a squeeze.

“Great!” Standing up from the couch, you smooth your clothes, give Frankie a kiss on his cheek, and then kiss Jack. “I’ll find us a place, and we’ll figure it out more tomorrow. Night, Frankie. Night, Jack.”

A minute later, you’re gone, and suddenly there’s nothing keeping Frankie’s mind off of the time, which is painfully close to 6pm, when Jack said he’d be done with work. The moment the clock turned that final, eternal minute, Frankie sat up straight, attentive, and alert as his eyes watched Whiskey.

Jack leaned back in his chair, stretching, then relocated next to Frankie on the couch.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything tonight, Flyboy. If you feel like you’re not up for it, we’ll just grab dinner and head home.”

Frankie shook his head and took a steadying breath.

“No, I want this. I-I could really use it, Jack.”

Whiskey nodded, eyes wandering over Frankie as he adjusted on the couch.

“Alright, I use the green, yellow, red system. You need me to stop for whatever reason, call red, and that’s it, no questions, no hard feelings or fuss. I’ll get you cleaned up and help you come down. Sound good?”

Frankie nodded, his tongue suddenly thick and his mouth dry in anticipation. Jack tutted.

“I need you to use your words, Flyboy.”

Frankie swallowed, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I understand, s-sounds good.”

“Good. Now…” Jack pulled a small pad of stationary paper and a pen from the side table. “I want you to write out what you’re ok with and any hard or soft limits you have.”

Frankie nodded, then took the pen and paper and began writing.

[click for better quality]

A blush took hold of Frankie as he handed it back.

“It’s what I can come up with off the top of my head, for tonight at least. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up though.”

Jack’s eyes were dark as he perused the list, looking up from the paper to Frankie, he stood up with a smile.

“C’mon Flyboy… we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Text

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

FOREVER YOU

》 sadly, angst (chuuya x reader)

》 trigger warning! death

》 summary: it’s your birthday, and Chuuya has plans

》 word count: 2.2k

》 i- i tried.. i wanted this to be better but also i suck so have some slight angst, guys 🥺 let me know how it is

“every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that God ever created”

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Chuuya hummed to himself as he strolled into your shared apartment, flinging his coat on the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen with the groceries. Skilfully, he started chopping up the beef and toasting the bread, making your favourite beef sandwich, with no changing the recipe you taught him.

An hour later, Chuuya was armed and ready. He looked at the wall clock. 11am. Right on time. He had requested a leave day from Mori, to which Mori had no qualms about.

Every year, on this date, he’d request a day off. Unless an extremely urgent matter came up that only Chuuya could handle, the ginger would rather spend the day with you. It was your birthday– and anniversary– after all, and even though you’d always tell him it wasn’t necessary, he did it anyway, and he knew you were secretly grateful for it. For the past three years, the two of you had a routine: meet up at the same spot, 12pm, and spend time together.

Picnic basket in hand, he got ready to leave the apartment. “Today marks the third year,” he whispered to himself, heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Why do I still feel like this?”

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By noon, Chuuya had arrived at the usual spot. His lips curved into a smile as he spotted where you were, slowly making his way over. He thanked the heavens that the weather was good today. It was a breezy day, and even though it was noon, the sun wasn’t too strong. Not that it would matter much, there was a lot of shade provided by the trees near your spot.

Chuuya wore the biggest smile he could manage as he approached you, his mind flashing back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

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It was five years ago.

You were the secretary to the lousy excuse of a CEO of a tech company, who happened to be Port Mafia’s enemy. Diligent and knowledgeable, you had attracted Chuuya’s attention since you introduced yourself. All he had wanted was to extract information directly from your boss, but he had ended up getting it from you. As he expected, you had been smart enough to see through his disguise. But much to his surprise, you voluntarily agreed to cough up information on your boss. The disdain you had for the CEO was obvious by how you handled the whole situation. Chuuya didn’t know what went down between you and the CEO, but he knew you hated the man, and you wanted to be rid of him. So, after the whole ordeal, which thankfully landed the CEO in jail, Chuuya offered to help you get another job, away from that environment.

That was when the two of you had formed a friendship. At first. But after a few dinners, a few wine discussions later, you couldn’t help but admit it to yourself too, he was as attractive as they could get. Chuuya had been nothing but considerate, putting you first, thinking of you even when he should be worried about himself. It was hard not to fall for him. It was a big bonus that he is as handsome as he is. Not that you could ever find it in yourself to admit it to him directly, considering how shy you could be when it came to these things. But, nevertheless, Chuuya knew how you felt.

As your friendship progressed, the dinners outside after work translated to dinners in either of your homes, the glasses of wine you usually drank turned into bottles, and the small conversations turned into passionate kisses.

You loved how he was always gentle with you, making your heart melt, treating you like the most precious thing in the world. Something you had never felt before, despite having been in several serious relationships in the past.

Chuuya, on the other hand, had never dated seriously before you, and it surprised him how fast he had been moving with you. But it was a good kind of surprise, a pleasant surprise. Not once in the relationship did Chuuya ever regret pursuing you, or letting you into his whirlwind of a life. You were of strong mind, and never let the fact that he was an executive of the Port Mafia be a problem. If an issue arises, you certainly weren’t a child about it, and it was one of the many things Chuuya admired and respected you for. Any arguments that happened would never find its way into the next day, and anything petty or toxic never found their way between the two of you. And he had decided, then and there, you were made for each other.

It had been only six months in and the two of you had already decided to get a shared apartment, solely due to the fact that it was getting tiring only getting to see each other through video call every night. Both of you did have hectic work schedules after all. The decision to move in together proved to work wonders for your relationship. He knew he had never felt as happy as he did after cohabitating with you. Heck, just after your relationship passed the one-year mark, Chuuya had already thought about marriage, and he was glad that you seemed to be on the same page as him.

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And today, it’s the third anniversary. Chuuya couldn’t believe how fast time flew. He had laid out the food and poured the wine in a wine glass. It was a simple meal, and yet it meant so much to him. Slowly, his hands traveled into his coat pocket, fiddling with the small velvet box.

“Hey,” he mumbled, hesitant. “If all that didn’t happen, would you’ve said yes?”

But you didn’t say a word.

You couldn’t.

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Three years ago.

Chuuya had left the mafia headquarters early and was going to head to your workplace to surprise you. It was a special occasion after all. He bought a bouquet of your favourite flowers before heading over. He was grinning ear to ear as he got closer to your office. He could just imagine how happy you’d be the moment you saw him. He couldn’t wait to give you an endless amount of surprises that day.

But then it all happened in a split second.

He was just across the street, and even in the crowd of people, your eyes had caught his. A throng of people pushed past you, running out of the company lobby. The structure had already started to crumble, and you knew it was too late. There was no way you could escape in time, no way Chuuya could propel himself forward in time. You were in too deep. But then you smiled as you mouthed to Chuuya, ‘It’s okay.’

And then the building swallowed you.

‘Bomb kills 37 in suspected terrorist attack’ was the headline for your demise.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

There was only one word to describe Chuuya after what he witnessed: inconsolable.

A part of him was lost forever.

He didn’t show up to work for weeks. Mori knew exactly what his executive needed, and he didn't interfere in his grieving. There were no urgent missions that needed Chuuya’s personal tending to anyway. And even when he finally did appear, no one dared mention you. Those who knew of the two of you already texted Chuuya their condolences, not that any of them ever got a reply.

How could he bear to see or talk to anyone when he blamed himself for not being able to save you? All he could think of in the weeks after your death was how he should’ve went off earlier, how he probably shouldn’t have stopped for the flowers, then maybe, just maybe, you would still be in his arms, alive. Perhaps engaged to him, even.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

The first anniversary consisted of just a bouquet of daisies, your favourite.

The second anniversary saw a little more effort. There was music, and Chuuya recited some poetry.

And now, now was the third anniversary. Of your death.

Dying on the same date you were born. Was this what people considered poetic?

Chuuya pulled his hands out of his pockets, letting go of the box. He reached for the sandwich he made and took a bite, well aware of the tears welling in his eyes. He didn't stray from your recipe at all, and yet it tasted different. The wine he downed did nothing to soothe the ache in his heart, serving only to make it worse when he remembered it was your favourite.

He spent the next hour there with you, staring adoringly at your gravestone. Just seeing your name carved on there made him feel just a little more home. Sure, he always visited when he had the chance, but with nothing in tow. Your birthdays would always be special. He had decided that when you were still here and he would keep it that way even when you’re not. No matter how stupid he felt talking to thin air, he would still do it anyway. It was the only time he would ever allow himself to act as though you were still here. Not that he could talk much. Just a few words and he would start choking up.

It was the same every year.

After visiting you, he would go back to your shared apartment and clean up. Although, it was empty almost 364 days of the year, given Chuuya lived in his own apartment, the one he had before he moved in. He couldn’t stand spending the night alone in this place, not anymore. He also couldn’t bring himself to throw any of your belongings away. Everything was still where they were three years ago.

Usually he would just make sure everything was neat and tidy before leaving to occupy himself. But this year, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but wallow in your loss. The moment he got back, he shut the front door, leaned back against it and fell to the floor. The tears he had tried to hold back came rushing out. He looked around and all it did was make him feel even worse.

All he could see in the empty living room was the two of you playfighting on the couch. He was tickling you, and happy tears would be streaming out your eyes. You were deadly ticklish. You couldn’t tolerate it for the life of you. Or the times you would tickle him instead, when he was beating you at a playstation game. Sometimes he’d still beat you, and you’d pout and stick your tongue out so adorably. Then he’d let you win the next game.

In the kitchen he could see himself throwing flour at you during one of your baking sessions. There were days when you were bored and had roped Chuuya into baking with you. He had feigned defiance by playing with you during the process. Truth be told, he loved doing anything with you. You always made it a good time. Baking would usually end with the both of you covered in flour or chocolate, sometimes not even having baked anything. And he wouldn’t trade it for all the food in the world.

In the bedroom all he could envision was the intimacy. The first time you had fallen asleep together, his arms wrapped around you, the alluring scent of your hair permeating his senses. The first time the two of you became one, how gently he had handled you then, how passionately you had returned his love. And similarly, all the times after that.

Then there was the bathroom during your morning afters, where you would be brushing your teeth and Chuuya would appear behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you into the shower with him instead. How you’d complain but you’d be smiling brightly at the same time. You’d be content to be pulled anywhere, as long as it was with Chuuya.

The last place his eyes laid on was the balcony, still decorated with the fairy lights he had placed. Exactly three years ago, he decorated the balcony with fairy lights the moment you left for work. That was all part of the plan. Decorate the balcony, go to work, leave early, surprise you at work, go for a good dinner, come home... and propose to you. You had been together for two years then, and Chuuya didn’t want to wait any longer.

Chuuya pulled out the velvet box from his coat and opened it. The diamond ring glimmered brightly. Not once did he stop carrying the ring. He didn’t even know why, he just did. It was as though he felt like leaving it around would risk the chance of him forgetting you.

And god, he didn’t want to. Never. You meant the world to him. The only one he was sure he would sacrifice himself for. But he didn’t get a chance to. You had left. And neither of you had a say in it.

He leaned his head back in frustration, his hands falling to the floor, his grip around the red velvet box never loosening. But for the first time in a long time, he let himself go, he let himself cry this out, his emotions taking over him. All he could think of was the grief, and how everything would be fixed if only you were here. Why did you go somewhere he couldn’t follow? Why wasn’t he allowed a goodbye? Why of all people did it have to be you?

I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss how you’d make such a mess whenever you cooked. I miss coming home to you. I miss touching you, kissing you. I miss our little talks. I miss everything about you. I miss you, I fucking miss you.

“Come back, I love you,” he sobbed, burying his head between his knees, “Please come back to me.”

It’s so lonely. Too lonely.

︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼

“please come home, this doesn’t feel right.”

490 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 3 years

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 31: Impeccable Timing

Previous chapters // Montserrat's masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OFC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner [If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Once again, Montserrat and Rafael find themselves in the situation that has almost become a 'tale as old time' and this may be the last time Montserrat puts herself out there again. It's all in the timing.

Montserrat sat on a metal table with her brother on the opposite side. She felt terrible for bringing the bad news, even more bad news than what he already had. "I'm so sorry, Gael. I promise we're trying to figure it out-"

Gael reached for one of his sister's hands and gave her a small smile, the best he could do right now. "I know you are trying. You don't need to remind me. The bail money is excessively high. I don't want you or anyone else to waste it on me."

"We just need $5,000 more. I know we can raise it I just...I haven't figured out a way to do it," Montserrat shook her head. And it wasn't like she wasn't trying. For the past two days she'd been going over her own finances along with her father's and even Casey's but between the three there wasn't any more money they could gather. Each of them had already put up a substantial amount, including Damian's own offer...and it still wasn't enough.

"Montserrat, when's the last time you slept?" Gael's question confused Montserrat since it wasn't pertinent (in her opinion) to the situation.

"I-I don't know," shrugged the detective. "Who cares."

"I care," Gael said, and sharply too. "Because you're spreading yourself too thin. What about your job? Have you gone back already?"

"I'm on an indefinite leave," Montserrat said casually.

"Montserrat-"

"-I'm just meeting with Calhoun to know your situation and I'm working to get some more evidence with Damian, alright? I can sleep when you're out of jail and free of any accusations."

"Montserrat," Gael gripped Montserrat's hand, urging her to stop and listen to him even if it was for just a moment, "I really appreciate everything you're doing for me. I know you hate Calhoun-"

"-eh, it's more of a frenemy thing," Montserrat cut in but Gael went on before she could discard everything else he wanted to say.

"But you're paying her big bucks to solve my case. And then you're taking care of my girls and God knows that's not an easy job."

"Yeah, I never knew putting a four year old to sleep involved...so many things," Montserrat wanted to yawn just thinking about all the tricks she had to pull so Ivana would fall asleep. "But it's okay, because you're my brother and I know these accusations are false."

"Are they?"

Montserrat blinked at her brother. Why was he looking so serious?

"I've seen the pictures, okay? I know everything that happened and...I can't help wonder...what if it is my fault those people got hurt?"

"Shh!" Montserrat quickly went. This was a tactic she would normally love if she hated the perp but this was her brother and he was innocent. "Shut up! Anything you say here can be used against you!"

"I'm only thinking-"

"-no!" she snapped. "You know for a fact you did everything by the book. You did all the evaluations, followed every code. You know that."

"So then why did people get hurt?"

Montserrat shifted in her seat. It pained her to know that they still didn't have an answer. It was an outright mystery why that building collapsed. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out. In the meantime, just stay put and...be a bit patient with me. I'm gonna get that money to get you out of here."

"Thanks," Gael sighed. "Before you go...can I ask how my girls are doing?"

Montserrat smiled. "Ivana is fine. The thing about being 4 is that she is in an endless blissful bubble. She thinks you're just away."

"Thank you...and Juliana?" Gael shared a meaningful look with his sister. Teenagehood was already hell; he was sure he was only making it worse for his daughter right now.

"She's….uh...taking it hard," Montserrat swallowed hard. It was a bit of an understatement but she wasn't going to worry her brother more than he already was. "But we're handling it - I'm handling it."

"Handling a teenager is not an easy job and Juliana already has a temper…"

"She's going to be fine," Montserrat assured him despite not knowing it herself. "I'm going to make sure of it."

"Thank you," Gael gripped her hand again. "Really...thank you."

"What's family for?" Montserrat's smile would only last until her brother was taken away. Because as soon as she left, she handled yet another call from Juliana's school. She made a quick trip to the school and walked straight into the school's main office. She informed the first secretary she saw that she was there for Juliana and was immediately directed to her niece sitting outside the principal's office.

"Are you frikin kidding me?" she hissed at Juliana as she hurried up to the teenage ginger. "It's only noon!"

Juliana sat with her legs tightly closed and her arms crossed just as tightly against her chest. She looked like a four year old who'd gotten a scold...and she just might get one.

"What happened?" Montserrat bent down in front of her niece, letting go of the anger for a minute in hopes of getting the story from Juliana before she got it from the principal.

"I just did what I had to," Juliana curtly answered.

Montserrat tilted her head, then. "What did you do?" her voice sharpened.

Juliana did not answer.

The principal's door opened up to reveal a short, brunette woman dressed in a formal gray dress. Montserrat had come to know the woman in the past week as Principal Jannae Cams. "Miss Novak?"

"Yeah," Montserrat straightened on her feet. "Here I am...again…"

Cams turned away and led Montserrat into the office. Montserrat closed the door and inwardly sighed. She prepared herself for whatever Juliana pulled now.

"You should know, first and foremost, that we do not tolerate any type of violence in this school," Cams took her seat and left Montserrat to figure it out and take her own seat. "Which is why Juliana is suspended for the next three days."

"What?" Montserrat blinked. "What did she do?"

"Got into a fight with another of our students. Juliana was seen by at least three other students when she threw the first punch."

"My niece would never hurt anyone," Montserrat tried to say but Cams already had the story prepared and so cut her off.

"She broke the other student's nose. And when we asked Juliana about it, she admitted it. Juliana initiated the fight. She's suspended."

"I don't...I…" Montserrat drew in a deep breath to calm herself down before she too initiated a fight. "I have no idea what happened but I know for a fact that Juliana would never act like this unless she was provoked. What did the other student have to say about this?"

"That she was punched," Cams said, overly sarcastic which only fueled Montserrat's own anger. "In the nose. The family's pretty upset, as you can imagine."

"Well, I'd like to talk to this student and know what happened."

"Miss Novak, I understand that your family is currently undergoing some...problems, and I think it's affecting Juliana negatively. Perhaps you should take these 3 days of suspension as a way to talk to Juliana or, at the very least, get her some help."

Montserrat may have wanted to throw her own punch, but that wasn't like her either. She closed her eyes for a second to take another breath in. "Juliana's father, my brother, is being falsely accused so...yeah, it might be affecting Juliana but do you know what? She never fought before and even now...I know she wouldn't ever hurt someone so I'd really like to know what that other student had to say."

"I'm sorry, but that would be up to the parents."

Montserrat pushed herself up from her seat. "Fine," she practically spat before leaving the office. She grabbed Juliana by the arm on her way out of the main office, ignoring the teenager's cries to be let go until they were in the school hallway.

Classes were still in session which gave them the perfect chance to talk freely.

"I want to know what the hell happened that would lead to you breaking someone's nose!" she demanded from Juliana. "And don't you dare huff at me. What happened?"

"I already told Principal Cams that I punched Eleanor's nose!"

"Yeah, got that, what I want to know is why!?"

"Because she kept talking about my Dad like he was some criminal! She said he was a murderer and that he should rot in jail so you know what? I punched in her nose," Juliana folded her arms again, "And if I hadn't been pulled off her I would've gladly punched her again."

"Oh God Juliana," Montserrat pinched the bridge of her nose. Yeah, she should've seen this coming. "She was riling you up-"

"-of course she was! I'm not stupid!"

"No, but you were stupid enough to fall for it," Montserrat couldn't help but snap. "And now you've been suspended for 3 days. What the hell am I going to do? I just told your Dad I had things under control-"

"-you saw Dad?" Juliana's eyes widened. Her entire face lit up. "Can I see him!?"

"No! Because you're grounded!"

"What?" Juliana snorted. "You can't ground me. You're not my Mom."

"But I am your aunt and your current guardian so guess what? Grounded. And be grateful that I'm not mentioning this to your father. He's worried sick about you and Ivana."

"Well I'm worried too, but I can't do anything about it can I?" Juliana turned away, nearly letting her hair whip Montserrat's face. "I can't even see him!"

Montserrat had to pray that Juliana would see some light and be patient, otherwise there would be another type of hell coming for them.

~ 0 ~

As soon as Montserrat had gotten Juliana back home, the teenager locked herself in Montserrat's bedroom. She and Ivana had been staying there while Montserrat took the couch. But even then, Montserrat couldn't dwell too much in the suspension because she had to meet up with Damian about the bail money. Once more, they went through each other's finances, Casey's and Montserrat's father but they were still coming up short.

"Woah, what happened to my kitchen?" Kara's voice pulled the two from work to see her and Sonny walking into the apartment.

"We're just trying to figure it out again," Montserrat groaned and crumpled up an old bank statement in her hand.

"You guys are still short?" Sonny came over to see the handful of papers around Montserrat's immediate area.

"Yeah, the same 5 grand and no matter how we look at things...it doesn't add up."

"I told you guys I could put up 2 grand," Kara offered but Montserrat shook her head. "No. You need that for your salon's expenses."

"You're putting up your entire life saving's, girl," Kara countered but Montserrat still wouldn't give in.

"I'm sure, with a couple more days, we can figure it out," Damian said.

"I don't want Gael to spend another day in there," Montserrat sighed. "There's enough problems already and if I can get Gael out...that would really be nice. I just picked up Juliana because she's been suspended for 3 days."

"What happened?" frowned Sonny. The girl seemed like such a sweetheart.

"She punched a girl and broke her nose."

"Ha," Kara smirked. "Been there, done that."

"Yeah," Damian scowled at her and brought a finger to his nose as if it were still broken. "Watch out, Sonny."

The detective in question threw a concerned look at Kara.

"Juliana's getting picked on because of what's going on with Gael," Montserrat brought them back to the story. "So if I can get him out then at least he can be here to help them because obviously I'm not doing a good job."

"Hey, you're doing what you can," Damian got up from his chair and moved to Montserrat's side.

"Dad has Ivana right now because I couldn't pick her up on time from school," Montserrat brought her hands to her face. "I'm crashing here."

Damian gently pulled her hands from her face and squeezed them in his. "You're doing good. Why don't you get some rest? I can take things from here."

"Are you kidding? I can't go to sleep right now-"

But Damian pulled her right up, bringing them just a bit too close that had Sonny eyeing them. "I can take it for a couple hours. Get some rest."

"Yeah, he's right," Kara stepped forwards. "Take my room and if Juliana comes out we'll make sure she doesn't get into more trouble."

"I...I guess…" Montserrat gave the two siblings a soft smile. "Thanks. Really." She gave each a hug though it seemed to linger a bit more with Damian.

Once more, Sonny noticed it and had to hide his frown.

But before Montserrat would leave, she turned to her partner. "I've been meaning to ask, how's Nick?"

"He's good," Sonny answered her with a small smile. "The charges got dropped, actually. And, Olivia's acting commander again."

"What? What happened to Declan?"

"Some undercover mission, I don't know. But Liv's back in charge. And we're all waiting for you to come back."

"Believe me, I really want nothing but this nightmare to end too," Montserrat gave him a quick hug before leaving for a nap.

Kara waited to speak until Montserrat closed the door to her room. "Okay, now that it's just us...how bad is it?"

Damian threw a weary look at the papers left on the table. "We've gone through it dozens of times and...we are just out of money. Not to mention the fact Montserrat's solely paying Calhoun. She can't put up her entire savings for this."

"So what can we do?"

"Any of you guys got 5 grand just lying around?"

"I wish," Kara sighed. "My 2 grand still stands."

"You need that, though," Sonny reminded her. He'd love to help out but he was stuck with bills as well. Plus, he had a feeling Montserrat wouldn't he accepting his money anytime soon.

"We'll come up with something," Damian insisted. "But for right now I'm gonna head back to work. I know I told Montserrat that I would stay here and focus on the bail money but I think I would be a little bit more useful if I tried to find more evidence to help the case. Bail money becomes useless if the defendant is no longer a defendant but a convict."

"Yeah," Sonny nodded. He had mixed feelings about the guy but at least he knew Damian's heart was in the right place. "I need to head back to work too," he told Kara.

"Thanks for having lunch with me," Kara gave him a hug and a kiss before sending him off. Of course no one told her that she would be left to pick up all the papers from her kitchen table and floor.

~0~

"So she's not coming back anytime soon, then?" Olivia was disappointed, yet understood, to hear Sonny's relay of Montserrat's situation.

The detective stood in the middle of the bullpen's desks. He'd come in a few minutes before they were to discuss a new case potentially going to trial. They were only waiting for Rafael to get there.

"Nah, she's got way too much on her plate," Sonny said. "Juliana just got suspended for 3 days."

"What she do?" Amanda asked, looking just as surprised as Sonny had when he initially heard the news.

"Broke another student's nose."

"Teenagers," Fin said as of that was a reasonable explanation for anything.

"Those faces worry me," Rafael said as he came in. "Did the case go south already?"

"Everything's still intact," Olivia eased his worries. "We were only talking about Montserrat's troubles."

"Right," Rafael did a poor job looking casual. Truth was he hadn't heard from Montserrat in days and he didn't have the courage to call her. If she hadn't reached out to any of them, it was because she was too busy. He just had to learn how to control himself. "How...is she doing?"

Olivia gestured to Sonny since he had all the information. The detective shook his head. "Not so good. Way too many problems for one person to handle."

"Is no one helping her?" there was a sharp tone to Rafael's words that Sonny, and pretty much everyone else noticed.

"Well, yeah, but...it's a lot. Right now Montserrat's just focused on that bail money."

"She still hasn't collected it?"

"$5000 short."

"Oh…" Rafael let a moment of silence pass by before he moved the group onto business, but it didn't mean he'd forget what Sonny told him. And much less that it would stop bothering him.

When he was to leave, he managed to pull Sonny aside while everyone went onto their assigned tasks.

"Exactly how much does Montserrat need?" he asked very quietly once they were out in the hallway.

"About $5000 but listen, councilor, I know where you're getting at and believe me I've thought of doing the same thing," Sonny admitted in the same hushed tone Rafael used. "But I think we both know Montserrat would kill us if we tried giving her the money. Kara already tried doing the same and she got the same answer."

"That's insane. She needs help and we can give it to her." But even as Rafael said it, he knew there was no way Montserrat would take his money. She was too proud. Plus, if roles were reversed he wouldn't take money from her either.

But the thing was…

He didn't care.

He needed to help her and he had the means.

So he'd take the chance and be smart about it.

~0~

"Kara, I'm going out," Juliana was adamant despite having the blonde woman standing in front of the apartment door.

"No, you're not. Your aunt said you were grounded!"

"And I said that I wasn't!"

Kara blinked. She couldn't get how the hell Juliana turned into some temper-tantrum teenager - well, she had an idea but it still wasn't cool. "Your aunt is resting and you really need to let her. She has been spreading herself thin just to make sure you and your sister are okay."

"Well I'm not okay!" Juliana snapped. "Because my Dad isn't here! He's being accused of murder, haven't you heard?"

With a sigh, Kara leaned away from the door and walked up to the girl. "And your aunt is working so hard to prove he's innocent. Now you have to do your part and be a good listener."

Juliana scoffed and practically pushed past Kara to get to the door. Kara called for her to stop but of course Juliana never even looked back. She only slammed the door shut behind her. With a groan, Kara hurried to the door and opened it, only to bump into Rafael instead.

"I'm curious, do you or Montserrat ever just say a normal 'hello'?" he rubbed his nose with a common frown on his face.

"Sorry," Kara rubbed her own face. "You didn't happen to catch Juliana out there, did you?"

"Yeah, she looked mad as hell."

"She is." Kara sighed and let her hand drop to her side. "What are you doing here, anyways? If you came for Montserrat, good luck. She's finally getting some sleep and I doubt she'll be waking up anytime soon."

"I actually came to speak with you," Rafael admitted, reasonably surprising her since they hardly crossed words.

"Me? What for?"

"About Montserrat. Are you sure she's asleep?"

Kara nodded and motioned him to come in. "She hasn't slept in days. Trust me. She didn't wake up with Juliana's screams, so...we're good."

"Good," Rafael drew in a breath, letting Kara notice that he was nervous. That was novelty.

"What's going on?" she finally asked.

Rafael decided to just come out with it. He always blurted things out anyways. "Sonny told me that Montserrat was having trouble collecting the last of the bail money for Gael."

Kara sighed. "Yeah. She's going crazy."

"Alright, well...I want to help her with it. But I also know that…"

"Montserrat's too damn proud to take money from any of us?" Kara smiled sarcastically. "Yeah. I know her oh-so-well. And because I know her that well, I know that she won't take any money from you." Especially you, she thought.

"I know," sighed Rafael. He thought about it long and hard all day until he came up with an idea that could would work. "Which is why I'm giving you the money."

"Me!?" Kara blinked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, because she'll take the money if she thinks it's coming from you."

"No, that won't work," Kara shook her head. "I tried giving her 2 grand and she rejected it."

"Because she thought it was money that usually goes into your business. So just tell her that it's from somewhere else."

"I don't know…" Kara didn't feel right lying to Montserrat, but she also knew that maybe she'd be the only one who could actually get Montserrat to accept money from him.

Rafael reached for something inside his coat's pocket and pulled out an envelope. "It's the 5 grand."

"You walked the streets with 5 grand in your pocket!?" Kara exclaimed.

Rafael rolled his eyes. "Focus please. Take the money and make Montserrat use it."

"But she'll think it's from me and...that won't be right."

"That's the point. She'll never take money from me and I really want to help her, so…" Rafael motioned Kara to take the envelope.

Kara studied his face and realized, very quickly, that there was a desperate urge to help. She could identify with that because if Sonny was in dire need of money, she would want to help him by any means possible...and she would do whatever it took to help him. For that, she accepted the envelope. "I'll make sure she takes it," she promised for his concern.

There was an instant relief in Rafael's face. "Thank you. Really."

"You're welcome," Kara went to leave the envelope on the coffee table. She wanted to hand it to Montserrat first thing when the latter woke up.

"Thanks," Rafael headed for the door since he'd finished business, but at the last moment he turned back. "How...is she? For real?"

Kara could appreciate his attempt to be casual and discreet, but his feelings were visible from a mile away no matter what he did. "She's….she could be better. Her brother's being falsely accused of murder, so...you can understand that...it's difficult."

Rafael nodded silently.

"But I know that your help will definitely do her some good," Kara added in hopes of helping him as well.

"Wish I could do more," he blurted.

"You could," Kara wasn't afraid, like most people, to say things how they were. "But that's all up to you."

Rafael pointed at her as if he was going to say something, but in the end he opened the door and left.

"Nobody escapes Kara Mackie," Kara proudly said.

~ 0 ~

It was evening when Montserrat finally woke up, but even when she did she still felt rather tired. She emerged from Kara's bedroom to a quiet apartment. Kara was busy watching television but quickly paused the screen when she saw Montserrat.

"Hey!" she swallowed down the last of her popcorn before sitting up.

"Ivana isn't here, is she?" Montserrat assumed first. A four year old would never be this quiet.

"Uh, no. Your dad's keeping her tonight."

"And Juliana?"

Kara bit her lower lip. Yeah, she'd been debating how to go about that part. "Umm...she's...sort of...out…"

"Out?" Montserrat picked her phone from her back pocket and saw the time. "It's seven o'clock. Wait, she's not supposed to be out! She's grounded."

"Yeah that...sort of didn't take," Kara apologized with a small smile before bursting into a fit of rambles. "I'm so sorry! I tried to stop her but I really forgot what it's like being a teenager! She didn't listen - she was so mad!"

"Kara, it's alright," Montserrat sighed and sat down next to her. "I know Juliana's sort of...in a funk right now."

"But don't worry, I got your friend - Claire Wilson? She's with Juliana and she's keeping me updated in case they get into trouble."

"Well thanks," Montserrat leaned back against the couch. "But it still leaves so many other problems." She rubbed her hands over her face and groaned. Maybe she should just go back to sleep.

"Listen," Kara grabbed the remote control again and shut the television off, "I was...doing some digging through my own finances and…"

"Oh, Kara, no…" Montserrat presumed where her friend was headed. She watched Kara reach for an envelope on the table.

"I got the money, Montse," Kara put on her best smile, a hopeful one at that. "All $5000 of it. It's right here." She held the envelope to Montserrat but, as expected, Montserrat wouldn't take it.

"I can't do that. Where'd you even get the money from, you didn't have it before."

"I, uh, dug for it," shrugged Kara. She pushed the envelope to Montserrat's chest, but the ginger shook her head.

"Absolutely not. I can't take it."

"Oh!" Kara groaned. "And why not? You took it from Damian-"

"-because he's Gael's friend! You're my best friend and I know that you need this money!"

"Trust me, I really don't," Kara waved the envelope in front of Montserrat's face. "What I need is for you to take it."

"I can't do it, I'm sorry."

"Montserrat, stop being stupid. You need it - Gael needs it!"

"Gael needs me to figure it out," snapped Montserrat. "He doesn't need me taking money from other people."

"I'm not 'people', I'm family. And you know what? It's not even the reason you should take the money. You should take it because…" Kara licked her lips nervously, "...because the person who came up with this money really wants to help you." Her voice softened when she added, "He really does."

Of course that earned Kara a puzzled look from Montserrat. "What?" the ginger asked.

Kara sighed. "He's going to kill me," she concluded in a whisper, but she figured if she was killed because she tried helping her best friend it would be a worthy death.

"What the hell?" Montserrat wearily said as she dreaded what Kara was up to.

Kara drew in a deep breath as she shifted to face Montserrat. "Okay, so, that money...I'm not supposed to say, but...it's not mine."

"What, did you steal it?"

"No, Sonny would kill me, first of all. Someone gave me that money-"

"-Kara, please tell me that's not dirty money."

"Oh my God, would you just let me talk!?"

Montserrat pursed her lips together then motioned Kara to go on. "Look, I'm telling you this because I think it's only fair that you recognize the intent. I didn't come up with the money - hell, it's not even my money. Rafael stopped by this afternoon."

"...don't tell me," Montserrat narrowed her eyes on Kara, almost making the latter gulp on the spot.

"He wanted to give you the money himself but he knew you wouldn't take it-"

"-damn right I wouldn't!" Montserrat practically threw the envelope to Kara's face. "How could you accept that money!?"

"Uh, because you need it? And because Rafael was pretty insistent that you take it."

"Rule number 1 when it comes to Rafael: never listen to him!"

"I can see where most of your problems come from."

"It's not funny, Kara!" Montserrat was furious. She jumped from her seat and turned to glare at Kara. "I would never take money from him. So I'm going to give that back to him right now!"

"No you are not!" Kara hugged the envelope to her chest.

"Yes, I am!"

"Give me one good reason why you shouldn't take the money?"

"Because...because…" Montserrat shifted on her feet, the frustration getting to her as she came up with no good answer.

"Aha," Kara tilted her head. "See? You should take the money and use it to get Gael out of that hellhole."

"But I can't!" Montserrat threw her hands in the air. "It doesn't feel right!"

Kara shook her head. "Montserrat, quit being so proud and just accept the help." She patted the open spot next to her and called it a win when Montserrat actually sat down again. "Don't be stupid and please don't be proud. Rafael came with the most honest intentions and he specifically asked me not to say anything. He didn't want you to know that the money was from him."

"Well you sure screwed that up, huh?" Montserrat gently jabbed Kara on her side.

"Yeeeeah. Please keep me safe, he scares me a bit."

Montserrat laughed. "Oh c'mon."

"No, I'm serious! He's nice and all but he's scary," Kara's face only made Montserrat laugh harder. "I don't know how you do it."

"Cos he's not scary," Montserrat sobered slowly despite hearing Kara's continuous accusations of the opposite.

"Alright, so...will you take the money?"

Montserrat looked down at the envelope between them, looking unsure. "I don't...I don't know. I feel like I should just return it."

"Montse, I know I tease you and all but, being serious...he really did look worried and he was just doing what he thought was best. And he asked about you - how you were doing? C'mon," Kara now bumped shoulders with Montserrat. "Don't tell me it doesn't make your heart beat just an itty-bitty-" Kara raised her hand with an index finger just above her thumb to show the amount, "-tiny bit faster?"

Montserrat shook her head but said nothing. She wasn't going to give Kara any reason to actually tease again. "I'm over it. I'm over him. I said that a long time ago-"

"Regardless, before you take that money back...just think about it for a bit. Maybe just...consider it." Kara gave Montserrat a quick side-hug before getting up to leave.

Montserrat brought a hand to her curls as she once again looked down at the envelope. It was so stupid. There laid the solution to one of her problems and she was being too proud to take it. "Goddammit," she sighed and got up from the couch.

~ 0 ~

"Sonny?"

The last thing the detective in question thought he'd see in the D.A's building was his partner who was meant to be taking a leave from SVU. Sonny turned back in the hallway to see Montserrat coming into the building in a rush. She was bundled up in a beige-colored coat.

"Montserrat what are you doing here?" Sonny checked his watch for the time and raised his eyebrows when he realized it was a bit late for her. "It's ten o'clock."

Montserrat shrugged but her pursed lips and a gaze that couldn't seem to look him in the eyes indicated something else was at play. "I just...needed to talk to someone."

"Casey?" Sonny jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"No, well, no…" Montserrat sighed. She would have to be a little more truthful. "I need to speak with Rafael. Is that where you were headed?"

"Yeah, uh, Liv's got me on a case and…" Sonny got the feeling she wasn't really paying attention to him. Her eyes kept flickering in the direction of Rafael's office. "Montse? Are you okay?"

Montserrat licked her lips and exhaled. "Look, Sonny, can you just give me like...5 minutes with Rafael? And then you can go in and talk about your case."

"O...kay…" Sonny looked her over and noticed she was a bit shifty. "Are you sure you're okay? Did something happen? Is there anything I can do to help you-"

Montserrat raised a hand to stop him talking. "Just give me those 5 minutes I'm asking for and we're good."

"Al-alright, go ahead," Sonny stepped aside and gestured for her to go. She gave him a grateful smile and went on her way.

In his office, Rafael was doing what he normally did each night. On one side he had the usual stack of papers and on the other side, he had the trusty glass of alcohol. He heard a noise - footsteps - outside but before he even thought of looking up, they spoke up.

"You paid my brother's bail money."

Rafael shut his eyes as if hoping this was just a hallucination. Maybe he'd finally had too much to drink. But when he opened his eyes and looked up, he saw Montserrat by the door. "Dammit," he muttered. He put his pen down and stood up. "I honestly thought Kara might manage to keep it a secret," he admitted as he moved around the desk. He had to make a compelling argument now before she killed him. Luckily, this was what he did for a living. "I know you're mad but I know you needed the money. And before you throw it at my face-"

Montserrat rolled her eyes and strode up to hug him, surprising the hell out of him. He was frozen in his spot, arms to his sides as he debated if this was real or not. Montserrat couldn't care less how he reacted or how she should react. She'd thought long and hard about what she'd say or do when she saw him and this was the only thing she felt was right. So, that's why she wrapped her arms around his neck and let that need finally be quenched.

"I'm...very confused here." It pained Rafael to admit it but he just couldn't understand why she was hugging him and not screaming at him.

Montserrat pulled away but never let go of him. "I can't be mad at you. Not when you gave away $5000 from your own pocket."

"...so you're keeping the money?"

"Well, I did think about giving it back to you but...I need to swallow my pride and use it to get Gael out. But I am going to pay you back, every last cent."

Rafael rolled his eyes at her. "Don't worry about that-"

"-but I am because it's the only way I'll truly feel okay with this."

There was no way he was going to get through to her but he didn't want to argue with her. He gave in with a nod and it definitely got a smile from her.

"Thank you so much," she said and hugged him again.

This time, he hugged her back. He held her tight as if she were going to disappear in the next second. He never really noticed how easily she seemed to fit between his arms; like she belonged right there with him.

Every time, he thought. Every time he had Montserrat that close to him he remembered how much he needed her with him. All those previous thoughts that they couldn't be that close were dismissed, forgotten, pushed away. He couldn't be that careless, not when it came to her.

Montserrat pulled away only slightly. She seemed more nervous than before, her eyes even seemed like they were struggling to look up at him. "Hey, um...I know what you said before...I know that we agreed…" she couldn't find the right words to express her feelings, no matter how much she tried. Screw it.

She kissed him. And there went his caution...again. His arms instinctively tightened around her waist, keeping her firmly pressed against him. She had the sweetest lips - even though they often threw some insults at him - and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her forever.

But he needed to remember what he was trying to do for her. He was only able to regain some type of control when he pulled away. "Montse, we can't," he whispered, but the mere fact he'd said a nickname he hardly every used was proof enough that he wasn't entirely convinced with his words. Because he really wasn't.

"Please don't say that again," she begged. She had her eyes closed and maybe it was for the better. She could feel his nose nuzzling her cheek. "I told myself before deciding to come here that I was over you and everything, but...I'm not. I'm really, really not. And I dare say that you aren't either...right?"

Rafael drew away to look in her shiny brown eyes. He tilted his head slightly, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I never said that I was."

~ 0 ~

Out in the hallway, Sonny stayed behind just like Montserrat had asked him to. He was checking his phone for an update from Liv when he heard footsteps nearing him. He looked up to see a familiar woman coming. It took two seconds flat to recognize Yelina.

Oh crap. For some reason, Sonny didn't want to let her in...or at the very least, he thought she shouldn't go into Rafael's office until Montserrat gave him the 'ok'.

"H-hi!" he practically jumped in front of Yelina without a clue of what he was going to say or do.

"Hello?" she gave him an odd, yet reasonable, look. "Do I know you?"

"Um...I'm...a friend…" Sonny said, pretty much making it up as he went along.

"Not my friend," Yelina was quick to say. "And I'm sorry but I have somewhere I need to get to." She tried moving around but Sonny quickly followed in suit to block her way.

"I'm sorry ma'am but Mr. Barba's a bit busy right now!"

Yelina tilted her head at him. "How do you know I'm here to see Rafael?"

You didn't think this through, Sonny inwardly sighed.

~ 0 ~

"It's hard, Montserrat but it's the truth. It's better if we don't do anything. I'm not good," Rafael wanted to sound as convincing as possible but he wasn't doing it right. He could've started by letting Montserrat go but his arms seemed to be on another plan.

"You say all these things like you're no good for me or that I may crash down because of you but guess what?" Montserrat's eyes became even more tearful, some of them threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. "I'm not with you and I'm still crashing. There's no one to help me pick up the pieces."

Rafael's heart broke at her frail voice. She wasn't falling apart, but she certainly wasn't in her best state.

~ 0 ~

"Ah, so you were one of the detectives who helped put my husband on trial," Yelina's face went sour as she finally recognized Sonny. "That's nice, but...I need to go see my friend."

Once more, Sonny took the same step with her. He held his hands up just as she was becoming irritated with him. "I'm really sorry but he's with someone important right now."

Yelina raised an eyebrow at him. She had a sharp look that gave Sonny chills. "Business?" she asked.

"Uuh…not...really." Truth was that Sonny wasn't sure what was the nature of Montserrat's visit but whatever the answer was, he was sure it wouldn't please Yelina.

"Well, business or not Rafael has some explaining to do," Yelina straightened up, expression more fierce than ever. "Thinks he can blow me off without repercussions? I don't think so." She moved around Sonny and threatened him with a glare not to try getting in her way.

"Dammit," the detective muttered with a hand on his forehead. He quickly pulled out his phone but he wasn't sure who to text: Montserrat or Rafael?

~ 0 ~

"Montserrat, I'm only trying to do what's best for you," Rafael insisted but she humorlessly laughed.

"Do I look okay to you? I'm not. And I thought, that maybe - just maybe - we could finally work something out," Montserrat let go of him but she stayed as close to him as they were when they hugged. "I'm tired of pretending, tired of denying things...aren't you?"

Rafael would love to say 'yes' but that would go against the point he was trying to make. "I do care for you. It's just…"

Montserrat gently put her hands on both sides of his face. "No more long speeches, just tell me the truth."

"Truth?"

"The truth about why you don't want to be with me. Because all these speeches just sound...like speeches. Like something you rehearse for your job. I'm not a jury you have to convince. I just want you to be honest here."

"You want honesty? Fine," Rafael sighed. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep lying to himself and much less Montserrat. The truth was right in the fact that she made him lose control with just one kiss. He had his thoughts organized when it came to this subject. He had plans to keep himself away from Montserrat but then she comes right in and makes those thoughts and ideas disappear. There was no point in trying to build plans when it didn't matter in the end. He would just have to face it, face her. She got him.

"Not business," they heard from the doorway. Yelina looked a bit...fascinated by what she saw. "Definitely not."

Montserrat withdrew her hands. The expression on her face indicated an expectancy of answers because Yelina's presence made zero sense to her.

"Well, I can assume this is why you rudely left lunch early on Monday."

"Monday…?" Montserrat repeated just before it hit her. "Gael's arraignment." She laid eyes on Rafael again with a growing anger. "You were late." He was supposed to be on time, to be there with her when Gael was taken out for arraignment...and he'd almost missed it. Because he was having lunch with her.

"Yes, but I…" He really didn't have a good explanation for that one since Yelina basically beat him to it. But she said it all wrong and now he was screwed.

Montserrat exhaled as the weight of regret began hitting her. She stepped away from him. "I get it now."

"I don't think you do," Rafael said, sounding almost afraid of the conclusion she'd come to. He tried reaching for her arm but she yanked it away.

"There's the truth," she spat.

"It's not that, I swear-" he made the mistake of attempting to touch her again.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed and pushed his hands away from her. The humorless laugh that came next did not bode well. "And here I thought…" she laughed again then shook her head. "Forget it. I get it now. So sorry-" she gestured to both Rafael and Yelina, "-I got in the way. You won't have to worry about me again."

"Montserrat," Rafael called but she was storming out before he could even finish her name. There he went again screwing things up.

~ 0 ~

Sonny caught Montserrat coming out into the hallway a sprint, almost running really. "Montse! Hey!" he barely caught her arm but even then she wrestled to get free from his hands. "Montserrat, it's me!"

"I know! Let me go!"

Sonny only did so because he didn't want her yelling in the middle of the hallway. "Montserrat, what's happened?" She was in tears and he could only assume why. "Hey," his voice softened, "It's because of that woman, huh? I'm sorry. I tried to stop her-"

Montserrat laughed through her tears. "Sonny, you are the least person at fault here. This whole thing is just a mess - it was a mess from the start and you know what? I am so tired of it."

"Montse…"

"And I know that I've said this many times before but this time I really mean it: I hate—" Montserrat's voice truly snapped while she pointed at nothing in particular, "—Rafael so much. I wish I never met him."

"Montserrat, I don't think you mean it—"

"Try me, Dominick!" she frantically snapped. Her hands reached behind her neck and in two seconds she had taken off the ballerina necklace Rafael gave her and chucked it at Sonny. With such speed she used, he scrambled to catch it before it would hit his face. "I mean it with every fiber of my being. I hate him!" she turned away and left in a storm.

Sonny sighed deeply. He felt like he should at least drive her home or make sure she got home safely in whatever she came in...but he wasn't stupid to believe that she would let him or anyone else near her right now. So, that just left the other side of the party.

~ 0 ~

"So I guess now I know why you cut lunch short," Yelina made it in three steps before Rafael ordered her to leave.

"You and I are done," he spat and pointed at the open door.

"I didn't do this," Yelina said what she assumed he was thinking. "You did. You always had a tendency to know better and it always backfired."

"Get out!" he shouted at her. "I don't understand what the hell you wanted from me since the beginning! And frankly, if I was even a little bit curious now I'm not! Because you just cost me the one good thing I had in my life!"

"It didn't look like that to me," Yelina cautiously approached the desk Rafael was retreating behind. "She was already upset before I walked in. I was just the tip of the iceberg."

Rafael rubbed his face in exasperation then slammed them down on the desk. "What—" his voice had sharpened, "—do you want from me? Just tell me so you can finally leave me the hell alone. What is it? Money? A hand in Alex's trial? A job? Just tell me!"

But to his mighty frustration, Yelina said nothing. She only tilted her head and studied him. His darkened expression, his narrowed eyes, his heavy breathing. He was outright furious, perhaps the most furious she'd ever seen him...and she'd known him for a very long time. "Oh my God, that detective's responsible for this?" she pointed him up and down. "That tiny thing has got you...so wrapped around her finger."

Rafael gripped the edges of his desk because otherwise, he might have actually thrown her out of the office.

With a sigh, Yelina leaned forwards on the desk but the mere action made him straighten away from the desk. "Truthfully, I don't want anything. I didn't mean to cause you harm. In fact...up until last week, I had no intention of seeing you. I thought I had made a fool out of myself plenty the last time we saw each other. I certainly had no intention of causing this...problem with that woman. She seemed nice the last time I met her. Not quite your taste but that's beside the point."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The truth is, Rafael, you need to watch your back...as does that detective." Yelina looked around as if someone were going to eavesdrop on them. "Someone paid me good money to come see you. Don't ask me who, because I don't know. I just got a request with the promise of a decent amount that could help me and my girls get the hell out of this city."

"What do you...what do you mean? Are you joking?"

"No," Yelina shook her head. "Why else do you think I had no answer when you asked me what I wanted from you? I mean, yes, it was nice to see you but...I had no face to ask anything from you. Someone wanted me to come and see you, make sure to cause some problems with you and Detective Novak."

Rafael wanted to call her a liar, but if there was something about her was that she was no liar. And she didn't appear to be one right now. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because...I was not a good person to you, during the investigation and before...I blamed you for many things when the truth was I had a fair share of the fault. You and I...we didn't work. We just didn't. I wanted more. But I gambled and lost with Alex and now I have no right to take that chance away from you nor Detective Novak. I'm really sorry. And if you want, I could try to talk with her—"

"You will stay away from her," Rafael warned, leaving no room for arguments. "I don't want you near Montserrat, do you understand? If everything you just said is true—"

"It is—"

"Then you need to leave. Leave me alone, leave Montserrat alone and just go. I don't want to see you again."

"That's fair," Yelina nodded her head. "But I am taking the money because I need it. My girls need it."

"Sure," Rafael couldn't care less. He didn't wish her any harm but he certainly didn't care what happened in her life.

"Goodbye Rafael. Take care," she said then turned to leave. Only a few seconds after she was gone, Rafael received a visit from Sonny.

"Goddammit," he muttered. What more could this night throw him?

"Yeah, I know, not a place I expected to be," Sonny sighed. "I just came for the warrants you promised Liv. I didn't expect to be right at the center of all...this…"

"I will send them, get out," Rafael returned to his seat.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything. I have a lot of work to do so please get out." And maybe a lot of drinking too. Who knew.

Sonny drew in a deep breath, mumbling an 'oh boy' before he started off with what could either be his death sentence or the solution to Rafael's problems. "Listen, I'm not speaking to you as a co-worker, I am going to speak to you as a friend because right now you need one. What the hell are you doing, Rafael?"

Rafael could honestly say that he had no idea. "It wasn't like I planned it," he said as a means of defense.

"No, because that would be incredibly stupid," Sonny's flat tone wasn't appreciated in the least. "Can I just ask, in all seriousness...why?" Rafael gave him a confused look. "Help me understand because as much as we both hate it, the reality is I know everything. Literally. Why make all this trouble if you actually do like Montserrat? I don't get it."

Well it was bad enough Sonny knew everything, but now Rafael would have to explain himself? Again? He rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing this, Carisi. You can go."

"No," the detective flatly refused. "Because each time you screw up more than the last time and you should know that this time...you royally screwed up. Montserrat despises you."

"I didn't plan this - I actually had a very different plan in mind...but Yelina cut me off. She has terrible timing. And now Montserrat hates me."

"Yeah she does."

Rafael paused to glare at Sonny. "Aren't you supposed to be helping here or did I misread the conversation?"

Sonny rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. Truth is, if Kara told me she hated me I'd lose my mind. I need her just as I'm sure you need Montserrat."

"Let's not go confusing things." This time, Rafael's arguments wouldn't win against the detective.

"I'm not. Because it's not a question of 'want' anymore, you have a 'need'."

"What?"

Sonny took a seat down as he began to explain. "Look, I don't 'want' to see Kara. I need to see Kara. Every day. I don't want to spend time with her, I need to. It's a need that I can't push away because...because I love Kara. The 'want' fades away fairly quick but the 'need'...that doesn't go away. That's what you have with Montserrat now. You need her."

Rafael didn't like that Sonny actually thought he knew what he wanted - needed. It was ridiculous...wasn't it? She makes you throw your plans away, he reminded himself. You have no control when she's around.

Sonny watched the internal struggle for a few minutes before he took pity and further explained. "You remember those times where you asked me to find Montserrat? Because you wanted to see her? Well, you didn't want to see her. You needed to see her. You needed to make sure she was okay. And right now, do you want to see Montserrat? Or do you need to go and make sure she's alright?"

Well, the answer was evident, wasn't it?

"And listen, I wasn't going to say anything because it's, well, childish but...you should know that you're not the only one who has eyes on Montserrat."

Now that piece of information was surprising. Rafael tilted his head, for a second almost accusing Sonny.

"Don't get any ideas, councilor. I meant someone else. Uh, Damian." Sonny knew that alone was shocking but it did feel good to finally tell someone the secret that'd been gnawing at his mind.

"What?" frowned Rafael. "He wouldn't—"

"-oh but he would. You know that Kate Spade watch Montserrat proudly wears? Damian got it for her. He knows that's her favorite store. He likes her and if you continue to act like this, you're going to push her straight to him. Is that what you want? Is it really what you want?"

"Well of course not," Rafael found himself blurting. He shifted in his seat after realizing how fast that'd come out. "I already told you that I did plan on telling her. I was seconds away when Yelina made her...presence known."

"Well that's good," Sonny nodded. "Because we have a lot of work to do here." He reached for something in his pocket then put it down on the desk, revealing the ballerina necklace Montserrat had practically thrown at him. "If there's one thing I've figured out about women is that you can't outsmart them. But maybe two of us can and we can get you five minutes with her. Your fast mouth might just save you."

Rafael smiles for the first time. "With any luck."

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #fd: svu #svu fics #rafael barba fics #rafael barba imagines #svu imagines #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me

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icarusthelunarguard · 2 years

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This Week’s Horrible-Scopes

Sorry I'm a little late this week. The day just got away from me.

Aries

Life is all about risk, so go out and take some. Walk under a ladder, break a mirror, and eat some pineapple. Yes, eating pineapple is risky. There is a small segment of the population that is allergic to it. Are you sure you’re not? Be a hell of a week to find out.

Taurus

It’s November, meaning it’s time to bring in your plants from off the porch. But only the small ones. The big ones can be grown from new seeds next season. But those cherry tomato and garlic plants can sit in a window and keep growing. Add oregano plants and you’ll be making homemade spaghetti dinner soon.

Gemini

Playing table-top dungeon crawler games was all well and good, until your DM started looking up creative traps. Gelatin desserts are really incapacitated baby slimes, round doorways are actually filled with a silent, rapidly-spinning fan that’ll slice-and-dice anyone that walks up to it, and stairs that have brake-away steps that let the foot drop into a spike trap. Remember: G.M.’s aren’t out to kill your characters, the dice are! So bring your own!

Cancer Moon-Child

Looks like your time in jail for that shock dart won’t be that bad. You’ve got lots of time to draw up new designs for NERF gun modifications, and you gained a nickname: “Angus”. The question is what are you going to do with all those rubber bands and chewing gum you’re being given?

Leo

Homemade sushi takes some practice, a rice cooker, and the desire to eat what you make. An “Ahi Maki Roll” (ah-HEE, mah-KEE) with tuna sounds great, but not if it’s made with Chicken of the Sea. Yes, using actual raw tuna is expensive, but that’ll just encourage you to learn quicker.

Virgo

Your Halloween costume wasn’t bad, it just showed the ages of the people trying to figure who you were. One age bracket called you “Blitzo”, another one said you were “HIM!”. You want to stay away from the house that said you were “Naked Hellboy” next year.

Libra

You want to start your Christmas gift buying now? Really? Fine! Here’s a suggestion for something most people won’t already have: The International Flag of the Planet Earth. Yes, it’s totally a real thing! Why get a political flag, like the Klingon Empire’s, when you could get all your friends a statement of true unity?

Scorpio

There is an old saying: never look a gift horse in the mouth. To that end there’s no reason you should be worried about containers of Fancy Feast cat food showing up at your door overnight. Your cat loves it. What’s wrong with this picture?

Sagittarius

Bribing that cat with food is only going to last so long. You need to find a way of keeping her quiet permanently. Go study case law regarding testimony of animals in murder trials. Based on that, maybe just don’t do anything. Bribery might be your ally.

Capricorn

Now is not the time to go swimming in Lake Erie. The water is about 16c (AKA 60 Freedom Heat Units), so it would be painful to jump into. But now might be a good time to start practicing for the annual Polar Bear Plunge. If nothing else it’ll help your body start burning off all those lock-down calories you’ve gained. Or just turn on the cold water in your tub. It’ll be safer that way.

Aquarius

It’s time to put that spare pumpkin to good use at your next party. Open the top and scoop out the innards like you would to make a jack o’ lantern. Next make two full pots of coffee, pour those into the pumpkin and season with cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, cloves, and ginger. Your Pumpkin Spiced Pumpkin is now ready to serve anyone crazy enough to drink coffee out of a gourd!

Pisces

You bribed, we heard. According to the new Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition Zodiac Signs list you are a “Wizard”! Congratulations! Don’t bother trying to decide on a wand versus a staff for casting yet. Unless you can catch an owl on your own, it won’t matter. You’re not fooling anyone by cutting an apple in half and claiming it’s a shy barn owl.

#weekly horoscope #parody #funny #humor #horoscope

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mrsmaybank · 4 years

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Midsummers But JJ x Reader -Everything

Content: Angst, Then Fluff, Then Smut, Then Fluff again. Kook!Reader

Summary: Misummers episode but make it JJ x Reader.

T/W: Violence, Smut, Language, (Sexy) Use of the word slut, ignorant family

A/N: This is so fucking long (I’m sorry) but I like it! It’s a rollercoaster of emotions and its pretty packed. That being said, ty for reading at all lol.

“Mom how could you even say that?” You gulped back tears and looked at your mother in both hurt and disgust. How could she be so insensitive, so cruel, and so nonchalant about the somebody you cared about so much.

“I didn’t like you hanging out with those marina rats in the first place! It won’t be the last time one of your gross friends ends up in a jail cell. That boy is just like his father, a dirty degenerate.”

“Don’t say that!” you spat out at her, tears burning your eyes, “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

She slapped your face hard, you felt your cheek burn and blood start to pour out of the little skin breaks. You knew that it was wrong to word it like that, but you couldn’t contain it. JJ was the love of your life. And he was nothing like his father.

“Watch your damn mouth girl. Get dressed, look pretty, and smile. If you could stop being selfish for one minute, you can enjoy tonight. It’s very important to your family.” she rushed out and slammed the door.

Midsummers was not your thing obviously, but you usually didn’t mind it. Kie was there, and Pope too, and a couple hours in, you and Kie would sneak off to the Chateau to smoke with JJ and John B, your parents too busy drinking with their obnoxious friends to notice. You’d text them later, Went to Kie’s. The only friend they approved of, solely because she was “A good girl, just confused about her place in society” just like you. Your parents were judgmental and snobby and it disgusted you. They really thought they were better than your friends because they had money. Your mother especially, and she grew up on The Cut. It makes you want to vomit. You sat down at your vanity looking in the mirror and all the nice things around you. You started to sob, five miles from here, there were people with no power or water, working harder than you ever would have to, just to feed their families. And another couple miles away, was your boyfriend, and best friend, a boy who would die to protect you, walk through fire to make you happy, and took anything that came at him, was in a jail cell, taking the blame to protect another one of your friends' future. And here you were, in your million dollar home, in your beautiful room, getting ready to go to a fancy party with fancy people.

“Fuck.” You wiped your tears. Your heart beats hard in anxiety. JJ had the survival instincts of a cockroach as Kie would say, he had a way with words and could talk his way out of tricky situations. That wasn’t what you were distressed about. You were ridden with fear about what his dad was gonna do to him. You started to hyperventilate. You felt disgusted by your privilege, disgusted with your family, and disgusted by everything around you. But there was nothing you could do.

You’d spend the night nodding courtley in your white dress, faking a smile and politely introducing yourself to random rich people.

“Why do you still look like that?” Your mother bursted into your room once again. “Get ready right now, or I swear to god, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

You nodded and started to put make-up on and slipped on the white silk dress your mother bought for you. It was long and tight at the top, clinging to your body perfectly. As beautiful as you looked, your soul felt empty.

Your eyes were red with tears, and your lips were puffy, you looked in the mirror. You definitely looked like you had tried to cover up sobbing, but you didn’t really care. You remembered a moment before you and JJ had even started dating.

You and JJ were watching the sunrise on the beach, you on one of your runaway episodes, trying to escape the tight grip of your mother. You both knew you police were searching for you everywhere, and that as soon as you were inevitably found, you’d be in a heap of trouble, but somehow on that beach, in that moment there was nothing that mattered except the sound of the waves and the company of each other.

JJ asked you a simple question, “How do you feel?”

Your response was genuine, “I don’t know. Everything is wrong. Things aren’t okay at all, and yet somehow, I feel alright.” You looked at him with a smile, his blonde hair sparkling in the sunrise’s glow. You put your head on his lap and looked up at him. “It’s ‘cause of you J. You make me feel like everythings alright.” Tears started to stream down your face, “You’ve treated me with more kindness then anybody I’ve ever met.”

He wiped your tears and just nodded, happy to hear that he made you feel like that. “Always.” he said.

“I must look so stupid,” you said trying to clean your face.

“No.” he said. “You look so pretty, even when you cry.”

You got in the car, your mother lecturing you on what was expected of you tonight. “Be who you are. A well brought up girl, with a beautiful smile, and manners, and etiquette. You are not the pogue delinquent filth you glamorize.”

Your older sister added “Now that you actually look like you belong in this family, try acting like it.” she said with a fake smile. Your brother just snickered and your father nodded in agreement.

You tuned them out, knowing if you listened you wouldn’t be able to control your mouth and would wind up with another dull bruise on the side of your cheek.

Finally you had arrived, and your family practically fled from your side instantly. You’d think mom would have me on a fucking leash after that. You thought. But no, as much as your mother yelled at you about what you should be, and how you should act, nothing was more important to her than climbing up the social ladder and socializing with the Outer Banks bourgeois.

Your sister and brother sat down with their Kook friends, making sure you knew that you didn’t belong, and they certainly didn’t want you anywhere near them. They act like I want to sit with them.

You spotted Kie and Pope by Heywards oyster table.

“You look gorgeous.” Kie said, You smiled and thanked her.

“Not as gorgeous as you.” You tried to return the compliment, but it came out gloomy and monotone.

“What’s wrong?” Pope asked.

“JJ.” your voice cracked and tears swelled at the thought of his current state.

“The last thing JJ would want you to do, especially while you’re dressed like that, is worry about him.” your friends reassured you.

The night went on, but your nerves were anything but calmed. Kie and Pope tried their best to try and cheer you up, but it was to no avail, and they themselves were worried about him too.

You sat on the stairs towards the back of the club, drawing circles in the sand. The dull throbbing of your head was starting to bother you. You got up towards the festivities, walking over to the bar to ask for a ginger ale that could maybe cure your dehydration.

You sipped slowly, other than the lingering sting of anxiety, your mind empty. That was until you heard a familiar voice.

“Mr Dunleavy! I see you got your drink, that's wonderful. I’m actually gonna down that.” It was none other than your boy, JJ, in a typical JJ situation, being escorted out by security.

“JJ!” you ran to him and he freed his arms from the securities hold to spin you around and kiss you on the lips. “My pretty princess.” You smiled. “This is my girlfriend.” JJ started to tell the guard, who just scoffed.

You’d never been so happy to see somebody in your life. Your smile faded when you noticed the bruises and cuts on his face, you started to say something, but the guard shoved him and kept moving.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” you started. “I’m a member of this club! And I.. I invited him!”

Your sister stepped in, “No she didn’t,” she tried to reassure the party goers watching.

JJ pushed the guard into a table and smiled at you, you instantly grabbed his hair pulling him into a passionate kiss. His hands went to your waist and he smiled into the kiss. “You look fucking amazing.”

You smiled and adjusted his tie, “Spiffy.” He jokingly gagged.

More of the crowd began to stare at the situation, and you saw your mother walking with the intentional enunciated walk ever, stomping her feet and flaring her nostrils. You pointed it out to JJ and you both laughed out loud. “Don’t move a muscle young lady!” she shouted at you.

JJ grabbed your hand and you both started running to the exit of the club porch. “Mandatory power hour at Rickson’s Kie!” he pointed with his free hand at her. “You too Pope!”

You quickly let go of JJ’s hand to grab Kie by the wrist, and he kept running. “Lets go!” You smiled excitedly.

You saw out of the corner of your eye Pope taking off his stuffy apron.

“Workers of the world unite! Throw off your chains!” You giggled at JJ’s antics, the rest of the party looking in horror.

Your mother was still doing her best to chase you while still maintaining her poise, and it just made you laugh more. You and Kie ran hand in hand, Pope by Kie’s side to JJ and John B across the field, you only let go when JJ pulled you into a hug spinning around, putting you on his back right after.

You both turned around to face the party, most of the guests turning their snobby noses up in disgust, and you both peaked Rafe at the same time.You flipped him off together and you saw your mother practically faint.

The rest of the night was insane. John B’s revelation and then him falling from a fucking tower and all. So many things happened, and your brain was having trouble processing. When JJ had finally gotten word that John B was going to be okay, the pair of you left the hospital and headed back to the Chateau.

You sighed and laid down in the bed that was now known as JJ’s, taking a hit of JJ's juul.

He took off his shirt, and laid down next to you, snuggling into your chest.

“Hey baby,” you put the juul in between his lips and he inhaled hard, as you played with his hair.

You tilted his jaw so you could get a good look at him, his precious face littered in bruises and cuts, and you knew why. His father.

“Jay-” tears started to stream down your cheeks. “It’s so selfish of me to cry I-”

“Hey,” he sat up to cup your face, “Hey. I’m fine. It’s nothin that hasn't happened before.”

Perusal, your boyfriend was trying to put on a strong face to keep you from worrying, but you knew him all too well. In the sense that he wasn’t okay, but also that he didn’t wanna talk about it, he just wanted you to tell him how much you love him.

“I love you baby. You’re my world. You know that right? You know how much I care about you?”

He nodded and pulled you into a kiss, “Yeah baby?” He slid his hand up your thigh and leaned in closer to your ear, “You know what my first thought was when I saw you in that dress?” You gasped as his hand worked up your leg to begin rubbing your clothed clit. Wetness pooled almost instantly. “I wanted to rip it off and fuck the shit out of you right there.” That sentence was enough to make your pussy throb, and you gasped as JJ pushed your panties to the side, dipping his two fingers into you.

“Oh baby, you’re so fucking wet.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and shoulder, biting down on his shirt to try and have some control over yourself.

“Nuh uh,” he tsked. “Wanna see your pretty face. And hear all your pretty sounds.” His free hand positioning your face so you were looking right into his eyes.

At that, you were a moaning mess. Right before your release, he quickly removed his fingers and showed you all of your stickiness in his hand, dripping to his palm and down to his wrists.

With one hand, he grabbed your throat, the coldness of his rings sending shivers down your spine. The other pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth, and you began sucking hard, closing your eyes and pretending it was his cock.

“Oh my god. You’re such a good girl baby.”

You heard him sliding his shorts down, quickly letting go of you to lie you flat so he was hovering over your body.

He started pressing wet kisses on your neck, sucking hard to give you purple marks, so everybody knew you were his. “Your mine, you know that?”

You nodded and shimmied your shirt off. “You know exactly what I want huh baby?”

He massaged your boobs gently, worshipping your body.

“JJ. Fuck me already.”

“So needy.”

He placed his hard cock right in front of your entrance, sliding up and down before slamming into you with no warning.

“Oh fuck!” you screamed at the pressure of his dick against your walls. You could feel every vein and ridge, every throb.

“Be a good fucking girl and take it.” He said in between grunts.

You felt your clit rub against his skin every time he was fully inside. He grabbed your waist so every time he bottomed out he could slam back into you even harder.

He kept saying the most insane things in your ear, each word bringing you closer to coming.

“Good fucking girl.”

“Let me hear how good I'm making you feel baby.”

“You take it so well baby.”

“Such a good little slut for me.”

“Fuck” he moaned slamming into you, impossibly harder. You clenched around him as he buried his dick into you.Thrusting without bottoming out, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. Your walls began to converge, as JJ said, “Cum for me baby. Yeah, baby-“ he grunted loudly as you came on him, his sticky load began shooting into you, drenching your walls.

“Jesus christ.” he said panting, flopping down next to you. “I love you.”

“I love you too JJ.” You cuddled up to his chest, “More than anything.”

He placed a quick kiss on your forehead and you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Again, very sorry this was so long and if it sucked.

#jj #jj outer banks #jjobx #obxjj #jjxreader #jjfanfic #outerbanks #obx #jjangst #jjfluff #jjsmut #jjobxangst #jjimagine #jjobximagine #jj maybank #jjmaybankxreader #jjmaybankobx

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dudes107-the-ijw · 3 years

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@lily-orchard and her fans/girlfriends are abusive sociopaths and here’s why

Now, I’m sure you’ve all heard of the capitol storming, and after watching videos of the storming and reading into both sides... I have no real opinion(I know what you’re gonna say. The pipe bombs and guns were overkill, but so were the Molotov Cocktails, stabbings, and shootings from the bad half of BLM. Luckily only 4 people got killed in the raid, which is an amazingly low number, but it’s still upsetting that they did die). Both sides have extremists, and America’s suffered worse(if you know anyone who survived 9/11, give ‘em a big hug, okay?). But A lot of people were rejoicing the fact that someone died during the raid, for the crime of being a Trump supporter, and trying to fight a barricade.

I first heard of this when I found out that Ginger was in support of this, Heavily. Quote “‘She Died.’ Good” Unquote. And Lily being Lily reblogged it for all to see. Being an egalitarian, I find this Extremely disgusting of them to do. Sympathy is Not required if you believe what they did was amoral, but you should Never feel genuine happiness about someone’s death because, they’re still human. Yet despite that, Ginger, and a whole bunch of Lily fans proved that they have no respect for anyone but themselves, and started dehumanizing me, saying my mere existence is a mistake

And in a subtle “You can’t see me, hehe” manor, Lily hopped in saying that it’s good if you die if you’re deemed a Nazi

And seeing as how I was labeled as alt right way back when, just because I’m an egalitarian who wants the best for both gays and straights, that says a Lot about Lily.

But the worst part of it is that Lily’s white knights are treating Me as a monster because I think Lily should be in jail, and put in solitary confinement for how she is.

So it’s fine for you guys to subtly tell me to Kill myself, but it’s not cool of me to say that she should be locked up? There’s even a point where Ginger got as Conspiracy theorist as the people who claim Lily isn’t Trans and she just full on accused me of being a minion of Josh, carrying out abuse.

A. They still haven’t let that go?!

B. I’m a fan of Josh, definitely, but I have No connection, so that could count as slandering us Both

C. Hooray, more misgendering me! Now I have cases from All 3 that they’re extremely hypocritical about their own beliefs! Guess only Trans lives who agree with them are valid huh?

My grudge against Lily didn’t just double, it quadrupled. As far as I can tell Lily, you deserve Every amount of flack, oh I’m sorry, “Abuse” that you get. Want my advice? Get out of your little self masturbation echo chamber, talk to real people, and not just sheep you coerce into parroting your views, learn to see from different perspectives, take a therapy class or two in basic human empathy, stop orbiting around teenage fans so you can act as a sex worker, and above all else, Grow Up!!!

#lily orchard #lily peet #jerry peet

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drivingsideways · 3 years

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Tell me the Truth About Love ‘verse headcanons, 10 years later, for @rain-hat

because she asked:

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

- Koo Seo Ryeong is now into her second term as PM. She’s also (re)married Yoon Hee Jae, and this time they’re making it work, because they are both CROCODILES WHO LIKE SWALLOWING THEIR ENEMIES WHOLE and also MAD FOR EACH OTHER. The latter is hard to tell because Yoon Hee-Jae regularly, regularly, writes op-eds in that jumped up conservative rag The Corean Herald dissing his wife’s govt and giving them grief about everything from the traffic jam at 7pm in downtown Seoul to Corea’s increasingly stringent environment protection standards that are killing the north, or are the only real citizens of the country the bleeding heart communists who’re tweeting for the revolution while wrapped in Hermes scarves, Madam Prime Minister?

- Hyeon-min and Jo Yeong have acquired (in this order):

(1) Cat, ginger and Very Tetchy who leaves dead rats exclusively on Yeong’s side of the bed.

(2) Dog, a golden eyed husky who went from growling at Koo Seo Ryeong (what a good boy) to gambolling at her feet in fifteen minutes (former good boy) while Yeong was in the kitchen (silently) fretting about whether hyung’s birthday cake was going to collapse and thereby hand Ms.Koo a victory that he might never be able to recover from.

(3) Another Cat, jet black and green eyed who only likes, in this order: Ginger the ginger , Socks the Husky, and His Majesty, Lee Gon. Hyeon-min is the one assigned to the cleaning up the dead doves on the doorstep the first six months, and Yeong barely even gets to see this one, to the point where he begins to think he’s maybe going through delayed PTSD thing that’s making itself known in form of these extended hallucinations, but no, Gon attests that it’s real and she’s wonderful, and so clever, look at her, Precious, Yeong, have you seen anything more adorable? (Yeong has. It’s his husband asleep and drooling on the couch every single weekend after staying up too late watching some goddamn baking show. He never bakes, why does he even watch? Who knows.)

(4) Two children. Se-hun (13) and So-hee (4) come to them via White Lily, bruised in ways that make Kang Hyeon-min’s lips press together in a thin line as he tells Yeong about them, and Sister Lee don her lawyer robes for the first time in two decades as she argues in court that their abusive uncle and aunt should be sent to jail. Seo-Gyeong is there to insist on clapping manacles on the forty-somethings as they’re taken away, and Yeong has a quiet conversation with some officials that results in the children regaining all of their parents’ money and property which said relatives had stolen. Sometime between the court case, Hyeon-min comes home one night and says, “So listen, there’s something I think we should discuss” and Yeong takes out a sheaf of papers and slides it across the kitchen counter, and yes, it’s filing for adoption papers and Yeong’s already put his stamp on it, and well, Hyeon-min will sign in LATER, after he’s fucked his husband on the kitchen table, and AFTER Yeong says, slightly mournful, we won’t be able to do that once the kids come home, and Hyeon-min’s loose limbed and not thinking straight and says we’ll, uh, send them for sleepovers regularly, and Yeong’s like if you think I’m ever going to let them out of my sight for more than an hour at a time, and Hyeon-min’s entire future life flashes before his eyes AGAIN.

It still takes them half a year, after the case is settled , to bring the kids home- though if it hadn’t been for PM Koo Seo Ryeong’s entire reworking of the Child Protection and Services Act three years prior, it might have taken longer.

(5) Shortly after they acquire the children, the last addition to the family is made, a gerbil that So-hee calls Mister, except that Mister delivers eight pups about six months later and neither Hyeon-min nor Yeong can figure out how she got pregnant, there were definitely no gerbil house calls being made, and no, Senior Inspector Seo-Gyeong, you are not allowed to make immaculate conception jokes in front of my 5 year old, yes, I can and will enforce that, why don’t you try, Major Jo etc.

(6) I lied, Mister wasn’t the last addition, little Joon-Seo joins them five years later and is everybody’s baby for the rest of his life, he would like to move to another country as soon as possible, to get away from his siblings, his appa’s annoying twin siblings, his dad’s even more annoying sisters, His Majesty who insists that he has to be the next mathematician in the family there’s nobody else left and also gen 8 of Mister’s family, his gross old dads and everyone except his lovely grandmas and Sister Lee, seriously can everyone else just LEAVE HIM ALONE, thanks a lot.

EPILOGUE to the EPILOGUE

(7) Twenty seven year old Soo-hee walks in on her gross old dads making out ON THE GODDAMN KITCHEN COUNTER I WAS GOING TO COOK A MEAL FOR YOU THERE OH MY GOD I AM NEVER GOING TO COME BACK TO THIS HOUSE

(8) Entirely unrelated, and also unknown to So-hee, that was the week that a certain Corean born artist of international fame returns to his motherland for his first show there. The public go crazy for him, but former Prime Minister and current chair of the International People’s Movement for Climate Justice Koo Seo Ryeong, when asked in an interview about her opinion, said, quote, I suppose it’s passable , if you’re into that kind of thing, but I like to spend my leisure time making the world habitable for our children so that they can produce something that will be remembered for generations.

Question reference from this meme! Play along! :D

#tell me the truth about love #tkem #the king eternal monarch

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

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Cue the Pirates of the Caribbean theme, people! ☠️

This is the next installment of the POTC AU -- if you’d like to read the previous part, you can find that here, or you can consult my “POTC AU” tag for the full thing as well as some other wonderful contributions my HPHM friends have made to this AU! Juliette “Jules” Farrier, who’s mentioned here as our sort-of-Elizabeth Swann, belongs to my sweet @cursebreakerfarrier. 💚

x~x~x~x

Now, normally, finding out that Orion had appeared out of nowhere to rescue her friend from drowning would’ve been more than enough reason for Carewyn to run over to both of them, check them for injuries, thank the stars that they were both okay and that Orion had been there, and finally ask Orion what the hell he was even doing there at all. Of course, Carewyn was not the only person who recognized Orion -- every single soldier who’d followed her out of the fort, as well as both Percy and Governor Farrier, were with her and had also recognized the pirate captain from his wanted posters. And so Carewyn had no choice but to immediately draw her sword and point it at Orion’s chest.

“Captain Orion Amari,” she said lowly, her blue eyes boring into his face.

Orion looked from Carewyn’s blade to the other swords held by her subordinates. Jules had already been snatched up the ground and pulled away by her father, but the dark-haired lady looked back at Orion, her eyes very wide. Orion’s eyes then returned to Carewyn.

“Captain Weasley,” the pirate greeted airily in return, as he slowly rose to his feet. “Oh -- yes, pardon me...you would be Commodore Weasley now...isn’t that right?”

"You know full well he’s a Commodore!” one of the regulars who’d been at the dock piped up angrily. He whirled on Carewyn with an almost huffy expression. “He said he’d come to ‘pay the Commodore a little visit’ -- ”

“Told you he was telling the truth,” the other regular muttered resentfully at him, before very quickly and dutifully adding to Carewyn, “These are his, sir!”

The young man turned over Orion’s belt and belongings. Reluctantly Carewyn parsed through them, turning his pistol over in her hand. She opened up another pocket and found a round gold framed object small enough to fit in her hand.

It was a portrait miniature of her, like the kind currently being sold on the docks of Port Royal.

Carewyn’s wide eyes darted from the portrait to down at Orion. His face was very placid, but there was a flicker with something almost sheepish in the creases of his eyes and lips.

“I suppose that’s how he found out you’re now Commodore,” said Percy, his brown eyes narrowing coldly upon Orion.

He picked up the little black box-like object that had fallen out of his belt pocket onto the deck and opened it. His nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Why -- his compass doesn’t even point north!” he said incredulously.

The other soldiers sniggered. Tucking the portrait miniature swiftly back into Orion’s belt, Carewyn turned and gave her troops a faintly reproachful look, and they all quieted.

“Dignity, men,” she said primly. “We’re soldiers of the crown. Let us act accordingly.”

Percy placed the compass in her waiting hand, shooting another dirty look at Orion as he did so.

Although Carewyn’s face was calm, her mind was working at a mile a minute. With the Governor, Percy, and so many of her men there, she knew there was no way she could simply get away with letting Orion off the hook, even if he had just saved Jules’s life. There was nothing she could do -- she would have to take Orion into custody.

“As flattered as I am for the...visit, Captain Amari,” she said as sardonically as she could, “you clearly had not the time to make living arrangements, for your stay. Fortunately there’s more than enough room in the local jail, where you can make yourself quite at home.”

“Ca -- Commodore,” Jules said quickly, “you don’t really intend to throw my rescuer in prison?”

Carewyn turned to her. She could see the concern in her eyes as she glanced from Carewyn to Orion and back, even as she tried to feign gentility.

‘She knows I don’t want to do it,’ thought Carewyn. ‘But I can’t pardon him, even if it’s supposedly for her sake -- her father would never be willing to look the other way...’

“I intend to throw a pirate in prison, Miss Farrier,” she murmured as calmly as she could.

Jules opened her mouth as if to protest, but her father spoke first.

“And then send him to the gallows, as is proper,” said Governor Farrier icily. His eyes turned to Carewyn. “Commodore, if Amari is here, the Artemis cannot be far behind -- we should make ready the Interceptor and take them down.”

Carewyn immediately looked at Orion’s face. Despite the level of cool he tried to put off, his shoulders had tensed noticeably.

“...I wonder about that,” said Carewyn very softly.

The Governor looked at her with narrowed, confused eyes. “What?”

Thinking quickly, she folded her arms behind her back and took three slow, plodding steps toward Orion, her eyes boring into his shoulder rather than his face. Her black boots clapped against the deck as she strolled leisurely but purposefully around him.

“You came to pay me a ‘visit,’ Captain Amari,” she said slowly, “and yet you came alone. Even though you must have known there’d be a fort full of soldiers attending the ceremony...”

When she was facing away from the Governor and her men, Carewyn shot Orion the quickest of gentle warning looks to tell him not to say anything.

“...It’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Orion Amari is known for being odd, Commodore,” Governor Farrier pointed out.

“Yes, but it’s odd to the point of being irrational, which he’s not known for. Pirates are sea rats first and foremost, Governor -- they’re not creatures of the land, by nature. A pirate choosing to fight a battle on dry land as opposed to the open sea can only signal one of two things: one, they think they can get away with it -- highly unlikely, in this circumstance...or two, they’re desperate.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes bore hard into Orion’s dark eyes.

‘Please -- please, play along,’ she thought desperately.

“You don’t have a ship anymore...do you, Captain?” she whispered.

Orion’s eyes widened. Then, understanding light flooding through his narrowing eyes, he made a sharp, almost violent movement toward her -- Carewyn grabbed his arm and in an instant had looped it around his back to restrain him.

“I would still, were it not for you,” Orion breathed as coldly as he could manage.

Carewyn put on the best smirk she could. “Mutiny and betrayal is par the course for pirates. I suppose your First Mate or Quartermaster is in charge now?”

Orion made a show of struggling against her grip, and Carewyn tightened her grip.

“Fetch some irons,” she ordered one of her subordinates.

Her and Orion’s eyes met again as the soldier ran off for the irons. Carewyn tried very hard not to show the anxiety she felt, but her face was very white. Orion’s dark eyes remained unreadable, but Carewyn could feel his arm in her grip twisting just enough that he could trail the pointer and middle fingers of his left hand along the inside of her forearm, almost as if to comfort her.

‘Oh, Orion, why did you have to come?’ Carewyn moaned internally to herself. ‘Why did you have to be so noble that you got yourself caught?!’

Fortunately once the irons arrived, Orion managed to seize his chance of escape. When Jules once again tried to protest him being imprisoned and hung, Orion was able to loop the iron chain connecting his manacles together around her neck and threaten Carewyn to give him his “effects” and let him loose, so that Jules wouldn’t come to harm. Although Carewyn knew that he would’ve never really hurt Jules, she could sense everyone else thought he was just off-balance enough to do it -- and fortunately Jules, in a incredible display of brilliance, was perfectly willing to play the part of the frightened damsel so as to help with the ruse. And so Orion Amari escaped captivity and went running off into the streets of Port Royal.

Carewyn’s men were sent after him, of course. She made sure that the soldiers fired off a lot of guns and made a good amount of noise in their pursuit, so as to hopefully alert any of Orion’s crewmates who might’ve stuck around to the trouble and make them retreat. Orion managed to evade capture for a good couple of hours -- he even managed to break the iron chain attaching his manacles. Eventually he ended up in a church not far away from the northern dock. When he went to hide out in there, however, the pirate captain collided with a priest about his age, with hair as ginger red as Carewyn’s.

The priest gave Orion a very penetrating look, his hands folded together inside the long white sleeves of his robes.

“You’d be who they’re looking for,” he said lowly. “Orion Amari.”

Orion’s dark eyes ran over the priest’s face for a moment. Then a trace of something almost like a smile touched his eyes.

“...You must be Bill Weasley.”

“That I am,” said Bill. His voice had hardened even further. “I suppose you’ve come to claim sanctuary?”

Orion’s smile left his eyes and he suddenly looked much more serious.

“...That would be rather helpful, Father,” he said.

His dark eyes flickered from the priest to the closed church doors over his shoulder.

Bill’s brown eyes narrowed upon the pirate’s face.

“Normally I’d be willing to give it -- but I’m afraid there’s a problem. You don’t fulfill the rules of sanctuary, for you’ve entered our church carrying weapons.”

Orion glanced down at his pistol and cutlass.

“...I see,” he granted. “Very well...I shall find refuge elsewhere, then.”

Orion made as if to turn on his heel and leave. Before he could take more than a step, though, he felt the tip of a blade poking him in the back.

“I’m afraid that’s not the only problem,” the eldest Weasley said, his voice very quiet and low in the back of his throat. “You see...you’ve threatened the lives of two of the most important people in my life.”

Orion glanced over his shoulder, very startled despite himself at the sight of a priest pointing a sword at him. Once he’d recovered, his face grew much more solemn.

“It was unavoidable, I’m afraid,” he said lowly.

Bill’s brown eyes flashed. “All the more reason for me to insure you don’t do it to anyone else.”

The sentiment was very much like Carewyn’s, when she’d first arrived on the Artemis -- it was little wonder this man and she had bonded so closely that he’d given her his name...

‘Carewyn said he’s in love with the Governor’s daughter,’ Orion quickly reminded himself when his heart clenched at the thought. ‘He gave Carewyn his name to protect her -- no other reason.’

Therefore Bill Weasley was someone Orion could only look upon with patience and gratitude, however misguided he now was...

“I don’t wish to fight you,” the pirate captain murmured.

“Then surrender to the Navy,” said Bill sharply. “Give yourself up quietly.”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed. “That I’m afraid I cannot do.”

Bill made as if to lunge forward, his sword raised -- Orion immediately unsheathed his cutlass to block him.

“I do not wish to fight you,” Orion repeated. “Do you truly mean to fight in your own church?”

“Romans 13:4,” retorted Bill. “‘For he is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer!’”

CLANG! SHING! SWISH! Orion had to block twice more and duck, to avoid Bill’s blows.

Before long, Orion and Bill were hotly engaged in battle. At one point, they were even climbing over and balancing on the edges of the benches in the pews, Bill holding the advantage not just due to his superior swordmanship, but also his long legs giving him a wider reach. Throughout the fight, Orion consistently tried to talk Bill down, but the eldest Weasley was too righteously angry to heed Orion’s repeated attempts at pacifism.

At long last, Orion was forced to play things a bit underhandedly. With a hard kick, he knocked a pew bench on top of Bill’s chest, slamming him down into the floor, and propped a leg firmly on top of the bench so Bill couldn’t get up.

“You...you cheating -- !” swore Bill.

He struggled in vain to try to push the bench off, but the angle made it impossible to properly position his arms in a way that he could move it.

Keeping his foot firmly on the bench, Orion contorted awkwardly to snatch up Bill’s sword from the floor in his other hand.

“Forgive me,” he said, his voice both shakier than normal as he tried to catch his breath and harder as he fought to contain his temper, which had been thoroughly tested over the span of the last five minutes. “But you’re more bull-headed than a Minotaur, Bill Weasley. Perhaps from that angle you may be able to listen a bit better...”

“I don’t need to hear any fairy stories from the man who kidnapped Carey and used Miss Farrier’s life as a bargaining chip to save his own neck,” Bill spat.

“Neither of which I deny,” said Orion, and his voice betrayed an odd edge, “but I would never have harmed either lady -- neither yours nor mine.”

Bill stiffened sharply. His narrowed brown eyes bore into the pirate, before they widened little by little, filling with shock and horror.

“Yes, I know she’s a girl,” said Orion very softly. “Her name is Carewyn. Carewyn Cromwell -- granddaughter of the pirate Captain Charles Cromwell. Her brother is Jacob Cromwell -- lost at sea years ago, disappearing under the name ‘Roberts.’ She’s worn a red ribbon in her hair since she was a child. She fought in the Navy, where you gave her the name ‘Weasley’ and adopted her into your family. She has a voice like a nightingale’s and a heart as large and deep as the ocean itself -- ”

“ENOUGH!” shouted Bill. His freckled face was flushed a deep scarlet and he tried to sound fierce, but his hands clutching the edges of the bench were shaking.

THUNK.

Orion abruptly stiffened. Then, his eyes rolling up into his head, he collapsed to the floor.

Charlie was standing overhead, holding the large, thick hilt of his own sword over where Orion’s head had been seconds previously. His face was just as flushed and upset as Bill’s as he rushed over to yank the bench off of his brother’s chest and help him to his feet.

“Bill -- are you okay?”

Bill gasped for air, clutching the front of his robes. “Ugh...yes...”

Charlie looked anxiously from Bill to the unconscious Orion. Before he could say anything else, the church doors were flung open. Red-uniformed soldiers poured into the room. At the front of the charge was Percy.

“Bill!” the youngest of the three Weasleys cried. “Charlie, thank goodness!” He shot over his shoulder at the other soldiers, “Swords -- out!”

He and the other red-uniformed soldiers surrounded the unconscious Orion, all pointing their swords at him. Carewyn entered the church at last as a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Her face was very pale as she surveyed the felled pirate. Her blue eyes darted to Bill and Charlie -- seeing that Charlie was supporting Bill, she immediately ran over to him.

“Bill -- ”

“I’m fine,” said Bill. His brown eyes rippled anxiously over her face, before they flickered down to Orion. “...I’m fine...”

His voice sounded oddly uncertain and shaky. Charlie glanced from him to Carewyn, his eyes narrowing with concern.

“Carey...before you arrived, Amari said -- ”

But Carewyn shot Charlie a subtle, but sharp shake of the head.

“Never mind what he said. He’s a pirate -- pirates lie.”

“But -- ” started Charlie, but Carewyn gave him a quelling look. She glanced over at the soldiers surrounding Orion over her shoulder, her blue eyes rippling with something almost like shame and remorse. Then she looked from Charlie to Bill with a pleading, almost desperate kind of look.

‘I’ll explain later.’

Then she turned on her heel and walked over to stand over Orion.

“It seems this is the day we’ll always remember as the day Captain Orion Amari almost escaped,” she said very coolly. “Take him to the brig. We’ll set his execution date once the weather improves.”

As the soldiers locked Orion up in chains and Carewyn followed along after them, however, both Bill and Charlie couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t happy about how things had gone down...

As night fell, there was a terrible chill in the air over the island of Port Royal, with clouds passing over the skull-white moon. No one could’ve known what that bizarrely cold wind from the East really meant...and who it was carrying closer to port.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #bill weasley #charlie weasley #jules farrier #percy weasley #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #GDAMNIT BILL #I love you and how noble you are but why oh why did you have to NOT know orion and carey are ttly cool?#guess we can blame percy for being in the room and so vocally anti-pirate that carewyn couldn't tell all three of you the truth #and yeah with your limited knowledge base you'd have every reason not to trust orion #I mean he did kidnap your BFF come to Port Royal presumably to hurt her again and then threatened your OTL's life to escape custody #oh orion how are you going to get out of this...?#and also why *were* you going to visit carey huh? >>#you can bet mcnully wasn't involved in this plan to head out into port royal completely alone #I'm sure he's probably screaming about the high percentage of failure orion was facing down as we speak #'ORION! THE CHANCES OF NAVIGATING PORT ROYAL AND GETTING TO THE NEW COMMODORE WITHOUT BEING SPOTTED'#'ARE BELOW TWO PERCENT!'#'AND THAT'S GENEROUS'#oh yes also! bill was hiding his sword scabbard under his robes #he slipped his hand out of his sleeve to pull it out under the robes and then bring it back up through his sleeve #but yeah force of habit from his navy days -- bill is ALWAYS armed #thanks for the cool sword charlie!! :DD

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edgeofmyniall · 4 years

Text

seven part ii- sangria

storypage | taglist | playlist | thoughts

“ Only thing I want to do tonight is drink you like a Spanish wine. Let you let this head of mine keep spinning, spinning around.”

Niall was right. Ginger still wanted to have sex with Niall, now more desperately than ever. She wanted to feel his body hovering over her, his muscles tighten… to have legs hanging over his shoulders as he pushes himself deeper…

But she woke up alone in a bed big enough for the two of them. Her head was pounding slightly but the need to vomit wasn’t there. Her hair was in a bun and she was changed out of her clothes from last night. She rolled out of bed and noticed a glass of water and two pills were laying on the bedside table.

The breeze was blowing through the open windows. She took in the fresh air and began to wander around the villa. She was looking for Niall, but curiosity took over. She looked at the many picture-perfect beaches framed pictures that hung on the walls, the luau music that played quietly over the speakers, the soft snoring of Niall.

He was asleep on the couch with the television playing. Ginger sat down on the coffee table and watched him sleep. The soft tendrils of hair fell down his face and the gold necklace that she had bought him yesterday hung around his neck like it was made for him. She watched the crook of his nose and wondered what it must feel like to have it hit her clit as his tongue delved inside of her. How his lips felt against her skin. How his beard would feel scraping against her stingy thighs. She intertwined her fingers against each other as she held her hand. She bit down on her bottom lip as she furrowed her brow as she imagined his eyes screwing shut as he came. Everything she imagined, she thought was beautiful. She wanted to know what it was like.

Ginger finally poked Niall’s shoulder and his eyes fluttered open. He sat up, yawning, and wiping the sleep away from his eyes. His hand rested on Ginger’s bare knee as he steadies himself, and Ginger became more aware of his presence. His touch burned like fire.

“Why didn’t you sleep in the bed?” Ginger asked, trying to keep her mind off his hand clinging to her.

“Mornin’ to ya too, love,” his accent was deep and rough in the morning and Ginger smiled as she realized that this was hers for the rest of her life. “You were,” Niall looked at her and pushed her fly away curl out of her face, “Jesus… I didn’t think I could sleep next to ya, and not touch ya.”

“And what do you call this?” Ginger gestured to her nightclothes.

“I was takin’ care of ya. Jesus, Gin, I wasn’t going to fuck you while you were unconscious.”

“True dat,” Ginger laughed. “Didn’t think of that. Anyways,” Ginger stands up letting Niall’s hand fall. She walks around the cream couch and leans on the back. Her heels bounce causing her thighs and ass to jiggle, “what are we doing today?”

“The only thing I got planned today is a couple's massage…” Niall leaned back against the couch and Ginger could smell the sandalwood in his hair. She wanted to pull his hair as he thrusts into her, but she smiled into his ear.

“Couples, eh?” Ginger giggled. She kissed his temple and when he thought she had left, Niall huffed out, “I’m in love with an absolute idiot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginger had never gotten a massage. She had never paid anyone to put their hands on her naked body. But when Niall laid down on the small table wearing nothing but a towel, she was excited. The small cabana that overlooked the horizon stood on the flat roof of their villa. Ginger had moved her table from next to Niall’s to across from him. She wanted to watch him. Laying on the table with nothing but a towel, she laid her head down on her crossed arms and smiled. This was heaven.

What wasn’t heaven was the woman touching Niall. Ginger wanted to throw her off the roof. She watched the masseuse carefully as the woman’s fingers worked their way up and down Niall’s body. Ginger was jealous; it was written plainly on her face. And the few times Niall looked up, he rolled his lips in to stop the laughter from coming out.

“Enjoy the massage?” Niall asks as his arm slinks around Ginger’s waist. They were walking towards a boat that Niall had rented.

“Yeah...loved seeing another woman touching you…” her voice was dry. Still the jealousy was there, but the massage was wonderful. “I’m sure if the guy had shown up, and he was touching me…”

“I’d kill him,” Niall laughed as he helped Ginger onto the small boat.

The waters were smooth as Niall navigated their way towards a beach that Niall swore up and down was legit, but with each passing hour that they circled around, Ginger came to realize that either Niall didn’t know where he was going or he was stalling. She wanted to say something to him, but when she finally got up the courage, Niall had shouted, “Land ahead.” Niall dropped the anchor a little outside of shore and pulled his shirt off. He dove into the crystal clear water, swimming towards the shore. Ginger pulled off her see-through cover-up and followed suit. The water was cold at first, but sitting in the boat under the blazing sun, it was a relief to Ginger’s skin. Niall sat on the beach waiting on Ginger, and when she sat next to him, she asked the question that bugged her to no end.

“When did you learn to sail?”

He looked over at her and smirked, “Took a class before we met. Didn’t think it would actually be useful, but…” Ginger let her head fall on Niall’s shoulder as they watched the setting sun sink. The yellows, oranges, and pinks wafted through the clouds like the paint had spilled onto a canvas. It was beautiful.

“This looks so familiar. Like I’ve seen it before.” Ginger said as she sighed.

“I hope so. It’s only in one of your favorite movies…” Ginger picked up her head and looked at Niall curiously.

“What?”

“Pirates of the Carribean...the cave?”

“Oh fucking shit,” Ginger slap Niall’s arm. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

“I did some research, and I figured I could take you here…”

“I so fucking love you,” Ginger smiled as she kissed Niall. Her lips were massaging his as Niall’s hand rested on Ginger’s dip in her side. His fingers dug into her skin and she was reminded how much she wanted him.

“C’mon,” Niall whispered after he pulled away from Ginger’s intoxicating kiss. They both stood up and as Niall grasped Ginger’s wrist tenderly, he led her inside the small cave where a hammock had been hung. “Better view…” he whispered. He helped Ginger climb into the hammock and made fun of her clumsiness when her knee missed the fabric. The two of them sat in the hammock swinging as the sun slowly fell out of the sky. Niall’s hand cupped the inside of Ginger’s thigh. His thumb rubbing and tracing her skin. She squirmed under his touch at first, desperate for anything, but she fell into a sense of ease and lovingness. It was when the warmth of his hand left that she swallowed hard.

“No matter what, look at the sunset...until I tell you to, okay?” Ginger nodded, trying to concentrate on the rocky slope or the mountain that the waterfall was flowing over. Anything to get her mind off Niall. Here and now? This is where they would consummate their relationship? Niall shifted, his hip brushing against hers, rubbing the strings of the bathing suit against her hip bone, and Ginger let out a moan. God she needed to be touched.

“Okay, look at me,” Ginger, tear-filled eyes, looked at Niall with parted lips. He was holding up a silver bracelet. It was a bar bracelet with Roman numerals etched into it. Part of Ginger was disappointed. She had built up in her mind the moment Niall would take her, but this still made her heart leap. She held out her hand and let Niall clasp it around her small freckled wrist.

“What’s the date?” She searched for something in Niall’s eyes. Something that would let him know that’s she’s ready.

“The day I fell in love with you,” Niall’s forehead touched hers and his breath hiccupped like his heart. “The day I met you.”

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

The couple had sailed back to their villa. They were starving for each other and for food, and in Niall’s fashion they both went out for dinner. He donned a white floral shirt with navy blue slacks and Ginger when she appeared out of the bedroom wore a leopard dress that clung to her body- accentuating her figure.

“Christ, you look,” Niall’ growled as he rubbed his mouth with his palm. “Can I be honest with ya?” Niall’s eyes, once blue, were painted black with desire and hunger for the flesh.

“Always,” Ginger said absentmindedly as she looked for her red lipstick in her clutch.

“If I take you outside of this house dressed like that, I will end up in jail,” Niall cupped the back of his neck. He was fidgeting- anything to take his mind off Ginger’s body.

“Why?” her voice floated like velvet in his ears, seductive and teasing. God, he was hard already.

“Because it should be illegal to look like that.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was the worst. It was torture for both parties involved. The way Niall made subtle hints with his tongue through dinner. Ginger slowly running her feet up Niall’s inner leg and the way she seductively ate her food- slowly letting the metal scrape across her lips. They both wanted each other, and yet when they found themselves in public with eyes staring at the couple. Ginger wanted to feel Niall’s dick inside her hands- the soft skin, the thickness of him.

When the check came, Niall waited impatiently as the waiter brought back his card. His thumb began to tap along the clothed table.

“Antsy?” Ginger quirked up a brow as she took a slow sip of her wine. Niall smirked as the waiter came back.

Parking the SUV, Niall turns to Ginger as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Listen,” Ginger looks up to him, “if you’re not ready, it’s okay. I mean,” he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, “I want ya, bad. I really want you, Ginger, but if you’re not ready… just say so. Because if not, I am going inside that house,” he points to the front door, “and I’m getting you naked.” Ginger leans over the console and her hand slips down the outside of Niall’s pants as she begins to rub the tightened fabric of his crotch. Her lips roll over Niall’s earlobe, pushing a “Jesus fuck” out of Niall’s mouth.

“I want you to fuck me, Niall.”

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

They two crashed against the hallway walls as they kissed each other hungrily. Niall kicked the door closed as his hand Ginger’s right breast. Ginger fumbled through the buttons of Niall’s shirt as they made their way to the bedroom. Ginger kicked off her heels and Niall walked out of his shoes; Niall’s hands couldn’t stop feeling Ginger’s body, couldn’t stop grabbing her hips, couldn’t stop moving. He wanted to touch her everywhere she would allow him. But it all stopped when the back of Ginger’s knees hit the bed.

Niall paused, resting his head on her, trying desperately to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and breathed in the intoxicating smell of Ginger. He was consumed by her.

“You sure you want this?” Niall asks as his knuckle runs across Ginger’s rosy cheek.

“Yes,” she breathed, rolling her lips in. She wanted to burst. She felt how wet she was. She knew she was ready.

“Turn around,” and Ginger did. Niall slowly unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. He unclasped her bra, and as Ginger turned around, she let her crossed arm down. Her breasts were round and full. Perky as Niall imagined. They were bigger than his hand, but they fit perfectly in his palm. His finger tenderly touched her sensitive nipples leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Ginger unbuttoned his pants and they pool around Niall’s feet. She looked up at him before dipping her finger into the elastic band of his briefs. Pushing those down, his hard dick sprung free. It was everything Ginger imagined. Ginger began to sit down on the edge of the bed and as Niall hovered over her, she scooted slowly back to the middle of the mattresses. She leaned on her elbows as Niall’s completely naked body loomed over her- the gold necklace swinging near her face.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you,” Niall planted a kiss between her breasts.

For the first time in Ginger’s life, she made love with someone who loved her back.

Niall slipped his fingers over Ginger’s thong and pulled them over her body. It was the moment that his finger dipped inside Ginger’s lips that he truly felt how badly she wanted him- how wet she was.

His thumb circled her clit, and Ginger’s stomach caved in, tightening at the touch. Her legs began to shake and she opened her mouth, but there were no words to come, only moans. She felt her entrance pulsate against the rubbing as she dug her nails deep into Niall’s arms. She wanted to cum. She wanted so badly, but Niall pulled away before she could. She looked up at him and watched as he placed his finger inside his mouth, tasting her wetness.

Niall straightened up and lowered his head between her thighs. His beard scratched the tender skin causing Ginger to jump as he kissed her thighs. Niall looked up her over her body’s hills and valleys and smiled. “You’re beautiful as fuck from down here, and you taste....” Niall couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. His tongue circled her entrance before delving inside her. He felt the wavy walls contract against his tongue as his nose rubbed her clit. Up and down, up and down they rhythm went. And the pain Ginger felt, the pain to let go as her legs shook and her body became stiff overtook her. Her vulva pulsated against his mouth. His tongue was doing devilish work. Ginger raked her fingers through Niall’s hair, gently pulling it as electricity zoomed through her body. The knot in her stomach was winding up too tightly and she needs a release.

“Please, fuck, Niall...” she breathed, as the words escaped her moan, he moaned at the sound of her begging for him. The year of pining after one other had built up to this moment of Ginger’s body refusing to release. All the times she had gotten herself off at the thought of him, now is the time her body begged for more.

Niall moaned making Ginger thrust on his face. She was close....after the two days of teasing and the subtle and not so subtle hints, she wanted to drench Niall’s face with her sticky release. She wanted to Niall to push himself down her throat until she gagged. But Niall was taking his time and moving gently. His tongue wasn’t feverishly lapping up her insides, it was gentle and mover overpowering than anything. It was when he lifted his head and wiped away Ginger’s dampness and he began to circle her cit again slowly that her back arched and her body stilled. She was pulling her nipples tenderly when hips dug into the mattress. She looked at Niall- his lips glistening as they parted as he stroked his member with his other hand. “Come for me, baby girl.”

The winding in her stomach had been too much for her. The rippling feeling flooded through her entrance and all the tighten muscles in her body went limp. She moaned out Niall’s name as Niall bent down and took in her release.

Her breathing was hard and it felt like she would never catch her breath. She didn’t notice that Niall was sitting upon his knees as he still stroking his hard dick. He smiled as Ginger sat up and turn on her knees. She kissed him, pulling down onto the mattress.

Her lips were heaven. They were soft and wet and swollen, but they engulfed him in wet heat, in something he never experienced before. Ginger began to suck his dick with hollow cheeks and her hand rubbed up and down where she couldn’t go. Her mouth was warm and her tongue flicked against the frenulum. His eyes screwed shut and he twisted a fist full of the sheet inside his palm. He was already on the edge, but he was pushing to explode. Her mouth left his dick for a moment as she sucks his balls inside her mouth, flicking her tongue against the sensitive skin.

The tip of his hard cock was met with a small kiss before Ginger took it inside her mouth again.

“Jesus, fuck...Ginger...” Niall moaned, and Ginger moaned with him. She wanted to come again. She was turned on by the way Niall fell apart under her touch, but she wanted to taste him. “I’m going to come... please... stop...”

Ginger sat up, confused. She wanted him to come inside her mouth. Reading her mind, he pushed her wild curls out of her face and said, “Lay down petal.”

Ginger laid down on the mattress with her knees parted. Niall sat up and scooted to Ginger. He teased her opening with the tip of his dick, forcing her to moan. Niall looked at Ginger and felt his heart soar. He pushed himself inside her slowly as her breathing began ragged. Her fingers dug into his chest and Ginger felt Niall finally fill her. He leaned down and whispered, “I wanna make love to ya.” His mouth found home to Ginger’s nipples, flicking his tongue around and over them as he thrusts inside her.

His thrusts were slow and sensual at first, but the more Ginger moaned, the faster he went. He rocked his hips against hers. Niall stops thrusting only to lift Ginger’s legs onto his shoulders, feeling her deeper. She screams out as she feels the knot twisting in her stomach again. Her legs become like Jell-O and her hips rock against his keeping a rhythm that only they know.

Ginger’s legs fall on either side of Niall and he slowly thrusts his cock inside her as his thumb circles her clit. She clings to the sheet as her eyes screw shut and screams out his name. Her undoing wetting the bed. But this time, Niall gives no leeway to her resting. He cups Ginger’s neck, pushing her mouth towards his dick. She takes his cock inside his mouth and sucks long and hard- her tongue flicking against the skin.

“I’m close,” he breathes and Ginger sucks faster. Her head bobs forward as she feels his tip hit the back of her throat. She rocks her neck and she feels Niall’s palm grab her curls at the back of her head. He calls out to her as his undoing spurts inside her mouth- warm and sticky, the salty taste fills her mouth. When Niall’s grip loosens and he falls on the bed, she swallows.

The sticky, hot bodies fold into each other as Ginger lays down. Niall, mindlessly, fingers her shoulder as he stares up at the ceiling. She wraps her arm around his stomach and crooks her leg over his hips. She looks up at him with endearment. Niall’s heart was beating out of his chest. He was vulnerable with Ginger in a way that he never really knew , and the crazy thing was, he wasn’t scared.

“You okay my love?” He wishes this moment would never end.

“That was....” she starts, but there are no words to describe the love-making they just performed. The year of the wanting, and the looks, and the touches crashed under them, and it was wonderful. Out of all the so-called relationships Ginger had been in, she was the most vulnerable with Niall, and she was absolutely, without a doubt, in love with him

“Stupendous? Amazing? Life-shattering?” Niall teased- his smile filled his face and his eyes crinkled. “Seriously though?”

“Everything I imagined and more.” Ginger sighs and yawns. She lifts her head to look at the clock on the table beside the bed. “It’s midnight? We fucked for over an hour?”

“You seemed surprised?” Niall turned to face her. She was beautiful- glowing and happy. And she was all his. It was a dream he never wanted to wake from.

“I just... I didn’t know what to expect. My past experiences have been wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” Ginger thrusts her hips against Niall’s as she giggles.

“Jesus, Gin. You really... wow...” Niall kissed her on the forehead. “Listen you do realize it’s not always gonna be like this? Some days I want ta fuck ya senseless. Some days I’ll want to take me time and explore, but trust me, it’ll be the best you’ll ever have.”

“Is that so? Cocky much?”

“Not cocky, I mean I do have that, but confident.” They both smiled as they pictured the same future for them. “I love ya, I’ll never stop sayin’ it. You have me heart...You’re the one babe.”

“Mmmm, well,” Ginger pauses and makes a face as if she’s thinking, “Maybe if I don’t meet Richard Madden or one of the Hemsworth brothers, you might be the one.”

“I am in love with an idiot, ya know that? You are a proper moron.” Niall laughs and pulls Ginger in. “I dreamt of this for so long; it doesn’t seem real.”

“It’s real alright because I can’t feel my legs.”

“That’s a good thing.” Ginger smacks Niall’s arm playfully.

“I know that, moron. But I pushed the thought of us out of my head for awhile now that this is a foreign concept to me.” Ginger rolls her eyes before yawning.

“A dream come true, eh?” Niall cocks his brow up and watches as Ginger cozies her head into the crook of his arm.

“Babe, I want to go home,” Ginger closes her eyes and Niall understands that it wasn’t Los Angeles she was longing for.

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

@oyesmendes @klairelavarias @thicksniall @dontgiveupthedayjob @kare38 @verorax @stayclose-holdsteady @halfpinthoran

#not to toot my own horn #i think this is my best SMUT yet #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fic #niall horan au #bree kish #niall horan smut #1dff #1d fan fiction #1d smut

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fletchphoenix · 4 years

Text

Your Days Are Gone, The Grocery List Goes On

Hi All! So, this is based off the song Milk - Jack Stauber BUT mostly Doctor Chalk’s absolutely beautiful animatic of it, which you should totally check out.

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

He felt like he was falling - endless black clouded his vision and his hair blew wildly around him. Where even was he anymore? All he remembered was his mom grabbing his wrists and everything burning all over his body. He remembered Hugo, his first love, who’d intended to betray him from the very beginning, prompting him to lock himself in the library with his mom. Body hit floor, skin meeting harsh wood as he finally stopped his descent, and hastily scurried to his feet in the, at first unfamiliar environment.

He tried to look at where he was. A small room with bookshelves lining the walls, a bed in the middle. A guitar sat discarded, propped against the desk against the wall. Pieces of paper with scribbled writing on them were stuck to and littered all over the walls - on closer inspection, they were notes from experiments. His experiments. He knew where he was. His room back in Old Corona.

Screams - Hugo’s screams - were echoing outside the room. He had to get out. This wasn’t his home. He couldn’t be home. He reached his hand out and tried twisting the doorknob and opening the door, but that didn’t work. Movements became frantic as he kept on trying. His hands shook as he tried and tried to turn the doorknob, until he gave up on that strategy. He pounded and slammed himself against the door, desperately trying to break out but to no avail. The door remained firm. He tried to scream as his own body was used against his will, his mother using it to abuse and harm the man he once loved. But nothing happened. He tried to cry, but no noise came out. He tried again to open the door. Again and again and again, until he sank to the floor shaking. A louder, more clear scream shook the foundations of the room.

“VARIAN!” He heard faintly in the background, sound filtering in and out as he slowly fought for control against his mother. “Varian! Goggles! You’ve gotta fight this! Please! We all need you- I need you!”

Hugo. Traitor. Why was he still here? How was he here? Varian could’ve sworn he locked him out of the library and Donella revealed he was working for her the whole time. His face hardened, but he couldn’t help the small stream of tears that ran cooly down his cheeks as he listened to the blonde’s desperate cries. “Varian-please you’ve gotta listen to me! I know I fucked up - really bad. But you need to fight back!”

He tried to cover his ears and block the sounds and noises out, but Hugo still persisted, his screams still causing the room to quake. “GOGGLES PLEASE! Varian! Come back to me! I love you!”

And with that, Varian paused. Hugo felt the same. The man who’d taken so much from him..had loved him the same. He thought back on his memories with the blonde - talking by the campfire in the moonlight, walking together in the snow, teaching Yong alchemy...was he ready to let that all go?

A newfound determination rushed through his body, as he started to fight back more and more against Ulla. He couldn’t let her do this. He needed to fight. He kept on slamming himself against the door. He wasn’t ready to lose everyone. He wasn’t ready to lose Hugo.

Bang.

For Nuru.

Bang.

For Yong.

Bang.

For Hugo.

He let out a loud scream of pain, the door opening and falling to the floor. He stumbled forward and felt himself falling once more, his vision fading to black.

Varian awoke with his head in Hugo’s lap, the older twirling his hair around his fingers and staring down at him with tearful eyes along with the widest smile he’d ever seen. “Varian” he whispered, his voice coarse and weak from the screaming.

“Hey.” The younger replied and barely had change to say more before Hugo embraced him, sobbing into his shoulder and murmuring countless apologies to the younger teen, who just smiled and held onto him tight. He rested his hand on the back of Hugo’s head and pet his hair, Ulla watching the scene with a saddened smile.

“I remember when you were a baby.”

Varian paused to look up at Ulla from his embrace with Hugo. He tilted his head and stood, moving over and sitting beside her on the cold library floor. Glistening tears rolled down her cheeks, but her eyes focused on the floor in front of them, and ginger hair sat awkwardly trailing down her back. It was strange to think this woman, who looked so innocent and vulnerable, had been trying to take over her son’s body a few moments prior. His hand reached out to rest on her back, Ulla flinching away from the touch and pressing forward.

“You were my pride and joy, y'know. I’d look at you and go..wow. This is my son. MY son! I always knew you’d do great things the minute I laid eyes on you. I suppose every mother thinks that about their child, but you...somehow I knew you were destined to be great.” she monologued, a smile on her face as she turned to look at her son. Icy hands rested on his pale, tear-stained cheeks as she examined his face, gently brushing the old tracks that ran down them, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“I shouldn’t have left your father or you to seek out this place. I know now it’s selfish..but I just wanted to complete this mission..and Donella was so convincing..so I left. I wanted more from this place when we found it, so me and Donella argued. We both had the same idea - she aimed to keep me in..I aimed to keep her out. And it worked. Nothing broke my heart more than not being able to see you or your father again. But..it's all my fault. If I hadn’t left, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Nonetheless, I’m so..proud of you, son. You’ve accomplished so so much..I just don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me.” her voice cracked, moving her hands back to her face to hide her pain.

Hugo gave Varian’s shoulder a light squeeze, a reassuring smile on his face as he encouraged him to talk. Varian took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out.

“Mom..I forgive you.” he silenced Ulla as she attempted to protest with a wave of his hand, “I’ve done some terrible things too…” he let out a pained sigh. “When I was 14, black rocks started growing all around Old Corona. Dad warned me to stay away, but I was so determined to find what was wrong and show I’m not just a screw up that I kept on experimenting. One day...I trapped dad in an amber-like solution. It was an accident, but I ran to the castle and begged the princess for help. Instead, my pleads fell on deaf ears and I was cast out. Hell, they even criminalised me and claimed I tried to attack the princess.”

“Anyway..I was so angry that I stole the sundrop to try and free dad but..I found the power of the sundrop had been transferred to the princess. I was so scared and angry that I decided...if a villain was what they wanted, then fine, they’d get a villain. I kidnapped the queen and attacked the kingdom. They stopped me and put me in jail for a year. That’s where I met Andrew.” He rolled his eyes at the name and let out another sigh.

“He convinced me that no one would ever forgive me for anything that I did. So I made a formula that I used on the kingdom - Quirinium. It was designed to wipe the memories of the whole of Corona so they’d forget what I did and we could go back to normal again...but the Saporians had other plans. During testing, we found that when heated, it didn’t convert to a gaseous state, but it exploded. They wanted to use that for harm - to destroy the kingdom of Corona. Luckily, the princess came back and helped me to fight them off but…” he bit his lip and hesitated before continuing.

“Rapunzel forgave me. Even after I tormented her family and kingdom, she still forgave me. And slowly, the other citizens of Corona started to forgive me too. So..I forgive you, mom. I forgive you.”

Ulla’s eyes brimmed with tears as she lunged forward and hugged her son tight, sobbing with her frail form shaking as they wracked her body. Apologies escaped from her lips, not relenting even as Varian returned the hug. She didn’t wanna go. She really didn’t want to leave all of this behind - not after she’s just met her son again after years and years trapped in this hellhole. What if he wouldn’t be okay without her? One glance at her son’s companion, Hugo, let her know. He looked at Varian the same amount of love and devotion Quirin had looked at her before all of this. He was in safe hands, not that he couldn’t handle himself of course just...he wasn’t going to be alone. A small smile crept its way onto her face as she moved away. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.”

“What do you mean? Mom?” Varian asked, anxiety building at his mom’s statement. “Mom, I don’t-I don’t understand-” he whispered, her eyes locked with hers as she brushed his fringe out of his face and kissed his forehead tenderly, moving back to cup his face in her hands.

“I love you, Varian.” She said, her voice barely a whisper as her body started to dematerialise in front of her son and his friend. Finally, she could be at peace instead of trapped in this library. She sighed a satisfied sigh, a smile creeping onto her face. Now, it was only a matter of time until she saw Quirin again...god, she couldn’t wait to see him again..

“Mom? MOM!” Varian cried and lunged forward to hug her. He was too late. Where her body once stood, there was only empty space and air. Tears welled in his eyes and immediately, he spun round to pull Hugo into a crushing embrace, the older pulling him closer and holding him just as tight. He sobbed and he sobbed and he sobbed till he couldn’t anymore, with Hugo holding him as they sat on the dark oak library floor together in a comforting grasp.

“Did you mean it?” he said in a hoarse voice, his throat scratchy and sore from all the crying he’d done, “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

Shakily, Hugo replied with a single nod, emerald eyes meeting azure as their fingers interlocked and the other gave a fleeting smile. Varian couldn’t stop himself, reaching out to grasp the collar of Hugo’s jacket, pulling him in and smashing their lips together in one of the most toothy, awkward kisses of his life that just seemed so..them.

Hugo was the first to break it, a smirk on his face. “Damn, goggles. That's one way to tell a guy you’re head over heels in love with him.” he let out a laugh, wincing at a sudden pain in his rips at the action. “On second thought, maybe I should hold back on the laughter.” he muttered, Varian bursting out into a fit of laughter on the floor with stray tears still making their way down his cheeks.

“We should go back soon.” Varian commented, making no effort to stand as he lay on the cold floor, reaching his hand up to trail through Hugo’s blonde locks that had long since fallen out of his ponytail. He still looked stunning, well...despite the blood and bruises that covered every inch of his, in his words, ‘flawless’ face. “Heh, it’s weird. Even with all that blood on you, I still think you look as handsome as ever.”

“How about you show me how handsome you think I am?” Hugo snidely remarked, leaning over the boy on the floor and claiming his lips once again. Varian’s arms snaked around Hugo’s neck and pulled him in closer, desperate to keep him and to never lose this boy. He broke the kiss after a few minutes, Hugo peppering kisses all over his lips, forehead, cheeks..all over his face. He giggled at the comforting gestures before pushing away his boyfriend and standing.

“You coming?” he asked, holding out his hand for the other to take, which Hugo graciously accepted. Their fingers intertwined as they approached the entrance to the Eternal Library, casting each other a loving glance and soft smile. Hugo raised Varian’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Ready when you are, Goggles.” He said, a smile on his face. Varian took another deep breath and, hand in hand with his boyfriend, they exited the library together, ready to face whatever came next.

Together.

#varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian x hugo #varian tangled #tangled varian #hugo tangled #ulla tangled

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