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machinegunbun · 4 years ago

Note

PETE ACDS

A/N: The long awaited (about two months) fic! It hasn’t been proofread but I wanted to get it out so I could go get dinner. I’ll fix any problems when I get back.

Word count: 2,973 but Imma round it up and say 3k for my ego

If there's one thing you know, it’s that there’s nothing like a good game of dress up to boost your confidence. you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for the last half hour, admiring the way your body looked in the new lingerie.

Let's make one thing clear. You are not, for the most part, a very confident person, but it’s hard not to be confident when you look this fucking good. There would be vigorous debates between multiple world leaders on the topic of what was more poppin’, your highlight or that ass, and after years of deliberation and consulting multiple experts top in their field, it would be determined that they both excelled in different ways, coming together to create the hottest bitch on planet earth. God damn, I am that bitch, you thought.

When you’re feeling this confident, there's only one thing to do. Show your man what he's got. Reaching over, you grab your phone from the bed before returning to the mirror. Clicking it on, you swipe over to open the camera while posing in front of the mirror.

It wasn’t until you looked back on your photoshoot that you realized you’d been giving yourself fuck me eyes in almost every picture. In need of validation and praise for your hard work, you click Pete’s contact and send him a few.

The next few minutes were full of you admiring yourself, imagining in detail the things you would do to yourself if you were Pete.

Pete, on the other hand, was doing the exact same thing. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the photo since he’d received it, taking his time raking his eyes over every inch of your body. Pete was very lucky to have a job doing something he enjoyed, meaning he was never in a big rush to get home, but today he definitely would be.

When Pete finally walked through the door he was more than ready for what tonight would hold, but his excitement was cut short as he was met with a room of your friends. They had shown up unexpectedly and you’d been trying to get them to leave ever since you’d gotten his text,

“I’m on my way home. If you aren’t in that lingerie on the bed ass up by the time I get home you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble.”

but, they wouldn’t take the hint. You loved them, but they were shitty at taking hints. When you heard him walk through the door your mind began racing, knowing if you didn’t find a way to shoo your friends out early you would be in deep, deep-

“No, no it’s okay. Stay for a little, I could use it. How have you guys been?” Pete says as one of your friends stands to leave, finally understanding that it must have something to do with Pete coming home. You can see the warning in his eyes when they meet your own, his back turned to your friends as he eyed you, wearing nothing but his shirt, practically swimming in the material.

He listens absentmindedly as your friend fills him in on the conversation about her boyfriend- Er, ex-boyfriend, you all were having before he arrived, making his way into the kitchen where you were making snacks.

“Right, right.” He says, giving your friend a vague response to show he was listening before leaning down to whisper in your ear “What the fuck do you think you’re doing inviting your friends over when you know you’re in trouble?”

“I didn’t-”

“I should take you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out just to teach you a lesson, but I think you’d like that a little too much, wouldn’t you, slut.” He whispers, turning to acknowledge your friend entering the kitchen

“Do you guys have any alcohol? I just really wanna get drunk.” She says.

It took around an hour for your friends to finally leave. You had a good time, and for a moment you even forgot you were in trouble with Pete. You almost thought he had aswell, until he approached you after shutting and locking the door behind them for the night.

“You wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry, I was ju-”

“I just- I was only- What? You just knew you were in trouble so you invited your friends over to get out of it?”

“No! I didn’t even know they were coming over! My phone was dead.”

“I guess that’s why you read my text and still disobeyed me then, huh?”

“Well- No, my phone was charged at that point.”

“That’s okay, you’re gonna make it up to me. Instead of just being punished for trying to distract me at work, you can-” as the words were leaving his mouth, your phone dings. Speak of the devil. Your breath catches in your throat as the tension in the room grows. Seriously? You think, Right now? Could the timing have possibly been worse?

“Check it.” He challenged, glaring down at you. Your eyes flicked over to your phone, memories of what you had done just hours before to get yourself into this flooding your mind, your gaze quickly returning to his, unsure if it was rhetorical “Go ahead, you’re already in trouble.”

“It’s Casey,” you gulp “dinners ready.” Pete looked mildly inconvenienced by this, maintaining a silent eye contact momentarily before motioning you up the stairs with a look on his face that said ‘What are you waiting for?’

It wasn’t every night that you would have dinner as a family, but Casey had just gotten back from a vacation with friends, so Amy wanted to take the opportunity to have everyone together.

You walked in front of him, taking one step at a time, holding your breath. The anxiety- no, anticipation was overwhelming. You’d waited so long just for him to get home, and now you’d have to wait again.

Casey had cut him off mid sentence, You began to wonder what he would’ve said if she hadn’t. Your leg twitches as you realize you’d only find out in the moment. No time left for warnings, when you finally got back downstairs there would be so much build up you doubt he’d take the time to write a speech.

Ma sat opposite Pete and you at the table, an empty chair next to Ma for Casey who was currently fixing herself a plate, your own full plates sitting in front of you. Dinner for tonight was steak and potatoes with cooked asparagus. It was hard to focus on food. Instead, you dragged the tongs of your fork through your potatoes, hoeing the mashy farmland that was your dinner, when you felt a hand grip your thigh.

You were feeling quite the range of emotions now, a hard contrast to how you were feeling when you got yourself into this mess. You’re scared, but excited, submissive, but bratty, nervous, but wet. The anxiety of it all is killing you, wanting nothing more than to go back downstairs and make it up to him.

“Hey, stupid.” Casey says, smacking Pete on the back of the head as she makes her way to her seat.

“I’m not stupid, you are. Stupid.” Pete replies, Amy scoffing at their sibling banter.

“That’s enough, she just got back. Be nice to each other. How was everyone's day?” Amy asks, trying to motivate some decent dinner conversation.

When you made it back downstairs Pete gave you a glare that said you were on very thin ice tonight. He made his way over to the couch, taking a seat, his legs slightly spread with his feet planted on the ground.

“Do you want me-”

“Get on your fucking knees and suck. My. Dick.” He demands, making it obvious that tonight would not be the night to disobey.

Your hands worked quickly, unbuckling his pants and pulling them not halfway down his thighs before pulling his underwear down just enough for his thick member to spring out. You quickly got to work teasing him, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking it in your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks, moving down a bit before coming back up and repeating, taking your time with him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna tease me? You wanna play that game right now?” Pete says, you toss the words around in your head for a moment before deciding that you had probably gotten yourself in enough trouble for tonight. You began bobbing your head slowly, letting his hand on the back of your head set the pace.

“Hmm, that's right,” he groaned “apologize to daddy.”

Every once in a while he would push down unexpectedly and you’d gag, on the other hand sometimes you’d go too far down for his liking and he’d pull you back by your hair. He was making sure that you knew every aspect of tonight was going to be for his pleasure, down to how you sucked his dick. It was so hot.

By the time he pulled you off you were wet in more ways than one, both your face and his lower half covered in your spit.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” He says, reaching down to slip his fingers between your legs, sliding his digits against your core, sliding one in slowly before immediately removing it.

“So wet too, barely even touched you,” He slips his finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste “I need to taste you.” He groans, his grip on your hair not faltering as he pulls you up to lean against the arm of the couch, burying his tongue deep inside your soaking wet cunt. Desperate moans and words of encouragement slip past your lips as he works you with his tongue, his hand slipping under your, well, his shirt, massaging your breast. You whine as he sits up to take it completely off, the moment over before it really began.

“Stay here,” He says, walking into the other room.

You sat patiently for what was beginning to feel like forever, facing the couch as you wondered what he was doing. You could hear him shuffling around in the other room, presumably looking for something.

What was taking him so long? You’d both been waiting the same amount of time for this, you arguably longer than him, and he had barely even touched you yet. It was only fair, you thought, that since you’d helped him out a bit that you help yourself.

You check that he isn’t walking back into the room as you slip your hand between your legs, letting out a small breath through parted lips as you rub yourself through your underwear. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until your hips were rocking against your hand, trying desperately to give yourself what Pete could so effortlessly. Your mind wandered back to you on the bed, moments before your friends arrived, your orgasm slowly approaching when

There was a knock on the door.

Pete must’ve forgotten his keys, you thought. You scanned the room for something to cover up with, quickly grabbing one of Pete’s shirts he had lazily discarded on the couch the night prior.

The metal of the door handle was cool as you wrapped your hand around it, a stark contrast to that of your skin, pulling the door open. A moment of shock washing over you as you’re met with the sight of three of your bestfriends standing in front of you in the cool, dark night. You stutter out a quick invitation inside from the cold and a question of what they’re doing here.

You shook the thought away, returning to what you had been thinking of before they arrived.

The kiss was messy and desperate, a perfect representation of the way you both were feeling. His hands were all over you, slipping your shirt over your head while you worked on unbuttoning his pants. You needed him so badly, and from the looks of the bulge protruding from his underwear, he needed you just as much. Your lips were on his neck while his hand made its way around to grope your ass, love bites joining his circle of tattoos as he squeezed, your flushed skin warming his cold hands.

“I don’t remember asking you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt a hand around your neck, a newfound confidence washing over you now that your mind wasn’t so clouded by need.

“I don’t remember you touching me.” You quip, your eyes meeting as he uses his grip on your neck to force your gaze up to him. He tilts his head, looking down at you

“I suggest you shut the fuck up before you land yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.” He says, his voice stern

“I suggest you fucking make me.” You say, his hand quickly coming behind your head to wrap your hair in a makeshift ponytail, his other grabbing his dick and shoving it down your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes water as he roughly fucks your throat, cautious to keep your mouth open as to not hurt him. There’s a string of spit from your mouth to his tip when he pulls away, leaving your throat burning.

He returns to his place on the couch and you begin positioning yourself back between his legs, assuming he wants you to continue.

“No. On my lap.” He says, glaring down at you. You stand, confused, as you take your seat on his thigh, your eyes not leaving his. He rolls his eyes, readjusting you so you’re laying on your stomach, flat across his lap.

“I know you don’t know how to listen, but I know for a fact you know how to count.” He says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. You lay silently, waiting for the next when he continues in a rather condescending tone.

“One.” another harsh smack

“One.” You repeat, unsure of yourself.

“Was that one or was it two?” He asks,

“It was three.” You whisper

“Restart.” He says, his hand colliding harshly as ever.

By the time you count out fifteen your ass is red and your eyes prickling with tears. You begin pathetically begging him to leave it there,

“I’ll be a good girl daddy, I promise.” You whine.

“Hm, should’ve thought about that a little sooner.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit up.

He positions himself so he’s leaning against the arm of the couch, reaching to the side and grabbing the bottle of lube he had left the room for. It makes a clicking sound as he opens it, pouring a small amount on his hand. When he’s satisfied he motions for you to come over, your legs spread as you stand on your knees overtop him. He pulls you down into a kiss, his hands reaching behind you and spreading the lube in and around your tight hole. You sit back up when he’s done, watching as he strokes his hard dick, distributing what was left of the lube onto the red and swollen member.

Pete sits up, moving behind you and pushing your face into the couch cushion, pulling your hips into the air. You pull your lip between your teeth as he lines himself up with your ass, his eyes focused on where you’re about to meet as he slowly sinks himself into you, A whimper falling from your mouth as you struggle to take him. He stalls his actions, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to move back against him before he continues.

Pete can’t help the groan that erupts from his throat when he begins pumping in and out of you, mesmerized by the moans that are slipping past your lips as he finds his rhythm, his hand snaking around your waist to play with your clit.

Pete was always big, no matter how you were taking him, whether it was your mouth or your wet pussy or your ass, but his length and girth were much more noticeable during anal. It still felt good, of course, just different.

You feel the hand that was resting on your ass make its way up your back, wrapping itself around your neck and pulling you up so your back was pressed flush against his chest. You could feel the sweat building between you two, acting as encouragement and lubrication as you moved against one another. You struggled to catch your breath as his grip tightened, choking you and tilting your head up.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, spitting in your mouth, his spit tasting of you, his hands working magic on your clit as he pounds harshly at your ass all swirling together into one feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum.” You manage to slur out, your head being pulled back by your makeshift ponytail

“Excuse me? You aren’t gonna do shit without asking me first.”

“Sorry, p-please, can I please cum daddy, please.” you beg, quick to cover up your mistake in fear that he’ll deny your orgasm. By some stroke of miracle, Pete was in a good mood, so he decides to take your pleas to heart and continues until you’re unravelling around him, your legs giving out as he mercilessly pounds you into the couch. He follows soon after, pulling out and unloading himself on your back.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, his hand lovingly stroking your thigh as he sits on your legs. You turn over a bit once you’ve calmed down, careful not to get any of his cum on the couch.

“Ah, shit. Sorry. Here.” He says, reaching over to grab his shirt and wipe it up for you.

“Wow, you're such a romantic.” You remark.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson smut #pete davidson fic #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson fanfiction

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redfoxgaming41 · 4 years ago

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The boys finding out you can speak Russian. (BAYVERSE)

I decided to do this because I’m Russian but I will also do one where it isn’t a specific language.

Leo

-So, it all started when you and Raph were arguing

-Usually your Russian slips when you’re really angry or annoyed but since the boys didn’t know you could speak Russian you just calmed yourself before you slipped

-Leo was in the kitchen letting you two argue but is ready to step in if things get out of control until this happens

“It’s not fair! He’s always telling us all what to do and what to say and what not! We want to make our own decisions too!”

“Лео — старший брат из всех вас! Конечно, он будет главным, потому что он более зрелый и лучше обученный! Ребята, он хочет, чтобы вы были в безопасности, и он хочет быть хорошим братом и лидером для всех вас!”

(Leo is the older brother out of all of you! Of course he will be the one in charge because he is more mature and better trained! He wants you guys to be safe and he wants to be a good brother and leader to you all!)

-Raph and Leo both stared at you in shock and confusion

“What..?”

-You then kinda calm down and tell him what you said in English and then leave to go cool down for a bit

-When Leo thinks you’re ready to talk he comes in and asks what language were you speaking during the argument

-You told him it’s Russian and that you were both born and raised in Russia before you came to America

-He is impressed and proud of you

Raph

-You were talking on the phone to your Russian Babushka (Grandma) when he overheard

“Да, бабушка, я в порядке. Да, у меня есть парень. Мне придётся спросить его, не хочет ли он ��стретиться с тобой. Хорошо, Пока Я люблю тебя”

(Yes grandma, I’m fine. Yeah, I have a boyfriend. I’ll have to ask him if he would like to meet you. Okay, Bye. I love you.)

-You hung up the phone and turned around before being met with your lovely turtle boyfriend

“What language was that?”

-You told him that your Grandmother only spoke Russian so your mother taught you how to speak Russian in order to communicate with your grandmother

-You also told him that your grandma wants to meet him

-He wasn’t to sure on that idea

Donnie

-You tend to curse in Russian, whether it be you stubbed your toe or you just really hate someone

-You were in Donnies lab reading a book while he drew some new blueprints

-Somebody started calling you so you picked up your phone and saw your ex-best friends number

-You groaned quietly before picking up

-She started bitching right away and you were getting really annoyed with her bitching towards your friends

-You hung up on her and blocked her number while saying something Donnie didn’t know you could say

“Чертова сука, почему она не может просто заткнуться на хрен и оставить моих друзей в покое? Раздражающая задница сука”

(Fucking bitch, why can’t she just shut the fuck up and leave my friends alone. Annoying ass bitch.)

“Woah! First, when did you learn Russian? And second slow down on the cursing a bit.”

-You told him that your whole family speaks Russian and only know the word “Hello” in English and Russian is just how you communicate with them. But in America you only speak Russian when you curse.

-He was impressed and made sure not to get you angry

Mikey

-Mikey was playing video games while you and his brothers watched him

-Soon April and Casey came by the lair

-You didn’t like Casey all that much and whenever he was with you alone you would always tell him random stuff in Russian, or just flat out insult him

-But today you decided to do it in front of everybody

“Похоже, сумасшедший хоккеист вернулся, потому что он всегда собирается вернуться, как надоедливый побочный персонаж.”

(Looks like the crazy hockey man is back, because he is always going to fucking come back like the annoying side character he is.)

-Casey looked at you confused like always and the brothers and April stared at you in shock

“What? I learned Russian when I was in high school, why can’t I insult people sometimes with it!”

-Mikey loved when you spoke Russian, even if he didn’t understand what you were saying

#tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt michelangelo

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bitchloveskcbaseball · 5 years ago

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Bar Trouble

Pairing: Bryce x MC

A/N #1: This one-shot is my submission for @wackydrabbles prompt #46: Wait! We have to go back.

A/N #2: I wanted to try something a little bit different (for me) with this one - wanted to take this on from an “outside” perspective, so I wrote if from Sienna’s perspective. It’s probably weird, but that just suits my personality lmao

Warnings: Nothing too serious - just a few curse words

Word Count: 1025 (I swear...I really did try lol)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry

“Okay, guys. I think we all need to head for home. We all have an early shift tomorrow.”

“Ugh, Sienna!”

“No, Casey. Sienna’s right. We need to get your drunk ass home before you pass out. I am not carrying you home from the station again,”

Sienna narrowed her eyes at Jackie, knowing that a pissed off Casey was going to be harder to wrangle out of the bar. They needed to get her out of there fast, before the situation had a chance to spiral. Jackie just shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes, having lost the patience to deal with Casey’s non-sense several weeks earlier.

It took more coaxing than it should have, but the group was finally making their way out of Donahue’s about thirty minutes later, with Sienna hanging back to make sure that Casey was following Elijah and Jackie without gawking around too much. She couldn’t help but lament Aurora’s night shift keeping her from joining the outing, not only because she missed her company, but also because she had managed to figure out how to wrangle Casey when she got like this.

Shaking her head to stay focused on the task at hand, Sienna jogged to catch back up so she was walking alongside Casey. All was going well – they had even made it to the subway station – and she was starting to relax until Casey came to an abrupt halt.

“Wait! We have to go back!”

Irritation laced Sienna’s tone as she scolded, “Casey, c’mon. We are not going back for more drinks!”

“No. It’s not that! I forgot my purse in the booth!”

Even as Sienna shot Jackie a warning glare, she still hissed, “And this is why I said we needed to cut her off three rounds earlier!”

Apparently oblivious to the tension around her, Casey whined, “Guys! I can’t leave my purse there!”

“Do you really need us to go back with you?”

“It’s roomie night, Elijah!”

Knowing she couldn’t let Casey go by herself and that the other two were at their wits end already, Sienna sighed, “Ugh, Jackie, Elijah, you guys stay here. If we don’t make it back before the train gets here, just go on without us. We’ll take a cab, okay?”

“Fine by me. You go babysit the hot-mess express over there.”

Sienna shot another glare at Jackie behind Casey’s back before she looped their arms together and forced a cheerful note into her tone. “Seems like I never get time with my bestie anymore. How could I pass this up?”

“Awwww! Aren’t you just the sweetest!” Leaning down, Casey planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Oh, honey. We really need to stop letting you drink so much.”

Casey’s words slurred together as she tried to respond, but Sienna was fairly certain she was trying to say, “But I’m having so much fun!”

Rather than upset the sometimes-volatile drunk Casey, Sienna just patted her arm and gave her a warm smile. It took longer than it should have to walk back across the street to Donahue’s with Casey stumbling every few steps, but they finally walked back through the front doors just as Sienna heard their train arriving back at the station. Biting back a groan of frustration, she set about scanning the bar, her eyes instantly finding the exact reason she’d known they needed to get Casey out of the bar earlier. She tried to steer her away so that Casey wouldn’t also see, but when she heard the gasp beside her, she knew her efforts had failed.

“That…that’s why you wanted to leave, isn’t it?” There was such an intense amount of pain in that one sentence that it pulled a soft sigh out of Sienna.

“Yeah, hon. I…I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

“Why does he have to bring her here?”

Turning to face Casey, she tried to break her gaze away from the corner booth where Bryce was cozied up with his new girlfriend. “Casey. This is his hangout after work too. You don’t get to claim it all for yourself.”

“I know,” Casey whined, “but he doesn’t have to bring her!”

“Oh, for crying out loud! You told him he was getting too serious. You broke up with him. What did you expect would happen?” She knew that Casey was hurting, but it was hard to still be sympathetic all these months later when it really was her fault that she was in this position at all.

“But…he said he loved me. How…how does he already have someone new if he loved me?”

Running a hand down her face, Sienna prayed for patience. She could hear the tears in Casey’s voice and did not want to have to deal with her breaking down in the middle of the bar. “Honey, let’s just grab your purse then we can get out of here, okay?”

“No! I…I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind!”

Grabbing hard onto Casey’s arm, Sienna gave up all pretenses of being nice and understanding. “No. You will not! You broke that sweet man’s heart once and I refuse to let you mess up whatever good thing he’s got going now. You had your chance and you fucking blew it. Now you have to deal with the consequences! So go get your goddamn purse and we are going home. And this is the last time that I deal with your drunk ass whining about missing Bryce. Am I clear?”

For just a moment, Sienna felt guilty as she saw the tears shimmering in Casey’s eyes, but she shoved that aside, knowing that this is something they all should have said to her months ago. This ridiculous pity party needed to end and if being a bitch is what it was going to take, so be it.

After retrieving her purse from the bartender, Casey shoved past Sienna wordlessly and made her way back out onto the sidewalk. It wasn’t until the cab pulled up outside their apartment building that Casey finally broke the silence, muttering brokenly, “I’m sorry Sienna. I just…didn’t realize how much I loved him…”

Tag List: @burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld @darley1101 @lahellacute @mrsdrlahela @mvalentine

#wacky drabbles #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #choices

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rebyell · 5 years ago

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Chicago Fire Fic: What Was and What Should Be, Ch. 1

Sylvie tried to find something to say that was light and encouraging. She actually appreciated that she was now one of the people Casey leaned on the most at 51 – he didn’t really have anyone outside the house, and he’d admitted that with Kidd having moved in to Severide’s place, he felt awkward talking to Severide about much, like he was horning in on their couple time. So he was going out more, trying to ‘move on’ apparently while also staying out of their way, working long hours on construction projects so he was only really sleeping there, but Sylvie really wanted to be encouraging his pursuit of happiness, not be a jealous meanie, who thought he was hot, and kind, and sweet, and hot – how had she not noticed how handsome he was when he was married? She’d been so convinced that he was so lucky to have Gabby, but damn, Gabby had been lucky to have him, too. So Matt was talking to her now, not Severide. This time, it had been an insensitive bitch (Sylvie’s thoughts, not his) who had basically cut him off at the knees when he mentioned he had a roommate. They’d been going out three weeks (Casey’s attempts at being discrete were ruined by the perpetual gossip queens at 51, so this was not news), and the woman had wanted to go back to his, and he’d gotten to the fact he was living with a friend (he had not, he said, gotten to the whole ‘I lost everything I owned in a fire and insurance is insisting that the court case be finished before officially determining I wasn’t the arsonist’). Apparently, he’d passed along, having a roommate at 37 made him a ‘loser’ who was ‘immature, financially unstable, or worse, both’ and that he’d never find a normal woman who’d date a guy nearing 40 who didn’t at least have his shit together enough to live on his own. She could imagine Matt, sweet, solemn, genuinely-cares-about-what-you’re-saying, and much more sensitive than most people knew Matt Casey, listening to a woman he liked call him a loser and then getting stuck with the dinner-and-drinks bill, and here he was, of course, blaming himself, believing this woman (though he didn’t say as much, it was pretty obvious, and she was drunk, so it must be really obvious) and it made her mad. Very mad. He was such a decent guy, and that face, and he was nicely built, and he was not a loser at all – even when she was sober she totally did not think he was a loser at all. He was kind and warm and very responsible and very mature and very hot. Okay, she was drunk, and focusing on the ‘attractive’ thing a little too much.

“You don’t have to disagree with her, you know.” Matt managed a sad attempt at a half-smile. Her confusion must have shown on her face. “You look like you’re trying to come up with a nice, supportive, Sylvie Brett way of saying she’s right – of all the fish in the sea, I’m the worst catch, so to speak.”

“Uhm, no, not what was I thinking at all. Trust me, you have to scrape the bottom of a really deep barrel to be the worst catch in the sea.” She meant that, truly, there were a surprisingly high number of shitty people in the dating pool. Like apparently this Miranda woman he’d been seeing. Seeing the look on his face, she kept going, “Not that you’re a bad catch at all, Matt Casey. You’re kind, and sweet, and very handsome, and you’ve got a good job – two good jobs really, so bonus for that – and you’re a great friend, and you have the most amazing eyes, has anyone told you that?” “You’ve been trying to keep up with Foster again, haven’t you?” He asked, a more genuine smile spreading across his face.

“No, well, yes, but she bought and she kept buying, before she left to go to some thing for a friend or with a friend or about a friend.” Sylvie explained. “But me being drunk is not why you have beautiful eyes. You just do. Me being drunk might be why I’m saying it though. But it’s better than saying the other thing I was thinking, so it’s okay, because the other thing I was thinking is you’re hot. And that would be awkward. Maybe. If you’re not okay with that. Not with being hot, I guess you’re okay with that, you’ve probably been hot like your entire life, but with me saying it.”

“Were you drinking beer all night?” He gestured to what was in her hand. She didn’t follow his jump in topic, but oh well.

“What? This?” She glanced at the bottle. “No. After round three of whiskey, I told Foster I had to switch to beer.” “Three? And how many beers?” “This is my third, but I’ve had like…two sips out of it. You’re not going to buy me a drink, are you?” “Well, I was going to offer, since you’ve listened to me complain, but I think now I’m going to offer to take you home instead.” “See?! Nice, sweet, kind Matt Casey – definitely a good catch.”

“Yeah, nice guys, what every woman wants apparently.” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes a little. “Stay here, I’ll clear my tab with Herrmann.” “I’ll be here.” She assured, thankful a moment later that the bar was kind of loud as “enjoying the view of your butt,” slipped out because she was actually that shallow tonight, he had a nice butt. His turnout gear of course did not show it off, but sometimes his duty pants did. Tonight, his dress pants did. He’d gotten dressed up, they must’ve gone somewhere nice, and then he got dumped, and told he was a loser. He probably paid the bill, too, he was the type to always pay for a girl, definitely. Typical Casey. Treated like crap and paid for the privilege of it. He was back a minute later, she almost laughed because he’d be the type to never realize but he always got served like first in the whole place because that was just Herrmann and Otis being respectful of their boss like that – everyone in the house adored Casey, even when he was making them nuts with drills and stuff.

“What’re you grinning about?” He asked with a smile.

“You.” “Laughing at me, huh? Can’t blame you.” His smile was fake now, though.

“Sort of, but not like you think. Her loss, Matt. I mean that. Everyone here loves you and if she doesn’t, well, that’s just poop for her.” “Poop for her?” Matt laughed lightly. “You’re in a bar, you can swear.” “I don’t like to swear much.” She shrugged. “Except, well, you don’t need to know that.” “You ready to head home?” “With you?” “Well, I’m driving, but no, I’ll take you back to yours. Otis said Cruz should be back from his date with Chloe by now.” “What if he brought Chloe back to ours? He thinks Otis and I are both out for the evening.” “I’m sure they’ll be in the bedroom in that case.” He reassured as he ushered out of the bar.

“Hey, Case, ‘hawks tickets on Friday, you in?” Severide asked as they passed his table. Kidd had a weird look on her face, Sylvie couldn’t place it, but it was weird. “Section 110, 2nd row.” “Hell yes I’m in. I’m gonna take Brett home – she tried to keep up with Foster again – catch you back home.” “Sure, later.”

“You know, I think Kidd doesn’t like you living there. Or maybe she was just jealous Severide didn’t take her to the Blackhawks.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting a new place. I’ll have to rent for a while.”

“Ooh, let me help again this time! I love real estate. You should totally buy in this market, you know, you could make money on a fixer, you can do the work yourself and everything.” “I would, if I get the insurance settled. Then again, I have nothing to go in a house. Or an apartment. I don’t even own a mattress, or an entire wardrobe that doesn’t say Chicago Fire Department on it.” “Oh, I forgot for a second. Sorry. How long on that?” “Lawyers say a month or so until the case is wrapped up, so maybe six weeks.” “It’s been almost a year – since last December. Good thing you’ve got Severide.” “He’s a good friend, letting me crash in the guest room for 10 months.” Matt agreed. She looked at him, he was so earnest and kind and hot. She was stuck on the ‘hot’ tonight. Then something occurred to her.

“I just realized you sleep in the bed Kidd used to sleep in. The same sheets even. Washed but still. That’s kinda weird. I bet they had sex in her room sometimes. So like, you sleep in their bed, sort of.” “Now I’m going to be thinking about that tonight. Thanks for that.” Matt chuckled a little. They pulled up near her building. He didn’t have a parking spot, so he’d had to take what was sort of near her building. They had official visitor spots, she remembered. Too few, but it was a weeknight, so there were some left probably.

“You can go in the parking. You can have a visitor spots. I’ll give you the code. But shhh, we’re not supposed to give it out, we’re supposed to buzz you in with your phones, but I don’t know if I can type the code right right now.” “Alright, what’s the code I have to enter?” He asked, but he hadn’t moved the truck.

“Uhm, you have to be at the gate.” “I know that, I’m just not getting stuck up there and then you can’t remember it.” “Oh. I remember it! I’m not that drunk.” “You’re pretty drunk. It’s adorable but also a little concerning.” “It’s Foster’s fault. She drinks a lot. Not like at work, Captain Casey, sir. Just, like, out, she drinks more than I ever have.” “I can tell. The code?” “Oh, yeah. 03-04-18-37. Then my apartment number. Do you know that?”

“Yeah. Between you, Otis, and Cruz, it’s on a lot of paperwork I see.” “There’s an elevator. Thankfully. I’m not sure I like stairs right now.” “Probably not.” Casey agreed, as he punched in the code and the gate rolled back. He found the visitors spots easily up on the almost top bit of the parking deck. How did he know that? She got distracted, or something, because he was holding open his truck door, looking at her expectantly.

“What?” “You’re not sleeping my truck, Sylvie. Let’s go inside.” “Your truck is comfy. Not new, but reliable, comfy, lived in. Like you.” “I don’t know if that’s a compliment. Probably true, though.” Matt shook his head.

“I mean, it smells like you. Not that you’re lived in or comfy. You might be comfy. I’ve never sat on you.” She admitted as she slipped from the truck and headed towards the door into the residential part of the building. She was not sure the parking had always been this unlevel. She continued, “it smells like you. Like, good things. Like wood and sawdust and that guy smell, just whatever it is, that Matt smell that is just you, not anything else.” “I have a smell?” He caught her as she threatened to fall into him, the floor was really unlevel tonight and right in front of the elevator too, that was silly, who built it like that? “mm-hmm. It’s nice. See you smell like it right now. Sort of. You wore cologne though. It covers it up. It’s nice cologne, but I miss you smell.” “I did have a date tonight. I didn’t think ‘me smell’ was what I should go with.” “When we date, don’t bother with cologne. You smell sexier with the sawdust and you smell.” “Are we dating?” Matt asked with a chuckle. “I could stop being jealous of stupid mean women who say you’re a ‘loser’ then. And you wouldn’t get stuck paying for dinner with a woman who would call you a ‘loser’. Which isn’t good. Plus, then it wouldn’t be weird that I was checking out your butt tonight when you paid your tab.” “You were?” He wasn’t chuckling now, as they got out of the elevator on her floor. It wasn’t even many floors down from where they had been, but she was sure the stairs would be even more unlevel than the parking. “Mm-hmm. You have a cute butt in those pants. Also, you have the bluest eyes. I love your eyes. Did I say that already tonight? I’m drunk. I think I’m drunker than I think. Thought. I’m drunker enough to just decide we’re dating, so you can stop being with mean women and I can stop dealing with guys who don’t want what I want or whatever it is that means I keep ending up with guys who don’t understand me or the job. And since we’re dating, I can look at your ass and it’s not weird. And your eyes. And your…you.” “Is Cruz actually home? I could knock. I think you’re a little drunk to be left home by yourself.” “You can sleep over! If we’re dating now, it’s fine if you sleep over. Chloe sleeps over sometimes. And Lily too.” “That would probably not be a good idea.” “But if you leave, hey, what’re you doing, that’s my purse.” He just reached out and took her purse off her shoulder and was opening it. Rude. “And we’ve been standing at your door for a full minute. You have a key?” “Oh, yeah, it’s in there. Sorry.” “Let’s get you inside.” He said, as he found the key and opened the door. He guided her inside, even though she lived there. “Cruz!” He called out, but there was no answer. She figured that meant he was at Chloe’s, or maybe they were still out, it wasn’t that late, not really, she was just drunk kinda early. Because of Foster. Who was a bad influence. Whose bad influence led her to be here, being ushered around her own apartment by Matt Casey. Who was also her boss. Sort of. Not really. So it wasn’t a conflict really because he couldn’t give orders to ambo. Except sometimes. And he processed all their personnel paperwork and stuff. So some authority. But that didn’t mean he was her boss and she shouldn’t be attracted to him because of rules. He smelled good. Sexy. And he was probably really well built. She’d never actually seen him shirtless. But he had to be. She wanted to know. “Let’s get you some water.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. Even his voice was sexy. “I’m not thirsty. I had lots of liquid, too much, I mean.” She was pretty sure if she drank anything more, she’d start to feel sick. Plus, she kind of didn’t want to sober up just yet. She was enjoying the feelings of being close to him. “You’re drunk.” Matt reminded. “water will help.” “But if I get less drunker, I won’t have the guts to do this.” She said, then practically fell into him to kiss him. Maybe it was his body heat, or his smell, or his Matt Casey-ness, but she was drunk enough to go with it and worry about whatever later, so she kissed him, good and long and hard. She kissed him and enjoyed that he kissed back and he was good at it. He kissed like he did everything else, like it was the only thing on the planet going on right at that moment, and damn it, she wanted him, wanted to throw him on the nearest surface and just kiss him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen. She always got wet easily when she was drunk, and she could feel herself getting really turned on, and she pushed impossibly closer to him, her hands roaming, trying to get their fill of him, all the things forbidden to her before right now, and speaking of forbidden, she fumbled at his fly, damn dress pants were harder to get than jeans, and she mostly ended up groping him through his pants, but just for a second because then his hands grabbed her wrists, firmly but not too hard, and he was pushing her away from him, which caused her to whine – she didn’t mean to, but she didn’t want to be away from his heat and his smell and his Matt Casey-ness.

“Not tonight, Sylvie.” “Why not?” “You’re too drunk to make this sort of decision.” He paused. “And I’m not the kind of guy who takes one woman to dinner and sleeps with a different woman on the same night.” “She should’ve hit that then, her loss.” “If you really want this,” Matt sighed, but smiled at her, “you’ll still want it when you’re sober. I respect you way too much, and value our friendship too much, to not wait for sober enthusiastic consent. I mean, I always do, would, but especially with you.” “Why are you such a good guy?” She asked, half in complaint, half out of just sheer affection for this sweet, solemn, lovely man. Who was also really hot, hence her half complaint. “But I think I love it about you, you know? You’re good. Not nice, I mean, you’re nice, but you’re not nice like you have good manners and act the part, you’re good. Down to your bones. Do you know that? You’re good down to your bones, Matt Casey, and that’s why I love you. Well, that and you’re hot with beautiful eyes.” “Let’s get you to bed. With some water. I’ll text Cruz, see where he’s at.” “Don’t bother him, he’s with Chloe. Otis will be home at like 3. I’ll be fine. Or you could stay.” “On the sofa.” He gave her a sharp look, as her hands wandered down his body again. She couldn’t help it. He should be touched. She was drunk, but she also noticed that while his mouth said ‘no’ his body was saying ‘yes’ – he liked being touched.

“With me.” She shook her head. “Not like…I respect your ‘no’. Just in the bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “You don’t trust me?” “Drunk? Not entirely.” He chuckled. “So you’re good and you’re smart.” She laughed. “But I promise. No roving hands tonight. But I want a cuddle. Just a cuddle. I miss the cuddling.” “Yeah, it’s hard to go back to sleeping alone. Come on, this is you, right?” He gestured to the bedroom he’d led them down the hall to. She nodded.

“That’s me. I’m gonna brush my teeth first. Be right back.”

“I’ll get that glass of water.” She came into the bedroom, unsurprised to find he’d already turned back the covers. He was the type to do that. He was also the type, it turned out, to turn around when she started changing clothes. Which she’d probably appreciate when she was sober, but tonight it was just silly and adorable. She’d let him see the whole show anyway. She was in her PJs, nearly fell into bed, then looked up at him.

“Your turn. Oh, I could get something from Cruz’s room for you-“ “It’s fine. I’ve slept worse.” He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes from what she could tell and guess. She couldn’t see it, the angle was bad and his shoulders were between her eyes and his actions and oooh, he had nice shoulders. He took off the outer, nice, shirt he was wearing, too.

“Your pants.” She prompted, then explained at his look. “I mean, they’re nice, don’t wrinkle them. I promise to keep my hands to myself, you can take your pants off. Though I’ll be tempted. It felt nice, the like second I touched it.” “Thanks, I think.” He chuckled again. “You know, this sort of thing is easier when you girls crash at a guy’s – I can just give you some boxers and an old t-shirt.” “I could give you my underwear.” She laughed. “I don’t think it’d suit you.”

“Or fit.” He grinned.

“Take your pants off. Unless you’re not wearing underwear. That might be too much temptation.”

“You’ve known me for almost five years.” He laughed, shaking his head. He also stood to remove his pants, and she unashamedly checked out his ass. “If you think not wearing underwear is an option, you don’t know me nearly well enough for us to do this. Or even think about going where all that kissing out in the living room was going.” “You’ve never not worn underwear?” “You have? I mean, gone out with no underwear?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’. “It was kind of a dare. But it felt kind of…naughty and I kind of liked it.” “Damn it.” He blushed a little, but she didn’t know why.

“I was just joking.” She reassured, not wanting him to think she didn’t know him very well. “I mean, I totally did that, but I mean I knew you’d be wearing underwear. I even knew it would be black boxer briefs, plain black, always, and always Jockey. Dawson joked about how predictable you are.” She realized he looked taken aback or something and he was definitely blushing more now. “I just mean I know who you are, Matt Casey.” “Yeah.” “And you are comfy and warm and you smell good and I’m drunk enough to ask so just get over here for cuddles.” “Drink some of that water. I’ll stay until Otis or Cruz gets home, okay?”

#chicago fire fic #brettsey

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poisxnyouth · 6 years ago

Text

neighbors. chapter 1. (d.d)

A/N: There are 3 shows that inspire this: Sex and the City, Gossip Girl, and Mad Men. 3 of my favorite shows ever. I haven’t written anything in a really long time and this is (essentially) my first David fic! Enjoy! If you feel like something isn’t in character or notice any inconsistencies or just plain don’t like it, don’t be afraid to let me know! I appreciate all criticism. <3 Thank you to @alrightinbed-betterwithapen for getting me into writing again!! Endless love to her.

Warnings: Drinking, implied underage drinking, and cursing. Nothing too crazy!

You had lived your entire life in classic Manhattan wealth. You were never groomed with the trivial perfect grades, perfect outfits, and Ivy League expectations that the kids in your school had to deal with. Your parents put you in a private school with uniforms, allowing you to choose what you wanted in life. This nonchalant parenting pushed you to meet the expectations your peers had set. It had, luckily, worked out for you. You maintained a 5.0 GPA throughout high school and did anything you could to meet Ivy League alumni through Manhattan’s elite. You breezed your way through Yale Admissions, just as your parents had, and majored in Psychology in conjunction with a minor in French. Your parents were very proud of you, of course, and you quickly got a job in Los Angeles fresh off the graduation stage. You were an intern at an advertising firm on Madison Avenue in high school, allowing you to gain interest and experience in the copywriting world. With a full book of advertising copy, your knowledge of psychology aided you in producing better work. You were now the youngest creative director in the entirety of Los Angeles at a top-notch advertising firm. You made good money and it came in fast, so fast that you had managed to go from a studio apartment in Downtown LA to putting a down payment on a $2 million-dollar house in the Hills (with some help from your parents). Everything had worked out as you had planned. You had (mostly) worked for everything you got, and you were proud of it.

Your friends had followed a similar path with varying backgrounds. Francine, from a poor family in Brooklyn, had been put in your school so she could have a promising future. She used it to her advantage. Tessa had come from an even richer family than yours, her father a real estate mogul; mother, an immigration lawyer. Sienna moved to Manhattan freshman year of high school, from a middle-class family with ultimately no connections in the Big Apple. It was fine, she quickly adjusted and met many people through you and your friends’ parents. All 4 of you had worked hard throughout the 4 years you had spent together, rotating sleepovers in you and Tessa’s penthouses, Sienna’s apartment, and Francine’s loft. You had, way too often, fallen asleep together with your heads stuffed in AP textbooks. You had all earned an Ivy League admission: You, Yale; Francine, Dartmouth; Tessa, Harvard; and Sienna, Princeton. You stayed in touch all of university, meeting up in the heart of Manhattan every Saturday to go shopping on Fifth Avenue. You made the distance work. Francine is now a graphic designer; Tessa is an intern at Vogue, hoping to soon be an editor; and Sienna is an archivist at the Met. You didn’t have time to keep up with social situations outside of those 3 women.

“We miss you in New York, Y/N! You need to visit! How’s that neighbor of yours coming along?” Your best friends are screaming into the tiny speaker on Francine’s phone. You can practically see the group of girls huddled together on a street in the Upper East Side, arms filled with shopping bags as they listen intently to your voice.

“I don’t know, guys. He’s cute. Like, really cute. I just wish I knew who he was. He’s so young! Like, our age at the most. What could he possibly do for a living? There’s always something going on at his house. I swear, yesterday I saw at least 30 people over there holding a bunch of balloons and fireworks went off.”

“Maybe he’s one of those Youtuber people?” Tessa suggested.

“Hmm…,” you’re flipping through your mail, phone balanced between your shoulder and ear. “He could be. He always has a camera in his hand. God, he’s hot.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how are you so smart but so stupid? He’s a Youtuber!” Tessa chimed in once more.

“Is that supposed to be a big deal? Like, do they make a lot of money?”

“Uh, yeah. If they’re really big, they make bank. There are a few in New York. I think Casey Neistat is the biggest one on the East Coast, but most of the Youtubers live in LA. So, if he lives in your neighborhood, he probably is pretty huge.”

“I mean I don’t really care who he is – fuck, you guys!” you groan exasperatedly.

“What happened?” they questioned in unison.

“I got his mail on accident! I have to go over there! Oh my gosh, his name is David.”

“Oooo, Daaaavviiiidd!” they mocked. You separate your mail from his and huff in response.

“Y/N, are you seriously neighbors with David Dobrik?”

“I don’t know who that is, Francine. It only says David Smith on all the labels. I’m not going to worry about it, guys. He’s just eye candy. He’s too annoying as a neighbor.” Francine immediately reprimands you for not knowing who he is.

“Yeah, okay, Y/N. You’re gonna go over there, give him his mail, and go home and write about your wet dream of him. Imagine this on the headlines: Y/N Writes Fanfiction About Famous Youtuber?!” Sienna is laughing into the shared speaker.

“You guys are bitches!” you giggled, “I have to go do this. Pray for me! I love you!” They respond with I love you’s and making kissy noises into the phone.

You rang the doorbell nervously and smooth your hair down in the reflection of his glass door, fiddling with the corner of your neighbor’s envelopes in your hands. You can feel the corners going soft from your sweaty fingertips. You hear a throaty voice yell, “NATALIE! DOOR!” If that’s David, he already sounds like a dick. A pretty girl in her pajamas rounds the corner, smiling when she sees you. You’re slightly disappointed. This Natalie must be his girlfriend.

“Hey! What’s up?” she says as she opens the door.

“Um, I’m your neighbor, Y/N! I, um, I think I got your mail? But you don’t really look like a David Smith, so maybe not?”

“Oh, no! That’s us. It’s for my boss, David Dobrik. It’s his cover name.” “Boss?” you question, feeling a little nosy. She doesn’t seem bothered, it seems like she must explain this often. You hear his name and clock it, knowing full well you’ll most likely forget it.

“Yeah,” she admits sheepishly. “David’s my boss – I’m his assistant.”

“Oh! Cool,” you kind of want to keep the conversation going; she’s nice! “There’s always something going on here!” you laugh a little.

“Yeah, but you know David…”

“I actually don’t! What does he do?” She seems surprised.

“He’s a Youtuber! I’ve been his friend since we were little, so it’s really awesome to see him grow like this.”

“Oh, sweet! Is he single?” The question flies out before you can think twice. Your eyes widen a little bit, breaking eye contact.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That just came out-“

“It’s fine! Yes, he’s single. You wanna meet him? He’s a little busy right now, but-“

“Oh my gosh, no! I mean, I just see him sometimes and he’s really cute. I was just curious.”

As soon as you say this, the man comes from a side hallway in the house. He walks to the door as Natalie nods understandingly.

“Hey! Who’s this?” He recognizes you as his neighbor, but he doesn’t say it. He just wants to know your name.

“This is Y/N, she’s our neighbor,” Natalie says. His eyes widen a little bit as he’s shaking your hand.

“David. Nice to meet you,” he’s leaning into the door frame now; arms crossed, chapped lips, messy hair, sweatpants, and all. It’s nice to get a closer look at him. He watches your eyes as you scan him up and down, causing him to smirk and look away.

“You wanna come in?” he offers. Your heart almost stops.

“Oh, it’s okay – I don’t want to intrude, and I have to get back to work anyways,” you attempt to rattle off excuses. He cocks his head and looks at you again.

“What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising,” you say, playing with your hands nervously. His eyes catch it.

“How’d you get that gig?”

“Um, I grew up and went to school in Manhattan, got admitted into Yale and graduated with a degree in psychology. I interned with an agency in high school and I really loved it, so I used psychology to help me write better copy,” the words tumble out too quickly and you almost feel stupid to spill so much. You try to push it out of your mind; you worked for what you achieved, you’re allowed to brag. He almost seems impressed.

“You live alone?”

You nod, almost feeling like you’re being interrogated.

“David, just let her go home,” Natalie gives you an apologizing look. She wants to snicker at how flustered you became when he showed up.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Have a nice day, Y/N. You can come over whenever you want!” He’s almost shutting the door before Natalie stops him.

“Hey, can I get your number? We should hang out sometime.” You say of course and David’s watching as you type your number into her phone.

“Thanks! I’ll see you later, Y/N.” The door closes as you bid them goodbye and you almost want to die from humiliation. You facepalm as you walk out of their driveway.

You can’t stop yourself from speed dialing Francine’s number as soon as you walk through your front door. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hey, girl! How’d it go?”

“Are you still with the girls?”

“Yeah, I’ll put you on speaker,” she replies before you hear all the girls individually say their hello’s.

“You guys…I met him. Oh my god, he’s so hot, I think I’m going to cry. He’s a stunner.”

“What’s his name? Is he who I said he is? David Dobrik?” Francine asks, desperate to be correct.

“Um...His assistant said his name…I think that was it?”

“You’re going to gush about how hot he is, but you don’t even remember his name?” Sienna questions.

“I was too busy freaking out! When he introduced himself, all he said was David!”

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/N! Walk us through what happened,” Tessa says coolly.

I launch myself onto my couch with a big sigh before I begin explaining.

“So, Y/N seemed to be into you…” Natalie blurts later that night as David edits. He shrugs.

“David! You need to date somebody! She’s pretty!”

“You know I don’t have time! I don’t even get the vlogs up when I should.”

“Okay, and? All you do since Liza broke up with you is work! You know you deserve better.”

“Natalie, she’s probably not even into me, like, pretty sure she just has anxiety. She was fidgeting the whole time.”

“What do you mean, ‘She’s probably not even into me?’ She asked me if you were single!” Natalie mocks his voice, going deeper than she needs to. He rolls his eyes in response, wanting the conversation to be finished.

“Just think about it, Dave. She’s smart, she went to Yale for God’s sake! Obviously, she cares about her job, juuuust like you do! I think you should ask her on a date.”

“She has a different dude over like, every night,” he grumbles.

“Oh, so you pay attention? And so what? They could be coworkers. Don’t be stupid, Dave.”

“I’m not asking her out on a date,” he affirms.

“Fine, I’m inviting her over.” He rolls his eyes again, making it a point to force his eyes to go as far back as possible while telling Natalie to go ahead.

“Hey Y/N! It’s Natalie. You wanna come over and have a few drinks?” The text shows up on your phone as you’re about to go to bed. You can’t push yourself to decline the invitation. A few drinks sound nice, anyway. You had learned how to hold your liquor your sophomore year of college, going through a partying phase, spending nearly every possible free night at a frat house.

You get dressed (again) and make your way to David’s house, ringing the doorbell. You see David’s head on the couch as Natalie rises from her spot to come to the door.

“Hey! Come in!” you step in, recognizing it’s a shoe off house. You wordlessly oblige as Natalie makes small talk with you.

“So, how’d you end up in LA from New York?” She leads you to the kitchen, taking out a stout glass of the dark cabinets for the each of you.

“I kept copywriting through college, so as soon as I graduated, I sent my portfolio to as many advertising agencies as I could. The agency I work for now is actually an extension of the New York office I interned for in high school, so I guess someone in New York saw my book in the stack and pulled some strings.” Natalie has now worked her way over to the stocked bar of liquor, responding with multiple mmhmm’s.

“What do you drink?”

“Vodka.” She nods and nearly makes your glass overflow.

“You seem like you need it,” she says pathetically, handing you the cup.

“Oh, believe me, I do,” you admit, ingesting half the glass in one swallow. You wince a little bit at the taste.

Your eyes scan around the room for David, but it seems he must’ve left to go somewhere else in the house.

“So, you think David is cute!” She breaks the silence, knowing what you’re thinking, “I can hook you guys up. He needs somebody.” You blush and tap your fingers on the glass.

“Oh, I mean…Yeah, he’s cute. But I don’t really have time for anyone, I’m working a lot.” She leads you to the sectional couch, pulling a blanket over her lap. You sit a few cushions away from her.

“You sound like him!” It makes you laugh slightly. “I’m serious! That’s exactly what he would say.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s editing right now. It usually takes him all night.”

“Honestly, Natalie, I’ve never watched a YouTuber before or anything, so I don’t really know anything about this. Like, how big is he? And what is ‘big’ on YouTube?”

“He has 11 million subscribers, so that’s pretty big. I mean there are bigger people, of course, like Shane Dawson, but he’s good at what he does, and he works hard. He deserves everything he has.”

“Good for him,” you reply, finishing the rest of your drink. She nods her head, agreeing with you. You can’t help considering the similarities it seems like you two share. You’re both hard workers, earning (mostly) everything you have, and you’re both proud of what you do.

“Do you have any friends in LA?” Natalie questions. You shrug your shoulders, getting up to make yourself another drink and feel at home. You quickly pour yourself more vodka and return to your seat.

“Most of my friends I left back in New York. I miss them so much. I told them about David,” you admit in a whisper as she gasps, a smile spreading across her face.

“You did not! Oh my god, I really need to set you guys up now!” She’s laughing, smacking your arm jokingly.

“Shut uuuup!” You giggle, “I couldn’t help it! What would you do if you lived in another city, alone, and all of a sudden you got a cute, young, obviously successful neighbor? Whew! I couldn’t not spill it!” You’re starting to feel more comfortable in the conversation and as you continue chatting with her, the more you like her.

“What are their names?”

“Okay, so. I went to high school with all of them. There’s Francine, she went to Dartmouth and is a graphic designer. There’s Tessa, she went to Harvard and she’s an intern at Vogue. And then there’s Sienna, she went to Princeton and she’s an archivist at The Met.”

“Wow! All Ivy League.”

“We all did it together! I couldn’t have done it without them. I love them. Besides them, though, don’t really have any friends out here! I’ve never really needed more than those 3. I miss them so much.”

“Well, now you have me! I’m getting you a boyfriend, even if it’s the last thing I do,” she laughs.

“Are you and David from LA?”

She laughs into her drink, “God, no! Chicago. David and I were neighbors and went to school together since elementary school.”

“That’s so cute!”

“You haven’t known David Dobrik for almost 15 years! I swear, it’s like taking care of a baby,” she rolls her eyes.

“I HEARD THAT!” You hear a voice yell from a bedroom as you make a nervous face. What else had he heard?

“Fuck you, David!” He doesn’t respond as Natalie resumes your conversation.

“My friend, Francine, kept insisting that he was David Dobrik,” you whispered, “I don’t know how the hell she knew that. I swear, she has ESP or something. She’s just as busy as me, so it’s beyond me how she has time to watch YouTubers.”

“I mean, Y/N, he is pretty big. Like, are you sure you don’t just live under a rock?” You gasp mockingly.

“Yeah, probably. I’m a workaholic.”

“So, are you strictly a copywriter?” You shake your head no as you gulp down some of your drink.

“No, I’m a creative director. Basically, that means I give the creative presentations to the heads of businesses we represent. I also oversee all of the regular copywriters at the firm and approve everything.”

“Wait, who do you represent?”

“Um, I mean…Apple, Clearasil, Jaguar, Tesla, Maybelline, a few department stores, it really depends.”

“So, you’re the reason why David owns a Tesla?” You laugh at that.

“I mean, I could be. I don’t know. I’m just starting in the industry.”

“Holy shit. That’s so crazy!” You shrug your shoulders.

“It’s alright. I love what I do.”

“How does all of that work?”

“What? Like, the whole advertising thing?” She nods.

“So, basically,” you clear your throat, “if a firm drops an account, which is a company slash brand, or the account decides to leave a firm, then account men or women are trying their best to get a presentation for the company. Agencies are always trying to get bigger than others. The job of the account man is to have good relations with the account’s leaders, meaning they just go out on dinners or for drinks with them. They keep up appearances. It sounds easy, but I’ve seen account men cry when it doesn’t go well. While this is happening, copywriters are practically scrambling to come up with something to present. It’s chaos, but it’s so good. It’s the best feeling in the world, especially when you do win the account.”

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I mean, the hours can get pretty long, but it’s fine. I get paid well. I also get pretty much unlimited vacation and sick days, no one thinks twice about it as long as I’m not gone for weeks at a time. It’s great.”

“You’re so fucking lucky!”

You wave her off, “I don’t think so. I worked for it.” She nods again as David emerges from a bedroom.

“Hey,” he says, walking to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. Natalie looks at you, waggling her eyebrows with a giant smile on her face. You snicker a little bit and David notices.

“What’s up with the giggling? You guys talking about me?”

“No, David. Not everything is about you,” Natalie says as he throws his hands up in defense.

“I’m just saying, you guys went quiet as soon as I walked in.”

“Maybe it’s because you interrupted us,” you say, meeting his eyes. He stares blankly at you.

“I can go,” He says, smiling his stupid smile.

“We’re fucking with you, Dave. Sit down,” Natalie rolls her eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” He plops himself down on the couch pretty far away from you and Natalie.

“Y/N’s job. She’s in advertising,” Natalie seems to be bragging for you.

“Uh, yeah, I know, Nat. She said that earlier.”

“Ugh, still, Dave! I’m impressed.” David doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know enough about you.

“So, you went to Yale?” he asks. You nod. It’s quiet for a few moments.

“Y/N, we should go to New York!” Your eyes widen at Natalie’s suggestion. You had only met this girl a few hours ago, and she’s suggesting going to New York with you? You’re surprisingly open to it, not allowing yourself to say no.

“I mean, do you want to? ‘Cause I can call in tomorrow morning and we can totally spend the weekend there! You can meet the girls!”

“Uh, Natalie, you forget I’m your boss-“

“I’m also your fucking friend! Just come with!” Natalie says exasperatedly.

“Okay,” David throws his hands in the air, “Fine. Get us some flights, Natalie.”

“I don’t have my debit card on me-“

“It’s fine, Y/N, I’ve got it,” David insists.

“What? No! I can afford it!”

“I didn’t ask if you could afford it! I’m paying,” he persists. It’s kind of hot. You reluctantly mutter an okay as Natalie grabs her computer.

You ended up going home, hurriedly packing a suitcase before returning to David’s 30 minutes later. While at home, you group Facetimed all of the girls.

“Girls, I’m coming to NYC! One small catch, though…David’s coming with.”

#david dobrik fic #david dobrik #vlog squad #vlog squad fanfic #natalie mariduena #david dobrik x y/n #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik x you #david dobrik imagine #vlog squad imagine #david donrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic

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golbrocklovely · 6 years ago

Text

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter two: ain’t it fun

A/N: let me know what you think of the story so far :)

description of the story here

trigger warning: swearing, drinking, douchey guy, graphic language, light physical fighting (no blood or anything)

word count: 2589

During the car ride, I stayed silent. Corey and Casey are two of the most outgoing people I had ever met, and my introverted ass couldn't really jump in and say anything. Not that I minded, to be honest. I was kind of pissed at Casey.

How could she not tell that Corey Scherer was her best friend?

She knew that I watched him and all of the Trap House guys, and yet never mentioned he was her friend. I was conflicted... I thought we were close but maybe we weren't.

"So, Skye, what do you do for a living?" Corey asked, looking at me through his review mirror.

"Oh... I work in retail at the moment. I also do youtube on the side." I shrugged.

"Same here." He laughed.

"Yeah, me and Skye watch you all the time. Along with all your room mates." Casey replied, giggling.

"Are you a fan?" Corey questioned, smiling.

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable. "I guess you could say that. I do love your content."

He nodded. "Aw thanks. What type of stuff do you make?"

"She does amazing covers. She is seriously one of the best singers I know." Casey said, jumping in.

"You can sing? That's cool." Corey beamed.

Casey chuckled, "No seriously, she is really good. I mean, she did study musical theater in college so she better be at least somewhat good."

"Oh that's sick." Corey cheered.

While Corey and Casey went back to catching up, I looked out the window, watching the houses we passed. Everything was white and pristine. The lawns were mowed to perfection. Every so often there would be a person walking a dog.

The car came to a stop as Corey pulled into the driveway of the house we were staying at. He turned the car off and popped the trunk. All three of us slowly got out of the car. Corey helped us bring our luggage inside the house.

The house was simple but beautiful. Everything looked new: the furniture, carpets, curtains, every little detail.

Man her uncle must be really rich.

"It was good seeing you again, Casey. I gotta go pick up Devyn from the gym and then we're gonna go get something to eat. I'll see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Skye!" Corey said, giving Casey a quick hug and leaving.

Casey and I waved bye, watching Corey pull out of the driveway. Then she shut the door.

"Okay... what the fuck Casey?" I demanded.

"Alright, I know I have to explain myself. I'm sorry I never told you about Corey." She apologized, grabbing her luggage and starting to bring it to her room.

"I think you need to explain a little bit further." I crossed my arms, annoyed.

She sighed, putting her bag on her bed. "Look, back before Corey blew up on Vine, we were friends. I was even in one or two of his Vines. Because of this, when he got a following, immediately people pretended to be my friend just to get to him. Then he moved, and we remained friends, but I never told anyone I was friends with him. Then I went college and I met you. One day you brought up the Trap House and I thought 'shit she knows' but you never asked about him. Then you told me how you never followed Vine back when it was alive and that you only knew of them because of youtube. So I was in the clear..."

"I thought you trusted me a little more than that..." I muttered, looking down at the floor.

"I do trust you. I wouldn't have traveled across the country with someone I didn't trust. I just wasn't sure how to bring up the fact that I'm friends with people you stan. It would be like me telling you I'm related to the Jonas Brothers." She joked.

I looked up abruptly, "You aren't, are you? Because you know I love them."

"No I'm not." She laughed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just wasn't sure how I could tell you. Besides, seeing the look on your face when you saw Corey was kinda hilarious."

"You know what's more hilarious? Me punching you directly in the throat." I hissed jokingly.

"You're all talk." She retorted, throwing a shirt at me.

I threw the shirt back. "I wouldn't be so sure about it."

"Well, let me make it up to you. Tonight, let's go out clubbing and I'll buy you alcohol." She smiled.

"You're only suggesting that because I don't drink that much, you fucking cheapskate." I laughed.

She nodded her head, "Yes. However, I do have another gift for you."

"Oh goodie." I clapped my hands mockingly.

"How do you feel about meeting the Trap House tomorrow?" She asked, smirking.

I gulped, "What?"

"Corey and I were talking about hanging out tomorrow. He told me all the guys are gonna be home and I figured I could catch up with him and all of them. They haven't seen me in like a year or so." She said.

"I-I don't know." I stuttered, looking around her room.

"They all know about you." She replied.

I turned to her, wide eye, "I'm sorry, what?!"

"You know how during the summer I go home to Florida? Well sometimes I come out here instead and hang out with Corey and everyone in the Trap House. The last time I was out here I told them all about you. How you're my best friend and how amazing of a singer you are and also how you're a fan of them." She smiled brightly.

"Did you... go into detail of how much of a fan I am?" I questioned.

She turned her head to the side, "Like?"

"Like how I have a fan account? Like how I have all of their post notifications on and I follow them on literally every social media platform?" I stated.

She shook her head, "No. I just said you were a fan. That's it."

I sighed in relief, "Thank God."

"So... does that mean you're gonna hang out with me and the boys tomorrow?" She asked beaming.

Take chances, right?

"Sure. I guess so." I rolled my eyes.

"Yay! Honestly, you're gonna love them. Well, you're gonna love them more than you already do. They are seriously some of the nicest dudes you'll ever meet." She stopped in her tracks, gasping, "Oh my God, maybe you can get with one of them!"

"Everyone in the house has a girlfriend besides Colby." I said, confused.

"You're right. But... weirder things have happened." She replied, putting her clothes in the closet.

/ / / /

"Casey! Come on! Our uber's gonna be here in like two minutes." I yelled, filling up a cup with soda and vodka.

"I'm coming ya loud hoe!" Casey screamed, running into the kitchen. She grabbed the cup from my hands and took a swig of my cocktail.

I grumbled, "It's a little hard to be a hoe when no guy wants to fuck you." I snatched the cup from her hands, "Also make your own."

"There are plenty of guys that want to fuck you, Skye. It's just most of them are gross and don't deserve a text back, let alone seeing you naked." She replied.

"I think you're thinking of yourself. If you find a guy that wants me, feel free to send him my way." I rolled my eyes. I placed my cup down on the counter, grabbed my purse and headed towards the front door.

"Well if you want to attract a guy, maybe don't wear jeans to the club." She smirked, downing the rest of my drink.

I looked down at my outfit: a low-cut top, jeans, and platform boots. This was an average outfit for me.

I sighed, "Look my dude, I didn't feel like getting dressed up. Besides I haven't unpacked yet and this outfit was on top."

"We've been here for seven hours, why haven't you unpacked?" She asked, shutting and locking the front door behind her.

"I'll do it when we get home, mom." I mocked, turning to look at her. She raised her middle finger towards me. I blew her a kiss.

/ / / /

"It surprisingly busy for a Sunday night!" I yelled, getting close to Casey's ear.

The club 'Roses' was packed tonight. I asked Casey how she even knew of this place, telling me it's where her and Corey go every time she's in LA. Apparently this is also the go-to spot if you want to see D-Listers and influencers all in the same tiny place.

The whole place smelled like shitty cologne, tequila, sweat, and poor life choices.

I was home.

"Let's just try to get a drink! I need one!" She yelled back, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bar.

When we got there, we ordered our drinks. First, shots. Two each. Then a cocktail.

"I'm surprised you're letting me drink more than one tonight, you know, since you're paying." I stated, elbowing her lightly.

"We're only in California once, why not live it up a bit? Besides you won't have more than three drinks, four tops." She shrugged.

I raised my eyebrow, "How do you know that? Maybe I'll surprise you and have FIVE tonight."

She rolled her eyes. The bartender came up to us.

"That guy over there ordered you these." He said, pointing at the other end of the bar.

We both looked over to see a tall blonde hair guy. He was buff, wearing only a muscle shirt and tight black jeans. He had one sleeve of tattoos. He smiled, nodding over at us. He disappeared into the crowd, coming over.

One guess as to who he was going to talk to first.

"Sup ladies, my name's Mark. It's nice to meet ya!" Mark said, eyeing Casey.

"Hey. Thanks for the drink by the way." Casey replied, smiling.

"No problem. What's your name, beautiful?" He asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes but jumped in before Casey could speak. "I'm Christina, and she's Emily."

We both made a pack many years ago that if we weren't comfortable around a guy, the easiest way to let each other know was to change our names. It was subtle, but efficient; especially when you're drunk.

Why was I uncomfortable with this guy? Who knows.

"Nice. Why don't you come dance with me?" He requested, grabbing Casey's hand.

Casey turned to me, "Are you good, Christina?"

I nodded my head. She winked at me, slowly being pulled onto the dance floor. I looked back at the two shots Mark ordered for us. I downed both.

Haha, jokes on you Casey. I have gone over my limit.

Bitch...

/ / / /

After scrolling through my phone for the nth time, I looked at the dance floor, trying to find Casey. I spotted her; she had her phone in one hand and her drink in the other. She was also grinding lazily against Mark.

Ew.

I looked back at my phone, checking the time. Suddenly, a text popped up.

Casey: plz come ovr nd get ths douche away frm me

I looked up at her, seeing her stare at me. I nodded my head, finishing my sixth drink tonight, and started walking over to her.

Time to use my theater degree for something.

"Oh my God Christinaaa let's goooo home I'm tired." I whined, bumping into Casey 'drunkenly'.

Casey turned towards Mark. "Hey I'm really sorry but I gotta get my friend home now."

"What why? Can't she call an uber herself? I thought we were having fun." Mark groaned.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, but I want to make sure she's okay getting home. Don't need her to fall into the wrong hands."

"Okay I guess. Wait... isn't your name Emily?" He questioned.

I looked at Casey, she looked at me. I grabbed her hand and we ran outside.

"Shit, how did you forget my fake name?" She hissed, throwing my hand off hers.

"I'm sorry I forgot your fake name, I'll make sure to remember it next time." I grunted, rolling my eyes. I grabbed my phone, clicked the uber app, and called one. "What was the problem with Marky-Mark back there anyway?"

"Well for one thing, he smelled like Axe body spray and I immediately felt like I was back in high school grinding on a dude during prom. Also, I really can't understand how he was out of rhythm when I was the one doing all the work." She explained.

"I had a feeling he was gonna be douchey. However, being a bad dancer and smelling weird doesn't make him a shitty person." I quipped.

Casey's eyes widen. I scrunched my face, confused. Turning around, I saw the reason for her shocked expression: Mark. Standing right behind me, with a beer bottle in hand.

"So... you're not that drunk anymore. Maybe now Emily, or Christina, or whatever the fuck your name is can come back inside and dance with me some more." Mark sneered, reaching for Casey.

I jumped in front of his hand, "Look dude, I understand you want to keep hanging out with my friend, but she doesn't want to hang with you anymore. The both of us... don't want her hanging with you anymore. So, we're just gonna go home and you can go find some other girl to party with."

"You know bitch, you keep cock-blocking me and I'm getting real tired of it." He shouted, getting in my face.

"Fucker it ain't cock-blocking if you were never gonna get fucked to begin with. Also, calling me a bitch really isn't helping your case." I replied, stepping up to him.

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever, slut." He started to walk away.

I grabbed my chest, mockingly, "Ow, you hurt me."

He stopped, turn back towards me, reached out, and poured his beer down the center of my shirt.

"Look: two wet bitches for me!" He bellowed, smiling.

All I saw was red. This motherfucker is about to lose his balls. But as I was rearing up to go Tonya Harding on him, the bouncer grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, smashing the beer bottle on Mark's hand in the process.

"What the fuck?!" Marked yelled, trying to get out of the bouncer's grip.

Casey started pulling my arm. I looked to see our uber pull up. I looked at Mark, flipped him off, and jumped into the car.

After a silent, uncomfortably wet, 20-minute drive, we finally got home.

I sighed, stepping into the house. I immediately took my shirt off, walking into the kitchen.

"Woah, I didn't know coming home with you would get me a free show." Casey joked, dropping her body onto the couch.

I grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. I placed one down on the coffee table in front of Casey.

"I feel like buying you two drinks isn't sufficient enough for the bs that we went through tonight so... how about tomorrow I buy you dinner?" She said, smiling sweetly.

I took a long swig of my water. "Yeah that sounds fine. I would also appreciate it if you could steer clear of douche bags for the rest of the trip, for the sake of my sanity and wardrobe."

"I can't make any promises, but I will do my best." She replied, scrunching her nose.

<< CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 3 >>

#colby brock #corey scherer #colby brock x oc #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock story #colby brock fic #only the lonely survive

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killmvnger · 7 years ago

Text

What You Need (Part 5) Part 4 / Part 3 / Part 2 / Part 1

Killmonger/Black!Reader

Warning: Sexual content, use of n-word

Summary: You didn’t go to the club to find a man, but you sure as hell leave with one. (I seriously need to change this summary, so much has happened)

"Bitch, start talking!"

You jump at the loud voice, then groan, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you continue ambling through the kitchen. The last thing you needed to hear at the crack of dawn was Aaliyah Richmond and her country ass deep accusatory voice shouting at you. You had successfully avoided her when you got in last night since she was too busy yelling at her boyfriend over the phone to even acknowledge that you were, in fact, alive and well, but now that some time has passed it's only inevitable that she starts grilling you. You pull down your favorite coffee mug, the one with the Captain America shields on it, and turn towards Aaliyah - arms folded in front of her chest, glaring at you with those amber eyes.

"It's too early to talk, ho." You grumble, then quickly get back to working the coffee brewer. You hear her open the fridge and grab the water jug, sloshing it around before uncapping it and taking a sip. "Maybe if you hadn't been yelling at your cracker on the phone last night..." you trail off, smiling a little bit. Aaliyah started dating Clayton a few months back and she's yet to hear the end of you and Casey referring to him as 'her cracker'. She had to expect this with a name like Clayton. He was a dirty blonde surfer looking guy with green eyes and a heartbreaking smile, plus he stood about one foot higher than Aaliyah's short ass, so she was smitten from the start. You've been around Clayton enough to know that he's generally a nice guy, albeit a little clueless as to how to hold conversations with black women without mentioning hair.

"Well, my cracker had me fucked up last night." She sighed. You could hear her trying to sound typically angry, but her tone wavered too much, her voice lowered too quickly, and you knew that sound all too well.

"Do I have to kill him?" You ask casually, pouring your coffee into the mug, adding some cream and sugar.

"I don't know yet." She says, deflated. You turn back to her and frown. "Let's not even get into all that, girl, I wanna know how you pulled a nigga that drives a Bugatti Chiron. I saw you pulling up wearing his baggy ass clothes, limping up the stairs like your back was blown the fuck out. Stop playing and give me the tea, bitch!"

You almost spit out your coffee from laughter. "I was not limping!"

"You was a disabled ass hoe. Did you talk to Casey about it last night?" Aaliyah asks. She moves out of the kitchen space gesturing for you to follow her out into the dining room. You take a seat beside her at the small, circular wooden table and set your coffee down.

"I tried to, but her stoner ass fell asleep on me. She probably doesn't even remember half the shit I said."

"Okay, bitch, start from the very beginning. You told us to get the fuck out so you could talk to the dread-headed nigga at VIP." She reiterates, earning an eye roll from you. You sigh, then begin telling her as much as you could remember. She forced you to get into the explicit details, which is something you would've liked to keep private, but her eyes were hungry for a good story so you gave it all up. You explained his dirty kisses as well as his innocent ones, and the way he handled you like you've always wanted, how excited you grew every time he smirked just wide enough so that you'd see his gold caps, the way he kept pulling you into bed with him whenever you tried to go anywhere else. Aaliyah hung onto every word like she was watching an episode of some soap opera, nodding and gasping at all the right parts. When you explained the royal situation, she didn't speak through that at all, which was terrifying because her mouth never stays shut about anything.

"After we had sex in his closet, he took me back downstairs to the living room and we cuddled on the couch and watched a few episodes of Martin. By then, it was starting to get dark outside, so I went to get my stuff. He pulled five hundred dollars out of his wallet like it was nothing! Handed me them bills and we were on our way." You conclude the story, anxious by the vague look on Aaliyah's face. The quiet begins getting uncomfortable as you await your friend's reaction and it seems like it's never gonna come. Until she jumps on you.

You fall back and out of the chair with a scream, immediately calling for Casey as Aaliyah tackled you to the ground with a war cry. No regard for anyone's safety, this girl!

"Bitch! Ohhhh, bitch! You little slut!" She shouts, lightly slapping you in the process. You try to fight against her, still screaming for Casey.

"Casey! Abuse! Abuse!" You yell as Aaliyah lets out an evil cackle.

"It's love taps because I love you! Stop tripping!" She presses a wet kiss to your cheek, which you immediately wipe off in irritation. Aaliayh finally gets up and off of you, doing a little dance in the process.

"You went out and bagged a prince! This is the proudest moment of my fucking life! C'mere, bitch, give mama a hug." She opened her arms, welcoming you, but you just scoffed and stood up.

"No! Stop beating me up whenever something good happens!" You reply. She ignores that and goes in for the hug anyway, rocking you back and forth as you stood there annoyed.

"Now, I have a question." She pulls you away at arms distance with a serious expression. "It's important, so treat it as such because I don't take this shit lightly." She says. You nod for her to go on. "How did King T'Challa smell?"

You huff, but decide to throw her a bone. "Like mint leaves and cocoa butter."

Aaliyah groans, closing her eyes like she can just imagine it. "What was he wearing? I didn't get my notification from T'Challa Daily yesterday. I bet he looked good."

"He had on a denim jacket, v-neck, and jeans. Girl, he looked like a snack." You smile thinking back to when he grabbed your hand in his. Aaliayh moans.

"Couldn't've been me! I would've risked it all! You know me, I only serve kings, baby!" She raved, sticking her tongue out playfully. You squint, unimpressed.

"Oh, really? Explain the cracker then."

"Um! Stay outta grown folks business." She replied, looking salty. "But you got the next best thing, girl. This nigga gave you five hundred dollars? And you didn't even suck his dick? Tuh! Keep him forever."

Your eyes widen. Forever is a bold claim and a hell of a stretch to be thinking of when you haven't even been on one date with him. You don't know much about him besides the fact that he's a rich, overly confident prince with family issues. You can't keep things that you know nothing about, that's moving too fast, but Aaliyah wouldn't get that concept since she and Clayton started looking for a place to live together one month in their relationship.

"Keep him? Leah, I just met him. I'm not really sure how I feel about him. Who knows if he's even for real about this stuff? Like, what if it's just...a game? Even you have to admit that this whole situation doesn't sound real." You reason to yourself. As exciting and satisfying as he was, you still had your doubts.

"The only reason I'm not dragging you right now is because I know you've been through a lot. But...not every guy you meet is like Marvin."

You still. That name gave you hives, creating the searing rage inside of you to come to the surface. You glare at your friend, not understand why she'd bring him up when you were finally feeling better.

"I told you not to say that damn name anymore." You say more harshly than you intend, but Aaliyah doesn't take offense to your tone.

"He's not Voldemort! We have to address the real shit sometimes." She explained, treading lightly around the mess that is your love life. Your ex-boyfriend isn't someone who you can just address without feeling some type of way.

"You're telling me to address real shit when you've been avoiding yours this entire time?"

She nods reluctantly. "I'll take that." Her bright eyes grow darker as they take you in. "But, my shit ain't stopping me from having a relationship with a perfect guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's not perfect."

She gave you a dry look, then shook her head. "You may be too guarded to see it, but you need someone like him right now. You look happy. You can't fool me, bitch, I know you like him." She raises a brow at you. You couldn't even disagree with her. "Now, let's go wake Casey up from her weed induced coma before she's late for work. Lord only knows how she managed to get an office job living like she's in How High." Aaliyah starts walking to the hallway that led to your bedrooms.

You followed closely behind.

"Light skin privilege." You answer with a laugh.

"You damn right." Leah huffs, then starts doing her loud ass 'mom waking the kids up for school' knock on Casey's door. "Ay! High-Yellow! Wake yo ass up before you get fired! Let's go!" She yells without stopping her knocking. You hear Casey having a fit from inside, whining and begging for a few more minutes.

"You got a class today?" You ask Aaliyah, examining her clothes. Usually, you couldn't tell her choreographer clothes from her street clothes. Aaliyah's been a dance instructor for about two years now, hosting her classes at a studio downtown, averaging about twenty people a class. She nods.

"Hell yeah, girl, I been working on this routine all week! It's gon' get a little freaky today, actually. You should drop in and learn this shit. Impress ya man." She winks. You blush. You and Aaliyah used to dance together for fun back in high school, but it was only a hobby for you and it was Aaliyah's whole life, so naturally, she branched off into the dancing field. Sometimes, if you're in a good mood, you attend a few of her classes. Almost everyone already knows who you are and basically thinks of you as an assistant coach, but that's only when you're in the mood to dance.

"Maybe. We'll see. If I do end up doing some shit, it'll be a miracle because my body is still aching from yesterday." You admit with a smirk.

"Eeeeooowwww!" Aaliyah whines, nailing her Cardi B impression.

Casey's door flung open at the noise, revealing her pouty freckled face.

"Y'all irritate my soul!" She groans, pushing past you and Aaliyah to get to the bathroom. You ignore her attitude, knowing she's the worst morning person ever. She may be the sweetest person you've ever met, but in the morning she's pure evil.

"Mhm. Love you too, bitch!" Aaliyah calls out, smiling. "I'm 'bout to leave, but I think you need to talk to Erik."

"I'll talk to Erik if you talk to Clayton." You try to bargain. Talking to him on the phone seemed just as awkward as talking to him after sex. You truly aren't looking for a relationship and you wish everyone could see that.

She sighs. "Clay and I will be fine, eventually. You can't use my issues to prolong whatever weird phobia you have towards affection." You were about to make a comment on how rational and philosophical your friend was being until she quickly followed her previous statement with:

"Wow, my mind! I really am that bitch in this household. I really am the glue that holds you two unstable ass hoes together. I'm like y'all anti-depressant and shit, I should be getting paid for single-handedly solving all y'all problems!"

Your eyes roll so far back into your head that it hurts.

"And I should be getting paid for putting up with you for all these years! Now, getcha broke ass down to that studio and dance for that rent money."

"Don't you got work today, too?" She asks, stepping back down the hall to slip into the shoes she left by the door.

"Not with five hundred dollars in my bag, I don't." You laugh. Before you even got up from the bed, you got someone else to take your shift today because there's no way you'd be able to make it in after yesterday.

"It truly blows my mind how quickly you turn boujee with a few dollars in your pocket. Ay, if you stay with Prince Charming, you could probably quit that tired ass barista job and just let him hand you the checks." She opened the front door.

"Taking the money that he offers me is one thing, but I'll be damned if I'm relying on some nigga to pay my own bills. I'm not a charity case, I'm a grown ass woman with morals and integrity." You say as she lingers by the door.

"Again. Couldn't've been me." She laughs at you. "Bye, girl, love you!"

You wave goodbye as she saunters out.

Your idle hands twiddled nervously around your phone, gripping it as if you were about to make a call but never actually following through with it. His name was entered in your contacts as 'Daddy' with a couple tongue emojis when he returned it to you, which you quickly changed to his actual name when he wasn't paying attention. Would calling first make you seem desperate? You debated that question in your head as you continued staring down his name on the phone screen. Casey was ironing her work shirt in the background as you sat anxiously on the couch in the living room.

"Baby doll," Casey's soft, lullaby voice removed your eyes from the phone. "I think you need a distraction. This boy has got you sitting there in a tin foil hat."

"I'm not crazy. I'm not even that worried about him."

She harumphs, smiling. "I'm so glad that I no longer have to deal with that nonsense, the waiting rules, and constant worrying." Casey begins what you know is about to be an hour long rant about how much better it is to be a lesbian. "Funny story! My girlfriend, Jessica, and I started our relationship solely through text messages because --"

"Because we were so awkward in person. So, we never worry about double texting or triple texting because we understand each other so well. I love my girlfriend. Jessica, Jessica, Jessica." You finish for her. The goofy smile still hasn't left her face.

"I do. I do love my girlfriend. That reminds me, Jessica has a show next week at the park. She's performing a few new songs and she asked if you and Leah will be there."

"Not sure about Leah, but I'll try to make it." You promised. Jessica is basically an extension of Casey by now, so it's second nature to support her endeavors as much as you would your best friend.

"It's gonna be insane! I've been working on this new brownie recipe especially for it, which includes walnuts because I know Jessy's been craving walnuts so much lately."

"...And weed?"

"I thought that was a given. You think I'd waste my time baking anything that doesn't have marijuana in it? I'm not an animal." She snorts. You glance back to your phone, thumb hovering over the call button. "Forget whatever foolish bullshit Aaliyah's pitching to you. You don't know this guy and you shouldn't feel pressured to continue messing with him just because he thought your pussy was so good that he had to clear his wallet for it. You know better than me that there's no such thing as Prince Charming. Don't play yourself."

Casey finishes her ironing and then puts her wrinkle-free shirt on, buttoning and tucking it into her oversized slacks. She has a point. With your mind made up, you set your phone down on the table. Casey's right, she's usually always right about everything else, so she has to be right about this as well. It's not like he'd be torn up that you never called him, you'd probably never even run into him again, your apartment is a hell of a long way from his estate.

"Good point. I'll just get dressed, go for a walk, maybe visit Aaliyah at the studio, and enjoy the rest of my vacation day before work tomorrow."

But even as you say the positive words, it feels wrong. It doesn't feel like it'd be this easy, which is what unnerves you about it.

Just as you're about to move from the couch, your phone buzzes. You turn to Casey, but shes already put the ironing board away and has earbuds blasting in her ear. She waves goodbye to you as she dances her way out of the apartment, clearly not noticing your dilemma.

It buzzes three more times before you pick it up.

"Hello?" You answer although you know exactly who it is.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Okay, maybe you didn't know exactly who it was after all. You blink in surprise.

"T'Challa?" You ask, already smiling. There's some scuffling over the line before his voice comes in clearly again.

"Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you would like to accompany Erik, Shuri, and I --" There's more movement and scuffling from the other line and you could distinctly hear Erik's voice angry-whispering Xhosa at T'Challa. It sounds like they were fighting over the phone, so you wait patiently for someone to get it. A young woman's voice joins in the fray of chaos, followed by a smacking sound and a slew of curses.

"Hello?" You ask again, trying to get their attention.

"Ay. Sorry 'bout my dumbass cousin." Erik apologizes.

"He didn't bother me." You clarify and he snorts. "I guess I'll just let you go now if all this was just a prank." You say. He's quiet for a moment.

"Do you want there to be more?" He asks. How does he always place you in a position of power while still remaining dominant?

"Nah, I'm good." Is your quick reply. You try to remember what Casey was talking about, but it's so much harder going through with it as you actually talked to him.

He sucks his teeth. "Oh, you good?" He sounds a little irritated, which really didn't make sense to you. It's not like you said 'fuck you, go away', but he's creating this unnecessary tension like you did.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" You ask, getting quite irritated yourself. It's not like he even called you in the first place.

"You know, I'm really sick of that attitude."

"I don't care."

He laughs. "Oh, you really brave now that we not in the same room. You better calm yo ass down."

"You can just give the phone back to T'Challa if this is how you plan on talking to me right now."

It's painfully quiet on his end.

"Get fucking dressed, we going out." The line clicks before you could even protest. The nerve of this man. Still, despite his abruptness, you jumped to your feet and ran back to your room to look for an outfit.

(Sorry for the lack of Killmonger in this one. I just wanted to give you a quick one that establishes friendships before continuing. Love you guys!)

@sweettea-and-honeybutter @coldcrevices @nakh-es @shesfromwakanda @nyxieso @jaaystaar95 @tiava143@lafayettes-baguettes-1 @tenxouttanine @ashleychristina73@panthergoddessbast @artpoetx @im-not-always-a-jellyfish @thehomierobbstark @muffytheaardvarkslayer @k-michaelis @yung-glvdn-goddess @localtrapgod @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @pumpkinmcqueen @lalasparkles @princessstevens @maya-leche @coldcrevices @youreadthatright @buttercup812 @sicksadgen @purple-apricots @nyxies @muse-of-mbaku (sorry if I missed anyone, thanks for the love & support)

#black panther fanfiction #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black reader #erik killmonger x you

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chaos-and-recover · 7 years ago

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all of them. all. of. them.

WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME EVERY TIME is it because you know I have nothing better to do? Because you are right.

1. What is you middle name? Barbara. It’s my mom’s first name2. How old are you? OLD AS BALLS. Or like. 32.3. When is your birthday? April 4th.4. What is your zodiac sign? Aries5. What is your favorite color? purple6. What’s your lucky number? I don’t know if I have one?7. Do you have any pets? nope. I am sad and empty and pet=less8. Where are you from? Canada, eh?9. How tall are you? 5′11″ or somewhere in there. Apparently freakishly tall, according to my tiny, tiny friends10. What shoe size are you? ladies’ 9 1/2-10. Currently wearing size 9 boots every day because I haven’t gotten around to getting new winter boots and got those ones for a cosplay a few years ago because they looked rad and were cheap but NOT COMFY and I NEED NEW BOOTS.11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? lemme tell you it’s not nearly as many as it was when I worked in a mall with a Payless and went there WAY too often. There’s probably like 5 or 6 I wear regularly now.12. What was your last dream about? I... actually don’t even remember? I remember waking up the other morning thinking “what in the FUCK” about a dream I’d had but now I can’t remember what it actually WAS lol13. What talents do you have? none lol14. Are you psychic in any way? I mean I don’t know if I ACTUALLY am but I’ve learned to trust my gut when I feel really sure of an outcome of something because I’ve been right more than I’ve been wrong15. Favorite song? Falling Slowly from the movie Once is probably my favourite thing in the world.16. Favorite movie? 10 Things I Hate About You, The Princess Bride, and a bunch of objectively awful movies that I love.17. Who would be your ideal partner? Someone who will leave me tf alone. Actually I would probably thrive in a long distance relationship where I don’t have to like... see them all the time and can still have my own space?18. Do you want children? Not especially. I recently figured out that may be negotiable though which was... interesting.19. Do you want a church wedding? Not necessarily but if I did have one I would only want it at my grandparents’ church because history (my parents were married there; I was baptized there; my Oma loved that church).20. Are you religious? Not even a little.21. Have you ever been to the hospital? My guy I spent so much time in the ER as a kid that they almost called social services.22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope, I’m a nerd.23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Yes, quite a few. That was like, My Thing in high school24. Baths or showers? baths if they stay warm for more than 0.00005 seconds.25. What color socks are you wearing? black, with white writing. They’re my July Socks because I am JUST that awful and love a bad pun.26. Have you ever been famous? I had my 15 minutes of fame in 2004. Green Day were involved. The story circulated the local music/industry community for at least a year. That’s all.27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I don’t think I would like that AT ALL.28. What type of music do you like? I listen to so much music, honestly. Name a genre and I could probably name at least one artist I like from it.29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Not totally but I’ve gone halfway there. Not sober lol.30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 231. What position do you usually sleep in? Usually on my stomach32. How big is your house? not as big as the rest in the neighbourhood now but when it was built in the 70s it WAS one of the biggest around33. What do you typically have for breakfast? either: a bagel w/ cream cheese, Eggos (with chocolate chips sometimes), toast w/ peanut butter & banana, Cheerios w/ banana, or oatmeal34. Have you ever fired a gun? only a laser gun lol35. Have you ever tried archery? yeah, I actually liked it? I wasn’t very good. Although my Opa did make my brother and I our own bow and arrow sets when we were little. Nobody lost an eye, so it worked out well.36. Favorite clean word? I don’t know if I have one?37. Favorite swear word? I like made up ones, like “fucknugget.”38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? Without ANY sleep at all, like a day and a half. With minimal sleep, a few days - a week or so.39. Do you have any scars? Yes and they’re all dumb.40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? lol doubtful41. Are you a good liar? Sometimes. For like, inconsequential shit I don’t even need to lie about.42. Are you a good judge of character? I wanna say yes but I’m actually just kind of a bitch and super judgy anyway?43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Every one I try turns out like a really shitty southern accent44. Do you have a strong accent? I don’t think so but people from elsewhere might disagree45. What is your favorite accent? Irish, specifically Galway-area. I also like certain southern accents, like... wherever Matthew McConaughey is from. That’s a nice accent.46. What is your personality type? Like... those acronyms? No idea lol. I don’t do those personality tests.47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Probably my Roots cabin sweater which I got for Christmas last year but I know ain’t cheap.48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie50. Left or right handed? Right, although I’m fairly competent with my left from when I was 8 and broke my right arm and had to use my left for everything for a while.51. Are you scared of spiders? Yes, they’re awful little demon bugs.52. Favorite food? Poutine lmao. I’m a stereotype.53. Favorite foreign food? Burritos.54. Are you a clean or messy person? Horrifically messy.55. Most used phrased? Lord, probably “lmao.” Or “your face.”56. Most used word? Probably “fuck”57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Depends for what. For just like, every day shit, like 20 minutes. If I actually wanna look good I need more time. Both of those require at least 20-40 minutes of sitting despondently on my bed wondering if I REALLY need to go where I’m supposed to go.58. Do you have much of an ego? I don’t think so?59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Lick/suck til I get bored, then bite. (Hey boys ;) )60. Do you talk to yourself? Yes, way too much.61. Do you sing to yourself? Quietly, but I do.62. Are you a good singer? FUCK no.63. Biggest Fear? The existential horror of Never Getting My Life Together.64. Are you a gossip? More than I should/want to be 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Ever? That’s a hard question. I have a really unpopular opinion about Manchester By The Sea (I KNOW how we’re supposed to feel about Casey Affleck) but I don’t even know if that’s the best EVER, it’s just very good and that makes me angry.66. Do you like long or short hair? On myself? Kinda miss my long hair now.67. Can you name all 50 states of America? If you give me time to figure them out, probably. (let’s see - Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Hawaii, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Idaho, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota, Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Montana, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Rhode Island, New York, Maine, Vermont, Massachusetts, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, North Carolina, South Carolina, Colorado, Delaware, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Connecticut, Minnesota, Wyoming, Arizona, Missouri, Mississippi, Kansas, New Hampshire, Oklahoma. BAM.68. Favorite school subject? I was a nerd and loved History. I took American History in grade 11 SPECIFICALLY because my 10th grade History teacher was so good and he taught it, I wanted him again. I also liked English. Math can choke.69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert. But I play an extrovert on the internet.70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope.71. What makes you nervous? Crowds, specifically crowds hindering where I need to go or what I want to accomplish.72. Are you scared of the dark? No, I’m scared of things IN the dark lmao.73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Sometimes, but usually I couch it in “I think it might be this actually” which probably comes off as passive aggressive.74. Are you ticklish? Yes but if you exploit that you gonna die75. Have you ever started a rumor? Probably lol76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Yep. I used to manage a store. I’m also a supervisor at my part-time job.77. Have you ever drank underage? I really didn’t that much but I did a little.78. Have you ever done drugs? Never hard drugs because I’m lame.79. Who was your first real crush? Third grade. Luke Costello. That crush... set a bit of a tone lol.80. How many piercings do you have? None, not even my ears, which everyone finds baffling for some reason.81. Can you roll your Rs? Yes!82. How fast can you type? I don’t know my exact WPM but it’s pretty fast I think.83. How fast can you run? Not very.84. What color is your hair? Red85. What color is your eyes? Green/hazel86. What are you allergic to? Potentially cats and/or dogs, dust, MAYBE alcohol lol.87. Do you keep a journal? Nope88. What do your parents do? they’re both retired but they were both teachers, the absolute nerds.89. Do you like your age? Sure90. What makes you angry? Dumb people at rush hour on public transit.91. Do you like your own name? I don’t hate it.92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Not in a long, long time and when I used to they were all ridiculous and terrible, thank GOD I never had any.93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I wouldn’t care.94. What are you strengths? I’m pretty chill I think?95. What are your weaknesses? Maybe too chill when things are important.96. How did you get your name? It was crazy popular in the 80s and my parents just liked it.97. Were your ancestors royalty? No, but there may have been a Polish lord somewhere in the line? No one is really sure. We ARE sure about the bank robber though. She’s my favourite.98. Do you have any scars? Oh hey a repeat question.99. Color of your bedspread? Purple100. Color of your room? Also purple

#tbh on the states I got as far as connecticut and looked at a map #shut it i got close #nikkihorrorxx

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krisletang58 · 8 years ago

Text

Rafael Barba- I'm Not Ready To Let Go

So...this is something that I wrote because I was hit hard by a loss. It really resonates deeply with me and I just out raw emotion into it. It is unedited and I hope pretty good. RafaelxOFC and its a lot of angst. Idk i tried, i hope someone maybe reads this and enjoys it but honestly it was just a great personal outlet of emotions...here goes nothing: Liv handed the file over to Rafael. He was sitting at the table in his office, on his phone every other second and unusually quiet. “The vic claims that she was attacked by her boyfriend?” he asked tiredly. “Yes,” Olivia replied simply, waiting for the follow up. With him, there always was a follow up, “Does she seem credible, no waffling on details?” “No more than what is usual,” Liv said, frowning. He already seemed wary of this case. “Barba are you okay?” she asked when he checked his phone for what seemed like the fiftieth time in five minutes. “Fine,” he stated, pulling at his tie to loosen it. He picked up the file, reading through it, “A he said-she said?” Rafael whispered, exasperated, “Did she tell anyone right afterwards?” “Her sister,” Liv replied, “The rape kit was a positive for semen, it matches the boyfriend of course. She has abrasions and trauma consistent with an assault,” “Defense will just argue that she liked rough sex,” Rafael said flatly, “You’ve indicted on less,” “We need more, start digging into past girlfriends, see what you can find,” he instructed. When he looked up at her, there were dark bags under his eyes, a defeated air to him. His voice sounded exhausted, no hint of the sharp tongued lawyer with a good sense of humor, just a tired, tired man. “Let’s take a break,” Liv suggested, “I’ll buy you a drink,” Rafael was about to answer when his phone started to ring. He held up a finger, answering the call. Rafael headed out of the room, talking in hushed tones before coming briskly back over to his desk. “Rain check? I have to go,” he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Let me know what you find,” Rafael called over his shoulder, grabbing his brief case and leaving Liv standing in his office alone. That should have been her first clue that something was going on with him. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. The next time she saw him, he was strolling into the precinct, practically slamming his briefcase down on the table and immediately ripping into Rollins, “You didn’t vet the witness? I put Kyle up on the stand and he took a one-eighty Rollins, what the hell,” “Barba,” Carisi interjected, stepping in to defend Amanda, “You can’t blame Rollins for this, he was in protective custody all night. His story was consistent when we talked to him,” “How the hell did they get to him?” Rafael yelled, “Someone tell me because I had to spend my morning assuring the D.A. that I would rectify this situation,” “We’ll look into it,” Liv said, approaching him cautiously, this wasn’t about the witness or at least she didn’t think so. “Sit down, we can talk this through. We’ll find something else to help,” Rafael glared, but he collapsed down into the chair, rubbing his face tiredly. They spent nearly thirty minutes talking through the details of the case before they had a course of action to try and clean up the mess that it had become. Rafael was still brooding in his seat, glaring at the wall. He looked ragged, somehow even more tired than before. “Barba, my office?” she asked. He got up and followed her in, closing the door, “Can I do something for you?” he asked, sitting down. “What’s going on with you? You didn’t have to yell at Rollins like that, witnesses turn all the time Rafael,” Liv commented, pouring him a cup of coffee, “Drink this, you look exhausted,” “Thank you,” he murmured, taking the cup before answering, “I’m fine Liv, just tired. I’ve had some late nights recently,” Rafael stood up, pacing for a few seconds. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just shook his head. His phone started to ring, and he looked at it like it had betrayed him, “I have to answer that,” Rafael disappeared from her office, for a few moments before rushing back in and grabbing his jacket, “I’m sorry to run out on you again like this, I’ll have to reschedule our meeting with the victim in the Taylor case tomorrow. I’ll call you,” Liv sat down in her chair, she was concerned about him. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Liv strolled into 1 Hogan Place, going directly toward Rafael’s office. He had been ducking her calls all week, only shooting her an email rescheduling their meeting. Carmen was sitting at her desk typing away, a large pile of papers next to her. His door was shut, so Liv went up, knocking on the door, “He’s not in there,” Carmen said simply. “Where is he? Out to lunch?” Liv asked. It was noon, she should have come earlier, but this was the first chance she had to get away from the office, “No, he’s out of the office today. Something personal I believe, but I’m not really sure,” the assistant replied. Olivia sighed, heading out. “Tell him I dropped by please,” she called over her shoulder, going down to drive back to the station. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. “Hey Liv, sorry I missed you today. I had something I had to take care of. I can come in later if you need something,” his voice did sound apologetic on the phone. “No, no it’s alright. I was just concerned. You haven’t been yourself lately. How is your mother?” Liv asked, hoping she wasn’t overstepping. He had talked to her about his family before. “I’m alright Liv, it’s complicated. My mother is fine,” Rafael said tiredly. Liv didn’t believe him one bit. He sounded anything but fine. “Are things okay at home?” she asked gently, “We’re not fighting if that’s what you’re asking,” he said simply, “Look, I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’ll see you tomorrow at the trial,” “Okay,” Liv relented. if he didn’t want her help, she couldn’t make him take it. …………………………………………………………………………………………. Rafael stood up from his seat in the courtroom, glaring down the man who was on the stand currently. Olivia frowned watching as the lawyer gingerly moved towards the jury. He looked like he was in pain, his stride clumsy, his steps slow. “Mr. Casey, you told the police that you never saw Ms. O’Brien before, but that wasn’t the truth,” “I already told you, I was afraid that it would give the police the wrong idea,” “And lying to them wouldn’t,” he countered. “Your DNA was found underneath her fingernails, your semen on her clothing,” “Objection your honor,” Buchanan said, “Is there a question here. The witness already gave an account as why his DNA ended up on the victim,” “Alright then, let’s visit what he said about that then,” Rafael interjected, “You allege that you and Ms. O’Brien had consensual sex?” “I’ve already said yes to that,” the man said, obviously annoyed. Rafael headed back to the table slowly, grabbing photos from his file. “Prosecution exhibit 3B, photos of Ms. O’Brien postmortem. Tell me about these bruises, the tearing the doctors found, she wanted this?” “She was killed, I didn’t do any of that,” Casey said disdainfully, “We just had sex,” “It’s interesting you say that Mr. Casey, the doctors found no evidence of condom lubricant and yours was the only semen found, you at least caused the vaginal tearing,” Rafael insisted. Olivia could see the red flush of anger beginning to rise above his collar. He was still keeping himself in check, but she could tell this man really got under his skin. The man was silent, “Come on Mr. Casey, we all know what happened. You wanted Ms. O’Brien, she denied you, so you forced her. You raped her, you strangled her, and you beat her,” “No, I didn’t,” Casey replied. Rafael took a step closer, “Stop denying it,” his voice was beginning to get louder, “You killed her, you took her from her family,” “I did not,” “Objection your honor, badgering-” “You killed her Mr. Casey, you left two little boys, a husband, a family without their mother. You took her from them you son of a bitch, admit it, fucking admit it,” “Mr. Barba!” the judge exclaimed, “The jury will disregard Mr. Barba’s outburst, and we are going to take a recess. Court will reconvene tomorrow at 9 am, I will not tolerate another cross like that, get it together,” she was looking pointedly at the lawyer. Liv looked over to Carisi who looked shocked at Barba’s outburst. He stormed out of the courtroom, pushing past them, a hand on his back. Olivia rushed out after him, catching him in the elevator. She was quiet when she saw the redness around his eyes. He was quietly brooding. Olivia followed him to a bar down the street, sitting next to him as he ordered a bourbon on the rocks, sitting hunched over on the stool. “What the hell was that?” she finally asked once he had downed two drinks. “I just lost it, I hate that he thinks he can lay a hand on her and get away with it. It makes me sick,” Rafael whispered, taking a sip of his third glass. Olivia didn’t press him, instead switching the topic, “What’s wrong with your back?” she asked softly. “I slept weird I think,” he replied, “I need some ibuprofen. I just really fucked up,” Liv was quiet, ordering him one more glass before she was going to drag him from the bar if he liked it or not. “No more for him,” she said to the bartender, “I’m fine Liv,” Rafael replied, before smirking and looking up at her, “You can come visit my grave after the D.A. calls,” She laughed at that. He finished his glass, standing up, “Thanks for the drink,” he said softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow if I haven’t been fired,” Liv could hear the joking tone in his voice, but she also saw the unshed tears that were still in his eyes, and she had a feeling it honestly had nothing to do with the trial. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. “Hey Lieu, what is up with Barba?” Sonny asked, coming into her office, “He just chewed me out, again. I mean the guy can be a real asshole sometimes, but he’s been angry for months,” “I don’t know Carisi, maybe city hall is putting pressure on him. He has a very stressful job,” Liv replied. “Yeah well I don’t need him up my ass about mine,” the detective complained, heading out to his desk. Olivia just shook her head, Carisi wasn’t wrong. Barba had been acting so strangely, screaming at detectives when they didn’t deserve it, disappearing from meetings. She would call and he wouldn’t answer. They had been seeing less and less of him, other D.A.s taking on some of his cases. Olivia had tried to drag it out of him, but he had been stubbornly brushing off her efforts. She stood up, grabbing her jacket. He wasn’t going to make her job harder, even if he wouldn’t tell her what was wrong, she wasn’t going to sit there and let him yell at her detectives for no reason. Carmen let her into his office, telling her he was out at lunch, but he would be back any minute, so she settled in a chair by his desk, picking up a new picture that he had on the desk. She smiled, Gabriella was much older. She hadn’t seen the little girl in a while. “Hey, what are you doing here?” his voice was kind as he strolled in, taking his jacket off and rolling up his sleeves. “This is a cute picture,” she commented, “Rafael looks so big,” “Yeah he’s growing fast, feels like just yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital, now he likes to throw tantrums and scream no when I tell him something,” Barba commented, shaking his head, “But I take it you didn’t come here to talk to me about my kids, what’s up?” He immediately took a seat, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “You ever think yelling at my detectives might make my job harder,” she commented. He sighed loudly. “Carisi wasn’t too happy then, I take it,” Rafael replied, “Not properly getting stories from witnesses makes my job a nightmare,” he added after a few minutes, pulling out his phone that was buzzing, “Sorry, one second. Hello? No I can talk,” he listened for a few moments, tiredly wiping his face, “And you’re sure?” he asked, “Okay give me an hour. No, you don’t have to-okay well I’ll see you later then, thank you Mami,” “Leaving?” Olivia asked, but he shook his head, “No, I’m staying here,” he said simply, offering no other details, but pouring himself another drink. “Well I would appreciate it if you stopped yelling at my guys,” Liv stated after a few minutes. Rafael just nodded, offering her a drink. She declined. “So what gives, you have been taking less and less cases,” “D.A. isn’t too happy with me,” Rafael murmured, tracing the lip of his tumbler with his finger. “I’ll get myself out of the doghouse soon, it’ll be fine,” “Well I hope it’s sooner than later, I am not such a fan of Turner,” she commented, looking at him closely. He was hard to read sometimes, but she didn’t really know how much she bought of the story. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Olivia shook her head, storming into her office, and throwing the file down on her desk. She was about ready to call the D.A. herself and tell him Rafael needed to get his ass back to SVU before she killed Turner. The man was a moron, he either refused to take cases or got his ass handed to him in court. With Rafael, she knew what she was getting, with this guy, she was left out of the loop and with multiple very upset victims. “Carisi!” she yelled, “Go over to Barba’s office and see if he’s in,” The blond poked his head through the door, “Will do Liv, he wasn’t in yesterday though,” “I know,” she sighed tiredly, “I’m sick of Turner, but Barba has been acting weird for six goddamned months. Actually I can go myself,” she decided, standing up and pulling on her jacket. Enough was enough. Carmen was sitting at her desk, the lights were off in Rafael’s office, the door locked. “Carmen, where is he?” she asked. “I need to talk to him,” “Mr. Barba is out for the week,” Carmen said, turning to face the detective, “I can set you up an appointment or let ADA Turner know that you need him,” “Don’t you dare call Turner,” Liv grumbled, “I’ll get a hold of Rafael myself,” “I’ll let him know you dropped by if he calls in,” the assistant offered, looking at Liv apologetically. “He should be in on Monday,” “Okay, well thanks Carmen,” Olivia replied, sighing. She dialed Rafael’s number, but her call went directly to voicemail. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. “Where the hell have you been?” Liv said, grinning as she headed into his office. He was sitting on the couch, his recently ever present glass of bourbon in his hand and a file spread out on the table. “Can’t I take vacation?” he teased, smiling. His smile was empty, shallow, almost sad looking. “I’ve never seen you take more than a weekend off at a time,” she replied. Rafael just laughed a little, taking another sip of his drink, “So, is there something you needed from me?” he asked. “You haven’t been taking my calls,” Liv accused, “We could use your help, I am this close to strangling Turner,” “I’ll see what I can do. He’s still learning Liv, give him a chance,” Rafael said, writing something down in the notebook. “That doesn’t help my victims and you know it. Get your ass back on my cases, we need you Barba,” Olivia was ready to beg him. “You’ll survive without me for a bit more, plus I’m still helping with some cases. I’ll be back soon, I just have to talk to-,” “The D.A. I know,” Liv said, rolling her eyes, “I should call him myself, give him a piece of my mind,” “It’s okay Liv, I promise, trust me,” he whispered. She nodded softly, “I sure hope so,” she whispered. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Liv was sitting in the squad room, a whole board set up with pictures and timelines set up. Rafael should have been there by now. Sonny was sitting at his desk, “Where the hell is Barba?” he finally asked. “Yeah,” Fin commented, “He was supposed to be here over an hour ago,” “I’ll call him again,” Liv offered, dialing his number. It went straight to voicemail. “Well let’s get started,” she said. Suddenly she heard some clumsy footsteps and there he was. Rafael was slowly walking in, a five year old girl, half asleep in his right arm, his briefcase in his hand, and two year old Rafael passed out, perched on his left hip, “I’m sorry I’m late guys,” he grunted, setting his briefcase down on the table. Liv rushed over to give him a hand with the kids, grabbing Gabriella, “Princesa, can you walk for Papi?” he whispered. Liv could feel the shocked looks they were receiving from the squad. She was the only one who had met his family. He was really pretty private about them. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking like he was going to burst into tears. He had on the same suit he was wearing the day before, his clothes wrinkled, his hair messy, “My mom was supposed to watch them, but something came up, and I-I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to cancel again,” Liv was about to assure him that it was fine when Gabriella burst into tears beside him, and she rushed to take Rafaelito from his arms so he could comfort her. “Oh mija,” he whispered. “Papi, I want to go home,” she sobbed, “I want mami,” he groaned slightly as he knelt down and pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair, “Gabriella, I’m sorry. I know, lo siento, lo siento,” his voice broke slightly, “If you and Rafa can be quiet for a little while, Papi will take you out for ice cream later,” Rafael promised. Olivia just bounced little Rafael in her arms, trying to keep him calm. “Quiet like when mami is sleeping?” she asked softly and he nodded. “Si mija, exactly,” Rafael whispered, kissing her forehead and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Hey kiddo,” Sonny said with a grin, coming over and trying to help, “You want some candy?” Rafael normally would have glared at the man for offering her sweets without even asking him, but he was just glad to see Gabriella smile. She nodded shyly, “Gabriella, this is Mr. Carisi, he works with Papi,” Rafael murmured, “Oh, she can call me Sonny,” Carisi interjected. “Come on, I’ll get you some candy from my desk and maybe something to color with. Rafael mouthed a thank you, swearing softly when he saw the snot stains on his shirt. “I’m really sorry about this Liv,” Rafael murmured, taking a breath. “Here, I can take him,” Rafa reached out for his father, quietly clinging to him, and shutting his eyes again. “It’s perfectly fine Rafael, here come on, I can get Gabriella set up on the couch if that’s okay with her,” she offered, opening the door to the office. Sonny brought her over, candy in hand and she sat on the couch. He set some paper in front of her and some pens. “Okay, Papi loves you, be good,” Rafael whispered, “I’ll be right out there if you really need me mija,” He tried to set Rafa down on the couch next to his sister, but the toddler was gripping his shirt. He started to fuss, so Rafael sighed and held him. He headed out and sat down at the table, “Barba, I didn’t know you had kids,” Fin said, smiling at Rafa. “Yeah, I don’t tell people much. I’m sorry I’m so late, I had a crazy morning,” Rafael apologized, “We can start now if you’d like,” “He’s so cute,” Sonny whispered. “How old is he?” “Two, look I don’t have all day,” “Right of course,” Liv said. They worked on the case for close to an hour, Rafael promising to get them warrants when he got back to his office. Afterwards, his breath caught as he tried to stand up, his hand going for his back. “Shit,” he whispered, grabbing the table to steady himself. Fin was right there to help him stay upright, “Can someone get the ibuprofen from my briefcase?” Liv quickly sifted through her friend’s briefcase, pulling out the bottle of ibuprofen and handing him two pills. “Papi! Papi! Look at my drawing!” Gabriella called, running out to him, but she stopped short when she saw the pained expression on his face, “Papi?” she asked softly, her face melting into tears again. Rafael shut his eyes, “I’m okay Gabriella, I promise,” he whispered, trying to reassure her. Liv came over, taking Rafa from his arms. “Here, counselor, let me help you,” Carisi offered, “Lieu, can I go shadow Barba for the day?” Olivia nodded immediately, Sonny was good with kids and right now, it looked like Barba could use all the help he could get. “Great, now I have three kids to look after,” Rafael joked, giving her a lopsided smirk, but she could tell how grateful he was. Rafael took the drawing from his daughter’s hands, “It’s beautiful mija,” he whispered. “It’s for mami,” she simply explained. “We can give it to her later. Now we need to go to papi’s office, let’s go,” Gabriella ran up and took his hand, Sonny taking Rafaelito. “Thank you Liv,” he whispered as he walked by. She just nodded, patting his arm, watching as he staggered out of view. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. It was five, and Liv needed to give Rafael back his briefcase. He had left it in the squad room that morning, and she honestly was shocked he hadn’t called her in a panic already. He always had it with him because he needed the papers in there, and it was his favorite one, it had been a birthday present from his wife. Olivia headed over to Carmen, the door of his office was shut, “Let me guess,” she said, “He’s not in there?” “Correct,” Carmen replied, looking up from her computer, “He rushed out of here around three,’ “Well, do you know where he is?” Liv asked, “He’s going to want this,” “Mr. Barba asked me not to tell anyone. It’s personal,” Carmen stated. “Well can you call him?” the detective insisted. Carmen thought for a second before agreeing to give it a shot. She dialed the number, “Mr. Barba, it’s Carmen, yes I know. I’m sorry to bug you, but Detective Benson is here and she says she needs to see you right now. Okay, yes I will,” Carmen hung up and turned back towards Olivia, writing something down on a piece of paper and handing it to her. “He’s expecting you,” “Thank you,” Liv replied, heading back out to her car. She sat down in the driver’s seat, taking a look at the paper and shaking her head slightly. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Liv strolled down the white hallway, looking for room 405. She finally found it and just stood there, not wanted to knock and interrupt anything. She could see him, reclined in a chair next to the hospital bed, his eyes shut. “And Papi took us to work and I met a big detective Mami, he was nice,” it was Gabriella’s voice that she heard. “Well that sounds fun honey,” Carson’s voice sounded soft and tired. Liv had met her more than once, and she liked Rafael’s wife. “Alright mija, mami is tired, abuelita will be here soon to take you and Rafa out for ice cream,” Rafael said gently, reaching to pull his daughter off the bed. “But Papi, you said you would take us out for ice cream,” Gabriella pouted, “I know princesa, I’m sorry, but I have to stay here with Mami,” Rafael whispered, “That’s not fair papi,” she crossed her little arms. “Gabriella, please don’t even start,” he said tiredly, but she was already starting to cry, and then her brother started to cry and Rafael had enough, “Hey,” he said sharply, “Stop it now or I will put you in time out,” “Rafael,” Carson whispered, “I’ve got this,” he insisted, “Come on. Sit on the couch now,” Rafael disappeared from view, and Gabriella’s soft sobs were still audible. “Now be quiet,” he returned, Rafaelito in his arms, bouncing him up and down. “Rafael,” Carson said softly again, “Babe, she’s just upset and tired, give her a break,” “I’ve got this Carson, it’s okay,” Rafael assured her. “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m not her mother anymore Rafi,” Carson snapped. He looked hurt. “Carson I didn’t mean-” “Well stop then, stop cutting me out of all these decisions. You took them to work? They could have stayed here,” she interrupted. “No they couldn’t have and you know that,” he lowered his voice, trying not to further upset his daughter, “It was fine, they had fun,” “Rafael, you look worn out. Are you sure you can do this, taking them to work, you aren’t taking care of yourself,” Carson whispered after a few minutes. “Relax Cariño, my mother was going to watch them, something came up. I’m fine, just a little tired,” Rafael replied gently. “Really, what’s the last thing you ate?” she fired back. “Chex mix,” he whispered a few minutes later, “For lunch? Again? This is what I’m talking about,” “Mom is bringing me dinner, Carson, I’m okay I promise, stop worrying about me,” Rafael whispered, brushing some hair out of her face. Olivia felt uncomfortable standing there, but she didn’t want to bug him either. Thankfully Lucia Barba strolled up to the door at that moment, “Detective Benson, right?” she asked, “You work with my son,” “Mrs. Barba, I’m just here to see Rafael quickly,” Olivia replied. “Let me get him,” Lucia said, smiling softly, “Rafi, someone here to see you,” she said, heading into the room. “Oh Liv, I’ll be out in a second,” Rafael called, “I’ll be right back mi amor, te amo okay?” he whispered before heading out into the hallway with her. “Hey, you left your briefcase at the precinct,” Liv said, holding it up. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere,” he replied, smiling softly, “Thank you,” He saw the look on her face, turning away for a second, sighing tiredly. “I didn’t want to say anything, I didn’t want to say it outloud,” “Rafael, you could have asked for help,” Liv whispered, “You’ve been running yourself ragged,” He was about to reply when his mom came out of the room, kids in tow, “Bye Papi,” Rafaelito called, waving. Rafael smiled, waving at his son. Gabriella still looked upset. “I have to show her I can do this, I can take care of them,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. A nurse came by, ready to head into her room, but Rafael stopped her, “Sorry, one second Liv, she’s sleeping in there,” he said, standing in front of the door, “Mr. Barba, the doctor sent me to put her chemo in,” the nurse explained. It was cancer then. Rafael got a look on his face, something that Liv couldn’t read. He tiredly ran a hand over his face, “Um, we talked,” he said tiredly, trying to keep his voice even, “Carson doesn’t want it anymore,” Liv had no idea how he had been dealing with this all on his own. “Mr. Barba-” “I talked to the oncologist yesterday, the cancer spread, it’s everywhere. She’s done, pain meds are fine, but she doesn’t want the chemo anymore or the radiation,” he insisted. The nurse finally nodded. “I’ll send the doctor to talk to you,” she offered, and Rafael just nodded, turning back to Liv. “Oh Rafael,” Liv whispered, pulling him into a hug. He leaned his face against her shoulder for a second before pulling back slightly. He sniffled, “It’s okay, I’m going to be okay,” she wasn’t sure if that was more for her benefit or for his. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. “Barba’s wife has cancer?” Carisi asked, his eyes going wide. Liv just nodded. “Damn, I didn’t even know Barba was married,” “Fifteen years they’ve been together. Married for seven I think,” Liv whispered, “They met in college. You’d like her Carisi,” “Does it look bad?” he asked softly. “It’s pancreatic, stage IV, they just stopped chemo for good. So yeah, it's as bad as it gets,” “Those poor kids,” Fin added, walking into the room. “Poor Barba,” Carisi whispered, shaking his head. “Everyone go easy on him, he needs some space right now,” Liv whispered. “I think he’s at his office, please no one mention any of this. We have to talk to him about the case, but don’t you start anything with him,” she looked pointedly at Carisi, “I know how you two get,” “Relax, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, smiling sadly at Liv. When they got to Barba’s office, the door was shut, but he was obviously in there. “You’re gonna have to wait, Mr. Barba is talking to his mother,” Carmen said, smiling at them, “He should be done in a few minutes,” “Go on in, we’re done,” Lucia said, a soft smile at the detectives as she left the room. When Liv walked in, Rafael was facing the window, a glass of bourbon in his hand. “Hey you,” she said simply. He turned to look at her and smiled slightly. “Hey guys, what’s up?” Rafael asked, turning towards them, accidentally sending a picture frame crashing to the ground off his desk. “Shit,” he hissed, kneeling down to pick up the pieces, he pulled his hand away from the glass, blood dripping from his fingers. “Here, counselor, let me help you,” Sonny offered, coming over and starting to pick up the glass. He turned the picture over and frowned. “Is this your wife?” he asked softly. It was indeed a photo of Rafael and Carson, one of their engagement pictures. Olivia just pressed her hand against her face, Sonny had basically just done what she didn’t want. He was bringing Rafael’s mind back to the issue at hand, not that he probably could ever completely banish it from his mind, but now he was actively thinking about her. “Yeah, that’s her,” Rafael simply replied, gratefully taking the tissues that Fin was handing to him and pressing them to his fingers. “You’re married to Carson Parks? How did I not know that?” Sonny kept talking and Liv wanted to strangle him. “Carisi,” she hissed. “It’s alright Liv,” Rafael sighed, standing up. “Damn, this is bleeding,” he hissed, pulling the saturated tissue away. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of three SVU detectives coming to visit me?” he asked. Liv grabbed his hand, putting more pressure on the wound. Liv was about to answer when his phone started to ring. He reached for it, shoving it between his shoulder and his ear so he could help Liv with his hand more, “Hello? Hey, what’s going on? Are you alright?” he was quiet for a few moments, “No, I’ll be there right away, that-I am not getting too worked up about this,” his face was starting to turn red, “Carson, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, sit tight,” Rafael hung up, turning towards the detectives, “I have to go, come with, I can talk on the way,” Olivia filled him in on the new information about the case on the ride to the hospital. They trailed him up to her floor, stopping short when the elevator opened and they were met with a hoard of media. “Who the hell told them she was here?” Rafael hissed, his skin starting to redden again. Liv put her hand on his shoulder. He did not need to go ballistic on these people. His muscles were tensed up, “Rafael, stay calm,” she whispered. “Stay calm?” he replied, clenching his jaw, “These vultures are here trying to get pictures, do you know how self conscious she is? All she wants right now is privacy, she wants to die in peace,” His voice broke at the end. Liv rubbed his shoulder slightly, nudging him down the hallway, “I hate this,” he whispered, “I hate this,” “I know,” was all Liv could say back, helping to shove through the hoards of people that were screaming questions at him. Rafael, is it true that Carson is stopping her chemo? Mr. Barba, how long do the doctors think she has? Mr. Barba! Rafael! Rafael! He was shaking slightly, he looked like he wanted to kill someone. Liv pushed through the last of the reporters. “Guys,” she whispered, “Come here, stand in front of the door,” Liv practically smuggled him into the room past the reporters and shut the door. “Hey,” Carson whispered from the bed. This was the first good look Liv had gotten at her. She looked like a skeleton, skin and bone, her face sunken, and she looked so tired. The last time Liv had seen her, just over half a year before, she had been vibrant and healthy. Carson had been getting ready to try and get back into the soccer scene after having taken time off to take care of Rafaelito, but she had deteriorated quickly. “Hey, you,” Rafael whispered, coming over to the bed and kissing her forehead, “Are you okay? It’s a mess out there,” Carson was quiet, leaning into his touch as he gently ran his hand through her hair. “You look tired,” he whispered later, “Do you want me to turn the lights out?” “No,” Carson whispered. She opened her eyes, looking up and seeing Liv, her face brightening, “Hey Liv, long time no see,” “It’s been too long, how are you feeling today?” Olivia asked gently, coming over to grip Carson’s hand. “Come here,” she whispered, hugging Liv, “You know, as good as can be expected,” Rafael headed over to the door, peeking out to see how it was going. “You guys can come on in,” he said softly, “Just be quiet,” Carisi and Fin filed in quietly as promised, Rafael pushing the door shut behind them. “Carson, you have some more visitors,” Rafael said gently. Carson seemed pretty out of it, only partially aware of her surroundings. It took her a few minutes to work up enough energy to say anything, “You must be Carisi,” she said, looking at the blond haired detective, “And you are Fin then,” “Yes ma'am,” Fin said with a smile. “I like you,” Carson said with a small laugh, sending her into a short coughing fit. She held up a hand when Rafael started to fuss over her. She was talking to Carisi. “You drive him a little crazy,” she added. Sonny grinned a goofy smile. Rafael just shook his head, laughing softly. She shut her eyes after that, but Liv wasn’t sure if she was asleep or just too drained to keep her eyes open and have a conversation. Rafael sat on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid any tubes or wires, and he just quietly tried to comfort her. “Based on what you guys said earlier, you can arrest Miller,” Rafael whispered eventually. “For Man One?” Fin asked, “I’m thinking bigger, one count of murder two, two of rape one. I’ll convene a grand jury here in a few days and get an indictment,” he replied. “I’ll call Rollins,” Sonny offered, pulling out his phone. “So where are the kids?” Fin asked softly. “With the babysitter,” Rafael murmured, “I’m going to pick them up later, bring them here for the evening provided Rafaelito doesn’t throw another tantrum. I had to drive him around for most of the night to get him to quiet down yesterday. Both of them are tired,” “How about I help you out with them tonight Barba,” Sonny said, coming back over, “I can color with Gabriella or something, we had fun at the precinct,” Rafael nodded gratefully. “Thank you guys,” he whispered. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Rafael didn’t mention it again for weeks afterwards. He was at work more than not, in court when he was supposed to, but he was visibly beaten down. Rafael was quiet, he was reserved, he was opposite of his usual self, and it worried Olivia. It wasn’t until over a month later, one late evening that Liv got a call. She picked up her phone, turning the page of a file, “Hello?” “Liv?” “Barba, what’s up?” she asked gently, standing up. She didn’t like his tone of voice at all. “Liv I really need your help, please,” Rafael whispered, “I’ll be right there,” Olivia promised, standing up and grabbing her jacket. When she got to the hospital, he was waiting in the hallway, Gabriella and Rafaelito in his arms. “Barba, what’s wrong?” “Liv,” he said, his face crumbling, “Can you stay with them on the couch or something, I don’t want them to watch when…” he trailed off, but she got the idea, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder, “Of course,” it was all she could think to say. There were no words to comfort him at the moment. “Princesa, we are going to go in there and give mami a big hug, I want you to tell her how much you love her, está bien?” Rafael murmured to Gabriella. “Si papi,” she replied. Liv stayed in the doorway as Rafael picked up Gabriella and carried her into the room, “Cariño, someone is here to see you,” he whispered. Carson opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “C’mere baby,” she whispered hoarsely. Rafael gently set her on the bed, and she hugged Carson tightly, “I love you mami,” Gabriella said, “I wish you were feeling better,” Rafael turned away for a second, quietly choking up. Carson just laid there with her little girl in her arms for a few minutes, “Gabriella,” she whispered, just loud enough that Liv could hear, “I love you so so much honey. Promise me you will be good for your papi,” “I promise mami,” “You give him a big hug for me later, yeah,” Carson whispered. Rafael was starting to lose it. “I will,” Rafael let Carson hold her for a while longer before picking Gabriella back up, “Go on out with Olivia,” he whispered. Rafael came over and took his son from her arms, “Hey buddy, come on, let’s see mami,” He lowered the toddler into Carson arms, “Rafa,” she whispered, tearing up herself, “You look just like your father,” she whispered, holding her baby close. Rafaelito knew something was wrong, he could sense the tension in the room. “Tell mami you love her,” Rafael murmured, “Mama,” Rafa whispered, copying what his father had said to him, “I wove you,” Carson laughed a little bit, stroking his hair. He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck, clinging. Rafael went to take him after a while, but Carson just held him tighter, “Not yet,” she whispered, obviously having a hard time breathing. “Mami loves you Raf, you be a good boy for papi,” She held tight to him for a few more seconds, kissing his little face. “Okay,’ Carson whispered finally, her voice barely audible. Rafael took the two year old, handing him to Liv. He picked up a tablet from the table, handing it to Liv with headphones for them both. “There are movies on there,” he whispered. Liv grabbed Rafael’s arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze, trying to comfort him. He just smiled sadly at her, turning around to go back to the bed. He sat down beside it, gripping Carson’s hand. “Here guys, come on, let’s go watch a movie,” Olivia murmured. walking them over the couch. The kids got distracted quickly, but Gabriella would peek over at her parents every now and then, realizing something was going on. Olivia tried not to eavesdrop but it was hard to not hear what they were saying. “Rafael, I’m scared,” Carson whispered, “I-I don’t want to die, Rafi, I’m not ready,” Rafael dropped his head, sucking in breaths raggedly, “I’m sorry,” he sobbed back, “I know, I’m scared too,” he pressed his lips against her hand, “I’m so scared, but it’s going to be okay, I promise,” Rafael stood up, “Here, let’s get you more comfortable,” he murmured. “You, breaking rules?” Carson whispered, jokingly, as he climbed behind her into the bed to hold her. “Guapo, I like this new you,” “Oh hush,” he murmured back, kissing her shoulder as she leaned against him, shutting her eyes and gripping his hand. “I let you talk me into all sorts of things,” “I can’t believe you let me blow you in your office,” she laughed, “That was a bad decision,” Rafael whispered back, stroking her arms and chest comfortingly, “A really, really bad decision,” Carson let out a hiss of breath, whimpering slightly. “Are you okay,” “Rafael, I’m dying, so no, not really,” she tried to joke, but instead her voice broke, “Me and the kids, we’re going to be fine, it’s going to be okay,” Rafael was trying to be reassuring, but he was also trying to hold back tears of his own,“And I’ll be here with you,” he added, “You won’t be alone,” “I know, it’s just, there was so much more I wanted to do,” Rafael kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek there as he let a few tears fall. He just whispered reassuring words to her for hours. Eventually, she was quiet, her eyes closed, and he just laid there, still whispering to her. The sun was just beginning to come up when her breathing began to shallow out. “It’s okay,” Rafael whispered, “We’re going to be okay, you go Car, you go. I love you,” he murmured over and over and over again to her until her heart rate flattened out. Olivia sat quietly, Gabriella asleep in her lap, little Rafael balanced against her shoulder. She could hear Rafael’s soft choked sobs as he just sat there, his eyes shut, rocking gently. When he finally stood up, he looked numb, his eyes puffy and red. “Rafael, I’m so so sorry,” Olivia whispered, easing out from under Gabriella. “I need to talk to Gabriella, oh god,” he murmured, wiping his eyes. Rafael gently woke her up, kneeling down in front of her. “Mija, papi needs to talk to you,” Gabriella rubbed her eyes, “Papi, what’s going on?” she asked groggily, looking closely at her father’s face. “Gabriella, do you remember when I talked to you about how mami was sick?” Rafael asked gently. Olivia headed out, trying to give the two some privacy. She wanted to help, but there was nothing to do that would make any of this better, not right now. Gabriella was sobbing when Rafael came out into the hall with her, “Papi, you said she was going to be okay,” she cried, clinging to Rafael, “I know what I said honey, I was wrong,” She just buried her face in his shirt after that, sniffling as Rafael collapsed onto the bench, kissing her head, starting to sob again himself. Liv just sat next to him, silently, little Rafael still asleep in her arms. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. “Come on, we’re gonna be late,” Carisi said, grabbing his black suit jacket from the back of his chair. Liv was just coming out of the bathroom, having changed into her black clothes. “Has anyone talked to Barba since last week?” she asked, “I haven’t heard a word from him since I took him home,” “Not a peep,” Sonny replied. “Nope,” Amanda echoed, the same coming from Fin. “Damn, he’s not taking my calls, he’s been silent,” Liv murmured, “Let’s go,” Liv was climbing into the car when her phone went off. “Hello?” “Detective Benson, it’s Carmen, I’m worried about Mr. Barba,” When Liv got to the D.A.’s office, she rushed up to find him. It was completely dark, he was sitting on the couch, an empty bottle of liquor on the table, another one in front of him. The floor was littered with broken glass and papers, one lone picture in his shaking hand. Chairs were turned over, books strewn across the floor. “Liv, what the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, taking another sip of his drink. Olivia sat down next to him, wracking her brain for anything to say to the grief ridden man. He looked beat down. “I think the better question is what are you doing here?”she finally replied. “Rehearsing for a Broadway musical, what the hell does it look like,” Rafael snapped. Liv grabbed his arm when he started to stand, “Rafael, come on,” she whispered, taking the glass from his hand, but he ripped his arm away, starting to pace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered a few seconds later, his voice breaking, “I-I’m just having a bad day, I didn’t mean to-” “Don’t worry about it,” Liv interrupted, standing up, and putting a hand on his shoulder, “Sit down, talk to me,” “No offense Liv, but it’s not you I want to talk to right now,” Rafael replied, reaching for his drink, but she pulled it away. He turned away, running his hands through his hair, “What am I even doing,” He had on a slightly wrinkled shirt, his hair wasn’t even close to neat. Rafael looked like a mess. “Rafael, take a breath,” Olivia whispered, “Let’s clean this up,” He tiredly rubbed his face, “That’s a good idea,” he finally murmured, kneeling down and gathering up the things he had thrown. After a few minutes of silence, them both picking things up, Rafael turned towards her, his eyes bloodshot and haunted, “I don’t sleep anymore Liv,” he whispered, “I just lay in my dark room, in our damn bed that’s suddenly too big, and I remember all the things I wished I would have done differently. I should have let her get the kids a dog, she wanted a puppy, and I said no. I should have-there are so many things that I did wrong,” He dropped his head into his hands, “Why did I-why didn’t I tell her I loved her more often, why did I work so much?” Liv reached out, pulling his head to her shoulder, stroking his hair as he sobbed. “You couldn’t have known, this wasn’t your fault. She knew how much you loved her,” she whispered to him. He finally was just sniffling, his chest heaving. Liv rubbed a hand across his back. “I’m so angry, I’m angry at her for leaving me, I wanted more time, and that sounds horrible, I know, but I’m angry. I don’t even know what to say to my kids,” he fell back, sitting and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Gabriella started sucking her thumb again, she hasn’t done that since she was two. She won’t sleep anywhere but in bed with me, she’s scared of the dark again,” Liv just let him talk, trying not to make it worse by trying to fix the situation, “Yesterday, she asked me if I was going to die too, I can’t even, I don’t know what to say,” “She’ll adjust Rafael, all of that is normal when she’s suffered this type of loss,” Liv whispered, “Just assure her that it is unlikely that you would die, be honest,” Rafael nodded, toying with the cuff of his shirt. He wiped at his tears that started to fall again, “Rafa doesn’t even know what happened I don’t think. I told him, but he just asks me over and over when she’s coming home, where she is. I keep telling him, I keep trying to explain. I’m trying so damn hard, but I can’t do this. I can’t do this without her,” “I know, I know this is hard,” Liv whispered. “I gave them ice cream for dinner last night, fucking ice cream, I’m awful. How am I supposed to hold their world together when I am falling apart?” “Just take it one day at a time,” They picked up the rest of it in silence, “Now, let’s go, I don’t think this is something you want to miss,” He just nodded, following her out to the car, preparing to say goodbye one last time. ………………………………………………………………………………………….. Epilogue “Papi! Papi! Rafa drew all over my paper!” Gabriella shrieked. Rafael dropped his briefcase in his office, tiredly rubbing his face. “Rafael, come here,” he called, walking out into the kitchen where his ten year old daughter was working on homework. The seven year old bolted into the kitchen, “Did you draw on your sister’s paper?” he asked sternly. Rafa shook his head, “He did too!” Gabriella insisted. Rafael sternly looked at his son who then hung his head and nodded. “Feed the dog and then go to your room. I’ll call you when dinner is here,” Rafael instructed. His son dutifully headed over to the closet to get the dog food out. Rafael tiredly poured himself a glass of water before collapsing down into a chair at the table. “How was your day at school mija?” he asked softly, shutting his eyes. “It was good,” Gabriella said, starting to babble. Rafael opened his eyes and looked at her, smiling sadly. She looked so much like her mother, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, the cute way she scrunched up her nose when she got angry, the dimple that appeared on the left side of her face. “Papi,” her voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Lo siento princesa, what did you say? I got distracted,” he quickly said. “Do you know what a nu-nucleus is?” she asked, struggling to say the word. Rafael frowned, he knew it had something to do with cells, something with science, but that was not something he was good at. At all. “What are you working on?” he asked softly, trying to figure out how much information she really needed. “Science flashcards for next unit. It’s just the vocabulary list,” Gabriella replied, holding out her paper for him to see. Rafael took a look at it, shaking his head, “You are so smart Gabriella, this is a question that your mother would-” he trailed off, standing up, “Sorry cariño, I don’t know,” he amended, heading to the cabinet for the bourbon. He just needed one glass to take the edge off. Gabriella was silent for a few minutes. “Why don’t we ever talk about Mami?” her little voice pierced the tense silence in the room. Rafael took a sip of the amber liquid, frowning. That couldn’t be true, they talked about Carson, they did, “We do too talk about Mami,” he argued, turning to face her. “No we don’t,” Rafa’s voice was soft from the hallway. Rafael knew he should tell the seven year old to go back to his room where he was supposed to be, but he had already been in there for a while, and this was more important. “We don’t?” he finally asked, sitting back down. Rafa came out, sitting across from his sister. They both shook their heads, “What about when we go visit her on her birthday?” “Well we go see her and take flowers, but I don’t even know what Mami’s favorite color was,” Gabriella replied. “Yeah, I don’t even know what Mami looked like,” Rafa added. Rafael took a gulp of his drink, guilt beginning to overwhelm him. It still hurt like a gaping hole in his chest when he thought about it, but he couldn’t not tell his children about their mother. That wasn’t fair to anyone. “Okay, well how about we talk about Mami now,” he whispered, “Come on, I have something to show you,” Rafael took his son’s hand, Gabriella trailing them as he walked down the hallway. “Well for starters,” he said, “Mami’s favorite color was green and Rafa, if you look at your sister, that is what Mami looked like,” Rafael stopped in front of the door that he hadn’t opened in years. He had to take a deep breath, “Papi, I thought we weren’t supposed to go in here,” Gabriella whispered. “This is the scary room,” Rafa whispered. Rafael turned towards his son, “This room isn’t scary Rafael, this room was Mami’s office,” he explained, opening the door to reveal the walls that were covered in Carson’s jerseys and scarves, her diploma from Harvard. Her old laptop sat untouched on her desk, papers strewn all over the place. All of the old pictures of them were stacked on a table, her awards on the shelves just like he left them five years before. He had shut all of it away, somewhere where it didn’t hurt so much, somewhere that it didn’t make him feel like he was going to suffocate. “Here, come here,” he sat down on the couch, pulling Rafael up into his lap, and Gabriella sat next to him, “You see all of these jerseys?” Rafael said softly, smiling sadly, “Mami used to be a really, really good soccer player. She played for the New York Flash,” “She played soccer like me,” Gabriella said excitedly, “Si mija, you are a lot like your mami, she wanted so badly to see you grow up. She was so excited that you liked sports even when you were five,” Rafael explained. “What about me?” Rafa asked, “Am I like Mami?” Rafael felt a warm feeling inside of him. It hurt to talk about her, but at the same time, to remember her, to remember all of the good things that they had, he felt like she could be there with him. “You, Rafael, make me think of your mother all the time. You are stubborn like her, you make me laugh all the time just like she used to. You both have part of her inside of you, and every time I look at you two, I think of her,” They both were smiling. “How did you meet mami?” Gabriella asked. Rafael smiled fondly, “I spilled coffee all over her in college. She graduated a few years after me at Harvard,” He said, laughing softly. They both started giggling, and Rafael grabbed a picture from the table, “Here, let’s look at some pictures,” Rafael teared up slightly, looking at the pictures, at her beautiful smile. He felt like he would get up and go into the bedroom and there she would be, smiling at him, joking, making him laugh. It hurt, but it was okay. He should have done this a long, long time ago.

#rafael barba #law and order svu #angst #poor rafi #raúl esparza #character death #original female character #RafaelxOFC #Barba #established relationship #olivia benson

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