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maddiwrites · 3 years

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Secret Lives

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned.

Note: Hi guys! This is my first writing piece. I tried not to do a two parter for my first one but it ended up being so long. Sorry! I would love to hear your feedback so feel free to leave me a message! Part two will be posted soon. Also I have completed a rewrite of the show with a JJ x Routledge sister pairing so keep an eye out for that! Also wanna shout out @skiesofthesketchy @malfoyfarms @collecting-stories because they were some of the first masterlists I read and I loved them and it inspired me to write my own. So thank you!

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, angst, very slight mentions of abuse

Part 2

Y/N Y/L/N. That’s you. Or as some like to call you, Hannah Montana. You live the best of both worlds, living it up on Figure Eight and wearing hundred dollar dresses to fancy dinners and parties, sneaking expensive mimosas to brunches with your friends, and getting biweekly mani pedi’s with your sister. Meanwhile, when you’re not rolling around in the luxuries of Kook Life, you’re rolling around in the dirt with your Pogue friends, baking in the sun on a dirty small boat while drinking the cheapest beer one of the boys’ could get their hands on. Most Kooks hated you even when they wanted to be you. And most Pogues didn’t trust you even as they tried getting in your pants.

One of them being JJ Maybank.

Kiara introduced you to her group of friends right after freshman year. The two of you were the black sheep of Kook Academy. Both your families have money, sure. But you weren’t jerks about it. You enjoy a little pampering here and there, but you’re not tone deaf and superficial like the rest of your peers. You were so grateful that your science teacher paired you two together for that year’s science fair. You instantly clicked with the curly brunette and spent most of the class talking about whatever came to mind instead of actually brainstorming project ideas. After working together for months on a science fair project with a shared passion of wanting to help save the environment, Kie finally introduced you to her best friends.

John B and Pope immediately made you feel like one of the group. Sure, they were curious about your life but you never felt like you were being interrogated with questions. They included you on inside jokes and even gave you the nickname ‘Sassy’ after proving to them that you can hold your own in a verbal fight.

Thanks to JJ.

From the start he claimed to never like you. He hated where you were from, who your parents were, and that you never had a job. He hated that you didn’t even have to try to get people to like you. In his eyes, everything was handed to you on silver platter. You had a picture perfect life and all you had to do was bat your eyelashes and show off your pearly white teeth. He couldn’t stand you.

Yet, he was dangerously attracted to you.

He loved the way your hair shined against the setting sun, he loved that you didn’t wear makeup every single day like every other Kook on the island, he loved how your white jean shorts perfectly shaped your curves, and he loved how your temper was as equally as short as his because it made you fighting with him that much hotter.

Last night was no different than every other night with you and your friends. It was quiet, spent around a bonfire in John B’s back yard. You sipped on cheap beer from the can while the smell of JJ’s marijuana smoke wafted through the air. Kie lightly strummed the strings of her ukulele while Pope and JJ bickered about the pros and cons of smoking weed.

This was your family. You had friends on the other side of the island too but you weren’t as close as you were with the Pogues. You would do anything for the people surrounding you. Even JJ. You tried to tell yourself you hated him just as much as he hated you, but you couldn’t help but feel like every other girl on this island, falling for his ocean blue eyes and golden locks. His wit and his charm. His loyalty and protectiveness of his friends. How he looked with his shirt off. How he would wink at you when he caught you staring. You wished you didn’t, but you loved him.

“Hellooo, Y/N?” John B waved his hand in front of your face. You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

John B smirked but didn’t say what he was thinking. He always thought you and JJ were acting dumb when it was clear as day that the two of you were attracted to each other. He always caught you two staring at one another when the other wasn’t looking. You two would always ask about the other person when they weren’t there even if it was just to throw a sharp jab behind their back.

“I asked you what you were up to this weekend.”

“Oh,” You shrugged. “Probably run some errands, babysit my neighbor’s kids...”

Just like Hannah Montana, you also lived a secret life. Your life wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought it was, but you’d never admit to it. Your mother would be crushed, your friends would find you stupid and pathetic, and you would hate yourself even more than you already did.

“Good. Sunday we’re going to check out the surfing competition on Seasill Beach. JJ’s trying to qualify for it next year.”

Your smile immediately dropped. “Sunday. Oh.”

“Already got a spa day planned, Princess?” JJ smirked from across the way.

“I, uh,” You tried your best to fake a grin. “I’m sorry. I can’t go. I already have plans.”

You held you breath as you waited for someone to respond. This was the third time this month you flaked on your friends without a good explanation. You never knew what to tell them, only that you had plans. You were afraid if you said anything else, they’d find out you were lying.

“Again?” Kie stopped playing her ukulele to look at you. “Seriously. Is there some secret boy we should know about or something?”

You scoffed. “No.”

You felt the most guilty lying to Kie. After all she was your best friend. The one you were supposed to be able to share everything with, even the stuff you couldn’t tell your parents.

“Kie’s right. You bailed on us last week last minute too,” Pope said.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your head wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie.

“We all knew this day would come.” JJ’s smirk was gone. He flicked the butt of his joint into the fire and claps off the ash from his hands. “Hannah Montana dips her toes into the wild life. She feels free and independent long enough to decide she’d rather go back to her cookie cutter life and live with all the privilege that daddy has to offer.”

The word ‘daddy’ physically made you flinch. Your eyes narrowed in a tight glare as you dug your fingernails into the palm of your hand, hating that this was the way JJ thought of you.

“J...” John B tried to warn him but JJ didn’t listen.

“No, seriously.” JJ stood up. “I bet the reason she’s not telling us what all her ‘plans’ are is because she knows you’ll all be disappointed. Me? Well, I couldn’t care less whether you hung out with us or not. In fact, I’ve been praying for it. So tell us, Y/N, what are you doing that you won’t tell us? If it’s not some dude, then maybe you decided you’d rather be a Kook. Are you going to fancy lunches and riding yachts across the ocean? Maybe you’re spitting in the faces of the people who work to make your life easier. Maybe -”

“JJ!” Kie yelled.

You stood up, your vision turning red and your skin going hot. Usually you could take JJ’s insults. You were use to JJ throwing your family’s money in your face, trying to make you feel bad for something you can’t control, but this was too much. Because now he was calling you out on your loyalty to your friends. And he was so far from the truth.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You said. The other three stood up when you took a step in JJ’s direction. John B stood close to you. He didn’t know what you were going to do, but he’s never heard your voice so low and threatening in a long time. The other time was with a Kook who was giving JJ shit. Ironically. “For me to just leave.”

“I didn’t stutter, did I?”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere. In fact, because I’m such a nice friends, I’m going to give you some free advice. First, the last thing you want to question me about is my loyalty to the people who’s lives I would put before my own. Second, I would suggest removing that stick up your ass because it seems like your way too uptight to handle it.”

JJ glared at you and didn’t move to respond. A part of you was surprised he didn’t have anything to come back with and the other part of you was relieved.

The thick tension between you and your friends was suffocating. Your night had been effectively ruined by a simple question. But the sad part is, you didn’t even know who to blame. JJ, or the other man causing most of your guilt and grief.

“Y/N/N...” Kie tried stopping you as you gathered your stuff to leave.

“I’m out of here.”

You stormed out of the backyard and into your car. There was only so much you could take until you broke. And you were not going to give JJ Maybank the satisfaction of seeing you break.

***********************

You couldn’t fall asleep last night. JJ’s words kept replaying in your head like a bad song stuck on replay. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to blame him for not trusting you. But instead, you hated yourself. Because you’re the reason he can’t trust you. Cause you have secrets you don’t want shared.

Your thumb hovered over his contact. Not JJ’s. The man who’s made your life a living hell for the last sixteen years. You wanted to scream and cry and slap him in his face. But instead, you stayed frozen in fear. Like the little pathetic girl he says you are. And you hated yourself more for proving him right.

Your attention was taken away when someone busted through your bedroom door out of breath. Kie immediately went to your drawers and pulled out the first bathing suit she could find and threw it at you.

“Kie -”

“We need to go,” She said. “Get dressed.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Pope and John B ran out of gas doing grocery runs for Heyward. We need to get them with the HMS Pogue.”

“Where’s JJ? Why can’t he help you?”

“He’s working,” Kie said quickly. “Come on.”

***********************

You and Kie found Heyward’s boat stranded in the middle of the marsh like Kie said it would be. John B and Pope were waiting for you on the back and thanking you both for coming to help. You hold the gas as they helped you onto the boat. They directed you to the tank while they helped Kie.

As soon as you made your way to the front of the boat, you heard the engine of the Pogue rev and take off. You dropped the gasoline gallon and sprinted to the back of the boat where they left you. John B and Pope waved back to you as Kie drove them back to the Chataeu.

“What the hell?” You yelled at them to come back.

“You and JJ need to work your shit out!” John B yelled back to you.

“What...” You mumbled to yourself before you heard the sound of heavy footsteps running towards you. You gasp in surprise when a sweaty JJ passed you to glare at the boat that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

“What the fuck?” He screamed.

“There’s food and blankets in the cabin!” Pope yelled back.

“We’ll come get you in the morning,” Kie said.

You clenched your teeth together with frustration. JJ looked just as pissed off and small part of you was disappointed with that. He turned around, cursing to himself and hitting random shit in his way.

This was going to be a long day.

***********************

After four hours, you and JJ still hadn’t spoken to each other. He took over the cabin while you laid out on the back of the boat. Your head was running with different thoughts. Should you try to make up with JJ? Should you just continue to ignore him? Should you tell him why you can’t go to the surfing competition tomorrow?

You didn’t know what to do but you knew you couldn’t sit here in silence anymore.

You reluctantly stood in front of him with crossed arms. He was smoking a blunt and looking out into the setting sun. If you were friends, you would take a picture of him right now. The pink sky painted his skin perfectly.

“What?” He said without looking at you.

“Seriously?” You raised one brow. “We’re asked to do one thing on this boat and that’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not sorry for what I said last night.”

“Neither am I.”

“Fine.”

You rolled your eyes. The problem with both of you was that you’re both stubborn. But if the problem with JJ couldn’t be fixed today, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to put up with his rude remarks and assumptions about you.

“What the hell is your problem?” You said.

“My problem?”

“Yeah. Your problem. You’ve been treating me like shit ever since Kie introduced me to you. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so goddamn much?”

JJ shook his head in annoyance. “I’m not doing this.”

He got up and walked to the back of the boat where you were sulking not even five minutes ago. You followed him like the stubborn person you were and you continued to grill him.

“I’ve tried so hard to be your friend. I’ve bought you drugs, I’ve even done yours and JB’s laundry. I put in a good word to the tourons who ask about you at boneyard parties. I laugh at your jokes, even when they’re about my friends. I try so hard to be on your good side and you still want nothing to do with me!”

“Because you’re a Kook!”

“So?”

“You have everything. Money, family, friends, a future. I don’t trust you because I don’t know what the hell you want with us. What do we possibly have that you can’t get on Figure Eight? Hm? Are you trying to prove a point to your mom that you don’t need her? You trying to prove to your dad that you’re a tough girl and don’t need his money or protection to keep you safe? Huh?”

“You know what your problem is? You don’t listen! I’ve told you time and time again that I don’t care about any of those things. I hang out with you guys because you are my friends. I have a good time when I’m with you. Why is that so hard for you to get?”

JJ scoffed. “Please. You don’t think I see you constantly checking your cell phone? Making sure no one can see who you’re texting? If we’re such good friends, why won’t you tell us what you’re doing tomorrow? You always have ‘other plans’ and then you never tell us what they are.”

“Because that’s none of your business!”

“If my friends are going to get hurt because of some lying bitch then it is my business!”

You were breathing so heavily, you were basically panting. Your blood felt like it was boiling under your skin and your head felt fuzzy with lack of thoughts. You didn’t know what to say, truly lost for words.

JJ took another step closer to you. You’re so close to him, you can feel his breath on your face and see every mark on his skin. You never knew he had a scar right above his brow or a freckle under his ear. He smelled like weed and sun sunscreen and his breath like mint. Had you not been fired up with rage, you would have thought he looked hot and maybe even made a move.

But now it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I’m sick and tired of you spoiled brats getting everything you want. You’re nothing but a spoiled rich kid who doesn’t even know the kind of privilege she has if it hit her in the face. You can’t relate to anything we have to go through. You don’t have to get dirt underneath your fingernails to make a buck. You don’t have to wonder where your next meal is coming from. You wouldn’t last a week on the Cut because you’ve never known what it’s been like to live the life we do!”

“You don’t know anything about me!” You snapped. The heart in your chest felt like it was being shredded to pieces by a rapid wolf. You felt like you were being torn apart one by one with each insult he threw in your face. Little did he know, he was wrong.

“I know enough to never want to see you again. I will never accept you into our group of friends. Don’t you get that? So you can stop playing the nice girl act around me and go back to Sarah Cameron and the other Kooks that you still hang out with despite knowing everything they’ve done to us. To Kie!”

Bringing up the fight between Kie and Sarah was a low blow and JJ knew it. It was something you always struggled with because you continued to be friends with both of them separately. At first, they were both mad at you but then accepted your friendship when they came around to loving the idea that you would fight for both of them. You tried getting them to talk and make up, but both of them refused. Maybe you should just stick them on a boat in the middle of nowhere and force them to work it out.

Although, clearly your experience with it wasn’t going so well.

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well life’s not fair sweet heart. But you wouldn’t know about that.”

You thought the fight last night was bad. But this one took the icing off the cake. You wished so desperately that Kie had just trapped you both in a locked room, so at least you had the chance to break out and run away from the darkness that was clouding around you.

You were most upset that this was how JJ thought of you. You didn’t know if you would have the same devastating reaction if someone else had said these things to you. You wanted so badly to be friends with the blonde Pogue. You saw the way he interacted with his friends and you wanted to be a part of that small circle so badly, you would almost do anything to be in it.

But you didn’t think you could last another second of being belittled and tormented with JJ’s outspoken feelings towards you. You wished there was a rewind button so you could go back to bed and hopefully never wake up and you’d lock your door so Kie couldn’t break in.

You swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall and admit your defeat. You wanted to find the nearest corner and crawl into it and escape the murderous glare of JJ Maybank. JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because in this moment, you still wanted him. And you were just realizing that you never will.

“You judge me by the surface. You’ve never once tried to get to know me. You don’t ask. You just assume that I’m like every other kid on Figure Eight. You don’t know where I’ve came from. What I’ve been through. What I live with. You don’t know my plans for the future or my hobbies or even my favorite color because you didn’t ask!” Adrenaline pushes through your veins like a wave of energy. You’ve never felt so powerful but so small in your life.

“All right. So tell me,” JJ said. “Tell me whatever story you can think of that will change my mind about you.”

You paused, standing there face to face with someone who will never accept you. You were suddenly overcome with so many emotions you didn’t know which one to choose from. Anger, sorrow, fear, confusion, shame.

You couldn’t believe you even thought about telling JJ your story. A story that you haven’t even told Kie. The story about how you were actually born and raised on the far end of the south side. How your dad use to abuse your mother right in front of you before she managed to escape when you were eight. For six months you lived in her car before she got a job as a housekeeper at a cheap motel used mostly for hookers and their cliental. Her employer let you live rent free if your mom accepted a cheaper pay check. During one of her shifts, your mother ran right into Andrew Y/L/N. No, he wasn’t one of the hooker’s clients. He was actually on the property looking to buy out the place. Even though he was a Kook, he looked through the housekeeper’s uniform into my mom’s heart and loved everything about her. He took her on a couple dates, then less than a year later, married her. You changed your last name to his because you didn’t want any relation to your father anymore. You thought the man was scum and deserved to rot in hell for everything he put your mom through. You hated him and even wished for him to die. Sometimes you even thought about doing it yourself. But then you saw him again. At a gas station in the middle of The Cut. You couldn’t believe he recognized you and you were even more shocked he had the audacity to talk to you. And you listened. He told you how sorry he was. How he never meant to hurt your mom. How he missed his baby girl and wanted to be in her life again. You fell for every word because a part of you you didn’t know existed missed having a biological dad.

That was your biggest mistake.

He didn’t change. He was still the same bastard he was eight years ago, using violence and threats with people much weaker than him to get what he wanted. He loved guilting you with your new luxuries. How you now had everything right under your fingertips after you left him to wither away with nothing. He said you owed him. Because you were his daughter and you were supposed to love him unconditionally. And you fell for it every time. He never hurt you like he hurt your mom. A few slaps here and there but nothing to leave a mark to get your mother questioning.

So now you were trapped - trapped in his world and in his life. Using your own money that you actually worked for, little did JJ know, to pay for his bills, his drugs, and sometimes, even his bail.

You didn’t tell anyone about this secret life because you didn’t want anyone to make you feel any more pathetic and weak than you already felt. And most importantly, you didn’t want to hurt your mother by telling her you’ve been supporting the one person she’s been trying to protect you from.

And you were about to risk that by telling someone who probably still wouldn’t care about you even after hearing what you had to say. You are who you are. If JJ didn’t like you now, he shouldn’t like you after telling him your story, anyway.

“No.” You shook your head.

“No?” JJ scoffed. “I’m finally asking you tell me something and you’re saying no?”

“Because you don’t care, JJ! Not really. You think knowing my sob story is going to get you to like me? I don’t need a pity friendship. I am who I am because of shit I’ve had to overcome. And this is me now. So if you don’t like it, then fine. We’ll do it your way and call it quits.” JJ didn’t say anything as you turned around to find somewhere to pass out in hopes of getting morning to come faster.

You found a blanket deep into the cabin and pulled it over your body, shielding yourself away from the world. You hoped the darkness would sweep through your head so you wouldn’t be plagued with torturous thoughts about your past or what’s going to happen to tomorrow. You cried - you cried because even after JJ ripped into your like a zoo animal, he still hated you.

JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because you didn’t have him.

***********************

Surprisingly, the sun rose sooner than you expected it to. Sleeping on the swaying boat wasn’t as awful as you thought it was going to be. In fact, it was kind of peaceful with the stars above you and the sound of moving water right under you.

The morning wasn’t so calming. You were slapped in the face with memories of the night before. Your stomach twisted at the thought of being face to face with JJ again. You knew what you had to do and thinking about it made you sick and depressed.

You pushed yourself up and checked the time on the radio. 8:03. Anxiety instantly flooded through you. You only had two hours to get home to be ready in time to run ‘errands’ with your dad.

You looked out to the back of the boat where JJ was looking into the horizon, probably waiting for your friends to come.

Fresh set of tears pricked your eyes at what’s to come. You loved your friends and you even loved JJ. But you couldn’t stay with the Pogues. You didn’t want to make JJ any more uncomfortable than he already was and you were afraid the constant fighting would push your friends further apart. You didn’t want to be the reason for that.

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and walked next to JJ. Without a word, you looked out in the same direction he was looking and admired the morning sun.

Surprisingly, JJ was the first one to speak. He looked at you and instantly felt guilty all over again. He tossed and turned all night contemplating on whether he should wake you up to apologize or just wait until morning. He knew he wasn’t being fair. You’ve done nothing but tried to earn his trust since day one. You accepted him for all his flaws and he couldn’t do the same for you. Yeah there was the phone thing and not telling the others what you’re up to, but it wasn’t like you were constantly in his business. If you see him with unexplained bruises, you don’t pester him about it. If he comes back to the Chateau in a pissy mood and blames it on a fight with his dad, you try to make him forget about it with a distraction instead of making him tell you what the fight was about. Why couldn’t he give you the same respect?

Truth was he wasn’t so much worried about his friends getting hurt as he was getting hurt. He liked you more than a friend should which would make your departure from your friends that much more heartbreaking for him. He never felt this way over a girl, let a lone a Kook and he tried so desperately to hate you. But it didn’t work. Instead, it made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world. He wanted to fix what he broke. He told himself he still had time left. His friends weren’t back yet to get him.

“Listen, Y/N -”

“It’s fine, J,” You sniffled. This time you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks. You tried blinking them away which only made them fall faster. You hated crying in front of people. Your dad always said it was a sign of weakness and you believed him. You wouldn’t be surprised if JJ laughed in your face right now and called you a loser. “It’s done.”

“What are you talking about?”

JJ’s heart physically broke when he saw your tears. He had never seen you cry. Not even out of joy. He couldn’t believe he was the cause of this. That he had made someone as beautiful and as kind as you actually feel bad about herself. He wished he could take back time and start over. He wished he gave her a chance from the beginning. He wished it wasn’t too late.

You both looked up when you heard the engine of the HMS Pogue. In the distance, you could hear your friends laughing and calling out to you, not yet realizing their plan went to shit. You had to make this quick.

“The last thing I want is to get between you and your friends. You don’t have to worry about me hurting anyone, especially Kie. I’ll back off.” You said, making JJ’s brows furrowed in confusion and his heart raced with worry. “I’m giving you what you want. I’ll stay out of your life.”

JJ couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he drove you to do the one thing he actually never wanted you to do. “Wait. You’re leaving?”

You looked JJ in the eyes and he wished you didn’t. Because for the first time, he didn’t see the light behind your eyes or the little crinkle in the corner when you smiled. They were dull and lifeless, making him sick to his stomach.

“I didn’t stutter. Did I?” You used his words from the other night and it felt like a stab in the heart to JJ.

JJ was left speechless which almost never happens. He wished he could say something, anything, to make you feel differently, to tell you he was wrong and sorry. But nothing came out. He could barely breathe.

“Hey you crazy kids,” Kie’s voice pierces the air, jokingly and airy. If only she knew that wasn’t how you were feeling.

“Missing a key or something?” John B joked alongside her.

“You should have called us sooner!” Pope added.

When the boat came closer to yours, they finally got a look at the two of you. They were shocked to see you silently crying and looking like all the life had been sucked out of you. JJ looked mad but they couldn’t tell whether he was mad at you or them or himself.

The three of them went sick with anxiety, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea. Kie tried to get you make eye contact, but you wouldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at any of them - afraid you might actually break completely if you did.

“Y/N/N...” Kie said softly.

“You guys okay?” John B asked wearily.

JJ helped Pope tie The Pogue to Heyward’s boat and hopped on right after. Pope traded spots with JJ and came up beside you and stood there awkwardly. He didn’t know what to do either.

You looked up at him before he could come up something probably stupid to ask. “Can you drop me off please?”

Pope glanced back at his friends and nodded. “Uh, sure. John B will probably get you there faster though if you -”

“No, it’s okay,” You said. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle being in an enclosed space with JJ for another minute. You just wanted to go home and forget the past two years ever happened. “I’ll stay here.”

Pope shrugged at his friends when you trudged back into the cabin and curled yourself into the corner. You didn’t know what the next few weeks would be like, but you hoped they go better than the last twenty four hours did.

#jj maybank fic #jj x reader #jj fic #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Meet the Parents

Pairing: Cordell x Trevor x Stella

Rating: 18+

Summary: When Stella brings her boyfriend home from college to stay the weekend, they are planning on doing a bit more than just “spending the night together”... and it certainly turns out to be more than that once Cordell overhears them in Stella’s room.

Word Count: 4.7k

Created for: @walker-bingo Free Space | @anyfandomgoesbingo Meet the Parents/Family

Tags/Warnings: Incest, Father/Daughter Incest, Threesome, fingering (f and m rec), oral (f rec), rimming, instruction kink, daddy kink, p in v, p in a, condoms, creampie

A/N: I’m going to hell, please come keep me company.

Stella had gotten back from college earlier that afternoon, usual bag of laundry in tow, but she had some extra baggage this time - the boyfriend. Cordell has heard whispers of ‘the boyfriend’ from August, who spoke to his sister a little more regularly than he did, not surprisingly. No eighteen year-old fresh out of their parents’ house wants to be texting their father 24/7, but he would have appreciated some kind of heads up that they were expecting company for the weekend.

Cordell’s sitting in the den, bourbon in hand, listening to the crickets outside chattering away, but they aren’t quite loud enough to drown out the soft giggles and whispers that are leaking from Stella’s room right now. He feels his hand clench around his glass almost like it’s a phantom limb, everything feels numb except for his ears, burning with the strain of trying to listen to what Stella and Trevor might be saying. He’s confident that whatever it is they are talking about, he doesn’t actually want to overhear the conversation.

Draining the remainder of his drink, Cordell makes his way to the counter to pour a refill.

He wasn’t going to bed until he knew for a fact that everyone else had gone to sleep, and from the sounds of it, Trevor and Stella weren’t exactly close to settling in. There’s a short burst of laughter and a ‘shh’, and Cordell looks up at his daughter’s closed bedroom door, moodily.

His mind flashes back to his baby girl sneaking into the kitchen an hour ago, small pyjama shorts riding up far too high, clearly rooting through the fridge for some beers to sneak back to her room. She’d jumped when Cordell cleared his throat behind her, sitting forwards from his spot on the couch, so the light of the refrigerator caught on his stern face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Stella Blue?”

“Hi, Dad,” she squeaks, tucking her hands behind her in the fridge. “Just, um,” she scrambles for something out of sight, “grabbing this.” Stella pulls a soda from behind her back.

“Really?” Cordell smirks, not angry, he’d been expecting something like this - that’s why he was up and sitting on the couch, waiting. “Caffeine? At this hour?” Even August, teenage boy obsessed with the internet that he is, had turned out his lights and gone to bed a little while ago.

“I - uh…” Stella grimaces.

“Why don’t you put that back, Stels?” He feels his lips tighten and brows furrow in his best attempt at ‘stern dad’ without looking angry. For a moment, Stella looks like she’s going to argue but then she thinks better of it, puts away the soda, and slinks back to her room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Another giggle breaks him from his reverie and his hand closes into a fist against the cold granite counter, fighting the urge to knock and tell them to go to bed. He downs the new measure of bourbon he’s just poured out, desperately wishing he could erase some of the things he’s heard tonight. But the alcohol and the burning in his throat do nothing to block out the soft groan that slips from beneath his daughter’s door.

It was so quiet, he isn’t positive he’d heard it. And his Ranger brain kicks in, trying to find any possible explanation for what the noise could have been; the wind outside, an animal in the ranch paddock… the creak of a bed spring. That is definitely what the new sound he’s just heard is – a muffled squeak as bodies shift on a too old mattress and less than well-oiled box spring. It’s quickly followed by another quiet groan, and Cordell grits his teeth and takes a long swig of bourbon, foregoing the formality of pouring it into the glass first.

The bottle is halfway to his lips again when he hears a small, high-pitched whine – Stella’s – but something seems … off. Cordell has known his baby girl for eighteen years. He knows what she sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she’s hurt. There’s another small whimper and Cordell strains to hear better. He needs to be sure. The third time he hears it he’s certain. That’s not a happy sound coming from his daughter’s bedroom, it’s one of discomfort, one of pain. Cordell bursts through the door in a fury, already rolling up his sleeves in preparation for tearing this Trevor kid in two for hurting his baby girl.

“Aah, Dad!” Stella screams, pulling her pyjama top back down to cover her exposed breasts and yanking Trevor’s hand out of her shorts. Cordell stops dead, unprepared for the shock that it is seeing Stella splayed out on her bed, chest bare and trembling, and her boyfriend’s fingers between her legs. In his burning rage he also feels a flare of desire distracting enough to delay him wringing Trevor’s neck.

Trevor is very carefully trying to shift away from Stella in the bed, like Cordell is less likely to beat him up if he increases the distance between himself and his daughter, and the movement draws Cordell’s attention back to the boy – the very naked boy – in his daughter’s bed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cordell hisses, finding the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so August doesn’t walk by and see what’s happening inside. “You think you can come into my house, force yourself on my daughter? Boy, I learned how to castrate bulls when I was ten. What do you think I’m about to do with you, huh?” Trevor is frozen in terror, boner now completely limp, his cock retreating like a turtle into its shell.

“Dad, no!” Stella exclaims, pulling a blanket over Trevor to cover his modesty.

“Stella, don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna let this piece of scum touch you ever again,” Cordell promises, storming towards the pair on the bed.

“No, Daddy,” she tries again, standing up to put herself between Cordell and Trevor. “Stop. He wasn’t forcing me! I wanted it.” Cordell stops short, looking down at Stella, who has her hands pressing against his chest in an effort to calm him. “I –” Stella swallows nervously, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I wanted this. That’s why I asked him to come stay this weekend, we wanted to, y’know…” she can’t get the words out. “Don’t hurt him, he wasn’t forcing me.”

“But,” Cordell’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Stella is standing here in front of him telling him she planned to lose her virginity this weekend, “Stels, I heard you. You sounded like he was hurting you.”

“I would never hurt her,” Trevor shoots up in the bed, angrily, but cows under Cordell’s glare, “um, sir,” he finishes lamely.

“Stella,” Cordell sits her down on the end of her bed and drops to one knee in front of her. He brushes her long red hair off her face, cupping her cheek gently, and focusing on her soft blue eyes, shimmering with nerves. “I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Was he hurting you?”

Stella shakes her head immediately but takes a moment to find her words, Cordell can tell she’s holding something back. “No,” she finally starts, “not, um, not on purpose.”

“What?” Trevor and Cordell speak simultaneously and equally confused.

“It.. he, um, he didn’t hurt me Dad,” Stella is stronger in her conviction now, “it just,” she grimaces, stalling. Cordell finally understands.

“He wasn’t very good, was he?” Cordell grimaces in sympathy, and a little amusement at Trevor’s expense. Stella shakes her head ever so slightly, and Cordell laughs. Trevor is sitting in an embarrassed silence behind them, clutching the blanket in his lap. Cordell stands, brushing a hand down the back of Stella’s head as he rounds on the boy. “You ever touched a girl before, Trevor?”

“Yes,” he answers indignantly.

“You ever made a girl cum before?” Cordell is a little taken aback by his own bluntness, but he supposes the seven or eight shots of liquor he’s had over the past hour must be fogging his brain a little.

“Yes,” Trevor answers again, but his doubt is evident.

“You don’t sound too sure about that, son,” Cordell pokes, standing over him now, arms crossing over his chest. Trevor tries to stutter out an answer but he doesn’t manage any actual words. “From where I was standing, it sounds like you could use a few lessons,” Cordell smirks knowingly.

“Dad, leave him alone,” Stella objects, climbing back up the bed to Trevor’s side.

“What?” he feigns innocence, smiling. “I’m just looking out for my baby girl. Can’t have you getting hurt, even by accident.”

“Dad,” she whines again, burying her head in Trevor’s shoulder.

“Plus,” Cordell kneels again, putting himself back on their level, “what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t make sure you were being taken good care of?” Both teens are clearly not sure what they’re supposed to say to that. Cordell takes advantage of their silence and sits on the edge of the bed, and Trevor recoils slightly into Stella’s arms, which are wrapped around his waist. “So,” Cordell brings his hand up to Trevor’s face and brushes a curl behind his ear, keeping eye contact with the boy as he speaks, “he a good kisser, Stels? Or is he useless at that too?”

“Yeah – no – he’s… he’s a good kisser, Daddy,” Stella blushes, her answers given in an almost trance-like state.

“Well, let’s find out,” and he leans forward to kiss the younger boy, hand still in his curly brown hair.

Their lips meet hesitantly, like Cordell is waiting for Trevor to pull away, and Trevor is waiting for Cordell to tell him this whole thing is a joke, but now they are kissing softly – like you would at the end of a first date, when you still need to find out what they like. Stella’s cheeks burn as she watches her father kiss her boyfriend gently, surprised by the surge of arousal she feels pulsing through her at the sight. She knows what Trevor’s lips feel like against hers, soft and wet and insistent, and she wonders if they feel the same to her daddy. They break apart with sharp gasps, and Cordell’s eyes flick to hers, glinting in the low light.

“Well, at least I know he’s been showing you a good time so far, baby girl,” he smirks at her, and Stella nods gingerly. “C’mere, sweetie,” Cordell motions her forwards, and she goes willingly, not knowing what he was planning to do but wanting desperately to find out. “Kiss her,” he breathes at Trevor, and the boy listens, leaning forwards and drawing Stella into him.

Trevor’s kiss overwhelms her, and Stella melts against his bare chest. His kiss is familiar and warm, but the hand against her back is new. It’s larger, rougher, and it curls into her skin more possessively than Trevor’s fingers ever had. Stella moans into Trevor’s lips, letting his tongue wrap around hers, and her daddy’s fingers twist into the hair on the back of her head.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers against her ear, and Stella whimpers, this time very clearly from pleasure and not discomfort. The hand against her back pushes down, and Stella follows, straddling Trevor and laying down over him, tangling their hands together on the pillow by his head. As they continue to kiss and grind, she feels Trevor’s erection through the thin cotton of her shorts. Pleased that she can feel his reaction to her, she rubs over him eagerly – and her daddy must have noticed, because his hand drags down her back and lands on her hip, encouraging her grinding.

Trevor moans and ruts up between her legs, and the pressure there against her core feels amazing. “Shit,” Trevor groans into her lips.

“She gettin’ wet yet?” Stella whines in embarrassment and arousal at her daddy’s words.

“Yeah,” Trevor pants from beneath her, “can feel it, even through her shorts.” Stella hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, but can’t stop herself rubbing against the hard member between her thighs.

“Fuck,” Cordell is smirking, Stella can hear it in his voice. “You must be soaking, baby girl.”

“Mmhmm,” Stella’s voice is muffled in the pillow, but she doesn’t want to pick up her head and reveal just how much her daddy’s words are turning her on.

“Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby,” Cordell’s fingers ghost over her bottom, drawing dangerously close to the wet patch that is clearly visible on her little shorts. “You wanna taste her, son? Get your first good lick of pussy?” Trevor’s groan answers him. “Roll over, Stels, on your back, honey.” Stella lets her father’s hands push her off of Trevor and onto the bed.

“Get those clothes off her,” Cordell commands Trevor, and he eagerly complies, reaching out to pull Stella’s shorts down her slim, pale legs, stretched out beneath him, cradled in the sheets. She pulls her own top over her head, small perky breasts slipping free, and Cordell can’t take his eyes off them. Fuck, his baby girl has grown up so fuckin’ pretty. “Spread your legs for us, baby.” He puts his hand on one of her thighs and encourages them to part, revealing her glistening core. “Now, hands and knees, boy, c’mon,” he spins his finger in the air, indicating Trevor needs to turn himself around and get between Stella’s legs.

The boy climbs to the space where Cordell wants him and settles on his hands and knees, staring at the spot between Stella’s thighs where he clearly wants to be, but keeping still, because he hasn’t been told to do anything else yet. Cordell hops off the bed and quickly unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on the floor, where it’s joined shortly by his belt and pants. He crawls back onto the bed behind Trevor, and smooths a large, calloused hand up his thigh and over his ass.

“You strike me as more of a ‘hands on learner’, buddy. That true?”

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor nods, hoping that’s the answer Cordell was looking for.

“Good. Then I’m gonna show you everything you’ve gotta do to make my little girl cum for you. You want that?”

“Yes,” the boy answers eagerly.

“You’ve just gotta follow my lead, do everything I do, okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” Another nod, and then a shocked gasp, as Cordell leans down and runs his tongue up the seam of Trevor’s ass, right over his hole. He does it again, the same simple motion, one lick bottom to top, and Trevor groans, shuddering beneath him.

“I thought I told you to do everything I do?” Cordell huffs when he draws back and sees Trevor’s head hanging limply between his shoulders. “Don’t leave my baby waiting.” He doesn’t move back to his task until he sees Trevor dip his head and drag his tongue over Stella’s entrance, and up to the small bundle of nerves at its peak. Stella almost squeals, hands rushing to clutch in the boy’s curls and make him stay there between her legs. He licks against her again and she whines, high and desperate.

“Daddy…” she whimpers, tossing her head back.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl.” Cordell brushes the hair out of her eyes, which are currently squeezed closed in pleasure. “Look so pretty… all spread out for us – doesn’t she?”

“Mmm,” Trevor hums against Stella, his tongue still drawing its lines up and down her core. Cordell grins behind him, happy he’s not taking his mind off the task at hand. Stella’s breathing is sharp and quick, still not familiar with the sensation of having a tongue playing with her pussy, and he’s about to teach Trevor some more tricks to make her squirm.

Cordell draws his tongue flat along Trevor’s hole, laving at the expanse of skin beneath it as well. The chain reaction of moans from Trevor and then Stella tells him that Trevor has copied his movement over Stella’s entrance. He quickly changes tact and traces the tip of his tongue in small circles right over Trevor’s hole, making it flutter and twitch, then soothing it with longer licks. “You feel what I’m doing to you?” Cordell hums into Trevor’s skin, and the boy moans in affirmation. “Do that right over her clit, nice and light— there ya go,” Stella keens across her daddy’s instructions, making him smile. “Now go ahead and give it a nice hard suck, and keep your tongue moving, just like that, yeah,” Cordell strokes his hand over Trevor’s back as he continues to build Stella closer and closer to her orgasm.

Stella’s hands are gripping the quilt beneath her like she’s about to fall off a cliff and that’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. Her daddy moves up to her side, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together, so she can hang on to him instead. She turns and buries her face in Cordell’s side, while still pushing her hips harder into her boyfriend’s mouth, whimpering in pleasure. Cordell draws soothing circles over the back of her hand as she clutches him even tighter.

“You need to cum, baby girl?” He keeps his voice soothing, and steady. Stella nods into his side. “Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes the hair back from her face, so he can watch her expression. “Okay son, want you to take your finger and push the tip inside her, just a little bit.” Trevor doesn’t make an audible response, but Cordell can tell when he does it because Stella’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his leg. “Alright, now work it deeper, go real slow for me.” He sees Trevor’s arm start to push in and out of his little girl. “There’s a spot you want to find, if you move your finger along the top…” and after a moment Stella moans, deep and full. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it, baby girl?” Stella whines and answers by bucking her hips down into Trevor’s finger. “Okay keep rubbing against it like that, and get your mouth back on her —” another moan from Stella “— now a little faster —”

“Oh my god,” Stella is close to sobbing with the pleasure, now. “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Cordell can’t help the smirk that splits his face when he hears Stella begging him, not Trevor, to make her cum.

“Go ahead and cum Stels,” he squeezes her hand. “Be my good girl, cum for Daddy now, c’mon.”

“Daddy!” She squeals as her body convulses, then stiffens, back arching off the bed in a graceful curve that pushes the pale flesh of her breasts right towards Cordell’s face, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss one nipple, gently.

“Good girl, Stels,” he strokes his big hand down her belly, which is still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Did so, so good for me, baby girl.” When Stella can finally peel her eyes open, and they find her daddy’s face above her, her smile is blinding, if a little dazed.

“Fuck, that was hot, baby,” Trevor groans, reaching down to stroke himself.

“Now, please, tell me you two have protection around here somewhere.” Cordell goes to the bedside drawer where Stella’s pointing, telling himself that it’s a good thing his baby girl was keeping condoms on hand. He finds the packet in the drawer, grabbing two, and luckily finds a small bottle of lube, too, which he brings back to the bed with him. He stalwartly does not think about the hint of bright pink he uncovered in his searching that was most definitely a dildo, lodged beside an open packet of birth control pills.

“You ready to start the real work, son?”

“Yes, Sir,” the boy groans, shuffling his knees closer to Stella, still between her legs.

“Woah there partner, not so fast,” Cordell grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down to his hands and knees, ass in the air. “Gotta get you both ready first. You’re gonna follow my lead again, yeah?” Trevor hums an affirmative response.

Cordell grabs the lube and gets some on his fingers, before tossing the bottle back to the covers. He brings one wet finger to the entrance winking up at him, and traces his fingertip up and down the seam, spreading the lube around before he pushes lightly against the opening, testing its give. It takes a moment for Trevor to relax, but Cordell gets the tip of his finger in eventually. “You gotta relax, boy, let me in. Focus on your girl there, you’re here to make her feel good, yeah?” He sees his curls bounce up and down as Trevor nods and brings his hand back to Stella’s pussy, drawing his finger through her slick before he pushes his middle finger in.

Cordell continues to pump his first finger in and out of Trevor’s ass, feeling the boy loosening around him, until he’s ready for another finger. He pulls out and adds more lube, before bringing the digits back and pushing two slowly but firmly back in. “Start to stretch her out now, add another finger in.” Stella whimpers when Trevor draws out and re-enters her with two fingers this time.

“Feel good darlin’?” Stella nods, locking eyes with her daddy. “I bet she’s nice and tight, ain’t she, son?”

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor pants, forehead resting against his left forearm. He seems to really be enjoying Cordell’s fingers in his ass. “She’s so fuckin’ tight. F-feels good.”

“Try to fit another finger in there, stretch that pussy out real good f’me.” Cordell punctuates his statement by adding more lube and a third finger into Trevor’s opening, and the boy can’t contain his groan of pleasure at the thicker intrusion.

“Fuck,” he moans, pushing a three fingers into Stella, who is dripping enough to make a spot on the sheets beneath her. She lets out an answering moan and bucks her hips up into Trevor’s hand.

“Oh, looks like someone’s getting a little greedy, huh baby?” Cordell smirks down at his daughter, writhing on the bed, hair splayed out around her like a wreath of flames. She whines at him in response, pushing down into the fingers inside her again. “You think you’re ready for a cock, baby girl? Want your boyfriend to fill up that slutty little hole you got there?”

“Yes, Daddy, please,” she mewls, thrusting her hips again.

“What about you, huh? Think you’re ready f’my cock?” Cordell chooses his moment well, and intentionally strokes over Trevor’s prostate when he asks the question, prompting an answering ‘fuck yes’ out of the boy. “Good answer.”

Cordell opens one condom packet and rolls the thin barrier over Trevor’s dick for him, running the extra lube from his hand over the covered member once he’s down, then quickly rips into the second packet and rolls it on himself, before grabbing for more lube and drizzling it over himself and the tight little hole he’s about to fuck himself into.

Trevor shifts up the bed so he’s pressed against Stella and he can run the tip of his cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against him lightly, but waits for her dad’s say so, still. Cordell ruts himself along the crack of Trevor’s ass, teasing. When the tip of his cock catches against the boy’s rim, he lets out a hiss.

“Okay, you ready Stels?” She nods up at him. “Alright, if you need to stop you can just say, baby.” She nods again. Cordell gives Trevor a swat on the ass to indicate he should move. The muscles in his back clench as he pushes the head of his cock inside of the wet heat he’s surely been dying to get to all night. Stella’s face scrunches up as he drives himself steadily deeper inside of her, until he’s pushed in as far as he can go. Both teens let out choked moans at the feeling of finally being this wrapped up in one another.

“Give ‘er a minute to get used to the feel of you, stay real still,” Cordell presses the head of his cock against Trevor and thrusts in shallowly, easing himself along with soft grunts, listening for any sounds of discomfort, but all he hears from the boy beneath him are small groans of pleasure. Once he’s inside, he smooths his hand up and down Trevor’s back giving him a moment to adjust as well.

His first thrust in is shallow, but it drags the head of his cock right over Trevor’s prostate and the jolt of pleasure it sends up his body grinds him forward into Stella, drawing a moan from her. She bucks up into Trevor, forcing him deeper inside of her and simultaneously pushing him back onto her daddy’s cock.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Cordell groans, thrusting harder into the tight heat wrapped around him, “show us how much you want it. Show us how greedy that little pussy is, sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” Stella pants, arching into Trevor’s hips and grinding her clit against him.

“Shit, you look so good like that darlin’. Looks so good with a cock inside her, doesn’t she?”

“Fuck yeah. Feel so good, baby, fuck,” Trevor isn’t able to move much, being pinned between Cordell and Stella, both fucking themselves harder and harder into him, but he thrusts back against Stella with push of her daddy’s dick inside of him. Cordell’s impressed the kid’s lasted this long without busting his nut yet, considering the amount of stimulation he’s currently being subjected to, and Stella looks like she’s about to tip over the edge again along with him. He fucks into them even harder, pace quickening with each piston of his hips, and he hears Stella’s whimpers climb higher and higher as Trevor is pushed into her faster with each thrust.

“You wanna cum again, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over that cock inside you like a good little slut? Yeah? You gonna be Daddy’s good little girl?” Cordell’s taunts push Trevor over his edge and he stutters in his pace, his ass clenching around the cock still fucking him as he cums inside Stella with a broken groan. Irritated, and on the cusp of his own orgasm, he pulls out of Trevor and throws him off of his daughter. Stella whines at the loss, and he can see her pussy clenching around the emptiness. “S’okay, baby girl, Daddy’s gotcha.” He pulls his condom off quickly and ruts his cock through Stella’s folds to ease his way when he pushes inside her. She’s so tight and warm and wet, Cordell knows he won’t last long himself, but he can wait until he’s taken care of his little girl, first.

“Oh god, Daddy, please,” Stella moans, pressing her hips back into the cock inside her, clearly relieved to be filled up again.

“Yeah, that’s it, honey, you fuck yourself real good on my cock. Want you to cum so hard, okay baby? Be Daddy’s perfect little slut, yeah?” Cordell lifts Stella’s ankles over his shoulders and begins a punishing pace, raking over the sweet spot inside her faster and faster on every thrust. Stella’s breath is coming in gasps so short he’s not sure she can even breathe. “C’mon baby girl, cum for your Daddy. Want you to cum for me before I fill you up. Gotta take care of you first darlin’, so c’mon, cum for me.”

Stella turns her head into her pillow and screams her release, her whole body shaking as she cums, her walls clenching hard around the cock inside her, giving Cordell exactly what he needed to fall over the edge. He seizes up bent over Stella, her legs dropping to his sides and her arms curling around him, like he was an anchor keeping her from drifting away into nothing. A small kiss placed on her forehead, and a whisper of ‘good girl, baby’, and Cordell pulls himself out slowly, groaning at the sight of his cock laced with the white of their climaxes. He flops to the side of the bed and happily makes room for Stella when she curls into his side, drawing her fingers through the hair on his chest, seemingly lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind, Butterbean?” Cordell asks, worriedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

“Just thinkin’,” she smiles serenely.

“About…?”

“About how I’m never bringing a boyfriend home to meet you again.”

Tags: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @whoreforackles @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @sonofslaanesh69 @walkersbabygirl @austin-winchester67

#walker #walker fic #walker smut #walkercest #daddycest #cordell x stella #cordell walker #stella walker #walkerbingo #walker-bingo #walker bingo 2021 #anyfandomgoesbingo #afgbingo #2021 bingo

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crystalline1206 · 3 years

Text

The Rifle

Chapter 1 “Kal'Tava”

Title: The Rifle Pairings: Mandalorian x F!Reader Rating: E (for language, sexual situations, No YOUNGLINGS lurking where they shouldn’t) Setting: Before Season 1 (briefly), before Season 2, leading into Season 2 eventually, slower burn. Summary: You always believed that trouble had a knack for finding you… You just never realized what trouble really meant until you met him. — “Why did you help me?” “…You looked like you needed your rifle,” Warnings: Age gap (LATER) Older man/younger woman, explicit sexual scenes and sexual situations leading up to it after chapter 8 Word Count: 1446 A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first story I actually have a plan for! I fell down a deep dark Mandalorian hole and I plan on making a living here. So sit back, relax, and enjoy! If you have any pointers or tips feel free to send them my way, but please, be kind! Banner inspired by @valkblue

This story takes place 10 years before Mando and Baby Yoda leave Nevarro as a clan of 2. I did some quick math and estimated that Din was born around 3251 LY / 26BBY which is a few years before the clone wars and therefore he is around 35 years old when The Child is found in 3286 / 9ABY. All that said, Mando is in his mid 20’s to your teens and any and all romance will be much much later. P.S. Yena is a play on y/n, thought it’d be a clever way to handle that!

Chapter Summary: You never get a second chance to make a first impression

“Did you see the Mandalorian in town?”

Your father couldn’t help but notice you perking up after overhearing your sister’s conversation. He swung around to your work station and gave you a nudge to get you back to work, which you returned in kind at being caught. Sure, Odell and Ravi could stand around and talk while putting merchandise away, but as soon as you so much as tilt your head, you get stuck with the reprimand. You did allow yourself a small bit of pride at being the best out of your siblings with fixing blasters and the occasional landspeeder, but at the cost of being able to walk into the market and gossip with friends, it didn’t seem like all that great of an accomplishment at the moment.

“A Mandalorian? Those are the bounty hunters right? With all the weapons and armor?” You piped up from your little corner as you fiddled with the blaster in your hands, only to have it yanked from your hands as your father towered over you.

“No no no, I know you. You keep your head down and stay out of trouble, Yena. I mean it,” Your eyes crossed as he waved a meaty finger in your face.

“But I—“ Your voice pitched in defense.

”Calm down, Cadri. It’s hard not being curious about new people here, she doesn’t mean anything by it,” Your mother, ever the voice of reason, seemed to understand you teenage curiosity more than the rest of your family.

Your father, however, was strict man, quiet, and kept to himself; all qualities that he “claimed” helped him live through some of the galaxy’s more tumultuous years… Honestly, you thought it had more to do with the fact that you all lived in the shadiest part of the outer rim. Nonetheless, your father strove to instill these qualities into his many children, mostly through manual labor and a lack of free time. Hard to get into trouble when you hardly left the weapons mechanic shop, but you always swore that you never went looking for trouble. Truly, it just always seemed to find you. You always thought it had more to do with being one of the younglings and getting left behind to fend for yourself out of your three sisters and two brothers.

“Oh come on, Baba. I don’t get into trouble!” You exclaimed heatedly.

“Ha! If you lied half as well as you fixed blasters then maybe that would have been more believable,” You heard your sister’s snarky comment from the corner of the store.

“Nobody asked for your opinion, Odell—“ You snapped.

“It’s not an opinion it’s a fact,”

“I’ll show you a fact, when I come over there and kick your a—!” You had already started to get up to lunge towards her when your father tried to intervene.

“Girls! Enough—“

“… Do you carry ammo for Amban rifles?”

Five pairs of eyes turned towards the lone figure that had just stepped through the doorway. Your eyes immediately focused on the T-shaped visor set in smooth silver beskar. Even out here, you and your siblings were all trained to know quality steel when you saw it, what with your family being in weapon and ship repairs. This was your first time seeing real Mandalorian beskar in person though, much less on a real Mandalorian. You knew there had been a Mandalorian in town a few years back but you’d never actually seen him since he worked for gangsters. Your family must have though if the wide eyed looks of your family members were anything to go by, he definitely did cut an intimidating figure.

“… Yes. We don’t have much in stock but we do carry the rounds,” Your father finally broke the tense silence, startling your sister and mother into action as they shuffled over to the stock room.

“I’ll take what you have. How much?” The Mandalorian swung his rifle around to place in front of your father, but something in the movement caught your eye.

“15 wupiupi—“

“Your rifle… it has a short in the barrel,” You vaguely heard your father’s harsh whisper of your name as you tentatively reached for the rifle, “The trigger is loose, and butt of the rifle is worn down as well… probably from the recoil when you fire,”

You looked up and met the empty glare of the T-visor, your breath caught as you realized that you had essentially taken his gun out of his hands and given him unsolicited criticism on the maintenance of said gun to his face— or rather helmet. You knew you were right in your assessment, you’d been working on guns your entire life, but being met with silence made your stomach drop. You resisted the urge to blurt out that you didn’t really know anything, that you were just a stupid 17 year old trying to impress a bounty hunter, when he finally spared you from the embarrassment. After what felt like ages, but was surely only seconds, the Mandalorian inclined his head mildly in your father’s direction.

“How much for the repairs?” If anyone saw your knees buckle, you were glad that they hadn’t mentioned it.

“The repairs and the ammo for 60 wupiupi, no less,”

“Fine. How long for the repairs to be done” At this the Mandalorian turned your way and you nearly choked, was he expecting you to do it?

“Uh-hrm… a-a couple of hours? 3 tops—“

“You’ve got one and a half. I’ll pay half now and half when it’s finished,” he neatly dropped a pouch into your father’s unexpecting hands and walked out. The silence left in his wake was deafening, until…

“ Yena , what have you gotten yourself into? You foolish girl!”

Kriff.

To say that your parents were mortified, terrified, and petrified by the spectacular heights of your audacity and stupidity would have been an understatement. Your father cursed every piece of faulty machinery in the shop as he helped you strip the rifle, and despite your mother’s many exclamations of being at a loss for words, she still proceeded to nearly shriek at you for the next 20 minutes as you scrambled to get your workstation together. All in all, you were nearly to the point of tears and you only had an hour left to fix the damned thing.

“I take back every time I said I didn’t get myself into trouble, you were right, you were all right,” Your mother’s hysterics must have rubbed off on you because you were nearly inconsolable as you tore your station apart for a driver small enough to tighten the trigger to the firing mechanism.

In a moment of clarity, your father finally kicked your mother and sisters out so you could focus, not that it helped much at this point as you glanced at the clock every 5 minutes. After the 5th time you burned yourself with your welder you finally stopped watching the clock and finished up. The short itself was an exposed wire that was messing with the transfer of the Tibanna gas and creating more force than necessary during firing, which resulted in the excessive recoil and a loose trigger. Your father’s store didn’t carry the type of gunstock necessary to replace the worn butt of the Mandalorian’s rifle, so all you could do was clean, reassemble, and call it done. You wiped your brow and looked up at the clock and realized you had actually made it with 3 minutes to spare, sobs of relief nearly melting you out of your chair as you held the rifle reverently to your chest.

“Get down!” You felt the shock of the explosion before you saw the smoke and ran out into the street with the rifle still pressed to your chest.

“What’s going on?!” You managed your pull one of your neighbors towards you from the people running away from the blast.

“That Mandalorian, the-the crew he was with turned on him! It’s a disaster, he’s holed up in a house, they have him pinned cuz he got hurt saving Ravi!” You felt your blood run cold.

The Mandalorian had saved your sister…

The Mandalorian had saved your sister and he had gotten hurt doing it, and now he was trapped in a house getting shot at by his own crewmates.

Your feet began to move before you had even finished thinking of a plan, rushing into the store and grabbing a box of the ammo the Mandalorian had requested. You strapped the gun to your back and rushed out the back door. It was starting to look like trouble was going to be a friend of yours now.

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #mando #Mandalorian #the mandolorian fanfic #Mandolorian #mandalorian x reader #mandolorian x reader #reader #reader fanfiction #no y/n

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bbyboybrock--archived · 3 years

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Happy New Year (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Can you do one where they are strangers and meet each other during a new years eve party and then end up kissing each other when the ball drops and make it super romantic (not in covid times) pretty please

Written: 2021

Word Count: 2,040

Warnings: Swearing, mention of being roofied, breakup

Masterlist

I sit in the uber, waiting for everyone to get out. Maybe they’ll be too excited about the party to realize that I went home. Maybe I should escape out the other door and disappear into the night. I didn’t even want to come out tonight in the first place. After the year I’ve had, going to an influencer party is the last place I want to attend. Unluckily for me, my best friends were tired of me staying in my apartment all day, every day, and refused to let me ring in the new year alone. Sadly, this meant that I had to go with them to a party because my apartment gave off “depression vibes” and that “wasn’t the move” for 2021. That’s the only thing that I agreed with them on, the vibe thing, not going to a party.

After nearly a year of quarantine and processing a breakup, my place is a bit of a disaster. If it wasn’t for Janie ambushing me every day last week to help/force me to clean up, my apartment would still look like that cave where the grinch lives— minus Max. There were various alcohol bottles collecting dust on the counter. Not in a “she’s spiraling very rapidly” sort of way, but in a way that you could tell that I had a rough few weeks and the occasional wine night with the gals. There were boxes, mostly from March and April, that I still had yet to throw out after impose buying a bunch of stuff. My closet had turned into my bed because that was the only safe space that wasn’t cluttered with food packaging or tainted by memories that no longer bring me joy. I hadn’t properly seen my floor in months until we pulled back the layer of filth. I forgot that I had carpet. Still, after all that, I managed to make videos every week without fail.

“Y/N, c’mon, you’re not escaping this time. Let’s go so you can forget that asshole and that backstabbing bitch.” Persephone begs as she pulls me out of the car. Once out of the car, she adjusts her long, dark brown curls and smooths out her dress before reconnecting to her boyfriend’s hip. They both match with their gold and black outfits. All of my friends and their significant others match. Ophelia and her girlfriend are wearing silver and blue while Janie and her boyfriend are wearing maroon and gold. They all look like gods and goddesses and here I am wearing green and sliver on my own. Could I be anymore single?

“I’m not going to do it, I was just thinking about it. Don’t worry. I have to get footage for the vlog anyway. Gotta prove that I did something other than stay home this year. My fans are getting concerned.” I pull out my camera and get a few clips of everyone.

“Might as well get some pictures then so people will believe you.”1 Ophelia winks before grabbing me and leading us to what I’m assuming is the designated photo spot. There’s even a line. This is going to be one of those nights.

****

“Aw, fuck…” I mutter to myself as my drink gets knocked out of my hand. This house isn’t big enough for the number of people that were invited.

“I am so sorry! Here, let me help you.” The guy who bumped into me extends his hand for me to grab. I’m sober enough to know not to take completely random strangers' hands at parties, especially in LA, but I’m also drunk enough to not care. He looks nice enough and I can spot Ophelia and her girlfriend Zoe keeping an eye on me from the corner of the room. I guess everyone is taking turns to make sure I don’t bail.

Against better judgment, I take this beautiful stranger’s hand and let him guide me out of the house to the backyard. It’s less crowded out here, maybe because there are more activities to do inside. Out here, I can actually breathe even though people are smoking and vaping out here. The music is quieter. The music is still loud, but like it would burst your eardrum like the music inside. I get a better look at the guy who brought me out here. He’s not bad looking, and I really hope that’s not the alcohol talking. He has the most relaxing blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy. His hair is dark brown with a bit of, I think, purple in the front. He looks as threatening as a pug, but looks can be deceiving.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get any on you did I?” He asks as he scans my body, not in a creepy way. Which is a nice change of pace.

“My feet but they’re just shoes so I don’t care. I call these my going out shoes, they’re made for moments like this so you’re all good. I’m Y/N by the way.” I stick my hand out for him to shake. He looks at it puzzled for a second before it registers and he grabs my hand and gives it a firm shake.

“Right— I spilled your drink on you and basically kidnapped you from the party and you don’t even know my name. It’s Colby, Colby Brock.” Colby shakes my hand a little too long before quickly pulling it away.

“I’m Y/N, you can get the last name later,” I bite my bottom lip, close my eyes, and mentally slap my head. “That was lame, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine. It’s a thousand times better than anything I would have come up with. Just blame it on the alcohol.”

We both laugh before Colby singles that he’ll be right back. I watch as Colby disappears a small group of people. I take off my shoes and walk to the pool, dipping my feet in as I sit. The cool night air is soothing me. It’s a nice change from the stale scent of my apartment and the sweaty bodies inside the party. I look up to the night sky. The light pollution makes it impossible to see what stars and constellations are above us. Whatever I’m staring at right now feels peaceful, like they are aligned or not in retrograde. I have no idea what any of that means, but I do know that I’ve been around Ophelia too much.

Colby taps my shoulder when he gets back. He kicks off his shoes and socks before joining me in the pool, not even rolling up his pant legs. He’s going to regret that in a few hours. He hands me an unopened can of Truly. I take it from him and open it myself. At least I know he’s not a creep. He opens a can of White Claw and sips it before breaking the silence.

“I have to be honest, Y/N.” Colby looks forward, taking another sip.

��Oh no, what is it?” I ask nervously.

“The real reason I dropped your drink is because I saw some asshole slip something in your drink.” Colby finally looks at me and I can tell he’s serious.

“Wait…what? Someone tried to… Any you thought the best was to inform me was to spill my drink all over me?” I’m more taken aback by the idea of me almost getting roofied than anything. That would have been the perfect way to end this shit storm of a year.

“In hindsight, I planned to spill your drink. I didn’t mean to get any on you. I’m not a hundred percent sober right now so that was the downside of my plan. Don’t worry about the guy, my friend Corey went after him.”

“Wow— Uh, thank you. I mean it. I don’t think I could have dealt with… that on top of everything else I had to handle this year.” I take a sip of my drink and swing my legs in the water.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m not big on talking about serious stuff with strangers, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to. However, we’re both getting hammered, if we aren’t already, so the likely hood of us even remembering this conversation tomorrow let alone who we are slim. So if you need to vent, vent.”

I weigh the pros and cons of actually venting everything to this beautiful stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I decided to say fuck it. The year is almost over anyway, might as well get rid of this baggage and start the year fresh.

“Long story short: after months of quarantining together Axl, my boyfriend of 10 years, cheated on me. The entire time we were in quarantine. With my younger sister, who I let quarantine with us so she wouldn’t be alone and not have to fly back home to be with our parents. And to top it all off, I found out about it on my birthday when I walked in on them fucking each other on my bed.” I take a larger sip of my drink before leaning back and staring back at the virtually starless sky.

“Holy fucking shit,” Colby leans back to join me in looking at the sky.

“Yup! We met in preschool and started dating when we were 13. She’s four years younger than us to that’s annoying.”

“Not to be that guy, but I don’t know what you expected when you started dating a guy named Axl.”

“… You’re right, that is a pretty douchey name. I literally ignored the biggest red flag in my entire life.”

Colby and I laugh again until it fades. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much, like actually laughed, in months. It feels good. Inside the house, the crowd starts counting down from 15. Colby must have heard it too because I watch him turn his head from the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face him. He really does have beautiful eyes. Like the ocean.

“This may be a dumb idea and I know we don’t know each other, but do you want to be my new years kiss?”

“I may regret this in the future, but what the hell.” We both sit up and adjust our clothes.

It might be risky to just kiss a random stranger at midnight, but who cares. We’re most likely not going to be in each other’s lives after tonight anyway. But by God, I could do much worse than kissing Colby. Unless I’m very drunk and the drunk goggles are seriously fucking with me. It’s not like I’m going home with him, my friends won’t let that happen. Maybe after this party, we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again. Maybe we’ll run into each other in a random store in LA or at some creator convention.

The drunken yells of party-goers inch closer and closer to midnight.

“Three,” Colby whispers, moving his hair out of his face.

“Two,” I take one more small sip before finally setting my drink down. Colby does the same. My heart is beating a loud, steady rhythm in my chest like it’s about to burst.

“One,” We whisper at the same time before slowly leaning in.

As our lips touch, it felt like time had stopped. The beating intense beating in my heart only intensifies the longer our lips stay pressed together. One of Colby’s hands finds my face why the other reaches for my thigh, but I can only focus on how soft his lips are. My stomach starts forming knots as he tries to deepen the kiss. I don’t know if it’s everything I drank tonight coursing through my veins or the fact that I haven’t been kissed in months, but I slightly part my lips. The mixture of Colby’s scent and his body heat wash over me like they’re intoxicating my senses. The kiss ends just as suddenly as it started. We both pull away and just stare at each other in awe.

“L/N,” I breathe, fixing my hair.

“What?” Colby takes another sip of his drink.

“My last name is L/N.”

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #imagine #imagines #sam and colby imagines #sam and colby imagine #colby #fluff #fluff imagine #fluff imagines #colby brock x reader #sam and colby

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 4

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,128

Warnings: none

A/N: This chapter is quite long, Bucky opens up a little and they discuss the possibilities of starting a sugar daddy relationship. Thank you for reading, I hope you’ll like this chapter :’) As always if you’re a wannabe sugar daddy, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky looked around the coffee shop, his knee bouncing up and down in an erratic rhythm. He looked over his shoulder at the restroom door and bit his lip in thought. You’d been in there for a couple of minutes and he was starting to worry you were going to leave through the back door.

Your jacket was still resting on the back of your chair. Surely you wouldn’t leave without it. Then again, it was freezing cold and you were only wearing a really light coat.

He took a sip of his hot chocolate and grimaced behind his mug. It was cold. Then, just as he was setting his mug back down on the table, you rounded the table and took your seat.

Tilting his head, he studied your face in the artificial light. Your eyes were glazed and you were avoiding looking at him. You picked up your mug of hot chocolate and set it down away from you.

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to your hands as you clasped them in front of you. The back of your hand had traces of red lipstick. With slightly furrowed brows, he raised his eyes to your face. Your lips were slightly puffy and completely bare.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes, I was just thinking.” Your top teeth pulled at your bottom lip, worrying it. “The night we met, you told me you weren’t looking for a sugar baby. What made you change your mind?”

Bucky ran his hand over the two-day stubble on his chin and jaw, and sighed. “It’s... I don’t know. When Sam told me I was going to meet you, I panicked. I googled the words ‘sugar daddy’ and I didn’t like what I found.” He paused and looked around him. The café was mostly empty. “If I’m doing this, I want to do it with someone I can trust, someone who isn’t going to smile at me and check her watch every five minutes.”

“I don’t have a watch,” you replied with a smug smile. He laughed. “What makes you think you can trust me? We don’t even know each other.”

He shrugged. “I know you’re kind, passionate, talented, caring, and I have a feeling you don’t care about money.” He took something from his pocket and laid it on the table. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have slipped this into my pocket this morning.”

You glanced at the $300 on the table and sat back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. It was a classic defensive posture, and he realized just how careful and nervous you were. He looked down at his lap, cursing himself for making you feel uncomfortable. This wasn’t off to a good start.

“Okay but I only know three things about you,” you said, enumerating them on the tips of your fingers. “Your name is Bucky, you really like breakfast and you’re an over-tipper. And I’m pretty sure Bucky is just a nickname so, really, I only know two things about you.”

He sat forward in his seat with his elbow resting on the table and his fist supporting his head. A slow smile spread across his face. He tried to hide it behind his fist but he could feel it reach his eyes.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, angel.” He watched you with a soft smile but your face remained expressionless. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “My name is James Barnes. My middle name’s Buchanan... hence Bucky. I don’t know why my parents thought it was a good idea to name me after one of our presidents but they did.”

You huffed out a laugh, and you both chuckled quietly.

“No one remembers President Buchanan anyway,” he continued, straightening his spine. “I’m 36, 37 in March. I’ve never been married, and I don’t have any children. I do have a sister, though. Her name’s Rebecca, and she’s a single mom with two kids. They all live in Indiana where I was born.”

“Mhhh, persimmon pudding,” you hummed, closing your eyes.

“It worries me that this is what you associate with Indiana,” he teased, smiling wide. “Besides nothing can beat sugar cream pies.”

“There’s no accounting for taste,” you replied with a smug grin. “Even bad taste.”

Bucky felt his heart leap in his chest. It was as if his heart wanted to jump into your hands but couldn’t because his goddamn ribcage was in the way. He pressed his lips together and waited until the feeling passed.

It must have taken too long because the next thing he knew, your fingertips were gently grazing his fingers in an attempt to pull him out of his thoughts. He flinched. His first instinct was to pull his hand away from yours, but he resisted.

Your fingers were freezing cold while his own were burning hot. It didn’t bother him. He hooked his fingers over yours and let his heat seep into you. It felt so good to be touched, to touch someone.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from your hand, he could hardly breathe and it took all his willpower to force himself away from the edge of desire. He didn’t mean it in a romantic way. His heart and soul longed for someone to hold him, to feel the heat and heartbeat of another human being.

He looked up at you, longing and ache clouding his features. It was too raw, you had to look away. He felt like you understood just how badly he craved physical contact. Maybe you craved it, too.

“So, um,” you cleared your throat, “you were born in Indiana?”

He took a sip of his cold chocolate before answering. “Yes, but we moved to Brooklyn when I was five. I still live in Brooklyn actually.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You come all the way from Brooklyn every Friday just to have breakfast at a shitty hotel in Chelsea? You must really like our breakfast.”

His cheeks turned pink but his smile was teasing. “Best coffee in Manhattan. Can’t turn it down.”

“If you say so.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “So, Mister James Barnes, do you have a job or were you born wealthy?”

He looked you in the eye while he propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “I’m a writer.” Your eyebrows rose, eyes twinkling with interest. “I started when I lost my arm.”

He sighed and started moving his bad shoulder in a circle as if just saying it out loud brought back an unexpected pain.

“It was ten years ago, I lost it while climbing Mount Everest with my best friend. I won’t bore you with all the details but while I was recovering the doctors tried to teach me how to do simple things like buttoning my shirt or tying my shoelaces. All these things we take for granted, y’know?” You nodded. “I was angry and depressed, and it was just so frustrating to keep trying to make my left arm move even though it was gone. They suggested I wear slip on shoes or use Velcro fasteners. It made me feel like a goddamn five year old.”

He took a small pause, watching you process his speech. There was no pity in your eyes, only curiosity and attentiveness. He had told this story many times before, he was almost reciting it by heart.

“Back then there weren’t a lot of people who shared tips on how to do these things. Now with YouTube, it’s a little easier for new amputees. So every time I figured something out, I wrote it down in a little notebook. It really helped me, and I realized it could help others as well. Long story short, I found an editor and it became a best seller. I got my fifteen minutes of fame.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Some of it.” Bucky shrugged. “With the money I bought an apartment in Brooklyn and moved out of Sam’s guest room. It felt good to be independent again.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed sourly and he tilted his head in question. “I don’t know if you remember but I told you I was living with Natasha. Well, actually I sleep on her sofa.”

He saw the mournful look in your eyes and it instantly reminded him of himself- incomplete, socially inept, a burden. No one should ever feel that way. Ever.

“It’s been over a year now. She won’t kick me out but...,” you sighed. “I know that having me around all the time is difficult. I’m invading her privacy.”

“I stayed with Sam for four years,” Bucky said with a smile. “You move at your own pace. There’s nothing wrong with that. You want to let her live her own life, but don’t forget that you’re entitled to your own life and privacy, too. It’s okay to put yourself first.”

“Easier said than done.” You gave him a sad smile. “Is it okay if we continue this another time? I’m getting tired.”

“Of course but, angel, I can’t let you leave when you look so sad,” he said, reaching for your hand. “What can I do?”

You watched his thumb stroking lightly over the back of your hand. “Does your offer still stand?”

He recoiled in surprise, his eyes wide with incredulity. “You mean the, uh, mentorship?”

“Yeah, whatever you want to call it.”

“Y-yes, yes, my offer still stands.”

You raised your head and forced yourself to look him in the eye. A chill ran down his spine at the intensity in your eyes. “I’m in.”

You agreed to meet him for dinner the following night at his apartment. You were cautious by nature and never one to follow a man you barely knew home, so you asked if one of your friends could come with you. He suggested asking Sam and Natasha to join you.

It made you feel more at ease. Natasha was like a sister to you, and she had already been through the whole arrangement thing with Sam. Not that you or Bucky wanted to talk about it with them – not now at least- but it was nice to know they’d be there.

The next day, Bucky made his way to the store with a list of ingredients on his phone. He was reading it over when he remembered to send you a text asking if you had any allergies. He was almost done shopping when you replied. He looked at the bag of frozen broccoli in the freezer and decided to send you another message.

What are your thoughts on broccoli?

Love them *green heart emoji*

Great! Broccoli ice cream for dessert then. He chuckled to himself when you replied with a broken heart emoji. Jking see you tonight.

Bucky spent the rest of the day cooking, cleaning and getting ready for the night. Cooking and cleaning were easy enough tasks, especially considering that his apartment was already spotless.

Getting ready was proving more difficult than he had expected. It took him an hour to pick out the right outfit, finally settling on a light blue shirt and a pair of beige slacks. His hair was being – for lack of a better word- a dick. He had half a mind to shave the whole thing off.

He was glaring at his hair in the mirror when the buzzer rang. He checked his watch, it was just past five thirty.

“Who’s it?” he asked, pressing the button on the intercom.

“Hi, hey, it’s me. I’m a little early, sorry.”

His stomach did a little flip. “Take the elevator to the third floor.”

Bucky fussed with his hair one last time and checked his teeth in the mirror. He wondered if he had bad breath. He breathed into his hand and smelled it -peppermint toothpaste. Not bad.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and he made sure his shirt was tucked in his slacks before he opened the door. You stepped out of the elevator and looked around. When you saw him, your face lit up with a smile so gentle and genuine that it stirred something inside him. He pushed the feeling down.

“Come on in,” he said, gesturing you inside. “Would you mind taking your shoes off?”

“Sure.” You bent down to take off your shoes but your hands were full. “Oh, I got you this,” you said, thrusting a bouquet of wildflowers and a bottle of wine at him. He smiled playfully and your eyes landed on his missing left arm. You grimaced and looked down at your feet, feeling like an asshole.

“Thanks, angel,” he said, taking the flowers. “I can’t remember the last time someone brought me flowers.”

You let out a relieved laugh and set the bottle on the floor while you removed your shoes. “I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

You followed him to the kitchen and glanced around the room. The kitchen had an industrial feel with a huge stainless steel sink and a countertop island in the centre that could act as a breakfast bar or just some additional counter space. There was a casserole dish on the island and a basket of garlic bread.

The dinner table was a little off to the side and had already been set for four with beautiful wooden placemats, gold-rimmed dinnerware and two silver candlesticks.

“It’s really nice,” you said, leaving the bottle of wine on the island.

“I can give you a quick tour if you’d like.”

“Yes, I guess it’d be helpful, especially if I need to use the restroom later.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath as he arranged the flowers in a vase. He gestured at the closed door next to the enormous stainless steel fridge. “The guest bathroom is right here.”

“Good to know.”

There were two bedrooms behind the dining room area. The first one had a bunk bed and posters on the walls. You didn’t enter the room, only looked from the threshold. Bucky told you that it was where his sister’s kids slept when they came to visit.

The second bedroom was a little larger. Against the wall, just below the window, was a bed. It was bigger than a single but not quite the size of a double. You entered the room and sat on the bed. It was topped with a fluffy white duvet and throw pillows in different shades of grey and white.

Bucky leaned against the door frame, watching you look around the room. You took in the duck-egg blue velvet armchair with the scalloped edges. It was without a doubt the most comfortable chair in his apartment.

There was also a dresser with a huge mirror, a wardrobe and a small desk.

“It’s where your sister stays, right?”

He nodded and pushed himself off the door frame and into the bedroom. “Occasionally.” He took a seat next to you on the bed. “They used to visit me a lot, now it’s just a guest room.”

“Well, this room is beautiful and the view,” you paused and looked out the window, “is just wow. I can see the One World Trade Center. It’s amazing.”

The kitchen-slash-dining room opened to a step-down living room with a high ceiling. You stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, unaware that Bucky was chuckling to himself behind you.

“Even gymnasiums aren’t this huge,” you said, pointing up to the eighteen foot high ceiling. “And the windows! My God, they’re almost reaching up to the ceiling.” You turned to him. “How do you clean those? Do you have a special ladder or something?”

He shook his head at your antics and crossed the room to sit on the sofa. Meanwhile, you continued exploring, marvelling at the view –“Oh my God! Is that the Chrysler building?”- and touching pretty much everything. The curtains were soft and light, the exposed brick wall felt grainy and rough, and the massive wooden desk was hard and coarse under your palm.

“I like your living room,” you said, running your hand along the back of the sofa. “It’s not cold or pretentious, I really like it.”

“Thank you,” he replied with an amused frown. “To be honest, I hired someone to decorate the place.”

You laughed. “Yeah, no offense but I could tell.”

“None taken,” he laughed with you.

You sank into the sofa and let it swallow you whole. A gas burning fireplace sat next to the entertainment area. It heated the place nicely, leaving you toasty warm.

“It’s too bad the view is behind us,” you remarked, rolling your head to the side to look at him.

He smiled. “C’mon, I’ll show you what’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” you repeated in faux surprise. “Okay, Mr. Fancy.”

It took some effort to actually get up but you managed to follow Bucky to the second floor. There was a room upstairs that overlooked the living room. The room was bare except for a large desk against the wall and a bookshelf.

“The realtor sold me this room as a bedroom but the windows open on to the living room. You can actually see what’s going on inside this room when you’re downstairs. Not ideal. It’s probably the brightest room after the living room though.”

“You could turn it into an office.”

“I already have an office.”

You turned to him, smiling teasingly. “Of course you do.”

“You know,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I always thought this room would make a perfect artist’s studio. What do you think?”

You turned your head to him so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” he said with a nod.

While you processed his offer, Bucky showed you the master suite and his office. His office was the messiest room so far. There were papers everywhere, post-it notes stuck to the wall above his laptop and several notebooks scattered on the desk.

You continued down the hallway, stopping to look at framed pictures of Bucky’s family and friends. He paused in front of a floor to ceiling mirror that led to his closet. You were curious and asked if you could take a look.

It wasn’t a regular closet, it was a walk-in closet with a round sofa in the middle of the room. You stepped inside and fingered the shirts hanging in front of you.

“Saint Laurent, Prada, Dolce Gabbana,” you read out loud, then whistled. “You have quite a collection of Henley, Mr. Fancy.”

“Is that my official nickname?” he teased.

You shrugged. “I’m experimenting, Mr. Big Bucks.” His whole face scrunched up in comical disgust and you made a similar grimace. “Yeah, no, I heard it. I don’t like it.”

You took the back stairs back to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen island while Bucky opened the bottle of wine to let it breathe. He asked if you wanted something to drink and you politely declined.

“Thanks for the tour,” you said. “I’m sorry I showed up so early. I think I was a little nervous.”

“It’s fine.” He took a seat next to you. “I like spending time with you and I'm glad that we can spend some time together.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and smiled. “Yeah.”

You both fell in a contemplative silence, lost in your thoughts. Bucky watched you run your fingers along the edge of the table. He looked at his watch and realized Sam and Nat were probably on their way to his apartment now.

“So what do you think about my proposition?”

“To use your guest room as an art studio?” you asked, making sure you were talking about the same thing. “It’s very generous but I’m not sure it’s feasible. I mean, you live in Brooklyn and I live in Chelsea. My shift ends at four but I have to be up really early. I’m usually too tired to do anything.”

“Do you like your job?”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s only temporary.”

“I can pay you to paint,” he said, turning sideways on his stool to face you. “Isn’t that what the Medici family did back then? I can be your patron.”

“Well, it sounds better than sugar daddy,” you sassed.

“Think about it,” he urged. “If I pay you, you won’t have to worry about the money. You can paint whatever you want, whenever you want. You can even live here.”

“Woah, wait a second,” you cut him off. “You want me to live with you?”

“I told you a lot about me yesterday, but there are things that are... difficult to admit out loud.” He heaved a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts and searched for the right words.

“I’m a little broken,” he said with a faint smile. “After I lost my arm, I started pushing people away. I was rude to everyone. I became very comfortable with being alone, actually I preferred it. I felt like a completely different person. I had to relearn how to do everything and it was exhausting. I feel better now but there are things that I don’t like. I don’t like when people stare at me, or call me brave. I don’t like when people assume I can’t do something or help me without asking. Makes me feel like a child.”

He didn’t look at you while he spoke. He couldn’t. But if he wanted to make this work, if he wanted to gain your trust, he had to be completely honest. Even if it pushed you away.

“I have a therapist,” he continued. “She helped me cope with my anxiety, my nightmares, my depression. But at the same time, I also developed an obsessive-compulsive disorder. I’m scared I’m going to relapse, that my progress is only temporary. Cleaning rituals, intrusive thoughts, magical thinking... those are a huge pain in my ass. I started to believe that if I don’t follow my morning routine I’m going to have a shitty day. It’s stupid bu-”

“It’s not stupid,” you told him, understanding shining in your eyes.

He smiled at you. “It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I broke my routine because I needed to see you and apologize. And I broke it again after that. I guess you could say that I created a new habit but that’s not important. It takes a lot of effort to break or create a habit so it’s still a win in my book. Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?”

“Because you can’t remember my name.”

He sighed your name with fond exasperation, and smiled when it made you laugh. “No, it’s because, and it’s going to sound corny, but I feel like you might be my guardian angel. You’re so patient and kind, you make things easy for me.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s super corny,” you teased, tapping the tip of his nose with your index finger.

He scrunched up his nose with a smile. “So you see, living with me isn’t going to be easy.” He looked around the kitchen with a frown. “This place is too quiet. It doesn’t have a soul. It’s like nobody lives here. I want it to be messy and loud but I don’t know how to do that.” He turned to you, his blue eyes pleading. “You may think I’m doing you a favor but you’d be doing me a favor. I need you more than you need me.”

You rested your elbows on the counter and buried your face in your hands. He knew you needed time to process all this information but at the same time, he mentally patted himself on the back for actually opening up to you. It was a big step for him, no matter the outcome.

“Bucky, what you’re offering me is incredible. It’s everything I’ve always wanted and more.”

“But.”

“But there are people who depend on me financially. My job at the hotel isn’t exciting or fulfilling but it’s a steady income. What will I do in three months when you get tired of me?”

His face fell. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Listen, I think it’ll be safer if we write a contract. We can discuss the terms and include a clause, maybe a 30 days’ notice. I won’t throw you out, I promise.”

“We should talk about this with Nat and Sam. They’ve been through this. I mean taxwise it’s gonna be a compete mess. Does this mean I’m self-employed?” you wondered out loud. “Ugh, never mind.”

Bucky laughed, his leg started to bounce with nervous excitement. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. He watched you nibble your bottom lip. You met his eyes and smiled.

“Okay, let’s do this!”

Part 5

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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auroracalisto · 3 years

Text

as fate will have it

request: Can I please request a Sweet Pea x sweet/innocent!fem!reader when soulmates meet, something important to themselves appears on their soulmate’s wrist as a tattoo. So since being a Serpent is so important to Sweet Pea, a Serpent tattoo appears on Y/n’s wrist, and since being loving is so important to Y/n, a heart would appear on Sweet Pea’s wrist. It would be especially cute if Y/n found out that she’s actually FP’s daughter/Jughead’s year younger sister (but was raised by her adoptive parents in the Northside and maybe FP didn’t know that he had another daughter because her birth mom never told him she was pregnant) because she has “Serpent blood” so it’s like it was fate. Oooo also, I don’t know if this would be good to add to the plot, but it would also be interesting if Y/n’s adoptive parents told her she had to pick between them or FP & Jug, so an it’s us or them type of thing. Y/n picks FP, her birth dad, and her newfound older brother, Jughead, so she would go to live with them in the trailer. — @kpopgirlbtssvt

summary: request covers this

word count: 2.4k words

warnings: rude parents? adoption (idk if that’s something to trigger, but just to be safe). being kicked out of home. it’s also very possible that it’s ooc sweet pea BUT it’s fineeee

author’s notes: i wanted to clarify that it’s been like two years since i last saw the first season riverdale, so some things could be a little off. the show is wack but i love the characters. i also might have somewhat gone off from what the request was, and if i went off too much, just let me know and i will write something else!

Your friend quickly took her seat beside you, smiling. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" you looked up from your book, slipping a piece of paper in between the old pages.

She let out a soft giggle. "Well, uh, I know you don't really care, but everyone else is busy—"

"—is that why you're talking to me?"

"Oh my god, no," she blushed. "No, sorry, that came out totally insensitive, didn't it? I just... okay, well, they're closing down the southside."

Your eyes widened a bit. "What?"

"Yeah. They're gonna consolidate the schools. So everyone from the southside will be coming up here. They're supposed to start coming in today. You should try to see if anyone is your soulmate," she grinned.

"Yeah, okay, but you've already found your soulmate," you sighed softly, standing up. You had hardly touched your lunch at all. From your book and the mention of your soulmate, you didn't want to touch it. You wanted to meet your soulmate. Oh, you wanted to love them like they deserved to be loved. But here you were, finding it hard to believe that you had a soulmate.

Your friend just smiled. "You know I love you, right?"

You rose an eyebrow but you soon returned the smile. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

She just smiled before she rushed off, gods only know where.

You stuffed your book back into your backpack, carrying your tray to empty it. You needed to stop by your locker before your next class.

Walking out of the cafeteria, you started towards your lockers. New faces filled the hallway the farther you walked. You could feel the anxiety start creeping into your veins, but not because of the southside—you had began to wonder if you would find your soulmate from the people who transferred.

You sighed softly to yourself as you came to your locker—and you had even been prepared to get into it when you saw a man leaning up against it. He was tall, his hair was dark, and he had gorgeous brown eyes. He was talking to a short girl with streaked hair and another guy with equally dark hair.

You cleared your throat to get the tall guy's attention and your blush only darkened as he looked over at you.

"Would you mind moving? You're on top of my locker..."

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded, pushing himself off from the locker. But before he could move too far, a searing pain took over his wrist. Just as quickly as it had came, it disappeared. He quickly looked down at his wrist, only to realize that the same exact thing had happened to you. And now, you were staring down at a serpent tattoo on your wrist, whereas a heart took its place on his own.

The girl with streaks in her hair was smiling. "Uuhhhh," she grabbed a hold of the other boy. "Have fun," she quickly said, before leading him away.

You blushed and looked up at the man. "Uh—"

"—a northsider?" he asked, but he couldn't help his smile from forming. He was about to tease you, but he couldn't help his happiness. He finally found his soulmate. "Do you know how much hell I'm gonna get for this?"

Your blush only darkened. "I—I, well," you breathed out, but your own smile spread across your face. "That's exciting. I still need to get in my locker." You were buzzing with happiness. The boy moved out of the way and you quickly got into it, looking up at him. He was far taller than you. You couldn't help the grin that showed up.

"I'm Sweet Pea," he said.

You blushed. "That's cute." He rose his eyebrows. "I mean—" you let out an awkward laugh. "My name is [Your name]."

"It's nice to meet you, [Your name]," he blushed a bit. He just smiled. He would have said more, but his name was shouted from across the hallway. He looked at you and bit his lip, before he suddenly grabbed your arm, taking a permanent marker from your locker. He wrote down his number before he looked up at you and grinned. "Text me, okay?"

You blushed and nodded, before you watched him leave.

[]

That night, you were too excited to tell your parents about your day. You finally found your soulmate. And he was totally attractive. And worth your love. You had decided this just moments after he grabbed your arm to write his number down. It felt like the stars were aligned, just for you. Perhaps that's what it felt like when you found your soulmate—like nothing could go wrong.

But as you walked in to your home, dropping your backpack to the floor, it was dead silent. You walked into the dining room, seeing your parents sitting there with a couple of papers laying out. Your mother was close to tears, but your father seemed angry. He cleared his throat as he saw you.

"[Your name]. Sit."

You did as you were told, beginning to frown. You looked at your mom. "What's going on?"

"[Your name]. Remember how we told you we had adopted you?"

You looked at your dad and nodded. "Of course. But that doesn't matter... because you're both my parents. What's this about?"

"Your mother."

You quickly looked at her, frowning.

"Your mother fabricated a couple of papers. She wanted a baby so badly that she would lie about who you belonged to just so she could have you."

"What?"

"You belong to FP," your dad said, staring down your mother. You always knew that your father didn't like southsiders, but this was odd.

"I don't belong to anyone, dad—"

"—don't," he said, frowning at you. "Your mother decided that it was okay to adopt the child of a gang leader. She put us in danger. Your sister. Your grandparents."

"What—they've never hurt anyone," you frowned at the man. "Why would she have endangered them if they swear against violence like that—"

"—you'd be surprised," he snorted through his nose. He clenched his jaws before he handed you the papers. Before you could grab them, he just dropped them in front of you. You picked one up, seeing your real birth certificate. Your birth mother was listed, and then so was your birth father. Your father was right—FP Jones was listed as your birth father.

Your face paled and you looked up at him. "What is this? What are you trying to tell me?"

"Choose."

"Excuse me?"

"Choose. The Jones. Or us."

You looked over at your mother in disbelief. "What happens if I choose you?"

"We will forbid you from talking with the Jones."

You blinked a couple of times, confusion washing over you. "But if they're my biological family, I'd like to know them—"

"—if that's the case," your father frowned, "just go and live with them."

You stared at him, feeling your heart beat rushing in your ears. You quickly got to your feet. Your mother wasn't defending you. Your father was kicking you out. It only took a few moments for you to decide that you would leave. You quickly rushed to the front door, grabbing your bag. But not before you had grabbed the papers your father had sat in front of you. The proof was in the ink—literally.

You pulled your backpack onto your back, looking down at the papers as you pulled out your phone.

It had been literal years since you last talked to Jughead Jones. You had his contact, still. At least, the one he had whenever the two of you were friends in your seventh grade year. You began to hope that the stars were aligned for you once more as you clicked on the contact and listened to it ringing. By the fourth ring, you were prepared to turn your phone off, but you almost gasped as you heard Jughead's voice.

"Shh," you heard Jughead, before he said hello.

"Jughead? Uh, it's [Your name]—"

"—yeah, I have your contact."

"Right," you blushed. "I, uh," you cleared your throat. "Do you mind if I swing by your house? I need to talk to your dad."

You didn't mention the fact that you had just been kicked out of your home. That could come at a later point in time.

Jughead blinked a couple of times and he leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, of course. When will you be here?"

"In about an hour," you said.

"Alright. See you then?"

With that, he hung up. He looked over at Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Toni.

"Who was that?" Sweet Pea asked.

"[Your name]."

[]

You hadn't anticipated the walk to Jughead's house, but you still remembered the way. It had taken you the full hour to get there from your house. But you were there. As you walked up to the trailer, you noticed two motorcycles parked by Jughead's dad's truck. You walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. You probably looked a mess—from the walk and from the cold air, you were sure you were as red as the red lipstick you always had stuffed in the bottom of your book bag.

The door began to open and you quickly greeted Jughead, only stopping short when you realized Sweet Pea had answered.

He smiled at you. "Hi."

You began to blush and you smiled. "Hi..."

He moved out of the way and let you inside. FP was in the living room, and he looked over at you, confused.

"What has it been?" he asked, beginning to smile. "Three years?"

"Four, sir," you weakly smiled.

FP took notice and he tilted his head. Sweet Pea frowned and led you over to sit down. He looked at the papers in your hands as he sat on the edge of the armchair you sat on. His eyes widened and he quickly looked over at Jughead and his father.

"I... I wanted to tell you about this. I don't... do you remember a Julie Harding?"

FP blinked harshly before he nodded. "Yes."

You took in a deep breath as you looked down at the papers. "She's my birth mother."

Jughead looked at you with a frown. "You were adopted?"

You nodded towards him and handed FP your papers. He took one look at the birth certificate and he looked up at you in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

You weakly smiled, once more. "They kicked me out when they realized you were my birth dad."

Sweet Pea's jaw was locked as he looked at you.

FP frowned. "Well. You're always welcome here. I... I can't believe this," he said. His frown soon formed into a smile. "I have another daughter," he breathed out.

Jughead looked at the papers for a moment. "We're siblings?"

"I guess so," you began to smile as well.

Sweet Pea watched you for a moment. You were always filled with smiles. You were always happy, even in moments like this. It astounded him, but he knew that he needed that in his life. He knew that the stars were truly aligned in just the right way.

He suddenly took a hold of your hand and you laced your fingers with his, blushing. Sure, your parents hurt you. But you took one look around the trailer and you realized that these people were the ones that you could truly make a family out of.

[]

Two months down the road, you were still asking Sweet Pea to move out of the way so you could get into your locker. But instead of him staring at you the entire time, he would just kiss your cheek or your forehead, or even your lips, and move to stand on the other side. Which side truly depended on his mood, just like where he kissed you.

Every time you would see Jughead, he would greet you with a smile and a short conversation, but when the two of you were with your new friends, you were truly yourself. You found comfort in the serpents. You found comfort in your biological family, and with your soulmate, Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea stood by your locker, his arms crossed over his chest as he saw you walk down the hall. He couldn't help his frown from turning into a smile. Before you could ask him to move, he leaned forward to kiss your cheek. He quickly took your books and stuffed them in your already opened locker—Toni had memorized your combination and he asked her to unlock it for him.

He took your hand. "Come on. I have a surprise for you."

You rose an eyebrow but you laced his fingers with his. You tried to protest when you realized that he was about to lead you out of the school, but you stopped yourself. FP wouldn't berate you for skipping a couple of classes.

Sweet Pea brought you over to his motorcycle and her turned to look at you, smiling. "Wear this," he said, handing you his helmet.

You just blushed and did as you were told before you got onto the back of the sleek bike. You wrapped your arms around his torso and he put on his helmet before he started his motorcycle and took off. He drove fast, but not dangerously. In a matter of minutes, the two of you were back at FP's trailer. Sweet Pea helped you off and took a hold of both of your hands.

"What—"

"I don't have anything to show you. I just... know that your birthday is coming up soon and I wanted to celebrate alone while we can."

You blushed and gently shoved his shoulder.

"Not that," he laughed. "Get your mind out of the gutter. Nah, I wanted to have a movie marathon with you, but if that's what you want—"

"—movie marathon," you blushed, taking a hold of his hand once more. He smiled and led you into the trailer.

He stopped in the doorway to look at you, just taking in your beauty. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Did I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're my soulmate?" he asked.

You just blushed and shook your head as he let out a soft laugh and hugged onto you.

Your soulmate acted tough in public—but around you and in private, he was a softy. Your heart melted every time you saw him, and actions like this only strengthened your love for the man. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.

"I love you, Sweet Pea."

His eyes widened as he heard the words, but his smile never left him.

"I love you, too, [Your name]."

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader?#riverdale #riverdale x reader #one-shot #fp jones #jughead jones #y/n jones #soulmate #soulmate au

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haileygarciasunshine · 3 years

Text

A MidWinter’s Tale

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina x Riverdale Crossover PART TWO TO SPELLMAN SISTERS

Word Count: 832

Warning: Swearing.

Written: November 21st, 2020

Posted: December 21st, 2020

Summary: The reader returns to Greendale to save her friends.

Part One

Christmas Masterlist

“Aunt Hilda?” You rushed toward the door as your heart raced.

“Well, well, well.” She taunted, as a sly smile made its way along her lips. “A Serpent, Y/N?”

Frowning, you crossed your arms along your chest as you anchored your feet in place, ready to stand your ground.

Shaking her head, she tsked. “I expected better from you, Y/N.” She smiled. “Now, step aside, I have some business to attend to.”

“Over my dead body.” You spat through gritted teeth.

Aunt Hilda let out an unsettling cackle of laughter. “That could be arranged, my dear.”

“Angustos in via!” You quickly spoke out.

“No!” She hissed, as she attempted to enter Sweet Pea's trailer. “You Bitch! You’ll pay for that!” She spat.

Aunt Hilda disappeared after the spell was cast.

“Y/N?” Fangs questioned with raised eyebrows. “Did you...Did you just cast a spell?”

Hurriedly, you shut the front door, your breath becoming ragged. Turning around, you gazed at the confused faces of your friends.

“I, uh..”

“What the hell is going on?” Jughead with furrowed eyebrows.

"It’s...It’s complicated.” You muttered, moving towards the living to gather your belongings. “I have to go.”

“Not until you tell us what’s going on,” Jughead spoke standing in between you and the front door. He crossed his arms over his chest.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Are you sure you want to know?” You questioned with raised eyebrows.

The small group responded with a hum. Groaning, you squeezed your eyes shut, before giving in. “Fine.”

Taking a seat on the floor, you were positioned in front of the couch allowing your friends to sit before you.

“I was born in Greendale.” You began as the feeling of uneasiness washed over you. “Since I can remember I’ve lived with my aunts. Aunt Hilda, and Aunt Zelda. They’ve taken care of my sister and me since...since pretty much ever.” You frowned not having any memory of your parents.

“Wait.” Fangs spoke, holding a hand up as if to halt your actions. “You have a sister?”

You gazed at the group, before nodding slowly. “Yes, she’s...” Your voice trailed off before you let out a frustrated huff. “She’s the queen of hell.”

“What!”

“Queen of Hell!”

You flinched at their reaction, in hindsight they were taking the news much better than you had expected.

“Yes.” You nodded. “That’s why I know so much about Greendale, and why I refuse to go back.”

“Why didn’t you stay with your family?” Toni questioned her voice filled with sincerity.

“I...Well...” You tripped over your words. “They...They began dabbling in black magic...That wasn’t something I wanted to do...It still isn’t.”

The group nodded signaling for you to continue.

“Something big is coming.” You spoke. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“What do you mean?” Fangs questioned.

“A war...A war is coming.” You spoke. “We’re going to need the help of someone you aren’t too fond of.”

“Who?” Sweet Pea’s voice dripped with venom.

“Archie.”

“Why do we need little red.” Sweet Pea spat.

“Because he went to school with my sister in Greendale for some time. He knows her well enough.”

---

Once you had convinced Archie that you would be needing his help, you began practicing spells from a family spellbook that you had kept hidden. It was beaten up and ratty since it had been passed down through generations. The book of shadows was one of the only things you had that kept you tied to Greendale. As you were practicing in your apartment, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You called as you rushed to the door. Opening it, you were surprised to see Sweet Pea standing on the other side.

He hadn’t talked to you in weeks since your confession at his trailer.

“Can I come in?” He questioned hesitantly.

“S-Sure.” You stuttered as you stepped aside allowing him in.

Closing the door, an awkward silence fell between you, as you stood in front of one another.

“I-I just wanted to come and apologize.” He spoke, tension began building in the air.

You hummed in response, as you began interested in your socks.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” He stated, taking a step in front of you, his shoes now coming into view.

You shrugged as you brought your gaze to his pleading eyes. “It’s to be expected.”

Taking you by surprise, Sweet Pea laced a hand in your hair while the other landed on your waist gently yanking you into him. His lips landed on yours in a short and sweet kiss. Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He whispered, his eyes still closed from the kiss.

A loud bang coming from your door caused you both to jump. Gazing at each other in confusion, you moved to the door gazing through the peephole.

Opening the door, your expression was etched in concern.

“Archie?”

“We have to go. Now!”

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champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

Debt to Be Paid: II

Summary: Earth fears intergalactic war with another planet. The Avengers are called to work out negotiations on Zevitar, the planet of peace. What happens when they are reunited with their long lost team member?

Warnings: dark!Bucky x reader, mentions of non/dub-con, age gap (reader is of age)

Notes: Ummm, so I’m probably gonna hide under my covers after y’all read this one 😳 I wanted things to get juicy pretty darn fast. Lmk if you liked it! Please make sure to comment, reblog, inbox, and follow me for more!! Enjoy :)

You almost didn’t believe Carol when she woke you up and told you that home was closer than you thought. Springing out of bed and rushing to the nearest window, you saw a small speck that was your home. It’s been a while since you’ve been on Zevitar, coming up on almost six years to be exact. You never could remember how you left home, but since you’ll be returning, you hope to get some answers.

After what seemed like an eternity, Carol had finally breached the planet’s atmosphere and was radioing in to alert the guards of a ship landing. You’d only hoped that everything was the same. You wondered about your family, your brother, gosh is he even still alive? Surely if he was he would've been looking for you. Right?

“What are you doing?” Carol was preparing to land the ship.

“Uh, landing, what does it look like I’m doing?” She scoffed.

“But no one gave you permission to land,” Carol shook her head and told you to fasten your seatbelt.

“They took too long to answer, we can just explain what’s up.”

You tried to tell her that your people don’t like it when rules are broken. Zevitarian’s take order very seriously. You should know, your family was very adamant on following them.

The landing was rough and you couldn’t determine if you would throw up from turbulence, nerves, or… morning sickness.

Your pregnancy became a hard to swallow pill, but eventually you had to wise up and carry on. You already thought up of an excuse if any of your family asked, but you doubt any of them were even still on Zevitar. Hell, you don’t even know who rules the planet now.

Carol opened the entrance hatch and looked back at you. It was obvious that you were scared. You were going to be alone on a planet whose people might not remember you, and pregnant with the baby of your tormentor. It was going to be a hard adjustment, but it was better than being locked in a jail cell knowing he is still roaming around free.

You tried not to think of him, but every time you closed your eyes he was always behind your lids. That man took so much from you in such a short amount of time. You could never figure out why he went through all this trouble and frankly, you were trying to put your past behind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a series of screams and bangs against the ship's door.

“OPEN UP BY ORDER OF THE KING. YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON OUR LAND.”

You gasped as Carol rolled her eyes. Nothing could scare this force of nature. She marched right up to the hatch and opened it. Carol didn’t even blink when the guards raised their weapons to her face.

“You were not authorized clearance to Zevitar. We ask you to leave or be taken to the King for punishment,” the one guard said. Gosh, he looked so much older than you last remembered…

“I’m only here to drop off a package, then I’ll be on my way,” the guards looked confused.

“A package? The King is not expecting anything. Let us see this “package””, the guard forced his way through the ship.

You gulped as you heard the guards get closer to you. You prayed they remembered you and you prayed that whoever their new king was would let you stay.

Once the guard came face to face with you he paused. You thought he was just confused about not seeing a physical package, but another being instead. Then, he dropped his weaponry and knelt, the other guards followed suit while Carol stood baffled.

“The Princess has returned.”

You never expected to be welcomed back this way. You were almost certain that your family had perished, but it seems as if one survived, your brother, the King of Zevitar.

When the guards were done their kneeling and praising, they were quick to drag you and Carol out of the ship and straight towards your brother. Apparently, word still travels fast around home, and pretty soon a small swarm of civilians were recognizing their long lost princess.

“Sister,” your brother stood from his magnificent throne, the one your father used to sit upon.

“Sister, oh sweet sister is that really you?” your brother dropped to his knees in praise.

“My brother, I thought I had lost you. I thought I had lost all of you,” you began to tear up. You had family still alive, you won’t be totally alone.

“Sweet sister, we thought you had perished. I weeped your death for days, and now here you are standing in front of me,” your brother looked at Carol and began to thank her profusely for bringing you home safely.

“We must gather the kingdom and alert them of the news. Ansel! Call the ladies in and have them prepare my sister’s room. Oh and…” your brother led the guards and servants out of the room as you turned to Carol.

“So when were you gonna tell me about all this princess stuff,” she quirked her brow in amusement.

“I didn’t see a point in telling anyone back on earth. I figured since no one was coming to rescue me what was the point in going back. I never even knew if my family was still alive, let alone if Zevitar still existed,” you responded.

It was true, what was the point in starting commotion on earth if there was no home to go back to. You assumed that everyone and everything must’ve perished in the war years back. However, now seeing that the planet and your people are fine, why didn’t anyone come looking for you?

“Sister! Dear, sister,” your brother entered the room with the royal ladies of the court, “I’ve made arrangements for your room to be cleaned, your ladies will take you to be freshened up. Afterwards, I would like to have a word with you.”

You looked at Carol as the ladies began to surround you. You didn’t have time to wish her a proper goodbye and she knew that.

“Thank you, Carol. I’m going to miss you,” she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“You too, m’lady,” she winked.

“Carol, please don’t tell them anything about here, about home. Don’t mention this to anyone, not even Wanda or Natasha,” she nodded in agreement and gave you a last goodbye before she left.

You stupidly forgot about your ladies and the strange looks they exchange at your final words. Gossip was their native language and you were sure one of them would slip those exchanges of words to your brother.

“My dear sister,” you brother greeted you as you walked into the dining hall. It was only you, him, and a long table in between.

You were dressed in expensive fabrics and your body was draped with the finest jewels, the proper attire fit for a princess. The ladies had been kind to you, but you didn’t miss the whispers of gossip in your native language. You didn’t speak up though, because you wanted to hear what they were saying.

They definitely heard the words exchanged between you and Carol, and you won’t be surprised if your brother relayed the message.

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss,” a servant helped push your chair in while a lady served you a plate and pour the wine, which you took note to try and avoid.

“Sister, it is a blessing that I get to see you again,” your brother smiled and took a sip of his wine. Usually, you would return the gesture, so you held the chalice to your lips, but did not drink.

“I feel the same way, brother. I thought I had lost all of you for good,” you knew your parents didn’t make it. They were the first to be targeted when war struck.

“Where have you been all this time?” and there it was, the question that would lead you to a spiral of lies.

“Earth. I don’t know why or how I got there. All I remember was waking up being surrounded by a bunch of people.”

“The people who brought you home?” He questioned.

“Yes, they took care of me when I was lost and alone. I am forever grateful for them,” and you meant that. Even after all the trauma you had been put through, you will forever be in the Avengers debt for how they helped you.

“Sister, if you are so grateful for them then why do you not want them to know you are here?”

And there it was!

You gulped as you carefully thought of the response to his question. If you told him the real truth you weren’t sure how he’d react. Your brother had always had your back, he would hurt anyone or anything that hurt you. While you wouldn't mind him reining down hell on the man who doesn’t deserve to walk free, you decided it would be better to forget the past and never return to your old life on earth.

“I couldn’t remember anything when I got to earth. You, mother, father, Zevitar, I couldn't even remember how I got there. One day, they finally found out about Zevitar and I took the chance to come back here. I didn’t think you would still be alive, brother. I took a chance to come back here, not knowing the circumstances of the planet.”

Your brother pondered for a bit. He raised his glass to his lips and you did the same, you couldn’t risk suspicion.

“Why did mother and father send me to earth, brother?” You figured now was a good time to ask.

“Sister, I’ll have to admit, a mistake was made which made us to believe you were dead,” you were confused. They thought you had died?

“When the war broke out, mother and father decided that I would stay back and fight and you would leave for a new planet. I promised them I would bring you home after the war, but we thought a tragedy had occurred.”

“What tragedy?”

You started to remember that day. The tensions of war had been increasing and soldiers were losing the battle. You knew that the opposing side wanted your family’s heads, so they devised a plan that could save you.

You were next in line to take the throne. Your parents needed you to be as far away from the planet as possible, so no one would find you and want to kill you. What you didn’t know was that your parents made your brother fight in the war. You guessed that he was forced to fight due to the loss of many soldiers.

“Mother and father had made a deal with Odin of Asgard. You were supposed to live out your days there until war was over. From what Odin had told us, Loki was behind your disappearance. He saw you as a threat and sent you away. The clever god made it seem like an accident had occured. Who would’ve thought you were alive all this time,” you were slowly nodding as you lifted your cup up to your lips, you had to make it look good, you didn’t need your brother finding out.

All this time, someone could’ve been looking for you, but because of a selfish god’s actions you ended up in a predicament that could’ve been avoided. Anger stewed in you, but you had to keep it at bay.

Your brother started to chuckle as you lifted your lips to the cup again. You gave him a weird look as you tried to keep your cool. There was no way that he knew what you were doing right?

“Tell me, sister. Why is it that you lift your lips to the cup, but do not drink the wine? Earth hadn’t dulled your taste buds has it?” Wrong…

He continued to laugh at your antics, but you stayed still. What’s the point in hiding it anyways? It’s not like in a few months a protruding stomach will give you away.

“Sister, sister are you alright?” You brother was out of his chair and by your side in an instant.

“Brother, I must tell you something,” tears started to fall from your eyes. You weren’t sure how your brother would react to the news.

“Sister, you can tell me anything. I promise you.”

“Brother, I’m pregnant,” you hid your hands in your face as you felt your brother still beside you. You knew what his next question would be.

“Where is the father?”

“He died in battle. He was a soldier on earth, he protected and served everyone,” you had to think quick. You knew the rules here, and since you were a royal you had to abide by them. At least you knew there was no chance of the father and your brother ever meeting, so you could get away with it.

“Oh sister, sister if I could only take away the pain,” your brother held you close. He understood now your urgency to not let your earth friends know the real reason you left.

You were pregnant with no husband to help you. The rules on earth and Zevitar must be the same when it comes to single mothers, a taboo. He knew that he must protect you now more than ever with your child on the way.

“It’s okay we will get through this together,” he shushed you into a calm state.

*9 months later*

Steve could taste the mix of cooper and soot on his tongue. He’d been fighting off Hydra agents for hours now and finally finished off the last one. It’s been months since he’s been at the compound, Steve’s been spending all his time looking for you.

He figured sitting around at home wasn’t going to bring you back, so he needed to go looking for you himself. He actually convinced the whole team at one point too.

While they got breaks in between missions, Steve was nonstop. He never took a moment to himself and never stopped fighting. The others gave up four months into his escapade. With no leads and fleeting hope, the rest of the Avengers had accepted you were gone and had no plans on returning.

Steve’s phone rang, he declined.

It rang again and again and again.

Each time he declined, Tony would keep on calling back. The man was persistent in getting the Captain home.

By what seemed like the ten thousandth call, Steve picked up.

“Tony, give it up, I can’t come home, not yet.”

“Rogers, as much as we appreciate you knocking off the Hydra lackeys so fast, your time is up,” Tony was annoyed and tired and fighting with Steve.

“Tony no-.”

“LISTEN, you have been gone for nine months, five months dark without team supervision, you need to get back, something’s come up.”

“Something,” Steve was intrigued, had they gotten a lead?

“It’s something that requires yours and all of the Avengers prominent attention. Now, you either turn the jet around or I’ll have to do it myself.”

“I’ll be on my way,” Steve sighed as he punched in the coordinates for back home.

Steve could sense General Ross’ fear before he even spoke. The man had been pacing back in force since he came to the compound. He didn’t stop until Tony told him to just spill his guts already.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, we are at war,” Steve sat up now feeling the same fear as the general.

“War? How is that even possible? There’s been no coverage-,” Ross cut off Tony.

“Not war on earth. We are going to war with another planet,” Ross ran the palm of his hand down his face.

The team started arguing with the general. They wondered just how an intergalactic war could even break out!

“Is there any way we can change their minds? Come up with a peace treaty of some sort?” Steve suggested.

“That’s why I’m here. We made plans to negotiate with their general about putting a stop to this before it can even start.”

“There’s a catch isn’t there. There’s always a catch with you,” Tony pointed out.

Ross huffed, “The general does not trust meeting on our planet, nor do we want to go to his. The general has stated they reached out to another planet willing to host both parties until we can work out a peace treaty.”

“And…” Tony baited.

“And, I would like some members of the Avengers to go and represent earth. You are the most trusted figures on this planet, maybe it can put them at ease,” Tony looked at Steve for confirmation, Steve nodded his head in agreement.

“We’ll go. Tony and I will work out who is coming and who is staying to hold down the compound. When do we leave?” Steve asked.

“In about three days. I want your team to be prepared for any type of back up. Bring your strongest just in case,” Steve hummed in agreement.

“And where will we be heading?”

“It’s a small planet, one that had just recovered from their own war a few years ago. They call their planet a planet of peace. Goes by the name Zevitar,” Ross handed Tony some files about the planet and what their mission would entail.

___ *Back on Zevitar*

Who knew that after all the pain you’ve felt in your life, childbirth would be the worst kind. After hours upon hours of excruciating labor, your baby was here.

The last few months haven't been easy. Your people would give you dirty looks when they thought you didn’t see them. They theorized the baby’s father was still alive and coming home was an excuse to be rid of him. Luckily, your brother had been extra protective over you. He even stayed by your side as your bundle of joy was born.

“Do we have a name,” your brother looked down at the sweet angel.

“Yes, would you like to announce it to the people,” your brother smiled as he approached the balcony where the loyal subjects were gathered.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Zevitar…” silence filled the air, “the Princess has given birth to a Prince,” you heard the crowd go wild from your bed.

The whole crowd began to chant.

“LONG LIVE PRINCE ASHER OF ZEVITAR!”

___

*Meanwhile*

Carol kept quiet during the whole journey. Out of all the planets in the world, it just had to be your home planet. She only wished she would have warned you about who was coming.

“Preparing for landing,” she glanced back at the small team of Avengers.

Steve got up from his seat and began to brief the team.

“We need to be on our toes this entire mission. No slip ups, no mistakes. If anything goes wrong we could be putting this planet, and ours, at risk,” Steve began to lecture.

Carol landed in a secure spot where a group of guards were getting ready to approach the ship. She opened the doors as the team got up

“Tony, Carol, Sam, Bucky,” let’s go save our home.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky #dark!winter soldier #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #James Barnes #dark!marvel #dark!avengers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #mcudarklibrary #IOU #debt to be paid

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danijimenezv · 3 years

Text

Coercion

Prompt/Summary: Based on the lovely Christmas moodboard that @jamespotterthefirst made ❤

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Jillian Valentine), and a little bit of Bryce Lahela x Ivy Valentine (MC’s younger sister)

Warnings: nothing, mostly fluff. Maybe a swear word here and there, but nothing serious.

Word Count: 1722 words

A/N: I’ve never written anything for this fandom, so I’m tagging a few people that I’ve seen around the main tags. If you don’t want to be tagged if I miraculously write anything else, let me know, no hard feelings at all! As always, feedback would be very much appreciated!

“Absolutely not.”

Ethan stared horrified at the velvety monstrosity the younger Valentine was presenting him, while Lahela and Mirani stared expectantly at him. He shook his head vehemently one more time, in case his previous statement hadn’t been clear enough.

“Come on, Ethan.” Baz clasped a hand over his shoulder, “It’s not that bad.”

“Uh, it’s not bad at all!” Ivy Valentine exclaimed, fully offended.

“Yeah, how come he gets a normal sweater but I get an ugly Christmas sweater?” Bryce complained.

“Because you look good in anything.” Ivy fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend.

“Smooth, Valentine.” Bryce hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, immediately crashing his lips against hers.

Ethan rolled his eyes at their very public display of affection, and turned back to the papers scattered all over his desk, taking advantage of the fact that they were no longer focused on bothering him.

“Doctor Mirani, was there anything you wanted to discuss about the case?” he redirected the subject of conversation.

“Not about the case.” he grinned unapologetically when Ethan narrowed his blue eyes at him, “The day is almost over anyway, there’s nothing else to discuss about it today, and you should be trying to make yourself presentable.”

“I am presentable. And I’m sure there are things still left to do here, so you should focus on that.”

“Come on, Ethan, this is huge. It’s all everyone has been talking about.”

“What?”

“Yeah, everyone knows tonight is the night.” Baz wiggled his eyebrows, “You’re having Christmas dinner with the Valentine’s, aren’t you? That’s a big step for you and Jill.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, hating, now more than ever, how the hospital gossip traveled around. He never cared much for it as long as everyone did their jobs, never paid much attention to it, but now it involved him, his girlfriend and her family, and that was what made it all the more annoying.

Girlfriend. The word popped up in his mind in a fraction of second, and although it still felt sort of weird, it wasn’t unwelcomed. It had taken them quite a lot to get to exactly that point, namely most of it was his fault, but to be able to call Jillian Valentine his was something he was incredibly grateful for. The second-year resident and junior fellow of the diagnostics team had practically weaseled her way into his life, and she had made such an impact, with her coquettish charm and quick wit, that he could no longer imagine his life without her.

“Ramsey, please.” Ivy returned her attention to him, “You’re a grumpy old man, aren’t you supposed to like this kind of sweaters?”

“I’m not a grumpy old man.” he barely looked up from the paper he was reading, “And I’m still not wearing that thing.”

“I even got you a different shade of green to match your eyes better. More blueish, instead of the plain green.”

“Much appreciated.” he let out sarcastically.

“Bryce.” Ivy whined softly, asking her boyfriend for help.

“Ramsey, my man.” Bryce grinned widely, knowing exactly how to approach it, “I have it on good authority that Jillian would love it if you wear this sweater tonight.”

That made him falter. No amount of begging from the youngest Valentine would make a difference for him. Jillian, on the other hand, was another story entirely; at this point, he was sure there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“Super true.” Ivy caught on quickly, “She has a similar one, and she’s probably going to wear it tonight.”

“It’s less than half an hour for dinner, don’t you two have to go get ready?” Ethan tried one last time to get rid of them.

“I don’t have anywhere to be right now.” Baz pointed out, causing the older doctor’s glare to direct at him.

“Not you, them.”

“We are ready.” Bryce winked confidently, gesturing to his and Ivy’s matching red ugly Christmas sweaters.

“Jesus Christ, you two are nauseating.”

“As are you and my sister.” Ivy rolled her eyes, “But you said it yourself, it’s less than half an hour for dinner, what the hell are you waiting for?”

“I’m simply waiting for Jillian, who, unlike the three of you, is still working.”

“Or she’s changing in the locker rooms.” Bryce offered, “Ivy and I finished our surgeries a while ago. Just admit it, doc; we, surgeons, are just way better than you, medical guys.”

Ethan simply scoffed, but before he could retort back, Baz spoke up, “Wrong, but that’s a debate for another day. I should go find Zaid, and you need to get going to that dinner. You can’t be late, Ethan.”

With a wide smile on his face and a last wave, Baz exited the office, humming a catchy Christmas song softly.

“Okay, enough of this, I’m done.” Ivy marched towards him and shoved the sweater in his face aggressively, “I’m Jill’s sister, and as her boyfriend you need to keep me happy, right? So wear this tonight.”

Ivy spun around on her heels and strut right out of there without a look back. Bryce shrugged, not being able to come up with an explanation for his girlfriend’s loss of patience, and quickly followed after her, leaving the diagnostician finally alone. He inspected the item of clothing closely one last time, before cursing the youngest Valentine. Time seemed to stretch as he continued to stare at the sweater, almost with offense, before he sighed in defeat and pulled it over his clothes. He was in the middle of grumbling under his breath about the damn piece of clothing he felt forced to wear, when his favorite voice resonated from the doorway.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the delay, but I’m ready now.”

He looked up in time to see Jillian halt completely and inspect him from head to toe, but before he could offer some kind of explanation, a breath-taking smile overtook her delicate features as she spotted the sweater. And just like that, all the insults and complaints that had been swirling in his head since Ivy showed it to him disappeared, because even if he wasn’t a huge fan of it, wearing that damn sweater made it all worth it if it got his Jill to smile like that.

“You got a Christmas sweater?” she asked breathily, still staring in wide-eyed wonder at him.

“No, not those awful sweatshirts your sister and her boyfriend are sporting around proudly. This barely counts as a Christmas sweater, and it’s as far as I’ll go for the holidays.”

“Good enough for me. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Jillian walked decisively to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to reach better, while Ethan slouched slightly and wrapped his own arms around her waist. She giggled softly as Ethan ran his nose against hers, their foreheads pressed together and blue eyes boring into honey-colored ones.

“Did you wear it for me?”

“Most things I do are for you, Doctor Valentine.” he smiled softly at the adoring glint that sparked in her eyes, “But I was also coerced to wear it by your incredibly annoying younger sister.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t have to deal with Ivy as an intern, then?”

“Of course I am. She’s Harper’s problem, I already have my hands full with one Valentine on the medical team.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jill grinned, “Right?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he leaned in and kissed her, though the moment was too short-lived for Jillian’s liking, because she whined softly when he pulled away, “Now, I believe we are expected to attend Christmas dinner with your family, so we should get going. I don’t want to be late.”

“What if we just… skipped it?” one of her hands wandered slowly down the expanse of his chest, gripping the sweater and releasing it multiple times.

“Jillian Valentine, is there a reason you don’t want me to have dinner with your family?” his voice was teasing, light-hearted, but the question had a twinge of worry underneath.

“It’s not like that.” Jillian spotted his doubt immediately, with that uncanny and unexplainable ability to pick on his thoughts as if reading his mind, “It’s just… as loving as they all are, my family is a bit complicated. My siblings are a nightmare, you would know because you’ve already met Ivy. And my parents are… intense. You’re too important for me, I don’t want them to scare you away.”

“That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole day?” Ethan asked, placing his hands firmly on her hips and looking down at her with a stern expression on his face, “Jill, there’s nothing that could take me away from you. I thought you already knew that.”

“I know, I know, but I’ve just been overthinking about it.”

“Well, I promise you, there’s nothing in the world that can change the way I feel about you.”

“Okay.” she whispered, completely dazzled by the intensity of his words.

“Was that all?” he wanted to make sure.

“Yes, I promise. Nothing else. Definitely not any doubts about you or our relationship. I’m in for the long haul.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Jillian caressed his cheekbone delicately, “Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you, Ethan. After all, I was the one who fought for us, remember?”

“That you were.” he agreed, sighing in relief, “And I’m so very glad you did.”

“Me too.”

This time, when he kissed her, he made sure not to rush the moment. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, they kissed passionately and urgently, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Ethan deepened the kiss and pulled her as close as he physically could, his hands exploring the soft skin and subtle curves he already had memorized by heart. Finally, Jillian pulled apart from him, softly nibbling his lower lip before letting it go.

“Now, let’s get moving, Doctor Valentine.”

“Yes, boss.” she answered back mockingly, biting her lip to stifle her giggles.

“Jillian.” Ethan warned her.

With a heartfelt laugh, Jillian pulled away from his embrace, but entwined her fingers with his, and finally, they made their way out of the office together, ready to meet the Valentine’s for Christmas dinner.

*******************************************************************************************

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @missflashgeek, @parkerattano, @openheart12, @starrystarrytrouble, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @caseyvalentineramsey, @utterlyinevitable, @aworldoffandoms, @the-pale-goddess, @dr-ramseys-rookie, @drariellevalentine, @tsrookie, @perriewinklenerdie, @genevievemd, @drethanramslay, @openheartthot, @mvalentine, @justanotherrookie, @lucy-268, @paulfwesley, @writinghereandthere, @rookie-ramsey, @missmiimiie, @openheartfanfics, @ramseyandrys, @ruinedbypixels

#ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x jillian valentine #ethan x oc #ethan ramsey x oc #choices fic #open heart fic #open heart #dani writes

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sakurablossomcreamlatte · 3 years

Text

tiny giants made of tinier giants

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines

Characters: Dipper Pines, Ford Pines, Stan Pines (mentioned), Mabel Pines (mentioned)

Words: 3,596

Summary: “It’s two AM, and Ford has a visitor.”

[AO3]

why would I work on any of my own WIPs or try and get my life together when I could write oneshots

(this work was inspired by this super sweet comic by @rosesanddoodl3s! I hope you don’t mind, I just really loved it and had to write some of my feels out)

Ford’s been back in his own world for approximately thirty-two hours, and yet it’s almost like he never left - sitting at his desk in his old room, scribbling in the back of his second journal and muttering hissed curses between his teeth. The Oregon sky sits inky and indigo outside the panes of his window, studded with stars, and despite their apathetic, twinkling benevolence Ford can’t shake the feeling that they’re watching him.

It’s not something he can just let go of after thirty years on the run between dimensions.

On top of snatching away his chance to finally take out that demon once and for all, mercilessly and swiftly as he was powerless to stop it - his idiot brother’s activation of the portal literally created an interdimensional rift. He spent most of the day figuring out a way to contain it... and subsequently wrestling the slippery splashes of interdimensional matter around the portal room into the glass orb he was able to create. At least he’s in good enough shape to do so, despite his age - not that Stan would have a clue, if the beer gut he’s developed over the years is anything to go by.

He crosses out one equation and scribbles another, tugging at his hair in frustration. All that stands between Bill and his goals now is a veil of worryingly breakable glass.

There has to be something else he can use to protect everyone until he can find something stronger. Project Mentem, maybe? Would the machine still even work? It would probably need some level of repair after thirty years of disuse - not that he’d even used it successfully the first time round.

A tentative knock on the door jolts him from the letters and numbers that are starting to spin on the pages in front of his eyes, and he really hopes it’s not Stan - but then again, Stan’s not really the type to knock either. Brow creasing, Ford turns to face the door. “Yes?”

The door slowly creaks open, and he can’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow at the sight of the boy twin - Dipper, that’s it - hovering apprehensively in the doorway, clutching what looks like the comforter from his bed. “Um, Great-Uncle Ford?”

“Dipper?” Ford frowns again, closing the journal and setting his pen down as he checks his watch. It’s after two AM. “What are you doing up?”

Dipper hesitantly crosses the threshold, and as he steps into the dim light of the room Ford notices that his eyes are red - and a little puffy. “I, uh…” he averts his gaze, biting his lip, “...couldn’t sleep.”

“I… see.” Ford can feel his heart sink a little. Dipper and Mabel were certainly a lot to take in upon his arrival back in this dimension, considering the thought of descendants hadn’t even crossed his mind - but they seemed assured of themselves, despite the way Dipper had almost fainted and/or thrown up upon discovering that yes, Ford was the one who wrote the journal he was clutching in his hands. The bright-eyed expression of hope and determination the boy had turned to him with as he’d pulled the memory eraser gun from his rucksack was a stark contrast to the one on his face now, and Ford’s struck out of nowhere with a sudden urge to protect him - his sister, too. He’s only known them for a day and he already knows he never wants to see them cry. Ever.

Stan might want him to stay away from them, but he certainly can’t stop him from caring about them - and if Dipper’s down here of his own volition, Ford certainly won’t push him away. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Something like that.” Dipper hugs the comforter to himself a little tighter, and Ford makes a decision, rising from his desk and crossing the room to take a seat on the couch. The kid’s wide-eyed gaze follows him, and Ford simply pats the cushion next to him as an invitation.

Dipper comes to sit on the couch next to him, tugging the worn, patched blanket around his shoulders. There’s still something hesitant in the movements of his limbs, like he’s holding himself back, and something twinges uncomfortably within Ford’s chest. He doesn’t want either of the children to feel like that around him - but he just wants to protect them from the dangers Stan’s opened their world up to, regardless of how inadvertent it might have been, and for that he probably needs to keep his distance. Even now he feels like he’s breaking some arbitrary rule, with Dipper perched on the couch at his side - before a wave of indignation washes it away. It’s Ford’s house, damn it, not Stan’s - despite what he may have told them… and everyone else in this town.

“Any reason you came to me rather than Stan…?” Ford ventures. He’s absolutely not against it - if anything, he feels strangely honoured that one of the kids came to him seemingly looking for comfort - but considering how long they’ve known him against how long they’ve known Stan, he has to wonder why. Dipper simply stares at his socked feet instead.

Were ten year olds always this… small? Both the boy and his sister barely come up to Ford’s - and Stan’s - elbows. Are they just short for their age? What were we like compared to Dad?

He wonders if it’s a good thing that he’s struggling to remember.

“I….” Dipper starts, and then seemingly gives up on himself, thin shoulders slumping with a sigh. “Sorry. I just - I dunno. I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s… mad at me, as such, but I kind of… said some things to him yesterday.” He averts his eyes, curling a little further in on himself.

Of course. Ford’s still smarting at the idea that his brother claimed his name as his own (and almost certainly amassed an impressive criminal record under it). Stan obviously cares about these kids - that part’s so glaringly obvious that even Ford can’t deny it - but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s essentially betrayed them.

“Well,” Ford concedes, “it’s… a lot to take in. I think you’re handling it better than I might have at the age of ten.”

Dipper looks up at him, stricken. “I’m twelve.”

Ford makes a mental note to correct his journal entry on the boy later. “I see. My apologies.”

His great-nephew (and that feels so bizarre to think, knowing that less than forty-eight hours ago he wasn’t even aware of the kid’s existence) just deflates even further. “It’s... okay, I guess. I know I’m short.” He pulls his knees up to his chest. “I mean, it’s just really annoying right now. Grunkle Stan’s really tall - and so are you, actually - and so’s my dad. I guess I can’t be short forever, but… I dunno.”

Right, their father. Shermie’s boy - David.

“How is Shermie, anyway?” Ford ventures, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than he wishes he hadn’t asked - because at the mention of their elder brother’s name Stan’s face immediately falls, any light that might have remained leaving his eyes, and that tells Ford pretty much everything he needs to know.

“What’s your father like?”

The question leaves Ford’s lips before he even really has the time to think about how random it is. He hasn’t even seen David since… what, Thanksgiving in third year of college? His nephew was barely four or five years old at that point, a rambunctious child with big brown eyes and a mop of chestnut-coloured curls who gleefully ran around their parents’ apartment while Shermie chased after him, throwing out frantic, stuttered apologies in their dad’s direction. It’s crossed Ford’s mind every now and then while jumping between dimensions, but he’s always pushed it away just as quickly, not wanting to dwell on the pain of everything else he threw away the second he shook Bill’s hand.

Dipper’s seemingly just as taken aback by the question as Ford is, and when he lifts his head to look up at him, brown eyes wide beneath his fluffy chestnut fringe, for a second it’s almost like he’s looking at a carbon copy of David himself… although he thankfully hasn’t inherited the infamous Pines nose. “My dad?”

“Ah - yes.” Ford coughs, averts his own eyes. “I suppose - well, Mom babysat for Shermie sometimes.”

Dipper’s brow lifts a little in the light of recognition, before furrowing again in thought. “He’s…” he trails off, visibly searching for the right adjective. “Nice. Kinda goofy, I guess. Mom always says that’s where Mabel gets it from.”

“What does he do?” Ford presses.

“He’s a software programmer.” Dipper’s shoulders relax, if only by a fraction. “And Mom’s a lawyer.”

“A software programmer, huh?” A memory of Fiddleford holding up a laptop prototype with bright, shining eyes briefly floats to the surface, and a stinging pang of regret bounces painfully against the inside of Ford’s ribcage, and he tries to focus on the child sitting next to him - family that he didn’t even know he had. It’s more than he expected, and more than he could have asked for. “Does he work a lot?”

“Yeah,” Dipper answers, kicking his feet under the seat of the couch. “He has his own business, but he works from home a couple of days a week - and he tries cooking dinner sometimes, but he’s not great at it.” His shoulders twitch beneath his blanket, the shadow of a laugh bubbling up. “One time he made us spaghetti sauce with ramen noodles - it was so gross. When Mom got home we ended up ordering Chinese food instead.”

Ford has to chuckle at that. “You know Shermie was never a great cook, either.”

Dipper relaxes a little more, and his shoulder bumps against Ford’s elbow as he leans a tiny bit closer. “I don’t remember a whole lot about Grandpa Shermie,” he admits, hesitantly. “Mom always says he really loved us, though. And Dad always took us to the planetarium on our birthday, because he said that was his favourite thing to do with his dad when he was a kid.”

And even if Ford’s trying to stave off his own looming anxiety about the very real possibility of the world as they know it ending, there’s something in his nephew’s words that lifts his own battle-scarred heart by just a touch. Maybe it’s knowing now that for all he left behind him when he hightailed it out of Backupsmore with two PhDs and a fat research grant cheque, back home Shermie turned out to be a good man, bringing the happy, excitable child Ford once knew as his nephew along that path with him. Seeing that David apparently grew up to be a good man himself, if the little smile that tugs at the corner of Dipper’s mouth when he talks about his parents is anything to go by.

At least someone in this family of ours turned out to be remotely functional.

Ford’s next question emerges a little more easily, the distance between them slowly beginning to close in fractional increments. “Did they give you your nickname?”

The question had already arisen when Stan was catching him up on the family history - the name Mabel is a little old-fashioned, although sweet in its charm, but surely nobody would ever call their child Dipper legitimately? - and Stan had simply shrugged and grunted something along the lines of, ‘Look at the little goofus’s forehead. It’s like someone spilled hot sauce on his face.’

He would, if the kid would stop vibrating with anxiety/pen clicks long enough to sit still. Not that it was even necessary, with the carefully inked sketch - which, sure enough, was a dead ringer for the Big Dipper - he’d found flipping through the third journal under the entry titled, ‘Your new author!’.

He’s ten - no, twelve. Ford won’t hold it against him.

Back in the present, Dipper nods. “Dad said Grandpa pointed it out to him when we were little and then he couldn’t unsee it, and then they both started calling me Dipper and it just… stuck.” He hugs his knees. “I feel like it fits. My real name’s kind of dumb, anyway.”

There’s probably not much that could be dumber than naming a pair of twins Stanford and Stanley, but Ford decides not to push it. “Well, it’s certainly unique.”

Dipper shrugs and averts his gaze, and a silence falls between them… but after a few moments, there’s a soft weight against Ford’s arm as he leans against him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his arm to rest it around the boy’s shoulders. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s expecting - but Dipper doesn’t jolt, or flinch away. Instead, he simply shifts to rest his head against Ford’s chest with a soft exhale.

That in itself can only be a testament to the kind of fathers Shermie and David turned out to be. When Mabel threw her little sweater-clad arms around his neck earlier that night and chirped, “goodnight, Grunkle Ford!”, the wave of longing and affection that surged through his chest was so powerful that it both ached and almost took him off his feet at the same time.

He’d forgotten what love - and the affection that goes hand in hand with it - felt like, and in one simple hug from a niece he didn’t even know he had, it had come rushing back with all the force of a tsunami. These kids - Mabel especially - are so strangely warm and open, with each other, and with Stan and that young man - what was his name, Zeus? no, Soos - and now with Ford himself, too. And Dipper could barely make eye contact or stop shaking, but in the middle of the night, worn down by exhaustion - and he hasn’t missed the shadows under the boy’s eyes, either - he’s far more subdued, seemingly removed from the stammering, gagging ball of pen-clicking anxiety that had first greeted him after he’d set foot back in this world.

Either way, they’re certainly a far cry from himself and Stan.

Belatedly, Ford realises that his eyes are stinging a little, and he awkwardly clears his throat. Dipper doesn’t say anything. Beneath his fringe, his eyes are distant, and Ford can only wonder what he’s thinking.

“Is…” he winces at how his own voice breaks the silence, but they’ve already crossed this line. He doesn’t even know what it means to be an uncle, but if something’s bothering the kid, he wants to help. “Is there... another reason you can’t sleep, Dipper?”

This town’s fascinating, but it’s also dangerous, and in those six years he lived here Ford had more than his fair share of close shaves. Dipper’s thin arms are covered by his blanket right now, but during the day, the thin lines and dots of scars and scrapes that traverse his skin haven’t escaped Ford’s attention.

Ford can only wonder what he’s seen, and he hopes to God it’s not the same thing that sparked his own suffocating paranoia.

He can feel Dipper’s shoulders stiffen beneath his forearm, and for a few long moments, another silence descends.

When Dipper does answer, his voice is quiet, partially muffled by his comforter. “S-sometimes it’s just…” he trails off, shifting slightly against Ford’s chest. “Difficult.”

It doesn’t exactly provide much of an explanation, and Ford sighs. It was probably a step too far to expect Dipper to open up right away - if anything, he’s grateful for the way he’s here with him now, even if it’s explicitly against Stan’s wishes.

Dipper’s voice breaks the quiet once again. “Anyway… I wanna know more about you. Like…” he trails off, searching. “What were you and Grunkle Stan like when you were twelve?”

A laugh bubbles up in Ford’s chest at the innocence of the question. It’s a lifetime ago now, like Stan had said. Before they thought anything could ever break them apart, when they were just two identical best friends - brothers, even - with a dream of sailing away from their shitty little town.

“Didn’t Stan already tell you? He was a troublemaker and I was… well, a nerd, I suppose.”

Dipper leans against his side, relaxing once again - and it’s a relief. If they have to do this on his terms, that’s fine. Hopefully the kid might open up to him when he’s ready, whenever that may be. “I mean… we heard Stan’s side of the story. I guess I wanted to hear yours.”

Ford casts his mind back. “Well, Stan wasn’t wrong - he was a troublemaker.” A chuckle. “But then again, I suppose I wasn’t entirely innocent either…”

The stories flow from him more easily than he would expect them to - for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as much to tell Dipper, who listens, giggles here and there, occasionally interjects with some quip or aside that shows Ford that for all that’s happened in the last forty or fifty years, there are parts of his brother that haven’t necessarily changed. With each story he recalls, hazy days gone by that leave his lips as a shared memory, Dipper slumps a little further into his lap - and in some complete paradox, the heavier the kid rests against him, the lighter his heart feels.

Somewhere in the back of his mind as he’s regaling Dipper with the tale of Fiddleford’s disastrous attempt at a college open mic night - guest starring that godforsaken banjo - he wonders if it might be worth revising the entry he wrote about the kid in the third journal.

It’s still painful to think about Fiddleford, though, and Ford hopes that one day he’ll get the chance to apologise.

Even so, it still comes back to Stan. It often does. And for some reason, it’s easier to separate them in his mind - Stanley, the goofy, scrappy little smartass with half his front teeth missing who always pulled Ford up by his armpits when bullies knocked him down and tried to pin most of his mishaps on Shanklin the possum, and Stan, the exhausted, hollow-eyed stranger in a hooded jacket who showed up on his doorstep on that fateful day in 1982… who’s evidently reinvented himself as the man they now know as Stanford Pines, with a fez perched atop his now-grey hair and lies and blatant falsehoods falling from his lips.

“It’s kind of crazy imagining Grunkle Stan as a kid,” Dipper murmurs. He looks like he’s having a progressively harder time trying to keep his eyes open. “Like… Mabel and I only ever knew him as this weird old scam artist guy.”

Ford can feel the smile tug at his lips. Dipper and Mabel are going to grow up one day, too, and he hopes he’ll be able to witness it. “Well, we were all children once.”

It’s like he’s taking a back seat to himself as he tells Dipper these stories from another life. If he thinks about Stan and what they’ve become, it hurts - even if it’s dulled into a detached ache over the years, the occasional wave comes, raw and fresh, and it’s sharp like a knife. If he thinks about Stanley, it still hurts - but the edges are softened by the miasma that nostalgia casts over everything, and that’s not quite as painful. At least back then, he knew some sort of happiness, and at least he can vaguely recall what it felt like.

He can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him at the memory of Stan trying to convince their mother that the person who set off the whole school’s sprinklers and took off into the distance shouting ‘that’s how Stan Pines does it, suckers!’ was someone trying to frame him, and the way she’d absolutely eviscerated him in response.

“...and that was the last time Stanley ever lied to our mom.”

There’s no response from Dipper this time - no giggle, or eye-roll, or dry quip - and he looks down to see that the kid’s drifted off in his lap, head pillowed against Ford’s thigh as he breathes, slow and soft.

Well. In fairness, that was pretty much what he came down here for. Objective achieved… more or less.

Tentatively, he runs his hand over Dipper’s hair. It’s a complete bird’s nest - he obviously doesn’t brush it that often - but it’s thick and fluffy, just like David’s had been as a child. The heavy curtain of Mabel’s long tresses that had hit him in the face when she’d hugged him had been more or less the same.

Twins run in the family, he’d written in the journal. It’s a comforting thought - if anything, knowing that they hopefully won’t turn out like him and Stan.

He hadn’t wanted to throw it away - neither of them had, but Stan had no idea what he was dealing with, and if he had any inkling of just how dangerous the forces he was messing with were, most likely didn’t care. Irresponsible and knuckleheaded to a fault, from childhood to now - and honestly, probably to eternity.

As a scientist, Ford is used to determining things by probability and likelihood. Each situation has a predetermined number of potential outcomes… but sometimes, something greater - fate, the universe - has a hand in things. And maybe this time, she’s granted Ford a second chance of sorts. There’s a second generation of Pines twins, and they might have the potential to be better than he and Stan ever were.

“Alright, my boy,” he mutters to the one currently sleeping in his lap. “Let’s get you back into your own bed before Stan notices.”

#own writing #dipper pines #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction

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quillandink333 · 3 years

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Like Birds of a Feather

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Modern AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Link, the owner of a small bakery in the middle of the big city, and Zelda, one of his most frequent customers, spend the holidays together.

Masterlist

It was nearly a quarter to eight, when the eastern horizon was just beginning to brighten with the rays of the early winter sun. The Patisserie on Lynel Avenue was decked with bows of holly from one end to the other, and sleigh bells were sounding from the stereo. The holiday season, one of my busiest times of the year, had arrived.

It had yet to start getting really busy—only one or two customers had come and gone so far—but my employees and I were prepared for them to start flooding in as soon as the clock struck nine. I was behind the counter, getting the last of today’s freshly baked goodies behind the glass. I had nothing against Christmas time, of course. In truth, I loved the cheerful atmosphere it brought about, and I had a lot of happy childhood memories of it. But I had to admit that the sudden spike in demand that came with it had me at my wit’s end on occasion.

There was one aspect of my life acting as the oil that kept me running smoothly, however, aside from the rise in income. Since three or four months back, I wasn’t really sure how long ago, but there was one customer who’d been coming in more regularly than any other customer that I could remember. All I knew was that it was some time after we’d started serving coffee and tea and the like. I hadn’t taken much notice of her the first two or three times she’d stopped by. The times after that was when she’d started to grab my attention.

She was rather unassuming in appearance, not boasting too many features that stood out. She seemed like the academic type, judging from her cutely oversized glasses and the way she was always carrying some textbook or another under her arm. The thing that endeared me to her most of all, though, was her insatiable sweet tooth. Every time she dropped in, she’d order something different. And every time, as she took her first bite of whichever one of my treats she’d picked that morning, she’d get this look of complete and utter catharsis, like all of her worries were all at once melting away. To sum up, I was smitten. She seemed to be made up of all the right things one needed to win me over without even having held a full conversation with me.

It wasn’t just these things that drew me to her, however. Every time I looked into those viridian eyes of hers, I was overcome with a striking sense of déjà vu that I couldn’t for the life of me explain. I had no belief in such things whatsoever, nor did I consider myself a spiritual person by any means, but it was truly as though I’d known her in a past life, or something along those lines. I was certain I’d never heard the name ‘Zelda’ in my life before I’d taken her order for the first time. Yet when I looked at her face, I couldn’t help but feel like she was someone important to me. Even though my memory had the tendency to fail me at times, there was no way I could’ve forgotten someone who was seemingly so significant.

It was for these many reasons combined that I found myself so inextricably charmed by her, counting the days between each of her visits to the bakery. They were also the reason my heavy heart became weightless when I saw her smiling face come through the door that morning. She gave me a friendly wave as she walked up to the counter.

“What can I get you today, Ms. Zelda?” I joked. Her little laugh was music to my ears as she looked over the menu and what there was out on display. It turned out she could be rather indecisive about her order at times, which was something I could tell she was conscious of as she grew more and more fidgety the longer she stood there. “No rush.”

She nodded with a small and ashamed smile. “Thank you.” I decided to start counting up yesterday’s earnings while she was deciding. “Uhh... Okay. I think I’m ready.” I closed up the cash register. “I’ll take a tall peppermint mocha...”

“With whipped cream and extra chocolate, I’m assuming?”

“You probably knew what I was going to say before I did, didn’t you?” she huffed in false frustration. “And, well, the orange scones and the eggnog brownies both look delicious, so since I can’t decide, I’ll just have one of each.”

“You got it.”

Once she’d paid and had her order in her hands, I expected her to say a quick, “Thank you!” and walk away with it. Instead, when I handed over her drink, she stuck by the counter, looking as though she had something else on her mind. It wouldn’t be long before I’d find out what that was.

“So, Link...” I turned back around to face her. She must’ve read my name tag at some point. She was twirling a lock of golden hair between two dainty digits, glancing around the soon-to-be bustling café area. “Have you got any plans for Christmas? Anyone you’ll be spending it with?”

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I haven’t got family.”

The corners of her lips fell. “Oh. Are they out of town or something?”

I shook my head. “They all got into a bad accident about seven years ago. Both my parents and my sister.”

“Oh...” A look of deep, genuine sympathy found its way onto her face. “I’m sorry.” A short moment of silence passed between us. Then she broke it, saying, “Me neither, actually.” I looked up from the cash register. “My mother passed away when I was really young and then I lost my father as a teenager.” It was difficult to process what I was hearing. I’d never imagined she’d have that kind of story just based on our handful of previous interactions.

“Hey, boss, want me to take over?” offered one of my few employees, pointing at the machine from beside me.

“Oh sure. Thanks.” He nodded, letting me step aside and out from behind the counter. When I met eyes with Zelda again, however, my mind drew a blank. “I’m sorry,” I laughed. “What were we just talking about?”

“It’s okay!” she reassured. “I was just going to say again, I’m so sorry about your family. That’s awful.”

I wasn’t really sure what the appropriate response would’ve been, so I simply said, “I’m sorry about yours.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” It quite frankly broke my heart just seeing her with anything but a smile on her face. “So what are you going to do for Christmas? Are you just staying home by yourself or...?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yeah, same here.” The silence returned for a short while as she took a cautious sip of her coffee until she quietly said, “Would...you maybe want to hang out? With me? On Christmas...?”

Her suggestion sent my thoughts into overdrive. The image of getting all cozy and warm by the fire with her in my arms and maybe even sharing a kiss or two under the mistletoe gave me a sudden rush of glee from head to toe. But then, maybe she didn’t have that exact scenario in mind. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“You’re not going to be working or anything, are you?” she asked, making me realize I was taking too long.

“Oh, no!” I cleared my throat in embarrassment. “That would be lovely. Were you thinking, like, one of us would go over to the other’s place for dinner or...would that be too soon...?”

Her face flushed as she stuttered out her answer. “That’s—I mean, I-I’d be happy to do that as long as it’s okay with you.” Then her shoulders shook with laughter as she added, “Let’s not go to mine, though. I have a flatmate who’s... Well, she’s a bit eccentric, as it were.”

“Mine it is, then,” I chuckled. “We could go out and do something else beforehand too, if you’d like.”

“That sounds perfect! Uh, where should we meet?” she pondered. “Oh! How about the park on Nayru Street? At...three o’clock?”

“I’d like that.��

When Christmas day arrived, it brought with it devastatingly low temperatures and a snowstorm overnight. So when I spotted her upon arriving at the park, I hadn’t expected her to come wearing nothing but a mini skirt, some sheer leggings, and a thin sweater with what looked like a button-up shirt underneath. Honestly I hadn’t really been expecting her to come at all. Nevertheless, there she was, waving at me from the opposite corner of the road.

“Hey, I’m so glad you came!” she chirped once I’d gotten within hearing range. Her pale pink, knitted hat with the pompom on the end, along with the pleats of her skirt, made her look like a cupcake. A shivering, frostbitten cupcake.

“Aren’t you cold?” I inquired.

“What? No! Not at all,” she scoffed, teeth chattering.

I stepped toward her and held out my hand without thinking, then stuffed it back in my pocket. What could I do? There was no chance she’d last more than an hour out in the icy December climate wearing that. I wanted to be a gentleman, but it wasn’t like I could give her my trousers to keep her warm.

“Link, don’t worry about it,” she insisted. “I’ll be f-fine.”

This didn’t do much to ease my concern for her, but I shrugged it off, trying my best not to worry.

A few hours went by remarkably quickly. After meeting up at three, we’d spent a little while in the park, sharing stories and learning more about each other’s lives. I told her about my experience with starting my own business, and she told me of her aspirations to become a groundbreaking tech engineer. Then the sun began its decent. While we went to grab hot drinks (which seemed to help warm her up temporarily), she had the idea of touring some high-end neighbourhoods to see all the lights and decorations. But by then, it had started snowing again, and she was shaking so much, it looked like her legs could’ve given out at any moment.

My heart lurched when I saw her stumble on the way up a particularly steep incline. I rushed to her side, even though she’d mostly managed to catch herself on her own. She was starting to look pale. “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely not fine. Let’s get you inside.”

“Yeah...” She nodded shakily, steadying herself on my arm. “Okay.”

The trip back to my flat lasted around half an hour, which was still longer than either of us would’ve preferred. The busses weren’t running due to the ice on the roads, so we had to go by train. At least now she was sheltered from the raging blizzard outside. The poor thing was shivering the whole way, albeit slightly less. I was doing all I could to protect her from the cold by rubbing up and down her arms, which she didn’t seem to mind, even leaning back into me a couple of times.

“I’m so sorry about tonight,” she frowned as she followed me through the front door once we’d arrived. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold, and I just wanted us to have a fun night out together. I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s okay, Zelda,” I hushed, turning on the fireplace and sitting her down in front of it. “We can still have fun here, can’t we? We can do whatever you want once we’ve eaten, your choice.”

Her frown turned into a shy smile. “Thank you,” she sniffled.

I nodded, stripping off my snow-covered jacket and hanging it up. “Would you like something a bit more comfortable to wear maybe...?”

“No, that’s alright,” she dismissed, noticing the—one might say ‘minimalist’—tree I’d set up on the mantel next to the television. “Thanks, though. I just need a minute here to...regain my body heat, I think.”

“Well, if you need anything, just ask.”

And with that, I made my way to the kitchen to get started making dinner. Once she’d recovered for the most part and some colour had returned to her cheeks, she took it upon herself to help me with cooking. It wasn’t a very traditional Christmas dinner, but she enjoyed it, as did I. The highlight, however, was yet to come. After filling our stomachs and having a bit of light banter, we sat down on the sofa to watch some shabby Christmas films together by the fireplace.

“Hey, so...” She turned her attention to me when I paused the movie abruptly. “I heard somewhere that you like cake.”

She straightened up, eyes dilating like a cat who’d been offered a saucer of cream. “There’s cake?”

“There is indeed,” I laughed, rising to my feet. “Would you care for some?”

“Oh, would I ever.” She sprung up and followed me back to the kitchen, where I’d already put my seasonal masterpiece out on display. She gasped. My concoction consisted of two layers of black forest cake frosted with and separated by white buttercream. To top it off, I’d lined the circumference with black cherries and, as the centrepiece, created a miniature forest scene using artificial evergreen trees and some powdered sugar. “Link,” she gaped as I observed her awestruck reaction with pride. “I... You shouldn’t have.”

“But I did.” I was beaming from ear to ear as she took her eyes off the tantalizing treat to look back at me. Picking up the knife and positioning it at the edge of the cake, I tried to ask, “How much do you have room for?”

But then she cut me off with an alarmed, “Wait!”

I halted, leaving only a millimetre or two between the cake and the edge of the knife.

“I mean...” she stuttered. “Sorry. It just looks too perfect. You know?”

Eventually she came to terms with the fact that she quite literally couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. So once I’d served us both a slice, she pranced back to the living room with me just a few paces behind. As “A Charlie Brown Christmas” resumed on the screen, I watched her take her first bite out of the corner of my eye. “Wow,” she garbled around a mouthful of rich, chocolaty goodness before swallowing. “Link, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

I blushed, the sounds from the TV fading into white noise in the background. “You can have my cherries if you want.”

A gleaming grin lit up her face. “Oh my god, really?” She scooted closer to me so that I’d be able to roll them off of my plate and onto hers with my fork. Any further and her thigh would’ve ended up right up against my own.

Once she’d cleaned off her plate, she set it down on the coffee table in front of us and relaxed into the back of the sofa, which nearly swallowed her up with how deep it was.

“Damn,” she smiled to herself, making me turn my head. “Now I feel bad for not getting you a gift or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I put my plate down next to hers. “Just spending the day with you has been wonderful.” She looked at me with not a trace of dismay in her gaze, eyes warm and filled with nothing but contentment. “Honestly, I can’t think of anything that would’ve made me happier. Thank you for today.”

Her gaze landed in her lap, a dusting of pink settling on her cheeks. “I should be thanking you.”

I hadn’t noticed, but as time had passed from that point, she’d been gradually reclining in my direction. The moment our mutual acts of platonism fell apart was the moment her head made contact with my shoulder. I couldn’t help but give in and let my arm drape itself around her. An upward curve settled into the corners of her lips briefly before they drooped sleepily back down. I took a glance at the clock hanging by the kitchen—it was half ten already.

Zelda’s eyes were all but closed, lips parted just so, and some of her hair had scattered across her face. I tucked it back behind her ear, trailing my fingertips along her downy hairline in the process. They wanted to keep going down her face, once they’d reached her ear, to discover whether those lips were as soft and warm as they appeared. “Zelda?” I murmured her name, not wishing to disturb her in her peaceful disposition. She gave me a sort of hum in delirious acknowledgement. “C...can I...?”

She hummed again in almost the same way as before, perhaps not having realized what I was about to say. Then again, her cheeks did seem a slight bit rosier now. I leaned in, thumb coming to rest on her jawline. She tilted her head up, eyes fluttering the rest of the way closed.

But I still hesitated. About to play out before my very eyes was the scene that had been running in the back of my mind ever since the first time I laid eyes on her. Ever since the first time I’d witnessed her indulging in one of my creations. Her lips and tongue would taste of sugar and strawberries if all my fantasies were to realize themselves. But what if they didn’t? Or even, what if they did? What would we be after today? This would change everything between me and her, and there would be no turning back.

Lazy fingers curled around the back of my neck, and before I could give it another thought, her lips and mine had met.

She did indeed taste sugary and sweet, as one would expect from someone whose last thing they’d eaten had been a slice of cake. Yet that wasn’t what stood out to me, made me melt into a useless puddle on the floor. It was the way she leaned her weight into me, trusting me to catch her with no questions asked. The way she made me drape my arms around her waist, wanting to feel as close to her as my corporeal being would allow. She was so warm and so soft. It had been an age since I’d known the feeling of home. Was this it?

I’d soon have my answer, as the moment her lips began to disappear from mine, I felt a sudden surge of homesickness swelling up in my chest. My heart pleaded for her not to leave, and she must’ve heard it, because no sooner than when I opened my eyes did she press her lips to my own again.

It would be a while until I’d be able to tear myself away from her long enough to ask her the question I had burning on my tongue. “What would you think,” I muttered, “about...spending the night here?”

“That...” Her eyes squinted. “That doesn’t—” She was interrupted by a yawn, which she covered with one hand. My breath went still. “...sound so bad actually.” I exhaled in relief, seeing her droopy eyes filling up with warmth. “Is it too late to accept your offer from earlier? About comfier clothes?”

“Not at all.”

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #link x zelda #zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink ff #modern au #link pov #happy holidays everyone!

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saiilorstars · 3 years

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Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 31: Impeccable Timing

Previous chapters // Montserrat's masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OFC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Montserrat-"

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

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

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

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

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

"Are they?"

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

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

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

"I'm only thinking-"

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

"So then why did people get hurt?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Juliana did not answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No! Because you're grounded!"

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She punched a girl and broke her nose."

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

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

The detective in question threw a concerned look at Kara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? What happened to Declan?"

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

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

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

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

"So what can we do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

~0~

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

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

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

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

"Broke another student's nose."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She still hasn't collected it?"

"$5000 short."

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

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

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

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

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

But the thing was…

He didn't care.

He needed to help her and he had the means.

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

~0~

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

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

"And I said that I wasn't!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, she looked mad as hell."

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

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

"Me? What for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me!?" Kara blinked with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafael nodded silently.

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

"Wish I could do more," he blurted.

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

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

"Nobody escapes Kara Mackie," Kara proudly said.

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

"And Juliana?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What, did you steal it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, I am!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Montserrat laughed. "Oh c'mon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

"Sonny?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You paid my brother's bail money."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

"Truth?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"There's the truth," she spat.

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

"I know! Let me go!"

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

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

"Montse…"

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't do that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah she does."

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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