#and I do like Damien for the record it’s just now I’m not gonna be able to separate the two bastards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainmalewriter · 2 years

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An Odd Trend Pt. 3

Check out part two to this series here!

Dennis was working from the comfort of his home. He held his hand against his head as he typed away on his laptop.

Dennis held great pride in his occupation as a full time radio host. But the changing times brought with it technological advances, which made jobs like radio hosts more and more obsolete. Dennis worked twice hard to keep up with the demands of the rapidly changing times. While he was able to stay afloat despite being only a small channel, it was not without several sacrifices. Soon enough he had found that working long hours on end would take its toll on his middle aged body in the form of back aches and eye pain. The pay left much to be desired too, as he and his wife Charlotte were always drifting the line between poverty and comfortable living.

But despite all these poor conditions, Dennis kept at it. Not just for himself and his wife, but for their twin kids too. Unfortunately for Dennis, however, the twins were in the middle of their teen years. As any parent knows, parenting teens is a headache in and of itself.

The clock struck 5 in the evening. Dennis closed out all his tabs and shut down his laptop. It was time to go live for the Wednesday report. Dennis got up from the couch and proceeded to walk towards the makeshift recording booth down in the basement. Just before he entered the basement, he noticed something red moving in the hallway from the corner of his eye.

"Cheyenne? Is that you?" Dennis called out.

There was a moment of silence before his teenage daughter stepped out from behind the hallway. She was dressed in all black, with several chains and locks scattered all throughout her clothes. Her clothes left little to the imagination of her figure too, much to Dennis' dismay.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dennis said with a furrowed brow.

"Out with friends," Cheyenne sighed and rolled her eyes as she spoke.

"Dressed like that? You're out of your goddamn mind if you think you're going out like that, little Missie! Go cover up!"

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed, huh?"

"Everything! A 16 year old girl should not be dressed like a punk!"

"Dad, this is who I am! Why can't you just accept it!? I'm going out with my friends and you can't stop me!" Cheyenne shouted.

Just as Dennis opened his mouth to respond, the power in the house went out. Dennis and Cheyenne looked at each other in the darkened hallway. Footsteps then came running down the staircase next to them.

"Damien, what the fuck did you do now!?" Dennis shouted at the teen, who threw his hands up.

"Dad, I can explain, I've been doing some hacking on social media sites to see what dirt I could find. I just needed some extra power to get through some of the cybersecurity. Look, it's actually pretty cool!"

Damien took out his phone and clicked several things. He then extended his arm out to show Dennis. Dennis feigned interest at first, only to yank the phone out of his son's hand and smack him on the head.

"I'm really not in the mood for any bullshit from either of you. Cheyenne, I want all that shit off of you by the time I'm done with the show. Damien, go reset the breakers and maybe go do something that isn't dangerous for once. I'm tired of the reckless behavior from the both of you. You're both grounded for the rest of the week, I don't want to hear any more trouble or so God help us all."

Cheyenne and Damien immediately began to protest, but Dennis quickly shut both of them down. He merely ignored their complaints as he continued his way into the basement. He was already running late and hurried up to go live. Thankfully, Damien had reset the breakers and the power came back on by the time Dennis had everything set up.

"What am I gonna do with those two..." Dennis muttered to himself. He took one last breath, and then hit the button to go live.

"Howdy folks, welcome back to Get Real, the radio show all about keepin' it real. I'm your host Dennis McIntyre, and I hope y'all are having a mighty fine evening tonight."

Dennis went on with his radio show like usual. He covered the latest news headlines in local news, politics, and the sports world. Dennis also threw in his own commentary whenever he could. His brand of satirical, sarcastic humor was what kept his audiences coming back from more after all.

"Alright, that's just about it for the headlines y'all," Dennis took a sip of water as he thought about how to fill in the last 15 minutes of air time. Before Denis would just talk more about any of the topics he had previously covered, but with all the stress he was carrying, his mind went blank when he tried thinking of what to say next. His eyes wandered while he thought about it. His gaze landed on the supposedly hacked phone he had taken from Damien. He picked up and opened it, taking him straight to Tiktok where Damien had left off. An idea struck him while he held it.

"You know, I'mma keep it real with y'all. Shout out to all the hard working parents out there who give their families the world even if it goes unappreciated, and I really mean that when I say that cuz I too know what's it like to be a parent. I love my kids to hell and back, but believe me when I say that they're rarely not a handful..."

Dennis fiddled with the hacked phone as he rambled on about parenting. For the most part, the phone seemed normal so far as Dennis could tell. He remembered how Damien had mentioned that it was social media sites he was messing around with. With that in mind, he opened up Tiktok again. After clicking around on the app, Dennis soon stumbled into a plethora of illegal content. Removed videos, pirated music and movies, illegally manufactured filters, the entire underside of Tiktok was right at Dennis' hands. He scoffed as he scrolled through all of the removed content.

"If I had to blame one thing for why kids are acting more and more these days, I'd blame all the phones and apps. All this technology will brainwash the mind and make young kids go mad!"

Dennis kept scrolling through the horrors. He was disgusted by everything he had saw. He only covered a small fraction but he had already seen enough.

"Now, I know y'all can only hear my voice, but I just recently took away my son's phone for fear of what he could get himself into. Let me show you all what I mean when I say these phones will be the death of us all,"

Dennis then hit a button that activated one of removed Tiktok filters. After a moment of buffering, the filter loaded, and Dennis had begun the Me & You challenge.

***

Hector laid down on the couch as the Me & You challenge loaded on his phone.

He was bored that afternoon, and after doing a deep dive into the hidden side of the internet, he found himself trying out supposedly dangerous internet programs. Hector had read about the Me & You challenge through online forums. The information he found was vague and questionable at best due to being on websites known for false information and conspiracy theories. According to the forums, the Me & You challenge connected two users through a video call. The two users would then somehow switch bodies with no way to switch back, forcing the two people to take on entirely new identities.

"Switching bodies..." Hector read all he could about the strange phenomenon. He grew more intrigued the more he thought about it.

"...Sounds hot."

Hector waited patiently as the video call connected. Soon enough, he found himself on the phone with a graying middle aged man who was holding the phone inches away from his face.

"Hello? Hello?" the man said. "Can you hear me? Who is this?"

"Hey, I can hear you! But can you move the phone? Like, away from your face,"

The man followed Hector's instructions. The man saw Hector on the phone and scowled; Hector simply smiled in return.

"How's it going bro, how you doing?" Hector asked.

"Why do you look like that?"

"Huh? Like what?"

The man pointed at the screen while still holding the same disgusted look. Hector's smile faded as the man began pointing at his own face in all the same places Hector had piercings or tattoos.

"You talking about my piercings and tattoos?"

"How old are you?"

"23? Why do you ask?" Hector asked.

The man ignored him and instead went on a tangent about how the next generation was being mentally poisoned by phones and social media. He kept referring to both Hector and his daughter who apparently dressed in similar style to him. All the while Hector grew more annoyed.

"Hey man, what the fuck is your problem?"

"See what I mean, folks? Absolutely no respect for your elders, it's like I always say..."

The gray haired man went off on another rant about the dangers of bad parenting. While the man kept lecturing, Hector had decided he had enough.

He searched for the end call button on his phone. Hector expected the X button to be in the corner like always, but when he went to press it, it wasn't there. Hector searched for the button but it was nowhere to be found. He tried hitting the home button and even the power button, but neither did anything. Hector grew impatient, but then a 🔄 button appeared on his phone. He was unsure what the button was, but decided to push it anyway. An odd clicking sound played, but as Hector half expected, the call continued.

The man had paused his endless ranting when he heard the odd click. He brought his phone close to his face again, then moved it away.

"I'm tired of wannabe hot shot punks like you. Have a good day." The man declared before squarely pushing the 🔄 button with this thumb. He had expected the video call to end, but instead he and Hector got a face full of bright, white light- causing both of them to kneel over to the ground in pain.

***

Cheyenne waited outside the garage with her ear pressed against the door. As soon as she heard that her father had stopped talking, she went inside. A walk turned into a sprint when she had seen her father rolling on the floor, wincing in pain.

"Oh my God, Dad! Are you okay?" Cheyenne rushed to his side. She also took the liberty of shutting down the live broadcast. No doubt Dennis would've wanted that to avoid going over schedule.

Cheyenne helped her still groggy father up to his feet. She then led him to the kitchen, struggling to hold up his body weight as the two waddled over. She sat him down a chair and gave him some water. After some time, "Dennis" looked like he was back to normal.

"Thanks for the water... Man! My head is killing me right now..." Hector said while massaging his temples.

Hector and Cheyenne sat in silence for a while. The silence was broken by Cheyenne as she faced her father with her hands against her chest.

"Dad, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk back to you, I'm sorry. I know you don't want me dressing like this and I deliberately disobeyed. I promise I won't do it again, just please don't ground me!"

Hector stared with wide eyes as Cheyenne poured her heart out to who she thought was her dad. He looked over how she was dressed and didn't see anything wrong with it. In fact, she looked like a teen girl version of himself in an alternate universe.

"Uh... Sure, kid... It sounds like you know what you did was wrong. You're not grounded anymore," Hector answered skittishly.

"Wait, really!? Thank you Daddy!"

Cheyenne went in for a hug. Hector was unsure how to react, only patting her on the back in response.

"No problem, kid, now go enjoy yourself!"

Cheyenne left the kitchen beaming. Hector found himself alone in a house he did not recognize. He stood and surveyed his new surroundings.

"Sweet digs," Hector mumbled as he walked around. He caught a glimpse of himself as he passed by the stainless steel fridge. He noticed he wasn't himself anymore; instead, he was in the body of the gray haired man he had talked to over.

"Holy shit..." Hector checked himself out in his reflection. He ran his hands over his new silver hair and his fully matured body. He whistled as he admired himself. "...I'm a fucking silver fox DILF now!!"

Hector spent the next half hour checking out his new body, only interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. He picked out and answered the incoming video call. On the other side of the call was his old body, staring daggers into him.

"Oh hey it's you! What's up bro, you enjoying my body?" Hector said cheerfully. His old body only mad dogged him in return. Hector could only laugh at the situation.

"What are you laughing about? This isn't funny," Dennis finally spoke up.

"C'mon man, just loosen up for once-"

"Loosen up!? This is literally the worst time-"

"QUIT FUCKING TALKING OVER ME!!"

Hector shouted into the phone. His new voice allowed him to hit volumes he previously couldn't hit before. His voice surprised him just as much as it surprised Dennis, although Hector kept a poker face to hide it.

"Shit man, I've only known you for like 15 minutes and I'm already fucking tired of your bitchy attitude. Always talking and lecturing and criticizing... I bet you do the same thing to your daughter, huh."

"Don't you dare touch Cheyenne!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it. What the fuck do you even think of me if you think I'd get at some minor? Seriously, I'd smack the shit out of you if you were here right now."

The two men sat in silence. Neither man had anything positive to say to the other.

This lasted for a couple of minutes, until Hector grew tired of holding a scowl on his face for so long.

"Look man, I don't know why we switched bodies. But the fact is we switched, and we're just gonna have to live like this while we figure out how to switch back. We can make the best of this."

"Humph, and how do you expect me to do that?" Dennis scoffed.

"I don't know! Go wild, I don't care, my body used to it. Just- loosen up for once and actually enjoy yourself. I promise I'll hold down the fort here too, you don't have gotta worry about a thing."

There was a pause in the conversation again.

"C'mon, gimme a smile," Hector said. "...Atta boy, I know you had it in you, ya old geezer."

Weeks had passed since the body swap happened. At first, Hector had assumed that swapping back would be as easy as the initial swap. He was dead wrong, for the Me & You challenge had once again erased itself from both of their phones.

Dennis had instructed Hector to tell his tech savvy son to do some hacking, but no matter how hard Damien tried, he could not relocate the body swapping filter. Dennis grew more and more worried while Hector worked harder to keep him optimistic, though even he knew that eventually they'd have to just give up.

As time went on, Hector had fully embraced his new dad look. He hated that he had lost so many years due to his new older age, but that only motivated him to take control of his life again. Dennis made him swear not to make any drastic changes and Hector kept his word. Instead of reverting back to his old look, he decided to amp up Dennis' silver fox look. He dyed his eyebrows, he touched up his hair, and he even worked out like there was no tomorrow. Soon enough, Hector's new body was the epitome of refined, mature youth again.

Hector never told Dennis' family about the whole body swap situation per his request. But acting as Dennis was a breeze for Hector. He had no problem keeping up with the responsibilities of being a husband, a father, and a radio show host. He even improved the latter as his cheery disposition as a host caused Dennis' viewer counts to go up. Something Dennis hadn't seen in years. The twins had no problem with their new dad either, as Hector was much more fair as a father than Dennis. His wife Charlotte loved his "new attitude" too, though Hector had a feeling Charlotte's approval might've had something to do with the earth shattering, lip quivering, soul shaking orgasms he'd give her every weekend. If Hector knew how to do anything, it was how to indulge in pleasure.

As for Dennis, he too learned how to adjust into his new younger body. Granted, the newfound youth helped him settle in much quicker than he expected. Dennis no longer had to deal with back aches and frequent headaches now. Plus, he didn't really have much to take on by himself as Hector didn't have very many obligations. He was a carefree, single man who loved the minimalist lifestyle. Dennis took full advantage of his new situation and allowed himself to go wild, just as Hector had suggested.

Soon enough, Dennis had started looking at the world in a more positive light again. Hector's optimism was rubbing off on him. It was a fair tradeoff for Hector too, however, as Dennis put himself to work whenever he wasn't wilding out. He helped build up Hector's financial stability, and soon enough, Dennis had built up some luxuries for Hector to return to once they swapped back as a thank you gift.

"You sure you're doing alright?" Hector asked Dennis over the phone. The two made it a habit to check in every other week if not every week.

"Of course I am, I've honestly never been better!"

"Really? I'm glad to hear that, things on my side are pretty great too. Not gonna lie man, you have a hot body. Not saying I wanted to switch bodies, but if I had to, I'm glad I got to do it with a handsome DILF like you."

"Heh, you took the words right out of my mouth, Hector. I'd say the same about you, I'm loving it here!"

"Haha, oh yeah? You like what you see?"

"I love it," Dennis answered. He laid down as he talked on the phone.

"Well, I'm glad I got you to relax a little. We could all use a change in perspective every now and then."

Hector and Dennis shared a laughed together over the phone.

"Are you ready for me, Big Boy?"

Dennis felt a hand smack his ass. He turned his head and smiled.

"Alright, it's been nice talking to you, but I gotta go- ahh!!"

Dennis dropped the phone when he felt himself getting penetrated. First the tip entered his hole slowly, then he took the entire length with a steady thrust, causing his virgin walls to expand.

Hector smirked as he heard a moan coming from the phone.

"Alright, Dennis, you dirty old dog. You have fun now, just remember to breath and relax as you ride, okay? Talk soon!"

Hector hung up the phone and then proceeded to head to the master bedroom where Charlotte was already naked and waiting for him.

******

Meanwhile...

...Inside a run down apartment building in the middle of some shady neighborhood, there was one apartment whose two residents were still up at 3 in the morning. In the dark living room lit only by a computer screen sat a hefty young man with glasses as he fiddled away at his high end laptop. Something he had stolen only a couple weeks prior.

"Hey, Josh, check this out. Someone used the program again," the guy beckoned to the other person in the room. He was much thinner, and with dyed red hair.

"What? But I thought you said Tiktok already took it down," the red haired guy said as he walked over to his computer friend.

"It was, but someone's used it to swap. Some guy named Dennis McIntyre from Colorado, and some other guy named Hector Casco from California."

"Holy shit... do you know what this means, Will?" the red haired guy grew elated. "People like what we've made, and they want to use it. How many swaps are we at now?"

"Mmm... Counting the last one, we're at 214 now," Will read off of his screen.

"Yup, that settles it, we gotta re-upload the program. This is amazing! People really wanna use our little app!"

Josh celebrated while Will sat in silence in front of his computer. Josh's excitement died down when he saw that his friend didn't share the same feeling.

"What's up with you? This is literally everything we've worked for and you're not happy about it?"

"I don't know, Josh... I'm worried... I mean, we're at 200+ swaps and so far nothing really bad has happened. But... how much further can we go before we get caught? Our luck is bound to run out eventually!"

Josh only laughed while Will wiped the sweat beads forming on his forehead.

"Already a step ahead of you, bud. We just gotta take the program to the next level if we don't wanna get caught, and I know exactly how to do it too."

Josh leaned into Will's ear and whispered something. As he talked, Will's frown morphed into a mischievous smile.

Check out part four to this series here!

#male body swap #male body switch #male body theft #middle age to young adult #age change #personality change #oddtrendseries #dad bod

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iheartgracie · 3 years

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hunterdemi quotes

“Nah.” I wink. “I’m worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Well, yeah. If I keep coming over to see you, your sisters will start getting insanely jealous, and their resentment will eventually make them treat you poorly and you’ll lose all of your friends. Is that really what you want, Semi?”

She laughs. “Oh no! You’re right. From now on you should climb in through my window. Like Romeo.” Her tongue shifts her lollipop to the other side of her mouth. “Spoiler alert: Romeo dies.”

“I burst out laughing at the outlandish question. “Please, for the love of God, keep your pants on.”

“You sure?” Hunter says, his fingers poised over the button of his jeans.

“Positive.”

“Your loss.” He winks and shoves his hands behind his head.

Davenport is entertaining, I’ll give him that”

“So, Mister…?” I wait for him to fill in the rest.

“Sexy.”

“Veto. You can do better than that.”

“Big,” he supplies.

I sigh. “Smith,” I say firmly. “You’re Mr. Smith. First name, um, Damien.”

“Like the devil kid from that horror movie? Veto. It’s bad karma.”

“You’re bad karma,” I mutter. Jesus, it’s taking forever just to record his fake name. At this rate, the project will never get done. “Fine, your first name is Richard, you picky dick.” He snorts.”

“A laugh pops out of his mouth. “We haven’t started the session. I’m being serious. I’m celibate.”

“Celibate?”

“Practicing abstinence,” he clarifies.

“I know what celibacy is, Hunter. I just don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

“Liar.”

“Honest to God truth.”

“Prove it.”

“How?” Hunter falls back on his elbows, his ripped body shaking with laughter.”

“How long has it been for you?” I can’t help but ask, because curiosity is a bitch.

“Since I fucked someone?”

“No, since you climbed Everest.”

“April. So…what’s that…five months?”

“You poor monk! That’s an eternity!” I tease.

“I know.” He lies down on the grass, using his backpack as a pillow. “It’s awful, Semi. I miss sex.”

“I had sex last night.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say.”

“HUNTER: Did you watch the Bruins game last night??

In one of our previous text exchanges, he’d been raving about some game on TV, and I’d mentioned I’d be sure to start watching hockey. I don’t think he picked up on the sarcasm.

ME: Oh ya! It was INTENSE! I can’t believe that player scored nineteen points!!!

HIM: You didn’t watch it, did you?

ME: No. Sorry. Told you, I don’t care for hockey.

HIM: I expected more from my therapist. Goodbye.”

“I miss blowjobs,” Hunter declares at the gym an hour later.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to my dick.”

Snorting, I dip my gaze south. Not gonna lie—his package is kind of impressive beneath his black track pants. I make a magnanimous gesture at his crotch. “I’m sincerely sorry for your recent troubles, Hunter’s dick.”

Hunter’s dick’s owner nods soberly. “He appreciates the sentiment.”

This fucking guy. He is either the best or the worst. I still haven’t decided.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” he announces. “You’re not allowed to be one of those girls, Semi.”

“I don’t believe in outhouses, okay? I prefer camping in a place with walls and a toilet and Wi-Fi and—”

“That’s not camping!”

“Exactly. It’s glamping, like I said.”

“Boooooo!”

“Will you please stop booing me?”

“Just when I was starting to like you, I find out you’re a spoiled Miami brat who refuses to sleep in a tent.”

“I didn’t say it so you would say it back. I said it because I felt it. I’m in love with you. And I don’t want to kiss anybody but you.”

“That woman is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

#hunterdemi #off campus #offcampus #briar u #briaru #hunter davenport #demi davis

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

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Nobody's Perfect (part10)

Warnings - mentions of baby loss / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers

The following days of filming were tense to say the least. Helen had tried talking to Cillian but refused. He also refused to come back to your room, having booked himself his own in a different hotel. You'd tried talking to him onset but he kept his distance from you as much as possible, having arranged with Steve to push back his scenes with you until a later date. Steve hadn't asked questions, fortunately.

You had the weekend off, and had planned for the two of you to spend it with your sister and her husband in Liverpool. As you were packing your bag on the Friday afternoon, you heard your hotel door open. Turning round, you saw Cillian, bag over his shoulder.

"Hey..." You almost whispered, choking up at the sight of him. He looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Hey. Listen - " you stopped him.

"No, you listen. I never should have said those things Cillian.. I never should have shouted at you. I never should have shut you out.. I just didn't know what to say! All the hurt, and pain.. just bottled up inside me and I couldn't keep it in any longer.. being Clara again, knowing she was having a baby, it broke my heart... I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry..." He put his bag on the floor and took you in his arms, holding you as you cried for the first time in front of him. You could feel his body shake as he cried too. Months of pain and anguish came crashing out of you both as you sunk to the floor together. He hadn't realised he'd left the door open, and Helen rushed in to you in a panic, finding you kneeling on the floor together in pieces and wrapped her arms round you both, shutting the door so as not to alert anyone else. You both fell into her, as she calmed you both and stood you up.

"Now listen to me, both of you. No one deserves what you're going through, no one.. but I can't watch you both destroy yourselves over it any longer. What are your plans this weekend?" You wiped your eyes and told her you were going to your sisters for the weekend.

"Well you better let me call her, because you're not going." You both looked at her, confused. "Here's my keys. This is my and Damien's holiday home in the Lake District. Completely private, no neighbours for miles. It's yours for the weekend. Fully kitted out, groceries already bought. The girls and I have it all taken care of."

"But my sister - "

"Will understand when I call her and explain what's happening. We have every weekend off now, you can go to your sisters next weekend?" You looked at Cillian and he smiled.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea y/n?"

"Your sister's the one I met at the premiere, right? Tall, blond, drinks like a fish?" You laughed, remembering how well Helen and your sister had got on that night doing tequila slammers and dancing like maniacs to the Macarena. "It's only about an hour away from here. If you leave now, you'll be there in time to watch the sun set over the hills. Turn your phone's off, and reconnect. Talk. And change the sheets before you leave." She smirked, before Cillian pulled her close for a hug.

"Love you Helen. You always know what to do..."

"Aunt Pol knows everything. Give me your sisters number y/n and get out of here!"

Hand in hand, you walked into the cottage and instantly blown away. It was simply beautiful. Rustic yet elegant, olde worlde yet stylish.. it screamed Helen McCrory and you both loved it. Setting your bags in the living room, Cillian made his way over to the record player in the corner and chose a record he knew you loved. Putting it on, he held out his hand. You giggled, taking it, as he pulled you close, swaying with you to the music. No words exchanged, they weren't needed.

As the song drew to a close, he lifted your chin up and leaned in, his lips meeting yours for the first time in nearly a week. Your arms pulled him closer, as your tongues met, and he slowly pushed you over to the sofa. You pulled his jacket off his shoulders before he lifted your t-shirt over your head, puling back to admire you. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra with one hand, his eyes and hands roamed slowly over your chest and shoulders like it was the first time he'd ever seen or felt them.

He slowly unbuttoned your jeans, letting them fall to the floor along with your underwear. As you stood completely bare in front of him, you felt slightly self-conscious, and covered yourself a little.

"Don't. Let me look at you. You're beautiful, don't you know that?"

"I haven't felt it for a while."

"And that's my fault. Let me make you feel beautiful?" You nodded as he guided you to the bedroom down the hall. Walking in, you both saw rose petals over the fresh bedsheets, as well as a bottle of champagne on ice with two glasses.

"They went all out didn't they?" You smiled as he lay you down onto the bed. His lips carefully caressed over your neck, down your collarbone and over your breasts as you arched your back at his touch, sending tingles down your spine.

He kissed over your belly, down to your hips, and parted your legs slowly. He blew softly against your core, making you shudder, as his tongue lapped from the bottom up to your clit, circling it gently. You were panting now, desperate for release. His fingers brushed over your thighs and into your groin, before easing two fingers inside you, sliding in effortlessly as if they were made for this purpose alone. His mouth was torture on you, you could feel your orgasm building.

"Please... Cillian..." You begged, raising your hips to meet his tongue. He responded perfectly - upping the pressure and speed of his tongue as he drove you over the edge, you came crying his name. With one more gentle kiss to your clit, he stood up, once again admiring you silently. You sat up and pulled at the zipper on his jeans. Pulling them down with his boxer shorts and taking his hard cock in your hand. Giving it a few gentle pumps, watching his mouth fall open slightly, you smirked as your mouth took him in, he gasped when he felt the back of your throat. Licking up the shaft and over the head, you swallowed him down again, his hand on the back of your head, pulling the pony tail out so he could grip your hair. You groaned into his cock, feeling it twitch in your mouth as he pulled your hair, you could hear him groaning above you, spurring you on.

"Y/n.. I'm gonna come..." You bobbed your mouth faster, and felt him cum deep down your throat, swallowing every drop down.

"Fuck woman... Your mouth is incredible..." He pushed you back onto the bed and lined himself up against you.

For a man over 40, he had the libido of a 25 year old around you, it wasn't long until he was ready to go again.

Pushing you back, he lined himself up against your entrance and pushed in slowly, savouring each second feeling you clench your muscles around him.

"Missed this.." you gasped as he bottomed out, and he kissed you again, moving his hips back and forth easily. A steady rhythm, his forehead against yours as you breathed heavily against each other, looking into each others eyes. Your legs wrapped around his body as high as you could get them, he hooked one of your knees up with his elbow and thrust a little harder, sending you spiralling again. A few more strokes and you came together, you held him tight against you until he'd softened completely, not wanting to let him go.

You'd talked most of the night about everything, in-between more love-making and drawing pleasurable moans from each other, before falling asleep finally around 2am. The following morning, you were making him breakfast in the large kitchen area when he came through wearing his boxer shorts and stood watching you from the doorway.

"You know, I was gonna head to Ireland last night before Helen came in," he confessed.

"I know. I saw the plane ticket on our online banking app. I thought you were leaving me..."

"No, I just needed space. But now I know it isn't space I need, it's you. Only you. I'm sorry I've put you through this y/n..." You turned the hob down and made your way over to him, linking your body against his.

"You know I've never once blamed you, for any of this? I thought we were a team?"

"We are, but you're not the one who's infertile y/n."

"WE are going through this - not ME. We. We have one more round of IVF to go, and if that doesn't work then we'll work it out - okay?"

"I'm worried you'll end up leaving me.."

"Shut up Murphy for the love of God!" You laughed slapping his chest. "Nothing would make me leave you, okay? I could have 100 babies with anyone, but I want one with YOU, and only you. No more talk of leaving, deal?" You booped your nose against his and grinned.

"Deal."

#cillian smut #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader

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avionvadion · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Quotes as Characters From My Webtoon

Irene: “Where's Damien, Sasha, and Rhycelia?”

Rupert: “They're playing hide and seek.”

Irene: “Where?”

Rupert: “I don't think you get how this game works.”

…

Damien: “Can I be frank with you guys?”

Rupert: “Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.”

Sasha, signing: “Can I still be Sasha?”

Rhycelia: “Shh, let Frank speak.”

…

Rupert: “Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.”

Maria: “This knife is actually a magic wand.”

Amelia: “Meet me in the castle’s courtyard for a wizard duel.”

Illiad: *draws bow and arrow* “Magic missile.”

Alexander, the only actual mage of the group: “What the fuck is wrong with you people.”

…

Irene: “Bye Rupert! Bye Maria! Bye Alexander! Bye Darian! Bye Rupert!”

Maria: “You said ‘bye Rupert’ twice.”

Irene: “I like Rupert.”

…

Amelia: “Anyone d-“

Edmund: “Depressed?”

Rupert: “Drained?”

Irene: “Dumb?”

Danielese: “Disliked?”

Amelia: “-done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...”

…

Illiad: “Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life!”

Rupert: “Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years!”

Irene: “Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!”

Alexander: “I knew I lost that potential somewhere!”

Edmund: “My moral code, is that you?”

Illiad:

Illiad: “I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?”

…

Irene: “I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.”

Maria: “I witnessed the dumb stuff.”

Alexander: “I recorded the dumb stuff.”

Amelia: “I joined in on the dumb stuff.”

Rupert: “I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!”

…

Alexander: “Are we really going to let Maria keep Valerian?”

Amelia: “We kept Danielese.”

…

Amelia: “What did you guys get in your yearbook?”

Irene: “‘Prettiest Smile'.”

Alexander: “‘Nicest Personality'.”

Maria: “‘Most likely to start a bar fight'.”

Rupert: “‘Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'.”

…

Rupert: “WHY. Why did you give Rhycelia a KNIFE?!”

Maria: “I’m sorry. She said she felt unsafe.”

Rupert: “Now I feel unsafe!”

Maria: “I’m sorry.”

Maria: “…Would you like a knife?”

…

Irene: “Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Maria: “I'm a knife.”

Illiad, from across the room: “They're the little spoon.”

…

Rupert: “Irene and I are having a baby.”

Damien: “That's gre-“

Rupert, slamming adoption papers on the table: “It's you, sign here.”

…

Amelia: “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Rupert: “Wasn't Irene with you?”

Irene: “In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.”

…

Amelia: “This is a mistake.”

Irene, enthusiastically: “A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!”

Amelia: “But not today.”

Irene, still enthusiastic: “Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess.”

…

Amelia: “How many kids do you have?”

Rupert: “Biologically, emotionally, or legally?”

#the red kingdom scarlet pages #rupert raymal dupress #incorrect quotes

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Human Ch. 2: I Want YOU in This Custody Fight

Summary: It’s not a date if you argue about the kids in front of the restaurant staff.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chase tried to dress nice when he came to this building. It was one of the fancier restaurants under Dark’s control. He didn’t have a whole lot of nice suits but he did have a white button-up and a black vest. But that was as far as he got.

Dark never seemed to mind either way. After all this was strictly business. They’d talk about the twins, and then Chase would leave. The Entity would offer for Chase to order something from the menu, “on me”, and the marksman would always turn him down, even before he first glanced at the menu.

After he’d seen the menu he was determined to never order anything from this place because it was way too much for anything.

But the view . . . the view was amazing. The restaurant was situated by the river and so at night it looked amazing. Dark was always in a private business room, to make sure their conversations couldn’t be easily overheard by errant patrons.

As Chase walked up, sans superhero outfit or mask because he didn’t want his meetings with Dark getting on the news at all, a waiter led him right to Dark.

When Chase walked in he had his usual crisis, his feet stopping and a weight settling in his heart. Dark had his back to him as he looked out into the city.

Chase got his feet to work and he took his usual seat.

Dark sighed when Chase sat down, “I heard what happened.”

“Mori and Tempus think he’s better now, least he’s not runnin’[1] around naked in the woods anymore,” Chase reported. “I think Mem got most ‘a[2] it out ‘a[2] his system.”

Dark clicked his tongue. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, at least the others don’t have to be watched so some random hiker wouldn’t get attacked.”

That got a chuckle out of Chase, settling a bit in his chair. “Really? I find that hard ta[3] believe.”

“Arthur was a bit of a handful but at least he could be contained to his books. He didn’t actively seek to become chaos itself.” Dark’s fingers drummed casually on his desk.

“Prolly[4] could have cut him off beforehand if I hadn’t been on patrol this mornin’[5],” Chase’s eyes tracked over as a waiter came in to bring some wine for Dark and a water for Chase, he was braced for a random attack. It was mostly out of habit — because of Clubs — but still trained all the same.

Dark’s aura circled around the rim of his wine glass. “Yes, Illinois commented the same.”

The Entity’s aura hummed as he thought, he twisted the base of glass with two fingers. “I was thinking that perhaps the problem is not that they need constant supervision, it’s merely that they’re bored and they do the first thing that comes to mind.”

“Not sure how I can help with that ta[3] be honest,” Chase admitted.

Dark paused to take an especially long sip of his wine. “It has occurred to me that perhaps if they spend a bit long thinking about the ideas they have that maybe they would make wiser decisions. They are very young spawnlings, and there is a certain impulse that such young demons only have when they have never been threatened and feel safe in a territory.”

“Really?” Chase smiled. “Yeh[6] were impulsive back in the day? Would’a[7] loved ta[3] see that.”

Looking away, Dark took another sip, “No, I made Egoton into what it is today so I would not have to waste my time finding a new territory every couple of decades.”

The smile didn’t fade from Chase’s face quite yet. “So yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the twins, err, boys.”

At that mistake, the smile did drop and Chase was glaring out the window for a full second or two. “Yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the boys?”

“A couple,” Dark mercifully ignored the slip up. “My first option was to just stick them with Illinois, he’s more than mentally equipped to corral chaotic spawnlings. But with the wedding coming up, I figured . . .”

Dark trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “Best not to leave the responsibility with Illinois.”

Chase felt the urge to say something, but he didn’t even know what that something was, so he kept quiet. He preoccupied himself with wiping down the condensate from his glass.

“Tempus is fine on her own, but if I leave her to them, she’d only mildly protest at whatever they do and then record them, and Wil only seems to enable their destructive behavior,” Dark continued.

“Hmph, that’s Bubbles fer[8] yeh[6],” Chase dismissed coldly. “I think he might e’en be givin’ ‘em ideas.”[9]

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Dark agreed, “Tempus too, a couple of their more harebrained stunts have actually been her idea, despite Memento’s insistence that he’s the brains of their operation.”

That got a chuckle out of Chase.

“But that still leaves me with a problem, namely that apart from Illinois or myself there seems to be only one other person who can reason with them, or at least enough that they don’t get themselves into legal trouble. Their minor antics are fine, especially if they can confine it to the Manor, but running around the parks or beaches is getting them into trouble, and getting them noticed by demon hunters.”

“Yikes, didn’t know it was that bad yet,” Chase sat up a little straighter.

“It’s nothing that can’t be handled, but I was thinking, and Kay and Illinois posed the idea themselves, that you could help,” Dark proposed, his expression neutral and guarded. “Since you seem to be the only other person they listen to.”

Chase was quiet, the room was so quiet that he could dimly hear chatter from the other room. He wasn’t exactly sure where this conversation was going. “I’m tryin’ ta watch ‘em, but I still got patrols ta keep up with. I’ve got ta deal with random bullshite that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part ‘a the Coalition.”[10]

“The heroes have more than enough people to deal with them,” Dark dismissed.

“Dark, I’ll keep doin’ e’erythin’ I can fer the boys, but I’m tryin’ ta stay on good behavior,”[11] Chase reminded him. “It’s bad enough they’re barely lettin’ me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t bein’ a hero. It’s the only thin’ I got goin’ fer me.”[12]

Dark meant to be reassuring, that Chase was a natural parental figure underneath his poor mental health and self-incriminating bad choices. That they’d made a mistake when Chase was denied his children. But such words required a certain amount of emotional vulnerability from Dark, and the Entity could never allow himself to be vulnerable, even when it was desperately needed.

So the words that came out of his mouth were, “I could make sure there were no problems.”

Chase froze, staring at Dark in alarm. Normally his head and heart were at war. Between wanting to treat Dark like a dearly loved friend, and his head who reminded Chase that Dark was a dangerous, demonic mob boss. Someone who destroyed lives that didn’t suit him.

At this moment there was no discourse.

“What does that mean?” Chase’s tone was terse.

“I don’t see why anyone should have a problem with you seeing any of your children, Anti has not used you as a host in months. He has not targeted you in even longer. The correct people merely need . . . convincing.”

“No!” Chase snapped, surging up so he was away from the table. “Don’t! Just stop right there. Yer not gonna threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doin’ fine with ‘em. If yeh could get yer fookin’ claws outta Paddy that’d be e’en better.”[13]

“Your eldest has his own goals and if he wants to achieve it through my Network, I see no reason to stop him,” Dark dismissed. “He is an expert marksman who’s time and skill were being squandered on running around with other delinquents pretending to be gangsters. Crime and trouble would have found him if I hadn’t swept in and taken him.”

Chase made some ugly snort that carried his disbelief and offense.

“The four of them are already embroiled in the Network, it would certainly make things simpler,” Dark suggested, immediately doubling down on his point.

“Simpler?” Chase scoffed. “Fer who? I’m not gonna fookin’ sit on my arse until they do somethin’, it’s not like I’ve got anythin’ useful fer yer little crime organization.”[14]

Dark gave Chase a look.

Chase just stared at the Entity in alarm, “No.”

“You denying the very nature of your magic and soul doesn’t make it any less true,” Dark commented, metaphorically shoving his foot right into his mouth.

“No,” Chase repeated a little more firmly. “Fook[15] off.”

“The heroes have had a top marksman for years and yet you are sidelined constantly,” Dark commented. “Even if you’re not killing in my Network your skills would be more useful. You don’t even have to be in the room to do the job.”

“So that’s what this is?” Chase spat. “I’m just some asset fer yeh ta buy?”[16]

In the absence of anything that wasn’t an emotionally charged response, Dark fell silent.

Chase threw his hands up, so angry that there was a very furious grin where teeth ground together, “No. We’ll keep the system we got, it’s workin’[17] just fine.”

The marksman was boiling with rage and it didn’t help that Dark wasn’t confirming or denying it.

“Enjoy yer[18] overpriced steak, Dark, I’m goin’[19] home,” Chase decided, alright turning.

Dark stayed quiet, and when Chase looked back at him he let out a groan of annoyance and stormed off and out of the building.

The Entity didn’t stop him, he was too busy tending to his blue soul who was trying to follow Chase but was stopped because Dark was staying in his seat.

“He’s angry,” Damien commented in their shared headspace, his fragmented soul full of nothing but emotion and none of the social cues that kept those emotions from being acted on. “What did I do?”

“He’s a human, it’s all they do,” Dark’s red soul commented dryly. She was already wanting to leave, fretting about the mountain of work they needed to do.

“We can give him things,” Damien suggested hopefully, looking to Dark for approval.

Why? Dark asked. Is he the man we’ve been sleeping with for decades? Because I seem to remember someone a little more pink and mad. Or am I wrong?

Dark’s blue soul curled in on himself and stopped pulling the Entity to follow after Chase. He was more subdued than he’d been in a while.

It let Dark finally leave and head back to the warehouses to get some work done. And if Damien urged Dark to give little macabre trinkets to the triplets, he only hesitated for a little bit.

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

Post A/N: Man, if Dark and Anti were half as good at communicating as they were at killing people, all their problems would be solved!

Accessibility Translations:

1. running

2. of

3. to

4. Probably

5. morning

6. You

7. Would have

8. for

9. I think he might even be giving them ideas.

10. I’m trying to watch them, but I’ve still got patrols to keep up with. I’ve got to deal with random bullshit that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part of the Coalition.

11. Dark, I’ll keep doing everything I can for the boys, but I’m trying to stay on good behavior

12. It’s bad enough they’re barely letting me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t being a hero. It’s the only thing I got going for me

13. Don’t! Just stop right there. You’re not going to threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doing fine with them. If you could get your fucking claws out of Paddy that’d be even better.

14. For who? I’m not going to fucking sit on my ass until they do something, it’s not like I’ve got anything useful for your little crime organization.

15. Fuck

16. I’m just some asset for you to buy?

17. working

18. your

19. going

#Masks and Maladies #Superhero AU #footnotes #chase brody #darkiplier #wkm damien #wkm celine #DarkAverage #background darkstache #angst #these boys can't communicate #Dark admitting his feelings?#not on his watch #date night gone wrong #date night turns into fight night

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slowly-writing · 4 years

Text

Almost Lost You

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Requested by: n/a

Warnings: canon typical violence

This case was stumping the entire team. The dump sites had seemingly no correlation, so Ried’s geographical profile was out the window. The MO was all over the place which made it hard to nail down a profile on the unsub. The only thing that proved these murders were connected was the flowers the unsub was leaving in the victim’s hand, and even with that you were beginning to question it all.

“Does anyone else feel like their brain is melting?” JJ groans and you feel inclined to agree.

“Your brain can’t actually melt. You could boil the water in your brain but the fatty tissues that make up the majority of it are harder to break down,” Spencer says and you smile, at least his facts are always consistent.

“That’s not what she means, Spence. It’s a metaphor. She means she’s tired of getting nowhere with the case and she feels like all the work is physically hurting her,” you explain and he nods in understanding, looking at JJ whose head is now laying on the table of the conference room the three of you have hunkered down in.

“Did you know it’s actually proven that fresh air can increase productivity and reduce stress?” Spencer pipes up again and you chuckle as you rise from your seat, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and coaxing her up.

“Good call doc. I think I’m gonna take her outside for a bit before she puts that brain melting theory to the test. You take a break too, alright? Even geniuses have a breaking point,” you wait until he agrees to stop for a bit to lead JJ outside.

“It just feels so messy. Like there’s no way to get through it all,” JJ has tears in her eyes as she looks up at you and your heart breaks at her obvious frustration. You often wonder how JJ got into a field like this, so painful and gruesome. She has such a tender heart, if you had met her outside of work you would’ve guessed she was a teacher, maybe a social worker, but certainly not a profiler whose job was to hunt down some of the worst people the world had to offer.

“I know it feels like this will never end, but it will. I promise it will, because we’re not going anywhere until we catch this creep. Hotch and Emily are interviewing the victim’s families again as we speak and Morgan and Rossi are at the crime scenes. They will all get us some more to work on and eventually we’ll nail this guy.”

“You promise?” JJ’s voice is soft and you can’t resist the urge to pull her into your arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I do. Are you ready to go back in?” JJ nods and you pull away, “then let’s go crack this case.”

xxxxx

“Rose Allen, Jessica Phillips, and Sara Parker have been found dead. Now I don’t know about you guys but I sure as hell don’t want a fourth name added to that list,” Morgan snaps, slamming his hand on the table. You all look up from your notes at the outburst, and none of you blame him. JJ grabs your hand under the table and it calms you both as tensions rise in the room.

“What do you think we’re doing here? None of us want this to go on. We’re trying our best,” Emily knuckles are turning white as she clenches her first.

“Okay let’s all calm down. If we all put our head together then we can crack this. So, the women disappear from their daily routines, they are gone for a week before being found in various locations with different causes of death. What does that tell us?” Hotch starts the discussion and everyone settles in to work.

“He’s obviously stalking them. He knows their routines and is able to grab them without anybody seeing,” Rossi is the first to join in and you nod along.

“And the manner of the killing isn’t important to him, as long as they die. With victim number one we have strangulation, then stabbing, and last dehydration. He doesn’t care how they die as long as he can see them suffer,” your brow is furrowed as you think out loud.

“The flowers obviously mean a lot to him, right? It’s the only consistency,” Emily jumps in and everyone voices their agreement.

“They’re yellow roses. Those symbolize friendship, maybe these women told him they just wanted to be friends?” JJ says and you think she’s onto something until Spencer speaks up.

“Historically yellow roses have a different meaning. Now they are known to symbolize friendship but they actually used to stand for infidelity or unfaithfulness. He could’ve had a childhood trauma involving an unfaithful individual that still haunts him,” Hotch perks up as Reid finishes.

“Rose and Jessica’s family members said they were having relationship troubles, Sara’s family didn’t have much to say, but with how hostile her fiancé was, I’d bet my career that their relationship was rocky,” the analysis makes sense, at least it’s a start.

“Okay, so we have an unsub targeting people whose relationships are failing. Considering he targeted the girls I’d guess they were the ones who were unfaithful, who would know if they were?” Rossi asks and you all think through the list.

“If it was me I’d only tell my closest friends,” you say and try not to wince at the way JJ’s head snaps to face you. “I’m speaking hypothetically of course. I’ve never cheated so I don’t know what it’s like in that situation. I can only make an educated guess on the thoughts and feelings the victims were having in the moment,” you stare ahead as you say it, nobody knows you and JJ are together, and this is not how you want them to find out. “That was a poor choice of words,” you say and Emily raises an eyebrow at you.

“Ignoring y/n’s over explanation of how she’s never cheated on anyone,” Emily says slowly and you avoid eye contact. “None of these women shared friends. Garcia couldn’t even find evidence that they knew each other, let alone had the same confidants.”

“When Will and I went through all that we went to a relationship counselor. Is it possible they saw the same one?” JJ asks and Garcia pipes up for the first time.

“I can have that answer in just a few moments,” the sound of a keyboard can be heard through the computer, “aha! According to their credit card records they all saw Dr. Damien who is a well renowned relationship counselor in the area. She was, however, out of state for a conference when Rose and Jessica’s bodies were found and did not return until after Sara was reported missing.”

“It could still be someone in her office. Receptionist, coworker, hell even a janitor,” Morgan seems as desperate as you all feel.

“I have a receptionist who was working during all three intake appointments, Jacob Daniels and-oh gosh-At age 8 his father murdered his mother, in the trial he claimed it was because she was cheating with the neighbor who denied the allegations. Regardless there was no family and Jacob bounced around the foster system until he aged out five years ago. Three months ago he landed a job in Dr. Damien’s office and within a month and a half the first murder was commited,” Garcia relays the information, her eyes wide.

“That would be the stressor. Hearing about the failing relationships was too much for Daniels and he snapped. Garcia, do you have an address?” Hotch asks as you all stand, grabbing your gear.

“Like you even have to ask. Be safe my lovelies,” Garcia tells you all as she ends the call.

xxxxx

“Jacob Daniels FBI! Open up!” Hotch yells as he bangs on the door. You hear a crash inside and Morgan takes that as his cue to kick open the door. You’re the first inside and Daniels freezes when he sees the guns trained on him. He may be damaged, but he knows he can’t outrun a bullet. Instead he grabs a knife and points it towards you.

“Stay back!” He yells and you raise your hands, holstering your gun before speaking.

“I just want to talk, Jacob. Can we do that?” you ask and you can see him shaking as he looks between you, Morgan, Hotch, and Ried. Everyone else is still en route.

“They needed to die,” Jacob starts and you blink in surprise as he jumps straight into it.

“Why?” he focuses more on you, relaxing despite the three guns still pointed at him. You inch forward as he begins to talk.

“They didn’t know how to love. No woman knows how to love!” He yells.

“Now that’s not a fair statement, plenty of women know what love is,” you say and you can hear the other team calling their ETA through the comms, but you’re hoping to have this wrapped up before the three minutes it will take them to get here are up.

“Do you? Know how to love? Do you have someone?” Jacob’s voice is soft, almost a whisper as he desperately tries to prove himself wrong. You’re only a few feet away now, and he’s slowly lowering the knife. If you can just get a few inches closer you can grab it.

“I do. She is the most important person in my life.” Out of the corner of your eye you can see the confusion on your team’s faces but you don’t have time to focus on them right now. “I can’t tell you why someone would cheat on the love of their life, but I can tell you I never would. A few bad people isn’t a reason to give up on love or life. They hurt people, but they didn’t hurt you Jacob,” his head snaps up and you quickly realize that was the wrong thing to say. He lunges for you and before anyone can get a shot off he has your back pressed to his chest and his knife to your throat.

“Woah calm down man!” Morgan yells, his panic alerting the rest of the team that this just went south.

“Let her go, Jacob,” Hotch’s words inform the team that he has you, the only female in the room. He doesn’t waver though, ever the calm one in the storm. You can hear the tires of the other SUV squealing to a stop outside. Lucky for you so can Daniels and you use his distraction to slam your eyebrow into his ribs. His grip on you loosens and you’re able to take him down. Morgan takes over, cuffing him as you feel a body slam into yours. JJ throws her arms around your neck and you wrap one arm around her waist, the other cradling her head as you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m okay,” you tell her and she lets out a shaky breath before pulling away from you completely.

“You idiot!” she yells slapping your shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” your hand goes to the place she just smacked, though it didn't hurt much.

“Why would you get so close to him! He could’ve killed you!” She slaps your other shoulder and you groan.

“But he didn’t. I thought I could disarm him, but it's okay now. So can we just agree it was a dumb move and stop hitting me please?” you ask and JJ pulls you into a hug again. You wanna laugh at her conflicting emotions, but you know how scared she is.

“I almost lost you,” she whispers and you sigh.

“You didn’t. I know it was scary, but I’m okay.”

“I could hear the whole thing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise that I’m okay. You didn’t lose me,” you tell her and she nods, pulling away again. The bubble the two of you have been in is popped as you both turn to see the whole team staring at you, Morgan apparently having passed Daniels off to local officers to make sure you were okay.

“How long has this been going on?” Morgan asks and you look to JJ.

“Six months?” you ask her and she nods. You turn back to the team and nod, “yeah, six months.”

“How did we not notice?” Rossi asks and you laugh.

“I was thinking the same thing. Some profilers you are,” JJ teases them but they all seem to be in too much shock to register it.

“So when you went on that rant about not cheating…” Emily trails off and you roll your eyes.

“Did seriously none of you notice how she was looking at me? I thought I was gonna be the next murder victim!” They all laugh and JJ looks at you.

“You ever cheat on me and you will be,” she says simply with her arm wrapped around your waist and a smile on her face.

“How do you say such aggressive things but look so cute doing it?” you ask, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “But I would never cheat on you, my love. I’d have to be an idiot to risk losing you. There’s nobody in the world I’d rather be with.”

“As cute as this is, I’m ready to get out of here,” Morgan teases and you roll your eyes.

“Let’s finish up here and we can talk more on the way home,” Hotch says and you all nod.

“And we know Garcia is gonna want all the details, I wouldn’t mind them either, so drinks when we get back?” Emily offers and you agree.

“Sounds like a plan.”

tag list: (let me know if you want to be added or taken off)

@rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

Criminal Minds tag list: @reidingandwriting

#jj x reader #jj criminal minds #jj fanfic #jj fanfiction #jj fic #jj reader insert #Jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #Jennifer jareau x female!reader #Jennifer Jareau fanfic #Jennifer jareau reader insert #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #almost lost you

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podcastlimbo · 4 years

Text

My honest honest opinion on second citadel season 3

Uhhhh... short answer? I didn’t like it much.

Okay wait before I go on to my long answer I need to say that this is all just my opinion and it’s all subjective. If you liked sc season 3 that’s awesome! I get why you do and I’m glad you enjoyed it!

But I really wasn’t a fan of where they went with it (even from episode 1), and I’m gonna go on a long rambly and repetitive rant about it.

I’m not gonna talk about the way the season ended and the setup for s4 because I haven’t fully formed my opinion about that - to form my opinion means to relisten to the season and i don’t really feel like doing that.

Anyways, these are my unfiltered 2am thoughts about the Rest Of It - maybe I’ll neaten it up later to make it more palatable but for now it’s wordy n messy and you can just. Not read it bc it’ll probably make you mad, or feel free to pick it apart and tell me I’m wrong, or unfollow me (and at least one person has already done so lmao) but like that won’t change the fact that I just wasn’t feeling s3 so uh. That said.

Long answer? I love the second citadel... at least the first two seasons

I love the world building, how the setting is such a unique, deliberate step away from eurocentric fantasy, how refreshing all that is! The Second Citadel (the place) is rich with culture and history from the brief glimpses we get of it (mostly in knight of the crown). Not to mention the monster society, with its own rules (or lack thereof) and environments and personalities.

I love the storytelling, how different mediums are woven into the way each episode is formatted. Rilla has her tape recorder, Damien his prayers, Caroline her letters, and each medium is so well suited to each character, and it truly lets us get a glimpse of what’s going on in their minds, and I find it utterly fascinating how a protagonist of one story could just as easily become an antagonist (or at least, an annoyance) in another

And the characters! Each one so compelling, with their own goals and motivations, their own intriguing backstories and potential.

Most importantly, the way these characters play off of each other is what makes second citadel amazing. Getting to see people with similar experiences but different world views clash (Caroline and Mira), people with fundamentally different beliefs reconcile and meet in the middle (rilla and arum), just, Kabert created so many interesting characters, and watching them bounce off one another is a joy.

And that’s what made season 2 so great for me. The exploration of each character, getting to see their good sides and bad, through either a medium tailored for them, or through interactions with others, as they explored a fascinating world.

The end of season 2 left me so satisfied, but still with so many questions and excitement about what was to come. I wanted to see Talfryn come into his own and step out of his brothers shadow. I wanted to see Damien, Arum and Rilla navigating their new relationship. I wanted to know more of the fate of Rilla’s parents, Damien’s past, the consequences Arum would surely face after defying the monster court. I wanted Marc to finally be recognized by his fellow knights, to watch as Caroline lead the journeymen knights, while learning to trust in others as she was beginning to do. I wanted Angelo continuing to unlearn the implicit biases that had been instilled in him as a result of his upbringing, or more details on Caroline and Quanyii’s relationship. I was also curious!! How would human and monster relations change after the events of the finale? And would we learn more of the past, when humans and monsters lived together in peace?

I was buzzing with excitement for season 3, and then.. it came, it aired, and then it went.

And I felt... meh?

Don’t get me wrong. There were moments that I liked. Some of what I hoped to see did happen (see the above paragraph lmao), getting a glimpse of the western wastes with its own culture a joy. The dynamics between Olala and some of the characters were really fun! And the direction the story took at the end was one I didn’t expect, but left me open to more.

That said,,, everything else about the season just. Didnt gel with me.

Everything I loved about second citadel pretty much wasn’t there??? Aside from Caroline, Angelo and Quanyii, all the characters they spent so much time introducing to us and fleshing out over 2 seasons were just relegated to the side??

I think my main problem with season 3 was that it felt like a completely different show. Characters introduced as part of an ensemble became side characters in (what was supposed to be) their own stories. Character arcs that got set up were dropped, and mysteries/backstories teased were forgotten. Heck, the monster court and senate wasn’t even brought up! The aftermath of the fear bugs attack ont the citadel went unexplored! It’s like nothing in the past season even happened!

And I’m sorry I gotta say this, but the problem is Olala.

I mean. Okay I don’t wanna be super mean- she’s perfectly fine as a character. We root for her, we cry when she cries, and we cheer when she wins the day.

But since all the episodes were centered around her, we didn’t get to see anyone else’s inner worlds. And like okay, yes, they did it for this season of Juno Steel too, where Juno, the previous POV a character for 2 seasons, became a part of an ensemble, and was a side character for many episodes. But this choice worked for Juno and not Second Citadel, because it was a natural progression for his story! We spent 2 seasons exploring Juno’s character, his backstory, his motivations, we saw him come to terms with his family history, grow and change as a person, and by the time he joined the Carte Blanche, we’d gotten to a point with Junos story where we’re okay to step away for a while, and see events through the lens of others.

But that just?? Doesn’t work in second citadel? Because unlike Juno, the characters introduced in s1-2 are virtually unexplored! There’s still so much about their stories we don’t know, and so many ways for them to progress.

But we didn’t get any of that! Stuff established in s1-2 barely got payoff in this season. Characters stagnated, and when previously it was amazing to watch them interact with each other? Having each episode throw different combinations of characters together and seeing how they clashed and came together? Yeah we didn’t get that, it was all the same characters bouncing off of Olala, which is fine at first, but honestly? After the first couple episodes, it got stale.

And remember how before, we would get to see the characters tell their story through a medium suited for them? Well I noticed that the format of this season was a lot moreee audio drama-y (basically a TV show but with no visuals) and while there’s nothing wrong with that, one of SC’s strengths was in using the medium in unique ways, presenting the episodes in unique formats depending on the POV character. And with the exception of a few moments, the season really lacked that!

I know there were episodes in s1-2, like caves of discord and the Janus beast which didnt follow that format, but I think it’s a fan consensus that the episodes that do (moonlit hermit, KOTC lots, lady of the lake) are favourites, because they fully embraced the advantages and limitations those framing devices offered, and were truly perfect for character exploration.

It’s like. Idk. Imagine wolf 359 s3 where the si5 were introduced, and there was like 1-2 episodes of them interacting with the rest of our cast, but then after that the rest of the season just completely focuses on Eiffel and the new characters, and everyone else just disappears n twiddles their thumbs and doesn’t even do anything during the finale. That’s what happened this season, and that’s the kinda weird vibe I’m talking about.

Since I’m already rambling, I might as well just say some more stuff. I was disappointed with the music this season. I can tell Ryan Vibert was trying to figure a way to make SC sound different from Juno, and he was getting there in s1-2! The pieces that stand out now are the soft, acoustic guitar pieces, like Rillas song, or the lone melody line of the guitar in the SC theme. I thought he was getting it with s3e1, when Marc fought the dinosaur while traditional Japanese instruments were playing!! But then for the rest of the season, it was just samey echoey ambient electric guitar, like how it is for Juno. There could’ve been so much potential to give this world its own musical identity, but in the end, that attempt was dropped (at least that’s how it come off to me), just like so many other elements introduced in s1-2!

I’ve gotten this far in my rant, and I haven’t even talked about the story. And the story is. Hmmmmm

Like. It’s completely serviceable? Kabert are good at what they do so the story is a okay I guess? But to be completely honest, the characters and story were so tied together in previous seasons, so much so that in this season, even though the plot was just fine, it stayed just that. Fine. it always felt like there was something missing because the characters were the story, and to have just. So many holes in that department meant that the story itself was fundamentally empty.

Anyways uh. All of this is to say that this all boils down to character. I had my nits to pick with other elements but the fact that Rilla, Arum, Damien, Marc and Talfryn got completely sidelined (Tal most of all) when so much of the previous seasons were spent setting them up- in favour of a completely new storyline featuring new characters and settings when there was still so! Much! Left! Unfinished! From unfulfilled arcs to dynamics left untapped, and creative potential lost, the essence of the show was watered down and it left me with the intense feeling of

Idk. Season 3 felt like a completely different show. I liked s1, I loved a2, but s3 just. isnt second citadel for me. I’ll probably still listen to the next season out of loyalty, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel as passionately about the shows future as I do it’s precious seasons, especially if they continue this way.

Sorry.

#wow thanks for reading all that if you made to to the bottom #I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for a while but I couldn’t sleep last night bc Thoughts so here #I feel like I’m swinging a bat at a hornets nest even though I’m not putting this in the fandom tags ah well #and uhh I guess it’s okay to reblog this??#my posts

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carelessgraces · 3 years

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@clpdwings

Damien,

I’m in California today. It’s been less than a week since we broke up and my friends keep telling me that it’s not going to hurt forever but I think it might. I wanted to lose myself in some bad decisions but all I did was think of you. Fred’s been trying to take care of me, but I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. No matter how much I drink, I am still going to love you, and no matter how much I drink, you are still going to be three thousand miles away from me, in the place that we shared. Just out of curiosity, are you sleeping with me gone? I’m really not. I manage an hour or two at a time and then I’m awake and staring at the ceiling.

I don’t have anything to say. I miss you. I love you. I hate this.

- Astoria

Damien,

Yesterday, I went back into the city to get to our old campus. I’m taking a class on horror this semester, and I wanted to visit special collections and take a look at the Frankenstein manuscript we got on loan a couple of years ago. I couldn’t do it, though. I just sat under our tree and I reread Hamlet for the millionth time. When I got to Hamlet’s letter I cried hard enough that a few people stopped to ask if I was okay. I’m not, for the record. I hate this so much.

I actually mentioned the letter I wrote you in California to my creative writing professor in my fiction workshop. It came out before I could stop myself from saying it. He says I should keep writing. He says that heartbreak turns an amateur into a master, and that I’ll want to remember how I felt, someday. I think he’s full of shit, but he’s the professional. He thinks that it might help to keep a record of the things I’d want to tell you, and that it might soothe the part of me that grieves.

So I guess I’ll keep writing. I think he might be onto something. Journaling always felt weird to me and this doesn’t. I think it’s because there’s a piece of me that feels like you’ll read all of these someday.

In that case: I love you, I love you, I love you, I have loved you practically since we met and I will love you probably for the rest of my life.

- Astoria

Hi Dames,

I was at our favorite coffee place in town and I accidentally ordered our usuals. I sat with yours open next to me while I worked. I didn’t drink it, but if I closed my eyes and breathed in it felt like you were there with me, and I could tell myself that you were just in the bathroom and you would be back soon.

Got an apartment of my own, so that I’m not living out of a hotel. I fucking hate it. It’s one of those luxury apartments that comes pre-furnished and everything’s shades of white and grey. At least my misery is solar-powered, right?

[The next paragraph is scribbled out, but still readable if held to the light.]

Do the pills keep you warm at night or have you found somebody else to do that yet? If you’d asked me a year ago I would have said that you’d never let me walk out that door without putting up a fight, but what the fuck did I know? You’re the life of the fucking party and the life of the party doesn’t go home alone.

I’m thinking about getting a plant. Maybe if I bring something living into the apartment besides me, it’ll give me a reason to like it.

If I stop saying that I love you, it’ll fade eventually, won’t it? I know I’m never going to love anyone else like this and I’ve accepted this but it would be fucking miserable to spend my entire life wanting you this badly when you don’t want me anymore.

- Astoria

Hey,

I’m in urgent care! Nothing too serious, just a bunch of cuts on my foot. You know how every girl we know cuts her hair when she’s fucking miserable? That’s me now. I don’t know if I should be proud or embarrassed that I’m such a cliché. But my hair is cute, if a little crooked, and I was just so furious that I threw the scissors and busted the mirror up. I cut my foot really badly when I left the bathroom, though, and now I think I need stitches. My foot’s wrapped up in a towel and a plastic bag, and walking’s gonna be a bitch for a while.

Turns out my creative writing professor is married to a recovering addict. I’m crying more than usual these days, which I think is to be expected, and I ended up excusing myself from class early to let it out. He waited for me outside the bathroom and told me to come with him, and he brought me to the 24-hour diner just down the road from campus. His wife’s been an addict since she was about seventeen and he helped her get sober.

He told me I did the right thing. He said that sometimes, someone needs a big shock to make them realize that this can’t continue. That’s what I hoped that I was doing. He told me that it’s better not to be around than to be around and making things worse, and I hated hearing it, but he was right. I was making things worse. I was going to get a coffee but he insisted I actually eat something, because he said I “looked like a Victorian ghost.” Which is fair — I haven’t been eating much and it shows.

So there I am, going through a milkshake and a stack of pancakes almost as tall as I am and sharing a plate of fries with this seventy-year-old with a beard that reaches his chest, and he told me stories about how he left his wife when she kept refusing to get help. And he told me about how they got back together and he married her and how they’re celebrating fifty years married next summer. He told me that the only way out is through this, and that I’ve got to remember that this isn’t you, not really. My Damien wouldn’t let me leave without trying to fix things. But my Damien is struggling with something that makes him a little bit less mine.

Addiction is a disease, he said, and I’ve heard it before but the way he said it made so much sense. And you can’t help someone who’s sick if you’re too caught up in yourself to do it. He said there’s no shame in not being able to do it, but that I have to be realistic about it.

I’m so sorry, baby. I’m not cut out for this yet but I will be, hopefully someday soon. I was bleeding all over the bathroom and I kept thinking that I wished you were with me to drive me to urgent care before I realized that right now, you don’t need to be taking care of anyone else. I’m sorry I was so self-absorbed and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, how bad things got. And I know you’ll never read it but I’m sorry for what I wrote last time. I was angry, and you are the last person in the world I should be angry at right now.

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. I hope you’re okay tonight and I’m thinking about you, every second of every day, and missing you more than I know what to do with, and I think someday we’re going to find our way back to each other, and when we do I’ll say it in person: I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

Love, always,

Astoria

Dames,

You looked tired tonight. I wanted to ask about the program but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want you to get self-conscious or anything, and I figured that if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me yourself. I don’t know if I’m supposed to know at all.

Do you have any idea how good it felt to kiss you again, or to have your hands on me again? The only problem is that now I feel empty and about a million times more alone than I did before the party. That bite on my thigh is going to bruise and I keep pressing it like I need the reminder that what happened tonight was real. Is this even healthy for you?

My parents set me up with that guy. He asked where I went and I told him I was fucking my ex in the bathroom. I don’t think they’re ever going to set me up again. I’m expecting some horrified phone calls in the morning. Honestly, he should be grateful — I didn’t stick around and waste his time. I didn’t tell him all of the details. I didn’t tell him that this was the first time I wasn’t either numb or angry or sad in months. I didn’t tell him that this was also the first time I managed to come since the breakup, despite the very expensive vibrator I bought when I moved into the apartment. And I didn’t tell him that afterwards, while you held me up against the door and I held onto you, I buried my face in your shoulder and kept whispering that I love you too quietly for you to hear, and that it’s the only thing I’ve said in months that doesn’t make me feel like a liar.

We probably shouldn’t do this again. I don’t think it’s good for either one of us.

If I don’t write this I’m going to call you and tell you that I love you for real.

- Stori

Happy birthday, baby. I’m drunk and I’m stupid and I love you.

Hi, baby,

Semester’s done! The horror class was great, and so was the postcolonialism class. I’m not worried about them. The fiction workshop was a little rougher, and I ended up changing my project at the last minute. Dr. Harrier insists we have all of our meetings on campus somewhere that they sell food, so he can make sure I get at least one meal in me, and this time it was sandwiches and he kept pointing his straw at me before putting it in his drink.

“Miss Grim,” he kept saying, “you need to write the thing that haunts you, or it will haunt your writing until you do.” And he’s right. Everything I’ve produced for his class is shit.

So I wrote about you. Not really you, and not about addiction, or a breakup, or losing the other half of you, but it’s about you, and me, and it’s about grief. There’s this Doctor Who quote, I think, that keeps floating around the internet: “What is grief if not love persevering?” I thought a lot about that. It’s a horror story, and it’s about loving the thing that kills you. I don’t know if the thing that kills fictional-you is me or the coke and the pills, but there it is. I don’t know if I’m ever going to reread it, or let someone else read it besides Dr. Harrier, but I’m proud of it.

Do you think we’re ever going to find our way back to each other? I mean, really find our way back to each other, and not just fucking in empty bedrooms at our friends’ houses? Every time we’re together you kiss me like you want me to come back home, and then you tell me that this is a mistake and we shouldn’t, and we should play by our own rules. I know this is stupid, but I don’t think that we can even just call it “fucking,” at this point. I think it’s too intimate for that. Is this what people mean when they get precious about calling it “lovemaking”? God, I think I’m that person now.

Doesn’t matter, right this second. What matters is that I somehow love you more than I did when we split and I think maybe there’s something broken in me, because you’re not supposed to love someone more after a breakup, even if you’re fucking around, but at least if I’m broken I know I can still love you, and so long as I can do that maybe I don’t need to be fixed.

Love, always with love,

Astoria

Hi, baby,

Adelaide said that you’re in a program. I think something bad happened but she won’t tell me, even if she looks different lately, and kind of haunted. But I’m proud of you. I’m really, really proud of you.

Would you ever have started treatment if I hadn’t left?

- A

Damien,

I got a job! Three days a week working in one of the admin offices on campus, and it keeps me busy. In the meantime, I keep scribbling ideas for my thesis. Dr. Harrier liked my short story and said that he wants to work with me, so I think we’re going to do something on horror. I think he was onto something, about these letters. Maybe the record is a good thing.

I haven’t been writing as much lately and I don’t know if that’s a sign or not. I see you more, now, and that means that I spend most of my free time trying to remember every detail of the last time we were together and counting down the days until I see you again. I made an appointment for a couple of new tattoos. One on my ribs, one on my collarbone. It’s going to be a bitch of a session but I’d rather do it all at once than split it up.

You wrote the poem from Hamlet’s letter to Ophelia in one of my books. I don’t know when, but I recognized your handwriting and I knew what it said before I read it and it felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. Do you have any idea how good it felt to see that? I haven’t heard you tell me you love me in months and I don’t even know if you do anymore, but this was almost like that. Is it creepy if I put your handwriting on my body? Maybe just a couple of words. Maybe just “I love.” That’s the most important part, anyway.

For what it’s worth I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m never going to want anyone else. I’ve tried. I really have. I’ve had a revolving door of first dates and none of them do anything for me. The thought of someone else’s hands on me makes me sick — even sicker, actually, than the thought of your hands on someone else. I keep hoping you’re going to forget about me and find someone better, who actually deserves you, and that you’ll be happy, and that in ten years we’ll look back on this and laugh. I’ll still be in love with you by then but maybe you’ll be happy with somebody who’s not a fucking coward.

Who knows? Maybe it’ll be me again someday. I keep practicing speeches in traffic or in the shower, any time I have a minute, for all the ways I’d tell you that I love you and I miss you and that I’d rather be fucked up with you than healthy somewhere else. God, I hope it’s me. I hope you forget about me and find someone better but I hope so much more that you’re going to knock on my door one night and tell me that you want me to come back home.

I love you so much. I know — some writer I am. But I don’t think the words exist for how much I love you or how badly I miss you.

Yours,

Astoria

#clpdwings #clpdwings ( damien westwood )#v. in my defense i have none for never leaving well enough alone. ( modern | writer )#tw: addiction #(literally dreamed abt this so here you go)

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smooshjames · 4 years

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forget you not (epilogue)

‘cause we’ve come, we’ve come so far, oh, baby (or: a second chance)

word count: 4k

a/n: i finally got my butt in gear and wrote the epilogue of forget you not! i still don’t think i’m 100% happy with how it came out, but if i edit / re-write it any more my head will explode. a reminder that i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned in this story (they all belong to little mix). and here are the links to this chapter’s songs: x, x, x. while we’re on the topic of links, here’s one to my ko-fi in case you want to buy me a coffee. no pressure if you can’t (or just don’t want to), i’m just glad you guys take the time to read my work. i hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the overwhelming support, it means the world to me <3

warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it angst (i couldn’t help myself), i think that’s it ?? this is just a lot of fluff and the happy ending we deserve

previous parts: one, two, three, four, five

You called exactly one week later.

It was around six o’clock (nine o’clock for you, Shayne noted). He had just gotten home from work and was contemplating what to have for dinner when his phone started buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket disinterestedly, figuring it was probably Damien or his mom. When he saw your name on his phone screen, however, his heart nearly stopped beating.

He took a deep breath and answered the call.

“Hey,” he said. He sounded mildly out of breath and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t notice. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d call,” you said. Your voice was shaky, your tone unsure. You were putting emphasis on all the wrong syllables. Shayne could picture you in his head; you on your couch in your nice New York apartment, dressed in something comfortable, a vision of natural beauty.

Shayne didn’t reply, just silently willed you to continue. He sat down on the couch.

“Um… it was fun. The sex, I mean.” There was a long pause. Shayne held his breath. “I would… next time one of us is in town, I think it would be good to hang out again. Maybe we can get to know each other again.” Another long pause. “Get to know each other like hanging out and talking, I mean, not like… not like wink-wink getting to know each other, not that I don’t want to have sex with you again, I just…” You stopped again, and he could practically see the grimace on your face. “Jesus, okay. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Shayne grinned so wide he thought his face might get stuck that way.

“Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Another pause, one which could have lasted three seconds or three years.

“I’m really glad we got to see each other again,” he said. He was careful to keep his tone light, decidedly avoiding any words that might send the I still love you vibe. He didn’t want to push the boat out on another chance with you too soon, but absence absolutely makes the heart grow fonder. There was a part of him that already had the color scheme for your wedding planned, a part of him that felt sure you’d give him a second chance. After all, you’d spent the night together, and now you were calling him back. That had to mean something, right?

But he knew, rationally, that you were still smarting from what had happened all those years ago, and he knew that you had every right to be. He figured you would want to take things slow.

And then, before his brain could really think about it, his mouth said: “I want… I really want to try again, if you… if you want to. I think we could do things right this time.”

So much for taking things slow.

There was another long silence. Shayne was almost certain his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“I want to try again, too,” you said. Shayne felt his shoulder sag in relief. “I’ve missed you a lot. But, um, it’s late here and I worked all day. I should get ready for bed. I’ll have Michelle look at my schedule tomorrow and we can figure out a good time for me to fly back out there, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Shayne.”

The line went dead. Shayne sat back on his couch and stared up at his ceiling in wonder. A second chance. He couldn’t fucking believe it.

All he had to do now was get it right this time.

***

A month passed, and then two, and then six. You and Shayne flew from New York to LA and back more times than you could count. You squeezed texting, calling, and facetiming into every spare second. Shayne made himself endlessly available to you, and you did the same for him. You were constantly in trouble with Michelle for getting distracted during interviews and meetings and recording sessions. Rumors circulated that there was a man in your life, which, for a while, you didn’t confirm or deny.

You knew that you’d have to go public eventually, something you discussed with Shayne early on in your second attempt. You were both far more in the public eye now than you’d been five years ago, which meant people would put pieces together sooner than you wanted them to. Finally, after two months, the two of you decided it was time to call it official. Instagram posts went up, fans lost their minds, the comments of your Smosh video were dominated almost exclusively with references to you and Shayne.

At the four-month mark, you discussed moving out to LA permanently. You’d still be spending a lot of time apart while the band toured, but you would at least be able to go home to him full-time in between the months on the road.

Carly asked if it felt a little soon, and you told her it didn’t. If your first attempt at a relationship with Shayne had been more-or-less a strong one (save for the end), this attempt was iron-clad. Shayne had matured more than you ever could’ve hoped for. The years apart made him wiser, more willing to confront his feelings and his issues. And in your five years of being single, you had found something infinitely more valuable than a shiny new relationship: self-worth. You knew what you deserved, and a happy, loving relationship was one of those things. You no longer lived in fear of Shayne running off at the first sign of someone better than you. You were far more willing to fight for yourself and for your relationship.

You spent a couple of months deliberating whether you’d move to LA. The time it took you to think was in part caused by some hesitation, but more than anything caused by the fact that the band was recording a new album. You couldn’t think about much of anything besides choruses and hooks and beats.

Your hang-ups about the move were more practical than anything; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to move, it was that cross-country moves were infamously stressful and problem-filled. Not to mention, the rest of the band still lived in New York, which might cause professional complications (and would most certainly cause personal heartache; you weren’t necessarily ecstatic about living almost 3,000 miles from your best friends).

You finally made the decision during a late-night, insomnia-induced facetime call. You called Shayne at four in the morning one night after tossing and turning for hours. He picked up on the third ring, and you could tell immediately that he had been asleep; his surroundings were completely blacked out, his face only visible from the light of his phone screen. He was squinting at the screen, face scrunched up in a way that made your heart swell with the urge to kiss him, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. And when he spoke, his voice was gruff with disuse.

“Hey,” he said. He didn’t seem the slightest bit upset at being woken up, but there was definite concern on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m sorry to wake you. I can’t sleep. I wanted to see you.”

If you lived in LA, whispered the ever-present voice in the back of your mind, you wouldn’t have to call him to see him. If you lived in LA, you’d be fast asleep in his arms right now.

Shayne hummed sympathetically and you heard the blankets rustling as he rolled over on his back. The angle was about as unflattering as it could have possibly been, but you didn’t care. In fact, you loved him all the more for it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. His words were just slightly slurred, like his tongue was still heavy from sleep. “What’s keeping you awake?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “I don’t really know,” you replied. “A lot of things, I guess. It’s been a couple of weeks since we saw each other last, so I’ve been trying to find a good time to fly out there, but I’m completely booked for the next few months. The new album has been kicking our asses and we’re nowhere near where we need to be if we’re gonna make the deadline, so we’ve been working all hours, which means everyone’s sleep schedules are completely fucked. I’m pretty sure Alexis and Piper are still at the studio right now.”

He hummed low in his throat again, nodding slowly. There was a moment where he seemed to be debating which part of your speech to address first. “Well, don’t worry too much about flying out. You know I love seeing you in person, but I don’t want making time for me to be too stressful for you. I’m perfectly content with long-distance if that’s what you need to do.”

You smiled despite yourself. Shayne had established this rule early-on; you never needed to worry about going to see him if going to see him would jeopardize your work or your personal wellbeing. If you couldn’t handle the stress of a flight across the country, he would either come to you or you’d just make texting and calling work until one of you could get on a plane.

But in this instance (and in every other instance), you didn’t want to see him in person just so that he would be satisfied. You wanted to see him in person because seeing him in person was infinitely better than seeing him through the phone. You wanted to be there when he got home from work, to kiss him goodnight and good morning, to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m gonna move out there,” you said, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your tone.

“What?” he asked. The camera shook for a moment and you imagined he was sitting up in bed. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow and then I’ll call you and we can figure out the logistics. I need to be with you, Shayne. I think now’s as good a time as there’ll ever be.”

***

It took a month of you living together for Shayne to track down the old ring. He’d kept it all these years, though he could never quite put a finger on why. At least, until now.

As he rifled through his closet searching for the little blue box, he knew exactly why he’d kept it. For five years, he’d hoped against hope that you would come back to him. He’d hoped that despite it all, you could still be soulmates, just like he’d known you were before he went and fucked it up.

He found the box. It was a little dusty, but the ring inside was preserved perfectly. He moved it from the bottom of his closet to the back corner of his sock drawer, which felt like a more appropriate hiding place for a ring that was no longer going unused (hopefully).

You were currently back in New York to finish recording the new album, and then you would begin tour rehearsals in LA. The reasons for that were threefold; first, there was a choreographer based in LA that you desperately wanted to work with; second, the tour would kick off in LA, so it made sense to do the rehearsals in the place you would start; and third, you had convinced the rest of the band to do it in LA so that you could be close to Shayne. They, being your best friends and considering the other two reasons, had agreed happily. The proximity was good for Shayne, not only because it meant he got to spend time with you, but because it meant he could consult Carly. He figured that if anyone would know if you were ready to marry him, it would be her.

A week or so into tour rehearsals, the two of you hosted a dinner party at your apartment. You invited the Smosh Squad, the band, and a few other mutual friends. It was a challenge fitting everyone into the small space, but you made it work.

Shayne managed to find Carly after dinner was over and everyone had broken up to mingle. You were occupied with Olivia, Courtney, and Piper, and Carly was only talking to Damien, so Shayne figured it was his golden opportunity.

He sidled up to Carly and Damien and shot Damien a Hey man, you know what I’m about to do look (Damien was well aware of his plans, of course; Shayne had texted him the very second marriage popped into his head). Damien nodded.

“Hey, Carly,” Shayne said. She gave him a barely-civil look and took a sip of her drink. She still didn’t entirely trust him, which Shayne couldn’t blame her for; the way he understood it, she had been the one to pick up the pieces of the mess he made. He knew she was only playing nice with him for your sake. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure,” she replied. She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious, even as she gestured for him to begin walking. “Lead the way.”

Shayne beckoned her into the bedroom, which was the only place not occupied by dinner guests, and rifled around in his sock drawer until he found the ring. He turned and presented it to Carly.

She choked on her drink.

“You’re going to propose?” she asked, volume just lower than a shout, obviously incredulous. Shayne shushed her frantically and glanced over to the open archway into the living room, thoroughly regretting not closing the door and praying to God that no one had heard. “Sorry, I just… Jesus, okay.” And then, in a much more reasonable tone of voice: “You’re going to propose?”

“I’m thinking about proposing,” Shayne corrected her. He set the ring back in his sock drawer. “I haven’t made my mind up yet. I don’t want to ask and freak her out. I figured you might know her thoughts on it.”

Carly narrowed her eyes at him, appraising. Shayne got the disturbing feeling that she could see straight into his soul; it was like she was looking through him, not at him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Y/N is my best friend,” Carly said after a few seconds. Shayne nodded his understanding but didn’t dare speak. “After you destroyed her -- and you did destroy her, and it was your fault, even as much as she’s tried time and time again to convince me otherwise -- I was there for her. I have seen her at her lowest, most desperate points, and I have seen her at her most joyful. She is my best friend. She is my sister.

“All this to say, Shayne, that if you hurt her again, I can and will -- in fact, I am obligated to -- make your death look like an accident.”

Shayne nodded again, struck speechless. He was reminded of a conversation he’d had with you some time ago: he’d mentioned that he thought Carly didn’t like him, and you had conceded that she didn’t. But, you’d said, don’t worry too much. She’s all bark and no bite, and she just cares. She’ll come around to you.

As she stood in front of him now, fire in her eyes, tension in her shoulders, chin held high, Shayne was absolutely convinced that this woman was 100% bite. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. He was somehow more intimidated by Carly than he had been by your family.

“I love her, too,” he said. “That’s one thing we have in common. I know that I hurt her, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. I should’ve done things so much differently five years ago, I know that, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But by some miracle, she’s given me a second chance, and I’m not gonna fuck it up this time. I want to marry her with everything I have, Carly. I need to know that she’ll say yes.”

There was another silent moment as Carly appraised him. She glanced over at the sock drawer, where the ring was safely tucked away, and then back to him. “Okay,” she said. Shayne’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

You rehearsed for two months before the first concert of the new tour. In the week leading up to it, you were riddled with nerves; you were exhausted from long rehearsals and yet you couldn’t sleep, you had to force yourself to eat, you had dreams of getting on stage and forgetting all your choreography, or, worse, the lyrics to your own songs.

Shayne did his best to help you. He stayed up with you when you were having insomnia, even if his work suffered for it the following day, and he brought you food sometimes when rehearsals ran past your allotted lunch or dinner break. He was a godsend.

Finally, the big day arrived; it was the opening night of your tour. The new album had been out for a couple of weeks and it was doing well so far. The concert hall was slightly bigger than the one you’d performed at last time you were in LA. But sitting in your dressing room with shaking hands, about to attend the pre-show meet and greet, the nervous churning in your gut felt eerily similar to the way it felt eight months prior.

And, like eight months prior, Carly came to collect you. You walked with her down the hallway and to the meet and greet room, which had an almost identical setup; white backdrop and four stools on one side, camera equipment and a friendly man named Rob on the other.

You and the rest of the band gave Michelle the all-clear to let guests in, and the meet and greet began.

It was around the halfway mark when the door opened and you heard familiar voices walking in. Your face split into a wide grin as Noah, Keith, Olivia, Courtney, Damien, Ian, and Shayne rounded the backdrop. All of you had grown pretty close over the last few months, between you living with Shayne and occasionally visiting him at work. You had actually been in talks with Ian to appear on a SmoshCast once the tour was over.

Hugs were exchanged between the band and all your friends. You greeted Shayne with a kiss on the cheek, and Courtney with the complicated secret handshake you two had been working on.

The entire massive group took a photo together, and then your adoring fans left to find their seats. Your heart felt lighter for having seen them, and knowing that they would be in the audience worked wonders to calm your nerves. It was the exact opposite effect of your last meet and greet experience with Shayne.

The meet and greet ended, mic check passed, and the beginning of the concert approached. You took a deep breath. You did your pre-show ritual. You got into places. The concert began.

The first half of the show went off without a hitch. The fans were obviously loving it, and you (miraculously) remembered everything you were supposed to do. You were constantly glancing back at Shayne and your friends, both for comfort and to make sure they were enjoying themselves. Occasionally, you’d make eye contact with one of them and they’d flash you enthusiastic thumbs-ups. Every time you looked at Shayne, without fail, he was looking back at you, which made your heart beat just that much faster.

As you were introducing Your Love, though, you glanced over and saw that Shayne was no longer sitting with the group. You frowned but figured he had gone to the bathroom. Damien flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up from his seat next to Shayne’s.

The song began and you didn’t have time to think about anything else as you started to sing: “Luxurious lovin’ like Egyptian cotton, if I ain’t got nothing, least I got you.”

This particular song hadn’t been written with Shayne in mind, but it was hard to think of anything else as you sang the lovey-dovey lyrics. Every time you glanced over at his seat, though, he was still gone. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you knew, but you were somewhat saddened by the fact that you couldn’t serenade him (or at least make eye contact with him) while you sang.

Alexis had the second verse. You were swaying to the beat and moving across the stage to your mark when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You almost ignored it and kept moving; you were in show mode, so you chalked it up at first to a backup dancer brushing against you or something of the sort. But then you took in your surroundings and stopped in your tracks.

Alexis was still singing, but she and the rest of the band had turned their eyes to you. In fact, everyone on stage was looking at you. The audience was screaming, and you thought you heard your name a few times, but it was impossible to make anything out, and a screaming audience at a concert wasn’t exactly unusual. Your heart still plummeted, though, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong. You made eye contact with Piper, standing off to your right, and she nodded encouragingly and motioned toward you as if to say turn around.

You did, and what you saw almost made you drop your mic. Your jaw practically hit the floor.

There, on one knee in front of you, was Shayne. He was holding a little blue box, and inside the box was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. He was smiling up at you, hope and adoration in his eyes. As your band-mates launched into the second chorus of the song, you nodded enthusiastically and allowed Shayne to put the ring on your finger. The audience was going insane. He pulled you into a tight hug.

“I promise I’m gonna get it right this time. I love you so much,” he said. You nodded against him. When he pulled back, he laughed softly and reached up to wipe his thumb over your cheek; you realized with a start that you were crying. “Happy tears?” he asked, just loudly enough that you could make it out over the noise.

You nodded and leaned in to kiss him. You weren’t normally big on PDA, and you were pretty sure kissing in front of a concert hall full of people definitely counted as PDA, but you figured you could make an exception just this once. When you pulled away and brought the mic back up to your mouth to sing, you kept one arm around his shoulders and hardly took your eyes off him. You could feel yourself missing your choreography, but you didn’t care. Your world had narrowed to just the two of you. Shayne, the love of your life, your fiancé, standing next to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen, looking at you like you were his everything.

You finished the song and kissed Shayne again before he had to get offstage. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’ll see you after the show. Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”

And then he went backstage. A minute later, you saw him return to his seat in the audience, where he was almost immediately engulfed in a patented Damien Bear Hug. You smiled at your friends and then turned back to the audience. They had only marginally quieted down since the end of the song. You brought the mic to your mouth. “I’m engaged, ya’ll!”

A fresh round of cheering erupted and your band-mates rushed over to wrap you in a group hug. You felt another few tears spill over and wiped them away. You’d only felt joy like this a handful of times, and it more than made up for all the sadness Shayne had caused you.

You knew, as you launched into Nothing Else Matters, that this was the beginning of a long, happy future. Your life with Shayne would, of course, have its ups and downs, but after everything, you knew this for sure: with him by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way. And he was more than worth it.

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Nine

A/N: Trigger warnings for MILD physical assault in this chapter!

Wow. So much has happened in my life since I last uploaded a chapter, I don't know where to begin...thank you all for waiting for this next chapter. It's a little off-the-walls and I didn't expect it to happen this way, but considering what happened in my life recently I honestly just couldn't continue the way I was currently going with the story without hurting both the characters and myself. Thank you for being so patient waiting!

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

They made their way to the ballroom quickly and Logan was waiting there, hands clasped in front of him as he stared expectantly at the entrance. “There you two are,” Logan said. “I certainly hope that the two of you are ready to dance, because I think it’s high time we move on from the waltz to some more casual moves for after your first dance.”

“Oh, joy,” Roman said sarcastically. “You want to teach me more ways to step on people’s toes?”

Logan’s lips twitched upward in the vague sense of a smile. “Come now, Roman, you’ve done well with the waltz, surely you can learn a few basic steps.”

“I know how to waltz and to Cha-Cha Slide, and that’s it,” Roman said, completely deadpan.

Damien muffled a howl of laughter next to Roman and Roman felt himself grin, just a little bit.

Logan wasn’t nearly as amused as Damien was. “Roman, you’re learning to dance, like it or not,” Logan warned.

“Oh, so you’re threatening me now? That’s what’s going on?” Roman asked. “You’re gonna threaten me until I dance with you? Then fine, pretty boy, let’s dance. Don’t expect Damien to like it.”

Logan strode forward and swept Roman away from Damien with a small smile. “He doesn’t have to like it. He just has to know I have the power to fail his classes if I so wish.”

“That’s blackmail!” Damien snapped. “Give me back my fiancé!”

Logan glanced over his shoulder at Damien and calmly said, “No.” When he turned back to Roman, he said, “Okay, so I think we should go over the specifics of swing dancing...”

Before he could say anymore, Logan was ripped away from Roman by Damien, who had his teeth bared in a growl. “No. My fiancé. Not yours. Mine.”

Roman laughed out loud at that. “Wow, Logan, I’ve never seen someone reduce Damien to two word sentences like that!”

Logan adjusted his glasses and stared unamused at Damien. “You two still have to learn to dance, and you’ll step all over each other in more complicated steps if you do not have an expert teaching you each step separately.”

“You’re not dancing with my fiancé,” Damien repeated, scowl firm on his face.

“And why not?” Logan asked. “I’m not trying to steal him from you, Damien.”

Roman glanced over Logan’s shoulder and saw his mother enter the room. But before he could say anything, let alone formulate a warning to the others, Damien exclaimed, “It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to steal him, all that matters is if you succeed or not!”

“I sincerely hope you’re not planning a kidnapping, young man,” his mother scolded Damien.

Damien turned to Roman’s mother, a retort clearly threatening to break loose, and with it, bring hell. Before Roman could think, he had his arms draped over Damien’s shoulders and was pulling him down until they were millimeters from kissing, their breath intermingling in the air. “Don’t do it,” he murmured. “She’s not worth it.”

“Someone has to,” Damien shot back. “She doesn’t run this kingdom. My family does.”

“Let that someone be me,” Roman said.

“My love, if I see her snap at you, I may just go entirely feral,” Damien warned. “Dinner after you left was not pleasant while I was there. And she’s making me inch ever closer to my wit’s end.”

Roman sighed and backed up, shoving Damien backwards and saying, “I can handle myself, you realize,” at a normal volume.

“I’m not saying you can’t,” Damien said.

“Well, you’re acting like Logan is going to secretly kidnap me from the castle and run off to marry me in your stead, and you’re acting like my mother is going to destroy me. So you not saying that I can’t handle myself isn’t getting you very far,” Roman said.

“My love...” Damien blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to see you hurt, and it would kill me to see you run off with someone else.”

“I already hurt,” Roman said with a small shrug. “And why would I run off with someone else?”

“Because I’m just...me,” Damien said, sounding a little lost as to why Roman was asking. “And I can’t think of anyone who would want me as the disaster I am.”

“I can,” Roman said simply.

“Who?”

“Me,” Roman said, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. “I love you whether you’re a disaster or not. And I’m not leaving you for anyone. So you don’t have to worry about me running off.”

“I still don’t want to see you hurt,” Damien insisted.

“That doesn’t mean that you can just fight my mother whenever you feel like it,” Roman said. “That’s my job.”

His mother scoffed.

Roman turned to her. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job too, right, Mother?”

“Your ‘job’ is to respect me, young lady, and you’ve been doing terrible work at it.”

Roman, not for the first time, but possibly for the last, felt something inside him snap. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

“Whatever?” his mother repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Roman said, widening his eyes and putting on an innocent expression. “What, I thought you knew that I didn’t care for your rules! I can’t respect you when you’ve been doing such a terrible job at respecting me and my boundaries. Respect is a two-way street, no matter the parties. I stand by that no matter who I’m presenting as. Roman or Veronica.”

His mother snarled and Roman stood his ground as she approached him. Damien stood next to Roman, not shielding him but making it known he wasn’t alone in this. A fact which Roman appreciated the more it looked like his mother might slap him. Damien must have been thinking similar, because he warned, “You lay one hand on Roman, and you won’t be staying to see the wedding.”

“I would never lay a hand on my dau—”

“—Son,” Damien warned softly. “Roman is your son, remember? He is trying to find out who he is, and part of that process involves you calling him his proper name, the one he chose, and using the gender he identifies as when referring to him.”

His mother got a set in her jaw that Roman recognized, and he barely stepped in front of Damien a second before his mother’s fist raised towards Damien’s jaw, and connected with Roman instead. Roman staggered backwards into Damien’s chest, and underneath all the overwhelming panic Roman felt he could hear a voice holler, “DIANA!” from the doorway.

“Oh my god,” Damien murmured. “Oh. My god. Roman, are you okay?!”

Roman couldn’t respond. His cheek throbbed and his chest was too tight and he couldn’t breathe because his mother just hit him, hard, and—

“Roman, my love, breathe with me, can you do that?” Damien asked, positioning one of Roman’s hands on his chest. “I’m going to breathe in and I want you to do that with me, okay? Breathe in now...”

Roman tried to follow the instructions, but his breath was shuddery and wrong and not at all like what Damien was doing. Damien was quietly encouraging him nonetheless, saying he was doing a good job and smiling with tears in his eyes.

There was shouting overhead, and Logan seemed to be recording with his phone as the Queen shouted at Roman’s mother and Roman’s mother screeched back. The yelling was not helping Roman’s breathing much, but feeling Damien’s chest move underneath his hand was something to focus on when he couldn’t hear Damien’s voice over the awful din.

The screaming continued, louder now, and there were people gawking in the room, most of them guards. A few of the guards were actually moving, grabbing onto his mother who was thrashing violently. “You can’t do this!” she howled. “You can’t do this!”

“I can and I will!” the Queen grit out. “You tried to assault my son and in the process injured your own! You are far from welcome here! If you so much as think about returning, I will have you imprisoned!”

“Veronica, get up, you’re leaving with me!” his mother yelled.

Roman sat there, still as a statue, panic somehow getting even more pronounced with that announcement.

“Veronica, get up!” his mother bellowed.

“All due respect, Your Majesty, which means no respect at all, fuck off,” Damien said. “Roman isn’t going anywhere. He and I are going to be married no matter what you say. He, as a man, will be marrying me, another man. Your son is transgender and gay, bitch! And he’s never going back with you, not if anyone in this castle has a say in it! Get lost!”

And with that proclamation, the guards led Roman’s mother out as Damien gave her double birds. Roman’s breathing slowed marginally, and everyone left in the room loosely surrounded him, not trapping him in but keeping an eye on him and reminding him that they were there. “Logan, did you get everything?” the Queen asked.

“Right down to Damien flipping her off,” Logan said calmly.

“Post it on the official Twitter,” the Queen said. “I want everyone to know that she is no longer welcome in this kingdom.”

“With pleasure, Your Majesty,” Logan said, starting to tap at his phone.

“They’re going to have a PR nightmare at home,” Damien said with an all-too-pleased grin.

Roman laughed hysterically and Damien’s attention was instantly on him again. “Sorry, Roman. Are you okay?”

“She’s gone,” Roman breathed. “I can’t believe the bitch is gone.”

“She can never hurt you again,” Damien promised.

Roman nodded, swallowing. “I don’t feel too good...”

“Do you need water? Something to eat? Somewhere to lie down?” Damien asked.

“Yeah,” Roman said dazedly.

“To which?”

“What?” Roman asked.

Damien blinked. “I think it’s high time I showed you to my bedroom, my love,” he said. “You could clearly use the rest. We can worry about dance practice tomorrow.”

“Mm...okay,” Roman sighed.

The rest of the conversation went over his head. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Damien. Highly concerned.

“It may take time and a lot of tears, dearheart, but I do believe he’ll recover.” The Queen.

“I just uploaded the video. It already has twenty hits.” Logan.

“I’m gonna look it up the second I get my hands on my laptop. I want to see that bitch suffer.” Damien.

The room grew quiet. Roman belatedly realized that he whimpered and was starting to tear up.

“Too soon?”

“Probably, dearheart.”

“Take him to your room, Damien. Focus on him. Don’t worry about anything else,” Logan said.

Damien nodded and picked Roman up bridal style. “I know this is usually reserved for after the wedding, my love, I hope you’ll forgive me,” Damien said.

Roman giggled inanely. Damien kissed Roman’s forehead, carried him out of the ballroom, through the halls, and up to his room, where Damien gently placed him on the bed.

And between the exhaustion and the adrenaline and the shock, Roman passed out in minutes.

Murmuring. A quiet murmuring sounding slightly tinny stirred Roman from his slumber. He opened his eyes, finding cool green walls and a canopy overhead. He had no idea where he was. He sat up in bed to find Damien, shirtless, next to him. Roman squeaked. “Please tell me I didn’t blackout during the marriage ceremony,” he blurted.

Damien laughed. “You didn’t blackout during the marriage ceremony,” he said, grinning. “You did, however, sleep well into midmorning the day after we kicked your mother out of the kingdom.”

Roman blinked, before last night came back to him in startling clarity. “Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Indeed,” Damien said. “Your family is about to hold a press conference about the video Logan posted last night. It went viral in just under an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I wanna see this for myself,” Roman said, scooching closer to Damien and eyeing the laptop on his lap.

Damien turned up the volume and the two of them watched as his mother, his father, and Remus came into view of the cameras. “This live?” Roman asked.

Damien hummed confirmation.

As the three of them sat down, Remus looked supremely uncomfortable, his father looked pained, and his mother looked pale as a ghost. There was no noise but the clicking of cameras for a solid fifteen seconds. Then, Remus blurted, “I do not agree with my mother’s actions whatsoever! It was despicable, reprehensible, and I’m frankly appalled at her behavior!”

The room exploded into a clamoring of reporters as their father snapped at Remus and his mother sat there, thoroughly shocked. “Remus, behave yourself! The plan was—”

“—Fuck your plans!” Remus exclaimed. “There is no excuse for my mother hitting my baby brother! I don’t care how large or short the difference between us being born is, you’re my baby brother, Roman, and I know you’re watching, and I want you to know I fully hate our parents too!”

Roman’s heart swelled with affection and Damien looked pleased. “Your brother is quite the colorful character,” Damien said.

“Oh, yeah,” Roman agreed. “He’s the best. And the worst. And there is no in between.”

Damien snorted as the pandemonium in the room quieted down. Remus pointed at one reporter. “Yes, you,” he said.

“Where is the other prince at this time?” she asked.

“I got a text from His Highness Damien. He has been taking care of Roman since the incident occurred. The two of them have gotten quite friendly and wish to continue with the marriage that our parents arranged for him,” Remus said candidly.

“Thank you for texting him,” Roman said.

“Of course,” Damien said. “I texted him right before he saw the video and he immediately peppered me with questions. I believe I might have been the one to talk him out of homicide.”

“Mm. Next time that happens wake me up so I can stop you,” Roman said idly.

Damien snickered as Remus pointed to another reporter. “Prince Remus, what do you intend to do about public outcry over your mother’s behavior?”

Remus got a Cheshire Cat smile and he purred, “I thought you’d never ask,” as he leaned forward. “Seeing as my mother stands by her behavior and calls the fact that she hit my brother an ‘unfortunate accident’ and my father has been doing damage control all night, it’s become clear to me that neither of them are exactly remorseful of their actions. Now, I’m not an idiot. I know the political climate in our country. And for the safety of my parents, as well as the safety of my brother, and whatever scraps of sanity I have left, I am proposing to Parliament a plan later today: force my parents to retire. I’m of legal age to be King, and I have already thought through who my advisors would be. This place needs an overhaul if the state of everything right now is anything to go by, and I am fully willing to put in the work and finish it.”

Their parents were looking murderous, but the second they started to object the reporters shouted them down. Roman pulled out his phone and dialed Remus. Remus leapt to his feet and yelled, “Everybody shut up a minute!” he answered. “Roman?”

“Put me on speaker?” Roman requested.

“Yeah, sure, if you’re ready for all the news stations in the world to hear you,” Remus said.

“I’m ready,” Roman said.

Remus pressed a button and Roman said, “To everyone in the press conference and everyone who’s watching at home, I’m all right.” It was weird hearing his voice echo through the computer, but he put that out of his mind and continued. “My parents have always been homophobic and transphobic, they’ve just been excellent at hiding it. I’m definitely going to continue marrying Damien, and everyone who was invited to that wedding is still invited, unless, of course, you are my parents or anyone who sides with my parents. Remus, thank you for standing up for me. I think you’d be a great King and I will happily come to your coronation. And, before I forget, news stations, turn on your censors! Fuck you, Remus, you’re only two minutes older than me!”

Remus laughed and a murmur went up among the reporters. “Thanks for that, Roman, that actually makes me feel a lot better. Of course, now that people know you’re conscious and have your phone, they’ll be trying to contact you.”

Roman paused. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Fuuuuck,” he groaned.

“That’s not very prince-like behavior,” Remus teased.

“Says the man who cussed out our parents on TV,” Roman snapped. “I’m done talking to you and the press folks. Talk after the conference.”

“Yep, later, bro,” Remus confirmed, and they hung up at the same time. Remus looked back out at the sea of reporters. “Any other questions?” he asked with a shark-like grin.

A clamor went up among the crowd and Damien turned the video on mute. “So, I’m happy you still want to go through with the wedding,” Damien said. “I was worried I was speaking out of turn when talking to Remus.”

“No, you’re good,” Roman said.

Damien let out a shaky breath. “Is it okay if I tell you my vows now? You don’t have to tell me yours, but I want to tell you mine.”

Roman considered. “Give me bullet points,” he said. “I want the actual vows to be a surprise, but you can give me bullet points.”

“Okay...” Damien hummed. “Love. Trust. Hope. That vague enough?”

“That’s perfect,” Roman said with a grin.

Damien rolled his eyes and unmuted the press conference and the two watched the scene unfold with Roman’s parents getting more and more mutinous the more Remus talked, but every time they tried to say something, Remus would either blackmail them into silence or the reporters would drown them out. When the conference was over, Remus walked out with his head held high and the guards escorted their parents out. The reporters were tossing around words like “unprecedented,” “inconceivable,” and “ground-breaking,” and one even went so far as to utter the word “coup.” Roman just snuggled into Damien’s side, content to let emails go left unread for a while, and he silenced his phone. Right now, he just wanted to rest with his fiancé right there with him.

Tag List: @escalatingtoofast@why-should-i-tell-youu2@determination-saved@voidvirgil@redisawerewolf23@lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@cktkat@im-actually-ok

#sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Umbrella Girl (part 7 - final part)

What happened to Cillian's house?

Warnings - mentions of baby loss / angst / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @elenavampire21 @janelongxox @noctvrnalmoth

Cillian had flown home on the next flight following Orla's call, you'd stayed home to allow him time with his family, giving him the space he needed. He hadn't called for nearly a week, and you hadn't disturbed him either, when finally your phone rang.

"Cill? Are you okay?"

"The police are still investigating. It certainly looks like arson, but they can't say one way or the other yet. Y/n, I should've been at home last week, and she knew that! That schedule was planned for months in advance, I'd have been burned alive in that house!" You both knew this, but saying it out loud somehow made it more terrifying. "Does she know where you live y/n?" You paused to think back, but no, she had no idea. The address on your records was private, she wouldn't have access to that under data protection laws.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at Orla's, I'm staying here until the house is safe for me to go back to. It's a mess y/n... A complete wreck.." his voice was cracking, breaking your heart. You were desperate to hold him, but he was hundreds of miles away.

"I miss you so much... I so want to be there with you..."

"Is Emily at school?"

"Yes. She breaks up today for half term though."

"Good, I thought I'd got the dates right. I've booked you tickets for the ferry tomorrow morning, I know Emily is scared of flying.. come out here to me? I need you.."

You were stunned into silence.

"Is that okay?"

"Shut up Murphy! That's the best news I've had this week... Yes! We'll be there!"

"Thank god, thought I'd scared you off for a second!"

"You're an idiot sometimes you know that?" You laughed. "I'll see you Saturday morning, yeah?"

You arrived at the docks in Dublin just after midday, Emily launching herself into Cillian's arms as he swooped her up and kissed her cheek. He welcomed you into the embrace, kissing your lips and resting his forehead against yours. A younger lady approached you, judging by her blue eyes you assumed this was Cillian's sister, Orla.

"It's so good to finally meet you, he's told me so much about you! Here, let me help with those bags." She took your suitcase and pulled it along with you to her car. You arm linked with Cillians left, his right carrying Emily who was telling him everything about the ferry ride over and how much she enjoyed it.

"I've got another surprise for you waiting at Orla's, Em," he whispered loud enough for you to hear.

"Cill...." He shushed you playfully with his eyes. You hated him spending his money on either of you - you didn't want people to think that was all you wanted...

Getting into Orla's house just outside the city, she took your bag up to Cillian's room and led you all through to the dining room. A man walked in holding a wriggling toddler.

"This is my brother in law, Damien, and my nephew Leo. This," he introduced you, "is y/n." Damien shook your hand and you cooed over Leo, giggling away in his father's arms. Emily tugged on Cillian's shirt impatiently, generating a scowl from you.

"Emily we've just walked through the door - you need to wait!"

"Its okay, I'll take her." Cillian took her hand and led her into a playroom next to the kitchen area. You heard her squeal and walked through to see the biggest dolls house you'd ever seen, it was huge - fully kitted out with furniture and a family of 4.. it was breathtaking.

"Cillian... I can't..." You mumbled.

"It isn't for you, it's for her!" He laughed, and smiled watching Emily begin to place the furniture in the house and set her dolls up for what looked like a picnic in the little living room area.

He turned to face you, bringing you close to him.

"Thank you.. thank you for coming out.. and being here.."

"Together, hand in hand, remember?" You touched your nose against his, both of you smiling into each other.

The police called round later that evening. You were sat in the dining room, hand in Cillian's under the table, as they explained.

"We found petrol cans littered around the outside of the house. Three had been thrown through the letterbox, and set alight. Fortunately, your neighbour has CCTV cameras, and we caught images of the person who did it - take a look, see if you recognise them?" One of the officers opened the laptop and played the video. Cillian squeezed your hand, preparing himself to watch his home be destroyed. You could make out the image of a person dropping the cans, and the police froze the screen on the clearest image they had. They zoomed in, and Cillian's mouth dropped.

"I know him..." Your eyes widened. You did too...

"The fuck is he doing there?" You gasped. The Assistant Director of Peaky Blinders, James, was staring right back at you from the screen.

"We have him in custody - he's admitted everything. He'll be charged in the morning. We think you know he has a connected with Lisa?" The officer nodded to Cillian.

"He does. But why's he involved? He's got nothing to do with any of this?

"He's been in on this since the beginning. He's given us Lisa's location in London. The Net Police tracked her down this morning. Y/n, you need to know.. she was about half a mile from your house.." you gasped again.. James must have had access to your records... She must have seduced him to get close to them.. Cillian pulled you close and kissed your head.

"Thank fuck I got you away... Where's your mum?"

"She's gone to her sisters place in Manchester for the weekend.. Cillian she'd have killed us!"

"But she didn't, did she? And she's locked up.. fuck.. this might be over?" He turned to the officers. "Is it over?"

"They've not mentioned anyone else being involved, and James was more than happy to spill the beans - we'll continue to keep an eye on you for a while, just to be on the safe side."

"Thank you... For everything... Thank you." You whispered to the officers, barely able to form a sentence. You were still worried, but you felt safe for the first time in weeks.

Once the police had left, you fell into each others arms, holding on tighter than you ever had. The relief flooding you both.

"Where's Emily?" You asked, as he was kissing your neck.

"In the garden with Orla... You'll have to control yourself a little while longer Cillian, it's nearly dinner time..." You groaned, feeling his lips gently nibbling at your earlobe.

You felt his hand trail up your thigh, over your backside as he pulled you into him.

"You have no idea how much I want to bury my fingers inside you against this wall, right now y/n..." You turned your face to kiss him deeply, before pulling away winking and walking towards the garden, a sexy little sway as you walked, chuckling to yourself.

Dinner was a Chinese takeaway, Orla's insistence even though you'd offered to cook them all a meal to say thank you for having them. Once it was all cleaned up and the little ones were in bed, Emily set up in a small single Batman themed bed (another treat from Cillian) in Leo's room, the four of you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Your body was wrapped in Cillian's on the sofa, Orla looking over at the two of you.

"You two are like lovestruck teenagers, you know that?" She laughed, watching the two of you stealing glances at each other and stroking each others hands.

"Too much PDA from your older brother, Orla?" Cillian pulled a face making Orla laugh.

"No, it's so lovely seeing you happy, especially after everything that's happened these last couple of years.. it's been a tough one hasn't it?"

"It's been difficult, but it's over now. I can focus on picking myself back up now. I'll finish Peaky, and take some time off, I think," Cillian yawned, kissing your hand. "I'm beat. Orla, Damien.. we can't thank you enough." He stood, taking your hand in his and leading you out the room.

"What are family for Cillian, you're welcome here as long as you need to be," Damien smiled.

Within minutes you were in his room against the wall, jeans round your ankles, his fingers knuckle deep in your core pulling forward against your walls. His hand covering your mouth to quieten you so you didn't wake the kids up in the next room.

"Fuck... Cillian don't stop..." Your orgasm was already building following the constant teasing between the two of you that evening, and he increased the speed on his movements inside you. Your hand sneaking underneath the waistband of his jeans to grip his erection firmly, making him hiss slightly at the sensation as you pumped him slowly under his jeans, the fabric not allowing for too much movement.

"You gonna cum for me y/n? Let me feel it..." He whispered in your ear, making you shudder. You nodded, before moaning deep into his hand, your orgasm washing over you like a hurricane. Your hand gripped onto his cock a little tighter as his fingers came to a stop, before bringing them to his lips to taste you.

You kicked off your jeans from your ankles and sank to your knees, pulling his jeans down with you. He looked down at you and watched you tease the tip of his cock with your tongue, lightly licking around the head and down his shaft. He rested forward, one hand against the wall, the other in your hair, groaning as he watched you take him inside your mouth painfully slowly. Inch by inch, sucking gently, before he felt the back of your throat.

"Fuck yes..." He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing, trying not to blow his load down your throat. You started bobbing your head back and forth, your teeth scraping the underside of his cock as you did making him grip your hair tight. You really wanted to make him come in your mouth but your core was screaming for him. Standing up and pulling both your t-shirts over your head you led him over to the bed, pushing him onto his back. Crawling over his legs, you hovered over his cock, bringing your fingers down to you core and running them slowly over your wetness.

"Want this, Cill?" He groaned watching your fingers running through your folds and nodded quickly. You sank onto him, making both of you gasp, and started rocking your hips back and forth. He held onto your hips guiding you, and you leaned back, finding your rhythm. His fingers toyed with your clit as you rode him, and you could feel a second orgasm approaching. Sensing it, he flipped you over to lie on your front on the bed. Pushing your legs together, raising your hips slightly, he moved over them and started pushing himself back inside you, his chest now on your back as he started thrusting into you. You clawed at the bedframe, the new angle hitting your g spot perfectly.

"Fuck you're so tight... This feel good baby?" His voice was back in your ear now, his lips kissing and biting over your shoulders and neck as his thrusts became more powerful. You had to muffle your cries of ecstacy into the pillow. "Good girl... you gonna cum again for me huh?"

You couldn't stop it if you tried, you came hard, your walls clenching every inch of him. His thrusts slowed slightly, before he pulled out of you and lifted your hips up so you were on your knees, your face still in the pillows. Lining himself you, he thrust hard into you, making you bury your face again and grip the bedframe as he fucked you hard and fast, the only sounds being your skin slapping together and the wet sounds where your bodies were joined.

"Fuck... Shit... Gonna come y/n..." He grunted softly as you felt him spurt his seed deep inside you, panting as he came down from his high, before pulling out and laying beside you, stroking your face gently.

"I love you.. y/n.." he whispered softly, taking your face in his hands and kissing your lips. You froze, gasped softly and pulled back. Was it too soon? Probably. Did you care? Nope. You saw a flash of panic in his eyes and smiled.

"I love you, Cillian. I do.. I've not felt this way for anyone else. Ever." He grinned, and pulled you into his arms.

"I've been thinking.. I need a change of scenery. What would you say if I moved to London? Permanently?" You leaned up on your arm and trailed your fingers over his chest hair.

"What about Ireland? All your family are here?"

"Yeah but they've had more than 40 years of me. You and Emily are in London - and that's where I want to be."

"Cillian I'd never make you leave your family - please know that?"

"No ones making me do anything anymore y/n. I'm doing this for us - there is an us, right?" You punched him lightly on the arm making him chuckle. "I've already started talking to estate agents. There's a beautiful 3 bed townhouse in Kilburn. It looks stunning y/n, you'd love it."

"What do you need a 3 bed house for? There's only you?" He looked down at you and raised his eyebrow - you felt your core throb slightly, that eyebrow raise was sexy as fuck... And you were certain he knew it.

"Well, Emily's gonna need a room. And us. And a spare room for guests maybe.. or..." Your stomach flipped.

"Cillian.. If you're asking me what I think you're asking me.."

"I'm not asking for anything y/n, I'm not even asking you to move in, unless you want to obviously... I just.. I just want to be near you. All the time. I know it's early days still, but we've been through more in a short time than most couples go through in a lifetime. I can't ever see myself with anyone else, ever.. what do you say?" He was stroking your face, and you were lost in his eyes.

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"I'm in charge of the decorating. I've seen the photos of your last house Cill, your taste is shocking.." he laughed and tickled you until you were back underneath him, and you groaned at his hardness pushing against your thigh. Kissing him deeply, he was soon back inside you, slotting in like a jigsaw piece finding its other half.

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

Epilogue - 1 year later

You and Emily had spent the afternoon tidying and cleaning, waiting for Cillian to come home after a month back in Dublin onstage at the Gaiety Theatre performing in Enda Walsh's latest production - Cillian's first work since finishing Peaky Blinders 8 months ago. The show was due to go live any time now. You'd moved into his Kilburn house 6 months ago after realising you were spending 5 days out of 7 there every week anyway. Lisa and James were in prison for a fair few years, being found guilty for arson, slander and harassment.

"Mum, he's here!!" Emily ran from the window after hearing a car pull up and you both went into the kitchen - Emily sat at the table pretending to do her homework and you at the counter on your laptop.

"Hey girls? I'm home!" He called, and you walked into the hallway smiling before embracing him tightly. He kissed you and dropped his bag on the floor and his keys in the bowl. Emily walked through and hugged him right, before standing as straight as possible in the hallway. You winked at her, and looked at Cillian who was staring at Emily.

"How've you both been? What have I missed?" He moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on, desperate for a home made cup of tea.

"Nothing much really.. Emily and I went shopping this afternoon and she's got herself a few new t shirts, I bought a few things I think we'll need soon." He looked at you and smiled, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Look at my new t-shirt Cillian!" Emily danced in front of him, twirling round in circles making him laugh.

"I can't see it while your spinning like a merry-go-round Em, stand still!" She stood still and you bit your lip. "What's it say on the front... Hang on.." he gently held Emily's shoulders and read the slogan. He paused, then read it again, before turning sharply to you.

"Big Sister?!" You nodded, grinning.

"Mommy's having a baby!" Emily yelled, pretty sure your neighbours knew now!

"You're pregnant?!" He moved over to you and placed a hand over your belly - no bump yet, but it still made you glow inside.

"Six weeks. Found out yesterday, wanted to surprise you..." He lifted you off the floor and kissed you, before reaching for Emily and pulling her into the hug. You felt safe, secure, and most importantly, loved.

And now with baby Murphy on the way, your family would be complete.

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 23: Tangled

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Female OC

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

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

Chapter Summary: Clare Wilson's case continues to get more and more tangled, but that's nothing compared to what Montserrat and Rafael have going on.

Alright, so plans weren't turning out so well...for some people. Others actually got to where they needed to be on time. Like a professional does.

Montserrat practically ran down a hallway, slowing down only when she saw Rafael coming out of Judge Dolan's office. He looked peeved...and this time with good reasons.

"Where the hell is Rollins?" he demanded from the detective who was out of breath.

"I... don't know…" he took in a deep breath. "I just got a call from Liv and I dragged my ass out here."

"No good, you're still late," his snap was met with a glare.

"Hey, at least I'm here. And did I mention you're crankier in the mornings? Didn't think that was possible, by the way."

Rafael ignored her and led the way down the hallway. "We need to get Clare out now."

Still, Montserrat had to follow him. "Dolan signed the release forms?"

"Yes. I got him to do it because I was here on time," he purposely said loudly.

"You should be grateful I'm here," she snapped this time. "It wasn't my turn."

"Sorry," he scoffed. "Didn't know my presence was so bothersome to you that you had to tag team now."

"Don't be like that, please," she moved up so she could walk alongside him instead of behind. Her plead had come not in a snap, nor a demand, but instead in a way that sounded exactly like what it was: a plead.

Against his will, Rafael was forced to calm his snaps. It was that little effect she had on him that he wished she didn't. Because if she didn't, then it would be a lot easier to put some distance between them. It would be so much easier to show her that he was not the right person for her.

"Let's just go get Clare and go home," he said calmer but still put a bit more speed into his walk to leave her behind. It was simply for the best.

~0~

With Amanda being a confirmed no-show, Montserrat was the one to go directly to the officers in charge of the juvenile facility to get Clare back. There she was at the front desk, anxiously giving out Clare's information to get her back.

"Mm, one of those," the officer hummed after pulling up the right profile.

Montserrat made a face at the woman. "What does that mean?"

The officer ignored the question and moved on to what she found. "You're a little late. Yeah, she started acting up, so we gave her diesel therapy." At Montserrat's blank face, the officer elaborated. "Put her on a bus to Knollwood Juvenile."

"And where's that?"

"The Delaware border," the officer's rude manner pushed Montserrat more than where she already was.

The detective glared with a crinkled nose. "Well, thank you for nothing." She turned away and ignored the officer's face. She made it back to Rafael and told him what happened and of course had his first outraged response all to herself.

"Are you kidding me!?" he looked ready to go to the officer himself.

"Nothing I can do! She's out of our reach-"

Rafael brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed circles over it. "Maybe if you or Rollins had been here on time we would've caught her."

"Woah, I know you are not blaming me for this," she stepped closer to him and glared.

But like before, they were evenly matched.

He stepped closer as well and leveled her glare with his own. "Were you here on time? Was Rollins?"

"It wasn't my call," she said slowly. She was well aware of their proximity but this time he had her so irritated she wanted to smack him not kiss him. "Amanda was meant to be in. I had plans! I had the day off!"

"Oh, excuse me, then," Rafael sarcastically said as he backed away. He did it for measures though. "What plans did you have that were more important than your job?"

"Seeing my brother who's been gone for an entire month," Montserrat spat, and did technically get through to the man. "Gael and Damien were on a business trip, remember? We even celebrated my birthday earlier because they weren't sure if they would be back before my birthday."

Yup, Rafael did remember that. Dammit. He inwardly sighed and started regretting all the animosity he spewed. "I'm sorry."

"I was supposed to be out today so I could see him. So sorry if it got in your way," Montserrat pushed past him towards the door.

Rafael thought about going after her but he knew she'd never listen to him right now. He'd be lucky if she did even when she was angry with him. Why couldn't Rollins just have gotten here like planned? he would think endlessly on the way home.

~0~

Hearing they missed Clare, Olivia decided to go straight for the girl herself in her new prison. She took Nick with her, in hopes of finally getting the girl back. In the meantime, when Amanda finally showed up later that day (much, much later), everyone had their go at her. But no one was more irritated than Montserrat.

"I got yelled at because you didn't show up!" the ginger was shouting in Amanda's face. "I had plans, too, you know."

Amanda had a headache. It was a terrible, terrible headache that was borderline a migraine. She nursed a cup of coffee and just nodded as Montserrat yelled at her. When Montserrat was done, the ginger returned to her desk and plopped down while she waited for Amanda to finally speak.

"I'm sorry, guys. Something came up," Amanda said. Yeah, betting did. "It was irresponsible not to call in. That's my bad."

"Yeah," Montserrat snapped.

"Are you alright, Rollins?" Fin eyed the blonde woman with some concern. earlier in the day when they had first gotten word Amanda did not show up to Hudson county, Nick had talked to him on the side about Amanda's recent odd behavior. At the time, then just brushed Nick's words off. But now, looking at Amanda, he was beginning to think Nick was right in some sense.

Amanda seemed huddled as she took her seat at her desk. Even her nod is kind of off. "Yeah. Just not my best day." She glanced over at Montserrat, genuinely looking sorry for putting the ginger into that situation. "I'm sorry, Montserrat. I didn't mean to ruin your day."

Montserrat didn't say anything but she sensed Amanda's honesty. It wasn't so much that she had to cancel her plans with her brother, as it was that she'd been forced to be with Rafael when she was clearly not ready because all she seemed to do was argue with him, even more now. And that was saying something.

"Let's just focus on Perry's connections, shall we?" Sonny eventually asked after the silence became too awkward.

It was really the best they could do to push away the hard feelings. However, after a few hours they got a call from a very angry Olivia who ordered them to do some digging on the new prison Clare was in, Knollwood. As soon as they had something concrete, they were to meet her with Rubirosa and Rafael.

Olivia was livid even after they met her. And as she told the group how they found Clare's new prison, it just got her riled up even more. "Forget about releasing Clare. They wouldn't even let us see her!"

Nick, who was a bit more calm than Olivia, added, "They said she was in solitary. And she's staying in there no matter what."

"We called a contact at Jersey DOC, but he said Knollwood sets its own rules," Fin said.

"Knollwood's a private facility?" Rafael asked, even though he assumed the answer based on everything Olivia had told them so far (well, raged about).

"Oh yeah, owned and operated," Sonny answered. "The state pays per prisoner each day that they're there."

"It's pretty lucrative," Amanda remarked as she picked up a file she and Montserrat worked on before coming. It was the only way they wouldn't argue and once they found out more about Knollwood, setting aside their differences wasn't that hard. "They hit record profits just last quarter. So the more prisoners they get, the more money they make."

"And they're not exactly putting those profits back into the facility or rehab," Montserrat crinkled her nose as she remembered the details and accompanying photographs they'd found in their research.

"We get that," Rafael said dismissively while he went through his own paperwork.

Montserrat gave him a look for that. "No-" that sharpness made him involuntarily wince and look up to meet her hardened gaze, "-you really don't. There have been dozens of attempted teenage suicides. There's allegations of drug abuse, violence, sexual abuse-"

"-can we just put reforming the for-profit prison system on hold and focus on Clare?" he managed to cut through, not that it made Montserrat any happier.

"I was getting to that, Counselor," she smiled sarcastically. "If you'd let me talk. So every judge in Jersey- they send a few kids there a year, but Judge Dolan - 90% of his juveniles end up there."

"So the judge is funneling them business," Rubirosa got in and asked the winning question. "What's Knollwood funneling back to him?"

"We'll get back to you on that," Amanda made an apologetic face.

"And the Perry money trail?" asked Rafael.

"We have forensic accountants tearing his books apart, but he still won't give us the name of Clare's rapist," Sonny said. "And he had the Hudson County legal system railroad Clare. I mean, whoever this rapist is, he has serious hooks."

Olivia understood that and it made her even angrier they couldn't get to him. "So, Fin, Amaro, Carisi, keep hitting Perry. Novak, Rollins, keep digging at Knollwood. In the meantime-" she turned to the two ADAs, "-do you guys have any plan at all to get Clare out of there?"

Judging by Rubirosa's face, it appeared she'd been thinking about it for a while now. "I'm gonna get a forthwith order releasing Clare to New York's DOC."

"How is that any different from the last one?" Montserrat curiously asked.

"Even if she's in solitary, the warden will have to release her immediately."

Montserrat nodded and, very lowly, whispered to Sonny, "She's good." Sonny knew she had to have hated making that admission considering how she felt towards Rubirosa.

~0~

Thankfully, Rubirosa followed through and allowed SVU to finally take Clare somewhere safe. At this point, it was back to the hospital so she could rest and get back to normal health. Prison had done a number on her again.

"They drugged me," Clare said with a scratch voice. She'd been given a room in the hospital for her to peacefully rest in and was now receiving a visit from Montserrat. "They said I was out of control. I mean, I know I'm no white dove but…I didn't deserve that."

Montserrat watched the girl's eyes get watery and felt rage towards the prison ward, as well as the whole situation in general. "I'm so sorry, Clare, but we're working on bringing Perry down right now."

"Did he tell you the name of my rapist?"

"...no," Montserrat watched the little hope Clare had leave her body with slumped shoulders. "But we will, okay? We told you we're not giving up on you, remember?"

"You guys got me out of there," Clare said, reminding herself that even though they did get the chance to abandon her they didn't. "It was awful there."

"I heard," Montserrat said sadly.

"They dry-celled me in solitary. There was no running water. They called it the brown room. I had to sleep on the floor with no blankets. The other kids - everyone had bruises," Clare looked down at her arms which, surprisingly, bore no said bruises. "I guess I got lucky in that department."

"You're never going back there again, I promise," Montserrat got up from her seat to check her buzzing phone. "That's my partner. We may have gotten a breakthrough somewhere. I'll come back, okay?"

Clare nodded and smiled at the detective. "Thanks for being here."

"Of course," Montserrat offered a smile of her own then headed out of the room. As soon as she was outside the room, she sighed. She just kept thinking about her niece and it sickened her that no one else was watching out for Clare.

~ 0 ~

By the time Montserrat returned to the precinct, the group was already at the conference table discussing their recent findings on Perry.

"How was Clare?" Olivia asked her once she joined them.

"In honesty, she's had a rough few days," Montserrat sighed. "But I think she'll be good now, even more so if we manage to catch her rapist."

"Well, maybe we're getting there," Amanda walked over to the board of their case. "The Masconis are the ones getting the money from Knollwood."

"So did we get anywhere with Perry's byzantine financial system?" Montserrat looked at the men who'd been in charge of that.

"No, but we decided to take an alternate route," Fin said. "We took a look at Judge Dolan's finances."

"Hm, let me guess. Beatrice D'Avola's PR firm pays him as a consultant?" Olivia asked.

"No, money flows the other way."

"Four years ago, the Judge starts writing checks to local assemblymen, the Governor as well. 40 grand a year," Sonny relayed from one document they'd been able to get.

"The Governor?" Rafael stopped him, as if to mean for Sonny to check his details again.

"He's the one who appoints county prosecutors," Rubirosa pointed out. "With the advice of local assemblymen. A lot of money for a family court judge."

"He had to take out a second mortgage," Nick shared with them.

"What, for campaign contributions? He still writing checks?"

"No, he stopped two years ago."

"And that's when Knollwood hired the PR firm owned by Masconi's mother-in-law," Montserrat was catching up on the files on the table. She crinkled her nose at that detail and looked up to see if they'd caught on with it too.

"And when Dolan starts dumping every juvie he comes across into Knollwood," Fin agreed with her.

"So Masconi says 'Jump' and Dolan says 'How high'?" Olivia was liking they were finally getting somewhere with the case. The deeper they were into the case, the more they could get for each culprit.

"What does he have on him?" Rubirosa leaned against the table, her dark eyes flickering from one picture on the board to the next.

Rafael came to stand beside her and gazed at the board himself. Well, like any group of criminals there was always the strong and the weak, the boss and the lackeys. "Masconi, Perry- they're old-school thugs. Dolan bullies teenage girls. Let's hit the weak link."

Montserrat had the misfortune of witnessing the brief smirk he shared with Rubirosa. She didn't like it.

~ 0 ~

"You're jealous?" Kara had no regards for prudence or plain kindness. She just laughed while the two set dinner at the table, six plates, while Montserrat practically slammed the forks down beside each plate.

"Funny, I was under the impression that you were my best friend who would not laugh at my misery," Montserrat's quiet sarcasm was responded with another small laugh.

"I'm sorry, but it's too funny."

"My misery?"

"Hey, if you would've listened before, then none of this would've happened."

"Except it would have because Rafael would have still said the same things he did now," Montserrat put the last of the utensils down. She brought her hands up to her hair that she pushed back. "Oh my God, this is ridiculous. If I hadn't kissed him none of this would be happening."

"But you would be stuck in an endless 'what if' pit," Kara pointed out, much more serious now that she saw how stressed Montserrat was.

"But it's got to be better than this, right?" Montserrat dropped her hands and pressed them against the table to lean forwards on. "Here I am being jealous of some woman who's just doing her job. And when I'm not being jealous, I'm arguing with Rafael. Anything would have been better than this. It's got to be."

Kara stared at her friend with sorrow. "Okay," she moved around the table and gently turned Montserrat around. "I know that's how you feel, but I know that getting it off your chest was the better choice, you know it too. It's hard, but it will pass. And whatever happens, you'll know you made the right choice."

Montserrat swallowed hard and pushed away any tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Yeah…" she whispered.

There was an exciting knock on the door from one four year old calling out, "Auntie Montse! I have a new game! Auntie Montse!"

Kara chuckled. "Love her. You want me to wait a minute-"

Montserrat shook her head. "No, go answer it. I'm good." She drew in a breath while Kara walked towards the door. They were having dinner with their brothers, and Montserrat's nieces, and this was something she didn't want to ruin. Some good family time was exactly what she needed.

As soon as Kara opened the door, Ivana Novak scurried into the apartment and went straight for her aunt. Montserrat bent down to pick the girl up in time.

"Auntie Montse! I've got Candyland! Do you want to play!?"

"Where's my hug and kiss first?" Montserrat's demand was met immediately with one brief tight hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"We can play now!?"

Montserrat laughed, a genuine laugh too. "Maybe after dinner, okay?"

Ivana nodded and was promptly set back on the floor. Montserrat moved on to hug Kara's brother, Damien, and then her brother, Gael.

"Please tell me you fixed your WiFi," Juliana's remark was practically ignored by Montserrat who pulled her into a tight hug. "Uh, okay…" Juliana was taken aback by the tightness of the hug. "Aunt Montse, are you alright?"

"Sorry," Montserrat pulled away from the teenager and looked at the others apologetically. "I have a case with a girl who reminds me of you, Julia. She's a year older than you but...she's had it tough."

"Oh god, what happened to her?"

"Lots of things, sweetie," Montserrat brought her, and prompted the others, towards the table. "We just got her out of prison after she'd been deprived of food and water, and sleep…"

"That's awful," Juliana made a face as she sat down. "Is she going to be okay now?"

"Course she is," Damien answered before Montserrat could. He smiled at the ginger. "Because your aunt's on the case now."

Montserrat smiled softly. "Thanks."

"C'mon, let's have some dinner," Kara said as she emerged from the kitchen with a tray of casserole.

"That smells good, Kara," Gael sniffed the air, along with Ivana. He could never deny that wasn't his daughter.

"I've been learning how to cook with Sonny," Kara proudly set the tray on the table.

"Yup, I'll give her that," Montserrat nodded. "We haven't had to call the firefighters in months now." Kara smacked her shoulder, making the others laugh.

"Just start serving or at least give me the spoon," Damien said as he searched for the spoon himself.

"I want to go first!" Ivana raised her hand and started getting up on her chair when Gael gently made her sit again.

"So Montse, was your birthday fun?"

Montserrat, who'd been drinking out of her glass, nearly choked on it when the subject changed. "What?" she looked at her brother with wide eyes. "Why? What have you heard?"

"Montse," Kara mumbled for the woman to get it together.

Gael was indeed staring at her sister. Montserrat cleared her throat and answered much calmer, "I...it was okay. It's never really fun turning 30, right?"

"I remember that," Damien nudged Gael on the side. "Remember our 30th?"

"I'd rather not," Gael agreed with a nod.

"I'm mad I didn't get to go to your party," Juliana crossed her arms, rather upset until Kara put a slice of casserole on her plate.

"It was at a bar," Montserrat reminded her. "No way your grandfather would let you go."

"Done good," Gael pointed. "But Montse, here's a gift I picked up. Juliana, sweetie?" Juliana nodded and got up from her chair to go retrieve a paper bag they'd left near the couch.

"A present?" Montserrat glanced to see her niece picking up the bag. "Oh no, please-"

"It's late, but I hope you like it," Gael took the bag from Juliana.

"Just so you know, I made sure it was good," Juliana warned Montserrat as she went back to her seat. "You know how men are with their gifts."

Montserrat chuckled as she reached a hand inside the bag. She pulled out a white rectangular box that she gingerly placed on the table. Inside she found a personalized, silver glass photo frame with a photo of herself, her father, Gael, the girls and Casey. To its right was an engraved phrase that read 'Our family may be small, but we are mighty' in Slovak, their home language.

"Oh that is beautiful, Gael!" Montserrat gawked. She remembered that photo from a birthday picnic they had for their father's birthday last year. "I love this!"

"Let me see!" Kara wiggled her fingers to get the frame. She tilted her head while she tried to read the foreign language. "What's that say?"

Montserrat took back the frame and read aloud, "Naša rodina môže byť malá, ale sme mocní. We may be small, but we are mighty."

"Aww, that's so cute," Kara chuckled.

"Okay, well, open mine now," Damien surprised her with his own gift that apparently fit inside his jacket.

"Guys…" Montserrat looked guilty for taking more presents, but no one seemed to care. Damien handed his present, shaped as a small box, to Montserrat. With a sigh, she took it and lifted its lid to find an emerald Kate Spade watch inside. It had light pink jewels on the glass of the watch. When Montserrat turned it over, she found her name engraved on the back. "Wow…" she blinked. "I…"

"Do you like it?" Damien seemed eager to hear the answer.

"Are you kidding? I love it," Montserrat laughed. "I'll probably wear this everyday!"

"That's the idea!"

Montserrat smiled at him then the others. For the next few hours, she'd finally get some peace.

~ 0 ~

The weakest link turned out to be even more fragile than Rafael had thought. Mere hours after Amanda and Fin visited Judge Dolan, the news of his suicide spread like wildfire through the media.

"This photo is probably why Judge Dolan killed himself," Amanda showed the group a picture of said judge with a 12 year old on his lap. "It was sent to him right before he killed himself.

Rubirosa took a closer look at the girl in the picture. "I know this girl. I saw her file. Miyako Nara, she was born into a massage parlor, passed around early."

"Where is this girl now?" Olivia asked.

"She disappeared four years ago. No trace of her since."

"Four years ago?" repeated Rafael, sounding like he'd just made a connection the others hadn't yet. "That's when Dolan started paying off Masconi's political cronies."

"Okay, now we know what Masconi has on Dolan," Nick said.

"Yeah but if they're smart then they definitely didn't send that picture on his own phone, right?" Montserrat watched Amanda shake her head. "Yeah."

"But the photo looks like a surveillance still from a private room at a strip club," Sonny pointedly looked at the group, reminding them what link they still had in their possession. "Miyako used to work at Perry's Jersey City club."

"All roads lead to Perry," Olivia bitterly said.

"Well, maybe Perry will talk now that Dolan's out of the picture," Montserrat suggested another round with the man.

"Worth a shot," Rubirosa agreed with her.

~ 0 ~

Clare shuddered a breath when she stepped into the lineup room to pick out the man who raped her. She couldn't believe they'd actually gotten him and that now it was just up to her to pick him out.

"Whenever you're ready," Montserrat gently brought the girl up to the glass.

Clare only needed to look once before she spotted the familiar man. "It's him, number three."

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked.

Clare nodded, swallowing roughly. "He raped me in the VIP room. It's like he thought I was part of the deal."

"Are we done here?" ADA Gina Masconi, Masconi's wife, moved forwards but Montserrat blocked the way to Clare. "I would like a word with my client."

"You mean your husband?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You're still standing by your man, Counselor?"

"Get some self respect," Montserrat muttered but was heard just fine by Masconi. "I'm going to bring Clare back to the group home. I'll be back later."

Olivia nodded for her to go and wished Clare well before they did.

~ 0 ~

"So the man who raped me is the prosecutor who charged me with fraud?" Clare felt like her head would hurt if she kept thinking about it. Montserrat was walking her down the group home hallway, back to her old room.

"Yeah, and the judge that put you away was being blackmailed by him," Montserrat added, but didn't expect Clare to remark about it. "I'm sorry. New Jersey- they're never gonna clean it up."

"But I'm safe now. They can't charge me?" Clare asked, stopping by the threshold of her room. "They can't send me back to Knollwood?"

"Absolutely not," Montserrat promised since she could see the fear of the idea in Clare's eyes. "And the feds assured us that they're gonna investigate Knollwood. We might free more of the kids inside there."

"Can you trust those guys?"

Montserrat bobbed her head for a few seconds. "Well, my friend seems to and, despite his irritating habits, he knows his stuff."

"So what happens now?" Clare stepped inside the room, and suddenly it didn't look so small like before.

"You start your new life. Go get your GED. Maybe go to college?"

Clare shrugged but Montserrat could see the smile on the girl's face. "With my view. There's my tree." She walked up to the window to peer out. She might go out later.

Montserrat felt her phone buzz inside her pocket so she pulled it out to read a text message. She quickly type back and put the phone back in her pocket. "So listen," at her voice, Clare turned sideways, "I know that being a teenager is hard enough, so...I may have done something to try and help."

"Like what?" Clare crossed her arms and waited for it.

"Well, that thing about your GED? I think I may have someone who could help you study and, I don't know, just be a friend?"

Clare looked at the detective suspiciously and even more so when she spotted a teenage girl with light red hair coming into the room.

"Clare, this is my niece, Juliana," Montserrat brought Juliana further into the room.

"Hey, you can call me Jules if you'd like," Juliana's nonchalant greeting made wonders for Clare. Everyone else in the group home seemed to have this pity look for her.

"Okay…" Clare's eyes flickered to Montserrat. "What's she doing here?"

Juliana covered her aunt's mouth - which she got a glare from Montserrat for - to speak with the right words. "Look, I know you've been through some tough stuff so my aunt thought it would be nice if you had someone to show you around the city. You know, like the fun parts?"

Clare somehow found a smile. "You can do that?"

"My Dad's okay with it but I need to check in every once in a while. Plus, I know where the best diner is in these parts. Have you ever tried french fries with milkshakes?"

"No...because I'm a sane person...in what fits."

"It'll blow your mind," Juliana made a motion above her head like if something were exploding.

"Okay," Clare nodded, seemingly getting into the idea. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Juliana smiled. She glanced at her aunt to see she was doing the same thing.

~ 0 ~

"Done deal, case closed," Amanda seemed to be in a hurry to leave the bullpen. She was gathering her things on her desk, ignoring what the others were planning for the night.

"We could get some drinks?" Sonny was asking the detectives, along with Olivia and Rafael. He spotted Montserrat coming in and called out to her, "Hey, how'd it go with Clare?"

"Um, I think she'll be good," Montserrat leaned against the side of her desk. "I introduced her to Juliana and I think that might help Clare get back to some normality."

"That's good, girl needs it," Fin nodded.

"And your brother's okay with this?" Olivia raised an eyebrow, making a good question.

"He knows I'd never put Juliana in danger," Montserrat smiled. "I think it could be good for Clare. And Juliana actually wanted to help."

"Alright, well, I gotta go," Amanda finally slung her bag over her shoulder. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Rollins, you're not going…?" Nick trailed off since the blonde left without hearing anything else. He turned his chair to the others and pointed behind for Amanda. "I'm not the only one who sees that, right? Something's wrong with Rollins."

"I think you just need to focus on yourself, Amaro," Rafael said. Nick rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah, so how about them drinks?" Sonny pushed himself up from his seat.

"You don't have a date with Kara today?" Montserrat gave him a suspicious look. "You blow off my roommate, I kill you. You know that, right?"

Sonny playfully rolled his eyes at her. "One moment you're on me about actually having a relationship with Kara and then you're suddenly upset because I'm not paying attention to her?"

Montserrat shrugged her shoulders. "It depends on my mood."

Sonny deadpanned her and concluded he needed that drink now. "I'm leaving. Anyone joining?"

"Me," Fin raised a hand and got up. Nick agreed and started getting his jacket.

"How about you, Liv? Councilor?" Sonny gave a look at the two in question then one for Montserrat. "Montse?"

"I'm good, thanks," Montserrat said fast then looked to Rafael, as if letting him know he was free to go now since she'd declined.

Olivia declined as well, saying she was much too tired to think about drinking out from home. She was the next one to leave, but unlike Amanda she was in no apparent rush.

"Guess it's a guy's night out," Sonny shrugged and started leading the way.

"Can't see that turning out wrong," Montserrat sarcastically said, earning herself a look from Fin.

"Yeah, yeah," the man waved her off.

"Montserrat?" Rafael purposely lingered behind.

The woman, however, started getting her things with no intention of sticking around for another conversation that would inevitably turn into an argument. "You're free to go, Councilor. I wouldn't have said 'yes' anyways to drinks. I'm tired."

"But that's not what I'd like anyways," he said. "We can't go avoiding each other when we work together. And not being able to be in the same room together? Really?"

Montserrat didn't want to be frustrated, but it showed by the harsh way she stuffed her jacket into her bag. "Well, what do you suggest?" she looked up to meet his gaze. "Because it seems like whatever we do, we end up arguing anyways."

"I'm sorry-"

"-don't apologize. You just anger me more like that."

"Then I guess I should keep my mouth shut around you?"

"Maybe so."

Rafael deadpanned her before scolding her, "Montserrat, believe it or not it's not my intention to anger you, much less hurt you."

Montserrat seemingly discarded his apology to the side as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Well you're doing a fantastic job here."

"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "You might not believe me, but I am sorry." Before she could toss that apology and leave, he grabbed her arm and made her look at him. "I know your birthday was never one you wanted to celebrate and I stupidly thought I could ease that night for you. But I just made things worse."

"I don't get why," Montserrat said quietly.

"I'm trying to help you," he clarified and for some reason, this time, she could believe him. She might not agree with him, but she could see the honesty in his eyes. "I don't want to ruin you."

"Why would you do that? How would you even do that to me?"

There was a weak smile on Rafael's face. "Why do you think Yelina and I didn't last? It's always me." Montserrat's face softened. She flinched, though, when he touched her face. "You know exactly who you're dealing with, Montserrat, and I don't want you to crash because of me. You're beautiful, you'll have no problem finding someone good."

His soft smile, coupled with his words, stunned Montserrat. In all her months working at SVU, spending time with him, he'd never been...like this. He was open, he was genuine...he was himself, not the sharp-tongue ADA she'd come to know.

Rafael withdrew his hand from her face and stared at her for a few minutes, almost making a mental picture of how close he had her, how she looked at him with her big, brown eyes...all to remember her, because the next time they would see each other they would be friends and nothing more.

It's over, Montserrat realized. No matter what she did, nor what she said, things were over and they never even really got started. "Okay," she said in a low whisper.

Rafael nodded and turned to leave when a tall, dark haired man walked into the bullpen. The man seemed to be lost until he looked at Rafael, only for Rafael to realize it wasn't him but Montserrat behind him the man was looking at.

"Jonah?" Montserrat blinked several times just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Her emotions were a bit out of place, after all.

A big smile came to the man's face. "Montserrat! So it was the right place!"

Montserrat hurried towards 'Jonah' to give him a hug, but her eyes were still wide from the shock of seeing him.

"No problem at all," Rafael mumbled under his breath as he walked out of the bullpen.

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

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bigowlenergy · 4 years

Text

doctor

Part 1; Reflection Part 2; Corruption

The monumental effort it takes to keep his leg from vibrating the couch though the floor is not something that Danny is capable of at the moment, but he does put a little more effort into it when the downstairs neighbors bang on the ceiling for the third time. It’s just the broom this time, not accompanied by more yelling like when he’d been pacing earlier. Guess they’re starting to understand that this is the best they’re going to get tonight.

He checks his phone for the hundredth time, but nothing has changed. He messages a bunch of punctuation at the group with Sam and Tucker then drops it back into his pocket. Refocuses on not angering Val’s neighbors more than he already has. But he’s stressed down to his soul, at this point. It’s hard to sit here and just wait.

But he has to. If he wants Val to trust him, then it has to be this way.

He doesn’t know how Sam and Tucker ever dealt with this.

The elevator in the hallway dings for the third time that night and Danny goes still, waiting. It’s Val.

Footsteps echo in a slow, mincing gait as they draw closer to the door. Something thuds quietly in the hall, and an eternity later, a key scrapes at the lock. It takes a few tries to get it in, then the door swings open with a jerk. Val slams it shut as she slumps into the room. Danny can see the exact second she recognizes that the lights are on, and that she’s not alone.

He moves just enough to dodge her shot, staying still on the couch as she stares wild eyed and shaking with adrenaline. Hands already up in a placing gesture, he waits for her to relax or maybe take better aim. The ectoplasmic burn steams on the fake leather beside his cheek. Smells disgusting.

“Get out.” She whispers like she’ll scream otherwise.

“Not while you’re hurt,” Danny starts, standing slowly.

“I told you -” Her voice starts to rise, but then she sways in place, leaning her shoulder into the door heavily. Her suit finally deactivates, leaving her without that support. Her glare doesn’t falter for a second.

“I know,” Danny says carefully, edging a bit closer. “But please just let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help, just, just go home, Danny.”

“Not while you’re bleeding out, Val. Just let me help you. Please.”

She mumbles something, but is too busy slumping forward to make it into words. Danny catches her when she falls.

At least he’s strong enough that lifting her is easy; dragging her would have only spread the bloodstains further into the apartment. As it is, there’s a spray on the floor and smears on the door and wall she leaned on. He just hopes there’s none in the public hallway. Her suit stemmed most of it, but a good amount drips from her arm now that the temporary bandage is gone.

Danny sets her on her floor where he’s already laid out a towel and the first aid kit. Sam’s usually the one who deals with medical things when he can’t heal fast enough, or needs a little help, or one of the human members of the trio gets injured. Tucker’s too squeamish for everything but PT and the occasional supportive hand holding while Sam does their thing. But Danny’s not one to leave things wholly to other people, so whatever Sam learned, he learned. He’d taught them the basics, since his parents had taught him first.

That’s not even close to the only reason he’s here right now, but it’s what will help smooth this over when Val wakes up.

The three of them have a standing it’s-ok-to-strip-me-for-medical-purposes agreement, but he doesn’t have that with Val, so he does his best to leave her clothes alone and just rolls up her sleeve before it stains when he finds nothing but a few bruises on her back and right leg. They’re already dark, and probably going to be painful for a while, but aren’t in areas he’s immediately concerned about.

It’s a thankfully shallow cut, just long and at a bad angle to keep pressure on when moving. That’s all. It’s an easy clean and disinfect and wrap job. Doesn’t even need stitches.

He’s nearly done putting the kit away when he senses Damien Gray enter the building. He wasn’t supposed to be home until nearly 6 AM, but of course he would call off if he saw anything about Red Huntress on the news. Danny lets out a breath and considers what to do, tracking the rise of his signature in the elevator. Val won’t be waking up for a while yet, so he won’t have to awkwardly duck out of a father-daughter argument, at least.

The elevator dings in his peripheral as he finishes winding the unused bandages into a perfect coil. He clips the end to the roll and waits for whatever happens next.

The front door opens. Not even a second later, Mr. Gray is running for Val’s room and slams her door open.

…Danny forgot about the blood.

Mr. Gray’s eyes are exactly like Val’s - dark and wild and expressive, but with all the fear and none of the rage right now. There’s a long silent moment where only the wind howls outside the window. Danny sets the roll back in the kit and snaps it closed.

“She’s okay,” He offers quietly.

Mr. Gray slumps against the door, clutching the knob in his shaking hand, and lets out a huge sigh.

“Sorry, I haven’t been able to clean up yet. I can -”

“Son,” Says Mr. Gray, and he’s just about the only man Danny will allow to call him that, “You’ve done enough. I’ll… I’ll get it.”

“Okay,” Danny says carefully, “But I’m not the one who just got off a twelve hour shift. I don’t mind.”

Mr. Gray looks a thousand years old as he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. His hair is well into graying and he looks like there’s about a hundred pounds on his shoulders.

“Twelve hours of sitting at a desk, staring at a screen. Trust me, I’d love to have a bit of exercise right now.”

Danny just nods and stands to slide the kit under Val’s bed. If she’s mad about it being there, she can move it later.

He gets out of the way of Mr. Grey lifting Val to set her on her bed. The older man grunts, but succeeds in moving her. Maybe Danny should have offered to help? He has super strength, his dad is 7’2”, his mom is a champion black belt, and Jazz does Crossfit for fun. He has literally no idea what the average human should be able to lift. But whatever that number is, it’s not about to get in the way of Mr. Grey supporting his daughter.

He scoops the slightly stained towel off the floor and folds it nervously, stepping out into the main room. Gives Mr. Grey some privacy to sit with Val and stroke her hair while she sleeps. Danny drops the towel in the empty dirty laundry bin beside the clean one he’s already panic folded while waiting for Val. The Greys might be allergic to pity, but they also see each other seldom enough that anything small Danny can do for them gets lost in the shuffle of a lack of reliable chore schedules. Sue him for his incessant need to be helpful and also a decent boyfriend in the only way he kind of can.

Hopefully, that will change after this. Short term goals. He can do this. Hopefully it will all work out. He can be an optimist when it suits him.

Mr. Grey shuts the door to Val’s room quietly. He sighs with the grace of an overworked father who is absolutely going to internally combust as soon as the front door closes. Danny winces and opens his mouth to offer to clean again, but Mr. Grey just looks at him.

“When did she tell you?”

Oh. Did not think that one through. Short term, short term, short term.

“She…didn’t. I figured it out after a while. Um. She’s kind of mad at me right now, since she didn’t know I knew until tonight.” Danny confesses, rubbing the back of his neck habitually.

Mr. Grey just nods.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asks tiredly.

Danny shakes his head. “It’s fine, thank you. Is it okay if I come check on Val tomorrow?”

“That’s fine. I’m gonna try and keep her home from school, make her rest a bit.”

“Good luck with that, sir.” Danny says honestly, and they both spend a second looking at the closed bedroom door. They both know, for different reasons, that Val would rather climb out the window and jog to school with injuries than ruin her record any more than her absences already have. Danny’ll copy Tucker’s notes for him for her again anyway. If she turns up to school he’ll do what he can to gently bully her home. It won’t work.

“Danny…” Says Mr. Grey, then shakes his head slowly. “Go on home, son. Thanks for taking care of Valerie.”

In the hallway, Danny freezes the small spots of blood solid and eases them out of the carpet.

#dannymay2020 #doctor #gray ghost #danny phantom #valerie gray #red huntress #o i had fun #related to the other one shot #might link them #maybe #fanfiction

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