#i even had to just look up paulo's last name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idesofrevolution · 8 months ago

Text

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

320 notes · View notes

novaksupremacy · 3 months ago

Text

The Veiled Law of Attraction - Chapter 11

chapter surrounds the events of S6E16 "Ghost" Mostly angst, if not just 40 MS Word pages of the absolute angstiest angst that a lesbian could angst and like a small fluffy, almost smut but not really scene in between. I'm really sorry this took over a month to get to you, but I will make another post explaining why. <3

Pairing: Casey Novak x Olivia Benson, Olivia Benson x Alex Cabot, Alex Cabot x Casey Novak

Word Count: 9544

by PKJ aka @novaksupremacy

Read Part 10

The alarm went off and Casey shot up bleary eyed. Another night on the sofa in her office had left her with a stiff neck and a migraine. This was the kind of thing she used to rely on Olivia to help with, but she guessed she’d have to rely on some good old-fashioned over-the-counter pain relievers. She brought her hand up to rub the back of her neck when the door opened.

“Oh, I— I can come back.” Of course it would be Liv. Olivia “Haven’t Seen or Heard from Her Since She Left Her Key on The Counter” Benson.

Casey cleared her throat, “It’s fine, you need something?” She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact.

The brunette held up the stack of files in her hand, “I just had to drop off these fives. I didn’t think you’d be here.” She looked over at the couch to see the blanket all sprawled out. “Casey did you sleep here?”

The redhead scoffed, “You don’t get to ask me that Olivia.” Her face went flush, her heart racing.

“I—I’m sorry you’re right.” The detective hung her head and turned to leave. She stopped right before she hit the doorway and turned around, “Casey, I—”

The ADA looked up at her, lip trembling, “You what? Led me on? Decided I wasn’t what you wanted?” Her face dropped, “Is this because I told you that you were my—”

“No of course not,” Liv interjected. “Casey I care about you more than you know and that’s why I left.”

“Olivia that doesn’t even make any sense. I thought I meant something to you. How can you say you care and then leave without a word. Not even an ‘It’s done’” the attorney felt a single tear roll down her face that she quickly wiped away.

“Because the minute I saw you—” she walked towards Casey, it was clear she had been crying for a while. “I wouldn’t have been able to walk away. Please just know I’m doing this to protect you. Please.” The brunette wanted to reach out and grab her so badly and hug her until everything felt better, until all of the cracks and breaks in both of them healed. “I—I gotta get back.”

The redhead nodded and motioned towards the door. She looked down at her cold coffee from last night and sighed, rubbing her face. The counselor checked herself in the mirror of her office bathroom and brushed her teeth before locking up and heading out to the street towards the coffee cart.

“Large black coffee and a bagel please?” she said, the vocal fry from lack of sleep apparent.

“You okay Ms. Novak?” Paulo the coffee cart attendant asked her, “You sound like you might be getting a cold. Here.” He handed her a small container of what seemed to be some kind of soup, “On the house Ms. Novak.”

“No Paolo it’s okay I just didn’t sleep well, I’m fine I promise.” She tried to hand the container back to him, which he promptly dismissed and waved her off. “Thank you.” She mouthed with a small smile that made her dimple show.

“Casey?” She heard her name being called from the street. The redhead looked up to see Elliot walking towards her in his peacoat and newsboy hat. Shit. He jogged the rest of the way to catch up with her. “Hey Case,” he looked at her with sad eyes, not something she was used to from Stabler. He was usually so—stoic.

“Elliot don’t,” She didn’t know if he was going to try to defend Liv or tell her he was sorry, but she couldn’t handle either right now. As hard as she tried to fight it her lip jutted out and started to shake.

“Case,” he wrapped his arms around her, “Hey breathe kiddo, let’s go in your office okay?” She nodded and followed him inside. He closed the door behind them as she put her food and coffee down on her desk. Elliot sighed and leaned up on the arm of her sofa, “What happened?”

“I was hoping you knew?” she laughed sarcastically. “She’s “protecting me”.” She mocked Liv using air quotes.

“From what?” Stabler squinted.

“Fuck if I know. This all started when she put me in that chokehold—” Casey started to explain.

“She did what?!” Elliot jumped off the couch, jaw clenched, ready to tear into his partner.

“El stop it wasn’t like that.”

“Then enlighten me Casey because that sounds pretty bad.” The redhead could practically see steam coming out her friend’s ears.

“It was about two weeks ago with the Lucas Biggs case. She saw that storage locker and she was having a night terror. It scared me, I tried to wake her up and when I did she put me in a chokehold—but she was still sleeping El. Yeah, when I finally got her up, I freaked out for a minute, and I yelled but I know that’s not Liv.” She walked up closer to Elliot her arms folded and sighed, “but after talking to Avery she just kept talking about how she might be a monster, that some kind of switch might flip?” The ADA scrunched up her face.

Stabler grimaced, “That explains why she asked me if I was worried about how my kids would turn out.”

Casey still looked confused, “What do your kids have to do with this El?”

Elliot popped up and wrapped one arm around Casey and kissed her forehead, “It’s not my story to tell Novak. All I can do is try to get her to tell you. Okay?” He stepped back and placed his hand on the doorknob.

The attorney hesitantly shook her head, “Yeah, okay.” She choked out.

*****

After processing two crime scenes, the first the office building of Elaina Brevet, and second their home where her husband, Jason Brevet, was found brutally slain in much the same many. Tortured with slashed throats. Upon further investigation CSU found that Jason was tortured for the combination to the upstairs safe which according to O’Halloran’s new fancy technology was missing quite a large sum of money.

“The Brevet’s are financial managers,” Cragen briefed Liv and Elliot as they passed the holding cell and into the bullpen, “Now why not invest the cash? Money in a safe doesn’t earn interest.

“Maybe they were hiding it from the IRS?” Elliot suggested.

“Or their creditors,” Fin joined in from across the room, “I got the Brevet’s financials. Both houses mortgaged to the hilt. Credit card debt in the six figures. Maybe living large, they got in over their heads.”

Liv cocked her head, “Why not pay off their bills with all that cash?”

“Because then they would have to explain where it came from.” Munch called out from behind them as he hung up the phone. “I had the forensic accountants go over their books. Brevet Investments is nothing but a high ended pyramid scheme.”

Liv raised her eyebrows, “So all of those huge profits from the past year were phony?”

“Yeah,” Munch shrugged his shoulders, “they take the money from one client, pay another’s dividends, take the rest for themselves.”

“So,” Elliot pondered, “one of their investors got pissed off bad enough to kill em.”

Munch nodded, “yeah the kind you don’t want to piss off in Cali and Bogota.”

“Drug money?” Finch questioned.

“Yeah,” John sighed looking at the records, “and skimming it too, for one client in particular—for one company in particular too out of Vegas called Casa Vega enterprises.”

Finn creased his brow, “Drug lord finds out somebody’s ripping him off, he’d have to hit him quick to set an example.”

“Check with narcotics,” the captain chimed in. See if Casa Vega rings any bells.”

“You got it Cap,” Finn said grabbing his jacket as he motioned to Liv and Elliot, “I got a guy over there we can trust.”

As they head out Finn and Elliot lead the way chit chatting about different cases as Liv fell behind trying to get her arm in the sleeve of her jacket. “Oh, shit, sorry.” She muttered, timing would not be her friend in this moment. As she stopped Casey opened the door to her office and the two women just about collided. The redhead dropped the stack of paperwork in her arms. They both bent down trying to scoop up the mess, “Leave it to me to find another way to ruin your day.” She let out a half-hearted chuckle as she tried to make light of the awkward situation.

“Yeah, you’re uh, getting kind of good at that.” Casey teasingly chided, as she scooped up the rest of her papers. She caught a hint of Liv’s perfume, and her heart jumped into her throat. She missed her something awful and being this close to her was killing her. The smile faded from her face when she remembered she wasn’t really privileged to this familiar feeling with the detective, and she stood up. “I—have to get back to work.” The counselor cleared her throat and looked down, “Be careful out there.” She mumbled and disappeared back into her office. She leaned up against the other side of the door, clutching her files to her chest and began to sob. The tears rolled down the file jackets as she tried to stifle her cries.

Fin and Elliot watched the exchange from the end of the hallway as Olivia stood frozen in place, broken. The brunette could hear Casey crying and it was destroying her. She knew this was her own doing, but she couldn’t stop herself from still being in love with Casey.

“Something going on with the lovebirds?” Finn looked at Elliot with uncertainty.

Elliot sighed and shook his head, “Liv called it off, Casey is devastated. I’m still trying to figure out what happened.”

“Awh shit, I was rootin’ for those two.” Finn said as the brunette walked up.

“Rooting for who?” The detective raised her eyebrow at her coworker as she approached, she pushed her jacket back to stuff her hands in her pockets.

“Uhh, Eddy Curry and Stephon Marbury, thought they were gonna take the lead in points this season.” Detective Tutuola spat out extemporaneously.

Liv pursed her lips together and nodded her head slowly as if she only half believed him. “We ready?”

*****

After meeting Mike at a diner he explained to them how the money laundering scheme for Casa Vega worked and how they get others to write checks for investments with sob stories and then pay the investor back with cash. After reviewing the list he recognized a name and decided to tag along for the questioning as a favor to Finn since he was familiar with the perp. Just as Mike had suspected she did in fact write checks to Casa Vega in exchange for cash but was more than willing to give up a name in exchange for lighter punishment for a family member doing time in Sing-Sing.

When they arrived at the apartment, Mike and Elliot kicked in the door. There was an eerie silence that is usually only found in an abandoned apartment.

“Guess no one’s home.” Mike shrugged as they began their sweep. “Senor Montoya! Policia!” He called out.

“Mr. Montoya! Police!” Liv called out behind him.

As they made it passed the threshold, Elliot peered over the couch to see a man and a woman lying face down, shot execution style. He leaned over to check for vitals. “Dead.”

Liv leaned over as well, “But not for long. The bodies are still warm.”

“In here!” Mike called out from the back of the residence.

Liv and El followed the sound of the narcotics detective’s voice to one of the bedrooms, where they found him standing next to a twin-sized bed. A small child lay with a pillow over their face. A gunshot burn visible in the pillow’s cover.

“Bastard kills a kid,” Mike said in horror, “doesn’t even have the balls to look at him.” He picked up the pillow to get a better view and assess the scene, revealing a small boy.

Liv looked away, but to everyone’s shock the child began to groan.

“He’s alive! Call a bus!” the narc exclaimed.

Stabler shook his head, “It’ll be faster if we take him in.” Mike nodded and scooped the child up and headed for the door.

*****

“Is he awake?” Liv asked after getting the all clear from the ER doctor that the child had survived. “We’d like to see him.”

The doctor nodded, “Right this way.”

Liv and Mike walked into the room quietly as possible, “Hey there,” she smiled at the little boy. “I’m Olivia, what’s your name?” she spoke softly.

The small child kept his face turned away from the detectives, fidgeting with his fingers nervously.

The brunette looked at her fellow detective as he stepped up next to her, “Maybe he doesn’t speak English? Why don’t you go ahead.”

“Hola.” Mike smiled, the boy hearing something familiar turned his head towards them. “Como te llamas?” The young child didn’t answer but rather stared blankly. The detective saw the chain around his neck and picked it up gently to examine it. “Ah, San Antonio. Es este tu santo?” to which the child nodded timidly. “His name is Antonio after the saint.” Mike told Liv and then smiled kindly at him.

“Antonio mi llamo Miguel, soy policia.” Sandoval placed his hand on his chest and leaned down to the boy.

Antonio looked at him in a panic, “Mi mama y papa?”

Mike kneeled down next to him, “Bueno, Antonio…tu mama y papa.”

“Papa Dios se los llevo al cielo.”

Mike turned to look at Liv, “He says God took them to heaven.”

Liv pursed her lips, “Ask him why?” she encouraged.

“Porque Papa Dios hiz eso?” the narc detective inquired.

“Para salvarles el dolar. Porque le hizo dano a mi mama y papa.” Antonio replied, still barely speaking above a whisper.

Mike translated for Olivia, “To save them their pain, he was hurting them. Quien Antonio?”

“El fantasma.” The boy answered.

Mike looked confused from the young boy to Liv, “He’s saying a ghost shot him…I think he’s still out of it.”

Liv’s beeper went off as he spoke, “Okay,” she sighs softly, “Stabler needs us at the ballistics lab.” She smiled empathetically at Antonio as she headed for the door.

Mike rubbed his arm, “Adios Antonio.”

*****

Stabler and O’Halloran already had quiet to compilation of evidence to present when Liv and Mike walked through the door. Elliot didn’t even wait for a greeting to start talking, “Ballistics results from the Montoya homicides, take a look.”

Liv squinted at the screen as Ryan began explaining what she was looking at, “On the left, the bullet taken from Mrs. Montoya. Three twists and a left groove. On the right, the slug taken from Mr. Montoya.”

The brunette looked at him slightly puzzled, “Same gun it would make sense that they’re identical?”

“Yeah,” O’Halloran murmured preoccupied, “Now look at this.”

“It’s a perfect match.” Mike chimed in, “Same triple twist, is that the bullet from Antonio’s bed?”

“No.” Ryan answered sternly, his face contorted in concentration. “From an unsolved homicide.”

“What case?” Liv asked?

Ryan pressed a button on his keyboard to pull up the case file and the brunette woman’s blood ran cold. There she was— in the photo that was on her city issued ID, the one sitting buried in the bottom of a box in Liv’s closet along her ADA badge, Alex Cabot. A face and a memory she tried hard to push down whenever someone brought her up, too painful to keep reliving. A twist of fate.

“The Murder of Alexandra Cabot.” Elliot said out loud. Liv still lost in a trance.

“Who’s that?” Mike asked as the beautiful woman did not seem familiar to him.

Liv stared at Alex’s picture for a few more seconds and finally opened her mouth to speak, “Our old ADA.” She couldn’t seem to wipe the shocked expression off her face.

*****

Casey stood in the doorway to her office as the three detectives walked past, she wanted to try and grab Liv if only for a second, try and talk. She kept holding out that whatever had a death grip on Liv would soften and that they could fix things. She had also heard about Antonio and wanted to check on the child. “Hey Liv,” she muttered quietly, “You got a sec.”

Olivia didn’t even stop to look at her, her face paler than Casey had ever seen it, “Maybe later Case, I can’t right now.” And continued towards the bullpen.

Casey looked towards Elliot, “What’s wrong with her? She looks like she’s seen a ghost?”

Elliot stopped and sighed, “Something like that. The bullets from the Montoya homicides? They match an open case. Cabot’s case.”

The redhead’s face softened, “Oh.” she said breathlessly. She didn’t know the specifics of it all, but she knew they were close. She was also quite fond of Alex herself, they were a few years apart at Harvard and she started White Collar around the time Alex started as the ADA for sex crimes. She’d like to think what they had was akin to friendship.

“We’ll talk in a bit kid.” He nodded at her and squeezed her shoulder as he headed off towards the squad room.

Cragen was already adding Alex to the crime board, “Alexandra Cabot was prosecuting a rapist who worked for Cesar Valez the Norco baron. Valez ordered the hit on Cabot and blew up D.E.A. agent Tim Donovan, who was working the case with us.” He looked towards Stabler.

Elliot picked up from here, “Ballistics match to the weapon used in the Cabot homicide is our link between Velez and the Brevet-Montoya murders.”

Liv felt like she was reliving the events of the Zapata case all over again. She wanted to vomit but instead cleared her throat to speak, “And we believe Elena and Jason Brevet embezzled a couple million dollars from Caser Velez. Sergio Montoya was working as their middleman. When Velez found out he was getting ripped off, he ordered the hit.”

Finn jumped in at this point, “And the hit man was good. He left zero forensic evidence at the Brevet and Montoya homicides.” He turned his eyes to Munch, giving him the signal it was his turn to contribute to this round robin rundown.

“Our best lead is the security footage from Brevet investments,” John stated, “We’ve excluded over two hundred employees, messengers and janitorial staff. We have about seventy-five subjects left to identify.”

“We got a lot of names,” the captain sighed staring at the board. “All the employees at Brevet Investments, everybody involved in the money laundering scheme. Somebody has got to connect back to the Cartel.”

The narc detective nodded as he soaked in all the information, “D.E.A. can help us out with that, their HIDTA computers are programmed to find links between cases.”

“Good.” Cragen retorted, “Get over to HIDTA. Run every name we got.” The captains eyes were somber as he looked over at two of his strongest detectives, he knew how close they were with Cabot. Hell, even he was warmhearted of the ADA. If they could finally get justice for her murder, he was going to make it happen.

“Yes sir.”

*****

After a brief visit to HIDTA Liv, Elliot and Mike almost left empty handed until upon leaving Mike mentioned that the person they were chasing really was a ghost.

The technician turned around and said, “What’d you say?”

“Our kid witness,” Mike nodded, “said a ghost killed his parents.”

The HIDTA tech tilted his head, “Did he say it in Spanish? El Fantasma?

“Why that mean something to you?” Liv asked as she pulled her jacket back on.

“El Fantasma. The Ghost. Contract Killer. Liam Connors.”

*****

Liv and Mike went back to visit Antonio again to make sure he could identify The Ghost if he were to see him again. He could, at least he was pretty sure he could. Upon learning this they headed out to meet Elliot and see if they could locate El Fantasma.

“Munch just got something,” Liv said snapping her phone closed and walking towards Stabler and Sandoval. “Rent-a-car parked in a loading zone outside Brevet Investments got a parking ticket late Friday night.”

“Liam Connors rented the car?” Elliot said as he turned around and headed towards the sedan.

“No,” the brunette shook her head, “it’s a Bronx guy by the name of Doyle Shanahan. Fundraisers for the IRA in bars around New York.” She opened the passenger door while Stabler jumped behind the wheel and Sandoval swiftly slid into the back seat.

“Where can we find him?” Mike inquired.

“Works in a warehouse downtown.” Liv stated buckling her seatbelt hastily. Her partner pulled out into traffic as they took off on a Ghost hunt. The three detectives burst into the warehouse to confront Shanahan, pressing him until he finally gave up Connors. While resistant, the minute he heard Connors had turned to the cartel he had no problem ratting him out.

“Fuel Depot. Over in Gowanus, on the canal.”

From there the race was on to capture Connors. The detectives sped to Jersey calling in backup along the way.

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” an ESU member yelled and slammed the door down with a battering ram.

As everyone rushed the building a man racing towards the stairs caught Liv’s attention. “Connors!” she called out to alert the team. Elliot and Mike took after the suspect on foot chasing him down along the canal as Benson jumped in the sedan. “We’re in pursuit of Liam Connors! Headed south along the canal! Headed south!” She hollered over the radio.

Liam managed to clock Stabler hard with a two by four knocking him off his feet and knocking the wind out of him before taking off. A miscalculated turn into a car lot got him jammed up as he was corned by Sandoval from one side and Olivia pulling up from the other in the sedan. Stabler catching his breath followed close behind and was able to with great satisfaction slap cuffs on Connors and place him under arrest.

*****

Connors was tossed into a line up where Antonio was able to identify him with ease. Afterwards Liam was taken to interrogation, he sat smug, convinced he was going home. Elliot smirked as he leaned down and let the Irishman know that they did have a witness and that he wasn’t quite as good at his job as he thought.

The idea was to arraign Connors as soon as humanely possible to keep him from hurting anyone else. Mike and Liv went pick up Antonio the next day from his relative’s on Staten Island to have him testify and get Liam on his way up to Riker’s before he even knew what hit him. Liv didn’t want to be bitter, but she was, she was reeling, knowing that Connor’s was the reason she lost Alex, but more presently the reason she’d have to see Casey in court. She’d have to see the hurt in the redhead’s eyes and on her face and she just wasn’t sure she could bare it.

****

“Where the hell have you been?” Casey snapped as Liv and Elliot rushed into the courthouse.

“Being shot at.” Liv said faintly yet vexed.

The redhead’s face immediately softened to an expression of distress. “What.” She managed to croak out?

“There was a drive-by attempt on Antonio, one of the bullets nicked Sandoval and we ended up at Mercy.” Elliot sighed.

The ADA’s face dropped as she tried not to let her eyes well up with tears, she turned towards her ex-girlfriend, “Olivia I’m sorry.” she said almost breathlessly.

“It’s fine Casey, you couldn’t have known.” Liv shook her head, “We better get inside.”

The prosecutor hurriedly pushed open the swinging doors to Trial Part 22 and ambled towards the prosecutor’s table.

Preston looked particularly perturbed as the ADA and detectives entered the courtroom. “You’re late Ms. Novak, its 3:15.”

Casey dropped her briefcase onto the table and took a deep breath, trying to sound as professional as possible. “I’m sorry your honor I was in the Grand Jury. They just indicted the defendant on all counts.”

Kressler scoffed, “Fifteen minutes too late.”

“There was an attempt on the eyewitness’ life. I think witness tampering is grounds for an extension.” The ADA rolled her eyes at the defense.

Kressler threw his hands up in protest, “My client’s been on Rikers. He didn’t shoot anyone. And I’m betting you don’t have any proof of his involvement.” He wagged his finger condescendingly.

“So its just a coincidence Antonio Montoya was shot at on his way to testify against the defendant?” Casey argued, her lip curled in mild annoyance.

The opposing counsel chuckled and shook his head, “You can call it whatever you like. You still can’t connect Mr. Connors to the shooting of your witness.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Novak. I can’t grant an extension without proof of the defendant’s complicity in the shooting. The people have failed to meet the deadline. I’m ordering the defendant released until the trial.” Preston said apologetically as she banged her gavel.

Connors nodded happily with a smirk that only a guilty man could wear.

Casey slammed her hand down on the table, “Your honor Conners is a flight risk. If you let him go we will never get him back.”

“I give you my word my client will make all of his court appearances.”

“I would like something stronger than his word.” Casey retorted. Connors watched her with a clenched jaw as she demanded Preston hold him.

“I’m sorry. You’re free to go Mr. Connors.” The judge said bluntly with a bang of the gavel.

The defendant stood up and shook Kressler’s hand as Liv and Elliot hung their heads in disappointment. Elliot nodded and stood up. The ADA looked sternly at her friend, “Arrest him.” She spat out. Connors looked over in shock. “Your honor, my detectives are here to re-arrest the defendant.” The redhead stated with confidence.

“On what charges?” Kressler exclaimed incredulously.

Casey looked Preston dead in the face, “The murder of Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot.” Stabler’s face dropped as he looked over at Olivia with panic.

“Your honor this is a blatant attempt to unlawfully detain my client!” Roger protested.

“Save it counselor, Alex Cabot was a friend of mine. I’ll see you both at arraignments.” Preston stood up and exited to her chambers.

The redhead nodded at Judge Preston then shot Kressler a look as if to let him know she had his ass in a sling.

Elliot snarled as him and Olivia stepped forward to cuff Connors. He scoffed at them, “You can’t prove I killed her, and the dead can’t talk.”

*****

“What the hell are you people doing?” Agent Hammond demanded as he stormed into Cragen’s office.

Don turned around when he heard the familiar voice, “Agent Hammond, most people knock first.” he said slyly.

“You should’ve called me before your detectives arrested Liam Connors for the murder of Alex Cabot.” Hammond growled.

The captain stepped towards the marshal, his patience wore thin. “Connors blew up one of you agents! I didn’t expect flowers, but I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Connor’s goes to trial,” he scoffed, “I’m called to testify. What am I supposed to do?”

“Your job.”

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I just came to tell you that you’re on your own. I’m not gonna ruin my career by committing perjury.” Hammond shook his head, eyes narrowed on Cragen. “Do we understand each other Captain?”

Cragen tilted his head, perplexed but then a sudden realization hit him, “She’s alive. You son of a bitch, you stashed Alex in witness protection.”

Casey was on her way to Cragen’s office as he voiced this to the older agent. She stopped in her tracks and leaned up against the wall outside the door, her heart pounded, her head got dizzy. She felt like she was going to be sick or pass out, while it was never confirmed she felt like she lived in Alex’s shadow—both at work and with Olivia. She stood there for a moment and continued to listen.

“You didn’t know.” Hammond said in shock, “They didn’t tell you.”

The ADA didn’t even wait for Cragen to come out of his office and blow a gasket, she was going to blow it for him. She stormed down the hall as Elliot and Liv were coming back from getting lunch, “You and you.” She jerked her head motioning at each of them, “MY office, now.”

Both detectives stopped in there tracks and looked at each other confused.

“NOW.” The redhead reiterated and urged them to follow her. “What the hell were you two thinking, you hung me out to dry out there. We work together, you should’ve trusted me,” Casey closed the door to her office as she scolded Elliot. “And we—” she looked at Liv and started to choke up, “you should’ve told me.” she said quietly. “What did you think I was too green? Too fragile to understand? Did you think you needed to protect me from that too?” Her voice began to strain.

“Hey c’mon Case, let’s not do this?” Elliot tried to mediate.

Casey bit her lip and nodded before running her tongue over it to self soothe and walked to grab some files off her desk.

Liv hung her head, she knew the ADA was right.

“I’m going to need both of you back in here first thing tomorrow so we can figure out a way out of this mess you’ve created and dragged me into.”

“Case—I’m” Liv started to reach out.

“Save it, just be here tomorrow. I’ll do my best to save all of our asses.” Casey shook her head in annoyance. She turned her body and brushed passed the brunette as she left her own office in search of Cragen.

*****

Cragen and Hammond pulled up in a small beater car to a quaint house on a quiet block. Wisconsin was so—suburban. As the two men got out of the sedan and approached the door, Cragen went to knock, only for the door to swing open and a familiar face to greet him.

“What happened?” Alex Cabot asked, her blue eyes and face furrowed in concern. She ushered the men inside as Hammond did another quick sweep to make sure they weren’t followed.

After giving his old friend a brief synopsis of what had transpired in court the day before, he looked at her and exhaled, “I’m only sorry the bastard won’t have to answer for what he did to you.”

“Oh, he will.” The blonde stated without even skipping a beat. “I want him charged with my attempted murder.” Her eyes searched for a reaction from Hammond.

“You’d have to go back to testify, that’s stepping right into the crosshairs.” The marshal protested.

“For years,” Alex cut him off, “I convinced victims to face their attackers. Now its time for me to step up.” She emphasized.

“Your testimony won’t help the case, you can’t ID Connors as your shooter.” Cragen interjected with growing concern. “Alex—if you go back, they will try and kill you again.”

The stunning attorney’s mouth hung agape a moment before she spoke, now in a softer, much less argumentative tone, “I have lost—my home, my job, my friends.” Her voice cracked— because what she wasn’t saying was that she also lost her love. “My mother died, and I couldn’t go to the funeral. Liam Connors is not going to take my conscience too.”

*****

Elliot sighed, “Are we gonna need lawyers?” He paced back and forth nervously in Casey’s office the next morning. He had no idea how to get them out of this, he’d stayed up all night racking his brain and couldn’t come to a single conclusion.

“I hope not,” the redhead said picking up some case files from her desk. She smirked and looked towards the door as it opened.

Liv and Elliot turned around to find a familiar face smiling back at them.

“Alex.” Liv whispered. Casey’s gut jolted, she knew that tone, but by G-d she wished she didn’t.

Elliot smiled in surprise, “You didn’t have to come back.” He looked between her and the Marshal behind her.

“Well who else is gonna get you out of trouble,” the blonde grinned and folded her arms.

The redhead sighed, scooping up a mountain full of paperwork, “Before everyone gets reacquainted they’re waiting for us in court.” As she walked out Elliot studied her mannerisms, there was something different. He could tell as sad as she was about Olivia there was something that shifted in the young ADA’s body language when Alex entered the room. Elliot smirked softly to himself.

*****

Later on that afternoon, after Liam Connor’s had been reindicted on attempted murder as opposed to murder one, Antonio and Detective Sandoval sat in Casey’s office across from her and the office’s former resident—Alex.

“I’m really scared,” Antonio said shakily, “I don’t want to see The Ghost. He gives me bad dreams, he says he’s going to kill me.”

“He had a nightmare last night,” Mike frowned. “The Ghost had a gun in the courtroom.”

Both Alex and Casey cast an empathetic gaze on the small child. Casey pursed her lips and nodded at Antonio as the blonde listened intently. “Well, that sounds like a really scary dream.” The younger ADA said gently to the little boy.

Alex watched her intently, her mind wandering to how caring Casey was with the child. She must have fit it instantly with SVU, she’s got a knack for this.

The redhead turned towards her and smiled sweetly, almost searching for approval as she spoke, caught off guard at the way Alex watched her. “But, you know what Antonio? The ghost doesn’t have a gun anymore. ‘Cause the police took it away from him.” The older woman immediately tore her blue eyes away when they locked with Casey’s and focused back on Antonio.

“I know,” the little boy said in a small, sad voice. “Mike told me—but I still don’t want to go to court.”

Casey bit her lip nervously, there was no shot of this case going forward without Antonio’s testimony, but she had no idea how to convey that without unfairly voicing her frustrations to the young boy.

Alex took a deep breath, “I got shot, just like you.”

The younger ADA stared at the former counselor in awe, the way she had just been perceived by her a few moments before.

“By the ghost?” Antonio crumpled his brow.

“Yes.” The blonde nodded, “And I have to go to court too.”

“Are you scared?”

Alex smiled reassuringly, “A little. I get scared that he might try and hurt me again. But then I remember that I have friends to protect me, just like you do,” she nodded her head towards Sandoval, “and it makes me feel safe.”

“I wish my mom was here.” The boy looked down at floor, melancholic.

Mike frowned, “I’ll keep working with him. Come on, ‘Tonio.” He led the boy by the shoulder out of Casey’s office.

Casey took a deep breath and raised her eyebrows at Alex in shared frustration as closed the door and turned around.

“We should keep preparing my testimony.” The slightly older woman nodded, a far off look in her eyes.

The redhead should her head assuredly, “You know, we’ve gone over all my questions. I think you’re ready.” She knew Alex had to be exhausted and pushing too far could end up burning her out rather than helping.

Alex looked up as she snapped out of her daze and looked directly into Casey’s hazel green eyes, “Are you?” She said, more pointedly than she intended.

The counselor let out a small breathy scoff, her eyes grew a little dimmer, as she tried not to let it show that she was hurt. After all, she’d always looked up to Alex. Instead she opted to tilt her head and give the blue-eyed woman a knowing smile, as if to say I won’t let them hurt you.

The blonde’s face softened, she grimaced, “Casey I’m sorry. That was…out of line.”

“It must be hard to be on that side of the desk.” Casey nodded for a few seconds and then voiced softly. She tilted her head empathetically at the blonde.

“Yeah, especially when the gorgeous woman they hired to replace me is sitting on the other side of it.” She smiled, “and from what I hear she’s just as good at the job if not better.” She took her glasses down from her face and looked at the redhead.

Casey was blushing, trying not show that she was flustered, and failing miserably at it. “I—thank you Alex, that’s sweet.”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel yet, do you mind if we just pretend we’re still working?” Alex came and sat down next to her on the sofa leaning on her elbow, positioned against the back of the sofa.

“Hey fine by me,” the redhead pulled out a bottle of scotch from next to the couch and placed it on the table with two glasses, “You drink?”

“No,” Alex shook her head, “Pour me a double.” She smirked. “So, do you like Special Victim’s? Last I heard you were in White Collar right?” she asked picking up the glass and taking a sip.

“It’s growing on me,” Casey chuckled, coddling the glass between her hands. “My first case made me try to fight Branch on the placement.” She pulled her feet up onto the couch underneath her. “But then…” she trailed off.

“Then? Well don’t leave me hanging.” The blonde teased.

“I met someone, and that helped make it easier—for a while.” Casey’s expression got sad, the emotion in her voice, raw.

“What happened?” Alex spoke softly, almost in a whisper, a note of concern in her tone.

“She left me,” the redhead cleared her throat, “suddenly too. No warning, I thought we were happy, but something spooked her. She said she was afraid she couldn’t promise me a future. Something about a switch that might flip,” Casey’s voice trailed off as she stared into nothing, “I never did quite figure out what she meant by that.” She finished the whiskey in her tumbler and poured another, offering another to Alex.

“Was it serious?” Alex was staring into the younger ADA’s green eyes, trying not to focus on the attractive woman’s lips as she spoke.

“I thought it was, I almost thought she might’ve been the one.” She took a sip and shrugged. “But then I came home one day to her key on the counter and her toothbrush missing from the bathroom. I was so in love with her,” she paused, “but I never found a way to tell her.” She swallowed off the rest of the glass and put it down on the table. “I should probably not drink anymore of that tonight.”

“For what it’s worth Casey, whoever this woman is? Her loss. You’re a beautiful woman, a talented litigator, and if I have to hear Elliot tell me how good at softball you are one more time I’m going to beg them to stash me back in witsec.” She giggled, a little tipsy and put her glass down on the table next to Casey’s. She leaned forward and brushed the redhead’s hair away from her face. “You’ll find someone who will treat you the way you deserve.”

Before Casey even realized what she was doing she leaned in and kissed Alex, who leaned into it kissing her back. It went from soft and delicate to heated in a matter of seconds. Alex pushed the younger woman back against the couch and wrapped her hand around the back of her neck, kissing her feverishly, pulling at her lip. Whiskey and sin between them. She knew there was a security detail outside of the door, so she tried her best not to breath too loudly. She slid her fingers down into Casey’s slacks and started to tease her, rubbing her over her underwear as the redhead tried to stifle the sighs and gasps.

“Alex,” she whispered, “we shouldn’t.” Her heart and her brain told her this was a terrible idea, but her body had already made its decision. “Oh, Alex.” She pulled the blonde’s lower lip, smirking as she dragged her teeth across. “Mmm.” Her head was spinning.

The blue-eyed attorney melted at the way Casey said her name, a name she hadn’t heard in so long. She was about to take the encounter further when there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, it’s Liv I’m just making sure everything is still okay in there.”

“We’re fine,” Alex called out “just finishing up some last-minute testimony questions.”

“Okay great, just let me know when you’re ready.” The brunette called through the door.

Casey’s body language changed the minute she heard it was Liv at the door. She felt sick. A wave of guilt washed over her. They weren’t together but her heart still belonged to Olivia.

“Hey you okay?” Alex looked at her, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” The ADA tried to play it off but almost immediately grabbed the trashcan and hurled into it. “Oh god this is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry Alex.”

“Hey, hey, shhh another time.” She rubbed the redhead’s back, “are you…okay? You didn’t really drink that much. You were fine until—was it something I did? I’m sorry you kissed me, and I got carried away.” She blushed.

“No, no Alex it wasn’t anything you did, you’re wonderful.” She glanced at the door and then down at the trashcan. When she leaned over the small gold chain fell loose from her shirt.

Alex squinted and then it clicked, and the blonde’s face tempered. She sighed and looked at Casey sympathetically, “It was Liv, wasn’t it?”

The redhead looked up at her bleary eyed, head still over the trash, “I—don’t know where it went wrong. And I’m so sorry, I just ruined the moment. I find you very attractive, I just heard her voice and…”

“Hey, it’s okay, another lifetime maybe.” She consoled and held her to her chest. “You’re still in love with her aren’t you?”

“It’d be so much easier if I wasn’t.” the redhead sobbed.

“I get it, I was in love with her once too. She’s hard to get over.” Alex said, rubbing her hand up and down Casey’s arm. “But back then we were both deep in the closet and then I ended up in witness protection, so it all ended up a very depressing moot point.”

“I always figured there was something between you two, she wouldn’t talk about it. Then again I thought you were dead, so I never pushed.” She gave a halfhearted laugh.

Casey stepped away for a minute into the ensuite bathroom to get herself cleaned up and brush her teeth, mouthwash, etc.

When she came out she found Alex leaning next to the door. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am really sorry for ruining the evening.” The redhead furrowed her brow and frowned.

Alex put her hands on her waist and pulled her close until their faces were almost touching. “If you ever find yourself in another lifetime, I hope you’ll think of me.” She laid a gentle kiss on Casey’s lips and then pressed her forehead to the younger woman’s.

“Could be a while?” the redhead joked and gave a half-hearted smirk.

“Something tells me it’s worth the wait.”

*****

“I wish these windows opened, I want to smell the city.” Alex whined as she looked out on to the financial district below.

Liv chuckled, “You mean the, uh, rotting garbage and diesel exhaust.”

The blonde craned her neck and rolled it against her shoulders, it was hard to keep to her voice from breaking, “Wisconsin is so quiet at night. Sometimes when I get homesick, I hum the Mister Softee song.” She pouted as a small smile crept across her face.

The brunette laughed through her nose and scrunched her mouth to the side. She leaned her back against the large glass window and looked at Alex. It had been a very long time since she had seen her at all let alone like that, her guard down, without the power suit armor she wore to court—just sweatpants and a soft top. Olivia stared at the strands of hair that fell and framed her ex-lover’s face, everything about it familiar. She started to tear up, both out of a sense of what they had once and out of shock that in that moment when it would be so easier to fall back into past patterns—all she could think about was Casey.

“Well—you making any friends?” Liv asked quietly, her voice pained.

Alex grimaced and let out a sad chuckle. “There’s a claims adjuster, at the insurance agency where I work. We’ve been seeing each other.”

Liv smiled, her levies in her eyes were about to breach. “Good.” She whispered.

“He’s a good man, he thinks I’m from Tulsa. And when we’re in bed at night he whispers my name… ‘Emily’” her blue eyes turned down to the floor.

“It’s hard being someone you’re not,” Liv placed her hand on Alex’s arm.

The blonde turned her attention away from the window towards the brunette and let out a frustrated sigh, “Olivia, what are you doing?”

Liv pulled her hand away, “I’m sorry I wasn’t trying anything.”

Alex chuckled, “That’s not what I meant, I meant what are you doing?” The detective looked at her puzzled. “That girl is crazy about you. You know that right?”

The brunette hung her head, her voice got quiet, “I know that.” She looked up into Alex’s familiar blue eyes, “How is it you know that?”

“I haven’t been gone so long that I don’t know how to read people. The amount of pain in Casey’s eyes when she heard your voice outside that door. Olivia you broke her heart. What I don’t get, is why?”

“Things just don’t work out sometimes.” Liv shook her head and looked down at the floor.

“That’s a load of crap Olivia and you know it,” she put her hands on Liv’s shoulders and leaned down in attempt to get her to look up at her, “Hey, look at me. Why don’t you just tell her the truth? Tell her why you’re so afraid.” Both her and the brunette had tears in their eyes. “You know you’re not broken right? Olivia there isn’t an evil bone in your body.”

The brunette had tears freely falling now, “You don’t know that. I want to believe that, but I can’t stop thinking, what if we had kids? I know she wants them, we’ve talked about it. What would I pass on? What if something snaps in me and I hurt her or our potential child? It’s safer to break her heart now.” She wiped her tears away and shook her head.

“Liv, you are not your genetics, you and I have proved that in court time and time again. Don’t miss a chance at happiness over this.” She hugged her and kissed her forehead holding her lips there for a few seconds, “Or because of anything else.” She whispered.

“I’ll always love you Alex and I hope that you and I will always be a part of each other’s lives,” her voice cracked as she spoke, “but Casey, I’m so in love with her and I’m afraid it’s way too late. I really screwed up.”

“It’s not Liv, trust me.” She pulled her into a tight hug. “And I’ll always love you too and will always be your friend. No matter what.” They embraced for a while until Alex pulled back and looked at Liv caringly, “Tell her.”

“Thanks Alex. We need to get some sleep because tomorrow is a big day.” She kissed Alex softly, it wasn’t a pass, it was just a thank you for being you. “I’ll take the couch.”

The blonde stopped in the bedroom doorway and looked behind her, “By the way not only can I read body language, but I also know your badge number, Benson. She’s still wearing it.”

The next morning Alex was up before the sun, pacing around, trying not to break out in a sweat. Her nerves were definitely getting the better of her. In her furious pace she accidentally bumped the table which clanked her spoon in her coffee cup. Liv shot up on the couch gun in hand.

“Sorry,” the blonde grimaced, “Just me. I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

The detective bolstered her weapon and rubbed her eyes, “You okay?”

“No,” Alex shook her head, “I can’t stop thinking like a prosecutor.” She took a deep, ragged breath, “Connors is going to sit in that courtroom tomorrow, looking like a choir boy.”

Liv shook her head in agreement.

“He’s going to charm the jury with his Irish brogue, and—and I have to make them see who he really is. But—” She buried her face in her hands and then threw them up in exasperation and Liv walked over to her bag. “I don’t even know what makes him tick!”

“Alex—” the brunette handed the blonde a DD-5, “you didn’t see this file.”

****

Casey tried to maintain her composure as she questioned Alex on the witness stand, trying not to think about the fact that twelve hours ago the blonde was sliding one of the delicate hands, now neatly folded in her lap, down the front of her slacks. “Finally, Ms. Cabot,” she locked on to blue eyes, placing her hand gently on the corner of the witness box, “would you describe to the jury what happened after you were shot.”

Alex searched Casey, not able to maintain eye contact, her eyes traveled to her chest, what she would have given to listen to her heartbeat for just another minute. She tried to regain her composure, her eyes now searched the redhead’s full lips as she spoke. “I woke up in the hospital,” she started finally staring back into the ADAs hazel green eyes, “The marshals were there. They told me that I was dead, officially, and that the only way they could keep me alive was in Witness Protection.”

“Thank you,” Casey smiled, trying not to give in to Alex’s stare. “Your witness.” Her face dropped as she turned towards Kessler.

“That sounds like quite an ordeal,” Roger said as he stood up, “I think we’re all very moved by your experience.”

“Do you have a question?” Alex annunciated and practically rolled her eyes at her old sparring partner.

“Only one.” Kressler spat back, “Did you see my client shoot you?”

“I saw his gun aimed at my heart.”

“Please Ms. Cabot, just answer the question.” She could hear Kressler tell her this, but her eyes were locked on Connors. His eyes deadpan, lifeless stared back. “On the night you were shot, did you see Liam Connors anywhere near the vicinity?”

“No but he’s a coward. He likes to run away.” She smirked, she knew exactly what she was doing, it was like something reignited in her blood, a second nature. “Did you leave a family behind in Ireland, Mr. Connors?” The volume of her voice spiked.

“Your honor—” Roger voiced in displeasure.

“Ms. Cabot, please.” Preston urged her to stop.

“You have absolutely no idea who shot you, do you?” Kressler’s tone started getting aggressive.

Casey furrowed her brow at Alex—What the hell is she doing, gunning for a mistrial? Don’t blow this Cabot.

“Oh, I have an idea. It’s the kind of man who likes to rape a woman to make her talk.” The former prosecutor retorted, Liam’s face contorted in anger.

“Let me rephrase, did you see Liam Connors shoot you?” Roger stepped forward putting emphasis on each word as he spoke.

“No but I know it was him.” Her teeth gritted.

“Objection your honor!”

“It takes a lot of balls to shoot an unarmed woman and a sleeping child! Too bad your aim wasn’t a little better.”

Liam stood up, his rage bubbled over, “You think you’re safe? They know where you are! You should’ve stayed dead!” he shouted as four court officers wrestled him back into his chair.

“Enough!” Preston raised her voice, “We’re in recess until Mr. Kressler can control his client. You may step down Ms. Cabot.”

Casey’s eyes went back and forth between Connors and Alex, she smirked at Alex’s mad grab and how she couldn’t believe it actually worked. Hammond jumped up to follow Alex out of the courtroom.

*****

Casey closed her eyes and held her breath as the verdict came back. A smile spread across her face as all counts came back guilty. Relief weighed heavy on Alex as she heard Liam Connors convicted on her attempted murder, something he had said earlier gave her the weary feeling that this wasn’t over.

*****

Elliot wrapped his arm around Novak as they walked down the hallway with everyone on the way to celebrate the conviction in her office.

“Guilty on all counts.” She smiled quietly, she was proud of herself even if she knew the tipping point was actually the stunt Alex pulled.

Stabler could still the sadness in her eyes surrounding recent events, “I never doubted it would be anything else.” He smiled at her like an impressed older sibling, she smiled back, thankful for him as he steered her into her office.

“Let’s get this party started.” Liv smiled as she came through the other door holding two bottles of champagne and handed one to Mike.

“Ooh, that’s what I’m talking about,” He smiled and brought the bottle over to the desk to crack it open.

Liv looked over at Elliot and Casey laughing and teasing each other. She missed the fiery redhead, the way she smelled after a shower, the way it felt to hold her against her chest after a long day, the way her kiss tasted.

“Alex knew just how to push Connors’ buttons,” Cragan brought her back from her thoughts.

“She’s a great prosecutor.” The brunette shrugged, nonchalant.

“And you gave her the ammunition.” He said softly.

She was taken aback by his comment and stayed silent as Mike handed her a glass of champagne.

“Don’t let me drink too much,” Casey teased Elliot, “Penalty face starts first thing in the morning.”

“Slam dunk,” Stabler waved her off, “Live a little tonight.” He heard a noise from the hallway, “Is that her? Is that her?” He said in a hushed but excited tone.

Everyone held up there champagne to toast Cabot as she walked through the door, smiles on all of their faces. Casey tried to quickly make herself more presentable, maybe with all of this behind them, she could see if Alex wanted to try again, maybe this time without the crying and the throwing up into the trashcan. However, smiles quickly turned to confusion as the only person who came through the door was Agent Hammond.

“Where’s Alex?” Liv asked, a sullen tone in her voice.

“Marshals are moving her and Antonio to new identities. She asked me to say goodbye.” His eyes moved from Liv unto Casey. The only person Alex had actually asked him to say goodbye to.

The redhead chewed her lip nervously as nodded, she understood the weight behind his look. As everyone turned to each other in shock he made another eye motion from Casey to her office couch. She furrowed her brow, this one she was unsure about. The nights festivities continued however bittersweetly.

“Goodnight,” the ADA sighed as Elliot hugged her and was the last one out the door. She closed it behind him and flopped back onto the couch only to jolt forward again. Her back had hit something hard, and it startled her, for a second she panicked that she may have become the new target of Connors’ and the cartel. She reached back behind the pillow and put her hand on something smooth and glass. Upon pulling it out, she found it was a significantly sized bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label with a note attached.

Casey crinkled her forehead and tilted her head in curiosity as she opened the note which read: “For another lifetime. -A”

She couldn’t help but smirk, “Maybe so, Cabot. Maybe so.” She smiled to herself and held the note to her chest when the door swung open. The redhead sat up startled to find a distressed Olivia “Really Poor Timing” Benson standing in her doorway, one hand palming the doorframe, the other hand palming the handle.

“Can we talk?”

27 notes · View notes

nicolovesutoo · 7 months ago

Text

Satoru x Suguru - STARBOY

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Themes: Meeting at a nightclub, bartender Suguru and rich boy Satoru, love at first sight

FLUFF: 1,023 words ⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Suguru was a simple man with a simple routine: Shower, Eat breakfast, Attend college classes, Finish homework, and then Go to work. He has had this routine for over 2 years, it was ingrained in him. He was the type of person who needed a schedule, he couldn’t function without one. Working at Club STARLIGHT wasn’t on his bucket list, but it paid well. His friend got him the job after hearing him vent about his asshole manager at the last bar he worked at. At this job though, Suguru could wear what he wanted as long as it was all black and his hours were flexible.

Tonight at STARLIGHT, though, made him take multiple shots of espresso to the head. He had been up since 9 AM to finish a class project and went to work at noon… it was now 10 PM. He was covering a shift for Shoko because she had night classes and had covered his shift last week because he was sick. His least favorite thing to pour was beer, mostly because of the strong smell that it produced.

Dressed in black button-down and blue jeans, he poured a beer for a female patron before cleaning a wine glass. The music was blaring and the DJ was shit tonight, he looked like he was pretending to know what he was spinning. The remixes made no sense, like, “Who mixes ‘Blue’ and ‘Despacito’??” He thought, rolling his eyes and yawning before drying the wine glass. The theme for the night was ‘Christmas in São Paulo’, but he didn’t understand it either. The vote on the theme was held by his coworkers at 4 PM on Wednesday like clockwork. He tied his long black hair into a ponytail and listened to other people’s conversations.

A certain man caught his eye though, he stood out like a sore thumb but in a good way. His white hair was messy and he was dressed in a blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, black pants, and black dress shoes. He was laughing and chatting it up with the other male patrons that Suguru had seen around more than once. These men spent a lot of money in one night; their checks usually racked up to $600+. They were important businessmen who, when they were drunk enough, wanted to buy a little bit more than just a drink. But Suguru always declined and called a cab for the men, even when they weren’t bothering him.

The man with the white hair and pale skin approached the bar, sitting right in front of him. He had an expensive watch on his right arm and his tinted round glasses barely covered his bright blue eyes. The man had the smile of an angel but the appearance of a sly devil. He spoke gently to Suguru, the man was sober.

“Hi there, Mr..?” He asked, gesturing towards Suguru. They didn’t wear name tags here.

“My name is Suguru.” He answered, coming closer to the bar and leaning over to talk to the man. Surprisingly they were of equal height. “What can I do for you?”

The man looked him up and down before flashing a smile and lowering his glasses, “Well my name is Satoru, and can you make me a Hennessy on the rocks?”

Suguru nodded and turned away from him, going to make the drink. Usually, Suguru would be the one making the conversation with the patron but Satoru carried it. He talked all about his job working at this fashion company named, ‘KAIZEN.CO’, how he was the future CEO because of his father.

Suguru didn’t come from a rich family like Satoru did. Sure they were well off but not designer well off. When he handed him the drink the man’s hand lingered on his for a bit, longer than needed, before taking away the drink. Satoru took a sip from the drink and gave him a thumbs up, signaling that he did a good job. He handed him the check, the drink coming out to $20. He paid in cash, placing down a $100 bill and telling Suguru that it was his tip before winking. He wrote something down on the check before walking away to his buddies, a man with blonde hair and another with brown hair.

Suguru raised an eyebrow before picking up the check and reading what the man had written. He had written his number and told him to ‘Call him <;’. He scoffed before sticking the receipt in his back pocket and finishing his job.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

He went home at midnight, completing a 12-hour shift, and was ready to pass out. When he lay on his bed, however, he sighed and thought about the man who took an interest in him. Without consulting his friends, he took the receipt out of his back pocket and dialed the man’s number into his phone. He put it on speaker and waited anxiously for him to answer, his heart dropping a bit while it rang.

When he answered the phone, his voice sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up, “Hello..? Who’s this?” He asked with a yawn.

Suguru hesitated before speaking into the phone, “It’s Suguru, the man you asked to call you..”

He could hear the man scrambling around, knocking some things over while cursing under his breath. He heard something ‘click’ before Satoru spoke again, “I was hoping you would call! If you aren’t busy tomorrow, well today, I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Suguru asked, laughing a bit while the man on the other line scrambled for words.

“W-Well yeah! If that’s what you want to call it, I mean you don’t have to that’s totally chill, like we can keep talking–”

“There’s this nice cafe on 5th street named ‘ANGELS’. Meet me there at 10 AM?” He asked him, ending the rambling.

He felt him smiling on the other end before answering, “Yes, I’d love to.”

“See you then.” He said before hanging up the phone and telling him goodnight.

(I'm also on AO3: ily__nico)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk geto #geto suguru #not beta read #bartender #fanfic #mlm

23 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

Text

Running from the Flames {6}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, a punch is thrown - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || under construction

“Pierre, the rumours are that you are now dating Brianna Vowles. That must be quite the change from the models you have been romantically linked to in the past.”

This was the beginning. The very first reporter.

Paulo looked at me and gave an apologetic smile.

“What do you have to say?” the reporter probed when Pierre said nothing.

“I’m sorry, was there a question in there?”

The crowd laughed and the tension evaporated as they moved on to the next reporter with a reminder to keep the questions in relation to the teams and race day.

I thought we had gotten away lightly but the last reporter didn’t care about the rules as much as the others who had asked about tactics and confidence levels going into the race. He held up a picture of a birth certificate and I leaned closer as I recognised both him and the name on the certificate.

“What the fuck?” I growled as I rose to my feet and sat Addie down on the chair. “Can you watch her?”

I didn’t wait for an answer as I stormed my way through the paddock to where the interviews were. I never heard the question he asked but a silence fell over the crowd as I rounded the corner in time to see Pierre vault off the stage and into the media area.

“Pierre!” I screamed trying to get his attention but he was busy making his way to Trent Gordon who was still holding a copy of Adelaide’s birth certificate. A few cameras turned my way as I followed but most were still focused on Pierre and the angry words he was having with Trent.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Pierre growled as he shoved Trent.

“No problem here,” Trent laughed as he kept the paper up high for all the cameras to photograph. “I just want to expose the truth. See this line, it says Father: Unknown.”

I finally made it through the crowd and ripped the page from his hands. “There’s a permanent restraining order forbidding you from coming near me or my family, Trent. Get the hell out of here before I call the police.”

He scoffed and looked innocently at the people around him. “Maybe we should call them, tell them what a liar you are. You do know it’s illegal to lie on government documents, right. And we both know that Adelaide Mirabella Vowles’ father is Erik Sorensen.”

I felt sick as he publicly announced something that had been kept quiet for almost three years. Erik may have fathered a child but I never wanted him to know about it, not after what he did. And now the news would spread like wildfire, no doubt reaching Brixton Penitentiary where Erik was serving his 10 year sentence.

My hands clenched into fists as the man in front of me smiled and all the rage I had thought had disappeared over the years came back in a tidal wave. I didn’t even feel the impact or see my hands move, but I heard the collective gasp as my fist broke Trent’s nose before I was whisked away.

“Fuck, fuck, are you okay, ma cherie?” Pierre asked as he picked me up when my feet refused to walk and I wrapped my legs around his waist, burying my face in his neck.

“I just wanted to keep her safe from that monster.” The tears spilled over as I realised I failed her. “I can’t let him ruin her too.”

“You’re not ruined,” he promised as he brushed my hair back and wiped my tears away. “Hear me, you’re not ruined.”

He carefully set me down on a bench and I looked around to see we were in the drivers room. Otmar filled the doorway behind him, a sheen of sweat on his face like he had run from his principal interview.

“Can you watch Addie please? I just need a few minutes.”

He nodded, his worry increasing at the catch in my voice. “Your dad’s already on his way.”

The door closed silently behind him and I looked at my shaking fist. I had never actually punched someone before and I never wanted to again. I hadn’t been able to control the rage that had come over me and I wondered if that made me as bad as Erik.

I was fixated on my knuckles, the bruise and swelling quickly forming before my eyes. Then the pain began, a worsening throb that spread across my hand and tore a whimper from my lips.

Pierre gently uncurled my fingers and saw the swelling, swearing under his breath before he tore his shirt over his head. The ripple of muscles distracted me and I watched as he opened a wheelie bin to see it was full of ice water. He scooped out a handful of cubes and wrapped them in his shirt before taking my hand and placing it carefully on top.

“That was one hell of a right hook,” he said softly, but there was definitely a sense of pride in his words.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m already going to be in enough trouble.”

“He deserved it, and more, for what he's done.”

Pierre stepped between my legs so he could wrap his arms around me and I was lost to the comfort of his embrace as well as the rich tones of his cologne. It was an all encompassing feeling of security when he held me like this and I knew at that moment that I wanted more from him.

I peered up at him from under my lashes. “Are you sure you want to get tangled in all this drama? I mean, you should be concentrating on your race but instead you’re charging into the media like a damn white knight to my rescue.”

From the sparkle in his eyes he took pride in the title and dropped a lopsided grin. “It won’t always be like this, the reporters get bored and things settle down. But, I like you, Bri, and I’m already invested in seeing where this goes. So, unless that’s not what you want…”

“I want it,” I rushed before biting my lip and willing my racing heart to relax and repeated it a little more calmly. “I want this, Pierre.”

I ran my hands over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the soft curls beneath my palms and he stilled, barely breathing, as he let me take my time and explore him. His heart was a steady thrum against my hand but the pulse at his neck raced the higher I reached.

I followed the curve of his collarbone and draped my arms around his neck so I could run my fingers through the strands of his hair, marvelling at how soft it was. With the courage I lacked only two days ago, I pulled him closer and his eyes traced over my face, silently asking if I was ready.

I nodded and closed the distance.

His lips had to be a drug because with one taste I was addicted. I no longer needed air, I would happily just breathe him in. My lips parted for him and my fingers tangled in his hair as I welcomed the kiss that chased away the pain in my hand and set my body on fire.

“Just friends, huh?”

“Putain de merde,” Pierre swore as he spun around to face the intruder only to blanche at the sight.

“Dad!” I dropped my hands from Pierre and cleared my throat. “Um, I’m assuming you two know each other.”

“Monsieur Vowles,” Pierre recovered and held out his hand to my dad.

“Pierre,” dad said coldly, shaking it once before crossing his arms again. “May I have a moment with my daughter?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” He went to a narrow door along the wall and grabbed a fresh shirt out, quickly pulling it over his head before squeezing through the doorway that my dad didn’t move from with an apology.

“A bit childish don’t you think?” I muttered as dad finally stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

He didn’t even give me a small chuckle, letting me know what kind of mood he was in. “Did you forget our little chat this morning?”

“No.”

“This isn’t being careful,” he said with a pointed finger at my icepack. “There’s only so much I can do in the FIA but there were fans and we can’t stop them from posting what happened out there.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. I just saw that asshole and snapped, and possibly broke something. Fuck, my hand hurts.”

His eyes softened and he lifted Pierre’s wet shirt away to see the purple bruise spreading. “You should get this looked at.”

I shot him an incredulous look. “I’m not going to miss the race. I’ll take some painkillers and see how I feel after the podium. How did Trent get in anyway?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted sullenly. “The pass he scanned wasn’t his so we are tracking the owner down. It’s likely he flew in this morning after seeing the photos from last night, wanting to get the spotlight while the attention on you was fresh.”

“It feels personal and I don’t get why he hates me.”

“Well the fact that he went bankrupt after the court case probably didn’t help.” Dad frowned at the confusion on my face. “Honey, where did you think the reparation payout came from?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted with a shrug. “Money wasn’t exactly my focus when I was laid up in bed recovering and then back at Uni.”

“He was an independent journalist, it came from his own back pocket.”

Shit, that would explain the hatred radiating from him and why he was hell bent on making my life miserable.

“Look, I have to get back but I’ll let you know if I hear anything more.” His words pulled me from my thoughts and I gave him a quick hug, thanking him for the update.

“Pierre won’t get in trouble will he?” I asked as I walked him to the door.

“He’s not the one who threw the punch,” he said with a shake of his head as he murmured, “but I might like him a bit more if it was him.”

“Cut it out, please, he makes me happy.”

Dad rolled his eyes and sighed, “fine, but if he fucks up then I don’t care that he’s on Otmar’s team, I’ll penalise his ass until he’s 20th on the grid.”

The gusto made me laugh and I gave him a hug. “No you won’t but it’s nice to hear you have my back.”

“Siempre.”

“Ay, mama will be pleased,” I teased as I opened the door. “30 years of marriage and you’re finally learning some Español.”

“I know plenty, mija,” he fired back. “It’s just for her ears only.”

“Uh, disgusting.” My face screwed up and I tossed Pierre’s wet shirt at him but he was already gone, his laugh fading as he left Alpine’s area.

Since I was in a better space of mind I went in search of Addie, hoping it hadn’t been too much to ask for Otmar to watch her at such an important time but when I found him she wasn’t there. Panic began to creep in as I looked around the crews and didn’t see her but Otmar waved me over and placed a calming hand on my shoulder.

“She’s in the car,” he said as he pointed to the adjoining room where Pierre’s race car was waiting. “I’m a little hurt that she didn’t want to stay with me when your beau came out.”

“You’ll always be her Poppa,” I assured him. “Pierre’s just her shiny new toy and he spoils her with attention.”

“That makes me feel much better,” he said sarcastically before his assistant handed him more paperwork to check over while I left him to it.

The race car was on its stand with the tyres yet to be put on. They were being kept warm under insulation wraps and would only be attached when it was time to head to the track. Even without them on I could see the axle turning and when I was close enough to see into the driver's seat I found Addie pretending to drive from Pierre’s lap.

“I’m going brrrrrmmm so fast,” she declared with a toothy smile when she spotted me.

“So fast your wheels came off,” I gasped and pointed to the metal bar that they joined to.

She turned wide eyed to Pierre and smooshed his cheeks in her hands. “Woah, did you see that?”

He played along effortlessly, appearing equally as shocked until she burst out in a fit of laughter. Her pure joy had me smiling and the worry I had that she had seen what happened during the interview faded. She was happy and content, too young to understand the weight of the world, just like you hoped she would remain for as long as possible.

“Thank you,” I mouthed to Pierre as I lifted her out of the car so he could follow.

His body brushed mine as he stepped down and my heart skipped a beat as I remembered the feel of his skin under my hands. “My pleasure.”

The moment was broken by the pit crew arriving to start warming the oil for the car and I knew it was almost time. Pierre was already being called to go and get his fireproofs on but I stopped him and pulled the necklace my mother had given me when Addie was born. “She brings good luck and protection,” I said as he ducked his head so I could put it around his neck.

He picked up the gold pendant and studied the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I wasn’t overly religious, only going to church when it was expected of me and that was mostly when we went to Acapulco to visit my abuela, but I always wore the necklace.

“Are you sure?” he asked and I nodded with certainty. “Merci.”

He kissed the pendant before leaning forward and kissing my forehead too and the warmth of his lips spread like liquid across my body. I could have stayed feeling that way all day, like I had my own personal sun to bask in, but Addie had other ideas as she squirmed forward in my arms, shoving her face between us and patting her forehead.

“Jealous, princesse,” he said with a smile before giving her the kiss on her forehead she was wanting. “Where’s her earmuffs? It’s about to get loud in here.”

His concern for her endeared me all the more as I reached into my handbag and pulled the pair out for her before reminding him of his own wellbeing. “You should use some more Bonjela before you get in the car too.”

Pierre placed his hand over his heart as he backed away towards his impatient team waiting. “What would I do without you, mon ange.”

I didn’t have a response as he disappeared into the mass of people waiting to get him suited up, stretched and ready for the big event. I was still relearning how to breathe after hearing him call me his angel.

So much for taking things slow.

Click here for chapter seven.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

121 notes · View notes

soranihimawari · 2 years ago

Text

Promises on a Playground

Pairing: timeskip!ushiwaka x f!Olympian reader

Word count: 3.1+K

Warnings: none (?) an allusion to morning after

Rating: UWF (ushijima wakatoshi fluff)// sfw

Ushijima Wakatoshi, power server and ace canon of team Japan is seen at a bar in the middle of a club centric zone. It’s later than he thinks especially with the rest of the Adlers behind him. Tonight everyone in their roster is celebrating the redrafting of their teammates to the 2024 Olympic Games in Europe. Coincidentally, since his wrist accident during the off season happened early last year, this might be his second or third Olympics before officially playing a farewell season. He’s not getting any younger and his mother, bless Ushijima-sama, is praying he soon finds a person he loves just as fiercely as the sport he loves.

The club is hosting a private jazz lounge area so everyone can mingle with each other. Various players from the MSBY, Saõ Paulo, and even a few EJP Rajins are there too. All of them came back to celebrate their return to their national teams. All except Oikawa who is taking break considering he has his first child due any day now according to his private lifestyle socials media accounts. Iwazumi mentions he’ll be missing a few practices, but his best friend had named him godfather, so he’ll be in Argentina hoping to be the first to greet the his friend’s child before anyone else does. Upon hearing the news about how his old rival, nowadays isa soon to be parent, makes Japan’s canon a little, well, lonely.

Swirling the rocks glass in front of him, Ushijima thinks back about the random elementary school kid he hung out with at the jungle gym when he was nine just about to be ten. He takes a mighty sip, brandishing off the whiskey neat before ordering another one from the bartender wandering around the room. For whatever reason, he recalls his mother and granny asking the babysitter for his new friend’s phone number back then. His mother mentioned how shy and intimidating her son can be and the baby sitter introduces herself as a relative to the pair of older women.

“I’m yn’s aunt,” ushijima’s ears are sharp enough to hear that as his eyes look at you; you who dressed in overalls like him with light lilac puffy sleeves and even light sapphire hair talks about castles in the sky.

“Yn? How pretty,” Ushijima’s mother hums, eyes aglow when she notices her son curiously make a face at the chatter box you are.

You’re laying down cloud watching and before ushijima knows it, you entourage him to lay back and he watches them too. For a ten year old reserved child like him, the fact that you hold his hand like any best friend would, made his heart beat a bit quicker. So, after you’re called by your aunt to say your good-byes.

“I have to go,” you pout as he helps you sit up. A younger version of him just blinks as he feels this impending sadness in his chest--you were his first friend outside of his school; one where the classmates treated him as 'other' because of which hand was the most dominant, yet he didn't care what they called him behind his back then. You were a brilliant source of comfort for the last forty-minutes or so when you struck up a conversation with him at the top of the jungle gym. Your imagination made him a captain of a space cruier who on a whim, you choose to follow until you make it back to earth after a series of tag games. It's why you were on your back earlier, changing subjects about wondering if he'll be back tomorrow. Ushijima, the little kid he was back then, didn't know if he'd be back, so he just shrugs, unsure how to answer that.

“Wakatoshi! It’s getting dark, we should go too.”

“Mmhm,” he frowns. “Me too.”

You stand up when he orders his hand to help you up off the playground tarp.

“Y'know, it's ok if you're not here tomorrow Waka-kun." You hold his hand and give it a firm shake. Before you do truly part ways, you loop a pinky of yours around his. Looking dead straight in those childlike emerald stones of irses he had inherited, you raise your linked hands to each other's faces. "Meet me here when we’re in high school?” your odd request is met with a small sheepish smile.

“Five years from now?” he seems surprised.

“Yup! I’m sure you’ll be popular toshi-kun,” you had a slight smirk, giving his pinky a fateful squeeze before dropping it. “Don’t forget!”

A young Ushijima nods as you take off to the bench where your aunt was waiting before waving goodbye. His heart beat out of rhythm before he walked to his mom.

“Yn-chan is nice, hmm?”

“I guess,” her stoic son has a pout in his voice.

Mother holds her son's hand as they walk in the opposite direction where you and your aunt fade in the distance behind a neighboring street corner.

"Hey mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Sure. After your team practice is over, yeah?"

At this, Ushijima-sama looks at her boy who now has this cheeky grin tugging on his usually stoic straight lips as she just shakes her head in amusement.

It takes a few years of development and many Valentines confessions to realize Ushijima Wakatoshi had an after school playground crush on the elusive YLN,YN. Satori, one night in the dorms, bothers his fellow teammate to share former firsts—believe it or not your name is all ushijima can remember. Oh, and the fact you made him make a foolish promise of meeting at the same park now in the future was in fact an empty one. Although, one day right after graduation, Ushijima is hanging out with his new setter in the locker room for an extra practice. There is a tv with the news channels on with live coverage of the Sochi Winter Olympics that year. Lo and behold, you were a flag bearer for your home country with a summer sport under your name: Silver Medalist, WOMEN’S GYMNASTICS, 2016. You made the Olympic team before he and Kageyama did—you were one of the youngest to participate according to the announcers and god help Eros because Ushijima nearly lost his focus at extra practice that day. He almost didn’t return any of Kageyama’s servers.

Imagine how surprised you are as you’re invited by an old friend in the JVA to attend this gathering. You’re officially a three time medalist in individual rounds and even a two time gold medalist in team routines. Anyone who is an avid follower of your career record talks about you with pride in their smile. Well, it did help that your aunt was also your coach, but it also helped that for a while there, Karasuno also had an underground strong gymnastics team. No one ever heard about it until very recently when you named the high school and university you attended on invitational scholarship. Regardless, you greet Hinata who calls your name after you grab a champagne flute. You mingle your way over saying hi to everyone who stops you, saying your thanks and/or congrats to those who made the team. Again.

Hinata side hugs you, and you have hug a tipsy Kageyama, who leans on his former partner. Though they both blush at you greeting them, they also extend elated words you’re joining them in Europe for your respective sport. This time though, due to your physical therapy for a torn ACL right before World Championships, you are elected to be vice coach and spotter this term. You’re a little down, sure, but you wear it well as Kageyama saunters off to find the restrooms to relieve himself. Hinata says to follow him while he introduces you to the roster of players he’ll be reuniting with. Some you knew from coming to MSBY and Adler games, others you recognize from prior games like Aran-kun and Suna Rintaro. Names you wouldn't have recognized until it was Hinata who name dropped a few of them on your video calls when he was resigned to returning to Sao Paolo.

The last of these 'gentle monsters' as you tease them in saying is someone reminiscent of a child you made watch the clouds with you in your youth. Strength hidden underneath his semi formal wear sans sports coat, the young contemporary icon stifles a breath as you are introduced to each other again. This time, though, Hinata is called away by his former MSBY teammates thus leaving you and Ushijima to your own devices. For him, time slows as the small circle you’re surrounded by grows smaller. Soon enough, it was just you and him, filling each other with stories of growing up miles from each other, not even realizing you were rivals in volleyball come your high school years. Ushijima hums when you bring about that stunning block from a sarcastic kouhai back then, mentioning the city where that first year went on to play for an upcoming division one team. He tells you it’s old news especially when he sees how dedicated the others were to their craft. You and him reach for some hor d’oeuvres as the trays came around again.

“You never came back to the park where we met, Wakatoshi,” you say as you slide a few more mushrooms into your mouth. You swirl what’s left of your third sangria glad that night before downing it.

Ushijima is bewildered at your admission. Honestly, he forgot—he was ten! So were you, but friends don’t break promises no matter how old they are. You stifle a laugh as he blinks surprised by how sharp your memory is.

“I had a game, or was at practice…”

You nod. You too couldn't have made it every day for three years because you had practice to attend too, yet rain, snow, or sunshine didn't stop you. If you tell him that perhaps you might shoot your shot as Tsukishima would say. Hell, even when you texted the rest of your third years from Karasuno when you were invited to attend, Sugawara had the audacity to encourage you in attending. They all knew about the elusive kid you met in the summer right before you had started grade six: even they were surprised he turned out to be the captain of the powerhouse school who had been crazy enough to challenge Hinata Shoyo, 'from the concrete', once. You let that text memory die in the back of your mind while you went with the first option: guilt Ushijima Wakatoshi into liking your company like you were ten again. Fun fact: you didn't need to do that; he was already thinking of ways to get you to talk to himi long before you were standing side by side after you were reintroduced to each other.

“I spent three years, every summer break, curious about the kid I met back then. Kind and warm, like the fall breeze by the beach. Had an air of coolness from what i could tell too.”

You side eye him as he’s processing this information, what you seemed to have implied on yourself, turning on your heel after bidding him good night. Sauntering off, you find a few more familiar faces since you got the closure you didn’t know you wanted, but alas with your back to a different table this time, you’re approached by Ushijima. He’s a bit, intoxicated, you can tell by the way an alcohol blush tints his cheeks. The glass he had earlier was finished and replaced with another which was almost done by the time he walked over.

This was all thanks to Kageyama’s influence, after all the young setter went off on a hyper focused rant about how learning to love and earn love back helped his current relationship. Even if it was currently long distance. Flights from Italy to Brazil aren't really that cheap, yet for love of the sport and the man, Kageyama explains he makes it work. He has to because, according to the stubborn blueberry man, "love takes time to build, so seize the opportunity to love someone."

It was weird hearing this from his former Adler’s teammate, yet it makes sense as his eyes never wavered far from where you were talking-or was it flirting?-with other members of team Japan. Like how Miya Atsumu's eyes you when he hugs you with the widest grin on his face; or when Suna Rintaro chuckles as you see pictures of his baby nephews throw snowballs on a rice field in his hometown, drives Ushijima to give off Sakusa level warnings of backing off when he sees you interact with them.

Does it help that Ushijima felt a little jealous? No, why would it? You're laughing as Hinata sees the replay of Suna's nephews fight over Vabo-chan during the holidays last year as Ushijima walks over.

"Your nephews are so violent, but," you pause, handing the phone back to the middle blocker. "They do take after you and your bother, huh Miya?"

"Yeah, but 'Samu's kids are little terrors, but absolute angels when ya meet 'em," the blond says. Something about the way he sort of looks away from your face makes you wonder why you have this sneaking suspicion someone taller and more menacing than a house cat is lurking behind you. You shrug as Hinata glances over at the other two players across from where you stand and you can tell they are thinking of an easy way out of this conversation at this table as the jazz musicians take a break for a little while because right now, you feel a hand sneak it’s way around your waist.

"We're going to head back to the bar for some refills," Suna says taking your glass away from your hands. Your eyes watch Miya and Hinata scurry off before Suna gives a friendly, yet cold, warning look to the man who's standing like a guard dog behind you. Yellow-green eyes do not cower in front of the statuesque player who may or may not have been the reason you were still not seeing anyone as of late. (Suna means well, you know this as he was the first athlete in the off season to hang out with you regularly when you realize you went to the same all around gym by the EJP stadium. He's close enough to be family at this point, but young enough to know platonic love is the lane he needed to be in at this point in your life).

“Had enough?” you inquire as the others whom you were talking to waited for other beverages to be made. The perfume his designer had let him try gives of a scent of light cinnamon and earthy notes; it is faint on him, but to you when you lean back, it's a scent of comfort. It doesn't take a genius to see the comfortability around each other; it's enough that if the tabloids were here your 'snuggling' would break Twitter and the Adler's official accounts. That's a story for another time.

“Not yet,” his voice is rough, like he’s exhausted, but the way he says it as he pulls your hips back toward him, you almost choke on your own spit. Suggestive under the influence or not, you're not going to oppose if he invites you for a latenight hook-up; you're both grown enough to recognize this flirtatious dancing needs to come to a head.

However, the second Ushijima rests his head atop yours a moment savoring how you feel in front of him like this, is the few seconds it takes for you to relax further by reaching up and caressing his face. A sense of comfortability and spring like warmth spreads from soul outward. Your hand retracts just as he's about to lean into your palm, a pointed, peeved brow greets your peripheral as you rest the same hand on his arm. You're trying not to tease him further, but you do so in the most subtle of ways and it's driving him mad.

Perhaps you feel it too, judging by how his answer amplifies your rouge makeup, and so you lean more against his side like an old friend with the potential to become more. His lips were so close to the corner where yours began and if he caused you to turn just a little more toward him, Ushijima Wakatoshi would have unashamedly kiss you, publicly no less. Instead, you listen to how he breathes differently when you force him to sway with the band having returned to the small private clubroom stage. His voice begrundingly begging you to take the lead in carrying on whatever started here behind closed doors. And for what it’s worth, those that may have seen the exchange might have turned around would not believe how smitten the two of you are.

"Y'mean to tell me I never had a chance?! Hinata," Atsumu squints at the blatant almost-couple across the other side of the bar. "Warn a guy before he flirts with Ushijima's lady."

"Oi! I didn't know they'd be like that 'Tsum!" Hinata whines. "But they do look happy, right?"

"Mm," Atsumu concurs by raising his refilled glass to where you are almost completely draped by the shoulders by Ushijima. "G'luck to 'em."

Meanwhile, after you had securely ducked under and over Ushijima's front side, you steadied him by holding his left arm on the side. He tilts his head down slightly to hear you clearer.

“We should head out,” you suggest.

Your breath tickles the part of his upper arm where you lean against. You feel his chest rumble as you splayed a hand there to steady him when he nods apologizing for the drunken affection he’s giving. Not that you minded though. It’s not like you were waiting for almost a decade to see him this way, right?

Flash forward twenty-six minutes later and now you’re lip locked with this giant of a man who is and was still your first memory of a crush. This had started because once you kicked off your heels for the event, you glanced up at Ushijima standing there awkwardly in the foyer of his penthouse level hotel room: you choose to call out his name at first before taking his face in your hands and bringing him down to your level. Arms and hands from earlier grip the fabric of your outfit before you silently nod murmuring, "you can kiss me all you want here."

Now, Ushijima Wakatoshi, for all the years he's been visiting his father in the U.S., and from what his mother's dramas taught him about kissing has nothing compared to what kissing you had felt like. Nothing comes close to how his breathing is shallower the further you let him go without oxygen; the way one of your arms loop across his shoulder and the other with a gentle hand scratching his scalp the more you melt into him. You are like sunshine now and when you grant him reprieve from your kisses and those eyes that bewitched him stare back, sort of lackadaisical in a kiss drunk state.

"Been wanting to do that ever since you walked in," his voice has your back arch while he adjusts his hold. His nose nudges your cheek before acutely nipping the fat of your cheek there. You stutter forward perplexed by his quite frank neediness. Your hips almost touch, and when you feel Ushijima's soft chuckle against your ear he gives you a word of advice. "Patience."

Minutes later, Ushijima has you raised on the dresser in his hotel room, half undressed as your hands have undone several of his buttons. This time, he kisses you with a sense of urgency; his heart is suddenly picking up pace as is yours the further you sigh out his name when he marks your skin with his teeth and suckling lips. The dresser moves as you try to follow his eagerness to have you-all of you. His hands, feeling hotter than ever before, he uses one to support your back, whereas the other slips under your thigh and drags you forward with such a start, you moan his name into his mouth. He looks wide-eyed at you, not caring how you sort of have this embarrassed smile on him.

"Don't stop saying it," he snarls into your mouth. The dresser softly bangs back against the wall.

"Wakatoshi!" you whisper yell and you shake your head at how content he laughs into your neck.

"Hmm?" he kisses your collarbone.

"Gently this time," you instruct him. Ushijima acknowledges your advice, yet he's thoroughly thinking of other noises your voice can do

However, you choose to focus on something else: like how you got here to this point as you're given a chance to catch your breath. Almost half dressed by the man in your arms. It's not that you care about what you thought earlier that day when Hinata and Kageyama sent you texts inviting you out for drinks at the club; you just didn’t think this was the reconnection you needed to have with someone you met almost fifteen years ago when you were in primary school (you both were ten).

Not that any of that preemptive thoughts matter, not now anyways as you allow yourself to be loved by someone who is as strong to stand by you–lords of fate above, the truth you share as Ushijima rolls his shirt off his body. You can't help but stare unabashaedly at him, tanned through the years, sweet eyes boring into yours as you whisper where the zipper is on the side of your attire.

"Are you sure?" Ushijima's mighty hands find the hook-and-eye attachment on the zipper track. Your hand closest to where his is rests atop his wrist.

"If you think I'm going to hit and run on you," you help him drag down the zipper. "You don't know me at all."

Your clothes slide off as easily as the rest of his does. Though now you're both in less clothing as you let him continue showing his appreciation in having you wait for such a long time. It's not either of your first times in bed with another person, yet you know you'd have to be impervius of affection if you think with the way he cares for you afterwards is nothing less than a princely pauper's care is something out of a fairytale.

Ushijima settles in bed beside you as you wear an old traveling shirt of his after cleaning up.

"I take it we're together now, huh?" you are so cheeky as he rolls his eyes at you.

"I suppose it depends, yn," he replies.

"On what?"

"Whether or not you want to join me for breakfast tomorrow."

You nod enthused by his subtlety. A few moments pass by and as you begin to give sleep a chance, Ushijima pulls you closer to his shoulder, an arm of his cradles your head steady against him. Sobriety at this time of night makes him thank his stars you're here, asleep next to him. You shift in your sleep a couple minutes later and he hears you, murmuring a quiet, 'don't forget me' which if he was being honest with himself, he would have woken you up with an incredulous look of 'how did I?'

Come four in the morning, you're jostled awake by the remembrance of this not being your hotel room. You are able to recall meeting Hinata and Kageyama at the club; seeing and possibly reconnecting in more ways than one with Ushijima Wakatoshi, who is asleep behind you now. You're wearing his shirt, you feel an ache between your thighs and you're suddenly dragging a hand over your face before a chortle escapes your lips. No wonder your aunt was so adamant about you not trying to settle down until after your final Olympic Games after this one in Paris--you're going to have to sever the thought because of the man whom is now going to be keeping your bed warm will be the one you hope to settle with. Not because you both wanting to 'settle' no, because you two are learning how to keep a promise of love and friendship afloat. More so now the love had warped into one of a more romantic nature. You ponder this while tracing over his features with the calloued pads of your own hands from years of the gymnast powder used on them.

“You should go back to sleep, my heart,” his voice is even more gruff when you’re in a groggy mindset. He probably doesn't register what he said, but the moment he echoes what you said in your half-dreamlike state you lower yourself back whispering against his lips how you're not leaving him; you couldn't even if you tried. He seems to like that, smirking as he kisses your shoulder.

You chuckle turning over to face him now; slowly tracing his strong arms that wrap around your waist as they pull you closer to him like earlier. You readjust your body to lean against his sturdy self again just to press a kiss to the space between his eyebrows as he hums nudging his forehead against your own. Silently in this room just as your eyes flutter shut, you tell him how you can't wait for what tomorrow holds for either of you. For now, you both head back to sleep in the arms of the first real love you had found.

Perhaps now your younger selves all those years ago are laughing on the playground where a promise is fulfilled.

#ushijima wakatoshi x gymnast!reader #olympic bound au #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sfw fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader

82 notes · View notes

alovesongforu · 3 months ago

Text

One - My Mom Finally Goes Crazy

Have you ever watched any race in your life? If your answer is 'yes', I bet you've asked yourself "How can they run so fast and so much? Is that even humanly possible?"

I used to ask the same question, but now, pursued by hundreds, maybe thousands of flesh-hungry monsters, I have the answer: yes. When your mind is filled with a surviving instinct, it releases a funny hormone in your blood that keeps you going on, no matter what's happening.

It doesn't matter if your lungs burn so much they feel like combusting, it doesn't matter if every fiber in your legs is screaming for rest, it doesn't matter if you have a bite so deep in your neck that blood gushes.

It keeps you going, numbing your pain and clouding your senses with just one message: Keep going or you'll die. The name of this hormone? Adrenaline. I could continue my story from here, but I don't think you readers would understand it fully, so let's go back in the storyline.

°°°

June 5, 2019. Brazil, São Paulo.

12:30 PM.

I hate school. Even though I have changed schools multiple times, bullying haunts me. I had no friends in Guarulhos, the only ones I managed to make turned their backs against me, I was beaten every single day.

In São Paulo, things are not that different. People ignore me, unless they want to ridicule me. I don't get beaten anymore, no one scratches my desk with insults, telling me to kill myself, but I'm alone. Lonely. I try to console myself, saying that it's better being alone than poorly accompanied, but it still hurts.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm so sorry! My name is Beatrice, Beatrice Sunnova D'Agostino.

I'm ten years old and I study in some fancy private school in the city of São Paulo. My mom is an artist who gained fame not long ago. As I was saying, I'm completely alone. The only friends I have are my mom and...Well, I know it sounds weird, but pigeons, bugs and rats.

I also know what you're thinking right now. "Poor girl, she's completely nuts...", but I'm not. These animals, 'pests', they talk to me. And even if I am crazy, could you even blame me? If you, my dear reader, went through everything I've been through, I highly doubt you wouldn't think like me or be friends with them too.

I'm a person of many thoughts, so I could spend days and days just narrating all the incessant questions or stories that I create in my head to entertain myself and forget that I don't have a single friend my age, but I think I need to contextualize you from reality.

Right now, I'm having math class. I know, I know, a torture, but it's the last class of the day. Then, I'll go back home and no one will throw paper balls at me, with messages like: "you look like a pig", or "why are you still here? Nobody likes you". I'll be able to eat delicious food, wear comfortable clothes and read until it's dinner time again.

Mr. Ricardo (Yes, in Brazil we don't call our teachers by their last names.), was saying something about... to the power of, I guess? I'm not paying attention, all I can think about is how today's hell is going to end in...ten minutes, no, nine.

You must be asking yourself 'Is this school so bad? Why don't you tell everything to your mom, Beatrice?' Firstly, call me Bea, please. Secondly, my fellow: This is a true hell on earth. I hate this place with all my might. Every day, when I wake up, I pray this place has caught fire, with everyone inside, preferably.

Now, your second question: My mother became a millionaire, I know she did. But I've only been studying here for a year and a half, and I don't want my mother to spend any more money on me, going through the trouble of buying a new uniform, transferring me to another school, and so on. On top of that, I don't have much time left at school, just six and a half years...Yeah, maybe I do, but I can handle it, I swear.

Mr. Ricardo continued to fill the board with equations, and although I copied it obediently, my ears were focused on the conversation of the clique of girls behind me. Maria Luisa, Sarah, Marina and Carla. You know that group of girls in your class that you clearly see that are nothing more than bitches with some sort of Regina George syndrome, but for some reason, everyone likes them? Yeah, that 's them.

Don't get me wrong, I love girls and I think it's silly to talk negatively about their interests because they are purely feminine, but these girls are demons. They have power over the class and, if they want to, they will make children be excluded and looked down on by the entire school for simply not agreeing with them.

"You're all going to sleep at my house this weekend, right? My parents have already bought everything." Marina said.

"Yeah, but I think I'll just show up at night."

Carla replies.

"Why?" "I have mass in the afternoon."

"If that's the case then don't even come, Carla! You'll miss all the fun!"

They were toxic towards each other, I know that, but deep down I wanted a friendship like that. Someone to talk to during class and keep me company during recess. Normally I stay in the school terrace, talking to my pigeon friends. I sound ungrateful right now, yes, I love my pigeon friends, I really do, but I would like to be friends with some girls my age.

With that horrible, booming siren, the bell rings, marking the end of classes. Thank God. I didn't care about my material when I put it in my backpack, I just threw it in and left the room. Nobody talks to me when I'm at the exit, but that's fine. I have my headphones and my music to distract me while my mom doesn't arrive.

I don't live far from school, but my mom insists on driving me and picking me up every day. That 's fine by me. Even if there are other people from my school who live in the same area as me, I would just be ignored the entire way, so it's even better to get a ride. I'll finally have someone to talk to.

My headphones were blasting with 'A Little Death' by The Neighborhood, and I'm sure other people could hear it, but I couldn't care less. For as long as I can remember, music has always been everything to me. When my mom would fight with my grandfather because he called me a pest, I would just turn up the volume on my headphones and suddenly I would be in another world.

One where my family loved me, one where I wouldn't have sucked the last drop out of my mother's beauty, one where I wasn't a money-eating parasite. Well...you can understand that music is important for my survival, right?

Even if I was distracted with the music and people passing through me, I still could see my mom's gray VW Virtus stopping in the driveway. I sighed, relieved. Today's hell was over. Now, let me make one thing clear: there are many children in the world who hate their parents for not spending time with them, but not me. I love my mom with my soul. In my eyes, she is the best woman in the world. The most beautiful, nicest, most pleasant, most talented, most perfect in existence.

My mom is my idol, and if she wanted to touch my bones, I would open the flesh of my body with my bare hands just to satisfy her wish. I hurry to get into the car and immediately realize that there is something wrong. Her smile was forced, her eyes, always so curious and expressive, showed pain and sadness.

"How was your day, sweetheart?"

She asks me, but everything about her attitude was wrong. "It was... good. What about yours?"

"It was good too. What do you think about eating filet parmigiana today?"

"Yeah, sure! I'll never complain about filet parmigiana..."

°°°

Even if my mom was pretending everything was okay, we both knew there was something wrong. She couldn't keep a poker face to save her life. The ride home was silent. Not the comfortable silence type. The uncomfortable one, super uncomfortable.

When we finally got home, I jumped out of the car in a hurry, desperate to escape that strange atmosphere. It was even worse in the elevator. Other people occupied that small cubicle, and my mom wouldn't dare say anything with other people around. I know that.

Even though I was desperate inside, I calmly opened the apartment door, dropping my backpack and taking off my shoes. It wasn't a house rule to take the shoes off to enter the house, but I liked the feeling of my bare feet on the cold floor, even in winter.

The platter with steak and parmigiana was already waiting for the two of us at the table, and my mom served it to me. I poured some juice into my glass while she tried to make conversation.

"So...nothing funny happened today?" I forgot to mention, but I hate worrying my mom, so I lied to her for maybe the second time in my life. I said I made three friends: Luana, Pedro and Zé. It wasn't a lie, I just didn't mention that my friends were...well, pigeons. But I think it's just a trivial detail, right?

"No...you?"

"...Same..." She then began to cut the food on her plate, but didn't put anything in her mouth. I can't take it anymore.

"Mom, what's going on?"

She purses her lips.

"Bea, we need to talk."

"Yeah, I can see."

My mom takes a deep breath, she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Bea, I already told you how I met your father, didn't I?"

"He appeared in one of the exhibitions from your college project."

I was starting to feel restless, why didn't she tell me what was happening at once?

"Yes...we started talking, he invited me for a date and...well, I'll spare you from the details-"

"Mommy, where exactly do you want to get to?"

"Bea...I fell in love with a god."

...Uh, okay? If she wants to say this to herself, it's fine, but what do I have to do with this? I probably made a face and let my emotions very clear, because she lets out a whimper, wiping away a tear.

"Sweetie, you're a demigod."

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo #pjo oc #apollo cabin #apollo #castor and pollux #travis stoll #connor stoll #camp half blood

3 notes · View notes

dyclerc · 11 months ago

Note

"..." Alvaro stopped whatever he's doing to Paulo. He stared blankly with a heavy gaze. Love? He never quite thought about that certain thing. He liked one-night stands but couldn't really commit to relationships.

So he poured some more wine. He really did not care if he had a game tomorrow; he couldn't think straight anyway. Now it was too fast. Paulo liked it.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, cut off by kisses. The taste of wine on his lips was quite pleasant. The fragrance of Paulo's intoxicating cologne enhances his beauty further.

The look on Paulo's face is truly beautiful. The rosy cheeks were stained with tears. Gosh, he even cried prettily. Maybe even Alvaro wasn't okay. In fact, nobody was. They were all messed up in some way.

Perhaps it was how sick Paulo could think and how they’d just laugh it off. Because, really, it was just between them. Nobody could understand them like they did with each other. Alvaro knew every little thing about Paulo, and so did Paulo.

"You're no good for me; you're no good for me."Paulo panted; his gasps were music to Alvaro's ears. Too fast; he loved it. Pressing kisses on his neck, Alvaro was really 'busy.'

"You smell like cherries; that's new," Alvaro whispered softly, playing with Paulo's fingers. Paulo's hands were slightly smaller compared to Alvaro's. Alvaro liked that.

Paulo seemed to calm down a bit. Just letting Alvaro take control. Now they were both entangled in each other's warmth. The night was cold. Funny how it was still autumn.

"What's his name, was it Leandro?"

"Alvaro, it's not like that."

"Just some rumors I've heard—not everyone you sleep with means you love them," Alvaro whispered, and suddenly Paulo looked up, realizing one small little thing.

"Is that why you dodged the question?" Paulo asked, his gaze serious. He just wondered, Why didn't Alvaro answer him? The questions were eating him alive.

"What do you mean?" Alvaro chuckled. Pauli hated how careless Alvaro could be sometimes. How could he ignore everything and just laugh it off? But that's how they have always been. They have always done that. Maybe that's why they still care about each other.

Alvaro knew exactly what Paulo meant; he’d always know what he meant. They understood each other better than anyone else.

"You know very well."

Paulo was so afraid. He was afraid that he was just a fuck buddy to Alvaro. Just someone to take it out on whenever he felt awful.

Alvaro looked at him, his eyes meeting Paulo's curious ones. Then suddenly, Alvaro kissed Paulo one last time. The kiss was slow and patient. It wasn't like any of their kisses. It wasn't rushed.

"Since the summer of '09," Alvaro breathed, his fingers caressing Paulo's. "What?"

"I've loved you since the summer of '09," Alvaro confessed. God, it felt like an eternity to say. Finally, he got it out of his chest. He felt calm, as if he had nothing to be afraid of, as if he were free from it all.

It took him 13 summers to acknowledge his ever-hopeless feelings. 13 summers. 8 words. One sentence.

"I love you the first time; I love you the last time." And Paulo just hopes that it truly lasts an eternity. He hopes that it won't be like any other passionate night they've shared together. He hopes that Alvaro won't forget about it the morning after. He just hopes that Alvaro doesn't shatter his poor heart again.

Omg 😭😭😭😭 I'm crying

I'm so in love I just need an entire series now 😂😅 the details are so perfect I love this so much!!! Thank you for sharing ❤️❤️

#asks #my fav type of ask tbh

2 notes · View notes

chaletnz · 1 year ago

Text

Lima: Central City Walking Tour

On my walk to PukuPuku cafe I passed through Parque Kennedy and saw all the cat residents snoozing on pieces of cardboard laid on the grass for them. I heard crying above me, there was a tiny kitten up the tree but I couldn't do anything to try and get it down. My coffee was just as good as the one in their Arequipa branch, I sat outside to enjoy it as some businessmen came in for espressos on their way to the office - it reminded me a bit of Italy as they drank them standing there for a few minutes then left. I then went for a pancake breakfast at Piñeiros thinking I had plenty of time but then it took more than 30 minutes to get my food so I had to shovel it down quickly and run around the corner to meet up with the walking tour guide Jorge. Once everyone had joined (around 15 people) Jorge helped us all take the bus network to the central city, we'd all brought exact change as requested. The bus network was actually fantastic. Jorge scared us by saying there's a lot of crime and petty theft on the public transit so watch our belongings closely as we are targets. A large group of tourists though, we drew attention to ourselves and probably even the most hardened criminals didn't want to chance it. The bus had its own central lane in the middle of the highway, with concrete blockades on either side so it wasn't going out into traffic and traffic couldn't enter the bus lane. Because of this layout it was incredibly efficient and faster than all the traffic on the road even with all the stops along the way. I would love to see something like this implemented from Denver to Frisco and Copper Mountain as it would make public transit flow freely despite the frequent highway standstills. Jorge showed us how to use the ticket machine to buy a ticket back and then led us over to La Merced Church in central Lima which would be our starting point. We met up with some more tourists there and began our tour at this Baroque church that was constructed under the Spanish empire, followed by Casa O'Higgins which memorialises Bernardo O'Higgins who played a key role in the independence of Chile from the Spanish empire. We then visited Fotografia Central an old photo studio, and then an old mansion which had unfortunately succumb to humidity and had not been looked after by immigrants who took it over. We stopped in a shady spot where Jorge told us there are 43 districts in Lima home to over 10 million people, the 4th largest city in South America after Sao Paulo, Buenos Aires, and Rio de Janeiro. He also explained that the main sport in Peru after football is eating and we should not ignore "chifa" which is the Peruvian Chinese food and is very unique cuisine. We then visited the municipal theatre, and St Dominic Church where Jorge explained a few historical terms criollo (meaning born in Latin America) and peninsulares (born in Spain). The criollos were second class citizens during Spanish rule. The origin of the city name Lima came from the Quechua indigenous people calling it "rimac" meaning "noisy river" in their native language but the Spanish hearing "Lima" instead. The last part of the tour was Plaza de Armas, and Jorge pointed out the house of the president because of course he lives in the main square! We took a group photo and gave our tips to Jorge before splitting up. I'd been chatting with a British guy Tom, and British girl Ellie who both happened to be from the same area there was also a guy I can only describe as "Berliner" because he had such an unwashed Berlin resident vibe although I think he was actually Dutch or Danish or something... Ellie was into it so Tom and I took a couple photos of each other in the main square and then I gave him 10 soles for his bus ticket back as he hadn't brought enough money with him. I stayed to explore more on my own though, I love breaking away from the group!

#Peru #Lima

2 notes · View notes

invisibleraven · 2 years ago

Text

Inked

Julie and her dad go on a trip to Puerto Rico and Julie comes home with more than just souvenirs.

After seeing the picture of Madi's own tattoo that she and her dad got in Brazil, well this idea just came to me.

I know next to nothing about Puerto Rico and not much more about getting tattoos, so sorry for any inaccuracies.

On AO3!

When Julie graduated at the top of her class after four grueling years of study, her father offered to take her on a trip wherever in the world she wanted.

“I want to go to Puerto Rico,” she replied. “See where you and mami grew up. Meet mi abuela and any other relations that might be there.”

“We can do that,” Ray said with watery eyes and a sniffle.

Of course then, Carlos and her aunt wanted to come, but Julie insisted it was a father daughter trip, and the two of them were welcome to take their own trip after Carlos finished school. Neither was happy about it, but they relented, and before long, they were in the air towards San Juan.

They had a lovely time there, with Ray showing Julie all his old haunts, and a few he knew from Rose’s past. Julie nearly wept as she saw her mothers name inscribed on a wall of the club where the Petal Pushers were born. Her Instagram feed was filled with photos of all the places she saw, and especially all the food she was enjoying.

There was a lot of food.

All her relatives were so happy to see her and were determined to stuff her with their signature dishes. Plus all the street vendors and small stalls always had something to snack on.

Julie is positive she’s gained at least five pounds during this trip, but it’s nothing a few hot yoga sessions with Flynn and a few runs around Malibu with Carrie won’t solve. Plus she’s on vacation, so she feels free to indulge.

It’s also nice to get in touch with her heritage a little more. She’d grown up with pictures and stories about Puerto Rico, but nothing compares to seeing it. She even attends a Mass with her papi, something she rarely does at home. They’re more prayers over meals and church on major holidays people now, well aside from tia, but it was nice to go. To hear the service in Spanish, to light a candle for her mami, to sing the songs, loud and proud in her parent’s native tongue.

It was their second last day there that her father asked if there was anything else she wanted to see or do. “Anything you want,” he vowed.

Julie hummed as she scanned the plaza they were standing in, enjoying the last sips of an iced coffee, and that’s when she saw it; a way to forever keep Puerto Rico with her.

“You wanna get a tattoo?” she asked, pointing to the neon sign.

Ray followed her finger and sighed. “I did say whatever you wanted I suppose. Dios mio your aunt is gonna kill me.”

Julie shrugs and pulls him towards the studio, hoping they’re free to do a walk in. The place looks clean and new, with a few people milling about, but not overly crowded. She can see certificates and photos of the art on the wall, and she immediately gets a good feeling about the place. A friendly looking guy covered in ink is manning the desk and smiles when Julie approaches.

“Hola señorita, qué puedo hacer por ti hoy?”

“Mi papi y yo queriamos tatuarnos,” Julie replies.

“Muy bien!” the man exclaims, then calls to the back in heavily accented English. “Reggie! Got a client or two for you!”

“Coming Paulo!” a voice calls, and then out from behind a curtain comes one of the cutest guys Julie has ever laid eyes on. He’s pale, very pale in comparison to everyone around him, with a dusting of fine golden freckles dancing across the bridge of his nose. His eyes sparkle a spring time green, with flecks of flinty gray that Julie can spot as he gets closer. She can also see the toned nature of his body in the tight tank and ripped jeans he’s wearing, and she’s struggling not to match the blush painting his face as he scopes her out as well. Thank goddess she decided on a cute little sundress today and not the oversized tee and shorts she’d been sporting most of her time here.

“Hi there, I’m Reggie…. Um, No hablo español, is that okay?”

Julie giggles, and finds her fingers twisting in a loose curl from her braid. “It’s fine, we’re from LA.”

“Me too!” Reggie says, escorting them back to his station with a megawatt grin. “Paulo and I met in college and I came down to visit. Somehow got roped into working for him for a few days while his partner is out with the flu. But now I’m glad I did!”

Ray gives a wry chuckle, making the both of them turn, finally noticing that he’s even there. Reggie gives a little cough, blushing even more vibrantly, and Julie really wants to know how warm that would feel against her lips, but shakes herself a little. Not while her dad is right there!

Reggie asks them what they’re looking for, and shows them a few examples of his work. Julie is amazed by the artistry. She had always been a fan of tattoos, even if getting one for herself had been a spur of the moment decision. She knows her dad has one; a rose and dahlia intertwined on his shoulder blade, while her mom had a sun on hers, a matching set that Julie had loved to trace whenever she saw them as a little girl.

Ray finally finds one he’d be okay with getting; a small smiley face with the Puerto Rican flag inside of it. “What do you think mija?”

It’s a bit simplistic, but Julie knows her dad is only doing this for her, and she finds she kind of loves the cheery design. She gives him a thumbs up and tells him he can go first, given he’d done it before. Ray gives her a grin and shows Reggie the spot on his bicep he wants the ink.

Soon the prep was done and Reggie was sitting, readying his needle. “You can stay, if you want,” he tells Julie. “Might help to see it happening to hype yourself up for yours.”

“Thanks,” she replies, and leans over to squeeze her father’s hand. “Thanks for doing this with me papi.”

“Anything for you mija,” Ray replies. “But you’re the one explaining it to your aunt.”

“Fair enough.”

The next hour passes quickly, with the buzz of the needle and Reggie chatting away with them both. Apparently he and Ray share a love for Star Wars that Julie will never get, but he also apparently loves music, so he and Julie spend a good chunk of time discussing the finer points of Dolly Parton, Taylor Swift, and Green Day.

Then Reggie was done, wiping down her father’s arm, going over the after care instructions and wrapping the ink up. “Your turn darlin’,” he said turning to Julie, a tiny bit of Georgia twang coming into his voice at the endearment.

Julie bit her lip, but slid into the freshly sanitized chair, shivering at the cool leather. “Nervous?” Reggie asked, and all she could do was nod. “I was too, before my first one.”

Julie looked him up and down, but couldn’t see a trace of ink on him until he turned, pulling the strap of his tank top away, revealing a small Star of David with the name Chavala Cassidy under it. “For my MeeMaw,” he said. “She passed away while I was in high school but there wasn’t a kinder woman alive than her.”

“That’s beautiful,” Julie said, fiddling with the pendant her mother had once worn that now hung around her neck. “Maybe one day I’ll do one for my mom.”

“She would have loved that mija,” Ray said, squeezing her shoulder. “Bet you she would have loved to be here for this too.” He gives a little sniffle, and then coughs. “Do you want me to stay? Get you anything?”

“A drink would be great-just no more coffee, I’m already wired,” Julie replied.

Ray makes the same offer to Reggie who tries to demure, but Ray insists, and then goes off to fetch them some juice. Julie partially wishes he had stayed, to hold his hand during this, but she also knew he needed a moment so she let him be.

“So where do you want it?” Reggie asked.

Julie decided that she’d prefer to get the tattoo on her shoulder blade. Easy enough to cover with a shirt, but also could be shown off whenever she wanted to without being immodest. Reggie hummed as he prepped her skin, a soft lilting tune that Julie recognized, humming along with him. He chuckled and then started singing softly, a warm tenor that made Julie melt. She decided to join in, the words coming easy.

“Wow, that’s quite a set of pipes you have,” Reggie said as she finished the chorus. “Please tell me you’re sharing that voice on the nightly somewhere.”

“I do the occasional open mic, but I actually just graduated with a degree in Graphic Design and Illustration,” Julie replied. “I’m helping a friend by doing pictures for their kids book, and designing ads once I land a job mostly.”

The needle started to buzz, and Julie sucked in a breath. Reggie laid a soothing hand on her other shoulder, the warmth of his hand bleeding through the thin latex glove. The first touch of the needle wasn’t too bad-just like a cat scratch, but the sound went right through her, making Julie hiss through gritted teeth.

“Want me to stop?” Reggie asked in a low voice.

“No-just distract me?”

“That I am great at. So-graphic design huh? Did you always want to be an artist?”

“I mean, when I was a kid I wanted to be a dolphin,” Julie quipped, and she heard Reggie chuckle. “But I always loved art, and then I designed a logo for a local company in a contest and won. Got noticed by a few other firms, and they offered to pay my way if I would work for them part time. I have a few offers, but I don’t know where I’m going yet.” The needle stopped for a moment, Reggie wiping over her skin in a feather light motion. “What about you? Did you always want to do tattoos?”

“I mean I’ve been drawing on my skin for as long as I can remember,” Reggie said with an audible smile. “So I guess so. I like it, it gives me a way to make art that lasts, that’s personal and tells a story.”

“Ever done anyone famous?”

“None that I can talk about.” The needle stopped buzzing again. “There, the outline of the circle is done. I’m going to start the flag now, unless you need a break?”

“Just to stretch my arms out,” Julie said, doing so, sighing when she heard her back crack. “Alright, let’s keep going.”

The rest of their time was punctuated with chatter. Reggie telling her about his internship at a parlor in Ventura, Julie talking about some of her classes. Plus lots of little getting to know you questions. Julie still didn’t get the whole Star Wars thing, but was shocked when Reggie confessed to never having seen her favourite movie, The Princess Bride.

“How?” she gasped. “It’s a classic! Most quotable movie ever!”

“Never got around to it I guess. We-we didn’t have a lot growing up, and the Star Wars movies were the few we owned, so they became a staple of my childhood. I know of Princess Bride, but it’s one of those movies I never watched,” he offered in explanation.

“Well when you’re back in LA we are definitely sitting down and watching it, and I will sit through one Star Wars movie in exchange,” Julie said.

“Oooh, now I have to pick just one?” Reggie whined. “Gotta go with Empire Strikes Back then, it’s the best one.”

“I’ll bring the popcorn,” Julie said. “You bring the drinks.”

“Sounds like a fun date,” Reggie said, pulling the needle away. “We’re almost done, by the way. Only the smiley face left.”

“Really?” Julie asked. “Wow, time really flew.”

“It usually does when you’re having fun,” Reggie quipped. He stretched out his long limbs and Julie was glad she turned her head to watch, seeing his straining muscles, the sliver of skin as his shirt rode up, the flash of more ink sitting against his hip.

“How many tattoos do you have?” she asked once they were back at it.

“A couple,” Reggie said. “One for MeeMaw, one for my best friends that we all got on one of our twenty first birthday bashes. A few others. They get a bit addictive honestly.”

“Did you design them all yourself?”

“Nope, just the one for our friend group, and my little Millennium Falcon one that is flying over my thigh.” Julie heard the needle stop, then a gentle touch wiping over her skin, Reggie’s other hand still a comforting presence on her opposite shoulder. “You’re done, by the way.”

“Can I see it?”

Reggie brought her a few mirrors, and Julie let a smile burst forth as she saw the small patch of colour now marking her shoulder. The skin around it was inflamed with redness, but Reggie assured her it would fade with time, as long as she took care of it. Then he bit his lip, and looked at her with wide eyes. “Would you be okay if I took a photo for my portfolio?”

“Knock yourself out,” Julie said, and turned her head to the side, seeing Reggie pull out his phone, taking a couple of shots. Julie could feel his eyes burning into her skin and blushed as she let him look, the small sound of his phone camera and their breathing the only sound.

“O-okay, let’s get you wrapped up,” Reggie said, covering the tattoo, his touch lingering on her skin for just a moment longer than necessary, making Julie shiver as his callouses slid against the now sensitive part of her body. Tried not to notice how Reggie croaked his way through the after care instructions.

Finally they came from out back, and went to the counter. Paulo gives Reggie a knowing look, and passes him a bottle of juice. He pointed to where Ray was sitting out in the sun, Julie’s juice sitting next to him. “Your papi paid for you both a while back. Said he’d wait for you.”

Julie leveled her father with a look that made him laugh, and then turned back to Reggie, handing him a few bills, plus her card. “As a tip,” she said with a wink. “See you in LA?”

“I sure hope so,” Reggie replied. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation Julie.”

Back in LA, Julie’s mind kept drifting back to Reggie in San Juan. His crooked grin, his easy affable nature, his full looking lips and lamented that he hadn’t called her yet. Then again, maybe he was still there? Maybe he had been joking about the date? No matter, she would still think of him fondly every time she caught sight of her tattoo (which her aunt nearly had a conniption over, but what was done was done) and went on with her life.

It was only a few days later that she got a text from an unknown number. Still up for that movie date?

Julie definitely was, and texted him back straight away.

Reggie, it turned out, loved The Princess Bride. Julie still wasn’t a big Star Wars fan, but she found that The Empire Strikes Back was an excellent movie to make out to. Reggie heartily agreed, not even complaining that Julie had still not seen the whole movie.

They had time after all.

However, after a few weeks of dating, Reggie seemed nervous. Shyly asking Julie if she wanted to go to an art exhibit with him. “Sounds fun cariño, why not?”

They went to a local museum, but there was no one there. “Are we early? Or late?” Julie questioned.

“Pretty early,” Reggie replied, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. “It doesn’t technically open until tomorrow, but I know a guy who said he’d let me have a sneak peek.” He guided her in, his large hand spanning the small of her back. She caught a glimpse of the exhibit name; Paint & Ink, but not of the artist as Reggie brought her inside.

The lights flickered on, and Julie gasped. The walls were covered in paintings and photos. Each piece was exquisite, splashes of colours in the more abstract pieces, but then came the portraits. A scruffy looking guy playing guitar with deep concentration. A pair of figures dancing together in a swath of lights, a cheeky grin offering a hand.

“Reggie, these are beautiful,” Julie said, “I hope the artist knows how talented they are.”

“I’m sure they do,” Reggie said, leading her to the photographs.

A still shot of a skateboarder in the rays of the setting sun, mid air with no ground beneath them, a set of fingers on the fret board of a rhythm guitar, a broken set of drumsticks.

Then she saw it.

A black and white shot of a tattoo… her tattoo. The ink itself was in full colour, but the expanse of her shoulder, her neck, the small smile she had on her face was left in black and white. You couldn’t see above her cupid’s bow, but there was no mistaking that it was her.

She turned to see Reggie, fingers twisting together as he looked at her anxiously. “Do you like it?”

“Reggie…” she breathed out. “Is all of this yours?” He nodded shyly. “I thought you were a tattoo artist.”

“I mean, I am, and I love it! But that’s what I do to pay the bills. This,” he waved to the plethora of art surrounding them, “this is my passion.”

Julie turned back to the picture of her, then back to him. “Don’t let anyone buy this one, I want to keep it.”

“That one isn't for sale anyways,” Reggie replied, taking a step closer. “The artist loves it too much.” He tentatively wound his arms around her waist. “You’re not mad right?”

Julie shook her head, twisting her head around. “No-just reeling from it all. But… I’m glad the artist loves it.”

“And you,” he whispered against her ear, lips brushing against the skin, making her shudder. “From the moment I set my eyes on you, I knew.”

“Reggie,” Julie breathed out, letting her eyes flutter closed. “Te amo.”

And well, Reggie didn’t need to know Spanish to understand her, and swept her into a passionate kiss, making Julie’s toes curl in her heels. Her breath came out heavy and laboured as they pulled away, noses brushing, overwhelmed with feeling as her eyes stared into his.

“Show me the rest,” she whispered, and Reggie gave her the softest smile showing her all his other creations. But in the end, the one titled “Beauty in San Juan” would always be her favourite. It was the first piece she hung in the home they came to share together.

At least until they added the shot of their intertwined hands showing off their freshly inked wedding rings.

#my stuff #fanfic #writing #rulie #julie and the phantoms

11 notes · View notes

bonickhausen · 9 months ago

Text

I AM MY OWN PROFILER

"Although the word "optimization" shares the same root as "optimal", it is rare for the process of optimization to produce a truly optimal system." hello again!

this year has been good so far. many good things have happened up until this point and i feel like a healthier person. i feel like i've gotten better at identifying problems within me and sorting them out. i'm trying to be analytical when looking at myself and i feel like it's paying off. i turn 29 this year! took me 29 years to learn not to freak the fuck out with myself.

i'm trying to take care of myself so that i can survive whatever comes next. i've been listening to my body more and i've been giving myself some rest so that i can do what has to be done with happiness and energy. balance- balance is the word and it's been jumping around in my head for a while now, as cheesy as it may sound, yes, balance really is the key for so much in life.

ironically, it seems like duality has turned into a recurring theme for me: i see duality in so much. i see duality in me. in how i am- in how my acts and mannerisms often resemble my mom or dad's, so so much. in how i see life: balancing between the creator me and the person me. in my faults. in my thoughts and in my dreams and in my possibilities. i am two and i am a mediator.

i got another cat. her name is "dona petrópolis". her old name at the adoption site was "petrópolis" and despite the fact that i'm not a huge fan of that name, i decided to keep it: someone else had already given her that name and i figured i shouldn't just re-name her so i just added a prefix.

dona doesn't leave her room yet as i have another cat and i'm slowly trying to introduce them so that they dont just hiss at each other.

i got back into sports. i loved running around when i was a kid, how the fuck did i go 20+ years with my ass stuck on a chair?!? physical exercise has done wonders to my head.

(plus i get to smack people now!)

i have at last unfucked my sleeping schedule, this time for good. bed around midnight, waking at 8 every day weekends also. doc said i should so i did- i'd rather get some angry scolding from the doctor rather than truly shitty news a few years from now on. the sunlight makes me feel great and i try to get all my work done before noon.

i no longer use unity in my personal projects. decided to bite the bullet and move to unreal for good. not looking back.

i tolerate my social mistakes more now. everybody fucks up, so what. that person in the subway is never going to see my face again, fuck it.

i've been watching more movies. could watch even more but i'm picky and i hate watching things just for the hell of it or to, gasp, study. fuck that. if i'm not enjoying it, fuck it. i'd like to take a stab at working with movies one day though- i guess i'd have far more fun making one rather than just watching things all the time.

i've been looking into buying an apartment. not now -because i can't afford one yet- but over the next few years. i like living in big cities and i guess i can say i like são paulo, now that i've actually explored it a bit. i'd like to stay here for the unforeseeable future.

(unless i get a job invitation from remedy entertainment. i'd go to helsinki in a flash)

i live alone now. i thought i wouldn't get used to it but i did- i actually got used to it really fast. i like sleeping all by myself because i can stretch my body as much as i want and i'm not disturbed by snoring. i have my own rhythm and i dont have to take anyone into account. i've always wanted to live with someone but you know what? i think i've been wrong all along. i like having the place all to myself. it's going to remain like this for a good while.

however, there is one particular issue that hasn't yet been solved and it probably never will. it is a problem of great complexity and i'm afraid that it probably has no solution at this point. i see many problems that have yet to be solved but this one is the only one in which i see no viable way out and it is a shame. i feel frustrated by problems with no solutions because, as i've probably mentioned before, i feel like problem solving has become part of my identity at this point. not only that but this is a very personal problem which only makes it sting more. i am constantly reminded of it but arh well! nothing remains now except for our regrets.

maybe when i turn 40 i'll have learned how to deal with it. maybe that's how most people deal with problems like these- they just wait until forgetfulness rids them of it. maybe when i'm 50 it'll turn into a mild discomfort in the back of my head and maybe when i'm 70 i'll have no memory of it at all. for problems like these, problems with no solution at all, maybe the only way out is to forget.

it still feels like a shitty way out though. at least i'll have until 2065 to figure something out.

good stuff! talking's good. we should talk more. talk more soon!

#personal

1 note · View note

bathrobe-hero · 1 year ago

Text

This is another entry for the pokemon workshop writting contests with the promt

"As the night settles and the moon rises, there is something that's not as it seems."

Camping under the moon

It was a full moon, seven months since Abby had started her journey. She had been through a lot and was used to camping out now. The tent was secured just fine with only a bit of wind, the rain had stopped and it wasn't too cold. She and her team had been through a lot worse. Nothing felt wrong. If only Riot would agree.

“You wont fit in the tent please just going into your ball.” But the Arcanine was not listening. All she got back was a huff.

“Come on even Paulo is in his ball. There nothing out there” She could feel the Porygon wriggled in his ball on her belt knocking the ball next to it, the Joltik inside giving a knock back. “Shocky don’t encourage him.”

Something in a bush behind them moved, getting both of there attention.

The bush, moved gently in the wind

“See it was nothing” Abby said as she turned back trying to convince herself it was all ok. Riot however still disagreed, walking up to the bush and sniffing it before letting out a growl. Nothing came out of the bush. It was empty

“It was probably just a pokemon in there earlier. Must have gone to sleep as should we” She held out his pokeball as on offer for him to enter. She wasn't going to force him in if he really didn’t want to.

NAME looked down at it, but decided not to and moved on to sit by the entrance of the tent. Intent on guarding it tonight.

“Well if you insist on staying out tonight. But don’t blame if it starts to rain.” She gave him a sympathetic look, but there was no convincing him that a nice and comfortable ball was going to be better that outside tonight. “Good night then” She gave one last look before heading in. But in doing so, seeing something in the shadows move. “Its just the trees” She whisper to herself.

Abby woke to a noise outside. Movement and lot of it. “Riot? You ok?” There was no response. Sticking her head out side the tent, Riot was no were to be seen. “Riot you there?” It was quite, he had gone somewhere in a rush. “This is not good. Shocky, Paulo I need your help.” She took their pokeballs and let out them. Shocky giving a big yawn and stretch as she woke up, her yellow fur in a ruff sate. Paulo was still asleep. Head down and little snores came out of the Porygon.

“Hey buddy wake up” Abby gave him a gentle shake to wake him. He fidgeted a little but did not open his eyes.

Shocky took this as her chance to wake him and get revenge for knocking her ball. The Joltik leaped onto to him and climbed to his back to let out a small shock.

“BEEEEEP!” Paulo flew off the floor, beeping in alarm as he threw Shocky off and onto the ground, she was giggling to herself. He glared down at her, fully ready to fight her again.

“Hey come on you two don’t fight.” After they stared down each other for a second they both relaxed and were ready to listen to Abby. “So I heard something outside and now Riot is gone.” she was tensing up as she said it. “So we need to go look for him” Both nodded in agreement as Paulo came to her side and Shocky climbing up to her shoulder.

“Thanks” She breathed a sigh of relief “Im guessing he went, This way.” The bush from before had been burnt down leaving only faint embers glowing. Abby got out a torch and turned it on, revealing tracks that could only belong to an Arcanine.

The tracks went on for a while, the occasional burn marks on the surrounding but no other signs of fighting. As if Riot was the only one chasing. The three of them stayed close together not been able to see much further than the torch.

As the way started to become more rocky they started to notice flashes of fire, Riot. Abby started running rover the rocks to get to him

“Riot!” She was sprinting now, almost slipping on the rocks until she could see the Arcanine in an open part, surrounded by what little plant life could grow here on fire lighting the arena. “Are you hurt?”

He looked her way when his name was called, Abby could see he was panting, but had no injuries.

“What’s going on? Were you fighting someone?”

He answer with a flamethrower. It going past Abby and straight for Paulo who had to drop to the floor to doge it.

“What's gotten into you?” She was getting scared, he never acted like this before. Paulo began protesting with more angry beeping flying up to his face. But Riot just ignored him and walk past. “ Riot pleas tell me what wrong. Its ok to….”

She didn’t get chance to finish as Riot tackled her to the ground. “What was that for!” but a second later a boulder landed where she had been, shattering on impact. “W-what!” It took her a second to realise they were under attack. And off in the distance, standing tall was someone, silhouetted by the moonlight standing tall. Its red fur and large white mane lit bright.

“AWWWOOOOOO!” Its howl was deafening. Abby reached for her pokedex, only to realise it wasn’t there. She has left it in the tent in her rush out.“Dam it. Ok we are just going to have to do this blind. Riot, Shocky, Paulo you ready?” They all took up positions ready for a fight. Waiting for it to start.

“Paulo Psybeam!” The Proygon shot out a ray of psychic energy, but it was too far away and the pokmeon simply jump out of the way, the beam passing by harmlessly.

“Riot, Flamethrower. Hit them in the air” The Arcanine go did hit, engulfing them in flame as they hit the grown. Now much closer to them

“Electroweb them Shocky. Don t let them get away!” As the fire stopped, a web of electricity came to tangle the target, trapping them.

“Yeah good work you three” But the celebration didn’t last long the pokemon simply ripped out of the webbing like it was nothing and let of another howl.

“AAWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Even in the night they could all see dark energy forming around its fangs. Faster than before it leaped at Riot. There was no time to react as it crunched down on the Arcanine drawing blood.

“Riot!”Abby panicked. She didn’t have potions they still were back at the tent. Without needing to be told Paulo let off another Psybeam, this time hitting and having them let go. Riot retaliate, knocking them away.

The pokemon let out a nasty snarl as it turned and started running away. An Electro Ball quickly followed but fell short of hitting.

“It ran.” Most pokemon would stay and fight until they get knocked out. “Ah! Riot are you hurt?” The wound looked bad as he limped on the leg that got bit. “We need to get that healed. Come on it will be faster in your ball.” This time Riot had no objections to going in. “Ok you two, stay close they might still be out there.”

Abby started to run back to her tent, trying to be careful not to slip on any rocks as she held Riot pokeball tight. It didn’t occur to her that this was also the way the pokemon ran back.

When they got back to the campsite it was a disaster. There was stuff everywhere. Abbys bag laid open on the floor, its contents scattered everywhere, and the tent had crumbled into a pile, something moving inside.

Putting her finger to her lips to tell the others to stay quiet, she started to tiptoe to her bag, hoping to find a potion in it. Thankfully the bag wasn't damaged, just thrown about. She started to pull the content out to find one. A towel, some food, her pokedex.

“Lycanroc the midnight pokemon. Lycanrocs have an extremely vicious temperament. They will happily sustain injuries for the sake of...” Abby started hitting buttons until to mute it. The moving in the tent stopped, listening to the pokedex.

Shocky jump off Abby and readied herself for another fight with the one now in their tent. Paulo stayed by Abby, without Riot able to fight now he would have to be the one to keep her safe. The lump moved closer to the entrance, sticking it head out to see who was making so much noise.

“Ruff!” The little head shouted.

“Rockruff, the puppy pokemon. This pokemon is popular for young trainers or its easiness to train, but can have a sour mood as it get older” The pokedex lit up again, gaining the attention of the Rockruff, happily looking over at them.

“That isn’t the one who attacked us right? It was definitely bigger” Paulo nodded and beeped in agreement, this wasn't the one who attacked them earlier.

The Rockruff finally got free of the tent, tail wagging and it approached Shock who was trying her best to look big and threatening. As it started to sniff only an inch away Shock let out a small shock to scare it away.

“Raaa!” It shouted in surprised as it jump away, pawing at it stinging nose.

“Shocky stay back! They could be dangerous” Scuttling back the Joltik hid under Paulo for protection.

After the Rockruff stopped rubbing its snout, its look back at them, with caution and curiosity again. Shocky fluffed up threateningly which made it whine in sadness. But it didn’t growl or make any other signs it was angry.

Realising its may actually be friendly, Abby began to approach. Paulo lifted an arm to block her, shaking his head. “Beep.”

“No its ok Paulo, this is just like when we meet Shocky remember?”

Paulo look softened as he did remember how they meet the Joltik. Cold and hungry. Having climbed onto Riot for warmth after stealing some of his food. Lowering his arm to let her pass. He let out was last sound of concern. “Boop?”

“Hey there? What are you doing out here all alone?” She kelt down and held out a hand for it to smell. “Were you looking for food?”

“Ruff!” It happily barked back. Abby got the feeling this could be the meeting of their next pokemon partner. A smile slowly creeping onto her face. “Would you like some of mine?”

The Rockruff started spinning in circles barking “Raf! Ruff! Raf!” Paulo and Shocky watched from the side, still unsure if this was a good idea.

Abby reached for her bag were she found a loose packet of snacks earlier, only to notice something in the shadows moving towards her. Fist glowing with the same dark energy as before. Abby stumbled back away as both Shock and Paulo launched off attacks.

The Lycanroc changed target, hitting Paulo in the face with a sucker punch, knocking the Porygon to the ground.

It now stood between them and the Rockruff, bearing teeth and growling. They stayed there, still. No one daring to move.

The Rockruff finally decided to make a sound. “Raff?” It was enough for the Lycanroc to attack again. Launching forwards with its teeth.

A flash of fire erupted from Riot ball as he came out to take the hit instead of Abby. This time being able to throw the Lycanroc off. Now stood, with Abby behind the Arcanine and the Rockruff behind Lycanroc. They looked at each other, talking without words. Riot looked to me, Lycanroc to her pup. And without looking back left, the Rockruff happily following behind with the snack bag in their mouth.

“Was she just trying to protect her child?” Riot nodded. “And you protected me?” He nodded again. “Oh thank you” She hug him. And while he didn’t have any arms to hug back, he could still lean in. “Well, I think its best we tidied up here a bit now. And find that potion for you.”

They tried there best to put the tent back up, but it wasn't going to stay up like it used too.

“Well its better than nothing.” Paulo shook his head disagreeing. “Yeah, next town we need a new one.” She sighed in defeat, they hadn’t had that one for that long. “But for tonight at lest, do you all want to stay out with me?”

They all cuddles up together, barely fitting in the broken tent. But finally they could rest for the night.

#txt #my writing #pokemon #pokemon workshop

0 notes