#nevada ramirez fanfic

[storiesofsvu]

🎶🗑️ For the fanfic ask game you just reblogged😊 I love your writing. Every single one. But my fave is still, unashamedly (maybe a little shame), is Toxic Heather 😔

-What music do you listen to when you write?-

generally i'm listening to ambience noise/music. sometimes it's ocean waves, sometimes it's brown noise. others it's "lounge jazz" or something depending on the mood of the fic. I also do have playlists specifically for stories that sometimes i'll listen to, or the genre of the fic. but i've found recently that i work best with something without lyrics. i get too distracted if i'm not focused lol.

-what is one fic idea that you loved at first but then scrapped?-

oooo...honestly i'm not sure!! i think it'd likely be the Parent Trap "AU"

one involving an ncis x svu crossover where abi borin and casey novak discover they have a twin no one knew about. it was likely going to be more leaning toward fun, comedic, that kinda vibes.

same background but with barba and nevada ramirez from trouble in the heights. but in that one nevada would obviously use the twin to his advantage lol.

thank you so much!! <3

omg. toxic heather. we shouldn't love you but WE FUCKING DO. jfc. i miss her...

[rafivadafreddy]

Pretty Little Psycho.

A Nevada Ramirez and Nettie Perez Story. Part Four.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three Masterlist

Summery: Nettie worries while being stuck in the hospital, and for good reason. Word Count: 1,390 Warnings: violence, cursing, panic attack. POV jumps.

Nevada:

As he watched the girl lay there on the bed in front of him, Nevada couldn’t help but felt a pang in his chest. Nettie had come close to losing her life, why? Because she was seen with him, because his enemies were trying to hurt him? Wouldn’t be the first time this happened.

“mierda(shit)…” he mumbled and stood up. Running a hand through his hair, Nevada looked at Miguel. “I need you to stay around and keep an eye on her. OK?” he told the guy who nodded.

“OK but… jefe(boss), what if someone tries to stop by?” Miguel asked, obviously curious and oblivious at the same time.

“mira aquí(look here) the only people who should show up here are Camila and Dalvin from the café shop. Her family is dead from the information that was pulled up. So. No one comes in here unless it’s the fucking nurse and doctor! ¿Lo entiendes?(you understand?)” he spat at the man in front of him who nodded and kept his mouth shut.

Leaving the hospital room, Nevada left the building and pulled out a cigar. Lighting it up, he took in a long drag before looking around. Nothing unusual. Heading to his car, where his men were waiting. Nevada got in and didn’t look back at the hospital. It would be the last time he would see the girl. He couldn’t help but feel as if this happened was because of him.  

The information he had pulled up about Nettie wasn’t too much. Just the usual records and how every single person in her family was dead aside from her.

Sending a message to one of his men, telling them to go to the girls' house to fix up anything broken. Nevada couldn’t help but feel a weird sensation in his stomach and chest as they drove away from the hospital. Shaking his head and continuing to smoke his cigar, Nevada asked them to drive him home so he could rest and forget about the last few days.

Nettie:

By the time she was finally coming to from her sleep like state, it had been two weeks since the attack. Not that Nettie knew that of course, she only remembered a strange dream and knows of how dry her mouth felt. With a groan, she tried to move but found herself slowly fall back asleep. Nurses were rushed in and Nettie could feel them messing with her, but she just didn’t have the strength to stay awake.

Never seeing the man in her room who watched the whole thing happen and was quick to deliver the message to Nevada that she had woken up.

By the next time Nettie woke up, it was a day later, and she found that waking up was a lot easier this time around. With a nurse walking into the room as she was trying to sit up, the older women rushed over to help Nettie. “Careful sweetie… you took quick a kick to the head and plenty of stitches.” She spoke and Nettie just felt like her head was throbbing.

“Hum… I- I don… “but her throat felt as if was filled with cotton and each time she tried to speak, it felt worse and worse. Like it was being scratched and trying to be ripped open from the inside.  

Once a cup of water was almost drowned, bit Nettie was sure to drink slowly. Small sips until the cup she held was empty.

“Good! Now, just stay there and relax. A doctor should be by soon to check on you.” Nurse Elizabeth smiled kindly to Nettie, who just nodded and with the help from the nurse before leaving. Nettie was sitting up against the pillows behind her. She tried to remember what had happened to her.  

Remembering the run in with Nevada, the cleaning of her home and going out to eat. It was going back home that things became blurry.  

Looking around her hospital room, Nettie took in the flowers sitting beside the bed They were gorgeous and she found herself shocked to see them. There were quite a few flowers around her room now that she was actually paying attention to her surroundings.

When the nurse returned, Nettie asked the question that had been bothering her. “Why am I in my own room? I... I can’t afford this.” she told the nurse and felt the worry bubble up in her. She was scared. Nervous. Surely the money Nevada stoked away in her bag wouldn’t cover the hefty hospital bill she would be getting.

“Don’t worry about that. The man who brought you in already took care of everything.”   

Only that just made Nettie worry even more. Who the hell brought her to the hospital?

Panicking, she didn’t even notice the heart monitor that she was hooked up to starting to pick up. A tear made its way down her cheek. The only thing Nettie noticed was the way her throat felt like it was closing up as she gasped for air and like the room was closing in on her. Her body was shaking with fear, wondering if they were back. Memories of her attack came back like flashes in her mind.

The nurse quickly jumped into action when noticing what was happening and tried to help the girl calm down. Though nothing worked.

Miguel’s POV:

Looking into the room, the man who was told to be kept on watch. He frowned. Seeing Nettie panic, the look of sheer horror in her eyes, as if she was in some kind of danger. Not that he blamed the girl, no. Miguel had a feeling that she was worried about what had happened and being in the hospital alone, well. He didn’t blame her. After watching the nurse give the girl a sedative, Miguel felt sick.  

Grabbing his phone, he sent a message to Nevada.

‘jefe(boss), she’s not doing too good. Had to be medicated. Maybe you should come down and tell her she has nothing to worry about?’

Once the text was sent to Nevada, Miguel paced around the hallway. None of the nurses, doctors or securities bothered him. They knew who put him there to guard the girl's door. Though he went down the hall and turned the corner, finding the vending machine and got himself some snacks. Now that Nettie was drugged up to sleep, he would have nothing to do... again.

Hearing a nurse ask a man who he was and why he was on their floor. Miguel dropped his snacks and rushed over to Nettie’s hospital room.  

There before him was a white man with greying hair, clean shaven and an expensive suit. “I’m her father. I got word that she’s been hospitalized.”

“I suggest you leave.” Miguel spoke up, stepping into the room. Eyes narrowed as he eyed the man. “Her whole family are dead.” he added, the nurse gasped and went to call security as the unknown man pulled a gun and started to shoot at Miguel and the nurse.

As a bullet hit his arm, Miguel was able to pull out his own gun with his other unarmed arm and killed the guy. “cabrón!(fucker)” he yelled and dropped his gun and gripped at his bleeding arm.

Breathing heavily, nurses, doctors and secutiry came rushing in and Miguel was on the phone with Nevada. Telling him what had happened.

“¿Qué diablos quieres decir con que tuviste que matar a alguien?!(what the hell do you mean you had to kill someone?)” Trujillo yelled on the other end, grumbling on about how he would be there soon.

As they hung up, Miguel was both stitched and bandaged. The man sat beside Nettie in her room, making sure he was facing the door. Already worried for what Nevada was going to do when arriving. He almost let some guy kill Nettie.

“Dios mío(my god)....” he groaned, already hearing his boss nearing.

“Well, Miguel! Want to explain to me just how Nettie here almost died... if you’ve been watching her the whole time!” Nevada demanded to know and Miguel refused to meet his eyes. “I mean... there’s a bathroom here in the room for you to use! Food is sent to you three times a fucking day! What more do you want?”  

Though when Miguel went to answer, Nevada told him to just get out and go home. Which was what Miguel did.

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart​ @garturbo​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​

[eclecticminded]

Forgotten

anonymous asked: Read your most recent fic and I loved it! Could we get a prequel where Nevada forgot their anniversary ?

anonymous asked: Prompt - Nevada forgets his and the reader’s anniversary

Let’s get some minor angst and fluff up in here!! Hope y’all like this!

Nevada forgets your first anniversary.

Words:1162

Warnings Food and alcohol mention. Cursing.

Tags: @southsiderepresent @glimmerglittergirl @madpanda75  @southern-magnolia @katmstanton @esparza-army @sweetsummertime99  @obfuscateyummy @lifeisbetterwithbarba  @lyssa1385  @hux-me-up   @bowieisawizard @sleepylunarwolf @mrsrafaelbarba anyone else ask!

Also I have a Kofi (link in blog description) if anyone wants to donate!

It wasn’t unusual for Nevada to forget things like dates every now and again. But he usually remembered the important things. That’s why when he made no mention of your anniversary the week leading up to it, you figured he was just planning a surprise. The morning of he kissed you goodbye and rushed out. Surely there would be flowers sent to work? Or a surprise lunch?

 When you got home sans no contact other than the standard conversation, you decided to take matters into your own hands. His favorite dinner was made and prepared while you waited and waited. At nine he finally responded to your myriad of texts saying he’d be late because he was out with friends. You appetite was suddenly lost as the candles burned out. It was like they were taunting you.

 Angrily you scrawled a message on the notepad from the fridge and tossed it on the table. You did the dishes, banging them harder than necessary, and went to bed. Fuck Nevada. It was your first anniversary and he forgot. Who does that? You cried yourself to sleep.

 Nevada came stumbling in after midnight a little drunk. He was frustrated you hadn’t responded to his messages or answered his calls; you’d turn your phone off after the third one. He called for you and you didn’t answer, that was his first clue something was wrong. The second was staring him in the face when he flipped the light on. On the kitchen table sat two plates of his favorite foods, including dessert; both untouched. There were candles burned out and wax pooled on the table. A wrapped box sat next to a note.

Thanks for forgetting our anniversary. Nice to know where I stand, going out with your friends instead.  Sleep on the fucking sofa.

 “Shit,” Nevada swore under his breath. He knew your anniversary was soon, but he didn’t realize it was today. He opened the box to find a framed picture from your first date, him glowering while you licked ice cream off his cheek mid-laugh. A small card said it was for his desk, to remember you by.  He’d really fucked up this time. He tried the bedroom door and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. He hung his head and plopped down on the sofa.

 The next morning you snuck out for work, careful not to wake Nevada. The day was dragging on, and after the afternoon meeting you were suddenly pulled into a hallway as you passed. At first you fought back, but saw it was Nevada and just glared.

 “What the fuck are you doing here,” you spat at him and he shrunk like a kicked puppy.

 “I’m sorry I forgot,” he pleaded and dropped his outstretched hands when you stepped away from him.

 “I think you’re just sorry I’m mad,” you lowered your eyes and started to storm away but he pulled you back.

 “Loca, y/n, please,” he seemed truly remorseful but you were still furious.

 “Let go of me! If it was important to you, you would have remembered,” your crossed arms let him know he was losing what little ground he had.

 “It is important! I thought it was next month! That’s when I took you to the fancy restaurant!”

 “It was yesterday, when we went for ice cream and you asked me to be yours after months of just being fuck buddies,” you lip quivered.

 “Oh,” his face fell.

 “Oh is right,” you sniffled.

 “Let me show you how sorry I am,” he grabbed your hip and pulled you to him.

 “You can’t make this better with sex Vada,” you shoved him away and he huffed.

 “Just put this fucking dress on, and tell your boss you’re leaving early,” he thrust a bag at you, from one of those fancy stores he take you to when he wants to spoil you.

 “Fine,” you stormed to your boss’s office and said you were leaving. In the bathroom you changed into the dress and heels, both red with black lace over them. Nevada had good taste, and he knew what you liked. Your makeup was easy enough to fix and you met him in the lobby, still mad.

 “For the lady,” Nevada offered you a single red rose and it softened your anger.

 “Thank you,” you smelled it and tried to hide your smile, “Still mad.”

 “I’ll make it up to you,” he led you to the waiting SUV and ushered you inside. Forty minutes later you were having a private dining experience at the nicest restaurant you’d ever seen. There were candles and dozens of roses in different colors around the table. Dinner was delicious, of course it was, Nevada was a foodie. The whole time he begged your forgiveness, laminating on why he loved you.

 “You’re your own person, you have your own life. You don’t want Trujillo, you want Nevada. You are the sweetest more beautiful and badass mujer I know. I’ll never forget again, lo prometo,” he brushed his lips across your knuckles for the hundredth time since you sat down.

 “How can you promise that,” you looked at him over the candle flames, “How can you be sure?”

 “Because,” he pulled out his phone, “It’s saved in my phone.”

 “You get new phones all the time,” you rolled your eyes.

 “Only family has this number, I keep it. It’s the number you have,” he smiled and put the phone away, pleased with himself.

 “I have all your numbers,” you chuckled and finished off your wine.

 “Am I forgiven,” his warm thumbs traced circles on your hand grasped between his own.

 “Just this once,” you nodded seriously.

 “Good,” he chuckled then his eyes lit up, “I forgot your gift.”

 “A gift,” you pulled your hand back to your lap and tilted your head to the side, “What is it?”

 “Open it,” he pushed a small blue box across the table at you and you raised an eyebrow in response. What you found inside made you gasp. A charm bracelet with three charms was nestled inside, a N, red heart, and your first initial.

 “It’s beautiful Vada,” you leaped across the table and kissed him, nearly singing your hair. He helped you put it on with a shit eating grin.

 “I ordered this last month,” he flipped your wrist over to admire how it looked, “Plenty of room to fill it with more charms.”

 “Thank you Vada baby, I love you,” you rose to your feet and stretched, “Let’s go home.”

 “I love you too, do I get to sleep next to you,” he threw an obscene amount of cash on the table and his men came out of nowhere to carry the roses out to a second SVU.

 “Maybe later,” you purred, “We have anniversary sex and make up sex to have.”

 “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he was scrambling after you with a huge smile, his eyes focused on your sashay.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Bad Bitch: Final Chapter

Thank you all for reading this! It means THE WORLD to me!

Nevada Ramirez x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Warning: Torture, Abuse

Nevada Catches up to you...

Read Chapter 8

Tags: @hot-cheeto-nevada @dreila03 @faith-loyalty @bullet-prooflove @skittle479 @miraxo-xo-supernatrual

You wake up to the stinging sensation of skin and metal against your cheek. Lite pats get stronger as your eyes flutter open, the colors and lights starting to merge together. You blink a couple of times and your environment comes into focus. Nevada is in front of you, bending over at the waist as he smacks you awake.

“Wake up, Mami.” He smiles as you come to.

You look down and realize that you’re completely naked, sitting in a poorly-made wooden chair that’s bolted to the ground. Harsh, jagged ropes tie your ankles and wrists to the chair. Oh, you think. So, THIS is how you’re going to die.

You look past Nevada and see that you’re in an old abandoned warehouse with a drain in the floor not too far from where you’re sitting. Miguel and one other man stand on the other side of the room with stoic faces and their arms crossed over their chests. It is almost funny how text-book this situation is for a drug lord like Nevada. It would be a lot funnier if it wasn’t going to be your own murder scene. The cops are going to find your body and call your parents back home, showing them the pictures of what your ‘boyfriend’ did to you. Maybe there won’t be a body left to show them. Maybe he plans on bleeding you out. Maybe he’s going to…

“I didn’t want to have to do this, y/n.” He starts, taking a step back and walking around you.

“Then don’t” You spit out, trying to follow him with your eyes.

He laughs and stops behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“I thought you were different, Mami. I thought you and I had something special…” He grabs your neck and presses a sharp blade against it. “And then you had to go off and do something stupid…” He grazes your neck with the scalpel like he’s about to give you a very close shave.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He moves the scalpel down your neck and stops at your clavicle. “Did you think I was too stupid to figure out you were fucking that spaghetti string cop?”

“Sonny? I’ve never even…” Where WAS Sonny? Where was Dodds? Wasn’t he supposed to stay with you all night so that this didn’t happen?

“Shh…” He lets go of your neck and pulls on your forehead. He kisses your cheek and presses the scalpel into your chest, drawing a scarlet red line across your skin.

You cry out, the sharp edge pulling fire into your chest as the viscous liquid drips onto your bare skin. This isn’t going to be easy. This isn’t going to be quick. He’s going to take his sweet time with you.

Nevada smiles against your cheek until he’s cut all the way to your shoulder. He kisses your mouth and brings the bloody scalpel in front of your face. “Look what you’re making me do, Mami.” He smears the blood on your cheek and lets go of you.

You gasp as the cool autumn air hits your open wound. A thousand tiny pin pricks followed by throbbing waves of pain wash over you as your predator circles your chair. The strain from the ropes pulls on your shoulders, making the cut stretch open even wider. You look down to assess the damage, and see that he hasn’t cut into your muscle yet. You take in a deep breath and look back up at him.

He takes his leather coat off and hands it to one of his men, laughing as he shoos them away. “Do you remember our first night together, Mami? What I said to you?” He twirls the bloody scalpel in between his fingers like a coin.

“Yes.” You watch his every move, hoping that for some reason he might change his mind.

“And what was that?” He walks up to you, his waist at eye level.

“You said ‘You don’t belong here Mami.’”

“And I was right, wasn’t I? I should have listened to my gut, right, Miguel?” He looks back at Miguel who nods. He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. His normally short stature towers over you in your bound position. “I should have listened, but I was too distracted by that face.” He bends down and looks at you.

“Should I cut you here?” He raises the scalpel to your mouth, threatening the Glasgow Smile. “No, I want them to recognize you when they find you.” He gets down on his knees and slides his hands up your thighs “Plus, I think I’ve done enough damage to that pretty little face, don’t you?”

You nod reluctantly and stare at him.

“Papi, please,” you try to appeal to him. You spread your legs as much as you can, and give him your best ‘come-hither’ look.

He stares at you with those deep green eyes, and for a second you think he might untie you and carry you out of the warehouse. For a second you think this is just another one of his sick games he likes to play before sex. For a second you forget he has a scalpel in his hand as he slides it up your thighs to your stomach.

“It’s too late for that.” He slices you sideways from your right rib to your left hip. Cutting through your muscle this time, he draws out a deafening scream from your lungs.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you feel your body begin to shake. Cold sweat drenches your skin and soaks the previously blood-stained ropes that hold you captive. Your internal organs convulse and threaten to burst out of your mouth. You feel Nevada’s fingers trace the outline of his handiwork and touch the inside of your skin.

“I think that’s as good a spot as any.” He brings his blood-soaked fingers to your lips. “Taste yourself.”

What the fuck? You struggle to keep your eyes open, but manage to look down at him. You shake your head in protest.

“Taste yourself!” He yells, his eyes brimming with tears.

You open your mouth reluctantly and feel his fingers enter. You know your blood should be salty and rich with iron, but you can’t seem to taste anything right now. You wonder if this is what it feels like to be in shock. You wonder how long you have left before he gets tired of this game and cuts you where it really counts.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and sucks on them as he stands up. A single tear falls down his cheek and into his beard. This is the last thing you’re going to see before you die. This sick excuse of a man crying in front of you as he slowly kills you. Great. Wonderful. Your parents would be so proud.

Nevada sets the scalpel down on a table next to you and pulls his gun out of his holster. He turns off the safety and pulls back the hammer. He takes in slow, shallow breaths as he looks you over, tracing your body with his pistol. He pauses on your nipples, your bloody navel, and stops in between your legs. He smirks a sad smile and gets back on his knees.

“Don’t.” You plead, shaking your head.

“No?” He smirks, his tears disappearing. He spreads your legs and slides the barrel of his gun inside of you. “You feel that, Mami? That’s my favorite gun inside my favorite place.” He raises his eyebrows and licks his lips.

You close your eyes and start to pray; to God, to Allah, to Buddha, to whoever will listen to you. You feel the salt of your tears drip into your chest wound, but try not to flinch. Any sudden movement will surely set Nevada and his gun off. The angle of his hand when the gun goes off will be the difference of how paralyzed or how dead you are going to end up.

“Step back from the girl, Ramirez.” That voice… it isn’t Nevada’s. It’s far away, and that accent, it’s… Sonny. Sonny is here.

“Sonny,” you whisper.

Nevada looks up and to your right. His face changes from confident to worried. You can’t see anyone else in the room, but you can hear a dozen footsteps entering the vacant warehouse.

“Step away from the girl.” Fin shouts, circling around behind him.

“Her knight in shining armor.” Nevada smirks in Sonny’s direction, shoving the gun deeper inside of you as the cold metal brushes against your cervix.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Sonny advances slowly, his footsteps getting louder.

“If you were me? You’d know exactly what that’s like, wouldn’t you, gringo? All those late-night phone calls she made to you? Your secret meetings behind my back?” He looks at you. “What? You think I didn’t know? Nothing happens in this town without me knowing about it. Nada!” His pulse is racing.

“I hear you, Ramirez. You’re a very powerful man, and I can respect that. But right now, I’m going to need you to take that gun out of y/n, and take a step back.”

“Multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen, somebody call a bus!” Rollins shouts into a walkie talkie, coming into view on your left. She holds her gun in front of her and keeps it trained on Nevada. Five other policemen including Dodds surround the two of you and form an impenetrable barricade.

Nevada smiles at you. “You think this guy can take care of you the way I did?”

“No, Papi.” You whisper. You do your best to fake a smile for him, but you can already feel yourself starting to fade away. The sound of your blood dripping onto the concrete floor echoes against the walls as the pressure of his gun lessens.

He slowly pulls the gun out of you and stands up, shoving it in your mouth just seconds before he’s stopped in his tracks. Blood splatters across your already beaten face as a bullet cuts into his temple.

“Nice shot, Carisi.” Fin praises.

Nevada’s eyes are still open, his mouth ajar as if her were about to speak one last time. His body leans toward Rollins before it eventually collapses in front of you. The gun is still in his hand, covered in your blood.

You let out the longest sigh of your life as you feel Sonny cut you free from your ropes. “It’s okay, y/n, he’s gone.” He cuts your hands free and starts on your chest. He unzips his police jacket and drapes it over you before cutting your legs and ankles free.

“Can we get a medic over here?!” He yells out, rubbing your arms to warm you up. He walks in front of you and holsters his weapon, holding your hand as the paramedic team lifts you onto a stretcher. “You’re going to be just fine, y/n. You’re free.”

“I’m free?”

He squeezes your hand and hops into the ambulance with you. “Yeah, doll, you’re free.”

[youreverycolor]

OK, I need to reblog this one too with comments because WHAT IS THIS LITERAL TRASH (I mean, Nevada. You’re amazing, @madpanda75).

1. Holy FUCK, him making her blow him while she’s wearing the costume. I can’t even tell you how hot that is.

2. The idea of her wearing full on bondage lingerie underneath this sweet housewife garb is HOOOOOT.

3. This might be the hardest fuck I’ve ever read, and that is SAYING SOMETHING. The dirty talk! The imagery! The orgasm ripping! This is pure, smutty deliciousness.

4. I need Captain Nevada now, plskthx.

AGAIN an amazing story.

“Fifties Fantasy”

I’ve had this idea for awhile about my favorite dirty trashcan, Trujillo. What if Nevada had a secret guilty pleasure for wholesome cheesy tv shows and the reader catches him.

Warning: NSFW Rough sex, Knife play

You and Nevada hadn’t been together long. In fact, you were the first person in years to be given the title of “girlfriend” by the powerful drug lord. It was a whirlwind relationship and soon Trujillo was asking you to move in with him. Boundaries having been crossed, you both were able to open up to each other in a way you had never experienced before.

Living with Nevada was different than just dating him. The drug lord was more relaxed at home, his sanctuary away from his life of crime. He would dance with you in the kitchen while you were cooking and sing to himself in the shower. He would also never hang up his leather jacket, which led to a bit of a tiff between you both.

Keep reading

[inactive-shroomiehomie]

Cramps

Warnings: menstruation

Pairing: Nevada Ramirez x Reader

Summary: It's that time of the month for the reader and they need some stuff. Nevada has no idea what he's doing, but he's trying his best okay.

Word Count: 772

A/N: I'm dead serious when I say this, I had a dream about this scenario and now I'm putting it into writing. Also, Nevada is slightly annoying to write for lol. Also after my last post, I think you guys could use a little fluff! :]

The sound of your painful whimpering made Nevada bolt up out of his sleep. He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and looked around the room for you. His face scrunched up slightly and he rolled out of bed, grabbing his boxers off of the floor. He pulled them on and walked out of his bedroom to look for you.

"Mami? Where you at?" He called, "Whatsa matter?"

Your whines could be heard from the bathroom before you spoke, "I-In here, 'Vada."

Nevada made his way to the bathroom door and started to open it before you spoke again.

"No! Don't... don't come in here."

He looked at the door like it had just smacked him, "Why the fuck not? Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” You sighed, “No, just-just come in.”

Nevada flung open the bathroom door to see you curled up into yourself next to the bathtub. He was at your side in two strides, kneeling down to cup your face and assess the situation.

“Hermosa, what’s going on with you?” Nevada’s words were caring, but his tone seemed more defensive than anything.

You sniffled, wrapping your arms tighter around your torso. “It’s just,” You paused, looking up into his woodland moss colored eyes. “That time of the month for me...ya know?”

Nevada stared at you for a moment. You shriveled a bit under his gaze. Was he mad at you? Did he think you were disgusting? You didn’t know what to think until he carefully scooped you up in his arms. You whimpered at the new angle, your insides feeling like a knife was continuously being twisted within them.

“‘Vada what-”

“You could have just started out with that.” He scoffed, walking you both out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. “You had me thinking some fucker broke in here and hurt you.”

A visible pout formed on your lips and you pressed into his chest. “I’m sorry, Nevada. I thought you would’ve been disgusted with me or...” You let your words trail off.

Nevada gently sat you in the bed, pulling the blankets over you. He leaned over you, putting both arms on either side of your body to look you in the face.

“I grew up in a house full of woman. You think I don’t know how this stuff works?” You didn’t respond, you just snuggled deeper into the blankets, “And you are far from disgusting, Hermosa. Now the things you do with me in this bed? You’re fuckin filthy.”

This made you giggle, but the jolt of movement to your torso made you whimper. Nevada pressed a gentle kiss to your temple and sat up, walking across the room for a shirt. He threw a random maroon t-shirt on and tossed you his phone.

“Type in all the stuff you need, or want, or whatever. I’ll have Miguel drive me around to find what you gotta have.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You spoke up, grabbing the phone in your hand.

“The fuck I don’t.” He laughed sarcastically. “I’m not just going to stand by and listen to you moan and groan over something you can’t control without doing something about it.”

You smiled weakly, unlocking his phone and typing out what you need into his notes app. Just the usual toiletries and a few comfort snacks. When you were finished, Nevada took the phone back from you and shoved it in his pocket. He was already fully dressed with his signature brown, leather jacket. You crawled over to the other side of the bed to be closer to his and sat up on your knees.

“You’re the sweetest, Nevada.”

Nevada’s typical smirk looked like more of a smile now as he walked over to you, threading his hands in the back of your hair and placing a deep kiss on your lips. You returned the action, smiling into the kiss. No tongue or anything. Nevada pulled back and looked you in the eyes.

“And you’re the only one who’s allowed to know.”

You snickered at him. The Heights may see this man who could kill you with a glance, but the Nevada you see can be pretty selfless and soft. Before he left the house, he tucked you back into bed- even giving you his pillow to put below your back. He made sure you had a bottle of pain killers at the bed side and left, promising he would be back as soon as possible.

You took a couple of pain killers for your cramps and laid back down, a soft smile on your face as you tried to drift off.

[vadaschiquita]

Chiquita | Ch.15

Chapter 14

“This can all end, Jimmy, if you just… tell me where she is,” Nevada said in a singsong voice, levering Jimmy Mucci’s head by tugging at his hair.  When no response came, Nevada gut-checked him forcefully, feeling his knuckles ache behind the blow.

It’d been like this for a fortnight.  Nevada being reckless, coming close to burning bridges that had taken years to build in a angered frenzy in an attempt to find out Mariana’s location.  Pucho could barely keep up with the requests for meetings, and word around the city had spread quickly as soon as Nevada had crossed the Queensboro bridge into Long Island City where the Asian mafia had met his wrath.

Reckless things like that could cost Nevada a lot in the long run, and unfortunately, Pucho had not been able to save him from this one.  He’d moved in on them without properly vetting the situation, and now, he had a target from them in a borough that had nothing to do with him and his product.  He had no business in crossing over to Queens, and Pucho had been more than clear when attempting to steer Nevada from that side of the bridge.

Pucho’s words had been for deaf ears, because until Nevada had Mariana in his hands again, the recklessness would continue.

Nevada feared no one, and his temperament and mental well-being were hanging on by a thread.  He had all the guys working overtime and had the girls coming in with false allegations with the promise of a big reward.

“No one,” Mucci heaved, attempting to lock his remaining good and open eye on Nevada’s face.  “No one here knows where she is,” he swallowed, smirking, and Miguel, who’d been standing by knew that his fate was about to get much worst by whatever he was about to say.  “And, even if we did… she looks like a good lay,” he chuckled, the sound quickly converting to a pained cry once Nevada connected his fist with the bloodied flesh that was Jimmy’s face.

Blow after blow; grunt after grunt was all that reverberated back from the walls of the warehouse.  No one said anything.  No one dared interrupt until they knew it was time.

Nevada stepped back, winded, and slightly dizzy.  The distinct copper-like smell from the blood on the backs of his hands was clouding his nose.  He’d beaten Jimmy Mucci to a pulp, and now he’d toss him somewhere where the Greeks and the Irish could see him, and the Russians up in the Bronx could hear about it, too.

He’d already weeded out the Irish.  They hated the Italians, and if they’d done this just to get Nevada to step into their little pissing competition, their fate would be far worst than the one Jimmy Mucci had just met.

Nevada flexed his fingers, wincing slightly once he felt the bones in his hands rearranging.  “Drop him off where everyone can see.  Let this be a fucking warning.  I want my Chiquita, and I want her now,” he growled, his eyes an unnerving color.

Miguel nodded, signaling the other men to do as Nevada had bidden, and quietly he followed him out.

If anyone knew what Nevada was going through, was Miguel.  He’d been his driver and immediate hand for as long as he could remember.  And, even though he hadn’t voiced it as of yet, Miguel did feel somewhat responsible for Mariana’s current fate.  If he hadn’t been pre-occupied with something else, he would’ve been the one picking Mariana up, instead of sending Dylan to run an errand that placed him nearest to her.  If Miguel had known that she was coming home, he’d had volunteered to pick her up instead.

Nevada had slammed the door shut, quickly examining his knuckles and twisting his face in slight disgust.  He hadn’t seen his hands bruised like they were since before Mariana and him had begun dating.  He never succumbed to the violence unless completely and utterly necessary.  He had guys willing to dirty their hands in lieu of a steady paycheck.  Nevada got his problems solved and they stayed out of jail by doing what they needed to do in order to get the message across.

Two times, already, Nevada had dirtied his hands for the woman he loved, and he’d do so again without hesitation if it meant her safety and that of their unborn child.

Mariana winced, feeling the baby press at her ribs.  It was always during this time of the evening where the baby was the rowdiest, but as soon as she shifted, there he was, inching closer to her body in order to bring his hand to her belly to ease the pain across her ribs.  It was like he knew or he was synched with the life growing inside of her.  He’d whisper softly to the baby, talk them down and out of her ribs until she could breathe easily again.

She’d resorted to sleeping in a slant so that when the baby would ease itself towards her ribs, she could easily slide into a sitting position.  Nevada had surprised her with a change of headboard, one that was comfortable against her back.  It gave the room a feminine touch and it let anyone know that her presence in his life was more permanent than not.

Now, all she had for support were two flat pillows.  She sighed, feeling the prickling sensation forming across her nose.  A telling sign that her resolve was not as strong as she’d thought.  She cleared her throat, swinging her feet off the mattress and onto the cold floor of the storage room she’d been kept now for thirteen days.  She placed her elbows on her knees, leaning forward as much as her belly allowed her to go, attempting to coax the growing life inside of her down.

“Mi amor,” she whispered quietly.  “Mi amor, por favor,” she said, running her fingers through her scalp.  “I know you miss your dad, but baby please, let me rest.”

She could feel the pressure increase on her ribs and she heaved her sigh, coming to a careful stand.  Her captors had bargained with her, if she didn’t attempt to run or scream or attack them in any type of way, the chain around her ankle would come off.  It’d only taken a couple of days before she’d begged them to take it off as the pins and needles sensation of her foot was growing to be painful and annoying at the lack of circulation of her swollen feet and ankles.

She placed her hands to her belly, massaging the hardened area just like Nevada did.

“Papi will find us,” she said softly.  “Papi won’t rest until we’re back where we belong.”

She hummed and smiled at the fluttering coming from within.  Whatever activity her child was doing inside of her, had brought more than comfort to her.

The first couple of days locked in darkness had been beyond stressful.  Everything she consumed was brought back up within minutes of consumption and her once over active child had turned silent.  She’d cried and prayed, begged the baby and the heavens above for a sign of movement to no avail.  And, now, though she highly disliked the discomfort, she would choose it instead of the agony of not feeling them move within her.

Lost in her back and forth pacing, she didn’t notice the door open, let alone the body that had entered the space.  When she turned around, she tensed.

“Ricky,” her voice wavered.

He smirked.  “Si llego a saber que el culo te iba a crecer, I would’ve gotten you pregnant sooner,” he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back.

“And, you think I would’ve honestly kept a pregnancy being with you?” she retorted back, softly, but filled with contempt.  “There wasn’t a day where you didn’t beat me… belittle me to such a point—”

“Ay, you deserved every single one of your beatings, Mariana.  You and that fucking mouth of yours!”

She flinched at the sudden influx of his voice.  “If I recall, you loved fucking my mouth, and you never complained when you did,” she responded with a snarl.

Ricky chuckled, taking a step towards the three-legged table.  In his hands a bag of supplies that he emptied atop the surface of the table.  “Here,” he said, sorting the items scattered on the table.  “I got you some underwear and vitamins.  I asked the lady at the pharmacy, she said these are the ones you need.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“This,” Mariana gestured with her hands around her.  “Why do you have me here?  What do you plan on doing, Ricky?”

Ricardo sighed.  “Your fucking thug lets you give him this much lip?  ‘Cause from what I’ve heard, motherfucker is crazy.  You’d think he’d fuck you quiet, or at least into submission,” he turned, searching for the bucket.

“You’ve no right to talk about Nevada that way,” she said between clenched teeth.  “He’s ten times the man you could ever think of being.”

Ricky snickered, “Mariana, don’t test me.”

“Or, what?  You’re gonna beat me up?  Kill me?  I’ll fucking take my chances!  You’re nothing but a coward, Ricky!”

Mariana knew her words had been too much.  She’d known as soon as he’d turned around and reached her in a couple of steps.  He grabbed her hair in his hand, yanking her head back with force, and dug his fist into her belly.  She felt the flutters of movement coming from her child and the whimper of fear won over the wince of pain.

“No,” she mewled, clawing at his forearm to stop.  “Ricky, stop!”

In his eyes she could see his enjoyment when it came to inflicting pain on another being.  Many a time she’d looked into his piercing stare wondering where it had all gone wrong, who had hurt him, and if that would be her future forever.  This was a power move.  He thrived on being on top, and when anyone threatened his made believe throne, he was like a fierce hyena protecting the trash he called his home.

He dug his fist deeper into the center of her belly and Mariana spat at his face, gaining in return his hand around her neck.  She gasped, not foreseeing the hand he’d played.

“Do it,” she said between breaths.  “Fucking do it,” she smiled, feeling the pressure of his hand against her windpipe.  Ricky furrowed his brow, confused at her willingness, and he eased on the pressure behind his grip.  “Coward,” she rasped.

“Bitch!” he shouted, tossing her onto the bed.  Mariana’s hands came to wrap protectively around her midsection as she watched him pace the length of the small room, yanking at his hair.  “After everything I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get!  You—You… why are you this way?” his voice was a plea of sorts and Mariana fought to catch her breath.  “Why don’t you love me!”

Mariana looked at the broken boy at the foot of the bed, red at the face with bulging eyes and veins.  She felt… sorry for him, but he still didn’t have her sympathy.  Ricky wasn’t right in his head, and it would take more than a breakdown for her to forgive him.

“You—You’re wrong in the head, Ricky,” Mariana coughed, feeling her throat scratch with pain.  “You need—need to let me go and—”

“No!” he shouted, launching himself forward, and landing a punch to Mariana’s pretty face.

She immediately felt her bowels churn and her brain rattle in her skull.  It’d been a long time since he’d touched her like that, and growing used to someone not beating you rather quickly, she saw stars clouding her vision when another blow landed across her jaw.  Her body fell back against the mattress, her hair covered her eyes, as she felt the darkness rapidly enveloping her.

“You’ll always be mine,” she heard faintly before she finally slipped into the safe confines of blackness.

Nevada sat on his couch, a frown on his face, an ache in his heart, and a diminishing handle of whiskey in his hands.  Eighteen days without her, the greatest pain in his ass, the object of his every day distraction… the mother of his unborn child: the love of his life.  Eighteen miserable days and eighteen agonizing nights where everything felt blurred.  Blurred because he didn’t know when one thing started and another thing ended.

Had he eaten?  Had he kept up with his hygiene?  Was his business thriving?  He couldn’t know.

For eighteen days he’d known that had it not been for his big ass mouth, she could’ve been here.  If he’d just… shut up and listened to what she was saying, if he’d just seen the situation from her point of view instead of always trying to have the last word, this entire mess could’ve been avoided.

He sniffled loudly, distracting his brain from his eyes, bringing the handle to his mouth for a prolonged sip.  He didn’t even wince at the sharp sting the whiskey had on his throat, he didn’t deserve the luxury of feelings knowing that his Chiquita was out there, fighting for her life, fighting to stay alive for their kid, just to have the opportunity to be able to return home almost unscathed.

“Tío,” he heard Sofía’s soft voice approaching the couch.

He’d dismissed his men for the continued search of her.  Whatever it took, he’d have her back.

He scrambled around, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of his niece.  He checked his wristwatch, noticing the time, “Sofi—Sofi, it’s late, mama.  Go back to bed.”

Sofía climbed the couch, crawling towards her uncle, and once she reached his side, she knelt next to him.  “Are you sad because of Mari?”

Nevada hung his head, hiding the shame of his tears from his niece.  He sniffled once more, exchanging the handle from his right hand to his left, bringing his face to his inner elbow to wipe away his face, and wrapping his arm around Sofía’s small frame.  How was he to explain what was happening to his soon-to-be seven year old niece.

His chin trembled as he faced the confused stare of the young girl in front of him.  “Princesa,” she blinked, tilting her head in curiosity, and he cleared his throat.  “I am sad because of Mari, but,” he added quickly, “I’m so happy that you’re here with me.”

“Well, Mami said I had to take care of you!” she said in a fit of laughter, dodging Nevada’s fingers against her side.

“She did?” Sofía nodded, brushing her hair out of her face.  “What else did she say?”

Sofía’s smile faded and she lowered her head, “You said those are bad words…”

Nevada hummed.  “Bueno, si las dices bajito, they’re not as bad,” he winked at the girl, attempting to coax out of her whatever words his sister had used in her presence.

“Mami said that this could’ve all been avoided had she not been a puta.”

Nevada chuckled softly, “Well, I can’t argue with your Mami on that one.”

Sofía looked… perplexed, not really understanding what her uncle had meant by his statement.  Nevada shook his head and she took the opportunity to settle against his side, curling her legs close to his ribs.

Nevada brought the handle to his lips once again, looking out to the city, and letting his self feel the love that radiated out of the little body that was Sofía Isabella Ramirez.

As the handle depleted so did his eyelids and when he next woke, Sofía lain fully across his lap, bundled underneath his jaw as her gams wrapped around his back.  He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch’s edge, fighting the spinning room.

He brought his wrist towards his face, squinting to better focus the hands of the watch face.  They’d been there all evening and now he could see the sun attempting to creep through the bundle of clouds in the horizon.  Nevada dropped a kiss to his niece’s messy head of hair, toeing off his shoes to lay the length of his couch when his thigh vibrated.  He groaned, maneuvering around Sofía’s body.  He slid out his phone, once more squinting at the blurry, jumpy letters across his screen.

The message would’ve been ignored had he recognized the number, or at least been part of an area code that belonged to any of the five boroughs that comprised the New York City area, but it didn’t.  Nevada prided himself a great businessman and as any businessman, it was his job to know and study the market he was in.  Any true and native Newyorker could tell you 212-, 718-, and 917- were the true New York City area codes, but the one displayed on his screen was 551-.  Whoever this was, either had the wrong number, or was looking to start some trouble.  

He had reason to ignore the message—he had more than one reason to ignore the message, the primary being: there was no business to attend to at this time of day knowing he’d set fire to too many bridges over the course of the last eighteen days.  He’d been watching those slowly burn from afar and as he sat and watch the fires grow, he’d given thought to the ones he did want to salvage, but not right now and certainly not at this time.

As he contemplated whether or not to open the message from the unknown number, another one came in.  He furrowed his brow, resting his cheek against Sofía’s head.  He couldn’t read what the messages said; he had to unlock his phone before being able to do that, but two messages almost back to back from the same unknown number.  Who else could it be?

He hesitated, pressing his thumb against the screen to unlock his phone.

Text Message: [551-908-5344] 06:21 a.m.

           I have something you want…

Text Message: [551-908-5344] 06:23 a.m.

           Wanna see?

His stomach clenched and his reaction almost made him drop Sofía onto the couch like a lifeless object he had no care for.  Instead, he stood, gathering every raging force to carry Sofía to his bed.  The girl would find more comfort knowing that at some point, her uncle had moved her to his room as opposed to hers, and even if a lie, she’d still think she’d had the opportunity of sleeping in his bed.  As he exited his room, shutting the door behind him, he pressed the phone number, bringing his phone up to his ear.

It rung several times and when his patience was beginning to thin, he heard the cynical voice on the other side of the receiver, “Huh, I thought you weren’t intrigued enough…”

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?”

The person on the other side snickered, “I already have what I want, Nevada.  I was just letting you know that she is mine.”

Nevada clenched his jaw, feeling his lips go numb with anger.  “Yours?” he snickered.  “Tú lo que eres es un palomo.”

“Un palomo que tiene lo que quiere,” he retorted.  “You should hear how she begs me—”

“Rick—Ricky, please,” Nevada heard Mariana’s faint, exhausted voice.  “Plea—Please,” she sounded winded, tired, and her voice sounded like it needed a touch of water.

Ricky hummed as he chuckled.  “What the fuck are you doing to her?” Nevada growled.

Ricky huffed, “Nothing, nothing, just… tuning her up.  Since, since, you know, you’ve let all my good work go to waste!”

“Mira, pedazo de cabrón, you put your hands—” the sudden, yet audible smack that rang loud in his ear almost made him lose his balance.

Mariana grunted, groaning softly.  Ricky sniffled, “I’m the one that has the upper hand here, Nevada.  All right?”

Nevada clenched his jaw, attempting to reel his anger in order to try and get more information out of him.  Ricky had already slipped up and allowed for pride to get the best of him when he messaged Nevada without blocking his number.  Now, even though cocky, Nevada wouldn’t allow his self to believe that Ricky hadn’t taken some precautions when getting a cellphone, burners did sell out of every bodega he knew.

Now, he just needed to exercise his infamous gift of gab and keep him on the line long enough for him to figure out where exactly was he keeping his precious Chiquita.

“Look at you being a fast learner,” he mocked.

“What is it that you want?” Nevada said through clenched teeth.  “Money?  Name your fucking price, but you can’t have her.”

He heard Mariana hiss, as if Ricky had yanked her by her hair, “Here!”

“Vada—Vada.”

“Chiquita,” he responded quickly.  “Mami, are you ok?  Are—Are you eating?”

“Vada—Vada,” she swallowed, and it was almost as if he could her smile.  “Yes, and keeping myself hydrated, too.”

“Mari—”

“Hush!” she swallowed once again.  “I’m counting on you to—”

“You’re counting on him to what, Mari?  To come rescue you?  No!  We are leaving here together!” Ricky yelled and Nevada could hear a faint echo as he yelled.  “I didn’t call to make this a fucking family reunion.”

“Why exactly did you call, huh?” Nevada’s patience had been running on low and listening to Ricky slap around the mother of his child had completely ran that probe out.  “If you didn’t call to ask for money, what did you call for?  Because, to flaunt her off, that’s not very… manly of you, Ricky.”

Nevada could hear the ragged breathing coming through the ear piece and he hoped he hadn’t pushed Ricky too far to the point he’d do something stupid like put his hands on Mariana once again.

“I mean, ¿tú no eres el más machito?”

“I called—I called, because I wanted you to know that I won—”

“Did you really win, Ricky?  You’re the one that’s going to end up raising my kid, not the other way around,” he smirked.  “Yo te debería dar las gracias—”

“No!  No!  I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

Nevada huffed his laughter, “Is it not?”

Ricky pondered his next move.  When he’d heard that Nevada was not to be messed with he understood who exactly he was going up against, and truth be told, he’d never would’ve accomplished this had he not found Dylan at that bar talking to the pretty bartender that had happened to mentioned his name.

He hadn’t been stupid enough to show his face near Manhattan any longer, Dylan had told him as much.  The search for Mariana was very much ongoing and active, and now having been off the handle, he’d done something that would now put a complete and active target on his back.  Now, Nevada knew that this hadn’t been done by any of the other powerful families in the city, but by him.  And, if he hadn’t have met Dylan, getting to Mariana would’ve been impossible.

He needed an out, an easy escape to be able to leave the city with Mariana.  If they needed to run for the rest of their lives, then run they shall, because Mariana would never leave his side again.

“I want money and I want your men out of my way,” he demanded, sniffling.

“You want money and for my men to back off,” Nevada repeated.  “So, you want my money, my Chiquita, and for my men to… cover for you?” Nevada laughed heartily.  “You better hope my Chiquita has dealt with you before I find you, because your faith will not be the same with me.”

“Nevada,” Ricky begun, feeling the cold air of fear sticking to his neck, “your own men don’t do as you say, what makes you think I will?”

“What—” Nevada glanced at his phone.

What had Ricky meant that his own men didn’t do as he said?  Had this been an inside job?

“Motherfucker,” he sighed, all signs of sleep and rest out the window by this point.

Nevada had thought out many a scenario, had made up countless possibilities in his head as to whom would dare do this, but none of them had involved someone from under his command.  It made perfect sense!  Who else could have access to her whereabouts, his whereabouts, and all in all the perfect excuse to monitor both him and her than someone on his payroll?

The more he thought about it, the more he felt his anger increase within him.  This could’ve been resolved sooner, had he gotten his head out of his ass for a second and actually put to use the mass between his ears to capacity.

No one really knew she wasn’t spending the night at Nevada’s, only the guys from the inner circle knew.  Only a select few from the select few knew where Nina lived, and if in fact Dylan had gone to pick her up to not find her there, then there was only so many people he knew could be behind this.

He nodded as he paced, piecing together his every move like an avid chess player planning and predicting his opponents move beforehand.  

This would not end well for whoever had dared cross Nevada Ramirez.  This in fact would end up with more blood on his hands and another death in his conscience, but for her, he’d burn Hell just to get her back.

tags: @imjustreallynosy​ @bananas-pajamas​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @katierpblogg​ @angelicdestieldemon​

[especially-heinous-ada]

Well, hello again!

Wow, it has been an absurd few months since I’ve posted last, and lord has my life exploded, re-grouped, and then exploded again repeatedly since then. I seriously wish that I was joking, but I cannot tell you how frequently my life has flipped itself on its head in the past few months. I don’t normally like to talk a lot about my personal life, for privacy sake, but partially because I feel like venting, and partially so you guys can get a taste of why I have not been around, here you go.

It has been incredibly intense.

My relationship of 4+ years ended a couple months ago, after I found out my now-ex had sex with one of his coworkers. I officially ended things for good because (1) I can’t forgive a cheater and (2) I finally realized in our final months together that he was actually extremely emotionally abusive. After our breakup, I turned to a close male friend of mine for comfort. --I’ll call him C. I had actually started to develop feelings for C in the last half year or so of my relationship with my ex, but I stuffed those feelings down because I am a faithful person and would never cheat. 

After my relationship ended, I let my feelings for C develop in their natural course, and not too long after, I confessed to him that I like him. Turns out, there were some feelings there for C too, but he would never make moves on a woman in a relationship. We started dating, and it’s been amazing. I feel so special and cared for, and happy. He’s honestly my dream guy, and with him, I’m experiencing all the wonderful things I never felt in any of my previous relationships. So despite the fact that getting cheated on was awful, I believe that things were meant to happen this way, so that C and I could come together the way we did. After the positive experience of beginning to date C, my life decided to take a dumpster dive.

My parents started fighting non-stop and wanted to keep involving me, but I refused to take sides, and it’s been incredibly stressful (still ongoing). I’m an adult, but the’re my parents, and it’s hard to be stuck in the middle. During all that stress, I found out I owed a bunch of money in back payments for bills I thought were being auto-deducted from my account. Eight MONTHS of back payments, guys. Money was really tight for a couple weeks, but I pulled through that, too, and things settled down for a minute. Just when I thought my financial woes were over, I got fired from my job and had to job hunt. Right around the corner from Christmas, and not until after I booked a very expensive vacation that is completely non-refundable. 

Y’all, the world has basically just been testing me left and right these last few months of 2019 and I am SO. READY. For 2020 to begin. Thankfully, it looks like everything is leveling out again, as I got a job offer and begin the new position very soon. So, in case you were wondering where I disappeared to-- my life has been an absolute shit show. Lmao. Now, I am returning. So if anyone has any recommendations or requests of where I should pick up, or any new series/ one shots/ HCs they’d like me to write, let me know! I’d like to get back into having this creative outlet again. 

[rafivadafreddy]

When You Were Mine.

A Rafael Barba One-Shot

So I’ve been obsessed with Hamilton lately, cause come on. Its amazing. So, I took three songs... Congratulations, First Burn and Burn annnnnd I made THIS! I hope you enjoy this. much love!!

Warning: Spanish, its sad. Our Rafi is a cheater. SMH

Looking at the pictures in her hands, she walked towards his office, wanting to get to the bottom of this whole thing. Hoping that it was all a lie, a silly and idiotic lie that someone came up with. Surely, Rafael wouldn’t cheat on her. Not like this. He wouldn’t do to Adeline what Yelina did to him.

As she neared the office, she froze. Carmen wasn’t at her desk. Walking over to the office door, Adeline stopped when she was about to knock.

“What am I gonna do Liv? Surely Adeline saw the paper already.” She heard the voice of her fiancé. “I told him he had nothing on me! But he did… this guy has been following me around for almost a year!”

Looking down at the newspaper in her hand, Adeline felt her eyes tear up.

“Well… clearly, you have invented a new kind of stupid, Rafael.” Liv spoke up. “A damage you can’t undo, kind of stupid…” Adeline could practically hear the smirk appearing on Olivia’s face. “Truly, you didn’t think this through… kind of stupid! I mean you told the people threatening you and your position here to go ahead and post whatever they had on you? You should have sent it to the post and written it all yourself.”

“Look! I made a mistake! Ok? I know that!”

“Yeah well, we all begged you to take a break, Raf. You refused to.” Liv sighed and stood up.

Adeline quickly turned around and rushed out of the building. Keeping her head down the whole time as she made her way home. It was half an hour later when she arrived at the Brownstone the two had bought together.

Walking to her living room, Adeline shed off her coat and pressed a few buttons, so the fireplace lit up. Going to grab a glass of wine, she brought the bottle with her as she sat on the couch.

Almost two hours later, she heard the door open and Rafael come inside.

“Carino?” his voice called out before stopping short when he saw her in the living room.

“You know, we’ve known each other for so long Rafi… since high school.” Adeline spoke softly, her eyes sad as she watched the fire dance before her in the fireplace. “I saved every single letter you wrote me. From the day I saw you in school and you were helping me find my class… I knew you were mine… You SAID you were mine…” her voice broke and she closed her eyes. Tears slipping down her cheeks. “I thought you were mine.” She whispered.

Standing up and wiping at her cheeks, she turned to face the man she was supposed to marry, “Do you know what Olivia said? After I told her what you’d done?” she asked and took a step forward. “She said, “Ade, you are going to marry a sarcastic, asshole! He is way too obsessed with his job.” Ironic isn’t it?” she scoffed and set the wine glass done. Cursing when some spilled out onto the floor.

Seeing him try to take a step forward, Adeline pointed a finger at him. “DON’T!” she snapped. “Do not take another step in my direction! You understand? I can’t be trusted around you. Just don’t! You think you can talk your way into my arms? You won’t!”

“Adeline, please…” Rafael pleaded, and she just shook her head.

“I’m going to burn everything you wrote me, every picture we have… everything.” She told him and frowned. “You can stand there if you want. I don’t know who you are… clearly I still have so much to learn!”

“That’s not true, mi alma! You know me, you know I love you...”

“I was re-reading your letters… now I’m going to watch them BURN!” with that she tossed a few papers into the fire.

Rafael took a step forward, but he couldn’t find the right words to say.

“You let them publish the letters between the two of you? The pictures of the two of you?!” she turned her head, Rafael taking a step back when he saw the red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “You let the WHOLE WORLD know how you brought this girl into our HOUSE! Our BED! You have RUINED our lives!”

He shook his head. “No… no, I’m the one who’s going to get ruined! They were after me…” he said in a small voice.

“Are you so paranoid? How they perceive you… You, you, you! ONLY YOU?” she was yelling now, her chest felt tight like someone was holding her down. “Do you think this won’t make ME look bad? YOU EMBARRSSED ME RAFAEL! Clearly, I’m not women enough to satisfy her man! So, he has to go out looking for someone else to sleep with!” she practically hissed at him.

Pushing him away when he tried to step closer to Adeline. She felt her breathing quicken. “Honestly… Heaven forbid someone whisper that you aren’t good enough or try and talk you down… your enemies whisper, and you have to SCREAM! Prove them ALL wrong!” she wiped her cheeks with both hands.

“It’s not like that, mi alma… I love you. I’m so sorry.”

Adeline just shook her head again. “I see how you look at Olivia, Rafael.” She whispered, only to cover his mouth when he went to say something. “Don’t. I’m not naïve. I see the women around you at the events we go to. How you put on your charm, they all fall for it! All your charms…” she laughed humorless.

“I’m leaving, erasing myself from your narrative. Let everyone wonder and think and come up with their own conclusions of how I reacted when you went and BROKE my heart!” She frowned, the tears finally stopping. “You have thrown it all away, Raf… and for what? A few nights with some exotic lover? I was supposed to be your legacy, built it together… a family.” Shaking her head, Adeline sighed.

When Rafael grabbed her hands, dropping down to his knees in front of her. Adeline had to try to stay strong. “Mi amor… por favor. Lo siento mucho. Por favor mi alma… perdóname.” He was crying now as he held onto the fabric of her long dress. “Te quiro mucho. No me dejes.”

“Rafael… you forfeit all rights to my heart and the place in our bed...” she said in a soft voice as she watched him, begging and crying into her dress. “You’ll sleep in your home office instead. With only the memories of when you were mine and I was yours…”

After untangling herself from his hands, she quickly moved to the stairs and rushed up them. Locking herself into her bedroom, Adeline fell onto her bed in a mess of tears.

Rafael was down in the living room in the same position. On his knees on the floor. Head bent down as he cried. How could he do this to the women he loved? How could he cheat on Adeline like Yelina had done to him? How could he be so stupid.

How did you like it? I KNOW I HAVEN’T BEEN ON BUT MY OTHER STORIES WILL BE UPDATED SOON. I’ve been having some... mental health problems. But i’m slowly getting in a better place<3

If you think I should do a part two, tell me! Other than that, heart and share this story! Much MUCH love from me to you! xoxo

[eclecticminded]

You’re Insecure, Don’t Know What For

anonymous asked: Prompt: Nevada Ramirez x Reader: Reader feels insecure about her appearance/weight bc she overhears Nevada’s working girls talking negatively about her/how he could do ‘so much better’

anonymous asked: Can you please do a Nevada x Reader fic where the reader is insecure about her body?

I was more than happy to write this one, as someone who struggles with self image. Hope you enjoy.

Nevada’s girls tear you down, he builds you back up.

Warnings: Self hatred. Women being jealous and saying hateful things about looks and weight. Cursing.

Tags: @southsiderepresent @glimmerglittergirl @madpanda75  @southern-magnolia @katmstanton @esparza-army @sweetsummertime99  @obfuscateyummy @lifeisbetterwithbarba  @lyssa1385  @hux-me-up   @bowieisawizard @sleepylunarwolf @mrsrafaelbarba anyone else ask!

Also I have a Kofi (link in blog description) if anyone wants to donate!

One day you had off work, you slept in and after running some errands decided to go see Nevada. He was at one of his warehouses going over paperwork and texted he wanted to see you. It was a short walk from the subway station, but it was hotter than hell outside. By the time you reached the door, you were sweating bullets. The air conditioner in Nevada’s office sounded like heaven, and you made a bee line for it.

 Before you rounded the corner, you heard some of his working girls talking. He wasn’t too terrible to his girls, and they were well protected. None of them were doing it against their will, you made sure of that. You didn’t want to be disrespectful so you tried not to listen. But you heard your own name, all bets were off.

 “She’s so dumpy and fat,” one high pitched voice scoffed.

 “I hear she doesn’t suck his dick,” one spat, “he has to come to us for that.”

 That one made no sense because you’d just given Nevada a blow job the night before. So that was obviously fake, but the other things they said started to hurt.

 “She’s just fucking ugly, he deserves someone better. Someone pretty,” the high pitched voice retorted, “I saw her walking here and she was sweating so bad.”

 “That’s disgusting, he needs one of us,” the second voice smugly declared.

“That girl dresses all frumpy too, what does he see in her,” a third voice chimed in.

 “Must have lost a bet,” a fourth cackled. You’d had enough and ran past them, tears streaming down your face. As you darted past the window into the office, Nevada saw you but you didn’t know. You burst out the back door into an alley and slid down the brick wall. It cut into your skin and it only added to your tears.

 Your mind was reeling. They were right. What did he see in you? They were so much prettier and more outgoing. You only went out to appease Nevada; you’d rather stay at home. You hated the way you looked, always had, and this had to be a cosmic joke. Nevada was a sexy badass motherfucker. What was he doing with you?

 “There you are,” Nevada propped the door down and squatted next to you, “what’re you crying about?”

 “Nothing,” you looked away from him.

 “It’s something if you’re crying loca,” he wiped a tear away.

 “Don’t worry about it,” you let your head drop back and it hit the wall with a sickening thud.

 “Don’t do that,” Nevada snapped and jerked your head forward.

 “What does it matter? You’re just going to leave me for one of them,” the tears resumed.

 “What? One of who? Where is this coming from,” Nevada realized how serious this was when your tears kept falling, and he softened.

 “They’re prettier than me. I’m just some frumpy fat chick you’ll grow bored of,” your lip quivered and Nevada stared wide eyed.

 “Who said that,” he growled, regaining himself.

 “They did,” you blubbered, “but it’s true.”

 “No its no—“

 “They said you lost a bet and that’s why you’re with me,” your head fell back again, but this time Nevada stopped it.

 “Don’t be stupid. I’m with you because I want to be. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he tugged you to your feet and into his arms.

 “Whatever,” you mumbled into his shirt while he rubbed your back.

 “What’re you insecure for,” he nudged you to look at him, “you’re beautiful.”

 “No I’m not,” you shook your head to keep from crying anymore.

 “Listen,” he tightly squeezed your cheeks between his hands, “You are beautiful inside and out. Don’t let no body make you less. Not even me. Got it?”

 “Yes Vada, I love you,” you mumbled with his grip still on your cheeks.

 “Good girl,” he kissed your pursed lips and let you go, “I love you too.”

 “Those girls are real bitches,” you shook your head, “I don’t want to be around them anymore.”

 “Let’s go inside in the AC loca, you have me sweating like a pig,” Nevada kicked the door open and pulled you behind him as he marched to the women still in the hall.

 “Hi Vada,” the high pitched woman batted her eyes.

 “Don’t fucking call me that,” he roared and jerked you to stand next to him pressed tightly into his side, “Only she gets to call me that.”

 “Oh,” all four of their faces dropped.

 “If any of you ever upset her again,” he glared and they shrunk down, “You’re out on the street. ¿Me entiendes? You’re fucking done.”

 “I don’t know what she told you—“

 “Shut the fuck up! Get the hell out of here before I get rid of you now,” Nevada snapped and pointed them to the back door.

 “Fine,” they glared at you as they passed.

 “Stop,” Nevada spun around to face them, taking you with him, “Apologize.”

 “What,” the high pitched one’s mouth fell open.

 “You heard me,” he growled, “apologize or you’re done right now.”

 “I’m sorry,” the third and fourth women, twins you could now see, exclaimed in unison.

 “You still have jobs,” he waved them off, “Next.”

 “Sorry for the things I said, won’t happen again,” the second girl hung her head as she showed herself out.

 “Sorry,” the high pitched one mumbled.

 “I can’t fucking hear you,” Nevada hissed through his teeth.

 “I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

 “Go,” he flippantly dismissed her.

 “Thank you,” you wiped the last tear away and buried your face into his side still embarrassed.

 “Let’s go home,” Nevada led you to the waiting SUV. The ride was quiet while he tapped away on his phone. When you got to the apartment, Nevada let you in and you rushed to the bedroom to hide.

 “Can we just cuddle,” you pleaded while pacing the room.

 “Yes, I moved my schedule around,” Nevada motioned for you to stop moving and stripped down to his boxers.

 “I don’t want sex right now Vada” you hung your head, you’d never turned him down before.

 “Not asking for sex, I want skin to skin contact. Let me undress you,” he raised your arms over your head and lifted you shirt off. “I love every part of you,” he started at your fingertips and kissed up one arm and down the others.

 “That tickles,” you giggled, tears long forgotten.

 “This can go now,” he tugged your sports bra off and kissed your whole chest and back, paying special attention to your stomach. Your sandals and shorts were lost next. Nevada peppered long sloppy kisses to your thighs, down to your calves and back up.

 Nevada spent over forty-five minutes kissing every square inch of your body. There was nothing sexual about it in the slightest. Just a man worshiping at the altar of the woman he loved and adored.  Between kisses he would tell you something he liked about you. By the end you were blushing and at peace. He thought by kissing the parts you hated, maybe you’d see he loved them. See that he loved every part of you. See that those bitches didn’t matter. And you did see.

 “You’re such a softie,” you gripped his cheeks and lifted his stubbled face to your lips.

 “Don’t tell anyone, it’ll ruin my reputation,” Nevada chucked and scooped you into his arms. On the bed in front of the cold AC was where he laid you down. Cuddles you needed, and cuddles you got all afternoon and night long.

[thatesqcrush]

Other REE Characters

David Alvarez (A Murder at the End of the World aka Retreat)

Inaugural Sparks

Not a Bad Idea

Paul Mendelson (Dopesick)

On a Whim*

Teach Me

Nevada Ramirez (Trouble in the Heights)

After Midnight, Pt. 1**

After Midnight, Pt. 2**

Bad Guy**

Birthday Shenanigans**

Case of the Ex**

Christmas in the Heights **

Ivy & the Ink **

Kevin Mulrooney (Law & Order: Criminal Intent)

The Hunter**

Time of the Month **

[blackleatherjacketz]

Bad Bitch

Chapter 6

Sonny Carisi x Reader, Nevada Ramirez x Reader

Read: Chapter 5 (further links within)

You contact Sonny as your relationship takes a sudden turn.

Tags: @hot-cheeto-nevada @dreila03 @miraxo-xo-supernatrual

You stare at the card in your hands as you try not to tremble. You thought you'd lost it in the laundry, or maybe it fell out of your pocket the day he gave it to you, but it was still there. There, stuck behind a Jamba Juice punch card at the back of your wallet was his business card.

'Please call me, any day, any time. I rarely sleep anyways. -Sonny' His personal cell phone was written below.

You smile silently as you remember him burning himself on his cup of coffee that day. He was clumsy, and a little brash, but he was right. You can admit that now. You stare at the card and pull out your phone.

No. If Nevada knows your schedule, you're sure he knows who you're making phone calls to. You clutch the card in your hand and go into the back room to use the land line. You pick up the ear piece and take a deep breath. What if he doesn't answer? What if he didn't mean what he said? What if he can't even help you? You shake your head and dial the number. It rings four or five times before he picks up.

"Carisi..." He answers sleepily. You shouldn't have called him. Maybe this was a huge mistake... "Hello? Who is this?" He clears this throat.

"Detective Carisi? Umm... Sonny? That's what you wrote on the back of the card." You look around the room, making sure you are alone. "It's y/n from the other day. You told me to call you if I changed my mind?"

"Oh, yeah, y/n. Wow, it's really late. It's like one in the morning, do you know that?" You can hear him sitting up and shuffling around in bed.

"I'm sorry, I work nights, this was the only time I could.."

"Is he in the room with you now?" His voice is somber.

"No. I'm at work." You look around the room, trying to keep your voice down.

"That's good, y/n, that's good. Do you need me to come get you? Are you safe to go home and meet me in the morning? Around eight o'clock?" You hear him open and close some drawers.

"I'm okay to meet you tomorrow." You hold his card tighter in your hand.

"Alright, good, y/n, listen to me; you meet me at that address on my card first thing in the morning."

"Yes." You put his card in your pocket.

"Alright, what time do you get off?" You hear him close a door.

"Four in the morning." Your voice is a little shaky.

"Four hours, that's nothing!" He laughs. "We'll be hanging out in no time." He can tell you're scared.

"Yeah." You smile.

"I'm glad you called me, y/n. You're doing the right thing here."

"I hope so."

"I'll see you at eight."

---------------------

The precinct smells of burnt coffee and ink toner. You sit in a chair next to his desk, trying to ignore the deafening sounds of phones and alarms going off at volumes higher than your call lights at work. You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep last night, and these sounds aren't making it any better.

"You sure you don't want a soda or some thin'?" A man who calls himself Fin asks you again.

"No, I'm okay." You smile as he shrugs and looks back at his computer.

"Hey doll, you like zeppole?" Sonny's voice makes your ears perk up. That harsh, boyish Staten Island accent makes you feel safe for some reason. He walks around you and holds out a paper bag. The powdered doughnuts that would normally tempt you stare you blankly in the face.

You're not hungry. Not after yesterday. Not after you had to sneak around your job just to make a secure phone call in the middle of the night. You look up at him and shake your head, pulling your jacket closer to your body.

"Alright, well if you change your mind, they'll be right here." He sets the bag on his desk and hands you a cup of coffee. "This'll keep you warm." He smiles and sits at his desk, scooting forward to get comfortable. He pulls a pen and paper out of a drawer and looks at you. "I know how hard it was for you to call me, y/n. I can't begin to tell you how glad I am that you did." He studies your posture with his icy blue eyes and tilts his head.

"Can I ask what made you change your mind?" He takes a doughnut out of the bag and takes a bite.

"Sorry I'm late," The blonde woman from before walks past you two, sitting at the desk opposite him.

"Everything alright?" Sonny asks her, finishing his doughnut.

"Jesse was just being herself." She rolls her eyes and smiles.

"Rollins, you remember y/n?" He nods in your direction.

"Oh yeah, from the hospital." She sits down in her chair and looks at you.

"'This is my partner, Detective Rollins."

"Hi." You mutter, forcing a smile.

"You were going to tell me why you called me last night." He brushes the sugar off of his hands and onto his pants.

You look at your feet. You can feel both sets of eyes on you as you try to think of the right words for what happened to you the other day. "I umm..." You swallow hard. "You were right." You chuckle under your breath as you look up at him and take a sip of your coffee. "Nevada... he uh, he bought me an apartment without my permission. He bought me clothes that I don't normally wear. He takes me places I don't want to go, and I don't know how I got here, I don't normally let men do this to me, I have a career, I have my own money, I was ... I..."

"Hey, it's okay." He leans forward. "What else?"

You think back to your last night with Nevada and shiver. "We were having sex the other night in 'my new apartment'. He usually likes it rough, but this time..."

"This time was different?" Rollins places her hand on yours.

You let out a long sigh and nod. "I remember him on top, grabbing my throat while he was still inside of me. He had this crazy look in his eyes, he just kept gripping tighter. I tried to grab his fingers, to get him to stop, but he was too strong. He grabbed both of my hands with just one of his, and kept squeezing. He kept rocking into me like he was getting off on me not being able to move or breathe. I passed out after a while, and I woke up the next morning; showered, dressed, my hair and make-up done." You close your eyes and remember that sick feeling in your stomach. "I didn't know what happened until I realized that my underwear was on inside-out."

Rollins and Sonny share a concerned look. Rollins squeezes your hand and smiles at you. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, y/n."

You squeeze back and let go of her hand, letting it fall to your lap.

"Y/n, I know this is going to be hard, but I'm going to show you some photographs." Sonny interrupts. He takes some pictures out of a yellow envelope and places them on the desk in front of you. "What you just described matches the M.O. of all of the victims we are trying to link him to." He shows you a picture of a girl laying on a slab with bruises around her neck and chest. Bruises that match the ones you are trying to cover up with your sweater.

She looks like you; same build, skin, and hair color. It seems Nevada has a type.

"We have footage of him visiting you at work a few times in the last few weeks. Now, we talked to the security officers, and they found a few glitches in the video. It shorts out for about twenty minutes each time. Do you know anything about that?" Sonny looks at Rollins and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Oh God," you think out loud. "He came to visit me, and I told him that we couldn't because of the cameras..." You look at Sonny who doesn't appear surprised in the slightest. "He said he's erased footage before, that is was no big deal..."

"Do you think meeting you was a mistake, y/n? Do you think he targeted someone with access to thousands of dollars of narcotic drugs as an accident? Do you know what the rest of his men were doing while he was taking your clothes off? While you were getting your rocks off, those cameras were down, and he was bleeding your hospital of a third of its stock. All of which is on the street right now, making him money and paying for those clothes that you don't want."

"Carisi!" Rollins scolds.

"Look..." He swallows hard and frowns. "I don't want you to end up as a photograph on my desk, y/n."

"I don't either." You hold back tears. There are at least seven other photographs under the one he just showed you. Seven other girls that look just like you. Seven other girls who died because of Nevada's smooth talking.

"Then work with us. I already started the paperwork to have an undercover live a few doors down from you. You won't know him until you need to. Ramirez will be none the wiser."

"How do you know that?! How do you know he isn't waiting outside for me right now?"

"We don't. But what I DO know, is that I can have Fin make it look like we're investigating you for the missing drugs, you know, push you around a little bit, whatever you want." his lips curl into a satisfied smirk.

"Yeah, that'd be good." You nod.

"I'm going to need you to act like nothing is wrong at home... can you do that for me, y/n?"

"Yeah." You weigh your options. "Yeah, I can do that."

[vreenak]

Writer Appreciation Wednesday

Each Wednesday I’m going to pick a fanfic writer and rec some of my favorite stories by them. Go and show them some love!!!

Today’s writer is chiltonspanties!

Must reads:

Noche Oscura (Nevada Ramirez x Jonas Nightingale) * The Lucky Ones (Frederick Chilton x Jonas Nightingale) ** Tuesdays (Frederick Chilton x Will Graham)

* my favorite fanfic of all time / ** one of my favorite fanfics of all time

Does anyone know this writer? Are they still in the fandom? I just want to shower them with love and praise.

[inactive-shroomiehomie]

K!nktober Bingo Pt. 1

Square: Vibrator Warnings: NSFW (obviously) Pairing: Nevada Ramirez x Reader Word Count: 1257

A/N: Hey hey! This is my first ever smut! I hope it’s to everyone’s liking. Also, apologies for being so late, tumblr decided it was going to delete the first one of these from my drafts so I had to rewrite the WHOLE THING. Anyway, feedback is always appreciated and happy reading!

It irritated you. Nevada hadn’t touched you in over a week now. He’s either away on business or busy getting drunk at his club. At first you suspected that he had been getting his sexual fill from someone else, but Miguel reassured you he hadn’t been. The man is at his side constantly, so who better to ask than Miguel? Plus, if you asked Nevada directly, that would be an instant fight. So, you devised a plan.

Nevada told you he was going to be early today after a lunch meeting. Which left you with plenty of time to pick up one of his favorite bottles of whiskey,go pick out a new lingerie set and make a stop by your local adults-only store. Walking in there was enough to make you blush. You kept your head down as you browsed through, trying to find the perfect thing for tonight. 

When you reached the vibrators, something caught your eye. In a tightly sealed package, there was a bright orange egg with a long wire at the end. And attached to the other end of the wire- a remote. You pulled the package off the shelf and brought it up to the counter. You payed for it without even glancing at the cashier and made your way back home. 

Nevada better pay attention to you tonight.

-

While looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you adjusted the way your brassier sat on your chest and fluffed out the fringe on the sides of your panties. The white lace leaving nothing to the imagination. You didn’t bother with too much makeup, just some mascara to highlight your eyes and a light brown lipstick. 

As you adjusted your hair, you heard the door open and slam shut.

“Mami, I’m here.”

You cursed under your breathe, not expecting him to be back so early. You double checked everything one last time and exited the bathroom.

When you entered the living room, you found Nevada looking at the bottle of whiskey you bought him. He obviously hadn’t saw you yet, because he started pouring himself a glass. 

“Hey ‘Vada.”

“Hey, where were y-”

The look on his face when he turned around went from relaxed to almost feral. You slowly strolled over to him, every small step you took you made sure to drag out. Nevada eyed your chest, watching the way it moved every time you did. When you reached him, you pushed your hands from his stomach and up to his chest. His hands went right to your hips, still trying to take you all in.

“Oi, carino, what’s the occasion?” He breathed out, leaning his face closer to yours.

“No special occasion.” You breathed back, leaning into him as well but moving your face to his neck. You kissed his pulse point, making him moan low in his chest. “I’ve just really missed you lately. And now that you’re finally here...”

You lifted your head up from his neck and Nevada groans in annoyance. His large hand went straight to your ass and squeezed hard. You bit your lip to suppress a moan, looking him dead in the eye as you did.

“I’m gonna show you what else I bought for us today.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, as if begging for you to tell him more right then and there.

You took his hand off of your ass and dragged him into your shared bedroom. On the way he started to shrug off his clothes, obviously making sure to throw his signature jacket over a chair before working on his belt. You let go of his hand when you hit the bed and turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, ‘Vada. If you wanna see the surprise.” You cooed.

He rolled his eyes but closed them anyway. You took out the bag from the store and started to unwrap the vibrator. You popped the battery in that came with it and stuck it into Nevada’s hand. As soon as you did, he opened his eyes. Once he realized what it was, he licked his lips.

“Thought you would like that.” You laid back on the bed and spread your legs apart, rubbing your fingers over your clothed core. “You got full power over me, Papi.”

“When do I not?” He growled, peeling off his shirt and crawling to you on the bed. 

Nevada leaned down, biting the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your knees. The whole way down, his gaze never left yours. You made an audible whimper, rubbing yourself even more.

“You just can’t wait, huh? My baby’s so impatient.” He made sure to leave a trail of kisses and bites up your body as he inched back up. “You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Well that’s what happens when you ignore me for so long..” You moaned out, hand flying to grip at his hair.

Nevada caught your hand and glared at you. You looked up at him and bit your lip. Striked a nerve, didn’t you?

“Ignore you?” He laughed softly in disbelief, “Oh, carino, qué equivocado estás.” 

Nevada pressed your arm into the mattress and pressed his fingers into you. With how wet you were, he slipped right in and boy did he hit the right spot. Your back arched and your jaw dropped in a silent scream. He started at a slow but pressured pace, almost rocking into you. And with every thrust of his fingers he continuously grazed the spot that could have you over the edge and he knew it.

“’Vadaaaaa..” You cried, your free hand gripping the sheets so hard you thought they tore.

“Go ahead, baby, scream my name.”

After a couple more thrusts he removed his fingers, making you whine at his absence. 

“Don’t you worry, I’m not ignoring you. Nevada taunted, bringing your words back up from earlier before sticking the vibrator into you. You hummed lowly at the way it filled you. It felt amazing, but it was nothing compared to Nevada himself.

Without even giving warning he flicked the switch on the remote and the egg started to vibrate inside of you. You didn’t even realize how deep it was until it powered on. You started to squirm in pleasure, making Nevada move his hand to your hips to hold you in place. You cooed and moaned, arms flailing in the sheets for something solid to grab on.

“You look so beautiful like this, you know that?” Nevada crawled on top of you, his face hanging over your chest.

He slid your bra straps down your shoulders and latched himself onto one of your nipples. The overload of pleasure made you squeak in surprise, especially when he bit down. It wasn’t enough to cause serious pain, but the mixture of sensations was enough to bring you to the edge.

“Nevadaaa... I’m so close...” You whimpered, your mascara building up under your bottom lid.

“Go ahead, let it go, Mami.”

You shoved your hands into his hair and gripped him against your chest. As your nails dug into his head the knot in your stomach unraveled and you came hard, shuddering against Nevada.

As you came down from your orgasm, Nevada removed himself from your grasp and turned the vibrator off. He sat back on his haunches and watched you; Panting and whimpering. He reached into his underwear and gripped himself, a the sides of his lips tweaking up a bit.

“Now it’s my turn to show you what I got for you.”

- - - - - Tags: @thatesqcrush​

[vadaschiquita]

Chiquita | Ch. 18

Chapter 17

It had been an agonizing game of musical chairs riddled with anxiety and unanswered questions sitting in the ER of a New Jersey hospital.  From nurses, to doctors, to social workers had accosted Nevada with questions of her whereabouts and even threatened with police involvement when he’d refused to provide the answers they sought out of him.

Nina and Jess had sat with him, receiving the news of Mariana’s reappearance from Pucho.  The both had shown up hastily, shouting his and her name to every medical personnel they managed to pass by from the second they’d entered the emergency room to the second they’d found him with his head in his hands.  Jess had asked all the hard questions firsthand, attempting to keep her voice even as she got out of Nevada what truly had happened in the confines of the storage container in order to deflect any trouble without the need of lawyer.

“You gonna stop with the fucking leg bounce, Valentina?” he scolded his sister.

Nina sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she came to a stand.  “What the hell are they doing to her, Vada?  She’s been in there for fucking ever!” she paced in front of the row of chairs.

Nevada trailed her with his eyes, leaning back, and stretching his leg in front of him.  “Nina, you irritating my soul isn’t helping.  Stop with the fucking questions… and the pacing!” he waved his hand towards her direction when he caught sights of a doctor approaching their general direction.

Nevada stood, pulling Nina behind him as the doctor smiled, “Mariana?  Mariana Santos?”

“Yes, yes! How is she?  How’s the baby?  Can I see her?” Nevada shot in rapid fire, unable to stop when the doctor raised his hands in order to put a stop to his rambling.

“Easy, Mr. Santos,” the doctor appeased, checking the tablet in his hands.  “There’s good news and there’s bad news.  Now, I understand that she was in labor when brought in,” Nevada nodded, running his hands against his jaw at the mention of bad news.  “Giving birth is a marathon and we need mom awake and alert in order for her to push.  We considered taking her to the operating room and perform an emergency C-section, but baby was coming, and coming fast so we had to rely on medication to strengthen the contractions.  That allows the contractions to be strong enough so that the patient doesn’t have to do anything.”

“O—Ok,” Nevada stumbled, looking over his shoulder to his sister for some type of assistance.

“Is the baby safe?  Is she safe?” Nina asked, watching the helpless green in her brother’s eyes grow by the second.

“Yes, both Mariana and the baby are in good health,” the doctor smiled.

“But?” Nevada took a step forward.

“The oxytocin given to strengthen the contractions has left Mariana with an accelerated heart rate and some arrhythmias that are being monitored as we speak.  Your son has a little bit of jaundice—nothing that we're worried about—and she’s protecting her airway as she should, but due to her arrhythmias and the stress her body endured for the amount of time she was in captivity, we’ve placed her in a medical induced coma and we’ll wean off sedation once we know her heart has recuperated.  Other than that, we’ve stitched the gash at the back of her head, and we’re letting her body heal her other contusions and abrasions the natural way.”

“So—Son?” Nevada sighed, feeling his chest inflate at the thought of someone continuing his namesake to the world.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the doctor looked between Jess, Nina, and the appalled man in front of him.  “I—I thought you knew the gender of the baby before—”

“No, no; we wanted to find out whenever they were born,” he chuckled, feeling his elation travel through his body.  “Can—Can I see her?  Please, doctor, I need to see my Chiquita—and my papito.  Where—Where is he?”

The doctor smiled, cocking his head in the direction he’d emerged from, “Your son is currently in the NICU under bili-lights for his jaundice, but I can arrange for him to be brought to Mariana’s room so that the three of you can be together.”

Nevada nodded, falling into step with the doctor as they approached the ICU room where they’d placed Mariana.

Mariana’s doctor had done well by his training, keeping idle conversation as they accessed the main hospital through the emergency department, but Nevada had only heard some of it and answered to ten percent of what he’d heard.  His mind was still crowded with the sounds of her cries as Ricky choked the near life out of her, the muddled sound her skull made against the concrete floor of the storage unit, and the whisper of his name from her lips when she’d finally noticed that he was real and there to not bring harm upon her.

If he needed to go home and return later on to Mariana’s room, he wouldn’t know the way to her.  

He couldn’t stop thinking of the thousands of ways he’d failed her during her pregnancy, during her captivity, and how much he was failing her now.  He knew nothing of being a father to a child, a child he did not want to raise without her.  

The needs of a newborn were different to the ones of a toddler and child.  

What little experience he had with children came from his ability of having cared for Sofía from a young age.  He never kept her when she needed her mother at every turn, but once Sofía had been able to walk, to talk her way into basic needs, had been when he’d trusted himself to do more than just a prolonged visit to his sister’s place.

The severity of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders, not only did he needed to care for a slightly vegetative Mariana, but now he had to care for a newborn that wouldn’t know his mother until the sedation could be weaned off.

“You’re free to go in and visit for as long as you please, Mr. Santos.  I’ll make sure to speak with NICU nurses to bring by your son sooner rather than later.”

Nevada looked up at the doctor and extended his hand to him, shaking it for good measure.  He’d never been one to engage in such… pleasantries, but there was no other way he could express the gratitude he had for him and his team in the roles played in Mariana’s safety and in the delivery of their son.

He entered the room slowly, hearing the soft air release the breathing machine produced indicative of Mariana’s in and outtake of air.  

He coughed his sob, watching the bruising across her face, vivid against her ashen skin.  Her hair and face had been cleaned of the blood, her wet clothes had most likely been tossed, and her stomach was as flat as he could remember before her pregnancy had taken over.  Her wrists were securely tied to the bed and all the lines feeding her medication, food, and monitoring her heart rate were coming out of her body at her arms, chest, nose, and neck.

Nevada stood at the foot of the bed, taking in the feeble form of his Chiquita.

“Ay, Chiquita,” he mused, approaching the bedside.  He took her hand in his, placing his lips to it multiple times, “You can't give up on me just yet, mami.  Tenemos un varoncito, Mari…”

He pressed his forehead to her knuckles, feeling the tears escape his eyes when he sniffled, raising his eyes to her face.  His knees were already protesting, but in comparison to what he knew she’d endured, slight discomfort showing his age and lack of continuous exercise were the least of his concerns.

It felt like hours of him staring at the beauty of her face even through the stains of Ricky’s work when soft cooing and an apologetic remark caught his ears.  

He sniffled, following the noise with his head when he saw the nurse hauling in an acrylic box containing a small bundle of chunky joy.  He stood, placing one more kiss on Mariana’s hand as an added bonus.

The nurse accommodated the acrylic box next to Mariana’s bed away from the IV pumps and other staff’s general way.  She opened the side door, reaching inside for the baby to wrap him in the bili-blanket to maximize the results of the phototherapy.

“He already breastfed before we started her medications and he had his first bowels, so, little man is doing really great,” she turned, smiling at the stirring child in her arms.  “We let them have skin-on-skin contact for about an hour, hence the reason it took us so long to come fetch you.”

He let go of a long breath of air unaware of its presence when the nurse placed his son in his arms.  He hummed, watching the beautiful contours of his son’s face.  He saw resemblances of Mariana’s features staring back at him: from the color of his skin, to the pout of his lips.  Mesmerized by the beauty of his son, he almost missed the tap on his shoulder from the nurse offering him a comfortable chair so that he could sit and continue admiring the beautiful thing he’d helped bring to life.

“Por poco me matas, papito,” he mused, scoffing airily.

He smiled at his newborn son, running his thumb over the smooth flesh of his cheek.  The baby stirred, scrunching his face, and sneezing consecutively.

“Dios te bendiga,” he smiled, leaning forward to press his lips against his forehead.  He murmured his love for him, nuzzling his nose to the baby’s forehead, whispering a prayer over his son.

Nevada had never pegged himself a religious man, but more of a spiritual one.  He respected the teachings of the Church, the ones instilled in him as a young boy by his mother.  He proudly wore the gold cross gifted to him on the day of his thirteen birthday and whenever he played with lives too closely, forgot the teachings that his mother worked day and night for him to remember, he took time away on his knees, asking for forgiveness, and a little more clarity.

He knew the life he led was not ideal, but it had been fruitful.  

It’d help him provide for his family, not only his sister, but his extended family in the Dominican Republic.  And, now, with his son in his hands, and his Chiquita lying next to him, he knew that now more than ever, the need to work his ass off would quadruple and intensify.

The tip of the iceberg was what she knew—what everyone knew, but Nevada’s operation and connections ran deeper than that.  Two people in his entire operation knew how deep his hooks were in the city, the two people he trusted with his life, and the two people he would trust with their lives from now on.  

He’d made the mistake of not listening to her, of not allowing her to call her shots knowing that in the deepest existence of her body, all bells and whistles were going off when it came to Dylan Perrot, and that because of his mistake, he’d almost lost the love of his life without the chance of admitting his undying love for her.  In consequence, he’d endangered the life of his then unborn child… deliberately!  And for that, he’d never forgive himself.

Ten days it had been since the fateful night of the rescue and almost suicidal mission in Union City.  

Nevada had set up camp in a hotel a couple of blocks from the hospital.  He was there from the minute visitation started to the second it ended.  

The nurses knew when he was coming, they knew the way he wanted things, how he wanted things, and they knew that if he saw something out of line, something that was out of place, the never ending tongue lashings would be the best part of their shifts.

They had a schedule set, one that for the last ten days everyone had abided to.  

As soon as visiting hours started, Nevada would stroll in, without a word to anyone, and plant himself at Mariana’s bedside.  Once the nurse noticed his presence in her room, they’d go in, let him know of the findings and progress, and confirm her nightly bath.  If for any reason, the bath had not been completed, they’d assure him that it was the first thing on their to-do list once medication had been administered.  

Minutes later, they’d roll the baby in and a breastfeeding nurse would help him latch against Mariana.  All of the medication given had been cleared and safe for lactation, and once he was done, Nevada would burp him, and allow for skin-on-skin contact with his mother even if Mariana’s body remained unconscious.

She’d been free of sedation for six days, her body having flushed out all remaining harmful additives to her milk, and though still intubated, her reflexes and neurological responses were great, she just needed to wake up.

During quiet time, and after his feeding, they would take the baby back to the NICU.  He’d been off the bili-lamps and blanket, but remained under observation for slight elevation of heart rate.  Even though, hospital policy was for no visitors during quiet time, the nurses at the ICU where Mariana lain, allowed him to stay.  He was never a bother and he never disrupted their workload.

“Chiquita,” he rasped, her hand in his.  “Chiquita, stop being so fucking stubborn and open your eyes,” he scoffed ruefully, placing his lips to her knuckles.  “Papito needs you, I—” he stopped; feeling the way his heart hanged on by a thread at the thought of losing Mariana.

He squeezed her hand in his, groaning softly to prevent his sob to fill the room.  “I—” he sniffled, shaking his head.

He stood, lowering the bedside rail in order to hover over the still body of hers.  He pressed his lips to her temple, tipping his chin to press his forehead to the side of her head.  If he wanted her to wake up, then he’d coax her back to life.  He would speak the unspoken words that threatened each and every second to come out of his mouth by the mere thought of her existence.  He’d say the words like a prayer, a contract devoid of annulment until he’d gotten what he’d come looking for the past nine days: her eyes.

“I need you, Mari,” he whispered against her face.  “Te amo, Chiquita.  Te amo tanto…”

He sighed, pressing his lips to her brow, lingering at the spot until he felt her quiet stirring.

For her, it was like a large tunnel filled with echo.  She heard the words he’d whisper to her every day, she heard the plight of his voice, and she heard the cry of her child.  Now, she couldn’t discern what was real and what wasn’t, but the ache and discomfort she felt constricting her throat caused her eyes to shot open.

Nevada took a step back, “Mari, Mari—”

A cough broke through her, the vein in the middle of her forehead prominent with stress.  The breathing machine had begun blinking red, making the most harrowing sound that filled the room.  She attempted to raise her hands, but they’d been restrained as a precaution to prevent what could’ve happened had her hands been free of them.

The nurses were quick to enter the room. “What's going on here?” one of them asked with a small smile.

“I—” Nevada stumbled with his words, glancing at Mariana struggling to catch her breath.

Mariana continued coughing, her eyes bulging out of their sockets as she struggled to catch her breath.  Nevada stood to the side and watched, listening to how the nurses were begging her to relax and take it easy.

“We’re going to have to give an Ativan bolus,” the nurse said, looking over her shoulder to one of her coworkers.

Nevada sprung into action, “No!  No!  Let me try something.”

The nurses paused, stepping back quickly to allow Nevada to stand besides Mariana.  

Mariana was frantically scanning the room; only able to see the blurry, jumbled mess in front of her.  She couldn’t focus her eyesight on anything concrete.  The nurse’s face was unclear and she couldn’t hear over the blood rushing through her ears.  She was tugging at her restraints when one of her hands was finally freed from them, but it’d been stopped mid air by a pair of hands she thought she recognized.  She moved her head as carefully as possible, attempting to not stir further the discomfort in her throat.

“Mari, mami,” Nevada cooed, stepping closer to the bed to be in her line of sight.  “Chiquita, you—you’re at the hospital. You have a tube down your throat that’s helping you breathe, mami, pero you can’t pull it off.  I—I know, I know you want your hands free, but you have to promise me you’ll calm down, ok?”

The breathing machine lagged in its response, but it stopped its noise, just like the heart monitoring machine stopped its chirping.  The room became quieter; the only sounds now were the low murmuring of the nursing team, and Nevada’s heartbeat in his ears.

Mariana’s vision still hadn’t clear.  Not even after the fluttering blinking from her part.  She squeezed Nevada’s hand as he brought it to his mouth to place a kiss to her fingers.  She opened her hand, spreading her fingers along his jaw, flexing them to scratch at his beard.  He hummed, closing his eyes, and enjoying the feel of her hands against his face.

Her eyes watered because even though she could not see him well enough, she still knew it was he.  She would always know it was he.

A nurse placed her hand on his shoulder and he turned his head, “We’ve paged the doctor to see if we can get that tube out in the next couple of hours.  Keep her calm and with company, ok?”

Nevada nodded, turning to grab in both of his hands one of hers.  “Ay, mi Chiquita,” he breathed out.

A couple of hours indeed had gone by and Nevada decided to keep busy on the other side of the hospital where the NICU took place.  They’d kicked him out, respectfully so, and not being able to sit on his ass quietly for more than a few minutes at a time, he’d busied his time in visiting his son over in the NICU, and allowing Nina to sit with them as well.

Nevada had returned and was now sitting across a very animated Mariana bickering her way with a doctor.

“That’s still not answering the question of my supply, doctor.  Am I going to be able to breastfeed with this medication in my body?”

She sounded a little hoarse, but her… gumption and bravado seemed intact.  “Yes, Miss Santos.  We actually recommend labetalol for postpartum complications.  You wouldn’t be the first nor the last of my patients who’s suffered some mild complication… that isn’t easily fixed,” the doctor said with a smile.

Mariana sighed, leaning back against the elevated headrest, giving a nod and a shy smile.  “When can I eat?  And, I mean, real food.”

The doctor nodded, “Unfortunately, due to the stress the tube puts on your throat, we want to make sure you heal for at least twenty-four hours before you can eat or drink anything.  We are keeping the feeding tube until tomorrow, so we won’t completely starve you.”

“And, my vision?”

The doctor nodded and offered an apologetic smile.  “I understand that it’s been blurry since you woke, but that your left eye is back to normal, now?” Mariana nodded, fidgeting with her flat sheet.  The doctor sighed, tucking his arms in his white coat pockets, “There’s really nothing we can do about that, Miss Santos.  You suffered a concussion to the occipital region of your brain on the left side, which figures why your right eye is still struggling to catch up. You just have to relax and let your body do its job.”

Mariana nodded and had resulted to silence when Nevada piped up, “How long?”

“Anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks.  We really do not know,” he offered simply.

“When can I—” Mariana’s musings had been put to a stop when the NICU nurse walked, rolling a fussy newborn baby in.

Nevada placed his coffee cup on the rolling tray lodged between Mariana’s bed and the chair as he stood, approaching the shrieking baby.  He thanked the nurse just as the doctor excused his self.  He bounced his knees, shushing his son lovingly, and placing a kiss to the baby’s cheek.

“Ready to meet our son?” Nevada asked with a smirk.

“Son?” Mariana said in a low gasp.  “Ian…”

“Matías Alexander Ramirez,” Nevada corrected.  “Meet the most incredible woman you’ll ever meet,” he finished, handing Mariana their son.

Mariana stretched her neck, waiting for Nevada’s impending kiss upon her lips.  As soon as skin-to-skin contact had been made, Matías sighed, opening his beautiful eyes to search his mother’s face.  

Mariana lowered the hospital gown at her shoulders.  “He prefers the right one,” Nevada said with a wink.

“Nevada,” Mariana warned, adjusting the baby to suckle with the nurse’s help and guidance.

Once Matías latched, Mariana sighed, feeling tears spring into her eyes.  She listened to the suckling noises he made, running her free hand through the soft jet strands on the baby’s head.  She saw as her teardrop startled Matías and she chuckled ruefully, wiping away the tear from his face.

“Seven pounds, thirteen ounces, and twenty inches of pure Ramirez,” Nevada gloated, sitting down on the recliner that had become his home throughout Mariana and Matías’ hospital stay.  Mariana smacked her teeth, unable to contain her happiness as she looked at him.  “I told you he likes the right one.”

“You would know,” she bit her lip, turning to face her child once more.  “Vada… ¡mira qué hermoso!”

“Tiene a quién salir,” he finished, tipping his chin in the air causing Mariana to giggle softly.

She was mesmerized by the beauty and easiness of the baby’s face.  What once seemed like a dream, something she’d thought she could have, but after having faced Ricky’s abuse had been torn from her life, seeing the miracle that was her son in her arms had made her particularly emotional.  It could’ve also been the fact that for a month, the uncertainty that clouded her mind every day on whether or not she would see this pregnancy through, or worst, the thought of her never getting the chance to meet her son, had her sitting with airs of elation.

She’d made good on the promise she’d made to her child: Nevada would get them out of there and they would be together once more.

She sighed, all love-filled, and she raised her elbow, allowing for greater reach and to place her lips upon Matías’ relaxed brow.

He was suckling contently, the veiny, thin flesh of his hooded lids protecting the beautiful shine of his eyes.  His tiny fists were tucked under his chin, yet it was the steady beating of his heart that most excited Mariana.  Being able to hold her child in her arms for the first time, to provide him that comfort, had her floating on cloud nine.

She turned towards Nevada with a smile, “What happened to Ian?  I thought we were set on Ian as a name.”

Nevada smirked, basking in her happiness.  “He was named Ian… for about two hours,” he smirked, biting his lip.  “Then, I stared at him, and he didn’t look like a Ian Ramirez, but Matías…” he clicked his tongue.  “Matías Ramirez es un hombre de palabra y autoridad… como su papá,” he finished with a wink.

Mariana shook her head, glancing down at Matías as he elicited a soft coo.  “Why Matías?” she asked, smiling down at her newborn.

“Gift of God,” Nevada looked at Mariana, thoroughly in love with her.  “Just like his mother.”

Mariana bit her lip, giving her newborn once more all the attention she harbored.

Nevada hummed; engulfed in all the love he had for the both of them.  “Chiquita,” he called out for her hearing her hum.  “Mírame,” he asked of her and once she smiled at him he admitted his love for her: “Te amo.”

Mariana’s smile grew on her face, biting her lip furtively, “Te amo, más, papi.”

tags: @bananas-pajamas​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @imjustreallynosy​ @katierpblogg​ @angelicdestieldemon​

[rafivadafreddy]

Pretty Little Psycho

A Nevada Ramirez and Nettie Perez Story. Part One.

Summery: Nettie is a girl with a horrible past. After her aunt left her house in her name, Nettie moves to Washington Heights. There she is able to stay low and not get noticed by many people. Until one night Nevada comes into the shop she works to leave a shipment in the back. (Yes another OFC. Only cause I can’t write fics with y/n. I need description! so.. sorry.)

Word Count: 2,019 Warnings: Cursing (surprise!) Panic attack. Talk about drugs. Nevada gets handsy, some spanish in there.

Living in Washington Heights for the past six months had been a nice experience so far. Her last living relative passed away and left a small home for Nettie. One by one, death came for her family members until she was the last one standing. Her grandparents died from natural causes, at least that’s what she was told when younger. Her father was shot, right in front of Little Nettie at the time. She was only 10 years old. Her mother died a few years later, Nettie had been 17, being used as a rag doll most of the time for her mother’s pimps whenever they were over. So, when she came home and saw her mother with a needle in her arm and not moving. Her pimp nowhere to be found, not that that surprised Nettie. She could only guess what had happened. By the time the paramedics arrived. Nettie already knew her mother was gone. Something Nettie felt no remorse over. Living with her mother meant living in a home filled with men, drugs and alcohol. Nettie being smacked around and used as they pleased. Nettie could only think ‘good riddance’ after the funeral.

The only living family left was an aunt who lived in Washington Heights. Nettie lived with the crazy old bat until she went off to college. Getting her degree in dance and fine arts. Taking up self-defense classes as well, needing to protect herself. Nettie could barely go near men without freaking out the slightest. When she graduated, her aunt died and left her house to Nettie. It was paid for and all Nettie would have to do is keep up with the bills.

So, with a heavy heart, the 25-year-old girl headed back a neighborhood in the northern part of Manhattan; Washington Heights. Not that she wanted that, but Nettie figured she would live in the house and work until she could get enough money to leave New York behind and never return.

Even with her degree, Washington Heights didn’t give her lots of options for jobs, meaning that Nettie had to accept whatever crap job that would accept her. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, right? With nothing to her name but student loans, Nettie accepted a job at a coffee shop where she learned how to brew the perfect coffee and even bake. The owners were a kind older couple who always spoke to Nettie about their grandchildren and children who lived all the way in Miami.

Life was going nicely for the girl she kept her head down and didn’t cause trouble. She never went out, didn’t bother to go to the clubs. If she wanted to drink, she would buy her liquor from the store and drink at home. Nettie wasn’t known to anyone, except those who came by the café and were regulars. Then they knew her name. Just the first, she never dared give out her last name. It was a curse after all.

It was late one night, being asked to close the shop, Nettie assured Camila and Dalvin that she would be alright.

“There are some supplies coming in tonight. Just… let them take the things out back. Okay? Don’t ask questions.” Dalvin told Nettie who was confused but nodded.

“You got it boss, I won’t ask, even if that sounds super suspicious.” She smiled and assured the two she’ll be fine.

They had left since Camila had been feeling some pain in her knees and since Dalvin was the only one around to help his wife. They left and Nettie continued to clean up. Having some pastries as she cleaned. Glad that everything was freshly made and so they wouldn’t mind her eating.

Putting on music, hooking her phone to the stereo and playing her dance playlist. Nettie grinned as Daddy Yankee started to play. Nettie grabbed the broom and danced along to Gasolina, singing along and just getting lost in the music.

“Ella prende la turbina No discrimina No se pierde ni un party de marquesina Se acicala va pa la esquina Luce también que hasta la sombra le combina Asesina, me domina Janguea en carro, motora, y limusina Llena su tanque de adrenalina Cuando escucha Reggaetón en la cocina”

As she danced along with the broom as her partner, doing a simple Merengue step dance. Nettie never heard the door open and people entering the café. To her, she had locked the doors, so she had nothing to worry about. By the time the song was over, and it changed to Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. Nettie let out a yelp when someone started to clap.

“Who the fuck are you, puto and how did you get in here?” she demanded, gripping the broom in her hand. Ready to use it as a weapon.

“Now cariño, that’s not very nice of you to say hum… I would hate for something to happen to this…. Cute little place.” The guy in the middle who wore all black said.

That caused Nettie to pale, she looked at the men and took a step back. “I’m sorry… please, just do what you need. I won’t get in your way.” She assured them and quickly went over to turn off her music. Only to be told to keep it on. Leaving it, Nettie took a deep breath before returning to work. Sweeping the floors and starting to wipe down the tables and counters.

“So mami… who are you and why have I never seen you before?” the same man from before asked as he stepped closer to her. Nettie glad she was on the other side of the counter.

“First of all, with all due respect. I’m not your ‘mami’ so stop that.” She eyed him before licking her lips. “My name is Nettie. I mainly stay at home… and to myself.” She added, decided to humor him since she didn’t want anything to happen to the café.

Excusing herself, she quickly returned to her cleaning and grabbed the garbage bags to take out back to the dumpster. It was when she was outside, lifting the bags up did she feel a hand on her shoulder. A masculine hand at that.

Dropping the bag, grabbing the unknown hand and turning around quickly, twisting the man’s arm around harshly and pushing him against the building brick wall.

“AH YOU CRAZY PUTA! LET ME GO! NEVADA!” the guy yelled out, undoubtedly in pain.  The way she held his twisted arm behind his back, Nettie was sure to press down on the pressure point in his hand.

When the back door opened again and the man in black came out with his henchmen. They stared with wide eyes. “Nettie… can you let go of Jose… I sent him out here to help you with the trash bags. Not to get attacked.” The guy she had talked to before had spoken.

“Well, next time. Tell him not to sneak up on a girl!” she said through gritted teeth and let the guys arm go and took a step back. Breathing heavily, Nettie blinked a few times before rolling her eyes. Going back to the trash bags, she threw them into the dumpster.

“Look, do your business. Let me do mine. I don’t need any help.” She eyed the four of them and pushed past to get back inside.

Letting out a breath of air that Nettie didn’t even realize she was holding. She went back to the front of the shore and rubbed at her forehead.

“Mira aquí mami… i don’t know who the fuck you think you are. But what you just pulled? Not fucking cool.” The guy in black said as he came over to where Nettie was seated.

“Yeah well, I’m not here to please you. Sorry, I’m here to work and get my paycheck.” She mumbled and hissed at the pain in her head. Grabbing her purse, Nettie quickly grabbed a bottle of Advil and took one, drowning down the pill with the water in her water bottle.

“Jefe! All done.” The guy she had attacked called out, narrowing his eyes at Nettie who glared back.

“Great! Goodbye, see you next time you decide to do whatever it is you did. Have a nice night!” Nettie jumped up and grabbed the keys to the café and her things.

“I’m going to give you a warning this time, mami because I happen to like Dalvin and Camila… Next time you treat us so poorly, well you’re going to regret messing with Trujillo”

Staring at him, confused. Nettie opened her mouth to say something but shut it. Only to repeat the process a few times. “I- I’m sorry, did you just refer yourself to Trujillo? Rafael Trujillo? Please tell me you didn’t and that’s your name.” she bit down on her lip. Knowing she was probably messing with the wrong people, but Nettie did not have a filter for her mouth. It was probably why her father was killed. Mouthed off the wrong people.

By the looks of the guys henchmen, Nettie knew she was playing with fire.

“Do you have a death wish you crazy puta?” he snapped, stepping closer to her and Nettie visibly tensed up. “Now… the next time we run into each other. I expect you to have better manners… Me entiendes mami?” he spoke lowly as his hand reached up and wrapped themselves around her neck, gripping at the soft skin as he glazed into her eyes.

“Sí… entiendo.” She found herself mumbling as her heart raced in her chest. Her breathing became harder and she was trying not to gasp for air in front of this man. Her chest ached something awful and Nettie didn’t even realize she was crying until the man backed away and stared at her in shock.

Backing away and wrapping her arms around herself, Nettie slid down the wall she found herself up against and she tried to calm down but that just seemed to make it worse. Nettie felt like she was going to be sick and could barely focus on what was going on around her. Her nails digging into her skin and soon someone was in front of her.

“Okay chica… listen to me. You gotta control your breathing.” A voice she didn’t recognize spoke to her. “Come on… breath with me. In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Now out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” he felt doing that while holding her hands until Nettie finally got her breathing back to normal.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” but she could hardly get a sentence out.

“No, none of that.” The man shook his head and quickly got up and grabbed a chocolate from the counter. “Come on. Eat this and you’ll be fine.” He smiled before glancing over at his boss. “My nephew has panic attacks all the time.” He explained and the guy just groaned.

“Fuck…” he mumbled and nodded to her. “Grab her things and let’s get out of here. We’ll drop her home.” He turned on his heel and walked out.

Nettie allowed the guy to help her up and grabbing her bag, they walked out of the shop. Miguel, she leaned was who helped her. He locked up the café and assisted Nettie into the black escalade. Once telling them her address, she closed her eyes and just waited to get home.

“Gracias, I’ll… I’ll make sure to respect you next time Trujillo.” Nettie said in a soft voice as the car was pulling up to her home fifteen minutes later.

“Nevada…” he sighed as he watched her get out. “My name is Nevada Ramirez. Just watch your mouth next time.” He said simply, looking forward again.

Nettie just bit her lip and nodded before bidding them goodnight and walking up to the house and letting herself in. Hearing the car drive off after she locked the door, Nettie dragged her feet to her room and passed out on top of the covers. Never realizing she had left her bag on the floor of the black escalade.

Tagging- @the-baby-bookworm​

Kinda not sure how long this will be. Probably just 5 parts with how I have my ideas written out. I hope you enjoyed. Heart and Re-blog